-PRLV-

He’s got an alarm set for your uploads. The moment a new video drops, his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he excuses himself from whatever—training, missions, conversation—to find a private corner. His hands shake as he clicks the thumbnail. Today’s video: you bending over in a tiny thong, your ass jiggling as you spread your cheeks for the camera, your cunt glistening from a lube bottle you drizzled on yourself.

Choso’s cock is hard before the video even loads fully. He yanks his pants down, his thick shaft springing up, pre-cum beading at the tip. He watches you finger yourself on screen, moaning softly, your tits bouncing with each thrust. His fist wraps around his cock, stroking in rhythm with your fingers. He mutters your name under his breath, his eyes locked on the way your pussy clenches around nothing, waiting for his imaginary cock.

He rewinds your video three times. By the third watch, he’s hunched over, cum splattering onto his knuckles, painting his stomach in thick ropes. His breathing ragged, he swipes through your backlog—yesterday’s video of you riding a dildo, your ass cheeks slapping against your thighs. He starts another stroke, unable to stop, his obsession a wire-thin edge between worship and desperation.

The door clicked open right on time, and Hiromi stepped in, loosening his tie with a tired sigh that melted into a low hum of approval when he spotted you lounging on the couch. 'There you are,' he murmured, his voice gravelly as he shrugged off his jacket. His gaze raked over you, pausing on the way the lace clung to your mound, the cute bows like invitations. He crossed the room in three strides, dropping to his knees in front of you without a word.

You parted your legs instinctively, heart quickening as his large hands slid up your thighs, thumbs brushing the edges of your panties. 'These are new,' he said, fingers tracing the lace pattern, voice thick with want. He didn't wait for your answer, instead, he leaned in, nose grazing the fabric right over your clit. The warmth of his breath made you shiver, arousal already dampening the thin barrier.

Hiromi pressed his mouth against you, lips sealing over the lace as his tongue flicked out. He licked slow and deliberate, the texture of the fabric adding a rough edge to the wet heat. Your hips twitched, a soft whine escaping as he lapped at the damp spot growing under his attention. 'Taste so good even through this,' he growled, sucking gently on the material, pulling it taut against your folds. The sensation was maddening, his tongue pressing the lace into your slit, tracing your entrance without mercy.

You gripped the couch cushions, thighs trembling as he worked you over. He hooked one finger under the bow at your hip, tugging the panties aside just enough to expose your clit, but he kept licking through the fabric mostly, the friction building pressure that had you grinding against his face. 'Hiromi—please,' you gasped, but he just hummed, the vibration buzzing through the lace straight to your core. He sucked harder, tongue circling relentlessly until your orgasm crashed over you, soaking the pretty pink material.

He pulled back only when you were panting, lips shiny, eyes locked on the ruined panties. 'Wear these tomorrow too,' he said, standing to kiss you, the taste of your arousal faint on his tongue.

The next morning, you chose a tight top that hugged your breasts, nipples pebbled against the fabric, and black lace panties with scalloped edges and a tiny red bow at the front—like a gift waiting to be unwrapped. No pants, of course, just bare legs crossed as you sipped coffee at the kitchen table. Hiromi emerged from the bedroom, hair still tousled from sleep, and paused in the doorway, his cock already stirring in his boxers at the sight.

'Come here,' he commanded softly, pulling you up and backing you against the counter. His hands gripped your ass, lifting you slightly so your legs wrapped around his waist. He was hard, pressing against you through his underwear, and he started grinding immediately, slow rolls of his hips that dragged his length along the lace covering your pussy. The friction was electric, the bow catching on his shaft as he humped against you like he couldn't get enough.

You moaned into his shoulder, arms around his neck as he rutted harder, the dry heat building between you. His tip nudged your clit through the layers, over and over, the lace growing slick with your combined arousal leaking through. 'Feel that?' he breathed, nipping your ear. 'Your pretty panties making me throb.' He pinned you firmer, hips snapping in a rhythm that had the counter digging into your back, pleasure coiling tight.

It didn't take long—his breaths grew ragged, and with a grunt, he came, hot spurts soaking his boxers and seeping into your lace. The warmth triggered your own release, clit pulsing against the wet fabric as you clenched around nothing. He held you there, still grinding lazily through the aftershocks, kissing your neck. 'Gonna think about this all day at work,' he whispered, finally setting you down with a smirk.

That afternoon, while you were out running errands, Hiromi sat in his office, the door locked, blinds drawn. The case files blurred before him, his mind replaying the morning's hump against your lacy black panties. He shifted in his chair, cock aching, and glanced at his briefcase where he'd stashed a pair you'd 'accidentally' left in the laundry, white lace with delicate bows, still carrying your faint scent.

He couldn't resist. Unzipping his pants, he freed his thick length, wrapping the soft fabric around it. The lace scratched lightly, teasing, as he stroked himself with your panties, imagining your ass in them, the way they'd hug your curves. Pre-cum beaded at his tip, soaking into the material, and he pumped faster, thumb rubbing over the bow like it was your clit. 'Fuck,' he muttered, head falling back. The secrecy heightened it, the risk of a knock at the door, the thrill of using your cute underwear to jerk off.

His hips bucked, and he came hard, ropes of cum splattering the lace, filling the folds until it dripped. He milked every drop, panting, before tucking the soiled panties away, a guilty pleasure he'd bring home for you to find later.

By evening, you were back in an oversized t-shirt, this time with soft blue panties, silky lace with ribbon bows that tied at the sides. Hiromi devoured you with his eyes the moment he walked in, the bulge in his pants evident. 'Bedroom. Now,' he ordered, voice rough.

He had you on all fours before you could blink, shirt rucked up to expose your ass. His fingers yanked at the bow on one side, ripping the tie loose with a sharp tug. The lace parted, one half falling away, but he didn't remove them fully—instead, he pushed the ruined fabric aside, exposing your dripping pussy while the other bow-held side stayed clinging to your hip.

'Look at you, all pretty and ready,' he groaned, freeing his cock and lining up. He thrust in deep, the half-on panties framing your stretched entrance, lace brushing his shaft with every snap of his hips. You cried out, pushing back as he fucked you hard, the fabric adding a tantalizing drag. His hand came down on your ass, spanking lightly, then gripping to pull you onto him.

He pounded relentlessly, the bed creaking, your walls clenching around his thickness. 'Gonna rip more tomorrow,' he promised, reaching around to rub your clit, the lace from the displaced side tickling your skin. Your orgasm hit like a wave, milking him until he followed, burying deep and flooding your pussy with his cum. It leaked out around him, staining the torn panties further.

'Hey, sis,' he calls without looking up, his voice casual but laced with that playful edge. 'Dad and Mom are out for the weekend. We're on our own.' You nod, dropping your bag and heading to the kitchen for a snack, but he pauses the game. 'Wait up. You look beat. Come sit.' He pats his lap like it's the most normal thing, and you hesitate only a second before complying—why not? He's your brother, sort of, and he's always been affectionate in his weird way.

As you settle on his thighs, his arms loop around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You're wearing your skirt today, the pleated kind that sways when you walk, and you feel the heat of him through his jeans. 'Comfy?' he murmurs, his breath warm on your neck. You mumble a yes, shifting slightly, unaware of how your ass grinds against the growing bulge in his pants. Gojo bites back a groan, his hands sliding up your sides, thumbs grazing the undersides of your breasts under your blouse. 'You know, that skirt's cute, but it's kinda restrictive. Why don't you ditch the panties? More freedom, right? Like those shorts you have—no lines, super comfy.'

Your cheeks flush, but you're too clueless to catch the innuendo. 'Uh, okay? If you think so.' You stand briefly, slipping off your underwear under the skirt, folding them neatly before sitting back down. The fabric now brushes directly against your bare pussy, and Gojo's eyes darken as he watches, his cock twitching at the thought. He resumes the game, but one hand drifts lower, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt. 'Let's play something fun. A game just for us.'

You tilt your head. 'What kind?' He chuckles, low and throaty. 'Tickle tag, but with a twist. I touch you here'—his fingers suddenly dip under your skirt, brushing your inner thigh—'and you have to stay still or you lose. Winner gets to pick dinner.' It sounds silly, innocent even, so you agree, giggling nervously. But as his hand inches higher, he finds your smooth, bare folds, parting them gently to circle your clit with his fingertip. You jolt, a soft gasp escaping. 'S-satoru, that's... not tickling.'

