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haykawas · 5 months

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✩•̩̩͙*˚ UNREQUITED ROUTE

this is one of the possible endings to a story! lost yourself? begin here! You've chosen to proceed with our favorite long haired beauty! You love to hurt yourself, don't you? Enjoy <3 – wc : 4.4k

It’s Suguru.

You don’t acknowledge his presence, and instead just try to quicken your pace so you can get home faster. It’s a good thing you live so close to his house, because it’s freezing and you’re only wearing a shirt.

You’re fumbling with the keys of your apartment, your hands trembling when you hear him clearing his throat a few steps down. You can clearly imagine the expression that would be etched on his face if you were to turn around and take a look at him.

Annoyance, impatience, confusion even. And he would be right to feel that way.

The click of the lock echoes in the dead of night, and you immediately try to shut the door to block out everything.

But Suguru’s foot shoots out, wedging between the door and the frame and preventing it from closing completely.

“Are you going to hear me out, now? Or do I need to blow down your door?” He asks with a slight frown.

“What more is there to say? It looked pretty clear to me.”

“So running out was the best option to you? At least hear him out.”

“Why are you always so optimistic? He doesn’t like me, Sugu’, end of story! Can you leave me now so I can go cry in my bed, or is it too much to ask?” You exclaim, and the look in his eyes tells you he won’t be letting this go anytime soon.

“Alright, fine, I give up. Do whatever you want.” You let out a frustrated groan, releasing the door so he can get inside. He closes the door behind him and follows you to your room, but you act as if he isn’t there.

“I think you should get back.”

You press your lips in a thin line, ignoring him even as he keeps following you like your shadow.

Irritated, you finally turn back to face him, a mix of frustration and anguish on your face. “You know what I think? That he would be there if he cared like you said, but is he?” You ask, voice laced with the weight of disappointment and hurt. “Why are you here when he’s not, Suguru?”

You feel like you know the answer before you’ve even asked the question. And he knows you do too. Yet you refuse to open your eyes and see what’s been in front of you the whole time.

“Because I care about you!” He blurts out. “I care, alright? Even if you have a hard time believing it.” His words hang in the air, and you can’t ignore the way your heart skips a bit at his admission.

“I know you do.” You reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Because you do know. When Suguru cares, he cares deeply. You always felt like he constantly tried to protect you from whatever came your way, and the realization makes your chest tighten.

“Now that’s the thing, I don’t really think you do.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “God, sometimes I just…” He trails off, the hesitance shining in his eyes reflecting the vulnerability of what he’s trying to tell you.

“I just wish you looked at me the same way you look at him.” He breathes out.

And you don’t know if it’s the way he looks at you that prompts this reaction out of you, or something else entirely, but you can suddenly feel the need to get closer, to feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the scent of his perfume.

You’re torn, you don’t know what to say to him nor do you really know what he’s trying to tell you. – Yet you do.

And as his stray locks brush against your shoulder, making your skin tickle, a strange sense of intimacy unfurls between you.

You both know it’s wrong. So why are you leaning forward, wondering what his lips would taste like against yours?

Yet Suguru moves away before it can happen, and he takes a few steps back. You can’t help but feel disappointed.

“We can’t do this.” He says, just like you knew he would. He’s right, and you know that. Yet you want payback, you want to hurt Satoru as much as he’s hurt you all this time. It’s stupid, and petty. You don’t care.

You scoff. “Oh, we can’t now?”

“I can’t do this to Satoru.” To you.

Your laugh is bitter, “Ah, Satoru. Well, considering what just happened, I think he’ll be fine.”

He whispers your name, pleading, almost begging, and your heart clenches at the sound. “You’re upset, it wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t feel right.” He adds, but he’s lying through his teeth, — Anything would always feel right if it was with you.

You turn your head toward Suguru, locking eyes with him, “You’re really gonna make me say it?”

You lick your lips, and Suguru’s eyes can’t help but flicker up and down at the motion, before swiftly looking away, almost in shame. “Make you say what?”

