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cc1306 · 19 days ago

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The Taming of the Shrew

Warnings: 18+ content, smut,. Reader discretion is advised. Frat!Eren Yeager x Reader

Setting: Modern University AU

Enemies-ish to Lovers | Slowburn | Yearning | Dare Gone Wrong | Inspired by the movie '10 Things I Hate About You'

You’re blunt, beautiful, and allegedly undateable. Eren Yeager is about to find out why.

CHAPTER SIX — BOOKED AND BOUNDARIES

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

You felt him before you saw him.

It was like your body had developed a sixth sense. Some primal “Eren proximity alert” that activated whenever he was near. A heat behind your neck. A tightness in your gut. An urge to turn and glare at something.

Sure enough, when you stepped out of class, there he was.

Leaning against the hallway wall like he belonged in a cologne ad. Arms crossed, hoodie unzipped, a piercing on every crevice of his ear like he didn’t care how obnoxious he looked. His hair was tied back this time, messy, but deliberate, and when his eyes met yours, he straightened up like he’d been waiting all day just for this moment.

And maybe he had.

Your stomach turned in on itself. God, he really was everywhere lately. Not in a desperate, text-you-every-hour kind of way, but in a calculated, always where you least expected him kind of way.

“Hey, wait up,” he called, jogging to catch you as you picked up speed down the corridor.

You didn’t wait.

“I said wait,” he laughed.

“I heard you,” you said without looking at him. “I’m ignoring you.”

“I can tell,” he said, falling into step beside you. “It’s very sexy.”

You shot him a sideways glare. “Why are you here?”

“Relax. I’m not here to harass you—”

“Then keep it moving.”

“Okay, damn,” he grinned. “You always this mean or am I just special?”

You exhaled hard, slowing down. “What do you want, Eren?”

He gave you a look that almost—almost—looked sheepish. “Tutoring.”

You blinked. “Come again?”

“Help. Studying. You. Me. Tuesdays. Sexy intellectual tension.”

You stared at him, unblinking. “You want me to tutor you?”

“Well, I was gonna ask Armin, but he doesn’t take the class and I need someone with expertise.”

“That might be the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

He shrugged, grinning. “Worked, didn’t it? You’re still standing here.”

You crossed your arms. “Why would I help you?”

“Because you like feeling superior.”

“Correct.”

“And I’m flunking Lit Theory. Levi said one more essay that reads like I pulled it out of my ass at 3am and I’m toast.”

“That’s because you did.”

“Exactly. I need structure. Fear. Someone who’ll stab me if I don’t cite Foucault correctly.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You should’ve said no. You wanted to say no.

But the way he looked at you—boyish, hopeful, annoyingly sincere—chipped at the walls you’d carefully built around yourself. You hated how he made you curious. Not just about why he was so persistent, but what he wanted from you. If it was just a game, he was playing it well.

Still, you resisted.

“No. I don’t have time.”

“You literally sit outside the library every day for two hours.”

“Studying. For myself.”

“You don’t even look like you’re reading—”

“Eren.”

He held up both hands, surrendering. “Okay, okay. But just… think about it? One hour a week. I’ll buy you coffee.”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“That’s a lie Princess, you’ve thrown one at me remember?”

You roll your eyes. Giving him nothing.

“I’ll shut up for an entire sixty minutes.”

Your lips twitched. “That I don’t believe.”

A beat passed.

“Please?” he said, tilting his head. “I’ll fail without you. And then Levi’s gonna slime me in front of the class and my ego’s already taken enough damage this semester.”

You sighed. God, this was stupid. He was stupid. Hot and irritating and way too good at getting under your skin.

“…Fine.”

His face lit up. “Wait, really?”

“One hour. Tuesdays. That’s it.”

“Swear?”

“I swear—but if you try anything, or I feel there's an ulterior motive, I’m revoking it.”

He pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “Me? Try anything? I’m a gentleman.”

“Since when?”

He stepped closer.

“Since now,” he said sweetly. “I guess I’m gonna need that number of yours so we can work out times and stuff” He trailed on as innocently as he could.

You immediately felt your eyes beginning to roll as Eren already had his phone in hand, egging you on. You begrudgingly took it and typed your number in, thrusting the phone back into his chest. He smirked, staring at it like he had won a prize, and you felt a shiver climb up your spine.

“And just one condition…” He starts

You narrowed your eyes. “What.”

He grinned, devilish and boyish all at once. “You can’t fall in love with me.”

You blinked.

He winked. “It’s happened before. Tragic, really. Don’t want you catching feelings mid-flashcard.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are. Tutoring me.”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t kill you by midterms.”

“I knew you cared,” he said brightly, already walking backward ahead of you. “See you Tuesday, Professor.”

You flipped him off. He blew you a kiss.

Unfortunately, you were smiling when you walked away.

——

Tuesday morning sunlight bled through your curtains, cutting across the floor like lazy gold. You were curled up on the couch in your dorm’s tiny common area, a mug of half-drunk tea in one hand and a textbook open on your lap—though you hadn’t read a single word on the page.

