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lifewtr · 25 days ago

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the 1st half of my 1st ever suguru x reader fic, if y’all even care 🫣😵‍💫 // written for jonesy bc i love her that’s it that’s the tweet ♡

RATED E

#racer!geto, #flirting, #kissing, #smut [in pt.2]

You were there for work, nothing more. So how on earth did you end up on the hood of Geto Suguru’s car with his head between your legs?

ONE WAY ⇒

YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW your name ended up in the hat for an event like this. Dinners are more your speed—luncheons, networking seminars, the occasional runway show or black tie gala, those were the functions more suited to your on-the-clock palette—and yet, somehow, you have found yourself here, sinking sun beating down your back and Japan’s Top 100 blaring obnoxiously in your ears.

“The overtime comes with a big, shiny bonus on this one,” your boss hadn’t grinned, but the twinkle in his eye might as well have been one when he went on to tell you, “if you bag this pup for us I’ll personally make sure that you get a coat too,” as if he were some manic, monochromatic cartoon villain with a weird vendetta.

So in truth it’s not to say you don’t know how you ended up at this event, only that you are starting to regret stepping up to the task of attending with each passing second.

A man in neon green heels and what barely qualifies as shorts dances by. You snag a flute of bubbly from the tray that he’s carrying and promptly start downing it, holding the guy still with a pointed raise of your well manicured finger. He blinks and then grins brightly at you, the hearty “hell yeah!” he gives all but drowned out by the music as he accepts the empty glass and at once hands you another.

You offer no more than a nod as thanks and then quickly turn away.

The urge to use the freely flowing alcohol to smooth your way through the day is already too tempting. You know better than that though. You’re here to work, and too much too soon would get you nowhere at a party like this one.

The deck of the yacht you stand on is crowded to the brim. Internet personalities, CEO kids, and upper-crust socialites from around the world all grin at one another from behind their reflective aviators, dye jobs, and identical ‘do you know who I am’ grins. Honestly, if it weren’t for the profiles that your team compiled for you in advance you would have next to no idea as to who was who.

If it weren’t for the fact that your boss had wanted you to snag a certain someone’s attention, you’d settle for a random handful and call it a day. The net worth within a seven foot radius of you is so ridiculous all on its own—you’re more than entirely sure that if it comes down to it, if you are somehow unable to complete the specific requirements of today’s job, that your boss wouldn’t even be that upset about you coming back with the proverbial sloppy seconds.

You sweep the deck one more time as you finish your champagne, finding no more worthwhile information to take note of than the first three times you’d done it. Decided, you set your empty flute onto a random surface and cut a circle around the center of the yacht. It’s not hard for you to work your way past guarded velvet rope and into the upper deck hosting the VVIP section; with your perfectly styled coils adorned delicately with gilded cowrie, you more than look the part of my daddy’s rich.

The bouncers let you through without so much as a second glance.

- - -

Geto Suguru is bored.

It’s not to say that he doesn’t love a good party, or a promising night of drinking and games with his friends—especially a night of drinking and games out in the water—but tonight he just doesn’t have it in him. It’s friday, an hour and a half before sunset, and the Okinawan wind is too minimal. The sky is too clear.

It’s a perfect night for a ride and instead of being at the garage readying up for a much needed lay of the land, he’s stuck on one of the Gojo’s many oversized boats listening to the fucking radio for the next three hours.

How is it that even a yacht full of half naked men and women can’t take his mind off of driving? It usually works but clearly it’s no dice for him today. He’s denied everyone that’s approached him tonight, instead preferring recollecting the calming feel of leather under his palms. The invigorating dump of the clutch and the satisfying, successful shift from 4th to 6th.

Another sugary, over-hyped pop song plays, its bubblegum beat screeching Suguru’s peaceful thoughts to yet another annoying halt.

“Satoru,” he groans across the den for at least the third time since the party started, “I told you to turn this Hot 100 shit off! It’s giving me a goddamned headache.”

“And I told you,” comes the occupied response, a girl’s ticklish giggle as Gojo nips playfully between her tits, “that I’m reaaallly busy! Take it up with the DJ already!”

“Don’t,” comes Sukuna’s quick interjection from the makeshift poker table, “nobody wants to hear your crybaby emo shit right now either.”

“Which would still be better than this crap,” Choso sighs, tossing his cards with a scoff. “Fold.”

“Obliged,” Kento hums with a barely-there smirk. “Ryomen?”

“I’m not folding shit,” Sukuna tsks, causing Yuki to grin at his side. “Tag team?” She waggles her brows imploringly at Sukuna, who matches her fiendish grin over the heads of a blushing pair of men between them easily, and just like that Suguru is back to being the last thing on his friend’s minds.