'Shh, it's part of the game. See? You're squirming already—losing points.' He presses firmer, rubbing slow circles over your swelling clit, feeling it throb under his touch. Your body betrays you, thighs trembling as wetness gathers, coating his fingers. You bite your lip, confused by the warm ache building in your core, but you don't stop him—it's just a game, right? Gojo's other hand holds the controller loosely, but his focus is on you, watching your face contort in innocent pleasure, your breaths coming quicker. He dips lower, sliding one finger along your slit, gathering your slick before returning to tease your clit, flicking it lightly to make you whimper.

'Feels weird... but kinda good?' you murmur, hips twitching involuntarily. He grins against your shoulder, nipping the skin there. 'That's the point. Keep still, or I win.' But he doesn't let you win—his rubbing intensifies, pinching your clit gently, rolling it between thumb and forefinger until your pussy clenches on nothing, a rush of arousal dripping down your thighs. You squirm harder, mewling, and he laughs. 'Told you. I win. Now, for my prize...' He shifts you forward slightly, unzipping his jeans to free his hard cock, thick and veined, pressing it against your bare ass under the skirt.

Before you can question, he guides you back down, trapping his shaft between your cheeks and against your soaked pussy. 'New round—lap riding. Bounce a little to help me relax.' Clueless as ever, you nod, starting to rock your hips as if it's playful, but each movement slides his cock along your folds, the head nudging your clit with every grind. Gojo groans, hands gripping your hips to control the pace, dry humping you in earnest. Your skirt bunches up, exposing where his dick rubs your slick entrance, coating him in your juices without penetrating—yet.

'Gojo... it's getting hot down there,' you whine, your clit pulsing from the friction, body heating up as unfamiliar pleasure coils tight. He thrusts up harder, his cock sliding faster between your thighs, bumping your pussy lips, the tip occasionally catching on your hole. 'Yeah? That's 'cause you're doing it right. Keep going, sis—make me feel good.' Sweat beads on his forehead, his breaths ragged as he uses you, the clueless girl on his lap, to chase his release. Your own body responds, clit grinding against his length until you shatter, crying out in surprise as your orgasm hits, pussy spasming and squirting a little onto his cock.

Even in the middle of gunfire, you were bickering. But your bodies moved in sync, covering each other without thinking, like muscle memory. It pissed you both off that it worked.

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Hours later, the central chamber was quiet except for the faint, distant growls of zombies outside, slamming against steel doors and clawing at vents. You ignored it as you rummaged through a desk cluttered with vials.

“Well, look at this,” you teased, lifting a flask of glowing liquid. “Maybe it’s the cure. Or maybe it makes you less of a brooding asshole.” You waved it toward his face. “Come on, Kennedy, take a whiff.”

“Don’t—” he snapped, but you’d already popped the cork and shoved it closer.

The scent was sharp, heady, intoxicating. Leon staggered, gripping the desk like his knees had buckled. His chest heaved, eyes darker than you’d ever seen them.

“…What the fuck did you just—” His voice broke, low and rough, almost a growl. His eyes dragged down your body, lingering on every curve your clothes clung to. “…shit.”

You frowned. “It’s just a—Leon?”

In a heartbeat, he had you pinned against the desk, his hand slamming the table beside your head. His breath was hot on your cheek, his pupils blown wide.

“Do you have any idea what you made me breathe in?” he rasped, voice shaking with hunger.

Your pulse skipped. “N-No… I just—”

“An aphrodisiac,” he growled, pressing closer, his thigh shoving between yours. “And now all I can think about is you.”

The muffled snarls outside grew louder, fists slamming against the sealed doors. The infected were close—close enough that you could hear their teeth gnashing, claws scraping metal.

And Leon didn’t care.

His mouth crashed against yours, desperate and consuming, his tongue forcing its way in as his hands tore at your shirt. His gloves hit the floor. His palms found your bare skin, grabbing, kneading, worshiping.

“Fuck—you drive me insane,” he muttered against your lips, shoving your pants down with urgent hands. “Couldn’t stand you before. Always fighting me, always mouthing off—”

You gasped when his fingers slid between your legs, finding you wet. He groaned, dragging his mouth down your throat. “And you’re this ready for me?”

You tried to steady your breathing, but the growls outside only made it worse—the knowledge that monsters were right there, oblivious, while Leon was losing his mind inside you.

“Maybe I hated you,” you whispered, hips rocking against his hand, “but I always wondered what you’d be like in bed, Kennedy.”

That did it. His control snapped.

With one hard motion, he shoved you onto the cold lab table, pants yanked down. His belt hit the floor, his cock thick and flushed as he freed it, leaking with need.

Your breath hitched at the sight.

“Eyes up,” he growled, catching you staring.

Then he was inside you in one brutal thrust, stretching you wide, forcing a cry from your lips.

“Fuck—Leon!”

The doors rattled outside, the zombies snarling louder, but all you could hear was the *slap* of his hips against yours, his groans muffled against your neck.

“So goddamn tight,” he hissed, biting your shoulder hard enough to bruise. “Like your body was made for me.”

Your nails raked down his back as he fucked into you, the table screeching against the floor with every thrust. The infected roared outside, clawing at the walls, unaware of what was happening within—how you were moaning, trembling, unraveling under the man you swore you hated.

“Admit it,” Leon growled, his pace rough, merciless. “You like this. You like me losing control inside you.”

“Yes!” you moaned, clinging tighter to him. “God, yes, Leon!”

He smirked, fucking you harder, his thumb circling your clit. “And you call me grumpy. Look at you—screaming for the guy you couldn’t stand five minutes ago.”

Your walls clamped around him, and you shattered with a cry, the sound mixing with the monsters howling outside.

“Fuck—! ” Leon groaned, thrusts faltering as he spilled inside you, hot and deep, groaning your name like a curse.

For a moment, all you heard was the echo of zombies growling and your own ragged breathing. His forehead pressed to yours, both of you sweaty, shaking, still joined.

“…We should get back to the mission,” you panted, smirking weakly.

Leon kissed you again, slower this time, like he never wanted to stop. “Yeah,” he whispered against your lips. “After round two.”

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Leon have been on my mind lately.

Like have you seen his muscles?

Caleb notices your thighs rubbing together and whispers softly:

“Are you feeling restless?”

You nod shyly, fever-glazed eyes meeting his. That’s all it takes.

Caleb kisses your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips, slow and warm. His tongue brushes gently against yours, tasting you with patience as your hands fist his shirt.He touches your waist, fingertips dragging beneath your top.

"You're burning up..."

His palm is cool against your skin, large hand sliding up over your ribs and under your breast, cupping it gently through the heat.

Caleb moves over you slowly, letting you feel his weight. He keeps his body close, mouth kissing down your throat, chest against chest so you can feel the slow beat of his heart calming you.

His fingers hook into your waistband and pull your shorts down carefully. He drags them over your thighs, kissing each inch revealed.

"Tell me if it's too much, pipsqueak. We can stop anytime."

He parts your thighs, nestling between them, letting his hand drift down. His fingers stroke your slick heat slowly, gently teasing your folds, circling your clit with lazy pressure that makes your back arch.

When he slides a finger inside you, it’s so gentle it makes your chest ache. He watches your face, curling the digit slightly and whispering,

"Still with me? You’re so soft… so warm inside."

He makes love to you slowly, pressing in deep with his cock. Your legs wrap around his hips automatically. He keeps his forehead against yours, holding your hand in his. Every thrust is unhurried, smooth, making your walls flutter around him.

His mouth kisses every inch of you: temple, jaw, neck, collarbone, even the curve of your shoulder.

"You're perfect like this," he murmurs, rocking into you, his hips rolling fluidly, your bodies slick with sweat.

You whimper his name when you come, clinging to him. He follows shortly after, burying himself deep and trembling slightly against your feverish body.

Caleb doesn't pull out right away. He stays inside you, bodies tangled, kissing your forehead and stroking your hip as you come down from the high.

He wraps the blanket around you both, whispering softly:

“Get some rest. I’ve got you. Always.”

Your back straightens instantly, but Dante masks it by pretending to refill your wine. His fingers curl just right inside you, stroking your walls with sinful precision. He’s grinning, like this is all a game. The tablecloth hides your trembling thighs, your hands clenched in your lap, trying not to let anyone hear the slick sounds of his fingers pumping into your soaked pussy.

He grazes your clit with his thumb, smirking when your breath catches. The pressure makes your clit throb wildly, aching for more. It’s too much and not enough.

"You’re dripping," he murmurs, voice thick with lust. "You want me that bad in front of all these people?"

You can barely nod.

Then, he pulls his fingers out slow, dragging your slick across your inner thigh just to tease, then he licks his fingers clean with a hum of approval. Still keeping his cool, Dante stands up.

