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"you're doing so well, doll."
suguru's voice is low and warm behind the camera, the tripod catching every twitch of your body as you lie back on the sheets.
the vibrator hums against your clit, pressed tight, and your hips jerk up at the sudden intensity. your back arches, thighs spreading wider as the toy buzzes harder, sending sparks racing through your nerves.
he stands at the foot of the bed, one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking his length slow and steady while the lens records the way your pussy glistens.
"fuck, look at you," he mutters, voice thick with arousal. "so pretty when you moan for me. keep going, baby. show me how good it feels."
you whimper his name, pressing the vibrator down harder, the wet sounds of your cunt filling the room. your free hand grips the sheets, knuckles white, as your hips roll up to chase the pressure.
suguru's breathing grows heavier, his strokes matching the rhythm of your moans. "that's it, doll. just like that. you're perfect, sweetie—fuck, look at your pussy dripping, mm, you're enjoying this, aren't you?"
you whine, a small 'yes' escaping your lips as your back lifts completely off the mattress when the toy hits the right spot, thighs trembling as you messily grind against it.
suguru groans, pumping his cock faster, the head slick and flushed. "god, you're so fucking hot. don't stop—i wanna see you cum for me."
"mm...s-sugu!" you moan, the vibrator buzzing relentlessly against your swollen red clit. your walls clench around nothing, slick dripping down onto the sheets as you feel your orgasm approaching. suguru's voice starts wavering, lost in the pleasure of his own ministrations. "fuuckk, good girl. you're doing so well. cum for me, baby—let me film it all."
your body goes rigid as your lips fall in an open-mouthed scream when your orgasm finally crashes over you, back arching high and thighs shaking while the vibrator stays pressed tight to your swollen nub.
"hahhhh! fuck! mm, sugu..." your moans break into sobs of pleasure, pussy pulsing visibly as you soak the toy and the sheets beneath you.
suguru curses under his breath, stroking faster until he spills over his fist, thick ropes of cum landing on the bedspread and your thigh while the camera keeps rolling, capturing every second it.
he steps closer once you both catch your breath, lowering the camera with a satisfied smile. "best model i've ever had," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
the footage is already saved—and there's no doubt that he's gonna use it for later.
these men will send you straight to pound town– no buts, no warnings, no room to escape. they can slow down only if you beg them to, but they'd rather not. they'll be rough, clapping your ass with no mercy.
toji is the type to fuck you in the air, by leaning you on the wall, or just by literally standing anywhere.
he is not one for patience or gentle switching of positions and prefers to take you where you are, turning any ordinary space into his playground. whether he pins you against the wall, hoists you up mid-air, or simply positions himself wherever you happen to be, he takes control of the entire space with absolute ease.
he favors it the most when you're completely lifted up by the ass, cradling your weight as if you weigh nothing at all. with this position, he has complete leeway and leniency to unleash every ounce of his raw speed and unrelenting roughness. not to mention, he has terrifying and inhuman core strength and stamina, he can fuck you for hours on end without a single sign of fatigue. his arms and legs never tremble, pounding away until you are thoroughly breathless and aching.
he loves it when you're held in his arms, he feels that it strips away all your defenses. loving the sheer helplessness of your face, watching you turn into a drooling mess, clinging desperately to his neck. with a bruising, vice-like grip, he'd hold onto your bare ass cheeks, dictating every single rhythm, bucking his hips upward to meet you, aggressively guiding your body down onto his length, leaving you entirely at the mercy of his relentless pace and control.
where would he cum? inside you.
sukuna is really aggressive, the type to push your head down on the mattress until you're fucked dumb.
sukuna has a fixation on pounding you from behind, revealing an unapologetic obsession with your body from that angle. seeing your bare back, your ass dribbling below his own bare skin, your pathetic side profile coming to glance at him from down below as he keeps up with the constant pace. to him, your bare back is nothing less than an untouched canvas waiting to be aggressively claimed and slowly ruined with evidence of his dominance. the moment his eyes traces the protruding line of your shoulder blades and the vulnerable expanse of skin beneath them unmarked and blank, it acts as an immediate trigger. you'll instantly feel his sharp teeth sinking deep into your flesh, biting and sucking harshly while his hips hammer into you.
and of course, his backshots aren't complete without ensuring either your face is roughly shoved down into the mattress or a handful of your hair is clenched in his fist, yanking your head back until you are forced to meet his predatory eyes. looking down into your glossy gaze while he buries himself deep inside you pushes him straight to the edge of berserk, completely intoxicated by the sight of your total submission and your silent willingness to let him tear your hole apart.
where would he cum? on your lower back or across your spine.
naoya makes you ride him first like the petty piece of shit he is, but when it's his turn to move– expect that you won't be able to get the slightest inaudible sound out of your mouth.
he absolutely relishes at the sight of you riding him, wearing that infuriating, dumb smirk as your movements grow increasingly shaky and unstable from pumping yourself up and down on his length. he waits, a calculated precinct where you finally settle above him, utterly exhausted and panting, lured into a false sense of security where you expect no sudden movements. he waits and waits until he sees you won't even have any leverage or strength left to stop him. that precise moment of vulnerability is when he strikes, violently driving his knees up and thrusting heavily from underneath to catch you entirely off guard.
it extends more into humiliation, spreading your bare ass cheeks apart as he plows into you from below. every soft, broken cry you whimper directly into his ear is what conducts his persistent pace, driving him completely feral as he slams upward against you with intense and unrefined force.
where would he cum? inside you.
slow to fast: gojo, higuruma
these two love building up the pace, starting up slow before going full on speed and fucking you rough almost at the same pace as the guys above. though they go on a much average speed, the mixed pace is what keeps you wanting for more.
gojo is another piece of shit that loves one-upping you in the most unexpected times. going from slow to fast just to see the change of cadence on your moans.
he easily unravels the moment you make a sound, completely losing his composure to the sweet sound of your voice as you tighten around him. you could feel him growing noticeably fuller inside you against the dullness and laziness of his initial pace. over time, whatever conscious restraint or fragile promise he made to be gentle shatters entirely. one single glimpse on your flushed and fucked out face is all it takes for him to completely abandon the torturing and agonizing pace all at once.
he's convinced that he's the one in control, playing a cruel game of sweet torture by keeping his movements deliberately slow. but in reality, he's the one being sent over the edge, the quiet and steady momentum eventually makes him lose his patience, turning him demanding and desperate for faster and hard pounding.
where would he cum? on your face.
higuruma basically just loves to play with the pace, building up the tension, allowing your juices to spread more across his length before making the sloshy sounds of your wetness a part of his increasing speed's harmony.
what always starts as a lazy, rolling rhythm later becomes an unforgiving speed. his grip on your waist tightens and his hips plunge forward harsher. the gentle, slipping friction sharpens into a hard, bashing force, burying the sound of his ragged breaths against your neck with loud and sharp smacks of his skin onto yours.
he starts slow, tall with his back rigidly straight, but the moment he leans his weight forward, pressing his chest against yours– everything changes. his hand tangles in your hair to force your head lower, using total leverage to drive you down and swallow every inch of his length as he hammers relentlessly from above.
where would he cum? on your stomach.
slow and steady: nanami, choso
what else do i have to say other than they know a woman's body and could actually make you orgasm through penetration? though it happens rarely without clitoral stimulation, they both know how to keep the pace constant until you're creaming around them.
nanami loves to fuck you slow in missionary, allowing you to bask in his slow movements and melt into his affectionate and heated touch.
he's a romantic. approaching intimacy with a quiet reverence, preferring a slow, measured pace that allows you to be intimately aware of every single inch of his cock gliding along the crevices of your walls. he believes that keeping his thrusts slow allows you to feel the totality of his touch, the way his lips gently press against yours, the tender way his hands caress and shape your waist, and the steady roll of his hips moving above you.
he's deeply vocal, entirely captivated by how you look beneath him. he will pause to brush the stray, sweat-dampened hairs clinging onto your flushed face, carefully tucking them behind your ear before pressing a tender kiss on your forehead. he is the kind of man to murmur quiet, grounding professions of love directly against your skin, whispering those three words in the middle of it all as he holds you close.
where would he cum? your choice.
choso loves fucking you slow on the side, spooning you, and wrapping his arms around you while he slowly moves behind you.
he loves the absolute surrender it gives you in this position, your back pressed firmly against his broad chest, your body cradled by his as he glides in and out of you with a steady pace. his arms would wrap entirely around your waist, pulling you as tight and closely possible while his hands roam over your breasts, fondling and teasing your nipples while his lips press hot and wet kisses, nibbling and licking at your earlobe. he thrives on how completely trapped and overwhelmed you are in his embrace, leaving you with nowhere else to put your hands on, except to reach blindly behind you, tangling your fingers in his hair or digging your nails into his forearm as helpless moans spill from your lips.
to break the quiet monotony of his steady pace, he would occasionally slide his hand down between you, licking and spitting over his fingers before pressing them heavily against your clit, working his fingers in slow circles right as his hips push deeper into you, driving you to the edge while keeping you securely locked in his arms.
where would he cum? on your inner thighs.
full withdrawal thrusting: geto
he loves doing this shit, pulling everything out completely before plunging it inside of you back again. he thrusts in a mixed pace, just as long as he could pause for awhile and let you feel the sudden emptiness.
geto loves watching how his cock completely disappears into your hole, eyes fixated down below as he rests one of your legs on his shoulders.
he loves the absolute exposure of your body sprawled out beneath him, legs thrown wide apart with your cunt glistening slick and wet. he loves seeing you panting and sighing sweetly. the two of you share the obscene view of him sliding in and out of your hole. his mouth parts slightly, hot, heavy breaths washing over your skin as he stares unblinkingly at the way his thick length buries itself deep inside your walls.
every sharp gasp you let out when he bottoms out brings a new kind of cruelty to his expression, especially when your teeth slip away from the bruised, reddened skin of your lower lip where you had been biting down on. seeing your face contort and scrunch into that dizzying look of pure bliss only pushes him to do it over and over again.
synopsis . How they get caught jerking off to you/How they jerk off to you. pairings (separate) . Toji Fushiguro x f!reader, Geto Suguru x f!reader, Gojo Satoru x f!reader, & Nanami Kento x f!reader
content . afab!reader, masturbation, perversion, praise, needy men, phone sex, filth, dirty talk, non-curse au, talking him through it, degrading, implied perv x perv, established relationships, boss x assistant (nanami), getting caught (duh), etc.
word count . 5.6k || author's note: this is a slightly revised repost from kamitv, so if it looks familiar (and the writing is lowk ahh), that's why! banner art from “Ikyouto Kouryuukai” <3
☆ Toji Fushiguro
He’s the kinda guy that you could never be on the phone with past midnight. Why? Cause’ suddenly his voice is getting deeper, his comments are growing more suggestive, and he’s got a hand wrapped around his cock as he gets off to the sound of your voice.
What you're rambling on about? He’s got no idea. All he knows is that your soft tone—laced with such a faint sleepiness to it—has his cock aching within his hand.
You don't even notice he’s getting off to you until the big idiot groans out your name like he wanted to get caught in the first place.
The sound naturally makes your entire body freeze and all you can do is stare at your phone, tipping your head to the side curiously before you tap at your screen to bring the ongoing call to the forefront of it.
You’d get quiet and he’d get louder, grunting out an all too husky, “Fuck,” that has you smiling to yourself a little. It was in times like this that you felt your ego growing in size.
Especially as you hear him grunting like he were trying to keep his sounds in.
But, your moment of confidence only lasts until the deep baritone of his voice snaps you out of it, “Keep talkin’, doll,” Toji orders.
There’s the faintest hint of need in his voice that has you biting your lower lip to hold back the toothy smile trying to present itself on your face. Gulping, “Toji…” You murmur, catching the way he sighs heavily in initial response.
On his end, he’s got his legs sprawled out, the fat heat of his dick squeezed in between his palm, and thick wads of sweat built up along his forehead. He'd been at it for a minute before you'd caught on.
Toji tosses his head tosses back at the sound of you calling his name. Huffing, “What?” as if what he’s doing hasn’t become rather obvious to you.
Your voice is suddenly closer to the phone and it makes him grunt, “You okay over there? You sound… busy,” You utter teasingly.
“Mmmh… mhm, m’fine, jus’-, hahh, keep… keep talkin’,” His long pauses and heavy exhales were making you squirm on your end. You could only imagine how he looked right now—that big hand of his wrapped around his poor, leaky cock as he gave himself quick tugs to the sound of your voice.
You start to shift around in your bed and almost forget to respond as you listen closely. Turning your volume up, you could hear just about everything. The sounds became vivid, a messy noise of spit heard as Toji wets his cock up in ways he’s known you to do for him, his hand slicks up 'n down his length in quicker pulls due to the saliva and precum mixing together.
“Hahhh, fuck,” Toji pants shortly, forcing himself to slow his hand down just so he can speak properly, “Why’d you stop? Hm?”
“I uh… I thought I heard something, sorry,” You hum as you fake cluelessness. “Anywho, what was I saying again? Do you remember?”
Ah, you’d decided to test him thinking he wasn’t paying attention at all to what you were discussing earlier. Jokes on you, Toji knows how to multitask. “Uh, you were tellin’ me about your day or somethin’,” He hums casually.
“Riiiight,” You chuckle. An idea pops into your mind and you decide to use his lack of full attention to what you were previously discussing to your advantage, “Well, me and my friends went to this new sweet spot today.”
“Yeah? And what else, doll?” Toji sounded so clearly occupied but he was trying his best to just get you to keep talking. Every word that left your lips went straight to his cock.
You grin, “Well, it was pretty hot today but I got lucky since they had popsicles! The one I got was suuper big, could’ hardly fit it in my mouth,” You explain.
Was this story true? Not exactly, but when else do you get the opportunity to tease your boyfriend like this?
Toji’s eyes flicker as he processes what the hell you just said to him, his cock twitching at the thought of your lips parting to take something large into your mouth. You knew what you were doing to him and he was starting to pick up on it.
Swallowing thickly, Toji hums, “Oh yeah? Reminds me of a couple of other things that can’t really fit in your mouth…”
“Hm? Like what, Toji?” You murmur innocently.
Your voice had softened by a lot and was driving him insane. That clearly false innocence wrapped itself into your question and it had the man picturing your expression. The way you’re probably sitting there with your eyes all wide and curious, batting those pretty lashes of yours like you don’t know what you were even asking him.
Scoffing, “Don’t play dumb, y’know what the hell m’talkin’ about.” Toji drawls out, voice a bit rougher with you.
You ignore his little attitude and let out a giggle, “Do I?”
“Yeah, you do,” Your boyfriend huffs. His breathing is noticeably heavier and little did you know, he had his head resting back and his eyes on the ceiling as he fisted his cock rapidly, slick sounds masked by his voice every time he spoke.
As if to make his state worse, your voice dips into something all the more sultry, “I’m really not sure Toji… What else is too big to fit in my mouth? Tell me.”
“Fuck-,” Toji lets out a slight gasp, his breath stuttering for a moment before he grunts, “My cock, baby. Y’know this.”
The way he gave up on getting you to say it first has you smiling, “Mmmh, I dunno Toji,” God you were saying his name too much and it was making his balls ache, “I had your cock down my throat perfectly fine the other day if I recall correctly.”
“Filthy fuckin’ girl,” Toji abruptly rasps out, making you gulp as you felt a throb in your core, “Where’d y’learn to talk like that, huh?”
You snicker, “From my boyfriend who enjoys jerking off to the sound of my voice.”
And just like that, Toji can feel his orgasm approaching—damn you and your slick remarks, you only ever acted like this over the phone. You knew better in person but, he'd let it slide for now.
“Hahh, fuck you,” Toji fires back.
“You want to right now, don’t you?” You were getting confident all of a sudden and he groans before shutting his mouth just to listen to you speak. “Wanna feel my tongue on your cock, huh?”
His hand squeezes onto his cock and a strangled grunt leaves the back of his throat, “Shit-,” Toji’s haw drops a little, “Don’t stop talkin’, m’close.”
“Yeah? Gonna cum thinking about fuckin’ my throat, right?” You murmur.
And he definitely was, it’s all he could think about right now. Especially with how bold you were being. How could he not picture you on your knees, taking his cock into your mouth all sloppily whilst he fucks that gorgeous face of yours just to teach you a lesson about talking to him like this?
Then you just kept going, “…Or just from me talking? Do you like my voice that much, Toji?” You ask.
He’s on his end just nodding as as if you could see him. What an idiot. “Yes, shit… You know I fuckin’ love your voice, baby,” Toji tells you.
God you wish you could see him right now. You just know he’s sweating, his tip all flushed over 'n drooling from your every word, large thighs trembling as he gets closer and closer to making one stupid mess of himself.
“C’mon then big guy, cum for me so you can come over,” You purr.
Just then Toji has to squeeze his eyes shut and he almost chokes. “It's late, doll,” He argues.
You tut, “Yeah well listening to you jerk off turned me on, so now you’ve gotta come over and deal with it.”
Some nerve you had. As if you wouldn’t be the one all teary eyed and pouty after a few kisses from him…
Yet, Toji’s not thinking about that right now, mindlessly agreeing just because he needs you and his hand is starting not to cut it anymore, “Hahhh, alright-, shit. Whatever the fuck you want. I’ll be over in ten.”
You snicker, “Make it five.”
He swears you’ll be the death of him.
Scoffing, “Needy ass girl… agh… can’t wait ten minutes?”
“You couldn’t wait til’ I got off the phone to jerk off?” You argue.
He’s smirking despite the slight irritation that creeps up on him due to how bratty you were being, “…Shut up.”
You smile, “Come shut me up.”
“Oh I’m about to.”
☆ Geto Suguru
Moaning your name as if that’ll cause your hand to be wrapped around his cock instead of your panties—Suguru uses your clothes to get off when you’re not around.
He doesn’t bother to call you or text you. It’s usually late when he gets like this, so he just settles for the lace panties you “accidentally” left over at his place.
Sometimes he’s got the fabric wrapped around his cock as he jerks off, other times he’s got it pressed up to his nose inhaling what little of your scent he could get as his hips fuck into the little O-shape he’s created with his hand. If he inhales strong enough, he swears he can still smell your pussy and that alone makes his eyes roll to the back of his head.
“Fuuuck,” Geto moans unashamed into the air. What’s he gotta hold his voice back for? Even if you were to ever catch him like this, he knows you’re just as much of a perv as he is.
His hand is set nice ‘n sturdy around his deft base as he drags your lack up and down his slobbered skin. Just thinking about how the fabric clung to your cunt for hours and hours on end has his cock dripping pre onto the floor.
“Fuckin’ miss you, agh,” Suguru would groan thoughtlessly, recalling the last time he had your pussy on his tongue—relishing in the distant memory of how sweet how tasted and how addicting you are.
Within said imagination, he doesn’t even realize he’s moving your panties to his mouth, his tongue seeping out and pressing into the fabric as if that’ll give him a taste of you again. Is it the same as sucking on your cunt til’ your legs are shaking? No, of course not. Does it make Geto’s hand milk his cock for all it’s worth? Well, yes.
Light and faint whines slip past his lips, “Ha-ahh… taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Geto groans like you’re right there with him.
Shit, he wants you on his tongue again. He can never get enough of it—the way your pussy sloshes all over his mouth every time he eats you out, how you whine his name and beg him for a break, or even the way you get greedy as your orgasm nears and you start bucking your hips against him.
Either way, it’s all he can think about right now. And it doesn’t get any better when his eyes open and looks down at himself, your panties clung tightly in between his teeth as he envisions you below him with a mouth wide and ready for him.
Oh, the way you always take his cock down your throat never fails to make his eyes cross. You’d suck on him like your life depended on it, moaning against his shaft whenever he started thrusting into your mouth or whining when he forces your head down some more.
And he’s so close as he thinks about it more—picturing your wet lips parted around his flushed tip, drool slipping out the corner of your mouth, and your tongue slipping against him languidly-
“Suguru?” The sudden sound of your voice makes him moan in surprise before he’s turning his head to look at you.
Even caught in the act, he only gets turned on even more. His brows tense and he pants heavily as his eyes meet yours, quickly noticing the way your gaze dropped down to his achingly hard cock.
You were supposed to be asleep out on his living room couch where he’d left you moments ago yet, here you were—standing with your eyes all wide and curious, taking careful steps toward the man as you cross your arms, and giving him this look that drives him crazy.
You gulp loudly as you look up to your boyfriend’s face, “Are those my panties in your mouth?”
“M-Mmhm,” Geto hums with an impatient nod of his head.
Your lashes bat at the man before you find yourself standing right in front of him, placing but a single hand on his chest before taking the other and removing the lace from the man’s mouth.
“That’s filthy, Sugu,” You whisper carefully.
The way his lips part and how his eyes lower on you, a groan slipping from him due to how close your body was and the way you’d touched him so softly. “Uhuh, I know, baby,” His voice has the faintest shake to it as he mumbles out an answer.
Smiling slightly, you keep your eyes directly up on his despite his hand not stopping on his cock for even a second, “You could’ve woken me up if you needed me.” You utter.
He cracks a lazy grin for a moment, “I just needed your panties.”
You frown and your brows tense a bit, “…Pervert.” You whisper, watching how his body twitches in reaction before he’s leaning his face down and closer to yours.
“Mhm,” Geto hums, “Yeahhh, that’s me, princess. Keep telling me how fuckin’ nasty I am.” Your boyfriend purrs, earning a wide eyed look from you as you gaze up at him in surprise.
You comply, trailing a single finger down along his chest as you tip your head to the side and speak, “You’re filthy Sugu, gettin’ off with my panties… Bet you wanted to get caught like this too.”
“Maybe,” Geto tells you with that awfully cocky grin on his face, “But you’re not any better. I caught you fingering yourself to my voice last week.”
You gulp, “T-That was…”
He’s leaning down past your face and you flinch as his lips make sudden contact with your neck, “Different, huh?” He rasps out, hot breath tickling the side of your neck.
