the days leading up to geto’s tour had been a blur of textbooks and library sessions for you, while he was buried in rehearsals and gear checks. you missed him, but more than that, you were restless. you were the serious one, the one with the degree path, while he was the rockstar dropout who took what he wanted—especially in the bedroom. usually, he was the one pinning your wrists, his large, calloused hands guiding your pleasure with a commanding attitude. but after that late-night talk with shoko over too many drinks, and a few tips on how to break a man down, your perspective had shifted. You wanted to see suguru geto, the man who commanded a stage and a bedroom, completely at your mercy.
by the time you got home, your liquid courage was humming through your veins. you’d already changed into the set shoko helped you pick out; a pale, buttery yellow lace that made your curves pop and your skin glow. you noticed the dampness already staining the silk between your legs, the thought of your plan making your pussy pulse. the door slowly opened, and there he was. he looked delicious—sweaty, his dark tank top clinging to his muscular chest, his long hair falling out of its bun. you could see the subtle glint of his nipple piercings through the thin fabric.
you didn't give him a chance to say hello.
you pounced, wrapping your legs around his waist. he caught you instinctively, his large hands gripping your plush ass as his eyes—those small, piercing purple eyes—widened in surprise. you kissed him fiercely, the taste of the liquor on your tongue clashing with the salt of his skin. you reached up, grabbing a handful of his dark hair and pulling firmly, forcing his head back so you could dominate his mouth.
"someone’s feisty tonight" he smirked against your lips, his voice a low vibration that traveled straight to your clit. you felt him hardening against you, his thick cock straining against his jeans. you didn't answer; you just bit his bottom lip, feeling the cold slide of his tongue piercing against your mouth. you led him to the bedroom by the hand. he followed, half-amused and half-dazed, until you brought out the soft, silken ropes shoko had given you.
"strip." you commanded.
he paused, a smirk playing on his lips, but when he saw the serious, hungry look in your eyes, he obeyed. he shed his clothes until he was standing bare—muscular, tattooed, and already fully erect. you pushed him back onto the bed and moved with a speed that surprised even you, binding his wrists and ankles to the bedposts. "what are you doing baby?" he asked, his voice tensing slightly. he looked confused, his usual confidence wavering as he realized he couldn't move. "shh" you whispered, leaning down to slap his length. he winced and hissed, his hips twitching. you slid a tight cock ring over him, watching him throb as the blood stayed trapped in his shaft. "don't move unless I tell you to."
you sat back on your heels, letting him take in the sight of you in his favorite color. his eyes raked over your breasts and the curve of your hips, his breath hitching. you crawled over him, rubbing your clothed slick folds against his rigid shaft. you leaned down, your tongue swirling around his nipple piercings, the cold metal a sharp contrast to your warm mouth.
geto let out a high, strained whine—a sound you’d never heard from him before.
"don’t be shy, baby boy" you cooed, the nickname making him jump. "be as loud as you want. I want to hear how much you like this." he was weirded out by the sounds he was making, but he just couldn’t deny how good it felt. you marked him, sucking bruises onto his neck and shoulder. seeing his face twist up at such a small gesture made your pussy clench around nothing. he was babbling now, half-formed curses and pleas, his head thrashing against the pillow. you shifted, sliding your panties aside and sitting directly on his face.
"eat" you ordered.
he didn't hesitate. his tongue, weighted by that silver stud, found your clit with frantic precision. he groaned into your skin, his nose buried in your folds as he tried to drink you in. the sensation was overwhelming; you felt the coil in your gut tightening until it was unbearable. you stood up abruptly, just before you could orgasm, leaving him gasping and pussydrunk, his face smeared with your nectar. "you look like a desperate puppy, suguru. get your shit together."
he looked up at you, eyes unfocused, his chest heaving. before he could respond, you mounted him, sinking down in one hard, fluid motion. your walls clenched around his long, veiny shaft, and he let out a guttural scream that echoed off the walls. "fuuuhhckk!" he dragged out, his hips bucking uselessly against the restraints. the cock ring the only thing keeping him from cumming right then and there.