"Excuse me," he says casually to the table. "I think I tore something in my jacket. Gonna need her help with it."

Everyone barely looks up. You follow him, heart hammering.

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The door to the bathroom shuts and clicks locked. You barely have time to catch your breath before Dante spins you around and yanks your hips toward the sink. He presses your front against the cool marble, his body crowding yours from behind.

“That needy little pussy’s been crying for me all night,” he growls by your ear, grabbing your chin to make you look up.

The mirror reflects your flushed face, your dress bunched around your waist, and Dante towering behind you, his eyes full of fire.

You smirk, trying to tease. “Who said I wanted you to do anything about it?”

But your voice betrays you. It's breathless. Desperate. A shaky little whimper escapes when his fingers trace down your folds again, and he chuckles.

“Yeah? Then why are you dripping down your thighs like a girl in heat?”

You bite your lip, watching in the mirror as he lowers his zipper, freeing his thick cock, already flushed, leaking, slick with your mess from earlier. He rubs the tip through your folds, letting your slick coat him.

“Dante,” you whisper, your hips pushing back instinctively, needing more friction.

“Say it louder.” He slaps the head of his cock against your clit, making you gasp out loud.

“Fuck—Dante, please. I need you.”

That’s all he needs.

He sinks into you from behind in one slow, delicious thrust, filling you so deep you feel the pressure bloom in your belly. The stretch makes your mouth fall open, a filthy moan spilling from your lips and echoing against the tiled walls.

The mirror reflects the moment perfectly—your back arched, your lips parted, your eyes fluttering, and Dante, grinning like the devil himself.

“Look at that face,” he growls, snapping his hips hard. “Look at how you melt for me.”

You do. And it drives you crazy.

Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your cunt clenching wet and tight around him. The sound of skin slapping against skin is filthy, mixed with the wet squelch of your slick and the ragged moans tearing from your throat.

“God, you’re so deep,” you whimper, bracing yourself on the sink, your knees buckling. “You feel so fucking good..I can’t... I’m gonna...”

“Yeah? Gonna cum already, baby?” Dante’s voice is rough, breath hot against your neck as he drives into you harder. “You love being bent over for me, stuffed full while you watch yourself get ruined.”

He grabs your hair, tugging your head up so your eyes stay locked on the mirror. “Watch me break you open.”

You sob out a moan, high and trembling as your orgasm crashes over you. Your walls clamp down, squeezing him so tight he growls through his teeth, struggling to hold himself back.

“Oh fuck—Dante—!”

Your legs shake violently, your release soaking both your thighs and his cock. He doesn’t stop, fucking you through it, drawing out every wave of pleasure until your moans dissolve into helpless whimpers.

Then his thrusts stutter, growls turning guttural. “Gonna fill this sweet little pussy, fuck, I’m gonna make you drip for the rest of the damn night.”

He slams into you one last time, holding himself deep as he cums hard, thick ropes of heat spilling into your trembling cunt. You both watch it in the mirror, his teeth gritted, your expression dazed and wrecked.

You gasp, voice hoarse. “That... was not helping you with your clothes.”

He laughs, still catching his breath. “Pretty sure I fixed something.”

He slips out slow, and you both groan at the feeling, his cum already dripping from your swollen folds. He grins at the sight and grabs a hand towel to clean you up, all while kissing the back of your neck.

“You think we can sneak out early?” he asks, zipping up.

You blink at him in the mirror. “You really want them to see me limp out after that?”

He smirks, leaning in for one last kiss.

He fucks to relieve stress. And husband stress? Oh, it’s vicious. He’ll bend you over the kitchen counter after a long day and fuck you so hard your legs give out. He won’t even stop. Just pulls you up by the waist and keeps going.

His mouth is sinful. Nanami eats pussy like it’s his second job, tongue deep, slow at first, then relentless. His face buried between your thighs as he groans, “You taste better than anything this world has to offer.”

He loves making you come with just his fingers. Long, thick digits curling perfectly inside you while his other hand presses on your stomach to feel how deep he’s reaching. “So tight for me,” he groans, watching your face twist in pleasure.

Filthy talk? Oh, it slips out when he’s fucking you raw. “Look at you, taking all of me like a good wife.” “This cunt was made for me.” “You like it when I use you, don’t you?” And when you moan his name? That’s when he loses it.

His breeding kink is no joke. Husband Nanami is obsessed with finishing inside you. It’s primal. Deep thrusts, fingers digging into your hips, and a low grunt as he fills you to the brim. “Gonna knock you up,” he growls, still moving even as you tremble beneath him.

And after? He doesn’t pull out. He loves keeping it in, wrapping you up in his arms while you’re still full of him, whispering filth into your ear. “Let it drip out tomorrow. Right now, it stays inside.”

On special nights, anniversaries, birthdays, he gets feral. Multiple rounds. You tied up in silk. Him edging you with that deep, calm voice. “Not yet, sweetheart. You’ll take what I give you and be grateful.”

Despite how filthy it gets, there’s a moment afterward when he gently brushes your hair back, kisses your forehead, and says in that low, smooth voice: “You were perfect.” Then he runs you a bath like nothing happened.

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Nervously says he’s never done this before—but when he gets confident? He’s dangerously good with his fingers.

Always asks for consent. "Can I touch you here? Like this?” but moans like a sinner when you say yes.

Jerks when you tug his hair, eyes wide behind his glasses, letting out a low gasp that surprises even him.

Gets off on your praise, calling him “such a good boy” makes him whimper and go absolutely feral.

Secretly obsessed with going down on you, loves learning what makes you squirm, all while taking mental notes like it’s his final exam.

Reads smutty fanfiction just to understand how to please you better (and then awkwardly admits it… before proving he learned a lot).

Likes when you sit on his lap while he studies, bouncing just a little while he tries to stay focused until he snaps and bends you over the desk.

Stutters when you whisper naughty things into his ear, but the moment the door shuts, he shoves his books aside and says, “Get on the bed.”

Moans your name softly and repeatedly when he’s inside you, like it’s the only thing grounding him.

Slow and thorough, fingers curled *just right*, tongue desperate and messy as he buries his face between your thighs.

Leaves bite marks on your inner thighs but apologizes right after, while his fingers keep pumping into you.

Can’t stop shaking after he makes you come for the first time, holding you like you’re too precious to touch again.

Accidentally discovers he has a choking kink when you place his hand around your neck and now he’s obsessed.

Loves when you ride him slowly, glasses sliding down, his hands gripping your hips like you’re the only thing keeping him sane.

Wants to film it. “F-For us… for research…” but can barely hold the camera steady once you start moaning his name.

Whimpers and bites his knuckles to stay quiet when you go down on him, but he always finishes with your name on his tongue.

Buries his face in your neck after, whispering how much he loves you and how he wants to spend every night making you feel like this.

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makes you look in the mirror while he takes you from behind, one hand gripping your throat gently, saying, “Watch how beautiful you are when you come.”

says “good girl” with a smirk every time you obey, then punishes you with kisses when you don’t.

loves marking you up, lips, teeth, fingertips leaving trails down your neck and thighs like art.

groans your name like a prayer when he’s deep inside you, hand tangled in your hair, hips snapping hard and slow.

uses his mouth like a weapon, whether it’s worshipping you between your legs or kissing you so hard you forget your name.

makes you beg for release, holding you on the edge, licking his lips as he murmurs, “Not yet, baby. I want to hear you cry for it.”

grabs your thighs and spreads them open like it’s his god-given right, saying, “This is mine. Every part of you belongs to me.”

loves when you ride him, hands behind his head, watching you fall apart on top of him with a cocky smirk.

bites down on your shoulder when he comes, growling low against your skin, then presses kisses over the mark.

doesn’t stop after one round. He’ll keep going until your legs are shaking and your voice is hoarse from screaming his name.

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You step onto the campus grounds, the early morning sun casting long shadows across the bustling courtyard. With a deep breath, you clutch your bag a little tighter, bracing yourself for what you know is coming. It’s become routine by now—college life should be a fresh start, but for you, it's an ongoing battle. And that battle has a name: Suguru Geto.

You spot him almost immediately, leaning casually against a lamppost with his friends, his dark hair falling lazily across his forehead. He’s smirking, as usual, already exuding an air of authority. His gaze sweeps across the courtyard until it lands on you. Your heart skips a beat despite yourself, and you can feel the familiar rush of adrenaline and nerves.

As Suguru pushes off the lamppost and starts walking in your direction, his friends snicker, already anticipating the show.

“There you are, loser,” he calls out, loud enough for those around you to hear. His voice is casual, as though this were just another day of teasing, another moment of him singling you out.

