thinkin about Sukuna who doesn’t let you suck him off, doesn’t even bother fucking your mouth at all. he just slaps his thick cock against your cheek before he starts to rub it over your face all slow and lazy like. rutting back and forth in long thrusts, grinding each bumped vein over your brow bone until your cheeks are slippery and pearly little threads of pre are strewn over your face from your chin to your forehead. You peer up at him through clumped lashes, eyes glassy, winking whenever his heavy balls nudge at your chin. You lick and suck at whatever slip of skin your greedy mouth can reach just to hear his breath hitch above you, low rumbled groans just as unhurried as the slow rock of his hips. sometimes he drags the blushed tip over your lower lip, lets your tongue dart out to steal a proper taste before he lifts again just to rest his balls over the hollow point of your eye socket while he dribbles ropes of pre cum into your hairline.
Gojo Satoru didn’t believe in just one round during your birthday, no, he was a firm believer of making you have orgasms all day, sometimes not in the most appropriate places.
The day starts with his head in between your thighs, morning sun filtering through the curtains and casting a yellow glow over your boyfriend’s white hair. His long, slender fingers grip the skin of your thighs roughly as he dives into your sweet pussy, head rolling back as you moan and whimper above him.
The second time, it’s in the backseat of his car. You want to visit a garden centre on your birthday? Sure, as long as he can bounce you on his cock in a quiet area of the car park afterwards. You’re far too cock drunk to notice or even care if the car is rocking violently each time he slams you down onto his deliciously thick length.
The third time, two of his fingers are splitting you open in your friend’s bathroom. You should’ve known that Gojo would try this when you said your friends had invited you round for the afternoon with an open invitation for your boyfriend too.
“Satoru,” you begin breathlessly, legs involuntarily spreading wider. “Someone could hear.”
He presses open mouthed kisses along your neck, nipping at your skin playfully. “Then let them. Let them see how well you’re being treated on your special day.”
You can’t contain your moan as his fingers plunge deeper, reaching that sweet spot that made your legs shake. “You’ve already-mm-treated me twice.”
“Not enough for me, baby. I won’t let you sleep until I’ve given you at least six orgasms today.”
You barely register his words as your eyes roll back, familiar feeling building in your lower stomach as you thrust helplessly against his palm.
The fourth time happens on the couch, right after getting home and unable to even get a word out before Gojo is pushing you down, fingers already straying to your underwear. Somehow, you end up face down ass up, drooling over one of your favourite cushions as Satoru pounds into you again and again, causing the nastiest of moans to spill from your mouth.
The fifth and sixth orgasm happens during the same event, in a fancy restaurant. Apparently, Gojo had no awareness of his surroundings even in one of the most prestigious places possible. He apparently also thinks it’s funny to rub the sole of his shoe over your clothed pussy during dinner until you finish, hands gripping your cutlery in a desperate attempt to look composed. And then to top it all off, he fucks you again in his car, the passenger seat now, one hand firmly wrapped around your neck so you don’t accidentally turn your head and notice how everyone can see the two of you this time.
Friends with benefits, lots of angst, Suguru isn't over his ex, you're in love, miscommunication, cheating?, oral, multiple positions, cumplay, bladder control kink, backshots, will add more tags.
Masterlist
1. Craving
2. Hunger
3. Thirst
4. Compulsion
5. Obsession
6. Fixation
7. Frenzy
8. Withdrawal
9. Corruption
10. Insatiability
11. Enthrallment (Toji’s ending)
12. I’m Gonna Get You Back (Suguru’s Ending)
an: I realised that there wasn’t a masterlist for this lol.
ꮼ boyfriend!yuuta missed his pretty girl too much !
cw : est. relationship, premature ejaculation, male whimpering, slight oral m. rec, teasing, cumplay-ish?, smut, pet names, Yuta's embarrassed, but it's hot, you match each other's freak tbh, physical affection, & not proofread.
ⓘ FEATURING Yuta Okkotsu, your perfect boyfriend finally comes back for a visit & ... he cums in his pants before you even get the chance to fuck !
The moment Yuta entered your apartment; you were practically vibrating with excitement. He'd been gone on a mission for far too long & your poor vibrators could never quite do the trick.
Three long months without his embrace, three long months without the feeling of him stuffing you full all around the apartment.
Things had gotten quite lonely.
So, of course. You took the very first chance you got to touch your boyfriend. Practically pouncing him before he could even get out the cliché "Honey, I'm home!"
"Christ, love." He whimpered, his back landing against the couch with a grunt. Blush prominent on his cheeks as you slowly slid onto his lap. "You really missed me, huh?"
"So bad, baby." You cooed, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, staring deeply into his eyes. "I've been needing you for weeks."
You huffed pathetically, grinding your hips slowly against him.
"Ah-ah." He hissed, grasping your hips, holding you steady with a wince. "Baby. I just got home. I haven't even showered, I'm sweaty, you deserve... something nice." His pout grew wider at your whine.
It was hard to ignore the throbbing length poking through his sweats, acting like he didn't want you just as much as you wanted him—if not more.
"Yutaaa." You shoved your face into his neck, nipping at his skin softly, his head lulling back to give you better access. "I missed my boyfriend. I don't want something played up; I need you."
"Fuck." Yuta rasped, hips bucking up lazily under yours. "You need me?" He slipped a hand under the fabric of your shirt.
"Mm-hmm." You nodded, pulling back just enough to catch his lips in a quick kiss. "You have no idea how bad. I do, baby."
You dragged a hand down his chest, teasing the waistband of his sweats, pressing your forehead against his. "Do you... want to?"
"Please," he breathed out, nodding eagerly, brushing your hair behind your ear. "Please, please, please." Yuta's pathetic begging sent a chill down your spine.
It wasn't fair for him to be this hot so easily.
Sliding off his lap, you left him with a growing pout, his hands falling lazily on either side of his lap, watching you. '"Baby—"
"Shh." You placed your hands on his knees, slowly dropping between them. His eyes grew wide at the sight, swallowing thickly. "Just want to make you feel nice, Yu."
He only nodded, letting you push his thighs apart, nestling yourself comfortably against him, tugging on the fabric of his sweatpants. Yuta quickly untying them for you & peeling them down.
You pressed your thighs together at the sight of his throbbing length straining & leaking against the fabric of his boxers.
Fuck you'd missed him.
Slowly, you leaned over his lap, tugging on the band of the boxers to free him & froze at the springing cock before your eyes, Yuta pulling a hand up to cover his face.
"Baby. Quit staring. It's embarrassing." He rasped, thighs twitching before you grasped them.
"You always stare at me before intimacy; let me admire you too."
That did not help his case at all, only whining against his palms before forcing them down to watch you & your studying gaze.
You reached out, grasping the base, guiding it to your lips, eyes flicking up to meet Yuta's as you pressed a gentle kiss to the tipe before—
"Ngh!" Yuta let out the loudest whine you'd ever heard from him, the feeling of his sperm shooting out to coat your lips & chin soon followed. "Oh. My. God." He breathed out.
"Wow." You whispered, licking your lips slowly as you pressed back on your heels. "Well..." You drew off, before giggling, Yuta's mortification growing more frantic at the soft noise.
"I—Y/N, don't laugh at me." He gaped, staring down at you, though his face softened at how pretty you looked like that. "It's not funny. It's..."
"So sexy?" You cooed, rubbing his thighs slowly. "So, so, so sexy that I want to make you do it again?"
He choked on his breath at that, waving his hands around for a moment before they landed on your shoulder. "Baby. You are never making me do that again."
He almost laughed at how quickly you started pouting at that.
"No. It... You know I get sensitive after." He sighed, moving to cup your cheek. "I'm sorry you're not getting what you wanted, love."
"...Well—" You hummed, trailing off in thought. "—you also have a mouth, don't you?"
Yuta just found heaven on earth.
"Yes... you know I do." He sighed, flustered, he already knew what you were implying.
"Then make it up to me. Now, preferably." You tilted your head, grasping the hem of his hoodie. "Please? You don't know how hot it was to hear you like that."
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : art by hunnismokah divider by @cursed-carmine
…YOU LET ME CALL YOU BABY BUT I CAN’T CALL U MINE ?
sum. when geto is partnered up with you for a ‘fake family’ project, it gives him the perfect excuse to touch you as he pleases. but when you continue to laugh him off, can his frat brothers help him make you see him as boyfriend and not ‘bestie’?
“you’re partners with y/n?! that’s your sign to lock in, man. stop playing safe and take the fucking leap.”
ΣΧ
“i think we should name the baby ‘nagito komaeda.’”
“i think you’ve lost your damn mind.”
in the common room of the sigma chi frathouse, geto suguru has his legs spread lazily & his back against the old couch. he’s scrolling through his phone with bleary eyes as sato & sukuna debate a name for their project’s fake baby. sato gojo is scribbling names in red on the whiteboard. ryomen sukuna is taking up half the space on the living room couch.
“sukuna the second,” sukuna says with a gulp of his cola. he sets the can down with a thud & crosses his feet over the wooden coffee table, leaning back into suguru’s space. “it’s the only respectable option. suguru, what do you think?”
geto suguru thinks that sukuna hasn’t showered today.
he also thinks his privacy screen is his greatest investment. ryomen sukuna has his cheek smushed against suguru’s shoulder and his brown eyes blinking up at him, but he doesn’t notice that geto is scrolling through your instagram posts, staring at pictures where you look too pretty to be real with a tight jaw & stifled heartbeat. sukuna flicks his temple. “helloo. earth to suguru?”
suguru’s silver piercings are glistening in the heat. he blinks once, twice—memorizes the photo on his screen where you’re grinning while hugging a plush bear bigger than your head—& clicks his phone off with a sigh. his head rolls back in defeat.
“y/n is my project partner.”
the room goes silent.
gojo sato freezes against the whiteboard, marker still in hand. sukuna has leaned away from suguru, eyes wide, as if suguru has just admitted to not showering this morning. the two boys stare at suguru. then at each other, then back to suguru again.
“ouuuu shii,” they drawl simultaneously.
“please don’t start this nonsense…”
“suguru, this is huge!” sato lets his marker fall to the floor, and runs to crouch in front of geto, elbows on suguru’s knees. “think about it, man. you and the girl of your dreams. partnered up to play husband n’ wife and take care of a plastic baby.”
suguru bites his cheek, neck hot. “it’s just a project.”
“no, it’s an opportunity,” sukuna corrects. “this is the girl who calls you bestie even when you look at her like you wanna eat her alive.” he snaps his fingers. “this is your chance, idiot. to show her you’re husband material. you have an excuse to call her wifey, for fuck’s sake.”
suguru’s phone is tight in his palm. his thumb is still tracing the line of your smile in the image he was staring at before he clicked his phone off.
“she thinks i’m her friend,” suguru murmurs, voice half-gone as he slips his phone into his pocket. “she’s comfortable with me. i’m not gonna ruin that by acting like a feral dog.”
“you’re already feral, idiot. y’think i didn’t see you staring at her IG photos like a creep?”
geto blinks. “how did you—“
“not important!” sato interrupts, slapping suguru’s thigh. he rests his chin on suguru’s knee, blue eyes glimmering in the light. “what’s important is, you have an opportunity. she’s already comfortable with you—you just have to take it further. call her sweetheart. baby. wife. see if she doesn’t stop you. take the leap, suguru.”
“take the leap,” sukuna grins.
take the leap. but the leap is a jump with no safety net. geto suguru knows what’s at stake. he knows if he ever let himself get too greedy—too carried away—he risks losing the friday mornings spent at the library with your head against his shoulder while you pretend to read from a book. he risks your voice calling his name across campus, and the way you hug his arm when you haven’t seen him in days, and the way you tug the piercing on his lip with a playful smile when you want his attention. geto suguru knows better than to risk it. he knows not to take the leap.
but he nods, lips tight as he reaches for his car keys on the table. “i’ll take the leap.”
“let’s go, daddy geto!” sato roars, dapping sukuna up. the boys watch with stupid grins as geto shoves things in his pockets. geto glances at the time: 5PM. “i’m going to her place now, we agreed to meet up.”
sukuna clutches his heart, then waves. “go get your wifey, asshole.”
suguru doesn’t look back. it’s time to fucking leap.
# SHOW TIME !
“suguruu, stop acting responsible and come cuddle me.”
ah, you’re such a fucking bother.
it’s sometime after six and geto suguru is in your bedroom with his shirt tossed somewhere on the floor and his silver chain cold against his chest. he’s putting together the plastic baby crib in preparation for the project’s official start on monday, and trying very fucking hard to ignore the fact that you’re all sprawled out on your bed behind him: hair fanned out, pillow to your chest, and whining his name because who are you if not a tease?
“you’re such a bad husband,” you mumble wistfully. “leaving your wife all alone on her bed like this…”
god.
geto’s throat bobs. there’s blood in his throat but his eyes skim the instructions with hazy focus. lord knows he wants nothing more than to press you into the covers and kiss you till you’re laughing his name and you can’t fucking breathe, but he knows the minute he pads over there you’ll laugh in his face.
his mouth dries.
“someone has to build the crib, angel,” he murmurs. it comes out lower than he intended, but whatever—it came out regardless. pet name number one, okay. “unless you want our fake baby sleeping on the rug?”
“i want my fake husband,” you hug your pillow tighter, and geto can hear the pout in your voice. your eyes are still on the ceiling, and geto doesn’t miss the fact that you don’t comment on the pet name. perhaps you didn’t hear it. perhaps you just don’t care. “and the baby is plastic,” you grumble. “it doesn’t care if it sleeps on a mattress or a floor.”
he hums. “bet it doesn’t complain as much either.”
“hey!” you gasp, chucking your pillow at him with a laugh. geto’s lip twitches in a smile. he rubs the back of his head, sweeping away the black strands falling in his face. he turns to glance at you, and then he wishes he didn’t, because you’re staring back at him with the brightest eyes he’s ever seen.
he bites his cheek. and then he pads over to you.
you watch, starry eyed, as geto lets the instruction manual glide to the floor. he presses a knee into the mattress, leg swinging over your thighs, bed dipping underneath his weight. his hair tickles your jaw and his chain dangles in front of you and geto suguru smells like dogwood and something too warm to have a name.
you blink up at him. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he murmurs. “you look cute like this.”
he shouldn’t say that, he knows he shouldn’t, but you’re already curling your hand around his necklace and letting your thighs squeeze underneath him. and geto’s eyes rake down your body—just once, just a little, because he knows better than to leap that fucking far. so he bites his lip.
“i always look cute..” you mumble, lashes fluttering and voice fading underneath him.
“mm, but you look extra cute today,” he mutters, “like a real life mommy.”
you tug his necklace, grin cheeky. “geto suguru. are you trying to seduce me?”
“no,” he murmurs, and his voice is too low and the words come too fast. “i’m being a good husband. taking care of my wife’s needs before she even asks.”
he’s still propped up over you, bare pecs heaving & chain glinting too close to your face. the heat of his body pricks at your skin. you tug him closer by the chain: “and what needs do i have?”
“attention,” he murmurs, thumb grazing your cheek. “you've been whining since I got here. wanted me to stop working. wanted me to come cuddle you.”
“i was only joking..” you mumble, slightly shy. and geto wishes you wouldn’t say that. wishes he didn’t know that already.
but he’s a patient man. and how can he be upset when you look so pretty underneath him?
“i know,” he murmurs, voice warm, half-lidded eyes boring into yours. “i’m sorry. am i making you uncomfortable?”
he says he’s sorry but his thumb still grazes your cheek, because he can’t not. you lean into him reflexively, and then you blink.
“what—? no, no. it’s just—“ your brows furrow, and you frown in that way that makes geto want to kiss it off. “it’s just… you’re so good at this, geto!”
his thumb pauses over your cheek. “what?”
“this husband thing!” you grin up at him, cheeks flushed. “you made me feel all hot and funny inside. your future wife is gonna be so lucky.”
geto blinks. you keep going.
“you were so hot,” you cup his cheek with a palm, and geto’s jaw is slack. “and you’re so responsible setting up the baby stuff. whoever you date and marry is gonna be so lucky. in a way this is perfect practice, isn’t it?”
his jaw tightens. “yeah, practice.”
he doesn’t say you’re the only girl he’s ever wanted, the only girl he’ll ever want, that last summer when you fell asleep on his couch with his hoodie on your shoulders he thought about you with his last name; or that every time you swat his chest and laugh away his efforts his heart cracks a little in his chest. he doesn’t tell you he’s only a man and his heart can’t take much more much longer.
but he squeezes your hip. bites your neck so you giggle and swat him away. rolls off you and pretends his chain isn’t still warm from your grip.
geto suguru pads away to kneel by the crib’s side. “is my wife gonna keep whining, or is she gonna help me fix this?”
SATO’S REMARK : TOUGH LUCK. BUT KEEP AT IT, BROTHER!
HUSBAND TACTICS #2: GET DOMESTIC !
taught by: toji zenin
“wanna woo her? take her on a family-esque activity. that’ll show her you’re husband material.”
ΣΧ
sigma chi’s frathouse kitchen is two bottles of bourbon & cranberry jam left open on the countertop. in the kitchen suguru geto is there, a hyper-realistic plastic baby on his hip as toji scribbles grocery items in handwriting geto will have to pretend to understand.
“here’s everything,” toji grumbles, clicking his pen and passing the note to suguru. geto’s face scrunches immediately, piercings glimmering as he squints his eyes in a desperate attempt to read the list. “how the hell is your handwriting worse than sukuna’s?”
“you’ll figure it out. it’s for meg,” toji answers, bored, drumming his pen against the sticky counter. “and some of the organic stuff my girl likes. i’ll be back late today, so i need you to drop it off at my place.”
suguru shifts the doll over his chest, taking one last look at the sorry note before stuffing it in his pocket. “are you taking meg with you today?”
“no, he’s home with the babysitter,” toji grunts, slipping his hands into his skinny jean pockets to hide the fake ice on his wrist. “new job’s paying good, so i’m taking the missus out on a date.”
“aww,” suguru softens, smile tugging at his lips. he’s pleased to see toji doing better, to say the least. he’s engaged to a pretty, rich lady now; working hard as a ghost writer for drake, all while being a good young father to meg. he pats the doll’s head absentmindedly. “that’s cute. what are you planning?”
“luxury shopping date,” toji mumbles.
“really?” suguru tilts his head. “where are you going?”
“shoppers drug mart.”
geto doesn’t comment.
“you should take that girl with you,” toji says, hands still in his pockets. “take her n’ your plastic doll grocery shopping. it’s good domestic practice. get her some expensive strawberries and see if she doesn’t fall head over heels.”
suguru bites his lip, phone already heavy in his pocket.
can’t hurt to try, right ?
# SHOW TIME !
suguru wishes you wouldn’t do this to him.
wishes you wouldn’t look all cute standing by the store’s glass doors, lashes fluttering as you blink around trying to find him. he should raise his hand, text you he’s just two aisles over and you should move before the lady behind gets mad at you for blocking the entrance. instead he watches with a fond smile as you frown and fumble to grab your phone from your purse.
he sighs, walking over to stand behind you with the fake baby in his arms. your eyes are still on your phone as your thumbs tap frantically, typing a message to send to his contact: ‘SUGURU. where are u???’
his lip twitches. he’s leaning so close over your shoulder that he can smell your shampoo, and your hair is tickling his nose, but you still don’t notice. so cute. geto thinks you’re so cute.
he hums into your neck. “who are we texting?”
“suguru!” you gasp, whipping around at the sound of his voice. he’s looking down at you with those half-lidded eyes, teasing smile, dark sweater sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms. you frown at him. “you scared me! don’t you know you shouldn’t sneak up on vulnerable young women?!”
suguru blinks. “what?”
“you heard me,” you grumble, fake pout on your lips as you lean down to the plastic doll in his arms. “hi, lafayette. daddy’s being mean to mommy again.”
“i still can’t believe you named our baby after a revolutionary leader.” geto mutters.
“he’s my fave in hamilton,” you hum, slipping lafayette into your arms. “shall we get shopping?”
——
in geto’s shopping cart, there’s five shades of lipgloss, a bag of plantain chips, and four other items that are not on the shopping list.
geto suguru needs to start saying no. but it’s hard to deny you when you look up at him with those pretty eyes, batting your lashes all sweet in that way that makes his chest hurt. so he pushes the cart, resigned, watching the sway of your hips as you balance lafayette on your side and coo silly things to him like he’s a real human child. he shakes his head, bites his lip. geto suguru is utterly fucked.
“suguru! look at this!”
he shouldn’t look. because it’s just going to be another item you’ll seduce him into buying, but he looks anyways. you’re pointing at a box of dinosaur cereal—a clear off-brand version of froot loops. “lafayette would love this. can we get it for him?”
he pads around the cart to get a better look. “lafayette can’t eat cereal.”
“i meant megumi,” you coo, running a hand down his pecs. “he likes dinosaurs. he’ll love this.”
“no, he likes gummy worms,” but geto suguru is already distracted by your hand stroking his chest. his lip twitches, “you want this for yourself, don’t you?”
“caught me,” you flash him your sweetest smile, squeezing his pec before setting lafayette in the cart. geto watches as you lean up to the top shelf, skirt riding up your thighs as you reach for the box of cereal. his eyes drop. but then his neck heats and he quickly looks away.
“suguruu,” you frown, still reaching. “help me.”
suguru lets out a rough breath. he shouldn’t help, but he always will—what else can he do when you call his name like that?
he steps behind you, chest pressing against your back, arm reaching up and caging you in the process. your breathing hitches. suguru doesn’t miss it.
“suguru,”
“hm?”
“what are you doing?”
your voice comes out breathy, and suguru has to pretend he doesn’t like the way you sound or how you’re staring up at him with big eyes. he hums coolly. “i’m helping my wife.”
“oh,” your lashes flutter as he reaches to tug down your skirt. his knuckles brush your thigh & you glance down at his arm snaking around your hips before mustering up a smile.
you tease, “such a good husband, protecting my modesty.”
“mm,” he murmurs, “the best.”
your mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. geto watches your lashes flutter—shy? nervous?—as your hand curls around his bicep to steady yourself. your palm squeezes his arm. he lets his hand dip to squeeze your inner thigh, and prays you don’t hear his breathing hitch.
“do good husbands usually grope their wives..?” you murmur, and geto thinks you’re teasing, but your lashes are low and your voice is so small and god he wants to kiss you so badly.
“don’t think so,” he mutters. “am i bad?”
“so bad,” you breathe. and your breath is hot & he’s leaning so close he can feel it on his lips. you squeeze his arm, eyes boring into his, and you really need to fucking stop before he leans down and kisses you. “but i don’t mind.”
god. you’re gonna fucking kill him. geto parts his lips to speak but you get your words out first.
“so,” you beam up at him, “the cereal?”
oh. the cereal.
fuck you and the cereal.
he doesn’t mean that, though. his jaw tightens as he lifts the box and drops it into the cart. his hands shove in his pockets, and geto suguru can only blink away the irritation burning in his eyes.
“thanks, sugu,” you lift lafayette into your arms. he’s gripping the cart handle right now, trying to ignore the fact that you’re smiling up at him and cursing himself because even now he thinks you are so beautiful.
“well then,” you chirp, grin sweet, “back to shopping!”
TOJI’S REMARK : SHE DON’T WANT YOUR ASS 🤦🏿♂️
HUSBAND TACTICS #3: GET SMOOTHER.
taught by: toru gojo
“your problem is that everything you do maintains plausible deniability. i think it’s time you claimed her in a way she can’t deny.”
ΣΧ
the good news is, even though geto ended up spending $200 on items not on toji’s list, the plantain chips you roped him into getting were really good. the bad news is, sato gojo is lying here on his lap, forcing geto to feed him said chips while gaming on sukuna’s nintendo switch.
“sugu, i want one,” -> geto feeds sato a chip. chew, swallow. “i can’t believe you embarrassed yourself like that.”
suguru’s eye twitches. “no more chips for you.”
they’re on the bed in toru’s room, and toru gojo sighs before slipping his headphones off at his desk. “sorry, but you guys are getting crumbs on my bed.”
sato laughs. “as if sukuna doesn’t jerk off in here every other day.”
“that was before he finished therapy,” toru mumbles in response, cheeks flushed in dismay. god bless geto for enrolling sukuna in therapy for his exhibitionist kink, despite sukuna’s wishes. toru takes his glasses off, runs a hand through his hair. “suguru, what’s this about you and y/n?”
“every time suguru tries something with her, she laughs him off,” sato snitches. he flashes geto a clumsy grin, smile totally innocent. “sugu, i want one.”
geto shoves him off his lap.
“maybe you’re not obvious enough,” toru plays with the stem of his glasses. “you guys are super close. even if you’re touching her, she might not take it seriously because she’s used to touchy friendships.”
“yeah!” sato agrees, fist pumped up, face flat on the floor. “my thoughts exactly, twin brother.”
“shut up.” geto and toru say simultaneously.
“anyway,” toru continues. “maybe get bolder. do something she can’t pass off as ‘just friends’.”
geto stares at the chips in his lap. “just friends, huh?”
#SHOW TIME!
geto leans by the kitchen door. “hi, mommy. what’re you doing?”
suguru’s over at your house for dinner. he’s just put lafayette to sleep in his crib, and he has his hands in his pockets as he pads over to you, sweatpants low on his hips. his arms cage you by the stove. “you smell good,” he mutters.
you ignore him. “i’m making dinner!” you beam, turning to face him.
geto can’t even tell what you’re showing him. in your hands is a charred mess, and geto can only pray the squiggly thing on the plate is spaghetti and not something else. his brows furrow in amused confusion as you beam up at him, lashes fluttering.
he cocks his head. “is this a burnt offering?”
“rude,” you swat his chest, and geto only smiles, eyes tracking the way your hair falls over your shoulders. you mutter curses as you shift the plate away, staring at the pot in dismay. “i wanted to cook for you.” you grumble.
his lip twitches. “like a real life wife?”
“yeah,” you turn to him, lips in a pout as you play with the chain on his chest. “but it didn’t work out. can you believe it?”
“i believe it,” he hums, but in reality he’s trying not to laugh, or rather, avoiding thinking about how glossy your lips look when you pout. his palms find your waist, “need your hubby to help?”
you smile up at him, “if he’d be so kind.”
geto lifts you by the hips before you can think better of it. you yelp as he sets you down on the counter, gripping him in a panicked hug. “suguru! you can’t just do that!”
he smiles, big. “do what?”
“lift me! and without warning!” you’re still hugging his neck tight, heart racing against his collarbone. he laughs, face in your hair to muffle the sound. his hands are splayed on your back, anchoring you against him.
“stop laughing at me,” you frown, and geto pulls back. he still has that lazy smile on his lips. “i’m not laughing,”
“yes you are,” you cup his face, smushing his cheeks in your palms. “look at your smile. it’s mocking.”
“adoring,” he mutters, gaze reverent.
“lying,” you pout, frown deep.
geto doesn’t argue. he only watches, eyes half-lidded, as you lift a palm from his cheek to card through his hair, stroking softly. you’re still pouting, still pretty. his thumb presses into your spine.
“i’ve never lied to you in my life,” he murmurs.
“yeah?” you’re still raking his hair, eyes never meeting his own. “then were you laughing at me just now?”
“no, mommy.”
“see?” you cock your head. “liar.”
he lets out a long, shuddering breath, hands sliding from your back to your waist, then down to squeeze your hips. you’re still stroking his hair, unbothered. no idea that you’ve got him crumbling beneath you.
“you feel so soft,” he murmurs before he can think better of it.
you tilt your head. “my hips?”
“and your waist, and your thighs,” he drawls, and he’s not even thinking straight anymore. “everywhere.”
you stare at him, brows knit, hand pausing in his hair. “suguru,”
“yeah, baby?”
“you’re being bad again.”
he lets out a strangled breath. he’s staring at your lips, he has been for a while now, and his gaze is bleary & eyes half-lidded. “sorry mommy,” he mumbles, “are you uncomfortable?”
“no?”
“then i’m gonna kiss you now.”
“sugu—“
and he does. he pauses just slightly—just enough to let you pull away if you don’t want this, if you don’t want him—but you don’t so geto presses his lips to your own. his first thought is gloss. your lips are so glossy; strawberry sweet & sugary fake. he lets his tongue slip out to lick your mouth, before cocking his head to kiss you deeper. you squeak, moaning into his mouth, kissing him back as he presses you into him. your thighs squeeze around his waist and geto slips a groan past your lips.
“so good,” he chases your lips when you pull away to breathe, “taste so good, pretty,”
you let him press sloppy kisses to your jaw, hands still in his hair.
but geto doesn’t notice how you freeze underneath him.
TORU’S REMARK: MY ADVICE WORKED?! THIS IS WHY I’M THE BETTER TWIN!! :)
HUSBAND TACTICS #4: GO GET YOUR WIFE !
taught by: ryomen sukuna
“good progress, bud. now all you gotta do? maintain the pace. keep showing her you’re the man now.”
ΣΧ
in sigma chi’s living room, ryomen sukuna is strapped to an armchair as sato hooks him up to a birth simulator.
idiots, the both of them. it started with sukuna saying that taking care of their plastic baby isn’t much work after all, and so motherhood can’t be that bad, and giving birth must not be that bad either. sato, ever the feminist, decided to challenge him on that. now it’s a weekday evening and sato is pressing electric pads to sukuna’s belly with his tongue in his cheek. sukuna the second (their plastic baby—sukuna won the argument it seems) is crying somewhere in the distance.
“nice work, daddy geto,” sukuna hums, shifting so sato can press another pad to his belly. “you’ve gotten the girl.”
geto has. so why doesn’t he feel like it?
you kissed him back. kissed him again. in fact, he’d say he had your lips for dinner. but the texts he sent you this morning are still unread: did you sleep well? can we talk?
geto shakes his head, relaxing into the sofa with his legs spread out as he watches sato fumble with the machine. “now all you gotta do is keep up the good work,” sukuna mumbles. “easy-peasy.”