Tense, your hand stops moving along his body and you angle yourself to look down at how aggressively he’s fisting his cock right now, “Yeah…” You murmur, completely distracted by the sight below you.
His hand got faster on his cock, quicker tugs made the longer you stared down at him, and cum leaking from his tip as he grunted against your neck.
“Sure it was,” Geto whispers, his voice a lot lighter than you expected it to be. “Now, are you gonna just stand here and watch me jerk off or are you gonna get on your knees and take care of me?” He asks, lifting his face a little to kiss the space below your ear.
You unconsciously lick your lips the longer you stare down at his cock, watching him drip onto the floor and make the slightest mess before you scoff, “That’s no way to ask, Sugu.”
He huffs against you but you don’t miss the quietest whine leaving his throat before he speaks, “Funny cause I wasn’t fuckin’ askin’.”
“Oh?” You snicker at your boyfriend before turning your head to meet his gaze, “You’re mean when you get caught in the act…”
He stares you down and resists every neuron in his body that’s telling him to press his lips into yours, “Am I?”
“Mhm, as if you’re not embarrassed,” You tease. God you were driving him crazy—looking at him so longingly, your lips nearly on his, your body warm with how close you were to him, and your hand set low near his cock.
Fuck, one more touch from you and he’d be cumming in seconds. “I’m not.” Geto replies to you.
You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second and his gaze drops, “You sure? Y’know how long I was watching you before I said something?”
“Fuck, how long baby?” He practically mumbles. He needed your touch sooooo badly. If anything, you were too close to not be all over him right now, and it’s simply unfair how his restraint was waning by the second.
“A few minutes. I saw you putting my panties to your nose and everything,” As you speak, your hands are lifting and his eyes are widening.
Your arms wrap around his neck and he’s forced to stop his hand on his cock before he blows his load too soon, “Yeah?” He breathes.
You nod and inch closer, “Mhm.”
“Bet that got you all hot ‘nd bothered, huh?” Geto whispers, cocking his head to the side before placing a hand to your waist and holding you tenderly, “That’s why you said something, right? Cause you like watching me like this? You like seeing me slut myself out to the thought of you.”
Your eyes were on his lips now and you’d half-heard everything he just said, shrugging out a little, “Maybe…” In response before your lips are finally on his.
Geto can’t even control the groan that pours out of him while his lips move over yours, tongue slotting into your mouth and hand squeezing onto your waist as if to tell you not to move.
The kiss doesn’t even last that long before he’s letting out a whine as his cockhead brushes against your body, “Fuck-, enough of this teasin’, I need you princess.”
☆ Gojo Satoru
You were going to take it upon yourself to ask your husband how he jerks off when you’re not around, but instead of answering your text with an explanation like a normal person—he sends you a video.
Unfiltered, less than a second after clicking on the video, you’re met with his glistening cock on your screen. Slicked with spit and precum trailing along his veins and a pretty pinkish tip twitching for some attention—you’re left to stare at the bright flash from his cellphone giving you the perfect view of his lower half.
You’d be lying if you said you didn’t squeeze your legs together as soon as you started the video. Then there’s his voice that you hear about five seconds in.
“Wanted to see how I jerk off, huh? Dirty girl,” His tone was low with you, the sound filling your ears as you bat your lashes and swallow thickly. Thank god for your headphones—despite being home alone—because you could hear every little sound. “You’re lucky I was already in the middle of it when you texted, y’know.”
Although he can’t hear you, you scoff, “Slut.”
“Got’ this hard thinking about you,” Gojo whispers, his slender fingers wrapping around his cock carefully, “I miss you, pretty girl,” His words and the way he’s slowly touching himself for you has your body hot and it’s only been a few seconds.
Pulling your bottom lip in between your teeth, your eyes narrow on his hand—how tenderly it slides up and up until he reaches his sticky tip, the way his thumb runs in between the slit of his cockhead to push at the translucent slick building up there, and how he lets out a hiss in response.
Then his hand lowers and the sound that follows is so wet, “Fuuck, I wish it was you touching me right now. You always make me feel s’good,” Gojo pants unintentionally, “Miss your lips on me too. How long’s it been? A week? Fuckin’ hate leaving you for work…”
You snicker lightly at his moment of rambling but the way his hand picks up in speed ever so slightly has your smile fading and your focus returning. Sometimes you wonder how he even fits inside you—his cock is so looong and from his base to his tip, he looks like he’d split you open (he does).
Your thighs squeeze together again and you’re starting to miss him the more you watch, the vivid and deep sound of Gojo humming your name causing a chill to slip down your spine.
And you swear you were about to get to the best part of the video he’s sent because his hand was moving at a quickened pace but you’re interrupted by an incoming video call from the man in question.
You practically jump out of your skin due to your ringtone before you scramble to answer it.
Batting your eyelashes as the call connects, you swallow hard, “H-Hello-“
“Knowing you’re watching that video isn’t enough for me,” Gojo huffs out, his camera now propped up for you so you can see most of his body.
His shirt is long gone, same with his sweats, and his legs are spread far ‘n wide—erect and throbbing cock standing straight up as his hand hauls his palm up and down. Gojo’s got his head thrown back and you have the clearest view of his glistening Adam’s apple, a slip of sweat sliding down from it and to his chest.
He’s panting all crazy-like, his hand fucking his cock much more aggressively than he was in that video you’d been watching, “Show me somethin’ baby, I need you,” Gojo huffs impatiently as he shifts his head back into place to meet your gaze on his screen.
You gulp, “S-Satoru, I-“
“Please?” He whines so suddenly and it has your pussy throbbing, especially with how he lifts his hips into his hand because of simply looking at your face, “Wanna see somethin’ pretty, show me your pussy, please?”
It's almost embarrassing how fast you move for your needy husband, going to prop your own phone up similar to how he’s done his and then discarding your clothes in a heartbeat.
“Spread yourself apart for me, baby,” Gojo groans out. You’re following his every word as you part your legs wider and move two fingers to your cunt to spread your pussy apart for him.
“Mmh, like this, ‘Toru?” You utter with a slightly shaky hand and an embarrassed expression.
You see the way Gojo’s jaw sinks a little and how his brows furrow as he fists his cock faster, almost eagerly, “Juust like that, sweetheart-, fuck. I miss being inside you,” Gojo says before tilting his head to really study your cunt, “Look how wet you are for me and I’m not even there, shit.”
You’ve got your pointer and ring finger holding your cunt open and you shift your middle finger to give yourself the slightest bit of relief, “It’s cause of your video..”
“Yeah?” Gojo smiles, “You liked watching me jerk off?”
His hand slows, palm steadily traveling down along his shaft as a whine leaves him. Your pretty pussy on full display for him and making his balls twitch. He wanted to be fucking you full of him so badly.
“Uhuh,” Your softer tone hits his ears and Gojo grunts.
“Shiiit,” He breathes out before biting his bottom lip. He’d started to drool without even realizing it and his cock was dripping in cum already, “Look at that pussy leak for me-, holy fuck.” Your husband moans, “Does my voice get you like this too?”
You’ve started to tease yourself with merely one finger and you can’t move your eyes away from his needy cock, “M-Mhm…” You hum.
“Aww, babyyy,” Gojo coos. Then you were slipping two fingers into yourself and trying your best to get off along with him, “Look at your fingers trying to please you like how I do,” He cracks a smile, “Doesn’t feel the same, does it?”
Shaking your head, “N-No, ‘Toru. I need you.”
“Hahh, need you too, sweetheart.” Gojo moans, hand picking back up. The faintest plp plp plp followed his movements as bits of cum dripped from his cockhead and onto the floor, “Look at how fuckin’ hard I am cause of you.” He huffs just before glancing down to himself.
Ah, he was making a mess but he was a bit too dazed with arousal to pay any mind to it right now.
You bite your lip and hum before tipping your head back and shutting your eyes, “Mmmh…”
“M’gonna get home and fuck you nice 'n full, I swear.” Gojo huffs. His voice is airy and his hand is getting a bit messy now.
Your lips part and you exhale heavily, “Can’t wait.”
“Yeah?" Your husband grunts, practically fucking his cock up into his hand at this point, “Maybe I’ll get you pregnant so I have an excuse not to leave you like this.”
Your legs start to close a little and you moan, “Satoru, m-mgh…”
“Fuck, m’gonna cum,” He groans pornographically into the air, “Wish I was cumming inside you, fuckin’ you dumb, watching you make a mess on me-, hahh… agh…” His lips quiver a bit as he gets close and he’s panting so hard that the camera is starting to fog up a little.
“T-Toru,” You whine for him—missing him oh so desperately now that you’re nearing your own orgasm.
“Yeah, mhm, m’here baby,” Gojo chants, breath heavy and hand jolting up and down his cock fervently, “C’mon, cum with me. You can do it, pretty girl.”
You’re nodding, he’s nodding—both of you are getting there together and whining each other’s names. Gojo’s veins are popping up on his hand with how tightly his gripping onto his cock and his mouth hangs open, eyelids heavy and vision blurring while he moans your name.
“Miss you so fuckin’ much,” Gojo groans finally before he glances to his phone to see you releasing all over your fingers—the sight leads him to cum right then and there with his kegs trembling slightly.
Fuck, he needed to get home soon.
☆ Nanami Kento
You were surprised to walk in on your boss jerking off.
“Oh fuck,” Echoed into the air, his voice thick with lust as he hadn’t even noticed you’d entered his office yet.
With the way his desk was, you could see everything. His bulky thighs parted like some slut, cock barely tugged out of his slacks, big veiny hand working to bring himself to an orgasm.
Truth be told, it’s your fault he’s like this—his cute lil’ assistant, walking around in those tight ass skirts he’s asked you not to wear thousands of times over again. And yet you do it anyway. Maybe because you know where it gets you with your boss or maybe because you wanted a situation exactly like this.
Sure, he’s your boss but he’s also the same man that fucks you til’ you can’t walk straight whenever you request him to do so.
But this? Well, you’ve never been so aroused by walking in on a man pleasing himself before. It had to be his deep groans of your name or even the size of his cock and how it exceeded the size of his hand, how you could picture your own hands around it and how you know your hands would be so pale in comparison.
Nanami’s got his eyes shut and he’s huffing and puffing through his nose, chest rising and falling rapidly the more he stokes his cock. All he can think about is you and the way you bent over in front of him less than thirty minutes ago.
He had half a mind to call you into his office and tell you to bend over his desk the same way—thinking of fucking you til’ you’re making so much noise that he has to shove two thick fingers in your mouth just to shut you up.
“Fuuck,” It’s rare you even hear him curse so to hear his mouth so vulgar now has you swallowing hard before you lock his office door with a slight click following.
His eyes bat open and he doesn’t bother stopping because he already knew it was you who’d walked in, you’re the only one who does so without knocking.
“Sir?” You utter gently, making his face twist up in arousal.
“Here, now.” Is all he can grunt out to you.
You’re moving toward him obediently with your panties soaking the closer you get. “Mr.-“
“Kento,“ He utters, “Please, fuck-, just… hahh, say my name, sweetheart.”
“Kento,” You correct in a sultry tone, “I didn’t know you were… occupied in here. What if someone else walked in-“
Nanami rolls his eyes at you and then lets off a scoff, “No one but you would,” He huffs, “Now get on my desk.”
You freeze as you find yourself standing right beside his desk, “What?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself-, just…” He trails off a little once his eyes meet yours and you watch his lashes flutter while his brows pinch together, “Oh fuck, I need… hah, fuuck.”
You chew on your bottom lip before smirking and stepping past his desk, closer to him, “Need what, Ken? Get it out…” You whisper.
“Damn vixen,” Nanami groans as he tosses his head back.
Glancing down at his cock, you watch as his tip grows a bit white—cum peeping out from his plump, sweltering tip and making you swallow thickly.
You then look back up to his face and start leaning down, placing your hands on the armrests of his chair to keep yourself up before uttering, “Do you want me to touch you?”
His response is instant, “God, yes.”
“How?” You murmur with a smirk, shifting your legs so that they straddle one of his, “How do you want me to touch you?”
Nanami opens his eyes and yet again and he grunts at how ridiculously close you are to him, “Anywhere.”
You tease, “Anywhere?”
“Yes, hurry up,” Nanami pleads. His voice nearly went desperate for you and you swore you heard something needy underlining in his tone.
Playing off of that, “Needy are we?” You comment before seating yourself on his thigh.
“Yes,” He gulps and begins to stammer while your arms wrap around his neck, “J-Just-“
Oh he can’t even finish his request before your lips are pressing into his neck and he’s groaning loudly. Cock aching for you whilst your lips move along his tensed skin. Each kiss from you earned groan after groan from him, the sound vibrating against his throat and his hand squeezing his dick tighter.
“Shit,” Nanami curses yet again as you kiss below his sharp jawline.
“You’re one naughty man, y’know. Did you want me to catch you like this?” You murmur against his warm skin, feeling the way he tenses up to your voice.
Nodding and humming a carefully little, “Mhm,” In response, Nanami’s completely at your mercy now, silently begging for you to continue down the path you’re on.
You smile and glance down to his hand still working his cock, cunt clenching around nothing the longer you stare, “Ken…”
“Y-Yes?” He stutters a bit and mentally curses himself for it—he knows you’ll tease him more about it later.
Planting another kiss beneath his jaw, you chuckle, “You’re drippin’ onto the floor,” You utter so seductively that he just groans and throws his head back again. “Making suuch a big mess all because of… what? Hm?”
“You,” He huffs, “You and that… that fucking skirt,” Nanami says through gritted teeth.
“Well,” You whisper with a slight smile still on your face, “If you have a problem with it you can always take it off of me.”
His free hand is gripping onto your waist faster than you have time to react and you let out a slight noise in surprise. Nanami’s lifting his head and angling himself to your neck, lips latching onto you as he lets out a groan like a man starved.
“Yeah?” He hushes out.
Then he’s pushing you back slightly and releasing his cock, both of you soon shoved to your feet with how quick and swift his movements are. He has you stumbling backwards until you bump into his desk and then there’s a hand grabbing at the side of your neck, tugging you into a deep kiss.
It’s hot and heavy, even as he pulls away from you and pants, lifting a thumb to drag your lower lip down, “Lay back and spread your legs for me then,” Nanami murmurs in that deep tone of his.
You gulp, “Sir, I-“
He cuts you off by slipping his thumb into your mouth, “You said I could get that skirt off of you. Don’t go back on your word and do as I said.”
Gazing at him for a singular moment longer, you lift yourself onto his desk and start parting your legs for the man. His thumb leaves your mouth and his finger is slightly wet as he places his palms to your thighs, slipping his grasp up to your hips and beneath that skirt of yours.
The fabric starts bundling up at you hips and you let out a sigh as you lean your upper half back.
Then, Nanami moves to tug at his tie and sends you a look of warning, “And don’t be too loud like last time… You don’t want others to hear how much of a slut you are behind closed doors, right?”
You release a scoff, “Says the man who was jerking off in his office.”
An outcast you rejected a while ago cannot bear the sight of you with other men! And what's a better place to corner you and beg to love him? By the lake, at night, when you're naked and alone. After he made sure to get rid of your newest lover, of course!
part of slutty (slasher) summer
˖ꨄ ݁˖ pairing: ꒰ Stalker/Killer!Suguru Geto x Slutty!Reader ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ content & warning: ꒰ mdni 18+ :: heavy smut :: set in 80s :: psycho stalker suguru :: yandere :: obsessive behaviour :: extreme possesiveness :: violence (not towards the reader) :: emo Suguru :: minx reader :: she's so mean :: murders :: death threats :: university au :: suguru has piercings :: oral sex :: masturbation :: stalking :: panties stealing (ofc) :: breeding kink :: creampie :: oral sex :: pussydrunk suguru :: belly bulges :: blood :: we love beating men :: miserable suguru :: extreme jealousy ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ words: ꒰ 11.4k ꒱
˖ꨄ ݁˖ notes: It was supposed to be shorter, but then I spiralled and cooked another long fic. Hope you'll like it <3
He was always there – somewhere, lurking behind the university's walls, with lavender eyes fixed on your figure.
Suguru Geto was known as your menace, stalker, the man who somehow became utterly obsessed with this campus's slutty sweetheart. A freak, an outcast, always hanging out with his weirdo friends. Metal bars coated his face like twinkling stars, and long, shiny hair brushed the ends of his hips, hung with heavy chains.
Two years of a master's degree, two years of a nightmare, a man haunting your dreams like a spectral creature with eyes always fixed on your body and heavy, bittersweet cologne trailing you through the corridors.
You first met in September of 86'. Right on campus, you sat on the grass with your new group of friends and a jock whose name you had long since forgotten, clinging to you like a puppy. The prettiest new girl at university, a heartbreaker, a slut, which you never truly denied. For it was the truth that you enjoyed sleeping around and chirping bewitching sweetness to your next foolish victims.
And Suguru saw you then, as you lay on lush grass in a mid-thigh skirt and white socks, wrapped just above your knees. You wore a checkered top and long earrings that brushed your neck. Squinted eyes turned to his freaky group once, with glossed lips curving into a mischievous smile and a slightly raised eyebrow.
"Why is he staring at me?" you asked, piquing Shoko's interest.
She looked over her shoulder, pushing a low groan. "Ugh, I guess he wants to talk to you. Don't mind them, probably some weird art major."
But it was hard to ignore the lavender irises hiding behind the almond-shaped eyes and this curious, slightly cheeky tilt of his head. September was still rather warm, and yet black jeans wrapped his long legs, hung with silver chains and patches. Dark tee with some washed-out band and thick bracelets stacked one after one on his pale wrists. Massive shoes could probably leave a hole in your delicate, white heels, and so grimace tug on your lips.
A jock sitting right next to you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, with a, "Don't worry, sweetheart, he won't be bothering you."
But you didn't answer, since he would be replaced by another guy by the end of this week. There was no need to raise his hopes.
The days were passing, and you were soon completely wrapped up in the university's tight schedule. Classes, studying, partying. Classes, studying, partying, fucking.
The young adult life was fun, with your friends always pulling you out of the dorm in the dead of night and taking you from one bar to another. From the local student's club to the cabin by the lake, owned by one of the jocks you happened to sleep with.
But the joys of a student's life – be it an evening spent studying or fucking in the car after a stressful exam – were, after a few months, taken away by your stalker.
Suguru Geto has been following you since day one. The moment his eyes fell on your body sprawled on the campus lawn, skin shimmering in the late summer sun, and a sweet giggle tickling his pierced ears.
His brain turned fuzzy whenever he saw the angelic aura wrapping around your cheeky face. Heart melted when your eyes fell on him, even for a single second. An uncontrollable feeling bubbled in his chest at the sheer sight of a little crease appearing between your brows when you bestowed him with a grimace.
It was clear that, for some reason, you treated him rather as a foe than a man who could pique your interest.
At first, he did nothing but look. Observe, with this devilish smile tugging at his lips and lavender irises taking pleasure in the loveliest scowl slipping onto your face. He tried to keep himself at bay, but not because shyness coiled in his heart.
No, simply because he wished to know everything about you, before making an official approach. Your favourite flowers, the desserts you most cherished, the tight course schedule that always seemed to keep you up all night, favourite shapes and colours of the clacking jewellery that hung from your skin. Of the big hoops that always brushed your neck, and bracelets stacked one on another, chirping like sweet birds whenever you passed by.
He wished to know the colour of your lingerie and how your panties smelled after a long day. To feel the warmth of the bra that had just left the embrace of your breasts. Smell the sweetness of your slightly sweated skin after days when you joined the cheerleading sessions.
Suguru… Suguru wanted to be the one having you all to himself, even if you hated the sheer sight of him.
Whenever you took a shower during late, late nights – someone always seemed to be there. In the shared bathroom on your floor, the one meant to be used solely by the female students. A listener, whose ears pricked up to hear a soft hum of a random melody that bubbled in your throat and sweet sighs when the first hot droplets hit your skin.
The first time you noticed it was when the bathroom doors closed louder than they should. Another girl coming back from a late session, you thought, giving it no mind.
But the silence that lingered in the air stretched for too long. As no other shower seemed to be in use, nor did any other sounds of movement filled the lonely bathroom.
You waited, and waited, to hear something that would not make you believe that a fucking creep slipped inside the room just to await your naked body leaving the shower.
But nothing else ever came, and so your voice echoed off the walls with a, "Hello?"
Silence stood still, and the hot droplets soon turned into the cold sweat tickling the shivering skin along your spine. Nothing, but the thick fog filled the tiled bathroom and a heavy breath of yours, trying to listen for the eerie footsteps that clacked against the wet floor a few seconds ago.
Coming closer, and closer, till you could already see the heavy, black boots peeking from the lower door crack. A gentle tingling of the oh-so-familiar silver chain slashed through the air, and if you lifted your head up, surely you could see a peek of silky black hair. The shower doors were, after all, not two meters tall.
"You fucking freak," a low snort escaped your throat. "You don’t think I know who you are?"
Silence.
He simply stood there, as if waiting. For you to come outside? Or maybe simply enjoying the tension that rose within a blinding fog. The faster beating of your heart, shuddered breath you tried to conceal with a harsh tone, and trembling fingers covering your breasts, as if he could see your naked body through the door.
"Cat got your tongue, huh? Don’t be a coward, at least say something," you continued, making sure the miserably weak latch was keeping the door closed. "You’ve been stalking me for months. Don’t you know who my boyfriend is?"
Suguru knew.
But he also knew that the captain of the basketball team wasn’t your boyfriend. Because you didn’t do that stuff – relationships, love, cheesy romance.
So a low chuckle slipped past his lips as he pressed his forehead to the door. Trying to smell the sweet body wash that lingered in the air, imagining the foam that coated your soft body and curled around those plush breasts he loved so dearly.
"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this," another snort escaped your throat, as you banged with a fist on the door. "You don’t think I’ll report you? I’ll end you, do you hear me?!"
