#Geto suguru smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

spearofheaven · 3 days ago

Text

⋆˚࿔ OBJECTS IN THE MIRROR — artist! geto suguru

SUM. Going from being your lover last week to not knowing your name this week.

CONTENTS. 18+ contents, MDNI. 7k words. x fem! reader. non canon compliant/au. smut. angst. amnesia. lovers to strangers. inappropriate use of paint. 69. cunnilingus. face fucking. spanking. unprotected p in v. fingering. missionary. doggy. cum eating. creampie. switching. use of pet names.

A/N. twas truly on a geto run last year. positive comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

Almost every artist's dream is to create a piece that resembles one that stands proudly in museums, the one bewitching masterpiece that garners the attention of everyone around it. That attracts attention the way a light beckons a moth.

Or at least, that's what Suguru had been trying to achieve through the countless doodles and paintings that he'd made throughout college. Using cheap colors that he'd bought at a bargained price after working too many hours at a job that paid too little.

A number of sketchbooks stuffed into a drawer, each of them offering a glimpse into what lingered behind his subconscious. The gorgeous aspects of life that he could only hope he was able to encapsulate through his work and the more.. nasty aspects.

And now that Suguru had all the art supplies that he could dream of (and more), he couldn't bring himself to actually draw something. The cabinets in his office were filled up to the brim with different pigments, oils and watercolors, blank canvases. All just simply begging to be used as the days passed by. "I'll do it tomorrow," he assured himself every time throughout the week after when after that he passed the closed office door.

After many many tomorrows, Suguru finally decided to step into the room. His movements were slow and deliberate as he prepped his workspace, adjusting all the brushes to be lined up against each other uniformly. As if the slightest displacement of his brushes would be enough to get him to mess up the work he'd been planning to do. After rearranging for what seemed to be the hundredth time, Suguru decided to pick up one of the brushes.

Just to firmly grasp it in his hand, the plastic digging into his palm. Standing completely and utterly still.

Suguru could feel himself slowly start his descent into madness the longer that he stood in front of the empty canvas with a paintbrush in hand, his paints starting to dry out with every minute that he was still. He'd been stuck in a creative rut for the past couple weeks, wanting to put one of the many ideas that roamed freely in his head onto the canvas without actually being able to. It was like his mind went black the second he was ready.

The once bright sunlight that'd been peering in through the windows had now started to dim down, leaving behind a shadow that covered a majority of the room. A shadow that would surely ruin Suguru's work if he were to get started now. Surely. That's what he told himself when he decided to call it quits for the day, untying his apron and hanging up on the coat rack at the back of the room.

Even so, he couldn't help himself from walking back over to the canvas. Hoping that some surge of inspiration would come to him—the same inspiration that he'd sacrificed nights of sleep long ago just to be able to create a piece to his liking. The type of inspiration that deeply embedded itself into his brain, begging to be put onto the canvas. Begging to be executed. Begging to be seen.

You stood by the door, quietly making your way into the room to where he stood. "What're you up to?" You whispered, your lips hovering above his ear while your arms were wrapped around his lower stomach from behind. Suguru melted into your touch automatically, his eyes fluttering shut. You'd distracted him—that much was certain. But that seemed to be exactly what he needed right now. Allowing himself to get out of his head.

"Staring at an empty canvas and hoping it magically turns into a masterpiece. You, pretty girl?" Suguru turned to face you, his hands instinctively resting on your hips. "Staring at an artist hoping he magically makes a masterpiece."

"With you in the room, it'd be a hard task not to create a masterpiece."

"That's what I was going for. Been told I'm an excellent muse."

"My excellent muse." Your lips connected with Suguru's in a span of seconds, your eyes fluttering shut as the taste of him completely invaded your seconds. One of your hands reached back to the mess that he'd raked his fingers through countless times, holding a fistful of his hair to pull him closer to you. The exchange was something like two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly.

And in the midst of kissing you, a lightbulb went off in Suguru's head. The first bit of inspiration that he's gotten since entering the room nearly three hours ago. "There's something in that big brain of yours?" Your question drew out a laugh from him, the small huff of air hitting the side of your neck. "Something like that, yeah. I need your help with it, pretty girl."