Pieck was lying sideways across the armchair, one leg dangling off the side, scrolling her phone and chewing on the end of a Twizzler like it was breakfast.

“Okay but tell me why this guy sent me a voice note mid-thrust last night,” she said, casual as ever.

You raised an eyebrow. “Was it at least coherent?”

“Barely. Sounded like a dying goose choking on a compliment.”

“Sexy.”

“Honestly? Ten out of ten experience. He was obsessed. Said I’m the best thing to ever happen to him.”

You smirked. “You do have that effect.”

She grinned, stretching like a cat. “I know. Anyway, what are you doing today? Let me guess. Reading. Judging people. Brewing another batch of Sad Bitch Tea?”

You were about to retort when your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Pieck perked up. “Ooo, who’s that?”

“No one,” you said way too quickly, reaching for it.

Too late.

Pieck had already snatched it up with alarming speed, squinting at the screen.

“Eren: Still on for today?”

She froze. Turned to you slowly. “Why is Tall, Tattooed, and Toxic texting you?”

You sighed, grabbing a throw pillow and hugging it to your chest like a shield. “It’s nothing. I’m just tutoring him.”

Pieck blinked. Then snorted. “You’re what?”

“I said I’m tutoring him. One hour a week. That’s it.”

“Oh, honey. That’s how it always starts.”

“Jesus, Pieck—”

“Do you think he’s gonna raise his hand and call you Miss? Should I leave the dorm so you two can make scholarly eye contact and bone on the coffee table?”

You threw the pillow at her. She caught it, unbothered, and wagged her brows.

“At least wear the cute panties. You know the ones.”

“I’m not seducing him. I’m helping him pass Lit Theory.”

“Tomato, tomahto.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your phone back and texting Eren: yeah. still on. 2pm library. don’t be late or i’m revoking your privileges.

The dots appeared immediately, like he was hovering. u like the idea of me having privileges? kinky.

You locked your phone with a groan and launched it across the couch. Pieck cackled.

“God, you’re already whipped.”

“I am not—”

“You’re flustered. That’s the first sign. Next thing you know you’re posting thirst traps in his hoodie.”

“Over my dead body.”

She raised a brow. “Bold of you to assume he wouldn’t steal your soul and your skincare routine.”

You gave her a middle finger, standing up and stretching, heat blooming in your chest, definitely from frustration. Not nerves. Not anticipation. Not anything that had to do with Eren fucking Yeager and the stupid smirk you could already feel waiting for you at the library.

You just had to get through one hour.

——

The library was quiet in the way only university libraries could be, keyboards clacking, highlighters squeaking, and one guy snoring into his open textbook like he was preparing for a midterm via osmosis.

You scanned the second floor, already irritated. Eren was nowhere to be found.

Of course he wasn’t.

You checked your phone. 2:07 p.m.

Late. And stupid enough to be late to the thing he begged for.

You crossed your arms, toe tapping. You hated people who couldn’t respect your time. Your Monday schedule was packed, your Thursday was a minefield of due dates, and this? This was your sacred window to breathe—and now Eren Yeager was pissing all over it.

You were two seconds from bailing when—

Thud.

He practically crashed through the turnstile doors, chest rising and falling, hoodie inside-out, one shoe half-untied, hair tousled like he lost a fight with the wind.

“Princess,” he wheezed, voice low and breathless. “I made it.”

You blinked. “You’re—why do you look like you just escaped a hostage situation?”

“Had to run,” he said, lifting two items triumphantly. “But I come bearing gifts.”

He dropped a coffee and a paper bag on the table like offerings at an altar. “Your favorite. I stalked your order last week. Ice coffee, two sugars, and a blueberry muffin.”

You hesitated. “I—thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’m trying to bribe your academic loyalty.”

You sat slowly, eyeing him with suspicion. “You’re a mess.”

He plopped down beside you, entirely too close. “Yeah, but a charming mess.”

You edged away an inch. Just one.

He noticed immediately. “Damn. Is this how you treat all your students?”

“Only the ones who sit like they’re trying to absorb knowledge through osmosis.”

He grinned. “That’s a real thing.”

“Sure it is.”

You opened your notebook. “So. What do you need help with?”

“Everything.”

“Start with one thing.”

“Okay,” he said, flipping open his own notes, which looked like the unholy union of a doodle pad and hieroglyphics. “What the fuck is New Historicism?”

You rubbed your temples. “Jesus Christ.”

He smiled proudly. “I’ve heard that before. Usually in bed.”

You gave him a flat look. “You get off on academic humiliation?”

“Only when you’re the one humiliating me.”

“Degenerate.”

“Princess.”

You resisted the urge to smile. Barely.

You explained the basics. Slowly. Patiently. Eren actually listened. He nodded, asked questions, didn’t interrupt too much. You lost track of time.

Halfway through, he asked, “Can you check something I wrote?”

You leaned over instinctively, your hand braced on the table beside his.

