Trying to get your hot neighbour’s attention gone wrong. | Part-1
(Dilf Suguru Geto, he's really hot, smut, reader is a brat, smut, rough sex, daddy kink, blowjobs, creampies, choking, slapping, angst, porn with plot, mostly crack)
He was ruining your life. No actually, correction.
You were ruining your own life because of your insanely hot older neighbor who probably thought you were a public disturbance at this point.
It had only been a month since you moved into the apartment building and somehow within those thirty miserable days your entire brain chemistry had been rewired by one man.
One gigantic, broad shouldered, unfairly attractive man. You first saw him on a random Tuesday morning while running late for college, half awake and emotionally exhausted because your boyfriend at the time was currently arguing with you over the phone about how he “never made enough time for you anymore.”
Which was ironic because the moment the elevator doors opened, you immediately stopped caring about that man entirely. Because standing there was the hottest person you had ever seen laid your lustful eyes on. Tall. Like genuinely tall. Around 6’2 at least.
Massive shoulders stretching a dark fitted shirt, thick arms veined from carrying grocery bags in one hand while unlocking his apartment with the other. His raven hair was shoulder length in a wolf cut and messy, with bangs carelessly like he had bigger things to worry about than looking devastatingly attractive at eight in the morning.
And then there were the eyes.
Lord, save me. Half lidded and sharp and tired in a way that made your stomach do cartwheels.
The little wrinkles around them somehow made him even hotter. Honestly? unfair. It was so so so unfair ugh.
Beside him stood two girls around twelve years old, both loudly arguing with him while he looked completely exhausted already.
“Dad, she took my charger.”
“I borrowed it.”
“You’ve had it for three days.”
He sighed deeply like this conversation had shortened his lifespan. “I’m begging both of you to stop talking before coffee.” You nearly folded on the spot. Because not only was he hot. You glance at his hands…no ring.
He was a dad.
A really really…hot dad.
One of the girls looked up at him. “You look angry.”
“I am angry.”
“You always look angry.”
“That’s just my face.”
And then he looked up. Straight at you. Fuck. He gave you a small polite smile. “Morning.”
And damn that voice too. Of course he has a sweet, honeyed voice. Your soon to be ex boyfriend was still talking through your phone speaker.
“Hello? Are you even listening?”
And without even thinking, you went, “I think we should break up.”
“What?”
The elevator doors closed. You never emotionally recovered after that. After learning his name was Suguru, things only got worse. Because obviously the hottest man alive would have the sweetest name possible.
And the more you saw him around the apartment building, the more pathetic you became. You started timing your laundry trips. Checking your mailbox five times a day.
Taking forever to unlock your apartment if you heard footsteps nearby. You even started dressing better to take the trash out which was genuinely humiliating to admit.
Meanwhile Suguru remained painfully unaware. Always busy with his daughters. One was quieter and rolled her eyes a lot while the other talked nonstop and clung to his arm dramatically whenever they walked together.
And he was annoyingly good with them too. Patient but sarcastic. Gruff but soft underneath it. One time you saw him crouched down helping one of them tie her shoelace while listening to her rant about school drama with the most exhausted expression imaginable.
Another time you heard him outside their apartment saying, “If you two don’t stop fighting over slime, I’m throwing it off the balcony.”
You had to physically sit down afterward. Dominating mhm…Your own relationship was dying meanwhile. Not that it mattered anymore. Your boyfriend once complained because you liked older men in movies.
Little did he know you were now actively trying to seduce the giant dilf down the hallway. At first your attempts were subtle. Like smiling longer and holding eye contact.
Wearing tiny shorts during “accidental” hallway encounters. Nothing really worked. Why do all the “off limit” things in life take so much effort?
Suguru just nodded politely every single time like a normal civilized human being while you internally combusted. What a gentleman…rubbish.
Which led to your current situation.
Desperation.
And noise complaints.
The first time he knocked on your door, you nearly passed out from excitement. You opened it immediately and there he stood looking unfairly good in a black compression shirt and gray sweatpants.
Honestly you deserved compensation for this.
“Hey,” he said politely. “Sorry to bother you.”
God even his manners were hot. You leaned against the doorway casually even though your knees almost gave out. “What’s up?”
He glanced toward the loud music blasting from your apartment. “I was wondering if you could turn it down a little.”
“Oh.” You blinked innocently. “Is it loud?” His eye twitched slightly. “My daughters are trying to study.”
Right.
The daughters. You smiled sweetly. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. Thanks.”
Then he left.
And naturally, the next day you turned the music back on. Only louder this time. Oh dear Suguru, you got no idea about what’s in store for you.
The second time he came by, he looked more tired. Third time, visibly irritated. By the fourth day, you had become a genuine menace.
You were dragging furniture for absolutely no reason. Drilling random holes into a wall. Playing music so loud your own floor vibrated. And then came the knock.
No.
The bang actually!
Oh.
You swung the door open and there stood Suguru looking genuinely annoyed for the first time since you met him. His midnight hair looked messier than usual like he had been running his hands through it repeatedly. Glasses sat low on his nose and his jaw looked tight with irritation.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I know what you’re trying to do.” You blinked up at him innocently. “What?”
“We’ve had this conversation four times now.”
“Maybe I just really like music.”
“At 2 AM? NOT to mention that this loud?”
“Some artists are best appreciated at night.”
His eyes narrowed. My my…he looked hot irritated. “I don’t want to file a complaint with the landlord,” he said carefully, “but you need to turn the damn music down.”
Oh.
There it was.
Attitude! Yummy.
You looked him up and down slowly.
“Or what, daddy?”
Silence.
Utter complete silence. You saw his entire face and body freeze. You watched his eyes widen just slightly behind his glasses.
“What did you say?”
Your confidence almost abandoned your body immediately but absolutely not externally. You crossed your arms anyway.
“I said,” you repeated slowly, “or what, daddy?”
The word hit him like psychic damage. You could feel his anger radiating off from his sexy body. And for the first time since meeting him, Suguru looked directly into your eyes.
One long stare that made your stomach drop straight to hell. “Oh,” he said finally, voice lower now. “You’re one of those.”
You blinked. “One of what?”
“A fucking problem!”
Part-2
Got this idea while reading this fic by @eraserbread 💚
Warnings: FWB, smut, oral sex, fluffy feelings, public sex
A/N: Ah, FWB, but more. Delicious smut; the brainworms were good to me! 🤣❤️
Nanami Kento:
Nanami pouted, his eyes focused on your back as some guy flirted with you. He hated seeing other people looking at his best friend like you were just a snack. It made him sick to his stomach. No one would treat you better than him. But you two agreed: friends with benefits, nothing more than that. All because Nanami thought it would help with not ruining your friendship.