Suguru taped piece after piece of white paper together—completely covering the pristine brown floors of his studio. He knew damn well he wouldn't hear the end of it from you if he ended messing up the floors with the little experiment that he had in mind. You could only stare from the doorway with your arms folded, trying to decipher what he was hoping to achieve.

"Come here, please," Suguru gestured for you to join him once the pieces were secured onto each other. You joined him once the floor, watching as he slipped off his shirt with ease. Your clothes ended up on the floor in record time, watching as Suguru grabbed some acrylic paint bottles from one of the overflowing cabinets. "Normally acrylic's a pain in the ass to work with since it dries so fast but it should be fine."

"Should be fine for what, exactly?" Your head cocked to the side, watching as he took off the plastic wrap around the cap. Suguru looked over at you with a sheepish expression, hesitating before answering your question. "Just hear me out," Suguru's hands ran down your bare thighs in some half-assed attempt to soften the blow, "I was thinking we could put some paint on us and y'know.. have sex on the canvas."

Oh.

"That's it?" You retorted, having to stifle a laugh.

Suguru's hands stilled on your thighs, looking over at you with a half glare on his face, "I nearly had a heart attack trying to ask you that and you're laughing?"

"Well, yeah. I was expecting something worse, to be honest," Before the laugh you were holding it in escaped your lips, a spurt of paint landed on your stomach. A small gasp left your lips, grabbing the nearest paint bottle and aiming straight at Suguru. "Not the h-"

"Yeah, yeah, not the hair," you finished for him, covering a majority of his chest and neck in green paint. You weren't sure who even ended up winning the fight between the two of you, the two of you nearly covered from head to toe in several layers of drying paint. "Ready to admit defeat?" You prodded with a teasing smile on your face, hovering just above him.

A teasing smile that was wiped from your face within a span of what seemed to be two seconds. "I thought you were the one about to admit defeat."

Suguru rested above you, his hair tickling the sensitive skin of your neck when he lowered himself down to press sloppy kisses in whatever spots he could reach. In whatever spots he could leave a hickey only for his eyes to see. His teeth nibbled at your collarbone, his lips enclosing around the skin and sucking. Treating you like his very own canvas, painting your skin in a mix of small bites and his teeth marks.

"Get on top of me, pretty girl," Suguru's hair splayed out against the canvas, the golden hue of the sunset hitting him perfectly from the window when he laid down. You were about to sit down on his lap when he cleared his throat, "Not like that. Turn around for me."

"Su-Suguru," your breath hitched when you felt his teeth bite down onto your inner thigh just as you barely adjusted, his lips wrapping around the supple skin to leave a mark on you with something other than paint. Suguru kissed his way up to your clit, giving it a chaste kiss before moving back to your inner thigh. Repeating the process until a soft groan left your lips, your hips wiggling back against his mouth.

"Doesn't this defeat the purpose of the paint all over us?" Your words came out in a breathy whisper, suddenly becoming hyperaware of the drying paint on your skin. Suguru squirted some of the paint onto his hand, bringing his hand to your ass cheek. Squeezing the flesh in between his fingers, a sharp SMACK following. Leaving a yellow handprint behind.

"Are you complaining, princess?" Suguru asked in a taunt, the tip of his tongue tracing against your folds, "Plus, we're mixing the colors together. Variety and all."

Couldn't really argue with that logic. Not that you'd even begin wanting to argue—the tip of his sharp tongue rolling against your throbbing clit.

Suguru's lips enclosed around one of your slick folds, his eyes shut in bliss as he gave it the sloppiest French kiss that you'd seen in your life. "So good, wanna stay like this forever," Just one taste of you had the man intoxicated. Suguru spat up into your cunt, his tongue mixing it in with your slick.

"Wanna fucking drown in your pussy, lemme do that. Please, please," incoherent babbles spilled from his lips, begging for.. you weren't even sure what. "Sugu, don't stop," your moans only encouraged him, your nails digging into his thighs when he pushed a thick digit inside of you. Slowly pushing it in and out of you, his tongue swirling around your clit just as slow. "F-Faster, baby. Please."