And then he froze.

Not visibly. Not dramatically. But you felt it—the tension that crawled into the air like a live wire. He’d stopped breathing.

You didn’t notice until your perfume hit his nose, apparently, because that’s when he really malfunctioned.

You blinked. “Are you—sniffing me?”

“No—!” he said too quickly, jerking back like he’d been caught stealing. “No. I was—breathing. Like a person?”

You squinted. “You’re a freak.”

“I’m respectful!”

“You were sniffing me.”

“It wasn’t sniffing! It was—fuck, you smell nice, okay? God, sorry for having a functioning nose.”

You sat back with a shake of your head. “Pervert.”

“Unfairly attractive tutor.”

“Delusional student.”

He shot you a grin, wide and boyish. “Admit it. You’re starting to like me.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

Instead, you dove back into the reading material, heart thudding louder than it should’ve been. You told yourself it was the caffeine.

You didn’t notice how often he glanced sideways at you, lashes flicking up from his notes to your face. He didn’t even try to hide it,like he wasn’t used to being embarrassed. Or maybe he liked how flustered you got when you caught him.

“So,” he started, voice low, casual. “You talking to anyone right now?”

You didn’t look up. “Yeah. My therapist. And the coffee barista I see more than my own mother.”

Eren chuckled. “Nice. Emotionally detached. Love that.”

You tapped your pen against the table. “Why? You jealous?”

He leaned in a little. “Just scoping out the competition.”

You snorted. “Please. I don’t have the energy to entertain a man and keep my GPA alive.”

He stretched lazily in his seat. “Bet your last boyfriend loved you.”

The words hit harder than they should’ve.

For a second, just a second, the smirk dropped from your lips. Your gaze flicked away. Stiff. Silent.

Eren blinked. He didn’t know why he said it—he meant it as a joke. But your reaction wasn’t funny.

You recovered quickly, brushing hair behind your ear, tone clipped. “Who wouldn’t love me?” you asked as humorously as you could.

Eren straightened a bit. The tension slipped in between your words like smoke.

“Anyway,” you said, voice tight but trying to be light. “Let’s go back to you failing intro to psych. How the hell did you even get this far?”

He raised his hands. “I’m a genius. Just a lazy one.”

“Tragic,” you muttered.

“Maybe,” he said, eyes on you again. “But I got a cute tutor now, so…”

You rolled your eyes, thankful for the shift. “Keep talking like that and I’ll start charging you per compliment.”

“Wouldn’t be the worst use of my student loan.”

You bit back a smile. Despite yourself.

And beside you, Eren leaned just a little closer.

Still watching. Still wondering. Still trying to figure you out.

When the hour ended, you sat back with a sigh.

“You’ve got a long way to go,” you said, gathering your things.

“But?”

“But you’re not hopeless.”

He smirked. “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You rolled your eyes, standing. “I have to go.”

He followed you out, hands in his pockets, that familiar slouch in his step like nothing could bother him.

Outside the library, you turned to go—only for his voice to stop you.

“Hey,” he said. “You wanna do something?”

You glanced at him. “Like what?”

He shrugged, leaning on the rail. “I dunno. Off-campus. Not tutoring.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Like a date?”

He tilted his head, that same cocky grin playing at his lips. “Only if you want it to be.”

There was a pause. A silence you didn’t mean to let stretch.

You folded your arms. “I’d rather not.”

His smile twitched. “Why?”

You shrugged. “Because you’re a walking sexual misconduct allegation in Nikes.”

He gave a huff of a laugh. “That bad, huh?”

“I’ve seen your track record.”

“What if I promised I wouldn’t try anything?”

“Then I’d know you were lying.”

He looked at you then. Really looked. No smirk. Just something soft, unreadable.

“Alright,” he said finally. “No pressure.”

You blinked.

He took a step back, hands still tucked in his pockets. “Thanks for today. I’ll see you next Tuesday?”

You nodded, already turning. “Don’t be late next time.”

As you walked away, you felt it.

That strange, annoying tightness in your chest. Not guilt. Not quite.

Something murkier. Uncomfortable.

You didn’t want to like him.

You didn’t.

It was late afternoon by the time you finally stepped back into the dorm.

Your boots hit the floor with a satisfying thud as you shrugged off your coat, toeing the door shut behind you. The scent of something fried lingered in the air, which could only mean Sasha had arrived.

“Home, sweet home,” Pieck said from the couch, sprawled out in a hoodie that probably wasn’t hers. A Red Bull in one hand. Sasha was curled up beside her with a half-empty bag of chips and a satisfied grin.

“Look who decided to join us,” Sasha grinned, eyes flicking up from her phone. “Library date go well?”

You rolled your eyes. “It wasn’t a date.”

“She says, looking freshly flustered.”

You flipped her off and made your way to the fridge, opening it just to stare. You weren’t even hungry, just needed the cool blast of air to reset your brain.

“Oh,” Sasha said suddenly. “Connie texted me.”

That got your attention.

