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Your apartment pool could never.

Thankfully, Satoru was willing to lounge around on floaties with you, his presence comforting despite his tendency to be annoying about fifty percent of the time. The other fifty percent makes it worth it, and today, that fifty percent is in full effect.

The sun beams down towards you, warming your backside as you lie flat on the clear inflatable that Satoru insists is "the superior floatie" because it lets you see the water beneath you.

Not that there's much to see besides the occasional leaf or the faint shimmer of the pool's blue iridescent tiles, but he seems to take great pride in his floatie collection.

Occasionally, Satoru will push your floatie towards the waterfalls that cascade into the pool, claiming he's just "helping you cool off" before splashing your hair to get it wet.

He tricked you once, claiming he was improving the angle so you could tan better, his voice full of faux sincerity—which you naively believed— only for cold, hard water to be dumped on your face from the waterfall.

You should have seen it coming from a mile away. His laugh echoed across the pool, and you craved revenge, but the free pool was too good to give up, so you let it slide. For now.

Anything for the free pool.

You could hear the water splashing as Satoru swam, his movements creating gentle ripples that disturbed your peaceful float.

Your floatie shifted, your body being pulled away from your perfect tanning spot, catching the optimal amount of rays without frying you to a crisp.

"Satoru, swear to god, if I feel a single drop of water, you're dead," you warned, lifting your head and pulling the sunglasses over your eyes so you weren't blinded by the sun.

"You're so scary," he laughed, elbows resting on the edge of your inflatable, his chin propped up on his arms. "You want a bomb pop?" he asked lightly. His tongue was already dyed purple, a telltale sign he seemed to have indulged himself in one already while you were busy sunbathing.

You were craving something sweet, your mouth watering at the thought of that icy, sugary goodness, so this was perfect timing.

His hair was tousled and wet with water, the white strands darkened to a soft silver where they were soaked through, and his skin was even a little tanned from the sun, a rare sight that made him look like a surfer from California.

The contrast was pretty on his white hair and cerulean eyes. You hummed, nodding your head, "Pull me back."

Obliging, Satoru pulled you with him to the pool's edge, his hands gripping the sides of your floatie with surprising care. Your floatie had traveled quite the distance across his expansive pool, and as you moved, you took in the sheer scale of his pool deck.

His home was beautiful; your own family's wealth wasn't anything to laugh at, but Gojo's was on a different planet entirely. He even had his own golf course named after him back home, a fact he brought up too casually.

You would jokingly call his family the Crazy Rich Gojo's when you found out how wealthy he was.

Your pool at home was nice, sure, but Satoru's was pretty damn close—if not better. The carefully curated landscaping that surrounded it, the infinity edge that made it look like the water went on forever. It was picturesque, residing in someone's dream home pinterest board.

Rolling over, you let the coolness of the floaty cool the warm skin on your back, the plastic slightly sticky from the heat but still refreshing. It felt nice, relaxing you further onto the floatie as you surrendered to the heat.

You kept your hand pressed to the ledge so you wouldn't float away again, your fingers gripping the edge.

You watched as Satoru climbed out of the pool, his body dripping wet from the chlorinated water, droplets cascading down his back in rivulets that caught the light. Even though you were in the deeper end, he didn't need to take the ladder; the pros of being tall meant he could just hoist himself up like it was nothing, muscles flexing with the effort.

It took a minute for him to come back with your sweet relief, his footsteps padding against the stone tiles as he made his way to the outdoor fridge. He carefully unwrapped the red, white, and blue bomb pop, holding two others in his hand.

Crouching down in front of you, his strong calves bending towards you, he waved the cold treat over your lips, the cool air touching your lips ever so slightly. You reached out to snatch it away, your fingers grazing the white wrapper, but he happened to be faster, pulling it back with a grin.

Holding the popsicle in the air, his arms reached higher than where you could grab it comfortably, his height advantage making this game incredibly unfair. He waved it back and forth, and you felt that familiar irritation prickle at your skin once again.

"Satoru, stop," you groaned, sitting up from the floatie to take it out of his hand, the movement causing water to slosh around you. You were planning on playing nice with him today, being the bigger person and all that, but he always found a way to scratch your nerves, pulling them taut until you snapped. Nevertheless, you enjoyed his company.

Knowing Satoru since your freshman year, through friends of friends who had somehow dragged both of you to the same party, you happened to become friends with Satoru; it felt practically inevitable.

When you first met him, you thought he was an egotistical prick. But the more you got to know him, the more you realized he wasn't that bad. He was there for you during breakups, letting you cry on his shoulders while he fed you ice cream and told you that your ex was "a shit loser anyway."

He was there for rough hangovers, making you drink water and bone broth even when you insisted you would die if you moved. He was there for late-night drives, windows down, music blasting, the two of you screaming lyrics at the top of your lungs like you were the only people on the quiet streets. The plentiful noise complaints proved you definitely weren't.

And you were there for him, even when he drunkenly threw up on your vintage Kelly, a bag you had gotten for your sixteenth birthday—She will be missed. He ended up buying you two more as an apology, one in the original color and one in a shade that matched your eyes, but still, Satoru was a great friend.

Even if the lines are blurred in the friend portion.

"Satoru, stop!" he mocked in a high-pitched voice, his impression of you absolutely terrible. You definitely didn't sound like that, and you snatched the already melting popsicle from his hands before he could pull it away again.

Your tongue hurriedly reached out to lick the melted juices, the sweet flavor exploding on your taste buds as you started from the base to the top, not wanting to waste a single drop. The UV was making it melt faster, so you took a bite out of the tip, crunching through the icy layers. Might as well eat it before the sun does first, you thought, chewing happily.

You hadn't noticed Satoru's gaze as he watched, his eyes fixed on your mouth, wincing slightly as you bit the bomb pop with more force than necessary.

"Don't look at me like that, you're double-fisting bomb pops over there," you rolled your eyes, lifting your glasses to the top of your head to get a better look at his face. His face was crunched up with a look of amusement.

"You're the freaky one," he mused, licking both of the popsicles at the same time, his tongue darting out to catch the melting drips with practiced ease.

You were tempted to bring up the time you found him and Suguru passed out on his bed with two other girls, a scene that had been burned into your memory forever, but you decided to let it slide. But you're the freaky one, right..

"Whatever," you said instead of bringing up his freak escapades, taking another bite of your bomb pop. You wouldn't let Satoru live that one down, but you'll live past his greed, saving that ammunition for a later date when you really need to win an argument.

"I feel bad for any of your victims," he said, his eyebrows furrowed in mock sadness, kissing up to the sky like he was praying for the souls of your hypothetical head receivers.

He sat down on the ledge, his legs dangling into the water, the ripples spreading outward from his movements.

"Luckily, there are none," you said, the words coming out louder than you intended.

He paused dramatically, his entire body freezing as he stared at your face to see if you were serious. Realizing you weren't lying, a smirk twitched at his lips, one that usually preceded with more irritating and unnecessary comments.

Much to the dismay of your many hookups, you had never given head before. Too nervous to mess up and bite someone's appendage off, you never tried. It was a confession you rarely made, one that usually got you a mix of shock and pity, but with Satoru, it felt different.

"Not even-" he started until you shook your head firmly, cutting him off. He thought for a second, his expression contemplative, before asking, "You want to practice?"

It's not like you haven't tried to practice before, using fruit and various objects in an attempt to gain some semblance of skill, but a banana is much different than a real dick. The texture, the shape, the way it moves—or lack thereof. It's just not the same.

You stared at him momentarily, thinking about his offer, your brain running through all the possible outcomes. It's not like neither of you had crossed lines before; you're the one who taught him how to make out with someone after he claimed he didn't know how.

A claim you still weren't sure was true or just an elaborate excuse to get you to kiss him.

Once, led to twice, and whenever either of you was feeling lonely enough, your lips would find his. It was convenient, and a line you had long since stopped pretending existed.

This wasn't much different, right?

"You'd really show me?" you questioned hesitantly. If you wanted to practice on a real person, you might as well do it with Satoru. He nodded, leaning closer to the edge, looking down towards you. His gaze was almost eager, excited maybe.

"Of course, I mean, what are friends for, right?" he tilted his head slightly, the sun catching the water droplets in his hair. He looked pretty, glittery even. "The same way you were eating that, just less biting, more sucking, and inside action." You nodded, taking in what he said patiently.

Lifting from your floatie, you climbed onto the sun-warm pool deck. Swallowing the rest of the bomb pop, you sat next to Satoru, ready on the ledge, your eyes hinting at the lounge chairs. He stared at you for a moment. "Oh- I see, yeah, over there m-might be better," he stuttered, getting up to go to the chairs.

He sat down on the much cooler chairs, shaded by the umbrellas from the sun. "Do I sit here?" You knelt on the pool deck's smooth concrete, your body kneeling between his spread legs.

He looked down at you, confused and partially nervous. "Don't tell me you're getting nervous about me, Satoru," you teased, laying your head on his knee.

"N-nervous? No, I was just… surprised," he muttered, clearing his throat, "Didn't think you meant practice on me." he paused for a moment, his empty hand carding through his hair.

"Not that I am opposed, practice makes perfect, you know?" he smiled, licking the remainder of his bomb pop.

"You expected me to practice on a bomb pop?" you chuckled. "I need to practice on something real," you sighed. By the hardness growing in Satoru's swim shorts, he definitely didn't seem opposed.

"Why? Tried before?" he half-joked, but you only glared at him; he didn't need to hear how you embarrassingly choked on a banana after it broke in your throat. "Well, first, you need to set the tone; it's better if the little guy is awake first," he instructed, handing you a pillow.

"Doesn't seem like you need any help with that," you murmured, getting more comfortable on the pillow.

"What can I say, I'm a healthy guy," he commented nonchalantly, the pink tinging his ears telling a different story. "You want to take it out," you followed, your hands nervously pulling at his trunks.

His breath hitched the second your fingers brushed against the waistband of his swim trunks, the fabric damp from the pool water he'd been lounging in moments before.

The bomb pop had long since melted down his hand, sticky sweetness dripping onto his knuckles, but he made no move to clean it off. His focus was entirely on you.

"There you go," he murmured, voice dropping as he lifted his hips just enough for you to tug the trunks down his thighs. His cock sprang free, already half-hard and flushed pink at the tip, curving slightly to the left. A bead of pre-cum glistened at the slit, catching the sunlight like a tiny pearl.

"Very healthy guy," you joked, trying to distract yourself from being too nervous. You swallowed, staring at it with wide eyes. It was big. Thick and long, veined and heavy, resting against his lower stomach with an almost casual weight.

Not really what would be your first as a beginner. You wouldn't boost his ego any further, or he might explode.

Your hand hovered over it, fingers trembling slightly, and Satoru's lips curled into that familiar smirk. "Don't just admire it, babe," he teased, reaching down to wrap his sticky fingers around yours, guiding your palm to wrap around his shaft. The heat of him seared against your skin, velvety smooth over rigid hardness. "You gotta touch it. Get familiar with it. Not gonna bite."

"Says you," you mumbled, but your fingers tightened experimentally, and his breath caught in his throat, a tiny, almost imperceptible hitch that made your confidence bloom.

"Start slow," he instructed, his voice a little rougher now, the playful edge sharpening. "Just... wrap your hand around it. Feel the weight. Get it, wet, get a rhythm going. Don't just-" You nodded, spitting onto the tip. You stroked him, once, clumsily, your grip too tight and your angle wrong. He winced, but the sound that escaped him wasn't entirely pained.

"Okay, okay," he laughed breathlessly, his head falling back against the lounge chair. "That's-that's a start. But loosen up. It's not a weapon, alright? Gentle. Like you're holding a baby bird."

"I've held birds; this does not feel like a bird," you shot back, but you adjusted, lightening your grip, letting your fingers slide down to his base and then back up. His hips twitched involuntarily, and you grinned at the reaction.

"There you go," he breathed, his hand coming up to card through his wet white hair, pushing it back from his forehead, his gaze making you even hotter. "Now, use your mouth. Just the tip, first. Get used to it."

You leaned forward, pressing a tentative kiss to the head of his cock. He tasted salty, like chlorine and sweat, and you found yourself licking your lips before you even realized what you were doing.

"Don't overthink it," he murmured, his hand dropping to rest gently on the back of your head, not pushing, just there. "Just take it slow. Let it- ah-"

You parted your lips and took him in, just the head at first, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridge. His hips buckled up involuntarily, and you gagged, pulling off with a wet pop.

"Sorry, sorry," he panted, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink beneath the shade. "Fuck, you just-your mouth is really cold, okay? Give a guy some warning."

"Maybe you should give me some warning," you snorted.

"Fair enough," he conceded, "How about this, you get back down there, and I'll return the favor. Make it fair."

"Fair?" you echoed, your hand still wrapped around him, feeling the steady pulse of his heartbeat through the velvety skin. "You think you can keep quiet while I'm down here?"

Satoru's laugh was low, almost a purr, as he settled back into the lounge chair. His white lashes fluttered half-closed, those piercing blue eyes watching you through the slits. "I've kept quiet through worse."

Your thumb traced the ridge of his tip, spreading the glistening bead of pre-cum across the sensitive skin. His stomach muscles flinched, and you felt a surge of power at the small reaction. "Yeah, sure."

"Attagirl," he breathed, one large hand coming to rest on the back of your head again. His fingers resting gently in your hair. "Now, take a breath. Relax your jaw. You're thinking too much."

"How do you-"

"You're clenching your teeth," he interrupted, "I can feel it." You exhaled slowly, forcing your shoulders to drop, and leaned forward again. This time, when you took him into your mouth, you focused on the weight of him on your tongue. Your lips stretched around the head, and you hollowed your cheeks experimentally.

"Fuck," Satoru hissed, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Yeah, that's-that's good. Just like that. Don't try to take it all at once. Work your tongue."

You obeyed, swirling your tongue around the sensitive underside of his tip, tracing the little vein that ran along his shaft. His hips twitched again, but he held himself still, letting you explore at your own pace. His hand stayed heavy on your head, occasionally stroking your hair in a way that felt almost encouraging.

"Breathe through your nose," he instructed, his voice growing rougher. "And, mmngh- use your hand on what you can't fit in your mouth. Make it part of the same rhythm."

You pulled off with a wet sound, a string of saliva connecting your bottom lip to his flushed tip. "You're a lot better than a tiktok video."

Satoru's laugh was breathless, his chest heaving. "What am I not good at? Now get back down here before I get lonely." You rolled your eyes but complied, taking him back into your mouth with renewed determination. You wrapped your hand around the base and pumped in time with your bobbing head.

The angle was awkward, your neck starting to ache, but the way Satoru's breath hitched every time you took him deeper made it worth it.

"Sloppy," he murmured, his thumb stroking the shell of your ear. "Get sloppy. Use more spit. You're not trying to make it pretty, you're trying to make me come." You pulled off just long enough to gather a generous amount of saliva in your mouth, letting it drool down your chin and onto his shaft. The sight of it, the way his cock glistened in the dappled sunlight, made something hot curl in your belly.

