Whoops

Whoops

Pairing: Kakashi x Female!Reader

Warnings: smut, sex pollen, consensual somnophilia, substances, oral sex + rimming (female receiving), vaginal fingering, anal fingering + anal sex (female receiving), rough sex, playful sex, unprotected sex, edging, spanking, creampie, soft!dom!kakashi, this fic had no right being so fucking filthy, 'honey' used one (1) time as a pet name, safe word mention, so! much! banter!!!

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: When you and Kakashi both forget to bring along something important on a mission, the two of you have to fight the effects of an aphrodisiac without.

—

You and Kakashi stare down at the single white pill on the coffee table of your inn room. His thigh presses against yours as the two of you sit side-by-side, allowing you to feel the heat radiating off of him—which is certainly, well, something, because your own body also feels way too hot. Stupidly hot.

“How could you forget to pack more detox pills?” Kakashi asks, looking over at you in mild disbelief. His cheeks appear rosy where they peek out above his mask, but you know it’s not so much from embarrassment as it is from the poison you’d both been hit by some hours ago.

You shoot him a half-hearted glare. “How could you forget to pack condoms?”

The two of you would have been dosed just before dinner. That’s the only time an enemy trap had sprung, but there hadn’t been much of an effect until the middle of the night, long after the shops had closed and you’d settled in for sleep.

At the time, you'd both assumed that it was just a bit of dust from the trap's explosion. Whoops.

Your first aid kit really should have had more pills in it than just the one, but you can’t remember the last time you did an inventory. And Kakashi, by regulation, should have had condoms in his bag in the event of a situation like this.

Maybe he’d forgotten to double check his reserves, same as you. Whoops, again.

You can feel the sweat beading on your forehead, feel the warmth of a flush slowly creeping up your neck and onto your face. Kakashi really is quite attractive—you’ve always thought so—and with the aphrodisiac coursing through your veins, your attraction to him has been cranked up to eleven.

Fuck, your pussy aches, and only he can fill it the way that you need.

With a weary sigh, your mission partner leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest in a manner that makes him look deceivingly relaxed. “You take it,” Kakashi says, his uncovered eye drifting down your body, canvassing every inch. Then it flicks back up to yours. “You seem to have been hit harder than I was. I should be able to manage without.”

You swallow thickly at the mental imagery his words bring on. He’ll have to rub one out. More than one, most likely. “We should cut it in half. You’re still—”

“No. You’re smaller than I am, and you’re dealing with a stronger dose.”

Having your size difference acknowledged so plainly makes you throb, because he’s right. You are a lot smaller than he is, and you’d love for him to manhandle you and prove it.

“Now take the pill before it gets any worse,” he tells you flatly. “That’s an order.”

“Ugh, fine.”

Annoyed that Kakashi would seriously pull rank on you in this situation, you grab the pill and pop it into your mouth, before you chase it with a glass of water.

Then you frown at him. “If you can’t manage, let me know. I’ll help. I mean it. We may not be able to,” you jokingly make a rude gesture indicating sex, “you know, without a condom, but I know how shitty it can be to try and get through this on your own. Okay?”

If he’d brought condoms, he’d probably already be inside you right now.

God, you feel so fucking empty.

“Okay,” Kakashi agrees, clearly unbothered by the suggestion. The two of you are shinobi first, and people second. Your bodies are tools to be used in service of your village. He knows that, same as you do.

This also wouldn’t be the first time either of you have encountered an aphrodisiac. You’re both too experienced in the field to have that sort of plausible deniability. Not to mention the fact that, if it gets worse during the night, then his life could actually be at risk. Aphrodisiacs are still poison, albeit more pleasant than the usual suspects.

Kakashi gets a pensive look about him, then. “The pill will probably knock you out, you know. What then?”

You grimace. Right. So much time has passed since you last needed to take one that you’d forgotten. Forcing rest helps the body to heal more quickly, or some such. It’s terribly inconvenient.

“Well…” There really isn’t another option. If his hand isn’t enough, your unconscious body will have to be, because you sure as hell aren’t waking up to a dead teammate tomorrow. “You can use me,” you say finally, cursing your horny brain for actually enjoying the idea of it, of him using you for his pleasure while you’re asleep. “Take what you need, even if I’m passed out. You have my permission. Just don’t hurt me, and don’t knock me up.”

A lick of heat comes into that dark grey eye of his, before he clears his throat and nods. “All right.” When he pulls himself to his feet, it’s impossible to miss the tent in his tac pants, though you make sure to keep your eyes above his waist out of respect for him. “Get some rest. I’ll try not to disturb you unless I have to.”

“Have fun,” you say sweetly, waggling your fingers in a wave as he heads to the bathroom to sort himself out.

—

Blearily, you wake to the sensation of fingers slicking through your folds.

The plush of your futon cushions your body, just as you remember upon going to sleep, though your yukata seems to have since been pulled open at the front judging by the slight chill in the air. It brings goosebumps to the surface of your naked skin, and pebbles your nipples, bared to the night.

The poison seems to have worn off—of you, at least. You aren’t so stupidly hot anymore, but your tits and stomach do feel a bit sticky with a smattering of wetness cooling on your skin.

It’s cum, you vaguely realise. A lot of it.

Heat pools in your abdomen at the realisation that Kakashi used you—your nudity—for masturbation fodder. And now, he has your thighs splayed wide, allowing you to feel the heat of his breath against your soaked core while his thumbs spread you open.

You should tell him that it’s okay. You should tell him that you don’t mind, that he can do whatever he needs to with you, but there’s something unbelievably sexy about him using you for his own enjoyment without you ever knowing. Then again, you’re still pretty out of it from the meds.

When his hot tongue drags up through your slit, a pleasured sound bubbles up from your throat before you can help it. He’s good with his mouth.

Kakashi chuckles against you, swirling his tongue over your clit until your hips jerk. “Finally awake?”

“M’still sleepy,” you slur drowsily, rubbing at your eyes.

He hums in response, sluicing his fingers through your slick heat. You expect him to slide them into your aching core, but instead he moves a little lower, circling the rim of your ass with a fingertip. A glob of saliva joins it, before he coos, “I’m sorry for waking you. Is this okay?”

It’s been some time since you had anal, and the thought of it with him only makes you want it more. Maybe there is still some poison coursing through your veins. You’re too out of it for the pill to have fully done its job.

“Yeah,” you sigh, relaxing into his touch.

He flattens his tongue over your clit as he slowly eases his finger inside your tight hole. It’s a bit of a stretch, but you take it easily, moaning at the sensation.

“I know this isn’t ideal,” Kakashi murmurs against your heated flesh, sounding apologetic. “I would have loved to fuck you here,” he delves his tongue into your cunt for a moment, pulling a quiet gasp from you, “if I hadn’t already gotten off a few times. You’re so wet.”

It’s too risky for him to fuck your pussy with whatever semen might be lingering behind. He’s respecting your boundaries, but you’re sure he doesn’t want to take the chance, either.

“S’fine,” you answer sleepily. “Feels good.”

“If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

“Mm. Okay.”

Time passes like a fever dream. You still feel foggy from the pill, and the pleasurable sensations that Kakashi bestows upon you only muddle your brain even further.

Soon your thighs are squeezing around his head, your fingers buried in soft, silvery hair as he edges you with his mouth for what must be the third time—or more, but you’re too out of it to really keep track. With each near-orgasm, he eases another finger inside, slowly but surely stretching out your tiny hole to take him.

When your body starts to quiver from pent-up release, he carefully withdraws his fingers from your ass and folds your thighs to your chest. Then, his tongue presses into your tight rim, tasting you directly.

The choked moan that rips out of you is nothing short of ungraceful. “K-Kashi,” you slur, cracking your eyes open to blearily meet his. “You don’t have to—mm!”

Kakashi gives you another long, savoury lick, holding eye contact the entire time, before he sits back up onto his knees and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re offering me your body,” he rasps, smoothing his hand along your calf where it rests on his shoulder. “The least I can do is make sure you enjoy it.”

Then he spits into his palm, messy and wet, and slicks up his cock with saliva. The action is so vulgar that your pussy clenches around nothing.

“Are you ready? I’m happy to prepare you more if you need it.”

“I’ll let you know if I’m not,” you answer breathily. It’s hard to see him in the darkness of your inn room, even if your body falls within the cascade of moonlight coming in through the window. You can still make out the shine of his eyes and the sharp, hard lines of his muscular body, but his face remains in shadow.

Damn it. You really want to see what he looks like under his mask.

“I’ll go slow,” he promises, and he does. Even though you can feel the heat coming off of his skin, and even though you can almost guarantee he’s just as horny as you’d been earlier, he takes it slow.

Kakashi has always had more self-restraint than you, even now.

His cock really is big, too—not bigger than you expected, but it’s definitely a stretch. He presses in carefully, not even an inch at a time, taking in every single one of your reactions to ensure that he doesn’t hurt you.

Your face screws up when the head pops in, locked inside by the tight squeeze of your body. “Fuck,” you choke out. “It’s big.”

He licks his thumb, before he brings it to your clit, rubbing soft circles over it to help ease you into the stretch. “Better?”

You make a soft, pleased noise in the back of your throat. It is better. It helps quite a bit, actually, by offering a distraction for when he slides in a bit further and you encounter a small amount of pain. Nothing severe; it just comes with the territory.

Even still, your hand flies down to jam against his thigh, keep him from going any deeper.

“It’s okay,” he says gently. “I’ll wait.”

And he does.

By the time he’s all the way inside, you’re practically panting like a dog because he feels so fucking good. Your empty cunt still aches to be filled, but the slow, beautiful glide as he pulls nearly all the way out of your other hole is a welcome alternative.

Kakashi adjusts your leg on his shoulder for a better grip. “Ready?”

You nod your head, peering up at him in the darkness.

Then he pushes back inside, all at once, and you both groan.

“I’m not gonna last long,” you gasp when he does it again, and he lets out a laugh that sounds almost as winded as you feel.

“Neither am I.”

Kakashi treats you like glass in the way that he handles you, ensuring that it’s good for you, but there’s an undercurrent of need in his every movement, his every touch. You can feel it when his fingers dig firmly into the meat of your thigh; feel it in that slight loss of control every so often, when he thrusts hard, once, then reins it back in.

He’s prioritising your comfort, but he needs more.

“More,” you beg, because you need it, too.

He lowers your leg down and leans forward onto his hands, caging your body in between. The moonlight finally, finally reveals his face, and fuck, he just might be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen. Strong, angular features paired with soft lips and a beauty mark on his chin—

God, he’s gorgeous.

“More?” Kakashi asks amusedly. “Are you sure you can handle it?”

He snaps his hips forward once, testing your resolve.

You keen, balling your fists in the sheets. “Yes, I can fucking handle—”

But you don’t finish, because when Kakashi shifts back slightly to allow another glob of saliva to fall from his mouth and onto the place where the two of you are connected, something in your brain breaks at the sight. It’s filthy, messy, wet—absolutely nothing like what you’ve come to expect from your mission partner, reserved as he is.

Then you remember that Kakashi ate your ass without a shred of hesitation, and the memory is such a turn-on that you wiggle your hips impatiently.

He’s just as much of a freak as you are. He just hides it better.

Another soft laugh leaves him at that. “Needy,” he teases so affectionately that your cheeks burn, but you barely notice because he’s already fucking into you again, so firm and unyielding in his thrusts that you can practically feel the impact in your throat.

You curse something unintelligible, grabbing at the futon above your head to brace yourself. It feels so mind-numbingly good that you swear you might be going insane—or maybe that’s because the haze from the meds still hasn’t fully cleared.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as Kakashi well and truly gives you more, just like you asked for. Every time he hits as deep as he can go, you feel another shred of his self-control slip until he shoves your thighs up next to your ears and leans forward to trap your knees in the crooks of his elbows.

Then he fucks you harder.

You can see the aphrodisiac plain as day on his face, in the beautiful flush that colours his cheeks and chest and the sweat that dots his brow. Some of his hair sticks to his forehead, and when his near-manic eyes lock onto yours, you’re held captive under his hungry gaze.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asks raggedly. The muscles in his arms tense and strain as he holds himself above you, pounding into you, his lips curling up to reveal the slight point of a canine. “Maa, I just might break you at this rate, you know?”

It’s almost impossible to think, let alone string a sentence together, but you do it somehow. “Break me, then,” you demand, sounding breathless, each word punching out of your lungs with another forceful thrust.

A dark note of desire comes into his features, sharingan swirling just a tiny bit faster when you reach your hand between your legs to play with your clit. As if the sensation wasn’t enough already, the sight of him looking so debauched could easily do you in.

And it would, too, if Kakashi didn’t bat your hand away. He drops down onto an elbow to change the angle, and although his cum smears wet between your bodies, neither of you notice, let alone care.

Instead, your attention is drawn to the two fingers he plunges into your cunt.

“You want me to break you, honey?” he asks, voice low, and a choked sort of wheeze rips out of you as he roughly crooks his fingers up into your g-spot. “All right. I’ll break you. Would you like that?”

Scratch that, he might be even more of a freak than you are, and you fucking love it.

“Yes,” you cry. It’s all you can do.

Kakashi doesn’t pump his fingers in and out; instead, he uses them to bully your g-spot exclusively, dragging his thumb over your clit with every brutal snap of his hips. Your eyes roll back at the combined sensation, the overwhelm of it all, and you can’t even manage to get another word out—just an embarrassing mix of gasps and whines.

“Oh, look at you,” he sighs appreciatively. “Are you close?”

Your cunt flutters around his fingers as if to answer the question, and he lets out a knowing hum. Then, right before you crest, Kakashi pulls out of your ass and drops down to devour your pussy with an urgency that makes your toes curl.

“Shit,” you squeal, your body writhing under his sudden onslaught.

He hooks his fingers up into your g-spot again and again, the wet, sloppy sound of you echoing throughout the room as he finger-fucks you into oblivion, all the while sucking on your clit until you can’t handle it anymore.

“M’gonna—fuck,” you swear, grabbing at his hair as you ride his pretty face to completion. Your eyebrows scrunch together as you look down at him, admiring the sight of him, the way he’s focused so intently on your pleasure. “Yes, yes—”

The intensity in his eyes when they snap up to meet yours is what finally sends you over.

You shatter apart with distinctly wet gush that soaks your futon straight through to the tatami, but before you’re even finished convulsing, he’s already on top of you again, sliding right back into your poor, abused asshole until he bottoms out.

You choke. The size of him is even more noticeable after your orgasm, especially with the aftershocks still rippling through your body, but it feels good. Mostly.

He pauses, a flicker of softness in his expression. “Too much?”

“Never,” you say, offering what you intend to be a cocky smirk, even though you can barely keep your eyes open thanks to how fucked out you feel.  

His brows raise in surprise, just for a split-second, before he laughs softly and starts to ease in and out of you in slow, patient strokes, giving you a chance to adjust in spite of your bravado. “It’s a shame we didn’t do this sooner,” he comments, tone teasing. “We could have had a lot more fun on all those courier missions last year.”

You snort. “Don’t forget those awful recon missions in the snow.”

“Would have been a great way to keep warm,” he jokes, before his gaze trails over your face for a prolonged moment. “Better?”

You offer him a grateful smile, before you lick your lips, relishing in how his focus drops to your mouth for the briefest of moments. “Yeah. Now fuck me like you mean it, Hatake.”

“Oh?” There’s a look in his eyes that makes you realise you’re probably going to regret that, especially when he tilts his head in his familiar way—just like when he’s about to knock you on your ass in a sparring match. “You didn’t think I meant it before?”

“No,” you answer snootily, because you’re a glutton for punishment.

“I see, I see,” he hums. “My mistake.”

In one fell swoop, you’re flat on your stomach, your head pressed into the futon by one of his large hands; and then he’s spreading your cheeks, spitting crudely onto your hole, and straddling your thighs so you can’t get away.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, your cheek mashing into the sheets as he shoves his cock deep inside your stretched-out channel, deeper than he’d been previously.

All sense of softness is gone, now, replaced by a brutality that makes your eyes cross. Kakashi fucks into you hard, relentless in his pursuit to break you just like you wanted, and you love every second of it.

“What do you think, hm? Do I mean it now?” Kakashi asks lightly, after which his free hand claps down hard on your ass when you struggle to piece together an answer. “I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” you croak out, drooling onto the sheets.

“Hm?” Another spank, harder this time, and you hiss in pain. “I don’t think I heard you.”

“Yes!” Your voice cracks on the word, and when he slows down to check on you, you rush to add, desperation in your tone, “Green, fuck, don’t—”

The hand he’d been using to holding your head down embeds itself in your hair, before he yanks you up, making your back arch almost to the point of discomfort. His other arm snakes around your front and between your breasts, his fingers wrapping loosely around your throat as he pulls your body flush against his chest.

“You even know safe words,” Kakashi murmurs into your ear, grinding his hips into yours. “Why the hell didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Probably—hah—because we work together,” you say breathlessly, leaning your head back onto his shoulder, “and because Lady Fifth would kill us for fraternizing.”

His laughter puffs hot against the shell of your ear. “What a way to die.”

He releases your hair and slides his hand between your legs in order to messily work your clit. Your thighs tremble and shake from the added stimulation, your moans only increasing in volume the longer it goes on.

Five seconds, maybe? Ten? You can’t be sure.

“God, I feel like I’m drunk,” you groan, your words still slurring just a little. Time doesn’t feel like a real construct right now; all you know is that Kakashi is the only thing grounding you, keeping you from drifting away with the breeze.

“I know, I’m sorry. I waited as long as I could for the pill to wear off.” Then he presses an apologetic kiss to your temple, and a warm, happy shiver ricochets through you due to the affection behind it. “Do you want to stop? I should be able to manage from here.”

“No,” you breathe. “S’fun, just a little out of it.”

“Still want me to break you?”

You shake your head. “I’m getting sore.”

“All right.” He releases you, then, and carefully withdraws. “Lay on your back again. I’ll try to be quick.”

You do as he instructs, shifting onto your back with your legs spread. As you watch Kakashi smear a bit more spit onto his cock, you make a mental note to pack condoms and lube in your bag for future missions—you know, just in case.

He settles back between your thighs, his expression now reminiscent of what you’re used to: calm, serious, measured as he searches your face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you sure? We don’t have to keep going if you’re sore.”

“Mm, yeah. I think I can come again.”

“Yeah? Then I’ll make it happen.”

Kakashi holds himself at your entrance, still watching your face as he starts to ease back inside, and he does it so gently, so tenderly, that you might actually be tempted to fall for him. You’ve never seen this side of him until tonight, even though you’ve been working together off and on for years.

“You’re sweet,” you say without thinking.

His eyebrows shoot straight up onto his forehead, before he coughs back a laugh. “My cock is in your ass, and you think I’m sweet?”

Well, when he puts it like that, he has a point. “No, never mind, I take that back,” you respond haughtily, but there’s no heat behind it, only humour. “You’re a dick. My bad.”

This time, he does laugh. Kakashi smooths his palm along your thigh as he hooks it over his hip. “Yes, yes. Now, how do you want it? Like this? Or…” He drops back down onto his forearms, pressing your bodies together, and studies your reaction. “Like this? What’s more comfortable?”

You wrap your arms around his neck and lean up to brush his nose with yours, teasing and affectionate. “Like this.”

His eyes shine warmly. “Can I kiss you?”

The question throws you, because he hasn’t kissed you yet. How the hell hasn’t he kissed you yet? “Yeah. Yes. Please.”