You closed the fridge and turned. “And?”

“He said we should all hang out soon, like, our group and his group. You know. Do something chill. Club, pub, bowling — whatever.”

You blinked, trying to figure out if you’d heard right.

“Since when does Connie care about hanging out with our group?” you asked, voice low and skeptical.

Pieck stretched, arching an eyebrow. “Maybe he’s bored of his usual crew?”

Sasha shrugged, still grinning. “Honestly, I don’t know. He didn’t say much, just that it’d be fun to mix things up. Said something about ‘breaking the ice’ or whatever.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling the slow creep of suspicion curl in your gut. “Who’s in his group?”

Sasha pulled up the message again and read off the names like she was listing off a menu: “Eren, Jean, Reiner, Floch, Armin, Niccolo, and Connie himself, obviously.”

Your throat tightened at the mention of Eren. Your stomach flipped in a way that made you want to shove the water bottle back in the fridge and disappear under your bed.

Pieck caught the shift in your expression instantly. “What’s up? Is it lover boy.” She teased

You shook your head, forcing a casual shrug. “No. Shut up.”

But Sasha caught your hesitation. “So then whats wrong?”

“Just… weird timing,” you said, your voice sharper than you meant. “Eren just asked me to do something. And now this.”

Pieck smirked knowingly. “Sounds like someone’s got a plan. Or that you’re just insanely paranoid”

You rolled your eyes, but the knot in your stomach didn’t loosen.

“Whatever,” you muttered, cracking the water bottle open again. “We’ll see what this ‘group hangout’ really means.”

Sasha laughed. “You’re paranoid.”

You almost smiled, but the uneasy feeling settled heavier than before.

Because you weren’t sure if it was paranoia.

You were sure Eren was up to something.

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cc1306 · 2 months ago

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faking it

iou | previous chapter | chapter index

everyone has a price - even suguru geto

synopsis: with no friends and a wallet full of cash, you concoct one last idea to make your final semester one to remember. paying everyone's favorite pretty playboy to pretend to be your boyfriend to complete your college bucket list before you start the life your family is forcing you into. but you might be buying far more than you bargained for.

pairings: broke!Geto x rich!Reader x dropout!Sukuna

content: mdni, angst and fluff, college au, fake dating, pining, yearning, Geto is a bit of an asshole, reader is VERY awkward lol, making out, seven minutes in heaven, skinny dipping, secondhand embarrassment, emotional hurt, protective Geto + Sukuna

art by @aransmind !!

Something Gojo threw was probably a bad idea for your first party in hindsight.

You had to park blocks away, pulling Sukuna's hoodie off and setting it down on your passenger seat after folding it neatly, smoothing out the wrinkles before checking your reflection in the mirror one last time. Your skin still smelled like him, but you couldn't bring yourself to spritz more perfume over your clothes, like his scent was some shield to protect you from the snakes and vipers out tonight.

The second bad idea was the expensive bottle of wine in the blue gift bag, glitter tissue paper sticking out the top.

But you couldn't fight everything that was engrained inside you, the polite and practiced habits, trained to be grateful, thankful for anyone who put up with you.

Drunk partygoers passed by while you locked your car, slipping your keys inside of your purse and clutching it and the gift bag against your chest while you stepped out into the street, narrowly avoiding tripping in the holes in the pavement as you walked alone up to the house it was obviously being hosted at.

A few people sober enough to see you stared, but none of them were the one you were looking for.

You had to squeeze past a tight throng of bodies to get through the door, music and voices all mingling on top of each other, familiar panic squeezing everything inside your chest, organs straining against your rib cage the longer you looked around and couldn't find Geto.

A girl you recognized from your labs noticed you when you walked through the living room, giggling and nudging her friend to point out out.

She wasn't the only one.

Now that you were inside, it felt like everyone was snickering the second they realized you were here.

Gojo found you first.

"You made it," He leaned down to talk to you, excited enough to disarm you, help ease the worst of the apprehension. "Come on."

You followed him there, grabbing the edge of his shirt to not lose him in the crowd, watching him wave off other people before the dim hallway turned into the tile of the kitchen, all bright wallpaper and expensive appliances, cups and alcohol littering every surface, but not nearly as many people congesting it.

"What's that?" He asked, gesturing to the bag before you uncomfortably shuffled on your feet and held it out for him.

"It's uh, nothing, really. Just something to thank you for inviting me," You answered, waiting for him to grab it so you could look away.

"I'd never say no to present," He winked, laughing as he ripped out the tissue paper and glitter got on his jeans and scattered across the floor. Gojo proudly held up the wine, twisting it around to read the label before grinning. "Thanks."

You nodded, not sure what to say to keep the conversation from dying.

But Gojo was the kind of guy who could talk to a wall without getting bored.

"What's your handle?" He asked, looking over his shoulder at you before putting the bottle up on a high shelf, like he already decided to save it for something else. He pulled out his phone next, typing something into it just for his eyes to flick back up expectantly for your answer.