And it did. Things were never awkward. You both had sex, got off, and it was perfect! No more creepy Tinder dates for you; Nanami wasn't stressed out as much. Plus, he got to remain friends with you. The arrangement was without flaw. Expect moments like this.
When he saw other people watching you, how you flirted back with the smile that had him raging, he wanted the source of your smile. Usually, when this sort of thing happened, he turned away, but something about this guy had him on edge. He was looking at you like you were a piece of meat, something to take home and fuck. You didn't deserve that. You deserve the best.
“Ooh, they fuckin.” Nanami flushed deep red as he turned to glare at Gojo, who was whispering to Geto.
“Satoru, please, it's rude to assume that,” Geto whispered back, eyeing Nanami. It was when the dark-haired man saw the flush on Nanami’s face and neck that he gaped. “Oh my god, they are fuckin’.”
“Shut up, we're just friends with benefits.”
“Oooh, Suguru, do you want to tell him?”
“Mmm nah, you go ahead, Satoru.”
Gojo leaned forward, smirking at Nanami. “Friends with Benefits don't glare daggers at strangers their FWB is talking to. Not unless they want more~.” With flushed cheeks, Nanako got up, downing the last of his drink. “Ooh, what are you going to do?!”
“Fuck you.”
“Eeeh, sorry buddy, that's Suguru’s job!”
“Satoru.” Geto purred with a smirk.
Nanami could care less about who was fucking who in their relationship. The only person he was concerned with fuckin was you. But not in the way he usually would, no, not anymore.
He stormed towards you, grabbing your wrist gently. The sudden contact had you jumping as Nanami pulled you up. He didn't say a word as he dragged you away from the asshole hitting on you. You were too stunned to speak as Nanami pulled you into the bathroom, taking you to the back stall.
Standing in the corner, you gawked as he locked the stall door. “Okay, what the actual fuck Nanami?” You were slightly annoyed, tapping your shoe against the dirty tile floor. “I was enjoying my conversation with that guy!”
“The guy that looked at you like you were a piece of ass?”
His straightforward response caught you off guard. “Huh?”
“That guy would take you home, fuck you, and never call you back because that’s the type of guy he looks like!”
“Oh? And since when do you concern yourself with my dating life? We're friends, Nanami! You're not my boyfriend!”
“Oh, I'm much more than just a friend!” Nanami crowded you, slamming both hands on the wall on either side of your head. “I’m your best friend! I'm your colleague! I’m your lover!”
His anger left the two of you stunned; your heart was racing as he inched closer to you. “You set up our arrangement. You said this was for the best; we wouldn't ruin our friendship if we kept it casual. You said that!” Nanami watched your cheeks burn, your eyes avoiding his at all costs.
“You're right. This was my arrangement. And I don't think I can do it anymore.”
That caught your attention, Y/E/C eyes finding his honey-brown ones in a flash. “What?! No, why?!” Nanami’s large hand cupped your face.
“Because I find myself wanting more. I want you, Y/N, I want all of you.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
The confession, the anger, all of that collided together in a heated kiss. You both made quick work; you unbuckled his belt, and he slid your dress up past your hips, moving your panties to the side. When you were in a moment like this, you moved in sync. There were no fumbling or awkward movements. Just perfect flowing movements, much like dancers or ice skaters who had been perfecting their art for decades. That was the perfect way to describe how you and Nanami moved together.
Your back was against the cold stall, legs wrapped around Nanami’s hips as he fucked you. His cock slid in and out of you like it had done hundreds of times before, finding a rhythm he knew the two of you enjoyed. That was one of the many joys of fucking your best friend. Everything was easy and comfortable.
“Nanami, fuck your cock is so big.”
”Yeah? Your pussy is tight; it’s like they were made for each other.”
You couldn’t help but giggle, moaning in surprise as his hips snapped forward. “It’s like a puzzle.” Your words were meant to be a joke, based on what he said. But they meant the world to Nanami.
”Yes, you’re right.” His lips found yours, nipping at your lips. “That’s exactly what you are to me, Y/N.” His hips moved harder, the stall creaking under the force as you yelped out in pained pleasure. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each powerful thrust.
”W-What am I to you?” Nanami mewled as your fingers ran through his hair before rubbing against his undercut. “Tell me.” Your voice was caught in a moan as one of his hands reached down, rubbing your clit. “N-Nana, fuck, fuck yes.”
”You’re my other half, my missing piece.” He growled against your skin, his hot tongue licking at your pulse. “You’re my favorite person.” He chuckled, teeth grazing your skin. “And I want to be with you.”
You were hearing the words you had been wanting to hear for years sent you into orgasmic bliss. You screamed, pussy clamping down on Nanami, milking him as he grunted against your skin. His hips slammed against you, his hot cum filling you to the brim until his cock had gone soft. He kept you pinned against the stall, breathing heavily against your flushed skin before he felt your hands lazily play with his hair again.
When he pulled back to meet your gaze, he swore his heart skipped a beat. You were smiling so softly, with an expression he’d never seen. A mixture of satisfaction and happiness. It had butterflies, butterflies of all things swarming around the pit of his stomach. He can’t stop leaning in, kissing you the softest he’s ever kissed.
”So,” you whispered against his lips, “does this mean you’ll finally stay the night with me?”
Nanami shakes his head with a chuckle as the two of you readjust your clothes and straighten your hair. “I’ll do you one better. I’ll stay the night, and then I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.” He gently takes your hand, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “How does that sound, Y/N?” You didn’t even need to respond for Nanami to know your answer. The wide grin and sparkle in the blue lights of the bathroom said it all.
”Sounds like a dream come true!”
Geto Suguru:
You looked at the clock with a groan, digging through your closet. You were going to be late for your date Shoko had set up. Your stupid cardigan had gone missing again. It was the only one you had, seeing as the other was on your desk chair at work. You couldn’t just go out in the early spring evening without a sweater! It was too hot for long sleeves and hoodies.
Lucky for you, Geto Suguru, your roommate's best friend, and your FWB had a sweater. One he was not currently using. You hurried out of your room, searching for the dark-haired man. He was in the living room, looking through the books, when he heard your heels clicking over the floor.
”Hey, do you still have that book I let you borr-“ Suguru choked on his words when he turned to look down at you. You were in a tight black lace bra, a push-up one that made your breasts look plumper than usual. The matching thong barely covered your pussy, leaving little to the imagination. “What the hell are you doing?!” Suguru barked out, head whirling for any peering eyes that might not be his own.
