you were already pissed before sukuna even pushed you down on the mattress. it started stupid, like it always did—him leaving his shit everywhere, the kind of careless little habits that stacked up in your chest until you snapped. his boots were right in the middle of the living room where you’d tripped over them twice, jacket balled on the couch, wrappers on the counter like the trash was a mile away.
you’d asked him to clean it up three times but he just lit a cigarette and muttered something about you being “naggy,” and walked away.
so when he crowded you against the bed, heavy frame pressing you down like you weighed nothing, the first words out of your mouth were sharp as glass.
“you never listen to me.”
he rolled his eyes and that made your blood almost boil. “stop bitchin’. jesus christ, you’re always complaining about something,” his voice was low and dismissive.
“don’t dismiss me like that!” you shoved at him, palms flat against his chest, but he barely budged. his tattoos shifting over his chest as he leaned down.
“what? you mad over some boots on the floor?” his head tilted like he couldn’t believe you were serious. “that’s the big fight?”
“it’s not just that!” your throat burned, eyes stinging from more than just anger. “you never take me seriously. ever. i say something and it’s like talking to a wall.”
“oh, here we go again.” he just smirked, his weight pressing heavier between your thighs. “y’know, i think you’re more sexy when you open your mouth for moaning and nothin’ else.”
you opened your mouth to curse him out, but his cock was already pressing against your entrance, sliding slow over how wet you already were and you hated yourself for it.
“ryo—don’t touch me when i’m talking, you bastard!” you hissed, even though your hips twitched at his drag.
“y’know what? forget what i said, you sound real fuckin’ cute when you’re mad.” and with one hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, the breath rushed out of your lungs in a broken cry.
your legs jerked up, curling around his waist without you meaning to.
“what?” he mocked, pulling back just to slam forward again, the sound of your bodies smacking together sharp in the quiet room. “you gonna break up with me over dirty laundry, princess?”
“yeah.” you clung to his shoulders, nails already biting. “maybe i will.”
his grin dropped. he grabbed your chin in his tattooed hand, forcing your eyes open as his hips worked deep and steady. “yeah? and this what a breakup looks like? you cryin’ on my dick, takin’ every inch while you whine?”
“fuck you—”
“already doin’ that, baby.” he rocked into you harder, the head of his cock dragging against the spot that made your back arch. “say it again. tell me you’re leavin’ me. lemme hear it while i’m balls-deep inside you.”
your lip trembled from the burn of pleasure coiling tight in your gut. “see?! you don’t take me serious—” you whispered, voice breaking over the moan you couldn’t swallow.
“nah,” he leaned close, mouth brushing your cheek, his voice was rough. “i think i take this pussy very seriously. every time i’m inside, you forget whatever dumb shit you were yellin’ about.”
“you’re such an asshole,” you gasped, nails dragging angry red lines down his back.
“and you’re still spreadin’ your legs for me.” his thumb pressed hard against your clit, circling rough, making your thighs jolt. “tell me i’m lying.”
“s’kuna—”
“tell me i’m lying, baby, c’mon,” his tone snapped sharp, demanding and his hips hammered down faster. “tell me you aren’t enjoying being fucked dumb on my cock.”
you broke, voice spilling high and raw. “die.”
“yeahhhh, keep talking like that, i’m close.” his grin was feral, his forehead pressing to yours. “c’mon, baby, say it. say you fuckin’ love this cock too much to leave.”
your eyes blurred, frustration mixing with tears. “i hate you.”
“you hate how much you need me.” his pace turned brutal, pelvis grinding against your clit every time he bottomed out. “hate how your pussy grabs me like it’s beggin’ me to stay. feel that? you’re squeezin’ the life outta me.”
you moaned, biting down hard on his shoulder, clinging despite yourself. your body betrayed every word
“you don’t fucking listen, ever,” you panted again, voice trembling as your thighs shook.
“i’m listenin’ now.” his voice was a low growl, breath hot and ragged in your ear. “and all i hear is your pretty cunt cryin’ my name and beggin’ for more. that’s the only talk that matters right now.”
“that’s not—fuck—” your head tipped back as he slammed deeper, the bed frame groaning under the force.
“not what? not fair?” his laugh was harsh, cruel, teeth flashing as he looked down at you wrecked under him. “life’s not fair, sweetheart. and you? you ain’t leavin’ me. not when you cum this hard on my cock.”
his hand left your chin, wrapping around your throat just enough to hold you still and to make your eyes flutter open and lock with his.
“look at me when you say it. tell me you’re breakin’ up with me.” his hips snapped harder, rougher, driving every word into you. “say it while i’m stretchin’ this pussy out.”
your body shivered, pleasure tearing at the edges of your anger. “i—i hate you,” you whispered, voice breaking.
“then fuckin’ hate me.” he fucked into you faster, every thrust a punishment, his thumb pressing even more harder on your clit. “hate me while i’m deep inside, makin’ you cum like no one else ever will.”
your moans pitched higher.
then he saw it, he felt it and his grin turned sharp as a knife. “that’s it. break on me. show me how bad you wanna ‘break up.’ cum on this dick like the needy little slut you are.”
your body gave out, the orgasm crashing hard, clenching him so tight he cursed.
“fuck, fuck, fuck—” you sobbed, nails clawing his back bloody as your thighs shook.
“good fuckin’ girl,” he groaned, thrusting through your release, sweat dripping from his temple onto your skin. “goddamn, you feel too fuckin’ good. gonna fill you up, make sure you remember who the fuck you belong to.”
the words slipped out weak while you were still trembling, “i hate you—”
he laughed before spilling hot thick cum inside you, hips jerking as he pumped you full. “yeah, keep sayin’ that while you’re stuffed with my cum.” he kissed the side of your jaw, his breath heavy. “we both know you ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
he collapsed onto the bed next to you then, chest heaving, sweat dripping down his neck, cock still soft inside you. he rolled onto his side and nudged you gently with his shoulder.
“oi, look at me,” sukuna murmured, his voice softer now.
you turned your head away, pressing your face into the pillow. “no. i hate you,” you muttered, trying to hold onto your anger.
he chuckled, brushing a damp strand of hair off your forehead. “i love you too.”
“shut up,” you snapped, nuzzling further into the sheets. “no. i hate you. you’re awful.”
he laughed, leaning over to press a kiss at the curve of your neck. “stop hating me for two seconds, yeah? you’re shaking.”
“i’m not—” your denial was weak, trembling slightly against him. you huffed, staying stubborn, even though your body still buzzed from the aftershocks. “i’m fine. really. stop talking.”
he leaned closer, slipping his hands under your shoulders to turn your head toward him, forcing you to meet his gaze. then he kissed you.
you sighed, pressing against him, finally letting a little of the tension slip away. “i still hate you,” you mumbled again.
“mh,” he murmured, pulling you close. “bet you do.”
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In which you love to watch Neighbour!Choso jerk off 18+
Neighbour!Choso who pounds away on his bass with his brothers at ungodly hours, the whole garage rattling like it’s about to collapse, the walls trembling with noise while the rest of the neighbourhood curses his entire family’s existence. He doesn’t care — in fact, the louder the complaints, the louder he plays.
Neighbour!Choso who’s all piercings and tattoos, hot in a way that feels unfair. His window sits right across from yours, and you’ve caught yourself looking, more than once, when he strips off his shirt without bothering to close the curtains. And really, is it your fault if he doesn’t seem to mind being watched?
Neighbour!Choso who is none the wiser when you realise he has a healthy sexual appetite, sitting on his bed and jerking off like clockwork at 3am without fail — when his band finally gives it a rest and he has time to himself. He shrugs off his tight black shirt, revealing chiselled abs and a happy trail you can see all the way from your house. His Calvin Klein hangs low, band visible from his ripped jeans.
Ringed hand is brought up to his lips where he crudely spits onto his fingers before he creeps it into his jeans. Curtains carefully split just enough for one eye, you continue watching, ashamed but so turned on. After all, you’ve had a crush on this guy since forever, finding his bad boy aesthetic so lip-biting and his brooding nature panty-dropping. Just barely, you see him throw his head back, a flush growing on his bare chest and climbing up his slender neck. Frustrated by the tight constraints of jeans and boxers, you can only assume, he tugs his cock out.
You gasp.
It’s long, thick and pink in the prettiest way. His hand moves furiously, up and down, up, down, up, down, circling the head, up and down, thumbing the slit, massaging his balls, pinching his nipples, up and down, up and down, and dropping a fat drop of spit on his cockhead.
“Oh god…” You mutter, breathless and unblinking. “Is that a piercing on his tip? Jesus…”
When he cums, it’s with a long moan and a back arch, abs clenching hard. Thick white ropes of cum spurts all over his torso, dirtying his body. He pants, slowly jerking the last drops out of his cock before he falls back onto his bed, content to fall asleep in his own mess. You shut the curtains and stay up all night with your fingers in your own pants.
Neighbour!Choso who sometimes knocks at your door with cake or other sweet treats that his parents made just for you and your family. He brings little Yuji when he can and lingers by the door longer than he needs to, leaning against the door frame, arms crossed and pig-tailed hair ruffling with his head tilt. Features sharp, a small smile plays on his lips as he listens to you ramble about your time at college and how happy you are to be back for the summer.
“I’m happy you’re back too.”
Flustered and not bothering to hide your glee, you ask, “Really?”
“Yeah, ‘course. Missed having an audience when I jerk off to you.” With that one sentence, he renders you speechless, jaw dropping to the floor. He chuckles, two fingers pressing to your chin to shut your lips together. “Hope your family likes the chocolate cake. I added a special ingredient just for you.”
Neighbour!Choso winks and waves goodbye, silver rings glinting, ushering Yuji away and retreating home. That evening, you don’t peek like you usually do, too embarrassed and guilty. But the next morning, when you brave one, just one, look, you’re gobsmacked to find a sheet of paper taped to his window. It spells out,
Don’t get shy on me now. It hurts my feelings :(
A basic but classic trope. Although, if I was reader, my curtains would be wide open and we'd be having a jerk off. If he wins he's eating my ass and if he loses, I peg his
pairings: baby daddy!Geto x f!Reader x coworker!Nanami
content: mdni, smut and fluff, modern coworker au, domestic fluff, happy family life, body changes after birth, confessions, soft sex, suguru is so in love, happy ending
"He looks like you," you murmured, twisting a soft strand of dark hair around your finger while your son slept in your arms.
Not all that long ago, you had been terrified at the idea of having a child exactly like him. Now?
It made you smile, tracing over the cute little nose, squishing his chubby cheek between your fingers just lightly enough he wouldn't stir. Four months old, learning how to laugh and roll over, occupying your time and your heart whether or not you were holding him.
Suguru leaned over, his own thick locks tied up in a loose bun as he hummed at his child. Scooping him up from you, somehow managing not to wake him as he cradled him close to his chest and brought him over to his crib before placing him down. He was good at that. Better at being a dad than you would've believed a year ago. He held his hand out to touch him before hesitating, deciding against risking waking him before whispering, "He has your eyebrows."
You raised one, hanging by the doorframe while he walked over to you, ready to scoff at him before Suguru stole a kiss to shut you up.
It was soft, quick, like he'd done it without thinking. Just pressing his mouth against yours, all gentle and sweet. As if you were a real couple.
"Suguru," You breathed his name, glancing from his lips up to his eyes.
You wanted another one. Was that wrong to ask for?
He wasn't exactly your boyfriend, not a lover either. But you were in his bed, holding his baby, his cologne sticking to your skin and his conditioner in your hair.