You blinked at him for a second, glossy lips parted before you realized that most likely looked stupid.

"Oh, like on Instagram or-?"

"Any of them," Gojo laughed again, pouring you a beer from the tap on the counter before walking back over with an easy smile.

"I, um, don't use social media," You admitted with a shrug, hating how much of a loser it made you sound like. You sipped your beer instead, cringing at how bitter it was and still drinking more so you didn't seem rude.

"Seriously?" He cocked a brow up, scrunching his nose like he couldn't believe it.

"I don't really have many friends," You mumbled, barely keeping yourself from frowning at thought you didn't actually have any friends. "Just thought it'd be kinda embarrassing to create an account if I don't have people to add."

"I could be your first," Gojo gladly offered. He didn't miss a beat. Didn't make you feel like a loner. Just volunteered.

You opened your mouth to stammer through a response before a warm hand suddenly pressed against your spine.

"Hey," Geto murmured in your ear, soft and smooth, sinking into your skin.

You froze. Brain malfunctioning at the warmth and how close he was, lips grazing just barely against your skin.

"Hi," You breathed.

He sighed, but it was more of a calm exhale, not holding any disappointment or disapproval. You looked back at him just to pause again at the way he was looking at you, half-lidded and hazy, loosened up by however many drinks he had.

"Let's put your purse somewhere safe," He gestured down at it, taking you upstairs and pulling out a key from his pocket to unlock a door, grabbing your purse and walking inside with it before coming back out to lock it again.

"Oh, um, thank you," You breathed.

Geto didn't say anything else, but you let his hand guide you back out into another living room, smaller than the first, but with less people crowding around. He took the seat in the corner of the couch, pulling you down next to him, one of your legs half on his lap, his hand over your skirt.

"Satoru texted me that you were here," He said, all that confidence he just had simmering down to something softer, more unsure now that you were almost alone. "You could've called me."

"I didn't want to interrupt if you were talking to your friends," You mumbled shyly, glancing around the few other people too drunk to pay attention to you.

Paying Geto didn't make you feel like less like an inconvenience to him.

Even if he was in a good mood tonight.

"You're supposed to be my girlfriend," He reminded you with a chuckle.

"Oh," You laughed with him, but even that sounded clumsy. You hurried to finish the rest of your drink, leaning over to place it on the edge of the coffee table. "Yeah."

Geto was just a good enough actor to sell the scene for the both of you.

"I've, um, never had a boyfriend before," You confessed, not sure what saying it would do, but hoping it'd make you look less inept rather than more.

He frowned at that, but before he could say anything, Gojo made his second appearance, leaning over to wrap an arm around each of you and squeezing you together.

"You look good together," He teased, winking at Geto.

You wondered if he meant it, or if maybe it was some inside joke. One you were secretly the butt of.

"Don't you have some sorority girl to make out with?" Geto rolled his eyes, brushing his arm off with a light huff.

"Relax," Gojo hummed, the dim yellow lights bouncing around in his eyes, carefree, shoulders rolled back like there wasn't anything weighing them down. "I just had a small suggestion."

"Sure you do," Geto dryly replied, his hand on your thigh suddenly squeezing. Probably just for show.

"There's a closet over there with your name still on it," Gojo goaded, almost sloshing his drink over the rim of his solo cup pointing over to a small wooden door.

"What?" You didn't get it.

"See how cute she is? You've never played seven minutes in heaven, have you?" Gojo's teasing wasn't mean-spirited, it was oddly sincere, in his own way. His attempt at being considerate rather than condescending.

"I haven't," You admitted, chewing on your lip.

Did it seem desperate?

It wasn't like you actually wanted to be stuck in a confined space with a guy you knew didn't like you.

You just sort of expected Geto to shut it down.

But then Geto was grumbling and getting up, guiding you over to it while Gojo cheered and drew every state that wasn't already focused on you over.

The door shutting felt like the lid to your coffin closing.

The light hanging overhead was white but dim, barely giving off enough light to dispel the shadows..

You hadn't pictured being locked in a closet with your pretend boyfriend to be so embarrassing.

He was still glancing at the thick door, his mind still on the other side of it. You pushed aside the shoes littering the floor to sit down against the wall, underneath all the coats hanging up. Knees to your chest, not particularly caring if Geto got a peek of the lacy panties underneath your skirt when he was uninterested in the rest of you.

You studied the floor, counting the scuffs in the wooden grain just so you wouldn't have to look up at him. You were surprised when he sat down in front of you, glancing at him with wide eyes.

"What are you doing?" He murmured.

"I-I just figured-" You started to stammer only to abruptly shut yourself up when he reached out to graze his thumb against your cheek. It wasn't adoring. Not dazed or dripping in desire. Just curiosity. Like you were a puzzle he couldn't quite piece together.

He was softer like this. All those harsh edges and high-strung worries you shared dulled by the alcohol in his system. What was in yours had only left that faint tingle of warmth in your chest and stomach, but when he tilted his head to the side and stared at you, you couldn't help but question how much of that feeling was from him.