“That I want you, Suguru.” You plead, “I need you.” His gaze flicks back to yours, and you can feel his hesitance. It’s thick like butter, but so is the tension between you. So you step forward, slowly as to not startle him, because you’re scared he’ll disappear if you aren’t careful enough. You add, your voice a little raw, “Please.”

It’s the last straw.

Something breaks inside of him.

Because he has you there before him, telling him you crave him, practically begging for him to do something about it. And Suguru tries, he desperately does. He tries so hard to hold back, because you’re in love with his best friend, and he’s practically sure Satoru might also have a thing for you — although he’s been pretty shitty at showing it.

But you’re there. You’re real, and you’re so, so close. You’re looking up at him with lidded eyes, and you’re so beautiful he feels himself blush.

He knows that if he starts this, and does as much as lift a finger, he won’t be able to stop. And you know that, because eyes don’t lie. You see the little restraint he had falter and crumble, like a card castle in the wind.

The way he looks at you is unhinged, almost primal, and it’s making you dizzy. It’s like he’s peering inside of you, probing at every corner of your soul and seeing the deepest parts of you, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

He’s the Apex predator, and you’re prey.

It’s dangerous. You can’t get enough of it.

“Yeah?” He says, and the way his voice drops down an octave makes your heart quake. “You want me?”

Yeah. Your lips part to answer his plea, but your breath catches in your throat when you see him walk up the rest of the distance to you, his deft fingers rising to his ponytail to yank out his hair tie, freeing his long hair. It cascades down his back, and you feel it tickle the side of your neck when his mouth finally meets yours. He swallows the words you want to say, sucks them out of you with the swipe of his tongue and the bite of his teeth. You gasp in surprise, your fingers trembling as they instantly find him, and you harshly tug on his shirt to pull him closer.

And oh, how his lips are sweet. They taste like honey and sugar, so exquisite you feel yourself drown in the depths of him. His distinctive scent of rose and sandalwood invades your senses and you drink him in like a parched traveler.

If someone had told you this would happen, that you would be here, kissing Suguru Geto of all people, you would have just laughed in their faces. He’s always been your best friend, one unlike Satoru was to you. While Suguru was more like earth — calm and grounding, warmhearted and dependable, Satoru was like ice — impulsive and passionate, carefree and unpredictable. While Satoru was like an adventure, Suguru felt more like home.

You’ve always seen him as nothing more than one of your best friends, your brother from another mother, but now?

Now he’s undoubtedly there, holding you, kissing your lips with so much hunger you feel like you might fall apart under him.

“Make me forget, please.” That’s all you can say when you finally part, out of breath, your chest heaving heavily.

It’s all in the eyes. It’s always been this way with Suguru, and you’ve learned to read him like an open book with time. It’s there, hiding behind his chocolate hues, this bundle of emotions he’s been suppressing for so long that is now threatening to crack, break, and spill out all over the place without restraint.

And it is raw.

He wants to eat you alive. And if this is the way he simply looks at you, you can’t help wondering what he’s even thinking about you.

His gaze is like a drug. It is so needy, so desperate you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. It is undeniably making you shy despite your eagerness, but it feels so good.

You feel seen.

Even though he might seem in control to the foreign eye, that’s not quite the case. Suguru’s eager and greedy, he’s kissing you like a starving man, but his body cannot lie. Not to you.

Never to you.

It shows in the way he complies and obeys your every whim like it’s easier to do so than it is breathing. In the way he shivers when you do so much as rap your nails against his back, and kiss your way down to his neck.

You are in charge, and he lets you be. He likes it that way.

He lets himself fall on the mattress, pulling you down with him and gripping your thighs as you settle down on his lap. His breath hitches in his throat and he has to hold you in place before your squirming causes an unwanted accident.

The sounds he makes prompt a smile out of you, and you take a moment to detail him. He’s sprawled on the bed, his long black hair spread on the sheets and framing his face so beautifully.