He smiles just a little before his lips slot over yours, and your body thrums electric as he begins to rock into you with sensual, fluid movements that alleviate that incessant ache in your abdomen.

“Touch yourself,” Kakashi breathes into your mouth, following the words with his tongue like he intends to explore every inch of you, maybe steal your breath while he’s at it. You’d let him, too. He’s that good of a kisser.

When you shove your hand between your bodies and find your clit, you throw your head back to bite out a swear. “S-Shit, that’s good—”

He kisses a blazing trail up the line of your neck, his teeth scraping pleasantly against your skin every so often. “You like it when I’m sweet to you?”

Of course he’d still be making fun of you for that. You can hear it in his tone, but you don’t pay it any mind because he feels so fucking good that you want to scream. It’s all you can do to make a soft little sound in the affirmative, your nails digging into his back.

“Good,” he murmurs, “because I like being sweet to you.”

You whine as he lovingly sucks a bruise on your neck, laving his tongue over the mark to soothe it after.

Then he pulls back just slightly to meet your heavy-lidded gaze. “Where do you want it? I’m not going to last much longer.” 

Your breath comes out in short, sharp pants as he brings you higher—and himself, too, judging by his bitten-back moan of approval when you lock your ankles behind his back. “Inside,” you breathe. “Need it inside.”  

“Fuck, I know you do. Are you—?”

You nod your head frantically as you hold the eye contact, though it becomes increasingly harder to do so the closer you get to the edge. Your eyelids flutter when he hits a particularly good spot inside of you, which he makes a point to target from then on.

“Oh, fuck. Oh my god,” you babble mindlessly, clutching at his shoulders with one hand, rubbing at your clit with the other. “Yes, right there, just like that—”

Kakashi holds you gently under your chin, his fingertips pressing into your cheeks to ensure that you can’t look away, and there’s a fondness to his expression as he watches you fall apart. “Yeah? Like that?”

“Yes,” you sob. “Yes, yes, yes—”

When Kakashi kisses you again, there’s no decorum to it, no finesse, and your teeth click against his from the sheer desperation behind it. His tongue pushes deeply into your mouth, stifling your moans as you finally come undone, your muscles bearing down around him so tightly that he has no choice but to shove in as far as he can go and coat your insides with his cum.

He groans against your lips, and the sudden burst of heat deep inside your body brings on a sense of warm, fuzzy contentment—the satisfaction of a job well done.

As the aftershocks fade, your heart pounds a frenzied tattoo within the confines of your chest as you work to regain your breath. Then Kakashi slumps against you, boneless and fatigued and heavy as hell.

You grunt when he all but crushes you under his weight.

“I don’t think I can move,” he says tiredly, muffled with his face buried in your neck. “I think I pulled something.”

“Oh, poor baby.”

At that, he only lays more heavily on you, purposely, which knocks more of the breath out of your lungs; but he does lift up after a moment, and the way he rolls off of you and onto the futon, splaying out spread eagle, would be funny if you weren’t aware of how exhausting the comedown can be from an aphrodisiac.

He’s probably thoroughly tapped out. It’s impossible to say how many times he got off, not to mention all the physical exertion he’d gone through to get there.

“Did you die?” you ask.

“Probably. Your ass did feel like heaven.”

When you groan at his terrible joke and give his side a playful shove, Kakashi chuckles, and god, he sounds beyond tapped out. You’re actually a little concerned, so you lean up onto an elbow to give him a once-over, make sure he’s all right.

That pretty red flush is thankfully beginning to recede from his skin, though you find a number of scratch marks from your fingernails around his shoulders and upper arms. A surge of feminine pride flows through you upon seeing them, and you absently trace one with your fingertip before you finally glance up at his face, only to find him watching you in amusement.

“Pervert,” he says.

You choke on a laugh. “Excuse me?”

Kakashi tucks one of his arms behind his head as a makeshift pillow, looking entirely too self-satisfied for your liking. “You’re just as bad as I am. I could have sworn you’d be more vanilla.”

You turn your nose up at him. “Well, I already knew you were a pervert. You read porn in public.”  

“Erotic novels,” he corrects pointedly.

“Sorry, you read erotic novels in public. Because that’s so much better.”

The two of you look at each other for a moment, trying not to smile at the banter, before you roll your eyes in mock annoyance and lay back down, resting your head on his chest. Kakashi wraps his free arm comfortably around you, trailing delicate patterns along your shoulder with his fingertips.

“Are you feeling better?” you ask quietly.

“A bit. Thank you. I hope you aren’t too sore.”

“Oh, I’m definitely gonna feel it tomorrow. I haven’t done anal in months.” Then you lift your head to give him a cheeky grin. “Worth it, though. I mean, I finally got to see your face after all these years, so I’m not complaining.”

His lips twitch, like he’s trying not to laugh. “You could have just asked.”

You scoff. “Pass.”

Then you go to lay your head back down, but he stops you.

“Wait. Look at me.” When you do as he says, Kakashi brushes his thumb along the corner of your mouth. “You’ve got something right here.”

“What?” Frowning, you lift your chin a little so he can have a better look. “Well, get it, then.”

Before you can react, he leans in to give you a quick, unexpected kiss.

You blink at him, your heartbeat stuttering inside of your chest.

“Got it,” he hums, licking his lips.

Your cheeks flush all over again. “You—That’s—”

“What, am I only allowed to kiss you if I’m inside you?”

“No! Just…” Your face feels on fire, and you look away, embarrassed. There’s a difference between sex and intimacy, and you’ve just discovered the fine line that separates them. “Just warn me next time.”

“All right.” You can hear the amusement in his voice, but he doesn’t poke fun at you any longer. Instead, Kakashi leans up to grab the blankets with his free hand, after which he pulls them over you both and wraps that same arm around you, holding you closer than before. “Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow.”  

Nestled comfortably in his arms, you finally allow your eyelids to flutter shut. “Night, Kakashi.”

His lips brush tenderly over your forehead, before he whispers, “Goodnight.”

—

A/N: yes they need a shower. no we do not acknowledge this. lmao

thank you for reading! if you could please please please keysmash in the comments or reblog to show your appreciation, it would give me sooo much dopamine :)) thank you!!!

❥ life of the party | suguru geto

warnings: fem! reader, college au! geto, frat boy! geto, alcohol consumption, marijuana use, sex while high, protected sex, geto is a gentlemen in the streets and a freak in the sheets, needy geto, cunnilingus, rough sex, mating press, degredation, sadist geto mention, geto is a top, shoko, gojo, nananmi, haibara, mei mei, and utahime mentioned, proofread, b99 mention, this is absolute filth

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.4k

100 follower special - i love you all so much <3

did i name this after a song by the weekend? yes i did

Being a homebody had its perks. You didn’t have to go anywhere you didn’t want to, and all of your stuff was in one place, always within arms' reach. Your remote? On the nightstand. Boom, that was your source of entertainment for the night. Who needed to out when you could binge Brooklyn Nine-Nine? Not you, that’s who. 

Introversion also came with being a homebody, like a buy-one-get-one deal. You were known for being quiet, always sitting in the back of the lecture hall with one earphone in, diligently taking notes that your classmates always asked to copy after the lecture. You never understood why people paid so much to party at university; why not just get the degree? Stay quiet, do your work, get that piece of paper, make bank. You thought that was a good life goal.

But when your best friend Shoko begged and pleaded with you to come along to a frat party that Kappa Alpha Psi was having, you really couldn’t turn her down, especially since she had sent you all her biology notes when you were out sick for a week due to allergies. So when she showed up at your university apartment with a revealing dress in one hand and a bottle of Smirnoff in the other, you begrudgingly accepted.

“So, what are frat parties like? You’ve been to what, two?” you asked, pulling down the hem of your dress. It was Shoko’s from a couple of years ago, and it fits you perfectly; the black fabric hugged all your curves in all the right places. “They’re probably loud. Should I have brought my headphones? Let’s go back and get them.” Shoko tutted at you and grabbed your wrist, pulling you beside her. Despite your reservations, a curiosity ignited within you, pushing you forward. 

“You have got to relax; you’ll be fine.” your best friend assured you, taking the cigarette from her glossed lips. “And yeah, they’re loud, but all parties are loud. That’s why they’re parties and not get-togethers.” Shoko smirked and flicked off the Smirnoff cap with her finger, the plastic barrier flying onto the grass of the frat house. “Well, we’re here. Are you ready to get shitfaced?” she didn’t even wait for you to respond, taking the vodka to her lips and taking a greedy sip. 

“Wow, you seriously wanna get drunk,” you pointed out, an eyebrow raised in concern for your dearest friend. “Am I gonna have to hold your hair back like last time?”

“Definitely,” Shoko giggled, dragging you inside the bustling house. You observed the red solo cups that littered the front lawn, which raised many questions in your already racing mind. Were the members of Kappa Alpha Psi so disrespectful that they didn’t even bother to take care of their own house? What if they were mean or even creepy towards you? Oh god, you felt yourself panic as the door closed behind the two of you, the stains on the wood not relaxing you in the slightest.

Shoko could feel your heartbeat increase and pulled you aside, cupping your cheek in assurance. “Hey, relax,” she reasoned softly, rubbing her soft thumb up and down your cheekbone. It reminded you of the time when there was a rumor going around that the two of you were lesbians, and it wasn’t entirely wrong. Shoko was a lesbian, and her girlfriend Utahime belonged to a charity sorority at another university. “You’ll be alright. Some of these guys are my friends.” 

You groaned and shifted your feet, finding your high heels too uncomfortable. “Seriously, you’re friends with some of these clowns?” your eyes landed on a man in your English class hanging off the railing, screaming about how he was king of the world. What was his name again, Haibara? “Is…is that one gonna be okay?” you pointed to his flushed face, no doubt caused by the ridiculous amount of alcohol available for consumption.

“What, Haibara? He’ll be fine, I think he’s always like this. Poor fella, kind of stupid, too. But that's why he’s a frat guy.” Shoko shrugged her exposed shoulders and walked with you to a living area, luckily finding a seat that didn’t have people making out on it. She picked up a half-drunk beer bottle and placed it in your hand, taking another puff of her cigarette.

“Uh, no thanks. I don’t know whose mouth has been on this,” you refused, placing the bottle back on the table. Your lungs inhaled the cigarette smoke, irritating your throat. “Fuck, why do you keep insisting on smoking cigarettes? Just vape like a normal person.” your hands waved away the smoke from your face. 

Shoko opened her mouth to speak, smiling as she gazed at someone standing behind you. You turned around in curiosity, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh my god, Geto! I had no idea you went to these parties.” Shoko stood up to hug her friend, the height difference between them being hilarious. “Hey, this is my buddy Suguru. He’s a frat member, but he doesn’t go to any of the parties. How weird is that?” she giggled, clearly drunk from the vodka. 

Geto patted Shoko on her shoulder, only touching the clothed part. “I just came back for my beer,” he pointed to the table, referring to the half-empty bottle. “I forgot I left it down here, and then the party started. I figured I would get it now before someone decided it was theirs.

Shoko turned to you and grinned, her smile being so bright it could attract moths. Fuck, she definitely had an idea brewing in that head of hers. “Oh my god! You were just about to drink from that, weren’t you!” she shoved Geto onto the sofa next to you, picking up her bottle of Smirnoff. “It’s a little meet-cute, aw! You guys are so cute. Oh my god!” Shoko wouldn’t stop rambling, causing you to let out a very annoyed groan. You loved Shoko, honestly. But sometimes she was a bit much, especially when she was drunk off her ass. 

“Shoko, I think…oh my god, is that Mei Mei?” you pretending to be surprised, pointing at a crowded corner. “Doesn’t she owe you some money? I don’t think she ever paid you back, y’know.” A smirk played on Geto’s lips; he knew what you were doing.

“What, where?! Oh, that bitch! I’ll fucking cut her!” Shoko angrily yelled, storming off to find the non-existent Mei Mei. 

Geto leaned back into the sofa, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, you do that when you don’t wanna deal with your friends as well?” he asked, sipping his beer.

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your breasts upwards. “Yeah, all the time. I’m not proud of it, but sometimes Shoko is too much, especially when drunk.”

“Tell me about it,” he agreed, offering you a sip of his beer. You accepted it, now that you know it was his and not some creeps. “My best friend, Satoru, likes to pick fights when drunk. I do my best to break them up, but he doesn’t really like when I do that.” Geto sighed, getting tired just thinking about it. “You don’t like parties that much, do you?”

You looked up at his violet eyes, slightly spooked by his observation. “How did you know that? I’ve only just met you.”

Geto chuckled and took another sip of beer, observing how your lipgloss stained the textured brim of the glass. “I mean, you’re not even wearing your own dress and heels. That’s Shoko’s. She wore that exact outfit to a party last week.” he smirked, seemingly proud of himself.

You buried your face in your hands, almost embarrassed. Were you that easy to read, or was Geto really smart? “Yeah, I don’t really have any outfits to wear to a party. Why do women have to dress up while men wear, well, what you’re wearing? No offense.” you gestured to his casual white t-shirt and black sweatpants, contrasting with your tight black dress. 

“I have no idea. Maybe people feel the need to impress us? I don’t see the appeal, I’m afraid.” Geto smiled at you, standing up and offering you his hand. “You look pretty uncomfortable. Do you wanna borrow some of my clothes? Sorry if I’m being too forward.” he smiled softly, a faint cherry blush dusting his pale face. 

“Sure, why not?” you shrugged, taking Geto’s hand. You noticed how much larger it was than your own, how it completely engulfed your smaller hand. Geto noticed as well; the blush is growing just a tad darker. “Besides, Shoko might kill me if I get a stain on this dress. I’m 99% sure she used it to go clubbing in.” you chuckled, following Geto up the frat house stairs. It was littered with red solo cups, couples making out, and other lewd acts. You’re not sure why you were surprised; it was a frat house. Everyone at this damn party was depraved. 

Weaving through the mess of bodies in the uppermost level of the frat house, Geto finally reached his room. After struggling to find the correct key to unlock his door, he let you inside and quickly locked the door.

“Um, why did you lock it?” you asked, your heartbeat quickening. Did he secretly have something absolutely sinister planned?

“So no one can come in here to fuck on my bed.” his smile was reassuring, comforting. Geto flicked on the lamp beside his neatly made bed, illuminating your two faces. His room was immaculately neat, and it was kind of gross to look at. His pillows always had a partner, and his sheets had no stains on the precious cotton (or silk?) material. There wasn’t a scuff or scratch on any of the wooden furniture, and even his fucking shoes were color-coordinated.

“The shirt might be a little big on you, sorry.” Geto handed you a spare t-shirt that had The Weeknd written on it. “I got it at a concert a while back when I went with Satoru. It was really good.” he also handed you a pair of his sweatpants, boasting the school color of navy blue. “I’ll turn around and cover my eyes, don’t worry. I can even go out in the hallway if you like.” 

You were taken aback at his politeness, not expecting it from a member of such an…interesting frat. “You can just turn around. I trust you not to peak,” you assured him, shimmying out of your dress once Geto faced the wall. He was whistling in an awkward attempt to break the silence, which you found kind of adorable. The fabric of his shirt wasn’t the best quality, but it was warm and quite big on you. His sweatpants were as well; you looked like a baby penguin. Your hair was put into a very messy bun, but your eyeliner and mascara still look okay. 

“You can turn around now, I’m decent.” After giving Geto permission, he turned around and uncovered his violet eyes. His gaze instantly landed on how loose his shirt was on you like it was swallowing you entirely. He’d be lying to himself if he said you didn’t look absolutely adorable because you really did look so fucking adorable. Geto was tall, so his clothes usually made anyone else drown in them, but this time, it was different. This time, he felt attracted to the person wearing his clothes. Geto found his mind spiraling, thinking why he had never seen how cute you were before. Were you just not around his side of the campus? Geto didn’t know, maybe he was overthinking this whole thing. Fuck, seeing you in his shirt made him spiral for a moment there. 

“You look comfortable,” he smiled, his sleepy eyes not leaving yours. “Do you wanna watch a movie or something? To distract from the shitty music downstairs, I don’t know why I let Nanami make the soundtrack when all he puts on it is My Chemical Romance…” Geto trailed off, putting a hand on his hips. His fingernails were painted black, which you thought was cute. 

“Yeah, I’m down for a movie. What did you have in mind?” you sat down on his bed, bouncing slightly on the plush mattress. 

Geto sat down beside you, giving you a comfortable amount of space. “Hm, wanna watch a horror movie? I know a trick that will turn everything the villain does into something funny.” he looked at you, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. 

You titled your head to the side and gave him a quizzical look. “Such as?”

Geto reached across your body, accidentally staring at your clothed chest for a second. He opened his bedside table and pulled out an expensive-looking dab pen. 

“I didn’t take you for a smoker, Geto,” you smirked, leaning closer to look at the device better. “This doesn’t look cheap either; it’s got a battery and everything. Damn.”

Geto chuckled and clicked the pen on as the movie’s intro credits played. “I take it you know your stuff?” He held the pen to his lips, not taking a hit just yet.

You shrugged and pretended to brush your hair over your shoulders. “Maybe I’m just that smart,” you playfully wink, giggling. “Nah, I’m messing with you. My freshmen-year roommate was a pretty heavy smoker, so I got a good look at her supplies. I’ve smoked before.” You took the pen from his hand, clicked the button on the side, and took a minor hit. The vapor filled your lungs and came through your nose, causing you to cough a little. “Holy fuck, you have strong weed.”

Geto chuckled at your coughing, rubbing your neck. He took a hit of the pen, barely coughing at all. “Yeah, well, I like to relax. Keeps me sane, y’know? In this house, you gotta have your vices, or you might lose your mind.”

“Tell me about it,” you grumbled, looking at your feet in Shoko’s high heels. Why were you wearing heels to a frat party? Ugh, Shoko always managed to talk you into doing stupid shit. “I smoked a lot in high school, but that was mainly because of the academic pressure. I was an honor roll student and am now on the dean's list. Go figure, right? Huge fucking nerd over here.” you pointed to yourself and laughed, eyebrows furrowed.

Geto rolled his eyes and swatted your hands down, giving you a stern look. “Don’t put yourself down like that, not ever. Being a nerd is a good thing.” He gestured to his door, the only barricade from the chaos outside. “Eventually, the idiots out there will work for you. That’s gotta mean something, right?”

“Hell yeah,” you high-fived him, blushing at the contact. Once again, you were staring at how much larger his hands were than yours. In fact, all of him was larger than yourself. “All those assholes will work under me, just you wait and see.”

“Mm, confidence. That’s something the girl in the movie has too much of. She thinks she’ll survive,” the screen displayed a horrid image of the petite blonde girl with a bear trap encasing her rib cage, killing her instantly. “But she won’t. These things are so fucking predictable.”

You giggled as the girl’s face contorted in horror, her eyes lifeless on the small television at the end of Geto’s bed. “You were right; weed makes the deaths seem funny. Are they all idiots?” You smile at him, a loose strand of hair dangling from your bun. 

Geto curled the strand of hair with his index finger and tucked it behind your ear, brushing gently on your tender cheek. “Yeah, they must all be idiots.” His voice was deep and low, mouth slightly agape. Maybe it was because he was high, but Geto was absolutely mesmerized by your beauty. How you looked fucking delectable in his clothes, in his shirt. Your lips looked so soft; would you mind if he kissed them? Just for a second, to see if they were as soft as a petal. Just for one agonizingly slow second? Fuck, Geto had never wanted anyone so badly in his entire fucking life.

