temporary fix - suguru geto
summary: geto - your enemy - somehow gets tangled in your sheets to relieve some tension
warning: nsfw!, 18+, smut, arguing, badboy!geto, friends with benefits, enemies with benefits, cursing, unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, cunnilingus
you’re not sure how it starts.
it’s just another day—another endless exchange of sharp words and sarcastic remarks between you and geto. it’s almost familiar now. both of you are so damn stubborn, so intent on being right, that neither can let go of the issue at hand—even though, deep down, you both know it doesn’t matter.
but that’s not the point. it’s never the point. it’s the principle of it.
you’re masters of fighting for the sake of fighting, of creating tension where there is none, of pushing and pulling until something gives. and today, like every other day, neither of you is willing to back down.
your voice rises, sharper than you intend, words tumbling out like daggers. he fires back just as quickly, his tone cutting through the air between you. and then, before you can take another breath to argue your next point, he cuts you off.
“you’re fucking infuriating, he mutters, his voice low and sharp, the words hitting harder than they should.
you barely have time to process them before he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. his grip isn’t harsh, but it’s firm, commanding in a way that leaves you momentarily stunned.
you should step back. should tell him to fuck off and storm out like you always do. but for some reason, you don’t. maybe it’s the frustration that’s piled up, or the way he’s looking at you—like he’s studying you. either way, you don’t move. you stand there, caught in the storm that you both created, waiting to see what happens next.
then, without warning, his lips crash onto yours.
you freeze for a second, every part of your body screaming at you to pull away, to stop, to remember exactly who he is—your enemy. but the taste of him, the warmth that spreads through you as he deepens the kiss, erases every rational thought.
and then he kisses you again.
it’s not soft or sweet. there’s no tenderness, no hesitation. it’s rough, almost punishing, as if he’s trying to silence you in the most primal way imaginable.
your hands move on their own, fingers twisting into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. there’s no room for argument anymore, no space for words.
geto’s hands grip your waist, and you stumble backward further into your apartment.you’re both moving on instinct now, each step carrying you closer to the inevitable.
his hands are impatient, tugging at your shirt, and you barely have a chance to protest before it’s pulled over your head and tossed to the floor. the cool air hits your skin, but it’s quickly replaced by the heat of him as his lips find yours again. his kiss is consuming, his fingers roaming over every inch of bare skin they can reach.
he pushes you toward the bed, the backs of your knees hitting the edge as you fall onto the mattress. there’s a moment where his eyes meet yours, dark and full of an emotion you’ve never seen on him before. then, he’s on you again, his hands sliding up your sides as he works to shed the last of your clothes.
your own hands are just as greedy, fumbling with his shirt, desperate to feel more. his patience seems to snap, and he shrugs it off in one fluid motion, leaving it to join the growing pile of clothes on the floor.
you’re bare now, exposed beneath him, and yet, there’s no time to feel self-conscious. his mouth is everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, the sensitive skin just below your ear.
geto's lips find yours again. it’s a clash of teeth and tongues, a desperate attempt to claim and consume. his weight presses you into the mattress, and your hands roam across his broad back, nails digging in just enough to leave a mark.
he pulls back for a moment, he smirks– the kind of cocky, infuriating smirk that makes your blood boil even now.
“i like you better when you’re not yelling at me” he murmurs, his voice low and dripping with amusement.
"shut up" you say breathlessly. he chuckles softly with that same maddening arrogance that got you here in the first place.
you grab the back of his neck and pull him back down to you, your lips crashing together in a kiss so heated it leaves no room for his smug remarks.
geto knows what he’s doing, and it shows in the confident way his hands explore your body. his skilled fingers trace over your skin as they make their way down to your core. he savors the way you shiver under his touch, the small, involuntary sounds that escape your lips.
when his fingers finally find your core, you gasp. he starts slow– exploring and teasing you. the pads of his fingers glide through your folds, gathering your slick before circling your clit with just enough pressure to make your back arch off the bed.
“you’re already so wet for me” he murmurs against your skin, his tone low and teasing. “did fighting turn you on that much?”. you glare at him. it’s half-hearted, your breath catching as he presses against a little more, his fingers sliding against your slick in a way that makes your head spin.
“f-fuck you” you bite out, your voice trembling. his laugh is infuriatingly smug as his lips brush over your jaw. you want to retort, to snap at him, but the way his fingers circle your clit has every coherent thought slipping through your grasp. instead, your nails dig into his shoulders, your body arching closer to him as he keeps up his steady rhythm, reading every gasp, every shiver, like he knows your body better than you do.
geto’s lips trail down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he sucks lightly, leaving a mark on your sweet spot. his name falls from your lips, soft and breathy, the first time he’s heard it without a hint of venom.
he doesn’t say anything, letting his actions speak instead as he kisses his way lower. his lips trace the curve of your collarbone, down the center of your chest, and further still until they replace his fingers. the first stroke of his tongue against you makes you yelp.