”Relax, Satoru has seen me naked before.” Seeing Suguru’s eyebrows ccock up, you shook your head. “Chill out. I forgot to lock the bathroom door. I haven't slept with him.” Your eyes did a glance over the living room, pouting when you couldn’t find your sweater still. “Could I borrow your sweater? I can’t find mine, and I would rather not freeze tonight.”
Relieved to know Satoru had only seen you naked by accident, Suguru shrugged out of his black sweater, promptly handing it to you. “Where are you going? Book club, drinks with the girls?” You answered with a shake of your head, heading back to the bedroom.
”Nope, I got a date.”
Before you could take another step, Suguru held your wrist. You turned your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. His dark eyes were wide, gaze locked on yours. It was shocking to see him so stunned. He was usually calm and collected.
You turned around, looking him over, trying to pinpoint the source of his shock. While your Y/E/C eyes searched over him, his hands ran up your arms, gently holding you. This was a side of him you never saw, so gentle and unsure.
“Date? What do you mean you have a date?”
“Oh, yeah, Shoko set it up for me.” Suguru clenched his teeth, his eyes now roamed over your body. He was taking in the curves and dips of your skin. Every part he had caressed and kissed. “She said it was time for me to get back on the playing field.”
Shaking his head, Suguru gently ran his hands up to your shoulders. “Why? You have me. Don't I satisfy your needs?” You laughed, cocking an eyebrow up at him. “Why are you looking at me like that, Y/N? I'm being serious!” His frustration only made you giggle more as you shook your head in disbelief.
“Suguru, you told me that you didn't want a relationship. That what we had was just sex. Someone we could turn to when we were horny, no strings attached.”
“I know I said that.”
“Then why are you being so weird about me going out on a date?”
Yeah, why was the thought of you going out with someone else making his stomach do cartwheels? You both agreed to hook up whenever you wanted. But just because you fucked, didn't mean you were his girlfriend. He had specified that part himself.
The no-strings-attached policy was just something he had said in the spur of the moment. He had so many thoughts running through his mind as the two of you made out. Would Satoru be mad at him for sleeping with his roommate? Would it make things awkward for the two of you when he came over? In the heat of the moment, three months ago, that was the most reasonable thing he thought to say.
”Because I want to be the only person you date.” His words were confident and to the point. Not leaving any thoughts of doubt behind.
You were still left staring at him in utter confusion. “But you said no strings attached!?” Your brain was beginning to hurt with the back-and-forth banter.
“Ugh!” He released you, throwing his head back. “I know I said that and trust me, I wish I could take back that singular sentence. I was thinking about all the ifs and ands when I should have been focusing on the cold, hard truth.” He began pacing, his eyes glued to the floor as he continued to rant. “The truth is, I like you. I’ve liked you for the last year, but I didn’t want to make you feel weird or have Satoru pissed off that I slept with you.”
“Suguru.”
“But sleeping with you made me like you even more! I just fuck; I regret saying that because I don’t want to be friends with benefits anymore. I want to be the one taking you out on dates! I want to be the only guy in your bed and vice versa. After we hooked up, I deleted all the dating apps, and I just.” He huffed out a sigh, turning to look at you. “I want you.”
Fuck, he shouldn’t have ranted like that. But what else could he have done? He had to get it off his chest before you went on your date. At least let you know how he felt before you went out with someone else. The ball was in your court now. That might be the most terrifying part of this whole mess he found himself in.
His dark eyes were glued to the floor as he listened to your heels clicking as you stood before him. Bracing himself for rejection or anything else, Suguru looked up, meeting your flushed face and a wide smile. Seeing you like that had him stepping forward, closing the distance between you.
”You deleted all of your dating apps after the first time we hooked up?” He nodded his head. “In the last three months, you haven’t been with anyone but me?’ Another nod. “You want to be with me?”
”Yes! I want that more than anything.”
You threw your arms around him, kissing him deeply as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling tight against him. Your kiss held as much truth as his words had. It was feverish, deep, and full of passion. You were conveying the truth of your feelings for him without using words.
By the time you managed to pull yourself away, both of you were panting heavily. “Let me cancel this date, then maybe we could go out.” You breathed out between gasps. “I’m happy to have a boyfriend now, but I was sort of looking forward to getting eaten out tonight.” As your message went through, Suguru had you in his arms, tossing your phone on the couch.
Suguru had your back pinned against the wall, legs over his shoulders, as his hands held your ass. You gripped the wall as best as you could, heart racing from being so high off the ground as Suguru licked and sucked at your clit through your lace panties. He lapped and sucked at you like a man dying of thirst. His feral actions had you grabbing his smooth, dark hair, pulling it as you rocked against his face.
Suguru hummed, glancing at you before prodding your dripping entrance with his tongue. As he did, his heart almost stopped. His tongue had slid through a tiny opening in the center, meeting your dripping cunt. Eyes shot to your face, seeing the smirk tugging at your kiss-swollen lips.
“Never heard of crotchless panties, Sugu?”
There was no snarky remark or comeback. Just his tongue burying itself deep inside of you. You cried out, eyes shutting tight as he brushed his nose over your clit, shaking his head back and forth. You felt dizzy as his tongue swirled inside of you, lapping and rubbing against your inner walls.
Suguru was so skilled at using his mouth. His tongue mapped out every part of your pussy and entrance. The man loved to eat you out and make you feel so good. If his girlfriend wanted to get her pussy eaten, by god, she would. He'd make sure you’d never be left unsatisfied. If it took hours to make you cum on his tongue, then he'd take those hours, not stopping until you came, coating his face with your essence.
He was so worked up, just thinking about eating you out, making you feel good, that he groaned as you tugged hard on his hair. Little moans of ‘Suguru’ and ‘im cumming’ was all he could register before you were squirting all over his face. He shut his eyes as your juices coated his lips, tongue, and chin. His tongue kept moving until you were begging him to stop.
“Was that to your liking?” He asked gently, lowering you to the ground. “Satisfied? Or do you n-nngh!” His words were caught in his throat, eyes darting down to where you had his cock in a vice grip.
“Shut the fuck up and come fuck your girlfriend into the mattress.” Suguru didn't need you to tell him twice, especially when you called yourself his girlfriend.
Toji Fushiguro:
“This is me.” You nervously laughed as your creepy Tinder date eyed the building you didn't live in. “Thanks for the date, it was fun.” Yeah, it was a lot of fun getting felt up and paying for the dinner he told you he would buy, but he just so happened to forget his wallet.
“You don't want to invite me up?” the creepy guy asked as you hit the buzzer three times. “I thought you might want some dessert. I have a great cream filling for you to try.”
“No, I'm good.”
“Don't be a bitch; come on, let me in.”
“I said I’m good!”