You licked a stripe up the underside, from base to tip, and Satoru groaned, deep and guttural. You were starting to understand when your friends would remark that their mouths were watering.

"Fuck, okay, okay," he panted, his composure finally cracking. "You're a fast learner. That's—yeah, right there-"

You took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, pushing past the resistance in your throat. Your eyes watered, but you forced yourself to relax, just like he'd said. You focused on the sounds he was making: the broken moans, the way his breath stuttered, and the feedback loop of pleasure and power it created.

"That's it, baby," he crooned, his voice dropping into something silkier. "That's my good girl. Taking me so well, you're a natural, shit-" His hips bucked upward, and you gagged, pulling off with a cough. Saliva dripped down your chin, and you wiped at it with the back of your hand, glaring at him through watery eyes.

"Warning?" you croaked.

"Sorry, sorry," he panted, but he wasn't sorry at all. The smug look on his face was a dead giveaway, even as his chest heaved and his flush spread down to his collarbones. "You just got me excited."

"Asshole," you muttered, but you were already leaning back in, licking a slow, teasing stripe across his tip.

Satoru's hand tightened in your hair. "Watch your mouth, princess. Or I'll make you." The challenge in his voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You took him back into your mouth, sinking farther than before, feeling him hit the back of your throat. You held there for a moment, breathing through your nose, before pulling back and repeating the motion.

"That's it," he groaned, and his control was sliding, melting away with each bob of your head. "Just like that. You're doing so good, so good for me-" His grip tightened, guiding your pace faster, and you let him. You wanted this, wanted to push him over the edge, wanted to taste the proof of your progress.

His cock twitched in your mouth, opening your throat to take him deeper. "Fuuck-" he moaned loudly. He motioned for you to pull off, but you kept your head still. His seed sputtered onto your tongue. You held there for a moment as he caught his breath above you.

His cum didn't taste horrible, just foreign, a bit salty. Nevertheless, you swallowed. Wiping the outside of your mouth of spit.

"Did I do well?" You asked slowly, pulling his cock from your mouth.

"You- yeah, you did great," he breathed. Tossing the melted popsicle into the trash, licking his hand clean of the popsicle. "Since you did so well, let's make it fair."

Before you could ask what he meant, he was shifting, grabbing you by the hips and manhandling you with surprising strength, flipping you around until you were positioned over him, your knees on either side of his head, your face hovering above his already hard cock.

"Pretty skilled here too," he announced cheerfully, his voice muffled by the fact that he was already pressing his mouth to the inside of your thigh. "Best way to learn. You get to focus on your technique while I keep you...distracted."

"Distracted?" you squeaked, but the word dissolved into a moan as his tongue licked a broad stripe up your slit, through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms. He hooked a finger under the material, pulling it aside, and the first real taste of you seemed to make him groan.

"Shit," he breathed against your cunt, his nose nudging your clit. "You taste better than those bomb pops."

"Focus, Satoru," you managed, your voice shaky as you lowered your head back down to his cock. "You're supposed to be teaching me."

"Right, right," he chuckled, the vibration of his laughter against your pussy making you jolt. "Then get to work, pretty girl. And remember-"He licked into you, slow and deliberate, "-tongue's your best friend. Use it."

You moaned, the sound vibrating around his shaft, and he groaned in response, his hips twitching up to meet your mouth.

You tried to remember his instructions: gentle, start slow, don't overthink it. It was hard when his tongue was doing that, curling inside you, tasting every inch of your slick heat.

"You're-" you gasped, pulling off his cock for a breath, "-you're not making this easy."

"Not supposed to be easy," he murmured against your folds, his lips brushing your clit with each word. "Supposed to be fun."

His thumb found your clit, rubbing lazy circles while his tongue dipped back inside you, and you cried out, your hips grinding down against his face without your permission.

He let out a pleased hum, his free hand coming up to grip your ass, squeezing the flesh hard enough to leave marks.

"That's it," he encouraged, his voice a low rumble. "Use those pretty hips. Ride my face." You took him back into your mouth, deeper this time, your head bobbing in a clumsy rhythm.

Your teeth scraped against him, and he hissed sharply. "Teeth, angel," he reminded you, his voice strained. "No teeth. Just lips and tongue."

You sucked hard, and his hips bucked, pushing himself deeper into your throat. You gagged, tears pricking at your eyes, but you didn't pull off. You were determined. "Good," he praised, his voice dripping with approval. "That's my girl. Taking it like a pro."

His tongue speared into you, and you moaned around his cock, the vibration making him shudder beneath you. His grip on your ass tightened, his hips thrusting up into your mouth in shallow, desperate little movements.

"Just like that," he breathed, his words muffled by your pussy. "Fuck, you're so beautiful. Suck it- yeah, just like that." You were drooling, strings of saliva connecting your lips to his shaft, your jaw aching, but you didn't care.

He pulled his mouth away from you for just a moment, his breath hot against your slick folds. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Gonna make me cum again if you keep that up-" You doubled your efforts, taking him deeper, your hand pumping what your mouth couldn't reach. His hips bucked erratically, his fingers digging into your ass, his whole body tensing beneath you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck-"

He came with a choked cry, hot and thick down your throat, and you swallowed instinctively. He kept twitching in your mouth, his hips still jerking as you milked him through it, not pulling off until he went limp beneath you.

Although he had just come, he didn't let off. His moans vibrated against your cunt, pulling you closer and closer.

You barely had a moment to catch your breath before Satoru's tongue was back on you, lapping at your dripping folds like a man starved. His grip on your ass tightened, spreading you wider, and you felt the cool air against your slick skin before his mouth descended again.

"F-fuck, Satoru-" you gasped, your forehead dropping against his thigh. His cock was starting to grow half-hard beneath you, twitching against your cheek, and you could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through the velvet skin.

His tongue circled your clit, slow and deliberate, and your hips stuttered against his face. He laughed, the sound vibrating through you. "You're so responsive," he breathed, pulling back just enough to speak. "I can feel every little noise you make-" He licked a broad stripe up your slit. "-Don't think I can stop after this."

You cried out, your hips grinding down against his face without permission, and he groaned in approval. His hands gripped your ass harder, pulling you closer, and you could feel the wet sounds of his mouth against you; it was obscene. "'Toru-" you gasped, your hand tightening around his thighs.

His thumb found your clit, rubbing tight circles while his tongue plunged back inside you, and you shattered. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, your body convulsing above him, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

You could feel him smiling against you, his tongue still working you through it, drawing out every last tremor.

"That's it," he cooed, his voice soft, almost tender. "That's my girl. Let go for me."

Your hips rocked against his face involuntarily, riding out the aftershocks, and he let you take what you needed. When you finally stilled, trembling and breathless, he pressed one last kiss to your clit before gently nudging you off him.

"Okay?" he asked, sitting up to wrap his arms around you. His voice was rough, but his eyes were soft as he looked at you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"Yeah," you managed, your voice hoarse. Turning towards him, you positioned your body over his lap. Your hips were still trembling from the aftershocks as you settled over his lap, the wet heat of your cunt sliding along the thick length of him. Satoru's hands found your waist immediately, fingers digging into the soft flesh there like he was grounding himself. His chest was heaving beneath you, that stupidly pretty face.

His grip on your waist tightens the moment you settle over him, fingers pressing bruises into your skin before he's even inside you. "Fuck," he breathes, the word coming out almost reverent. "You're gonna kill me, you know that?"

You don't answer with words, just roll your hips forward, letting the slick heat of your cunt drag along the underside of his cock. The sensation makes him hiss through his teeth, his head falling back against the lounge chair.

"Look at you," he murmurs, one hand leaving your waist to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His thumb traces along your bottom lip, and you part your mouth instinctively, tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his skin. He groans.

"So fuckin' eager. That mouth of yours-" He cuts himself off with a sharp inhale as you sink down, just the tip, just enough to make him see stars. "Shit, baby. Don't tease."

"Thought you wanted me to take what I needed," you counter, voice breathy but carrying an edge of defiance. You lift your hips again, letting him slip out, watching the way his jaw tightens. "You said I could-"

"Sassy," he cuts you off, but there's a grin splitting his face, all teeth and mischief. His hands find your hips again, and this time he doesn't ask; he just guides you down, slow and steady, watching your face as he fills you inch by inch.

Your breath catches in your throat, fingers curling into his shoulders. The stretch is obscene, almost too much, but you take it, sinking down until you're flush against him, his cock buried to the hilt.

You moaned, feeling every ridge and vein of him inside you. Your hips start to move on their own, small, experimental circles that make him groan low in his chest.

His eyes flutter shut for a moment, and you take the opportunity to lean in, pressing your lips to the corner of his mouth. "Thank you," you murmur against his skin, and his eyes snap open. "Satoru-"

"Don't." His grip on your hips is almost bruising now. "Don't thank me, not when you're-" He bucks his hips up, just once, and the sudden jolt steals the breath from your lungs. "Not when you're doing this."

You laugh, breathless, and it dissolves into a moan as you start to move in earnest. Up and down, slow and deep, letting him watch the way your body takes him. His eyes are glued to where you're joined, watching the way your cunt glistens around his cock with every slide.

His thumbs trace patterns into your hips, not guiding, just feeling— like he can't get enough of the way your skin feels under his palms.

"Faster," he says after a moment. His voice is thick, almost strained, and there's a flush creeping up his neck. "Come on, pretty girl."

You raise an eyebrow, even as you pick up the pace. "What, you want me to-"

"I want you to ride me like you mean it." His hand comes down on your ass, sharp and sudden, and you jolt forward, a squeak escaping your throat. He grins, satisfied. "That's more like it. Now come on. Don't make me ask again."

You plant your hands on his chest, feeling the firm muscle beneath your palms, and you move. Hips rolling, thighs burning, you find a rhythm that has both of you gasping.

His head falls back again, his hands gripping your waist as you might disappear, and you feel it, the way his breathing quickens, his hips start to meet your thrusts with increasing urgency.

"Yeah," he breathes, and his voice is ragged now, all pretense of control gone. "Just like that. Fuck, baby, you feel so good-"

You lean down, pressing your forehead to his, your breath mingling. The position changes the angle, and you feel him hit something deep inside you that makes your vision white out for a second. Your nails dig into his chest, and he groans, snapping his hips up harder.

"Right there," you gasp, and he grins, that infuriatingly beautiful grin, because he knows. He knows exactly where you need him, and he's gonna give it to you. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers finding your clit with practiced precision, and you cry out, your rhythm faltering.

"Don't stop," he commands, and his voice is a low growl now. "Don't you fucking stop, baby. You're so close, I can feel it. Just let go."

You're shaking, trembling, every muscle in your body tense as he works you higher and higher. He's watching your face, eyes dark and hungry, like he's memorizing every expression you make." 'Toru," you gasp, "I can't-"

"Yes, you can." His fingers on your clit are relentless, his hips driving up into you with a pace that's almost punishing. "You're gonna cum for me, aren't you? Gonna soak my cock like the good girl you are."

The words break you. Your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, your whole body seizing as you cry out his name. Your walls clenched around him, milking him, and he groaned, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge.

You feel the heat of him filling you, pulse after pulse, and the sensation sends another ripple of pleasure through your oversensitive body.

When you come back to yourself, you're collapsed against his chest, his arms wrapped around you like you're something precious. His heart is pounding against your ear, and you can feel his breath ruffling your hair.

"Fuck," he murmurs, and his voice is soft now, almost sleepy. "That was-"

"Stop talking," you mumble against his skin, but you're smiling. "You'll ruin the moment."

He laughs, and it's warm, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours. "I just saved some lucky guy from getting his dick cut off, thanks to me." Smugness filling his tone.

You smacked his chest, playfully, your palm connecting with his pectoral in a light thump. "I would not do that," you rolled your eyes, but your hand stayed resting on his chest, your fingers splayed across the firm muscle.

It was soft, the skin warm and slightly damp, and you didn't feel like moving it. He didn't mind either, his fingers finding the strings of your bikini top and toying with them absently, twisting and untwisting the fabric.

"Let me use your shower. I feel disgusting," you groaned, the words muffled against his skin.

The chlorine and sweat had dried on your body, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable, your skin tight and pulling with every movement. The heat didn't make it any better, the sun still bearing down even as the afternoon wore on.

He nodded, his chin brushing against the top of your head as he played with strands of your hair, twirling them around his finger.

You missed his shower; the water pressure was perfect, hitting your shoulders with just the right amount of force.

You'd even set up the same one in your own apartment after the first time you used it, but it never quite felt the same. You were staying the night here anyway, not like Satoru was going to say no. He never did.

"Sure, what are friends for, right?"

​

ᯓ chapter index★

1 crush crush crush

three weeks of exams. all it takes is one night of karaoke and cheap beer to remind you why you love your friends. yuji's apartment is the obvious choice for an afterparty, until his older brother walks in looking like he stepped out of your wildest wet dreams.

2 two pumps

you're supposed to be studying. instead, you're staring at a blank google doc and thinking about a certain mechanic's meaty forearms and how they'd look on either side of your head. but on this fated, rainy day, your wish ends up being heard. kind of.

3 friends of friends

yuji asks you to come over while you get ready for a night out. as luck would have it, you're instead coerced into meeting your crush's entire friend group and pretend like you're not boiling on the inside. except maybe that's exactly how sukuna likes you.

4 superswiped!

your beloved car, mugi, starts acting up and yuji offers his brother's mechanical services for free. you spend the drive to the garage convinced you're not already wet, and failing spectacularly. who knew the smell of engine grease could get you so turned on?

5 accept only necessary

during a quiet night of self-care, you find his instagram account. one thing leads to another, and you're eventually caught in an awkward, thigh-clenching situation with none other than the man you've been stalking.

6 kirin ichiban

a night out with your friends ends the way it always does: you're stranded, yuji's drunk, and you're both desperately trying to find a way home. when sukuna offers a ride, you tell yourself it's just logistics. until he demands something unexpected.

7 santo sativa

you come to their place looking for a lost book. it's a lie, a bad one, and it shouldn't work. but when you get there and yuji ends up being out of the house, you take the opportunity to try and get closer to his older brother.

8 ready, set, ignition NEW!

your car is finally ready. that's the official reason you're standing in sukuna's garage, wearing a skirt so short nobara had to physically restrain you from changing into something more practical. but you'd feel so bad making him work for free.

ᯓ upcoming★

nanami walks towards the kitchen, long legs taking him forward unfairly fast. when his gaze lands on your mess, he doesn't shout, doesn't order you out or fire you on the spot.

he pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. "clean this up before i fire you" is all he says

"y-yes sir!"

crisis averted, phew. you get to wiping the counters off immediately.

he lingers in the background, steel gaze nearly pinning you in place. that's the thing about him that always has your heart beating twice as fast; he speaks in few words, always curt, yet his actions suggest there's something more.

goodbye kitty is discarded along with the last bits of your ego. just as you're about to swipe flour down the drain, nanami lunges over grips your hand. hard.