You swallow hard, the butterflies in your stomach doing somersaults as he approaches. Your cheeks burn, not from embarrassment, but from the strange thrill of seeing him up close. There’s something about the way he moves, the confidence in his step that has you unable to look away—even though you know what's coming.

Suguru stops just in front of you, towering over you with that trademark smirk. “Didn’t think you’d make it today. Thought you finally got smart and dropped out.”

His words are sharp, cutting through the air, but they don’t sting like they should. Instead, your heart pounds in your chest, betraying how much you crave his attention, even if it’s through insults.

“I—I’m here,” you manage to mumble, trying to keep your voice steady. You lower your gaze, hoping he doesn’t notice how flustered you are.

“Of course you are,” he scoffs, stepping even closer. You feel the tip of his shoe nudge yours, a clear power play. “How could you stay away, huh? Always following me around like a lost puppy.”

His friends laugh, and you know you should feel humiliated. But instead, all you can focus on is how close he is, how his scent—a mix of cologne and something uniquely Suguru—fills the air between you. If only he knew how much you looked forward to these moments.

Suguru’s hand reaches out, flicking the strap of your bag just enough to make you lose grip, and it tumbles to the ground. “Oops,” he says with mock innocence. “You’re so clumsy. Can’t even hold onto your stuff.”

As you bend down to pick it up, you hear him chuckle under his breath. Normally, being treated like this would have anyone seething with anger or sadness. But not you. In some twisted way, this is the only interaction you get with him, and it’s enough. Your secret crush on him is a guilty pleasure, one you know you shouldn’t have, but can’t shake off.

As you rise, your eyes meet his, and for a brief second, you wonder if he sees it—if he can sense that you’re not like the others. That you don’t mind. That, in a way, you look forward to these encounters.

But then the smirk returns, and he turns to leave. “See you around, loser,” he throws over his shoulder, his friends following behind him. You watch him go, your heart still racing.

Even though you’ve just been humiliated, part of you can’t wait for the next time.

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You were sitting in the corner of the campus café, absentmindedly stirring your coffee as the hum of student chatter filled the air. It was supposed to be a quick break before your next class, but then you heard a familiar voice.

Suguru.

Your heart skipped a beat as you saw him sitting at a nearby table with his friends. You hadn’t planned on paying attention, but when you caught the topic of their conversation, your curiosity spiked.

“So, Suguru,” one of his friends said with a teasing grin, “you gotta tell us. What’s your type? You’re always brushing girls off like they don’t exist.”

You felt your ears perk up, and instinctively, you shifted in your seat, trying to make it look like you were still minding your own business. But your attention was laser-focused now, every fiber of your being tuned into what Suguru might say next.

“Yeah, come on, man,” another friend chimed in. “There’s gotta be someone who catches your eye. Or are you just too good for everyone?”

Suguru leaned back in his chair, that ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. He seemed unfazed by the question, his eyes lazily scanning the room as though thinking it over. You couldn’t help but bite your lip, anticipation gnawing at you. What if you fit his type? What if you didn’t?

Finally, Suguru spoke, his tone casual. “I guess I like a girl who’s not too easy to figure out.”

Your heart sped up. Not easy to figure out? What did that mean?

His friend raised an eyebrow. “That’s vague, man. You gotta give us more than that.”

Suguru chuckled softly. “I mean, someone who’s not all over me, you know? Confident but not in my face about it. Someone who’s got her own thing going on.”

You subtly grabbed your phone, opening a blank note and typing down his words as discreetly as possible. Confident…has her own thing going on…not too easy to figure out…

Suguru’s eyes glinted as he continued, leaning forward slightly. “She’s gotta be tough, but not loud about it. I don’t need someone who constantly tries to get my attention. I’ll notice her when she’s just doing her thing.”

Your fingers hovered over the screen, digesting his words. Tough but not loud. Someone who doesn’t need to try too hard. You wondered if you could be that kind of person. You certainly never tried to get his attention on purpose—but then again, was that what kept him bullying you?

His friend laughed, shaking his head. “So, basically a girl who can handle your attitude, huh?”

Suguru shrugged, smirking. “Something like that. And maybe someone who can surprise me.”

Surprise him? You furrowed your brow. That was a tricky one. What would surprise someone like Suguru, who always seemed so unfazed by everything?

The conversation drifted after that, but you were already lost in thought, replaying his words over and over. You couldn’t help but wonder—could you be that girl? Could you show Suguru that you had more to offer than what he saw when he teased you? Maybe, just maybe, there was a way to catch his attention without changing too much of who you were.

You glanced back at him, his confident posture and careless expression still making your heart race. One thing was certain: you were going to try.

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The next morning, you woke up before the sun had even fully risen, your heart already racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Today was different. Today, you had a plan.

You tiptoed into your sister's room, gently nudging her awake. She groaned, rubbing her eyes as she propped herself up. "Why are you waking me up this early?" she mumbled, still half-asleep.

You smiled, trying to sound casual. “I just thought… maybe you could help me with some makeup? You know, just for fun. I kinda want to look pretty today.”

Your sister raised an eyebrow, still a little groggy but clearly surprised. “Since when do you care about makeup?”

You shrugged, avoiding her gaze. “I dunno. Just felt like changing things up.”

After some teasing and half-hearted grumbling, she eventually agreed. You sat in front of her vanity, letting her work her magic. As the brush swept across your cheeks and the eyeliner flicked along your lashes, you couldn’t help but glance at yourself in the mirror. It was subtle, but enough to make you feel… different. Maybe even confident.

By the time she finished, you barely recognized yourself. You looked put-together, polished, like someone who could easily fit into Suguru’s idea of a girl who “had her own thing going on.”

Your sister stood back, admiring her work. “There. You look amazing. Who’s this for, anyway? Anyone special?”

You shook your head quickly, laughing nervously. “No, no one. I just wanted to do it for myself.”

She gave you a knowing look, but didn’t press further. “Well, whoever it’s for, they’re gonna notice you.”

That’s what you hoped for, too.

..

Arriving on campus, you felt a little more self-conscious than usual. Every time someone’s gaze lingered a little too long, you wondered if they noticed the makeup, if you looked different from your usual self. Your heart pounded as you scanned the courtyard for Suguru, anticipation swirling in your stomach.

Then, you saw him—leaning against the same lamppost as yesterday, his familiar group of friends surrounding him. You took a deep breath, squaring your shoulders and walking in their direction, hoping that maybe today he’d see you in a new light.

But as soon as you came into view, his eyes found yours. A flicker of something—was it surprise?—crossed his face before it quickly turned back into his usual smirk.

“Well, well, look who it is,” Suguru said, pushing off the lamppost as he strolled toward you. His friends snickered behind him, already sensing something was coming. “You trying out a new look today?”

Your throat tightened, nerves buzzing under your skin. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice. Maybe—just maybe—he’d say something nice. Maybe he’d notice the effort you’d put in, even if he didn’t say it outright.

Suguru stopped in front of you, his eyes scanning your face with an expression you couldn’t quite read. For a second, hope bubbled in your chest.

Then he laughed. Loud, sharp, and cruel.

“What’s this? You think a little makeup is gonna change who you are?” He stepped closer, his voice dripping with condescension. “You look pathetic.”

The word hit you like a punch to the gut. You blinked, feeling your face heat up—not from the flustered crush you were used to, but from the sting of his words.

“I mean, come on,” he continued, still smirking. “Who are you trying to impress? Me? That’s just sad.”

You couldn’t move. Every word felt like it was tearing through the fragile confidence you’d built up that morning. His friends laughed along with him, their voices a distant echo as you stood frozen, your heart sinking.

Suguru tilted his head, as if waiting for a reaction, but all you could do was stand there, cheeks burning, your gaze fixed on the ground. You had hoped—no, expected—something different. But now, you just felt… humiliated.

With a final scoff, Suguru turned away, his interest in you fading as quickly as it had come. “Better luck next time, loser."

As he walked off, you stayed rooted in place, trying to keep the tears from welling up. You had tried so hard to get his attention, but now, you weren’t sure it had been worth it at all.

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You barely made it to the bathroom before the tears started spilling over. The second the door closed behind you, you rushed into one of the stalls, slamming the lock shut. The cool metal felt grounding under your fingertips as you pressed your back against the door, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor.

The floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. Your chest ached, the humiliation twisting and knotting inside you. Hot tears streamed down your face, your vision blurring as you buried your head in your hands.

Your makeup. The hours spent preparing, the hopeful glances in the mirror that morning—it was all for nothing.