“Stupid fuc—”
The door to the apartment complex swung open, and a firm hand grabbed you, pulling you inside. “She said no, go fuck yourself.” without another word, the door slammed shut. “Fuck, you sure know how to pick them.” you pressed your face into your FWB’s chest, his hand rubbing your back soothingly.
“Holy fuck, that was super scary thanks Toji.” Your hands gripped his shirt, holding yourself upright as he sighed.
“Why do you put yourself through this?” Toji asked, leading you to the elevator. “Honestly, you should know better than to go out with creeps like that one.”
You rolled your eyes, stepping onto the elevator with him. “I just want to find my person.” Those words had Toji glaring down at you. “Not all of us can be satisfied with random hookups with friends.” The elevator opened on the third floor, and you stepped out.
“Random hookups?” His tone was dry. “You think that's what this is between us?”
“You're really to look at me and tell me they aren't?” He grabbed your attention arm, glaring down at you. “This is just to blow off steam, right?”
You and Toji had slept together on multiple occasions. After a long week of work, a bad day when you were feeling down. He was always the one you went to when you needed to vent, have a good laugh, or have sex. Toji was your friend, and you loved him, but he didn't love you the same way. He was a single dad, taking care of his son Megumi. He didn't have time to date and all that other stuff. Once in a while, a good fuck with you was enough to fulfill his needs.
So when your best friend dragged you into his apartment and slammed the door behind him, you swallowed the lump forming in your throat. His eyes were dark and narrow with frustration and anger. A look you rarely saw directed towards you. You felt so small under his gaze it had you stepping back., the back of your knees hitting the couch.
“Do you honestly think I would hook up with you to blow off steam? You’re the same woman I have over for dinner, the woman I sleep with, the only other person I trust with Megumi!” His anger was palpable as you crawled onto the couch, your eyes never leaving his as he followed you. “I didn't put a label on this,” his hand motioned between you, “you did!”
“So what are you saying?!”
“I'm saying you're the only one going on stupid dates! I'm not! If you want more, say it! You're a grown-ass adult. You can do what you want, Y/N! And so can I!” He crawled on top of you. “So, for once in your life, can you please be honest?!”
You felt your nose and eyes burning with tears. Was he saying what you thought he was? That he wanted to be more, but you were holding back? Had you been the one keeping the FWB label on your relationship?
The longer you stare into his dark eyes, the more your face softens. Toji was always the one you ran to after a stupid Tinder date. He was the only person you slept with, the only man you wanted to be with, and Megumi, god, you lived that kid like he was your son. You couldn't find your person through random people because you already found him.
Your person was Toji.
Your hands gently reached up, cupping his face. “You want me?” Your voice was shaky and hesitant, scared to hear his answer.
“Of fuckin’ course I want you, Y/N.” he turned towards your hand, kissing your palm. “You idiot, it took you that long to see it?”
“You could have said something.” Your teasing tone was cut off by his hands working on your leggings. “Toji, wait, what are you doing? Megumi’s in the other room.”
Toji didn't respond to you; he just tugged his sweats down, tucking the band of them under his balls. “I’m not good with words. So I’ll show you how much I want you.” He rubbed his cock up and down over your folds before slowly pressing into you.
Soft moans and whines escaped you both as Toji slowly began to fuck you inside the couch. His hand grabbed at your hips, breasts, and thighs. Touching you everywhere he could as his cock pressed in and out of you, fucking you deeper and harder with each thrust of his hips. Toji pressed hot kisses against your lips. Each kiss, touch, and thrust told you everything you needed to know.
“I love you.” You cried out without thinking as he pressed into your g-spot. The sudden outburst had Toji freezing above you, hips pausing mid-thrust. Sweat slowly dripped down his temple as his mind replayed your words.
“What was that?”
“I said I love you.”
Toji’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt something unlock inside him. Whether it was his heart or sick throbbed inside of you, he couldn't tell. “Fuck,” he whispered, eyes drifting down your body. “Fuck.” Toji pulled all the way out before slamming hard into you. “Fuck!!” He growled, slamming into you harder and deeper with each thrust. “Love you too, fuck, I love you.”
Your eyes rolled back as you felt yourself drawing closer and closer to your orgasm. Toji reached over you, grabbing the arm of the couch for support as he drilled into you. Holy fuck, this was intense, so fucking intense. Your moans grew louder before he clamped his other hand over your mouth.
“As much as I love you screaming my name, I would rather not have my kid catching us. So be a good girl and cum.” His raspy command and slamming into your g-spot was all you needed. You screamed into his hand, trembling under him as he gritted his teeth. “Cummin’ take it all, Y/N~!”
As the waves of pleasure died, Toji removed his hand, smiling at you. You returned his grin, kissing him softly. “Fuck, that was so good.” Toji chuckled, shifting so you both were lying on the couch.
Obsessions: Jujutsu Kaisen, Genshin Impact, Pokemon, Gundam/Mecha, My Hero Academia, Yuta Okkotsu, Figure collecting, Writing.
Quinny's Masterlist
AO3 Account
My Works Below
Series
Title “Picking up the Pieces” (Jujutsu Kaisen)
Choso x Reader Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy ending, strangers to lovers.
Manga Spoilers - Battle vs Sukuna is over
Words: 12,000+
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5
Title "When I Catch You Gege " (Jujutsu Kaisen)
Summary Reader is Isekai'd into JJK with the determination to change canon and make sure she rights the wrongs of Gege. Oh and enjoy her time there...yeah that too. No manga plot spoilers. Reader x everyone. All characters 18+ unless otherwise stated.
Content Warning: Canon typical violence, torture, suicide, Non-con, extreme bullying, angst with a happy ending.
Summary Forced to work after the death of her father y/n finds themselves filling a nurses role at Hillsboro Asylum for the Criminally Insane. The patients and workers alike have her questioning her own sanity in this new insular world during WWII.
Ryoumen Sukuna has become a fixture in solitary confinement for the last seven years. His sanity was barely there before but now it is frayed beyond redemption. A good will gesture brings him and y/n into a strange secret relationship
Okkotsu Yuta swears he isn’t insane he didn’t hurt anyone it was Rika who killed those people. Just because no one else can see her doesn’t mean she isn’t there. You believe him right?
Pairings: Reader x Ryoumen Sukuna, Reader x Yuta Okkotsu
Genre Horror, Angst, Eventual Smut, Angst w/ Happy Ending
Status Ongoing
Length 5 Chapters, 18,000 Words
Chapters Chapter 1 Chapter 2+ on AO3
Title Cult Leader’s Quarry (Jujutsu Kaisen)
Summary You’re living an average non-sorcerer office workers life when you catch the eye of a certain unstable cult leader. The more you pull away the more trapped you become.