"what have i told you about that, hm?"

within seconds, his face is uncomfortably close to yours. there's always some distance between you. now you're face to face, so close you can feel his body heat.

you freeze, pinned in place by his eyes. "uh, to not do it?"

he huffs a real sigh. "disposing of flour or batter in the drain clogs it. don't do it again, understand me?"

you gulp loudly. a meek "yes sir," is all you can muster.

he lets go of your wrist, tossing it into your chest. he leaves in silence, probably going to record inventory.

left to clean alone, you're finally free to process what just happened. after much thought, you come to three truths: one, it's a miracle that you weren't fired. two, cleaning this mess definitely isn't going onto your paycheck, and three, there's a new feeling bubbling up in your chest.

something you've ignored since you first saw him. vulnerable, new, totally inappropriate.

could it be... love?

you shake your head at that. there's no way you're falling in love with your boss more than you already have.

OOPSIES: KAREN KATASTROPHE!

you're currently doing your best to dissociate and act like the women in front of you screaming her head off doesn't exist. maybe you should've quit last saturday.

"i already told you, i want my lemon squares HOT!" she shouts, jabbing a finger at you. the only thing hot is her breath, but you can't say that unless you want to be fired for real this time.

you take a deep breath, pinching the bridge of your nose before speaking (a habit you've picked up from nanami) "ma'am, the lemon squares are served cold. it says that on the menu," you deadpan.

she ignores you for the umpteenth time, saying "no it didn't," as if you both aren't staring at the same thing.

the other patrons are silently watching the affair, some taking their phones out and recording. this is incredibly embarrassing for you, not knowing whether to kick her out or endure this verbal barrage.

unfortunately, you're pulled out of your thinking by a ghoulish hand waving in your face. "where's your manager?!"

"right here."

the new voice is too solid to belong to the karen in front of you. you look to the source of it. it's nanami, stoic as ever. his face is a brick wall, expression unreadable. "what do you need, ma'am?" he remains professional though his voice lacks any warmth.

"well, i-uh, the lemons," she stammers on. the entire time nanami is staring into her soul. while patrons are quietly giggling (yourself included), it's clear he finds no amusement in this.

"look, ma'am," he interrupts, "i'm going to politely ask you to leave because you've disrespected my employee and our establishment."

flames ignite behind her eyes. "whatever! i am never eating here again!"

she turns on her heel, nearly tripping as she storms out the shop. "you forgot your lemon squares," nanami shouts behind her. you stifle a snort, as well as everybody else inside.

she comes back for them in shame. just as you think the threat is gone, she grumbles a curse towards a patron unlucky enough to be in her path.

"and don't come back," he finishes.

he goes around the shop apologizing to every customer, even giving them the shop's signature baguette. once the commotion dies down, he circles back to you.

"you handled that well."

"oh, thank you." his words are more shocking than what just happened. in the one and a half months you've worked here, the nicest thing he's said to you is how formal the font of your resume was.

"if someone bothers you again, tell me immediately." his voice drops, eyes glinting with something dark, possessive.

your cheeks warm, twiddling your fingers together. "of course, sir."

"no one disrespects my assistant or my establishment."

your heart breaks a little at that. you've been officially assistant-zoned!

later that day, you find some downtime by cleaning off spoons. the feeling comes back, warm and sticky in your chest. there it is, always creeping up on you when you're alone. it's planted itself inside you and there's no shaking it.

it's becoming easier and easier for nanami to fluster you, and it's purely accidental! but a small part of you hopes that it isn't.

OOPSIES: DISPLAY DISASTER!

one good thing came out of the karen situation: nana-pan has become a tourist attraction! videos of nanami's reserved reaction went viral, resulting in three times the usual amount of customers. he prefers the quiet vibe of the shop, but business is business.

he still doesn't break a sweat despite the increased workload, his only complaint being people asking for free baguettes all the time.

contrarily, you're losing your mind trying to adapt. you've never done well under pressure, much less while on the job. people are asking for nonexistent items, nanami's number and everything under the sun.

the bakery is packed wall to wall every day. between greeting customers, cleaning, baking and managing your sanity, you haven't had a second of down time.

so, is it really that surprising when you destroy an entire display in seconds?

it was 6pm on a saturday, peak business hours. everyone was getting off work and desperate to order before everything sold out. nanami changed the main display to most popular items, one of which being a massive 30 inch baguette that stuck out on either side.

a terribly confused elderly woman was inquiring about eclairs. your first mistake was walking backwards in such a crowded room.

"our traditional french items are here," you said, gesturing to a sneeze guard chalk full of pastries.

your second mistake was turning around too fast. while you aimed for the front counter, fate had other plans. instead of the counter, you're greeted by the massive baguette. unfortunate event after another, someone trips and crashes into you. instinctively your eyes close, bracing for impact.

when you try to open them, you quickly realize you can't. rubbing your eyes furiously, you pull your hands back to see... frosting?

your entire body is covered in frosting, among bread crumbs and sprinkles. it looks like king candy chewed you up and spat you out.

the entire bakery is dead silent. all chewing, chatter and meandering has stopped. pastries are strewn across the floor, each more damaged than the last.

nanami walks in just in time to see the disaster. his stone cold expression is twisted up in confusion, mouth parted for silent words. every head in the room moves to him, following his every step. your heart is frozen at the sight of your boss. he's surely going to take you to the back and hand in your two weeks notice.

but he doesn't do that.

he strides over to you, takes your hand and carefully stands you up. "please continue eating," he says, talking to everyone else. "this will be cleaned up shortly."

he guides you to his office, not bothering to look back at the chaos you just caused.

when he opens a drawer, you assume he was getting your letter of termination. instead, he pulls out baby wipes and cleans your face off. he doesn't bother asking if you need help, just does it without asking of anything in return.

nanami has never been this close to you. (not like you'd let him, anyway) seeing the crease of his brow when he's focused up close, the respect he shares, you can't ignore how hot, how confused it's making you.

"what's this?"

"what's what?' he asks, voice unnaturally quiet.

"i mean, this... i dunno, kindness?"

for the first time ever, you hear nanami chuckle. not a snort, not a breath that could technically be considered a chuckle if you closed your eyes and jumped three times.

"aren't i always kind?"

if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was joking. "we must have very different views of kindness." pausing, you add "you can be a little rude" rather quietly.

a frown ghosts across his face, gone as fast as it came. "well, i don't mean to come off as rude." your irritated sigh isn't lost on him. he focuses on the baby wipe instead of your miffed expression.

you gently push his hand away, suddenly finding it unbearable. "so that's just how you act?"

he pauses, choosing his words carefully. "yes. i can come off rather impassive, but i never mean to."

that gets your heart beating again, but your walls are still up. "so this whole time, you've just been treating me like a regular person? that's what you're telling me?"

"would you like me to treat you as something more?" he arches a brow.

the room has suddenly shrunk two sizes and so have your clothes. perceptive as ever, he notices the way you shift in your seat, unable to hide the quirk of his lip. "cat's got your tongue, aye?"

you look away. "no, it's just that i thought you hated me this whole time."

his face scrunches into something unreadable. "hate you? what would make you think i hate you?"

that's the last straw. you can't control the word vomit that erupts from your sprinkle ridden mouth. "you treat me like a burden. i can't bake, can barely talk to customers and have probably cost you thousands of dollars in damages. i'm surprised you haven't gotten rid of me yet."

"...and you're kinda mean."

you say it simply enough that it's almost laughable, yet maybe that's what he needed to hear to understand. the weight of what you just admitted hangs in the air. it's between you and him, the crevices of your fingers, the complexities of your heart.

"look at me," he whispers, so tenderly that it's disorienting. "you may be very clumsy, and yes, you burn the most basic desserts, but that's just you. if i didn't like you, you wouldn't be sat here right now."

you can't begin to describe how that made you feel. giddy?— no, that's too energetic. blissful, grateful, contented. something intimate is the only way to describe his effect on you.

"you mean it?"

"i do. i mean," he chuckles, "it's my first time being a boss and your first time working at a bakery. we're still learning, right?"

"right." you're smiling before you even realize it. cheeks warmed by affection, it makes him smile too.

he finishes cleaning you off, stopping to eat a sprinkle off your face. once you're fully cleaned up and changed, you both go back to the main floor and clean up the display. a few people pitch in, some clearly doing it in hopes of a discount or free food.

shift officially over, nanami watches you leave, calling a 'safe travels' behind you.

when you started working at nana-pan a month ago, you didn't expect to be falling this hard— or fast— for your boss. you thought he was attractive when you applied, but nothing could've prepared you for such a debilitating crush.

on the walk home, you realize three facts: one, you've been cemented in history as the bakery assistant who fell on her ass and made an ass of herself. two, walking backwards in crowded rooms is never a good idea, and three,

you're definitely in love with nanami kento.

masterlist | @orangethecarrotcoloredpaperred

You should be chilling on this beautiful beach or by the pool in your childhood home in a bikini, sunglasses on your face with a big glass full of something strong. Or even attempting to surf a wave like you used to before you quit surfing for good. 

Not here in a lifeguard uniform with enough sunscreen on your body to coat an elephant, bored out of your mind and on the verge of insanity. You've been doing this for only two weeks now and you already want to quit. 

You thought that coming back to your old seaside town after a year in the city attending university would allow you the relaxation and decompression you needed before heading back in the fall to start your new semester...and officially becoming an adult. 

You didn't feel quite like an adult even after you graduated high school and went to college in a city far, far away from your little town by the shore. Precisely a train to the airport, a plane ride, and a taxi away. This school was at the top of your list when it came to biology, with their acclaimed (and expensive) science program and influx of internships. 

Since you were a little girl watching 'The Little Mermaid' and obsessing over the aquatic mammals at the aquarium, you've wanted to be a marine biologist. You've always been attracted to water, fish, and the big, beautiful sea. You carry a sea turtle plushie around (even to took it to college!) and own about five different shark figurines. 

Getting through your major was hard, especially in an unfamiliar place, but you and your parents knew that you had to spread your wings in order to succeed. Once you aced your exams and got a job after interning with an aquarium your freshmen year, it seemed like all the stress and rough days were worth it. 

Going to school away from home was the best decision you ever made, you believe. You've met so many people, explored so many places in the city, and did all the things your small town wouldn't allow, yet you never forgot about where you came from. 

So when the opportunity came to return home for the summer came, you took it...including this part-time job as a lifeguard. While it isn't ideal, the money is going towards student loans, books, and tuition. Plus the uniforms are cute: a red bathing suit reading 'Lifeguard' in white letters on the front, a whistle, and a hat. 

After being back in town for two weeks and being gone for a year, it seems like barely anything has changed. The only thing that has are the people. Shoko, your longtime friend and one of the lifeguards, has grown out her chestnut brown hair and cut down on smoking. Two more trainees, Yuji Itadori and Todo Aoi, have been hired to join the crew. 

There seems to be more kids and tourists surrounding the beach and boardwalk now, taking advantage of the sun and trinket shops. Your parents have gotten older, but still fuss over you and their beach house. The scent in the air is still the same breezy, sea-scented air you've always loved. 

But there is one person you haven't seen yet that you wonder will ever come back...and then you stop yourself. Why are you thinking about him? 

'He left before you finished high school,' you think to yourself, scoldingly. 'He isn't thinking about you, so why are you thinking about him? He's the reason you quit surfing!' 

Not just competitive surfing, but surfing period. Because every time you got on that board and tasted the saltwater, you were reminded of him. He sucked the freedom and joy out of it, not to mention made you feel incompatible with his skills. It became a competition with you two: who can surf the longest? Who can ride the biggest wave? 

Until he kissed you and left without ever saying goodbye or keeping in touch. After that, you quit for good. 

So you go back to your job of overlooking the beach, occasionally blowing on your whistle, and checking out the hot guys that the beach has to offer. Your hometown always had its studs, practically serving one up to you now: he is a tall, long-haired drink of water, his body practically built from granite stone. 

He has his back turned to you as he stands near the water, wiping down his board, so you can't see his face, but you notice the tattoos roping his arms and his back dimples. You peer at him behind your shades, glad to have a discreet hiding place high on top of your tower. 

You watch as the sexy stranger drags his board out into the water and slides onto it stomach-first, paddling into the sea. He passes by splashing kids and relaxing adults, swimming deeper and deeper into the water. You scowl in confusion at him as he passes the line, even as a big wave comes hurdling towards him. "What the hell is he doing?" you whisper to yourself. 

You lift your whistle to blow, but stop when the man stands up, his arms out and feet planted firmly on the surfboard. He then begins surfing the wave, doing so as if he has done this many times before. The sun glints in his long, black locks and against his toned body as he twists against the wave. Chasing it. Dancing with it. It's quite impressive. 

"Y/N!" someone calls. You snap out of your trance and look down to see Shoko in her uniform and sunglasses. "It's your break time. We can switch now." 

You sigh in relief, happy to have some time alone and get something to eat. But as you are gathering your beach bag, you hear a sudden scream. "Help!" someone wails. "Please someone help him! He's drowning!" 

"Surfer overboard!" another calls. "He's too far out! Can anybody swim?!" 

You snap your head towards the commotion at the same time as Shoko, both of you in savior mode thanks to your training. A small group of people have surrounded the shoreline where they look out at the surfboard currently being swept up by the waves. But no surfer. 

Quickly, you jump from the tower and land perfectly on the sand before dropping your bag and racing over to the crowd. "What happened?" you demand. They all looked relieved to see you. 

"He swam out too far, got hit with a wave, and fell off his board," one kid rushes to explain, clutching an inflatable donut to his chest. "We tried to throw a floatie at him, but he's too far!" 

You look out to where the surfer is currently, the water rippling being an indication of where he sunk. "Stay here," you order before ripping off your hat and gunning for the water. You blow your whistle three times-a sign that someone has drowned-and Shoko and the other lifeguards quickly get people away from the water. 

You have only saved about two people in your life since the beginning of your lifeguard position. This is the third time, but like the other times, your training comes rushing back to you, making you act quick. 

With your red 'Lifeguard' rescue tube strapped to your body, you dive into the water and begin to swim as fast as you can towards the surfer. You pop your head up every so often to breathe and make sure you're heading in the right direction, catching glimpses of the surfer's black hair. 

Your limbs burn the more you push yourself in the undercurrent that pushes back, but you continue to move, knowing that if you don't, this poor person will die. Luckily, you finally make it to him and manage to snatch his arm in the water. "Gotcha!" you grunt, pulling him towards you. 

You feel your heart jump at how deep the water is, the floor nowhere in sight, but you use your rescue tube for the both of you. You fling the surfer's arm over the tube while you do the same, the both of you now floating together with your other arm wrapped around his shoulders. 

The man sputters, his wet, black hair covering his face. You pat his back to get the rest of the water out, trying not to pay attention to his sexy neck and shoulder tattoos. "It's okay, sir," you pant. "Just breathe; I've got you." You push the man's hair back so he can breathe better. "Nothing is going to..." 