“Geto, you’re staring.” You muttered, your voice falling upon deaf ears as Geto unconsciously leaned closer. “N-now, you’re getting really fucking close.” His hot breath made your skin tingle, goosebumps rising on the flesh of your exposed forearms. Your lips were parted as well, centimeters away from his own. You could see every imperfection on his face, especially the bags under his eyes, which made him even more attractive. He looked so tired, so sleepy, so ethereally handsome. 

“Please,” he breathed against your lips, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. His voice was deep and desperate, breath somewhat shakey. “Please, let me kiss you, baby. You’re so pretty.”

Nodding slowly, you brought your lips to kiss so they were ghosting over each other; it was barely even a kiss. You wanted him to make the first move, to be the gentlemen he had been to you at the start of the party. “Kiss me, Geto.”

Having been given your approval, Geto pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was slow and gentle, his hands cupping your face while rubbing up and down on your cheekbones. The kiss was incredibly fragile, so very delicate. Your lips moved together in tandem, neither of you knowing if the other was okay with the intensity of the moment increasing to something a bit more depraved and desperate. 

You cautiously reached up and grabbed the hair tie that held his bun in place, taking it off and snapping it around your wrist. Geto’s dark hair fell onto his shoulders, creating the most beautiful display. Your hands wasted no time grabbing his locks and tangling them with your fingers, curling the strands beneath them. A spark set off in Geto, his lips becoming more aggressive with your plush ones. He pressed his body closer to yours, his hand traveling from your face to your lower back, pulling you in. They landed on the small of your waist, dipping under the fabric of your (his) t-shirt. His hands massaged gentle circles on the flesh, eliciting the cutest little squeak from your occupied mouth. 

Waves after waves of arousal surged through Geto’s body, his hands now desperately squeezing into your waist. He broke the kiss, staring into your eyes as the both of you gasped for air. “Fuck, baby,” he moaned softly, attaching his lips to your sensitive neck, trailing a path of fiery kisses down to your collarbone. His teeth grazed the bone as possession took over his body, latching onto the spot right above your collarbone. Your supple skin felt absolutely lovely under his tongue, he was struggling to maintain control of his faculties. The way your face contorted in pleasure didn’t help either, angelic moans falling from your bruised lips as your hands remained tangled in his midnight strands. 

You pulled Geto away from your neck, his saliva covering the bright purple hickey. You stared into his violet eyes, your face flushed and your breathing heavy. The two of you stared at each other briefly, your minds fuzzy from the kissing high. Or was it the marijuana that made you feel like you were floating?

“Geto,” you muttered, your hands adventuring to play with the hem of his shirt. “Make me feel good.”

That was all Geto needed; what he longed to hear came from your pretty mouth. He shoved you down onto the mattress with a grunt, wedging his knee between your thighs. His lips attacked your neck once more, sucking and biting and licking with a purpose. His shirt was long forgotten, tossed behind him, and landed on the television screen. Geto shifted his knee to massage your clothed core, earning him a pretty little yelp. “Yeah, you like that?” He groaned against your neck, kissing the spot behind your ear. “You want me to grind down on you more, pretty thing?” Fuck, his voice was a drug in and of itself. It was practically fucking dripping with honey. 

Your hands were running up and down on his abs, your long nails causing a sensation that Geto could only hope to describe. “Please, please, Geto. Need it, please.” You whispered, grinding yourself down onto his knee, so desperate for any kind of friction you could receive. 

“Do you always get this needy when you’re high, dollface?” He purred against your neck, removing the top you wore with no trouble. The light from the movie only did so much to illuminate the bra you wore, not that Geto cared much for lingerie. He was too focused on what was hiding beneath the lacy fabric. “Take this off. Fuck, I love needy girls.” He commanded, the bulge in his sweatpants growing with each passing second. 

You unclasped your bra and tossed it aside, shivering as the cold air made your nipples grow hard. Geto attacked your breasts within an instant, his tongue rolling over your right breast while his hand paid careful attention to the other, the sensations not being too weak or too strong on either side. Soft moans escaped your lips, the feeling of want bubbling inside your core as Geto suckled at your chest like he was made for you. “Ngh, not too hard! M’sensitive there,” you gasped as his teeth grazed the sensitive bud, scolding him. 

“Sorry princess, s’not my fault you got such pretty tits,” he chuckled, letting go of your breast with a pop. His hand trailed down your midriff, toying with the hem of the sweatpants you wore. His sweatpants. “Let’s take these off, okay? After all,” he hovered his mouth against your ear, licking the shell like a tease. “You gotta be nice and prepped so I can fuck you senseless.”

Geto peeled his sweatpants off your legs, the fabric pooling at your ankles. He lifted your legs so they rested on his strong shoulders, pulling his face closer to your aching core. He smirked at the little wet patch displayed on your panties, his nose rubbing against your clothed cunt. His teeth bit down on the thin fabric and pulled them aside, the lighting in the room doing your gorgeous pussy no favors.

“Shit, you’re soaked,” Geto whispered, his hot tongue sliding up your folds, the cutest little moan falling from your lips. His tongue drew playful circles on your throbbing clit, smirking as you whimpered and pleaded for more. 

The faint screams coming from the television were long forgotten as Geto indulged himself in your core, groaning occasionally as your sweet nectar coated his tongue. It was like ambrosia to him, the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. He dipped his tongue into your welcoming entrance, swirling around oh-so-carefully. He went as deep as he could, practically burying his face in your needy cunt. 

“Shit, Geto!” You cried, your nails leaving angry crescent-shaped imprints on his muscular back. Geto didn’t mind, he could just show it off later. While the rest of those idiots were getting drunk on alcohol, Geto was drunk off of you. Your everything was so intoxicating. You relished the feeling of his tongue inside of you. Was he spelling his name with his tongue? He chuckled occasionally, sending vibrations so deep inside you that it almost sent you over the edge every time. 

He rhythmically plunged his tongue inside your weeping entrance, desperate to explore every single inch of you. His tongue would accidentally flick over that most sensitive spot inside of you, making you whine in pathetic delight. Geto was observant, memorizing what flicking and sucking matters made your legs tighten around his face. He teased you relentlessly, just keeping you on the verge of orgasm. 

Geto nibbled on your sensitive clit, moaning as you desperately tugged on his hair. “Geto, please! Fuck, oh my God! I’m gonna cum, shit!” You sobbed, thighs trembling in agonizingly extreme euphoria. 

He pulled away as soon as those words left your mouth, his face covered in your slick and his saliva. Geto winked at you and shoved his sweatpants off of his toned body, removing yours from your ankles as well. Fuck, he needed to fuck you right then and there, or it would kill him. He craved to fill you, to fuck you, to make you scream his name so everyone downstairs would know who was getting it on. 

His boxers long forgotten about, Geto’s dick stood hard and eager between his legs, slapping onto his rock-hard abs. You gasped as you saw the silhouette of his cock, wishing you could be able to see it in its full glory. “Fuck, you’re huge. A-are you sure it’ll fit inside me?” You whimpered, spreading your legs as you lay in missionary.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll make it fit.” Geto purred, giving you a quick kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a sensation you never thought you would experience before today. 

“Uh, do you have a condom?” you sheepishly asked, squeezing your legs together. “No offense, but I don’t know where that monster has been.”

“Relax, don’t worry,” he assured you, reaching into his nightstand drawer. Geto rummaged around briefly before pulling out a little foil square. “I’d never make you uncomfortable.” He ripped open the packet with his teeth, rolling the latex onto his cock with ease. 

Geto parted your legs, pushing them into your chest so you were on display for him and him alone. He had folded you into a mating press, his cock prodding at your entrance. “God, I can’t wait to fuck you senseless.” he groaned as his tip slid inside of you, your pussy practically swallowing it whole. You gasped at the sensation, hands desperately pawing at his biceps for support. Geto slowly pushed the rest of his throbbing cock inside of your core, hissing as he felt your gummy walls contract around him. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he moaned, kissing your neck tenderly. 

“S-so fucking big,” you moaned, running your hands up and down his toned arms. “Just fuck me already, please, I need it,” your voice was laced with a desperate and demanding tone, eliciting a growl from Geto’s throat. 

“Good slut,” he spoke with approval, his large hands slapping the backs of your plush thighs. He pulled out just barely and then quickly slammed himself back into your sobbing core. A grunt left his lips at the sensation, a squeak emitting from yours. You felt heavenly to him, a new kind of drug he had yet to take. Everything was fucking perfect at the moment, especially how your greedy cunt took him so well. You were such a slut, his slut. So warm, so wet.

He continued to pound into you, throwing his head back slightly to his massive Adam’s apple, which was front and center. Your arousal completely coated his length, and he was able to slide in and out with ease, especially with the help of the condom. God, he filled you up so fucking good. His head was hitting that perfect spot so deep inside of you, the most forbidden fruit. Geto’s thrusts were quick, calculated, and desperate. His cock bullied its way into your core over and over again, wanton moans and cries of pleasure leaving the lips that Geto loved so much. 

“God, how are you so fucking wet?” Geto grunted into your neck, his hot breath making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. “Had no idea that you were such a slut, I would have just bent you over that fucking couch and had my way with you.” He slapped the back of your thighs once more, observing how you squeezed around him. “Oh, do you like being hit, pretty girl? Is that it? Y’want me to hit that pretty face of yours?” His voice was laced with a mocking tone, punctuation at the end of his sentence with a quick slap across your flushed face. 

“Fuck!” you squeaked out, the bubbling feeling in your stomach returning as Geto pistoned his monster cock in and out of your wanton cunt. The way his gentle personality was ripped away the second your lips touched his made you so fucking horny, your orgasm close. 

Geto smirked wickedly and pressed his body even closer to yours, finding the new angle much easier to get those lovely little screams to come out of your mouth. “Yeah, you like it when I slap you, hm? I can feel that fucking pussy milking me, fuck, that’s gonna be the death of me.” He grunted, his thrusts becoming staggered and random. His cock twitched inside of you, equally desperate to feel nirvana. “Fuck, cum with me, yeah? Wanna feel you make a mess all over my fucking cock.”

“M-mhm! Fuck!” you sobbed, fat tears running down your face. Your hand desperately massaged your clit, allowing you to fall off the edge and into euphoria finally. Your mouth opened in the silent cry, eyes squeezing shut as heaven enveloped your burning body. 

“Shit!” Geto gasped, his orgasm following without giving a warning. “Fuck, fucking take it! Yeah, fucking take me!” his thrusts eased down after a moment, his hands letting go of your legs. He collapsed into your chest, giving your breast a quick kiss. “Holy shit, baby,” Geto mumbled into your sweaty skin, pushing his hair away from his sticky face. “That was the best fuck I’ve had in a long time.”

You slowly nodded and kissed his cheek, Geto’s cock still buried inside your core. You whimpered as he pulled himself out, tying the used condom off and tossing it inside a waste basket. “That was the first fuck I’ve had here,” you mumbled, massaging his scalp with your long nails.

“Oh shit, I didn’t take your virginity, right?” Geto asked, slightly panicked. You quickly shook your head, cupping the left side of his blushing face. 

“No, don’t worry. I’m not a virgin. I just haven’t had sex with anybody on campus. Until now.”

“Oh, thank fucking God.” Geto sighed in relief, sitting up against the headboard. He wrapped his arm around you, kissing the top of your forehead. “Still, that was one hell of a ride.”

“Yeah, it was fucking amazing. You know I’ve never had a vaginal orgasm before that?” you giggled, leaning up to peck his lips. Your gaze turned to the television, noticing that the end credits were playing. “Damn, guess we missed the movie.”

“How tragic,” Geto spoke with mock sorrow, pulling you closer to him. “I guess you’ll just have to come to see me so we can rewatch it.” He smirked, trailing his fingers up and down your back. 

You laughed and kissed his cheek again, rolling out of the bed. “I’d be more than happy to,” you bent down to pick up the clothes he lent you, earning you a swift slap on your ass. “Hey!” you grunted, turning to see Geto looking very pleased with himself. 

“I did absolutely nothing wrong,” he teased, crossing his arms over his pectorals. “Keep the clothes, they look better on you anyway.” 

You smiled and nodded, butterflies filling your stomach. “Can I wear them next time I come over?” 

“I insist,” he got up from his bed, kissing your head. “I usually only do one-night-stands…but you’re different. I like that.”

“Man, stop with this flattery. You already fucked me,” you sighed, pretending to be annoyed with Geto. As soon as you were dressed, your hand hovered over the doorknob before it started rattling frantically.

“Yo, are you in there, girl? We gotta go, Haibara barfed on my shoes!” Shoko’s voice was incredibly loud and slurred, no different from usual. “They were my good shoes, too, that fucking dickhead!”

Geto laughed as you facepalmed, shooting him a look of disappointment. “Well, I should probably go. Do you want my number or something?” you bent down again to pick up Shoko’s dress and heels, making sure not to forget them.

“Please,” Geto handed you his phone, smiling to himself.

“There you go, put whatever name you want,” you unlocked the door and winked, licking your bottom lip. “Text me whenever you wanna see the rest of that movie.” you closed the door behind you and grabbed a very drunk Shoko’s hand, leading her downstairs and out the door.

Geto sighed and sat on his bed, reaching behind his back to run his fingers over the scratches you had left. A ghost of a smile touched his lips, looking at your phone number on his screen. 

Maybe frat parties didn’t totally suck after all.

The Way You Kiss Me - G.S.

Synopsis. The four times Satoru tries really hard not to kiss you - his best friend’s pretty younger sister. And the one time he doesn’t.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Suguru’s sister! reader, childhood enemies to lovers, PINING Satoru, like really really disgustingly down bad, creampíe, oral (fem receiving), pússytalking, needy JEALOUS! Satoru, running away from it, spítting, punching is Suguru’s love language, mentions of aIcohol, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 7.4k (That’s wild)

A/N. BOO! Surprise upload. This was so fun to write omg.

“You sure this is how the grown-ups get married?”

“Duh, I know everything.”

“Nuh uh, Toru.”

“Yuh uh!”

The first time Gojo Satoru kissed you was underneath that dingy playground slide that the two of you always raced to after elementary school. 

Usually, your older brother, Suguru, would walk home alongside you two - but this time, he’d just so happened to have been held back for throwing paper planes at the teacher that day.

A sign from the universe, Satoru internally celebrated, something he’d learned from those sappy romance novels his mother left lying around the house. No matter that he was the one that made those planes.

You were six back then, standing in front of a determined Satoru - reaching up on his tip-toes, face pink, smelling of those cheap strawberry lollipops he’d sneak into class and taunt you with. At the much older and wiser age of seven, he’d insisted on being the first one to lean in.

Just barely even grazing your dramatically puckered lips before-

Satoru learned two things that fateful afternoon:

Even as a seven-year-old, Suguru’s punches really hurt. 

Never mess with you. Anyone but you. 

Life only seemed to go downhill from there - because that last lesson was proving to be hard along the years. Really. Fucking. Hard.

Little did Satoru know that this would be the start of some strange, unpredictable little dance of push and pull. No, you definitely weren’t his wife. Nor were you exactly best friends - not really, that spot was reserved for your brother. But you didn’t think you could ever be just that either.

And the punch that’d knocked his wobbly tooth out onto the playground floor that day was a painful reminder that whatever that was - whatever weird thoughts he had later in middle school about how you’d tasted like candy - didn’t matter. No matter how part some tucked-away little part of him wanted it to.

Hell, eleven years later and Satoru still can’t walk around that familiar block without feeling slightly queasy. Which is why, after that failed first kiss, he knew there wouldn’t be a second. 

Instead, he settles back to teasing your pouty self, pushing all your buttons, tugging on those cute dresses you wore. Face burning so strangely with- humiliation? when you bickered right back, calling his haircut a “tragic attempt at modern art.”

“So you’re saying I look like art?” A gangly, now-seventeen Satoru blocks the bustling high school hallway, ignoring the bell. Grin only growing at your frustrated huff, he half-jokes, “Aww, if you’re that soft on me, sweetheart, maybe we should go to prom tog-”

You slam your locker, effectively shutting both it and Satoru at the same time. “I’d rather go with Yaga.”

“...you would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would not.”

“Would to.”

“Would- Sugu–!”

And all Suguru can do is wrap two hands around his neck, mock-choking himself, wondering if it was really too late to embrace a quiet life as a monk. “You’ll both be MLA cited in my farewell note.”

He was used to it, though, forced to watch all this chaos since quickly mending his friendship with Satoru over ice cream the day after the punch. Convinced that this was some punishment for a past life’s misdeed.

With a squawk of protest, Satoru’s turning back to you, eyes crinkling with a hint of mischief you knew too well, “Would not.”

Your face burns, “Would to, Toru.”

You didn’t go with Yaga. but Satoru didn’t exactly count that as a win in his books, either, because you did show up that night hanging off the arm of some jerk from the football team. 

And there you were, all dolled up - which he very objectively noted - way too prettily for some bastard like him. Stars in your eyes, and everything he couldn’t have in that smile. 

Everything. 

Way too gorgeous, even when he finds you sitting outside the gymnasium later on in the night. Too busy bawling your mascara off to even throw out your usual greeting insult his way. Murmuring out wetly about “that asshole” and how he humiliated you by stranding you in the middle of the dance floor for someone else. 

“Well, he was a jerk anyway. Even Yaga would’ve been better, hell, I-” Satoru stops short to his horror at the way you only cry harder.

Way too irresistible, especially as his body moves before his mind - holding out an open hand before he knows it. “I’m a much better dancer than him and you.” And oh Satoru will forever remember the way his heart lurches as you blink your teary eyes up in confusion, “Well, aren’t ya gonna take up the challenge?”

Weirdly, it wasn’t weird at all. 

If anything, you had to hold back your laughter the entire time at the way the great “campus sweetheart” Gojo Satoru was so on edge.

Just a friend comforting a friend, right?

So why was he avoiding your gaze with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, summer blue eyes pointedly trained right over your head. That pretty pink blush dusting his cheeks reflecting the hands hovering in midair over your waist. So close - and yet, fear in each and every turn and swirl.

Yours were searing into his broad shoulders as you tried to guide him to the muffled music from inside. And shit.

That night ended with a second kiss. 

You don’t know who leaned in first, just that Satoru’s soft lips were just fleeting on your glossy ones - barely even a touch. And that shit shit shit- this was Satoru. This was you. 

Everything. 

But it seems that every time Satoru was about to kiss you dangerously close to the way some tiny, forbidden part of his heart wanted to - the universe throws an obstacle at him. An obstacle that was six feet and named “Suguru”, currently running at break-neck speed out of the gym.

“MOVE YOUR ASSES!” he cackles, “THE FOOTBALL TEAM ISN’T TOO HAPPY ABOUT ME BREAKING THEIR STAR PLAYER’S NOSE.”

And not a word is uttered about the kiss as the three of you speed out of the school parking lot in Suguru’s busted-up black hellcat, the wind mussing up the hairstyle that took Satoru over two hours to perfect. Sneaking in glances at the sight of you singing along at the top of your lungs to some overplayed pop song on the radio. 

He learns another two things that night:

Apparently, Suguru’s right hook still really fucking hurt. And thank god for tonight’s casualties of noses, because it was a wonder that he didn’t look too hard at how close Satoru was with you. 

He didn’t…dislike the feeling of your lips on his. And judging by the way you meet his eyes in the rearview mirror - you didn’t either.