You felt the sting of your eyeliner and mascara mixing with the tears, smudging and running down your cheeks. You wiped at your face furiously, only to make it worse. Black streaks stained your fingers as your sobs grew louder, echoing in the empty bathroom.

Why had you thought this would work? Why had you convinced yourself that Suguru would see you differently, even for a second? He had laughed in your face, torn down every bit of hope you had built up.

Pathetic. The word echoed in your mind, replaying over and over.

You weren’t tough. You weren’t confident. You were just the same person he bullied every day, and no amount of makeup or effort could change that.

A sharp sob escaped your throat, and you pressed your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound. You hated how vulnerable you felt—alone, broken down by the person you secretly admired.

You sniffled, feeling the wetness on your cheeks, smearing the once-pristine makeup your sister had applied with care. There was no use trying to fix it now. Everything was ruined.

As the tears slowed and the sobs quieted, the rawness in your chest remained. You didn’t know how long you’d been sitting there, but the cold bathroom stall felt like a strange refuge, a place where you could fall apart without anyone seeing.

Maybe you should just give up liking your own bully.

..

After that day, you made a decision—you weren’t going to waste any more time on Suguru. It wasn’t easy to let go of feelings that had been festering for so long, but his cruel laughter and the sting of his words were more than enough to finally shake you awake.

Since then, you’d managed to avoid him. You memorized his usual routes around campus, always taking another hallway or exiting through a different door. Even if you caught a glimpse of him from a distance, you turned your head or ducked into the nearest building. For days, you managed to keep out of his line of sight, and for the first time, it felt like you had a sliver of control.

No more Suguru Geto. No more being his punching bag.

But on one particular afternoon, just as classes had ended and you were gathering your things, you felt a sharp tug on your arm. Startled, you barely had time to react before you were yanked backward, stumbling as someone pulled you out of the crowd. Your heart jumped into your throat when you saw who it was.

Suguru.

Without a word, he dragged you down the hallway, his grip tight and unyielding, his expression unreadable. You tried to pull away, panic rising in your chest, but his hold on you only tightened.

"Suguru, what the fuck are you—" you started, but he cut you off with a harsh glare, his jaw clenched, clearly not in the mood for explanations.

He pulled you into one of the campus’s old, rarely used classrooms. The door slammed shut behind you as he shoved you inside, trapping you in the space with him. The classroom was dusty and forgotten, with old desks piled up and dim light filtering through dirty windows. It felt claustrophobic, and your heart pounded as you turned to face him.

Suguru looked furious. His usually calm, smirking demeanor was gone, replaced by something colder, sharper. His eyes bore into yours with a strange intensity, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Why the hell have you been avoiding me?" he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You blinked, caught off guard. Of all the things you’d expected, this confrontation was not one of them. "What—what do you mean?"

“You know exactly what I mean," he snapped, stepping closer. "Don’t play dumb."

His anger was palpable, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice. "I—I just... I needed space. You made it pretty clear how you feel about me."

Suguru’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, he seemed taken aback. "What are you talking about?"

You clenched your fists, suddenly finding the courage to say what had been boiling inside you since that day. "You called me pathetic, Suguru! You humiliated me in front of everyone, laughed in my face! What more is there to say?"

For a brief second, his expression faltered, but it quickly hardened again. "That’s no reason to just disappear."

You stared at him, disbelief washing over you. “Why does it even matter to you? I thought you didn’t care.”

Suguru’s gaze darkened, his frustration evident. "It matters," he said through gritted teeth, though his voice was quieter now, almost as if he didn’t want to admit it. "And I don’t like being ignored."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru’s words sank in. The sheer audacity of his anger—his claim that you had no right to avoid him—boiled something deep within you. For days, you had dealt with the sting of humiliation, replaying his cruel laughter over and over in your head. And now, here he was, angry because you had taken control, because you had the nerve to walk away?

Suddenly, something snapped inside you. Without thinking, you swung your hand, and the sharp sound of your palm connecting with his cheek echoed through the room.

Suguru’s head snapped to the side from the force of the slap, and for a moment, everything was still. You stood there, your breath coming in ragged gasps, your hand trembling from the adrenaline. It was the first time you had ever fought back against him.

But that moment of silence didn’t last.

In an instant, Suguru’s rage flared. His eyes darkened, and before you could even blink, his hand shot out, gripping you roughly by the hair. You gasped as the sharp pain radiated through your scalp, your head forced back to meet his furious gaze.

"You really shouldn’t have done that," he growled.

Your heart hammered in your chest, but despite the fear coursing through you, a flicker of defiance still burned. You glared back at him, refusing to let him see you cower.

Suguru’s grip tightened, and he leaned in, his breath hot against your face as his voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You think you’re brave now? Pathetic," he spat. "You’ve always been pathetic. And what’s worse is that you actually thought putting on some makeup and acting like someone else would change anything. Like I wouldn’t notice."

His words cut deep, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape the hold he had on you. His hand tugged harder at your hair, and you winced, biting your lip to keep from crying out.

"You think I didn’t know?" he continued, his sneer twisting into something crueler. "It’s obvious you’ve had a crush on me this whole time. You practically throw yourself at me every time I walk by. It’s pathetic how you thought you could hide it."

Your stomach dropped. The blood drained from your face as the reality of his words hit you. He had known all along. Every glance, every small interaction you’d thought was hidden… he had seen it. And worse, he had mocked you for it.

"Is that why you’re always following me around, huh?" Suguru’s voice was laced with contempt. "Thinking you’d have a chance? You’re delusional."

Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Suguru's grip on your hair tightened, his eyes burning with a dark intensity. The sharp sting against your scalp made your breath hitch, but it wasn’t just the pain that had you reeling—it was the look in his eyes, the way his lips curled into that familiar smirk, but now, there was something more dangerous behind it.

"You really like me, huh?" he sneered, his voice low, almost a purr. His face was so close now that you could feel the heat radiating off him, the tension crackling between you like electricity. "All this time… trying to get my attention."

Your heart thudded painfully, but before you could muster a response, his smirk deepened. His thumb brushed against your cheek, rough but deliberate. "If you like me that much, you need to prove it. Show me how much you really do."

Before you could even process his words, Suguru’s lips crashed against yours. The kiss was rough, almost punishing, as he claimed your mouth with an intensity that left you breathless. There was no softness, no hesitation—it was fierce, filled with the pent-up tension that had been building between you two for so long.

You froze for a moment, overwhelmed by the sudden rush of sensation, but then his hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer. Your body responded instinctively, melting into the kiss despite the chaos in your mind. His touch, rough yet possessive, sent a shiver down your spine.

Suguru’s lips moved against yours with a desperate hunger, as if he had been holding back for far too long. And even though his actions were far from gentle, there was something undeniable in the way he kissed you—as if he was proving something, too.

When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathing heavily, your chest rising and falling as you struggled to catch your breath. His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, and the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You wanted my attention," he said, his voice low and dripping with arrogance. "Well, now you have it."

"Get on your knees," he said, his voice firm as he pushed you down. "I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock."

He towers over you, slowly undoing his pants. His cock springs free, already hard and ready. "Come on, baby," he coaxed, his voice laced with desire, "Show me what you've got." He grabbed your hair again, guiding your head towards his cock, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

You can feel your pussy clenching, body begging for his cock. Your tongue darts out, licking the tip of his cock, the taste of his pre-cum making your mouth water.

Your lips part, and you feels your body betray you as you take the head of Suguru’s cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around the tip, savoring the taste.

Suguru let out a guttural moan as your tongue flicked against the tip of his cock, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. His grip on your hair tightened, his fingers threading through your strands as he watched you take him in.

"Fuck, baby, that's it," he praised, his hips bucking slightly, as if trying to push deeper into your mouth. "Keep going, let's see how far you can take me." He could feel the heat of your mouth, the wetness of your tongue, and he knew he wouldn't last long.

He wanted to fuck you, to claim you in every way possible. "Now, I want you to take it all, deepthroat my cock, baby," he commanded, his voice gruff and demanding. He wanted to see how much you could handle, how much you'd submit to his will. "Show me how much you want my cock inside you."

You swallow your saliva, before you slowly took him in deeper, hollowing your cheeks. He groaned, the sound deep and primal as he felt you take him deeper. But it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. He needed more, needed to control this, needed to make you submit to him completely.

"Fuck, baby, that's not gonna cut it," he growled, his grip on your hair tightening even more. He started to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with abandon, his cock sliding in and out, deeper and harder each time.