Your words die in your throat when you catch a glimpse of his very handsome, very familiar face. A face that you know all too well despite having not seen him three years. "Geto?!" you exclaim. 

Your old nemesis opens his eyes, his violet irises slightly unfocused. "Y/N?" he mumbles. "You..." His eyes flutter closed and his head lulls back before he can finish his sentence. 

Pushing away your shock at seeing him back in town, you quickly toss his other arm over your shoulder and begin to butterfly kick your way back to the shore, grunting from the dead weight of Geto. Fortunately, a white rope appears in front of you as a lifeline. "Ms. Y/N!" Todo calls from the shore. "Grab on! We'll pull you two back to safety!" 

As you wrap a hand around the rope and let yourself be pulled to the shore, you turn to stare at Geto. The sunlight glints against his skin and long lashes fanning his eyes. He looks the same but different; there are a few slight changes in his features. 

When you finally get him to shore and allow the lifeguards to help you lay him down on the sand, you see the changes more prominently. Back then, he had less tattoos and was quite lankier yet still clean. His hair was shoulder-length and he often wore it in buns. 

His hair is now down to his back and he has way more tattoos: a sleeve inks his left arm while his thick neck and right ribcage are inked. He is also buffer and bigger, lean muscles glinting with droplets of water in the golden sun rays. 

You would be thirsting after him if he wasn't practically dead or on your shit list. What the hell is he doing back here?!

"Jesus, Geto," Shoko hisses, looking upon the surfer in worry. You almost forgot her and Geto have always been close. "He's not breathing," someone gasps. "Wasn't he in the national surfer's championships earlier this year?" 

You are reminded of the past like a slap in the face: Geto had moved to Los Angeles to become a professional surfer. At the time, you were about to enter your sophomore year of high school while he just finished his senior year. The last time you saw him, he had thrown party to celebrate being drafted in the championships and his soft lips were on yours. 

"Everybody back up, please!" Yuji yells, bringing you back to reality. "Make room! Let the guy breathe and the lifeguard do her job." 

Now everyone's eyes are on you. 'Stop this,' you think to yourself. 'He almost drowned and you need to save him. He could die.' 

Quickly, you kneel before Geto and stare down at his plump lips. You swallow hard, biting back a grunt of frustration. You lean down and pry his lips open, tilting his head back for easier access. "You'd better not be faking," you hiss before you press your open mouth to his. 

You begin to exhale into his mouth, filling his air with lungs. The crowd waits with bated breath, watching you save the golden boy. Finally, Geto lurches beneath you and you quickly leap away to let him recover. 

He sputters before lurching forward and coughing up the water in his throat, retching on the sand. When he finally stops, he lays back on the sand, taking deep breaths, and his violet eyes lull to the side to stare at you. "Y-Y/N?" he murmurs, recognition flickering in them. "So I wasn't hallucinating earlier. That was really you." 

You would laugh if this situation wasn't so dire. "Yeah," you reply. "It's me." A slight smile appears on Geto's lips. "It's been so long," he softly says. "How are you doin'? You graduated, right?" 

Quickly, you reassess the situation and allow Todo and Yuji to help him up. "Uh, let's talk after you get yourself checked out," you say. "Todo, please escort this man to get some first aid for his knee please." 

The big, buffed boy nods, already leading Geto away by his shoulders as the crowd disperses. "You got it, Ms. Y/N!" But as they head towards the small lifeguard hut, Geto turns to look at you over his shoulder. You ignore the clench in your stomach from his eyes meeting yours. 

"You knew that guy?" Yuji curiously asks, watching too. 

"That was Geto, an old childhood friend of mine," Shoko explains, happy to speak for you. "He moved away from here three years ago to be a professional surfer. He came back just yesterday." 

You gape at Shoko in shock. She knew and didn't tell you?! "Y/N hated him back in high school," she continues, not even looking at you.

"I didn't hate him," you protest, glaring at her. "I just never liked his cockiness. I doubt anything's changed." 

"Excuse me, lifeguard," someone says behind you. "Did you happen to see a tall, dark-haired guy with an ugly face 'round here?" 

You knew that suave, sexy voice anywhere and turn to see none other than Gojo Satoru, Gojo's surfing buddy, with his white-hair, striking blue eyes, and abs worth dying for. You've always liked Gojo, his goofiness and charm. 

"You don't recognize me, 'Tarou?" you question, putting your hands on your hips. His blue eyes widen at the sight of you. "Y/N?" he gapes. "Fuck, girl, look at you! What, you not gonna give me a hug?" 

He swoops you up in a big embrace that makes you giggle, your feet lifting off of the sand. "So how's school? What are you doin' back here in this small town?" he chuckles. "I thought you left for the big city last time I heard." 

"School is school," you reply with a shrug. "Came back here for a break until the fall. Why are you here?" 

"Championships are over for Geto, so he came here to teach some kids how to surf for some kinda program." He gives you a crooked smile as puts his sunglasses on his eyes. "I'm just here for the fun." 

"Well, you'll find your friend at first aid," Shoko replies, jutting a thumb back at the station where Yuji retreated for the bathroom. "He almost died, so Y/N had to fish him out." 

Gojo rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "He's such a show-off. Well, lemme go find him and beat his ass. You two stick around and we can link up later." He gives you both a wink before he runs off in the sand to find his friend. 

That afternoon, you and Shoko get off from work. You change out of your sweat and water-soaked uniform and into some cut-offs and a bikini top before meeting Shoko out on the beach. She is smoking in her own cut-offs when you arrive, watching the families pack up their kids for the afternoon. 

"Why didn't you tell me Geto was back in town?" you immediately ask her. She glances at you behind her designer shades, barely looking taken aback by your question. "Was I supposed to?" she shoots back. 

You scowl at her, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, you never came off like you liked him before," she says, shrugging, "so I figured it wasn't a big deal. He didn't know you were back either." 

Shoko has been friends with you since HS, but was also friends with Geto and Gojo, tutoring them before the duo graduated. The fact that she is so friendly with the guy you despise still rubs you the wrong way...even when you know it's stupid. 

You sigh, rubbing your hands over your shoulders. Goose pimples appear despite it still being warm. "I just don't want things to be awkward," you whisper. 

Shoko cocks her head at you, confused. "Why would they be? You didn't fuck the guy, did you?" Her eyes widen, shock on her face. "Wait, did you?" she pushes, grabbing your arm. "I thought you only kissed!" 

"Ugh, never mind," you huff, waving her away. "And no, I didn't. He and Gojo are sluts; they'll fuck anything with a skirt. At least Gojo is nicer than Geto is." 

"What's this about Gojo bein' nicer than me?" a familiar voice asks. 

Shit. You turn, finding Geto standing behind you with a towel wrapped around his broad shoulders and not looking so unconscious now. "I'm guessin' I wasn't supposed to hear that," he chuckles, smirking at you. "Glad to see you haven't changed much, Y/N." 

You stare at him, speechless. Seeing him again is like a tsunami hitting you, especially when looks so damn GOOD. 

Gojo comes skipping after Geto, tossing an arm around his friend's neck. "Well, we run into each other again." He grins at you. "You pretty ladies want some drinks? We're headin' to the bar and we're buyin'...well, I am. Told Sugu I'd treat since he almost died." 

"I didn't almost die," Geto sighs, rolling his eyes and taking Gojo's arm off of him. Ever the self-assured prick. 

"Yeah, 'cause of her," Gojo argues, pointing at you. "Good thing this lifeguard was on duty and knew CPR." Geto's violet eyes widen, his shock evident. "You did CPR on me?" he asks you. 

You flush despite the fact that you were forced to since he nearly drowned. "It's part of my job," you deadpan. "You weren't breathing, so I had to." 

"It's not like he hasn't tasted you before," Shoko sniggers, side-stepping your pinching fingers. "Sounds tempting, but we need to shower first. I smell like seawater. I like my drinks strong too." 

Gojo sniggers, waltzing over to your friend. "Yeah, we know. Too bad your legs ain't as strong as your tonsils." He then snatches her shades off and books it across the sand while she chases him. "Hey, you prick!" she shouts. "Bring those back! They're Gucci!"

That leaves just you and Geto to walk alone side by side to follow the running pair. It is so awkward and tense that you'd have to cut through with a chainsaw. Words left unsaid for three years hang between you, suspended by a thin thread. 

"Hey," he finally greets. 

"Hey," you say back, lacking all kinds of enthusiasm. You stare at your white toes to avoid looking at him and his perfect body. He clears his throat, aware of the awkwardness. "Thanks...y'know...for helping me out earlier." You shrug it off. "Just doing my job." 

"If this is awkward, I can leave you be," he says, stealing a glance at you. You pretend not to notice it. "Don't worry about it. It's awkward being back here anyway." 

A slight chuckle leaves his lips. You ignore the butterflies it gives you. "I'm sure it is. You're a big city girl after all. Ivy League, right?" You bite back a chuckle. "Not Ivy League; just a marine biologist in the making." 

"I take it school is goin' well for you then?" he continues. You don't understand why he's making so much conversation. "What are you doin' back here anyways? Last time I checked, this town was too small for your dreams." 

You feel guilty for saying that now since you're happy to be home, but being a marine biologist (and before, a competitive surfer) wasn't going to happen in this little town. "Needed a change and I felt homesick, so I came back. I start my sophomore year in the fall with a new job at the aquarium." 

Geto hums in acknowledgement. "I saw that on your IG. Congrats." You pause, letting him walk a little ways ahead before he realizes that you've stopped. "You...keep up with my IG?" you ask, squinting suspiciously. "Why?" 

The surfer shrugs his broad shoulders, oblivious to the context. "Shoko is a mutual friend and I just happened to see you pop up. I never followed you or nothin', but I keep up with what you do." He looks deadass and genuine which makes it worse. Why is he checking up on you? You were never close friends and you never dated. 

You push away the confusing thoughts and keep walking with him in tow. "So what are you doin' back here?" you ask. "I would've thought Cali was the place to be." 

He catches the sarcasm in your tone and sniggers, moving to pull his hair into a long ponytail. The act is annoyingly hot. "It is," he chortles. "The beaches are way bigger there. The championships are over till next year, so I came back for the summer to teach kids how to surf. It's part of this program I put together to give back to the community." 

"That's good for publicity, I'd guess," you dryly joke. The words are out before you can stop them. But luckily, Geto snorts, getting your humor. "Oh, like you wouldn't believe. Women love men with kids." 

You roll your eyes at his cocky remark, but then again, you asked for it. Silence descends upon you again but less tense than last time. It is as if you have opened up a bottle that needed to be a long time ago. 

"Listen," Geto suddenly says. He sounds almost...nervous? "If you're not too tired, I'm havin' a party at my Air BNB tonight. Somethin' to celebrate my win." He pauses to give you a crooked smile. "I won, by the way. The championships. Thanks for your congratulations." 

And then the moment is over. You huff to yourself, already sick of him. "I don't watch sports," you mutter. "But congrats." He puts a hand on his heart, pretending to be touched.

"You and Shoko should come through if you want," he continues. "We'll have beer, games, music-" 

"Geto, what are you doing?" you question, finally looking at him. Really looking at him and not daring to look away. "Why are you doing this? We haven't spoken in years." 

'Not since the kiss.' 

He stops walking and so do you, both of you staring at each other in the setting sun. You can see it in his eyes like golden sparkles glistening within pools of violet. "What's wrong with reconnecting?" he asks with a smile. "Besides, this will give us a chance to catch up. Have some fun before the fall, y'know?" 

You don't know what is definition of 'fun' is, but you don't want to find out. He shrugs once more, backing off to give you space. "Just think about it. You've got sand on your butt, by the way." 

He leaves you to stand alone and look at the sand coating your asscheeks popping out from under your cut-offs. You angrily wipe the grains away. "Asshole," you huff to yourself. He hasn't changed at all either. 

You sit and stare at Geto's rented beach house aka his Air BNB, and it feels like you're about to enter the gates of Hell.

"Shoko, I-I don't know about this," you nervously say as you stare out at the gorgeous beach house from Shoko's car. "There's a lot of people we don't know in there." 

You wondered why Geto decided to stay here when he could've stayed at his childhood home, but if he was planning to party, you guess this was smarter. The house is beautiful, sitting right on top of a sandy hill with a driveway, a pool, and a breathtaking view of the beach. Perfect for a morning surf and a nighttime skinny dip. 

Shoko turns to you in her driver's seat, applying eyeliner to her eyes. "Who cares? We're here for the drinks and to have some fun. Plus, you look GOOD." 

You're wearing your favorite frilly white sundress for the occasion paired with gold sandals and your waterproof mist on your face to freeze your makeup. Your hair is braided back to accentuate your face, much to your mom's liking. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," she told you when Shoko pulled up to the door. "And tell Geto I said hi." 

You only grunted as you grabbed your bag and left to meet your friend. The ride over here was like going up a rollercoaster, fear and apprehension twirling in your gut as you threw back a shot of vodka and puffed on the vape you forced Shoko to give you even though you don't smoke. 

"This about Geto?" Shoko asks now, giving you a knowing look. "Don't lie to me. I can tell when you do." 

You look away to stare at the party, biting your lip at the sight of partiers in the pool. "Did he say something to you?" she demands and slams on the wheel. "I knew he'd fuck up again! When I catch him-" 

"No, no, it's me," you reassure her. "It's just weird, y'know? We haven't seen each other since he left for LA and now we're still at odds.” You want to ask Shoko what she meant by Geto "fucking up again". What did he do to fuck up the first time? 

"Then this is the perfect chance to patch things up. You only live once, right?" Shoko gives you a reassuring wink before she coaxes you out of the car and into the balmy, sea salt-scented night. There is a clear, inky sky full of stars; a perfect night for an adventure. 

The pool is full of inflatable animals, beach balls, and drunk people while the rest of the house is full loud music, red solo cups, flashing disco balls hanging from the ceiling, and even more drunk people. Including Gojo. 

"Weeell, look at what we have here!" he announces. He saunters over in his backwards cap, his face flushed pink and eyes aglow as they rake over your body. Daaamn, Y/N! You look like you tryna do somethin' tonight...or someone?" He quirks a curious brow at you. 

"Don't get your hopes up, Satoru," you laugh. "I'm not doin' anything with anyone. Just here to have fun." He nods in approval, taking your hand. “Then let's get you girls some shots and get you on the floor." 

He leads you and Shoko over to a back table covered in bottles of booze, cups, and a bowl of spiked fruit punch. You take a cup of the punch and sip on it, the vodka warming your tummy with every sip you take. Soon, you are flush from the alcohol and feeling looser, laughing with people and swaying your hips in your dress to the music. 

You're not thinking about Geto or saving his life or why he invited you here...until you are forced to. When your cup is empty and you turn to get more punch, you practically fall right into the surfer's muscular back. "Sorry!" you exclaim, horrified and feeling like a stupid drunk. 

When Geto turns around and you realize that it's him, dread creeps in and the false confidence that the alcohol provided fades. He looks absolutely delicious in his shorts and Hawaiian-print shirt peeled open to reveal his abs, tattoos, and the silver chain dangling like a treat from his neck. 