Too aware of the space you weren't sure you wanted anymore lingering in between you, tempted to bridge the gap, to turn it into skin on skin.
Suguru saw the weight in your stare, the questions you couldn't ask, the words you wanted to say.
"You want to kiss me," He accused, and your mouth fell open.
"I-" You started, your throat going dry as you sucked in another short inhale.
"It's okay," He smiled softly, leaning in closer. "I want to kiss you more."
You almost laughed.
It used to bother you how often he was right. That despite being annoying and awful and a million other frustrating things, he was never wrong.
Hate and love had always been closer than you thought.
And what you felt right now?
Well, you guessed it wasn't so bad to start falling for someone like him when he was already head over heels for you.
You'd been pretending not to notice. Or rather, lying to yourself that it wasn't real. That he was just being nice, or making up for his past bad behavior, just paying penance for being a dickhead.
But it was in the way he looked at you, in how he listened and remembered every little detail you mentioned and mumble. In the softness of his touch, the tenderness in his fingertips when they grazed over your skin.
"Are you going to do it?" You dared, and his quiet laugh was enough to make your stomach flutter instead of churn.
His second kiss was even sweeter.
And somehow, he'd ended up dragging you back to his couch. His hands under your shirt, touching your body with the same reverence that had gotten you into this in the first place.
Suguru didn't mind that you changed. That you were softer now, more curves, left with stretch marks and swollen breasts, new aches that were more than just physical.
You weren't the same person you'd been before you were pregnant.
But you learned to accept he loved both versions of you.
You still bit your lip when he went to pull your shirt over your head, trying to cover your stomach with your hand before he pinned it down, gave you that slightly lopsided smirk that made you melt.
"Let me see you, baby," He murmured.
"A-are you-" You paused, but he leaned down and left a kiss where his son had been just a few months ago.
"If you knew how long I've been dreaming about you, you wouldn't be asking," He chuckled, and you slowly nodded.
Searching his face for disappointment when he stripped you down and only finding worship instead.
He made sure to show you just how much he meant it with his mouth. Trailing down your body, leaving bites and bruises blossoming over your throat and chest, unable to resist the temptation to at least taste your breast milk before going back to what he'd meant to.
Lapping at your cunt and your clit, spreading your thighs and stretching you open before finally shoving his cock in with slow, steady strokes. Taking his time, constantly checking in even when he was buried to the hilt with your legs wrapped around his waist.
"If it's too much-" He murmured, loose bangs hanging in his face.
"Suguru," You whined his name, wiggling to get him to fuck you faster, but he just chewed on the inside of his cheek. Dark brows knitted together tightly, choking on his self-restraint.
"Don't say my name like that," He groaned, cock throbbing inside you.
"You know," You started, thighs tensing as you brushed his bangs back and carressed his cheek. "I've been waiting for you too."
You'd done all the steps wrong. Took a few turns you shouldn't have. But you still ended up here.
Still found your way to him.
And you both apparently learned your lesson now - given that he managed to pull out in time, cumming on your stomach instead of inside you, prominant veins bulging across the back of his hand as he stroked his cock and let it spill over your skin, a few stray droplets spilling on the couch you'd make him clean later.
He made you finish first seconds later, your brain foggy and fuzzy as you murmured something that almost sounded like a proposal when his other thumb started rubbing smooth circles on your clit, careful patterns to make you cum just as hard as he did.
It took him a few seconds to process what you said, and even longer for you to realize what it was, seeing the surprise register in his warm eyes, his lips still all glossy when they parted.
"Did you just ask me to marry you?"
You tried to take it back.
But you still ended up with an engagement ring on your finger a few months later, a save-the-date stuck to your fridge on magnets set for the next spring.
Enough time for your son to be able to toddle down the aisle with a couple rings.
For now though, he was still confined to a stroller while you went shopping.
You settled into domesticity.
Into this new life where you found contentment in coming home from work to a pretty man and his pretty baby, both of them waiting with grabby hands and big smiles.
You'd almost forgotten how you'd gotten here.
Until a blond stranger bumped into you on the street.
"Hello," Nanami awkwardly greeted, nodding towards you. He looked exhausted. Lips pulled into a thin frown, his shoulders tight, tense. His hazel stare lingering on your face too long before shifting down to the stroller you were pushing - and the dark-haired baby babbling inside of it.
You didn't bother with a goodbye.
Just ignored him, pretending you hadn't even heard him. Planning on continuing to the store you were supposed to meet Suguru at. But Nanami persisted.
"I'm sorry."
"I don't want your apology," You muttered, pushing your stroller past him.
You didn't need excuses. Some sob story about a cousin or a sister or a friend. Didn't want to hear about how he was wronged however long ago.
"I know. It's just, I regret-"
"What? Pretending to care about me? Or just that I found out?" You snapped, feeling his arm graze against yours. You wanted to recoil. To take a shower and burn the shirt you were wearing.
"I do care," He said it like there was any piece of you that would ever believe him. "I never wanted to hurt you."
"You really never considered that hurting him would hurt me too?" You bluntly asked.
Nanami never considered you at all.
"Everything was always about him."
You stopped on the sidewalk, head swiveling back to level him in a hard stare.
"I really liked you," You muttered, not exactly bitter anymore. Just tinged with that same sadness that stuck around in your chest every time you thought about him. "I would've chosen you, y'know? Before all the bullshit."
He looked like he had never fully thought of that.
Like he was just seeing the situation for what it was.
That in some other life, if he hadn't been the one making it about Suguru, about his need to climb some social ladder, about his perception of right and wrong, that he could've had someone who put him first.
It was his loss.
You never needed him to begin with.
Leaving Nanami wasn't hard. You had to leave your old self behind already. But change wasn't all bad.
Hadn't you gotten a fiancé out of it after all?
Suguru was waiting for you outside of the double doors of the store, a lazy smile on his lips and a pretty glint in his eyes as he jogged over to meet you, taking the stroller and slinging an arm around your waist.
"I missed you."
a/n: welp i hope you guys enjoyed this series <3 i love and appreciate every single one of you and all of your support on this one
track sixteen: everyone here wants you | prev track< | setlist
vip or photo pit, who's gonna fuck or get fucked over at everyone's favorite music festival?
synopsis: your best friend has always been an asshole - whether it's in his band or in his bed. him ditching you? nothing new. but when one bedroom door closes, another one opens
pairings: rockstar!Suguru Geto x f!Reader x childhood fwb!Sukuna
content: mdni, angst and fluff! HEAVY PINING, him and Sukuna both want us back bad, reminiscing/nostalgia, messy relationships, complicated feelings, emotional turmoil, reader repressing feelings, everyone trying to repair relationships lol, kissing and making out, heavy petting, multiple povs, drinking and partying, jealousy
a/n: apologies to any typos/autocorrect i missed this was a LONG one to edit lol
He was going to strangle Gojo.
Like, until his face turned purple and his eyes started to bulge.
Here you were, on top of him, looking at him like he was more than just a dirty part of your past, lips parted all pretty for him and thighs spread across his abs, tensing as you started to glance over your shoulder. And Sukuna was so fucking tired of sharing you.
One of his hands slipped out from under your shirt, cupping your cheek and pulling you down again. Just one more kiss. Something to save. To keep for himself even if it didn't happen again.
Before you could regret it and regret him.
You kissing him back was more than he could ever ask for. More than he deserved. And he was still greedy enough to wish for more, to hope that this wasn't the last time.
"I swear, if you guys are ignoring me-" Another knock.
You cringed, but Sukuna managed to press a second kiss to your nose before you pulled away.
He missed you. Missed the way your skin was always so warm underneath his hands. How it seemed to meld to him, even softer than he remembered. How easy it was to make your face flush, how cute you looked biting your lip and squinting when you couldn't decide what to do.
If it was up to him, he'd just cover your mouth with kisses to muffle any sound until Gojo gave up and went back to his own floor. But then you were getting up, holding out a hand to help him out.
Sukuna didn't need it. But he'd take any excuse you gave him to touch you.
"One second," you called out, the tiniest bit out-of-breath, looking at Sukuna with big eyes. Ones that shimmered and silently asked if it looked like you were having sex, pupils half-blown and lips slightly swollen.
He wanted a photo.
Wanted to burn that expression in his brain.
"Do I look okay? Not, like-"
"Gorgeous," He grumbled. Breathed.
Sukuna had spent the past few years (well, the last decade) burying every thought like that. Digging himself into a deeper grave every time he shut down his own chances to claim you, to call it what it was.
His career was just a cheap distraction.
An excuse to occupy his time, to keep his mind and attention away from the one thing that ever really mattered. That could change his plans. Distract him from the life he kept trying to tell himself he was building.
He wished he could just pretend that it had been you from the start. That he'd gone down this path thinking you were the prize at the end of it. But it wasn't quite true. He just always thought you'd be walking down it with him.
Sukuna supposed that had always been the problem.
He never realized your place by his side wasn't permanent - or that you might pick someone else. You were back now, but it wasn't the same. He wasn't sure what was scarier - the fact that it might not ever go back to being like that, or he didn't want it to be.
He didn't mind begging you for scraps of what you used to give him freely. But the terrifying notion that it might never be good enough, that he'd never be good enough and one day you'd figured that out for yourself, it had started to scratch under his skin, creep into every little exchange.
"You're full of-" You started to whisper back, huffing at him before he shut you up with the last kiss he'd get tonight.
Sukuna had performed what? A thousand or so shows by now? In bars and on big stages? Got drunk and did drugs he knew he shouldn't do just because someone passed them to him?
And still, this was the highest he'd ever been.
Drunk on the feeling of your skin and your muffled breath and the barely audible whine you let out before he forced himself to pull away.
Just a drop of you divinity would have to be enough to satisfy him. For now, at least. Maybe forever if you decided this was a mistake too. If you were both really better off as friends.
It would be torture.
A fitting punishment for being such a fucking fool for so long.
He watched you look at the door, sucking on your bottom lip all pretty.
"Answer the door," Sukuna grunted, walking over to the bathroom to shut himself inside. Flip the lock and try to get his dick to go down in his pants. It was painfully hard, straining in his boxers after just a few kisses from you, pre-cum probably already leaking through the fabric.
He'd let you do the dirty work of making up something to tell Gojo.
Although, he hoped you'd just tell him the truth.
That this time around, everyone would know who he belonged to.
"Hi, Satoru," You greeted, but your voice was strained, half a pitch too high.
If he knew you better, he would've picked up on it. Sukuna did.
"He here?" Gojo huffed at you, and you just huffed back at him.
"In the bathroom," You confessed, and Sukuna felt his face heating up as he flicked the light on since you already admitted he was inside. "Why?"
"Just a technical question," Gojo hummed, and he could already picture what was happening on the other side of the door.
Gojo getting annoyingly close to you. His hand touching your arm or your shoulder or your cheek. A hip bumping into yours. You rolling your eyes without actually getting irritated with him.
"Think he can hear us in there?" Gojo abruptly asked, and Sukuna's hand was already reaching for the fucking knob.
"Dunno," You casually said, suspicion creeping into your voice. Curiosity. "Why?"
"There's, uh, some other stuff about Manami I didn't get to tell you back there," Gojo admitted.
Who the fuck was Manami? And why the hell did it matter?
Your silence didn't answer either.
Sukuna wished he could see your face. Wanted to know what you were thinking, if you were upset.
"So say it." No, you weren't upset. It was a quiver of anger. Premature annoyance at whatever he hadn't said, whatever conclusion you already jumped to.