“i feel like something’s wrong,” geto plays with his necklace. “but i’m not sure what it is, exactly.”
“nothing’s wrong, dumbass,” sukuna squints, watching sato frown at the remote. “you’re just not used to being forward. months of holding back will do that to ya. what you need to do now? ramp it up. tell her you wanna put a baby in her or something. girls love that shit.”
“oh, i agree with that. it’s like saying she’s wifey type.”
“you get me, sato.”
sato grins. then he presses a button on the remote and sukuna screams.
“jesus christ of nazareth!” sukuna roars, jerking in the chair. “fuck—! turn this shit off! sato!”
sato watches him jerk with his hands on his hips, lips bent in a clumsy smile. “what? i can’t hear you over your screaming!”
suguru eyes his frat brothers, both sukuna’s—and sukuna the second’s—cries roaring in his ears. he’s still not sure why this is even happening, but he’s long concluded both his frat brothers were born with a brain. he sighs, burying his face in his hands.
he really needs to fucking see you.
#SHOW TIME !
geto wasn’t sure you’d want to see him.
but you’d already planned to meet up today; long before he kissed you on the countertop, long before he sent you six messages & deleted them all when he received no response. it would be wiser to stay home but he shows up anyway, because he’s a coward who’s trying not to be, and he hasn’t eaten anything in days because everything in the sigma chi kitchen suddenly tastes like your lips.
you greeted him with a smile on your face.
lafayette on your hip, pretty smile as you beckoned him in. said you were just about making lunch. asked him to go handle it in the kitchen because obviously you don’t want to see his face.
geto shakes his head, stares at the water running off his hands in the sink. he has to think positive.
“lafayette, baby, please don’t cry,” your voice comes from the living room. “mommy’s trying so hard—oh my god. i swear i’m gonna take out your batteries!”
geto laughs through his nose before he can think better of it.
he wipes his hands, pads over to the doorframe to watch you fuss over lafayette in the living room. you’re bouncing the plastic robot in your hands, trying to get it to stop its automated wailing. “shhh. want me to sing you a song, baby? you like songs from hamilton, right? okay, okay. why do you cry like you’re running out of time—”
lafayette screams. geto falls in love.
well he was already in love, but somehow his heart has gone sticky in his chest. it’s silly, isn’t it? but geto’s thought about it a lot. your laugh in the kitchen on sunday mornings, your contact saved with his last name, you waking him up at 3am for some ridiculous craving; and he’d get up to retrieve it, of course. because geto suguru would go to the ends of the earth for you if you’d allow it.
is it weird to think of domestic life with someone you aren’t even dating?
probably. but then he thinks about your thighs squeezing his waist on the kitchen counter, your pretty moans in his mouth, your hands in his hair—and god. god god god. geto suguru has never wanted something so badly.
so he doesn’t think too much before padding over to join you in the living room, arms wrapping around your hips. “hey.”
you tense, just a little, just enough that geto doesn’t notice, then relax into him just slightly. “hi. are you being bad again?”
he can hear the smile in your voice, but your usual playfulness isn’t as strong. “maybe. you look cute, bouncing our baby like that.”
you force a smile, eyes dropping to lafayette wailing in your arms. “well—“
“you’d make such a pretty mommy,” geto breathes, and even he’s not sure what he’s saying. all he knows is you’re warm and pretty and in his arms and it’s all he’s ever wanted, all he’ll ever want.
you don’t respond, and geto’s in his feelings now, so his mouth keeps moving: “i think about it a lot,” he murmurs. “mornings with you. you burning the eggs because you’ve never been a good cook.” his palm shifts to your belly. “and i’ll eat them anyways.”
“suguru,”
“and you’d get mad at me for eating them,” he breathes, collapsing into your neck. “tell me you don’t need my sympathy and frown up at me while bouncing our baby on your hip. and then you’d kiss me because you secretly find it sweet of me.” he breathes. “i think about it a lot.”
“you’d make such a pretty wife, such a pretty mommy,” geto breathes. and your neck is so warm, and his lips are ghosting over it, and as his palm glides over your belly his dizzy mind flashes back to sukuna’s words: girls love feeling like they’re wifey!
so he kisses your neck. “can’t wait to see you round with my baby.”
if you were tense before, you’re frozen now.
“suguru.”
“hm?”
“i’m uncomfortable.”
geto freezes.
you step out of his hold, lafayette to your chest, pretty eyes looking up at his. but you’re not looking at him with your usual fondness. your eyes are bored—unimpressed—something geto’s hazy mind can’t seem to name. your lips are tight. “i think you should take lafayette for the weekend.”
“y/n—“
“and don’t contact me,” you snap, irritated. “don’t call, text, nothing. i just—“ you bite your lip, “you need to leave, geto.”
not suguru, geto. okay. okay.
geto leaves with lafayette in his arms. his heart is still in your living room.
SUKUNA’S REMARK : WHO TOLD YOU TO SAY THAT?!
HUSBAND TACTICS #5: DIVORCE COURT !
taught by: nanami kento
“you’ve been leading with actions instead of words. are you really surprised?”
ΣΧ
is it so bad to be forward?
geto has his head on the steering wheel & his heart in his throat. lafayette is crying in the backseat but geto doesn’t care, doesn’t care to rip out the batteries or at least sing the doll to sleep. instead he grips the steering so hard his knuckles turn white.
can’t wait to see you round with my baby.
why did he say that? he wants to blame it on sukuna but he can’t. geto knows it’s all on him, of course. he let himself get too love drunk, too hope drunk, too drunk on a future that will never exist. he thought about sato and sukuna who don’t think before they talk and still manage to get the girl. but life has never let him have anything easy, and with you in his arms he managed to forget that. now the only girl he’s ever wanted thinks he sees her as just flesh, and geto is a coward so he doesn’t plan to redeem himself.
it’s best to let you go.
“do you intend to drive?”
nanami’s voice is flat beside him. it’s more of a bored comment than a question, and geto lifts his head up slow. nanami kento is beach-blond hair & pressed on clothes and a bored look that never seems to leave his face. he stares at geto. geto stares back.
“i’m going through a crisis.”
“i observed. should i get toji to drive me instead?”
“have a heart, kenny,” geto slumps against the driver’s seat. nanami’s license is on a three-day suspension for being slightly tipsy while driving, and it’s unusual for kento, but we all have our problems. geto reaches for a cigar in the glove box. nanami smacks his hand away.
“this is about y/n, correct? sato told me all about it.”
of course he did—what a snitch.
geto rests his head on the wheel, careful not to let the horn sound. “is it my turn for some advice?”
“i suppose,” nanami pushes up his glasses. “did you ever try speaking english?”
geto blinks. “english?”
“the others advised you to be forward, correct?” nanami starts. “touch her, kiss her, all of it. but did you ever speak english? tell her that you liked her? wanted her?”
geto blinks. but kento’s not done.
“i heard about what happened most recently, sukuna told me all about it,” nanami sighs. “telling a woman she’d make a pretty mom. telling her you can’t wait to see her round with your baby.” kento scoffs. “you have your domestic fantasies, geto. but do you know how terrifying that is to a woman who you haven’t even told ‘i love you’?”
ah. geto knew he’d been missing something.
he’s always been a coward. at thirteen, he pierced his own ears with a ballpoint pen and hid the bleeding from his parents for weeks. at seventeen, he got his first tattoo, and charred it off with cigarette butts until all that remained was the outline. at nineteen, he kissed a girl and blocked her the next day. at twenty-two, he fucked up his chances with the only woman he’s ever loved. geto suguru has never known how to handle wanting something. he either destroys it or runs far, far away.
“so what do i do now?” geto asks, brows knit. “she told me to stay away from her.”
“then you do exactly that,” nanami’s already unbuckling his seatbelt. “give her the space she needs. you’ve crowded her for long enough, suguru.”
he has, hasn’t he?
“i’ll ask toji to give me a lift,” nanami is standing outside the car. “you’re in no condition to drive.”
nanami slams the door shut. lafayette is still crying in the backseat.
# SHOW TIME !
geto suguru is back in your room again.
not in the way he’d like, not sprawled on your bed or with you curled into his side. he’s sitting diagonally across from you on the mini-table you have laid out, because he’d tried to sit opposite you and caught the way your lip twitched with irritation.
geto is on his best behavior.
the plastic doll is asleep in its crib as you and suguru fill out spreadsheets. logs on feeding times, that sort of thing. he stares at the gleaming columns—empty. they’ve been empty for an hour now, because geto suguru can’t stop his eyes from shifting from his laptop screen to your face.
“feeding log,” you say flatly. “did you do the 2PM ?”
“yeah,” he did—he thinks. everything is blurry.
“no you didn’t,” you bite. “i’m literally looking at the column right now. it’s empty. and it shouldn’t be.”
geto’s fingers twitch over his keyboard. the spreadsheet in front of him is empty, but the previous one—the one you’re looking at—shouldn’t be. he remembers logging it yesterday with his back bent over the kitchen island, eyes clouded over, thinking, wondering if he should send you a message.
he croaks, “i did fill it in. check the—“
“you didn’t,” you snap, and geto’s never had you snap at him before so he’s not sure what to do with that. “i’m literally looking at it right now. can you please take this seriously?”
“okay,” he swallows.
you turn back to your laptop, irritated. geto fills out the spreadsheet in front of him. he won’t give you reason to be upset with him any longer.
———
the second time geto sees you after the incident, it’s at the local library.
you’re already done with today’s work, and the walk back to the residences is long & winding. geto suguru knows his place. he has his eyes down on the pavement, wind flinging his hair in his face, three feet behind you because you’d eye him if he got any closer.
you’re shivering.
and geto noticed it three minutes ago, to be honest. noticed how your shoulders hugged together, how you shoved your hands into your pockets. he should give you his jacket. you’re cold, and he doesn’t want you getting sick, and he doesn’t want you to snap at him or shoot him down but you’re cold and you’re beautiful and geto suguru is calling your name before he can think any better of it.
“y/n—here.”
he holds out his jacket. you turn back to look at the material, and then back at him.
“i don’t want it.”
he should stop. “you’re freezing. i don’t want you to catch a—“
“i’d rather freeze.” you deadpan. “can you not speak to me?”
geto bites his lip. he stops himself before he can say okay.
——
in the library’s study room, geto suguru has his head on his keyboard and eyes staring at the glass door.
his phone chimes, but he doesn’t check the message because he knows it’s just team snapchat. but then it chimes again, and geto reaches for his phone even though he knows there’s no point.
—
y/n :)
where are you
i have your location.
we need to work on the project
—
geto scrambles—actually scrambles, he accidentally knocks over the chair behind him—and then he breathes. wipes his face with his hoodie sleeves. breathes again.
when you walk in, you don’t say hi.
you sit diagonally across again, and open up your laptop. you look pretty today. hair loose over your shoulders, cheeks flushed from the weather, lashes fluttering in the light. and your lips are glossy again, like they were in the supermarket, like they were on the kitchen counter—and oh god. geto needs to stop staring.
but he doesn’t. he watches, mouth slightly agape, as your nails click at your keyboard. he can tell you’re upset or irritated, and he thinks—no, knows it’s because of him, and he really needs to get this work done so you won’t get sad and snap at him again. he doesn’t want to be in trouble. he doesn’t know what to do when you get like that. so he turns his eyes to his laptop. but somehow, they drift back to your face again.
“can you stop fucking staring at me?”
“sorry—“ he flinches. “i’m sorry, i’ll look away.”
there’s a lump in his throat. he’s looking at the screen but he can’t quite see it, and the numbers and columns have mixed together and swollen up on the page.
but you aren’t done.
“seriously, what is your problem?” you snap, irritated. “we have a project to do. and you’ve been letting your stupid feelings get in the way of it all!”
he wants to say he’s sorry again, and that his feelings aren’t stupid but he’s sorry, and it’s all he’ll ever be, but instead his voice comes out as a croak. “i’m trying.”
you stare at him in disbelief. his fingers are shaking under the table. has he always been this jumpy?
“you need to try harder,” you snarl. “or what? too busy thinking about marrying me? having me round with your baby?” he shrinks. “what the fuck, geto?”
he doesn’t know how to explain that that day in the living room he wasn’t thinking of actually giving you a baby, at least not right now. he doesn’t know how to explain that when he looks at you he thinks of forever, he wants forever, and ever since starting this project ‘forever’ has looked like wedding bells and sunday mornings and grocery runs with a mini-you in the cart. he doesn’t know how to say he wants you to be his, your last name, your everything, and it’s sick and twisted and too much too fast but geto suguru has never been able to want in increments.
so he shrinks. stares at his keyboard. you snap, “say something!”
“i’m sorry,” he croaks, eyes on his lap. “i didn’t want to—i wasn’t trying to—“
“you scared me!” you snap. “geto, you scared me. you’ve been scaring me! these last few weeks—“ you slam your book shut. “touching me. kissing me. and i don’t mind—swear to god i don’t. but you’ve been acting so weird so suddenly! saying things you’ve never said before. is this some kind of twisted roleplay?!”
geto stifles a breath. tries to count in his head so he doesn’t breakdown in front of you. he knows that wouldn’t be fair. you keep going:
“i don’t know what i’m supposed to think,” you grip the table. “my best friend of how many years gets partnered with me for a project, great! but then he starts kissing me on countertops. standing too close in grocery stores. telling me i’d make a pretty wife and mommy and—it’s weird! i don’t know where it’s coming from! he’s never said he likes me in his life, but he can’t wait to see me round with his baby?”
you’re sniffling now. “what the fuck, geto?”
your shoulders are shaking, and you’ve sat back down, and your pretty face is in your hands as you cry. geto’s heart aches. because you’re not supposed to cry because of him. because he’s not supposed to make you uncomfortable, or confused, or upset, and he’s done all of that in the span of a week. and geto’s mouth dries. he wants to pad over and hold you in his arms but he knows he doesn’t have the right to fucking do that.
he breathes in, deep.
“i’m sorry—for moving too fast,” his hands fist. “i’ve been in love with you since freshman year. and i tried, i swear i did, to show it. but you always laughed it off. and instead of telling you outright, i just got more and more aggressive with it. i think part of me has always thought you’d never feel the same,” he swallows. “so i thought it’d be safer to show it than say it out loud. but that was only safe for me.”
he bites his lip. you’re still bawling into your hands, small and terrified, and geto‘s eyes sting. he can’t believe you’re shaking because of him.
“baby—“ he catches himself, “please don’t cry,”
“i hate you,” you sob, “i’m never gonna forgive you ever.”
he swallows. “you don’t have to. but please don’t cry,” his hands tighten on his jeans. “i don’t know what to do when you cry.”
and it’s the first time geto’s been honest, because he really doesn’t know. because you’ve never cried because of him, and normally if you ever cried at all he’d drag you into his chest but right now that doesn’t feel appropriate.
but he gets up anyways.
takes your hands from your face. and you’re so gorgeous even with tears on your cheeks, eyes glistening wet, lips puffed out & nose flushed from crying. and he wants to hug you so badly, but for now he settles for crouching to your height and wiping the tears from your eyes.
you glare down at him, and he should be scared again but all he can think is that you’re so fucking cute. your nose is all puffy and your eyes slightly red. “you’re such an idiot.”
“i know.”
“and this is so cliché.”
“i know.”
“and i want you too, but slower.”
“i didn’t know that.”
“you know it now,” you curse. “you’re an idiot, i swear.”
geto breathes. and then you cup his face, watching the way his eyes glisten with wet. “you still haven’t confessed to me, suguru.”
“i love you,” he says too quickly. “since freshman year. i think about you too much. you’re always on my mind, and i don’t want anyone but you, and i love you so much y/n and i’ll love you forever if you’ll let me—“
you interrupt him with a kiss.
BONUS !
“i can’t believe he said he wants you round with his baby.”
the project is long over, and today you’re on the countertop of the sigma chi kitchen, legs swinging as you gossip with sukuna. he has your plantain chips in his hands, leaning against the counter as he eagerly munches on the snacks.
“i told him to approach you calmly and honestly, y’know? told him girls love communication,” sukuna clicks his tongue. “nobody listens to me in this household.”
you laugh, “really? that would’ve saved him a lot of trouble.”
“right?” sukuna shakes his head, passing you a plantain chip. “he’s got his brain in his ass cheeks, i swear.”
you giggle, and right then, the door swings open. sato gojo bursts in with his arms spread out in glee. “we’re back!”
geto trudges behind him, holding too many shopping bags for one person. sato has already run towards his room, leaving you and sukuna confused—but then geto drops the bags to the floor with a thud. he looks up at you. “hey,”
sukuna absentmindedly blocks your head with his own. “yo, man.”
“can you move your fat fucking head?” geto walks past him, ignoring the gasp sukuna lets out. he brackets you on the counter, forehead slightly sticky with sweat, chain glistening in the afternoon heat.
he murmurs, “hi, baby.”
“hi, handsome,” you cup his face. “back from your date with sato?”
“not a date,” he mumbles, kissing your palm, then your cheek, then your jaw. “was getting groceries.” he murmurs. “missed you so bad, pretty.”
you gigle, squeaking and squirming away as he attacks your face with kisses. he pulls back teasingly, smile smug, before you tug him back in by his chain. sukuna watches calmly, shoving another plantain chip in his mouth. he nods in approval of the flavor.
but he quickly grows bored. “don’t get too comfortable guys. i’ll whip out my dick and start stroking right now.”
“what...?”
“can you pretend to be normal?!”
before suguru can strangle sukuna, sato bounces back into the kitchen. his grin is clumsy, cap tilting off his hair, and in his hands is a machine that looks like a mini-tablet and a bunch of wires connected to pads at the ends.
꒰ summary ꒱ when a misunderstanding leaves your family convinced you’re bringing a plus one to your cousin’s wedding in Japan, the last person you expect to volunteer for the role is your infuriatingly observant intern, Satoru. it’s supposed to be temporary. professional. strictly off the record. but with your mother already sold on the idea of your mystery boyfriend, and Satoru proving far too good at the role, pretending starts to feel a little too dangerous. also, why is your “intern” secretly the heir to gojo corporation?!
꒰ tags/warnings ꒱ fake dating ⚹︎ undercover ceo! satoru ⚹︎ accountant! reader ⚹︎ satoru is 29, reader is 26 ⚹︎ lots of family pressure. reader has a complicated relationship with her mom ⚹︎ forced proximity ⚹︎ one bed trope ⚹︎ slow burn ⚹︎ mutual pining ⚹︎ wedding chaos ⚹︎ angst and fluff ⚹︎ some suggestive content but no explicit smut ⚹︎
꒰ authors note ꒱ hi cuties! this is a commission piece, and it is about 12k total. this first part is just shy of 6k and the second part will be out next week. i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 (art by @/hanamin_0123 on x)
main masterlist - part 2 >>>
"Oi. Boss lady."
“No.”
One problem at a time, and the spreadsheet in front of you wins by default. Because Column F is wrong. It’s been wrong for forty fucking minutes, and if it stays wrong for forty seconds longer, you may actually die here at your desk — hunched over, half-blind, and found by Shoko on a Monday morning with your face pressed into a pivot table like a cautionary tale.
"But… you don't even know what I was gonna—"
"—the answer is no, Satoru."
Unlike the human embodiment of a headache currently lingering on the other side of your desk, the spreadsheet in front of you is at least pretending to be important.
The chair beneath him creaks, and then comes the silence you know too well. It’s the one that comes right before he decides to be a problem on purpose. Attention is gasoline and Satoru is, structurally, a fire hazard. Still, your eyes flick up, and—
"No fair…” he huffs, that ridiculous pout tugging at his lips. “You didn't even let me finish the question."
Your eyes roll back down.
“Mhm.”
"And it was such a good question.”
You turn a page. "Really?”
“Yup.” He’s draped over the corner of your desk now, like gravity has wronged him, whining. “It was such a thoughtful… personal… deeply relevant… extremely genius level getting-to-know-you tier question that—”
You scowl. "—Satoru, enough. Just do your job."
It lands harder than expected. The sigh he lets out is deeply, theatrically offended. And when you glance up again, he’s sprawled over that same corner of your desk you made the mistake of clearing for him on day one because you’d thought, foolishly, that giving him a designated surface might contain him.
It had not.
Nothing about Satoru had ever suggested he could be contained.
Snowy white hair falls against his brow, sleeves rolled to his elbows; looking far too expensive and far too comfortable for someone whose official title is intern. His coffee is sweating beside your open planner — the one with a date next week circled in red: WEDDING, scrawled across the margin in your own handwriting. The condensation trails towards a stack of vendor invoices and—
…
Wait.
Are those the same vendor invoices you asked him to file yesterday?
Fucking great.
“Oh, c’monnn,” he grumbles, blinking at you over the rim of those absurdly expensive sunglasses he insists on wearing indoors. “One question. Just a tiiiiny one. It’s completely harmless. Humor me, yeah?”
You narrow your eyes.
“Satoru, you’ve been trying to ask one question for the last four months.”
“Yeah,” he says. “And you’ve been dodging it for four months. Imagine that.”
Technically… four months and four days. But who’s counting?
With an exhausted groan, your eyes fall shut, pinching the bridge of your nose. Noise drifts in from the hall — the elevator, the printer, a phone trilling somewhere nearby. But when you look up again, it all seems to fall away.
He’s gone strangely still. The smug grin hasn’t disappeared, but it’s softened at the edges, hooked at one corner with his head tilted slightly. And those eyes…
Oh.
That’s — no. You’ve seen his eyes before. Obviously. Four months of them. But right now, with the morning light doing something cruel and unhelpful behind him, they catch in a way that makes you forget you were mid-thought. The kind of blue that doesn’t ask if you’re looking. It already knows.
Which means of course, you look away first. “Fine.” Your hand drops as you mutter. “One question. But if it’s stupid, I’m sending you back to HR.”
It’s not much of a threat. It’s his last day, after all, and for reasons you still don’t fully understand, Satoru has always seemed oddly immune to consequences — which, frankly, feels statistically improbable given the amount of shit he’s managed to pull in the few months of being here.
“One question?” his grin sharpens. You point your pen at him. “Don’t make me regret this.” Yet his pleased chuckle is already making you. “Awhh… look at you. Finally yielding.” His pen twirls between his fingers, nodding with false solemnity. “Okay. So, here’s the thing… throughout these four months working beside you, I’ve seen a lot—"
“—that’s not a question.” You deadpan.
But ignoring you, he reclines back in the chair, hands clasped behind his head.
“Liiiike… I’ve seen the exact face you make when Mei-Mei emails you,” he smirks. “Even noticed you work through lunch more than you should. And I’ve noticed that little line right here—” he gestures vaguely between his own brows “—every time the budget goes sideways.”
Lips parting, you blink.
…why is he so observant?!
For someone who acts like he doesn’t give a shit, he’s strangely attentive.
You clear your throat, huffing. “Okay… what’s your point?” Your hands straighten a stack of papers that doesn’t need straightening. “Is there a question in here somewhere, or are you just reciting my habits back to me for fun?”
His grin is far too pleased. “Relax. I’m getting there.” And leaning forward, his voice drops, like he’s unraveling a conspiracy. “I just find it interesting how you answer work calls before the second ring. Every damn day. Doesn’t matter who it is.” His head tilts with a smug grin. “But for whatever reason, for the past month, your personal phone’s been ringing off the hook, and you never pick up. Not once.”
Heat creeps up your neck. Not because he’s wrong — but because he’s right. And he said it like it was nothing. Like noticing the pattern of your avoidance was just something that happened to him between stamps.
Oh.
Way too observant.
Shit. He couldn't have settled on what's your favorite color!? Or, what superpower would you have!? No. Of course he had to go for the fucking jugular.
His eyes drop to the planner lying open beneath the invoices. The circled date: WEDDING. And his grin sharpens. “Ohoho… I get it now,” he whistles, leaning back in his chair and kicking one leg over the other. “What’d your fiancé do to screw up this bad? Is the wedding off?”
Your head jerks up. “F-Fiancé?!” And he rolls his eyes with a scoff, still grinning. “Knew it. God, he must be really in the doghouse. Or maybe he’s just clingy as hell to be calling that much.”
You blink.
Okay. Nevermind. He’s wrong. That is not even remotely what’s happening. The most committed relationship you’ve had is the one with your coffee machine. And yet… part of it feels almost cosmically cruel.
Because somehow, this is the second time in a month that someone had looked at the scattered pieces of your life and decided a man must be hiding inside them. Except the first time, you never even got the chance to correct it.
After all… how do you tell your mother she’s wrong?
Last month, you still answered her phone calls.
Not because you expected anything different. But because somewhere between the second ring and the third, there’s this gap — this stupid, paper-thin gap — where you still believe she might ask how you’re doing and actually wait for the answer.
Some habits taste like smoke. Some burn like liquor. But yours, unfortunately, had always looked a lot like hope.
Hope is a terrible habit you’ve never been able to kick.
“Oh—uh, hi mom!”
Your phone was wedged between your ear and shoulder while you stepped out of your car, juggling your purse and what was left of your sanity. You were already behind schedule, and your mother was calling — which meant the day had already made its intentions very clear.
“What’s up?” the door slammed shut with your hip. “I’m actually about to—”
“—Trish sent the venue photos,” she blurted, launching into a conversation like always.
Blinking, you shook the bitterness away. Striding toward the towering glass of Gojo Corporation. “That’s—yeah, that’s great,” you muttered, badge in hand as you pushed through the front doors. “But I’m actually heading into work right now? So—”
“—It’s such a beautiful venue,” she ignored you. “Very traditional, very grand. But you know the Zenin family—they never do anything small.” And as she sighed in awe, you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.
The rational part of your brain told you to let this go to voicemail. But the rational part of your brain has never once won this fight. Because…
Hope is a terrible habit you’ve never been able to kick.
"Mom, I'm sure it's lovely, really… but I'm kind of—um, excuse me…" you pivoted around a man in the bustling lobby with a sigh. “Sorry. I’m literally walking into the building right now? But maybe we can revisit this later and—"
"—have you booked your flight yet?"
Your mouth flattened.
Clearly, your half of this conversation is optional.
“No… not yet,” you mumbled, as patiently as you could manage, jabbing the up button harder than necessary. “It’s been a crazy ass week so I haven’t had a chance to, but—”
“—every week is a crazy week for you.” The huff she let out sounded almost offended by the inconvenience of your life. “Why can’t you just book it now while we’re talking? I mean, it literally takes five minutes.”
A miracle, really, that your blood pressure isn’t a medical emergency.
Every week is a crazy week?
Yeah. No shit.
Two managers resigned last quarter. Another got escorted out by security. And their work didn’t disappear. No. It landed on your desk. Because that’s how it goes. That’s how it’s always gone. Group projects. Internships. End-of-quarter disasters no one else wanted to touch. If something needed fixing, it found its way to you.
You’re the one people relied on.
Just… never the one people chose.
“Mother. I’m at work,” you said, stepping into the elevator as the doors slid open, dropping your voice as you stabbed at floor fifteen. “Look—I’m about to walk into an eight a.m. meeting. But I’ll book it tonight, promise.”
“…eight a.m.?” she repeated slowly, before letting out a small, unbothered laugh. “Oh! Right. It’s eight p.m. here. Silly me. I keep forgetting.”
…
Keep forgetting?
She keeps forgetting that she’s ten thousand miles away? Forgetting that twenty years ago she abandoned you in another country to live abroad in Japan—handing you to your grandparents like a detail she'd get back to later?
How convenient that she forgot that.
The elevator slid shut, and you watched the numbers tick upward. “Um. Yeah…” you managed, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice. “Anyways. I’ll book it tonight. After work. Okay?”
"Okay, okay. Sure. Sounds good. But are you bringing anyone?”
Squeezing the strap of your bag, you swallowed the lump in your throat. This again? The last thing you needed was to walk into your shitty eight a.m. meeting looking emotional.
No thanks.
“I… uh…” you cleared your throat. “I um—actually—haven’t decided yet. But anyways, I gotta go, so—”
“Waitwatiwait. Haven’t decided? Does that mean… you actually found someone?!”
Her voice pitched up so fast it almost startled you, and your mouth dropped so low it could’ve hit floor one.
Shit.
“I-I—I didn’t say—"
“—oh, thank God. This is incredible!!” she squealed. “We’ve been so worried. I mean—Trish is younger than you and she figured it out,” her tongue clicked. “People have been asking questions, you know. Your aunt Sara keeps bringing it up every time I see her and—”
“—Mom, I—"
“—It’s about time,” The laugh she let out was relieved, like a problem in her life had finally begun resolving itself. “You can’t keep putting love on hold forever, because men aren’t going to wait around forever. You’re already twenty-six—not getting any younger, dear.”
Love?!
Who has time for that?
And why the fuck is twenty-six the age a woman expires?!
“What’s his name?” she pressed, practically beaming through the phone. “What does he do? Is he from there, or—oh, is he Japanese? Your father would love that, he always said—”
And she was off.
Spinning an entire man out of thin air. An entire future, really. Building him in real time from a tiny slip up you had because you were too tired and cornered and desperate enough to answer the phone in the first place. And you stood there, letting her. Because interrupting her has never once worked in the history of your life.
“—actually, never mind,” she chirped a moment later, as if she was being considerate now. “You have work. I’ll call tomorrow and you can tell me everything, yes? Okay, bye-bye honey—”
Click!
And just like that, the elevator went quiet. You were left staring at your reflection in the metal doors, phone pressed to your ear, listening to the silence where your mother’s voice had been.
‘We’ve been so worried.’
…
If they were so worried… why had you spent most of your life learning to take care of yourself? And yet, the second there might be a man, suddenly you’re worth getting excited about?
Funny how that works.
Scoffing, you lowered the phone, shoving it into your bag just as the elevator chimed open. Itadori Yuji’s head snapped up behind the reception desk.
“Morning, boss,” he waved, radiating sunshine as you walked towards the conference room. “Kento’s asking if you’re still good for the budget review at eight… or if I should just tell him to panic.”