His violet eyes widen an inch, shocked at seeing you here. "You came," he states, giving you a smile. He actually looks happy to see you. "I didn't think you'd show up. You look good." His eyes rake over your dress, lingering a bit too long on your legs. 

“A party's a party," you deadpan, fixing your face as if you ate something sour. "It was Shoko's idea to come." He doesn't look the least bit disappointed that it wasn't your decision. "Well, m'glad you did," he replies, sounding genuine. "Hopefully, you'll stick around this time." 

A sudden flashback appears in your mind: Geto, age eighteen, looking down at you with those damn violet eyes as he stands on his childhood home's back porch. "I’ll be right back. Stick around for me." He turns to go inside, leaving you to touch your lips where his once were, claiming he wanted to teach you in case you did it in college and didn't know how. 

You remember that after waiting fifteen minutes for him, you had gotten up and left the party, but texted him that you did. He never answered. The next day, you got the news that he left for California in the dead of night. He hadn't even said goodbye prior to you kissing. 

"What does that mean?" you ask him now, squinting at his muscular back as he turns to pour himself more beer. Does he mean when you left his party? Does he mean when you ghosted him the same way he did you? 

'What does he mean?!' your drunken mind screams, frustrated.

Before you can turn him around and force him to answer, Gojo comes to break it up. "Heeey, there's the winner!" he shouts, tossing himself at Geto. "We got beer pong started! You two stop bein' so antisocial and join in!" 

But before he can wrap an arm around you and force you over to the beer pong table, you give him a wavering smile and side-step him. "I-I'm gonna go to the bathroom," you stammer before running off to get out of there as quickly as humanly possible. 

You squeeze through the throng of partiers, getting your toes stepped on and accidentally bumping people before making it to the staircase. Quickly, you wedge yourself upstairs and walk past closed doors until you find out that is cracked. 

In your drunken and panicked state, you push it open to see nothing but darkness. "Dammit," you huff, pressing your hand against the wall to find a light switch. Luckily, you find it...the bad news is that you're in a bedroom. 

Geto's bedroom. You can tell from the surfboard sitting in the corner of the room and the framed photos of his life in Cali on his dresser and armoire. It is a beautiful room with a king-sized bed coated in a combat bedspread, a flat-screen, and a balcony overlooking the beach. 

"Shit!" you hiss, stumbling backwards. "This isn't the bathroom!" You have to leave now before you're caught! But as you turn to rush out, you clumsily knock a photo off of Geto's dresser. "Shit!" you hiss again, panic seeping in your veins. You're so sure that you'll be caught. 

Quickly, you kneel down to pick up the framed photo of a young Geto and his parents at a surfing competition, but something stops you short. There, on the floor, is a blue greeting card covered in fish that change colors in the light. With shaky hands, you open the card and find your handwriting: "Good luck in Cali - Y/N" 

'He kept it,' you think to yourself, in shock. Your mom told you to buy it for Geto despite you not wanting to. You had handed it to him in a hurry, flushing with embarrassment, but he just smiled at the card before taking you outside to sit with him on the back porch. 

Before he asked you about college. Before he mentioned dating. Before he lightly teased you about kissing before he realized that you've never kissed anyone. Before he showed you how, his lips soft and his tongue piercing gliding against your tongue. 

Before he went back inside and left you sitting there, starstruck and then forced to confront your actions. Before he left for LA and never returned until now, bringing the past back with him. 

"Hey." You squeak, dropping the card and finding Geto standing there in the doorway. Quickly, you pick up the items you dropped and stand. "I was just looking for the bathroom," you lamely explain. "I got lost." 

He huffs out a laugh, his squinted eyes full of humor. "Don't sweat it. There's one in here you can use; just don't puke in my toilet." Quickly, you hand him the items and rush to the bathroom door near his bed, feeling calm only when you are finally alone. 

You manage to pee and check yourself in the mirror, finding only slightly smudged mascara and a glow to your face from the spiked punch and your setting mist's hold breaking up, before exiting after washing your hands. 

Geto turns from his dresser, his eyes concerned. "You good?" he asks. You primly nod, awkwardly fidgeting with the ruffles on your dress. "You kept the card I gave you," you murmur. 

He looks confused, obviously tipsy too, before he looks at the fish-coated card. "'Course I did," he chuckles. "It's a cute card. You always loved your fish." He stares down at it rather adoringly, making you feel weird butterflies. "Y'know, it's funny, but I always knew you'd leave here too. You were always so smart...destined for bigger and better shit." 

You hug yourself, squeezing away the flutters. "Yeah, well, I only started college. I could flunk at any time." 

Geto shakes his head, looking serious now. It renders you breathless. "You won't. You never will, Y/N. That was never you." He pauses, shaking his head as he looks back at the card. "You were always so dedicated. So determined. So fuckin' hard-headed." 

So much for the nice shit. "Thanks for the compliment," you murmur. "I've been told that by guys before." He chuckles to himself, the sound airy and sexy. "So you dated around at school?" he wonders aloud. 

You scowl at him, weirded out and confused by his sudden interest in your dating life. "Of course, I did. I'm a nineteen-year old girl, Geto." You cock your head to the side, sizing him up. "Why're you askin' me that anyway?" Geto keeps giving you that strange look, one you can't decipher. 

CRASH! 

You both flinch at the sound of something breaking outside the door. "Shhhh!" someone shushes while giggling. Geto unclenches his fists at his sides, sighing defeatedly, before giving you a small smile. "Wanna go somewhere more private?" he asks. 

You make out the hope in his tone, his eyes alight with something. Not lust, but it's still there, looming before you. You keep silent, unsure. Sensing your hesitation, he bluntly says, "I'm not tryin' to do anything, Y/N. I wouldn't do that. I just meant let's talk. We can go on the beach and take a walk if you down." 

Still, you're silent, weighing your options. Standing near the cracked balcony doors, you feel the summer breeze cool from the sea, relaxing and serene. Geto's expression grows softer, his eyes and lips drawing you in. "It's your choice, sweetie." 

Between the sea breeze and the music pounding against your skull, you are more inclined to agree...and not at all because of the random ass pet name he throws at you. "Fine then," you reply. "Let's talk." 

You never knew how quiet the beach could be until you and Geto start walking side by side in complete silence on its shores. 

It's a beautiful night; a night fit for a painting with its starry sky and soft waves crashing against the shore and mossy rocks. A fat, white moon hangs in the sky, suspended like a spotlight. The beach stretches on and on, your footprints from your bare feet in the sand leading all the way back to the AirBNB. 

You and Geto have been walking for at least five minutes, but with the silence and the tension in the air, it feels like five days. As the ocean breeze blows, you shiver slightly, holding your sandals against your chest. 

Geto notices. Of course, he would. "Cold?" he asks. You shake your head, pressing your lips tight together. They are slick with a fresh coating of Fenty Beauty lip bomb gloss. "I'm fine," you mutter. 

Suddenly, he unrolls the blanket he's been holding under his arm, having carried it in case you wanted to sit. You shake your head, emitting a laugh from him. "Don't fight it, Y/N," he chuckles. "You've always been so stubborn." 

You flush as he places his blanket over your shoulders; it smells of sea salt and citrus. You continue to walk with him, the tension brewing now. "You always treated me like a kid," you say way harsher than you intended. "Even when we were younger." 

Geto hums to himself, acknowledging your statement. "Is that why you always hated me?" he suddenly asks. You glance at him, your stomach jumping at his words. "What?" you dumbly question. 

His smile is wry; weak. "It's not a secret, Y/N. You never liked me, even as kids. I never knew why 'cause I always liked you." 

You scoff, calling bullshit. "Is that why you always picked on me? Why you always acted like you were better than me? 'Cause you liked me so much?" You tick to fingers up and down, air-quoting "liked". 

Geto is silent for a while, leading you to look at him only to find him gone. You turn to find him some ways behind you, having paused in the sand to stare at you in the moonlight that illuminates his handsome face. "Is that what you think?" he questions, squinting those damn eyes at you. 

Why does he sound so surprised? You find yourself becoming irritated by his mock obliviousness (you're also kinda drunk). "You were always so cocky," you shoot. "Always knew more than me. Always did better than me at everything. I could never compete." 

You know you're saying too much. You know that you're uncapping a bottle that should stay closed...but you can't anymore. The vodka and the sea and Geto's cologne are all pushing you to be vulnerable tonight. 

The surfer's eyes soften more, gazing down at you as if you are a wounded kitten. "Is that why you quit surfing?" he softly wonders. Your anger subsides, replaced with fear. He knows. And he's heard which is worse. From Shoko? Maybe by your parents? 

You stare down at your feet, biting your lip. "It wasn't just that," you admit. "That night after your party...when we..." You grow hot in the face. "Say it," Geto softly urges. "What did we do, Y/N?" He has gotten closer and you are hyperaware of it. "We...kissed," you whimper bashfully. "And you left and never called me again." 

"Well, you never called me either," he rebuttals, a smile in his voice. "I figured you moved onto bigger and better men. Plus, we never dated to begin with. Like I said, you hated me." 

"I didn't hate you," you rebuttal, not liking how he's painting you or how he's making you feel: guilty. Ashamed. "You were just always rubbin' shit in my face." 

Now it's Geto's turn to feel guilty and ashamed. "I never meant to make you feel like that, Y/N. I'm sorry...but you never should've quit surfing. Not because of me and my mistakes." 

Damn. That hurt. It hurt more than you'd like to admit. "So giving me my first kiss was a mistake?" you blurt. 

The surfer sighs, exhausted. "You misunderstood me. That was never a mistake, but I couldn't let you get involve in me. In this." He ticks a finger between himself and you. "Everything. You were on your road and I didn't wanna ruin that for you." 

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip again, tears threatening to push past your eyes. Why is he saying all of this now? "But I always thought about you," he professes. "I never stopped thinking about that night, sweetie. How you looked...how you tasted..." 

His words set you on fire, making you feel like you just stepped foot in lava. "W-We shouldn't talk like this," you stammer. "You shouldn't be saying this. Not to me." 

You turn to walk off, mostly to cool down and clear your swimming head, but Geto gently takes your hand. It's so much bigger than yours. "How come?" he murmurs, his face intimately soft. You stare at your hands locked together, wondering what his fingers would feel like on your body. "Like you said; I'm on my road and so are you. We'll both be leaving in the fall anyways." 

Geto raises a brow. "So?" he asks. You have a logical rebuttal in your head; it's there! 

"S-So...so..." And yet, you are bumbling and fumbling over your words now, your mind going blank. And then you feel the drunken tears pushing up, your embarrassment and these stupid feelings making you feel so small.

"It's okay, Y/N," Geto comforts. "Come here." He pulls you into him and you let him, his big arms embracing you. You let yourself melt into his touch, against his rock-solid body. You inhale his scent, falling into a field of citrus fruit and saltwater. 

In his arms, you feel safe. Safe enough to admit the thought that's been pushing at your skull for three years now. "You showed me how to kiss before," you whisper against his chest. "You wanted to teach me how to be good for guys in college." 

"Mmm-hmm," he hums. "I did. I'm sorry that I-" 

"Show me again," you interrupt. "Teach me." Geto's body tenses and he pulls away to glare at you, confused and alarmed. But you keep your gaze soft, hoping he'll see that you're serious. 

Quickly, the confusion melts and his eyes grow hooded, making heat pool between your thighs. "Have you kissed anyone since you left?" he asks, his voice husky and deep. You bite your lip, nipples hardening beneath your dress...though they've been hard since he hugged you. "Yes," you reply. 

"Did they kiss like me?" he questions. You stay silent, unable to speak and expose yourself even more than you already have. Geto's hand presses against your cheek, gentle and intoxicating. "Tell me, sweetie." 

"No," you manage to squeak out. He inhales slowly as if he can barely contain your response and then, slowly, carefully, he leans down to swoop you up in a soft, passionate, earth-shatteringly magical kiss that nearly makes your foot pop like a girl in a romcom would. 

It is just as amazing as the first one you shared was, only this time, you're older and so is he. So he can deepen the kiss if he wants to. You can allow him to slide his tongue against yours, the cool metal of his piercing caressing your tongue. You can moan into his mouth as your hands wrap around him, pulling him closer. He's still the best kisser you've ever had. 

Suddenly, Geto pulls away with a soft groan and tilts your chin up slightly to kiss your neck. Each kiss leaves a trail of fire across your skin as you grasp his broad shoulders. "Suguru," you softly moan. "People might see us." 

Your body screams with need as he pulls you close to him, pressing you flush against him. "I don't care," he rasps out. "Let them. I want this." You can feel it: it's pressing into your thighs now, hard and throbbing thanks to his trunks. 

"I want this too," you mewl. "I want you." He pulls away to look at you, allowing you to stand on your toes and kiss him again, hungry and needy. 

"Fuck," he whispers against your lips, astonished. He pulls away from your kiss, taking his bottom lip with you as he gently suckles on it. It excites you, making your pussy throb beneath your dress. "There's a couple things I'll have to teach you then," he softly chuckles. 

You wonder what he means by that until he takes your hand, interlacing your fingers. "Come here, with me." 

You let him lead you away down the beach, yards away from the house, behind a small, secluded surfboard hut. Colorful surfboards hide you from view and Geto lowers his beach bag down to pull you close. It is now just you two standing alone, unbothered and together. 

"So what now?" you wonder aloud, giddy with excitement and thrill. A wicked smirk appears on the surfer's lips. "I'll show you. First, you need to get out of this sexy lil' dress." His big hands slide your spaghetti straps down, revealing your tan lines. 

You find yourself giggling yet feeling nervous as you help him slide your dress off, revealing the string bikini underneath. Geto salaciously bites lip as he helps you pull each string off, letting each article of clothing fall to the sand. That leaves you naked, exposed to him and his cock pulsing beneath his shorts. "You're perfect," he sighs. "Better than I ever dreamed." 

That makes you smile and your pussy gush between your thighs. He joins you, only having to kick off his slides and peel off his shorts. Your mouth grows dry at the sight of him: his tanned, lickable abs lead down to a happy trail and pale, muscular thighs untouched by the sun where his beautiful, throbbing cock swings. 

He, too, is as perfect as you dreamed he'd be. He is what you'd imagine while with other boys in college, while you'd rub your pussy in your dorm room, biting your pillow to not wake your roommate. Your childhood nemesis of all people! 

"C'mere," he huskily orders. You do so, wanting so badly to be near him. You begin to kiss and touch each other the way you've dreamed, indulging in all you have to offer. His body is a wonderland, thrilling you in ways a wave can't. 

Geto pulls away from kissing your lips again to focus on your breasts, massaging them with his big hands. He pays close attention to your fluttering eyelids and soft moans, moving on to gently sucking on the hard peaks of your nipples. 