The first time Suguru Geto saw you was also the first time he wondered if the girls needed a mother figure in their lives. Not that he was considering you. No, never, his lip curled at the very notion. Even the passing thought of a monkey like you around his precious daughters was enough to make him feel ill.
Pairings Suguru Geto x Reader, Slight Gojo Satoru x Reader
(Friends with benefits, lots of angst, Suguru isn't over his ex, you're in love, miscommunication, cheating? not giving you more tags)
Part-3 | Playlist
You pick up your things. And then there’s Naoya again. On your floor. He comes up to you, speaking close. “Hey! I haven’t seen you in a while. Too much work?”
You smile and say, “Nah, I’m good.”
He says, “Yeah, well… um…” He stutters just a bit. You’re trying to say something. And he says, “Okay. Look. You know what? You know that I follow you on Insta and I there’s this band..that I know you’re a big fan of! And so am I..so. I don’t know why I’m blurting it out at your desk, but… I just wanted to say that… I wanted to know if you’d like to go out with me. Just for the band thing.”
You’re stuttering. Your brain is jiggling, boogling, spinning. You don’t know what to say. You look up at him. You note him, in the back of your side eyes—Suguru. You know he might be looking at you. You don’t know why exactly would he look at you tho. It’s not like he gives you the kind of attention that you need. He still hasn’t replied to your text.
You look up again. Naoya—handsome, okay? From a good clan, the Zenin clan. You’re friends with his cousin sister, Maki. He’s handsome. Suguru could give Naoya a run for it. But there’s one problem—you haven’t heard good things about him. A douchebag, basically. But judging by your dating life right now, a douchebag would do for a night, wouldn’t he? How bad could it be?
And you’re like… okay. You need to get out of your damn Suguru situation too.
“Naoya… thanks for asking but…I don’t think I can go.”
He looks at you, all glimmery and chattery. “Well…it’s okayyy but lemme know if you change your mind, okay?”
“Yes, yes. Definitely!,” you say, blushing.
He smiles charmingly. “Could I… like, could I get your number?”
You drop the digits. Silence. He’s looking at your lips. Your eyes. And you’re doing the same. God, he’s very handsome. Why didn’t you notice that before?
“Okay… see you soon,” he says.
“Thanks. Anytime!” you whisper.
Before anything else could happen, you pick up your things. Like… what would even happen if you decide to go? You just overthink.
___
Later that night, your phone buzzed.
Suguru: Are you free tonight?
Your chest tightened, even as your fingers trembled over the screen. “Yes. I’ll be at your apartment.”
The drive up to his place was quiet, heavy with the echoes of your own heart. You hated how much this hurt. How much you were still tethered to him. The memory of his smile at the office, lingering on Yuki instead of you, churned in your stomach like acid. And now you were walking into his apartment, into his world, knowing that casual wasn’t casual enough for your heart. Were you addicted to him?
The door opened. He was there, leaning against the frame, eyes sharp. There was a shirt draped over his shoulder, a soft, faded cotton. Manami’s gift, unmistakable. You froze, heart stuttering painfully, a reminder that his heart had once belonged fully to her. The image burned into your mind, and yet, here you were, stepping inside. Fuck. It hurts. It hurts so much
The air between you was thick, charged, dangerous. And yet, it was just Suguru. Just the two of you.
Before you could think, he was on you, wrapping his hands around your face, palms cupping your cheeks as if holding you in place. His eyes bore into yours, searching, wanting to say something but he wouldn’t. He never did.
He unbuttoned your office shirt in a hurry and, in one swift motion, unhooked your bra. “You smell so good,” he gasped, almost breathless now. He started cupping your breasts, lapping them up hungrily. You removed his shirt in a rush, desperate to get rid of Manami’s memory. Your hands moved into his silky hair as you threw your head back. You were getting dizzy. He is your addiction.
“Turn,” he demanded.
Your body obeyed, trembling, as he hooked your panties to the side with his long fingers. He loved to fuck you when you were still wearing your skirt. He played with your clit for a moment before positioning his aching bulge against your crying hole. He pounded into you with the same ferocity as always. One hand gripping your throat, the other pressed into your belly. Possessive, dominant, precise. And yet, somehow, it felt like he was pouring everything he never said into this moment. You were still by his door, hadn’t even made it to the bed. The hunger was eating both of you alive, both losing yourselves in the heat, trying not to think about what the fuck was wrong with all of this.
“You’ve been… busy,” he murmured, voice low, almost teasing.
“Huh? What do you mean?” you asked, breathless.
He hesitated, tugging you closer, lips grazing your ear. “Nothing. Just… felt like saying it.”
Then, without another word, he turned your mouth to his, kissing you hard, fiercely, as though trying to erase every thought in your mind, every doubt, every painful memory. Your chest ached. You wanted MORE. More closeness, more certainty but the unspoken rules of your rules with him held tight.
A thought surged forward, reckless and urgent: I want to ride him.
Before he could deny you, you guided him back toward the couch, knees brushing against the cushions as you straddled him. His grip on your hips was unrelenting, and as you moved, watching his face, his eyes, strong and yet, somehow, detached, you felt it. That flicker. His gaze shifting, lingering somewhere else.
You hated that.
Is he thinking about her? Manami? Why now? Is he?
The thought gnawed at you, relentless. Even as your body moved with his, your mind spiraled. Why do I do this to myself? Why do I let myself love him so much when he isn’t mine?
“Change… the full nelson,” he commanded, voice low, steady. You both always enjoyed it. You obeyed, surrendering to the position, to him, even as the ache in your chest deepened. You wanted to look at him, to see the warmth, the affection but he wouldn’t meet your eyes. He never did.
A fleeting, desperate thought crossed your mind. What if I just… stay still? Maybe he’d hold me, just this once? Maybe he’d look at me the way I want him to. Maybe if he looks into my eyes, he could see how much I love him.
But before you could act on it, a thud rattled against the apartment door.
Suguru froze. His hands tightened around your waist.
“Who is it?” you whispered, heart hammering in your chest.
His jaw clenched. His eyes darkened, sharp with something possessive, dangerous. “No idea,” he muttered, voice tight. Then, almost immediately, he leaned down, pressing a hand to your back. “Get dressed. Now.”
You fumbled with your clothes, fingers shaking, your body still humming from what had just passed. He moved swiftly, gathering his keys, glancing toward the door with a tight expression.
The voice called again, insistent, sharp. A female voice, familiar.
Manami
Suguru’s jaw tightened further, and his hand gripped your arm for a brief moment, almost painfully. “You gotta leave. NOW,” he muttered, his possessiveness radiating through every movement, every glance.