Your smile softened, burying the sting. “Yes… I’ll be right there.” And as you stepped through the polished glass doors, you played the role you’d always played.
The reliable one. Twenty-six years old, with two master’s degrees, a career at one of the most competitive corporations in the world, and a team of seven that would quietly fall apart without you.
But…
None of that glitters quite like a diamond ring, does it?
“Oi,” Satoru frowns. “You’re makin’ that face again.”
“Huh?”
Blinking out of your spiral, your eyes trace back to the man across from you. His chin is resting in his palm, those impossibly blue eyes fixed on you with a quiet stillness that makes something in your chest trip over itself — like a lock turning in a door you didn’t know was closed.
“Oh.” You clear your throat, forcing the pen back into motion. “…what face?”
“The one you make when something’s wrong,” he says quietly, gaze unmoving. “When you’re upset and trying to act like you’re not.”
For a second — one terrible, unguarded second — you don’t have a single thing to hide behind. It’s just him, looking at you like your well-being is something he’s been keeping track of in a column you didn’t even know existed.
But then the sarcasm kicks in, right on time. "Wow," you say, forcing your hands back to the papers in front of you. "So… now you read faces?"
“Mm... nah. Just yours, sweetheart.”
And that grin — god, that fucking grin — hooks at one corner like he knows exactly what just detonated inside your chest. You don’t acknowledge it. Acknowledging things have consequences, and consequences with this man are not something you can afford.
"…that’s highly inappropriate," you mutter, shoving it down. "Let’s maybe redirect some of that insight toward the invoices, yeah?"
“Sorry, sorry.” He leans back, hands up like he’s the picture of innocence. “Wouldn’t wanna start shit with your dear future husband.” His grin goes sharp as he twirls his sunglasses between two fingers. “Though, wow. Tough look for him. Whatever he did, he clearly fucked up bad.”
Why does he sound… bitter?
No. You must be imagining it. This is Satoru. Satoru, who treats everything like a joke until proven otherwise. Satoru, who doesn’t care enough about anything to sound bitter over a man who may or may not exist.
You scoff. "You’re making some wildly stupid assumptions right now…"
He perks up at that. "Oh?" With his grin hooking higher, almost hopeful. "Wait. So, there’s no fiancé, then?"
Your lips purse.
What does he care? He’s not your mother.
“I wish you’d be this interested in your actual job,” you sigh, arms crossing. “Those invoices have been sitting there all week.”
“Uh-huh.” He tips his head. “And yet somehow, I noticed you still didn’t answer me.”
You frown.
What the fuck are you supposed to say!?
Oh. Um. Actually, Satoru, there is no fiancé. That’s the problem, actually! My mother invented him the other morning and I haven't worked up the nerve to call her back.
Yeah. No. You'd rather die at this desk.
“Maybe because it’s none of your business.”
“But I—”
“Drop it.”
He stares at you for a beat, then he flops back in the chair with a dramatic huff, long legs kicking out in front of him, mouth dragging into a sulky pout.
“Well, damn,” he grumbles, pushing his sunglasses up into his hair, rolling his eyes. “No wonder you’re single if this is how you shut people down…”
The second the words leave his mouth, he blinks. His gaze flicks up to yours like he hears it too late — like he realizes, all at once, how shitty that sounded.And it only feels worse the moment he sees your face.
God.
Of all the places to hit.
“Oho… wow. Okay. This?” you say with a thin, self-deprecating laugh, chair scraping as you shove back from your seat. “Yeah. This is exactly why I shouldn’t have let you ask, Satoru.” You reach for your planner, your purse, anything to do with your hands besides let them shake.
He straightens, watching you scramble. “Whoa. Wait. I—"
“—because you don’t know when to stop!” The words come out louder than you mean, blinking at the sting behind your eyes. “You just keep pushing and pushing and pushing until you get what you want. Well good. I hope you’re happy.”
Before you can turn away, he’s on his feet. “Wait—” And the moment his hand catches yours, you freeze, breath snagging.
His voice is quieter now. His grip is firm yet gentle, and the air between you shifts, while something warm and uneasy twists low in your chest. The kind of feeling that makes you want to lean in and run in the same breath.
Though your eyes stay down. “Satoru… let go.”
“I didn’t…” he starts, then stops, gaze flicking to where his fingers still circle your wrist — before climbing back to your face, slower this time. “I’m… sorry. I just—” His mouth tightens. “I see how hard you work, okay? I see it. And every time that phone rings, you get this look on your face like it’s already ruined your day before you even touch it. And…” His brows pinch. “Fuck. I dunno why, but it pisses me off!”
Your gaze hesitantly drags to his, and the look in his eyes is softer than they have any right to be — all that blue, stripped of its usual sharpness, turned careful. Like he’s stepping toward something breakable and knows it. Like… if he asked once more, something in you might actually give.
“Satoru…” your breath hitches. “I-I—"
“Oh, finally.”
Shoko’s voice trails in, and your head snaps up so fast your neck almost goes with it. She’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, coffee in hand — looking like a woman who arrived exactly on time for something she's been expecting all week.
Her gaze flicks down to where he’s holding you, and the corner of her mouth twitches.
"Sooo… not to interrupt whatever this is," she says, taking a sip, "but Kento's one eye-twitch away from a medical event. He needs you to sign off on the variance line before he starts reconciling his own will and—"
You're already jerking your hand back. "Yup—coming!" And as you step away, heat floods your face, but you don't look back. Not once. Not even when you feel him still standing there, watching you go.
Because looking back would mean acknowledging that something just shifted. And you are not — not — doing that today.
Unlike those invoices, perhaps some things are better left… unfinished.
You’re gone in a blur of heels, nerves, and professional self-preservation, leaving Shoko trailing behind and Satoru staring at the empty doorway like maybe the conversation might wander back through it.
It doesn’t.
And it’s not long before his mouth is pulling into a slow, petulant pout—just before he flops back in the chair with all the elegance of a man personally betrayed by the universe.
Un-fucking-believable.
He’d almost had you! After four months and four days of being stonewalled, redirected, and professionally shut down, you’d finally looked like you might give him something. A crack. A sliver. And then Kento had to ruin it with his stupid reconciliation sheet, his stupid earnest face, and his stupidly impeccable timing.
…
He could fire Kento.
Should he fire Kento?
As tempting as that thought is, Satoru settles for glaring at the empty doorway a second longer before dragging a hand down his face and raking it back through his hair. There’s no point. This performance will end soon. Because by this time tomorrow, he’ll be on a flight back to Tokyo. Where he can resume the slow, agonizing process of preparing to inherit a company he didn't actually give a shit about.
'Grow up, Satoru.'
'Apply yourself, Satoru.'
'You have no idea what it takes to run something like this, Satoru.'
Right. Because apparently, the heir to a multinational corporation needed to learn humility. Alphabetize files. Sit in a cubicle. Fetch coffee like some goddamn spreadsheet slut with a trust fund and nowhere to put it.
Four years of business school, two years shadowing his father; and yet, this is what they had for him?!
He scoffs. And when his gaze drops to the wreckage of your desk, he’s pulling the stack of vendor invoices toward him with a sigh that sounds put-upon even to his own ears. You’ve been nagging him about filing them for the better part of the week and… the least he can do is clear one thing before he goes.
The stamp thuds against the first page. Then the next. Then the next. And with muscle memory taking over, his face goes blank in the way it always does when boredom finally wins. It’s mindless shit. Still, he’s used to it. So naturally, when the phone on your desk buzzes, he doesn’t think twice; snatching it up, tucking it between his ear and shoulder as he reaches for the next invoice.
It’s probably another budget nuisance. Or Mei. Or one of the other thousand little crises that seem magnetically drawn to your extension.
“Yo,” another stamp echoes. “Satoru speaking.”
There’s a sharp inhale. “…who?”
His brow lifts. “Uh… Satoru?” Another thud of ink slams against the paper and he huffs, annoyed. “What do y’need?”
The line goes quiet for a beat too long. Before the woman on the other end finally murmurs, “Satoru…” Sighing in awe. “What a lovely name. Is that Japanese?”
"Uh… yeah?” he snorts, flipping to the next page. “I mean. Last I checked.”
“Mm… I thought so!” She giggles. And her voice pitches like she's just unwrapped a present she didn't know she was getting. “So… Satoru. Why exactly are you the one answering her phone, hm?”
…
Why the hell does this woman sound so invested? And why is she asking questions that should be obvious?
Frowning down at the invoice, he stamps it harder.
“Because it rang?” He says it like it’s obvious. “And uh—sorry, but. Maybe because I’ve been with her for months, so… why the hell wouldn’t I?”
"Months?!” A soft gasp crackles, far too delighted. “You've—you've been with her for months?!"
"Mmm… four months and four days, technically."
He’s been her intern for that long.
That’s the question, right?
"—technically?!" she squeals, like the word personally seduced her. "Ohmygoodness—oh, this is perfect. Four months and four days—that is so specific.”
He blinks. But she doesn’t give him time to process.
“Look at you Mr. Devoted. Keeping track. I was starting to worry she’d never find someone like you. Every time I asked it's like pulling teeth. But I knew there had to be someone. I told her father—I said, there is a man, I can feel it.”
Pausing mid-stamp, the words slowly begin to catch up. Satoru straightens.
"…sorry. Who is thi—"
“—everyone is so excited to meet you at Trish’s wedding. I already reserved your seat and—"
Her voice keeps going… and going… and going. He pulls the phone away slowly as her voice echoes on the receiver, staring down at the phone in hand to see:
📞 Mom
Oh.
Oh, shit.
This is not your work phone. Your work phone is currently sitting at its dock twelve inches to his left. And it dawns on him that he accidentally just spent the last sixty seconds answering your personal phone like an absolute jackass and—
"Uh…” he backpedals. “Wait. I—"
"I told Sara, I said, we have to meet him and—”
"Stop. I-I really think—"
“—Satoru, what are you doing?’
His head snaps up at the sound of your voice, mouth dropping as he sees you standing at the doorway, eyes wide in horror.
Oh, fuck.
“Who is on the other end of that phone,” you hiss.
He winces, pulling the phone from his ear like it’s toxic — and you’re snatching it right out of his hand. He lets you have it without a fight, sinking back into the chair like he’s trying to physically dissociate from the situation he’s just created while you press the phone to your ear.
“And I mean…” she rambles. “I certainly was never one to wait around at twenty-six, believe me. But—"
"Mom."
"Oh! Honey!” She gasps. “Oh, my goodness, hi—I was just having the loveliest chat with—"
"I'm at work. Gotta go."
"—okay! I can't wait to meet Satoru, he—"
Click!
The phone sits in your hand like evidence.
And Satoru — to his credit — has the decency to look like a man standing in the blast radius of his own stupidity. His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. Like he’s rehearsing an apology in a language he hasn’t learned yet.
You stare at him.
He stares at you.
And somewhere ten thousand miles away, your mother is already calling your aunt Sara.
“Sooo… funny story…”
“—what did you do?!”
Satoru flinched, and now, the tears were already rolling down your cheeks — hot, fast, completely unauthorized. Not the kind you could disguise as allergies or blame on the air conditioning. No. The ugly kind.
Great. Fucking great.
You were standing in the middle of your own office, in the building where you work, crying in front of your intern. And Satoru felt the weight of it all at once. In the last four months, he had seen you in every flavor of workplace misery there was. Pissed off, stressed out, one spreadsheet away from actual murder.
But cry?
Never.
And this had his fingerprints all over it.
"Shit," he breathed, panic flashing across his face. "I—fuck. Okay. Please don't—I can fix this. I can—"
"Fix this?" A splintered laugh ripped out of you, and you hated how thin it was. "Fix what, Satoru? You just confirmed a boyfriend to my mother, a boyfriend that doesn't exist—and she is, at this very moment, probably already—"
Another break in your voice cracked, and you squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your hand to your forehead hard like you could hold the tears in by sheer force. But it only made it worse, because now you could feel the wetness on your own face, the heat of it under your palm, and the mortification landed like a second wave.
God. How fucking humiliating.
"Hey, hey—it's okay,” his voice softened. “We'll just… call her back. Right? Tell her it was a misunderstanding. Easy."
“Easy?” you scoffed, the word coming out strangled. “Y-You don’t understand my mother, Satoru,” you managed, voice gone thin as thread. God, you sounded like a child. “If she thinks something is true, then it’s true. That’s it. That’s—there’s no correcting her, there’s no walking it back, she’s already told my aunt Sara by now and Sara’s told Trish and—oh, fuck—”
Another sob tumbled out, and your fingers dug harder into your temple.
God. Stop it.
Stop it stop it stop it.
Think.
Think logically. You're good at this. You solve problems for a living.
But every time you tried to grab onto a thought, it slipped — replaced by the echo of your mother's voice, high and delighted. The happiest she'd sounded talking to you in years. Maybe ever.
…what look will she give you when you show up alone?
"I can’t," you whispered, and the word came out waterlogged. "I-I'm supposed to get on a plane to Japan in a week and—do what? Tell them there's no one? Tell them I'm still—"
Single.
The word sat in your mouth like a stone. You didn’t realize you’d gone silent until the silence itself started ringing — your sniffling, the hum of fluorescent lights, the muffled life of the office continuing beyond the door like yours wasn’t actively coming apart at the seams.
And through all of it, you could feel Satoru looking at you. His stillness; holding you with an expression you'd never seen on him before and couldn't categorize if you tried.
"Um…” he looked down, scratching the back of his neck. “Soooo... the wedding's in Japan?"
You blinked. “What?” And as you wiped your face with the back of your hand, his gazed tentatively flicked back up. “The wedding…” he repeated, voice careful. “It’s in Japan?”
"Yes." Your brow furrowed, not understanding. "Why?"
He didn't answer right away. Just looked down at the floor for a second, jaw shifting, like he was turning something over in his head — something he hadn't fully assembled yet but could already feel the shape of.
"Huh… okay."
Okay what?
You watched his expression change in real time — from guilt to calculation to something else. "Right then!" He said, clapping his hands once, bright and sudden. "No biggie. I'll just go with you."
No biggie?
Your mouth dropped.
That wasn’t even an option, was it?
…is he crazy?
“You’re kidding,” your laugh was awkward and breathless. His eyes rolled with a smug grin. “Sweetheart, c’mon,” and he was gesturing between the two of you like the answer was sitting there in plain sight and you were the only person in the room committed to not seeing it. "Your family thinks you're bringing someone? Cool." A hand pressed to his chest with theatrical solemnity. "I'm someone."
You stared at him. Genuinely stared.
Oh. He wasn’t kidding.
Yup. He’s crazy.
"You are not 'someone,' Satoru. You are my intern."
“Yeah. For like… another six hours?"
He checked his watch with a shrug, and your lips flattened.
"…that is not the point."
“Mm… feels a little like the point."
He smirked, but it faded faster than usual, dimming at the edges as his blue eyes hesitated on yours. Something shifted in his posture; the performance pulling back, like a tide going out. "Um… look…" He pushed off the desk, stepping closer. "It’s really no hassle." He said, hands sliding into his pockets. "I already have a flight scheduled. My family's in Tokyo. And I was going back after this internship anyway, so… this just moves my timeline back a little."
He was shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. Like he wasn’t agreeing to fly across the world with you and walk straight into the disaster that was your family.
…
His family’s in Japan too?
You barely knew anything about him. He kept his life sealed off with the same practiced deflection you kept yours — jokes in place of answers, charm in place of honesty. You never bothered to ask, because asking meant caring and that was a door you never intended to walk through with anyone.
But…
"Just… let me come with you. I’ll be your boyfriend for the weekend. For the wedding. For… whatever you need,” he said. And this time, when he stepped closer, there was no grin to hide behind. "I can be useful. I caused this. So… let me fix it."
Heat creeped up your neck, and you scoffed, weakly.
"Okay… but you can't fix my mother."
"No…” he murmured, tilting his head. His hand came up and brushed a tear trailing down your cheek with a careful gentleness. “But… I can make sure you don't have to walk in there alone?"
Your breath hitched, and when your eyes finally lifted, the morning light was being cruel again — catching in that impossible blue and turning it soft. Like stained glass dipped in sunlight. Like something holy made dangerous by the simple fact that it was looking straight at you.
“Mhn. So, do I get the job, boss lady? Because that look you’re giving me…” a slow smirk curls up the corner of his mouth. “Very encouraging for my boyfriend résumé, by the way. Might get addicted to it and wanna make it a full-time gig.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, looking away too fast to be convincing.“That was not a look. I was just—” You grimace. “…never mind.”
He’s chuckling as you brush past him. And his words are what scared you the most. Which was bad. Very, very bad. Because your mother was one problem. Japan was another. But Satoru looking at you like that?
Shit…
That felt like the kind of complication that didn’t stay neatly contained. And you knew better than anyone. Nothing about Satoru had ever suggested he could be contained.
a/n: hehe. this has been fun to work on! i am excited to share the next part. clearly i love these fake dating/fake marriage tropes aha 🙂↕️ bc this is like... what—my third time doing it? soooo i tried to change things up and make it feel less standard/generic :) but anyways, like i said pt 2 will be out in a week, pls lmk if you wanna be tagged 💖
✧ synopsis: you spent most ot your life convinced that your over independence and unapologetic personality were just means to protect yourself. then suguru geto came along, tore down your walls, and made you fall hopelessly in love with him. but what happens when you discover that his devotion was nothing but a paid assignment?
✧ pairing: patrick verona! suguru geto x kat stratford! reader
✧ warnings: college setting, alt! suguru, gojo's here too, yuki is our sister, slowburn, pining, falling in love, he's down bad, drinking, parties, first kiss, regret, hurt/no confort, angst, complicated feelings, heartbreak, possesive! sugu, ex! choso, fluff. smut, solo mastubation!m->and he's so pathetic abt it!, suguru has piercings, making out, panty sucking, oral f! rec, hair pulling (suguru rec.), dry humping, unprotected piv, pussydrunk! sugu, aftercare + confessions. WC: 13.4k
✧ a/n: currently sucking my wifes toes for letting me be a part of her romcom event @uzugeto <3 and also thank you for reading through this. based on the movie "10 things i hate about you". 《 fanart by @chu-cho | divider by qtdecor 》
life was easy for a mysterious social reject like suguru geto.
famous around campus for being 'the worst of the worst', his reputation preceded him—people usually steering clear of him in hopes of not being set on fire like he'd been rumored to have done before… or just get eaten alive like that one duck a few months ago.
which, of course, are things only morons would believe; but thankfully, there were plenty of those at the university he was attending—plus, it helped keep up his 'unapproachable bad guy' persona—and there's probably nothing that geto hates more than superficial, incompetent people.
…with the exception of his friend, satoru gojo.
beneath all the money and dashing good looks that sorority girls and modeling agencies would line up for, satoru was nothing but a walking headache for geto; a cocky, self-centered, sometimes-fun-to-be-around headache.
that's exactly what awaited him behind the class doors he so-fashionably opened just a few minutes before the period would start.
you, on the other hand, have already been busy reading whatever anti-patriarchal book had currently caught your attention—because let's be honest, professor yaga's class is not all that interesting most of the time, so you might as well put your free time to better use.
comfortably sitting in 3rd row, legs stretched under the desk while flipping through the pages, you were almost unaware of whoever entered the class or walked by you—just as you intended; music blasting all too loudly in your earbuds for you to hear much.
not that there was much to be heard when suguru geto walked in. stealthy as a cat yet still managing to catch the gazes of a few people with the corners of their eyes as he sat in the desks at the very back.
MCR and linkdin park pins rattled as suguru threw his backpack onto the ground, earning a prying look from gojo, who was sitting next to him.
"you still a loser?" he quipped, elbows perched on the desk and smile bright as always.
"you still an asshole?" suguru shot back, leaning back into his chair and manspreading like he owned the place. typical.
"ouch. that depends. you interested in some fun?" satoru raised a brow.
"how fun?" —in gojo terms, speaking. their ideas of "fun" did not always align.
"that fun," satoru pointed towards you, who apparently, had the same stone-cold face you've always had on, rammed into your book as if socialising with the lower life forms around would kill you.
suguru was not that much of a loser to be getting no play. he managed. but at no point was he desperate or miserable enough to be okay with complicating his life with you.
"that's not fun, even for me," he replied, face twisting into a grimace.
"not even if i provide generous compensation?" satoru shot a hopeful charming grin
he huffed a laugh, "how generous?"
"how do fifty bucks sound?"
suguru shot you a look—only to see you smack your book against some poor soul's head. you may be pretty, but looks weren't enough to cut it. only glancing back at satoru was enough to let him read his thoughts.
"fineee, sixty." he whined. "take her somewhere. who knows? two negatives make a positive—she might be a match for your reclusive self."
nerd.
"what's in it for you, anyway?" he raised an eyebrow, glaring. satoru would rarely share any of his hook-ups (not that suguru would want any of them), much less pay him to get some play.
satoru sighed, leaning in. "i wanna make a move on her sister, yuki, but she can't date until she does." who knew getting some pussy would be so much trouble these days?
"so what?" suguru snorted, "you want me to play chaperone? keep her from getting a felony charge?"
"and hopefully you not getting any charges either, but that's besides the point—take her on a date, do something nice, help a guy out,"
the appeal was barely there.
just as professor yaga had entered the class, he gave you another look, feeling the last shreds of his dignity slip away. you had abandoned your earbuds on the desk, now (miserably) paying attention to your surroundings.
how bad could it be?
"a hundred." he sighed, sealing his fate.
"deal," satoru grinned, voice low, not to draw attention in the subsiding class.
suguru didn't know you that well—not that he's ever even felt a pull to do so either, but he's heard enough to form an idea in mind. you were a loner. intensionally so. you'd either be seen hanging out with your friend, utahime, or cursing out whoever was unfortunate enough to cross your path at the wrong minute—though you've always sworn they'd deserve it. least to say you were… opinionated.
but that wasn't gonna make suguru back out. he liked a good challenge—whether that be occasionally violating college rules and dodging expulsion, or going on a date with a certified man hater.
he'll make it work.
suguru had until the end of class to come up with something to swipe you off your feet. but honestly? he's got nothing, and it seems like resorting to his wits and charms might be the only hope right now—which usually, was enough for most girls to succumb to.
after gathering up his things and shoving the money in his back pocket, he wasted no time before following your trail as you walked out of the classroom through the sea of people.
"hey there, pretty girl," suguru tapped your shoulder, raven bangs waving in the air as he put on his most charming face.
unfortunately though, he was hit with an immediate glare.
"how was class?"
"pretty peaceful, until you decided to disrupt it," you gave him a faux smile, not bothering to look in his direction for more than two seconds.
"…talk about a touching first impression," suguru teased, walking to match your pace, "consider me intrigued."
"my mission in life," tsk. who even is this guy? "but obviously, i struck your fancy. so you see, it worked."
"pick you up on friday then?"
"oh right. friday, uh-huh," you snorted, quickening your stride. points for dedication, you thought—but you had better places to be rather than his company.
"what if i promise to take you places you've never seen before?" suguru asked, voice perfectly smooth and concealing how you're probably stepping on his ego.
"like where? your fathers garage? i'm good, thank you."
"i was actually thinki—"
"get lost, weirdo."
this was gonna be a little more difficult than he thought.
but, suguru was not one to give up so easily, and for the next week, he'd accidentally bumped into you more times than either of you could count. after your classes—he was right there to help you carry your backpack, even after you'd insist you didn't need any assistance. at the library? suguru seemed to take a liking to the same feminist novels you've been reading; you just have so much in common, right!?
well, you weren't exactly on the same page regarding this subject… but it's a good thing he's a dedicated man.
next stop? the music store.
it was a good day today. it really was. you and your sister got along, nobody seemed to make it their lifes goal to annoy you, and you managed to stop at the store and grab a few guitar picks and a cd of your favourite band's newest single.
but, of course, all of that just had to come to an end the moment you've seen none other than suguru geto lean against your car like an asshole.
"nice ride," he called out, snake bites piercings glinting in the soft light of the afternoon sun.
he cannot be for real.
"are you following me?" you spat.
"just passing by and saw your car. thought i'd say hi," geto clarified, watching you roll your eyes and simply walk past him. tch. dramatic.
"hi." you deadpanned, reaching for your door handle just as he slid sideways against your car, blocking your way and not letting you get in.
"not a big talker are you?" he pushed. deal or not, you've caught his eye.
"depends on the topic. your freaky piercings and 'can't take a hint' personality don't really whip me into a verbal frenzy."
geto tilted his head, pretending to get a better look at you, "you're not intimidated, are you?" he purred, the grin on his lips so begulling it almost convinced you—though, mostly, you just felt repelled.
"why would i be intimidated?" you snorted.
"most people are," he shrugged. truthfully so, geto wasn't known for having the most inviting personality—you just happened to be an indifferent hag about it.
"well i'm not."
"maybe. but i'm sure you've thought about me naked," he grinned, fox eyes trailing your features.
…and there goes the final ace up his sleeve.
"am i that transparent?" you asked, words glazed in irony, "oh, geto! i want you, i need you! please, take me to those bedsheets you probably haven't changed in two months!"
getos face has progressively dropped more with each sound coming out of your mouth which seemed to be enough for him to finally get out of your way and let you inside the car.
sigh.
right when you were about to get moving, another car pulled up behind you, not even bothering to park. mercedes' newest model in an obnoxious blue, and an even more obnoxious driver—satoru gojo.
he trotted his way out, abandoning his car halfway on the street and shooting geto a confident wink—most likely believing his previous investments are paying off. right… so, about that…
"do you mind?" you yelled in gojo's direction, hinting oh-so-sweetly to move his car the fuck out of the way.
"not at all," he replied smugly.
"fuck!" the scream he let out could've probably been heard from three blocks away when you carelessly reversed, hitting your bumper straight into his shiny, expensive car door and putting a wide smile on both yours and getos faces.
"whoops," you pouted.
and with that, you were on your way home. back to the comfort of your small apartment, which you've personalised and decorated so it truly felt like you.
so you put on some music, grabbed one of the countless sylvia plath books on your shelves and threw yourself onto the couch in hopes of having some well deserved moments of relaxation.
you should be in your element.
so why are you thinking about him?
☆
geto was positive you were some type of witch.
there was no other explanation for the way you pulled him under your spell.
at this point, he had to convince himself he was still doing it for the money. mentally clinging to that fading excuse every time he'd follow your trail just so he could collect more information and tips on how to get through to that stone-cold heart of yours.
he had to push aside the fact that he felt like a loser and actually do something about it; but it's like every time he comes near you, his charm and charisma evaporate into thin air.
suguru had to get in close if he truly wanted progress.
so that's how he ended up stopping your sister, yuki, after classes.
just at first glance, he could tell where most of your amiability probably went. smiling brightly and warmly, your sister walked by him after he'd discreetly dragged her to a less populated area of the campus. he couldn't risk anyone knowing his master plan just yet.
"sooo, why am i here exactly?" she asked him, her bubbly voice cutting through the momentary silence.
"you are here to help me get some insight of your sister's twisted mind," geto muttered, lighting the cigarette that parted his lips.
yuki laughed, studying his face for any indication that he's just joking, waiting for him to crack. it just seemed that unbelievable that someone might be interested in you. "wait—you're actually serious?"
unfortunately.
"please don't make it into a big deal…" getos eyebrows knitted upwards. just the thought of you finding out he came to ask your sister about you was enough to make shivers of regret creep up his neck.
"oh my god! i really thought she'd die alone!" she exclaimed; a sparce, uncomfortable silence following right after.
"'m not making any promises yet…" the thick, awkward tension that saturated the air seemed to target geto alone.
"okay, first off—she's not a fan of these…" yuki spoke, plucking the half-burnt cigarette from geto's hand and throwing it on the ground.
his face soured at the sight of the smushed tobacco, "so i have to be a 'non-smoker'…?"
"yup."
geto could only pout at her response.
"so… what does she like?" even if he was going to commit to the role fully, starting with the negatives has already lost him a point. "what's she into?"
"well, she likes pretty guys," yuki giggled lighthartedly, "so good luck with that!" geto scoffed mentally; the frown on his face able to be seen from a mile away, along with the disbelief painted on his expression. was he not pretty?
"buuut, if you really want to know, she likes thai food and listens a lot to that indie—angry girl music, or whatever it's called," yuki explained. "oh, and she's really into those feminist prose books she always carries around."
geto evaluated all the information, making sure to take a mental note of each thing. "so, what; i'm just supposed to buy her some noodles, a book, sit around and listen to girls who can't play their instruments?"
seems easy enough, he thought.
"have you ever been to club skunk?" yuki asked, "her favourite band plays there tomorrow, she's got tickets!"
geto defensively crossed his arms, his gaze briskly drifting in the distance as a couple of outcast memories flooded back from the depths of his mind. "no—no, i cant be there, alright?"
out of all places, did it really have to be the one where he drank until projectile vomiting all over the counters at eighteen?
"but don't you wanna see her?" yuki pressed, a scolding pout pushing out her bottom lip; although her real concern was her being able to date, rather than you.
"of course i do, i just—" geto muttered before cutting himself off. his mind reeled back to you, then back to his past experiences at the club; and lastly, to the money he's gotten for the sole reason of going out with you. lost in thought, the world around him seemed to fade for a moment before yuki snapped him out of it.
"…she's also got a pair of black panties if i'm not mistaken," she chirped with a devious smirk on her face, making getos eyes widen slightly.
was this a test? it felt like a test.
"very enticing, i'm sure," he narrowed his gaze before pulling back a step. "also—don't tell her i came to you, alright?"
"good luuck," yuki replied in a sing-song voice as she made her way off.