You gasp and cup his head against your tits, tingling with pleasure. Your nipples are usually very sensitive, meaning that every tweak of Geto's fingers and swipe of his slick tongue sends your pussy into a frenzy. "W-Wait," you stammer, rubbing your thighs together. "I'm really–" 

"Wet?" he finishes, chuckling. He pauses, staring up at you with glinting eyes. "That's the idea, sugar. That's how I want you." He presses a chaste, wet kiss against your lips as his hand ducks between your thighs to asses the lips down below. 

"Shit!" he hisses, his cock visibly twitching as his fingers become soaked with you. "Did you get this wet when we kissed that night?" 

You jerkingly nod, embarrassed. Despite the way the night ended, you did feel a wet spot as he slowly made out with you that night. 

He looks satisfied with that, his violet eyes glistening like two sugilite gems. "Good girl," he coos. "Such a pretty girl." He gently runs his fingers along your slit, making you whine, before taking them away. 

"Such a pretty pussy," he murmurs, bringing his fingers coated in your juices to his lips. You watch, transfixed and so, so horny for him. Hornier than you've ever been for any guy. "I really wanna taste you," he hoarsely says. "I want you to hook your leg over my shoulder and make up for lost time." 

A heat builds in the pit of your stomach that drops down to your ass. He notices your sudden change in attitude and silently asks with his eyes. "I've...never had that before," you softly admit. 

In all your time in college, you've never had anyone go down on you before. You've given blowjobs and split your legs open for dick plenty of times. But cunnilingus? Never happened. 

Geto looks perplexed, tilting his head to the side. "No one's ever eaten you out before?" he asks, shocked. You think he'll laugh at you, but he just looks plain whipped. "That's...such an honor, sweetie. I'll make it real good for you. You just relax for me, okay?" 

He then kneels before you and swings a leg over his shoulder, forcing you to grab onto him for balance. He smirks, pressing a kiss to your ankle where your gold anklet glistens. "And don't worry; I'm a good diver. I can hold my breath." 

"Okay," you reply, giggling slightly. Your heart races wildly in your chest, anticipating what comes next. From your first kiss to your first lick. 

And God, can this man lick! When Geto says he's a good diver, he isn't kidding. He goes head first, starting off with gentle, slow kiss and tongue flicks against your wet slit, prying your pussy lips apart to gently suck at your clit. 

You moan at the contact, the feeling so foreign yet pleasurable. When he begins to run his lips over your clit, you giggle out, "Sugu, that tickles." He smiles against your pussy before slurping at your juices, running his tongue around your entrance. 

"Oh, fuck," you moan, tilting your head back. "Sugu, that's so good." You press your head back against one of the surfboards as you grip your surfer's shoulders, your white nails contrasting against his tan skin and tattoos. 

He hums appreciatively against your clit, pulling away to smile at you. "Told you I'm a good diver," he jokes. "Shit, you tasted so good." He sounds like he means it, even gazing lovingly at your glistening cunny slick with your arousal and his spit. 

He goes right back in, gently sliding his tongue inside of you as his nose glides against your clit. Your mouth falls agape, your eyes wide as saucers. "Oh, my God," you whine. "Sugu, yes!" You throw your head back from the sheer pleasure, shamelessly grinding your pussy into his tongue. 

You've never felt so high before, especially off of someone else. You feel like you're riding a big wave, feeling the high and rush of being on top of the world before a wipeout. Geto's hands grip your ass, keeping you pressed firmly against his mouth, locking you down so there is nowhere to go but up. 

And up, and up, and up as you get closer to your orgasm. "Sugu," you whimper, winding your fingers through his raven locks. "Oh, fuck, I'm gonna...you're gonna make me cum!" 

The surfer hums an eager "mm-hmm" into your pussy, sending vibrations throughout your body. He licks faster, curling his tongue up to toy with that spot that nearly makes you unravel at the seams like an old sweater. 

And soon, you do. With a loud moan of his name and a couple of "fuck"s slipping from your lips, you cream all over Geto's long, wet tongue, still grinding your pelvis into him, riding his mouth. Your orgasm is intense, making you shiver and shake. Your surfer grips you tight, keeping you grounded as you roll and whine your waist for him, riding out your O. 

Finally, your moans grow weak and your hips slow their movement, the pleasure almost painful now. You feels 100x better than you did moments before; freer and sexier. All because of Geto's magical tongue. 

He pulls away to kiss and slurp at your inner thighs, giving you a playful bite. Slowly, he unwinds your leg from his neck and stands, his lips slightly glistening and his eyes lust-blown...and his cock extra hard. "You're so hard," you softly gasp, staring down at the appendage. 

You can't stop yourself; you gently grasp his dick and begin to stroke him, up and down, up and down. His soft groans encourage you, welcoming your touch with a pulse and a twitch. "Yeah? That's all for you. You should've seen me after we kissed that night." 

You feel your pussy throb at the newfound knowledge that he was just as horny for you as you were for him that night. For years you wondered what his cock looked like...felt like...tasted like...and now, here you are with it hard and heavy in your palm. 

"C-Can...can I taste you too?" you softly ask, peering up at him through your thick lashes. "Maybe we can 69?" 

Geto looks taken aback by your bold suggestion laced in such sweet shyness, but then a crooked smile appears. "So you want my tongue again?" he teases, his cock throbbing against your fingers. "Is that it, mama? You like my mouth that much?" 

He cups your chin in his hand, forcing you to keep looking at him. The possessiveness in his grip makes your overly-sensitive cunt twitch. You find yourself nodding, responsive to anything he says. 

He groans, pushing his hips forward so his cock can slide deeper in your hand, fucking it. "Sure thing, sugar; whatever you want. Let me just lay this blanket down." 

After reluctantly tearing himself away from your hand and laying the soft blanket on the sand, he lays down on his back, his thighs open and his hard cock on full display for you. You find your place on top of him, hovering just above his face while your legs straddle each side of his shoulders. 

"Fuck," he softly groans, staring up at your pussy hovered above him. His big hands grip your ass, gently prying them apart to see your other pretty hole. You whimper, biting your lip in a mixture of embarrassment and arousal. "You're absolutely perfect, y'know that?" he murmurs, giving your inner thighs an open-mouthed kiss on each. 

You could say the same thing about his big, beautiful, rock-hard, throbbing cock displayed in front of you. The urge to lick and suck on it is almost as powerful as your uncertainty about sitting on his face. "S-So...how do we..." You trail off, bashful. 

Geto chuckles, his breath fanning against your wet pussy, making you twitch with need. "Just sit on my face, sweetie. Don't worry; I can take it." 

He gives your ass a firm squeeze, making you moan. "Then you swerve your hips around, like you're ridin' a wave," he continues, his voice huskier the more he stares at your sobbing wet pussy above him, waiting for a taste. "Just pretend I'm your personal surfboard," he raspily jokes. "I think I'm a little better than one though." 

And just as he instructs you to do, you slowly close the gap between your dripping pussy and his face, gasping when his lips and tongue make contact with you. "Oh, fuck!" you shout to the stars, moaning in pleasure. Everything feels so much deeper and intense in this position. 

You hope he feels the same when you begin to stroke and suck on his cock slowly yet greedily. You've been wondering what he would feel like in your mouth, stretching out your throat. You wondered what his moans would sound like as you pleased and stroked him with your wet mouth, caressing him with your tongue. 

Well, now you do, and you have front row seats. His toes curl and his hips slowly grind up to meet your mouth every time you pull your head up and down, humming from the taste of pre-cum on your tastebuds and his tongue fucking your pussy. 

You are sure that you're dripping all over Geto's pretty face, but he sloppily eats your hole like he needs more, massaging your ass while he does so. You continue to grind against his face, alternating between rubbing your clit against his top lip and nose. 

"Mmm, baby," you moan, wetly popping off of his cock to verbally tell him of your pleasure. "Sugu, you're mouth is s-so good!" 

Geto grunts into your pussy as he juts his cock up to rub it against your tits, desperate for relief too. You go back to giving it to him, slipping him down your throat, hollowing your cheeks and opening the tight hole of your throat for better access. You want to give him all of you. 

At some point, for what feels like hours of constant sucking, licking, and slurping each other up, you find yourself cumming again. You muffle your moans and slutty sounds of your O with Geto's cock, keeping your lips wrapped around it as he swallows your cum, moaning about how sweet you are. 

You tremble and shudder from the orgasm, digging your nails into Geto's tree-trunk thighs to ground you. You have never had two intense orgasms back to back before, and it leaves your body drained. 

Slowly, you slip off of Geto's face to allow him air to breathe and straddle his chest instead. You look back at him lying behind you, lips glistening with your cum, his hair a mess, and a dazed look in his eyes. He's never looked sexier. "Tired, sweetie?" 

"Not at all," you quip back. "You didn't cum yet." You wrap a hand around his spit-slicked cock and begin to stroke him, earning a moan of enjoyment. "Did you want something more?" you suggest, hoping you don't have to elaborate on that. 

You don't. From the look in Geto's eyes, he knows exactly what you mean. "Yeah, but...I don't think I have a condom," he sheepishly admits, a pink blush coating his cheeks. It's so unlike him yet so endearing. "I'm sorry. I can go back and-" 

"No," you cut in, shaking your head. "I mean, there are other ways, right?" The surfer silently stares at you, making you think that maybe you said the wrong thing...until his lips curl into a salacious smile. 

"You want this dick that badly, huh?" he teases you. Whimpering, you turn your head to face away from him, but he stops you with a sharp smack on your ass. "No, no, don't run. Say it to me. It's just me here, mama." 

It must be the need you feel or the sharp sting of his ass smack that has you so horny and eager, but you turn around and peer down at him through your lashes, heat pooling in your core and making you soak his abs. "I want you, Suguru," you whimper. "Badly." 

A seductive light sparkles in Geto's violet eyes and he nods, his chest rising and falling with anticipation for your cunt. "Do what you want with me then." 

He doesn't have to tell you twice. You brace yourself on his thighs and lift yourself up to hover over his cock, but before you can come down, he stops you, his eyes flaring with a passionate fire. "But when this is over with, I need to you to know that this is not just a one-night thing for me. I want this to be real." 

You stare at him over your shoulder in shock, nearly craning your neck. Desperately, you search for a little glimmer of a lie in his eye. A twitch in his lips. A sign that he is just toying with you and doesn't mean these serious, intimate things...but you find nothing but a hot determination. 

You swallow hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. "Sugu—" 

"Just listen, please," he hoarsely begs, pleading with his eyes. "I've been thinkin' about you for over a year, Y/N, wonderin' how you are, where you are, who you're with." He sits up to plant a soft kiss on your back, your shoulder blades, your waist. 

"I'm sorry I didn't take that chance to go down your road with you. I'm sorry I never told you this before, but now...now we're here and I'm not wasting another second not bein' real with you." 

He wraps his arms around you, holding you in his lap, locking you there. "I want you," he rasps. "I don't care if you leave and go back to the city to live your life. I'm always gonna want YOU, Y/N. And if you don't feel the same, say it now so I'm not makin' myself look like a fool." 

Those words, saccharine sweet and filled with so much yearning, make you wetter than you've ever been in your life. He has freed you from the past and your resentment for him. You now know that you can be real too. 

You feel tears push past your eyes, most definitely fucking up the rest of your mascara, as you take his hands and interlace your fingers with his. "I want you too, Suguru," you softly sob. "I need you." You grind your pussy against his cock, emitting a groan from the both of you. 

Geto leans back on the blanket, eyes hooded and so dark that you can see the stars in them. "Then take me." 

With the flames of a thousand horny fires lighting your loins up, you push yourself up, your hands still locked with Geto's, and then come down to grind your naked pussy against his shaft. Your surfer gives a low hiss while you lewdly moan, sparks of pleasure shooting throughout your bodies. 

Your pussy lips are sticky and wet, sliding so easily against Geto's thick, gorgeous cock, your twitching clit singing with pleasure. You're so wet that he could easily slip inside and fill you up to the brim with all of him, stretching your walls out and tattooing himself against you so you can never forget the feeling. 

"Shiiiiit, sweetie," Geto hisses, making you giggle from the sheer force it takes for him to hiss out that one swear. Is your pussy really that good? You turn to stare at him over your shoulder, becoming transfixed at the way his face screws in pleasure, cheeks flushed and lips plump from kissing. 

You release his hands, letting him grasp your hips as they grind and roll against him, his cock sliding between your dripping pussy lips, coating his shaft and balls in your juices. "How's it feel bein' my surfboard?" you joke. 

Your surfer cracks a smile, a laugh leaving his pretty lips. "Fuckin' perfect," he replies. "A wave don't compare to this." 

You concur, your eyes rolling back from the magical feeling of your clit sliding against his dick. Moans of "ah" and "mmm" leave your lips as you grind quicker, speeding up your movements and applying more pressure to your clit, stimulating yourself on your surfer with every intention of cumming. 

You can tell Geto isn't far behind from the sound of his moans growing louder and his grip tightening around your hips. "S-Sugu," you warn. "If we're not quick, someone could come soon." 

"Yeah," he hoarsely agrees, "and it's gonna be me if you keep that up. Fuck, the way you move makes me wanna visit your city as soon as the fuckin' fall hits." 

You know he's referring to the way you're gyrating your hips forward, causing your pussy to slide against the base of his cock, so you continue. 

"I want you to cum," you whine, turning back to look at him. "Please, Sugu, baby. Cum with me." 

The man is practically in agony, his neck tense and his jaw tight as he gets closer and closer to cumming. "Fuck, Y/N!" he gasps, lifting his hips to meet your grinding. "Keep lookin' at me like that. Need to see you cum for me." 

You frantically nod and close your eyes to focus. Focus on your hips moving together. Focus on your clit tingling as you reach your peak. Focus on that tightening knot in your core getting tighter and tighter until...it snaps. 

"Fuck, Sugu!" you whine, definitely loud enough for the rest of the beach to hear. You don't care; not when your third orgasm of the night is so good and euphoric. You spill your cream all over Geto's cock, leaving you both sticky and wet with your cum. 

Geto continues to grind himself against your cunt, repeating lewd moans of "fuck, fuck, fuck" until he forces you to bend forward, presenting your ass to him. He wraps a hand around himself and furiously fucks his fist until he finally spurts his cum all over your ass. 

You shiver in delight as he moans from his release, the sound echoing throughout the salt-scented air, mingling with the soft crashing of the waves. A giddy and delirious giggle escapes you as you feel his warm spurts of spunk hit your ass, marking you with his scent. You always hated it when guys did this to you back in college. 

But with Geto Suguru? You welcome it. 

After some recovering and some small kisses on your backside, Geto helps you lie down with him on the blanket under the starry canvas of the night sky. Together, you curl against each other, his chest your pillow and your arms becoming anchors as they wrap around his waist. 

You close your eyes, letting your head swim and your heart race decrease. You feel better than you've had in weeks. "That was so nice," you sigh against his chest. 

"You definitely were," he chortles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'm sorry I couldn't give you more." You hum in disagreement, pressing a kiss to one of his pecs, stroking the dark outline of his tattoos. "It was more than enough," you promise. 

And then reality hits you like a big wave right in the face, causing you to giggle to yourself. Geto looks down at you expectantly, raising a brow. "What?" he probes. 