"Take it, baby," he commanded, his voice harsh and demanding. "Take my cock, all of it. Show me how much you want it." He could feel you gagging, feel your body struggling to take him in, and it only spurred him on more. He wanted to see you choke on his cock, wanted to see you completely at his mercy.

Your eyes are started to get watery, you are out of breath. "Mmf..!" your voice muffled. Your hand tap his thighs, signaling that you really need your oxygen.

The sight of you submitting to him like this only made him harder, his cock twitching in your mouth. He could see the water in your eyes, but he didn't let up.

He wanted to dominate you, to show you who was in control. He pulled your head back, slamming his cock into your mouth, face-fucking you mercilessly. "That's it, take it, you little bitch," he growled, his hips moving in a frenzied rhythm. "I want to see you gag on my cock."

He didn't care about your need for oxygen, only driven by his desires. He could feel your throat muscles clenching around his cock, the sensation making him even more aroused. "Fuck, you're loving this, aren't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair never loosening.

He continued to face-fuck you, his cock sliding in and out of your mouth, the sound of wet slapping filling the room. A cruel smile spread across his face as he pulled out slightly, allowing you to gasp for air. Suguru’s hand land on your left cheek, his slap a stinging pain. But for some reason, you love it.

"H-hah..t-that's enough..please.." you begged, already breathless.

Suguru released you and watched as you tried to catch your breath, the sight of you gagging and struggling turning him on even more. "Alright, baby, you've earned a break," he lied, his smirk returning.

He pulled you up, standing you in front of a table in the corner of the room. "Bend over," he commanded, his voice firm. You hesitated, but he didn't give you the chance to refuse. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and pushing you down onto the table.

"Keep your legs spread and your arms on the table," he ordered, his hand already hovering over your ass. "Now, count, starting from one."

Suguru brought his hand down hard on your ass, making you yelp in surprise. "One," you said, voice shaky. He spanked you again, this time harder, making you cry out. "T-two!"

He continued to spank you, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack each time. "Three, f-four..ah! Five.."

You could feel the sting on your ass, the heat building with each spank as you counted until.. "N-nine..ten," you said, and his hand pausing for a moment. "Now, I want you to spread your legs wider and touch yourself, baby," he commanded, his voice a cruel mix of desire and control.

"W-what?" You hesitated. but he tightened his grip on your hair, pulling it enough to make you whimper. "Do it, slut," he growled, the use of the name making you wetter.

You obeyed, spreading your legs as wide as you could, your fingers finding your wetness. "Good girl," he praised, his hand sliding down your back to cup your ass, squeezing it gently. "Now, play with yourself while I watch."

Leaning against the table, Suguru’s eyes locked on your fingers as they moved to rub yourself through your cotton panties. The sight of you touching yourself, the sound of your whimpers, drives him insane.

He stepped forward, his cock harder than ever, and ripped off your panties. "Enough playing, baby," he growled, his hands gripping your hips.

He positioned himself at your entrance, his cock pressing against you, teasing you. "I'm going to fuck you now, and I'm going to fuck you hard," he warned, his voice laced with promise and threat.

Without waiting for your response, Suguru thrust into you, his cock filling you completely. "H-hngh..!!" you let out a loud moan as he began to move inside you. He pulled your hair back, his grip tight, and started to fuck you with a rough, animalistic fervor.

Suguru slammed into you, his hips moving in a brutal rhythm, your body bouncing on the table. His other hand came around, gripping your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp for air. "Fuck, you feel so good. Too good for a loser," he growled, his thrusts growing harder, more desperate while his hand moves to pinch both of your nipple, making you yelp in surprised.

"Open your mouth," he demand. Suguru, in the heat of the moment, decided to spit into your mouth. He pulled your head back, your lips meeting his in a rough, sloppy kiss. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, mingling with his saliva.

The act only seemed to fuel his lust further. He let go of your throat, his hand sliding down to your ass, gripping it tightly. "You like that, don't you, hm?" he growled, his voice deep and possessive. "You like being treated like this?" Your pussy clenches tightly at his treatment, you feel your mind going numb, dumb, in a haze.

He started to spank you again, his hand connecting with your ass with a loud smack. The sound echoed through the cabin, the sting of the spank making you cry out. "Tell me you like it," he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

"O-oh fuck..yes..I love it-!" you moaned, eyes rolling back. "P-please..I'm gonna cum-!" you moaned, almost a scream.

Suguru leaned down, his lips pressing against your ear. "Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock," he commanded, his voice raw and needy as he rubs your clit with his thumb in a tight circle. He felt your body tense, your walls clenching around him, and that was all it took.

With a loud groan, he let go, his seed filling you as he continued to thrust. He held you close, his grip tight as he rode out the waves of pleasure. "Fuck, baby, take it all in," he whispered, his voice heavy with lust and possession.

Suguru pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your juices and his cum. He let out a low whistle, looking at your fucked up state. He didn't miss a chance to took his phone out, taking a picture of you before he wore his pants back.

“Well,” he said, his tone teasing, almost indifferent. “I’d say that’s more than enough for you to remember me by. Consider it a gift for all that hopeless admiration of yours.” He chuckled softly, the sound cold and dismissive, making your chest tighten.

You sat there, still catching your breath, your body weak from everything that had just happened, but his words stung. You had just shared something so intimate, something that had felt so intense in the moment, but to him… it seemed like it was nothing. Just a way to toy with you.

Suguru turned away, adjusting his shirt like this was just another moment in his day. “Don’t go thinking this means anything more,” he added, his voice casual as he headed toward the door. “This was just… for fun. And now it’s over.”

You swallowed hard, feeling a painful lump form in your throat as you watched him. Part of you wanted to shout at him, to ask why he had done this, why he had kissed you and touched you like that if it meant nothing. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you watched as he reached for the door, pausing for just a second before looking over his shoulder, his gaze sharp.

“Take care, yeah? I’ve got better things to do.” And with that, Suguru stepped out of the classroom, leaving you alone in the dim, quiet space.

For a long moment, you didn’t move. Your mind was spinning, your emotions tangled in a confusing mess of anger, hurt, and… something else. You knew you should hate him for how he treated you, for the way he had used your feelings against you, but as you sat there, your body still tingling from his touch, a realization crept in.

Despite everything, despite his cruelty and the way he had just dismissed you—you couldn’t stop yourself from falling for him all over again. The way he looked at you, the way his touch had made you feel alive, like you were the only person in the world for just that moment… it had reignited something in you.

You pressed your hand to your chest, feeling your heart pound. How could someone who hurt you so deeply also make you feel so intensely?

Even after everything, you couldn’t deny it. You were still hopelessly in love with Suguru Geto.

The soft hum of conversation and the clatter of dishes filled the cozy little restaurant as you sat with your friends. It was one of those rare moments when the four of you managed to gather around a table without someone running late or bailing at the last minute. The smell of freshly cooked ramen filled the air, and you were halfway through a steaming bowl when Nobara spoke up, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"You guys know about that old haunted house, right?" Nobara's voice cut through the conversation like a knife. She leaned forward, elbows on the table, her usual boldness giving way to an almost mischievous grin. "We should totally go check it out tonight."

You paused mid-bite, glancing between Yuji and Megumi, unsure if she'd just suggested what you thought she had. Yuji, ever the thrill-seeker, looked intrigued already. He set down his chopsticks and shot Nobara a grin. "Ghost hunting, huh? I'm in! It sounds like fun."

Megumi, however, wasn’t sold. He raised an eyebrow, the usual calm expression on his face hardening slightly. "That place? You mean the one everyone says is cursed?" He sighed, clearly conflicted. "I don’t know, Nobara. People have gone in and… well, weird things happen."

Nobara waved her hand dismissively. "C'mon, Megumi. Weird things always happen when you look for them. It's just an old house. What’s the worst that could happen?"

You could see the hesitation in Megumi's eyes as he looked at you, like he was silently asking if you were going to back him up on this. But then Yuji nudged him with his elbow. "Don’t be such a buzzkill. It's just one night, and it'll be over before you know it."

Megumi groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Fine, but if something actually happens, don't say I didn't warn you."

As they turned to you, all eyes locked onto yours, you could feel the weight of the decision pressing in. You weren’t exactly eager to spend your night in a house famous for scaring the living daylights out of anyone who dared enter. But with your friends clearly set on going, it was hard to see a way out of it.

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Whether you like it or not, you'd still need to join anyway. The house stood before you like a shadow of its former self, tall and looming, with broken windows and peeling paint. The air around it seemed unnaturally still, as if the night itself held its breath. The old iron gate creaked in the wind, and the overgrown lawn looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades. A cold chill ran down your spine as you stared at the dark structure.