"Part of the reason Suguru was able to fire her was because she was tracking all of our phones," He muttered, and Sukuna had the feeling he was hearing stuff he shouldn't. "Like, our locations and stuff."
But the idea that this Manami was basically stalking your ex-boyfriend and the rest of his band to the extent that she had all their information - and probably yours by proxy - it wasn't just irritating. It was infuriating.
"She can't just-"
"She did," Gojo begrudgingly grumbled. "I saw Suguru try to text you about it, but I figured you probably had him blocked. I mean, I don't think she had any of your stuff, but just, um, maybe get a new phone?"
"I fucking hate her," You muttered, a raw nerve exposed in the tiny crack in your curse.
"Yeah, you're not the only one," Gojo dryly laughed.
"Do you think she had access to, uh, anything else?" You sounded nervous. Like you were talking around what you actually meant.
"No," He answered too quickly.
"Suguru," You still said his name softly, too sweet for Sukuna's taste. "Is he-"
"He's been busy doing what he does best," Gojo grunted. "Damage control."
Whatever it was, you were both on the same page.
And Sukuna really fucking loathed the feeling Gojo knew something about you he didn't. That you shared different pieces of yourself with him you didn't want Sukuna to see.
There were three loud knocks on the door. Shadows underneath the door, too big to be your feet, the wood creaking under Gojo's weight as he leaned against it.
"You done jerkin' off in there or what?"
Somehow, that didn't end up being Gojo's worst offense of the night.
He didn't even have a technical question to ask.
Just cocked his head to the side with a slow blink, shrugging his shoulder and claiming he forgot.
Sukuna wasn't stupid.
Gojo was just here to try and cockblock him.
He just couldn't decide whether the idiot was doing it for himself or his friend. Doubted he even knew.
"You guys don't mind if I hang out in here, right?" He was looking at you though, throwing his prettiest smile he usually saved for magazines and photoshoots. "I get nervous the night before a show."
"Sure," you mumbled, pulling out your phone and looking at it instead of either of them. "Wanna order room service or something?"
Gojo didn't catch any of the million goddamn hints over the next six hours to get out and go back to his place.
Well, judging by the stupid fucking smirk on his face every time he leaned in to offer you a refill or a slice of his pizza, or to change the channel just for an excuse to not leave your couch.
You yawned, eyes starting to close, head slumping back on Sukuna's shoulder for a few seconds, dozing off until Gojo accidentally turned the volume up a few notches and you snapped back upright.
"Sleepy, sweetheart?" Gojo teased, one of his arms thrown over the back of the couch behind you.
It might be a little bit of a stretch, but Sukuna was pretty sure he could throw a punch from here, even with you between them.
A thick vein was pulsing across his forehead. Fingers flexing into a fist before relaxing as you yawned again and stood up.
"You guys should be too," You murmured, unzipping your suitcase and pulling out a pair of pajamas which only consisted of shorts and a t-shirt that could've been his or your ex's.
He hoped it was his.
"Guess so," Gojo groaned, getting up off the couch after you, turning off the tiny tv the room came with. "My room's down the hall."
Sukuna tried not to roll his eyes.
Gojo probably paid extra to make that happen. He turned, blue eyes sly as he tilted his chin to the side. "You comin'?"
"Whatever," Sukuna grumbled.
It was better if Gojo thought he was in his room, crashing in bed. He'd just come back once the coast was clear.
And hope you were still awake.
You leaned against your door watching them leave though, hand up in a pretty wave, your eyes on him. "Night, Kuna."
"Good night," He grumbled back like he wouldn't be at your door fifteen minutes later.
It actually took him almost thirty to change in his room and work up the courage to stand outside your door and knock on it.
Waiting for you to answer was worse, foot tapping on the floor while he heard the faint sound of shuffling inside.
"One second," Your voice was quiet.
What was one more when he'd been waiting months just for the opportunity to be on the other side of the door?
Did he look like a moron through the peep hole? Like an idiot hoping for something that would never happen?
You opened the door though, and he forgot what he was thinking.
"Couldn't sleep?" You asked, looking up at him like you knew whatever his answer was would just be covering up why he was really there.
"Yeah," He grunted.
"Wanna come in?" You followed it up, and he wasn't positive what you wanted him to say.
"Yeah."
You moved aside, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you let him in. It fell just past your shorts, made it almost look like you weren't wearing any, and Sukuna missed the days where you didn't care what you wore around him.
When you'd pad around his apartment in next to nothing, lay around on his couch or bend over to rummage through his cabinets, where bras and pants spent more time in his laundry baskets than on your body. It wasn't about sex. Or even seeing you naked.
It was just how natural you fit in, a huge fucking hole, a painfully empty cavity in his chest where you used to be. Back when you'd been comfortable with him.
You didn't know where to sit now.
If you should look at him or at your pedicure.
Sukuna couldn't catch his breath. None of his inhales reached his lungs.
"Can I kiss you again?" His own voice surprised him. It was hoarse, hardly there.
"You want to?" You asked. Did you not believe it? Or did you just want to hear him say it?
"I want to," He stepped closer, bridged the distance, damned to keep blurring the lines and hoping one day you'd stopped building walls against him. "Been thinkin' about it for fuckin' years, actually."
He thought you didn't want to. Tried to tell himself he was the kind of guy who'd respect your boundaries after you dodged his kiss in the car the second time you hooked up. Convinced himself it was the right call, to protect your friendship when he really should've protected your relationship.
You rolled your eyes right as he cupped your cheek.
"Like you weren't the one who didn't want to kiss me," You tried to remind him.
Some awful knife swirled through his lower intestines, stirring harder the more he realized you were actually being serious, frowning at the unhappy lines by your lips.
"The hell are you talking about?" He gritted his teeth, refusing to pull away.
The lines just got deeper, and he hated how much harder it was to decipher you now.
"The morning after the wedding?" You tilted your head to the side, leaning more into his hand - and he genuinely couldn't tell if it was intentional.
"You were gone," He grimaced at the memory. The first time he fucked you, the first time you were his in a way that wasn't just hypothetical, and it was blurred by the obscene amount of alcohol and nicotine in his system.
He didn't forget that fucking morning though.
A whole plan in his foggy head on how to play it cool, casual, despite the god awful hangover drilling an icepick through his skull.
Finally managing to roll out of bed at noon, walking out of his room expecting to find you in the bathroom or on his couch just for nothing. No call. No text.
You didn't have to say it for him to feel it. To know you wished you hadn't.
He spent so long lying to himself afterwards that the rest got confusing. What was an act and what wasn't, suppressing impulses and feelings until he didn't know where one started and another one ended.
Even now, with your face all furrowed and frustrated, he only knew the shape you filled in him, how much your absence and disappointment fucking ached.
"You were all pissy. Mad at me for trying to wake you up. Told me to come here or get out," You soberly answered, taking a step back. A step away from him. Rubbing your eyes and glancing back to the still-mad bed.
"Why didn't you come here?" He asked, echoing your words and feeling how rough they sounded through his mouth.
Why did you tolerate him at all?
He'd been a bad friend more times than he'd ever been a good one. You were always the one piecing him back together. Picking him up from bars. Bailing him out. Smiling at him when he was a piece of shit.
You had every right to leave.
"I tried to kiss you," You admitted, and he wanted to murder his past hangover self more than maybe anything else. Go back in time and take his place. Treat you right then so you never ended up here in this hotel room with a heart full of hurt he caused. "You moved away."
You blinked, lips pressing in a line before laughing.
It was fake, too forced.
"Guess you don't remember," You mumbled.
"I wish you would've hit me for being such a fucking dickhead," Sukuna sucked in a harsh inhale, tried to find something sturdy inside himself to still be someone for you to lean on. "You can now, if you want."
You cracked a smile, at least, let him step closer again.
"I don't want to hit you," You shook your head. "Even if you are a dickhead."
"Can I try to make up for it now?" He asked, his foot brushing against yours when you took the tiniest of steps forward.
Years of being with you he fucking missed out on because drunk him was an even bigger asshole than sober him. Although, he was sure he would've found some way fuck it up with you back then even if he had you for real.
"Tell me you want to kiss me again," You requested, meeting his eyes like you weren't picking at your cuticles and chewing on the inside of your cheek.
"I want to kiss you," Sukuna grunted, blunt enough that there was no more room for misunderstandings. Making it clear where he stood. Where he refused to fucking budge from.
You stifled a yawn, covering your mouth with the back of your hand and glancing towards the bed. Hiding a tiny smile. But he saw the crinkle by your eyes.
He grabbed your hips, tugging your to him, shoulders tensing and still convinced you were about to shove him away.
But as his hand drifted higher, held you closer, your stare finally shifted back to him.
"One kiss?" You hesitantly asked, a breathy whisper that did not help the hunger eating him alive.
Sukuna couldn't even find a word to say back. Just taking any chance you gave him.
Lips on yours and ready to drag it out for as long as possible. But even when he had to come up for air, your mouth was crashing back on his.
Both of you had always been bad at lying to yourselves. And each other.
He hadn't made out with anyone like this since, well, maybe ever.
Your hands slowly relearning all the places they used to know so well. Over his chest and in his hair, thumb dragging over all those tattoos you'd gone with him to get, drifting under his shirt and nails digging into his back when he had you pressed down against the mattress ten minutes later.
He never let anyone else touch him like this. Know him like this. Never tried even half as fucking hard as he did when you were the one underneath him.
Sukuna's chest was too tight. Heart straining and squeezing at the electricity in your kiss, in every sweep of your hands, each time his own fingers drifted back over a spot he thought he'd never get another glimpse of.
He hooked your thigh over his hip, but he couldn't decide where to look.
Your chest, heaving in and out all unsure? Your eyes, burning into his like you were begging him to do something? Your lips, pretty and pouting?
He drove his knee higher, pressing it against your panties, feeling the faint dampness there.
Still his.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured. He'd said it before. A thousand times or more. But he'd never had this much hesitation. Was never so worried you'd actually take him up on it.
"Shouldn't we-" You spoke softly, so slow too, syrupy and sweet as you blinked. You glanced over at the annoyingly bright alarm clock by the bed, half past midnight. "Tomorrow?"
"I only really give a shit about you," Sukuna admitted. If you told him to quit, he'd figure it out.
He had meant it when you had that pregnancy scare. He would've dropped everything. Rearranged whatever he had to just to be there for you.
You hesitated, squirming a little at the pressure of his knee, at the position of being beneath his body, your fingers still pushing his hair out of his face and one of his hands firmly planted on your hip.
He wondered what you would've said if he phone hadn't started fucking ringing.
Sukuna hadn't even brought it. He guessed he must have forgotten it before, the stupid ring tone going off from the couch where it fell out of his jeans earlier.
You stiffened underneath him, looking towards it instead of him.
"Maybe it's not meant-"
"Don't say that," Sukuna stopped you before you could finish your thought.
"You should get it," You still insisted, like someone had just thrown a bucket of cold water on you.
Sukuna couldn't fucking stand it. Seeing you retreat back into yourself the second someone else interrupts.
"I don't want to," He argued, a cute little pinch between your brows when you untangled your fingers from your hair to prop yourself up.
The phone stopped ringing, and he was about to use it to prove his point until whoever it was tried calling again.
"Seriously," You said, smoothing your shirt back down where it had been pushed up.
Looking anywhere except him for the hundredth time.
He tilted your chin up to make you look.
"We don't need to have sex," he murmured, leaving a kiss on your forehead that he hoped lingered at least half as much for you as it did for him. "But don't shut me out again, okay?"