The baby was almost enough to get the last bit of his remaining composure to crumble—another one of those sweet whines escaping his lips. Even so, he was determined to tease you, "You sure you can take it?"

"Y-Yes, yes, fuck yes, faster," you felt like a bobblehead with the way you were nodding. Suguru's finger curled inside of you, hitting your g-spot when he pulled it out of you. "Since you were nice about it," Suguru's lips wrapped around your cunt, his tongue swirling against the nerves while another finger pushed inside of you. He moved the two in a scissoring motion, working your walls open slowly.

Your thumb and pointer wrapped around the tip of his cock, your other paint stained hand wrapping around the base. Just the slightest bit of contact and Suguru was already bucking his hips into your hand, a groan leaving his glistening lips. "Please, need you," he babbled, pulling away from your sensitive cunt. You simply traced one of the veins on the side with your fingertip, your touch featherlight.

"What do you mean? You have me, with my hand wrapped around your cock. Be more specific," you executed the clueless act almost perfectly, a borderline whine leaving Suguru's lips. From desperation. From need. From how much he was starting to like when you teased him like this. "Need your mouth on me, pretty. Your teasing's too much."

"Your fault for making it so easy," you drawled out, your tongue darting out. Tasting the precum that leaked out his reddening tip. Your thumb swiped against his cockhead, smearing the mixture of his pre and your spit around it like makeshift lube.

"F-Fuck, just like that," Suguru let out a groan into your cunt, the vibrations shooting up all the way up your spine. You slowly began bobbing your head, your cheeks hollowing out as you tried to take more of his thick cock in your mouth. Drool leaked from the corners of your lips, some of the paint that managed to get onto your chin dripping onto the paper underneath. "Lemme fuck your face, princess. Please, please."

"Just. Like. That," his words were punctuated with his hips snapping up into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. You were left a gagging mess, your eyes starting to water from the sting. If Suguru could see you, you were certain he'd make some stupid comment about how good you look.

And almost as if he'd read your thoughts, "B-Bet you look so pretty gagging. So so pretty taking my cock."

"And I bet you'd look better with your mouth on my pussy instead of teasing," you clicked your tongue, your lips wrapping around the sides of his cock. Slowly rubbing them against his shaft, your hand going down to his balls.

Suguru had been putty in your hands long ago—but the feeling of your hand on his balls only reaffirmed that fact. Your fingers gently rolled against his sac, each of your movements completely in tandem with your mouth. Almost like a synchronized dance. "S-shit, pretty," Suguru's moans were muffled, his nose deep inside of your cunt.

Suguru's balls started to grow heavy underneath your fingertips, strained gasps coming out of him. "S-Stop," you pulled away when you heard Suguru's words, your brows pulling together.

"You okay? We can stop if you want," you assured him, moving to get off him. His grip on your hips tightened, keeping you still against him. Suguru didn't move from his spot, his head laying back against the paper in some attempt to catch his breath.

"No, no, nothing like that," Suguru let out a shaky laugh, his words making relief crash over your body like a wave. "Just- You almost made me cum."

"Is that a bad thing?" While your words were innocent, you looked anything but. Looking at you was akin to looking at a succubus incarnate. A succubus that Suguru wouldn't necessarily mind submitting to if it came down to it.

"No. Just wanna do it inside of you instead."

"A true poet. You should consider that as a career," a short laugh left your lips. The sound turning into a moan when Suguru smacked your ass again—this time with red paint. The previous yellow on his hand mixed in, leaving an orangey red tint behind. "And you should consider being a comedian."

Suguru shifted the two of you, having you underneath him yet again. His hand wrapped around his cock, pressing it against your cunt and swiping his shaft up and down your folds. He looked over at you—seeing the way you bit down on your lip to keep yourself quiet. Not that it'd mattered, your pussy couldn't exactly lie the same way that you could.