"We still have six minutes left," Geto shrugged, scrutinizing the way your mouth was parted in shock, how wide your eyes were when he leaned in and brushed his lips against your own.

"Geto-" You breathed when he pulled away, his nose still grazing against yours.

"You should at least get the full party experience," He murmured, pulling back and swiping his thumb over your bottom lip.

"You don't have-" You started to dismiss, but then he was leaning in again, the taste of beer and cherry lip gloss on your own lips and something faintly sweet on his.

And then he was tugging you into his lap, not really enough for you to actually straddle him, but your legs awkwardly swinging over to one side and his arm wrapped around your back to almost cradle you against his chest.

His tongue tracing your teeth, exploring your mouth, while his palm pressed down through your thin shirt, the heat of it practically branding you. Geto took the lead like he did with everything else, sucking on your bottom lip before leaving a trail of soft kisses over your jaw and down your throat, chuckling at the way his teeth skimming over your tendons made you gasp.

You had to remind yourself you were paying him for this.

That as much as it tasted real, he never would've touched you if you hadn't paid him.

You stiffened in his lap, and he immediately noticed, pausing to look at your face to see what was wrong. "You okay?"

"Yeah," You lied.

You didn't want to ruin the moment - even if it was fake.

He went back to kissing your neck, his sturdy fingers taking your jaw and tilting it so he had better access, his canines sinking in as he sucked hard and you squirmed in his arms.

"Just got a remind them you're mine," He murmured.

Yeah, that was supposed to be the point, wasn't it?

A loud knock on the door startled you, Gojo's perky voice calling out from outside that the time was up and for Geto to come out with his pants on and zipper up.

You hurried to stand, brushing off your skirt and wiping at your lips, even more flustered than you had been when you showed up.

Geto pulled open the door with his usual unreadable stare despite the onslaught of teasing from Gojo, the other stares glued to both of you walking out, the whispers being spread.

But then Gojo laughed, and the tension broke.

A handful of people approached, guys and girls, all of them talking and giggling, switching from subject to subject, mostly stuff you were clueless about or happened in classes you weren't in. A few times, you tried to interject just to get talked over, standing on the fringes and watching him get swallowed up by the group. Silently listening and nodding and trying to laugh at all the right times, even when all you got was an eye roll or flat-out ignored.

You slipped away while he was still distracted.

No real goal in mind. Just squeezing past people and looking through all the rooms. Giving yourself a house tour since it wasn't like anyone else would show you.

You might've just left if some of the girls from before hadn't found you about to grab a second drink from the kitchen, Suguru standing at the counter and chatting, while you clung to the shadows.

"You're Suguru's girlfriend, right?" A blonde one giggled, lips pursed together and eyes all big and bright.

"Um, yeah," You swallowed, preemptively setting the cup down at the counter while they all exchanged looks.

"We're about to go skinny dipping out back," She added, pointing at a glass door. Thick blinds covered it, making it almost impossible to see through to the backyard.

"Yeah, you wanna come with us?" One of the other ones grinned, tossing her hair back.

You glanced behind you, but Suguru was distracted taking another shot, too absorbed in another conversation to even notice. "Sure."

It was the worst idea yet to think they had anything other than bad intentions.

But you wanted to believe them. Wanted to ignore the feeling screaming at you in your gut when you followed them out to the pool and let them guilt you into stripping after they took off their clothes.

Convinced that since they jumped in, it was safe.

The second your clothes were piled up and you were in the water, they were all scrambling to get out, laughing at you when they snagged your clothes and ran off, leaving you naked and freezing in a pool just feet away from a house full of people.

As if the night couldn't get more embarrassing, Gojo found you. Lipstick stain on his neck and red solo cup in his hand, blue eyes hazy as he stumbled outside and you reluctantly called out his name. His reaction was slow, sliding around the greenery until he noticed you in the pool.

"What's up?" He slurred, almost falling in to join you when he walked over and bent down. His eyes went wide the second he noticed your absent clothes, the way your hand was covering your chest to barely conceal your breasts.

"Some girls stole my clothes," You muttered, giving him the short version of events, breath hitching and hot tears forming in the corner of your eyes, but you refused to blink and let them fall. "C-could you help?"

"Shit, okay, sure," He frowned, brows scrunched together in shock for a second before starting to strip off his clothes.

"What are-" Your voice died when his underwear hit the concrete, turning into a squeak as you glanced away.

"Wear mine," He offered, getting in the pool with you.

You scampered out before you had more company, dripping water without even a towel to dry off, definitely flashing Gojo as you hurried to pull his t-shirt over your head and slip on his boxers.

Looking like you just fucked Gojo was better than being naked.

"Thank you," You murmured, looking back at him where he was content to lounge in the pool, nude or not.

"Course," He hummed. "Suguru's in the kitchen if you're looking for him."

All you wanted was to get your keys and go.

Call this whole stupid idea off and return to receiving the cold shoulder from the rest of the school. Clearly, you were wrong to think they'd ever see you as a real person.