You dressed as fast as you could, heart in your throat. And all the while, the sting of his jealousy lingered, sharp and hot. That glance at Manami’s shirt, that flicker of possessiveness over you. It was intoxicating, painful, maddening. And it only made you ache for him more.
You’re holding some of your clothes in your hands, wanting—needing—to zip them up, but your fingers won’t cooperate. Your eyes snap to him. Suguru. And disbelief hits like a punch to the stomach. Your eyes…gleamy, hurt, exhausted - lock on him, and for a moment, the world tilts.
“Who is it?……Suguru?” you asked, your voice breaking.
“Uh… it’s… one of mine,” he says, voice tight, nervous. Nervous? Nervous? What could he possibly be nervous about? It’s not like he owes you anything, right?
You take a deep, shuddering sigh, desperately trying to keep yourself together. You cannot let him see you like this. Crying. Broken. The thought alone makes you feel paralyzed. Your heart pounds like a war drum, the only sound you can hear in the room.
God, you have a million thoughts racing at once: I need to move on from him. My eyes are going to be swollen for a week. My month is going to look like shit. I’m going to be horrible…
You swallow hard, steady yourself. “I have a pretty good idea,” you mutter, your voice trembling. “I’m… I’m sorry. You have to leave like this” The words taste bitter. He’s with her. The girl you hate with every fiber of your being. The girl he used to love.
Quickly, you finish dressing, tears streaming down, hot and humiliating. You wipe them away on the back of your hand, desperate to hide the evidence, desperate to protect whatever shred of dignity you have left. You grab your bag, sidestep him, and move toward the door.
He follows, opening the door.
And there she is.
Manami. Perfect. Drop-dead gorgeous. Exactly the kind of girl Suguru would want. Perfect hair, perfect nails, perfect everything. And you… you look like someone who just survived a hurricane. Weak. Broken. Messy but at least it was the mess created by his boyfriend huh?
Her gaze flicks over you, taking in your disheveled state. A fake, sharp smile stretches across her lips. Bitch…
“Who is she?” Manami asks, voice sweet and poisonous all at once.
Suguru doesn’t even glance at you. His eyes are locked on her, and the world constricts around your chest.
“She’s just a colleague,” he says smoothly. “Came by about the concert we’re both fans of. I told her I was going with you. Nothing more. She’s leaving.”
His words cut deeper than any knife EVER could. And then he glances at you…briefly…but it’s a look that says, get over it. Weakly, you manage a smile. Turn away. You didn’t even say goodbye to them. Why would you? Why should you? Tears streak down, burning your cheeks. Your shirt is askew, your hair a mess, and your heart feels like it’s been ripped out.
What are you even doing with your life? You wanted to be near him, to see him, to feel a part of his world. But being near him like this… it just reminds you how far away you really are. Having his hands claim your body means nothing if his eyes never see you. And why would they? It’s just casual, right? It’s never been about love.
You retreat to your car, hands gripping the steering wheel, eyes burning, tears streaming down your face. You pause the song you both love,
Lies
Lies
Lies
You wipe your nose and cheeks with your sleeve, but it doesn’t help. Of course it’s Manami. Of course. He would always look for her. Didn’t she cheat him? You don’t know the full story, but it doesn’t matter. She’s here. She’s the one in his heart, while you… you’re just the girl he fucks.
Maybe it’s your fault for hoping. For thinking that this…whatever this is could ever be different. It’s all just a time pass. Why would he ever have feelings for you? Why would he even waste time on you? Shity thoughts on repeat.
You grip the steering wheel tighter. You need to get him out of your system. You need to stop feeling like this.
Shakily, you call Naoya. “Hey… about that concert… I’m interested in going with you.”
“Oh,” he says, a little surprised. “When you said no, I just asked my cousin. Are you… comfortable with someone else joining? Also, I don’t know if you can book the tickets now Y/N”.
“Don’t worry! I have them.”
You hang up, staring at your reflection in the rearview mirror. Tears still streak your cheeks. You take a deep, shuddering breath. Who is that cousin? You don’t know. You don’t care. All you know is that right now, Suguru is still the storm in your chest, still the ache in your gut, still the impossible thing you can’t let go of.
(Friends with benefits, lots of angst, Suguru isn't over his ex, you're in love, miscommunication, cheating? not giving you more tags)
Part-2 | Playlist
You wake up with a dull ache in your chest. It’s the usual mix of longing and self-loathing, that ache that comes from being tangled up with someone who doesn’t do feelings the way you do. Suguru’s gone out somewhere already, or at least you think he has — the apartment is quiet, empty except for the faint scent of him lingering in the sheets. You lie there for a while, trying to make sense of the storm in your chest.
And then you see it. A faint glimmer on his phone, left carelessly on the nightstand. You catch the image before you can look away — Manami. Just a glimpse, just a fragment of her face, and it hits you like ice water. Your stomach twists, your heart contracts, and a sharp, familiar pang of jealousy settles in your chest. She’s still there. He’s still… connected to her somehow. Even in these casual, reckless moments with you, part of him is somewhere else. Somewhere that isn’t yours.
You shove the thought down, swallow the lump in your throat, and force yourself up. Shower. Dress. You go through the motions, but the sting lingers, and you can’t help replaying every detail of yesterday. Every kiss, every claim, every possessive touch.
Work is a blur. Emails, calls, meetings — everything dull, everything mechanical. Your mind keeps wandering back to him, to Suguru. You try to ignore it, but it’s impossible. He’s a constant echo in your thoughts, a shadow over your day.
Finally, the workday ends. You step outside your office building, keys in hand, ready to leave. And there he is. Naoya. Leaning casually by the steps of the office building, close enough to whisper something in your ear, close enough to make you smile, to make your chest flutter with warmth.
“Hey,” he murmurs, leaning in, mumbling something in your ear, and you can’t stop yourself from laughing. You feel light, unburdened for a moment. You’re just enjoying this, the teasing words, the closeness, the smile that won’t leave your lips.
But then — you feel it.
Eyes. His. Suguru’s. And suddenly the warmth drains from your chest, replaced with a cold, gnawing ache. You sense it more than see it: the intensity, the possessiveness, the quiet storm behind those eyes. You’re not sure if he’s angry, jealous, or… something worse, but it rattles you to your core.
You leave Naoya and head towards home, heart thudding. That night, neither of you call, neither of you speak. It’s not a regular thing; it’s just… whatever it is when it happens. And yet, you can’t shake it — the way he fucked you the next day, the way he was possessive without a word, his body claiming yours, the kisses sharper, more demanding, his hands leaving marks you can still feel on your skin. The mark he gave you around your left nipple. He never gave you marks around your neck because the next day…they will be a reminder of your conditional closeness.