"So what, it was my fault?" Your smile disappeared, and he couldn't tell if disappointment or disdain replaced it.
He cringed either way, wishing that he could for once in his fucking life, find the right words while you were in front of him.
"That's not what I meant," he mumbled, eyes narrowed. "It just feels like every time we get close, you cut me out."
"Maybe it's because it only seems like you want to get close to me when another guy's around," you bluntly said.
"That's not-" He stopped himself, because it kinda was true.
"I never know what you want," you swallowed, propping yourself up and gently pushing him off. "Not really, anyway."
"I want you," he grunted, but you didn't budge, more awake now as you blinked at him with those still-exhausted eyes.
"As what? A friend? A fuck buddy?" He started to shake his head no, a protest ready to roll off his tongue before you continued. "You've never even been someone's boyfriend before."
"Because I could only ever imagine being yours," He grunted, a begrudging confession that took you by surprise.
It was true though. He'd never seen any point in dating when they weren't you.
The fight fading from your stare, features softening as you tried to swallow what he said.
Your mouth was still open though, a pretty little 'o' that he was dying to shut up with his own.
Kiss and make up.
"I'm tired," You murmured, changing the subject, clearly reeling. Drained from today and maybe dreading tomorrow.
Because even if you didn't want to finish talking about it now, you'd have to sooner or later.
"I meant it," he murmured. "I'll wait for you. Whenever you're ready. I'm not fucking goin' anywhere."
"Just shut up and sleep with me," you yawned, but he could see the slight slump to your shoulders, before you pulled the blankets back to let him in. Patting the spot next to you like it was still his even now.
"Are you sure?" He reluctantly asked, scared of crossing lines for the first time in forever.
"If you don't want to-"
"No," he interrupted, getting under the covers before you could change your mind. "I want to."
Suguru hadn't gotten any sleep.
Not on the plane. Not in the car. Not at his hotel.
Here, in the still-somehow crowded VIP section, a drink in hand and checking on the latest photo of the girls eating snacks on Nanami's couch, he was starting to fucking feel it.
His shoulders were stiff, joints fucking aching, a headache forming around the edges of his brain, each thought weighed by with a hundred other branching ones.
Suguru wanted a fucking cigarette. But he tossed out all his packs back home. Hadn't touched one in days.
The smell of them hung in the air though, someone smoking a few rows back.
He still hadn't spotted Satoru since he got here.
Suguru wasn't that surprised. He figured he was probably passed out or napping on the couch in the closest five-star hotel, sleeping off whatever party or event he'd been at last night. If he asked around after the show, he was sure he'd be able to put together what afterparty he was planning on attending tonight.
The real question was whether or not you'd be on the guest list too.
"Um, sorry, I don't wanna bother you, but-" Someone was tapping on his shoulder, a marker being pushed in his hands.
He said something back, practiced enough that the words seemed to slip from his mind the second he said them. Going through the motions of signing a shirt and plastering on a smile for a photo he didn't really want to take.
Dodging personal questions and struggling not to grimace when they asked if he was looking forward to the show. If he was a fan too.
It took every ounce of his PR training to keep a straight face.
The last thing he needed on top of all the other shit was someone adding fuel to the feud being speculated about in all those gossip magazines.
It was hard enough having to pick up some of the slack from firing Manami. Making decisions on marketing singles and putting out statements to stop other stories from being planted.
He should've stayed at his hotel. Shouldn't so close to the stage where one of his least favorite assholes was about to be performing.
Call it morbid curiosity. But he wanted to see them.
See what they were going up against in the charts in just a few weeks.
Sukuna was maybe the biggest fucking asshole he had the misfortune of meeting. A talented one, but still an asshole.
He doubted a few years had changed that. Especially given the stupid quote he'd given during an article last year calling their band hacks who bought their place on their label and marketed their way into the top ten.
Suguru guessed the pink-haired frontman probably thought he started it just by going to their show. And maybe it was his fault for having a few drinks during it, going up to him after.
Honestly though, Suguru didn't even remember what the fuck either of them said. Just how the first punch felt, how his vision blurred and the sharp sting on his cheek. And then the feeling of his own knuckles cracking against sweaty skin.
Satoru eventually dragged him off of Sukuna, pulling him off as he split blood out on the backstage floor.
He never thought he'd willingly choose to watch them again.
But life never worked out quite right. And he was clawing to get his own back. Even if it meant being here.
Suguru glanced around the VIP section so he wouldn't have to look at the stage, even looking back towards the crowd, and the photo pit next to-
All the air was knocked out of his chest.
You were here.
Hardly ten feet from him.
He was already squeezing past people, spilling his drink as he tried to get closer to you. Staring at the way your thin dress clung to your frame, your cleavage concealer by a big camera hanging down on a strap. You were distracted, your lips pushed together in a pout, thinking about something that had to be bothering you. You'd probably push him away, pretend it was nothing if he asked. But you'd look pretty doing it, and he couldn't pretend he didn't care.
"Hey," he muttered. He tried to breathe, but he couldn't. Not when you were separated from him just by a stupid barricade and a couple security guards, staring down at the camera around your neck and fiddling with the settings. He stepped closer, fingers flexing with the instinct to reach out. He cleared his throat before it could close up, calling your name out louder to be heard over the crowd.
He saw it register, saw your nose scrunch as you started to turn and look around. Saw the surprise flash there, stunned as you stepped back reflexively.
Suguru had been the one to push you away first. But it fucking stung to see it so clearly. To face the consequences after taking a plane and paying for just a chance that you (and Satoru) were here.
"Hey," you echoed, shoulders stiff.
You glanced back up at the stage, at the other photographers milling around. There couldn't be more than fifteen minutes left until they came on.
"You're taking photos?" He asked, like it wasn't obvious enough already. But he had to say something, had to keep you talking before you remembered you didn't want to speak to him at all.
You'd mentioned it to him before that you used to be into photography, but he never realized you meant something like this.
The idea that there was so much more to you than he ever got to uncover made him feel even more like shit than he already did.
"Yeah, um, a favor for a friend," you spoke softly, just loud enough for him to hear you. Not sure how to talk to him anymore either, not after your last conversation.
Someone bumped into him, and he ended up pressed against the rope, close enough to see the little crease between your brow, to tell you were chewing on your cheek. Clearly nervous. Uncertain of where this would lead. Where you wanted it to.
"I was hoping you were here," he confessed.
"Did Satoru-?" You asked, trying to work out some math problem in your head he hoped was in his favor.
"He told me about this weekend," Suguru answered, skirting around the fact it wasn't exactly an invite.
It wasn't that you looked surprised, more, well, confused.
"He did?" You blinked.
"He didn't say if you were coming or not," He admitted. "But I just thought-"
"That I might be?" You filled in the space.
Suguru had forgotten what that felt like. For you to finish what he was saying for him. To look at him without all the hurt shining underneath your eyes.
"Where are the girls?" You asked, betraying a hint of curiosity, of interest.
"Nanami's watching them," He answered, and you just nodded.
"Everything's been wrong without you," He admitted before he could stop himself.
If you felt the same, you hid it better than he did.
"Suguru, you shouldn't say-"
"I miss you," He kept going anyway. The crowd was starting to get nervous around him, louder as the set time crept closer, ticking down to when he wouldn't be able to get another word in. "I know I don't get to miss you when it's my fault I don't have you. But-"
"Do you think I'm just going to take you back because you fired Manami?" You interrupted him, and he honestly wasn't sure what he expected.
He guessed you had talked to Satoru since then.
"No," He muttered. "But I want you to know how serious I am about making it up to you."
"You didn't protect me," You replied. It wasn't exactly an accusation. Just a blunt statement, assigning blame he deserved. "You didn't defend me."
"I know," Suguru softly spoke. "I'm sorry."
He'd take your anger over apathy any day.
But as soon as you let a sliver of it out, you shut it back up. Sealed your heart and the hurt away from him, put it somewhere he couldn't see. Carefully swiping a finger under your eyes like you didn't want to mess up your makeup.
"Forget about it," You replied, like you were fine.
"I can't," He murmured. Not about it. Or you.
"I'm so tired of fighting," You replied, glancing back towards the stage.
"I am too," He had to speak up again, getting jostled while you refused to look back at him. "Baby, I never thought we'd break up. I just wanted you to tell me it wasn't you. That you did love me."
He had no idea if coming clean would make it better or worse.
But you didn't get to reply.
The show was starting.
"I'll, um, see you," You tried to call out over the crowd around him, already picking up the camera and aiming it out as the lights changed on the stage.
He didn't give a shit about watching them.
Suguru only wanted to watch you.
But he wasn't the only one.
The frontman who'd been more like a bogeyman in his mind stepped on stage, guitar slung across his chest and eyes searching the front for someone - and landing on you too.
There was weight to it, dark eyes narrowing and relaxing when your stare met his, even though a camera lens. Suguru hated the way he looked at you, how hungry it fucking was, how it drifted down your body before back up to the camera.
Of course Sukuna would want you.
They'd been fighting for the same thing for years.
Still, Suguru would fork over his fame and success for a second chance with you. Sukuna seemed like the sort of guy who only cared about sex.
He tried to measure your reaction, but you only pressed down on the shutter. Doing your job. Your favor.
For who?
He hadn't figured it out by the third song, slowly getting more irritated each time Sukuna tried to eye-fuck you, always picking the most intense parts of the songs to practically sing to you.
The other band members were glancing over at you too, the blonde drummer winking at you when you focused the camera at her between songs.
Suguru felt like a goddamn moron for never considering who else you might know in the industry.
Something was bothering him. Itching at the back of his brain when none of the photographers had left or moved to a different section after halfway through the set. When Sukuna grabbed the mic and stared at you instead of the rest of the crowd.
"Next one's a new one," He grunted. No elaboration. No declaration. But then he looked over at the side stage, and you looked back over your shoulder at Suguru.
Half a second, a brief flash to see his reaction before white caught his eyes.
Satoru was on stage.
Walking across like he owned it. Rings glinting across his fingers, waving casually before adjusting his guitar as someone hurried across with a second microphone stand.
Was it betrayal? Dread coiling in his stomach?
Jealousy?
Each thought was more like a loose thread in his mind, unravelling before it could even finish. 'What's, 'why's, and 'how's that would just sting more than Satoru switching sides.
Was the favor for Satoru? Were you doing this for him? Was that how you met Sukuna, of all fucking people?
What sucked the most was the fact he hadn't even told him.
Just went and did it without him.
Yeah, he might've been pissed, but he would've still supported whatever Satoru wanted if push came to shove.
Even if he was doing this to fucking punish him for being the pussy he called him before. Pissed off at him and his dad and their label for shutting him down.
Suguru had spent years cleaning up, playing the middle man between the band and the stupid company politics that came with making it popular. Being the guy who handled the paperwork, stayed up late and buried himself in work and raising the girls, always trying to do the right thing for everyone except him.
And now he was watching his best friend on stage with a guy who'd given him a black eye, while you snapped photos and got fucking serenaded by someone who obviously wanted to sleep with you.
He was sick of being selfless.
"Think you got good photos?"
Yuki handed over a plastic cup, and you couldn't quite remember what drink this would be. Your fourth?
The alcohol made it easier.
Blurred the sharp edges, made all that hurt you'd been holding onto too slippery to grasp. Dulled the pain and ache that'd been living in your chest for weeks.
"Hope so," You crossed your fingers, the bass reverberating through you as the host of tonight's afterparty blasted Sukuna's music through the speakers.
You couldn't tell if Sukuna was trying to keep his hands on or off of you.