But Suguru could simply laugh – deeply, with a vibration hitting the plastic surface. His large palm pressed to the door, as if he tried to imagine where exactly your hand lay. So the image of your skins almost touching could slip an eerie, excited thought that tickled his mind in such a pleasant manner.
A wrath coiled beneath your heart, hearing how much he enjoyed this little torture. Because, if only he wanted, he surely could rip the door off the hinges with little to no sweat. Instead, he simply let out a hum, curling the fingers into a fist.
"Sure, baby. I hear you loud and clear," a low purr bounced off the tile, foggy walls.
The heat made your head spin, body leaned against the plastic door in need of fresh air. But going out now would mean slipping right into his needy clutches.
And before you could snap once again, he added, "I hope you won’t mind me taking those pretty panties of yours, hm? I’ll give them back one day, pinky promise," and with that, the leather shoes disappeared from your sight.
With your pitched you fucking psycho, kissing his cheeks goodbye, as he left the stuffy bathroom.
And so during the first semester, you started seeing the consequences of having a stalker like him.
Your panties were disappearing one by one, and you knew that it was not a fault of the old washing machines in the dorm. Always suddenly appearing back on your bed, clean and fragrant, although only god knew what he did with them.
Other times, it was the white knee-socks from the cheerleader costume. The woollen, soft material that wrapped your sweaty thighs after hours of training. Always disappearing whenever you planned to do the laundry, always back on your bed a bit stiff, with a heavy cologne still clinging to the cloth.
The report to the headmaster did truly nothing, as you had no proof whatsoever that Suguru Geto was your stalker, nor that he slipped into the women’s bathroom. After all, no one else saw him, and for that matter, no one could accuse him of anything.
The jock you were sleeping with back then refused to deal with him another way, for he simply didn’t see a reason to it.
You snorted, the first time Toji said it and slipped off his bed. The winter’s biting cold was sneaking past the old dorm windows as you started dressing yourself up.
"Doll, what are you doing?" The mountain of a man asked with a sigh, stretching his massive body on a bed. "I won’t kill some random guy, just because you think he’s stalking you."
You scoffed at the quizzical tone of his voice, pulling on the warm, woolly sweater. "So you think I made this up, huh?"
Toji groaned, lazily wiping his face with a hand. "Come on, I’m just saying that he may have a crush and that’s it."
"He’s been stealing my underwear and listening to me taking showers for months!"
The emerald eyes followed you with a raised eyebrow, as you pulled tight jeans onto your ass. The scowl between your brows made him chuckle lowly and sit up on a bed, patting the still-warm place next to him.
"Come on, let me make you feel better. It’s not as if he’ll do anything else." His long hand reached for the loops of your jeans, but you quickly smacked it. "Doll, I’m serious. If you were in danger, I would definitely deal with him."
Fully dressed, with shoes on, you turned to him with a low tsk and, "I think you’re too much of a fucking coward to do it," before going out of his room and closing the door with a thud.
Months passed; winter turned into early spring, the second semester began, and Suguru Geto was slowly getting closer.
In slow, baby steps and yet you felt the line between the two of you thinning. With him appearing on your horizon much more often, following you around the campus, barely trying to hide it.
In early spring, he started leaving little gifts on your bed, under the door, in the locker. A pretty set of lingerie, favourite flowers, a tape with music he thought you could like, the… death threats.
Not to you, oh, but of course, as he would rather cut his limbs off than make a single, precious strand of your hair fall for the greediness filling his heart.
All the death threats were always aimed at your lovers, of course.
As Suguru had a little patience left for seeing you change men like gloves, with none worthy to be bestowed with the softness of your skin. To nuzzle into your neck, trace kisses down the chin, and hear the sweet laughter every single day.
Suguru was simply jealous. And he addressed it quite openly in short, paper notes that you somehow always found in your bag.
The mix of, baby he’s not good for you, and, break it off, or he’ll regret ever setting his eyes on my girl.
When you brought them all to the headmaster, he simply offered to monitor the situation. As you still had no proof to offer that Suguru Geto was the one who wrote them all. No one saw him slipping the notes into your bag, nor his ghastly figure stealing all your lingerie.
On a campus, he was simply a weird guy.
In classes, the best student.
For you, a hellish nightmare that tried to crawl under your skin and wrap around your body like a deathly viper.
And so you ignored the threats. Broke most of your relationships, but didn’t quite reveal the reason. If he had a problem with you sleeping with one guy for a month or two, then… you simply had to stick to one-night stands and not show yourself on campus with any other men.
As long as you weren’t hanging onto anyone’s shoulder, it should be okay. Somehow, you would last the next year and leave this town behind. With the stalker hot on your heels and the presents stacked in your bedroom, one on top of another.
The middle of the second semester began quickly, with spring in full bloom and the sizzling sun once again letting you slip away for the pool parties at the jocks’ houses. You allowed yourself to get lost in the pleasures and madness of student life, with summer just around the corner. Only a few months left, and you would get a break from your stalker for the whole holidays.
But then… Suguru Geto confessed.
He came to your dorm with a bouquet of your favourite flowers, a small bun sitting high on his head, and pierced lips curling in a gentle smile, as he knocked on your dorm’s door. After months of following you obediently like a puppy, he knew every little thing about you.
Every mood swing of yours, each emotion, always oh so visible on your lovely face. He learned how to watch you, please you, and say the right things to become the perfect boyfriend.
He knew how your pussy smelled during the ovulation days. How you usually tasted, checking it each day with a pretty lingerie of yours pressed to his lips, and fingers pumping his leaking cock.
He learned the melody you always hummed under the shower and the brand of shampoo that made your hair smell like the sweetest garden.
He found out what you liked and hated in bed, all the kinks you wished to try. The way your fingers pressed to your swollen clit, whenever you stayed in your dorm room alone. How your breath hitched when you were close, and thighs squeezed around nothing, although he truly wished it was his head being squished between the heavenly softness that haunted his dreams.
And when you opened the door, he knew that it was now or never. He, finally, was worthy to ask for your love.
"Hi, baby," he said, glancing at your figure dressed in nothing but a skimpy gown.
Wrapping you a bit too tight, ending just above the mid-thighs and with perked nipples poking through the flimsy material.
A scowl bubbled in your throat, and you quickly, with full force, tried to close the door. But he was quicker, slipping his heavy shoe right into the small crack.
"Leave, or I’ll start screaming," you warned him, getting as an answer a low giggle.
He pushed the door easily, coming into your room. The dim light slipping from the night table bathed the small space with a soft glow. A few scented candles flickered on your desk and the bed of your roommate, as usual, was empty.
You took a few steps back, trying not to show any signs of panic.
The sudden fear that rose in your chest. Breath becoming slightly more hitched, fingers trembling around the gown you tried to pull down. Eyes fixed on him, as if he could attack any minute now.
But he, as always, was looking at you. Closely, carefully, with lavender warmth slipping up and down your body and a handsome smirk tugging on his lips. Long hair tickled his shoulder, swimming down along the muscular back dressed in leather jacket. Metal bars on his lips and eyebrows twinkled like coins under the spilling candle-flame, adding a sort of wickedness to his demeanour.
Suguru Geto was… handsome.
Dear lord, he was beautiful.
And as difficult as it was to swallow, you could not change the fact that your stalker was one of the prettiest men you had ever seen. With a horrendous and sinful character, yet the face of an angel.
So you allowed yourself to trace the broad back bulging under the jacket. The height looming over your shivering figure. Long fingers that gripped the bouquet and beefy thighs dressed in black jeans. The woodsy scent of his cologne wrapped around your senses in an utterly pleasurable way, melting you in its warmth.
You hated the way he made you feel. Confused, scared, and most of the time simply furious. But somehow, on some days, a bit too balmy. With a heat spreading all over your body, slipping under the chest, down the belly, between the thighs, as if the wickedness of his actions, the sheer idea of how obsessed he was with you, made you excited.
So then, while he stood in your dorm with a straightened back, you decided to wait. To see what other foolish plan would bloom in his devilish mind, only for you to bring it back to the headmaster.
"What the fuck do you want?" you snapped, crossing arms over your chest.
He took a step closer, lavender eyes mingling with an excitement of a source that made your spine tingle in an unpleasant way. Long hand extended towards you, pushing a lush bouquet right into your arms.
"Go out with me," he stated, not even curving his tone into a question.
A statement, rather, it was as if he was utterly sure that you would agree.
And you stood there with the same scowl that didn’t leave your forehead even for a second. Fingers wrapped around the heavy bouquet, nostrils tingling with the strong, flowery smell you loved so much.
But the wrath coiling beneath your chest was dangerously close to spilling. Eyes bulged, hearing the question he dared to push after months of acting like a psycho stalker and turning your life into madness. Everyone looked at you like a crazy, delusional woman who tried to frame a poor outcast as a maniac who, Suguru Geto, definitely wasn’t.
And now he had the audacity to stand in your bedroom, checking your body dressed in nothing but a flimsy robe, as a sly smile tugged at his lips.
"What did you just say?" Rolled in tremble, as you could barely stop the rage bubbling in your chest.
His head tilted. Long legs took another step closer. Until the big hand lifted to nuzzle your soft cheek, strong thumb brushing the skin aflame with fury.
"Go out with me, baby. Let me love you as you deserve it." The silkiness of his tone made your head spin, in both an unsettling pleasure and madness. "And if you don’t want to date me, use me. It’s been a while since you slept with someone, hm? Why won’t you just use me for your pleasure?"
Thumb slipped to your slightly parted lips. The urge to bite it and suck on it fought in your mind, bringing an irrational feeling that made your lower lip tremble right under his digit.
His words clearly stated that he, in fact, did not know that you hadn’t given up on sleeping with other men. Because if he did…
"Why so sure that I’m not fucking with anyone?" You muttered, tilting head in a cheeky manner.
As if you wanted to indulge yourself in the psychotic game of his, fully aware that you would always end up as a loser. Because for the past few months, Suguru Geto was never, ever, letting you win any of the tricks you tried to play on him. The reports, gathering the evidence, paying people to give him the lesson, although the next day he was always appearing back on the university’s lawn. Fully aware of all your miserable attempts.
Something in his eyes twinkled, but the smile didn’t come off his lips even for a second. "Do you?"
You smacked away his hand, and with a swing, shot the flowers through the room. Gentle petals smashed against the wall, falling pitifully on your roommate’s empty bed.
Before he could even look their way, your arms wrapped around his neck, perked nipples pressed against his torso as you lifted yourself up on tiptoes. The sweetness of your skin immediately enveloped his senses, and it seemed this sudden, intimate gesture left him speechless.
"Every. Single. Night." You whispered, tugging harshly on the long, silky hair curling behind his neck. His breath slipped out shuddered, and, for the first time, you noticed a true rage bubbling in his gaze. "Think you’re so smart? That I’m scared of your stupid threats?" He didn’t answer, allowing himself to cherish the softness of your body pressed to his. "I’m fucking every day with a different guy. Guys, maybe? Who knows, maybe I’m already knocked up stupid after all the cum they–"
His patience finally snapped.
One hand curled around your waist, the other lifted to squeeze your jaw before the last, nasty words would fully set his mind ablaze. The fingers dug painfully into your cheeks, the arm kept you in place, forbidding you from slipping away from the deathly clutches.
"Aren’t you a smartass, hm?" He chuckled, but his low voice was edged with the wrath that made the lavender irises narrow into a cat-eye glance. "I’m giving you an easy way out, baby. If you’re a fucking nymphomaniac, why won’t you make me your boy toy? Think I was joking?" He tugged you, drawing a soft groan from your throat. And as fear filled your body from head to toe, something exciting, maddeningly confusing, tingled in your fingertips.
"You are a fucking joke," a muffled mutter bounced off the walls, only making him squeeze your cheeks even harder.
"I don’t think you’re in a position to make me angry, baby," he leaned closer, his lips mere millimetres from yours.
Another move, and he could taste the sweetness of your lip gloss.
"Or what?" You snorted, enraging him even more. "You’ll kill me? Come on, psycho. At least I’ll get myself free from you."
Suguru never wanted to hurt you. He never wanted to do anything that would cause you even a moment's pain. But the way you spoke to him, the way your eyes twinkled with the truth of choosing death rather than spending another second in his presence, made his blood boil in a disgustingly dangerous way.
Your doe eyes fixed on his, lovely face twisted in a wicked smile as he finally loosened his grip on your cheeks.
"Is that your final answer, then?" He asked, low bass filling the small room. Candle flames licked a side of his face, with warm tongues and peppered kisses. A devil truly looking like an angel. "I promise you’ll regret it, baby."
And with a final scowl, you pushed him away. This time, he allowed you to do it without a fight.
To kick his massive body out of your room and smash the door till the tremor bounced off the corridors.
Back then, while gathering the beautiful flowers of the bed and pushing them all to the trash can, you didn’t know what consequences your decision would bring upon the lives of not just you, but all the other people you associated yourself with. The rage filled you from head to toe, making your mind go foggy from the dizziness and adrenaline that still pulsed in your veins.
Back then, you thought that the official rejection would finally stop all his attempts to coax you into this weird relationship he had made up in his head and give you a little breather.
So when you didn’t notice his presence around yourself for the next few days, a grain of hope bloomed beneath your heart. That maybe, he finally decided to leave you alone.
Your lingerie stopped disappearing, death threats were no longer found in your bag, and all the little presents stopped appearing on your bed. Life was getting back on track, and you could enjoy the last few months of university, hanging on jocks’ shoulders and slipping into parties every single weekend.
But as it would soon turn out, those few days of peace were nothing but a bad omen. The storm that would soon haunt not only your life but the whole campus itself.
As on the night one of the male students had left your dorm, he disappeared. Simply, just like that, only to be found two days later in the local forest. With body dismembered into pieces, head a few meters away from the torso.
When the news spread across the campus, not a single student or professor was left unshocked, their hearts shattered.
Did he have any enemies? People wondered. Did he find himself in the wrong place at the wrong time?
The police went to you first, of course, since you seemed to be the last person who saw him that night. But the two officers didn’t get anything from the stuttering, and weeping body of yours, with dark circles swollen under your eyes. As, in fact, you didn’t even know his name, after meeting at some party and taking back for a quick fuck to your room.
Weeks passed before you could somehow move on and find calmness within a company of another guy. Not a one-night stand, but simply someone whose kindness and gentlemanly manner made your mind flutter with peace. He talked to you gently and made a sweet, genuine laugh slip past your lips. A friend, companion, but of no love interest from your side.
And yet, after a while, he disappeared too. Only to be found in the lake, with a purple body bulging from the water and a head wrapped in a dirty sack.
This case… made you spiral into madness.
Because, as you would soon discover, men who got close to you in any way were always, always, going missing just a few days after exchanging a few simple words with you. Be it a random student working in a library or a waiter at your favourite dinner. It didn’t matter who they were to you, but a single glance at your face was enough to sentence them to death.
And whenever another person was disappearing, you always saw him.
Suguru Geto, looking at you from across the campus, with a diabolical smirk tugging at his lips. Of unmatched beauty, with cheeks, straight eyebrows, and almond-shaped eyes. Lavender gaze lingering, with an uncanny sense of a secret only the two of you knew. The love and obsession so heavy that he was ready to cut you off from any men if that would force you to crawl back to him.
So you simply stopped hanging around campus. You just gritted your teeth, hid face beneath the heavy hoodie, and left the room only for classes. Room – classes, room – classes, the route that, during the last month before the summer break, became your routine.
You made minimal contact with other men, be it people in your class or a cashier at the local supermarket. Avoided the parties, gatherings, hangouts, just to not risk anyone’s life any further.
Just one month, you thought, desperately wanting to move back to your parents’ house for the summer holidays.
To leave Suguru, the university, this whole mess behind, and lock yourself far away from all the problems you already caused.
And then, a few days before leaving, Shoko knocked on your door. And when you opened with a puffy face and a shirt dirty from a chocolate ice cream you just stuffed yourself with, she sighed heavily, quickly coming inside.
"Do you even have a roommate?" She asked, noticing that the other half of the room was always empty.
With a brief nod, you fell back on your bed and closed the book you had just been reading. Ice cream in a big paper cup was melting on your bedside table, and heavy curtains cut off the summer light in the stuffy room.
"She’s always hanging out with her boyfriend," you muttered, patting the place next to you.
Shoko took a seat, watching the misery furrow your face. "You can’t cut yourself off. It’s not healthy, you know?" she said, tugging a lock of your hair back behind an ear.
Your fingers fiddled with the old, pink tracksuit, picking on the little, plastic diamonds glued to the soft material.
"I don’t want anyone else to die," a low, almost crying voice filled the space as you desperately tried to hold back the tears already swirling behind your eyelids. "What if he’s going to hurt you?"
She wondered for a second, taking in your state, a pain ripping at her heart. "Don’t worry, I won’t let that bastard get anywhere near me. Besides, it seems that he only aims for your…" She bit down on the lower lip, as if not wishing to confirm what was already obvious. "Anyways, I thought that maybe we could have some fun tonight. Nothing crazy, just a simple funfair with me, Utahime and Yuki."
You looked up from behind the wet eyelashes, seeing the comforting smile on your friend’s face.
"I don’t think I’m in the mood for fun," another sigh escaped your tightened throat. "Besides, he can follow me there."
She hummed, nodding her chestnut head. Short hair curled around the lean cheeks, and a single cigarette was pushed behind an ear.
"Well, how about you slip away through the window? He won’t notice you leaving the dorm. His room is on the other side of the building; he won’t even see you cross the lawn."
A low giggle slipped past your lips, seeing a cheeky grin lift her lips. "And how do you know that?"
"I think you truly underestimate your friends. Yuki’s boyfriend is friends with his roommate, the nerd guy, Satoru. We’ll make sure he keeps him entertained for a few seconds," Shoko laughed, squinting her eyes like a sly kitty. "Besides, there’s some weird metal band in town. I’m sure he and the rest of Addam’s Family will hang out there. He already knows you’re too scared to even leave your room, so… he won’t suspect anything."
The plan indeed sounded good. And as your room was on the first floor, slipping away would be easy. The worst that could happen was a small scratch, but it seemed worth it to experience even the simplest moment of joy before leaving your friends for two months.
At the same time… the fear was eating you alive. The thought that he might somehow be able to track your location sent a shiver down your spine. Made your mind freeze, heart trying to leap from the tightened chest. You didn’t want to hear about any more murders. Didn’t want to befriend kind, innocent people who would meet a tragic end only because of the psychotic stalker who cared for you in his sick, twisted manner.
And yet, without a second thought, you nodded, drawing a squeak from Shoko’s beaming face. She pulled you into a tight, warm hug, a sweet fragrance of perfume and cigarette smoke wrapping around your senses.
"So get your ass up now and go take a shower," She said, pushing you towards the door. "I’ll prepare a little special outfit for our night out."
The bathroom was empty when you entered, but no one interrupted your long, warm shower. No heavy footsteps bounced off the tiled walls, and no one’s silky hair peeked down at your naked body. It felt almost unusual, yet you tried to enjoy this intimate moment of peace just as you used to, with the same melody hummed softly beneath the dripping rain and a sweet body wash lathering your skin.
Colours seemed to slowly spread across your cheeks, the purple smooched disappeared from under your eyes, and a heavy, relaxed breath escaped your throat.
The life, even for a slippery second, felt as if it was back under your control.
When you turned to the room, a small, shocked gasp rolled off your tongue.
"I am not wearing that!" You scowled, looking at the set Shoko prepared for you.
You had long forgotten about the tight, extremely short pink skirt and the sparkling white top that were hidden in your wardrobe. A set of white lingerie lay right next to them, and your heart almost stopped at the bra, thin enough to make your perked nipples visible through the flimsy top.
"What do you mean? You wore it so many times before!" she exclaimed, adding a pair of big hoops and milky-white heels. "Come on, don’t be a prude!"
"I’m not, but…" but what if some guy tries to talk to me, and he will be there, and…
"Nuh-uh, stop. I can read your thoughts," Shoko said, quickly wiping a towel over your naked body. Her chestnut eyes slid up and down your figure, a cheeky smile tugging at her lips. "Mhm, perfect. Dress up and let me do your make-up."
So after an hour and a long fight over the crimson lipstick that smudged your lips in an utterly whorish way, you and Shoko, under the sky blanketed in darkness, finally slipped away through the window. Bags fell onto the lawn first, heels following right after, only for your stupidly giggling lips to shush each other as you ran across campus.
Yuki and Shoko were already waiting outside, and when you saw them crouched behind the bushes, a loud, alive laugh filled the warm summer night.
"Why didn’t you wait in the car?" You asked, slipping into the passenger seat.
Yuki started the car, slowly reversing from the university’s car park. "For your entertainment, dear." She chuckled before pulling onto the main road.
After ten minutes of laughing and chit-chatting in the car, with music blasting from the speakers and Yuki’s cabriolet swooshing along the forest roads, you finally noticed the lights.
Red, orange, and purple, with a Ferris wheel looming over the dark, haunted house, rollercoasters, and multiple colourful booths filling the place with a mixture of burnt popcorn and sweet cotton candy. The tacky music beamed from the stickers, bouncing off the nearby lake, hidden just behind the deep forest.
Children, teenagers and students filled the park to the brim, with plastic red cups or paper boxes of food in their hands. Men tried to show off their muscles, hitting the high striker again and again until the golden bell buzzed with a red alarm, tickling your earlobes. A few squeaks escaped from the haunted house after a group of girls left it, laughing and giggling, while another group just entered, fear twisting their faces.
It seemed perfect, joyful and carefree, lifting a heavy burden from your shoulders and allowing you to experience a moment of happiness.
Shoko wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you towards the entrance.
After an hour, you completely forgot about the terror that had haunted you for the past year. You couldn’t count the cans of beer you drank, the amount of caramel popcorn that filled your belly with sweetness, all the times you almost barfed on the rollercoaster, and your miserable attempts to win a plush toy in darts.