His plump lips are slightly parted, and his naked chest slowly rises and falls to the rhythm of his breathing. And under the moonlight, you swear he looks like an angel.

But you don’t need an angel now. You need your best friend to rise, grab your neck and ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶ – fuck you senseless. So you go for it. You lean down and reach out to grip his collar, and he has to prop himself up on one elbow to keep up with you.

“Will you, Suguru?” You bat your eyelashes at him, and he swoons, “Make me forget?”

His face is a few inches away from yours, his hair disheveled as he looks up at you through his eyelashes — he is so close they tickle you when he blinks.

“Anything.” He whispers tenderly, as if breaking character for a moment, “Anything for you.”

And he means it. Although you can’t possibly know that, Suguru has always been yours, and he’ll always be as long as you’ll have him. But you’ve always been Satoru’s.

He’s long accepted that fact.

Your hand moves to rest against his cheek, while the other desperately fists the fabric of his shirt to bring him even closer. He’s still looking up at you, your position giving you the advantage, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Kiss me again — like you mean it.” He implores and you comply. You do not have it in you to deny him when he looks so desperate for you. He immediately angles his head so you can kiss him better, and the scrape of your teeth against his bottom lip prompts a groan out of him.

The way you make him feel drives him insane, and he’s utterly ashamed of the amount of power you hold over him without even being aware of it. Suguru feels like a virgin all over again, with the way the simple brush of your fingers makes his heart jump, and his body shiver. He’s daydreamed about this moment for so long to the point it almost feels natural to be with you like this, and he’s afraid it might be his mind playing tricks on him. It’s selfish, but it feels so good. It’s like scratching an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He feels alive. He’s never experienced anything like it, and it scares him.

But you know nothing of his inner turmoil, and while he’s focused on the way his heart soars, you’re more focused on the sensations and the pleasure it’s bringing you. On the way you can feel your mind slowly ease as he keeps worshipping your body.

You don’t care that you’re using each other. You want him, and he wants you. It doesn’t matter that you still have Satoru on your mind when it’s his friend, your other best friend, who is under you. It doesn’t matter to Suguru either, because it’s him with you, him that is making you gasp and squirm under his touch.

It is enough for him – he has never thought he would get there with you in the first place.

Your hands are busy as you fumble with the last buttons of his shirt, having just discarded yours on the floor, and Suguru can see how eager you are.

“Fuck,” He swears, but his voice remains soft as he gazes at you, detailing your almost naked form. His eyes find yours again, and they’re sparkling with an emotion you don’t seem to recognize. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

He smiles at the way you turn your head, breaking eye contact with an impish smile. You’re flustered.

How cute.

And this moment is perfect. It’s perfect and yet, he has to ask. Before you go further and completely free him from his pants, your hands making quick work of his belt, he has to know that you’re as sure about this as he is.

He doesn’t think he could bear seeing the regret on your face come morning. The disappointment in your eyes when you would wake up, only to find him and not his friend in your bed.

It would destroy him. It would destroy you, and everything in between.

So as difficult as it is, he halts you with a finger on your lips when you lean in for another kiss.

He asks, “Are you sure you want this?”

It is innocent and full of good intentions – and you know it is in the way he strokes your cheek with care, his eyes giving you his undivided attention.

Yet you’re stupid and frustrated, and your heart aches so badly you just need someone to make it stop. So you can’t help but scoff, and say, “It’s like you want me to crawl back to him.”

The look he gives you makes you want to crawl into a hole, and you immediately want to take it back.

Because if there is one thing Suguru doesn’t want, it is seeing you desperatly running after his best friend the day after you’ve shared all of this. After he got to taste your lips and map out the curves of your body.

Gone are the caring gaze and the gentle touch – his eyes darken considerably, the hand that has been caressing the skin of your thigh ever so softly tightens around it, and it’s sure to leave imprints by the time you two are done. You can tell by the way the muscles of his jaw clench that he is pissed. Your heart thuds in your ears.