Palm pressed on the small of your back, leaning in to murmur and whisper, sticking to your side, like you'd leave or slip away as soon as he was more than a few inches from you.
He hadn't said a word about seeing Suguru on the other side of the barricade.
You weren't entirely sure he'd even seen him.
The conversations you had with both guys were the reasons behind drinks one and two. The third was from the expression you'd seen on Suguru's face when Satoru walked out on stage that had been on replay in your head.
The pain palpable in it, the way he clenched his jaw and swallowed hard like he was choking on it.
You still hated seeing him hurt. Hated how easy it was for his words, his sincerity to seep through and infect your heart.
This drink though?
That was for Sukuna staring at you now like he was in love with you, ignoring everyone that came up to congratulate him on the show and ask for autographs and photos.
"People keep looking," He grumbled, lips grazing against the shell of your ear as you softly laughed.
"At you, maybe," You shrugged. "Not me."
You were just a forgotten piece of the news cycle, an accessory on Sukuna's arm to them.
Well, most of the attention was actually on Satoru, who was at least seven drinks (that you counted) in, wasted and making a fool of himself despite your several attempts to reel him in and cut him off.
"I think someone should get Satoru a ride back to the hotel," You pointed to where he was starting to rummage through the cabinets of whoever's house this was.
Sukuna's nose scrunched up when you glanced expectantly up at him.
"Why are you looking at me?" He grunted.
"Because that's what friends do," You reminded him, and he audibly groaned.
"I'm not friends with Gojo," He pouted. But there was a tiny hint of concern in his eyes when Satoru stumbled and nearly broke the closest side table by breaking his fall. "Fine."
"Thanks," You smiled, patting his cheek once.
"I'll try to convince him to get a taxi or somethin'," Sukuna muttered, hesitantly pulling away to go over to him.
The party felt a lot fucking bigger without him by your side.
When you turned to say something else to Yuki, she wasn't there any more. You hadn't seen Choso or Uruame since you got here either. Sukuna and Satoru had dragged you here, only stopping back by the hotel so you could drop off the camera, although you scolded them into showering and changing before the party.
You hadn't really been alone with Sukuna since you woke up this morning and he was gone. A muffin and a note left by your bed that he had to handle some band stuff and he'd be back.
The rest of the day had been a blur. Until Suguru.
You were sorta thankful he wasn't here, that you wouldn't have to-
Someone bumped into you.
"Sorry, I didn't mean-"
Scratch that.
"It's fine," You forced a smile, wiping a little bit of beer that had spilled on your hand off.
"Here," He mumbled. He gently grabbed your wrist, lightly pulling you into the kitchen, letting you go once there was more space and less bodies around. He yanked off some paper towels from the roll, wetting them under the sink and cleaning up your arm.
That was just who he was.
He wanted to take care of you. He just ended up not being very good at it.
You hopped up on the counter, feet dangling while he tossed the damp paper towels in the trash.
Suguru positioned himself between your thighs like you'd been saving it for him. Holding out his own drink and looking down at you like you were the most refreshing thing at this party.
You tried to search inside yourself for what you were feeling, but you were still floating on that warm fuzz in your chest. You couldn't even find discomfort.
What did you really have left to lose?
You lost him already. Things were weird with Sukuna, but an annoying little self-sabotaging piece of yourself was tempted to test all those pretty promises he'd been peddling.
It was easy for him to tell you he wouldn't leave. It was harder to actually stay.
"Funny seeing you here, huh?" Suguru murmured.
"You tracking me too?" You teased, and he chuckled, cringing a little at the reminder of Manami.
"No, I'm,uh," He stopped talking, setting down his drink and pushing his bangs back out of his face like he was self-conscious. It felt kind of nice to be the one making him nervous for once. "Is Satoru here?"
You guessed he must've just got here if he missed the Gojo show.
"He's pretty wasted, I actually asked-"
A guy tapped Suguru's shoulder, a cigarette dangling from his lips. You'd never seen him before, and guessing by the confusion and disdain dripping from Suguru's grimace.
"Have a lighter?"
"Nah," Suguru waved his hand, stepping closer to you, a few less inches to separate his skin from yours. "Sorry, just quit smoking."
It was your lungs that stopped working after he said it. Glancing down at his pocket, like you'd see a pack of cigarettes there, but there was just the faint outline of his phone.
You waited for the other guy to walk away, to go ask someone else before you managed to slur your unsure question. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," he murmured, lifting up the sleeve of his shirt to show a nicotine patch.
"Why'd you quit?" You mumbled.
He looked at you like you should know. As if it was obvious.
"You never liked the taste, did you?" It wasn't a real question.
You both knew the answer to what you were asking.
"I didn't ask you to quit," You half-whispered.
"I know," Suguru shrugged. "I'm just tired of wishing I did stuff sooner. There's, uh, a lot I didn't get time with you to do. To say."
Like tell you he loved you?
You could see the words forming on his tongue, and you panicked.
"To be honest, I didn't get to tell you everything either," you admitted, the warmth in your chest only making your mouth looser, tongue moving before your brain could stop it.
What was the worst that could happen if you told him about Sukuna now?
It would probably kill whatever feelings he had left for you, right? Wouldn't that be easier?
Maybe if you were really lucky, he'd say something awful enough to eradicate whatever you had left inside you for him.
Suguru leaned in, a hand settling on your knee, drifting above your thigh, about to ask, his brows furrowed and dark eyes glinting.
But before he could speak, there was the sound of glass breaking. Something shattered to your left, both of your heads turning to see Sukuna standing there, Satoru lingering a few steps behind him, a bottle broken between their feet.
Sukuna was seething.
"Get your hand off her before I break your fucking fingers."
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"How mature of you."
With four fucking words, Suguru brought his fist back and hit him again. And again. One more time for good measure. Below his eye, his lip, his cheek. Mangling that face that he used to get what he wanted.
And still, Nanami just wiped away the blood from his busted lip, tilted his head to the side and clenched his jaw. Disdain in his eyes, harsh and hard.
"Really, showing up to my place, punching me," Nanami dryly continued, bruises blooming across his face as he felt the broken and swelling skin. "Think she'd approve?"
No, you probably wouldn't, but his body reacted before his brain did the second Nanami opened that door.
"You didn't think about her when you-" God, he couldn't even fucking say it. Thinking about you, all glossy eyed and soft, being manhandled and bent over just for Nanami to take advantage of. Which was precisely what happened.
He made you feel insecure. Made you question your worth, like he wasn't the one who didn't deserve you. Used that to fuck you how he wanted.
You had been hesitant to even give him Nanami's address, downplayed what happened - he had to push for it, to promise that he didn't judge you, didn't think less, swear that you weren't the one who should be embarrassed for craving intimacy. Even if it wasn't with him. Nanami was the one who should've felt ashamed for toying with your feelings for his pleasure.
Nanami didn't throw a punch or even slam the door shut to stop him from hitting him again, just gave him that irritatingly blank and bored look like he was waiting for Suguru to finish.
He wanted to grab him by his wrinkle-less collar and wring his fucking throat.
"Do you love her?" He asked instead, low and gravelly, a tight grip on his self-control that was slipping more by the second. He knew the answer.
Nanami did too.
The question was if he'd confess to the charade he was pulling or keep up the appearance of a gentleman. To try and trick Suguru the same way he was tricking you.
"No," Nanami bluntly answered, a slight shrug, as if to say so what? "But you do."
Suguru froze. Clipped nails digging into his fist to stop himself from hitting him and giving him a second black eye. His breath had stalled, veins burning as his brain replayed how casually cold Nanami could be.
So that was it. It hadn't even been about you. No, this was about him - and you were just the pawn Nanami picked up and played with to get to Suguru.
"What the fuck did I do?" He snapped.
"Does it matter to you?" Nanami asked, blonde brows scrunching together, practically radiating condescension from the crease between them.
"Does she matter to you?" Suguru returned the question, searching for something other than cruelty or contempt in his stare. To find the guy who used to be a friend instead of the stranger who had anal sex with the girl carrying his baby?
Nanami ignored his question, and for a brief second, Suguru caught the faint smirk curling up on the corner of his lips.
But in the brief pause, barely audible over the strained breathing and his pulse pounding, there was the soft sound of crying. He turned first. Looking over to where you were leaning against the doorframe, just out-of-sight for Nanami but still able to hear every word he said.
Suguru was surprised you agreed to come with him, but he supposed you must have had a few suspicions of your own considering he didn't have to convince you to eavesdrop.
Your eyes were wet, a few tears starting to trail down your cheeks before you could wipe them away. You met Suguru's stare, and it hurt, the disappointment, the disgust in them, betrayed by someone you'd trusted enough to let touch you.
He could feel Nanami stiffen, a tangible and sudden shift in the air as he stepped forward to see you standing there. The first hints of panic creeping into his expression, eyes narrowing as he tried to work out a way out of this.
"Sweetheart," He started, careful even when trying to calm you, to keep up the act he shattered himself.
"Stop," You breathed, stepping back away from Nanami. You were shaking. Inhales that didn't reach your lungs and exhales that couldn't last longer than half a second.
"It's not-" Nanami continued, but you shook your head.
"No," You interrupted, swallowing hard. "You don't get to say shit to me when it's obvious I don't matter to you."
"You do matter," Nanami tried to step forward, but Suguru quickly slotted himself in front of you, refusing to let him to get close.
Suguru had made a lot of mistakes, done his fair share of shitty things, but shielding you would never be one of them. Stepping up and in front of you was an easy decision - one he wouldn't have to be a father to make.
"I can't believe I fucking bought your bullshit," You muttered, your voice breaking as you turned to walk away.
"It wasn't bullshit," Nanami was still lying, molars grinding and face frozen in a now-bruised mask.
"Whatever," You huffed, but you were halfway to the elevator.
"If you ever come close to her again, I'll beat your fucking ass," Suguru threatened, stopping him from following you. It wasn't a bluff. Because unlike him, he knew how to be fucking honest.
Maybe it didn't always come out right, maybe he was too blunt and harsh sometimes, but he apologized, tried to be better. Nanami just attempted to justify it.
"If you ever touch me again, I'm pressing assault charges," Nanami warned, all that fake warmth fizzling out once you wouldn't be able to hear him anymore.
Suguru stepped back, biting his tongue to keep his mouth shut. Glanced over his shoulder to watch you push the button for the elevator, your foot tapping against the floor and your arms tightly folded across your front. From the back, you didn't even really look pregnant, and he couldn't help but think about the you from a year ago, when you were still supposed to be just a coworker and not a crush, waiting for the elevator in your short little skirt and throwing him an annoyed look when he walked over to join you.
You rolled your eyes at him when he asked about your day, grumbled something about it being better if he wasn't there, and he'd sarcastically said something about you missing him too much if he wasn't. But it was all backwards.
He was the one who missed you the second you left. Suguru was stuck on you. Had been far fucking longer than he ever admitted to himself.
Couldn't let you go. Couldn't watch you walk away.
He jogged to catch up to you now, putting a palm against your back and murmuring a sorry for snapping like that. He expected you to be upset with him, to roll your eyes and tell him to fuck off too. But you leaned your head on his shoulder instead, stifling sniffles and rubbing your nose to stop yourself from sobbing.
pairings: baby daddy!Geto x f!Reader x coworker!Nanami
content: mdni, angst, modern coworker au, possessive nanami, pregnant reader, heavy jealousy, manipulation, grudges and hatred, Nanami is SO petty and has ulterior motives, toxic relationship
Nanami liked to think he wasn't an emotional man.