"thanks," geto nodded.
as soon as his head hit the pillow the coming night, geto knew he'll have a hard time falling asleep.
his intentions were fighting against the reality of the situation, one in which you didn't actually like him, in which he was paid to take you out. and the worst part of it? he couldn't stop thinking about it—about you.
staring at the ceiling for well past half an hour now, the only thing running through his mind was you—along with your unruly attitude and breathtaking smile. it was enough to bring geto to his knees.
his heart yearned to see you again, more than his mind would like to admit. he wondered what you were like when you were actually enjoying yourself for once, surrounded by people close to you—although, that thought made something stir within his chest.
a soft sigh escaped his pierced lips. he didn't want to acknowledge it, but the feeling was clawing from behind his ribs. he didn't want to see you with anybody else; smile at anyone but himself. in his eyes, you were meant for him alone.
geto felt that in his body and soul, the waves of realisation washing over, dragging him to the bottom and drowning him in the intoxicating essence of your mere memory.
his mind wandered, heedlessly picturing your smile—your lips, how they'd feel pressed against his cheek, drawing lower down his neck. how would you react if you saw him right now? would you be surprised? fuck… would call him pathetic?
the mattress beneath his toned body felt softer all of a sudden, as if hugging his frame; though it couldn't be a match to how delicate your touch would be, geto was sure of that.
too lost in the vastness of his imagination, the tent in his loosened sweatpants was only growing, along with the pressure in his bare abs. heat dripped off his body, his tan skin searing hot while thinking of you.
"don't… don't wanna do this, fuck—" geto squirmed under his breath, amethyst eyes squeezed shut. you'd hate him if you knew what was going through his mind right now, but it only made his cock harder.
frustration bubbled in his chest, a satin sheen of sweat coating his forehead as he dragged his hand over the growing bulge. geto couldn't help the groan that escaped him, his cock far too hard and sensitive under his veiled touch.
"i'm sorry, i need it…" he slurred, slipping his fingers under the fabric and curling them around his throbbing length. he imagined you sitting before him, right between his muscular thighs. geto heard your voice in his head, guiding him, guiding his movements as he began stroking his swollen cock.
"mmphh," he moaned at the slight relief, lips pressed together. his grip was firm and messy as it dragged back and forth around his length, using the ample amount of glossy precum as lubricant. the roughness of his hand squeezed and twisted with every pump, putting extra care over his reddened tip, just like he thought you would.
getos thick, silver rings felt cool pressed against his veiny shaft, making each motion feel more intense. his free hand gripped into the sheets beneath him, fingers curling into the soft material when the pleasure would rise above his ability to control himself.
his chest was heaving already, too absorbed in the moment not to rush. his need for release took over, and the pace of his hand increased, strong hips beginning to match the messy strokes until tears gathered up at his lashline, making the soft black eyeliner smudge around his violet eyes.
"oh god, fuck—fuck, i'm gonna—" geto whimpered, voice broken as his back arched against the mattress, "gonna—hngh—cum." he was breathless, desperately pumping his leaking cock until the warm, syrupy cum splattered onto his abs, coating his rings as the last spurts trickled down his tight fist.
he cleaned himself up, and once a few moments had passed and he'd regained control over his mind, the guilt following hit him like a train at full speed. how can something feel so good, yet leave such bittersweet traces behind?
geto could only groan into his pillow, letting the drowsiness seep into his bones and swallow his thoughts. he has one more shot tomorrow, right?
so much for 'good luck'.
☆
the hours passed by quickly until the evening finally came.
the quiet worry that crawled up his neck felt like a rugged caress in the back of his mind, reminding him of the unethical actions from the night before. geto couldn't let it show, though. not if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders… or impress you, at best.
after putting out his final cigarette, geto walked into the sea of people waiting inside. the scent of sweat mixed with the various notes of perfume lingered in the air, along with the faint aroma of alcohol, everyone around either dancing or drunkenly lying with their head on the nearest flat surface.
the voices of the singers currently playing reminded him of a screeching owl getting run over by a car, if anything; the speakers probably loud enough to rupture his eardrums and make a small part of him regret he even came.
but, his purpose for being there snapped right back into focus once he spotted you in the littered crowd.
a soft smile spread on getos lips before he could think to stop it. you were dancing, movements flowing and carefree as you spun to the blasting rhythm with your arms up in the air. nothing in the entire space looked as striking and lively as you did while the coloured lights painted your skin. you looked beautiful.
his gaze flickered between you and the bar as he made his way to it. no more than a few minutes pass until he's sipping from the liquor filled glass in his hand, seemingly unbothered and nodding along to the music once he notices you swaying over just less five feet away from him.
"just a water, please," you spoke loud enough so the bartender could hear. looking over to your side as you waited, suguru geto was right there, with a grin so massive on his lips that not even the glass in his hand could mask as he covered his face.
"if you plan on asking me out again, best just get it over with," you scowled at him, rolling your eyes.
"oh, it's you," he glanced over, setting his beverage on the sticky wooden counter. "do you mind? you're kinda ruining the atmosphere for me," he tilted his head, though the corner of his lips was curling upwards.
your gaze narrowed, "how come you're not surrounded by your usual cloud of smoke?"
"i quit," geto clarified, leaning in so you could hear him better over the music, "i've heard they're bad for you."
"oh, you think?" you snorted.
he took another sip of the alcohol before speaking, "you know, these guys 'the raincoats', they're not bad." now, that perked up your ears.
geto pushed himself off the chair before walking into the crowd, well aware you'd come after him after hearing him mention your favourite band.
"you know who the raincoats are?!" you yelled over the blaring noise, the disbelieving part of you wanting to ask him to name five songs.
"why, don't you?" geto smiled, pleased with your reaction. his eyes trailed down your figure, how the dress you chose hugged you just right, and how your smile seemed to light up your face.
"you know, i was watching you out there," he turned to face you, voice smooth but loud over the blasting music—even when it suddenly stopped, "i've never seen you look so sexy," he echoed throughout the quiet, chattering space, everyone around turning to look in your direction and breaking into laughter.
in that moment, though, your attention wasn't on them. it was on suguru, and how he didn't seem to be ashamed or even embarrassed for what he had said; the look on his face showed happiness, with a smile just as bright while he watched you laugh.
"come to chosos party with me," he offered, traces of warmth and longing in his tone.
another tune had started playing in the background, it was more subdued than the former, but loud enough to have to talk louder if you wanted to be heard. you glanced over to the band before speaking, the song was one of your favourites—and suguru picked up on that.
"you never give up, do you?" you smiled, and for once, the idea of spending time with him didn't seem so bad.
"w—was that a yes?" he raised his voice, curling one hand behind his ear pretending he couldn't hear you.
"no!" you laughed, stepping back into the moving crowd.
"well that wasn't a no!" suguru shot back, following you through the people.
"no!" you laughed again, heartly—looking back over your shoulder at him.
every step suguru took felt lighter somehow, like just being in your presence was enough to spark a flame in his chest. seeing you have fun and feel comfortable around him made it all seem like a dream he's had a hundred times beforehand.
he caught up with you, just like intended. what took you by surprise was the way he took your hand in his, pulling you in and spinning you around right when the peak of the song had started.
you gasped, the movement too quick for you to react—but it over before you knew it, and suguru caught you before he could feel the sharpness of your wits.
"dance with me," he leaned in, just enough for you to hear the purr in his voice, "lighten up, hmm?" he teased, quick to cut your protests short, and even quicker when he swept you off your feet, pulling you into the crowd and guiding your movements to his, matching the music's rhythm.
"let me go, you psycho!" your complaints were all but empty, broken between laughs, and blatantly ignored by suguru. his hands slipped from your shoulders all the way down to your hands, interlocking his fingers in yours before lifting them up into the air.
"not happening," he grinned, letting your movements flow in tandem.
the vast space of the club was basically crawling with people, dancing and moving from one place to another, the air heavy with smoke and heat—yet all you were aware of right now was eachothers presence, and how the subtle intimacy found its way through the fissures you let happen tonight.
sweat illuminated your faces as you continued swaying to the rhythm, fatigue slowly catching up to you and giving your cheeks a red hue.
"i'm tired!" you exclaimed, a smile still adorning your face even through the ache in your feet. thankfully, the song had ended before long after, and only then did suguru finally let go of your hands.
"come on, let's get you some water," suguru coaxed, waiting for you to step forward before following your trail, "or would you prefer i carry you all the way there?"
"something tells me you'd enjoy that more than me," you teased back.
once you sat down at the bar, the wicked voice in the back of your head encouraged you to favour a glass of cranberry vodka rather than some water. once your lips pressed to the cold rim, the sweetness soothed the stinging burn of the alcohol, leaving you with the slightest weightlessness in your limbs.
you glanced over to suguru, "that was maybe a little fun."
his elbows were perched on the wooden counter, a playful smile making its way onto his studded lips, "was that a compliment?"
"don't get used to it, geto," you snorted, taking another sip from your glass.
it felt weird but, you were starting to notice things you haven't before; like how his onyx hair seemed to fall so perfectly around his face, or how he fidgeted with his rings right before he was about to say something. it must've been the alcohol tainting your mind... but your heart has never felt so drawn to another person in a long time.
"i'll try my best," suguru grinned. his amethyst gaze caressed over your features, taking in every detail, every expression, as if it were a sight he'd be content with seeing forever and still not be enough. a soft knit formed in between his eyebrows as he glanced away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, almost afraid to overstep, "so…"
"so…" you sustained, waiting for him to continue.
"what's your excuse?" suguru asked, his voice low.
"for…?"
"for acting the way we do," he explained, studying you.
"i don't like to do what people expect…" you answered, "why should i live up to other people's expectations instead of my own?"
"so you disappoint them from the start, then you're covered, right?" suguru pushed, though he wasn't exactly wrong.
"something like that, i guess."
"well, then you screwed up," he said softly.
"how is that?"
"you've never disappointed me," suguru stated, without a trace of dishonesty in his tone.
his answer made you feel bare. after spending so long building up your walls, he's walked right past them in a way that didn't make you feel afraid of being seen.
the taste of alcohol lingered on your lips again, though the sweet aftertaste wasn't quite as strong as before. one glass turned into two, two turned into five… and that eventually led to a good time, until you were too drunk to stand up…
you hung onto suguru like a magnet as he helped you exit the bar, your mind far too fuzzy and your limbs too heavy to be doing any of it yourself.
"this 's so patronizing," you complained, eyes half lidded and barely able to see something that wasn't spinning.
"leave it to you to use big words when you're wasted," he groaned, basically dragging you up the steep hill leading to the park nearby.
"i don't think sooo," you chirped, sluggishly walking until you accidentally stumbled over air. suguru helped you up, his hands holding you from under the arms like a toddler, "why are you doing this, though? you don't care if i live or die," you mumbled dramatically.
"of course i do," he replied with a grin, setting you down on a swing.
"why?" he took your hands in his, "because then i'd have to take out girls who actually like me," he teased, eyes set on your wobbly figure.
"as if you could find one," you shot back, smirking as you leaned against the chain of the swing.
"see, that— who needs affection when i have blind hatred?" suguru chuckled.
"wait—just, let me sit down for a while," you mumbled, not really taking in his witty remarks. everything felt floaty, like you could fly away or sink into the ground at any moment.
you took a few deep breaths, letting the chilly air fill your lungs and ground you—and that's all it took for you to lose your balance and almost fall off the swing if suguru hadn't been there to catch you.
thanks to the alcohol, you could only laugh at the misfortunes of your own doing, suguru asking if you're okay going in one ear and out the other—of course you were!
he sat down on the swing next to yours, finally getting a moment to catch his breath. a part of him was glad he was here to take care of you, but the other felt guilty for how far he's let you go.
"you've had a good time… right?" he asked you softly.
"i… i—yeah…" you've gone quiet before being able to finish the sentence properly, your head lying against the chain while you slumped over with your mouth parted.
"nonono, hey—you have to wake up, okay? stay with me," suguru jumped, crouching down to be head-level with you while lightly slapping your face with the tips of his hands.
you've only been passed out for a couple of seconds before you woke up again. you were in a haze, starry eyes looking up and straight into sugurus as he held your face, his thumbs brushing softly over your cheeks—and for a moment, he could've sworn his knees got weak.
"your eyes have a little violet in them," you smiled, almost lost in the purple hues.
but, all good things come to an end, and sugurus warm smile was the last thing you saw before involuntarily hunching over and hurling your guts out.
"alright, that's good…" he frowned once you 'cooled off', pushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face, "you feel better now?"
"a little, i think," you sighed, "never drinking again."
"good," suguru huffed a laugh, reaching to take your hand, "i have some water in my car, let's get you home, okay?"
you groaned, linking your hand to his as you got up. the alcohols effect hadn't worn off completely, otherwise the embarrassment you would've normally felt would be a hundred times worse.
suguru's car was nicer than expected, a black, older model chevy, that was also surprisingly comfortable. the ride back to your apartment felt like a breath of fresh air after all of the chaos that has happened beforehand, quiet music playing through the radio.
"you wanna start a band?" he asked, gaze drifting between you and the road.
"no, i wanna sell car stereos," you scoffed, smiling, "yeah, start a band. i'd like that.
"mm, yeah, i can see you doing that," suguru agreed.
"oh, so now you know me?" you asked mockingly.
"i'm getting there…" he replied, looking over to you as he parked outside your home.
a moment passed before you answered, "the only thing people know about me is that i'm scary…" you spoke, voice somewhat quieter than usual—unsure, or maybe too aware.
"yeah… well i'm no picnic myself," suguru stated, matching your tone. the lampposts outside were the only source of light steeping though the window, making the rings on his fingers glimmer as he lay his hand atop the steering wheel.
you looked at him—really looked at him, past the harsh contrast of his exterior and what everyone deems him to be. you let yourself see the carefulness in his actions, the honesty in his voice; get lost in the warmth of his eyes.
"they don't know you, not the real you, anyway," he reassured.
"you're not as vile as i thought you were, suguru," you smiled, making him let out a light chuckle.
your chest felt warm, heart thrumming beneath it all of a sudden. everything felt so quiet—so real and intimate, like the only choice you had to make had already been written down for you. instincts had taken over as you closed your eyes and leaned in, waiting for his lips to press against yours just like you needed.
but the kiss never came…
just his voice, cutting through the deafening silence,
"maybe we should do this some other time."
you felt your heart sink to your stomach. a mixture of hurt and disbelief painted on your face.
your breath was shaking as you got out and slammed the car door in your wake. you couldn't stay here, not when he's made you feel so stupid.
"fuck…," shallow curses slipped under suguru's breath. his face was pressed against heels of his palms as he leaned into the steering wheel.
he couldn't do it, not right now. not when the alcohol was still clinging to your senses.
he wanted it to be a special moment, would have waited however long necessary for it to happen as it should.
now he's watched any chance that might've remained vanish, get torn away from his very fingertips.
and the worst part of it? you probably hated him right now.
even after the multiple attempts of trying to see you, you avoided suguru like the plague.
you couldn't let him win by giving him the satisfaction of thinking he can just get away with what he did.
and maybe you didn't cry, but the cuts of opening up to him just to get played went deeper than you'd like to admit. you replayed that night so many times in your head, wondering if you really were the one at fault, or if he was just an asshole.
you're still torn between the two.
suguru on the other hand, was running out of options.
you've been skipping the only class you shared with him. he even went to the music store hoping to catch you there, though you preferred tuning some random guitar rather than acknoedge his presence. when slipping notes into your locker only proved a further lack of results, suguru knew he'd have to resort to more drastic attempts of regaining your attention.
and that meant spending almost half of his savings buying you that guitar he saw you with.
plus, spending that much money after accepting some to take you out would make it even, right?
(wrong, but it was nice to think that.)
that's how he ended up writing you a small letter reading 'can we talk? pick you up tomorrow after class.' and tucking it neatly beneath the guitar strings. with a little more help from your sister, suguru managed to leave it in the passenger seat of your car, just waiting to be found by you.
to say you were positively surprised when you saw it was a slight understatement.
you didn't need a name to know who it was from. maybe suguru really did see through you far enough to get past the surface level, and maybe that wasn't such a bad thing. you didn't want to give your trust to him again just yet, but the push you needed to give him another chance made its way back into the light.
tomorrow came by fast after you'd spent the rest of the evening testing out your new gift. strumming each cord and mindlessly matching the notes to the song that was playing when you met that night at the bar.
so now here you were, standing face-to-face with suguru right outside your classroom—who definitely hasn't been waiting for the past twenty minutes just to make sure you won't sneak away before he could get there.
you'd be lying if you said that nothing stirred in your chest upon seeing him again. his inky hair was tied up in a bun, only the bottom half remaining free and flowing over his shoulders. subtle black eyeshadow was smudged lightly around his eyes, making the violet in his gaze so striking it seemed intentional. you couldn't deny the fact that you missed this sight.
"you can't just buy me a guitar everytime you screw up, you know that, right?" you initiated, a faint smile tugging at your lips.
"well, hello to you too," suguru mused, leaning against the lockers. considering you haven't immediately started the conversation by cursing him, he'd say things were going on the right track. "you did like it though, right?" he asked.
you should like it. he's stalked you well enough to know it was your favourite model.
"i do, yes," you trailed off, eyeing him.
"i'm glad," he shrugged, giving you a subtle grin, "i was running out of options."
"so you'll indulge me?" suguru continued, pushing his weight off the lockers and reaching his hand out to you.
"i wouldn't go that far just yet," you bit back a smile, beginning to walk off.
'yet' is all suguru heard though, even as he felt your ever-so-cruel intentions of tearing his heart to shreds with every step taken away from him.
it only took a few long strides for him to catch up to you, points for having legs as long as half of your height.
for the past twenty minutes, the small talk seemed to create more tension rather than release any—for you at least. you probably asked suguru "how long until we get there?" more times than a toddler on their first road trip, although he'd insist on not telling you where you're going even. you were on the teetering edge of calling the police to report a kidnapping.
shortly after the five hundredth exasperated sigh suguru let out, you finally arrived at the intended location; at the docks. not for any ferries or ships, but paddle boats.
"is this supposed to be the government-level secret you were so unwilling on letting me on?" you asked, amused.
"thought a quiet, secluded place like this might be more fitting," he shrugged.
"certainly fitting if you want to kill someone," you snickered, walking by his side over to the little ticket stand.
"in broad daylight? tsk, who do you i am?" suguru asked—deeply hurt and offended by your accusations.
"fair enough. but you're paddling." you warned, watching him pay for the tickets before handing you yours.
"right away, princess," he smirked, walking in front of you to the paddleboat and holding your hand to help you on-board. the sneer you gave him was almost involuntary—even though you might've been touched in the slightest bit by the courtesy.
the warmth of the sun entangled itself with the soft breeze swaying above the lake, the feeling of it reminded you of silken ribbons brushing over your skin. a brief moment of silence took over, the only noise being heard being the quiet sloshing of the water as you paddled further into the lake. you looked over to suguru; sleek strands of hair were dancing in the wind as he looked into the distance—not lost in thought, but as if something weighed on his mind.
his gaze drifted into the ground; the stillness made your skin crawl, and that wasn't going to change unless one of you spoke up.
"why did you take me here, sugu—"
"i'm sorry," his head snapped towards you, voice mellow yet somehow hurried as he cut you off. anything you might've thought you wanted to say got stuck in your throat at the sight of suguru's knitted eyebrows and doleful eyes. the apology took you by surprise.
"i wanted to have a chance to explain myself," his hands were in his lap, sunlight reflecting softly off his rings as he chipped away at the black polish coating his nails; a habit of his you've noticed oftentimes when he'd try gathering his thoughts, "i understand how i may have come across last time…"
"yeah…" you mumbled, unaware of what to say but keen on what he has to say.
"that was the last way i wanted things to go," suguru stated carefully. "the risk of seeing you again only for you not to remember… or even regret what had happened… turning you down seemed like the best option in that moment," he continued, finding your gaze, "even if it pained me to do so."
you could've sworn your heart skipped a beat upon hearing the last words. his eyes felt heavy on yours, glints of hope and guilt visibly sparking the same emotions in your chest—which suguru was quick to pick up on.
everything felt stuck in time, your thoughts, your surroundings—just swallowed up by the setting sun as you stared into the distance, a part of you wanting to protect herself by avoiding the situation, while the other strived for an answer to give.
"i just didn't want you to feel played."
suguru stole your attention once again—regret, regret, regret—is this what would've ended up of your heart? what would happen if you followed through? or is it just another tactic you made yourself believe in order not to risk becoming heartbroken?
the piles of proof suguru had given you about his intentions could form walls around you by now—just staring back and mocking you, telling you how stupid you are for believing otherwise. he is good, you were just to scared to admit it.
"what does that mean now?" you asked him.
"whatever you want it to mean," suguru said softly, a light tilt in his head as he looked at you, "i'm here now."
a pacing silence followed before he broke it once more with a forlorn chuckle, "it would suck if it didn't mean anything, but if that's the case—"
"kiss me."
"wha—"
your body moved without you, lips crashing onto his in the fragment of a moment in which it all felt right.
awe and surprise was laced into the sweet, minty taste of sugurus lips as they prudently interlocked with yours, his hand slipping over to cup your cheek once he got the confidence to lean in deeper into the kiss.
he tilted your head to the side to gain better access, his thumb brushing over your skin with a gentleness that turned you to putty in his hold. it felt surreal almost—for both of you, but falling into place like two pieces of a puzzle.
one hand wrapped around his forearm while the other reached to brush his hair back. the initial shyness of the kiss melted into a slow, easy comfort. his lips moved against yours at a languid pace, the familiar cool touch of his metal studs becoming a sensation you no longer just tolerated, but craved.
suguru broke away from the kiss first, but both of you were left breathless. the warm, orange hues of the sun painted over your skin like spilled honey, melting into the quiet space between you. for a moment, neither of you moved; his hand remained on your cheek, his touch soft and featherlight as he pulled you into his side.
"who could've guessed you tasted so sweet?" suguru purred smoothly, despite the chaotic rhythm of his heartbeat thrumming in his chest.
"don't get sappy now," you chuckled. there was an effortless warmth in resting your head against sugurus shoulder, a comfort that quickly became second nature.
the rest of the evening snapped by faster than you felt; paddling back to shore whilst in each others arms, listening to music on the car ride home—and before you knew it, you were back on the doorstep to your apartment, the kiss suguru had left on your forehead previously still lingering on your skin and letting butterflies roam wild in your stomach.
not long after you'd settled in bed, ready to go to sleep, your phone rings—a text from suguru, no less.
you crawled closer to your phone and unplugged the charger—the battery almost dead after having spent the past two hours on the phone with utahime, yapping and giggling about how your day had gone with him.
suguru: hey, i forgot to ask you earlier. you'll come to tomorrow's party with me, right?
suguru: no need to answer that. i'll pick you up at 7pm.
you couldn't help but smile at his determination, but you asked yourself, was a party really the place for you? especially when your ex was the one hosting it? whatever, you replied before being able to overthink.
you: do i have a choice?
suguru: nope. see you tomorrow
you: who knows, plans can change until then
suguru: goodnight to you too, princess:)
you: goodnighttt
☆
normally, you wouldn't be bothered to apply any makeup or dress a certain way—much less for a man—yet all day all you were able to think about was the way sugurus gaze trailed down your fancy, dressed up figure that night at the bar. would it be so wrong to want to pull that reaction out of him again? a little eyeshadow and a little black dress never hurt anybody afterall.
the knock on the door came sooner than expected, ten minutes earlier to be exact, but thankfully, you managed to finish your look by then. a few puffs of perfume and your purse were all that was left on your way out.
you couldn't blame suguru for being a little impatient to see you, right?
but even if he knew how just beautiful you looked before opening the door, his eyes would have sparkled all the same.
to say he was speechless was an understatement. his lips parted, but all that came out was an awkward "hi" as his gaze flickered, unknowing where to stop.
"hi," you replied, biting back a smirk after seeing his reaction—just what you intended, maybe even better, "you don't look half bad."
a lie. he looked apatising to say the least, even though not much was changed from his usual look. the worn leather jacket was still hanging off his shoulder, letting view of the way his black, fitted t-shirt accentuated his figure—biceps especially. a few thin, silver chains dangled over his chest, a perfect contrast with his rings and piercings, while his hair laid freely like spilled ink.
"i—thanks," suguru huffed, stumbling over his words.,"you look amazing."
"why, thank you," you coaxed, "should we throw the party on my doorstep, or…?"
"i wouldn't be opposed to it," suguru raised an eyebrow, his grin wiped off his face right as you smacked him in the arm. "after you," he teased, unlocking his car as he made way for you.
chosos parties weren't like the others, where the space would be crawling with drunks, fights and loud, deafening music. maybe that was a part of why you agreed to come, or maybe it was just an excuse to see suguru again.
his arm was wrapped around your lower back as you entered, a gesture you weren't exactly opposed to, surprisingly. the smell of weed, tobacco and hard liquor was the first thing that greeted you once you made a few steps in, strong enough to make a part of you regret you even came. a few familiar faces were scattered throughout the rooms, and double the gazes watching as you came in with suguru.
the thing about smaller, quieter parties was that naturally, peoples attention would be drawn a lot easier.
including chosos.
a low tune played in the background, one of your favourites, actually, as you hid away on a couch with suguru. leaning into his side as if it were your rightful place, you nodded along to the music while yapping something about your history teacher being a pervert—he wasn't really listening, too busy admiring how your legs looked in that dress.
that wasn't a problem for choso, though; smoothly cutting through the crowd before approaching you.
"hey, you enjoying the party so far?" choso spoke up, raising both you, and sugurus glances, "you look beautiful, by the way.
that was enough to make sugurus hand wrap just a little tighter around your waist, aware of how choso only reffered to you, as well.
"it's not too bad, i guess," you and choso didn't part on bad terms—more like differences of opinion—and even though its been more than a year since your breakup, he knew you well enough to know that what you said was a compliment.
"glad i could level up to your standards," choso chuckled, "let me know if you want anything, i could show you some of this new stuff i got, if you're intereste—"
"she's not, thanks," suguru cut him off. the more choso talked, the more it got harder for him not to snap. does he have the right, though? a kiss didn't mean you were his.
your attention flickered between the two before reassuring choso of what suguru said. you could tell how the energy shifted, how his hold became firmer and his tone sharper. it would be a lie if you said you weren't enjoying it.
"thought it would be nice to ask anyway," he smiled. and oh, if only looks could kill, choso would be dead by now.
"so, you know eachother?" suguru caved, looking between the two of you. the sear in his chest felt irrational, but he couldn't shake it.
"if you can call it that, sure. it's been a while, though," you bit back before choso got the chance to, knowing his response would not match yours.
"ouch," choso gave a half-smile, "sorry, are you together?"
as if the tension couldn't get any worse, the few seconds of silence that followed felt like a whole hour had passed. you had no answer. no idea of what to say, only the slightest hope that suguru would say yes.
and so he did—his tone firm and sure, masking the worry beneath perfectly.
by the time you managed to process the storm of emotions rushing through your chest, choso had left, letting out a halfhearted apology and goodbye before turning on his heel.
you could feel your heart pounding in your ears, surges of heat and something you couldn't quite name flowing through your veins. you weren't sure if the look you gave suguru reflected how vulnerable you really felt, but your voice surely let it be known.
"what was that about?" you asked, your voice thin and breathy. the possibility of him just saying that to get a rise out of choso scared you.
the sharpness in sugurus gaze evaporated into thin air once he caught you back in his view. music and chatter dimmed into nothingness, the softness in his eyes igniting a spark in your heart that only he could set aflame.
there was no need for a verbal response to know what was next. sugurus closed the distance within the blink of an eye, his lips merging with yours into a kiss that seeped of need and devotion.
your mouths swayed with no particular rhythm, a constant push and pull of your desires blending to eachothers will. involuntarily, you went in to cup his face, feel him, pull him closer, which only made suguru suck in a sharp breath as he slipped his hand over your thigh.
a swift moment of clarity washed over you, reminding you where you are still, and the amount of people just hanging around. you broke away from the kiss, a string of spit left in the wake of your flushed lips.
you wanted him in ways that were concerning to feminism.
"hey," you spoke, breathless.
"hey."
"we should get out of here."
"yeah," he agreed, seemingly entranced as he got up, letting you walk in front and carefully dragging your dress lower from where it rode up.
suguru shut and locked the door behind as you entered the first room you caught empty. bounds were off, no one to interrupt or make this moment fall apart.
his leather jacket ended up somewhere on the floor—unimportant, the only thing worth his focus was the taste of your lips and how your body melted against his as he slipped his tongue into your warmth. low groans and whimpers fell freely now, each more intense with every hungry push and twist of his tongue.
searing heat rose up in your chest, spreading throughout your body as you slipped your hands under sugurus t-shirt, feeling every ridge of his abs and how warmth radiated off him. the pads of your fingers dug into his sides, desperate to have more of him. a lewd, loud whine escaped you just as your tongue clashed into his, letting you feel something you weren't aware of before. a tongue piercing.
suguru picked up on your reaction almost immediately, though already drunk on the idea of all the ways he could use his piercing to please you. his mouth trailed hot down the side of your neck, nipping softly at the tender skin and eliciting the sweetest sounds from you while simultaneously massaging the pillowy curve of your ass.
"tell me what you need, i'm here," suguru rasped, the warmth of his breath sending chills as he spoke into your neck.
"just you, sugu. need you," you panted.
"fuck, i need you too, baby," he breathed out, dragging his pierced tongue over the purpley-red hues decorating your skin. this feeling alone could send you into overstimulation, your body tense and trembling with want and anticipation.
sugurus hands slid up your back, making you arch into him and gasp when you'd felt his hands drag down the zipper of your dress, letting it slip off your figure and leaving you in nothing but the black, lacy underwear you chose for tonight.
"i know, sweetheart," he coaxed, his voice low and thick with lust, "it's okay, sugu's gonna take care of you."
he became your center of gravity as he led you backwards onto the bed. maybe it was the comfort of the mattress, or maybe it was the view of sugurus bare, defined upper body—but you felt on cloud nine.
the way his lips began a trail of wet kisses down your body reminded you soft feathers brushing over your skin, too. smooth, ebony hair cascaded over the sides of his head like silk as he made sure to give an equal amount of attention to all of you—starting with your jaw, the valley of your breasts, and down your abdomen. your composure breaking down without save, wetness soaking your panties and making them stick to your mound—just waiting to get peeled off.
yielding to your impatience, you reached to hook your fingers beneath the hem of sodden material, desperate to feel anything close of relief. any further motion was cut short by sugurus hand wrapping around your wrist, giving you a disapproving look from between your legs. his face was so near you could basically feel every huff of air melting over your clothed cunt, doing absolutely nothing to release any tension.