You hurried through the kitchen. Didn't spare a glance for anyone else despite the jokes you knew were directed at you. Just headed straight for the upstairs bedroom where Geto had locked up your stuff for safe-keeping. You tried the knob just to make sure no one else had snuck in before pulling out a hair pin and bending it into a straight line, sticking it through the small keyhole and jiggling it around until you felt the pins inside start to unlatch.

There were a few odd perks from being kept under lock and key your whole life. Including learning how to pick them.

It only took thirty seconds for you to get it unlocked, pushing the door open and sighing with relief when you saw your purse still on the bed. It only took a second to realize it was probably Gojo's room, the blue comforter and the photos of him plastered on the wall. A couple sets of keys were on the nightstand, a wallet you guessed was Geto's. For a moment, you considered shoving cash in it for tonight's payment, but you decided against it. You'd give it to him Monday and cut everything off clean. This was it.

You were about to snatch your stuff and go, but you paused again, glancing around the room over to the open closet, clothes on the floor and barely any on the hangers, hurrying over to get Gojo something to wear too.

Geto was standing behind you by the time you grabbed everything and turned around. Leaning against the doorframe and studying your soaking wet frame, the oversized clothes hanging off them.

"Where are you going?" He asked, his voice strained.

"Home," You sighed, tossing Gojo's clothes to him. "Gojo's going to need those. He's in the pool."

"So come with me," Geto offered, broad shoulders basically blocking the way out. "What happened?"

"Some friends of yours invited me skinny dipping," You muttered, staring at the floor while you talked. A hard lump had formed in your throat, making it even harder to get your words out. "They took my clothes and left me in there. Gojo gave me his."

There was something about the way he watched you that made you feel like you were on trial, that he constantly wavered between the verdict depending on what you said, the way you blinked, how you moved.

You didn't look up at him.

Couldn't.

"Will you at least let me walk you to your car?" He eventually asked, and in the edges of your vision, you are watched his knuckles turn white from gripping the clothes so tightly.

"If you want to," You quietly answered, wondering if that had a cost too.

You waited for him to come back when he went to give Gojo his clothes, sitting on the edge of the bed and feeling like a pet that had been left in the rain, cold and shivering as you held your own arms, rubbing little circles into your own skin trying to soothe yourself.

Your phone buzzed in your purse, only pausing to dig it out and see a few missed messages from Sukuna asking if you would come in tomorrow.

The second you opened it and the message was marked as read, he called, your thumb hesitating to answer.

For some reason, it felt more mortifying for him to know about how awful the night had gone when he'd seen how nervous you were earlier.

He scoffed the second you picked up.

"What time do you want me there?" You quietly spoke into the speaker before he could speak first.

"Are you drinking?" He huffed, his way of asking if you'd be hungover in the morning.

"I only had one beer like, an hour ago," You answered, but the taste on your tongue was a different kind of bitter now. "I'll be fine."

"Having fun?" He wryly asked.

"Um, no, not really," You murmured, voice small, watching a water droplet hit Gojo's floor from where you were still dripping.

"The hell are you doing there then?" He asked. The real question was why the hell had you even shown up? Just to have your own personal pity party?

"I'm about to leave," You sighed, sniffling and rubbing your face with your other hand. Streaks of makeup were left on it, mascara and eyeliner and glitter all sticking to your fingers.

"Are you crying?" He bluntly asked, and you hadn't been, but the question splintered the last of your shield, getting choked up trying to stop yourself from crying.

"No," You grumbled, sniffling hard in your attempt to hold it together.

"Liar," He huffed. "Do you need me to pick you up?"

"No," You repeated, wiping your eyes again, refusing to let yourself break in a house with all these other people.

"Text me the address and I'll be there." It sounded more like a demand than an offer.

"I can drive myself," You protested, just for Geto to show back up in the doorway. You paused, uncomfortably shifting before talking into the speaker. "Look, I'm leaving now, okay?

He made a disgruntled noise, hanging up before you could. What were the odds he'd throw a fit if you didn't text him when you got home?

Geto cleared his throat across from you.

He was staring.

"Sorry, it's just my boss," You mumbled under your breath before shoving your phone back in your bag.

"Calling you now?" Geto asked, as if he cared what the answer was.

"He just asked if I could come in tomorrow," You sniffled again, recollecting yourself. If you couldn't cry over the phone with Sukuna, you certainly weren't going to do it in front of Geto.

You didn't need to add crybaby to the list of terrible things he thought about you.

It was awkward walking down the stairs and out through all the strangers who still didn't like you onto the street. He didn't say much, just studying you how he always did.

Didn't it get boring?

It wasn't like there was anything he'd find interesting about you.

"Which girls did it?" Geto eventually grimaced.

"It doesn't matter," You breathed. You knew better than to engage in any kind of retaliation. It happened. You'd live. Why dare them to do something like it again?

"You can tell me." You couldn't, not really. If you did, then you'd just be hurt when he wouldn't do anything about it either.