He relied on logic, on reasoning. Made his mind up months in advance. Acted and adjusted his behavior to be the model gentleman everyone expected him to be.
But by the time he was at the bottom of his second whiskey glass, he was struggling to decide whether it was you or Suguru making his mask slip.
You were sweet. Malleable. It was one of his favorite things about you, the way you always automatically listened to him and accepted his suggestions. It made everything easier. Until he came back around.
Once upon a time, he actually respected Suguru.
But he should've never thought so highly of someone who was best friends with Gojo. Both of them were assholes who thought they floated above the rest. Didn't care what they stole or what was left behind to reach it, childish pranks or cheating or coming up with excuses to justify every action. Casually dismissive and cocky that they'd never end up crushed someday too.
Nanami supposed that was what started this. The good word Suguru put in that condemned him to a position beneath him - and led him directly to you. You had been sitting at your desk, head buried in some paperwork, but he cleared his throat, and your face immediately turned up to him. He hadn't missed how hard you blushed when he introduced himself, the slight tremble of your fingers when you stuck them out for him to shake. Honestly, it annoyed him on his initial impression, another person that he'd eventually have to politely turn down. Until you opened your mouth and complained about what a dickhead you thought Suguru was.
It hadn't been planned at first.
But the pieces had fallen into place so nicely. Other than him, you were by far the most competent employee in the department - and the only one who hated Suguru too. From there, it was a simple matter of spreading rumors and planting the idea in a couple more gossiping coworkers that Suguru despised you too. You both already bickered in meetings, it wasn't a stretch to believe. Slipping some of his own work into your stacks of stuff knowing you'd never consider it was from him instead of Suguru, sitting there and nodding when you groaned and gritted your teeth through it, offering his help just to end up doing half of his own workload. A win, in his book.
It was cute how you'd stare up at him with that pretty pout and promise to buy him coffee for his help.
Nanami wasn't an idiot though. He saw the way Suguru looked at you. Noted his stare lingering too long when you passed by, how his eyes flickered down to your lips every time you talked. Even better, you were oblivious.
Suguru wanted you. Nanami wanted you so Suguru couldn't have you.
He was disappointed when you quit, until he realized he'd get to watch Suguru suffer through your absence. He might've let it go - quit himself and found some other job to forget about the past.
Until the baby.
And what was even better than stealing his girl than stealing his kid?
Taking his spot in your life? Maybe putting a glittering ring on your finger and moving you in with him?
He could learn to love you. You checked every box he had. Looked up at him with adoration. It wouldn't be a hard life.
If Suguru would just fucking stay out of it.
Keep to the sidelines and watch instead of trying to play the game. He took another long sip of his drink. Tried to tell himself it was just dinner. That maybe he pushed you a little too far earlier.
He'd show up tomorrow with more flowers, maybe your favorite dessert. Kiss your forehead and promise that he'd be softer next time.
And he would. Light some candles and show you that he could adore you too. That was how it was supposed to be. He wanted to wait. To let you have the baby and get the all clear before so there was nothing left of Suguru to taint the act.
To strip you down nice and slow and carry you to the bed. To spread your thighs and taste you until you were begging him to fuck you, pin them to the mattress and maybe even put a baby of his own in there.
You'd let him too.
The problem was Suguru.
Showing up after he'd built the swing, sticking around like he could ever be a half-decent dad. You were too patient, too trusting, believing him despite Nanami's best efforts to plant doubt in your head.
God, you'd even fucking picked him tonight.
And what was Nanami doing? Online shopping for something to drag you back on his side - debating on how hard it'd be to convince someone to catfish Suguru if it meant he'd be too distracted to interrupt again.
Someone knocked on his door.
Had your dinner gone that badly? Had Suguru blown it and reminded you why he was the best option to raise a baby with?
Nanami dropped his whiskey down on his coaster with a heavy exhale, pausing in front of his mirror to fix the collar of his shirt before continuing down the hall, putting on a practiced frown that hinted at disappointment.
He liked you best when you were working to please him anyway.
There was a second, softer knock.
He didn't bother looking through the peephole, flipping the lock and pulling it open. And half a second later, a fist was connecting against his cheek, hard.
Having your two boyfriends in the shower with you - who have tentatively made up - was blissful. Satoru's cock buried inside you, Suguru on his knees lapping at your cunt, one hand holding your thigh up high so Satoru could fuck you deeper.
'Suguru, Satoru - mnh!' you're overestimated, it's how they love to have you, Satoru's cock shoving deeper, while Sugruru sucks your little clit in his hot mouth.
'Cum all over his face, sweetheart, make him messy ' Satoru orders huskily, grabbing Sugurus hair and shoving his face even closer, Suguru’s tongue flicking on Satorus cock as he thrusts. 'Fuck just lick her! I'm m-mad...'
You laugh breathless, head on Satoru's chest, hips arching as you feel yourself convulsing around his lengthy cock, gushing and squirting on Suguru’s face. Your little whines echo in the shower, mixing with their moans, when Satoru pulls out of your cunt, hot water pounding.
Suguru laps the taste of Satoru's pre off your cunt, and flicks his tongue on Satoru's tip, making him suck in a breath. 'Don't try to suck up to me, I'm still mad at you,' Satoru's shoving his cock in his mouth as he says it, earning your giggle now at the sight.
'Still mad, hmm?' Suguru taunts softly, earning the little glare on Satoru's pretty face, before switching positions with him, turning you the other way.
'Ready for me princess?' He whispers, and you nod eagerly, feeling the stretch of his shape, while Satoru sits down on the tile of the shower.
His blue eyes just glitter when he looks up, leaning his head so he can run his tongue along your slit and Suguru’s cock simultaneously. 'Thought you were mad at me. Huh? Why you licking me?'
'M'not, you're just in the way,' The two of you moan out at his tongue, a hand on each of your thighs. 'Just an accident is all...' he's desperately trying to taste both of you. 'So annoying!'
Your hand entangles in white locks, as long black ones brush against your skin, Suguru choking your throat gently while your other boyfriend pleasures you both. Suguru pulls out just a bit, and Satoru hungrily sucks your essence off his tip.
'Put me back inside her tight little cunt, Satoru,' Sugruru orders softly, smirking against your skin. He's too happy to have his boyfriend back.
'Hah, only if she tells me too,' Satoru looks up at you, for your cute little nod while he licks a filthy stripe up your slit, positioning Sugruru's cock right back inside. 'Mmm...'
'Toru!' You're both murmuring his name, his teeth against your clit as he grins. He knows what he does to you both, you're weakly whining out when you cum again, this time more sensitive, Satoru drinks you up.
Soon your boyfriends have you lifted, tips just barely able to penetrate you together, rubbing each other in your snug channel. 'Don't forgive you. just wanna make her happy,' Satoru says. Kissing you desperately, and Suguru chuckles. 'I'm so serious!'
'Just cum in me, both of you - ngh!' They do just that, gentle and easy, cocks brushing together as that cum spurts up and down there cocks, mixing with your arousal and the hot water of the shower.
'Are you gonna stay mad forever. It's kinda hot.' Suguru earns Satorus scoff, shaking his head and spurting cum on your clit as he pulls out. 'Baby tell him to be nice to me.'
'Be n-nice, both of you. No more fighting!' They agree for now, but you really doubt this peace will last long.
'Can you all please at least t-talk to each other, ngh!' Satoru Gojo chuckles when you try you back away, his cock shoving too deep. 'ah- ah, don't run, and stop bringing him up, only wanna think about this cunt.' Satoru drags your hips back down, fucking you from the back, smacks echoing.
you've tried to get your dumb sorcerer boyfriends to make up so your pussy and ass can rest, but they won't listen to reason! It's time to trick them.
'C'mere, show me how much you missed me, sweets,' Satoru murmurs later, after you've invited them both. You kneel for him, making him moan when you free his thick, pretty cock for you to wrap your lips around. 'F-fuck, have I told you how much better you are than Suguru at that?'
'The fuck!?' Suguru Geto walks in then, and Satoru jumps back, shoving up the blindfold, while you bite back a laugh. 'What are you doing here, Satoru?'
'She invited me, what are you doing here!?' you sigh, shaking your head. 'I invited you both here, we're going to make up.'
'No way!' that's both of the pouty six foot four men, crossing their arms. You're still on your knees, touching Suguru over his green robes, and Satoru's cock, already leaking pre. 'Fine, if you all won't be with each other, can't you be with me together?'
They're scowling at each other, but your hands stroking causes them to flutter their eyes shut, groaning softly. 'I won't touch him, though, don't want to,' Satoru says, tugging at your hair, while you lap at his blush tip. 'Hah, I only want her, anyway,'
'Tell him I'm better, sweetheart,' Satoru whispers, right against your cunt, while Suguru caresses your cheek, you're on your hands and knees on the bed, them on either side of you. 'Tell him how much better I taste.'
Satoru's tongue slips up your slit, making you moan around Suguru's thick length. 'Look how much she loves me,' Satoru leans up, long fingers stretching you, his blue eyes glinting at Suguru now. 'More than you'
'Oh shut up, Satoru,' he flips you, you're dizzy from the way your boyfriends just throw you around like you're just some toy, but it makes your cunt that much wetter. 'She likes my mouth better, she told me so.' Suguru's tongue is fucking you then, making you arch, gasping.
Satoru's desperately kissing your lips, moaning when he tastes Suguru's precum. 'Fuck, I wish I didn't have to taste you, you're ruining my kiss.' 'Hah, you love tasting me,' Satoru scowls, Suguru's cock is lined up with your hole, pressing in. His big hands take over your hips, your body, you gasp as he fills you so deep, pulling you to your knees. 'Look at me inside her.'
Satoru does watch, hungry while your tummy bulges with his ex boyfriend's cock. He gets feral, possessive, kneeling on the bed and yanking you off his cock, you're whimpering when Satoru's right inside you, hitting so deep you're crying out. 'Tell him sweetheart, that you want me more.'
'W-want you both, to just... get along, mnh...' Suguru stretches your ass now with spit soaked fingers, while Satoru fucks your cunt. 'Please, get along... for me...'
Suguru's cock inches slowly in your little hole, leaning over to kiss you. They're stretching you, filling you, only for Satoru to 'accidentally' kiss Suguru. 'Fuck you,' Suguru grumbles, finger on your clit, his other hand yanking Satoru's blindfold off. 'Fuck you and your dumb blindfold, it's stupid - fuck you're tight, Princess...'
'Fuck your stupid man bun,' Satoru yanks his pony tail out, Suguru's locks spilling across your shoulders. 'You look stupid!'
'P-please, don't fight,' you're clinging to Satoru's shoulders, while they don't stop fucking you, kissing on you, their lips meeting again, but this time they moan, thickening in you. 'Only doing this f'you, baby,' Satoru pulls back from Suguru's lips. 'Only for you,' Suguru agrees.
They're taking turns gripping your tits, your ass, leaving marks everywhere, sneaking angry kisses with each other. Soon their hands entangle in each other's hair and yours, both moaning. 'Mmm, I'm fucking her better,' Satoru says. 'No, I am.'
'I can last longer, so fuck you,' Satoru kisses Suguru's neck even while he's wrecking your cervix, Suguru's teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand yanking on Satoru's locks. 'Hah, you can't last longer than me.'
Once you've hit the most intense orgasm, your aftershocks make both men bust deep inside you, spurting hot cum so deep, filling you everywhere. You're dripping them both when they lift you up, for a moment both enraptured in how good you feel. 'She's so perfect,' Satoru murmurs, Suguru sighs. 'She is...'