Some men looked behind their shoulders to sense a direction from which sugary laughter was coming. Some tried to talk to you, but all three girls were immediately taking you away from their clutches, knowing that the presence of another guy was the last thing you needed.
But then all of them left for the haunted house, which you refused to enter, and suddenly became easy prey. Easy enough for someone to come into your line of sight and let out a chuckle when another soft ball didn’t hit the moving object.
"I’m sorry, but you really suck at it," a low voice whispered in your ear, and you quickly looked over your shoulder.
A young man, surely your age, with coffee-coloured eyes that mingled like little stars and sandy hair brushed slightly back. He stood tall, with broad shoulders bulging beneath the blueish shirt. Muscular arms peeked from beneath the short sleeves, with a few creamy buttons revealing his warm chest.
Your lips pouted. "I’m not that bad."
"It’s the fourth time you lost it."
Sixth, almost slipped away, but instead, you let out a giggle.
His eyes scanned your face, taking in the loveliness warming your skin, before drifting towards a booth filled with plushies.
"So which one do you want?" He asked, giving the cashier a few dollars for another try.
You bit the plush inside of the cheek, pointing with a finger at the big, black cat with yellow eyes and a pinkish nose.
"He looks mischievous," a man murmured, nevertheless sending you a smile.
His legs spread a bit wider, and his body leaned over to get a better view of the moving cans.
"I like them a bit mischievous," you said, moving yourself to stand right next to him.
With a corner of the eye, you noticed his gaze on your warm cheeks, before he looked back towards the game. "I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m a nice guy."
The first ball flew, hitting right in the middle of the small can. You gasped, shooting your head towards him. To look at the cheeky smile and sandy brows curving up.
"You did not!"
He shrugged, rolling a chuckle. "Not bad, hm?"
Another three balls in his hand disappeared just as quickly. One by one, each hitting the can with force, until the metal cups fell to the ground. The cashier seemed just as surprised and charmed as you, watching the blue veins bulge on his forearms and squinting at the aim.
When the last can fell, you suddenly, without a further thought, grabbed his shoulders and started jumping with loud squeaks.
"Oh my god! Amazing!" The pure happiness lighting your face swelled his heart with pride as he pointed a finger at the big, black cat.
"Here you go, pretty," He said, a gentle rosiness kissing his lips as he pushed the plush into your arms.
A bit too small to hug it fully, slightly bigger than your chest.
"Pretty?" Fell rather cheeky, as you walked towards one of the benches.
The warm summer air coated your body, hair stuck to the glossed lips, and you noticed the way his finger curled into a fist, as if wishing to push those few strands away.
"Well, aren’t you?" He scratched the back of his neck at the poor attempt to crack a flirty joke.
And as heartwarming as it was, maybe a little cheesy, you smiled, nuzzling cheek into the soft fur of your new gift.
"Mhm, whatever you say, handsome."
This time, his lean cheeks blazed with colour. Eyes slipped over your shoulder, as if the loveliness of your eyes was simply too much to bear. Cute.
"I’m Nanami," he said, coffee eyes finally meeting yours once again. "I was watching you for a while and thought you were pretty…"
The shyness creeping up his neck melted your heart. He was handsome, of course he was, with a sharp jaw and sandy hair, a few golden strands as if licked by the sun's rays. Eyes deep and warm, like sweet cocoa, held the damnedest purity that men your age usually did not possess. Pale skin, coated with a sheen of sweat, fingers curling and straightening under the weight of your gaze.
You sat down on the nearby bench, nothing but a black cat keeping your thighs from touching each other.
"Are you trying to flirt with me, Nanami?" You asked, turning head his way.
"Is it working?"
You hummed, leaning closer with a devilish smile dancing on your lips. "I think you’re pretty cute."
Nanami turned out to be the utmost gentleman. Always paying attention to everything you said, listening with pricked ears and quick nods. Sometimes the conversation turned to him, but more often to you. And although you thought of yourself as a rather boring person, Nanami enjoyed every word that slipped past your lips.
He seemed rather boring, but kind, shy, and utterly curious about your persona. Making a pleasurable warmth bubble in your belly and a wicked need to coax him into your arms. To use him for your own satisfaction, as back in the days when you enjoyed spending your nights with men too good to hang out with girls of your sort.
And soon you started leaning closer. And closer, placing the cat on the other side of the bench, pressing your thighs together. He was sweetly, utterly aware of your presence. Of the sweetness that filled his nostrils, the warmth of your body and giggles kissing his earlobes.
"I was thinking…" fell sweetly, with your breasts stuck to his arm.
"Maybe we could move somewhere quieter?" A lovely pout formed on your lips, doe eyes lurking up from beneath the curtain of lashes. "There’s a lake nearby. And I could reaaally use a cold swim right now."
You felt a tremor slip down his spine. The goosebumps rising on the skin of his bicep, you curled fingers around. A bulge in his trousers that made your eyes twinkle and lips lift in a wicked smile.
"But you don’t h-have a swimsuit," he said, perfectly knowing how stupid his reasoning was.
Because the lack of a swimsuit was, indeed, the whole point of this secret meeting.
So when a low, "Do you mind?" Slipped past your lips, he quickly shook his head.
"Let’s meet in ten, then." You said, before walking away towards the hidden beach with a gentle sway of your hips and a big cat wrapped within your arms.
It was safer to meet there separately. The reasons were obvious, but Nanami didn’t need to know them. There was no need, as for the past few hours you had been carefully scanning the park for the dark, heavy shoes and their owner, a face that still haunted your dreams.
It seemed he truly had no idea of your whereabouts, so the invitation seemed quite safe. Nanami appeared too good to get himself tangled up in your whole mess, yet the egoistic, carnal need for pleasure was far stronger than the need to keep a clear mind.
The short path through the dark forest led you towards a small beach, with trees looming over the crystal water and the moon peeking through the thick branches. Crickets hummed a summer melody, gentle waves crashed over the soft sand and without a second thought, you started undressing yourself.
The top, skirt, heels, followed by the flimsy white lingerie. A shiver ran down your spine when you dipped your feet in the water. Lukewarm, but still cooling your body in such a pleasing way. You slowly went further, and further, till the lake wrapped around your hips and moonlight bounced off the crystal droplets gathering on your skin.
Soft sigh slipped past your lips as you immersed yourself fully, with only your head peeking over the calm surface.
After a while, you finally heard footsteps slowly coming towards the beach. Nanami was close, and so you went back to the shore, slowly, slowly, walking out of the lake, with beads coating your naked body. Hanging off the perked nipples, nuzzling into the collarbones, dripping down your pussy, and a sheer sight of you could make one recall legends of water nymphs. With a beauty that unlatched heaven itself, carrying a wicked spell that spiralled men into madness.
When the shadow lurked from between the bending trees, your lips curled. Head tilted, mind already imagined the fever that would hit his lovely, virgin cheeks.
"Nan–"
And yet, before the name could fully roll off your lips, your breath hitched instead.
Because the man who appeared in front of you wasn’t him. The kind boy you met just minutes ago.
No, but instead Satan himself. Demon, nightmare, a fiend plaguing your life since the year before.
With a tall, muscular body dressed in black, heavy shoes wrapped around his ankles, creamy skin drenched… in blood. Long fingers wrapped around the long knife, and this damned smile bubbled behind the lavender irises.
"You–" a shuddered breath escaped your tightened throat, body suddenly a lot more naked than it should.
Everything you showed, exposed, and wanted to offer wasn’t meant to be seen by him.
And Suguru Geto knew it. Oh, he knew too well, and that’s why the lavender gaze travelled up and down your body with a satisfaction.
"Hi, baby," he said, slightly tilting his head. "Why the surprised face? Have you waited for someone else?"
You didn’t say anything. Didn’t need to confirm the obvious. Instead, your hands lifted to cover the soaked breasts, eyes quickly fell on the clothes left messily on the sand. Four big steps and you could at least grab the lingerie.
But Suguru noticed the way your gaze wandered, and a small gasp escaped his lips. He was faster, with long legs carrying him to your panties before you could take a step, body still frozen in fear. With one hand gripping the knife, he bent over and grabbed the dirty panties with the other.
"Such a pretty set. All for me?" He giggled, lifting the material to his nose. You could hear a low moan as he took a deep, heavy sniff with utter pleasure. Pervert. "Fuck, baby. You always smell so fucking good." Before you could snap back, his tongue peeked out past the pierced lip, taking a long, moany lick of your juices, lavender eyes not leaving your face for a second. "And taste like heaven."
Something bubbled in your belly. A mix of emotions too strange to identify, making your mind spin into a fury and spine tingle with a craving too queer to admit. The sole fact that standing naked in front of your stalker felt…
"Where’s Nanami?" you added quickly, trying to ignore the way your thighs clenched the moment Suguru moaned around your panties.
He took a step closer, coming your way at an unhurried pace. Panties hidden in the back pocket of his jeans, a thumb brushing away your juice, mixed with a crimson liquid on his cheek.
Suguru shrugged, eyes still fixed on your face. "Who?"
Your fingers turned into fists, as "What did you do to him, psycho?" fell through the gritted teeth.
But the gentle crease appearing between your brows melted Suguru’s heart. Low chuckle bounced off the calm water, as he was only a few steps away. If he wanted to, he could simply extend his hand and grab you by the neck.
"Baby, I really thought you learned your lesson," an angelic pout twisted his lips, as he pressed the drenched knife to his cheek. "Let me think… are you talking about the guy who was coming to see you? Blond, slightly shorter than me?"
When a terror flickered behind your gaze, his eyes lightened. "Ah, so that was him? Well, I didn’t like the fact that he was coming to meet my girl," Lavender irises dropped down to your breasts covered by your hands, before slipping towards the soft belly, hips, mound of your pussy, with a low growl tickling your ears. "Fuck, baby. I’m so happy this fucker’s dead. I can’t believe–"
Before Suguru could finish, you took a step.
And the next one, and another, before your palm met with his cheek. You didn’t expect the hit to be that hard, and yet he stumbled and fell on the soft sand. With a shock crossing his face and hand lifting to grab his burning skin.
"Bab–"
You launched towards him, your hips straddling his, palms pressing his shoulders down until his head hit the ground. Everything felt too weird, unnatural, as burning rage took over your mind and adrenaline pulsed beneath your skin.
Another slap echoed from the looming trees, and when his head flew to the left, you quickly turned it right with the next hit. And the next, next, counting each man who died because of you. The jock, the kind guy, the diner waiter, the student from the library… Nanami.
One hit more ruthless than another, but the adrenaline cooed over the sizzling pain that ripped your palms. No tears ran down your face, no trembling washed over your spine.
It was a wrath that had been simmering beneath your heart for months and finally found a way to spill in a deeply dishonourable way, leaving you filled with disgust for the violence he forced upon you.
When you finally finished, with deep breaths slipping one by one through your parted lips and eyes looking down at his face, a sort of peace dripped into your mind. Upon seeing a thin thread of blood trickling down his lips and a nasty, lavender bruise slowly forming high on cheeks.
He lay still with a mix of shock and absolute, loving madness that slipped in a shudder past the bloody traces on his face.
If Suguru Geto had thought he already loved you those few minutes before, now, with your naked body straddling his and cheeks pulsing from a beating he had himself awakened in you – he wasn’t sure whether love was enough to describe the devotion his heart swelled with.
Your breasts rose with deep breaths, lips slightly parted, while your hands still pressed his shoulder into the sand. And before he could speak, your finger hooked around his lip piercing, pulling him forward as pain shot through every nerve the metal had struck.
"Stop fucking testing me," you growled, with squinted eyes looking straight into his. "Think you’re so smart? I know your psychotic ass is too miserable to lay a finger on me. Pull another stunt like that and I’ll fucking kill you," you launched him forward, without a care whether the lip ring would rip through the skin. "Do you understand?"
He quickly nodded, but the heart-shaped irises were enough to raise another wave of fury beneath your chest.
And when he thought you would stand up and simply walk away, leaving him on a sand with a blood trickling down his chin and a hard cock trying to rip through his pants, you…
Kissed him. Smashed your lips against his, licking clean the crimson liquid pooling on his skin.
Suguru was already taken by surprise, but now, feeling your warmth so close to his body, he could swear that heaven was nowhere but in the taste of your sweet breath.
He moaned, drinking the saliva dripping from your lips and feeling the wet pussy rolling against his bulging jeans. Your hands lifted to his cheeks, squeezing them tight till another pitiful groan slipped right into your mouth.
And when his big palms landed on your hips, you pulled back, giving him yet another slap. "Don’t fucking touch me, you psycho."
Your words fell harshly, but the desire bubbling in your lower belly and sticky juices coating his jeans were enough evidence to make you feel utterly, madly turned on by the miserable state he allowed you to put him in.
"Baby, fuck, sit on my face, I’m begging you," he moaned, looking down at the long, silky thread that dripped down from your cunt right onto his bulge.
The sheer sight made his mind spin, and when you moved over his face, Suguru was sure that blood started dripping from his nose.
"I don’t care if you’ll suffocate, but you better make me cum," you stated, looking down into his dazed eyes.
Knowing fully well that the death between your thighs would bring him the peace he did not deserve.
With one move, you sat yourself on his face, tongue already peeking out and plastered to meet the heavenly sweetness of your cunt. A low, loud groan filled your drenched walls as he could finally savour the flavour he had craved for so long.
Lavender eyes rolled back, muscular body trembled as you sat with your full weight, till his teeth grazed your swollen clit and tongue sealed the leaking entrance. He drank the honeyed saps like a man starved, lapping through your folds with low moans and shallow breaths. Getting himself intoxicated by the creaminess trickling down his throat and coating the inside of plush cheeks with a sheen of sugar.
His hand immediately slipped down to his cock, fiddling with a belt, only to pull out a massive, leaking shaft that hit his abdomen. You looked over your shoulder, mouth watering at the sheer sight of the monstrosity he dared to keep hidden all this time.
He did offer to be your boy toy, and maybe, maybe, you would think it over, knowing the fatness that could poke each and every nerve deep inside your pussy.
When his lips curled around your clit, sucking on the swollen button, your hips rolled in pleasure.
"Fuck," you moaned, feeling a smirk already tugging on his bloody lips.
The metal rings felt slightly cold, bringing a weird pleasure to the heat that ripped you from the inside.
His long fingers curled around the thick shaft, pumping it in slow, lazy strokes. The reddened head pulsed as if ready to burst, balls contracted whenever your hips rolled over and over again, smearing his chin, cheeks, nose in a creamy cum.
His tongue fluttered around your clit, folds, poking inside the tightening cunt. When his other hand slipped up to grab your tit, you allowed it with a soft groan. Long fingers rolled the hardened nipple, squeezing the fat that fit into his palm just right.
"My sweetest," he pulled slightly away, forcing a frown upon your lovely forehead. "That desperate to get fucked, huh? I’m sorry my baby needed to wait that long."
It could look as if he was talking to you, but, in fact, his squinted eyes were nowhere but on your glistening pussy. With another wave of cum already sticking to his lips and lonely hole clenching desperately around nothing.
"My–"
"Stop talking," you muttered, grabbing a fistful of his silky hair, only to push him towards your cunt. "I’m far from cumming."
And he did as you ordered, plastering himself again to the heaven between your legs.
This time, he lapped more hungrily. With lips, tongue, nose poking all your sweetest buds, sucking on the trembling clit and pushing, pushing, pushing inside the weeping cunt. Each roll of your hips tugged painfully on his piercing, but he didn’t mind.
No, but rather took a carnal pleasure from the heaviness of your body, feeling that dangerous warmth bubbling in his loins.
And you were no better, with head falling behind and eyes closing from the ecstasy that was ready to spill any second. Looking back on his cock, you moaned, already imagining the fat, leaking shaft nuzzled deep inside your pussy. With a slightly curved head hitting your womb and a warm cum filling you to the brim.
"Oh fuck, I’m close," an almost inaudible whisper rolled off your tongue, but Suguru caught it in time.
With a sly smirk and lips sucking on your clit harsher, till the plumped bud trembled on his tongue, leaking a few droplets of sap.
His face turned red, for you really cut the air off and made him suffer in pleasure, strangled beneath your oozing cunt. Eyes rolled back again, a low groan spread through your pussy, sending another wave of climax down your spine.
And within the next few rolls and his tongue digging deep inside your soft walls – you finally cummed. Gushed, all over his face, drenching it in splatters of crystal droplets, landing in his mouth, on cheeks, dripping down the forehead. Your thighs squeezed around his head, a pitched moan left parted lips, and fingers grabbed his hair tighter.
You trembled, and trembled, feeling the ambrosial orgasm tickle your spine. Probably the first and best given to you through oral sex alone.
And as embarrassing as it was to admit, Suguru was, by far, the only man who made you moan that loud.
You didn’t have a moment to catch your breath. No strength to lift yourself up from his body. And to him it was of no problem, as the second later, the world spanned only for you to find yourself under him.
With thighs glued to your chest and ass slightly lifted up.
"I told you–"
His lips fell onto yours before you could finish, drawing a sweet moan from your throat.
"My poor baby is in heat," he muttered, licking a long stripe of your sweating cheek. "Let me take care of you. You waited so fucking long, didn't you?"
"And whose fault is that?" You snapped, feeling his smirk back onto your lips.
He kissed you messily, yet with a sweetness and care you would never associate with a psycho of his sort.
"I told you," he started, pulling away to take his shirt off. Muscles upon muscles glistened under the moonlight spilling through the trees, dark locks cascading down to his hips. "You will regret rejecting my love."
His trousers quickly joined the shirt on the sand, and soon he was hanging over you naked. With a heavy cock lying on your belly and droplets of precum leaking onto your belly button. It burned down through your skin – the hefty girth that made your mind spin from the sight alone.
He didn’t cum, as if waiting to release himself deep within the warmth of your pussy, and his next "Last time you mentioned something about getting knocked up, hm?", only confirmed the nasty thoughts already bubbling in your skull.
"Don’t know how to use a condom?" You bit down on lower lip, deep inside knowing that you yourself would throw that condom away.
There was simply no way you would pass up a chance to feel such a monstrous shaft deep inside you. His big palms hook under your thighs, folding you even further, till the breath alone slipped in trembled gasps and chest squeezed under the heaviness of his body.
And yet, you still tried to expose yourself even further, moving your hips in desperate need to meet the long-craved fraction and the maddening stretch. It felt so embarrassing, humiliating, to get yourself drunk on the pleasure that tickled your fingertips and made your lips fall open.
Dizziness already coiled behind your eyes, and Suguru could see it clearly. In the way you looked at his leaking cock, with this slutty, needy gaze.
"Do you want me to use it, baby?" He chuckled, leaning himself down. Only lick a long stripe down your neck, feeling the sweat tickle his taste buds. "Tell me you don’t dream about getting fucked raw and stupid."
A moan slipped past your lips when the head of his cock smooched your entrance, and lips sucked on sensitive skin right beneath your jaw. "Just do it already, fuck."
"Tell me you love me," He murmured, teeth grazing one of your pulsing veins. "Tell me you’ll stay, and I promise to give you everything."
Hips already rolling, as you tried to get yourself closer to his fatness. To the tip that oozed with sticky precum and the heat radiating from his cock.
A pathetic mewl escaped your throat as he sank himself a bit deeper. But only the plump head, that already marked the painful stretch you would surely get after the rest of the shaft followed.
"Stop dreaming, you psycho," you gritted through your teeth, pushing out even more of the cum that wrapped in a creamy ring around his cock. You stretched your hand, taking a fistful of his hair, only to pull him closer. Till your lips crashed in another kiss, the dried blood sticking to your maws. "Fuck me stupid, and I’ll think about it."
And Suguru, as desperate as he was, needed only those few, mean words to shove his massive shaft deep inside your pussy.
A loud scream bounced off the trees, soon muffled by his lips, drinking in every cry, every moan that started spilling out.
The stretch was as painfully ecstatic as you expected, spinning your mind with drowsiness and rolling eyes into the skull. He filled every corner, every fold of your plush hole, till the reddened head smooched your womb. You trembled from head to toe upon a sudden intrusion, and the way he immediately started moving.
Pushing, thrusting, shoving his cock till the balls squelched against your lifted ass, and nasty splashing filled the little beach. He kept you in place, with muscular arms folding you in half and lips licking, sucking, and biting on the sensitive skin of your neck. Chest plastered to your nipples, brushing the perked buds each time he rammed his cock inside your weeping cunt.
The air felt sticky and steamy, with the sweetness of your breaths mixing whenever another moan slipped past your lips, and Suguru watched carefully as pleasure twisted your face.
The ethereal beauty that warmed your cheeks, eyes lidded in delight, a stream of spit dripping down your chin, before he licked it with a low, nasty groan.
"Fuck, baby, I waited so long," He muttered, mind spinning into madness whenever your plush cunt clamped on his cock. "So hungry, weren't you?"
When his fingers slipped between your bodies, only to press against your clit, a pitched, "Mmm y-yeah, fuck, I hate you so much," rolled right into his smirking lips.
He chuckled, shoving his shaft faster, deeper, till a small bulge appeared right under your belly button. "Do you? Because I thought you, ugh, liked them a bit mischievous, huh?"
You heard those words somewhere before. Maybe because they were the same words said to Nanami.
But then, with his cock stuffing you, nasty, full and plush lips caressing yours, you couldn’t give a single fuck about how he knew about them. The only thing that mattered was his heavy, beefy body pressed to yours, leaving barely any space for the warm air that desperately tried to slip between your sweating skins.
"Suguru," a lovely mewl escaped your throat when his curved tip hit your sweet spot inside. Ramming into it relentlessly, with a force that drove your body into the sand. "So, oh god, you fill me so good."
His lips met your jaw, chin, lavender eyes tracing each scowl of your face. "You love it, don’t you, baby?" Big thumb rolled the swollen clit, pulling another pinched moan from your throat. "I know, baby, you love it so fucking much. And if I’ll do this," He rammed his tip against your spot again, before nuzzling it right against the plumped womb. "You will cum very, very soon."