"don't tease…" you complained, no real bite in your voice.
"you gonna let me taste you, pretty girl?" suguru hummed, acting as if unwrapping you was something only he gets to do.
"fuck, yes—" your voice was cut by your whimper, or more like the tip of sugurus nose skimming over your veiled slit with the weight of a feather—which was more than enough to light up a spark in your devoid senses.
suguru felt intoxicated, a low groan escaping him as he mindlessly dragged his tongue along the darkened, wet patch of your underwear. it was almost too much for you to take in—how the lace barrier could feel so frustrating, yet distributing the pleasure much more vastly thanks to the way it clung to you like a second skin.
the feeling only amplified when his lips began working their part—sucking and slurping the honeyed juices seeping from your clothed cunt until drool was leaking down his chin. with ragged, shallow breaths, suguru kept his nose pressed against your puffy clit, anchored as if he couldn't get enough.
"mmph—fuck," you cried out. the motion made your hips buckle; he was relentless—tongue dragging and prodding at your entrance with no real reward. you were getting pissed.
the lack of patience and need for more made your body move on its own, your hand reaching straight for sugurus messy hair and pulling a nasty moan from his lips. "do it right if you're gonna do it at all," you retorted, observing the meek look on his face as he unwillingly parted from your pussy.
"fuck," he mouthed, and you could've sworn you also heard a quiet " 'm sorry" before he pulled your soaked panties to the side and hooked his arms around your thighs.
suguru wanted to take it slow, he really did; but his eagerness to unravel you took over, and it didn't take long for him to figure out which buttons to push. a hum of relief escaped him as he dragged his tongue through your folds, circling your clit and talking in the way your thighs twiched in his grasp.
"mm, is that it?" he purred, eyebrows knit as he looked up to see the weak nod you managed to get through.
"yes, you're doing s—so well," your breath hitched. there wasn't an ounce of control in sugurus pace; sucking and flicking the hot muscle against your clit, the pace he set up was desperate—designed to make you clasp your shaking thighs around his head.
his painted fingernails dug crescent moons into the plush of your hips, pulling you closer into the heat of his mouth as if the proximity still wasn't enough. your back arched against the bed, greedily chasing more of that overwhelming pleasure sugurus tongue was fucking into you. it was dizzying; your coherency succumbing to nothing more than a string of needy whimpers falling from your lips.
the knot in your stomach kept getting tighter with every excessive flick of his pierced tongue, the metal barbell forcing surges of intense pleasure as it repeatedly brushed over your sensitive nub. the feeling of your hole fluttering around his muscle made suguru moan shamelessly into your heat, thrusting and swirling his tongue until he could feel you getting close.
"keep going, please—suguru, make me cum," you gasped, clawing the bedsheets with one hand while the other was still snug in his inky hair, eagerly trying to pull him closer. his face was messy and dripping with your slick, the air in his lungs lacking as he made out with your cunt, his nose nudging against your puffy clit with every movement.
yout breath caught when the first wave of your orgasm hit, sending a violent shudder through your core that made your body buckle. suguru remained unyielding against your heat, his hands gripping the curve of your hips, pinning you in place and overriding the breathless shoves you gave him in your sudden sensitivity.
low hums escaped him as he licked away any remains of the sweet, creamy sap that trickled downwards. the taste of you filled his senses as it did in his dreams—tantalising, and irresistible, but that just wasn't enough for him much longer. suguru felt weak, yet his body moved on instinct. he rolled his hips into the mattress, completely intoxicated by your essence as he pressed his clothed, aching cock against the soft surface beneath him.
you didn't have much time to recover from your high before sugurus pierced lips began kissing up your body again. the warmth left behind made you shudder, realisation that this might not be the end just yet washing over you in waves of heat and anticipation.
sugurus large frame engulfed you as he hovered above, pure need dripping off his lips and on to yours as he cut the distance. the kiss was anything but tempered—raw, and desperate; his tongue slipping into your mouth and tearing each sound from you.
"see how sweet you taste?" he rasped, pushing his hips forward and making you gasp at the contact—all too aware of how his cock squeezed in between your bodies, stiff and throbbing; urging to feel your walls stretch around him.
your hands did quick work of undoing his studded belt, and helping him slide off his cargo pants. just the thought of being in this position made you nervous—would his cock be thick? have that curve you've imagined so many times? the material of his boxers was all that was separating you right now, but as you dragged your palm over his bulge you could feel the surge of buzzing heat rushing through your core.
neither of you could mask how badly you wanted eachother, half lidded eyes gazing into the other as if missing one moment was not something you could afford.
once fully undressed, sugurus cock laid stiff on your stomach—thick, and leaking, it almost went up to your bellybutton. the phantom feeling of it already making you ache on the inside.
"tell me if anything feels off, okay? we can stop, no questions asked," he spoke carefully, leaning in to press another kiss on your cheek.
"i want you, suguru," you replied, meeting his lips halfway. your heart fluttered for every moment spent together; each one bringing you up to where you are now, with the person that you are with now—who you wouldn't replace even if given a hundred chances.
suguru cradled you in his arms from above, your faces only centimetres apart as the warmth of his bare skin melted into yours. it all felt so real—so much like the reality you've craved since long before you've even admitted.
your breath hitched once he pushed in. the gentle, yet overwhelming feeling of his tip slipping in past your folds was intoxicating; how you stretched around his length, so slowly it let you discern every ridge and curve of him.
getting lost in you wouldn't be a difficult task for suguru, who could already feel himself slip away more and more with every inch buried. his lips parted, face beautifully framed by the silken black hair flowing—such an alluring look for someone whose heart nearly stopped working the second he had you so perfectly wrapped around him.
barely halfway in, suguru stopped; his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek so lightly one could believe he was afraid to hurt you. his violet gaze searched for yours, a silent request for confirmation.
"it's okay, you can move," you smiled, voice breathy and soft. the sudden stop made you squeeze around him, eager for more.
hushed moans left you once suguru began moving again. your hands found their place holding onto his back, while your legs stayed hooked around his waist. the angle made your abs tighten, each thrust measured so that it swept over your most sensitive spots. surges of pleasure spread through you like wildfire, your thighs starting to tremble thanks to the continuous build up.
sugurus breath faltered, low pants falling off his lips as he eased into the pace. he couldn't rush, not when savouring you was so much more compelling. the sound of your voice only spurred him on, feeling himself twitch within your sopping walls just by hearing it.
each collision was accompanied by quiet plap!, leaving behind strings of slick catching in between your bodies. your thighs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling him in closer before meeting his lips in a kiss. you let yourself be guided by him, too absorbed in the rising pleasure to even think.
suguru felt the change in the air; how your chest heaved, how you pulled him closer and kissed his lips. you took him apart, piece by piece. and made him fall into his urges and hasten his rhythm.
"shit—suguru, feels s—so good," you choked out a whimper, digging your nails harder into his back and making him hiss.
you were both driven by hunger and desperation, drunk on the pleasure searing beneath your skin. the kiss quickly escalated to a point where you couldn't get enough of eachother; tongues clashing and lips bitten.
"kept me waiting all that time—" he rasped into your mouth, accentuating each word with a sharper, almost punishing thrust, "fuck—can't stay away from you."
suguru pulled away first, pushing himself higher until his necklaces dangled above your face. nothing could make him take his eyes off you right now; he was entranced, feeding on the reactions painted all over your face.
louder, helpless moans ripped from your chest, mirroring the frantic rhythm of sugurus hips as he slammed into you. his cock split you open again and again, reaching so deep it made the coil in your belly feel as if it could snap at any moment.
you were dazed—neither of you coherent enough to say anything but eachothers names like a prayer. your body felt as if it were on fire, tense and overpowered by the feeling of your high approaching. you searched to press your face into the pillows, embarrassment flooding as your expression twisted in pleasure.
sugurus elbows were perched on either side of your head now, his hands cupping your cheeks and setting your gaze back on to him. "don't hide, need to see you—fuck, please baby," he pled, his voice uncharacteristically needy and soft.
"mmphh—oh my," you gasped, holding on to him tighter.
"gonna cum, pretty girl? yeah?" he panted. his pace was faltering, sloppy even; yet his cock still managed to slip in and out of your cunt so effortlessly, hitting every spot that mattered as if it were his only motivation. "gonna cum together, right? gonna let me feel that perfect pussy cum on my cock?" suguru slurred his words, eyebrows knit as he slammed into you praying he won't cum before you.
to say that suguru was in a state of bliss was an understatement; his mind was reeling, faded so that all he knew was the feeling of getting swept away by the currents of pleasure—with you as the anchor pulling him to the very bottom. he didn't mind it, though; suguru would gladly get swallowed by the ocean if it meant you being there to witness it—after all, you were the one able to give him air as well as take it.
and less could not be said about you, either. delirium flooded your mind, magnifying every touch with breathtaking intensity. you held on to suguru as he were the only thing keeping you alive right now, the threads of his being getting woven into the back of your mind and patching up spots you thought you've long forgotten.
he made you feel whole again; replacing the dimmed out light for a fire raging in your chest—stirring and spreading throughout your entire body until it consumed you from the inside out, making you shake and writhe beneath him.
"suguru—" you gasped as he leaned in until your foreheads touched, shattered breaths colliding as intimacy enveloped you. a few long, deep drags of his cock were all it took before getting pushed over the edge, your walls clamping and leaking down his length while he continued to drive into your dripping warmth, dragging out your orgasm.
"mine—mine, all mine," suguru whispered it like a chant, almost like he couldn't believe it still. it made you clench tightly around him, and that was enough to make him gasp as the air was cut from his lungs, "fuck, i love you so—haah."
you were up in your own head, dazed—hearing, but not listening to what suguru had said. whatever piece of you comprehended his words could do nothing but return the emotion, and you found those very same syllables slipping from your lips, unable to stop them.
"i—i love you too, suguru," you sounded breathless, and despite his craving to mark you fully, he pulled out—cock pulsing with each reliving spill of white, hot cum painting your stomach. his eyes were screwed shut, chest heaving and gleaming with sweat as he stroked himself, letting the last spurts of pleasure trickle down his flared tip.
strands of hair clung to his forehead as the rest cascaded down his back—it was a heavenly sight. but as the fog began to clear from your mind, it left you wandering the sharp, gutting edge of reverie, replaying those words in your head, unsure whether or not to blame your imagination.
the feeling of suguru using a damp cloth to wipe down the mess on your lower half is what snapped you out of your trance-like state. after sliding back into his boxers, he found his way next to your frame once more.
"you okay?" suguru asked softly as your eyes met, opening his embrace to welcome you in his arms. you nodded with a subtle smile, creeping up next to him. the following moments dragged out slower than ever, and you almost hated how comfortable you felt nonetheless; lithe hands caressing the side of your face, his lips pressed against the top of your head.
suguru picked up on your unusual silence though, and you felt the weight of his gaze, "what's going on?" he spoke lowly, brushing your hair with his fingers.
"did you mean it?" you replied, quicker than you meant. you weren't sure what to expect—whether your wishful expectations got the better of you, or that worry stirred in your gut unnecessarily.
the corner of his lips twisted upwards, inducing your undoing, "did you?"
his answer only made you feel more reluctant, scared even. you want to push it away and deem it as overthinking.
you want to trust the way suguru holds your beating heart in his hands.
you love him.
"suguru," you urged.
the ghost of a smile traced his pierced lips as he breathed out, the sound almost blending with the silence, "you know, i didn't have much hope the first time i approached you… much less the second, or even the third," suguru laughed, "you made me lose whatever speck was left of it."
"and yet i couldn't find myself away from you." his voice was laced with honesty, and you visibly sharpened your focus at those words.
"i wanted to know more about you, the reason why you steer everyone away when you're the most captivating person in every room."
your voice seemed stuck in your throat, and your breath hitched once suguru held your face in his hands and kissed your cheek, "i loved how bold you are," then the other, "i loved how funny, and sweet you really are," then pressed another kiss to your forehead, "and how you totally hated me." heat rose up in your cheeks as you both giggled at that, suguru looking at you as if bewitched.
then finally, his lips met yours in a short, tender kiss that spoke of nothing but devotion.
"and i love you."
your pulse quickened, just enough to make you crave more, to lean in and kiss him again—deeper, slowing time down just to let you savour this moment and etch it in your mind. "i love you, suguru," you replied, nearly out of breath.
a teasing smile spread on suguru's face, "mmh, when did you get so romantic?
"don't push your luck," you giggled.
oh, he wouldn't dream of it, not when everything felt so right. not when you looked at him like he was the only one for you.
the sense of fulfilment lived fiercely behind suguru's ribs, joy powering each frantic beat of his heart even after the shared moments of sincerity. you couldn't have said otherwise about yourself either, or deny the subtle pep in your step only suguru was keen enough to notice as you walked down the stairs to the first floor of the house.
the music died down, only a few, small groups of people remaining throughout the space, but none worth spending the rest of your night with.
that wasn't up to you though.
but to a very wild and wasted gojo.
you heard him long before you actually saw him. even after you and suguru had retreated to a quieter corner of the kitchen to enjoy your drinks, the sheer volume of his voice cut right through the distance.
"yo, suguru!" gojo's lips twist into a grin; he was adressing your boyfriend, yet looking at you, "looks like you got my money's worth!"
your eyebrows knit together, skeptical of what he meant. suguru's hand tightened unconsciously around your waist as he replied to the white haired man, "not the time," he retorted.
"why not, huh?" gojo laughed, feet dragging heavy as he walked closer.
people attention's been drawn like a moth to a flame by now, dozens of pairs of eyes watching the scene unfold. you've never liked gojo, he was arrogant and obnoxious, and right now, you were unaware whether or not to pay any mind to the word of a drunk like him.
"go away, man. you're drunk," suguru shot at him, echoing your thoughts as he strode over to hook his arm around gojo's neck, trying to guide him away. why was he so disturbed by his friend's presence?
"i'm gooood," gojo slurred, "how 'bout you, geto? you good? you get laid yet?"
you grimaced.
"or are you still playing house with her?"
gojo wasn't hiding in any way with what he said. he wanted you to hear.
your chest felt tight all of a sudden, heavy with the weight of disbelief—but one look at suguru was all you needed to confirm what you've heard.
his eyes were wide, locked with yours—though the image was growing blurrier by the second. murmuring a quiet "get the hell out of here," to gojo as he pushed him away, his steps were adamant on his way over to you.
you wanted to dissappear; to slap him and just ask him for an explanation all at once. everything played back in your mind again—'playing house'? suguru being next to you right all thanks to gojo's pretty dime?
you felt like a joke.
"hey—look, i can explain," suguru tried, reaching to hold your hands. his voice was low, laced with obvious shame.
you slapped his hands away before he could finish, "explain what, huh? that he paid you to take me out?" you exclaimed, trying not to let your voice crack or your tears fall.
you could feel your composure fraying the longer you had him in your sight. you'd never seen suguru this way before; sharp eyes now filled with worry, expression burdened by remorse—a facade you were done falling for.
"just—please, let's get out of here so i—" suguru caught onto the sides of your arms as you tried to leave.
you rushed through the crowd, shoving past bodies without a second thought. every collision echoed with their mocking laughter and pity. you've never really noticed suguru in your class before or around campus, but now it as if he were taking up the whole room, suffocating you.
it was too much for you to fully process. your knees felt weak with the thought of being used. your throat tight with all the lies you've consumed.
"i love you."
nothing but a cruel joke.
the fresh air did little to nothing to ground you, it turning to cotton in your lungs when you'd heard suguru's sickening voice call you. tears threaten to spill the more you acknowledge the part of you that craves only an explanation, a possibility that any of what you'd heard was a made up lie.
despite everything, suguru still knew you well enough to read you. every expression, every word, or moment of silence—engraved in his mind as if it were something vital.
so how could he bear to lose you?
"i wasn't intrested in any money, they're not the reason i'm here right now, okay?" suguru spoke up, doubt making his voice waver.
you scoffed, a swift pause before you replied, gaze still hesitant on meeting his. "what's the reason then, sleeping with me? congrats on that."
suguru shook his head mindlessly as he stepped closer to you. the warmth he saw in you not long ago, now replaced by a callousness he didn't want to recognise.
"my reason is that i love you," he said firmly, "and i regret what i did—but i'm thankful it brought me here, with you." a fleeting spark lit up your eyes for a second, but it was short lived; flashes of your moments together shot through your mind, each kiss, each worthless "i love you", each lie you've only now come to realise—it just made you angrier, weaker.
"i have a hard time believing you, suguru," your voice was soft, but there was no mistaking the bitterness and emotion behind it. "if you loved me, then i wouldn't feel used right now—or lied to, or ashamed of myself for not seeing through your selfish games,"
suguru kept his gaze averted, unable to look at you. your words cut through his defenses like shards of glass, shattering his delusions and forcing him to face the cold reality—you were right.
you knew spending anymore time in this moment would only end up with you acting like none of this has ever happened. but god, you wanted that; for someone to pop up from out of nowhere and say it's been a joke.
however, the only joke right now was you thinking that you could forgive suguru.
"and i fucking hate you for it," you ended sharply.
you wish that were true.
you could act tough all you want, but it wouldn't change the truth. a single tear was caught in the dimlight, slipping down your cheek as you finally turned away, leaving suguru exactly where he stood—no concrete apology given or trying to stop you.
he didn't deserve you,
but suguru loved every face of who you are. he would've happily spent his forever with the witty, sharp tongued side of you—but losing the real you left a hollow ache he never imagined he'd have to bear.
synopsis. satoru is a bonafide genius. he’s got the perfect transcript and ten-year plan to prove it. he knows how to keep his head down and avoid the chaos his twin thrives in. so when the unofficial frat princess sets her sights on him, he knows there’s a catch. he just doesn’t figure out what it is until he’s already fallen for her
pairing. nerd! satoru gojo x popular! fem! reader. ✶ contents. sfw! college + gojo twins au ⇢ fratjo’s called souta. romcom-esque meet cute. except it’s actually a meet embarrassing + satoru runs a strict program. cw. profanities as usual ˖ ࣪ . ࿐
in the grand scheme of things, this bet would be a piece of cake if your so-called friends had just let you do your thing. alas, every time you’d so much as tried to drift towards satoru’s corner of the room, they would block your path with flimsy excuses.
shoko needed help finding her phone; which was in her pocket the whole time.
utahime suddenly needed your help touching up her makeup.
and suguru just flat-out stood in front of you, arms crossed and expression grim. he’d also refused to answer your plethora of questions about satoru in an attempt to deter you from going through with this and lengthening his own life span.
by the end of the night, you’d managed to catch exactly zero moments alone with satoru. he’d left the party early, of course. probably to go study or do something that’s equally as boring. which was a shame because you’d thought of the perfect pick up line and everything.
( ‘according to newton’s law of universal gravitation, if i’m attracted to you then you’re attracted to me’. okay . . you didn’t actually think of it. you’d found it after searching up ‘nerdy pick up lines’ on google and you were certain it would’ve worked on him. maybe
shoko strongly felt otherwise and murmured something about how you should ask him to share his electrons with you instead, so you could finally have a stable relationship. how rude ?? )
so far you’ve had no luck with satoru, and suguru is determined to make sure things stay that way. unfortunately for him, you aren’t going to back down that easily. you know exactly how to get him to stop intercepting your every move: bribery.
instead of nursing your hangover in the comfort of your dorm room, you drag yourself out of bed and trudge to the cafe near campus. it has a partnership with jujutsu tech so you get discounts, which is a bonus. the pastries are great, which is another. plus, suguru is a complete and utter sucker for their vanilla bean cold brews – a fact you’re fully prepared to exploit.
so here you are, standing by the counter waiting for your order, one hand pressed to your throbbing temple while the other scrolls aimlessly through your phone.
the cafe is quiet for late morning – save for the soft hum of espresso machines, the murmurs of students half-heartedly revising for finals, and the clatter of dainty mugs against saucers. rays of sunlight shroud the cafe in a soft, hazy glow. the scent of roasted coffee beans and warm golden pastries lingers in the air, rich and soothing in a way that almost makes your hangover feel bearable. almost.
your head is pounding – a direct result of your questionable life choices – and you can still taste the ghost of last night’s cheap vodka on your tongue. every time you close your eyes you see the image of toji’s smug grin as he’d paraded his new sorority girl around the party.
you push the thought away, focusing on the task at hand. you’re halfway through reading shoko and utahime’s texts about how you’re definitely going to lose this bet and how they’ve started their own bet on how many days it’ll take you to give up, when something catches the corner of your eye. you look up. and there he is in the corner of the cafe, satoru gojo.
he sits by the window, surrounded by what can only be described as a fortress of textbooks. the titles alone make your head hurt. he’s hunched over his laptop, shoulders curved inward in concentration, fingers flying across the keyboard with a speed that’s almost inhuman. a pair of navy blue noise cancelling headphones are clamped over his ears, shutting out the rest of the cafe entirely.
he somehow looks even more intense than he did at the party last night. he’s like a different species to you, one that doesn’t belong in the wild of a psi bau rager™. he belongs here, in this quiet, sun-drenched corner, surrounded by books.
every now and then he pauses, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose with an irritated flick before returning to whatever it is he’s typing. the mellow sunlight filters through the strands of his pale hair, turning them almost silver, and frames his pretty features in a mellow glow.
you find yourself staring longer than you mean to. he’s so . . . focused. so unbothered. he’s living in a completely different world, a world of equations and theories and things you can’t even begin to understand, and he doesn’t seem to care that anyone else exists. it’s a level of self-assurance you’ve never encountered before. completely unlike the guys you usually date, who are all desperate for validation.
your name is called from the counter and you step forward automatically, grabbing the drinks – a disgustingly large black coffee for suguru and a ridiculously sweet caramel latte for yourself – without taking your eyes off satoru. he still hasn’t looked up. not once. if he isn’t going to notice you . . . you’ll just have to make him.
you stand there in the middle of the cafe for a moment, pondering. a smile slowly tugs at the corners of your lips. this is perfect. he’s completely unsuspecting, a perfect target. you can do this. you can totally do this.
you adjust your grip on the drinks and start walking towards his table, a plan forming in your mind. something that will force him to look at you, to see you.
closer now, you notice the faint crease between his brows as he reads something on his screen. you can also hear the faint rhythm of what sounds suspiciously like minecraft music seeping from his headphones. you have to suppress a giggle. of course he listens to video game music.
you’re practically hovering over him and he’s still oblivious to you, lost in his own little world.
you take one final step past his chair and let your foot catch the leg of it. your body lurches forward and your latte slips in your hand, a perfect arch of creamy coffee flying directly towards his laptop.
“oh my–” the gasp leaves your lips right on cue. a wave of caramel latte, complete with extra whipped cream, splashes across his table, narrowly missing his textbooks. you didn’t mean to spill that much. a few drops, maybe, to create a moment, a reason to talk. well shit.
to his credit, satoru reacts faster than you expect him to. his arm shoots out, shielding his keyboard as your drink splashes on the table, dangerously close to his belongings. the minecraft music in his headphones cuts off as he yanks them down around his neck, his head snapping up. his eyes, a startlingly bright blue, lock onto yours, and for a moment, you forget how to breathe. they’re even more intense up close and are currently filled with a flicker of annoyance.
“careful,” he frowns. you feel your morale sink ever so slightly. that. . . was not the reaction you were expecting. no flustered stammering or no immediate concern for your well-being. he immediately begins inspecting his laptop to check for damages, his brow furrowed in concentration, long fingers carefully wiping away the droplets of coffee from the sleek black casing.
“i’m so sorry,” you apologize profusely, setting down suguru’s coffee and what’s left of yours on the sticky table. you grab a handful of napkins from the nearby dispenser and start dabbing at the lukewarm droplets, feeling your heat rise to your cheeks. this is not going according to plan. at all.
“it’s alright, it’s just coffee,” he finally looks up again, his bright blue eyes focused in a way that makes you feel like you’re being scrutinized under a microscope. it’s unnerving but he’s not angry, not really. you think ?
“i’m such a klutz honestly,” you sigh, trying to recover with a charmingly self-deprecating smile, one that usually works on guys. “i’m literally a natural disaster, i could’ve ruined your textbooks.”
his expression doesn’t change in the slightest. “technically,” he says after a beat of silence, his devoid of any emotion, “that would be more of an anthropogenic accident.”
“. . . what ?” you blink, momentarily stunned. did this guy just correct your metaphor ? who does that ?
“you’re a human,” he explains, as if that isn’t the most obvious thing in the world, “natural disasters occur without human intervention. what you’re describing is an accident caused by human error.”
silence settles between you as satoru watches you clean the table. you wish the earth would soften, open up and swallow you whole. but it doesn’t. you just stand there, dabbing at a sticky table with a handful of napkins, feeling like a complete and utter idiot.
“if you hold your cup closer to the middle,” he offers, tone still matter-of-fact, “it stabilizes the center of gravity.”
“huh ?” you’re completely bewildered by the peculiarity of this cursed interaction. this was not supposed to happen. you were supposed to have a cute, flirty meet-cute, not a freaking physics lesson.
“the middle,” he repeats patiently, gesturing towards your half-empty latte “gripping it higher makes it more liable to tipping. lower your grip, closer to the center of mass, and you’ll have more control.”
you stare at him. for a split second you think he’s joking. his expression says he’s absolutely not. he looks like he’s about to tell you to read a book because your stupid is showing
“. . . right,” you say slowly, feeling completely out of your depth. you’ve never been so thoroughly derailed in your life.
he sets his laptop back on the table once he’s positive his work is no longer endangered, his movements precise and economical.
“you won’t have as many accidents that way,” he murmurs, already turning his attention back to his screen, effectively dismissing you. you press the napkin flat against the table one last time, feeling utterly defeated.
“i’ll. . uhh. .keep that in mind,” you mumble, backing away from his table.
he nods, barely acknowledging you, and closes his laptop with a decisive click. he slips it, alongside his textbooks, into his bag before standing.
“sorry again,” you try one last time, desperate for some kind of. . .anything. but he’s already slinging his backpack over his shoulder.
“it’s no problem,” he says politely as he steps around you, “i have to go anyway.” he gives you a brief, impersonal nod before walking out the cafe without another word. the bell above the door jingles softly behind him. and just like that he’s gone.
you stand there in the middle of the cafe completely dumbfounded. the interaction lasted less than ten minutes and meant absolutely nothing to him. he didn’t even ask for your name. he didn’t even smile at you.
satoru is proving to be a difficult target. he really isn’t making this easy for you. you pick up your drinks again – carefully from the middle this time – and head toward the door. holy. fucking. airball. this is a million times harder than you’d anticipated.
“there’s no way you spilled your coffee on purpose” suguru splutters, clutching his stomach where he lies sprawled across his unmade bed. his body shaking with laughter as you recount the series of unfortunate events you’d endured this morning.
“i did ! and maybe i’ve watched too many movies but i thought he would at least help me clean it up or crack a joke or something. but no !” you lament, flopping onto a bean bag chair with a dramatic sigh. “all he did was give me a physics lesson. that was so freaking humiliating i’m never going back to the cafe again.”
shoko, who’s perched on the edge of suguru’s desk, wipes a tear from her eyes. “fuck, i wish i could’ve seen it.”
“shut up,” you grumble, burying your face in a pillow. “i lost so much aura and i’m starting to realize that this is genuinely impossible. he’s like a robot.”
“he’s not a robot,” suguru laughs, “you can’t just stumble into his life and expect him to be completely obsessed with you. you’ve gotta speak his language first.”
“and what language is that ? fucking javascript ??”
“ha, you’re funny,” suguru finally sits up and runs a hand through his messy hair. “you just need a legit reason to be around him. one that appeals to his genius brain.”
“like what ?” you sigh, lifting your head to look at him. “we have literally nothing in common, i fear. and he clearly isn’t big on conversations. . so unless i resort to contacting an etsy witch he’s not gonna give me the time of day”
“or just ask him to tutor you” shoko quips, eyes lighting up as she lights her cigarette, ignoring suguru’s protests about her smoking in his room.
you groan, sinking further into the bean bag. “in what ? we have absolutely zero classles together.”
“exactly !” she grins, taking a long drag from her cigarette. “because he’s in the honors college and he’s so wrapped up in his own world, he probably has no clue what you’re majoring in. so you tell him you’re struggling in something that’s a piece of cake to him–”
“why the hell are you helping her ??” suguru interjects, shooting her a well-meaning glare
“i bet utahime that she’d at least last a week” she shrugs, “i’m sitting on a decent pay day here”
“i hate all of you” you scoff. “and that’s not even going to work anyway, i’m pre-law and he’s into engineering and other confusing stem stuff that i wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole.”
“well, tough luck,” shoko murmurs, blowing a perfect smoke ring. “if you plan on asking for help in any other courses you might as well admit defeat right now and swear off men for the rest of college.”
“so what ? do i just pretend to be a stem major to trick him into spending time with me ?” you ask, the idea sounding more and more absurd the more you think about it. how would you even pull that off . . .?
“if you’re actually gonna go through with this nonsense,” suguru sighs, flopping back onto his bed, “you might as well fully commit to the bit. what’s one more lie on top of this whole clusterfuck ?”
you frown at him, but he’s right. if you want to get satoru to fall in love with you, then you’ll have to go about this properly. you chew on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully, you can’t think of any alternatives that would result in satoru really noticing you. so, reluctantly, you settle on the only option you have:
you’ll fake being a struggling physics major and hope he doesn’t see right through you.
the concept of reshaping yourself entirely to catch the attention of someone who’s practically a stranger sounds absurd the more you think about it. but it’s a little too late to back down now. the bet is made, the stakes are set, and your pride is on the line.