They're both on either side of you after, when you finally ask - 'What happened?'
'He cheated at Street fighter!' Satoru's tugging you against him, you glare then. 'This is over a game!?' Suguru tugs you back. 'I didn't cheat I'm just better than him.'
'Oh fuck you! Why don't you go? I need to fuck my girl again, she's not pregnant yet.' Suguru's scowling now, as you realize your cunt and ass are truly done for - over a fucking video game.
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Satoru Gojo can't help but desperately eat Suguru's cum pouring out of your pretty cunt, lapping it up until there's not a drop left inside you.
His swirling blue eyes look up at you, glittering as he murmurs - 'tell Suguru how much better I am, sweetheart, that I d-dont miss him' while scissoring long digits inside you, your eyes rolling back, cumming on his pretty face.
You date both of them, they'd brought you into their lives, but they're in the biggest fight, and now you're stuck being the go between for two six-foot-four sorcerers! You're bruised everywhere, your cunt and your ass are truly ruined, and they just won't make up.
'Hah, tell Satoru your ass feels so much better than his,' Suguru Geto whispers, cock stretching your little puckered hole, making you cry out, thighs trembling. He's fucking that liquid lube deep inside you, his fingers on your clit, black silky hair draped on your shoulder. 'I c-cant!?' He chuckles. 'You can, love'
'He said what now!?' Satoru is putting you in a full mating press, his blindfold is shoved up high. That cock thick and heavy against your entrance. 'Toru, can you two-mnh!' Satoru slams his cock deep inside you, big hands shoving your thighs higher, his white hair falling over a brow. 'Bet he'll be mad if I get our girl pregnant first, huh?'
'He said what now!?' Suguru's furious when he kneels, shoving your ass against the door, inhaling the scent of Satoru's cum that's slipping out from your abused hole. 'Sugu, please can you all get along again? I'm not even- ngh!' Suguru's tongue ring clicks against your clit. 'He thinks he'll get you pregnant first? we'll see about it.'
Suguru turns you, murmuring - 'arch for me, princess' and you do just that, letting him shove that silk robe you're wearing up your hips. After he cums inside you, biting your neck to the point it's almost bleeding, you're too wobbly to even walk, deciding to go home and try to hide from them.
How much dick can you take really!?
Satoru just appears in thin fucking air in your bedroom that night though, you roll your eyes at him, covering your face. 'Toru...' he says nothing, kicking off his shoes and laying in your bed, tugging you close. 'I miss him' he murmurs, you sigh and nod, brushing his hair back, feeling awful that they won't just communicate.
'You two will be fine,' he kisses on your neck sweetly, before scowling, seeing Suguru’s teeth marks. He touches the bruise, chuckling in that dark tone that makes you tense up. 'Hah, does he really think he'll win? I'll mark you everywhere before I send you back' then he's sinking his teeth into the mark, tugging your ass against his hard body.
“mm… you’re so fucking impatient, baby,” suna’s voice is thick, low, and raspy with sleep, like he didn’t even bother sitting up when he answered. you can hear his sheets rustling lazily as his hand finds his cock under the covers, giving it a slow, wet stroke. “can’t even let me sleep without thinking about my cock, huh?”
“rin— ngh— missed you, it hurts—” you whimper, fingers slipping into your soaked pussy, desperate and messy, “wanna cum for you, rin— please, need your voice—”
“tch… fuckin’ brat,” he mutters, but his groan betrays how much he loves it. you can picture him—hair a tousled mess, eyes half-lidded, the barest smirk on his lips as his hand works lazily. “you’re in bed all spread out, aren’t you? fuckin’ yourself with those shaky little fingers. pathetic, baby.”
“y-yeah— ah— ngh, i’m so wet, rin—” you gasp, breath trembling as you grind your hips into your palm, the slick sounds obscene. “wish you were here— wanna feel you fuck me slow— ruin me—”
“mhm… if i was there, baby, you wouldn’t be able to breathe.” his voice is a deep drawl, slurred with sleep but so nasty it makes your toes curl. “i’d slide in slow, make you feel every inch, while you whimper into the pillow. you’d be so fuckin’ messy for me.”
“rin— ngh— please, talk to me, ‘m gonna cum—” you whine, the pace of your fingers getting desperate.
“yeah? cum for me, pretty.” his groan is hoarse, sleepy but filthy, as his lazy strokes get faster. “let me hear how fucking pretty you sound when you break for me.”
“ah— ah— fuck, rin— ngh— i’m cumming—!” you sob, crying his name as your orgasm crashes over you, hips jerking as you ride it out on your messy fingers.
his breathing turns into a low, guttural groan. “shit— fuck, baby—” you can hear the slick, wet glide of his cock in his hand, lazy but filthy as hell. “fucking… ngh… cumming for you, baby. you’re so perfect, fuck.”
there’s a beat of silence, both of you breathing hard, the haze of sleep and filth blending together.
“you better be sending me a picture of that messy pussy after this, baby,” suna mutters, voice heavy with exhaustion but laced with that cocky, lazy heat. “fuck.. forget it. 'm still hard. need to feel that pussy, angel. i'm coming over, better see you naked when i get there.”
pairing: baby daddy!Geto x f!reader x coworker!Nanami
content: mdni, angst, modern coworker au, possessive nanami, protective Geto, anal sex aftermath lol, pregnant reader, uncomfortable conversations and confrontations, communication
Nanami was still there when you woke up.
But he wasn't alone.
You pulled on a nightgown and tied a robe over it at the sound of him talking, feeling almost embarrassed for him to see you despite what you'd just done together. You were still sore, every step stiff as you forced yourself forward. A sprinkle of shame sticking to your skin that you doubted you'd be able to scrub off in the shower.
Padding out into the hallway with a yawn, holding his still-damp tie in one hand when you heard his voice.
"You shouldn't be here," Nanami bluntly said, and you didn't need to guess to know who he was talking to.
"I don't think that's your decision."
You hesitated to round the corner, feeling Suguru's stare sticking to your skin, studying you the second you stepped out.
It was Nanami that addressed you first.
"You should go back to bed," He sighed again.
It hurt to admit you hated the way he said it. That half the stuff that came out of his mouth tonight was recoloring every memory of him you had, forcing you to reevaluate each item of information you knew about him. Was he being considerate? Or self-centered? Did you just suit his needs? Or did he want you?
You threw his tie at him.
Nanami caught it, his jaw set as he shoved it in his pocket.
"Suguru can stay," You stubbornly muttered.
"I was about to make dinner." Nanami didn't scoff. Didn't argue. Just stared like you said something wrong.
And you couldn't help but think if he was really so accepting, shouldn't he be fine with a short meal with the guy who you'd be stuck for life with anyway? If he really was so set on being the stepfather?
"Are you hungry?" You looked over at Suguru, arms folded across your chest.
One corner of his lips barely curled up, probably finding the whole thing as absurd as you did, but he shrugged.
"Starving," He answered.
His stance was clear. Whatever he felt about Nanami, he could shove aside for you.
"I think I've lost my appetite," Nanami shrewdly replied.
It wasn't what you wanted to hear. But it wasn't unexpected.
"Do you want to go?" You stunned yourself by saying it. Standing up straighter even if it made you ache to do.
"I don't feel comfortable leaving you alone here with him," Nanami huffed.
It seemed there was a lot he wasn't comfortable with.
You wondered what other rules came with loving Nanami.
"I'll just change and go grab something to eat with him," You muttered under your breath. He grabbed your arm, firm fingers wrapping around your wrist to get you to look up at him.
"Honey," He chided, low and careful.
The warmth in his brown eyes started to feel more like a fire than a hearth. It wasn't cozy anymore, a dangerous heat behind them.
"I think maybe you should go home too," You reluctantly added, twisting your arm free and pulling back.
"Is that what you want?" Nanami coldly asked.
"Yeah," You breathed. "It is."
"Fine," He stepped back. "I'll call you tonight."
You weren't sure what to think about that. About him. The way he'd fucked you more like a one-night-stand than a man who'd been acting like he wanted to spend a future raising a kid together. Nodding as you turned back into the hall, throwing an unsteady glance to Suguru.
"I'll be back in a minute." You tried to sound confident, but you couldn't catch your breath, adrenaline pumping through you for whatever reason.
You didn't stick around to see his reaction.
Just disappeared back into your bedroom to shove away the evidence of your evening, picking up the last leftovers of getting fucked by someone you didn't even know what kind of feelings you had for anymore. Faintly, you heard the front door slam shut. You tried to ignore it. Changing yet again into a more casual sundress this time, throwing a cardigan over it and snagging one of the few pairs of sandals you had that didn't hurt your feet before heading back out into the hall.
The only thing left from Nanami's uh, visit, was the newly-built baby swing and the glass of ice that turned into water on the kitchen counter.
Suguru was waiting by the door.
"Hey," He murmured.
"Hi," You exhaled softly.
"Wasn't trying to interrupt," Suguru shrugged. "You just didn't text me back. Guess I got worried."
There were worse things to be.
You could at least understand where he was coming from. You were carrying his kid, it was normal to get nervous - even if it was mostly an excuse to come over and see you.
"It's fine," You managed a smile. "But I really am hungry, so, uh, can we seriously go eat something?"
He chuckled, and you couldn't help but think of what happened to the guy who had told you to not to show up to work if you were sick.
Even when you made it to the closest restaurant, sipping on something carbonated and devouring the appetizer he ordered for you, you still found yourself lingering in the past. One where it'd been so simple to believe he was the bad guy and Nanami was your gentleman.
"Why were you such a dick to me?" You asked with a frown. "Back when we worked together?"
He almost choked on his drink.
"You hated me first," Suguru huffed, but his tone was still light. It wasn't accusatory, rather just recalling a memory. Even if it was wrong.
"No," You pointed a finger at him. "I disagreed with you once when I started, and you made working there hell for me."
His mouth dropped open, a flash a genuine surprise on his face.
"I mean, we argued, and okay, yeah, I gave you more work, but that was just because you were the most capable person to handle it," Suguru frowned, and there was a strange furrow to his brow, eyes narrowed like he was reconsidering something. "I know I was an asshole before, and I am sorry, it's just, I thought most of that stuff was petty. I never thought-"
You chewed on your lip, trying to figure out what to make of that. Of this version of him.
"No one else there would even talk to me," You stopped him, and it was only when you said it out loud, that you thought of the exception. You would've been a pariah if it weren't for Nanami.
"Look, I know we didn't exactly get along then, but I didn't have anything to do with that," Suguru insisted, and you felt some cold shard slide into your heart, a truth you didn't want to face lingering there. "I didn't treat you the way I should've, but I still respected you."
Did Nanami treat you the way he did to hide the fact that he didn't respect you?
You couldn't bring yourself to say anything back to that.
Letting the conversation drift towards easier topics. Talking about baby names. Debating on when to take off for parental leave. Answering his questions about what else you needed or if there were any items you were missing. Laughing when he reluctantly admitted his friends wanted to have a baby shower.
But you both felt the cloud hanging over the dinner, and you had to keep readjusting in the booth, uncomfortable from both the baby bump and where your ass still ached.
"Did something happen?"
You stared at the floor. Picked at the hem of your dress. Shook your head no like he'd believe you.
"You don't have to lie to me," He spoke slowly. "Whatever it is, I'm on your side."
"Suguru," You breathed out his name, and the corner of his mouth twitched, anxious.