When it’s done, he rises, preparing to go for dinner with his friends again. You watch him, you felt his possessiveness, something in your chest tightened, and in a moment of desperate, foolish hope, you wrap your arms around him from behind. Your hands press against his chest, your cheek resting against his back.
“I’m hungry,” you murmur, almost shyly. “Can I come with you too?”
He pauses, just slightly. But then — the shrug, the cold, precise words that slice right through you:
“No. It’s just my close friends. I don’t want them to get the wrong idea. They don’t know about you.”
They don’t know about me?
You freeze. The weight of his indifference, the casual brutality of it, hits you like a fist. He doesn’t speak about Naoya, doesn’t speak about Manami, doesn’t speak about anything that matters to your heart. You’re just… the girl he’s fucking. That’s it. That’s all.
You step back, your hands trembling. You want to argue, to protest, to make him see — see you — but you can’t. Because you already know. You’ve known from the start. And the cruel part is, part of you agreed to this. Agreed to be in this messy, beautiful, painful arrangement because it’s better than nothing, better than watching him with someone else, better than being entirely left out of his life.
And yet… it hurts. God, it hurts.
He moves past you, oblivious to the storm in your chest, and you can’t help it — the tears sting, the heat in your throat rises, and you swallow hard, telling yourself: he’s just Suguru. He’s always been like this. It’s just the way he is. It’s just the way it’s supposed to be.
But it doesn’t make it any less painful.
You hate how pathetic it makes you feel. You got teary almost in that exact moment, but you can’t show it to him, can you? You can’t say that hey, Suguru, I’m this stupid fucking bitch who’s been in love with you for years, who has always been in love with you, but I couldn’t say it, so I just settled for stupid friends-with-benefits because that’s how crazy I am for you. Yeah, just walk all over me. Can’t do that, right? So, you just let things happen.
It’s been a few days.
Same day at work. There’s this band’s concert that you both really like. You didn’t want to play around, didn’t want to make a fool of yourself again, but you just… simply shared a text with him. Asking if he’s up. You can see him from your cubicle. He’s an eye’s distance away. And then he smiles up and looks at you. God, you love his smile. Your mood lifts instantly. Okay… maybe that is a beginning of something, isn’t it?
Just so you notice that smile drift somewhere else. Behind you. To somebody else. To Yuki. The blonde. One of the prettiest girls at work. Of course. Of course, it’s her. You’ve made a fool of yourself again. You feel nauseous. Putting all these things to the back of your head—you will just never make yourself embarrassed again. Never, ever overstep… whatever this shit is that you’re into. You know you need to get out of it. It’s not serving any purpose.
You thought being casual would let you keep an eye on him, know who he’s meeting. But all it’s doing is causing pain, suffering, longing. Seeing Manami’s face come up on his phone. Seeing him smile at somebody else while he… while he fucked you. Like you were his. When you were talking to Naoya. It has to end. God, you feel nauseous. You feel so stupid. What have you gotten yourself into?
And as you finish up for work that day, you see him. He hasn’t replied to your texts. You can see him being chirpy with others. He is mostly reserved, so you don’t mind it. Things can get busy. But he certainly has time right now. You shouldn’t read too much into it. It’s casual. Remember?
⸻
Part-3
I was gonna post this tomorrow but I thought of giving y’all an early treat. I’m almost done with the next two parts too! 😚
You should’ve known this wasn’t going to be a normal babysitter interview the second Suguru Geto opened the door.
God, he was gorgeous. Hair tied back in a loose bun, a few strands framing his face. Broad chest under a black shirt with the sleeves pushed up, veins running along his forearms like sin sculpted in flesh. He leaned against the doorframe as if he had all the time in the world, eyes dragging over you so deliberately you felt like your skin had been peeled off.
“Babysitter?” he asked, voice low enough to curl between your thighs.
“Y-yeah,” you stammered, cursing the way your voice cracked.
He let you inside, the click of the lock behind you louder than it should’ve been. The living room was messy but lived-in, toys scattered, crayons abandoned on the table. But you couldn’t focus on any of it because Suguru gestured toward the couch, and when you sat, he followed—sitting much too close.
“So…” he said slowly, spreading his legs, leaning back like a king on his throne. “Tell me about yourself.”
Your resume and rehearsed answers evaporated under his gaze. You tried to talk about your experience, but his eyes never left your mouth. His smirk deepened every time you stumbled.
Then he leaned in, forearm resting on the back of the couch, so close you could smell him—smoke and spice, and something that made your stomach flip.
“And tell me,” he murmured, “are you good at following instructions?”
Your breath hitched. The way he asked it wasn’t professional. It was filthy.
“Yes,” you whispered before you could stop yourself.
His smile sharpened. “Good girl.”
Your thighs squeezed together. Heat pooled in your stomach. He knew. Of course he knew—his eyes dropped to the way your skirt rode up when you shifted, to the way your fingers twisted nervously in your lap.
“You’ll fit right in here,” Suguru said, but his gaze made it clear he wasn’t talking about the house.
Then—just when your brain was melting—he reached over. His fingers brushed your wrist, light but enough to jolt electricity through your veins. He toyed with the strap of your bag where it rested on your thigh, his knuckles grazing bare skin, casual like he didn’t just set your body on fire.
You swallowed hard. He tilted his head, studying your face like he was memorizing the exact second you broke under his attention.
“I’ll let you start this week,” he finally said, his tone dismissive but his hand still on your thigh. He squeezed, barely, just enough for you to gasp. Then he pulled away, standing, already walking toward the kitchen like nothing happened.
You sat there trembling, panties soaked, trying to remember how to breathe.
This wasn’t just a job. You were fucked.
It didn’t take long before you settled into Suguru’s house. The kids adored you—clingy little hands, sleepy giggles, crayons shoved into your palms. They were sweet, chaotic, and exhausting. But the real problem wasn’t them.
It was their father.
Suguru Geto had a way of filling the room even when he wasn’t saying anything. The way his deep voice echoed from the hallway when he called for the girls. The way his presence lingered in the kitchen long after he walked past you. The way his eyes—lazy, half-lidded, but always too sharp—never seemed to miss a single flinch, a single slip of your tongue.
The first night, he made tea. Simple. Harmless. Except when he handed you your cup, his hand lingered, fingertips brushing the inside of your wrist. You dropped your gaze, mumbling a thank you, but he didn’t let go right away. His thumb swept over your pulse. A touch so innocent it should’ve meant nothing. Instead, your thighs pressed together under the table, desperate to hide how wet you’d become over something so small.
The second night, you were sitting on the floor with the kids, braiding hair, crayons scattered everywhere. Suguru leaned against the doorframe, watching silently. His arms were crossed, tattoos peeking out from under his sleeve, and his eyes—God, his eyes. You could feel them on you, tracing down the line of your back, lingering on your thighs as you shifted on the carpet. When you glanced up, flustered, he only smirked, slow and dangerous.