you started to ride him, your movements greedy and rhythmic. you pinched his nipples, watching his face contort in a mix of agony and ecstasy. moaning his name into his ear over and over, letting him hear exactly what he was doing to you. "yesyesyesyes…hngh!! fu- ohhmyygodd..! yes! just like that yes! please don’t stop!" he was babbling, his toes curling as he strained against the ropes. you leaned down, whispering into his ear as you felt your own climax rushing toward you, giving him one last hard clench. "cum for me, suguru. fill me up like a good little dog."
that was his breaking point.
he arched his back, his muscles snapping as he spilled into you, a long, desperate moan tearing from his throat. you followed right after, your body shaking as you squirted against his lower belly, collapsing onto his chest. after a long silence, you smirked against his skin. "didn't know you were such a baby." he let out a huff, his heart still hammering against your ear. "that was a one-time thing. I was exhausted."
"sure" you whispered, smiling.
———
a week later, geto was thousands of miles away, but he wasn't thinking about the music. he was staring at the ceiling of the tour bus, his mind trapped in a loop of that night. it was getting harder to breathe, harder to focus. and if that wasn’t enough, as he finally drifted into a shallow sleep, he found himself back there. but this time, it was more intense. was he having a wet dream right now? how old was he? 13?
he felt the weight of a leather collar around his neck and the frantic buzz of vibrators attached to his nipples. you were there, looking down at him with a predatory smile, tugging on the leash attached to his throat. "focus on me, suguru. look at me." in the dream, he was weeping with pleasure, his body a raw nerve. you rode him ruthlessly, the vibrations and your tight heat driving him to the brink of insanity. "yeahh mm... so so good sugu" you cooed in his ear.
"mngh...shitshitshit...mffgh yes! don’t stop!" he moaned, his hips thrusting into empty air as he felt the ghost of a climax rip through him.
suddenly, a loud, jarring burst of laughter broke the silence.
geto’s eyes snapped open. he wasn't in the bedroom at home. he was in his bunk on the bus. and he wasn't alone.
satoru, and the rest of the band were crowded around him, some of them holding phones up. satoru especially was doubled over, tears of laughter streaming down his face. "oh my god," gojo wheezed, pointing at geto. "you were actually moaning, dude! 'don't stop'? 'babyboy'?" geto’s face turned a shade of red that rivaled a sunset. he looked down, horrified to see a massive, damp patch spreading across his grey boxers. he’d had a wet dream so vivid he’d acted it out in front of his best friends. he even had an orgasm.
"you were whimpering like a hurt dog, suguru," another one said, though they looked more impressed than anything. "whatever she did to you before we left... it clearly worked." "get the fuck out!" geto roared, throwing a pillow at gojo and lunging to close his bunk curtain. "all of you! out!"
as their laughter faded down the hallway, geto buried his face in his hands, his heart still racing from the dream. He was humiliated, shaking, and still half-hard. He let out a long, shaky breath, thinking of you back home, probably studying peacefully. "payback.." he muttered to the dark, his eyes narrowing with a promise of what was coming when he got back. you have no idea what’s coming for you… he thought to himself.