It’s mainly that last one that makes him gulp.

Neither of you remember the third kiss - though, Satoru’s sure that at least 80% of Shoko’s instagram followers did.

According to a very hungover Shoko, and the many, many forms of documentation, it had happened on the New Year’s eve during your third year in university. In which you were much more used to the raging parties that would be hosted at Suguru’s apartment, and only slightly less intimidated by them.

“And you’re a lightweight too, dumbass. You were gone.” Shoko sighs from across the café table, eye bags deeper than the last time he’d seen her. “Like gone gone.”

God, what a way to start the year.

Satoru bites back a remark about how “gone” Shoko herself had been. Sitting up straight in his seat, regret immediately hitting his senses faster than the guilty throbbing at his temples. He winces, managing out a semi-disbelieving groan of, “Gone gone?”

And she’s only nodding wearily, subconsciously tapping out the rest of her cigarette ashes onto his untouched plate of sweet pastries. 

“I’m talking dancing on expensive coffee tables and fighting to stop you from giving everyone there a strip show.” She cracks a smirk through a waft of smoke, “Though, she would’ve loved that I’m sure.”

“Har har har, you’d make even Nanami laugh with that one.”

“Eugh, gross.” Shoko taps through her phone briefly, swirling it around to show Satoru a few pictures that definitely gave him a mini-heart attack at 8:57 in the morning. “You look like you’re about to pen really bad poetry.”

And perhaps this was Shoko’s plan all along - to shock Satoru to the core hard enough that she can note it down as one of her sketchy psychological experiments. 

But he knew. Could feel it in the hazy fragments of memories - or, at the very least, in that entire highlight that Nanamin had oh-so-conveniently put up on Instagram titled, “Blackmail.”

You knew. 

You’d kissed him back. 

“I don’t have a-.” you slur, stumbling ever-so-slightly as you try to meet Satoru’s glassy eyes. Because shit the years have had him shooting up faster than you could look up. “-a New Year’s kiss, y’know.”

You were older - more gorgeous, if that was even possible now. That tight dress hugging your body so unfairly in a way that had him forgetting you were his best friend’s sister. 

The one person in this whole world that he couldn’t have.

But Satoru leans in closer, more because he wants to than anything - he could pick out your voice anywhere let alone over the thumping music currently filling his crowded living room. Lips loose as he tries to play up the cool-guy facade he’s been dubbed with since freshman year, “Hah, loser. Because I do.”

“Where?”

At this, Satoru is stumped - damn, you were good. 

“Not- uh here?” If he was in any clearer state of mind, he’d have been embarrassed at the way his voice cracks so traitorously as your unsteady hands pull him in closer by his overpriced button-up. 

Your body was flush against his now, so addictive. Gaze half-lidded and flickering between the sliver of milky skin exposed on his chest - from that impromptu striptease he’d almost started earlier - and the blue eyes that were currently locked you. You whisper a strained, “Liar.”

Close - too close. So dangerously close.

He breathes out against your lips, the smell of booze and you so heady in his mind. And the heavy words falling from his lips sound like lies, even to him. “Not.”

“Toru?” you hum, a sound that has him gasping. “Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

And there went your New Year’s kisses. At exactly 11:37PM, if the photos were anything to go by. 

And holy shit were there many. All of which showed your arms looped around Satoru’s neck, crashing his lips to yours. His own, resting against your waist, a scandalously red blush - whether from the alcohol or you - adorning his cheeks. Looking more blissed out than he ever remembers feeling. 

“I’m a dead man, Shoko.” 

There’s a lengthy silence, leaving Satoru stewing in thoughts of how Suguru would react once he finds out. And whether or not he’d be able to rise from the dead just to see how pretty you’d look at his funeral.

Morbid thoughts broken only by Shoko’s cough, “Hey, can I keep your eyes for experimentation if he actually catches you?”

Subtly, he sends himself those photos from last night.  

Luckily for Satoru’s eyes, they never ended up being donated towards Shoko’s questionable contributions to the world of medicine. 

And by some grace of the gods above, Suguru never mentioned a word about the kiss that would’ve inevitably made its way to him. Or maybe it was because Satoru stole his phone until he managed to pester Nanami just enough to take down that highlight. But, semantics. 

His heart, however, might as well have been part of some experiment.

Because it’s been working overdrive since that night - mind reliving that moment over and over and over and- shit, he’s fucked. So, so fucked. 

Fucked enough that it took Satoru months just to muster up to even look in your pretty eyes once more, unless he wanted to get lost in them forever. Fucked enough that he dared to wonder again and again when there might be a fourth kiss - if there would be a fourth kiss. 

He just never thought it would happen the way it did - with you, standing outside his front door. 

“I’m sorry, Toru.” you mumble, “It’s just- I think we both need to grow up.”

You’ve freshly graduated now, looking more and more irresistible each time he sees you - even when you’re looking at him like that. 

Rolling his eyes, “Ha, is this another way of saying you want my secret to getting taller? Because the first thing is to-”

“I’m serious, Satoru.”

And oh how he wished you’d say something - anything - else right now. Call him anything but that. Maybe even throw an insult his way, tell him those new sunglasses look ugly, or about how you got that internship he would’ve died for. 

Satoru manages to choke out a heavy, “I don’t understand.” But that uncomfortable coil of something curling at the pit of his stomach said otherwise. And it causes him to finally breathe out a hesitant, “Maybe you’re right.”

As if that was all the answer you needed, you’re stepping out of the front door. Slow, and deliberate like you were giving him another chance - a thousand more. Sighing out a defeated, “It’s been years.” It has. “And we’re just running in circles.” You have. “I’m starting to think this is just some game to you.” It wasn’t.

“Wait!” he grasps your hand - soft. The look in your eyes even softer as you turn around to face his desperate face. “Please, sweetheart.”

Satoru doesn’t even know what words he wants to say - let alone whether they’d come out of his heavy mouth. 

So, instead, he’s crashing them into yours. 

Brief. Fleeting. Like each one before this. Too addictive, too short, that he thinks he’s almost imagining it as you pull away gently, until he sees that look in your eyes. 

“Toru, I have a date.”

The fourth kiss.

Satoru’s letting go of you like it burned - and, truly, it felt like some deep, dark part of him was burning down right now. “Great.” That should be hm that should be him that should be- “I’m…happy for you.”

And the last.

He fucked up.

He really, really fucked up.

That first date turned into a second. The second into a third. And unfortunately for Gojo, eventually, you were nearing your one-year anniversary with that asshat you’d met during the early days of your internship. 

He’d seen the man himself once, briefly at another one of Suguru’s famous parties. Ducking out of sight before he could be introduced, yet long enough to know that he wasn’t as tall, or as handsome, or as absolutely fucking hilarious. 

What did he have that Satoru didn’t? 

The answer to that, Satoru’s reminded of every time he’s causing ruckus over at Suguru’s apartment, and sees you walking out of your room, tittering on the phone to none other than your boyfriend. So gorgeous. So not his. 

You, that loser had you.

“If you sigh again I swear I’m shoving this popcorn up your a-”

“It’s a sad movie, Suguru!” he defends, draped across your couch at another one of those movie nights you loved to organize. As usual, there was the popcorn, the god-awful movie (if Satoru picks it), and the arguments. The only thing missing, however, was you. Ugh, something about an “anniversary” and a “seafood date”. Seriously, it’s not like you even enjoyed that new seafood restaurant in town, and he’s sure that bastard didn’t know-

“Satoru.” his best friend’s deadpan voice cuts through his little reverie. “We’re watching Mean Girls.”

And he’s barely even opening his mouth to snark back before-

SLAM!

Suguru pauses the movie almost immediately, turning to the direction of the front door. “Uh oh.” 

And lo and behold - there was you in all your pissed off, beautiful glory. Throwing your keys on the table, your fiery glare passes over the two men as you stomp to your bedroom. 

“Seafood wasn’t that good, sweetheart?” Satoru calls out behind you, eyes sweeping down your figure. Heart stuttering in his chest when you turn around with your fists clenched, lower lip wobbling in a way that Satoru would both kill whoever made you feel this way and die to be on the other side of those daggers in your eye. 

Sniffing out an icy, “Fuck off, loser and loserette.”

Then in a whirlwind of rage, you’re gone - your bedroom door slamming only slightly more gently than you’d done with the front door. Leaving a deafening silence, and Satoru whining, “Why am I the loserette?”

“Deserved.” Suguru shrugs. Warily eyeing your door, as if it was about to pounce at any given second, “Let her cool down before you give her an aneurysm at least.” Unpausing the television, propping his feet back up, “S’enough having to deal with you on top of a boyfriend like that.”

And that has Satoru perking up in interest - both figuratively, and literally as he snatches the remote and pauses the movie. “Wait wait wait what-” Holding it way out of Suguru’s reach, “What do you mean a ‘boyfriend like that’?”

Scoffing, “Funny. Now give me back the remote.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two.

Only then does it dawn on Suguru that this might just not be some strange prank to stroke Satoru’s ego, and he was actually  more serious than he’d ever seen him. Damn. 

“Bro, have you really never met the guy or something? He’s a complete tool. I don’t know what happened, but this breakup was a long time coming.”

Satoru blinks, feeling a red hot surge of anger. “What? Seriously? Why didn’t you do anything about it?”

“You think I didn’t try?” he sighs, running a hand through his hair at the other’s uncharacteristic silence. “Hah, and just imagine, the man was talking about marriage, too. As if.”

And suddenly, Satoru’s hit with an image of you walking down the aisle. Not something he was a stranger to, but it still takes him aback. The sway of the fabric beneath his fingers, your lips against his. Hell, in that split-second he even dreams up how Nanamin would be crying very reluctant tears of joy. 

Everything. Everything that wasn’t his.

His fist tightens around the remote, until he could hear the cracking of plastic. Mind whirling with the thought of you and him and you. How he wished it was him and you. “I would’ve been better.”

Oh. 

Shit. 

“I- fuck this. Suguru, since elementary school I…”

And, well, Satoru’s so busy putting that extra physics seminar he took in university to work - trying to calculate the odds of surviving a jump out of this seven-storey window - that he almost misses Suguru’s low hum, a distant, almost barely-audible little interruption, “Well duh.”

“Hold on.” he’s snatching away the remote that had somehow slithered its way into the other’s hands once again. Ignoring his best friend’s croak of protests to pause in the middle of Regina George being hit by the bus - which, he felt was strangely enviable right now. “That was- what? YOU KNOW?”

“Huh? Even my parents know, the only one that doesn’t is her.”

“...”

Satoru didn’t know how Suguru seemed so calm, but he felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. Heart stuttering in his chest as he sideglances at your firmly shut door - like he was just waiting for you to jump out and tell him this was some elaborate prank. 

Begging for you to come - it would’ve hurt less.

But you don’t.

Fuck. 

And the only response he gets is a low whistle, before a phone is being shoved in his face - flashlight illuminating that crimson blush. “Damn, the great Gojo Satoru speechless? The groupchat is gonna love this, might even send it to my sister, y’know.” 

He didn’t care - didn’t give a shit if this video made rounds to Gakuganji himself. Only one thought racing through his mind right now. 

“But why aren’t you punching me like in elementary school?” 

And Satoru knows he’s smart - intelligent even. Hell, he was the valedictorian, the youngest employee to claw their way up to being on the board of directors. But he’s never felt more stupid when Suguru breathes out a bewildered, “Dude. That was for blaming me for the paper planes.” 

“Oh.”

Then the movie is unpaused. 

---

The last time you kissed Gojo Satoru was at the doorstep to that overpriced penthouse of his, exactly a year ago today. 

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru was just a few hours ago, lounging around your living room like he owned it. Honestly, he might as well have been part of the furniture at this point - like some expensive, fluffy couch. One that prattled on about your “dumbass boyfriend” and god-knows-what else to rile you up just for the fun of it.

Which is why it was odd to step out of your bedroom - eyes just a bit puffy, throat still tight - to a suspiciously quiet hallway. 

The lights were turned off, nothing but the pouring rain sounding from outside, television paused on some rerun of The Princess Diaries. Damn, you told those idiots not to start that one without you.

“Sugu?” you call, finding his bedroom empty. “Thought tonight was movie night?” Padding across the empty apartment, contemplating whether or not to get your phone and call him when-

Ding!

Ah, there. 

You roll your eyes as you head towards the front door, ready to give Suguru a piece of his mind for going out at this ungodly hour and forgetting his key. Seriously, what if you opened the door and he was hurt, or worse, or…

Satoru. 

Speaking a mile a minute.

Satoru.

“-florist was closed and the store clerk looked at me like I was crazy but I got this for-” he pauses abruptly, as if realizing something with a jolt. “-you.”

“You- what-” you don’t know where to look - at the drenched, disheveled Satoru filling your doorframe - rain in his hair, curtaining his frantic eyes, drenching his snug t-shirt. Or at the obscenely large bouquet of cheap strawberry lollipops being placed gently into your arms. 

What follows was an electric silence - and you have half the mind to tease Satoru for finally shutting the fuck up for once in his life. 

But, no. Instead, you eye the way he stands stubbornly at the doorway, fists clenched, blue eyes locked so intensely on yours that it was like they burned. 

Face flushed a familiar pretty pink that makes you realize that shit, he might be taller, voice deeper, broad shoulders tight against his t-shirt - but this was still the same boy that cried when you stole his favorite Digimon card in middle school. The same one that kissed you underneath a dingy slide, smelling of strawberry lollipops.

It’s the steady tap! tap! tap! of the water droplets from his hair that have you tearing your traitorous eyes from his see-through white t-shirt.

Guess you’ve both done some growing up since then.

“You loser.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

The pink wrapping of the bouquet rustles as your grip tightens. “He proposed to me today, y’know.” and yet, your quiet, even voice was the only thing ringing in Satoru’s ears. He jolts, as if some visceral, primal part of himself had been poked awake. Breathing heavy, fists clenching until he could feel the neat indents of his fingernails on his palm. Of course. He’s late. He’s late he’s late he’s late-

That is, until you’re plowing on, “I said no.”

“Huh?”

You think back to the stuffy restaurant, the man sitting from across from you - how wrong it felt. And all it took were those four words for you to realize that. “I said no.” 

Satoru snaps his head up, stepping close - so close. Voice strained like he wasn’t asking - begging. Praying, “Why?”

“We…” you raise a brow at the way Satoru flinches as you trail off. So desperate. A smirk makes its way onto your face, “...we haven’t divorced yet, right?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you. 

Fuck, you don’t know - nor do you really care right now. Not when Satoru’s got his lips crashing against yours for the fifth time in your life, kissing you like it would be the last. Big arms dipping down to your waist, pulling you so tight against his muscled frame that he had half the mind to wonder whether it hurt. 

“Love this. Love the way you kiss me- fuck-” he’s spitting against your lips, kicking the door shut behind him. “Oh- would ya get mad if I-” he tries to get out through kisses. Only to suck on your pretty lips with a pained grunt. “If I-” Again and again, like it killed him to part. “-hah- celebrated right now?”

“Yes.” You’re letting the bouquet fall to the foor, white-knuckling that useless, drenched excuse of a shirt. “Now kiss me properly, Toru.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Such a sloppy mix of teeth and hands and him. Shoving a knee between your legs, making up for years and years of late nights with nothing but his fist and the pretty thought of you. 

“Yeah, that’s it, sweetheart.” Satoru breathes out, as your urgent fingers that dispose of his shirt, feeling the gorgeous dips and curves of years of hard work to impress you. “Suck on m’tongue pretty- fuck-” His own fisting your shirt, pulling. Ripping.

“Toru!”

“I want you.” He’s letting the poor, tattered pieces drop in a pile on the floor, trailing a hand between your damp thighs before he can stop himself. “Oh how I’ve wanted you. And I don’t care if I have to buy fifty new outfits to make up for it.”

And it’s the feeling of his long index stroking up your sopping slit through your shorts that has you pulling away with a gasp. Delicate little strings of saliva snapping from Satoru’s kiss-bitten lips. “If we continue like this…” your voice wavers as he presses hot kisses along your collarbone. “-my brother’s gonna walk in.”

“...wouldn’t wanna relive that playground kiss, huh?”

It’s all he says before picking you up so easily, hands resting on your ass. Giving a playful spank ass you wrap your legs around his toned waist. 

And it’s sloppy.

Both his lips still hotly on yours and the way he’s stumbling urgently to your room through pure muscle memory. Pulling away only when you’re all splayed out so prettily for him on your mattress.

“Blue?” he breathes, pulling your shorts off. And it comes out strained - like the very sight of your panties - all soaked and flimsy with your slick - has whatever’s remaining of Satoru’s sanity flying out the window. “Blue? Oh, you’ve gotta have planned this, you little minx.” his hot breath hits your cunt as he shifts down the bed, tongue drawing languid, wet little circles on your inner thigh. “Because don’t tell me this was all for him?”

It was coincidence - or maybe fate - but that doesn’t stop you from giving Satoru a slow, teasing nod. Muttering out, “So what if it was?”

The only answer you get is thumb hooked around your shorts, pulling it just enough so that your brother’s best friend can spy your pretty pussy.

“Well then.” he chuckles at the way you jump when his fingertip just barely grazes your clit. “Guess I jus’ hafta prove m’better.”

A low groan is falling from his lips as soon as they meet your puffy ones, giving your pretty clit a chaste peck. Lingering long enough that he’s sure your sweet sweet juices cover his mouth.

And oh Satoru’s sure he’ll never forget the way your jaw falls slack, glassy eyes following his every move as he runs his tongue along his glossy lips. Savoring your candied taste, “Never kissed you like this before, huh?” 

Fuck, you’re sweeter than he’s imagined.

You whine desperately, something that has him smirking smugly, “Hah, what? Cat got your tongue?”

“You’re better when you shut up.” It’s all you can do to buck your hips into Satoru’s pretty face - not that you had to, because one taste of your dripping cunt and he was addicted. Surging forwards until he was nose-deep, locking your ankles around his head with a firm yank.

And you can’t lie - maybe you’ve imagined this exact scene a few times before on those lonely nights. But you just never expected Satoru to be so depraved. Desperate.

“Ngh- fuck, Toru-” you reach a hand down to thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his face up. But Satoru doesn’t stop - not even for a second. Tongue still dipping to spread your swollen folds with his tongue, looking you right in the eyes as he murmurs a strangled, “Mhm?” 

“Thought you were gonna prove you’re better, hm?”

So goading. So like you. 

At this, Satoru pulls back ever-so-slightly to laugh - laugh. His plump, glistening lips curling into a humorless little grin, “Oh I will.” Thumb circling your throbbing clit. Just dragging your twitching body across the silky sheets close to his, one hand pinning your hips down. Hard. “I will.”

Loving his new favorite place between your legs one hand toys with your clit, quick, messy little patterns. Tongue even more so. 

“Not just better.” he grunts, “Gonna make you cum so much harder, too.” Having your thighs shake with each word hissed out into your cunt, each turn of his deft fingers. “Till I’m the only thing on your mind. Me.”

And it’s all you can do to let out choked up groans of his name, back arching off the plush mattress to let him make out with your cunt deeper. Sloppier. So, so starved with the way he’s speeding up, tongue dragging across your walls. In and out in and out in and-

“Fuck! Hngh-” you angle his head - and he lets you. “There- Toru-”

Honestly, you didn’t even have to tell Satoru - he could feel it. Could feel it in the way your plushy walls are squeezing his hot tongue so harsh, until it was almost difficult to fuck your pussy so sloppily. In the way you’re letting out such delicious whines each time he grazes against those sweet spots. 