“fine,” you say, folding your arms over your chest. “i’ll do it. but you two,” you point at shoko and suguru, “if i go down, i’m taking you with me.”
suguru groans, dragging a hand over his face. “i knew i should’ve just walked the other way freshman year”
“it’s wayyy too late for that,” you grin, “now, tell me everything you know about physics, shoko, i need to sound convincing. oh and i’ll probably need to borrow your textbooks too. . . how heavy are they ?”
a wry smile spreads across shoko’s lips. “heavy enough to knock satoru out with, if you need a backup plan.”
“don’t give her any more ideas,” suguru pales visibly, his hazel eyes wide with horror that seems a little too genuine for your liking. just how little does he think of you ?
“hey, i got you coffee,” you pout, gesturing to the forgotten cup on his nightstand. “you’re supposed to be helping me now.”
“me . . help you . .? y’know souta’s room is right across the hallway,” suguru points out, his voice dropping to a whisper. “if he gets me in my sleep, what use will coffee be to me ?”
“he’s not actually going to kill you,” you wave your hand dismissively. “c’mon, shoko let’s ditch the drama queen. i wanna go look at your textbooks.”
with a solid plan in hand, you’re starting to feel a little more confident about winning satoru over.
you’re smart. you can totally fake your way through physics tutoring. sure, it’ll be boring. mind-numbingly, soul-crushingly boring. but it’s just a bunch of laws and formulas, right ? it’s not like you have to actually do anything except pretend to understand it. plus, you’re a fast learner. what could possibly go wrong ?
masterlist day zero ⇆ day one
── .✦ mimi’s notes: ^ the answer to that question is everything !! i mean what’s newton’s third law of motion ? don’t be deceived ( like nerdjo ) i hate physics passionately
g. satoru who is a massive pervert and constantly whines for you to let him touch you all the time, even when you're both around others. you've lost count of how many times he grabs you and pulls you into his lap, his warm hands slipping under your shirt while sitting next to g. suguru, who's attention is no longer on the tv.
'he doesn't mind,' satoru always comforts you, grinning into the skin of your neck. 'sugu's my best friend, he knows i can't help but touch you, baby.'
best friend or not, that doesn't explain how you always ended up with your legs spread open wide in satoru's lap, your jeans and panties discarded somewhere on the floor as suguru kisses all over your thighs. the two of them talk like you aren't even there, as if you aren't growing wetter as each second passes.
"satoru," suguru purrs, his fingers running up and down your soft lips, parting them open to watch slick slowly drip out of you. "you must be doing something else to her. i've never seen it get wet so quickly." the way he speaks so calmly makes you dizzy. it's unfair, so fucking unfair how calm and collected suguru is when he's inches away from your pussy, those pretty purple eyes focused on it.
"yeah? 's wet?" it's also unfair how riled up it gets satoru, seeing his pretty baby getting shy because his best friend is rubbing his fingers up and down her slick folds. "she's so messy, isn't she? she's the prettiest little pussy," he coos into your ear. that gets a chuckle from suguru, his eyes finally looking at you. "always the one to talk to the pussy and not about it, aren't you, satoru?"
his fingers finally focus on your clit, rubbing little circles into it. both you and satoru look pretty from this angle, suguru notices. the pure need and shyness on your face paired with that manic desperation on satoru's...it's a perfect picture, one he wants saved forever. maybe next time you'll let him take some pictures...after all, he needs a new background for his phone.
"c'mooon, sugu...give her a kiss? c'mon, c'mon, give that cunt a kiss, tell me how sticky 'n' wet she is," satoru fucking begs, acting as if he's the one spread open and dripping. but you second the thought, giving suguru the prettiest little puppy eyes.
"anything for you, princess," he coos softly, leaning down and pressing a little kiss on your clit. it's so light you barely feel it but then he's peppering kisses on it, your wetness starting to get on his lips and making each press of his lips sticker and wetter. "s-sugu-!" before you can even beg for more, his mouth is on you. his tongue is so wet and hot on your cunt, it feels like he was drooling for you.
"does she taste good? how wet is she, suguru, c'mon, tell me, tell me how that pussy tastes, pretty please?"
"mm, satoru, it's almost as if you wanted to be between her legs."
"who wouldn't? she's so pretty, she's squirmin' so cutely, my pretty baby, my needy little mochi, her pussy's always so creamy and warm and messy, god, i miss it right now."
"shit...stop talking like that, you're gettin' me flustered, should i-"
"s-sugu, please, keep going," you so politely ask. it's unbearable how cute you are, it's taking everything in him to keep being nice, to keep treating your cunt nicely. he knows satoru is mean and practically bullies your pretty slit almost every day, but he wants to be the nice one, the one who you go to when your 'toru' is being too mean. yet, you're making it so fucking hard when you look at him with lidded eyes that beg him to be rougher with you...
but he knows he's done for when satoru whispers something in your ear that has your eyes fluttering a bit and gets a pretty little gasp from you. those gorgeous eyes—oh, do you have little tears in them too?—connect with his and he's fucked.
"s-suguuu, please," you coo to him, moving your legs to hook over his shoulders and pull him closer to the apex of your thighs. "i need your mouth on my pussy r-really bad, please don't tease me." you take a pause and squeeze your eyes shut, whining a little as satoru coos for you to keep going. "g-give my...my messy cunt attention, suguru..."
suguru shakily sighs and the next thing you know, his mouth is smushed against your pussy, his tongue hungrily swirling against your clit as his hands grab onto the fat of your thighs. he doesn't know what gojo told you in order to hear you say that, but he's silently thanking him as he messily sucks and slurps at your juicy cunt.
it's so hot, all it takes is a few swipes of his tongue and you're gushing everywhere. suguru lowers his head to dip into your hole and he moans. he missed this, missed the sweet taste of your juices on his tongue as you squirmed and moaned for him, your boyfriend's best friend.
"fuck, i-i can hear how wet she is," comes satoru's pitiful whine, his hand dipping down to swipe at your clit as suguru focused on lapping up everything that dripped out of you. "lemme help, lemme help, wanna help you get her creamy, sugu." the feeling of suguru groaning into your puffy folds has you keening, arching your back against satoru's chest. oh, he's in heaven watching you both. "yeah, you didn't know she could cream, didya? put your fingers in her, sugu, put 'em in that sticky little pussy 'n' angle up."
reluctantly pulling his mouth off you with a wet sound, suguru slips two of his fingers in you. he doesn't miss the cry of his name, but he really doesn't miss the delirious giggle and moan when he angles his fingers up, rubbing against that spongy spot.
"f-fuck, she's dripping..."
"go on, fuck her with your fingers, you know you wanna see her make a mess. make her fucking cream, suguru, get her prepped. maybe t'day she'll let you put it in...oh, based on your face, she just clenched on your fingers, yeah?"
his fingers are still swirling around your clit, his other coming down to press on your abdomen. he can hear you getting wetter, your little whimpers turning to moans as you slur their names desperately. he wants you to lose all thoughts, only able to think about him and suguru...yeah, he wants you all soft and sweet so he and his best friend can try and slip into those warm, slick walls.
"mmn...she's really creaming...god, pretty girl, can you cum for me? i wanna see you cum on my fingers. satoru, move your fingers, the poor thing needs my mouth on her."
"hmmm, suddenly you know what she needs? ehehehe, you're learninggg, suguruuuu!" if you had turned to look at satoru, you'd see the charged look in his eye, blue eyes practically glowing with insanity. his hand grabs a fistful of suguru's hair and pulls his face directly into your cunt, unable to handle any more of this. he wanted to see you cum on suguru's face.
"c'mon, c'mon, kiss it, suguru, make it messy for the both of us. mmh, fuck, listen to you making out with her pussy, s' wet and sticky, isn't it? oohmygod, both of you sound so good, she's gonna cum, sugu, she's gonna cum in your mouth...fuck, i love you both so much, can't wait to see you both fucking each other."
Pairings. [SEPARATE] Shoko x Reader, Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, hybrids AU, rúts, heats, bonding bites, coIIars (for Ino and Nanami), use of ‘good boy’, chokíng, making you cry, rough s, cervíx smooching, NEEDY men, stopping you from running, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, lil’ surprise for Higuruma, DP, pIot, SHOKOOO cameo, oraI (fem rec.), fíngering, p talking p sIapping, Gojo’s FÉRAL, bIindfolds, law professor!Higuruma, marathons, overstím, making him WHlMPER, needy JJK men, squírting, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, pet names, swéaring.
A/N. HAPPY (belated?) LESBlAN VISlBlLITY WEEK!! Mwahahah yk I had to write ab my favorite girl too…
♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - WOLF!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus
Toji’s prolonged canines sink into the side of your neck.
Your mouth drops open in a soundless scream, and your thighs are quiverin’ where his were pressed against them. From behind, the wolf hybrid was practically pinning you down using his weight - using even the heft of his abdomen.
The firm sculpture of his v-line pushed against your behind. The entire length of him pistoning inside at a dizzying pace.
Abs against your back. Pecs near your shoulders.
Head dipped into the crook of your neck- panting between every clench of your walls. It seems that the harder he was driving his hips, the more n’ more animalistic his noises were becoming—until those intimidating teeth of his made an appearance to mark you as his.
Truly his.
When you entered the local Hybrid Companionship Program, you’d never have guessed you’d end up like this. Though you certainly weren’t complaining.
But Toji had always known you were his mate.
It’d started on a Friday night; your boss had insisted on yet another drinking party, and you’d been strong-armed into joining a few awkward co-workers in pouring drinks and pretending that you cared so much more about what Abe from finance had to say about the state of the economy and how it related to lax dress codes at work.
Particularly your dress code.
Ugh.
You’re throwing the drunken man inside the taxi with more force than necessary—and handing over a large tip to the driver in front.
You might hate the guy, but leaving him on the pavement like this might just get your pay docked…
As a few more of your co-workers pile into the taxi, they ask you whether you’re joining.
Your eyes flicker from the tangled body of Abe inside…to the clear night out…back to Abe inside. It’s with something akin to relief that you’re saying you’d rather walk—it wasn’t too far of a trek anyways. It’s just then that Abe babbles something about it being unsafe and he’d oh-so-gladly make some room for you…
You’re closing the taxi door and not caring whether you catch Abe’s toes.
It was during this night walk - which in and of itself was rather uneventful - that you passed by the Tokyo Hybrid Center. The hub for all things hybrid-related: from informational seminars, to campaigning, to employment opportunities, and even a shelter for hybrids that were on the run from illegal fighting rings, etc.
And it was outside this massive building that you saw the sign.
Hot hybrids 5 minutes away want to meet you!
HYBRID COMPANIONSHIP PROGRAM:
Are you searching for a new roommate? Are you looking to broaden your friend group beyond simple human backgrounds?
Join our Hybrid Companionship Program to get suited with hybrids that wish to make new human friends. Deepen relations between humans and hybrids!
Contact +69 XXX XXX XXXX for more information (or just walk in!)
You’d walked in.
It’d taken about a week to plough through the columns of forms and meetings with officials of the program. And after you finally managed to complete them, you waited…and waited…and waited…
Months later, you’d been entertaining the thought that perhaps they just found you unsuitable for every hybrid that walked through those doors. Which stung a little, you admit, for Abe had been particularly irritating at that stuffy office lately- and you’d been itching for a new friend. But you could get through, surely—
That’s when you got a call from the program, informing you that you’d been matched with a grey wolf hybrid.
That’s how you became friends with Toji Fushiguro.
An unsure, bumbling friendship.
One that meant - a few months later - you found yourself like this—
Nails attempting to claw into the mattress - it’s drawing a few jagged lines down the silken sheets that you swear you’d just washed—though that wasn’t anything Toji cared about. He couldn’t even think.
He couldn’t feel anything other than the soft, suctioning sensation of your pussy- the way it was dragging his inches back in even as he pulled out. The cutest squelches leave you every time he’s pushing in, in, in—
And Toji himself pulls his face out from the crook of your neck.
He’s leaving a garish bite mark behind- and the wolf hybrid laps at it a few times. Proud of his work. Why wouldn’t he be? He’s been wanting to do this since the moment he met you.
And then he’s catching sight of your lecherous reactions- the way you’re squirmin’ away from him and whimpering at the stinging feeling. Oh…how it makes him snicker.
Before you can register it, his right hand reaches in front of you and tenderly intertwines his fingers with yours, “How cute…” How sweet. How loving. “But don’t you think you can run away from me, doll.” In a single split-second, Toji has both of your hands pulled behind your back- and your pretty face collapsing onto the pillows.
Spit smears out of your mouth and on the pillowcases, and you’re keening as he bends your hands behind your back.
Holding onto them-
“I’d never—ngh, run away…” You scoff.
“Good.” He’s exposing your freshly-made bite mark to his hot pants. “Because m’not stopping anytime soon.”
Then in the next few strokes, Toji’s straightening himself up as he keeps drilling into you from behind - maintaining a strong hold on your wrists. Pulling them behind you. Leaving you completely at the mercy of his rugged, pummeling cock. Just pushing and pushing—
He glues his muscular thighs to the backs of yours- and keeps his inky-black happy trail scruffing at your ass cheeks. The way you were arched in this new position meant that he was hittin’ spots you didn’t even know existed. And most of all, his bulbous tip was shoved just a few inches deeper to make a firm indent at your cervix.
You’re whining as you feel the intrusion. “Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck—yes. More. I can take it.”
“More?” He asks questioningly.
Nodding and nodding.
“Careful what you wish for, honey.”
Though, despite Toji’s warning tone, his fluffy tail swishes behind him in delight. How he loved losing his senses in your pussy.
Your warm, welcoming pussy.
You’re squeezing his thick cock in surprise once you feel something settle atop your head- and it takes you longer than it should to realize that Toji Fushiguro had just reached his right leg in front of him and stepped down on your crown.
Your jaw drops at the utter audacity.
“H-holy shit…”
And then he’s increasing his pace, he’s exercising his immense strength even further.
He’s fucking you like he was furious with you - like he was making up for however many months he couldn’t get his hands on his precious mate. Something deeeeep, and carnal, inside him yips with glee at the fact that he had you like this—choking on his cock and begging for more. More and more.
Toji’s rational brain was overcome with…something he doesn’t think he’s ever felt before.
Some strange part of him that needed to stuff himself so deep inside you that you remember him even once he’s pulled out. Some strange part of him that wanted his essence to be so combined with yours that everyone else that encounters you knows you’re his mate- and vice versa. He wanted you badly—always has. And even the slightest bounces of yours hips - whenever you were fucking back into him - made a part of him crack- he couldn’t stand to break contact with you for a single fucking second.
Toji tugs you by the arms - so far back that your ass cheeks were glued to his toned pelvis. And you have nowhere to run but the stirring motions of his cock.
In the hazy noise of your bodies meeting, the bed frame begins to crack!
“What’s the matter?” He croons. And after a few more vicious strokes render you near-speechless, he chuckles to himself. “Dick got your tongue?”
“You’re s-sooo—” But it was so hard to speak with the way his flared tip swabbed into your sweetest spots. He pinpointed even the ones your gooey channel kept hidden, and then ran the veiny underside of his length down those glossed walls- probing against your g-spot with such raw fervour. “Ngh.”
You were being pushed back n’ forth.
Manhandled back n’ forth.
And he doesn’t want you moving away from him for a single second.
The sheer force of his hips was enough that your sweaty scalp nearly bangs! against the wooden headboard. Toji notices the near-contact, and he’s lugging back both your bodies without a single word. “Hey hey- c’mere—where’d you think you’re going, huh?”
“S’not my fault…” Big tears run down your cheeks.
“Yeah yeah- now shush n’ take it”
Sweaty and tangled up as one.
And if that wasn’t enough- Toji runs his thickened cock out of your cunt. Slapping it against your puffy pussylips and probin’ at your clit for a few thrusts- before pushing his solid inches back in and pumping away until you were utterly stupid. Utterly babbling.
His ballsack ends up plastered against your folds and plap-plap-plapping.
You’re feeling the exact moment that they’re then clenching- an explosion of creamy white cum that drips into your glossy channel.
Wad after wad.
Ribbon after ribbon.
Your walls expand with the addition. “Oh p-pleeeease- fuck! So much…” Your mouth waters, “How can you even…so much.”
Webbing up your poor insides, drenching them pure white. His bawlin’ divot was also just the perfect shape to probe those droplets of cum into your tender orifices, smearing them with his length thereafter. Again and again. Toji needs merely a few thrusts of him fuckin’ his warm seed into you - before you’re hurtling into your own orgasm, too. And it’s so strong that it makes lights flash behind your eyes—
Through the white-hot pleasure, you feel a set of canines sink into your neck. Again.
This time, on the other side.
“Heh…now they’re gonna know for sure.”
.
.
.
It was inevitable that you’d be the talk of the office.
The moment you stepped through those swivelling doors: all eyes were on you.
From the bored receptionist that looked away from his computer, to the wizened doorman whose brows raised, to that damn Abe who’d been drinking at the water fountain at that precise moment you walked into the lobby. The interns openly gaped, of course.
But it was nothing against the way that Abe physically spat out the water he’d been holding in his mouth- right onto some unfortunate intern who looked as though he was very serious about quitting this job.
With a few hasty apologies, the bane of your office life was walking towards you.
Then perhaps he’d noticed just how large the canines that’d made that mating mark seemed to be. Perhaps he’d seen all those accompanying nips and nail marks wherever your skin was visible. Or perhaps he was seeing Toji—standing right behind you and glowering at the man.
You looked as though you’d been thrown to the wolves, and you’d brought one right to work.
“Toji, I told you—” You coo at him. “You don’t need to accompany me all the way here.”
“Oh, I think I do.” He murmurs.
In front of him, Abe starts backing up.
Looking straight at him, he says. “Have a great day at work…”
Grinning a grin that showcases every dangerous tooth.
“-my mate.”
♡ NANAMI KENTO - White-collar man!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“F-forgive me if I’m a little…unsure about this, my love.” You’ve never heard your perfect husband tremble in such a tone—something unsure, something so unlike the eloquent nature you’ve grown so used to.
He was stuttering.
Why? Perhaps because of the way you were sneakin’ your luscious cunt down his length. Perhaps because of the way you’re feeling his prominent vein sneak down your walls- squeezing him where he was girthiest. Or perhaps because of the collar you’d put ‘round him.
It was a throw-away comment, really.
You’d been seated beside your husband late at night; talking into the early hours of the morning—everything from your favorite dates to the best restaurants in Tokyo to…kinks that the two of you have never tried before. And your husband being a dog hybrid - a German Shepherd type, to be specific - you admit that you may have thought of something…to do…with making your husband don a collar.
And Nanami Kento being the perfect gentleman, was always happy to entertain your wildest ideas. At least once.
Though by the way he was affected by the thick faux-leather around his neck- you’re guessing that this might not be the last time…
“What’s the matter?” You watch as he brings up one finger and tugs on the tightened restraint. Underneath, Nanami’s Adam’s apple bobs—“Too tight for you, Kento?”
“Not at all.” He fervently shakes his head. “It’s just…”
“Just what, baby?” Giving him yet another stir of your hips. Pap-papping! down his swollen inches.
In response, the large hybrid bucks his pelvis up into yours- letting the skin of his thighs stick against your own, letting the bulbous edge of his cock veer in even deeper. So much of his length; it felt never-ending.
Nanami has to use up every single shred of will within him to keep his head from tipping backwards, “It’s just that- hck! that it feels so good that…” Jaw clenching at the way your walls kept clenching harder n’ harder around his length—he wanted to whine. But with that damn collar on him, his airway kept getting restricted. “-that i-it almost feels unfair.”
Alternating between a sensual, soft slide down his cock- and then speeding up when it felt like he was getting too clear-headed.
“What do you mean, Kento?” Genuine confusion.
“It just means that I’m over here feeling all good because of this collar and your- ngh—” Gesturing vaguely at your cunt - though that didn’t seem to be enough, and the blond man can’t stop himself from pushing aside your legs to let his hand between them. Running his thumb eagerly over your clit - thorough, steady strokes—just the way you liked it. “-your pussy. But am I making you feel good enough, my love?”
Your brows furrow, “Of course you are, Kento-”
“No, but…good enough.” He insists. And then his handsome face draws nearer, and Nanami’s lips are catching onto yours. “M’the type of man that needs my wife to feel better than me, darlin’.”
“Kento—o-oh.” Entire body wracking with carnal shivers at the feeling of his thumb pressin’ down even harder. Like some cute heart-shaped button, he’s pouring out all his love with stroke after stroke after stroke.
And he continues, “I need you to feel so good that you almost can’t take it.” He growls- and for a split-second you’re seeing a flash of those intimidating canines that made you weak in the knees. Nanami’s ears perk up in alertness as his hips start rammin’ equally as fast to meet your pace, “I need you to feel dizzy with pleasure- hear me?”
“Fuck-”
“I need you to feel better than me.”
“Oh…” Head lolling behind- you’re not getting too far before he’s craning his neck and catching your mouth in a sloppy kiss.
Golden brows furrowing, “Mmm—hear me? I need you to be aching, I need you to be fucked stupid- I need you to be mindless with pleasure…” And then his fingers are briefly letting go of your sensitive nub to pinch. “Because that’s what good husbands do.”
Stimulating your unsuspecting clit.
Running his crowned tip into every spot he knew you liked.
Nanami had his body practically plastered to yours as if he lived for this - he wanted to fuck you numb with pleasure, and it didn’t matter if he had to run his vein-covered shaft fucking raw on your walls to do it. Desperate. Dominant. Purely for your service. It didn’t matter if his collar was getting tighter between all the pants—if he couldn’t breathe. It didn’t matter if his limbs were getting tired. It didn’t matter if his hybrid tail was wagging his emotions all on display.
It takes a few more vulgar, sloppy strokes of him pushin’ away his translucent precum into your deepest depths before Nanami speaks again. This time, he jerks his head ever-so-slightly up into the air and sniffs. “And this good husband can also smell that you’re close.”
You’re breathless, “Close?” It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his honed hybrid senses but-
Fuck.
And then it’s hitting you.
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Without you even realizing it - it’d been building up without you even noticing - you’re wracking your way into your orgasm.
Like shards of glass scattering; bolts of pleasure build up at your pussy n’ then course through your veins. Sending deep pangs of euphoria up to your brain- your mind’s just a little fried when you’re elongating your high with primal bucks and bounces down Nanami’s ruthless cock. Up and up. Down until the scruff of his tawny-brown happy trail scratches against your outer folds.
Your head finally lunges back, your body’s arching into him.
And the only thing you can think to do is reach out and hold onto Nanami’s collar—
It’s like your lifeline. And your husband’s brows slightly raise as you clasp onto it, cutting off his breathing ever-so-slightly at the crescendo of your orgasm: you were choking him and he was liking it far more than he expected.
It’s all Nanami can do to gnaw down on the flap of his lower lip and continue, “This…fuck.”
“This is my pleasure, Kento.” Babbling out - you don’t know whether to blame the fogginess that your high brought upon you or not. “I really like it when you- hah, do your best to make me feel good. I really like that you—”
Pressing your lips to his.
“-make me feel so- fuck, loved.”
You can feel Nanami smiling into the kiss. His throat tremors with the signal that he was about to say something more- but you’re quickly cutting him off with a tug at his collar.
Finishing off, “And I really fucking love when you wear this collar f’me.”
Between your pussylips, his bulging cock twitches in arousal.
The most wicked grin spreads across Nanami’s handsome features, and he’s bringing his hand up to the collar- for a second there, you think he’s about to remove it. And you’re getting ready for the sensual entrapment to fall off—but instead, he takes his index and taps on the little loop that the collar had.
One for the leash.
“Then why don’t we take it a step further, darling?”
♡ GETO SUGURU - Here, pussy pussy…
Hybrid type: Felis catus
Everyone knew that Geto Suguru was a cat hybrid.
One of those Abyssinian breeds that were rare and revered: he often prowled down the hallways of his temple, as silent as death itself, his tall figure casting shadows in every corner. Two upturned ears and a tail behind his chiseled frame. Because as beautiful as Geto Suguru was—he was just as dangerous.
And perhaps you knew better than anyone.
After all, as his right-hand member of the Association, you followed Geto wherever he went. To every dojo he visited to make sure that the other Association members were in top form for a battle; of course, it’d end up with him defeating them all and piling on the fatigued bodies as a lesson. To every home he had to visit, a mere smile of his being enough to intimidate even the most rebellious of ex-members (there were rarely any left breathing) into staying quiet. Perhaps even joining their circle once more.
To every meeting he ordered, seating before rows upon rows of men and women and everyone in-between—bowed at the waist reverently between who they saw as a deity himself.
Because in many ways, he was.
And here you were as a mere human before him: on your knees, mouth gaped as he trickled out more ropey splashes of cum.
Such sheer volumes of it flooding the cavern of your mouth, ending up dribbling down the sides of your lips in satiny ribbons. After he finishes tuggin’ his swollen cock a few more times to milk out his final beads of cum, Geto taps his blushing tip straight on your lips, your tongue, your cheek - just to watch your expression threaten to contort in surprise.
And then he’s setting his length free and bringing down a hand to cup your chin.
The roughened fatness of his thumb wipin’ away a glittering bead of syrup. “There, there…” Geto hums, “Think that pussy’s sorry enough now, gorgeous?”
You attempt to speak, but your mouth’s too full. “Mmm—mmpf.”
“That’s what I thought.” He snickers meanly to himself. And before you know it, that thumb of his that’d been nicely roverin’ down the edges of your stained lips starts pushing inwards- starts pushing his digit deep inside your sloppy mouth and reaching for the very back of your throat. It makes some predatory part of him sing with glee to watch your eyes tear up, and your nose crinkle at the intrusion. “But I don’t know…I still don’t think she’s sorry enough.”
Your eyes shoot open, lashes heavy with tears.
Still not sorry enough?
Still not sorry enough?
Where did this even begin—all because you’d had the audacity to fake it.
It’d been another night cooped up in Geto Suguru’s grand quarters, which had quickly become your favorite area of his hideout, and he’d been fucking you long and hard aaaaaall night. He’d been keeping his ravenous tip lodged nearly where your throat was, and driven you crazily over the edge more times than you could count.
And as a result of that, maybe you’d gotten a little…sloppy.
Before you knew it, Geto was tappin’ away at your clit with his thumb- intending to send you both hurtling into your highs. But being so overstimulated, you couldn’t help but put on a little show faking it- hell, you weren’t even sure whether you could catch on at this point.
Yet you should’ve known that the incredible senses of a cat hybrid would always know.
Always.
And so here you were: with your mouth stuffed till the brim, time and time again, in punishment for attempting to con the leader. Whilst your cunt throbbed away animalistically between your legs-
“I can smell that ungrateful pussy of yours growing wetter.” The hybrid’s keen nose twitches- sweeter. The room seemed to get so much sweeter - like a candy factory - whenever you grew more aroused.
“I- hck! can’t help it…” With monumental effort, you’re speaking through the fingers he had probing between your kiss-swollen lips.
“Yes, you can.” He spits. “Does that ungrateful pussy think she deserves my cock?”
You can’t stop yourself—you’re nodding and nodding. Resting on the heels of your feet and grindin’ back against those mounds - it’s the only sort of friction you’re able to get right now. And by the way that Geto’s dexterous tail was swishing from side-to-side, then it seems that he didn’t quite appreciate that, either…
And so with such a mean snarl upon his handsome face- he pulls out the thumb that’d been massaging your tongue. Getting sucked. And without a single warning, Geto grabs the back of your scalp and rams your mouth down his cock- all the way till the base. Until the tufts of his jet-black hair was scraping your nose, and you’re moaning needily around him. You needed him so badly.
“Tch- seems she really does want my cock.” With raised brows, Geto looks down at where you were pushing n’ pressing yourself against your feet. How it covered every single spot your pussy touched with a glistenin’ layer of slick. “Fine…”
Your eyes shoot open. Looking up at him pleadingly—
“Fine, that silly pussy can have my cock…” Geto’s grip on you grows even tighter - searing. “She can have my loooong, thick cock.” He leans down to whisper in your ear, “But she better know that I am very angry at her.”
And then you’re being pulled off his hard erection with a pwah!
Soon enough, you’re finding yourself laid flatly against the leader’s futon.
His powerful hips pinning yours down, his long hair loosening around the two of you like a curtain- his muscular tail keeping one of your legs pinned to the side as he presses your thighs open n’ shovels you with his ravenous inches.
From the glistening crown of his shaft—down, down, down until those familiar curls surrounding his hilt.
Geto fucks you like he’s furious at you-
Like he’s aiming to leave a few purple bruises on that cervix of yours, like he’s stretching out your walls so they remember his exact size. He wants you to feel him between your legs even after he’s pulled out - maybe that’d be enough of a reminder to keep your damn pussy in line. And even as he thinks about it, the cat hybrid’s hastening his hips.
Piston after piston after piston.
His fingers dart upwards to grab at your clit- and you’re genuinely sobbing as he squeezes it. Somewhere in the muddled rationale of your brain, you’re sure that he’s fucking you just to make you cry.
With his other hand, Geto brings that spit-coated thumb up to his mouth n’ licks it clean. Then his lip curls, “Disgusting. This fuckin’ pussy doesn’t even deserve what m’giving her.” Pinching your throbbing nub once more, “Does she?”
“I-I—” You bawl. “I don’t-”
“What’s that?” Another pinch. “Say it louder so that she’s hearing too-”
“I don’t!”
“Damn right.” Geto twitches his nose once your cunt simply grows even wetter, “Hear that?”
Whatever noises he’s wrenching from between your legs as he fucks you- it seems to be enough of a answer to him. And then he’s hitting your sodden womb with a smack!
“Shouldn’t even be fucking her- tch, not after she went against her leader.” Geto muses to himself, “She should be thanking the- hah, universe that I’m just in rut.”