"Well... here we are," Yuji said, trying to sound casual but failing to hide the slight tremor in his voice.

Nobara grinned, her excitement unshaken. "Perfect. Look at this place! It's just like one of those haunted houses from the movies. We’re definitely getting some good stories out of this."

Megumi sighed, his eyes narrowing at the house as though sizing up an enemy. "This is a terrible idea."

"You already agreed, remember?" Nobara teased, nudging him. "Don’t chicken out now."

You stayed quiet, your gaze locked on the front door that looked like it hadn’t been opened in years. The longer you stood there, the more the oppressive atmosphere of the place seemed to weigh on you. It was as if the house was watching, waiting.

"Alright, let’s do this," Yuji said, breaking the silence as he pushed open the rusty gate, the screeching sound making you wince. He led the way with a flashlight in hand, illuminating the narrow path that led to the entrance.

As the group walked closer to the house, every step seemed heavier than the last. Nobara was practically bouncing with excitement, while Megumi lagged behind, his eyes scanning every shadow, every movement.

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you approached the front door. There was no turning back now.

The air inside the house was thick with dust and the faint scent of mildew. Each step you took echoed through the empty hallways, but after a while, the fear you felt outside began to fade. The house was silent—too silent—but as time passed, nothing unusual happened.

“This place isn’t so bad,” Yuji said with a forced laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “All those stories must’ve been made up.”

“Right?” Nobara added, glancing around at the cracked walls and sagging ceiling. “A haunted house, my foot. I bet people just freak themselves out.”

Even Megumi, who had been tense the whole time, seemed to relax a little. “Let’s just hurry up and leave. We’ve seen enough.”

You nodded, relieved that the visit might end without anything strange happening. But just as you were about to agree and suggest heading back, the sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway behind you—footsteps that didn’t belong to any of you.

You froze, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. Yuji, who had been walking a little ahead, turned to face the hallway behind him. “Did… Did you guys hear that?”

Before anyone could answer, the unmistakable sound of footsteps grew louder. Then, at the far end of the hallway, a pair of glowing blue eyes appeared, floating in the darkness. The light from the eyes was dim at first, but as they grew brighter, the air around you felt colder, heavier.

Nobara’s bravado cracked, her voice trembling as she whispered, “What the hell is that?”

Without warning, Yuji let out a panicked yelp and bolted down the hallway. “Nope! I’m out!” His footsteps pounded against the wooden floor as he sprinted ahead.

“Yuji, wait!” Nobara called after him, but the fear in her voice betrayed her own nerves. She and Megumi quickly ran after him, disappearing around a corner.

You stood frozen for a moment, the glowing eyes still fixed on you from the other end of the hall. A cold sweat ran down your back, and you turned to chase after them. But before you could make it to the hallway's end, the door to the room you were in slammed shut with a deafening bang.

You grabbed the handle, twisting it frantically, but it wouldn’t budge. “Guys?” you called out, your voice breaking as you pounded on the door. “Guys, the door’s stuck!”

But all you heard in return was the faint echo of your voice, swallowed by the heavy silence. The glowing eyes vanished, leaving you alone in the dark room, the air around you suddenly colder than before.

Your heart raced as you tugged at the door, desperate to get it open. Panic surged through you, but before you could call out for your friends again, you felt something else—something cold. Icy fingers wrapped around your waist from behind, pulling you away from the door.

You gasped, struggling for breath, your heart hammering in your chest. Every muscle in your body tensed, but when you turned around, the sight before you made your breath hitch in an entirely different way.

Standing before you was a man—a ghost, no doubt about it. His skin was impossibly pale, almost glowing under the faint light of the room. His eyes, an eerie yet mesmerizing shade of blue, twinkled with mischief. A sly smile curled on his lips, and though the chill from his touch still lingered on your skin, there was something undeniably handsome about him.

"Whoa there," he said, his voice smooth and playful. "Where do you think you're going, running off like that?"

You blinked, your mind struggling to process what was happening. His arms stayed casually wrapped around your waist, holding you close in a way that felt far too intimate for a ghost.

“Who… who are you?” you stammered, trying to push back, but your movements were weak under his steady gaze.

He tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. “Name’s Gojo Satoru,” he introduced, his voice laced with confidence. “And you are… definitely not supposed to be here.”

You swallowed hard, trying to pull your thoughts together, but he made it impossible to focus. “W-what do you mean?”

Satoru’s grin widened as he leaned in a little closer, his cold breath brushing against your neck. “I mean, a place like this isn’t meant for someone as cute as you. So what brings you to my humble, haunted abode?”

The way he looked at you—how his gaze roamed over you like he was savoring every second—made you painfully aware of just how touchy he was. Even though his skin was cold, his hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, fingers lingering as though he were still alive and not some phantom.

Your face heated, though you weren’t sure if it was fear or something else. “We—my friends and I—we just came to check out the place.”

Satoru chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Curiosity’s dangerous, you know. Especially around here.” His voice dropped into a teasing tone as his other hand lightly brushed your hair back from your face. “But then again, I can’t say I mind having a little company.”

You were flustered, torn between the chilling realization that you were talking to a ghost and how undeniably charming, even flirty, he was. Every word he said dripped with playful teasing, and his constant touch only made your pulse race faster.

“Are you always this... forward?” you managed to ask, trying to regain some composure.

Satoru smirked, not bothering to hide his amusement. “When I see something I like? Absolutely. Besides…” His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers down your spine. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had anyone to talk to. Might as well enjoy the moment, don’t you think?”

His playful, flirtatious demeanor wasn’t helping your already frazzled nerves, but despite yourself, you couldn’t deny the strange pull he had over you. He was a ghost—he shouldn’t feel so real, so present. And yet, here he was, teasing you, touching you like you weren’t separated by life and death.

Satoru's arms stayed firmly wrapped around you, his presence overwhelming in the stillness of the room. His smirk widened as he studied your flustered expression, clearly enjoying your reaction. He leaned in a little closer, his breath cool against your skin.

“You know," he drawled, his voice dripping with playful mischief, "it's pretty naughty of you to be in here alone... with a male ghost, no less."

You blinked, his words sinking in. Alone? Your gaze quickly flickered around the room, only now realizing where you were standing. The creaky old bed in the corner, the tattered curtains, and the musty scent—it wasn’t just any room. It was the bedroom.

Your face burned with embarrassment, and you tried to pull away, but Satoru held you firmly in place, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

"Something wrong?" he teased, eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched your discomfort. "I thought you’d be more adventurous, sneaking around a haunted house at night. Or were you hoping for a different kind of thrill?"

You opened your mouth to protest, but his words caught you off guard. Before you could speak, Satoru tilted his head slightly, his voice softening into a low, seductive whisper. “Tell me, have you ever thought about... experiencing something new?”

You hesitated, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you mean?”

The grin on his face deepened, and without answering, Satoru leaned in closer. His hand moved from your back to cup your cheek gently, his icy fingers sending a shiver down your spine. His face hovered just inches from yours, and for a moment, everything seemed to stop. The air felt thick, charged with an intensity you hadn’t expected.

“What I mean,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly, “is something like this.”

Before you could react, he closed the distance, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was surprisingly soft, but undeniably electrifying. The coldness of his touch contrasted with the warmth that suddenly bloomed in your chest, and for a second, the world outside that room ceased to exist.

Satoru’s kiss was slow, teasing, as though savoring the moment. He was a ghost, an ethereal being, and yet somehow, he felt so real, his presence so tangible that it made your head spin. You couldn’t tell if it was the fear, the surprise, or something else entirely, but you felt like you were sinking deeper into the strange, thrilling connection that held you both together.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes gleamed with playful mischief. “So… how’s that for something new?”

Before you could even gather your thoughts or catch your breath, Satoru leaned in again, this time with far less patience. His lips crashed against yours in a rougher, more urgent kiss, one that left no room for hesitation. Your breath hitched as his hands tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against him, the chill of his touch seeping through your clothes.

The softness from before was gone, replaced by an intensity that sent shockwaves through your body. His kiss was deeper, more demanding, like he was claiming you in that moment, and despite every rational thought screaming at you to push him away, your body betrayed you, rooted in place by the magnetic pull he had over you.

The sensation of his lips, cold yet somehow fiery with passion, made your head spin, your mind blanking out everything except for him. His fingers trailed up your back, sending a rush of goosebumps across your skin as his mouth moved against yours, not giving you a second to process what was happening.

Satoru broke the kiss for a split second, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours as he whispered, “You taste even better than I imagined.” His voice was low, husky, dripping with a teasing tone that made your heart pound even harder.