“Fine, whatever,” he huffs at them as he stands with a stretch, “I’m going for a smoke. Keep those same attitudes when I dust your asses on the trail tomorrow.”

His quip is met with a resounding chorus of disgruntled booing and shit talk, a disagreeing head shake from Kento and a middle finger from Yuki. Annoyed as he is, the mutual display of “fuck you” only manages to make him chuckle with a deep-rooted affection.

Lovable dickhead idiots.

Suguru slinks off towards the bar, trading Toji twenty yen for his lighter because he’s actually supposed to be quitting, and the rule is he has to pay up if he wants to take a hit.

He wades his way through the throng of dancing bodies just outside the den on the way to the floor’s private deck. Hardly a gust blows through his hair, his flame steady where he cups it around the tip of his cigarette. The sight of the shore in the distance taunts him.

It really is too fucking bad he’s stuck out here.

“Hmph.” He murmurs to himself as he nears the bow’s railing. The ocean laps at the sides of the yacht peacefully below. Surely Satoru won’t notice his absence with that lapful of eager woman he’s been so busy with. “Maybe I can take the emergency speed boat..?”

“Hatching an escape plan huh?” Says a voice full of mirth from off to his side. “Let me know if you’ve got a ballpark on the success rate. I’m pretty sure I’m done with this party, too.”

“Total bust right?” Suguru chuckles wryly, pausing in taking a proper drag of his cigarette. He’s not sure if he’s glad or irritated at the interruption of his nicotine fix. “If I see another neon pink bikini top I’m going to throw myself overboard.”

“Oh? And what’s wrong with bikini tops?”

And its then, as Suguru realizes that no one outside of their group is allowed on this side of the bow—that the voice at his side is cool and sweet like the evening should be—that you make your way into his line of vision.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You’d been looking for Gojo Satoru and Ryomen Sukuna. You spent the last three hours talking to Geto Suguru instead.

A stroke of luck, you’ll call it later, because you don’t believe in fate.

Fate wouldn’t put you in the passenger seat of a very illegally modded 240sx with what Geto informs you is a rolling cage; just in case fixed up in the back, with a window tint dark enough to block out the quickly blurred skyline of Naha.

Fate wouldn’t make your mouth dry out every time Geto curled his fingers around the gear shift. Fate wouldn’t make your pussy throb every time he pressed his foot to the gas pedal, either.

Luck would, though, and as luck would have it you liked Geto Suguru very much—and he seemed to like you back. It’s how you found yourself deciding to forget about work; to hold his hand and sneak off away from your targets instead of working your way in with them the moment the yacht returned to port.

It’s also how you find yourself crossing your legs as Geto flicks his violet gaze to the rear view mirror before promptly switching gears again.

ONE WAY ONLY, the next sign reads.

“Where are we going again?” You ask, a little breathless at the visage of this very delectable man operating this speeding death trap with insane ease.

Geto flashes you a quick grin, the dimple you've grown fond of over the last several hours appearing to make your heart skip a little too hard. A lock of long hair flicks across his jaw, strayed from his messy top-knot, and his teeth gleam in the light of the starry dashboard, handsome vixen features softened in the cabin’s shadows. “I know a place you’ll like,” he says in that awfully honeyed voice of his, “it’s not so far outside the city. The terrain is a little.. drifty, but the view is absolutely worth it. You’ll see.”

“Sounds totally not shady,” you jest, “you’re not planning to kill me and dump my body somewhere off the grid, are you? And serious answers only—I will jump out of this car, I don’t care how fast it’s going!”

Geto lets out one of those little deep and rumbly chuckles that have been unfairly endearing him to you all damn night. “Nah, promise you I’m not,” he says, and this time when he speaks it's accompanied by the unmistakable feeling of his eyes trailing up your body—legs to plush thighs, lingering at your chest and exposed shoulders before landing squarely on your heating face.

Yet another thing that has unfairly endeared him to you tonight.

“If anyone is doing the killing here it’s definitely you.”

“You flirting with me right now, Geto-kun?” You deflect, grateful your blush can’t be seen so easily. “I thought you said earlier that you weren’t much of a flirt.”

Geto rolls his eyes, glancing between you and the road. “C’mon, that is not what I said! I said I don’t like flirting, not that I’m not one.”

“You have also yet to accept the fact that that means absolutely nothing, in any country, anywhere—”

“—oh please. You just like to argue with me, don’t you bunny?”

......................................

FULL CHAPTER ON AO3 <3

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