“There? Hah- I know.” he pulls away to muse, and your cute, disappointed whine goes straight to his already rock-hard cock. “Did he?”

He didn’t. And you’re shaking your head so pathetically - in a way you’d be embarrassed about usually. 

But that’s the last thing you’re thinking bout because you feel it - the cold, sinful feeling of Satoru spitting on your filthy cunt. Once. Twice. Blue eyes widening in delight at the way the mess of spit and slick drip down your slit. 

“Cute.” his tongue smoothes over the slutty pool, and the only thing your delirious brain can make out now is a low moan of, “So? Who’s better?”

It’s all you can do to choke out a broken little, “T-T-” Face burning at the way he was so clearly enjoying your struggle. And, well, no matter painfully hard it made his dick - he had to go just a bit easy on his girl, right?

“Shhhh, s’alright.” you flinch as he shoves two absolutely drenched fingers into your mouth, making so much more of a mess of it than necessary. Drinking in your cute gags, “I was asking her.” He’s making your head spin with the way he’s speeding up. “N’ she’s hah- very talkative.” Words muffled, and slurring together - like he was drunk off of you and your cunt. “Let’s hear what she has to ngh- say, huh?”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and squeezing into your sloppy entrance - like he couldn’t - didn’t - want to make up his mind. Oh, with your teary mewls strangled, the sound of Satoru making out with cunt is so loud. The squelches so obscene. 

“Fuuuuck.” he drawls. “Louder than I thought. I think she says I’m better, don’t you think?” 

You angle your head just right to catch the way his jaw grinds deeper into you, eating you out like his last meal. Your slick drooling down his chin so sinfully. 

“Ngh- fuck fuck fuck- ngh-” your yelps are dreamy, feeling like you were losing your mind with the way he was stretching you out. 

Like you were about to snap. Any second now. 

But Satoru’s only increasing his movements, drawing out your little moans. “And I think she’s saying…”  Getting sloppier. More erratic - and it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up now, cock aching with the need to be inside you. “-that she’s about to cum.”

You do - so hard and loud - both you and your cunt. 

You’re shaking, all but gushing all over Satoru’s mouth, tight pussy squeezing his tongue so hard. Barely even realizing the searing grip you’ve got on his hair as you drag your sloppy pussy all over his mouth.

But Satoru doesn’t mind - he gladly welcomes it, in fact. Tonguefucking your snug cunt senselessly, letting you chase your high as roughly as you wanted. Over and over.

Even when you’re vision isn’t as spotty as before, even when nothing’s coming out of your mouth but little whimpers. Your breathing dying down until all that rings in your barely-lucid mind were those obscene noises of Satoru’s lips all on yours. 

“T-Toru-” you whine, big fat tears pricking at your hazy eyes. “M’so sensitive.”

And of course this is Satoru, the same boy who’s been pushing your buttons for years just to giggle at your adorable reactions. Which is why he grins against your twitching cunt, “So?”

It takes everything in you to raise your head off the pillow that just seemed to be swallowing you whole, and even more to shoot Satoru a half-hearted glare. “So m’gonna ngh- assume you’re jus’ a pussy with a s-smaller dick than-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence - he doesn’t let you. Because Satoru’s fumbling with his belt, peeling off those still-drenched pants just enough for you to admire his clothed erection. 

And, shit, admittedly you expected him to have a big dick - having been subjected to way too much locker room talk with your brother - but this was ridiculous. 

“What? Too big?” He flashes you that infuriating grin. Palming his rock-hard cock through his boxers at the way your beautiful eyes trace the outline of his cock, all swollen and big. So intimidatingly big. “Damn, sweetheart, if I knew that this was how I’d get that feisty lil’ mouth of yours to shut up then I’d have done it a lot sooner.” 

And you don’t even know if you’re breathing, the pads of your fingers dancing along his bulge. Tracing those prominent veins. Thumbing that little damp spot at his fat head. “You wouldn’t have.” 

He hisses as your soft hands dip into the hem of his underwear. Voice cracking slightly, “I wouldn’t.”

Then you’re gasping - in sync with Satoru’s low moan - as you finally let him spring free. Thick cock hitting his sculpted abs, red tip smearing precum in a lewd little pool. Weeping and so so angry at the sight of you.

At the heavenly feeling of your thumb teasing under his sensitive slit, “Oh, shit.” 

He’s throwing his head back when you give an experimental pump, all the way from his pretty tip to the tufts fo white at his hilt. Fist gliding all over the thumping veins. Bucking his hips up like such a slut into your touch. 

“O-oh fuck.” he cracks an eye open at the way your hand looked so small compared to his dick, how well you were taking care of him. “Been ngh- dreaming of this since I learned what handjobs were, y’know? Hah- shit- ya gotta stop before I fuckin’ pass out.”

And Satoru thinks he could cum right then and there at the way you’re bringing your soaked index up to your mouth. Batting your lashes as you suck on them with a lewd pop! “From jus’ that?”

“You have no idea.”

That’s all it takes for Satoru to throw your still-quivering thighs over his shoulders, effectively shutting up whatever tease is on the tip of your sharp tongue by kissing your swollen folds with his fat head. Giving it one, long drag. 

Your mouth is sagging open at the slow, torturous teasing. The sheer anticipation that had your mouth running, “S-so much for ah- jus’ being ‘friends’, huh?”

“Oh, sweetheart.” And you’re flinching from Satoru’s deep, dark tone. The way he’s bracing his fingers so bruisingly on your hips, reeling all the way back till his tip was just kissing your hole. “We stopped being friends the day you married me on that playground.” 

And then he’s slamming in - pushing past that first, feeble ring of resistance, gummy walls stretching out so perfectly for him. As if he fit right in - and he tells you that. Pants it into your open mouth a little over fifteen times, in fact. 

“Shiiiit, look at you.” he can’t tear his eyes away from the side of your lips stretching so wide to try and milk him. Sloppy entrance stretching out like magic. “S’like you’re made for me, huh? This pussy is made f’me?”

“Ngh- fuck, Toru! S’too big-” you keen, feet flattening on the mattress. As if to escape. To maybe fucking breathe.  

Not even half-way in yet, but aleady torn between pushing away and sinking yourself down on his swollen cock for more more more-

“Don’t you dare run away.” he warns, looking up at you through his long lashes. “I’ve waited too long for this. N’ you’re not taking this pretty pussy away any time soon.” Inch by fucking inch. Grinding in short, sharps jabs - no rhythm of rhyme, like they were genuinely out of control. “Way too f-fuckin’-” All the way until your puffy folds was meeting his hilt. Finally. All the way in. “-long.”

And once Satoru had you split apart on his dick - had those tears rolling down your cheeks, cunt swallowing him so sluttily - it’s like something snaps. 

Because he doesn’t waste a second - he’s already wasted almost two decades, anyway - filling you up with his mean hips. Not fucking easing you into it because you always did bring out that part of him, the part that him looping two strong arms around your waist. Pulling. 

“Oh- f-fuck c’mere.” Satoru gasps, pressing your body so crushingly against his. Kissing your shaky shoulers, your sweaty forehead, the gentleness so contrasting to his hips.“God I’ve missed out- fuck fuck fuck-” 

You’ve never seen the great Gojo Satoru - campus sex symbol - so uncomposed. Eyes half-lidded, just boring into yours, mouth slack in a soft oh! as he drags his cock all over inside your gummy walls. And the sight is so heavenly that you make the mistake the mistake of cracking a minute smile.

Just barely curling your lips before - “Don’t smile at me like that.” He’s dipping down a hand to roll your ravaged clit between two bullying fingers. “Fuck, she’s gonna be the death of me. Right?”

You keen at the- stimulation? The strech? The sheer embarrassment as you realize that Satou’s still talking to your sloppy pussy? Nodding so mockingly up at you as he plows on, “Mhm, she says you needa be ngh- knocked down a god, you’re tight- peg or two. So- get- ready-” 

He’s using this as an excuse to sit up on his knees, dragging you onto his lap so easily like some ragdoll. 

“That’s more like it.”

You’re sliding deeper down his painfully hard cock - all the way till his heavy balls rest beneath your ass, clit rubbing against his pelvis every time he bounces you like some slut.  

Deep. Ruthless.

“Keep your eyes open, sweetheart.” He chuckles, and you’re screwing open your eyes that you don’t even remember shutting. Trying so hard to stop crying out at the feeling of the curve of his dick massaging your walls. “Ya gotta hngh- see the o-only one who’d fuckin’ you properly, right?”

You squeal when he’s taking your clit captive once more. Finger quick, deft. “Y-yes.”

But that wasn’t enough for Satoru - it might as well never be. Because he’s only ramming his hips up further. Like he’s pushing into your stomach, your lungs, all the way into your cockdrunk brain. Fat head alternating between kissing your poor, abused cervix and all those sweet spots he’d mapped out with his tongue.

“Sounded unsure to me.” he’s pouty against your hardened nipples bouncing enticingly in his face. Fingers quirking faster on your clit, “Maybe I should ngh- stop then?”

“No!” Your hips stutter against Satoru’s. Nails clawing down the sculpted panes of his shoulders, leaving red angry marks for him to take as a sign tomorrow morning that no, it wasn’t just one of his dreams this time. “No no no- m’sure. You’re the only one makin’ me feel this way.”

You can feel the way he’s twitching wildly at your words, dick thumping harder inside your sensitive cunt. 

He punctures each word with a heavy, calculated thrust. Hand stretching and squeezing open your cunt from behind to let him slide impossibly deeper. “Hmmm, I’m not convinced.” 

Your stupid mouth is only capable of letting out broken, choked-up little moans of his name, ankles locking around those dimples at the end of his spine. “S’you–”

“Still not convinced.”

But he’s still speeding up his movements, just dragging you up and down his cock. “Who else made you hah- feel this good?” Sure to claim you from the inside out - to leave marks everywhere. Heavy balls on your ass, weeping tip on your cervix, lips bruised as you whimper at his murmured, “That ex of yours?” Biting down your neck, “That barista that always flirts with you?” Pulling away only to breathe into your lips, “Who?”

“ I- fuck it’s only you, Toru.”

“Sound convincing to you?” Satoru hums down at your cunt, biting his lower lip at the way you were milking him so good. Your slick soaking him all the way down to his balls - so needy in a way he never thought he’d see. “Yeah-” be breathes, nosing at your neck. “She agrees- fuck does this tight lil’ pussy of yours agree.” A few tears, a few gorgeous marks down his back, and he was finally convinced. “You’re mine.”

You don’t even realize it when you’re cumming, and Satoru doesn’t either.

Both of you too caught up in each other to recognize that familiar, white-hot pleasure running down your spine - all the way down to where he was so mercilessly buried in your cunt.  

And you’re well into the blood roaring deafeningly in your ears, the sight of Satoru - all wrecked - blurring as he fucks his hips up. Harsh. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he paints your quivering walls white. 

Cumming and cumming so hard that you can feel his seed dribbling down your thighs, making such a mess all over Satoru’s lap. Your poor, overfilled cunt soon bloated and unable to keep up with it.

“Toru–” you whine, like a prayer. Milking the fucking soul out of him while he gently paws at your messy hair.

“Shhh, I know I know, sweetheart.” Such a stark contrast to the way he was filling you up like his favorite sex toy. Not even bothering to move anymore, one hand on your hip, moving your limp body up and down his sensitive cock to fuck it deeper. The other still playing with your clit, “S’alright, my girl”

Satoru’s hands never leave you, and he prays that now that he got a taste - well, you better be alright with them not leaving you for as long as he lives.

“As long as you live, huh?” you chuckle groggily, a noise so dreamy that Satoru can’t even be mad that he said it out loud. “And all that riling me up these years. Do you have a degradation kink or something?”

“Well, only one way to find out~”

“Oh shut up you-”

SLAM!

“Yooo, I bought dinner from that- WHAT THE FUCK?”

There were only two more lessons to be learned:

Always lock the door. Always. And in case you don’t, a bouquet of lollipops will do the trick to a Suguru reeling from the newest addition to the family. 

Cheap takeout tastes better with an apologetic Suguru, and an ice pack to his cheek - and you to kiss it better.

A/N. Can you tell I kept listening to that one Artemas song while writing this?

Plagiarism not authorized.

Gojo’s unwavering gaze never leaves you as he drinks up your existence—the way your curls fall past your shoulders, the spillage of your breasts over your pretty bra lined with lace, the curve of your waist and matching pair of panties that he’s itching to pull down with his canines. He swallows hard from where he’s propped on his elbows with his legs spread wide hanging over the edge of the bed, his uniform half messily undone and azure eyes glowing bright in the darkness with only the moonlight filtering the space.

“Mind helping me with this?” You utter softly, looking to the man standing close behind you while your fingers trace the strap on your opposite shoulder. Gojo almost forgets that you both aren’t alone when his best friend plants a light kiss just below your earlobe, his meticulous fingers trailing across your back to gently push your hair aside before his index hooks the elastic.

“With pleasure.” A smirk befalls Geto’s lips and he easily unclasps your bra singlehandedly that you catch in your hands before letting the garment fall gracefully to your feet. The warmth of his palm finds your hip once more but you place your smaller hand over his and guide it to the swell of your breast where he gives a breathy chuckle and squeezes tenderly. His thumb glides over the protruding bud, and it has Gojo mesmerized with want and desire to touch and feel and taste you with nothing but his mouth and tongue.

You can see the way Gojo’s cock throb uncontrollably in the constraints of his pants when you turn your attention back to him, and unbeknownst to you he was already collecting pre-cum beneath the layers. He grows more and more restless the longer he watches yours and Geto's drawn-out intimate acts to tease him with the way his fingers grip the sheets just a fraction.

“Leaving me out the fun, huh? How mean.” He complains, and his pouts always have a way of pulling at your heartstrings even though he doesn't actually mean it.

“Just don’t trust you to unhook my bra. Took you ten minutes the last time.” You tease playfully, climbing over him as you litter kisses up along his happy trail to his bare chest and the dip of his collarbones. He moans lowly when you press your mouth just at the pulse of his neck and his head falls back slightly, his hand finding the small of your back with his touch gliding over your spine in a gentle yet possessive manner. “But this… think you could do something about it?” You glance down to your panties with the flutter of your lashes and he thinks you’re just so damn adorable.

“Thought you’d never ask, angel.” Gojo’s face lights up with a grin, flipping you onto your back and his knee slides between your legs to gently part them so he can settle where he knows you want him most. He takes a moment to admire you underneath him, committing every curve and dip to his memory before he descends to worship your gorgeous body with tongueful kisses nibbling and sucking at your smooth skin. When his lips press softly to your clothed clit, he can’t get enough of the lovely sound that escapes you and wants to know what else he hasn’t heard.

“So sensitive, aren’t you princess? I want to hear more of that pretty voice of yours.” He says, slowly pulling your panties down your thighs with his teeth to get a real taste of how perfectly sweet you are.

toji fushiguro finding out he’s fucking with a nymphomaniac is definitely not on this year’s bingo list of his.

he merely thought you were just some pretty chick he’d bang for some time before moving on to the next, he even thought about allowing you to have a taste of a good cock in the meantime— taking pride in the fact that his stamina and bedroom skill is one of the best.

and god did you barge into his life just to snatch that title of sex god away for yourself. you fuck him like he’s nothing but a toy, until he’s nothing but a jolting mess of raw fuck, and as if he’s one of his crying girl.

“You’re still tight,” he groaned, throwing his head back as your walls wrapped around his size, unforgivingly firm. Your cunt was attempting to milk him from the entrance of his cock, and his grip tightened around your ass, the pain stimulating your senses further; rending your walls to tense even more. “Fuck!” the timbre of his voice wavered, he was embarrassingly weak in you.

It’s been the fourth round and as much as Toji would hate to admit it, he was getting drunk off of your little unremitting cunt. The fluttering hot walls around his almost raw girth rubbing and enveloping his senses in tight, sore pleasure and they make his knees weak.

His cock was itching for release with just a few pumps of your dripping cunny, and he had to bite down his need into your lip as you’re eating him up—both by his twitching shaft and blush glazed face. It doesn’t help when you’re practically bouncing on his cock as if it’s your first round, like a rabbit in fucking heat.

“This—haa, pussy too good, huh?” your body jolted when he rolled a thumb over your puffy clit. Which was a huge fucking mistake as your walls fluttered tighter around him, garnering a groan from his sore throat.

“Need m-more, Toji,” you whined into his ear, nails sinking into his flesh as your hips bounced in ceaseless pace. “Fuck me hard—haa. Please, Toji!”

How was he to refuse when you’re all flushed above him, your body gleaming in the dark, and touch so scorchingly hot—both inside and out. “You’re driving me—mmph, crazy, woman,” he grunted as he jerked his hips upwards into your squelching cunt, fat, sensitive cockhead kissing your cervix.

You both cried in sore pleasure with each deep sink of his cock into your hot core. Tears were crowding behind his eyes, and his thighs shook from his throbbing cock. You’re riding him harder and harder, little cunny tightening by the second—Toji was going to cry anytime then. Just from your insatiable libido and cunt.

“Baby—ah! I’m cumming, baby. Fuck—haa,” he moaned, deep and long as his body jerked, pleasure flowed with his blood and through his entire body. You still rode him through his high, even when his cock felt raw to his core and weeping in sensitivity. You were relentlessly chasing after your own orgasm, disregarding the groaning mess under you. “Y’gotta s-stop, baby—” Toji managed to choke through, his fingers tensing into your welted skin as his muscles tensed.

“N-No…not yet!” your tone was desperate, your cunt unrelentingly clenching onto his throbbing cock. Your walls gave a tense squeeze before he felt them flutter around him, your juice gushing all over your thighs and dampening the bedsheets as you threw your head back into a wavering cry. “F-Fuck!”

“You’re insane, woman,” Toji chuckled with a prickling tear at the edge of his eye, your cores sore and twitching in sensitivity as you laid on his chest. He merely drowned in overstimulation then, his mind still blank and mouth thirsty for hydration from the constant orgasms.

You were purring like a contented kitten against his throat, nipping at his salty skin, fingers curling around his softening shaft. “One more?”

“Good God—”

∘₊✧─moment of weakness─✧₊∘

✧ pairing. satoru gojo x fem! reader (also ft suguru geto)

✧ summary. after a rough night at the bar, you are drunk out of your mind and decided to ask your best friend satoru to come pick you up to take you home. but during the car ride the alcohol starts giving you courage, making you feel rather bold as you make a move on your best friend. did this ruin your friendship? was this a mistake, or does he reciprocate your feelings?

✧ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, smut, bit of angst, reader is drunk for first half, friends to lovers, mutual pining, somewhat public sex, car sex, groping while driving, dry humping, handjob teasing (m), fingering (f! receiving), satoru and reader in their 20s and both work at jujutsu high, both are powerful sorcerers, satoru takes care of you while you’re sick, satoru is also being an idiot, suguru makes a move on you, takes place before suguru leaves jujutsu high, will end with fluff

✧ words: 12.7k (yeeeeah idk what happened)

✧ a/n. this will be two parts because I'm currently sitting at 20k words, I have no clue how this happened... so I'm splitting it up. anyways, this is just a little side story that I have had brainrot for and had to get it out :)

✧ part two: pending...