• he always has an arm around you. sitting on the curb with his skateboard next to him, your legs over his lap. one arm lazily slung around your shoulders with constant cheek kisses. walking behind you, skating up to you, dropping a quick kiss. you like to play with his chain when you’re curled up with him. twisting it between your fingers, lightly tugging it so he looks at you, and when he does you cup his face with both hands and kiss him. Ray always pulls away from that kiss grinning hard, like he’s never gonna get over you
• he loves dressing you in his clothes. oversized polos that hang off your shoulder, baggy jeans that you have to fold at the waist to keep up. he looks you up and down with that slow grin, eyes lingering on your thighs completely covered in denim or the way your hands peek out of his long sleeves. “Shit baby… you look good” he mumbles, bottom lip tucked into a smile as he tugs you into him by the belt loops of the jeans
• anytime you tug on his sleeve and go “Ray I like your hoodie” he looks down at it like he hadn’t even noticed what he was wearing, then smirks and shrugs“Oh yeah?” he’ll say, casual as ever but hours later, you’re wearing it
• out of all his friends, Ray’s the most thoughtful. while the others are talking shit or are doing something dumb, Ray’s the one with his hand on your knee, letting you lean into him, not afraid to say things like “I fuckin’ love you, you know that?” out loud where everyone can hear
• his friends tease him constantly “She got you goin’ soft” but Ray just shrugs it off
• Ray doesn’t bring you around his friends not because he’s hiding you, never that. but because he respects you. he knows how they talk, how they act, the dumb shit they do when they’re high or skating reckless. the kind of guys who run their mouths and push boundaries just to see who’ll flinch. you’re not like that. you’re good, thoughtful, a little shy sometimes and Ray knows damn well his group wouldn’t know how to act around someone like you. he’ll tell you gently, one night when you’re curled up next to him on the edge of his bed “It’s not you” he says “I just… I don’t want you around that shit. They’re not like you baby.” you nod, because you get it. you’ve heard the stories, seen them from a distance, but you also know how much they mean to Ray
• with his friends, he’s cool, collected, guarded. but with you he softens. you see parts of him no one else gets to. he shows up to your place with his hoodie in his hands already, he sends you videos of the tricks he’s working on, voice in the background asking “You think that one’s clean?” you always answer yes. always support him, even when he’s frustrated after hours of failed tricks and busted palms
• “You’re gonna go pro one day” you tell him, even when he’s doubting himself. you hold his scraped hands, clean his cuts “You believe in me more than I do” he says. you see the part of him that wants more out of life, out of skating, out of love
• he tries hard to balance skating, friendships, and you. he doesn’t always get it right, but he’s trying. you see it every time he lets a call from fuckshit go to voicemail, or when he skips a skate sesh to walk you home even. sometimes he disappears for a few hours, skating, not texting back until later
• and when you rest your head on his shoulder, playing with his chain or the strings of his hoodie, he’ll kiss your temple and mumble “You’re too good for me, you know that?” but you never let him say that for too long. you remind him he deserves someone who believes in him, someone who loves him. even if you never meet his friends he still tells you, in small ways, you’re the only one who really knows him
• you knew from the jump how he was. you knew about the parties, the weed, the late nights. so when you started dating, and he got serious about you, he started asking even if he already knew the answer
“Hey… fuckshit got this party-” your eyebrows immediately knit together. he doesn’t even get the sentence out “No.” he stops mid thought, lips twitching at the corner “Alright” he says easily, tossing his phone onto the bed like it was nothing. “Wasn’t tryna go anyway.” instead, he crawls over to where you’re sitting, tugs you into his lap, kisses the side of your neck
• later that night, you’re curled up next to him, legs tangled in his while he edits a clip of his skating on your phone. you’re playing with the chain around his neck again, and he murmurs “They don’t get it, you know…” you look up at him. “What don’t they get?” he glances at you. shrugs and smiles slow “Why I’d rather be here with you.” and maybe he is going soft but for once, he’s okay with that
• Ray didn’t want to meet your parents. he never outright said no, but the first time you brought it up, he shifted uncomfortably and mumbled “I don’t know baby…” he looked everywhere but at you, at the seam of the couch, the scab on his knuckle. he wasn’t scared of much, but parents, grown ups judging him before he even got to say a word made him feel small. but it mattered to you, so he showed up. he tried his best, truly. cleaned under his nails, put on the one polo shirt that didn’t have a stain on it. still wore his baggy jeans, but pulled a belt tight so they sat right. he came on his skateboard, of course but chucked it behind your parents’ bushes before walking up to the porch. you saw him do it from the window and had to bite back a laugh. inside, he was polite. awkward as hell, but polite. “It’s nice to meet you, sir… ma’am” he said, standing too straight like someone told him once that’s what you do in front of people’s dads. he didn’t touch you, even though he wanted to. he just let you sit close while he nervously answered every question your dad tossed his way. your mom gave him a once over look like she was still deciding. your dad was even more of a brick wall. but Ray didn’t backdown. he listened, nodded, gave honest answers about school, skating, even admitted he’d had a few “rough patches.” he didn’t pretend to be perfect but he made sure to say “I really care about your daughter. a lot.” it took time. at first, your parents weren’t sure. but slowly after seeing how gentle he was with you, how he opened car doors without being told, how he always said thank you when your mom made dinner they started to come around.