“you’re so tight” he hums against your skin. your body clenches around him instinctively, and he groans softly, the sound sending heat pooling in your stomach.
“geto”. voice shaky and almost pleading as he works you with an infuriatingly perfect rhythm. his long fingers don’t falter, curling inside you in a way that leaves you trembling. “just like that” he murmurs, his voice husky, his breath warm against your skin. “i’ve got you, don’t i?”. and the worst part is, he’s right.
your breaths quicken, your body arching into him as the tension inside you coils tighter and tighter. he’s relentless, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync until you can’t hold back anymore. your legs tense, squeezing around his head, and your body shudders as you cum, a sharp cry escaping your lips.
geto doesn’t stop—not until you’re trembling for him. even then, he lingers for a moment, savoring the way you taste and the way you writhe under his touch. when he finally lifts his head, his chin glistening with your arousal, he doesn’t waste a moment. his hand drops to his own length, pumping himself a few times before guiding the head of his cock to your core. you let out a shaky breath, still sensitive from moments ago.
“please” you whimper. that’s all he needs. without hesitation, he pushes past your walls, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he buries himself inside you. the stretch is overwhelming, your body accommodating him in a way that feels both foreign and perfectly right.
“f-fuck” he mutters under his breath, his hands gripping your hips and watching as his length disappears between your legs. his hips roll against yours slowly to get you used to his size.
geto watches your face, dark eyes drinking in every expression and every sound you make. you reach out absentmindedly to rub your hand against his abs as he starts to rut into you.
“s-shit” you curse as he fills you over and over again, each thrust feeling deeper and harder than the last. your eyes flutter as you moan his name.
his head dips, his breath hot against your ear. his hand holds your thigh, opening you up further. you shriek as his tip hits a spot deep inside you you’ve never been able to reach. he can feel himself hitting your gummy walls. “you feel so good” he murmurs.
your nails rake down his back, leaving red trails in their wake, and he hisses at the sting, his hips snapping harder in retaliation. your gasps and his groans fill the room as you tighten around him. his thumb finds your clit, circling it with the same practiced ease as before. you choke out a moan, your grip on his back tightening.
“c'mon” he urges. let go for me”. you don’t think it’s possible to hold back even if you wanted to. your body trembles, your walls clenching around him as the pleasure crashes over you. geto groans, the sensation pulling him over the edge with you.
his hips stutter, his movements becoming erratic as he buries himself deep inside you one final time before releasing on your stomach with a guttural moan.
geto collapses beside you, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. you both lay there, neither of you speaking.you try to slow your breathing, but it’s hard—his touch lingers in every part of you, making it feel like the world is still spinning.
“shit…” geto mutters under his breath, running a hand through his disheveled hair, his voice raspy and low.
“do you always solve your problems like this?” you ask, still shaken by the intensity of it all. geto’s smirk is dangerous.
and so it begins.
in the days that follow, arguments turn into something else. something unspoken, but understood between you.
every clash of egos and bit of tension you can’t handle, you find yourselves drawn together like magnets. each encounter becomes a release—the perfect way to blow off steam, to erase the pressure that builds with every passing day.
you fight, exchange cruel words, hurl insults, and then—like clockwork—end up in each other’s arms, using each other like a weapon, an outlet for your frustration. that’s all it is.
it isn’t love. it isn’t tenderness. it’s just a raw, explosive release.
each time, it gets easier. the lines between you blur, shifting in a way that leaves you both in a strange limbo. you’re no longer enemies. you’re not friends. but you’ve become something in between.
you begin to anticipate it— can’t help but crave it. it doesn’t matter where or when. when the tension builds too high, when the words become too much to bear, there’s always a kiss waiting to quiet it all, to drown out everything else.
geto doesn’t speak of it. neither do you. it’s a pattern now, something you’ve both come to rely on. neither of you wants to be the first to break the silence, to give it a name, to admit it for what it really is. so, you keep going—getting lost in each other, in the chaos you’ve created.
it’s a dangerous game you’re playing. but in the heat of the moment, with your bodies tangled and your breaths quick and ragged, it doesn’t matter.
tomorrow, you’ll be enemies again. but right now–you’re something else entirely.
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a/n: thank you for reading!! this is the first part of my new series. i hope you enjoyed :) please lmk if you want to be on the taglist <3