And he was right. Pushing all your buttons, kneading your body in all the right places as if he knew exactly how to make a warmth bubble in your belly.
Fingers of one hand dug painfully into the backs of your thighs as you opened them even further, letting him slip into you even deeper.
"Talk to me, baby." He ordered, feeling the erratic clenching of your walls. "Tell me how much you love me."
"I love it–ahhh," rolled instead, and you could feel a dissatisfied tsk bouncing off your chin.
"No, baby," his teeth sank into your neck, his thumb pressing on your clit even harder. "Come on, baby, tell me how much you fucking love me. I’ll kill every man you’ll ever try to talk to. Hell, I’ll slash your pretty friends’ throats if they try to keep me away from you." Each nasty word was marked by a more brutal roll of his lips. Till the sweet pleasure of smooching your womb soon turned into your painful cries. "Say it, say that you love me."
The warmth in your lower belly was ready to spill, head lulled to the side only to be brought back by his lips, tugging harshly on yours. He bit into them, then licked the swell with a coo, as if trying to coax you into the madness-confession he had waited so long for.
And you, wrapped around the heavy weight of his cock inside your cunt and the way he made your feet curl in pleasure, finally, unfortunately, had given up.
"Suguru, I love you–nghh–s-so fucking much," a sweet mewl slipped past your lips. "So good, fuck, you feel so fucking good. I love you, love you, love you, love you–"
Your desperate cries were muffled by his low groan, dripping into your throat, as he finally stilled.
With cock kissing your womb, lips lick the tears rolling in the corners of your eyes and a thumb pinching the trembling clit.
You came with a loud cry, squirting all over his beefy thighs, abdomen, soaking the trembling shaft that started filling your clamping walls with waves and waves of cum. Its stickiness glueing to your soft insides, creamy droplets plugging you so full, till the milky threads spilled from the rim of your cunt.
And in the brief moment when Suguru Geto let his guard down, your fingers seized the long knife left messily on the sand and, with a single furious thrust, drove it deep into his left thigh.
A low groan slashed through the air when the shimmering iron struck his thick muscles, sending a painful wave over his spine.
You rolled his heavy body off, milky cum still dripping down your thighs and eyes…
Eyes looking no better than his. With heart-shaped irises glancing down at his body wrinkling in pain, with a sweet giggle, as you finally felt the winning pleasure spreading all over your chest.
His naked, muscular figure sprawled on the sand, cock already getting hard once again, upon seeing the bloody, sticky mess you left on him. Lavender gaze gazed up to you with a swelling devotion, and you needed to grit your teeth not to give him one last slap.
Instead, you started dressing yourself, slowly, with eyes squinted and lips tugged by a sly smile.
"I should fucking kill you," tickled his ears, and he could only give you a short nod. "But it would be a waste of resources," your eyes slipped onto his already leaking cock.
"I’ll come over tonight, baby," he mumbled, wrapping his hand around your ankle. If he could, he would crawl behind you, but the pain slashing through his thigh was already spiralling him into dizziness. "Fucking, wait for me, I’ll come over."
"I’ll be taking a shower in two hours, and I expect to see you there," you said with a final low hum and a tilt of your head, before walking away.
And Suguru… he had to jerk himself twice before he could finally stand up, swaying and pain swirling droplets of sweat on his neck. Yet, neither death nor such a minor injury could ever keep him away from his sweet, precious girl.
You know what, I kind feel sorry for Nanami... anyways, pyramidhead Toji next! I haven't written Toji for such a long time! I hope you enjoyed the first story <3
…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.
— 𝜗𝜚⋆ your husband gets clingy and sappy during sex
it always starts heated, hungry, almost borderline feral when you get your hands on each other. the rough yet gentle way his voice echoes in your ear at every promise he tells you he’s gonna do to you: knows it makes your knees weak and pussy wet.
his touch always traveling around your body, knowing it like the back of his hand, knows what you like and don’t like, knows which buttons to press to have you trembling and shaking. whispers the dirtiest things in your ear while he’s got this finger stuffed in your cunt and you can’t do anything but grip his wrist tightly and moan into his mouth when he kisses you.
but there’s also times when it shifts, the entire bedroom becomes soft all of a sudden, like now; sat back on his knees, thumb rubbing the slowest circles on your clit while his can’t take his eyes off the way his cock eases in and out of you with one leg pushed off to the side and the other bent over his shoulder. “baby,” he murmurs, deep and low in his throat, his lips littering wet kisses against your leg. “you’re so pretty, baby.”
your eyes snap open at his words, dazed and confused. “huh?” through tears welling up in the corners of your eyes, you catch sight of him, but he isn’t looking at you. he’s fixated on your pussy. your lips part with another string of soft whines, hand loosely pressed against his chest when he’s slowly grinding into you; the thickness of his cock stretching you out perfectly. “what did you say?”
if he hears you, he choses not to say anything, not yet anyway, too entranced with how he fills you up, eyes hooded and breath stuttering at the warmth of you wrapped around him. doesn’t seem to register the way your nails sink into the skin of his chest each time he pulls out just enough to have you whimpering in protest before pushing right back into you. each thrust knocking your breath out of you.
it’s when his eyes flicker up and meet yours finally, lowering your leg from his shoulder, that he smiles; the lazy and giddy kind, before he’s leaning over you. his body, made up of pure muscle and strength, cages yours beneath him. “you’re pretty too, sweetheart,” his face is instantly tucked into the crook of your neck, hot breath against your skin, causing you to shiver and clench around him. “so pretty, my pretty lady,” he continues, hands running up and down your thighs before he’s wrapping them around his waist for you, body lowering more onto yours.
you gasp into his shoulder, the action of his body pressing down onto you causes his cock to sink deeper. “baby,” you whine, biting his shoulder, hands running up and down his back, moving to his sides just to feel the hotness of his skin before they’re moving back up and around his back; the muscle is hard beneath your touch.
his thrusts are slow and gentle, the thick vein on the underside of his cock throbs against your walls, rough hands slide down your legs and over your hips. his ragged breaths and groans vibrate against your neck and the sharpness of your nails sink into his back. “my pretty baby, so sweet and soft,” he murmurs once more, teeth nipping at your neck. “you’re so perfect, so mine.”
he’s gone, that much you realise, and you also realise he’s not even phased by the way your nails continue to rake up and down his back each time he grinds into you, his mind and body focused on how good you feel wrapped around his cock, how you feel so pliable beneath him. those same hands that make you feel safe no matter what, grip your hips tighter once his pace gets more faster.
“m’yours,” you choked out, the sound a mixture between a moan and a sob; either way it goes straight to his head, panting into your now sweaty neck. “all yours, honey please.”
“you’re so perfect, m’so lucky to have you,” he can’t stop, his fingers sinking deeper into your hips and nose sliding up and down your neck.
the plap plap plap of skin slapping echo the room, your ankles locked tightly around him, heels pressing into his lower back each time he drags his cock out, enough to make you whine, before sliding right back in, the tip of his cock catching onto the spot inside you that has stars behind your ears and toes curling. “feels ‘shoo good,” you moan, hips moving on their own accord to meet his thrusts.
your arm wraps around his neck, holding him close to you and you moan, gasp and whine into his ear softly. his sweaty body sticks to yourself like glue, if anything his grip on your hips tighten, lips attaching to your neck hungrily. “so warm, holy shit” his voice slurs slightly, one hand quickly moving between your bodies where he finds your throbbing clit. “so wet,” his fingers work slowly, drawing figure eights on the bud, groaning each time you clench around his cock. “you’re so fucking perfect, fuck honey.”
his words melt your heart, makes your eyelids flutter closed just for a second; or longer, you can’t tell anymore, basking in his love and affection. “mmm love you,” you gasp, nails sinking into the skin of his shoulder.
“love you more,” he pants, lifting his head from your neck and pressing his forehead to yours, eyes hooded. “love you so much, my best girl, pretty wife.”
you cry out against his cheek, walls fluttering around his cock once again at his words, never fails to make you shy and happy no matter how many times he says it. “more, need more, please, honey—”
“wanna feel you, need to feel you, just for a little linger—ohmygod,” another particular thrust of his hips has your legs tightening around him and a deep rumble from his throat causes his pace to falter for just a split second. “pussy was made for me, you were made for me, baby, hm? yeah? lemme feel you for longer, need to, mmmm, that’s it.”
“can’t, need you to move faster.”
his lips curl up into a smirk and you cling to his shoulder tighter when he moves his head towards your neck again, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “lemme play with you a little longer, baby, yeah?”
Synopsis. Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. Then everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked.
You knew of Geto Suguru before he was the Fire Lord responsible for tearing apart the nations, you knew of Geto Suguru before his name was soaked in rage and dragged through battle: the banished prince with a sad smile. You knew of Geto Suguru because…you were his first love. And his only.
And now you’re arranged to marry him. But it’s not a ceremony of love; you want revenge—and Geto carnally needs you.
Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!Waterbender!reader, Firebender!Geto, Avatar: The Last Airbender AU, Fire Nation prince!Geto, past, best friends once, school shenanigans, fortune tellers, PLOT letters, hurt and comfort, poIitical schemes, Naoya gets what he deserves, Fire Lord!Geto, water generaI!reader, sIight enemies-to-Iovers, best friends-to-Iovers, getting together, arranged marriages, poIitical marriages, peace, wedding nights, oraI (fem rec.), pússydrúnk Geto, spítting, p sIapping, fíngering, Geto’s LONG tongue, lNNAPROPRlATE USE OF BENDING POWERS, impact pIay, sIight knifepIay(?), just sorta holding it to his throat, dilemmas, tension, he’s DESPERATE, matíng presses, manhandIing, confessions, REALLY gone Geto, p talking, cIit pinching, teasing, sIight praise and degrad, powers going out of control, creampíes, cúmpIay, sIight cúmfIation, HAPPY ENDING, vioIence and bIood, pet names, swéaring.
Word count. 16.0k
A/N. AAAAAAAAAND look where those Zuko scenes get us smh- based on my Fire Lord!Geto headcanon here <3
“There is someone in your heart.”
For the first time since entering Lady Tsukumo’s quarters; you’re alert. The room is oblong and alluring—it wore its candles around the perimeter like jewellery, and swathed itself in a scarf of smoke. The saturated smell of jasmine clung to the air, and you have to shake your head just to focus on the woman before you.
Here, on Mount Inferno, there isn’t much to look forward to.
The Fortune Teller’s hut drew you in like a mistress, and told you things just as rousing.
Orange candles leak. Prayer beads rattle. Dissolute shadows dance to an inaudible tune, then creep closer towards you in search of touch. She closes her eyes and whispers to her spirits—around you, the thick smoke screen writhes like a snake. It coils like an ouroboros.
Almost wrapping around your ankles- keeping you in one place.
As a smile spreads across her handsome face. “You love him, do you not?”
You feel splashed with cold water.
“I…”
“Or perhaps that’s too soon…” She trails off and looks deeply into your palm once more, humming to herself. “Yes, far too soon…”
“I don’t understand.” And you’re sure the hint of crossness seeps its way into your tone- if not, then your expression. This was your third and final year at Mount Inferno, and your friends had finally convinced you to pay a visit to the famous fortune teller—you’d put it off long enough, tomorrow you’d be graduating.
Tomorrow, you’d be leaving this mountain - and everyone you met atop it.
A long-extinct volcano, though life still bubbled at its peak.
Columns of paper. Red headbands. The sound and trundle of mastery in pursuit. The best of the best; from all nations far and wide, every tribe, every village, students are summoned to the Fire Nation to study at the ancient Mount Inferno. For three years until adulthood. The school was scattered across the Inferno volcano range, deep amongst curdling springs and prickly growth, the pride of the Fire Nation, with its courtyard situated on the very highest peak. It was a truce between nations- and more than that, an intermingling of the future’s most famed. Some students have gained reputations for their powers before even starting here, and it had been somewhat jarring to see all these big, big names come to real life before you.
There was the Waterbending child prodigy that turned water into ambrosia - Ieri Shoko. There was the heir to the Earthbending Zenin family, nobles recently handpicked as ambassadors for the Fire Nation royals, pompous yet powerful (you and Shoko dunked him into one of the cold springs on your first day). Even more, there was Masamichi Yaga, the renowned Earthbending master, as your teacher.
And most of all, there was Geto Suguru: prince of the Fire Nation.
Or at least, he was in blood.
Though in name…it was murmured and known across every tribe that there was bad blood between the Fire Lord and the prince. He was the sole heir. He was their hope. He was their future- and yet, the first cracks in the picture-perfect royal family were shown when Geto had been sent to Mount Inferno.
Normally, imperial members were honed to become the deadliest of weapons in the confines of their palaces. Private tutors, techniques, and rigorous training hours you couldn’t even imagine.
No one knew the exact reason, but the message was clear enough.
You yourself had gotten your invitation (more like summons) to Mount Inferno the day after.
Your parents had yelped in joy and told the village elders; the first student in a hundred years to be called from the most revered of the Fire Nation from your little tribe, they celebrated for seven days and nights.
And on Mount Inferno is where you met Geto Suguru.
In your first year. Walking along Mount Inferno; head held high and his air untouchable even in punishment. Students - from first-years to third-years - looked but didn’t speak. Hair down to his shoulders, tied. Robes lined with golden. Equally as golden shoes stepped down the gravelly pathway in a painfully trained staccato, and they were just about to pass you like the rest of them before—
A droplet of water leapt out and splashed Prince Geto’s golden shoes.
You and Shoko had just dunked Naoya’s head into the cold springs anew- thrice for talking garbage about women in the first place, once more for each time he refused to apologize.
You wouldn’t kill the idiot, of course- you’d just teach him a lesson. At fifteen he should know better.
And this was about the twenty-third time and your arm had grown tired from holding down the stupid aristocrat—but you weren’t going to give up on making him eat his words any time soon, alright? Especially not now. Especially not after all he’d said. It didn’t matter if you had to miss orientation and stay here until Yaga had to drag you away- you’d only go kicking and screaming.
And perhaps ‘accidentally’ throwing a first at the damn Zenin brat who-
“Whaddaya staring at?” So, needless to say, you weren’t the happiest of benders when you caught stopping and staring at you less than a foot away.
The spring was on one side of the path leading to the courtyard, and any student walking could easily have avoided it altogether - most did. Most flickered their eyes to the commotion and flickered them away even faster, either not wishing to get involved or not wishing to help Naoya of all people. You see, he’d already made an impression.
One that’d left you slightly more than just cranky- “You wanna be next or what?” You glowered at the long-haired boy. You wouldn’t be expelled just for this- you and Shoko doubted anyone would speak on behalf of the Zenin tyrant anyways. Besides, this was before your first lesson, and if you two weren’t recognized as students yet—then there was technically no expulsion to be done, right?
But to your surprise, Shoko reached across Naoya’s bent-over body to elbow you. “Oi- shut your mouth if you wanna keep it.”
Narrowing your eyes suspiciously at her, “Why?” You’d just met the girl today, but you had an inkling you’d be good friends.
“Don’t you know who that is-”
“Should I?”
She looked at you with widened, disbelieving brown eyes. And it seemed as though she was about to continue-
But before that, the boy casually cocked his head to the side. His deep, charcoal-black hair framed his aristocratic face in a way that looked like a picture. “You’re both Waterbenders, correct?”
You and Shoko shared a look. “Yes…?” She answered. Both Waterbenders; though from different tribes - Shoko was of more nomadic origins, the village of water healers. Whilst yours was a quieter, more diminutive tribe of fishermen and marine waterbenders—you grew up with honed steel and the scent of blood. If you cut yourself, then the strongest healer was several villages away.
The elite-ling before you surely grew up with padded cushions and perfume to make your eyes roll. That irritation weighed down your brows, “What’s it to you?”
His eyes flitted between the two of you, before ultimately resting on you. And to your surprise, he smiled- smiled.
Long and feline.
Ear to gauged ear.
That was the first time Geto Suguru ever smiled at you. Had you known that at some point in your future, those smiles would grow so rare and ravishing, then you would have counted your blessings more scrupulously.
But back then, you’d merely blinked.
And he’d been feeling a tendril of black hair between his fingers, scrutinizing, before he threw it over his shoulder. “Oh, nothing.” He began to walk off without even a single glance backward, “Seeing as you two are Waterbenders, I was just hoping you two didn’t know that my friend Naoya here has a certain…aversion for sharks. That’s all.”
You and Shoko looked at each other once more.
And it would have sounded like yet another goad- it would have. But you and Shoko looked at each other with a whole new understanding—huh…is that so? And whilst she held Naoya down, you reached your dominant hand out and concentrated on the spring water with all your might. The ripples of it. The drowning texture. Power coursed through you, aqueous, and in the absence of its shape- you bent the water into the shape of a gaping shark underneath.
And made it dart straight for Naoya dunked underneath.
Bubbles erupted furiously on the surface of the water as he screamed and thrashed- yet you and Shoko only held him down harder. Held him down until the dagger-like teeth of the ‘shark’ were but mere centimeters from his face—
Then - and only then - do you pull him out by his close-cropped brown hair.
The pinkish face of the Zenin heir gasped for air, and through blubbers, through tears, through swears, he somehow managed out. “I-I’m sorry—!” He clenched his eyes shut, “Fuck- I’m sorry, I won’t say women should walk three steps behind…”
Your fingers dug into his collar even tighter.
“I mean-” He quickly rectified, pathetically shaking both the water and the thought out of his head. Like this, you couldn’t help but snort at him. “I won’t say…such things ever again-” His beady eyes slid to the side and narrowed at you, “Just- please- let me go—”
“Sure.” You eyed him just as wickedly, “If you admit it now that women and other folk can be just as powerful benders as men?” In support, the water gurgled and whirled into a conspicuously-shaped jaw. A shark.
Naoya sputtered, “Y-yes—yes. Women and- o-others can be just as powerful benders as men.” Thrashing even harder, “Please let me go—!”
“Sure thing.” You glanced at Shoko. And at the same time, you both unhanded Naoya’s twisted-up arms and let him fall face-first into the spring with a deafening splash! Cheekily, the water shaped at your whim into the open maw of a shark just as he plummeted. Hungry.
And it was all Naoya could do to let out a high-pitched squeal as he fell into the sharp-toothed, watery abyss. He crash-landed into the spring once more and scrambled to his feet, pushing past other students as he scurried in the opposite direction.
You and Shoko hooted at him the entire way down, only stopping once you lifted your head and caught—
Just a glimpse of amethyst eyes.
Before he turned back around, long hair swaying from side-to-side as he made his way up those steep stone steps. The number of students still making their way up were diminishing, and the first bell was likely to ring soon- but you stood there frozen in your red and black Mount Inferno robes, a blue gem fastened to your belt. Looking after a boy with a red gem attached to his own. “Shoko…who was that?”
“You seriously didn’t know?” She picked her satchel up from where it’d been discarded by some shrubbery on the pathway, and looked at you closely. “That’s the crown prince, Geto Suguru.”
The myth. The prodigy. The disgrace.
“The Geto Suguru?” You asked.
She nodded seriously.
How odd it was that a boy that elicited such a reaction would be the only one to save you two seats for the courtyard orientation. How odd it was that he’d whisper little facts to you about the lost Airbender at your first lesson.
How odd it was that Geto Suguru, the punished fire prince, became your best friend.
He was attached to you by the hip, practically.
He was part of you enough.
Goading you into training long nights at the dojos, throwing spirals of water and fire shooting off cliffsides and seeing who could send them the farthest, helping you discover new springs on Mount Inferno (then promptly pushing you into them), whispering schemes to dunk Naoya or another one of his misogynistic reverse-harem again. For teachers, there was a higher chance of finding you both as a unit - and a trio with Shoko - than finding either one separated.
Which also meant that punishments for breaking one of the Fire Nation’s 80,000 rules was also handed out as a collective.
You win some, you lose some.
Though he’d been off at some meeting or the other with bending master Yaga when Shoko - your other best friend - convinced you to make a dash for it- just a last hurrah. Down the volcano to fortune teller Tsukumo, in and out, before anyone ever notices that you broke curfew. After graduation tomorrow you might never see her again—this was your last chance.
Though she was a Waterbender, Lady Tsukumo was known to be nomadic.
And with Shoko’s urgency buzzing in your ears, and the never-ending uncertainty of what life held after graduation nagging at you- you made the descent.
Which is where you found yourself being heartily laughed at by the blond-haired bender, her head thrown back and her candles flickering - it made it seem as though even the shadows were having a guffaw at your expense.
“Don’t understand?” She asks, what seems like much later. She wipes away a mirthful tear at the corner of her eyes and looks at you in bewilderment, “Don’t understand—? Oh, of course, you don’t understand- tied for first place in scores with the prince, and yet you don’t understand, hm?”
You gape, “How did you-”
“A teller always knows.” The older woman winks, and pulls your palm closer for her to examine. “Tell me now, my dear, what is your type?”
“My- my type—” Sputtering.
“Yes, yes-” Lady Tsukumo tuts impatiently, “Your type. And be specific.”
And even though there was no one here but the two of you- you couldn’t help but cast a sidelong glance around the room. Feeling your heartbeat start to pick up, “I suppose…someone kind. Someone smart- emotionally smart. Someone that loves me for m-”
“Booooooring—!” She announces.
And your jaw just- drops.
What the…
Gaze wide as a mad glint creeps into her eyes. Shoko, you shall never be forgiven. “E-excuse me-”
“You’re excused.” Lady Tsukumo - you wondered whether she had given the title to herself - waves a hand breezily your way. She continues looking down at your upward-facing palm, “Now here’s what I actually see about your type-”
You gulp.
“Tall.”
Alright.
“A powerful bender.”
Well, alright.
“Handsome- no, gorgeous.” She looks most excited at that one—“Long hair. Pretty face. The stuff you write songs about.”