"I'm not going to tell you what to do, or who to date, but I didn't like the way he grabbed you," He admitted like it was hard to say, like he was struggling to go against his reserved nature, only peeling open another vulnerable layer of your heart.
"We, um, fucked," You blurted it out. "Before you got there."
"Oh," Suguru exhaled. You felt everything in your chest strain waiting for him to say something else. "Thought you'd be happier about it."
"Me too," You murmured. A lump had lodged itself in your throat, another thing you were finding hard to swallow today. "It, just, it didn't happen the way I thought it would."
You could see Suguru trying to piece it together.
"Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything," You cleared your throat, tried to take it back, but it was too late.
"Did he do something? Or-?"
"He found your boxers," You revealed, cringing at the realization you were telling everything out of order, but not able to stop yourself from spilling it out when you started. "He was upset about it, and I-"
"He didn't hurt you, right?" Suguru didn't mean to interrupt, but you could see the anger simmering under his skin at the thought.
And maybe he didn't actually hurt you, but the way he'd rejected the idea of your pregnancy, the implication that it repulsed him, it stung. Guilt and disgust sleeping in at his words.
It wasn't that you regretted it.
But you couldn't deny the entire evening had left you feeling almost gross. Like you were supposed to think you were lucky he even wanted you at all.
"He said he wasn't comfortable having sex with me," You muttered, embarrassed to even say it. "Because of the baby."
"But-" He cut himself off, but he didn't want to believe whatever conclusion he was coming to.
"It's fine," You excused it. "I mean, I should just talk to him about it."
He'd probably be pissed if he knew you were confiding anything in Suguru.
Who, apparently, was not about to drop it judging by the way his jaw went slack and he leaned forward, his hand sliding over yours on the table.
pairing: baby daddy!Geto x f!reader x coworker!Nanami
content: mdni, angst and smut, anal sex, pregnancy sex, uncomfortable dynamics, jealousy, possessiveness, fingering, rough sex, soft dom nanami, he's mean guys lol, gagging you with his tie
Had Suguru seriously left your apartment commando just to fuck with you?
"Are those-"
"Yeah," You admitted, holding your breath and waiting for him to huff at you and leave. For the nice guy charade to crack and him to cut you down with some cold stare. There was an uncomfortable pause before you forced yourself to continue, "He, um, called me after our date and came over."
"I see," Nanami calmly assessed, his voice even despite his jaw being clenched, eyes locked onto the boxers as if the cotton somehow delivered the blow directly to his ego.
"I wasn't really sure where we stood," You mattered, making excuses for something you didn't even really feel bad for. It just the way he wouldn't look at you, the heaviness hanging in the air, that your body and mouth were panicking over. "It felt like you were rejecting me. Which is fine, you know, it's not like we're exclusive, and I get it if you're not interested in having sex. But I have needs."
"And I'm sure Suguru was more than happy to take care of those," Nanami dryly remarked.
Discomfort and nausea pooled in your stomach, stale and still, refusing to drain despite your attempts to flush it out.
"Look, if you're upset with me, you can leave," You murmured, turning your back towards him so you didn't have to watch him walk away.
Normally, you never would've found it in you to talk to him like that. To be blunt without burying it by sugarcoating your words. But maybe Suguru had reminded you that you didn't have to feel bad for putting yourself first. For being yourself without considering how anyone else felt about it.
"I'm not upset with you," Nanami replied. Lied. Still strained and stern and barely holding back a scoff.
His footsteps drew closer, and you were tempted to ask him to go.
"I wasn't entirely honest with you," He spoke carefully, every word measured. You didn't turn around. His hand wrapped around your wrist, tugging you back. "I preferred to wait until after the baby was born to properly fuck you."
You blinked.
Breathed a slow exhale.
Tried to convince your brain of what your ears heard him say. And still, all you could manage was a stunned, "What?"
"I don't exactly feel right fucking your cunt when there's another man's child in there," He casually said, still firm, still stiff, a politeness to it that didn't match the blunt and brutal words he was saying.
It got his point across.
He couldn't cum down your throat when he was thinking of where it'd end up.
You didn't know how you felt about it though. Speechless and staring at him, spit looking in the back of your mouth.
"But if it's between me or him," He sighed, footsteps approaching while you stood still, ice melting in the glass when he stopped in front of you. "I'd hope you'd choose me."
"Ken-" You started, and this time, he cut you off with a kiss.
Hands on your waist, possessive and sturdy, holding you in place while his soft lips claimed you.
You shoved down your own unease, the slice of you still thinking that you shouldn't, that this should be a conversation, because he was suddenly dragging you back to your bedroom.
And when he peeled off your clothes, you held up your arms to make it easier. Held your breath when he traced over your swollen breasts and kissed your peaked nipples, wrapping his mouth around it and sucking hard enough to make you gasp.
His perfectly-fitted shirt hit the floor next. Unceremonious. Sitting next to your wrinkled outfit while he undid his belt and dropped it on top. You half expected him to neatly fold everything, maybe even grab a hanger and put everything up in the closet.
Nanami's boxers came off.
Thick cock springing up, veins bulging as it smacked into his neatly trimmed blond pubic hair.
You'd imagined this moment in a lot of ways. In the break room or in his car, spread eagle in his apartment or making love under his probably silk sheets.
But you never fucking imagined it'd start with him yanking the drawer to your nightstand open to grab a bottle of lube and a condom.
"Hands and knees," He murmured, already tearing open the wrapper with his teeth and sheathing his cock in the condom with ease.
Your breasts bounced when you followed his instructions, glancing down at the swell of your stomach while you felt something cold hitting a spot you um, hadn't expected.
"Wha-" You breathed, mouth hanging open when his thumb suddenly traced over your rim.
"Want me to stop?" He asked, and you realized what he'd really meant before.
You swallowed hard, gasping as he pried you open, not quite daring to slide in deeper while he waited for an answer.
"N-no," You answered, stuttering when you felt him slip in. Just enough to steal your breath, to make you squirm and want more.
"You sure?" Nanami hummed, and you nodded.
Slowly, and honestly not entirely sure, but still bobbing your head nevertheless. Your heart spasmed, straining against your ribcage, face flushing as you felt him inch deeper. "Keep going."
Prepping almost felt like a punishment.
Drawn out until you were dazed, begging for him to fuck you, fingered stupid and edged without relief. Nanami wasn't cruel. Just calculated. Knowing how to push until you bent, but never breaking you.
Always asking if you wanted him to continue, just to hear your yes.
There wasn't any soft mood music. No candles or curtains drawn. Just sweat running down your spine and the smack of his hips against your skin while he fucked you in the ass.
It might not have been as romantic as you hoped, but it was intimate, his mouth murmuring that he'd take care of you better than Geto could between lingering lovebites. Being stretched out, split open with each burning pump.
The pain mingling with the pleasure, stuffed too full to think too much, desperate moans of his name falling from your mouth while he left fingerprints on your hips, when his teeth scraped against your skin.
It barely fit, and honestly, it still felt like he was forcing himself in deeper every time. As if he wanted to shape you around him, fuck you until you forgot everything else.
He tugged your hair back, twisting you just enough for you to hold his sharp stare. He clicked his tongue, pausing his thrusts to grab his discarded tie from the bed.
"Don't want your neighbors to complain," Nanami wryly chided you, sweat beading down his forehead making a few strands stick to his face. "Open up."
You wished you hesitated a little more. That your first instinct wasn't to immediately listen to him like you were back at work and he was showing you which document to attach to an email instead of parting your lips so he could push his tie between them.
His hand slid back down your body, around the front this time, between your thighs. His touch was tender, massaging you through the rough rutting, soft when everything else was harsh.
"You like that?" He exhaled hard, a low hah punctuating the question.
"Mhm," You whined the word muffled into his tie.
He chuckled, low and blunt.
"Yeah?" You didn't need to look over your shoulder to picture his expression. The eyebrow arched. The faint smirk. All his chiseled features pulled taut as his thumb dragged over your clit, breathing heavy as he rolled it between his fingers. "I know you've been waiting for this."
Your stomach flipped.
Pulled tight. The pressure building too high, the tightrope you'd been walking on snapping right as he buried himself to the hilt, swept his fingers back over in an intense circle.
You buried your face in the pillow when you came, crying his name and squirming while he fucked you through it, a low groan of your name sending a second shudder through your body while your thighs trembled. Barely supporting your own weight when he finished.
Your head felt hazy, still foggy and fucked out when he pulled away, watching from the condom come off in the corner of your vision when he stood. Left in the wrinkled sheets as he shuffled around behind you, listened to him putting his clothes back on. Attuned to the sounds of him looking around your bathroom until he found a washcloth, cleaning you up with a sigh.
"You should take a nap," He murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll go build our baby's swing now."
Somewhere in the back of your brain, whatever part was still functioning lit up with a sudden realization, a squeamish feeling settling in your stomach as the thought crossed your mind that your baby was only his when it was convenient for him.
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Cw- smut drabble, choking, oral, rough sex, obsessed dom Nanami
Nanami Kento loves to choke your pretty neck, his huge hand around your delicate throat. He loves to watch as his gold wedding ring presses into your skin. Your eyes rolling back in your skull, while your cunt soaks his thick, veiny cock, tight gummy walls pulsing around him, milking him.
He loves how you gasp, the ragged moans, while you're gripping his wrist, your own ring glinting under the lights as you cling tightly, gasping for a breath, only for him to squeeze tighter. You're fading, while his thumb presses your pulse point, blackness blurring the edges of your handsome husband's face.
You feel it, your orgasm coming, making your tummy tense as Nanami shoves his cock so deep, lifting one of your thighs up and rolling his hips. When his leaky reddened tip bullies its way into your walls and hits all your spots, you choke on your cries, cumming all over him, gushing arousal swirling down him.
He releases your throat right when you do, you hear that ringing in your ears as his hazel eyes assess you tenderly. He exhales and leans down, kissing along your neck while your aftershocks grip him, your whines echoing in his ears. Your cunt is dripping down his length as he eases out and back in, lips pressing the marks his hand left.
He leans up and sees tears glimmering on your cheeks, drool slid down the corner of you mouth. He is murmuring - 'darling you're a mess, let me help you' - You weakly nod, still pulsing around him. Nanami swipes your tears and drool, kissing your lips. Your hands slip down the strong muscles of his back, while he slows his thrusts.
Nanami can get feral when it comes to how badly he needs you, but he also knows he so huge and strong. Too strong. He loves to baby you after all of it, loves to pamper you in the shower, get on his knees and kiss his apologies to your cunt, whispering as you cry out - 'Kento!'
'I'm sorry pretty girl,' he'll whisper it to your cunt first. Then kiss up every bit of your body, sandy blond locks dripping as the hot spray hits him, and he caresses the bruises on your throat. They do something to him, his cock throbbing again, pressing on your tummy, and you can't help but want more.
Nanami is gentler after he loses it the first time, but make no mistakes, he's stretching you out on his cock, even as he's holding you againt the tile wall and whispering, 'so beautiful, darling I love you' he can't help but look at the marks he leaves on your body and get harder. 'l-love you, Ken- ngh!' At that, he thickens inside you as he fills you with cum, loving how your nails dig into his skin.
The shower leads to more and more aftercare and love, and the morning is no better, despite him making you pancakes and coffee, the handprint on your neck just makes him want to leave more instead. Your tummies are growling after another round, when he finally realizes you need to eat.
He's bashful and sweet as he feeds you, bite after bite, obsessed with his perfect wife to the point of insanity. Even the syrup on your lips has him lapping it off them later. Needless to say, his days off work are spent inside the house, and inside his wife.