“Good with your hands,” he commented. You nearly dropped the braid.
By the third night, you couldn’t take it anymore. The kids had fallen asleep early, tucked away in their beds, and the house was quiet—too quiet. You padded into the kitchen, needing water, needing anything to cool your body down.
Suguru was already there, leaning against the counter, a glass of whiskey in hand. The dim light glowed against his cheekbones, made the sharp line of his jaw look even sharper. He didn’t move when you entered. He just… watched.
“You’re settling in,” he said softly. Not a question.
“Y-yeah,” you whispered, clutching the glass you’d filled too tightly.
He took a slow sip, eyes never leaving yours. Then he set it down, and in three steps, he was in front of you. Too close. His scent—smoke, cedar, something dark and warm—wrapped around you until your knees weakened.
“You know,” he murmured, tilting his head as his hand brushed against your waist, “I wasn’t sure if you’d last this long.”
His fingers pressed just slightly, not quite a hold, not quite a claim. But enough to make your breath hitch.
“I can handle it,” you said, trying to sound steady. Your voice betrayed you, soft and trembling.
He leaned down, lips brushing dangerously close to your ear.
“I bet you can.”
Your grip on the glass slipped, water sloshing over the rim. His hand darted out, steadying it—steadying you—and for a single, burning moment, his body pressed flush to yours.
Your heart pounded, your breath caught, your whole body screamed to just tilt your head, just close the gap, just kiss him.
But then—he pulled back. Smirk tugging at his lips, dark eyes glinting with cruel amusement.
“Get some rest,” Suguru said smoothly, turning away, leaving you shaking in the kitchen. “Tomorrow will be another long night.
And you stood there, panties soaked, pulse racing, knowing this was only going to get worse before it got better.
The girls had gone down easy tonight—warm milk, bedtime stories, soft giggles fading into even softer snores. You should’ve felt relief. Instead, your body thrummed with nerves, with need. Because you could feel him tonight, even more than usual. The way his eyes lingered at dinner. The way his hand brushed your lower back when you carried the dishes away. The way he smirked when you caught yourself staring too long at his hands, his mouth, his chest.
And now, you were in the kitchen, rinsing cups, pretending not to notice that Suguru was behind you—leaning against the counter, sipping his whiskey, gaze burning a hole through the thin fabric of your dress.
“You work too hard,” he said finally, voice low and rough.
You froze, clutching the glass. “It’s part of the job.”
“No,” he murmured, and when you turned, he was already moving—closing the space between you in three long strides. “This isn’t part of the job.”
Your back hit the wall, sharp enough to make you gasp. His body caged you in, tall, broad, radiating heat. One of his hands pinned your wrists above your head, the other sliding down—slow, teasing—until it pressed firmly against your thigh.
“Suguru—”
“Don’t.” His eyes were dark, feral. “You’ve been tempting me since the moment you walked through that door. Acting sweet, sitting pretty, thinking I wouldn’t notice how wet you get when I call you a good girl?”
Your legs shook, heat pooling low in your belly. “I wasn’t—”
“Liar.” His hand slid higher, brushing the damp crotch of your panties. His lips ghosted over yours, close enough to make your whole body ache. “Say it. Say you wanted this.”
“I… I wanted this,” you whispered, breathless, shameless.
He growled—actually growled—and his mouth crashed against yours, all teeth and tongue and hunger. You moaned into him, wrists straining in his grip as his other hand shoved your panties aside and drove two thick fingers into you without warning.
You cried out, the sound swallowed by his kiss. His fingers curled just right, dragging against that spot inside you while his thumb circled your clit in devastating, practiced motions.
“Fuck,” he groaned into your mouth, pulling back to watch your face twist in pleasure. “So fucking wet already. Been dreaming about this—about bending you over my counter and ruining you while my kids sleep just down the hall.”
His pace was relentless. Slick noises filled the kitchen as he finger-fucked you hard, his palm smacking against your clit with every thrust. Your knees buckled. He didn’t let you fall—he pinned you harder against the wall, smirking.
“You gonna cum on my fingers, babysitter?” he rasped. “Gonna make a mess for me like the good girl you are?”
You nodded frantically, hips jerking. “Please—please, Suguru—”
He stopped. Pulled his fingers out with a wet pop, leaving you empty and trembling.
You whimpered, thighs shaking.
“Not yet.” He sucked his fingers into his mouth, groaning. “Fuck, you taste sweet. But I’m not done playing.”
In one swift motion, he turned you around, bending you over the counter. You gasped as his hips ground against your ass, the thick bulge of his cock straining against his sweats.
“Been dying to fuck you like this,” he growled, dragging your soaked panties down your thighs. “Bent over my counter, dripping for me, begging to be filled. And you’re gonna take it—quiet—like a good little babysitter.”
You barely had time to brace yourself before he shoved his sweats down and sank into you in one brutal thrust.
Your cry was muffled by his hand clamping over your mouth. “Shhh,” he whispered, teeth grazing your ear. “My girls are sleeping. You wouldn’t want to wake them, would you?”
Tears pricked your eyes from the stretch, from the overwhelming fullness. He was big—too big—and he wasn’t gentle. His hips slammed into you over and over, cock hitting so deep you saw stars.
“God, you’re tight,” he groaned, snapping his hips harder, faster. “Clenching around me like you’ve never been fucked right. Is that it? No one’s ever fucked you like this before?”
You moaned against his palm, shaking your head, shame and arousal blurring together.
“That’s right,” he snarled, grabbing your hair and yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him over your shoulder. “Only me. Only I can fuck you like this.”
His pace grew brutal, his cock slamming into you with obscene, wet sounds. The counter shook. Your legs trembled. Every thrust sent fire licking up your spine, your orgasm building fast, desperate.
“Cum,” he ordered, hand sliding down to rub your clit harshly. “Cum on my cock, now.”
You broke. Your vision went white, body convulsing as you came hard, clenching around him so tight he groaned your name like a prayer. He didn’t stop—he fucked you through it, chasing his own release.
“Fuck, fuck—” his thrusts grew sloppy, desperate. He pulled out just in time to spill hot ropes of cum all over your ass, groaning low and deep.
The kitchen smelled of sweat, sex, sin. You collapsed against the counter, panting, shaking.
Suguru dragged his fingers through the mess he left on you, then shoved them into your mouth, watching you suck obediently.
“Good girl,” he murmured, eyes dark and satisfied. “Knew you’d fit in here.”
And as he tucked himself away, kissed your temple like nothing happened, you realized with a shiver—this was only the beginning.