Well, certainly alright…
She turns your palm from side-to-side to capture every angle- then presses two fingers to your wrist and listens to your pulse. Lady Tsukumo’s eyes close. “Hmmm.” She pauses and listens, “And it’s exactly who you have in mind.”
You gasp-
And her eyes sparkle with excitement before—
“I-I didn’t have anyone in mind-”
“Liiiiiiies~!” The blonde-haired woman proudly announces. Before digging her polished nails even deeper into your pulse and seemingly reaping every sweet secret held inside. “I sense tension. I sense confessions long held. I sense agony-” Catching the look in your eyes, “Oh- but the good kind.”
She beams and you narrow your eyes suspiciously at her.
“The good kind- I promise…at least for me to read in here about.” And before you can call her out on it, she presses even harder. “I sense…a wedding here in the Fire Nation.”
And beside yourself, you can feel something at the pit of your stomach lurch. “A w-wedding—?”
She nods, “A royal wedding.” Having successfully put that little hiccup aside, she only grows more excited now. “With public announcements and a national holiday…you’ll wear the traditional Fire Nation garments-” To which you frown, as you’ve always loved the thought of getting married in your own traditional clothes. “-and the feast will be merry and plentiful. And at the end of the night…”
Suddenly, she stops.
A little furrow forms between her brows.
In silence, Lady Tsukumo runs her hand up and down your forearm as though playing the harp. Counting your pulse. Reading your veins. Almost to your elbow. Pressing harder at your wrist to confirm—
“There will be death.”
The words pierce right through you- you feel faint.
But Lady Tsukumo’s grip on your hand is unyielding. She’s almost breaking through skin with her nails - “Death is lonely here.” By now, her hazel eyes are shot wide open and staring right through you - unseeing - as she continues almost in a daze—“A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand. Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.”
Those all-seeing eyes of her close.
“In blood as we are borne, two worlds reunite under life and death.”
The candles hush.
Darkness.
By the time that Lady Tsukumo has waved them back alight again, you still have your hand reached out and your palm facing upwards. Though the tips of your fingers have started reaching inwards - they remind you of the fire lilies that Geto snuck you out to watch blossom your first year. Shoko had been caught cheating by Yaga and made to do revisions whilst you two explored. A valley of them between the furthest peaks of your school: they were the most beautiful things you’ve ever seen. And so you’d returned.
Your second year. And then your third year.
Though they were ephemeral - just a few weeks of blossoming per year before they crumpled.
And with it, something else crumples, too.
Tsukumo Yuki softly intertwines your fingers with hers and squeezes. Then she says in a soft voice, “I’ll tell you a little secret, young Waterbender. Just as you reshape the water, you have the power to shape your own destiny.”
The night is different when you’re finally stepping out.
Crisp and cool; almost to a sharp fault. The door to the fortune teller closes behind you with a click! and you’re standing upon her step- looking up at the moon.
“I know you’re there, Suguru.”
And from the darkness emerges a playful groan. “How did I pass stealth lessons again?”
You chuckle, “I just know you too well.”
“I’ll say. Shoko told me you came down here so I thought I’d come to escort you.”
Geto Suguru - eighteen just like you - steps into view underneath Lady Tsukumo’s hanging lanterns; admired so ardently by flying termites that flutter around the light in infatuation until their wings fall off mid-flight, and they drop to the floor—crawling around in bafflement as they try to reach their radiant lover once more before they inevitably die.
Under that same light, you’re taking him in.
It’s been quite some time since you’d splattered spring water over the young prince’s golden shoes- and Geto Suguru has grown considerably since then.
His hair had gotten longer. His smile just a little more feline. The princeling you’d had to look down at to speak had hit a sudden growth spurt once he’d reached about halfway through your first year. First to become lanky. And then his body had given him about two more surges in his second year just for the hell of it, just to leave him amongst the tallest in the grade.
And it didn’t matter how tall you yourself were- Geto was at least a head taller and it honestly got on your nerves a little that you now had to raise your head to speak with him.
Your best friend.
Your best friend…right?
Third year was when he started filling his frame out more.
It honestly wasn’t something you thought about until you just-so-happened to notice - and once you did, you just couldn’t seem to stop.
Because Firebender Geto had always been painstaking about keeping his training schedule rigid, keeping his techniques exceptional, never dropping below a cool #1 in Firebending ranks. Never one to fall behind, that was what influenced you to claw up to #1 yourself in Waterbending- and though Shoko wasn’t the type to take things as seriously as the two of you - at least not outwardly - you could tell that she put a certain amount of ‘effortless’ effort into maintaining #2 in Waterbending. But of course, #1 in all healing lessons.
He was one of the earliest to master Firebending.
And it was exactly those extra hours of training and duels that left you a honed warrior- and Geto…someone that was hard to keep your eyes off of.
All that height? He was now padding on extra muscle n’ heft to make his frame much more intimidating - like those royal warriors you’d see mentioned in history classes. Corded shoulders. Defined pecs. Chiselled abs.
Little by little; training sessions with your best friend had begun getting a lot harder when he’d take his helmet off to let his long, river-like black hair cascade down his shoulders. Sticking to his forehead. Pushed out of his thoroughly pretty face. Glistening with sweat—Geto would pant as he tears through the sizzling layers of his armor, bearing more and more skin than you think you could bear-
You once did.
Before everything got so…strange. Whenever Geto would take off his armor - complaining about it being too hot to duel - you’d merely used to throw your helmet at him and do the same.
But now when he was calling your name, breath ragged, staring at you with half-lidded exhausted eyes…
The one thing that ran through your mind was how his waist was so grabbable-
Before you know it, the real-life Geto Suguru is leaning down and giving your forehead a good flick. And the thing about him is that he doesn’t hold back, either, so you’re left paying for the absence of your own caution.
Your best friend.
Your best friend.
Your best friend.
Whining as you rub over that spot, “I’m killing you.” The two of you begin heading the treacherous trek up the volcano. “I’m going to finally report you to Yaga for stealing his prized kale cookies- I swear.”
“Sure thing.” He smiles that feline smile, “Just make sure to add that you ate about half of them, too.”
“On second thought, why steal and tell?”
Geto laughs into the night at that. And you can’t help but turn your head and watch him—so free and unabashed.
It makes something fuss at the back of your mind- “Hey, Suguru…”
He turns to you, profile illuminated by the pale moonlight. “Yeah?”
“What’d Yaga have to say to you?” You ask—it wasn’t like a teacher to set a meeting so late, and especially right before graduation. Attempting at a joke- “He isn’t failing you or anything, right? It’s nothing serious?”
“As much as I’d love to join you as a super senior—” You snort. You both knew you were making the speech as class first tomorrow. “-no. It wasn’t anything serious.”
Looking to him for more information.
To which Geto merely looks at you and smiles- he had this little quirk where sometimes his eyes went completely shut as he smiled. And you honestly hadn’t thought of it too much until now. Now…you think it’s the type of thing where one could write a song about it-
“We just talked about the security measures for when my father arrives.” Geto ultimately sighs, amethyst eyes straight ahead. “Royal visitor and all those tedious things…”
Your lips part, “Ah…” Right. The Fire Lord himself.
“Honestly, I didn’t even think he’d come.” And though he sounds casual about it- you can tell there’s real weight behind Geto’s words. After a few more steps, he turns the questioning onto you. “What about you? What made you decide to go to the fortune teller after all this time?”
You shrug, “Change of pace? Shoko wanted me to do so- ah.”
“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”
And that—that makes you feel so many things at once. So many.
The excitement. The elation. The heart-stopping moment. The crush. They’re all slamming into you at once- and it’s a complete miracle that you’re able to get out…“Honestly…not much. Guess m’not that predictable, huh?”
Geto speaks slowly, “Is that so…”
“What about you?” Turning curiously to him, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you going down there?”
He breaths out a silver cloud into the cool night air, “I have once. My first day here.”
And that makes your brows raise- you’ve never known…“What’d she say?” Your heart races, and your palms feel sweaty when they clench—
“Honestly?” Geto leans in close- reeeeeally close. He brings his face towards yours - and there’s a brief moment where his gaze drops down to your lips—you think he’s going to do it. You think he’s going to close the distance. You think he’s going to kiss you. You think he’s going to prove every premonition right and wrong and so right at the same time. “Not much.” Before he’s pulling back his index and flicking your forehead once more.
You summon a nearby spring to fashion into an oversized fan, and chase him with it all the way up to the dorms.
He laughs the entire way.
Tomorrow was graduation, but every tomorrow after would still be the same.
Would it not?
.
.
.
You wake with a gasp.
You wake to the drums of war.
The morning awakening. The rhythmic beating of a scorned heart. It punctured and pierced and honed itself against the coarse air of the Fire Nation; the crescendo of your traditional drums, followed by the chanting of your nation’s most valiant benders, and the undercurrent of melee when scimitars met jaw blades. You’d gotten used to the sickening crunch of bones being fitted back into place, though the cries of your people still left your stomach churning.
Like prey in wait, the world of battle never really slept.
Just last week, the Earthbenders had made the journey from their encampment to yours—and by now the gashing of boulders, the screeching of metal, and the accretion of unique war cries had become accompaniments to such mornings, too.
Rousing.
Dust erupted from the savanna plains and a thin layer of it rained down on you from the gaps in your tent. You’re blinking awake at the flood of pus-yellow light, and raising your head off the table- you’d fallen asleep poring over your war plans yet again.
You can’t remember the last time you slept in a bed - a bed, let alone a comfortable one. But such things were frivolities at a time like this. Everything could be far, far worse.
You’re leafing through the yellowed parchments on muscle memory, embossed with the insignia of every Earth and Water tribe in the land. There were many such papers; each one differing in only slight revisions, though with the same contents and proposition addressed to the Fire Lord. Your once-friend.
It’s been nine years since you graduated at the top of Mount Inferno—Geto had been standing right beside you that day as Earthbending master Yaga announced your class as he’d announced you all as the new generation of bending masters. The future. The hope. And you exchanged a look with Shoko and Geto that day, tenderness churning within your chest when it sank in that this would be the last time you’d be standing in this courtyard like this. The last time that Mount Inferno would truly ever be yours.
And so you nodded- you’d planned for this moment for a long time.
As Yaga finished his speech, you kept your hands behind your back and flicked them- just a flick. Enough to summon droplets of clear, glistening water from every surrounding spring.
They rose high above your heads and half-crystallized in ice—like diamond shards. Shoko hovered her hand and manipulated the water particles in the air to spread them out across the entire courtyard, and Geto lazily waved his hand to increase the temperature. To make the icicles suddenly pop! and rain down - refracting with the daylight to create a brilliant rainbow above you all.
As the audience awed and gasped then, Geto had stepped - just a single step - closer to you. His shoulders brushed your own, and you remember the tip of his littlest finger grazing yours—barely there.
Before Geto had caught the eye of his father - tunneling through him with his vicious stare - and the heir had stepped away.
Your hands had chased his touch, his warmth then.
But you should’ve known- that should’ve been your first sign.
No matter how many times you promised to write and keep in touch with your two best friends; only one of them responded. Letter after letter to the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace - and all of them went unanswered.
Though, even years later, you were writing.
You hadn’t lost hope- at least, not until your village elder one day asked whether you weren’t invited to the crowning. Whose crowning? Oh, Prince Geto’s crowning as the Prince Regent, of course. His father had become bedridden, and he was overseeing the nation without being formally crowned yet.
That was how you found out.
Seven days after Geto’s induction as the regent, the Fire Nation attacked.
It was on a group of peaceful air nomads that were already far and few between. Then came the villages. Then came the towns. Ultimately—you remember hearing whispers that Lord Geto was actually the one that poisoned his father in hopes of seizing the crown. The Fire Nation had no King for now, though it did have a monster.
In just a few years, life as you knew it was set aflame.
You can’t remember what exactly you’d said in your last letter to him, but you were sure it was some mangled mess of disbelief and threats. You wondered where that old Geto you knew went, you promised you’d make him pay for what he’s done…be it whether you were arrested and charged for treason or not. You never were.
You went through a mountain of papers trying to write something coherent.
And when you finally had it arranged to be sent, you joined the rebels.
Over the course of years, you trained and toughened. You fought your opponents hard and you fought yourself even harder—you knew that Geto Suguru had eyes everywhere across the land. You calloused, you bled, you fell. There was no time to grow gradually used to the ugliness of battle, you were thrust straight into it and forced to grow wiser than your ages. You knew he must know you’ve joined the building uprisings against him.
And you couldn’t disappoint your old classmate, could you?
They granted ascending titles for every one thousand enemy attacks one diverted. At the age of twenty-seven, you were general of the Waterbending faction.
And the battle was becoming decisive.
On one side of the tent was a picture of him from your schooling days - eyes crossed out, and pins and daggers stabbed into him whenever you and your war generals mulled over plans. And at your feet lay the half-melted remains of ice blades you’d been training with.
Sometimes, when the nights were really quiet (as quiet as a battle camp could be), you fashioned sharp streams of water and sent them jetting straight at that picture. Just like you and Geto used to in competition, on a cliffside so long ago.
Only now, there was no laughter.
As you’re straightening up, a rough canvas blanket falls off your shoulders—Shoko must have entered some time during the night and put this over you. Of course she would.
Always a healer, no matter what.
You’re holding the fabric close to you for a few seconds before letting go. A general had to carry only what was needed.
Freshening yourself up with the shallow basin of sun-warmed water at the corner of your tent, you’re donning your sea-blue cloak and walking past the tent flaps. Midday Sun licks at your skin as you step outside.
The Sun in the Fire Nation always seemed hotter than the one in your land, but right now it was the only thing you could feel. You turn your face up to it in greeting and breathe in deeply.
Your brief moment of respite is suddenly shattered by a call of your name - urgent. The sound of an approaching horse. Alarmed; your eyes shoot open and your hand immediately falls to the bone knife fastened to your waist, dropping only once you recognize the approaching men as one of your own—his blue cloak flutters in the wind.
As he nears, you register his wide eyes and his pallid face.
A cold sweat seemed to coat his features despite it being scorching out. And once he’s close enough, other warriors stop his horse by the reins- and he all but collapses onto the ground. Crawling on all fours to you—before you’re waving away your soldiers and helping the man stand up yourself.
“Ijichi.” You support him up and firmly tap the side of his sallow cheeks, “Ijichi! Get yourself together, soldier. What happened?”
As a non-bender, Ijichi was still an integral part of your battle. He was your messenger - and your most trusted one, at that. He was the one that’d successfully delivered your last letter to Geto as your friend, and your first letter to him as Lord: the proposition. You knew Geto wouldn’t lay a hand on Ijichi, no matter what the contents of your letters were.
He knew how just dear your friends were to you- he knew very well.
“He…he…” Ijichi’s pale lips tremble.
Your pulse races. There was only ever one he that could deign such a reaction- “What happened—” Signalling one of the nearby warriors to hand a flask of water over, you wet his mouth with it. Lightly shaking him. “Speak, soldier-”
“H-he has an answer, general.” Ijichi sputters. Hand weakly gesturing towards his satchel-
Your soldiers tear open that brown hide satchel and present you with the sole thing inside—a smooth, strong parchment tied up in a red velvet ribbon. Though it didn’t have the signature embosses and the gaudy golden envelopes that most communication with the palace did, there was no doubt that it was of imperial origins. The only difference was in the way it seemed to be from the hand of the Regent himself, rather than any old elder…
This was straight from Geto.
And you have to be careful not to display the slight quiver at your fingertips as you open it-
‘My dearest best friend,
It has been accepted.
Yours, Suguru.’
Though the handwriting itself was far different from what you remembered his to be. But people change.
“What is it, general?” One of the warriors pipes up from the gathering crowd. The Earthbending masters and other commanders have joined, too.
And you’re looking straight ahead - at no one and everyone in particular - as you just give a single…simple…nod.
Lord Geto Suguru has accepted your marriage proposal.
.
.
.
Riiiiiip—!
You’re clenching your jaw and fisting your hands together as a Fire Nation attendant tears out wax strips smeared down your legs, yanking out the hair underneath. She stares in wonderment for a brief moment, before starting to do the same on your hands.
A scream strangles in your throat.
The journey from the camp to the palace hadn’t been too extensive, and you’d arrived to the roar of trumpets and the wariness of the Fire Nation public. The palace announcement itself had been shaky- but they had to open the doors to you.
They had to.
You were their future Queen, after all.
Just perhaps not what they expected.
Scrubbing and plucking you raw, honey glazes, and milk baths. They’d taken special offense to that little callous between your thumb and index from holding a sword too much.
They’d attempted to scrub it away and failed.
Who would’ve thought that years of battle meant that other things took priority over a little waxing and powdering? Apparently the poor, pampered asses of ‘war’ generals in the Fire Nation’s Royal Palace couldn’t stand any evidence of the raging battles that took place outside their numerous gilded walls—perhaps guilt or inconvenience? Possibly the latter, you doubted they had a conscience. And thus, you hadn’t made it two steps inside the sprawling palace before you were whisked away by a cloud of attendants. To be made into an imitation of something you weren’t.
You’d seen the way they looked at you- as if you dirtied the palace with your mere presence. To your surprise, it seems a majority of the council had long since been taken over by the Zenin elders.
It seems that Zenin Naoya had made a name for himself as the head advisor.
That fool couldn’t advise a cow to moo.
You hadn’t even gotten to see Geto yet - and here you were already being prepared for your wedding.
If it were up to you, you’d forgo all this levity and carry out the plan here and now. You’d barge past all these plumes of dresses and golden antiques, and—
“Now for your perfuming, Your High- ah, I suppose not yet.” The orange-haired girl smiles to herself as she fogs you with some expensive perfume.
You crinkle your nose and expect the worst - some throat-clogging, saturated scent that makes you gag…but what meets you is the soft undercurrent of the ocean, of jasmine, of memories long-gone and hidden. And your eyes are shooting open in surprise.
“It’s good, hm?” She nods excitedly at your reaction. “His Highness had it concocted specially for today.”
“I didn’t take Geto to be the perfumeering type.”
She laughs softly to herself and you look up in curiosity. “Oh- sorry.” Bowing ever-so-slightly—you’re hurrying to tell her that she didn’t need to. “It’s just that…my lady, you refer to His Highness so intimately yet it seems you have not the faintest idea. Lord Geto is the one that has chosen everything for this wedding; from the perfumes to the flowers, to your dress. Oh! Though such strict…presentation aspects were demands from the council.”
Eyes darting to meet her warm honey-brown ones in surprise.
“He had it all thought out, my lady.” She finishes.
“That…” Your lips part. “I don’t understand.” You turn around and let the silk overcoat glide against your skin like a second one, “How does a monster have time to plan a wedding?”
She gasps and skirts her eyes around—as though merely speaking in here could land her in the dungeons. And you wouldn’t be surprised if it did.
The girl looks at you with pleading eyes- about to say something, but you’re shaking your head reassuringly. “It’s alright. You don’t have to answer.”
With a relieved sigh, she goes back to moisturizing and massaging your aching limbs.
“But tell me this-” You continue, as the silence prolongs. “-how did so many of the Zenin family find posts in the palace? Last I knew, it was just Naoya’s father that had a position here.”
“As head advisor, yes.” She nods. “The Zenin advisors have only increased in number and notoriety. Before we even knew it, they went from just one in the palace- to now having the entire family in power.”
You hesitate, “Regent Geto’s doing?”
“Not at all.” To your surprise, she shakes her head. “It started when His Highness Geto Suguru was banished as a prince- that was when the family first came to power. And in the three years of his schooling, they’d only increased. When the young prince returned, there was no extracting them. They controlled it all…or so the old palace keepers whisper.”
Your brows furrow, “Is that so…”
Looking around nervously once more—surely rehashing the palace history wasn’t a crime? “And they also whisper that…” She leans in close, half-covering her mouth conspiratorially. “There’s something strange about Advisor Naobito being the only one to serve His Majesty the King with his breakfasts- but His Highness doesn’t seem to care.”
Shivers down your spine.
“I-I see.”
You do.
You really do.
Nearby, the in-chamber water fountain starts to bubble. The girl gasps and looks between you and it-
That’s what makes you snap out of it - shaking your head and looking up at her with a slight smile. “My apologies. What’s your name?”
She hesitates, likely wondering whether you were going to report her for divulging so much information. But whatever she sees in your face seems to convince her that you’re not like them- you’re not like the Zenins. And she answers, “Kugisaki. Nobara Kugisaki.”
Nobara keeps you company until another flurry of attendants arrive - and soon enough, you find yourself dolled-up in countless layers of red and white silk. Golden patches and embroidery on your sleeves, nimbly designed into visions of mountaintops and fire lilies, the emblem of the Geto family on your back—it bore heavy. You were surprised - you expected more of his name upon you. Your face is painted. You’re perfumed once more. Roses were woven into your hair, and your feet are slipped into golden sandals.
It hurt that your own tribe’s name wasn’t anywhere on your outfit.
When you tried reaching for the sea-blue cloak you loved - not as lavish as the Fire Nation’s robes, but your most prized possession - the attendants had shook their heads.
Still, you tucked it into the wide circumference of your sleeves nonetheless.
As those double doors opened and you were led outside, some of your guards stationed outside - in case of any funny business - froze. Shoko smiled sadly. Ijichi’s jaw dropped—
And you weren’t sure how to feel about everyone reacting to you like so.
The procession was long and mind-numbing with luxury; it gets to a point before opulence becomes vile. And in the Fire Nation, most weddings were status symbols rather than actual ceremonies of love. For the Prince Regent - the future King as far as anyone knew - most of all.
You could hear it outside.
The clothes. The music. The swell of a public that cascaded never-ending into the widespread palace courtyard and watched, and the passing of appetizers leafed with gold. Red-hot ribbons and lanterns, the oversized faces of dragons with drunk ministers atop them—throwing flowers and bits of golden paper - cymbals clashed and dancers of all sorts and music made their way into the palace pavilion. Drummers banged. Children squealed at firecrackers. In contrast, you walked quietly shouldered by your warriors and being led down the pathway to your husband.