“'toruuuu~” you call his name is a singsong childish voice while he pulls you into an embrace outside of the bar. Leaning into you, he can smell the liquor on you as you sway a little and give him an adorable pout. It’s not often he gets to see you like this.

“Take me home please, I'm bored here,” you sigh and nuzzle into the crook of his neck.        

Amused at this side of you, an affectionate hum leaves his lips as he tugs you even closer. You're being extra clingy today. Satoru can't help but snicker softly, his hold around your waist tightening. His hand slides lower to rest against the curve of your hip; slender, nimble fingers digging into your skin through the thin layer of your skirt.

A low amused chuckle falls from his lips as you snuggled into him. His face buries into your hair, his chin pressed softly against your tilted head. "You're such a needy little thing," he murmurs against your ear, his breath warm and almost ticklish. "And drunk off your damn ass, too. I’ll take you home."

Despite his words, his arms stay where they are. He was relishing in this clingy version of you, much more than the usual, sober you who tends to get irritated by him and push him away.

But who were you to push him away right now? Typically, you would do so in an attempt to distance yourself, to keep yourself in check. Afterall, Satoru is your best friend, but underneath the surface there has always been a part of you that craves more from him. Yet in this moment, you simply want to enjoy his gentle embrace.

With a soft exhale into Satoru's neck, you become enveloped in his warmth. It's a soothing contrast from the cool bite of the outside wind. A low groan escapes his lips as your warm breath tickles his neck, each puff sending a jolt of electricity running down his spine. He wishes he could stay like this forever.

It's always been this way— you're the only person who can make him feel things like this. Satoru and you have been friends for years. It started off as mere fellow jujutsu sorcerers, working together on missions, defeating curses together, but at one point it grew into something much more personal, with your late-night phone calls, lunch dates and movie marathons. That’s how it’s always been now, for as long as you can remember – you, Satoru and Suguru. And despite how much Satoru can get on your nerves sometimes, with his childish demeanor, emotional constipation and somewhat cocky attitude, he is always there for you.

You click your tongue before speaking, a cheeky smirk upon your lips. "Suguru challenged me to a drinking contest. Who am I to say no?"

Satoru's eyebrow quirks up at your response. Trust Geto to influence you into doing stupid things. Though, a subtle hint of irritation stirs within him when you mention his name. He begrudgingly recalls that as of recently, his best friend's gazes tends to linger a moment too long on your figure whenever interacting with you. Satoru’s admiration for you has grown into something he can’t quiet explain. He’s never felt this way about, well, anyone. Yet somehow, you manage to pull at him, thawing the icy heart he shields from everyone else. But he’s scared – if he is to act on those feelings, he’s certain it’ll only cause you both pain. He’s the strongest sorcerer after all, that easily makes you a target. So, he chooses to push his emotions down and continues to be what he’s always been for you, your best friend.

"Of course you're not. You're a glutton for punishment," he sighs, his fingers giving your hip a gentle squeeze. "You just had to prove yourself, huh? Why do I have a feeling you didn't even last a few shots? You're such a lightweight," he teases, his tone a mixture of amusement and affection.

His hand moves lower to hold the back of your thigh – a gasp escaping your lips, immediately followed by a soft giggle as he easily lifts you off your feet. “You're lucky I'm here to take you home, princess."

With a gentle sigh, you rest your head against his chest as he holds you in his embrace. The soft sound of his heartbeat soothes you as he begins to carry you towards his car. "You're the best 'toru. Always taking care of me."

A rare, fond smile tugs at the corners of his lips as you murmur those words, his heart skipping a beat inside his chest. Despite his usual nonchalant and cocky demeanor, Satoru has always had a soft spot for you. He may not admit it, of course, but secretly, he craves your praise.

"Of course I am." he muses, carrying you effortlessly towards his car. As he walks, his chin brushes gently against the top of your head. "Someone has to watch over you so you don't get into trouble. You're a magnet for mishaps." His tone playful, but laced with a hint of protectiveness. "Can't have someone else picking you up from the bar all drunk, now can I?"

Satoru opens the passenger door and carefully sets you inside, leaning over momentarily to click your seatbelt into place. He then walks around and enters the driver side. You lean your head back on the headrest, gently closing your eyes and exhaling with a slight annoyance as you take a moment to recall what happened moments before Satoru picked you up.

"Ugh. You won't believe it. Suguru was insisting I go home with him tonight.. and he was being real persistent," the alcohol is clearly loosening your tongue a bit more, and it doesn’t help that you never really gave yourself a moment to process what had happened.

Satoru freezes for a brief moment, his hand hovering over the ignition. His jaw clenches briefly at the mention of Geto again – did his closest friend actually make a move on you? It sets off a flicker of jealousy within him. Not that he'd explicitly show it, instead, a nonchalant expression maintains his features as he starts up the car. The engine hums to life, casting a low rumble in the otherwise silent vehicle.

"Is that so?" he replies, feigning nonchalance despite the subtle edge that underlines his tone. His gaze briefly flickers in your direction before focusing back on the road. "And why would he suddenly want to do that?"

You stare out at the road and lift an eyebrow, biting your lip as you hesitate – you’ve always had a slight suspicion that maybe Satoru also has feelings for you, he undeniably is affectionate.. but it’s hard for you to know for certain if that affection is romantic since he is always so hot and cold with you. One moment he’s worshiping you, the next he’s pushing you away. And deep down you know it’s probably for the best to remain the way you are – you’re content having him in your life, even if it’s just as your best friend, though a part of you still pines for him.

You wonder how he'll respond when you tell him about Suguru. Satoru’s always been protective over you. But you feel that as your best friend, he should know. That's why you called him. After everything that happened, he was the only person you thought of, the only person you wanted to see.

"Well, considering the way he tried to kiss me tonight, I'm assuming he didn't wanna talk."

Satoru's grip on the steering wheel tightens visibly at your revelation, his knuckles turning slightly paler as his hold on the leather material strains. A wave of bitterness washes over him, his eyes growing darker as he processes what you'd just said. He’s always buried this bitterness deep down when he’d watch you with other men, but Suguru? A twinge of betrayal stirs in him.

His gaze remains fixed on the road ahead, the car's headlights cutting through the night. He clears his throat slightly, his voice low and measured. "And how did you respond to that?"

Bringing your hand to your face, you shake your head in disbelief as if you’re trying to shoo the mere image out of your mind. You, Satoru and Suguru were an inseparable trio. The three of you have been the best of friends for… well what feels like practically forever. But lately, Suguru has been acting rather…odd. That’s why his advances tonight really caught you off guard. It just didn't feel...right.

"Well.. obviously, I pushed him away. I don’t know what came over him, but I was not having it. So, I immediately called you to come get me."

As you describe the encounter, a wave of relief washes over Satoru. It appeases him to know that your reaction wasn't one of reciprocation. His hold on the steering wheel eases a fraction, his shoulders losing some tension. He hums softly in acknowledgment, his gaze flickering in your direction for a brief moment.

"Good," he replies, a hint of protectiveness seeping into his tone. "You should always call me if someone tries to bother you, alright? I'll always come get you. I'd rather have you with me than with anyone else any day."

You giggle and turn your head to the side facing Satoru, the warmth of the alcohol giving a soft flush to your cheeks. You admire Satoru's profile while his eyes are peeled to the road. He is so beautiful in the moonlight, his snowy hair as smooth as silk, tousles hanging loose amongst his white lashes – the headlights illuminating his cerulean blue eyes, eyes you find yourself getting lost in.

Wait.. did he just imply that he wants me? You think.

Have you perhaps had too much to drink? Was that a slip up, or did you imagine it?

"You'd, rather have me with you?" You repeat his words back slowly, gazing at him.

Satoru's grip on the steering wheel loosens slightly, his thumb tracing a lazy pattern against its leather surface as he navigates the darkened roads. He glances in your direction, meeting your gaze for a moment before turning his attention back to the road – the way your eyes trace over his features, bathed by the passing street lights, nearly makes his breath catch in his throat.

The words he uttered moments before replay in his mind, and he realizes just how much they might have revealed. Usually, you’d simply dismiss his subtle advances, or he’d play them off with a witty comment, but tonight there was a look in your eyes, and the gentle seriousness in your voice... It caught him slightly off guard.

"Yeah. I would," he responds, his tone softer than usual.

A brief moment of silence fills the car, his words hanging in the air like a heavy promise. You shift your body to the side entirely, facing directly towards him as you lay back in your seat – your cheek pressed flush against the cool leather as you watch him intently. The intimacy in the car is palpable. You reach your hand out and rest it on Satoru's leg.

"'Toru..."

Satoru's breath hitches at the feeling of your hand on his leg. It's a simple gesture, a subtle touch, but it sends a jolt coursing through his body. The way you say his name in that moment, he’s heard you say it every day, but this was different. The warmth you suddenly inject into the small space, he can’t simply disregard it.

He steals a glance at you, his eyes darkening as he sees the intensity of your gaze. His muscles tense, both from the impact of your touch and the unexpected shift in the atmosphere.

"..yeah?" he replies, his voice a low, almost husky whisper.

You feel the liquor driving your body in a way you cannot stop. You begin to rub small intimate circles on his leg with your fingertips – brushing him ever so gently as you caress slowly up his thigh. There are words you’ve been eager to say but have locked up deep within you – suddenly the alcohol is causing your shackles to break, betraying your sense of restraint.

"I realized tonight.. I really wanted to see you. I only want you. That's why I called," your breath a whisper, your eyes bearing into him with deep longing.

Satoru can barely concentrate on the road anymore. Your gentle touch, the way your fingertips graze over him – it ignites a fire within him. His thighs flex under your caress, your gesture sending sparks of pleasure throughout him.

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Your words, the truth in your confession, hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd been wanting to hear those words for so long, and now that they were finally being voiced, it somehow seemed too good to be true.

He inhales sharply, the air caught in his lungs. "You’re drunk. Only me, huh?" he murmurs, his voice low and hoarse as his gaze momentarily flickers to meet yours. The raw honesty in your eyes stirs something primal within him.

The unpredictable movements of your fingertips begin to climb higher up his thigh, dangerously close to his groin. Your eyes do not waver, intently looking at him with a burning passion. A passion that you had buried deep inside yourself for many, many years.

It’s a passion you’ve been bottling up – you’ve been denying yourself your affection towards Satoru. Denying your love for him. And while there may have been subtle hints that he reciprocated your feelings, there was also an inexplicable fear of breaking the friendship you have built up over many years. That is why usually, you would just turn a blind eye, and so would he. You both accepted this is how it would always be.

But you crave him so much. You crave his touch.

"Only you, 'toru. I... need you."

A soft, almost strangled gasp escapes Satoru's lips as your fingers move higher, the sudden intensity of your touch driving him into madness. He tightens his grip on the wheel, his knuckles turning white from the sheer force. His eyes briefly flicker back to yours, your intense gaze not missed by him.

"Fuck,” he mutters, a hint of desperation in his voice. The need in your words, the way you express your want for him, it causes his stomach to flip in a way he’s never felt before. “What are you doing to me, love?”

Your lips curl into a smile as you hear his voice waver. It’s a side of him you have never had the privilege to see. An intense ache pulses in between your legs as you feel pure, wet, desire begin to cloud your judgement. Why was it you didn’t act more daring with Satoru before? You suddenly can’t remember, because right now all you know is that you just want to hear more of those sounds from him. Make him become undone from you.

Your fingertips brush gently, teasingly, against the slight bulge forming under the taut fabric of Satoru's pants.

"Do you want me to stop?" your voice a silky whisper.

Satoru's breath hitches, a shiver raking down his spine as your fingers brush against the growing arousal in his pants. You have never been this bold with him. It takes every ounce of his restraint not to shudder visibly. He clenches his jaw, his gaze fixated on the road ahead, desperately trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

"I... fuck," he manages to mutter, his gaze flicking between the road and you. "Don't you dare," he responds, his voice thick and raspy. "If you stop, I might just lose my damn mind."

You bite your lip and trace your fingers up to the tip of his now prominent bulge – feeling it twitch with a needy desire underneath your digits. A slight wet patch begins to form, seeping through his trousers. Satoru nearly jerks the wheel as shock waves of pleasure shoot up his spine. A sharp exhale escaping his lips, his body reacting viscerally to your touch. It takes every ounce of control for him not to lose it entirely. He can barely keep his eyes on the road, the urge to look at you, to devour you, is almost unbearable.

You click your tongue smugly, a self-satisfied smile forming across your lips. "Tsk tsk~ 'toru, eyes on the road."

Another strangled sound escapes from somewhere deep within him. The way you touch him, the way you tease him, ignites a fire that burns throughout his veins. His mind is swimming with pure need, his hands trembling against the wheel.

"You're... going to be the death of me," he manages to utter, his voice a strained growl. But he can't stop himself from glancing at you, his azure eyes almost black with desire. "You're such a damn tease. I want to pull over and... God." He trails off, his teeth clenched.

You press your palm down on his erection, feeling it grow underneath the pressure, and you enjoy quite literally having him in the palm of your hands. The street lights darting behind Satoru's longing stare, each flicker of light revealing beautiful glimpses of his desperation for you.

"Come on 'toru. Hurry up and take me home. We're almost there," you knowingly tease him with a subtle plea.

Satoru’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, his head falling back against the seat, as you press your palm against his aching length. Was he dreaming? He lets out a low groan, a mixture of need and frustration that he's unable to act on, yet. His eyes flash open and he briefly shakes his head as he quickly remembers he’s still infact driving.

He growls and presses down on the gas, the speed of the car gradually increasing as he fights to maintain his control. "You'd better be ready for what you're doing to me, love. You're playing with fire."

The road stretches ahead, the car's headlights illuminating the way, the distance seemingly insurmountable. You catch sight of familiar houses through the window behind Satoru, which immediately tells you that you are on the street of your apartment complex. Feeling that needy ache between your legs again, you crave more. Your hand trails up to the zipper of Satoru's pants, slowly pulling it down to expose his boxers, bulge pushing hard against the cloth as it is covered in a pool of precum – aching, and desperate for you.

"God, 'toru," you gasp at the sight. Even though it is hidden underneath the fabric, you can tell that it is undeniably, big.

The sound of the zipper being undone is like a siren's call in his ears, his breath catching in his chest. "Fuck," he mutters, his voice a gravelly rasp. "You're... unbelievable. You're... so damn impatient," he manages to bite out, his voice a wrecked, strangled whisper.

His thighs tremble with an uncontrollable shudder as you look at his arousal – he looks at your soft supple lips, and he wants so badly to shove his cock deep into your throat, the need to have you consuming him, gasping and moaning. It’s an imagine that he would often fantasize about.

"If you keep teasing me like this, I promise you—” as he trails off the car suddenly comes to a halt, the engine shutting off as Satoru pulls up to the curb outside your apartment building.

The moment the car stills, the only sound being the rhythmic pace of his ragged breaths, Satoru looks over at you, his eyes raking in the sight of your face — flushed and full of yearning. His gaze dark and intense, his pupils dilated with raw desire.

He watches as you unbuckle your seatbelt, the sound of the click echoes in the small space. And in that moment, it acts as if a switch flipped inside of him, unleashing something primal within. He quickly unbuckles his own seatbelt and turns towards you with haste.

His hand promptly reaches out, grasping your wrist, his grip firm and unrelenting. "Not so fast," he murmurs, his voice low and commanding. He reaches for your thighs, his fingers almost trembling with the need to touch you. His body moves with a desperate fervor and a harsh grip as he tugs you across the center console and onto his lap, his strong arms encircling you tightly. The air is thick with tension, the desire between you two palpably tangible.

"Come here," he whispers. His hand grasping the back of your neck and guiding you towards him. You feel your clothed clit press against his length and moan, pushing forward as you crash your lips against his own.

The moment your lips meet his, he practically growls, his own groan mingling with yours as you rock against his aching arousal. His hands immediately finding purchase against your thighs, his grip on you is almost bruising, a physical manifestation of his need for you.

The taste of you, the feel of your body on his lap, pushes him to the edge of what little control he had as his hands begin to wander freely, roaming possessively over your body, as if he needs to touch you everywhere at once – touching and massaging, as if trying to commit every curve and contour to memory.

His tongue dips into your mouth, exploring and claiming your tongue hungrily.  His hands moving beneath your shirt, his palms searing against your skin. “You.. don't know... how long... I've wanted you," he manages to mutter between kisses – his breath coming in as hot gasps as his body trembles with the sheer intensity of his desire.

A guttural moan rumbles from deep within his chest, his hips jerking involuntarily as you grind against him. He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing down the length of your neck, his teeth nibbling and biting possessively along the way. A hand underneath your shirt cups your breast, gently flicking your nipple between his index finger and thumb, while his other hand roams below your skirt, greedily seeking to touch more of you as he circles around your wet sensitive bud through your already soaked underwear.

“Nngh… ‘toru,” you moan. The heat between you two is fierce, a burning tension that has been years in the making. He relishes the sound of his name escaping your lips in a desperate moan. He wants to hear it again, hear the sound of it on your lips, as he claims you entirely.

His hand on your clit moves hungrily, his touch exploring greedily as he aches to feel more of your arousal. “You're so wet for me," he breaths against your skin, his touch growing more insistent, more urgent. "I can feel how badly you want this. Need this."

He pulls the fabric of your panties to the side, exposing your pretty folds dripping in pools of nectar, and he begins to tease your entrance. His mouth moves from your neck to your ear, his lips grazing over the sensitive flesh of your earlobe. "Say my name again," he whispers, his voice a low, demanding growl.

“Please… ‘toru,” you plead. Satoru's eyes fix on your face, he drinks in the sight of you – flushed and filled with need, lips plump and pink. A sight he’s only ever dreamed of, and now he cannot believe that he actually has you like this on top of him. It’s so captivating it makes his heart pound against his ribcage like a caged beast.

He moans softly against your ear, a low growl rumbling in his throat as you say his name — just how he wanted. His own breath comes in ragged gasps as he continues to tease your entrance. "That's it," he murmurs, his voice roughened with need. "Beg for me. Beg me to give you what you need."

An inch of his finger presses against your entrance, his touch gentle yet insistent, as his thumb slowly circles your sensitive bud, teasing and tormenting you, his touch hungry and demanding.

"You're so unfair," you moan, pleading and desperate for more. "Please 'toru, please. Need you now."

"Good girl," he grins as he parts your lower lips and thrusts his digit in deep, feeling the warmth around your plush warm walls. Your body arches back in pleasure as you let out a loud and longing moan. The sound of your moan fills the air, a symphony of desire that only feeds the fire within him. "You're so pretty like this," he murmurs, his voice a ragged whisper. "So desperate. So needy."

He begins scraping inside you softly and slowly, curling his fingers up as your walls clamp down on him, needy for more. You feel the heat rising in the car. The air is thick with your combined breaths, the windows fogged up like a veil of desire.

“Fuck ‘toru.. so good… need more,” pleading to him between your moans, your essence dripping onto him while the squelching sound of your juices fill the air.

"You want more, huh?" he breathes, his voice a low, growl. "You want everything I have to give, love?" He continues to tease you, his finger and thumb working in unison as he adds a second digit, his movements insistent. "Well, I intend to give you just that."

Moaning his name in pleasure from the intrusion, you slowly rock your hips upon his hand. The other hand continues to caress your breast as his claims your nipple with soft stimulating circles. You feel yourself eagerly approaching a sweet release. "Nnngh, don't stop 'toru... m' close"

"So close," he echoes, his voice a low, gravelly growl. "I can feel you clenching around my fingers, love. You want it so badly, don't you?" He continues, his pace quickening, determined to send you over the edge.