You shake your head though you grin to yourself, still stroking his ink. "This is...just crazy, y'know?" you snort. "Me sleeping with my childhood nemesis who confessed his romantic feelings for me? Shoko won't believe it." 

Geto laughs with you, using one of his big hands to stroke your hair. "Nah, she will; Gojo too. They always knew I had a thing for you." 

Of course, they did. 

"I meant what I said earlier," he suddenly says. You look up at him, confused. His eyes are soft and intimate. "That I'd visit you in your city. That wasn't just sex talk. With my type of money, I'll fly wherever you go." 

You laugh and pinch his nipple at his cocky little quip, earning a pinch on the ass in retaliation. "I'd love that, Sugu," you purr, snuggling into his side. Your stomach flip-flops with hope, wondering if this truly is a done deal. "So this can really work? Us? When we leave here in the fall?" 

Geto hugs you closer to him, his arms secure and strong as they lock around you. "I'll make it work, but only if you want that too." 

You want that more than anything. "Well, you know I love challenges," you giggle into his chest. "I'll gladly try dating a celebrity athlete." You sigh, draping your legs across his, intertwining them in a heap. "At least we have now." 

"And the whole summer," he murmurs into your hair. 

For a while, you stay like that, you the little spoon and he the big spoon, snuggling on the blanket in your afterglow against the soft lull of the waves. But after a while, reality sets in again and the night remains young. 

"So...what now?" Geto wonders aloud. You sit up on the blanket, his hands still stroking your thighs. "Well, we do have this open beach...and these surfboards right here." 

Your eyes click to the colorful surfboards presented before you before you give Geto a knowing glance. He cocks his head at you, smirking at signature smirk that makes your panties drop. "Are you challengin' me, L/N?" he teases. "You must wanna get that ass whooped." 

You scoff, shooting off of the blanket to find your bikini. "Don't play me. I may be rusty, but once I get back on that board, I'm doin' the whoopin' here." 

You stick your tongue out at him as you bend down to pull your bikini bottoms over your soaked pussy. You are just tying the strings around your waist when you feel a hand sharply smack your ass from behind. 

SPANK! 

You squeak, looking up to find Geto already gunning for the water with his asscheeks out, his trunks in one hand, and a surfboard under his arm. "Sugu!" you squeal. "You cheated!" 

He turns to look at you, his grin as bright as the summer sun. He is the epitome of joy as he steps backwards into the frothy water. "Don't hate the player; hate the game, mama," he laughs. "Now get your ass in this water with me!" 

You finish getting dressed and take a surfboard before running after him, laughing giddily, joy spilling out of you. As soon as you hit the water and surf the first wave in what feels like decades, you feel complete. Especially with your new boyfriend. 

THE END.

you woke up expecting your first mission of the day to end professionally with a quiet victory. your routine usually flowed with a seamless rhythm because you had spent years honing your quirks and your instincts. you took a certain pride in the fact that your missions tended to end successfully and remained relatively calm, at least from your perspective.

you did not consider yourself cocky, but there was a comforting predictability to the way you handled villains. you could usually predict a criminal's next move before they even thought of it, leaving you to wrap things up with a clean arrest and a polite nod to the authorities.

you imagined today would be no different, just another entry in your record of efficiency.

but boy were you wrong.

your day started that morning at tokyo’s largest shopping district. the air felt crisp and the streets were filled with the usual hum of commuters and tourists.

you were paired with katsuki for a team up mission targeting a group of high profile robbers. these villains had a penchant for the finer things, having spent the last few months raiding museums for historical paintings and priceless jewelry.

the objective was simple. apprehend the group, secure the stolen assets, and ensure no civilians were harmed.

for the first hour, the mission played out exactly as you had envisioned. you and katsuki moved like a well oiled machine, your quirk complementing his explosive one. you managed to corner the group in a side gallery, neutralizing the muscle while katsuki blasted the leaders into submission. the civilians were ushered to safety and the jewels were recovered in record time.

“took you long enough to wrap that one up, you slow ass,” katsuki barked, though there was no real heat in it.

"i had it under control, katsuki, you just wanted to blow things up," you replied, glancing back at him with a smirk.

the calm shattered during the final moments of the arrest.

one of the villains, a scrawny man with a desperate look in his eyes, lunged forward as you were securing a pair of handcuffs. he didn't aim for the jewels or the exit. he aimed for you.

katsuki saw the movement a split second before you did. he didn't hesitate, shoving you hard to the side and taking the hit directly to his chest. there was no explosion or flash of light, just a strange, shimmering ripple in the air that seemed to snap onto him.

you both stood there for a moment in total silence, blinking in confusion.

katsuki looked down at his chest, then back at the villain, his face twisting into a scowl. “what the fuck was that?!” he didn't feel anything unusual, and you assumed the attack had failed.

but as katsuki reached out to grab your arm to pull you away from the scene, the world seemed to tilt. the moment his fingers brushed your skin, there was a violent, audible clack, like two industrial magnets slamming together.

you were suddenly jerked backward, your back slamming into his chest with such force that the air left your lungs in a sharp wheeze.

“what the hell?! get off me!” katsuki roared, his voice echoing off the museum walls.

“you get off me!” you retorted as you tried to push away, planting your feet and leaning forward with all your strength.

“i am not staying stuck to you all day,” he snarled, his palms sparking. “i will blast this quirk right off of me!”

“don't you dare blast us into a wall,” you warned, though you were already feeling the dizzying proximity of him.

you managed to create a gap of maybe three inches before an invisible force yanked you back. you flew backward again, hitting him with a dull thud that made you groan.

that’s how you ended up here, talking to the authorities, finishing the mission by sharing all the intel you have gathered. you could physically feel the headache coming as you scolded yourself for your wishful thinking that today would be a good day because you were so wrong.

the very angry and very agitated katsuki bakugo who was literally stuck to you was living proof of that.

“that fucking bastard! get us out of this, you pathetic excuse of a villain!” he yelled at the villain who was cuffed being escorted away.

“katsuki, stop moving! you’ve already tried pulling away once and it didn’t work. what makes you think trying over and over again would be any different?” you snapped, though your voice was strained from the impact of his chest on your back from the constant forceful pulling.

“i am not moving, you damn brat!” he was screaming even louder now, his face inches from your ear. “i shouldn’t have agreed to do this low tiered mission.”

“you’re a hero! we did our job, get over yourself.” you knocked your head back to his, hitting him square in the forehead making him groan.

“fuck you.” katsuki growled at you from behind, biting onto a section of your hair from the back before tugging.

you rolled your eyes in anger before stomping on his foot. “stop acting like a child.”

“hit me again and i’ll throw the both of us into traffic.” katsuki threatened you.

you rolled your eyes as you turned your head back to look at the police officers who were still processing the scene. you tried to maintain your professional composure while katsuki was essentially glued to your spine.

he was leaning back with all his might, trying to keep his chest from pressing against your back, but it was a losing battle. every time he drifted a few inches away, the magnetic pull would snap him back into you with a forceful slam that pushed you forward, nearly making you trip over your own boots.

“for the love of god, i am just trying to finish the report,” you told the katsuki before turning back to the detective, ignoring the way katsuki was vibrating with rage behind you. “please ignore him and his temper tantrum.”

“shut your mouth!” katsuki yelled, his hands gripping your waist tightly, not to keep himself from slipping but because he physically can’t let go. “i am not having a temper tantrum, you're just annoying! and you!” he turned his head to glare at the captured villain who was already in police van. “you piece of shit! i am going to blow your limbs off one by one! do you hear me! i will blast you into the next century for this!”

“katsuki, shut up!” you yelled back, snapping your patience. “can’t you see i’m talking to the authorities! just stay still for five fucking minutes!”

he spat a curse, his breath hot against your neck. “do you want to be stuck here like this the entire day?! if i hadn't taken that hit for you, we wouldn't be in this mess! you're lucky i'm even touching you, you brat!”

the detective cleared his throat, looking between the two of you with a mixture of pity and amusement.

“from what we can see so far, all five of the villains captured today aren’t japanese citizens. this means their quirks are completely unregistered in our database.” the detective eyed his phone before meeting your eyes once more. “i have already informed the lab about you and dynamight’s situation. they will be analyzing the specific properties of the magnetic quirk. once we get the villains to custody, i will personally question the villain who hit you with the quirk and get more information on it.”

“for now,” the detective continued, “i will inform the hero commission that both of you are off duty. no missions, no patrols, and certainly no work at your respective agencies. you are physically incapacitated as a pair. i suggest you both go home and discuss where you will be staying. hopefully, the quirk effects will wear off on their own within twenty-four hours.”

“thank you, detective,” you said, giving a tired smile. “we appreciate the help.”

katsuki didn't thank anyone. he just growled, a low, dangerous sound in his throat, and glared at the detective as if the man had personally glued them together.

the ride back to katsuki's agency was a chaotic affair. once you arrived, you were greeted by mina and kirishima, who had been briefed on the situation. mina nearly collapsed in fits of laughter the moment she saw you two stuck together.

“oh my god!” mina squealed, pointing at you. “you guys are literally like a human sandwich! this is the most romantic thing i have ever seen in my entire professional career!”

“it is not romantic, you idiot!” katsuki screamed, his face turning a deep shade of crimson. “get over here and help us get these damn costumes off before i explode this entire building!”

the process of changing into regular clothes was a nightmare of coordination and physical strain. because you couldn't be separated by more than a few inches, you had to change in separate rooms with people literally holding you back.

mina and two of katsuki's assistants gripped your arms and waist, anchoring you to a heavy bolted table in one room, while kirishima and another sidekick did the same for katsuki in the adjacent room.

it was a grueling exercise in willpower. every time you tried to slide a shirt over your head, the magnetic pull would tug at you, threatening to launch you through the concrete wall and right back into katsuki's chest.

you were sweating, your teeth gritted as you gripped the edges of the table, your knuckles white. i can't believe this is my life right now, you thought, feeling a bead of sweat roll down your temple. i expected a calm day, and now i'm being held back like a wild animal just so i can put on a t shirt.

rom the other side of the wall, you could hear kirishima grunting, his voice strained as he fought to keep katsuki in place.

“bakugo, man, listen,” kirishima gasped, sounding completely out of breath. “i think you should just go pee or do your business in the bathroom while we're still here. i don't think you'll be able to do that once you two are back home and stuck together. there won't be anyone to pry you off each other.”

“i will kill you!” katsuki's voice boomed, followed by the sound of a small explosion. “stop talking about my bladder, shitty hair! i can handle myself!”

“it sounds stupid, but kiri is right,” mina said to you, her voice shaking from the effort of holding you still. “you might want to consider it.”

you paused, the reality of the situation sinking in. you looked at the wall separating you from the most stubborn man in japan and sighed. “fine,” you called out. “take me to the bathroom.”

after another thirty minutes of torturous maneuvering, kirishima and mina drove the two of you to katsuki's penthouse.

the car ride was an exercise in sensory overload.

katsuki had claimed the back seat, spreading himself out with his back against the door. because of the magnetic pull, you were forced to sit with your back against his front, tucked between his legs.

you tried your best to focus on the scenery passing by the window, but it was impossible to ignore the loud, frantic thumping in your chest. your face felt hot, a deep blush creeping up your neck.

you could feel every inch of him. his chest was hard and defined, digging into your shoulder blades, and his hands were firmly glued to your waist. the heat radiating from him was intense, a constant, pulsing warmth that seemed to seep through your clothes and melt your resolve.

why is he so warm? you wondered, biting your lip. and why does he always smell this intoxicating.

kirishima and mina were kind enough to make sure the two of you were settled, ordering a massive amount of food and eating with you both in the penthouse before they had to leave for their own duties. they left you two alone in the silence of the luxury apartment, the tension between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

the rest of the afternoon was spent in his bedroom, which had become a battleground for the remote control. you wanted to watch something light, something that would distract you from the fact that you were physically fused to your long time crush, but katsuki wanted to watch literally anything else.

“we are watching a rom com, katsuki,” you insisted, leaning back into him as you both sat on the bed. “come on, it will be fun. plus it'll calm you down.”

“i am not watching some garbage movie about people crying over flowers!” katsuki yelled, though his voice lacked its usual bite. “put on an action movie! something with explosions!”

“do you even need any more explosions when you are a already human bomb?” you countered, a playful smirk on your lips. “oooh! how about we watch mean girls? it's a classic.”

“i don't care if it's a damn classic! it's stupid!” he groaned, but he didn't fight you as hard as he usually would once you pressed play. he seemed exhausted by the day's events.

you wore him down with a combination of stubbornness and a few well placed pouts. eventually, he caved with a loud, dramatic sigh that sounded like he was conceding a war.

“fine! watch your stupid mean girls movie! just stop talking during it!”

you ended up lying on his bed with him (duh), the movie playing on a large screen in front of you. because of the way you were stuck, he was positioned behind you, his arms forced to wrap around your waist in a permanent spooning position. his chest was pressed firmly against your back. you could feel the steady, heavy beat of his heart matching your own.

“this is so stupid,” katsuki muttered, his voice low and husky right against your ear. “why are people so obsessed with who sits where at lunch? it's a school cafeteria. eat your fucking food and go.”

you chuckled, the sound vibrating through both of your bodies. “i don't know, katsuki, you tell me. i think you could definitely pass as a mean girl. you've got the attitude and the temper for it.”

he stiffened, his grip on your waist tightening. “what did you just say to me? i will blast you into orbit!”

you just laughed, feeling a surge of boldness. “admit it, you'd totally be the leader of the plastics. you'd just scream at everyone until they did what you wanted… which you already do. and you’re blond as well. it’s perfect casting!”

katsuki didn't yell back this time. instead, he let out a huff of air that felt like a kiss against your skin.

you weren't normally this chatty, but the proximity was making you reckless. you were desperately trying to distract yourself from the heat of his body. for hours, you had been glued together, and the friction was starting to create a feverish warmth between you. you could feel the slight dampness of his sweat against your back, the nitroglycerin scented moisture making your skin tingle.

i can't believe he hasn't blown us up yet, you thought, your heart racing.

you had carried a torch for katsuki since your second year at u.a. high. it had started as admiration for his drive and evolved into a deep, aching attraction that you had kept hidden behind jokes and professional courtesy. now, with your agencies located close to each other and your friendship deepening, the feelings had become an obsession.

you shifted your hips slightly, trying to find a more comfortable position to ease the strain of being fused to him. as you settled further back, pushing your backside against him, you felt something hard and unmistakable pressing against the curve of your butt. you froze, your breath hitching in your throat. it was his cock, already thickening through the fabric of his sleep pants.

you felt his breath hitch. the fingers that had been awkwardly and tensely gripping your waist earlier were changing. he wasn't just holding on anymore. his fingertips began to move, subtly drawing slow, rhythmic shapes on your skin, tracing the curve of your hip and the dip of your waist. the touch was almost shy, which was completely unlike the man who had spent the morning screaming at police officers.

you moved a little bit more, trying to settle in further into the bed.

katsuki let out a long, shaky breath that fanned across the nape of your neck. you felt his fingers tighten on your waist, his grip almost bruising. “stop moving,” he growled, his voice a deep, guttural vibration that resonated through your entire spine.

you knew you should stop, but a spark of mischief flared in your chest.

you shifted again, a slow, deliberate grind of your hips that pressed you deeper into his hardness. you acted innocent, humming softly as if you were still just trying to get comfortable. “i'm just trying to get settled, kats, it's a bit cramped,” you whispered, though your voice held a teasing lilt.

he let out a sound that was halfway between a groan and a snarl. you could feel him growing harder, the length of him stretching against you, hot and demanding. the heat between your bodies was becoming unbearable, a fever that blurred the lines of friendship.