You kept your mouth shut.

Just let him walk you the rest of the way to your car. He'd commented the first time he saw it that he was surprised it wasn't pink. And actually? You used to have one. Until it kept getting vandalized. Small stuff, usually, gum stuck to the side, little dents and dings you suspected were intentional, but then someone keyed it, and you had to get something more inconspicuous.

It was just another unfortunate facet of life.

Geto wasn't the kind of guy who'd give you pity points anyway.

You figured he'd just walk off now that he'd finished his work, free to have whatever fun he wanted.

Convinced that he'd be gone by the time you opened your door. But he didn't budge, standing behind you more like a bodyguard than a boyfriend.

"Have a good night," You murmured, unlocking you car without looking over your shoulder. Slipping into the seat and about to shut the door before he suddenly grabbed it, the breeze on your exposed skin making you shudder again.

"I'm sorry," He abruptly apologized, brows furrowed and flustered as he slotted himself between you and the door to keep you from what? Slamming it shut with his fingers still there? "I was a shitty date tonight."

"It's not your fault," You shrugged. His real friends were there. You'd never expected any more from him than the occasional arm around you or a peck on your cheek.

Making out was certainly more than enough.

The image you had in your head for how you wanted tonight to go never would've come true anyway.

"You should at least call me an asshole," He spoke slowly.

"Why?" You quizzed, tilting your head to the side. There was another brittle wind, and you turned away from him to grab Sukuna's hoodie from the passenger seat, pulling it over your head to warm up.

His jaw clenched, glancing down at the fabric you were drowning in before looking back into your eyes.

"I should've stayed by your side," He said, all his muscles still locked tight like something was annoying him.

"I shouldn't have come," You awkwardly laughed, anxiously rubbing the back of your neck under the soft material of the hoodie. "Honestly, this whole thing was a terrible idea."

Geto hesitated, watching every raw emotion flicker across your face. Regret and embarrassment all rolled into a painfully tight lump bobbing in your throat.

"You didn't do anything wrong," He forced the words out, frowning at whatever expression you were wearing.

You couldn't help but giggle at that when it felt like everything you did had been wrong.

"Well, thanks anyway," You managed a tight-lipped smile, before looking down to dig through your purse for cash. You'd stopped to withdraw extra on your way here, counting the bills one more time before holding it out for him to take. "Let's just call this whole thing off, okay?"

"What?"

"All I really wanted was to make some friends, and I just thought since everyone likes you, maybe they'd give me a chance if you liked me too," You shrugged, holding out the cash further for him to grab just for him to stand there and stare. You didn't want to look at him anymore. "It was stupid of me."

"It's not," He quietly said.

"I appreciate you trying," You thanked him. You didn't want to sound pushy, didn't want to shove it at him, but he didn't move.

"Let me try again."

"What?" You once again didn't understand. Weren't getting the what or why behind it.

Did he just want more money?

"The aquarium was on your list, right?" He asked, thin brows furrowed together.

"I mean, yeah, but-"

"Skip your lecture on Friday and we'll go. I'll help you make some friends, okay?" He spoke firmly, like he'd already come to some decision in his head about you.

An insecure sliver if you wondered if he just pitied you too much to hate you anymore.

"You will?" You heard yourself ask, waiting for him to say nevermind.

"Yeah," He nodded.

This time though?

You couldn't bring yourself to get your hopes up.

Being late for work was one of the few firsts you hadn't planned on.

Your body was exhausted, muscles sore like you'd slept wrong, blinking back exhaustion as you rolled over and squinted at the sun cutting through the curtains. You were yawning when you grabbed your phone out from under your pillow, but someone might as well have dunked your head underwater when you tapped on it and realized you'd be at least fifteen minutes late at best.

Scrambling to get ready through the sleepy haze, hastily scrounging through your closet for a fresh pair of jeans and not bothering to change out of Sukuna's hoodie or even put on makeup, only deodorant before grabbing your phone and keys to get out the door.

Sukuna was waiting for you when you got there.

Arms folded across his chest, gaze slinking over your jeans and his slept-on hoodie drowning you.

"I'm sorry," You pushed your lips together, rubbing your eyes for the thousandth time since you woke up.

Sukuna poked the hickey you'd forgotten about.

"Shitty night?" He cocked his head to the side, and you couldn't discern what was burning behind his eyes. It wasn't like he was the kind of guy to care about professionalism enough to be bothered by the bruise poking out underneath your collar. Choso and Yuki came in with them all the time. Was it irritation that you were late then?

"Yeah," You sighed, shrugging as you say your purse down. "I'm sorry I didn't have time to make your lunch this morning."

He scoffed, and you stopped breathing for a second.

Wondering if maybe this was the moment you were no longer worth keeping around.

If you'd get to add fired to your list of experiences.

But then he pushed his hair back, running his fingers through the stray strands, flashes of silver his rings catching the light as he sighed.

"Whatever, guess I'll have to take you to lunch then."

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