You are not used to this version of your best friend.

You can’t say you dislike it.

You wince at the way he says your name. Slowly, voice soft as it always is. Yet it’s different this time. It’s fueled with new emotions – frustration, annoyance, jealousy.

And oh, it looks so good on him, you can’t help but smirk.

That is your second mistake.

“Do you think it’s a game?”

Your smile falters, and you can’t seem to hold eye contact. Your cheeks flame, body tensing with apprehension. You lick your lips, wanting to answer honestly, but your brain feels too full of static for any sense to come out of you.

What isn’t a game? You think, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your brain gives out and abandons you, like it sensed a predator too strong for him to defeat.

You feel chills run down your spine. A mad Suguru is an uncharted territory, that is undeniable, as he’s always been the reasonable one of your little trio of friends.

Suguru grabs your jaw so he can look you in the eyes, and growls, “Look at me.” There’s something like a warning in his tone, and you hate the fact that you absolutely love it.

He just stares at you, and you want to squirm. Your cheeks are hot, and he can definitely feel your excitement. It’s seeping through your underwear, and it’s obvious you feel self-conscious about it in the way you try to squeeze your thighs together, worried he might uncover your secret.

You seem to forget he knows you by heart.

“You want to forget? I’ll make you forget everything.” He pulls you further into his lap, and the hand cradling your thigh slightly tightens, while the other one reaches into your hair.

“I’ll make you forget his name.” He kisses you, hard and deep as the hand on your thigh rises ever so slightly to rub circles on the sensitive flesh.

“The color of his eyes.” He nips at your skin, tentatively licking and sucking on your neck, just below your jaw, and you can’t help but whimper. Your head instinctively lulls to the side to grant him access— And you can’t think, you don’t need to when he’s willing to do it for you. He knows what you’re thinking, what you want. What you like.

After all, you’re best friends. And best friends know best.

He would take all of your pain away, if you would just trust him.

“The sound of his voice.”

The pressure of his hand leaves imprints, all of which make their presence known the minute he pulls back. You whine at the loss, wanting to grab his hand and drag it back, but he’s got something else in mind.

Your voice is lost as he steals your breath, his words still ringing through your mind as he slowly moves down, kissing your throat, your collarbones, your chest.

You arch your back. It feels good, but this isn’t enough. Greed possesses you, clouds your mind entirely and makes you want everything all at once. His movements are slow but deliberate, and you quickly realize what he’s doing. You want more, you want him everywhere, and he’s making you wait for it.

He is teasing you. He is torturing you for having the audacity of bringing up the man you’re in love with in a moment so intimate, so pure. For making him ache for you when he knows your heart will never beat for him the same way it does for Satoru.

You can’t blame him. It doesn’t mean you can’t retaliate, though. In a surge of confidence, your eyes snap open, and you fist his hair with one hand to pull his mouth back to yours, hard. You decide he won’t get to mess with you, play you like an instrument, as you start grinding on him. And it’s hard, it’s throbbing beneath you, unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

Suguru doesn’t let your game last, though. He grabs you by the waist, lifting you to throw you on the mattress. Your back arches as you fall on the sheets, and he swiftly gets ahold of your wrists to pin them above your head. You gasp as he climbs over you, and your eyes meet his only to find him grinning at you.

He’s enjoying this way too much, it seems. You want to wipe that smirk off his face. – But you cannot deny his smile warms your heart.

His hand runs over your ribs, your thighs, until it stops at your lower belly. It is clear he is taking his sweet time, and although he doesn’t say a word, his silence speaks volumes. His eyes speak to you, telling you to beg. Ordering you to.

You do. You give in, pleading for him to touch you, to give you a taste of him like nothing else he’s ever gifted you with.

Satoru’s always said that Suguru’s love language was physical touch, and you’ve never believed that. That’s when you change your mind.

In one swift motion, his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, and he enters you with one, then two broad fingers. You are impossibly drenched. So much that they slip easily, so quickly you can’t help but let out a strangled cry at the sensation.