The place where the binding ceremony would take place was the pavilion overlooking the Fire Nation public. Where the entrance of the palace was.
At the very top of a hundred stone steps, where the audience convened below.
The elders had drawn a circle of ash for you to step into.
And so you do.
Perfectly placed on display.
A hush falls over the crowd. Caught between merriment at the war ending and morbid curiosity and fear, they were chanting in dialects that you didn’t understand - though the stay word or two you’d learned through intelligence cracking made you recognize they were singing about love, about unison.
Today there would be none.
There would be blood.
Lady Tsukumo’s prediction still lingered at the back of your mind. Though you kept your eyes downward and awaited your fate.
Your fate being the tall, red-clad shadow at the edge of your peripheral vision. He stands next to you.
Your breath catches as it hits you that this was Geto- and he seemed even more broad and intimidating than you remembered. The only things you can make out: long, dark hair and arms crossed behind his back. His uniform seemed to glint with something- gold? Though you don’t look up to confirm, you’re training your eyes down at the stone steps—and feeling the man straighten up beside you.
“It’s a lot of people, isn’t it?”
You almost jolt-
Had you been any less disciplined, even an ounce, you would have darted your head upwards and gaped at him in disbelief. Here was Geto Suguru…speaking to you as if nothing ever happened.
How could he do that? How could he speak like that? What gave him the right—? The very same that broke your heart over and over- no, this was a very different Geto from the one you knew on the mountaintop. How could he stand there like this - wearing the same body, the same face, the same voice but slightly deeper, and smile at you like that-
And pretend like everything was okay?
You speak in an even tone, “It is.”
“I haven’t seen this many people since the graduation.”
Your chest hurts. “I have.” And for the first time, you’re looking at him squarely. “On the battlefields.”
And the first thought that should hit you was how much he’s changed—how his face now frames his face and cascades down his back like ink, his jaw has set into something sharper, his features have become more refined. Melted away the baby fat to reveal the handsome man within. Years of training and war have left him more chiselled than before- and even through the billowing robes of his traditional attire, you can make out the corded muscle underneath.
He’s both familiar and not. Familiar in those eyes like polished crystals peering down at you, not in the severity that hid beneath them. Geto wore the traditional red and black sokutai; not just any red, but the red of blood after its long since been spilled, of battlefields. Piqued shoulder pads. High collar. Fine gold tracing.
Even a section of his hair was bunched-up into a knot atop his head whilst the rest of it flowers, held up with a gold pin. And on his waist was a golden belt studded with…a singular blue sapphire.
He looked so much happier in your memories.
The first thought that actually - actually - hits you is that he’s grown into everything he feared he’d become.
A fiery breeze ruffles Geto’s long hair and makes him look as though a dream. Or a nightmare.
Despite what you’ve said, his gaze remains unwavering. “I see, general.”
Suddenly, the ash around you erupts in flames, like a phoenix—and the marriage rites commence.
.
.
.
You meant it when you said that Fire Nation weddings were known more for their status than their emotion.
Because the actual rites were stiff and sped-through; as though they were hurrying through the sole sentimental part of the wedding in haste to proclaim the two of you married. Once the circle of ash had been set alight, the Royal Fire Sage had appeared behind you two and boomed out invitations to the spirits and ancestors.
And then you’d been made to recite your vows to one another for the entire courtyard to hear. To make it known - to someone else if not the two of you - that you would have to cherish one another, to understand one another, and to…love one another.
Through good times and bad.
And to bring an heir.
As you repeated after him, you wondered just how much of it could have applied before.
And as the two of you finished, you were handed a porcelain sake bowl that looked dipped in gold. As though a wabi-sabi artwork, but every bit of it had been shattered. You both took three sips each of the rich, translucent liquid—promising unity.
Your hands tightened on the bowl.
And then you placed your offerings of evergreen branches as newlyweds, down on the sacred circle of ash, then clapped twice and bowed.
To the public.
The roaring cheers were deafening.
You closed your eyes tightly against the noise.
There was a reception afterwards, of course, and it was just as disgustingly lavish as you thought it would be; though as the married couple, there was rarely any time for you to eat or drink. You couldn’t indulge when there were ministers and master benders and government officials begging for your attention—most of all, you couldn’t kill when you had a plan.
But oh- did you think of bypassing that plan and going in for the strike when Zenin Naoya had come sneering to your raised table. Wishing the newlyweds a long and prosperous life together.
He spat it out like venom.
Even more so when a new attendant had wished ‘the future King and Queen’ a long and happy life together.
Other big, big names came and went. However Geto’s father wasn’t in a befitting state to make a public appearance, and you’d watched Geto’s reaction closely as this was whispered to him by one of the advisors.
He was as still as a stone statue.
But you could forgive the too-tight embraces from families attempting to woo their way into the good graces of the future monarchy, and the ministers that sloshed their sake on you. You could forgive the generals that eyed you suspiciously, and the young aristocrats that tugged on their guardians’ robes and asked which nation you were from…and whether that was allowed. You could forgive it all. You weren’t wearing your nation’s colors—and you had to smile as your soldiers bowed to you as per your royal title.
You never let them bow to you when you were their general. Just general.
You could forgive it all, because your plan started only after the wedding reception.
When the curtains were drawn, and alcohol suffused into the air. When you were beckoned by the team of attendants that readied you for the wedding, and escorted away into the privacy of the royal baths.
You wondered if it was just you who felt like some in the reception were leering like they already knew…
Readied, once more.
By the time you’re donning a sheer red robe, and guided to Geto’s sprawling princely chambers, he’s already there sitting at the edge of the bed. Back turned to you.
His armor removed and attire half-off - draping over one broad shoulder. And the other….was a pale body underneath the luminous moonlight filtering in—rippled with muscles and slightly freckled. Though they looked faded, as if he’d gained them once a long time ago and had rarely been out in the Sun since.
You could guess they were from Mount Inferno.
Tonight was to be your consummation, and you knew they’d be checking for evidence in the morning.
You walk up to the Fire Lord.
Soundless steps.
And yet, he still turns. His long, jet-black hair falls off of one shoulder and tumbles down his back like a waterfall—it’s glossy and reaches down past his waist. There’s a slight dampness to it, and you wonder whether he’d been scrubbed and perfumed down to the bone, too. You don’t know why but you mourn the way his hair covers most of his toned back.
Quickly, however, you snap yourself out of such nonsense.
You gulp and take a step closer. “I have arrived as the attendants have directed me-”
“Must we be so formal with one another?” He speaks. Geto’s tone is deeper than it was on the mountain, with a polished edge to it that spoke of years of lessons—rigorous. More mature. You think back to your first impression of him- no, it wasn’t just padded cushions and perfume after all, huh? “We’re married now, y’know.”
You’re looking up and realize there’s a smile playing at his lips.
“We are.” And your voice, too, sounds so much more mature than back then. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not strangers-”
“But we’re not.”
“We are.”
There’s a frosty silence that stretches between you two, and you’re starting to think it might last until sunrise- but then Geto puts his face in his hands and sighs. Heavy and unbroken. “At least…at least just for tonight…” Voice something so small—something that reminds you of the Geto from nine years ago. “Could we not be strangers?”
You don’t answer.
But as he stares at you - piercing through your very being - your hands move as if hypnotized to the sash of your robe. And his eyes grow murky- they grow dark—following you like a predator follows its prey.
Though which one of you was the predator, it’s hard to say.
With a single flick of your fingers, your robe is dropping off of you.
And if you thought his gaze was smoldering before, they’re practically glazed and blackened now. In almost a trance, he keeps his eyes on you and reaches his hand outwards- and murmurs in a low timbre. “Come to me.”
“Is that an order as King?”
“We both know I have no power as King.”
A plea.
You step. Silently.
And soon enough, you’re standing in front of Geto Suguru - in-between his manspread thighs. He gazed upon you, and you gaze upon him. It’s now that you’re noticing his outer layers had been stripped through, and the only thing that he’s donning now were baggy white trousers doing little to hide the muscles underneath, and a hitoe: it was a dark, draped robe that almost looked like a yukata. Loose and flowy.
Shifting aside to reveal a puffy pink nipple on his left side.
Then before you know it- you’re both pushing him back onto the bed by his shoulders—and crashing your lips into his.
And you’re not sure what you’re expecting- fuck, you’re not sure how long you’ve agonized over this very moment, but Geto’s kissing you and you’re kissing him. And it’s everything you’ve imagined in all your most innocent girlhood dreams.
He tastes of jasmine and crisp summer air - the curtains behind you flutter with a breath of cool air, and you’re gasping. It’s then that Geto takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss.
Clasping the back of your head, he angles it to one side and lets his delicious tongue inside. Exploring your mouth for a few seconds before fishing it back out n’ then leaning even closer to suck on your tongue. The moment he tastes you, he groans. “Please…”
And you think - for a brief, stupid moment - that you’ve wanted nothing more.
But Geto’s canines nip at your lower lip, and reality’s hitting you all at once. All at once.
You’re breaking the kiss with a sickeningly sweet pop! and pushing him down by his shoulders. Geto’s scorching hot pants fan your face, his long hair tickles your neck. Perhaps too afraid to look him in the eyes- to see what expression he has on now, you’re shuffling down his body. Pawing between his legs.
But just before your knees can hit the floor—an arm reaches out and stops you.
Grabbing ahold of your own, he’s pulling you up.
In split-seconds, you’re finding yourself back on the bed - this time with the positions flipped. You have your body rested against a mattress that feels like a thousand clouds. You have your cunt throbbing wildly as Geto beckons you to stay and kneels down on the bedside.
Like he’s praying.
Though the only plea he whispers is between your naked legs.
Getting swallowed up almost instantly in the cute, slobbering kiss he’s pressing against your plump, puckered lips. Just so ready for him.
Geto’s dark brows contort as your legs jerk open a bit further and your cunt’s sloshin’ out.
Lascivious ribbons of creamy slick empty out of you n’ end up dripping down his chin - it glistens underneath the cool, blueish moonlight - and you’re watching as he sticks the very tip of his tongue out to taste. You see those clouded amethyst eyes start to grow even murkier, heavy and half-lidded. He looks up at you in half-shock as the syrupy taste of your cunt enters his mouth, and the infamous Fire Lord can’t help but moan—
“Honey, I want to taste you for eternity.”
“You’re not s…oh.” Eyes clenching shut. Breath catching in your chest. Whatever you were about to say- Geto’s lappin’ the words right out of you.
With the slightest inch of his tongue squeezes in- hot and pulsing between your folds. The ridged texture of his tastebuds glue to your most sensitive parts—polishing off every ounce of the gloss that coated between your pussylips. And once he’s downed it all like the sweetest of mead, Geto purses his pink lips and spits.
A stream of glittering saliva that hits you.
You flinch-
“Too cold?” Geto’s voice just seems so loud in your eardrums. Low and so much more ruined than you remember it- it makes you blink up at him. And whatever he’s seeing in your expression, it seems to answer his question.
Because then he’s running a thumb down the wad of spit plastered to your cunt. Tap-tap-tapping.
And before you know it, you’re feeling the frigid, exposed parts of your pussy turn into something sizzling.
Fuck.
Bubblin’ over and fizzing.
He was using his powers to…your brows shoot up to your hairline.
You’re clamoring onto your elbows. You’re quaking your thighs shut- and actually getting them shoved even further apart—by both of Geto’s bulky shoulders lodging himself even further between them. His sticky, hot breaths were practically basking your cunt - and soon enough Geto’s nose-deep between them and slobberin’. “Sh-shit, now that’s unfair…”
Prolonged, open-mouthed kisses. From the tender edges of your pussylips to fishing his tongue between them- swirling inside your wet hole.
Now that he’d heated up the spittle touching your cunt, it was Geto’s time to smear it all over using his mouth and pretty face. “Mmm, not too bad, huh?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” You scoff. Raking your fingers through his raven locks.
“Ahead of myself? No, no…” Geto murmurs- and he’s purposefully doing it so the vibrations shot up your spine and made you arch into him. The crown of his tastebuds sloshed between your folds and gave you such luxurious licks prodding inwards. Flattened top. Teasing edge of his tongue. Then Geto reaches his right hand up and swats the glistening top of your cunt. Soon enough, you’re feeling the slippery layers of his saliva grow even hotter. “You need to know your place, my little Waterbender.”
“That’s general to you.” You’re tugging on a fistful of his hair. Still damp; though by now it was less with water, and more with sweat.
“General…” Geto repeats. Another swat- controlling and ebbing the heat in a way that made fogginess coil around your brain. “And do you realize that you’re in enemy territory, general? My best friend?”
“I- am aware.” Gritting out—more so because you couldn’t handle the slight whimper that threatens to crackle on the edge of your tone.
You’re dragging an even less merciful handful of his hair in retaliation- dragging and dragging until his lips almost pop off of your cunt. He’s grabbing onto you with a single hand groped underneath your ass, and such a desperate husky noise.
To his credit, you just didn’t expect Geto to moan.
But then again, he didn’t expect you to put a blade to his throat, either.
Geto’s purple eyes snap wide open at the ice-cold feeling- and the air prickles with the power of bending. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure out that you’d used the dampness of his lengthy hair - the water particles, the ravenous sweat - and melded it into a steel-hard dagger that pricked at his pale throat. Just a single gulp of his Adam’s apple leaves Geto Suguru nicked.
And crimson beads down to his robe—matching. Wedding colors.
‘A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.’
It would take just a single flick- just a single flick of your wrist to end the Fire Prince’s life right here and right now. To end this all. But you take your time to admire him…at least before the life drains out of his eyes.
That second of eye contact lasts longer than lifetimes- longer than an eternity together. Just the two of you in the royal suite. Geto’s mouth on your cunt, and your dagger at his neck—and to your surprise, he doesn’t look like he’d be anywhere else.
In fact- to your offense, he flickers his eyes down to the callous that was peaking out in the web between your dominant thumb and your index. And slowly - almost snake-like - Geto’s inching his face closer and pressing a soft kiss—right as you were holding the dagger.
Your breath hitches- it’s silent. It’s oh-so-silent.
And Geto’s darting his eyes up at the sound of it, cautiously pulling away. But not to any sort of mortal safety, of course, because when has Geto Suguru ever followed your expectations?
He’s instead maneuvering his face- and unsure where he was going, you’re following his actions with that deadly blade of yours. But the Fire Lord doesn’t run. He doesn’t beg. He doesn’t change. He merely tips his head ever-so-slightly at an angle, then sidles his hot face between your clammy thighs to…to make out with your cunt.
Make out.
Not just lapping and lickin’ like he’d been doing before.
Your mouth falls open, “Oh.”
Not just prodding away between your pussylips with the tip of his tongue.
“O-oh, fuck.”
He’s properly gaping his mouth open and massaging the forefront of your cunt with his muscle. Again and again. The thick, flattened plane of him rests on top of your pussylips n’ drags up and down, back and forth, teasing you mindless before swabbin’ his wet inches inside.
Geto’s practically glued to you- the tiptop of his tongue rovering for every sweet spot inside. Long, drunken thrusts. And with every single one, you’re reaching your arched hips upwards. “Fuck- fuck—”
The silvery tip of your dagger digs against his skin, and the prince flutters his eyes open all feline-like.
Lightning shoots through your body as you take in the utterly dazed sight of him. “You realize that I can- hah, that I can just kill you now, right?”
“I’m aware.” Languidly, he’s blinking his eyes open properly. Your pussy just tasted so good lacquering his tongue like this; in such a warm…wet layer of your sap. And the only thing the fearsome Firebender can do right now is tip his head back and let those juices drain to the back of his throat. “And it’s only makin’ me harder.”
“This?” Pressing the blade even harder. “This.”
In response he can only nod.
Nod and nod and nudge your pulsing clit with his nose.
Your jaw’s just dropping. Was he making fun of you…?
“Fuck- I-I think I get it now.” You’re blubbering, hand tremoring. “You really are a monster-”
“I am.” Though you can’t decipher his tone of voice. Merely feeling the way Geto presses a few more noisy kisses on your cunt, before he’s raising his hand and-
You shut your eyes.
You’re hearing the solid smack! on those swollen, needy lips before you feel it. Hot. And just as soon as the searing sting makes its way through your thrumming vessels, Geto’s attached his mouth to your cunt once more and is tunneling his tongue crazily into your pretty hole. Just so wet n’ needy for him that you’re sucking him up after every hackhammerin’ thrust. Squeezes him closer.
He moans- fucking moans as he cuts himself off from breathing. He doesn’t care if he suffocates - as long as it’s between those tremblin’ legs of yours.
Though it’d be a damn cold day in hell before you ever let him beat you to your mission objective.
So you’re pulling back your deadly dagger, and you’re catching the slight surprise flickering in Geto’s eyes at the act. Quickly replaced by something more knowing, something…far darker and unreadable when that blade finds itself positioned back on his beautiful throat.
The vertical line of it stands out starkly. A thin line of crimson draws itself on the edge.
You’re somehow clenching through gritted teeth, “I…need to kill you—for the good of this world.”
He keeps perfect, ruinous eye-contact with you as he leans his pretty face forwards. He keeps eye-contact with you as he raises his hand and spanks your pussy once more.
“So do it.”
Hot sparks explode behind your eyes.
And the imprint of all five of Suguru’s doughy fingertips seem to emblazon themselves on your cunt- you’re realizing then that he’s using his powers again. He’s leaving a mark on your pussy…for however long he may be alive. For however long you may let him stay alive.
And he’s eating you out like it’s the last meal he’ll ever have.
The sweetest of sultry desserts latched onto his mouth - Geto ties your legs tighter around his head. Then he’s mouthing aside your soaked pussylips to stick his tongue in and out, in and out, in and out. He’s pinpointing every hidden spot inside you with his dexterous tongue- quirking it juuuuust right to one side and hittin’ your g-spot ruthlessly.
“I am going to—” Though the words feel weak, even on your lips. “I-I am going to-”
“So fucking do it.” He’s a man on death row. He’s a man starved- your dagger moves even further upwards and Geto’s sharp white canines make an appearance as he hisses. “Do it…”
“I-”
“I dare you.”
And for all the world, you might have possessed the steadiest arm in all of the land. But the way he’s makin’ your eyes roll to the back of your head - just the winding, zig-zagging slashes of his tongue squeeeeezing into your pussy - would be enough to make anyone tremble. Even during their life’s mission. “I…sh-shit.” Bucking your traitorous hips upwards - so hard that it leaves a smear of glittering slick from his upper lip n’ to the tip of his nose.
Slash after slash.
Probe after probe.
He’s just so fatal with his tastebuds - sizzling against your velvety inner walls. And you wondered whether that was just you or his powers…
Before another hot smack! resounds against the sprawling corners of the royal suite. And Geto’s taking your star-struck moment to swirl the ends of two fingers inside, scissorin’ and bullying all their slender inches.
They were the hands of the strongest Firebender of today.
And they were smearing apart your snug channel. Squelching. Smushing themselves inside- the sheer length of them…oh, it felt like they were about to go on for daaaaays. And you’re rutting up into his vicious thrusts with a whimper, “P-please…”
“Please, do it if you must.” He breathes out scalding pants. Nostrils flared. Skin red. You’re left utterly shocked at his admission- you look up into his eyes and they’re crystal clear. “If it shall bring you peace- do it.”
Gaping, “Wh-what do you mean me…”
But he’s only honing his slick-glossed, slithering digits. And he’s such a quick learner, too, he’s locating your g-spot with only a few more thorough thrusts—his favorite target. That pulsing area writhes underneath his touch- and you know where he is exactly when the heat spreads from Geto’s fingertips.
Leaving you ruined both inside and out.
Leaving him grinning around the gummy nub of your click. Sucking.
“If that is to be your wedding gift-” The mound of his voicebox pushes deeper against your blade, a hairsbreadth away from something irreversible. “-then take it-”
“Sh-shiiiiit—” Tearing up.
“If that is what you’ve been dreaming of all this time-” He continues, voice growing more and more guttural by the second. Geto’s practically gulping your pussy into him, clinging onto him. Quivering. “If revenge is the only thing th-that’s let me cross your mind…if only for the briefest second, then I shall thank it.”
Streaming down your cheeks now. “Su—fuck.” You could feel the twisting and turning at the pit of your stomach as you grew ever-closer.
He continues. “If it is what my wife desires…then so be it.” Was he fucking drunk? Was he talking out of…of your pussy? There was a slurring edge to Geto’s words, toppling over one another. And those beautiful amethyst eyes of his struggle to remain open - blinking lazily - as he laps n’ keeps lapping at your leaking pussy. Those juices smearing all over his jaw. “Kill me.”
Then down to the column of his throat.
Then collecting on your trembling blade.
Geto’s boring straight into your eyes as he utters. “But until then, m’gonna keep making you cum over and over again.” Quirking the curvaceous tips of his fingers to ram straight into your g-spot- he makes you shatter. “For as long as I have left to live, m’gonna make you the happiest woman on Earth.”
“That’s just unfair-” You’re damn-near sobbing. One of your hands claws through his night-black hair, and the other uses the flattened edge of the dagger to let you see his face better. “That’s just really, really unfair…”
“I was never a fair man.”
Then you’re being fucked through your waves of bliss like never before- those looooong, arching cresendos of dopamine through your body. Those white-hot stars. The edges of your vision blurring.
And the only thing your muddled mind can think to do is plant your feet flat on the mattress and arch- and press your drippin’ cunt closer to his face. As Geto Suguru suckles on your clit, he traps it between his teeth and draaags it out far enough that you yelp.
All the while, his fingers were slammin’ straight into your g-spot. Over and over.
Rubbing the softened tips of it to that pulsing spot—he’s elongating your orgasm like never before. He’s making you feel those carnal sensations in eeeeevery single ridge and crevice inside your cunt, three of his fingers stuffing you full by now. “Never was an understanding man.” He gasps through French kisses on your clit - every time he rolled his tongue over it, you were mewling. “Never was a kind man- hngh. Never was a good man.”