“you're doing that on fucking purpose,” he hissed, his breath hot against your ear. “you like playing with fire, huh? you damn brat.”

“i don't know what you're talking about,” you replied, tilting your head back to look at him, your eyes dancing with challenge.

katsuki's restraint snapped. he shifted his weight, pushing his body more firmly onto yours, pinning you to the mattress. he leaned in, his voice dropping to a dangerous, predatory whisper. “you think you're so clever, don't you? teasing me when you know i can't even pull away from you.”

“katsuki,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“you're just a little tease, begging for me to fucking lose it.” he muttered, his words laced with a slight edge of degradation that made your stomach flip.

“maybe i am,” you breathed, your heart hammering against your ribs.

“look at me,” he commanded, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. you could feel the heat of his skin, the roughness of his tongue as he grazed your collarbone. a low moan escaped your throat, and you felt him shudder against you.

you turned your neck, straining against the magnetic pull to face him. the moment your eyes met, he crashed his lips onto yours.

the kiss was explosive, tasting of desperation and years of suppressed longing. his tongue pushed into your mouth, tasting of cinnamon and heat, sucking on your tongue with a hunger that left you lightheaded. you moaned into the kiss, your hands reaching back to tangle in his spiky blonde hair, pulling him closer even though there was nowhere left to go.

the kiss deepened, becoming wetter and more frantic. you could hear the sound of your saliva exchanging, a wet, shlicking noise that only fueled the fire in your gut. he shifted his weight, pinning you further into the mattress, his thighs sliding between yours. the friction of his trousers against your own was driving you insane.

“i can't... i can't stand this,” katsuki gasped, breaking the kiss to bite your earlobe. i want you. i want all of you.

“oh—please…” you arched your back, pressing your rear into his crotch. you could feel the hard, thick length of his cock straining against his pants, a rigid pillar of heat that was pulsing against you. you whimpered, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

he began to move, his hips grinding rhythmically into your backside as he continued to kiss your neck and shoulders. every thrust was heavy, his hardness rubbing against you through the clothes. you arched your back, grinding back into him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps of pleasure.

“k-katsuki,” you pleaded, not sure what you were begging for, but you were.

“god, you feel so good,” he muttered against your skin, his voice rough. “i've wanted to do this for so long, you stupid, beautiful idiot.”

katsuki struggled against the magnetic effect that was very much a nuisance as it was a push, his muscles straining as he fought the pull to lift his hand. he grunted with the effort, his face contorted, but he managed to slide his hand down between your legs. his fingers brushed against the damp fabric of your underwear, finding the heat of your pussy.

“ha—! kats…” you squirmed at the sudden pressure.

“you're already wet,” he chuckled, a dark, triumphant sound. “look at you, soaking through your clothes for me.” he began to play with you, his fingers circling your clit through the cloth of your pants, sending jolts of electricity through your nerves.

you whined, your head tossing back against his shoulder. “katsuki, please,” you begged, your voice trembling.

he was impatient, the hunger in his eyes mirroring your own. he didn't want to waste another second with fabric between you. with a sudden, violent surge of strength, he gripped the waistband of your bottoms and tore them. the sound of fabric ripping filled the room, a sharp crack that made you gasp. he didn't stop there, his hands moving to your top, ripping the material away with a focused aggression, fighting the magnetic pull that tried to snap him back.

“be patient, damn it,” he growled like a hypocrite. he slid his hand down, his fingers diving into your wetness. you were already soaking, your juices coating his fingers as he slid them through your folds. he let out a low whistle, his voice thick with lust. “hah! not only are you a tease and impatient as fuck, you're also so fucking wet for me, aren't you?”

“yes, m’sorry… just please,” you breathed out, tilting your head back.

katsuki didn’t need to be told twice. he found your clit and began to rub it with a punishing intensity, his fingers sliding deep inside you. the sensation was overwhelming, the friction of his skin against your walls creating a wet, squelching sound that filled the silence.

“k-kats—hah…” you called out his name, your body squirming against his touch, your muscles clamping tight around his fingers.

“mmh?” he nipped lightly at your shoulder, his other hand moving up to cup your breast through your blouse, his thumb finding your nipple and rubbing it to a hard peak. “tell me this is wrong. tell me to stop.” his voice was a dark challenge.

you arched back into him instinctively, pushing your ass more firmly against his hardness. a low groan rumbled from his chest. “it doesn’t… f-feel wrong,” you managed, your own voice husky. “f-feels so good…”

katsuki was losing it as much as you were, he was just good at hiding it. he was breathing hard, his chest heaving. he gripped his own clothes, his muscles bulging as he fought the magnetic force one last time to rip his pants and underwear away. as soon as he was free, the magnet slammed his bare body back against yours with a heavy thud.

the feeling of his bare cock grinding against your bare behind was almost too much to bear. he was huge, hot, and leaking pre-cum that lubricated the space between you.

“sh-hiiiit…” you breathed, eyes rolling from the weight of his bare cock behind you.

“yeah?” he cut in ruthlessly, his hand squeezing your breast, his hips grinding again in a rhythm that was becoming unmistakable. “found the opportunity and started grinding your ass into me like this,” he rocked against you, the friction deliciously maddening. “you’re such a fucking tease. always been f’me, huh? you get everything little thing you want, don’t ya?”

“ngh, no m’not—” you moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder. “you’re the one… who’s being a tease. katsuki, please…”

“hm? what’s wrong?” he taunted softly, biting your earlobe. “please what, baby? tell me. what happened to your damn confidence now, huh?” his long fingers curled deeper inside you, the slick wet on his fingers.

“oh—mmh, yeah… just like that, k-kats,” you gasped, bucking against his touch.

“you hear yourself?” he fucked you harder with his finger before adding another, his thumb finding your and rubbing in tight circles. you cried out, your hand struggling against the magnet as it flew back to clutch at his thigh. “so fucking wet and loud—mmm’fuuuck.”

katsuki was grinding against you relentlessly now, his cock hard and demanding against your ass, his fingers working magic through your slit. the friction between you was building a frantic heat low in your belly. your breath came in ragged pants that matched his own.

“w-want it— shiiit. katsuki, please. i want you inside me. want you so bad,” you begged again, the thought of him fragmented by pleasure.

“god fucking dammit, you beg so pretty f’me,” he growled, his voice guttural with need. he pressed his face into your neck, inhaling deeply. “been wanting this for so long.” he pulled his soaked fingers out of your pussy making you whine at the emptiness. he didn't need to be told twice. he positioned himself, the head of his cock probing the entrance of your heat. he pushed forward slowly. “fuuuuck… you feel good,” a low growl ripping from his throat as your tight walls gripped him.

you whined, the feeling of him filling you up stretching you to your limit. he was thick, far thicker than you had imagined, and the sensation of him sliding deep into your cervix made your toes curl. you arched violently, a loud moan tearing from your throat as pleasure spiked through you. “oh god! katsuki!”

katsuki began to move, his thrusts rhythmic and powerful. because of the magnetic bond, he couldn't pull away completely, which meant every thrust was deep, hitting your most sensitive spots with punishing accuracy. the sound of your bodies colliding filled the room, a rhythmic squelching noise as his cock slid in and out of your drenched pussy.

shlick, squelch, shlick.

“that’s it, baby,” katsuki purred against your skin, his fingers kept pressure on your clit, circling it around while his hips never stopped moving “take it. take what you’ve always wanted from me.”

“fuck yeah. yeah, right there…” you were full on begging and purring now as you moved your hips meeting his thrust, the pleasure overwhelming your senses. you could feel the sweat from his chest dripping onto your back, mixing with the fluids of your union. he was panting, his breath coming in short, jagged bursts against your ear.

“look at you—fuck. made for me”, he groaned, his voice breaking. i'm going to ruin you. he increased the pace, his movements becoming more overzealous. in his desperation to get deeper, his cock slipped out of you for a fraction of a second, only to slam back in with a wet thud that made you cry out. the sound of air being pushed out of your pussy created a loud, popping noise that only made him more aggressive.

“m’don’t think… gonna last looong—oh! yes, fuck! harder, katsuki!”

“come on then,” katsuki commanded, his voice rough with strain. he bit down on your shoulder blade. “cum for me. show me how good it feels when i finally touch you like this.” he curled his fingers harder, pressed his thumb down fiercely. “let go for me, you slut. let me feel you cum around me.”

he gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, leaving red marks that you knew you would cherish tomorrow. he was hammering into you now, his balls slapping rhythmically against your ass, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.

you felt your orgasm building, a tidal wave of heat that started in your toes and surged upward. “katsuki!” you screamed, your muscles clamping down on him in a series of violent contractions.

“fuck, i’m close,” he growled against your skin, his hips bucking up, driving his cock impossibly deeper where your bodies joined.

the feeling of your pussy pulsing around him was the final straw. “god fucking damn it! mgghfuuuck…” he let out a roar, his body stiffening as he shot his seed deep inside you. you could feel the hot, thick spurts of his cum hitting your cervix, filling you up until you felt like you were overflowing. he groaned, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from the peak.

katsuki breathed heavily, his heart racing. he suddenly gripped your waist. “turn around,” he commanded. “face me.”

“i can't, kats, the magnet,” you panted from your orgasm, trying to shift.

“fight it,” he growled, his voice regaining its dominant edge. “i want to see your face when i fuck you again. fight the damn thing.”

that was all the motivation you needed. you both gritted your teeth, straining against the invisible force. you pushed away from him, your muscles screaming, and with his help, you managed to swivel. for a second, you were almost face to face, before the magnet snapped you both back together with a loud groan, your bodies slamming into each other.

he didn't let you settle. he strained his muscle against the pull and manhandled you, flipping you over so you were on properly top of him. he gripped your hips, pulling you down as he entered you again.

you looked down at him, your eyes locking with his vermillion ones, the intimacy of the gaze making the pleasure of him inside you feel ten times more intense. “katsuki, baby.”

“that's it,” he whispered, his hands digging into your ass. “take it all.”

you tried your best to ride him, your breasts bouncing, your breath coming in ragged whines. he reached up, pulling you down, your lips meeting his. it was messy, your tongues dancing in a feverish rhythm, the taste of salt and desire filling your mouths. eventually, you collapsed onto his chest unable to fight the pull of the magnet, your face tucked into the crook of his neck. he took over, doing all the work, lifting his hips to drive deep into you.

“ngghh—oh, fuck,” you whined, your fingers clutching at his shoulders, your skin slick with sweat. “please, katsuki, harder,” you begged.

“shut up and take what i give you, brat,” katsuki replied, though his voice was thick with affection. he began to fuck you with a renewed aggression, the sounds of your bodies interacting becoming more visceral.

the squelching of your joined heat and the heavy thud of his chest against yours created a symphony of lust. he gripped the back of you neck, lightly squeezing, the sensation that only pushed you further over the edge, making you clench tighter around him.

“m’gonna cum again… baby, pleeeease—oh, make me cum,” you choked out a moan, your body tightening as you felt another orgasm building.

“fucking hell, baby, ya gonna milk me dry, huh?” he snarled, bucking his hips up, his hands clamping onto your ass. “yeah? just like that. scream like that. let everyone in the building hear you scream through the fucking walls.”

you moaned loudly, your body still trembling from your orgasm as he began to move inside you again. “agh! f-fuck—kats… m’cuming” you threw your head back.

“cum with me,” he commanded. “fuck, do it now.”

you screamed as you peaked, your internal muscles squeezing him tightly. katsuki let out a guttural roar, his body stiffening as he came deep inside you, his release filling you again with warmth.

the room fell silent, the only sound being your labored breathing. you stayed in that position for a long time, the sweat cooling on your skin. for a long time, neither of you spoke. you were both covered in a mixture of sweat and fluids, the scent of sex and nitroglycerin filling the room.

“does mean you actually like me? or do you just let anyone fuck you?” you broke the silence, your voice clearly teasing and mischievous to get under his skin.

katsuki scoffed, though he didn't move his arm from around you (not that he can). “tch. whatever the hell that means. i don’t even like when other people breathe close to me. what else would this nonsense mean?”

“is that your way of being romantic? because calling what we just did just now ‘nonsense’ is a bit low… even from you,” you teased.

“shut up,” he muttered, his ears turning a bright shade of red. “… listen, tomorrow… or whenever the fuck. after this damn quirk wears off. you're going out to dinner with me.”

“wait, as in a date?” you snapped your head up from his neck to look at him only for the stupid magnet to slam you back down his chest with a thud.

“stop fucking moving—and it's not a big deal,” katsuki snapped, holding you tighter almost subconsciously. “i just don't want you starving to death because you're too clumsy to feed yourself. just say yes, damn it.”

you giggled, kissing his chest. “yes, katsuki. i'd love to go on a date with you.”

“stop pushing it!”

after a couple more yells from katsuki, you both fell asleep in each other's arms, the magnetic effects of the villains quirk finally feeling like something you wanted to keep.

the next morning, the shrill ring of a phone shattered the silence.

katsuki groaned, his eyes fluttering open. you stirred on his chest, your face nuzzling into his neck, half-asleep and warm. he reached out with one hand to pick up the phone, his other arm cradling the back of your head. as he moved, he paused.

he felt his hand slide away from you without any resistance. there was no pull, no snap, no invisible force. he moved his arm further, realizing that the magnetic effect had worn out.

“what?!” he barked into the phone.

it was the detective from the previous day. the man's voice was professional but held a hint of amusement.

he informed katsuki that they had finally identified the specific nature of the villain's quirk.

“upon further investigations and quirk research through quick blood samples, we received word back from the lab. the villain confirmed it himself not long after. his quirk allows him to make someone he hits with the magnet physically stuck to the person they desire the most. after the questioning, we were told that the effects should wear off after a day, so the two of you should be good by now.”

katsuki froze, the phone still pressed to his ear. physically stuck to the person they desire the most.

you, who had been now awake and listening, began to snicker against his skin. you looked up at him, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “you know, katsuki, you didn't really have to take the hit for me after all.” you whispered, “if the quirk works that way, we would have ended up stuck together regardless of who got hit.”

katsuki stared at the ceiling, his face flushing a deep crimson. he slowly hung up the phone and pulled you closer, his grip firm. “whatever,” he muttered, though he couldn't hide the small, satisfied smile on his lips. “just shut up and go back to sleep, brat.”

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