You whimper against his shoulder, and you wish you could just reach out and grab onto him. Instead, you strain against his grip, hips desperately bucking against his hand.

Everything becomes about Suguru. About his smell, his touch, his voice.

His voice is but a murmur, it is saccharine when he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, “Did you forget already? The way your heart beats faster when he’s in the room?” He rhythms his questions with quick thrusts, curling his digits so that they hit your sensitive spot. Your arousal pools over his palm, and the sound of your squelching makes him even harder.

“I’ll ruin you until he’s nothing more than a fleeting memory.” He growls, and the sound has you mewling and clenching your thighs.

That’s when you feel it rise inside of you. It rises and spills out, and suddenly he’s all you can think about.

You’re drowning in your essence, coloring the sheets a shade darker and it is all because of him. He releases your arms and lifts you easily, pulling you on his lap once again.

Finally.

Your legs slide up, clinging to his waist as he shrugs down the last piece of clothing that still separates the two of you. It springs out, free, hard, and pulsing, and your mouth waters at the sight.

It is burning hot, pink, and throbbing and you’ve never noticed how beautiful your best friend was until now.

You bite your lower lip, eyes wandering over his face. You nod into his chest when he silently asks you if it’s okay, and of course he does. He’s always been so gentle.

Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, fisting his hair when he finally lines up with your entrance and fills you full of him, and your teeth bite his shoulder at the intrusion. It is sure to leave a mark, – he wants it to.

He’s burning his way inside of you, marking you up from the inside, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this full. He pulls you taunt against him, hauling you up by your thighs and thrusting hard and slow like he’s disciplining you. He holds eye contact, of course he does, and although his movements may be harsh, his eyes… His eyes are so gentle, so full of….

No.

You mentally laugh at yourself. You’re dreaming, he could never…

You cry out a moan when he hits the spot, and processes to abuse it repeatedly. He takes you like you’ve never been before, it feels so… Different. The fact it is Suguru you’re sleeping with makes all the difference. Everyone knows how close the two of you are, how complementary, and even Satoru keeps saying how you two are so much alike. You used to think he was exaggerating.

You’re not so sure he was, with the way Suguru seems to know what you need before you even formulate the thought.

Yet he’s always known. He knows what you like and dislike, what you want and don’t want.

He knows which expressions you make when you’re happy, sad. When you’re excited.

And now, he even knows what you look like when you’re close. Your lips are parted, your eyes a little glassy, and with the way you clench around him he has to do mental sports to not burst inside you.

You’re driving him insane.

And while you’re bouncing on him, his hand starts rubbing at your clit, the combination turning you into a blabbering mess. It’s all too much. Your foreheads are pressed together, your hand still buried into Suguru’s hair and you close your eyes when your whimpers turn into full-blown wails. He pulls you into a deep kiss and swallows your moans as you burst.

He feels it coming too, and you see it. You nod at him, giving him your okay to come within you, to paint you with the white of his release and the red of his bleeding heart.

Yet he objects and pulls out before it happens. You’re confused, he sees that, – but you’re still in a daze.

He won’t allow his feelings to take this away from you. Maybe someday, in another universe, he would allow himself to finish with you, to paint you with his colors like you did with yours.

Maybe on the day you’ll finally be his and his only, on the day he won’t have to be ashamed of feeling so strongly toward his best friend. This isn’t the day.

And when you go back to your senses, you can only see him looking at you with a smirk. It seems forced, a little sad even. But maybe it’s just your daze that is making you see things that aren’t there.

And just like that, he asks, “So, what color?”

“Hm?”

“What color are Satoru’s eyes, sweetheart?”

“I…I…” You try to pull yourself back to reality, but you cannot do it. You can’t seem to remember the color of your best friend’s eyes.

Suguru grins, and his voice sends a tingle down your spine when he says, “Good girl.”

Satoru Gojo 1 - Suguru Geto 1. Now, they are even.