Smack!
It resounds even louder than the last few, the feeling of his heated-up fingers spanking your cunt.
And you swear you’re sent straight over the edge for a second time—
“I can only promise to be the damn best husband for as long as I have.”
It’s with this notion in mind that you’re dragged through your intense peaks, and once you’re finally coming back to - it’s to the sound of Geto pulling away from your spent pussy with a loud slurp! He follows the stray wires of sap that still connect him to you- pressing a final few kisses before finally wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
Then looking you deep in your eyes as he then licks off the glowy sheen that covered his skin.
This was what did it for you.
You’re raising your stone-cold blade high—high, higher, and even higher then. Until it was well above his head, and then—
Slashing it down to decimate his outer robe.
Even Geto himself looks shocked at this- before you’re grabbing ahold of him by the shoulders and dragging him up onto the bed. It dips with a groan at the weight of you both, its ancient springs equally as shocked, and you don’t care if you’re causing a commotion when you pull him by a lock of his hair till your back rests against a vast metal headrest. Against your skin, you could feel the twists and twirls of some intricate wooden carving - but the only thing you could focus on right now was him.
Him and the aching, throbbing erection he was sporting in his loose trousers.
The fabric paper-thin. The outline of his cock obvious.
He was so looooong and deliciously curved to the right, hard enough that you could spot at least one thick vein prodding down the side of him. Precum had seeped from the top of his blushin’ red crown and darkened a patch in his trousers; it sticks slightly to his skin as Geto rests a hand on the hemline and teases taking it off.
“Do I need to bend a dagger for that, too?” You quirk a brow.
“Hah…” Geto huffs out a laugh, “No need to exert yourself, my little Waterbender- or more like…my wife.”
Ah, his wife.
His wife.
His wife.
And then your…husband does the honor of stripping down his only remaining piece of clothing.
And the first thing you notice is that he’s even bigger than what your imagination had concocted. Red-hot and throbbing.
A slight spattering of black curls dust his base, and partway up his navel. It glistens with beads of precum that just refused to stop streaming from the tip of Geto’s cock - hard. So painfully hard.
Fucking painful.
Even contact with the frigid air seemed to make him quiver, n’ his cock was pulsing so hard that you could physically count it from where you were seated. Eyes wide and gaping - you don’t feel the slightest bit abashed about staring, and Geto doesn’t seem the slightest bit self-conscious. He’s got a gorgeous cock, and he knows it.
It feels so hot as he places the ruddied tip straight on top of your raw cunt and presses down. Not even easing inside- just smushing your folds down so that you’re getting a good feel of him.
And you do, of course.
You’re grabbing Geto by each one of his luscious deltoids and digging your nails into the firm muscle. Crashing your lips into his. Hissing, “I-inside.”
Making his velvety, sap-covered tip squeeze between your pussylips. He’s entering you with a buck and a cracked groan at the back of his throat—“I already am, general.” Just a single inch inside and he sounds breathy. Just a single inch inside and his head drops forwards- a curtain of inky black hair falling around you like a veil to the world.
You’re reaching upwards and taking out his signature golden hair pin. Even more of it.
You don’t think you’ve ever seen him this…vulnerable.
And then the Fire Lord’s throwing your legs over his shoulders and bending you flexibly down in half, hands finding purchase upon either side of your waist n’ slamming his hips into you like a madman. “And I’m have a d-damn good time fucking my wife.”
Geto’s reeling his lower half back- all the way until his ruby-red tip is purposefully stretching your hole out. Feeling you - just feeling you.
Before giving you a thorough thrust from the crown of his cockhead and down to his thick base. So thick. Your mouth’s falling open into a similar ‘oh’ that your pussy’s being expanded into.
Then repeating.
And repeating.
“Fuck, she’s so wet. Is that because you’re the- hah, land’s greatest Waterbending master-”
“Shut up.”
“And if I refuse?” There’s that hint of mischief in his voice you recognized from your past. “And if I claim that this pussy actually lov- liked this mouth of mine not too, mmm, long ago?” Through a clenched grin and furrowed brows, he somehow manages out. “So what do you have to say about that, general?”
Your maw keeps dropping open the more and more of his jagged thrusts he’s placing. “W-weren’t you the one who said he’d be happy to- even hngh—die by my blade?”
“I was. I am.” He replies - and it’s so earnest that you don’t have anything more to say to him. Suddenly, Geto’s giving you a right slam! of his cocktip- colliding against what feels like the very back of your throat. “And I stand by- ngh, every word I said.”
“Th-then…”
Before you’re able to sputter out anything more, he’s reaching his right hand down. Snaking his long fingers between those plump pussylips of yours - Geto plaps! the flattened edge of his thumb down on top of your clit. Then starts rolling n’ rolling over it in time with his solid thrusts. And just as every passing second made you keen out more…it also made you more honest.
And he could tell.
Geto’s feline smile presses on top of your forehead: a chaste kiss. One he’s repeating on your temples, your nose, either side of your cheeks, your chin, and finally your lips.
Humming against them, “But the reason I said that was because I’m in love with you.” And he says it so easily. Shock courses through your body- or perhaps that was just the feeling of him slammin’ into your g-spot. You get the distinct feeling that Geto had known where it’d be all this time - already having mapped you out with his roving fingers - and that he’d been holding out until this exact moment. “But why aren’t you completing your mission, yet?”
Your lips tremble- “I…”
“Let me make it clearer for you.” Gravelling tone pitching just a bit—just as he punishes out another slam! of his fingertips against your stuffed pussy. “Why haven’t you killed me yet?” He tosses his head with an attractive smile, “Is it because it feels too good? Be honest.”
Well…You’re scoffing, “You wish-”
He grins an irresistible grin before scorching his fingertips against your swollen cunt once more. Those Firebending powers of his certainly weren’t at full capacity - they weren’t even being used at a fraction of it.
And yet, it still made itself known in how even the tiniest bit of contact made heat sprint through every atom, every axiom of your being.
And you can only clench your hand around Geto’s damp hair, feeling the glide of those silken locks through your fingers. It makes the man hoverin’ above you on the bed wince—letting out a throaty noise of ecstasy as you’re handling him so meanly. He fucking loved it.
He’s dreamt of this for too fucking long.
Noticing this, you’re wrenching him back by his hair and spitting straight into his pretty mouth. Those pouty lips of his enclose immediately ‘round the sweet glob of spit you’re letting out - and he’s trying to kiss you almost immediately. “Mmmm…” Geto’s long lashes bat shut. At the very split-second that it had landed, you swore you could’ve felt his bashin’ cockhead swell even bigger. “Thank you, my wife.”
Eyes opening once more- you see there’s such a carnal glint in them that you can’t explain.
“But don’t think that’s gonna make me forget.” And suddenly, you’re understanding just why his name was whispered far and wide. Why not a soul in his palace seem to speak a word against him. For fear, or…Yet another swat. “Why haven’t you killed me yet, my little Waterbender?”
It was honestly feeling more like an interrogation at this point.
Mockingly, Geto cocks his head to the side and bears you his throat.
Perfectly unharmed and unscarred. The thin line where your blade lay earlier was practically invisible.
“C’mon…let me make this even clearer for you.” He goads, “Here’s your target. Here’s your enemy—kill me, my wife. Let’s see if you can, general.” Something almost maniacal in his grin, Geto’s dashing his dark hair backwards like a mane and pressing his forehead to yours. “Aren’t you the greatest Waterbender alive? You’re here because you’re bound by duty, are you not? Then why don’t you?”
A few harder thrusts.
Eyes wide. Tone crazed. “Why don’t you—?”
Why don’t you? Any other soul would stop themselves out of fear- perhaps out of proximity.
Good thing that you weren’t just any old soul.
And so you’re summoning that blade once more in a way that feels almost subconscious- your mind wasn’t really concentrated on the weapon. How could it be? When Geto’s plummeting cockhead was only growing speedier and speedier by the second - his round, reddened tip swirling about your insides and pinpointing every spot with his white precum. They were just the sloppiest strikes.
Again and again.
Upturning even the smallest slick orifices and bruising his circumference into your spongiest depths. Your cervix stung with the imprint of him.
Absolutely tortuous despite your training.
Which might be why the handle of your blade’s already half-melted; water dripping down your hand by the time you’re raising it to Geto’s pretty throat once more. “I…I am bound by my duty.” You breathe.
The enemy Lord’s grin widens as he registers your words. So you were finally taking the bait…
He looks down at the misshapen, gnarled excuse of a blade pushed to his throat—and notices the droplets of water cascading down your arm. And without a single warning, he’s craning his neck down - avoiding the sharp edge of the weapon - to liiiiiiick up those ice-cold droplets on your skin. It feels almost teasing looking at his tongue like this, already knowing what it’s done to you once.
Murmuring almost awe-struck, “I am the general of the rebellion’s Waterbending faction and I am here to kill you.”
“Yes—” He whispers. Pitch raising. Octaves higher. “Yes.” There’s a thundering squelch! between your legs as he then grips onto your clit with torrid fingers.
Your blade raises- ready to strike. “Geto Suguru, you are hereby to be assassinated at the hands of the new age. An act of revolution.”
“Yes—”
“An act of peace.”
“Fuck- yes.” Brows knitting once you clench.
“An act of…love.” Impatiently, Geto then turns to smack! the glossy top of your clit. To pinch it. And he does it with heat-coated fingers that make you see stars.
He stares at you, and you can’t look away. “So do it.” Almost gruffing the words out at you. And for how long he’s been saying these words to you, it’s just now hitting you at full force that this was a challenge. And how cocksure he was…“So kill me if you can bear to do it.”
For your nation, for others, you have to do this—you have to. Your hand trembles on the handle of the squat dagger. It feels small and almost…childish in your hands. But the longer the pause stretches between you two, the more it melts - until your weapon is nothing in your hands at all.
It was futile and you always knew it was. He did, too.
This was never going to happen.
Especially not when he was fucking you so incredibly—
And you’re merely wrapping both around the back of Geto’s head and tugging him to you.
You’re crashing our lips into his with a moan. “I can’t-” You gasp. You gawk. You’re barely breathing every time his mouth’s parting from yours and slamming back down with an even harder kiss. “I can’t bring myself to kill you, Suguru.”
Pain. It sounds like defeat. But to Geto Suguru, he’s heard no sweeter music. “And why is that…?” The infamous Fire Lord tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth.
“I-I don’t-”
Smack! Right on top of your clit. Honesty, remember?
“That’s not an answer.”
Heat coils between your legs - almost feeling like flames licking at your skin. He was making it clear that you were putty in his hands. “Please-”
Smack! Harder.
“It’s b-because I…”
“Speak up, general.” Smack! Smack! Smack! Harder. Three consecutive slaps of his fingertips- before you could even attempt to formulate an answer. Though Geto wasn’t completely merciless…at least not with you - he soothes over the sting with a few glissades of his fingertips. Pressing down on your knobbly clit then and combatting the pain with pleasure. Pinching. “Your soldier can’t hear you.”
And then you don’t know what exactly is doing it for you: perhaps the flared ridge of his tip, oh-so-perfectly grazing over your g-spot—or perhaps the way those half-shuttered eyes of his were staring down at you.
Practically boring down.
Seeking your soul.
There’s such an intensity about him- and you’re pretty sure you’re not imagining the way the air around you two heats up a few degrees. Palpable to a degree. Your skin perspires, and a bead of sweat runs down Geto’s own temple.
Tensely balancing at the edge of his jawline as he whispers. “Tell me, my heart…”
“I-it’s because I love you, too.” The confession comes rushing out of you before you even realize it. But once it’s out in the sweltering open air - there’s nothing more to do.
Nothing more to see. Nothing more beautiful than Geto Suguru’s pinched brows as you somehow - somehow…as though refusing to let himself believe such an idea - surprise him. His eyes glisten, his lips part. And that toned chest of his shudders just a lil’ as his breath hitches.
For a long time, Geto doesn’t let out anything but a few rasping grunts as he fucks you—fully and thoroughly—
And then he’s collapsing on top of you n’ puncturing out a few more sloppy strokes. Body hunched into yours. Mouth open and pressed on the column of your throat.
Heat bends around Geto’s fingertips - thrumming with energy, nearly vibrating - when he captures your clit. Harder.
Geto feels you clenching around him - throbbing furiously - and echoes out a prolonged grooooan as your third high of the night overcomes you. “Sh-shiiiiit—” It’s not one that you were expecting, and the sudden flashes of white behind your vision leave you startled. Your head drops back, and you’re mewling out Geto’s name twofold. “S-Suguru-”
“You haven’t called me that in years.” A drunken grin spreads across his face. One hard thrust that bangs into your g-spot. “Say it again-”
“Suguru-”
And one more spank. Sparks of pleasure more than you could register.
“Suguru—”
Your yelping n’ yowling were like music to his ears; the sweet sound of victory. And every time his pace quickened, your pupils are left dazed and confused—blinking up at him blearily.
Babbling.
“What’s thaaaat, my little Waterbender?” Geto’s pert lips twitch with amusement on either side, and he’s soon leaning his head down to hear you. To tease you by mimicking not hearing you—“You’ve got something to say to your lover? Heh- or maybe it’s to your husband?”
“It’s something to the- hngh, pain in my ass.” You snipe out.
His free hand reaches down n’ gropes a good handful of your ass. “We haven’t gotten there yet.”
And as your mouth drops open as his sheer audacity- Geto wastes no time returning your favor from earlier by spittin’ straight into your maw. Letting you swallow it before he’s thumbing over your clit again, “As I was- fuck! saying…”
“Mhmmm?”
And instead of just telling him - you suppose that showing him would be just as effective. And you’re running your hands all over the curves and muscles of his sturdy body; along the plush area of his pecs, and then down wherever you could reach his abs—pathetically reaching to grab onto Geto’s dripping, ruby-red cock. “I need you inside.”
His fingertips flare with his- slamming down on your clit once more. You just felt so raw and perfectly overstimulated. “I already am…?” Geto raises a brow.
“No—” You shake your head. And as for the bending powers…two could play that game. Without a single warning, you’re bending the moisture at the tips of your digits and dropping their temperature starkly - making the powerful Firebending master shiver at the play with heat. “I need you to cum inside me, Suguru.”
And you always did know he was weak for first names, didn’t you?
Because in no time, Geto’s then hiding his blushing face into the crook of your neck- and gluing his ravenous hips to yours. With a few twitches deep inside, his scorching-hot tip bubbles over—finally.
And then he’s pouring out bucketload after bucketload of hot, gooey cum.
Body bowing. Toes curling. His long hair was knotted and dampened with perspiration, sticking to your own clammy body as he’s tangling the two ever-closer.
Geto isn’t even completely done with the crescendo of his high before he’s already attempting to fuck every ounce of it inside you.
Sticky. It’s a satiny mess between your legs, and Geto’s ecstasy was just the tip of the iceberg. “Fuck.” The true sloppiness presented itself when it was time for him to fuck each and every wad into you - directing the sheer volume of it with his fat red cock. A thorough prod of his shaft leaves a few droplets being swerved straight into your womb. “O-oh, fuuuuuck-”
“Shit.” Just as he utters his sensual sounds - all of the stray parchments in the room catch on fire and peter themselves out. Instant. He’s bending the combustion in the air around you two. “Oh, gods…”
Without a single word.
Without a single intention.
You’re still suffering from the sultry aftershocks of your own high- and yet you have to clear your head. You have to be the rational one. “Suguru-”
SLAM!
Before you can sputter out anything more, he’s reaching an arm out to grip onto the headboard and leaving you speechless.
Just the sound of you saying his name- just the sound of you saying his name had his heavy balls clenching once more. And suddenly you’re feeling an even greater warmth seep into your stomach—Geto’s cumming once more. And the veiny length of his shaft was just accumulating it all at the back of your pussy with squelch after squelch!
Broken, mangled remains of your name escaping his throat.
You can’t help but stare up at the corded muscles of his biceps- arms enough to…kill for. Almost as soon as you’re thinking the thought, you watch as Firebending seeps out of his limbs n’ melts through the metal headboard. Geto’s catching the look on your face with a priggish smile.
“Oh, shut up.” You roll your eyes.
“I didn’t say a thing.”
He didn’t have to. Because he’s pressing on your stomach after the final zap of his high has completed - burnished red cockhead finally calming down - and he’s watching the cum drip out of you. All of him—that he’s stuffed lovingly inside your pussy.
And Geto doesn’t think he’s felt more victorious.
“Suguru..” You start. “Earlier, when you said something about you having no power-”
“I meant it.” He wasn’t lying. He looks deep into your eyes, “As the Prince Regent I am technically the one authority in the palace. Yet it remains a farce…my father still holds one true reign, and the council has decided unanimously that he rules from his deathbed. How competent, yes?”
You ponder, “I see.” Then you ask—“Did you ever read…”
He looks at you so intently, and you shake your head and rephrase the question.
“Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?”
“Letters?” Geto’s eyes flash. “You wrote letters?”
“Oh, Suguru…” Such sadness in your tone. It was obvious they’d never even reached him. “Almost every week for the first few years. I stopped when the war commenced…seemingly by your doing.”
Nearby, a loveseat catches fire and immediately puts itself down. Lips trembling, he grits out—“I…I had no idea.” Enraged. “Those fucking elders- I wondered whether you’d just gotten sick of me-”
“What? No, don’t be stupid-”
He chuckles, “Glad to know you still think so highly of me.” Nuzzling your cheek.
“I do.” You stubbornly hold back your tears, “And I need to know…how in league are you with the Zenins?”
And to your surprise, a smile spreads across his face. “The Zenins?” He rests his forehead against yours and sighs, “Silly Waterbender. The entire reason I was sent to Mount Inferno in the first place was over a fight about the Zenins- and even then, they bartered their son in there to keep an eye on me. And if I was in cahoots with the Zenins to any degree, would I have started the rebellion?”
Your heart skips a beat. “You’re the one that started the rebellion?”
“Yes, from the confines of my lavish prison, unfortunately.” Geto grimaces. “Though I’m glad it got strong enough to this point. It was me who sparked and funded the idea…even misinformed the imperial guard away from where riots took place. But the uprisings, the community, the victory- that was entirely the peoples. While the only thing I could do was sit here and play nice with the Zenins.” Bitterly.
Pulling him deeper to you. Two halves of the same future: you think back to Lady Tsukumo’s prediction. “My big, strong husband. Was poor wittle tea time tough?”
“Oh, it was deplorable.” He jests.
And Geto exhales properly as though the first time in years.
You ache for him.
Just as he aches for you. For your past and for your future. “I’m sorry, my wife.” He tremors after a long stretch of silence. “All this time…I wish I could’ve been a stronger prince.”
You can’t help but punch him softly on his shoulder, “Stupid Suguru. It’s okay. We’re all just grown-up kids pretending we know the way.” Sniffling. You could have a real wedding later, you could make up for time later. “But you better make it up for these nine years we didn’t see the fire lilies, or else…”
“I’d do anything for you.” He breathes. Lips pressing to yours, “I’d let the world burn for you.”
.
.
.
History will remember this day.
As the start of how a bender from the Water Nation would one day become the Queen of the Fire Nation; as the start of a reckoning that started from within the palace itself and spread like a disease into the lands outwards; as the day of revolution.
The Zenin family has long since held the palace captive.
Sitting up on their perfumed, padded cushions and ordering the extinguishment of anyone that wasn’t like them. It was upon their orders that the Fire Nation attacked—and on their orders that the war was prolonged. Nine years of death and destruction.
And that night, after wiping yourself down, you’re sneaking out of the royal suite once Geto’s eyes had closed. Roaming the dark, winding hallways like a predator at night; your eyes were wide and your Waterbending thrummed at your fingertips. Now it had an edge and was begging to meet flesh.
The first chamber that you’d encountered after exiting the marital bedroom was the current King’s chamber - one that Geto had told you had been banned to him since he could remember. He hadn’t seen his father since he’d first gotten here nine years ago. Perhaps because of the decoration and distraction of the wedding, the door had finally been left unlocked and you could peer in. And from the foot of the doorway, you stood watching—as one of the Zenin ministers sped a spoonful of curdling concoction that should’ve been medicine. Perhaps.
But the sweet, simpering smell that drifted from it told you something else.
Fire lilly.
Poisonous when cooked.
Your fingers twitched—and you were just about to send a deadly stream of water spearing through the man. But a sudden tap on your shoulder make you jump-
Whirling around to find Geto.
He smiles at you warmly, and then mouths something in the semi-darkness. It’s hitting you instantly what he means: this one is mine. It’s his revenge to take. Nodding understandingly, you watch as the spark of Firebending starts to curdle around his digits—and you’re scurrying off into the darkness with a kiss pressed to his cheek.
You know exactly where you need to go.
You’d made note of the layout when Nobara had escorted you around.
And she’d given this room a wide berth.
Silent as the shadow that falls, dawn licks at the edge of your figure once you’re walking up to a bed chamber and knocking. Just a light rap. And before whomever was inside can answer, you meld into the shadows behind—just as Zenin Naoya steps out, you’re wielding a dagger of your water and ending him.
A clean cut. Right across the throat.
Because the Zenins, in starting this war, never intended for Geto Suguru to become King. They hoped for him to abdicate such a blood-soaked throne, or at best for an assassination from you…which was why Naoya himself had written you the letter. You did think it was strange that Geto’s handwriting wasn’t even the faintest shadow of what you remembered it to be. They had an inkling that you wouldn’t be giving yourself up to the Fire Nation so easily.
They wanted Zenin Naoya to be King.
The body falls.
A single life will be lost on your wedding night at your hand. Before Dawn has defeated darkness, darkness shall be defeated within. And red shall stain the floors of a royal suite.
The Sun is clawing away at a new day.
In blood as we are borne, two worlds reunite under life and death.