Your hands take purchase on Satoru's hair, intertwining his white locks between your fingertips, you lightly pull at the tousles with a desperate need to grab something, anything, as you ride out the wave of overwhelming ecstasy that he gives you. Satoru leans into the touch of your hands as you grasp for him, his eyes never leaving your face. The sight of you, flushed and wanting, only feeds his desire to give you what you need, his cock throbbing underneath you.

His fingers continue their onslaught, increasing pace and delving deeper into your core, his own breath coming in ragged gasps. You rest your forehead gently against his own while the speed of your grinding increases, eagerly matching the movement of his thrusts. "That's it sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice a ragged whisper. "Just let go for me. I want to feel you come unraveled in my hands."

His motions become more insistent, his fingers finding the spots that make you shudder and gasp. "Nnngh.. Satoru.. m' cuming."

"Cum for me, love. I want to hear you scream my name," he breathes against your lips before he captures them in a heated kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth with fervor. His fingers move more urgently, his pace relentless, determined to send you over the edge – and he does just that as you come completely undone on top of him. Moaning his name into his mouth, you feel the sweet release drip down his hand, drenching him completely.

Fuck, he wanted to cum right then and there. Holding you close, his arm encircles your waist as he swallows your moans, his tongue claiming your mouth as he kisses you deeply and greedily. His fingers slow their pace, gently guiding you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Pulling away from the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours while groaning in satisfaction. “That's my girl," he breathes, his voice a husky whisper. "You're so beautiful."

He slowly withdraws from within you, his hand glistening with your sweetness, and he brings his fingers to his mouth, slowly licking them clean while a low groan of pleasure escapes his lips. “Need to taste more of you.”

Every nerve in your body begins to sing with hungry desire, your head slightly spinning from the liquor while your skin tingles with the aftershocks of your pleasure. The sight of him, lazily licking his fingers clean, sends a new wave of heat through you, and Satoru’s words, so primal and possessive, only serve to stoke the flames of need within you. He shifts beneath you, his hands moving to your thighs now, gripping you tightly and pulling you down closer to his evident arousal, only separated against the thin fabric of his boxers.

"You'd better get me upstairs,” you urge, breathless from the heat of the moment and hungry for more – more of him. All of him. “I don’t think I can bear much more of this. Need you inside me," your breath tickles him as your teeth lightly nip at the sensitive skin across the length of his neck, moaning softly while you leave a trail of burning kisses across his flesh.

His body shudders under your touch as you graze him, and you feel his cock twitch against you. The feeling of your mouth on his skin is like a drug, driving his desire to a fever pitch. He leans back against the headrest, his head tilting back in pleasure, exposing more of his neck to your hungry lips.

"You're driving me crazy," he growls, his voice a low, gravelly whisper. "The things I want to do to you... you don't need to tell me twice."

But while he fumbles for the door handle, you grin against the crook of his neck as you begin to press yourself further on top of him, slowly grinding against his aching length. Ragged gasps escape his lips and you are pleased with how you have him writhing beneath you.

“Nngh.. fuck it,” he hisses. “I need you. Right. Now. Hold on tight."

And in a moment, you feel yourself pulled by a magnetizing force. You blink, and suddenly there you are, laying against Satoru exactly as you were, but now directly on top of your bed inside your apartment. He teleported you there, unable to wait a second longer.

You’ve experienced Satoru’s teleporting technique in the past, but there is one thing you both failed to take into consideration, you were drunk. The sudden force of being projected through space and time makes your stomach twist in discomfort, you bring your hand to your mouth in an attempt to fight off the nausea, and Satoru's eyes widen as he realizes the sudden shift in your demeanor, the color draining from your face as you quickly scramble off of him.

A pang of guilt stabs at his heart as he realizes what he's done – he had temporarily forgotten your slightly impaired state. Concern etched across his features, he watches you stumbling towards the bathroom, your balance betraying you. Satoru springs to action, catching you, his hands reaching out to steady you.

"Fuck," he curses under his breath, his hands gently encircling your waist as he leans you against him, guiding you carefully. "Shit, love, I'm so sorry. I wasn't thinking. You alright?"

The room begins to spin as Satoru guides you towards the toilet. You slump down in front of it and begin retching, the nausea beating you in an already lost battle. Tears well up in your eyes from the burning pain that stings your throat.

Satoru's expression twists in concern as he kneels beside you on the floor, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on your back. The sight of your tears makes his heart sink, and a mix of guilt and worry clouds his features.

"Shhh... it's okay, love," he reassures, his voice laced with remorse. "Shit, I'm sorry. I should've known better.. guess I didn’t think that one through. I really shouldn't have teleported you like that in your state."

You sit in front of the toilet for what feels like an eternity, and Satoru stays beside you the entire time, offering what little comfort he can while you let it all out. You feel your body overcome with exhaustion, aching from the tension of each agonizingly painful convulsion. As you let out the last of what your stomach has to offer, your breath becomes ragged, panting with fatigue. You curl up into a ball, resting your head on Satoru’s lap whilst closing your eyes in a desperate attempt to stop the overwhelming feeling that the room is spinning.

He gently brushes away the hair that sticks to your sweaty forehead, his touch tender and caring. "I'm sorry," he whispers softly. "I should have been more thoughtful. I shouldn't have let my impatience ruin things. I was just so caught up in the moment. You're in this state because of me."

You let out a long deep exhale while your eyes remained closed, the sound of his voice giving you slight comfort. “Satoru. I’m in this state because I thought having three shots of hard liquor and five mixed drinks was a good idea. This isn’t your fault.” Reaching for his hand, you intertwine your fingers with his own. “You weren’t the only one caught up in the moment..”

He squeezes your hand in return, his grip firm yet gentle. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, tracing small patterns on your skin.

"You know, for a woman who just emptied her stomach, you sure still know how to put things into perspective," he muses.

You scoff, a slight smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “What can I say, I’m a guru.”

"Yeah, sure. You’re a guru. Guru of making poor choices, maybe," he quips back at you with a grin. “You really thought five drinks was a good idea? You've always been a lightweight, but this time you really outdid yourself, princess," he teases.

“Shut up.” You laugh, your eyes still closed as you nuzzle your face more into the warmth of his lap.

He lifts his other hand to your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that lingered on your cheek. "I still feel guilty, though," he admits, his voice carrying a gentle tone. "I should have been more cautious, especially since I know how your tolerance is when you're drunk."

"Well hey, at least we’ve learned our lesson, right? No more teleporting drunk girls."

He chuckles and lets out a small sigh, his eyes tracing the contour of your face. "You've always been a handful when you're drunk, always tending to do things recklessly when alcohols involved. Like drinking more than you should, or getting your hand stuck in the Pringles can. Or…" he trails off, briefly recalling your shared passion in the car.

Your tired eyes flutter open, revealing a lazy smile as you respond with a playful glint. "Oh come on, getting my hand stuck in a Pringles can was a one-time thing. And it was your fault."

He looks down at you with a mixture of concern and affection. Was this all just another one of your drunk antics? He desperately wanted to know your feelings, but now wasn’t the time. You needed rest, and it’s probably best if you’re both level headed for that conversation.

"You’re gonna drink some water and brush your teeth, alright? Then, we'll get you into bed," his voice is gentle yet firm.

You nod weakly in agreement, appreciating his care and concern in that moment. The events of the night and the nausea had drained any energy you had left. Summoning the little strength that you had to pull yourself up from the floor, Satoru's supportive presence is there to stabilize you. You allow him to help you to your feet, steadying yourself against him as the room continues to spin.

"Yeah, that sounds like a good plan," you mumble softly. "I'm so tired.”

Satoru's touch is gentle and attentive as he guides you through a routine of cleaning up - supporting you to the sink to brush your teeth, helping you brush your hair and gently drying your face with a clean towel.

“Thank you, ‘toru." You mumble softly, and he smiles warmly in response. His arms lift you from the bathroom, carrying you like a delicate treasure through the hallway to your bedroom. He slowly lowers you onto the soft bed sheets with a feather-light touch and brings you a glass of water.

Satoru tenderly strips you of your evening clothes, replacing them with the comfort of your satin pajamas. The fabric is soft and soothing against your weary body and his fingers delicately guide each limb as he moves. He pulls the blankets over you, tucking you in like a cocoon. You shiver slightly as the cool sheets touch your skin, but as you sink into the softness of your bed, the exhaustion seeps into your bones, and you can feel your eyelids growing heavy.

Kneeling beside the bed, Satoru gently brushes a strand of hair away from your forehead, searching your face with a mixture of concern and affection. "Do you need anything else?" he asks, his voice a low and soothing murmur.

With a soft smile of contentment on your face, you reach a drowsy hand over to him and grab onto the fabric of his shirt, holding onto him. "Stay with me," you murmur, the words barely more than a tired whisper.

He chuckles softly, endeared by your drowsy voice and the way you hold onto him. Without another word, he carefully maneuvers himself onto the bed, climbing in beside you. Once he's settled in, he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms tightly around your body.

He reaches forward to switch off your bedside lamp, plunging the room into a soothing darkness. He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your familiar scent as he settles into the comfort of holding you. "I'm here," he whispers softly, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear. "Not going anywhere, love."

You feel warm – this is everything you’ve always wanted. But as you battle falling out of consciousness, you cannot stop your mind from racing. The memories of Satoru being hot and cold with his affection of you in the past – you desperately hope your feelings reached him properly. After all this, he wouldn’t push you away again… right?

“Don’t leave…” your words a soft murmur in the quiet room, revealing the vulnerability and fear lurking in the depths of your heart.

Satoru's expression turns somber as he considers your plea, his arms instinctively tightening their embrace around you. "I'm not going anywhere." he repeats, his voice soft in your ear. He feels the weight of your body relax against him as you slowly drift off to sleep.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

As you slowly slip into unconsciousness, Satoru remains wide awake, his thoughts swirling like a tempest in his mind. The memory of your shared passion weighs heavy on him, it was a moment where you were drunk while he was sound in mind – he can't shake the feeling that he was too selfish, too impulsive. He feels torn between the desire to submit to his love for you and the knowledge that it may put you in danger. Guilt gnaws at his heart.

∘₊✧

A slight beam of sun filters in through the curtains of your apartment, casting rays upon your face. Your eyes flutter open and you immediately feel an intense pang upon your temple, suddenly remembering just how much you drank last night.

You exhale in discomfort, rolling to the side to see yourself greeted with an empty bed… the sheets beside you are cool to the touch, evidence of Satoru's absence. Suddenly, memories of last night begin to flood your mind. You groan, covering your face with your arm. You acted recklessly… but you don’t regret it. You’ve desperately wanted Satoru for so long, and now you really didn’t want to lose him. Does he think last night was a mistake?

Your phone suddenly pings with a text notification. You fumble to reach for it on your nightstand, wincing as the brightness of the screen assaults your sensitive eyes. As you read the words in the message your heart jumps – can we talk about last night?

Fluttering your eyes briefly, you rub them sleepily in an attempt to steady your vision. You prop yourself up on your bed and take another good look at the message.

Suguru Geto: Can we talk about last night?

The phone feels heavy in your hand as you consider how to respond. You groan and plop back down into the mattress face first, the memories of Suguru's attempted kiss at the bar last night adding another layer of complication to your already throbbing headache.

You know you’ll need to address Suguru, but first you needed to get some food and medicine in you. After taking some Tylenol and chugging three glasses of water to help with the aftermath of your drunken night, you make a cup of coffee and fix yourself a slice of toast and a banana, hoping it'll quell the empty feeling in your stomach. You take a seat at the table, slowly nibbling on the food and sipping the coffee, feeling the caffeine start to help clear your still groggy state.

Once you've had your small makeshift breakfast, you pick up your phone again, steeling yourself to reply to Suguru's message. You muster the courage and quickly type –

Me: Yeah, we can talk.

You continue to take another sip of your coffee, and are surprised to see the phone chime almost immediately after you sent your message.

Suguru Geto: Okay. Meet you later tonight? After work?

Me: Sure.

∘₊✧

As you enter through the doors of Jujutsu High, Shoko's voice cuts through the air, making you wince as your lingering headache throbs.

“You look like shit,” she bluntly remarks as she observes you shuffle heavily on the floor, black sunglasses shield your gaze from the intense light that searches for you through the windows of the hallway.

“Gee, thanks Sho,” you mumble sarcastically.

She raises an eyebrow before continuing, her voice laced with a hint of suspicion. “By the time I got to the bar, you were already gone. You left earlier than I expected, we didn’t even get to do karaoke. What happened last night?”

“Honestly?” you say, trying to find the words. “I’m not even too sure myself what happened last night. What did Suguru tell you?”

Shoko studies your face closely, her eyes narrowing as she tries to make out your expression behind your dark sunglasses. She takes a moment to assess your state, her expression a mixture of concern and subtle curiosity.

"He didn't say much," she says slowly. "Just that you had a good time at the bar and then you randomly left early. But I could tell something was bothering him. He seemed pretty… distracted." She pauses for a moment, tilting her head slightly. "He also mentioned that you left with Gojo," she adds.

“Yeah… I was feeling sick so he took me home,” you reply slowly, trying not to give too much away. You really wanted to talk to Satoru himself before mentioning anything about last night to anyone else.

Shoko furrows her brow at your response, sensing that there's more to the story than what you're letting on. But she doesn't press further, sensing your reluctance to say more.

“Hey, speaking of… where is Satoru?” you ask while briefly glancing through the halls. “Usually he’s the first one here, ready to pester me.”

"Gojo's been pretty mysterious today. He got here earlier this morning, but he was in a weird mood. He didn't say a word to anyone and just headed straight to his office. He seemed preoccupied with something."

“I see...” you say, slight concern filtered in your voice. You really wanted to talk to Satoru, but does he want space? He left while you were sleeping last night, hasn’t texted you, and didn’t greet you like he usually does. Your heart feels a bit heavy with concern – you really hope that your actions didn’t ruin things between you two. How would you even face him? You shake your head, trying to push away the lingering thoughts. Time to focus on the task at hand – you had to get through work, then later you’d address Suguru.

Shoko eyes you closely, sensing the hint of worry in your voice. She hesitates for a moment before speaking, her voice a gentle yet firm reassurance. "Don't worry about it, I'm sure he's just busy. You know how he is, being the strongest and all."

You nod, trying to brush off the nagging feeling that something was off with Satoru. Maybe he really was just busy. "Yeah, you're right," you say, forcing a smile. “Anyways I gotta head to my mission. See you around Sho.”

"See you later. Be careful on your mission, okay?" With a final wave, she turns to head towards her own work. You take a deep breath and trek forward as you mentally prepare yourself for your assignment. You can’t afford to be distracted right now.

∘₊✧

While you’re nowhere near as strong as Satoru or Suguru, you are by no means a weak sorcerer. You hold the rank of Grade A, slowly making a name for yourself in the Jujutsu world. Typically, you can handle missions on your own, it’s really not often that you’re paired up with anyone for your assignments, but today you’ve been paired up with your fellow sorcerer, Nanami Kento, and thank god you are because the bothersome hangover almost makes you lose sight of a dreadful curse lurking in the shadows. It lunges directly at you – Nanami saves you with a black flash and eliminates the curse effortlessly.

Nanami shoots you a disapproving glance. "You need to pay attention," he says gruffly, his eyes narrowing at your distracted state. "You could've avoided that attack if you weren't so lost in thought."

You nod with a subtle grimace, and of course Nanami, as observant as ever, notices your struggle. "Are you alright, y/n?" he asks, his eyes still firm but there is concern in his voice.

“Yeah… thanks Nanami. Guess I’m just a little out of it today. Can you finish up here? I’ll go head back to campus and report to Yaga.”

Nanami studies you for a moment, his gaze assessing your tired appearance before nodding in understanding. "Alright. Be careful on your way back."

You head back towards Jujutsu High, the walk is peaceful, the sun slowly meeting the horizon. You look down at your phone, it reads 4:47pm. Your empty mailbox gnaws at you, it’s clear evidence that Satoru still hasn’t reached out to you. Agitated, you hastily tap your fingers on the keyboard, and hit send –

Me: Hey. Thanks for taking care of me last night.

After the message is sent, you stare at your phone, your fingers tapping the screen anxiously, waiting for a reply – a blue bubble, anything. But the minutes tick by and there’s nothing. The empty screen mocks you, the silence deafening, your heart sinks further.

Were you overthinking things? A pang of disappointment chews at you as the screen remains stubbornly empty. You brush your phone into your pocket and continue to walk towards the school. After a few silent minutes, although it felt like an eternity, you feel the buzz in your pocket. Quickly, you pick it up and look down to see a simple reply.

Satoru Gojo: Anytime.

A scoff escapes your lips, frustration and worry tug at the corners of your mind. The one worded message just as unbearable as his radio silence. Shaking your head, you stuff your phone back into your pocket as you walk through the entrance of Jujutsu High once again. Is this day over yet? Oh yeah, you almost forgot, you still have to talk to Suguru. Your misfortune never ends.

∘₊✧

“I see, so you and Nanami successfully defeated the curse in Ginza.” Principal Yaga speaks to you while he shuffles through the papers on his desk, his eyes not looking up at you while you give him your mission report.

“Great work y/n. You can head home for today,” But as you’re about to step out the door, Yaga promptly stops you with a sudden request.

"Actually, y/n. One more thing.”

“Yes sir?”

“Before you leave, could you bring some of these documents to Gojo for me? He was supposed to handle them yesterday, but you know how he is…" he gestures to the mound of documents on his desk with a disheveled sigh. "This is urgent – the higher-ups are getting impatient."

Satoru. The thought of seeing him right now makes you anxious, however, you know that you can't refuse Yaga's request. What excuse could you possibly give Yaga anyways? You nod, feigning nonchalance while taking the pile of papers from him. "Alright," you reply, the weight of the thin parchment feeling heavy in your hands. "I'll make sure he takes care of them."

As you gather the courage to approach Satoru's office, you can hear your heart pounding in your own ears. You halt directly in front of the door and with a deep breath, you knock firmly on it. His muffled voice instructs you to enter.

The office is dimly lit, the setting sun casting shadows across the room. He sits behind his desk and his eyes flicker up to you, but his expression remains enigmatic. Those piercing azure pools seem to stare straight through you, and you can immediately see they are somewhat detached. He leans back in his chair, his gaze fixated on you as he assesses your presence. The air between you both is thick with tension.

"Hey," he says simply, breaking the silence that hangs heavy in the room, his usual playful demeanor replaced with a more reserved one, causing a pang of trepidation to shoot through you.

“Hey,” you utter. “Yaga sent me to give you these documents,” you set them down on the desk in front of him amongst more stacks of papers. “He says it’s really important you address it.”

Satoru glances idly down to the papers before looking back up at you, his expression still unreadable. His usual smirk is nowhere to be seen; it is instead replaced by a hard, serious look that leaves you feeling unsettled.

“Thanks,” he replies curtly. He picks up the stack of papers and flips through them, his eyes skim over the words without a hint of emotion.

“So… um,” you begin, unsure what it is you want to say but desperate to see him feel something, anything, that will give you some sense of relief from the growing knot in your stomach. “Have a busy day?”