Cold water pours down your body - or perhaps that was just Geto’s sticky precum dribbling out in puddles. “You’re in rut?” You gasp.
“Problem—?”
“N-not at all.” In fact, you’re spreading your thighs apart and bucking into his battering thrusts. Even more. Such greed; despite how well Geto was fucking you…you’re still yearning for more of him. Lashes fluttering with tears, you don’t think you’ve ever been more honest in your entire life as you plead—“I want you to f-fuck me until you’re shooting blanks—” Reaching around his toned waist and tuggin’ on his tail. “-Suguru.”
His breath hitches.
And then he purrs.
“Fine, you’re forgiven…” Before elation can hit you, he twists his fingers on your sodden clit. Hard.
“O-oh-”
“-if you squirt f’me.”
♡ CHOSO KAMO - RUT RUT RUT.
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
He couldn’t help himself.
He honestly couldn’t.
Choso Kamo has no idea what’s gotten into him.
One morning, he’s waking up with the most painful boner of his entire life—and it seems that you’d gone out to the store bright n’ early. So that’s no big deal. Shit happens. He could handle it all by himself: he’d flounced out of bed and headed straight into the bathroom for a cold shower - having his own hand wrapped around his cock wouldn’t feel nearly as good as having yours.
And so that problem had been taken care of.
Or so Choso had thought.
The next little (not-so-little) issue had popped up almost immediately after he’d exited the shower.
All freshened-up, Choso was drying his shoulder-length hair with a towel as he walked into the bedroom. And then he’d seen it.
Then he’d mindlessly cast his gaze around the room and ended up dropping it onto…the bucket of laundry that he was meant to fold today. And other than the nagging guilt of putting it off, he’d been fixated on one thing: the lacy black panties that you’d left on top of the pile.
Without thinking twice, Choso’s hybrid tail was wagging. Without thinking even once, Choso’s hand had cast out and grabbed it.
And brought it to his face to sniff—
Then lo and behold, he was sporting an utterly painful boner that made the hybrid rush straight back into the bathroom. Except…this time, it was one that couldn’t be willed away no matter how many cold buckets of water he poured over his head, no matter how many times he thought about unsexy practices like taxes or…basically anything that wasn’t related to you, or anything you wore, or anything you said.
He’d been forced to wrap a guilty hand around his cock and jerk himself to ecstasy before he could leave the bathroom again.
This time, as long as he avoided looking at your panties on the laundry pile, he was able to leave the room without popping a boner.
Kidding.
Choso Kamo made two steps before he was feeling something akin to withdrawals—and soon enough, he was finding himself elbow-deep in the laundry bucket, shuffling around to hunt each and every pair of panties he could find. And then—and then he was speed-walking to the laundry room itself, grabbing every single scrap of overpriced lace he could find: washed and unwashed.
Dropping it all down on the bed before tearing his shorts down and pulling his cock raw. Tail wagging. Palm red. Mouth gaping open.
What was happening to him?
What was happening to his body?
Why was he feeling so…
But no matter how many times he was cummin’ all over your scattered panties on the bed - it still wasn’t enough for him.
And that’s the state you found your poor, poor boyfriend in when you came home.
.
.
.
Squelch!
“J-just a little more…” Choso’s voice comes out botched. Hot breaths sticking to the column of your neck, making the skin ‘round that area feel sticky.
Everything about this was such a mess.
Such a mess.
The bedsheets sticking to your back. The cum flowing between your quivering legs. Even Choso’s movements- the smallest, sloppiest semi-thrusts that were all he could manage. Anything more and he was on the verge of cumming blanks—so now he merely had his ruby-red tip stuffed between your pussylips n’ delicately shifting your sweet spots aside.
Large tears start up at his waterline and end up flowing down his cheeks. “Just a little more and I think m’gonna stop, baby.”
“No need to rush, Cho.” You coo reassuringly from beneath him. Reaching one hand up, you wipe away some of Choso’s tears. “Take as long as you need.”
His hybrid tail wags behind him as he takes in your words. You always did treat him so tenderly.
“Yes, but I p-promise…” He whimpers. Such a sweet, sweet noise hatching at the back of his throat as he bucks his hips backwards- n’ draws a gluey vertical line down the expanse of your cervix. “Just one more and m’gonna- hck! stop.”
“Of course.” Pushing back on the dark brown bangs that stuck to his forehead, “But remember that you’re in rut, baby. I don’t know if it’ll- haaah, end so easily.”
“But I’ve gotta.”
Voice cracking.
Desperate—just so desperate.
His hips are stuttering forwards at an incredible pace, lashing out into every hidden ridge n’ crevice deep inside you. Even more powerful because of his hybrid status. The toned edges of his pelvis are practically gluing to you—feeling sleek all over with a layer of sheen that escapes from the top of his ruddied tip. Even though Choso wasn’t exactly cumming at the moment, he was bawling out such volumes of precum that made it feel as though he was. And he thumbs it inside you with a whimper.
“I n-need to. This has to be the last one.” Almost breathing. Almost speaking to himself rather than you. He continues between punctured thrusts, “You wanna know why? Otherwise m’just gonna keep cumming, baby…”
Your eyes widen. “What do you mean, Choso?”
Hiccups crackle at the back of his throat. His ears start to droop.
And with a trembling expression, Choso thumbs in the last of his translucent sap. Then he’s holding onto the base of his cock and funneling you with it- you think he might be holdin’ onto himself to better guide his probing tip into your sweet spots…but no.
No, you’re quickly coming to realize that Choso was grasping onto himself solely because he needed to stop himself from cumming so much. Needed to.
There’s a twitch between his eyebrows, and he bites down on his lower lip as he waves off yet another high. “I-I just can’t seem to stop.” And it wasn’t just that pussydrunken tone of his - Choso sounded absolutely gone, ruined, wrecked by this point. “I don’t know what’s gotten over me—but I just wanna fuck you all full until I physically can’t cum anymore…”
“Oh—” Your moans are long and hollowed.
“I just wanna start shooting blanks- maybe that’d get me to stop fucking you finally.” Between the slurps and squelches of your cunt gulping him up, he manages to echo his words. “It’s just so addictive, baby…” Pulling out the raw, sap-glossed edge of his shaft- he draws a few hearts on top of your pussy before funneling back in. “I just wanna fuck you like a damn dog-”
“Oh!” Because at that very moment, Choso leans forwards and bites a good marking at the crook of your neck. “Easy there, boy.”
Hips only speeding up. Hips only milking himself even more…“I just wanna watch my girl’s pussy get covered in my cum. Flood with it.” He sniffles, “I just wanna ngh- fuck you and fuck you—” Attacking your mouth with a sloppy, passionate kiss. “-again and again and again- I can’t fucking stop myself.”
And Choso had long since been pussydrunken- his rut just made him extra-sensitive to those lecherous sensations.
But now you were almost as cockdrunk.
Jaw dropping. Heels hooking around his waist. Pupils shaping into hearts—Choso takes one single look at that expression, and his entire body’s wracking in visceral shivers.
That animalistic side to him taking over as he fucks you long and hard- “Baby, I think m’gonna cum again soon…” He whispers in your ear. “And after I cum again- ngh, m’gonna need you to put me back in my senses before I go another round. And then another—and another. Because soon enough m’gonna be fucking you for daaaaaays.”
“I don’t mind.” You mutter, more to yourself.
“What was that?” He asks.
And you’re shaking your head: you knew that Choso thought you couldn’t take it with your human stamina. He wanted to go for days. You wanted to go for days…“Nothing at all.” Hooking your arms around his neck, “Cum inside me, baby.”
It takes only a few more vulgar strokes before he’s finishing off—so overstimulated by this point that it’s just a few pearly-white beads of sap. Just a few trickles of hot cum. Before nothing more can escape out of him- and Choso’s merely bucking into you for pleasure, riding out the dry waves of his orgasm. Cumming dry.
Peak after peak.
Rollin’ his dried-up cock into your gooey depths.
He shakes as his bliss overcomes him. The prettiest tears dripping down his cheeks and hanging off of his pointed chin.
Soon enough, he’s fucked himself limp on your perfect pussy.
And all it takes is a mere nudge to flip your positions; with Choso seats back against the pillows, and you straddling his reddened hips. Bouncin’ your cunt down his thick cock.
His eyes damn-near bulge out of his skull. Though you can see his long tail wagging happily- “But baby, can you—”
“I can take it.” You smirk. “So be a good puppyboy f’me and beg.”
“W-woof…”
A rut could last a week.
♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy, Tiger…
Hybrid type: Panthera tigris
Now, it was no secret that your boyfriend is a tiger hybrid.
Endangered. Enormous. The rarest amongst even the rare hybrids; his striped tail and broad figure drew stares wherever the two of you went. Often, onlookers were torn between admiration and intimidation as they gazed upon the great hybrid- the great hybrid that caught their stares, crumpled them up, and flung them right back at them at 308 mph with a single glare…
Needless to say, Ryomen Sukuna’s temper was one befitting of a tiger hybrid.
And most people knew not to mess with your boyfriend. Most people knew not to so much as nudge his patience.
Except for you, that is.
“Meow for me, Kuna.” You didn’t care if you got on his nerves.
“Fuck off.”
“Pleeeeease—?”
“What sort of fuckin’ tiger hybrid meows?”
You’re seated on Sukuna’s lap while he tries to work on some ol’ project; knees straddling his waist, back facing his laptop, and your fingers dug into his coral-pink hair. It was just so soft and bouncy underneath your touch, and soon enough your hands found themselves edging into the sinuous area of his ears.
Tiger ears.
“H-hah…” He shivers. “Watch your hands, woman.” Comes Sukuna’s low snarl. His breath tickles the column of your neck, and in your peripheral vision you see his long canines point. “Y’know damn well that I’m sensitive there.”
“Oh, are you?” With a dramatic gasp, you’re turning to face him. And laughter bubbles to your throat as you notice the irritated tick in his jaw already. “Sensitive? And here I thought you were some big, bad tiger hybrid.”
Sukuna looks at you incredulously, “Damn right I am.”
“Oh yeah?” And then your fingers are gliding up the mountains of his ears. Right from the base, and then up to the very tip-
“H-hey—fuck.” A carnal shiver wracks through him, and Sukuna’s striped tail sways from side-to-side behind him. “That doesn’t prove anything?”
And then right back down again—and then…fuck, and then you’re finding that good spot behind his ears that makes him shutter his eyes and lean into your touch. Like some damn housecat, Sukuna’s letting out a slow, satisfied purr as your fingers continue their fatal ministrations. He’d slap himself if it didn’t feel so good.
Through the slight gaps in his vision, he spots a victorious grin spread across your pretty lips. “Meow f’me, Kuna.”
Leaning deeper into your touch. His lips purse, “M-me…” And then Sukuna’s eyes shoot open as he realizes just what he was about to do.
Just what you were close to making him do.
A fucking tiger hybrid and he’s meowing for you?!
Now that can’t be.
Before you know it, one of Sukuna’s large, bulky hands reaches up and smushes your cheeks together- how cute. Those honed nails of his prickle over your skin - just light enough to send goosebumps scattering - and then he’s running it down to grab you by your throat.
“You exceed your limits, brat.”
You smirk n’ lean down to kiss him on the nose. “Easy, tiger.”
And the thing is…Sukuna’s heart jumps to his throat - and his cock - the moment he reads that expression on your face. The type of smugness that told him- you wanted to be fucked back into your place.
He huffs. Silly little human—
Just a few minutes later, the massive hybrid has you stood and shoved against the edge of his work desk. Polished oak pushing against your body, Sukuna’s front pressing into you from behind; even the slightest squirms mean you can feel his erect cock. Those important documents his assistant, Uraume, told him were confidential go flying everywhere the minute he’s clawin’ aside your sodden panties- ripping them.
Giving his rock-hard erection a good squeeze before shoving down his grey sweatpants and shovelling himself raw.
Not the barest bit of stretchin’ out your elastic hole. Before you feel himself fitting in until the very hilt-
“Oh-ohhhh—” Your hands are shooting out in front of you, dragging faint nail marks into the wood. Mouth dropping agonizingly as the delicious curve of his length starts smearing down your goopy walls.
Just a single semi-thrust. Just a lurch of his globular tip- swipin’ down every sweet cranny and orifice without even trying. Your back arches into him, “Kuna, that feels so- mmpf!”
Before you know it, one of his large hands comes up to cover your mouth. “Shut it, girlie. M’trying to make you meow for me.”
Lashes fluttering, “M-me?”
Yet another rugged slam! The luscious tip of his shaft opens up every crevice and seeps hot precum into your every pore. Sukuna always managed to fuck you so agonizingly well—and even now, he was rendering your body weak and tremblin’ with just a few hits to the back of your pussy. Back and forth. Back and forth.
One of his roughened hands glides down your back until it rests on the base of your spine. Arching you even more.
The sensual end of his shaft curved up juuuuuust a little upwards and dragged his drivelling tip down the roof of your cunt. And you can’t help but moan out-
“Now now.” A slam of his left hand down on your stuffed pussy. Sukuna cranes his head to the side and watches those bloated lips of yours quiver- adorable. “What did I say about you stayin’ quiet?”
“I-I didn’t realize you were seriou- mmm.” He’s pressing his right palm further against your face.
He whispers, “Or m’slapping this ungrateful cunt once for every word.”
Pushing against you. Pinning you beneath him. Keeping your restless hips in place - no matter how much you’re bucking and begging for more, Sukuna’s the one in control of how his solid, veiny inches were dragging in and out of your pussy. Again and again.
And as he’s pummeling into you as if he was furious—Sukuna spits out mercilessly, “Don’t tell me I’ve gotta fuck you stupid to make you shut up?” His tone was low and dangerous- one of his knees shoves between your legs n’ spreads them even wider for easier access. “Are you this pussy?” When you don’t answer, he’s letting his hips run even deeper and massage your ass cheeks with his scruff of pink happy trail. “Huh?”
Confusion and lust befogging your brain- “N-no…?”
He’s puncturing each syllable with thrusts- honing in deep at the back of your gooey pussy. You’re openin’ up so readily for him. “Are you the one I want meowing?”
Ribbons of spit fall from your lips and soil his palm. “No.”
“And so are you supposed to speak?”
“No-”
“Then why the fuck are you speaking now?”
Even now.
That little—
Your jaw drops as you realize that you’d just been baited into wasting your breath, your words- and your head swivels ‘round to look at him.
And oh, what a sight…
You’re only met with Sukuna’s cocky smile and your stinging pussy being punished with three more consecutive slap-slap-slaps that send shockwaves of pain and pleasure through your veins. The entire expanse of your body seems to be set alight. The tips of your toes are curling inwards-
And as if your body couldn’t have been any more unstable; Sukuna’s powerful tail hooks around your right calf and maneuvers it as if you were nothing but a pretty lil’ doll beneath him. Just the cutest little mewls dripping out of you once his hybrid appendage drags your leg up onto the table and keeps it there—so pliable for him. This sudden change in angle makes his thick, vein-covered cock rover even deeper.
With the burgeoning end of his tip, he’s pinpointing every single nook and bundle of nerves.
“I don’t wanna hear another peep out of you, m’here to listen to this pretty pussy. And I don’t care if I have to fuck you stupid to listen to this kitty…” Sukuna warns. And as your chest heaves, he’s removing his hand from your mouth- you can moan n’ mewl as much as you wanted.
But rest assured that he’s still keeping his claws ‘round your throat and making you whimper as those pointed tips graze your tender skin. Marking you. “I…mmm.”
It’s almost too much for him to handle: watching you chew on the inside of your cheek as you held your words back.
And with a gleeful smile, the tiger hybrid leans back n’ coos at your pussy - folds glistening with the excess of his precum clinging onto you, the outer edges of your cunt bloated from how many times he’s slamming and slamming against them. Until the area of his pelvis burns red. “Heeeeere kitty kitty~” You’ve never heard him speak to you like that…“This girl here’s jealous because m’giving you special treatment. Why don’tcha show her who owns this cock?”
“Kun- oh.” Pressing your lips together as the fire starts sizzling at the pit of your stomach.
“Because you do own this cock- me, don’t you?” Giving you yet another spank! “I’d meow for you.”
“Pussydrunk…” You mutter- only to be hit with another barrage of slap-slaps that were just pushing you closer towards the edge.
“Why dont’cha make a scene? Make some noise f’me?” And then his left hand dips between your legs and ends up grazing between your pussylips. Finding that button of your clit. “Why don’tcha meow—?”
And all it takes is one squeeze- one.
Before light explodes behind your closed eyelids - when did you even shut them - and you’re suddenly being propelled into your high. Your orgasm thunders between your legs n’ shoots hot dopamine through every vein, vessel, and atom.
It takes over your body in a wave- harsh and fast.
And as the torrents of it take over you, Sukuna’s keeping a firm hand latched onto your pussy and rolling over your throbbing clit. Meanwhile his cock accelerates in and out to bash you through every incredible peak.
“Yeah- yeah.” Sukuna hisses into your ear, breath scorching enough that it causes your surrounding skin to perspire. The space between you two was non-existent and sizzling. “Yeahhhh, feels pretty good, huh?”
His tiger tail pushes down on your restless leg- keeping you hiked up. And Sukuna’s ruthless hits only get more and more accurate by the second: your g-spot was likely reddened n’ stinging from the inside.
“Feels nice to meow? S’this what you wanted so bad—” Those sweet, sweet noises of you getting even wetter as he fucked you through your orgasm…like music to his ears. “And awwww, look at that- heh…” Sukuna’s thumb taps down on your pulsating clit, “She’s even purring f’me.”
The two most prominent veins down his shaft make you mewl as he’s bouncing off every good spot. And you claw down his table as you keen—“Y-you’re going to- oh. M’gonna get you back for this, gonna milk you dry just wait and watch.”
Without a second of hesitation, you reach up and graze your fingertips across his twitching ears.
And at that very moment, you feel his bulging cock swell even impossibly bigger inside of you.
He purrs, hybrid tail pulling you both closer together. “Easy, tiger.”
♡ INO TAKUMA - LET THE DOGS OUT!
Hybrid type: Canis lupus familiaris
“You’re wrong.”
“I’m right.”
“You’re wrong-”
“I’m wrong.”
“You’re right-” Ino blinks. “No, wait—”
But you’re jumping on it just as quickly. “Awww, thank you for telling me what I already know, Taku.” You’re running your hands through his tawny golden hair, scratching behind the hybrid’s golden retriever ears- dammit, you knew he was weak for this. How evil….
And he can only manage out a half-hearted growl.
To which you’re raising your brows, and it’s enough to make Ino nuzzle the crook of your neck. Hiding the pretty pout that was surely taking over his lips by now.
“Down, boy.” You smirk, “So you agree with me that cat hybrids are better, huh?”
“No!”
Before you can get out anything more, he’s clawin’ onto your oversized t-shirts. Pawing you. Placating those traitorous words of yours by pressing his heated body even closer.
Ino mutters, “And I can prove it, too.” So determined.
If there was anything that Ino hated more than those damn cat hybrids with their feline sneakiness and obsessive preening; then it was your admiration for it. Your attention. And though he knew that part of you was teasing - quite successfully, at that - you didn’t expect a golden retriever hybrid to act normal about it, did you?
Chuckling, “And how’s that?”
Oh, you knew you were in for it.
Because no matter how cute cat hybrids could be, nothing could ever compare to how possessive puppyboys were.
.
.
.
“See? See—?” Ino’s tone was utterly botched; husky and cracking embarrassingly towards the very end. Unstable. There was a carnal nature to it that just made the hairs on your body raise- and no matter how desperately you’ve heard him speak before, nothing could compare to this.
As he’s holding- practically gluing your hips down onto his.
Skin against skin. Hot sweat gliding between the two of you.
Letting the blushing, bulging tip of his cock swab inside his eighth orgasm of the night. The miry ribbons of his sap layerin’ around his inches and getting pushed in even deeper—or at least attempting to.
Ino had cum so many times tonight that he was having a hard time keeping it all in.
In and in—again and again. A few beads of his cream-white cum foams between your legs and makes the hybrid’s nose crinkle- he’s reaching his left hand up and pushing the excess inside with his thumb. “See? Feel me filling you up with so much cum? All the way until…” Reachin’ up just a little and pushing down on your stomach, he watches as it makes the wads of cum stuffed inside you empty out. “-you’re just bloated with me.”
Making an even bigger mess for him to pretend to have to ‘clean up’ or something or the other.
And you’re feeling so good- Ino’s curvaceous tip was smoochin’ around your sweetest inside. Your most sensitive parts. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck- I can feel you so deep inside.”
“Right from these pussylips…and right up to your womb.” Ino sputters out. And it’s a sheer wonder that he could even string together coherent sentences at this point—just that pussydrunk. “I’ve m-made my mark eeeeeverywhere on this pussy, sweetness.”
“M-made your mark?” You giggle- he was just speaking nonsense. But it was just so cute how earnestly Ino meant it.
His long, doe-like lashes fluttering. His beautiful brown eyes tearing up. His lips quivering the slightest bit every time your walls were clenchin’ and milking him; draaaaagging sloppily from the girthy end of his base and up to his slender tip. “Mhm-” Nodding and nodding- the clapping noises of his hips meeting yours just speeds up. “So that even when m’cleaned out of you, you’re gonna feel me- gonna feel empty without me.”
“Oh…” Your maw drops.
And he’s immediately lurching his dazed head upwards and planting a direct thwack! of spittle between your gorgeous lips. “Even these lips. You’re gonna miss me- ngh, s-stuffing these pretty walls full. You’re gonna miss the feeling of me here—”
Mazin’ between your clingy walls, entering his swollen head into your womb.
“-begging for pups.”
“Baby, you’re pussydrunk-”
Though the words don’t seem to reach his buzzing ears.
“And any other fuckin’ cat hybrid-” He spits out those last two words like venom. Teeth just a little bared. “-are gonna know. They’re gonna smell me on you.” Hybrids, in general, always did have more heightened senses than humans. “They’re gonna sense me. They’re gonna know that Ino Takuma has been here—that he’s made this pussy his before any of them could.”
Lovingly, Ino’s patting your bloated pussy- plap-plap!
You’re so wet that beads of sap n’ cum end up smeared across his fingertips. And he’s skating them down your crevice to pinch at your throbbing clit.
His hybrid tail wags beneath him; you could sense the sheets shifting as a result. “And they’re gonna know…” Ino’s mouth waters just at the notion. “-that I’ve been a good boy for you.”
Your breath hitches at the feeling of something building, and building, and building deep within you.
It’s accumulating with every single ruthless slam! that he was honing out. Hitting every tender area- your g-spot was aaaaaching for touch every single time Ino pulled back to reel in again, just addicted to him already.
And soon enough, you’re finding yourself meeting his every thrust with a needy bounce.
Making your hybrid boyfriend beneath you get pushed up and down the creaking bed- his ears twist in ecstasy when you accelerate. “Now, I wouldn’t say that…” You murmur, and without a single warning—you’re reaching up and tugging on one of fluffy ears. “-you’ve been a real bad boy, Taku.”
“B-but I am better than any cat hybrid… And then his voice is breaking- and Ino Takuma is shattering into his ninth high of the night.
Honestly, it doesn’t even feel like his ninth high.
It feels like five at once. Harsh bouts of pleasure thrum through his body; making it feel as though every single droplet of blood he possessed was rushing out of his limbs and collecting at the very tip-top crown of his shaft. That blushin’ rouge tip just pouring out sticky wads of cum into your deepest depths, sliding them along his heavy inches and into your squeezing walls-
Ino babbles away stupidly as he cums- “I thought I was a good boy.” He hiccups, his lower lip quivering delicately. “Thought I was—ngh, better than…oh.”
And then he’s planting both feet on the navy-blue sheets and arching even deeply up into you.
Desperately.
He was practically wrenching your next orgasm out of you.
You’re letting out a brief whimper at the sudden shockwaves of bliss overtaking you - rendering your vision a little bleary, and your toes curled in pleasure.
And through the fogginess that curls around your brain, you’re able to witness how his long lashes start to dapple in tears. Huffing, “So mean t’me, pretty…”
You snicker, “Only because I love you, Taku.” Leaning down to kiss him tenderly- “You know I can stop the joking around if you want?”
“No…” He shakes his head. “When you’re mean to me it makes me hard.”
Oh.
And what else were you supposed to do; but hum thoughtfully to yourself as you reached out and shuffled in the bedside cabinet? Bringing out that bright-red collar that he loved so much? Snagging it around Ino’s pretty throat and watching as his Adam’s apple bobs-
“Then why don’t you act like a good boy f’me, hm?”
Ino gulps. “Y-yes, ma’am.”
♡ GOJO SATORU - #PUSSYPOWER!
Hybrid type: Panthera uncia
Two words: Snow Leopard.
If there ever were a breed of cat hybrids that drew more attention than a Snow Leopard, then Gojo Satoru would find them and throttle them himself.
Kidding…of course.
But that’s to be said: there were reasons that he was the most talked-about man on campus, among both humans and hybrids alike. He was the frat president of Curses Epsilon, he was tall (6’4 on a bad day, according to the man himself), he was beefy, he was accomplished in a plethora of sports and physics academics of which medals and certificates lined his fraternity bedroom. Did he mention he was president of Curses Epsilon?
Even those dog hybrids that seemed to have a perpetual grudge against the feline type had to admit that there was something eye-catching about him.
Blue hair. Impish smile. White hair—the sole reason that white hair started trending- and even those proud grey wolf hybrids started dying their hair to match him.
At least according to him, that’s the reason.
All in all, the point was that when Gojo Satoru had asked you out - after an entire semester of crushing on you during Professor Yaga’s lectures, sitting in the row behind you - you said no. And he’d damn-near had a heart attack—so did just about everyone in the vicinity that heard you. You just rejected Gojo Satoru himself.
Were pigs about to fly?! They shifted awkwardly in the distance.
And looking at the crestfallen expression on his face, you couldn’t help but explain…you’d never dated a cat hybrid before. You didn’t know if you’d mesh well.
But he’d promised.
He’d promised that it’d be no different. Whatever other hybrids you’d dated in the past - whatever snakes and eugh…dog hybrids - he’d be even better than them.
He’d treat you so much better. He’d fuck you so much bett—
You’d slapped a hand over his mouth and stopped him right then n’ there. And sweeping a look at the people around you two - you find that they were pretending to be far more interested in the surrounding flooring or their textbooks in order to overhear your conversation - you promised that you’d go out with him. Just one date, you’d said.
Glee shone in his eyes—so bright that you almost had to look away.
That one date at some rundown campus coffee shop had turned into two. Two dates had turned into three. Three dates had turned into four-
Then lo and behold, you found yourself dating the most talked-about man on campus. Which seemed like a null title considering it was university, but then again this was Gojo Satoru.
And a relationship with him had been just as electric as you expected.
Especially when it was around a month in- and Gojo had come to your apartment after a four-hour long lecture. Ready to rant about his day. Ready to fall into your bed and sleep Gakuganji’s no-good assignments off.
But a single step inside and…and he’d raised his nose into the air.
He’d taken a deep sniff.
Pupils becoming pinpoints. Fluffy tail swishing from side-to-side.
Beneath the usual lemon-scented spray that you’d use to clean your glasses, there was something…more. Something…different. It was something carnal and alluring—and it was coming from right between your legs as you walked out to greet him. Your pussy smelled strangely, irresistibly sweet to the hybrid.
Gojo Satoru looked at you and a jolt ran through your body at the expression on his face. Primal.
.
.
.
“Heeeeere, kitty kitty~”
You yelp—
And before you know it, your hands are clawing at the twisted-up blankets as you’re dragged back. Fucking dragged back into the hybrid’s mounted body, his hot breath plastering against the side of your neck- where you’d been bitten n’ marked raw. “Wh-where do you think you’re going?”
Your jaw drops.
Gojo’s tone was hitched. Gojo’s tone was on the verge of ruins.
It was unsteady at the ends of his words- and there was a sort of crazed tinge to it—just like the rest of his body, Gojo’s voice was trembling. Wound tight and on the verge of breaking. For the most uncountable time tonight, he shovels his ravaged cock between the cute crevice of your pussylips- and finds himself letting out an agonized whimper.
“Fuh-fuck.” The frat president is letting out. Tail curling ‘round your right calf to prevent you from running any further, tears breaking out across his cheeks. That muscular body of his was often the target of both admiration and envy: broad shoulders, slutty waist. There was so much power held in it as one of the apex hybrids on campus—and yet, right now it was clamoring up onto yours and damn-near collapsing. “Fuck- fuck- fuck.”
Every profanity was punctuated with a torturous drag of his cock inside you. Beneath him, you’re supported only with a single arm of his hooked underneath your stomach- getting thrown ‘round by the sheer force of his thrusts.
It’s been like this for hours since he’d gotten back.
And by now, Gojo was completely and utterly overstimulated.
But there was no way he was stopping any time soon. Not when you were…
“In heat.”
“Satoru, I told you I’m human—oh.” The way his round, ruby-red tip was entering your walls…there was just no way to describe it. There was nothing to compare to how he’d thrust apart your gluey channel and poke that one spot he knew you loved so much. And with a wretched mewl, you’re bucking back into his body. “H-humans don’t have heats, silly.”
His sharpened canines drag across the expanse of shoulder once he dips his head, cat-like ears twitching. “Then what’s that sweetness I smell?”
As if to emphasize his point, Gojo takes a looooong heave.
Nostrils flaring. Eyes growing wilder the more he’s taking in the saturated air- to him, it was an addicting combination of sex, sweat, and something sweet.
Something he couldn’t describe.
Something that befogged his mind and made his eyes roll to the back of his head. A carnal shiver wracks through him.
And it’s not long before his bludgeoning tip empties out a few more ribbons of precum- it’s enough to make warmth seep into your belly. Arousal pangs through your body, and it’s just then that Gojo lurches his head up and looks at you with primal eyes. “See- there. There.” Yet another ravenous push to the back of your pussy. His ears listen for the sloppy songs your pussy was givin’ off. “Your heat just got stronger. Do that again, sweetheart—I’m begging you, do that again for your Toru.”