Before you could respond, before you could even catch your breath, he was on you again, his kiss rougher still, like he couldn’t get enough of you. His hands roamed your body, cold and possessive, as though he was determined to make sure you wouldn’t forget this—wouldn’t forget him.

And with the way your body reacted, you weren’t sure you ever could.

Without warning, Satoru's hands tightened around you, and with a swift, effortless motion, he pushed you backward. You stumbled, barely managing to gasp before your back hit the mattress, sinking into the creaky old bed. The springs groaned beneath your weight, and you stared up at him, your heart racing.

Satoru loomed over you, his pale face framed by the dim light filtering through the cracked window. His eyes gleamed with a mixture of mischief and something darker, more primal. His grin widened, satisfied with how easily he had you at his mercy.

Satoru grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up, revealing your lacy bra. He took a moment to admire the sight, before straddling your waist, his hands gripping both of your wrist together with his hand.

"You're mine now," Satoru growled, his voice thick with lust. "I'll take what I want from you." He pressed a kiss to your neck, nipping at your skin, before trailing his lips down to your collarbone, making your breath hitched and let out a small whimper. "And tonight, I want to fill you up with every drop I have."

Satoru's hands roamed your body, unfastening the clasp of your bra, letting it fall to the side. He leaned in, taking one nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it, before switching to the other one. His hips rocked against you, grinding against you through your shorts. You feel your panties sticking to your pussy because of how wet you are.

"Soon, my sweet," he murmured, his voice low and seductive. "Soon you'll be begging for more." You couldn’t help but rock your hips back to his harden cock, needing to release the desire pooling between your thighs.

Satoru chuckled darkly, feeling your body respond to him. "You're such a tease," he said, his voice laced with desire. He pressed his body further down on yours. "But I like it," he admitted, his mouth finding yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

Breaking away, Satoru trailed his lips down your body, his hands exploring your curves, making your body shivered slightly with his cold lips. For some reason, it makes your desire for him heightened. He pull your shorts down before hooking his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs, tossing them aside. He could see the wetness, smell the scent of arousal, and it drove him wild.

"You're so ready for me," he said, his voice low and husky. He spread your legs wider, positioning himself between them. "But first," he said, his eyes locked on your wet pussy, "I need a taste."

"W-wa- ngh..!" before you could protest, he leaned in, his tongue flicking out to lick your folds, tasting the sweetness. Satoru groaned, his cock throbbing at the sweet taste of you. He began to lick and suck, his tongue exploring every inch of you, driving your mind to a haze, your back arching slightly at the feeling of the wet muscle exploring your cunt. Your hand instantly went down to tugged on his hair, his tongue is cold too, and it provides you a different sensation.

Satoru grinned, feeling your hand in his hair. "You like that, don't you?" He asked, his voice muffled by your body. He continued to pleasure you, his tongue teasing your clit, flicking it before he sucked it into his mouth. He could feel your body tremble beneath him, the sounds of your moans and whimpers fueling his lust.

"S-satoru..I-I can't..!" you moaned, your clit too sensitive at every single flick of his tongue.

"It's okay, baby. Cum for me," he growled, his grip on your hips tightening. "Let me taste it." He continued to work your body, his fingers joining in, slipping inside your wetness. He knew the perfect rhythm to push you over the edge, and he was determined to succeed.

Satoru's own arousal was nearly unbearable, but he wouldn't let himself climax until you did. He wanted to feel your body quiver against his mouth, your release coating his tongue.

You feel the coil in your belly tighten and he knew you were close by the way your walls tighten around his fingers. You bucked your hips against his mouth, seeking for more pleasure. "F-fuck..faster please..!" you begged.

He smirked as he obliged, speeding up his ministrations, sucking harder on your clit, his fingers pumping inside your pussy. "You want it faster, huh?" He teased, his voice thick with lust. "You'll get it."

He could feel the tension building, your body trembling as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge. He didn't want to stop, didn't want to miss the moment you came undone. "That's it, darling," he encouraged, his voice low and encouraging. "Let it go, let me feel it."

Satoru increased the pressure, his tongue flicking over your clit, his fingers thrusting in and out, hitting your sweet spot. "N-ngh! Satoru..I-I'm gonna...g-gonna cum-!"

It was only a matter of moments before he felt your body shudder, walls clenching around his fingers as you came. He lapped up your juices, savoring the taste, before pulling away.

"Good girl," he praised, smirking as he wiped his mouth. "Now it's my turn." He pull down his pant enough to reveal his cock, long and girthy as he positioned himself at your entrance, throbbing with need.

Satoru pushed his cock into you slowly, groaning as his length fills you up and how tight your pussy is. You bit your lower lip, holding in your moans. "Y-you're so big Satoru.." you said softly.

Satoru smirked, his eyes never leaving yours. "You'll get used to it," he promised, before he began to move. Slow, deep thrusts, letting you get accustomed to him. He could feel your body adjusting, tightening around him, and it made him even more aroused.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, searing kiss, his hips rolling, grinding against you, your moans muffled with the kiss. "God, you feel so good," he whispered against your mouth. His hand reached up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently, before moving down to stroke your clit. Your body quiver, your nub still sensitive.

"Let me hear you, sweet," he growled, his voice low and commanding. "Let me hear how much you love this." He began to thrust harder, faster, his cock sliding in and out of her, the sound of bodies slapping together filling the room.

"H-hah! F-feel so good..!" you moaned, eyes rolling back to the back of your skull at each of his thrust against your G-spot. Satoru's grip on your breast tightened, his other hand holding your hip, keeping you pinned. "Cum for me, my sweet," he demanded, his voice thick with lust. "Cum while I'm inside you."

Satoru groaned, his own pleasure building. He was close, so very close. "That's it," he praised, his thrusts becoming more erratic, his body losing control. "You're so tight, you're going to make me lose it."

His thrusts became more desperate, more frantic, his grip on your body tightening. He could feel the tip of his cock swelling, the need to release building. "Come for me," he growled, the last of his restraint slipping

"C-cumming!" you screamed. Satoru could feel your body tensing again, and it was enough to push him over the edge. With a deep growl, Satoru let go, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his seed. "Fuck," he swore, his body trembling as the wave of pleasure crashed over him.

He collapsed onto your body, his breathing heavy, his cock still buried deep inside you. "God, that was good," he murmured, his voice hoarse. He stayed there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being connected to you, before pulling out and rolling off you.

"That was...something.." you spoke, still trying to process what had happened. Satoru chuckles softly, his finger caressing your cheeks with a smile. "Sleep my darling, I'll clean you up."

For some reason, his voice makes you sleepy, like he's lulling you to sleep. So you decided to trust him and closed your eyes. It doesn't take too long until you finally fell asleep by his side. By the side of a ghost.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆°°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡

You blinked against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, slowly becoming aware of your surroundings. The warmth of the blankets cocooned you, and for a moment, you felt safe and content. But as your eyes adjusted, the reality of where you were began to seep back in.

You turned your head to the side and froze. Yuji and Megumi were sitting on the edge of the bed, concern etched across their faces. Nobara stood nearby, her arms crossed, looking equally worried.

“Thank goodness you’re awake!” Yuji exclaimed, relief flooding his voice. “We were so worried!”

“What happened?” you croaked, the memories of the night flooding back in a chaotic rush. The haunted house, Satoru...

“We found you unconscious in that bedroom,” Megumi explained, his expression a mix of guilt and concern. “We thought you’d just gotten scared or something, but you wouldn’t wake up.”

Nobara stepped forward, her brows furrowing in apology. “I’m so sorry for leaving you alone! We should have stayed with you.”

You shook your head, still trying to piece together what had happened. “I was fine. I… I was just resting.”

“Resting?” Yuji raised an eyebrow, his tone skeptical. “You were out cold! What really happened?”

You hesitated, the memories of how you just had sex with the ghost in the house still vivid in your mind. “It’s... complicated,” you finally said, your heart racing at the thought of how to explain.

Megumi's gaze softened. “We just want to make sure you’re okay. We thought maybe something... strange happened to you in that house.”

You glanced at them, their concern genuine, and felt a wave of gratitude mixed with confusion. “I’m fine now,” you assured them, though the lingering feelings from the night before were hard to shake. “Really. Just a little... overwhelmed.”

Yuji grinned, though his relief was clear. “Well, let’s get you something to eat. You need to regain your strength after scaring us like that!”

As they helped you sit up, the warmth of their friendship surrounded you, but the memories of what had happened in that haunted house lingered at the back of your mind, leaving you wondering about the strange encounter that felt so surreal. You hope..that it's actually a real encounter.