Satoru looks up from the stack of papers, his gaze locking onto yours, a flicker of irritation in his eyes. He lets out a dry chuckle, a shadow of his usual playful self. "Busy?" he repeats, with a hint of annoyance. "Yeah, I guess you could call it that. Meeting after meeting, curses left and right, and the higher-ups breathing down my neck as usual." He sighs deeply, running a hand through his messy white hair.

You know that everything about him is telling you to leave him alone, but your heart aches seeing this side of him. You feel a slight sense of guilt knowing that you probably caused more trouble for him last night, considering how late he was up taking care of you. Satoru always has so much on his plate, being the strongest sorcerer and all. He’s always sacrificing his own wants and needs for everyone else.

You yearn to break his icy front. He’s always putting on a façade, never really great about talking about his emotions, opting to brush them aside with feigned aloofness. Biting your cheek, you finally let the words come out.

“Yeah… well thank you again for taking care of me last night. Sorry I caused you trouble.”

His eyes narrow slightly at your mention of last night, his expression faltering momentarily before he quickly regains his composure. That brief lapse was enough to tell you that he didn’t want you to bring it up. He sets down the stack of papers and leans back in his chair, his arms crossing his chest.

“It’s fine,” he says, waving off your thanks. “You’re just a goddamn pain in the ass when you’re drunk.” There’s a subtle smirk on his face, but it’s lacking his usual teasing tone. “Wasn’t the first time,” he mutters as his gaze returns to the stack of papers in front of him. “Though you definitely were more clingy than usual.”

“Satoru.. about that…”

“—let’s just forget about it, okay?” he interjects, his body tense, his tone icy and his eyes peeled on the papers in front of him. “It meant nothing. You were drunk and horny, I just happened to be within reach.”

Your heart drops as a wave of emotions crash through you. You felt many things in that moment. Hurt. Sad. Angry. Very angry. You were trying so hard to be mature about this but his dismissive attitude was shattering what little composure you had. He wasn’t even giving you a moment to speak. Quite frankly, you had enough.

“Are you serious right now?” your voice laced with an evident sting.  

Satoru’s eyebrow raises at your sharp tone. Despite his cold demeanor, the slightest hint of surprise flickered across his features as you retorted. His gaze lifts from the papers in front of him to meet your hurt and fuming expression.

"I’m serious," he snaps back coldly. "It was a drunken mistake. Nothing more. It didn’t mean anything." He pauses, watching you intently, waiting for your response, but you are momentarily speechless as you clench your fist in frustration.

“What?” he continues, his tone sharp. “You don’t like it when I speak the truth? Because that’s what it was. It was just a drunk accident.”

“Oh, so you’re speaking for me now?” you quip. “Who are you to say what it meant to me. I was the only one drunk last night, not you.” You feel your eyes getting wet as you fight back the tears that you desperately try to stop from falling, a lump in your throat from the pain of holding them back. “So, tell me Satoru, is that what it was for you?”

“What do you want me to say? That it meant something? That I’ve secretly been pining for you all this time?” He chuckles bitterly, his gaze hard as he looks up at you. "Sorry, sweetheart. It wasn’t anything more than what it was. If you want a friend to sleep with, why don’t you crawl over to Suguru. I’m sure he’d be happy to please you."

The second the words leave his lips he instantly regrets them. His eyes widen slightly as he realizes the weight of his hurtful words, the stoic front he was maintaining crumbles as he watches a teardrop trickle down your smooth cheek, its salty wetness carving a path of sorrow. He knew that he took it too far. He was trying to push you away, to protect you from himself, protect you from his true feelings.

He closes his eyes for a brief moment, his jaw clenching as he tries to keep his own emotions in check. He hates himself for making you feel this way… but his own fears, his own insecurities, have gotten the better of him. When he opens his eyes again, he looks at you apologetically.

"I... I didn’t..." he attempts to backtrack. But before he can find the right words to say, the sound of your choked, heartbroken gasp makes him freeze.

“You have some real nerve, Gojo.” He can see the hurt, anger, and frustration in your expression, the tears were really coming out now. You felt shattered, feeling as if last night meant nothing to him – as if you meant nothing to him.

You turn your back to him as you shift towards the door, and angling your head to the side, you speak your final peace before ultimately taking your leave. “You know what? At least Suguru is vulnerable with me about his feelings. I’m done. If you won’t even listen to what I have to say, what’s the point. Guess I’ll save my breath.”

The sound of your trembling voice pierces through his chest like a knife, pained and frustrated. He clenches his jaw, fighting back his own emotions and the growing guilt that threatens to overwhelm him.

As he watches you leave, the door swings shut behind you. He’s left alone with the silence of his office suffocating him. Every fiber of him screams to go to you, to apologize, to explain himself, but he simply can’t move and the words he wants to say feel stuck in his throat.

“Damn it,” he mutters under his breath. He rests his arms on his desk and buries his face into his hands, his mind replaying the scene over and over again. He knows he’s royally fucked up – the damage is done.

∘₊✧

The sound of your footsteps echo in the campus hallways as you wipe the streaming tears off your face. Oh god, please don’t let anyone see you like this right now. You really can’t bear it. Right now, all you want is to just crawl into bed and cry. Your best friend’s words are ringing in your mind, each retelling making the tears fall harder. You felt so stupid. So embarrassed.

You push through what feels like a never-ending hallway until finally, stepping outside, you are met with Suguru leaned up against the rail of the stairway, waiting for you. He looks relaxed as always, eyes peering out through the Jujutsu campus, a cigarette between his fingers, the smoke gently curling in the air around him.

When he looks up, the sight of your tear-stained face makes him straighten up immediately. Your expression is one of raw emotional pain. Without a second thought, he quickly stubs out his cigarette and pushes himself off the railing, walking directly towards you, his voice laced with worry.

“Hey,” he says gently. “Are you alright? What happened?”

You don’t know what else to do, desperate for comfort, you run into Suguru’s arms, tears streaming down your face as you sob into his shirt. As you collapse into his arms, the force of your body against him is almost enough to knock him off balance, but he steadies himself, wrapping his arms around you as he holds you tightly against his chest. He's silent for a moment, just letting you cry, his hand gently rubbing soothing circles on your back.

After some time, he speaks, his voice gentle and filled with concern. "Y/n... what happened?"

You exhale sharply, your breath quivering as it escapes your mouth. Sniffling, you dry your eyes and shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it right now. Please.. can we just go?”

Suguru looks down at you, his heart clenching at the sight of your broken expression. He nods silently, his hand still rubbing gentle circles on your back. "Yeah," he replies softly. "Let's get out of here."

He gently releases you from his embrace, keeping one arm wrapped around your shoulders as he guides you away from Jujutsu High.

∘₊✧

The car ride with Suguru is quiet. For your planned talk tonight, he had arranged for reservations at a charming little restaurant in a peaceful village. He briefly mentioned how he recently discovered it on an assignment he was sent on. Truth be told, you feel a bit guilty, him doing all this. After all, he went through all this trouble, and it appears that he’s willing to put his best effort forward to have a real, mature conversation with you about how he tried to kiss you last night. Suguru means so much to you, but as much as you hate to admit it, you simply can’t reciprocate his feelings, and you know that tonight will likely lead to some sort of heartache. You’ve been dreading this conversation; likely due to fear you’ve been bottling up – part of you hopes that your friendship doesn’t falter because of this. You’ve already lost one best friend today… frankly you don’t think you can handle losing another.

Suguru steals glances at you every so often as he drives through the village. He can sense your quiet demeanor and the lingering traces of sadness in your face. It’s clear that you’re still upset about something, but he doesn’t dare to pry, allowing you to have some space to collect your thoughts.

When he pulls up in front of the restaurant, he turns off the ignition and looks at you. "We’re here," he says softly, his voice gentle and tinged with concern.

As you enter the restaurant, the quaint atmosphere immediately begins to soothe your weary soul. The gentle music playing, the soft hue, and the smell of delicious food wafting through the air work together to create a warm and comforting environment.

Suguru leads you to a cozy booth in a somewhat secluded corner of the restaurant and slides in opposite of you.

His eyes study you silently. He watches as your gaze roams around the room, taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, before finally you focus on him. “The food here is pretty good,” he comments, attempting to break the ice between you. “I hope you like it.”

“Mmm,” you hum, nodding. “It smells amazing. I’m really hungry. I barely ate this morning. My stomach was turning all day from last night.”

Suguru winces slightly as memories of last night resurface in his mind. "Yeah… about last night," his voice tentative. "We should probably talk about that."

“Right,” you lock eyes with him as let out a sigh. Might as well get straight to it. “Would you like to go first?”

"Alright…look," he begins, scrubbing a hand over his jaw. "I know things got a little out of hand last night. Firstly, I want to apologize for that. I didn’t mean to cross any boundaries with you…" he pauses momentarily, looking down at the table, taking a moment to steady himself before he looks back up at you.

"And secondly. I... I need to be honest with you. I love you. Like, romantically. I think you're beautiful, smart, kind. And honestly...I'm tired of hiding it. I’ve felt this way for a long time. And last night, it just felt like the right moment to tell you...to show you."

“I see…” you say, the weight of his confession is heavy. You can’t help but feel terrible. Here he was, taking accountability for his actions and being completely open with you... but you can’t lie to him about your feelings. And you didn’t want to string him along, it wouldn’t be right.

“Suguru, you’ve been one of my closest friends for a long time. I do love you, just not in the same way I think you feel about me… I’m sorry. I hope you understand.”

Suguru’s expression softens as he listens to your words, a mixture of acceptance and disappointment washing over him.

"Yeah... I kind of thought that might be your answer, " he admits, his voice soft. "I just..." he pauses, running a hand through his hair, "I guess I needed to tell you, to try and see if maybe..."

He trails off, unable to finish the sentence. The silent 'maybe you would feel the same' hangs between you two.

You reach for his hand across the table and look into his eyes. “I appreciate you telling me… and apology accepted. Sometimes people can get carried away when they’re drunk… call it, the heat of the moment,” you give him a soft smile. The words you speak pull at your heart a bit, as they are not only directed to him… but to yourself and your own actions.

"Yeah..." he responds quietly. "Heat of the moment." He laces his fingers through yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go.

The waiter interrupts as he approaches you both, asking if you are ready to order. Both Suguru and you attempt to shake off the lingering awkward atmosphere.

After the waiter leaves, Suguru looks back up at you suddenly with concern, his gaze searching your features. "But...does this change things? Does it change our friendship?"

“That’s the question I should be asking you. I’m okay with putting this behind us but you need to consider if you’re comfortable being around me Suguru… I’d really hate to cause you more heartache.”

He regards you for a moment, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Hey," he says gently, "You know me. I'm not one to let heartbreak keep me down."

There's a pause as he gathers his thoughts, his expression growing more serious. "As for being around you...I’d rather that not change. You're one of my best friends. I think we've been through too much together to let something like this come between us."

“You’re right,” you smile. “Our friendship can get us through this. Nothing will get between it.”

The waiter brings your food and you both dive into your plates eagerly. The atmosphere between you two slowly starts to feel more comfortable as you enjoy your meals, the food helping to lift your spirits. Suguru can see the color slowly returning to your face as you eat, the tension in your shoulders slowly relaxing. He glances at you every so often, studying your expression, and he can't help but notice the slight dark circles under your eyes, a clear sign of the stress and lack of sleep you've been experiencing lately.

“You’ve been looking pretty tired as of late,” he notes. “How was work today?”

You exhale, where to begin? While you’d like to confide in Suguru about Satoru, you want to be considerate of his feelings. You know you’ll have to tell him eventually, but that conversation would likely sting too much right now, so maybe it’s best to leave Satoru out for the time being.

“This pain in the ass hangover didn’t do me any favors,” you chuckle. “I’m a real idiot for taking you up on that drinking challenge.”

Suguru’s lips curl into a grin and he snickers, “Hey, I tried to warn you. When will you learn your lesson?”

“I know, I know. I’m just lucky that Nanami was assigned as my mission partner today, or I likely wouldn’t be sitting here with you. You should’ve seen the nasty curse that almost got me.”

The sound of his cutlery suddenly becomes quiet, you feel the atmosphere change instantly. You look up to see his face, hauntingly zoned out, a burning rage simmering under him. His usual calm expression hardens, his knuckles turning white as he grips his fork tightly.

"What... what do you mean a curse almost got you?" he finally asks, his voice strained as his words carry an eerie bite.

“It’s nothing really,” you say nonchalantly, a failed attempt to play it off.

"Right," he says sarcastically, a bitter edge to his voice. "It's nothing to worry about. Just another near-death experience. Just another day of risking our lives for people who don't even appreciate it. Just another day of putting ourselves on the line for those who would never do the same for us."

You halt the movement of your fork, frozen momentarily as you’re caught off guard from his sudden shift in attitude. “Suguru, it’s okay. Nanami saved me—”

“And what if Nanami wasn’t there,” he cuts you off, slamming his hands on the table, his volume rising. “It’s not fair that we have to risk ourselves for these damn non-sorcerers … these monkeys.”

There is a loud silence between you as his furrowed stare pierces into you. You’re left speechless, unsure what to say to him. He grips your hand and the violet hue in his iris’ appear to be void of everything. You don’t even recognize him.  

"They don't understand the sacrifices we make y/n," his words cold. "Yet we're the ones who bear the burden. We're the ones who have to risk our lives everyday just to keep them safe, and for what?”

You begin to feel a bit nervous as people’s wandering eyes peer to the scene unfolding amongst you both – murmurs echo throughout the restaurant. Suddenly, your waiter walks over, gripping his notepad under a tense grip in support. “Is everything oka—”

Before the waiter finishes his sentence, you watch blood splatter across Suguru’s cheek. You blink – did your eyes deceive you? Suguru just killed an innocent civilian. The waiter, who moments ago was speaking to you both, now lays motionless on the ground, blood pooling around his lifeless body. There is no denying it… right?

The once peaceful restaurant erupts into chaos, horrified gasps and screams filling the air as all eyes turn to look at Suguru, who remains perfectly calm. Civilians around you are running in panic as they try to get away from the scene of the crime.

Suguru simply sits there, his expression blank. There is no remorse in his eyes – only a cold emptiness. He raises a hand, wiping the blood from his cheek with his thumb, before finally speaking. "That was annoying... I despise monkeys."

Suguru's swift and violent act shocks you to the core, causing your heart to race with fear and disbelief. “Suguru…” you manage to finally mutter, your voice catching in your throat from fright.

He looks at you, his expression still hauntingly neutral, as if all he simply did was swat a fly away. "Yeah? What is it?"

“What… what did you just do?” you ask slowly, your voice quivering in fear.

Suguru regards you for a moment, his gaze calculating as he takes in your trembling voice and fearful expression. "I merely got rid of an annoyance," he replies coolly, his voice emotionless. "A mosquito that wouldn't leave me alone. Nothing more."

Reaching for his napkin, he dabs it against his cheek with a look of disgust as he cleans off the lingering remnants of blood left from the waiter. Was this the same person you were casually talking to moments ago? The same person who held you in his arms while you cried? No. Who is this person? Every fiber of your being is telling you to run, but you cannot move, frozen in fear.

“You know y/n. My last mission got me thinking.” He casually leans back in his seat, crossing his arms as he looks at you. “Wouldn’t it be better to live in a world of just sorcerers? If these monkeys didn’t exist, curses wouldn’t be born. We could finally be free.”

You watch him intently as he begins to lift himself from his seat. A fierce cursed spirit begins to manifest behind him whilst emitting blue flames. The blaze dances around him, a sinister aura. “I bet we could make this dream a reality. You... me and Satoru.”

The air around you feels tense and thick with the shock of Suguru's statement. His words hang there ominously, the coldness in his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

"That's a dangerous thing to say, Suguru," you whisper, your voice barely audible. "A very dangerous thing..."

"Imagine it," he continues, approaching closer to you. "A world where we are the only ones to walk amongst the living. No more weak, worthless monkeys to hold us back. Just the strong. Just us."

"And Satoru?... You think he would agree with you?" you rasp as Suguru stops in front of you, his gaze never leaving your face as he answers your question.

"Satoru..." he muses, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "He'll understand. It may take a bit of convincing, but he'll listen. He always does. He’s the most important piece – we need the strongest."

He reaches out, his hand gently caressing your cheek, his touch almost tender compared to his cold words. “He’ll come. Especially if you join. After all, he’s always been unable to say no to you.”

Your eyes expand as the realization hits you. Was Suguru using you as a tool? Your stomach spins. You’re not sure what to believe anymore – was his confession even real? What happened to this man standing in front of you, the man you once considered to be one of your dearest friends.

“Suguru…” you say, tears welling in your eyes. “You can’t do this.”

“Now y/n, don’t say that,” he muses, his voice eerily tantalizing. “After all, you’re my best friend. What was it you said earlier? Our friendship can get through this. Nothing will get between it.”

There's a hint of mockery in Suguru's tone as he repeats your words back to you. It's almost as if he's taunting you. He leans in closer, his hand moving from your cheek to your chin, tilting your face up to look at him more fully. His expression is cold and calculating, like a predator sizing up his prey.

"See? You said it yourself. Our friendship is unbreakable. That means you'll stand by me, no matter what. That means you'll listen, when I tell you something, right?"

You swallow hard and speak slowly, aware that the next words you utter will ultimately decide your fate. “I can’t, Suguru.”

“Can't?" Suguru repeats, his voice dropping to a cold whisper. He leans in closer, his eyes narrowing as he looks at you. "You can't? Or you won't?"

Your eyes flutter shut as you feel his breath dance on your face. You open them and stare deeply into the eyes you once thought were warm and filled with love. “I won’t kill innocent people Suguru.”

Suguru's face suddenly twists into a scowl, his voice is dangerously soft. “After everything we’ve been through, after I’ve trusted you with my deepest secrets, my most intimate thoughts...and you still say no?” His hand drops from your face as he takes a step back. The coldness in his gaze becomes more intense as his eyes narrow. “It’s a shame really. I always cared for you. How…disappointing.”

Chaos erupts as the cursed spirit behind Suguru lets out a screeching roar. The blue flame expands, engulfing the village, casting a hell-bent inferno over everything. The air is thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burning wood. Screams and cries echo in the air as people run in panic – they search for any salvation as they desperately attempt to flee the hungry flames devouring them.

You are locked in a vicious battle with Suguru, your bodies moving like blurs amidst the carnage and destruction around you. The once peaceful village becomes decimated before you. Buildings are reduced to nothing more than smoldering ruins, the putrid stench of death.

Suguru shows no mercy, his strength and power overwhelming. But despite his ruthless force, he intentionally chooses to leave you alive, though badly beaten and injured. As the smoke and flames of the battle clear, you find yourself lying on the ground, barely conscious. You open your eyes to see Suguru standing over you, his expression cold and void.

"I truly wish it hadn't come to this," he mutters to himself. “If you change your mind… come find me.”

Your vision begins to falter, and you can barely make out the figure walking away from you, but you know without a doubt it’s Suguru. He leaves you there, alone and helpless.

Fumbling for your phone with what little strength you have left, you try multiple times to unlock it, hitting the incorrect digits over and over again while desperately trying to remain conscious. You finally get past your home screen, and you click through your contacts. There is only one person who comes to your mind – one person for you to reach out to. As you tap Satoru’s name, you use every last bit of energy you have to send him your current location – nothing else.

The world around you goes dark, and you slip into unconsciousness.

✧ thanks for reading! part two will have fluff :') taglist is open

taglist: @haychhans @mysticnozel @luvrsbian