“I-I don’t even know what you mean- fuck, that feels good.” You yelp.
“Do it again—do I have to get on my knees…?” And after a few more thrusts, he’s emanating out a low chuckle - he really is Gojo, after all. “Well, I guess I already am on my knees.” Knees that were currently being chafed with the constant back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
“You need to shut up and- oh, believe me when I say I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Though you certainly weren’t complaining about the utterly feral way he was fucking you. “I think you’re just in rut- mmpf.”
He’s plastering one of his sweaty palms over your mouth.
And then the two of you are falling backwards; Gojo’s sitting back on his haunches, upright, and taking you with him. He pounds away up into you as he remains seated kneeling—the erect length of his cock splittin’ your pussy apart so deliciously.
Underneath his hand, your maw drops into a lecherous ‘oh’ that makes Gojo remove his palm. And then he wastes no time spittin’ into it.
Watching as his gentle wad reaches deep into your gullet.
The snow leopard hybrid purrs as you babble in response- his deep vibrations thrumming through your body. With the accelerating pace of his hips, you’re merely growing even wetter - sloppily so - and Gojo’s practically drowning in his ecstasy as the scented air intensifies. As it takes over his entire body—practically speaks to him at a lesser, more base level. “These past few days…oh, these past few days I’ve been sensing it building up.”
The past few days? “Sh-shiiiiit.” You’re keening as his clawed hand slides down to press on your stomach- where his thickened cock was spearheading constantly.
“I’ve been smelling it on me- I’ve been jerking myself off to it thinking that it was one of your new perfumes.” And you’re unsure whether it was because of how pussydrunk he was, or purely because this was Gojo Satoru, but he doesn’t show even the slightest speck of abashment when admitting this. “And come to think of it…it’s just your heat, my girl.”
Pushing down even harder- massaging where his bulbous tip edged along your g-spot.
“This pussy’s just been yearning f’me - I can practically hear her yowling for my cock.”
“I’m c-close—” You babble out.
Gojo’s large, fluffy tail wraps around your waist to hold you better to him.
“Oh, what a coincidence. That’s what- hah, she’s sayin’ too.” And with a few more vicious probes into your sweetest spots, you’re propelled into your high n’ Gojo’s fucking you through it maddeningly. He isn’t thrown off by the way you’re splashin’ down his thick thighs.
Squirting.
In great, torrential waves of your orgasm.
It’s coming out in a glittery sheen- down between your legs and plastering across his own skin. Those areas of slammin’ contact between your two bodies are even louder now—plap-plap-plapping as Gojo fucks you through your high.
Every peak and stride. Eeeeveery single height of bliss that sends dopamine pouring into your veins. Somehow, he’s managing to maze his cock into eeeevery single sweet spot you loved- and that’s elongating your orgasm until you’re in tears. “Please- fuh-fuuuuck, just like that. Just like that, just like that- oh, ngh—”
“Make a mess- make a fucking mess, sweetheart.”
“It’s too much- oh.” Back arching. Toes curling. Your heartbeat pounds in your eardrums- and you’re so far gone that you almost don’t notice the way that Gojo himself is cumming.
Though if you’re soaking him, he’s cumming dry - the tip of his irritated shaft twitches like he’s pumping out wads of seed. But what really comes out is…nothing.
Though Gojo really does feel the waves of pleasure that overtake him, even though he’s cumming dry. He’s clenching his pretty eyes shut, he’s letting his mouth quiver- just the cutest whimpers of your name escaping him as your boyfriend keeps rammin’ away his orgasm into you.
So overstimulated.
Gojo lovingly pats your quiverin’ pussy.
“And it’s all thanks to this- hah, heat here.” Gojo murmurs, his fuzzy hybrid tail briefly spankin’ down on your sopping slit before he moves it away. “Managed to make my girl squirt.”
“Heat…” Your nose crinkles, “I really don’t get why you think I’ve been in heat these past few- oh.”
Oh.
It hits you like a semi-truck.
“Satoru, did you mean my ovulation?”
The snow leopard hybrid considers this as he starts buckin’ into a whole new round.
“Ovulation…” Gojo whispers to himself- like a prayer. “Ovulation and I are gonna be besties.”
♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - Sssstudy time.
Hybrid type: Dendroaspis polylepis
You couldn’t focus.
Maybe it was due to the column of assignments that you’d been (quite irresponsibly) been putting off; maybe it was due to the fact that your snake hybrid boyfriend was staying over and a bit too much of a…distraction.
And the worst part was that he wasn’t even doing anything—Higuruma Hiromi sat quietly at the foot of your bed, leafing through the pages of a law textbook that you’re sure he’d already memorized from cover to cover. Unlike you, the law professor didn’t need to rush through assignments - which meant he was particularly ruthless when handing them out.
A forbidden relationship.
A secret.
The hybrid professor was amongst the most ogled-at on campus.
And it’d taken an entire semester of your prettiest skirts and your flirtiest one-liners during tutoring lessons before Higuruma had finally gone against his personal code to ask you out.
But only after you’d moved on from his class.
And it seems that dating a law professor didn’t give you an edge- but then again, you didn’t start dating him for the edge at all.
Higuruma Hiromi was just too attractive. And smart. And gentlemanly. And hiding a sense of witty humor he rarely revealed to anyone but you.
And it was making you stray your eyes away from the utterly droll except on the rules of estate inheritance. But who could blame you? The man of thirty-two sat with his sternly handsome features pinched into something focused; sleeves of his button-up pushed to his elbows, slivers of his skin somewhat scaly, dark eyes examining the page in a way that made you squirm…
He’d never interrupt your studying. But then again he didn’t have to try.
You sigh.
Law degrees were hard.
Higuruma doesn’t look up from his textbook, “Sssomething the matter, angel?”
“Nothing.” You counter- before realizing that lying to the best lawyer in Tokyo probably wasn’t the smartest idea. “It’s just…I can’t seem to focus.”
“Oh. Why’s that?” He looks at you with his brows furrowed in concern.
You—you want to say. It’s solely because of him that you couldn’t focus.
Not when he’s sitting there so close, and so attractive, and so irresistible- honestly who in their right mind would be able to focus on land disputes and things when it comes to something like this? And though you don’t verbalize your thoughts, you’re sure a part of it shows on your expression.
Because without another word, Higuruma sets his book down on the bed—leaning ever-so-slightly backwards and opening his thick thighs up invitingly. You don’t have to wait for him to reach his arms out and beckon you forwards- you’re already getting up and gladly leaving your assignments behind. “Come here, sssugar. Let me teach you how to focus.”
In just about no time, your clothes are hitting the floor.
As they seem wont to do whenever you’re around him…
But nonetheless, Higuruma soon as your legs positioned atop his bulky shoulders - slightly unsteady given the semi-scaled surface of his skin.
Back arched. Cunt dripping all over the freshly-washed sheets.
Higuruma meets the front of your cunt with his thickened tip, swipin’ it up and down the line of your folds. Dripping wet—you’re letting out the most delicious wet noises once he’s teasing your entrance- just barely probing his swollen cockhead inside, then out…watching as your hole seems to gape and clench around nothing—
In. Then out.
In. Then out.
Before you’re growing far too impatient with his toying- and you’re bucking up deftly into him. “Hiromi, just fuck me already…”
“Just fuck you already?” He tuts, though you could hear the faint amusement in his tone. And then the hybrid’s swatting down two smooth slaps right between your pussylips- making your moans strangle in your throat. “How impatient. It seems I have more to teach you about focus and patience than I thought.”
“Fuck.”
And then he’s smiling down lovingly at you.
Perking his head up, Higuruma reaches up and grabs something off the headboard.
And whilst you’re concentrating on not ogling his forearm muscles too much, he’s producing that jet-black tie of his that’d been thrown off in the hassle to strip yourselves of your clothes. As you watch him in slight confusion, Higuruma nods his head reassuringly down at you - and ties the silk fabric around your eyes.
A blindfold.
“Easy there.” He comforts in that warm baritone of his. You knew that he’d never do anything you didn’t want to do; and seeing him break that cold facade for you was one of your favorite parts about this.
Higuruma was running his hands comfortingly down the sides of your body, he was making sure that blindfold wasn’t too tight—he was ultimately resting his slender fingers between your quivering thighs n’ rolling over your clit. “Eeeeeasy, my girl. Now focus.” You’re nodding before you even know what he’s about to say- and that makes him smile. “I’ll be giving you one of my two cocks, and you have to guess which one it is, okay?”
Because there was another thing about snake hybrids: they had two cocks.
Long and rock-hard. Higuruma’s were blushed the prettiest rouge on his tips- stacked on one top of the other, they were both drivelling out ribbons of precum at the impatience to get inside you. Maybe he could learn a thing or two from the lesson he was drilling into you, but oh…
“Oh, f-fuuuuuck.” Soon enough - even though you can’t see him - you can feel the rotund intrusion of one of his tips. Piercing between your swollen lips and pressing deeper inside.
Deeper and deeper.
It doesn’t take long before Higuruma’s punctuating your goopy insides with thorough, passionate strokes. He just loved sweeping across every sweet spot inside you until it left you speechless—lingerin’ that hot tip of his where your g-spot was, and then lingering on your cervix. Repeatedly, he’s hitting the thoughts out of your mind; though…that’s not entirely what tonight was about, was it?
“Now now…” You’re feeling two gentle slaps to the left side of your face. “Don’t get too fucked stupid already, angel. Focus. Which one is this? Upper or lower?”
“What- oh, fuck.” Whatever response was on the tip of your tongue is fucked away- by the indulged stripes he was drawing at the back of your pussy. Watery saliva pools in your mouth as you feel the stretch of your walls—almost to their limits. “Fuck, it feels so good, Hiro-”
Another slight spank. “I’m teaching you a lesson right now, angel. You refer to me as sssir-”
“Sir-”
“No…” Squeezing at your clit with his other hand.
Startling you. Suddenly making you buck. It makes you bellow out without even trying—“I s-said it feels so good- ngh, sssir.” Slurring your words.
Though that’s exactly what he wanted.
“Good.” And you could practically hear the smile in his words. Though Higuruma doesn’t let up so easily- in fact, he’s doing the complete opposite. “That’s how you need to focus.”
Another small slap to your cheeks, a little harder this time.
You keen.
“Upper or lower, sssugar?” He hisses.
You’re gasping for air. “I-I—”
And Higuruma being a snake hybrid meant that his mushroomy tip would be flared even larger than most hybrid species or even humans. It was the perfect shape: curved upwards, patterned with numerous veins and ridges. The area above his slit was the most delicious mechanism to drag across your inside and drive you absolutely wiiiiild.
And soon enough, you’re bucking up with a moan. “Upper….no, ngh! Lower?” Honestly, it was enough of a feat that you could speak with the way he was ruining your insides so well.
“Wrong.” Higuruma responds simply.
And then you’re feeling him slap your sweaty cheeks- and then plant a harder one down on your incorrect pussy. Before the snake hybrid reels his pelvis backwards—back and back, all the way backwards before his swollen tip is pulling out of your hole with an audible pop! And then funneling back in again.
“Upper or lower?” Higuruma asks once more.
By deduction through logic, you’re gasping- “Lower-”
“Wrong again.”
It was just so cute how your mouth drops at that very second - and the older man can’t help but lean down and give that gaping maw of yours a lil’ slap, too. Just a little punishment.
Before he’s coursing in even harder strokes—more merciless. He was molding your soft insides to the shape of him - both of him - and it made your toes curl just how mean he was being with your body right now. His heavy balls enunciating each thrust with a thwack-thwack-thwack!
How lecherous.
Higuruma alternates between his two lengths at a frenzied pace, dippin’ each one in and out. “Upper or lower?”
“Upp-”
Thwack!
“Upper or lower?”
“I don’t…ngh.” Tears glisten in your eyes and even through the blindfold. “Lower—”
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
Higuruma ultimately husks out in a lowered tone, “Focus.” Hips brushing yours so hard that it was starting to sting with unyielding contact. “Get this one wrong, angel…and you’re not cumming a sssingle time tonight.”
You whimper, “P-please…”
But that’s not enough to make him take mercy on you—for Higuruma pushes his rugged tip back out with a drawn-out wet sound. And then he’s making you guess once more-
“Upper or lower?”
You’re furrowing your brows underneath the blindfold. You’re squeezing your thighs even harder around his waist in an attempt to feel him better. Hell, you’re even arching your back off the dampened mattress and giving his pistoning cock a good, long squeeeeze—
Scrambling whatever rationality was left within your brain to try and compare the feeling - the length, the upright curve, the thrumming veins - of this shaft relative to the other.
And the answer finally bestows upon you, “Is this…your upper?”
Then he hones out a thrust so loud it slams!
“Correct.”
And for your prize, you’re getting the blindfold taken off you—and the first thing you see is Higuruma’s flushed, handsome face. The second thing you see is his sudden intrusion: hips drawing even closer to yours, he somehow manages to swipe n’ stuff both aching tips inside your hole.
“Now let’s see if you can focus with both.”
♡ IEIRI SHOKO - Cream XOXO
Hybrid type: Felis catus
“Hmmm…” Dr. Ieiri Shoko removes the ear tips of the stethoscope and lets the medical instrument hang from her neck. The clinic’s faux-leather chair squeaks as she sits back; hands crossing in front of her and pinning you down with her deep, intelligent eyes.
You squirm on the examination table.
Something knowing twinkles in her gaze.
Perhaps due to the fact that you’ve been dropping by Shoko’s clinic every other day at this point—as the newest-hired teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High, it was inevitable that you’d be seeing a few more injuries or a bit more cursed energy exhaustion than someone more experienced like Professor Yaga. But this…this was almost getting ridiculous.
And you knew it, after all.
You were the one going there on purpose.
The first time you saw Ieiri Shoko, it was in your first week as a teacher; you’d gotten cut whilst training one of the students. And though your reverse cursed technique was in perfect condition, it seems that the cursed nature of the weapon made it harder for you to counter the damage - and so you’d wound up in the infirmary after a nasty faint.
Waking up to…an angel.
Or so you’d thought.
Tired eyes. A mole at the corner of her eye.
A cigarette sticking out from the side of her mouth- were those even allowed on campus? And sleek, brown cat ears sticking out from her head.
“That’s one way to be introduced.” She’d droned out in her steady voice.
And after that…day after day, your mind kept thinking back to the cat hybrid. Your mind kept conjuring up all sorts of excuses that might allow you to go down to the clinic after classes—
It would be strange to just show up, right?!
Especially since you didn’t know her that long…and thus came the excuses of a stomach ache, of a headache, of a cut that suspiciously vanished once you actually spoke to her. Must’ve been something jujutsu-related, right?
And she took it all in stride.
Which made you think that Shoko actually didn’t mind your intrusions with some made-up disease and a homemade lunch for the two of you to split.
Thus, you were here today.
Squirming as you buttoned up your uniform - it was a potential heart murmur this time…sometimes you had to get creative you suppose - and wondering how to ask the pretty doctor out for lunch. There was this cute new café that opened up down the street, and they were said to have pretty good beer that-
“I counted your heartbeat, y’know.” Shoko says suddenly, drawing your attention. She looks at you with an unreadable gaze- though not unkind. “It was 102 beats per minute.”
“O-oh…” You wondered how you were going to explain that away—“It must’ve been-”
“Innocent murmurs don’t cause heart beats to raise- and in any case, you don’t have one.” She crosses her arms and takes you in your half-dressed state; legs crossing, tail swishing. “You don’t have to make up excuses to see me, y’know? You can just come by whenever you want.”
Damn those cat hybrids- they were always so alluring without even meaning to be.
Unsure what to say, you’re sure you’re sputtering out some pathetic amalgamation of excuses and assurances that you’ll heed her advice next time—heart racing, body heating up, your hands rushing up to button your blouse to regain some dignity, at least…
“Don’t.”
Only to be stopped by the woman of your dreams herself.
Shoko’s gaze was feline, “I like it like that.”
Less than five minutes later, she has you laid-out on the examination table once more. Hoverin’ in the space between your open legs as laps and laps your drippin’ wet pussy.
Her tongue was so looooong and flexible—swirling a few times over your swollen clit before dipping in and out of your hole. So sloppily; she’s making out with the tender edges of your pussy, lipstick smearing everywhere and anywhere she was reaching.
“O-ohhh…” Your back arches against the cool surface of the examination table. Hands grasping bare air. “It feels so good, Sho, keep going.”
And with something that sounds akin to a sensual chuckle- Shoko reaches out and intertwines her fingers with yours midair. You’re just taking the time to admire the beauty in her fingers—so competent in what she does, and painted in a pale lavender. Everything about her was so pretty…
And just as soon as you do - it’s as if she’s reading your mind.
For one set of her fingers guide your own hands to hold onto her head- your hands smoothing down her long hair, scratching behind her twitching cat ears. And the other set of her fingers are stuffin’ your awaiting pussy—teasing apart your elastic entrance and running her smooth fingertips along her walls. “Stay still now, kitty.”
“H-how—?” That was practically impossible when two of her slender digits were rovering inside. So smooth. So steady. She was easing in your first ring of muscle before mazing in deeeeep. “N-not when it feels this good, ngh.”
“I said stay.” She commands, in a slightly more serious tone. Pulling out and slapping your clit in punishment.
And though you’re whimpering in defiance, you follow her words.
Seeing as you’re listening to her, vibrations start running from your core- it takes you a second to realize that Shoko was purring. Mouth curved. Eyes half-lidded - like the cat that got the cream. As a little apology for the spank from earlier, the cat hybrid leans down and gives an open-mouthed kiss onto your clit.
“Good girl.” She hums. “Patients should stay still until they’re feeling better.”
You sputter, “B-but you said I don’t have a-”
“You don’t.” Shoko affirms. She nods a little bit, and that ends up pressing the tip of her nose against your clit- so sensitive that you’re bucking up into her instantly.
Just as quickly, you’re feeling her cold fingertips pang down once more.
“Now what did I say?” Tutting. Shoko might have been the most laid-back doctor you’ve been to in your entire life—but now you see that all the normal sternness went to her in bed. It went into the way she’s spankin’ your pussy three more times - thwack-thwack-thwack - once you’re not replying fast enough for her.
And you’re just barely hanging on- just barely able to babble out. “Y-you said to stay still- ngh, fuck.”
“Hm, I’d call you a good girl for that—” Smile plastered against your sopping wet lips. “-but we both know that’s not true.”
And then she’s roving her digits into sweet spots you hadn’t even known existed- the doctor knew exactly where to hit. In but a mere few strokes, she’d mapped out your cunt as if she’s been eating you out for yeeeeears—and then attaching herself to your clit and hollowing her cheeks sucking as though she hasn’t had a single proper meal in years.
The stimulation is so much- she’s hooking two fingers into the area of your g-spot and you’re immediately bucking. Only to get Shoko’s glossy tail hooked around one of your ankles and ruthlessly plopping you back down-
You weren’t moving a single inch when she was having her lunch break.
“Might just be the worst patient I’ve ever had-” Catching your eye, she reassures with a slick-glistening smile. “Don’t worry, you’re the only patient I’ve given special treatment to like this.”
“Th-thank goodness.”
Yet another spank. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the worst. Stay fuckin’ still.”
With a whimper, you’re just taking it.
Every push, every throb, every plunge of her expert hands. But you think her favorite part might be how she kept rollin’ her tongue over your plump, puckered clit - pushing aside your bloated folds and just nagging at it as if it was the sweetest candy.
Shoko kept her lips glued to your pussy, and was tugging and draaaaagging your clit with her teeth—until you were basically numb with pleasure. She’s barely coming up for air.
And once that starstruck expression crosses your face, she’s gurgling out a few giggles. “Atta girl.” A single spank- just to keep you on the edge. “Acting good for me now? Maybe you’re all cured.”
“M-maybe…” You still didn’t even know what she was diagnosing you with-
“Lying.” For a second there, you think that Shoko’s just read your mind—and then, belatedly, you’re realizing that you’d just blabbered those words out loud. So much lustful need coiled around your brain that you were just keening-
“I-I only lied to see you-”
Another spank. “And that’s still lying, isn’t it?”
“I guess—oh.” Another two spanks. Harder, this time.
“Wasting a doctor’s time. Taking up precious resources.” In fact, the best part of her day was seeing your gorgeous face- but every stinging word only left you wetter. And mockingly, Shoko’s shaking her head in disapproval and lappin’ even more fervently at the sweetness of your pussy. That tongue of hers…it was indescribable. “I should be kicking you out of my clinic.”
“No!” You gasp. “Anything but that-”
Yet another spank. Lingering, now.
“What was that?”
You sob, “I-I’m not gonna lie again, Dr. Shoko.”
“Good.” She grins, “Now for something to tamper that sexiness of yours.”
And as she’s hiding her smile between your legs- you’re exploding straight into your high. It’s like nothing you’ve ever encountered before—long and drawn-out, the peaks of your orgasm get even stronger every time she hits your favorite spot. Again and again.
Probe after probe.
Like the manicured tops of her fingertips were magnetized to your bundles of nerves.
Calculating between those peaks, she manages to increase the pressure on your pussy right when it hits the most. Dragging you back by her tail and purring as she nibbles on your clit.
“That’s right.” She mutters. “Cum all over the doctor’s face.”
You’re fully wrung out by the time she’s done with you- and Shoko’s ready to move away with a victorious smile. But before she can do so, you reach out and grab onto her white coat—
˖ ࣪૮₍ 𝓙.𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 𓂃 ⭒ gets a pretty nerd to ride him :: college au :: size difference :: cervix stuff :: f. nerd reader
“so the pretty nerd can ride dick, huh?”
smugness dripped from sukuna like his cologne. like that effortless, calloused charm that both infuriated and enraptured you.
the dorm's a mess. a haphazard tangle of his jacket, your shoes, his belt, your panties. the couch springs bounce with your hips. swivelling, spurring. clapping down against his balls in a lewdly wet rhythm. a plaplaplap to accentuate your whorish moans.
“sh-shut— shut up—” you drooled, nails clawing at his broad shoulders as you scrambled on his lap. his thick cock snuggled oh so suffocatingly within your hugging walls. pulsing heavy into your nerves. throbbing just right on a sweetspot. “just shut up 'nd— hah - feel my pussy.”
oh he was feeling it. every sob. every quiver. every pitiful little shimmer of your tears at the corners of your eyes as you dragged your soaking walls all the way to his hot tip— then sunk back down. wedging him so deep. so tight within your clenching gumminess that you're fluttering around him on every bounce.
cute, really. that the nerd's perfect pussy was both so insatiable and oh so pathetic.
“oh I'm feeling her.” clap! he leaned back after his palm thwacked a sting on your ass. a deep groan rumbled as you clenched. already staining him in a creamy ring huh?
“feeling her try to ride a cock too fuckin' big for her.”
he grinned. rough like his hands that roved over your legs, up your thighs and engulfed your waist. he bucked once. twice. rolled his hips in a sinful grind that rutted his pubic bone on your puffy clit. you crumbled into a sob. "there you go, dollface. that's how you take me.”
his sharp tongue licked his lips as he drank in your quivering slit suffocating round his girth. her creamy pearls slicked him messy. he returned the favour by smearing his dripping precum all over your cervix.
one hump. two. until you're struggling to bounce in time with his ramming thrusts. pulling out halfway then stuffing you full until the sting feels warm.
“k-kuna—” you hiccuped, hands clawing at his shoulders as his grip on your waist effortlessly compensated for your messy bounces.
“c'mon doll. where's that smart lil' brain of yours? all mush? dripping out here now?” your slit's tapped with a chuckle. “don't you wanna— ngh, gimme a quick lesson?”
he withdrew. stringy slick strung all over. webbing between your flushed flesh. an open-mouthed kiss harassed you below your jaw. right on your bobbing throat. “tell me. where am I right now?”
you're stuttering. struggling. mouth dropping to answer— before you're broken into a cry and your spine's thrown into an arch as he plunged back in. spraying stickiness all over. your cervix was fucked into quivers and squirms.
“m-my— my— ah!”
“answers, brat.”
sukuna flicked your clit. pinched and pulled as he fucked into that tight ring until your eyes burst into hearts. every grind demanded an answer. "where. am. I?"
“cervix— my cervix!”
you squeaked. then sobbed. his thrusts erupted into a frantic frenzy. squirts spraying. pussy pulsing. squeezing. as he fisted the fat of your ass and shoved you down to the hilt. reminding you just how inexperienced your nerdy self was. too busy stuffing your nose in textbooks than actually being stuffed full of cock.
"atta girl.” another spank to your ass. you're jerked closer. flushed into his smoked scent as he accentuates his cruelty with louder slapping balls on your plush flesh. “and what's this pretty, nerdy pussy gonna do for me? huh?”
with his thumb swirled on your clit. his cock surging up. his lips sucking hickies all over your throat— you shattered. a clenching, creaming mess that floods him messy and bucks so desperately into a cock already stretching you full.
your release spurred a dizzying heat onto him. hot, and heavy, and wet as he snatched your waist and ground you into a filthy hump on every throbbing, thick vein. a large hand squished your face and jerked you in. lips brushing his as he ragged a grunt.
“mm, fuck yeah baby, and what am I gonna do to this pretty pussy?”
when the kamo clan sent you out for the assassination of 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈, you were warned of a few things.
he was incredibly fast, impossibly strong and fought with an intensity that shook the jujutsu world. a hulking, predatory, yet oddly intelligent freak of a man.
but you didn't expect this.
“mm what're they feedin' ya back at that clan? probably not good dick like this, huh?”
that scarred lip pulled back in a grin. you could barely bite back as a filthy grind on your cervix melted away all your curses. the only talking spluttered from your dripping pussy.
“fuck— fushig— hngh!” your thighs are wedged further up the wall, knees pinned beside your tits as his thrusts turn into a feral hammer.
the bastard leans in, grin sharper, eyes darker. “the name's toji, baby, won't you say it for me?”
his cock snapped into your gummy walls as it trying to engrave it's behemoth of a shape within you. a token for you to take back. ‘I didn't take out fushiguro toji but i sure as hell took him.’
“c'mon dollface, sing for me.”
his large palms squeezed on the backs of your knees and his hips committed to a sweltering rhythm. knocking up until your quivering slit took him all the way and cried around his hilt. all while he ground up into that devastating spot. slowly, roughly, until you left a perfect ring of cream around him.
“t-toj— toji,”
he grinned at your voice crack and bent over you. hooking your leg over his muscles shoulder so his forearm could slam beside your head. “there you go. sing it for me.”
before his wet slaps assaulted your clenching cunt until all you could was pitifully sob and dig your nails down his back. arch into the man you're supposed to be gutting.
but here he is. rearranging in your guts and husking to your ear all smug.
“think you're better suited for this. think you'd make a better whore than assassin, yeah? pretty pussy sure says so.”
When your Suguru had told you he wanted to show you a secluded beach nearby the village where he grew up, you didn’t expect to end up stuffed full of his cock in broad daylight!
“Su — Sugu, someone could see us.” You whined, burying your face in your arms in an attempt to hide your shame. Suguru laughed softly behind you, hips drilling into you and creating lewd smacks that seemed to echo the empty beach.
“Sweetheart, I told you, nobody ever comes here. It’s too far out in the country,” he leaned down, nibbling on your earlobe eliciting another soft whine from you. “I know that, but what if — oh shit, slow down — what if a-a local comes?” You reasoned, craning your head to meet his eyes.
Suguru’s hips slowed for a second, gazing around as if he was contemplating if you were right. Then all too casually, “Nah, we can make this quick, right, sweet girl?”
A moan escaped you when he pushed himself to the hilt once more, one large hand coming up to tangle in your hair and yank your head back. “Come on, let me hear you.”
His long hair shifted with each thrust, falling around to curtain your head.
“So pretty like this, what’re you going to do if someone walks past, hm? They’ll see you taking me like the good girl you are.” His voice is like honey, sweet and silky in your ear. You whimpered in response, squeezing your eyes shut as he continued to slam his hips into your ass.
Suguru moved his hair to one side and released his grip on your hair, bringing his arm up to your neck, locking you in a chokehold. You squealed as he flexed his bicep, your nails dug into the muscle to try and ground yourself.
You could feel every vein of his dick rubbing along your walls, notching that sweet spot so deep inside. He was letting out soft groans of his own in your ear, occasionally whimpering ever so slightly when you squeezed his length.
Your body felt as if it were on fire, the sweltering heat caused his skin to stick to yours every time his hips made contact with your ass. From this angle you could see how tan he had gotten on his arms, and feel just how big he was.
“You feel so good,” he purred into your ear before licking a lewd strip up the side of your neck. You could only moan in response, mind going blank as you felt your high approaching.
Suguru began to fuck into you harder, pressing his fat tip against your sweet spot over and over until you were sobbing into his arm. “Oh fuck — Sugu, please, I’m gonna cum,” you whined, lips attaching to his bicep as you tried to ground yourself.
“Yeah? Ah fuck, bite my bicep, baby. Do it and I’ll let you cum.”
You sunk your teeth into his flesh, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to make him grunt and for his rhythm to stutter.
Your slick and his pre coated his length, obscene squelch’s coukd be heard with every thrust. The coil wound tighter in your stomach and you felt your cunt practically pulse as you came around his dick.
The way your pussy convulsed had Suguru hurled into his own orgasm. He moaned languidly, pulling out quickly and allowing white ropes to fall on your ass.
Both of your chests heaved as the two of you came down from your highs. Suguru scooped up some of his come from your ass and held his fingers to your mouth. “It’s like ice cream,” he giggled as you suckled on his digits before doing the same for himself, but this time with your slick.
Before you could even think of an insult a loud shout could be heard from someone in bright yellow.
“Hey! No nudity on the beach!”
a/n: I JUST MADE SOME BSSS (written in like 5 minutes barely any coherent thought applied)
andulkaphoto
areudirty