Your walls clenched around pure air—your dripping pussy coating his shaft with each and every swipe. One of his hands moved to cradle your cheek, tenderly. He moved his thumb to where leftover tears remained, wiping them away with one shift motion. The action was meant to be sweet, loving—and yet it was completely betrayed by the shit-eating grin on his face.

Suguru was completely shameless in sticking his thumb in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while he licked away your salty tears. All the while he maintained eye contact with you.

"O-Oh fuck!" Suguru reveled in the sharp gasp that left your lips when he pushed the tip of his cock inside of you, your mouth left agape. He leaned down, pressing his lips against your own. Unlike the other kisses, this one was more desperate. More needy. His teeth clashed against your own, your tongue moving against his own messily. Just needing to have him close to you.

"There we go, that's it," Suguru purred in your ear, studying each one of your reactions. Watching as you squirmed the further that he pushed his cock inside you. He stilled his movements, your walls tightly clenched around his cock. Even if he wanted to move, he couldn't.

"Take it so well, you were meant for me. All of you," Suguru's lips moved down to your breast, his paint-covered hands staining the skin even further. His tongue swirled around your nipple, the tip prodding against the hardening buds. "Could never get enough of you. Never want to get enough of you," his babbles served to distract you from the slight sting between your thighs, your hand intertwining in his hair. Getting paint on it despite your previous promise.

"You can move," you assured him, his hips snapping into you almost immediately. Suguru's head hung low, already getting lost in your cunt one thrust in. "So good, so perfect," He panted, his thrusts starting off slow and shallow. Getting you more and more comfortable with each one. One of his hands reached out to grab your own, calloused fingers intertwining with your own. He brought your hand to his mouth, gently pressing a kiss.

Suguru's thrusts began to grow faster—meaner. "S-So deep, Sugu," you breathed out, your nails digging into the back of his hand. "Yeah? You can take it, though. Can't you?" He repeated the same words from earlier back to you, watching your eyes glaze over with lust. Rolling back with each punishing thrust. The sound of skin against skin resounded throughout the room, paint splashing against each other.

"Take it so well, knew you could," Suguru disentangled his fingers from your own, moving his hand towards your clit. He slowly began rubbing circles against the bud, your legs starting to quiver from the overwhelming stimulation. It felt like too much, it didn't feel like it was enough. You didn't know what to ask for. "Please," you managed to get out, your hips bucking up to meet his thrusts.

"I know, I know. I got you," and even though the ask didn't seem that coherent to you, Suguru seemed to have gotten it immediately. His fingertips sped their pace up on your clit, your walls clenching around him. Your toes curled against the paper, that all too familiar coil building up in your lower tummy. "Close, close," you chanted like a mantra. Suguru's fingers continued, pushing you towards your orgasm.

Your walls clenched around his shaft, your orgasm hitting you like a wave when you unclenched. Your release covered his shaft, your folds, and some of it managed to drip down to the canvas. Messing up the messy artwork even further. Suguru pulled his fingers away from your clit, bringing them up to his lips with your slick glistening against his digits.

And just like he'd done with your tears, Suguru completely licked his fingers clean. "Fuckkk, you're so good to me," he groaned out, the taste of you immediately infiltrating his taste buds. The only thing left when Suguru pulled his fingers out was his own spit.

"Come on, get the canvas all nice and covered," Suguru helped you get on your stomach, your back arched and your ass up in the air. Your pussy still wet from your previous orgasm. You rested your elbows onto the paper below you, supporting your weight while Suguru smacked your ass with the tip of his dick. "Got so lucky with you," He mused out loud, sounding completely entranced.

Suguru pushed his cock inside of you, filling you up inch after inch. "That's my little Picasso," he teased, watching you put some more paint onto your hands. His hands gripped your hips, his cock pushing deeper inside of you from this angle. The ridges on his shaft brushing up against your g-spot, brushing up against every right spot. All you could feel was him, him, him.

Your fingers laid across the paper, tainting the white paper below you in a mixture of colors. Drip. Drip. Drip. You weren't sure if that was the paint or your pussy at this point. Probably both. "F-Fuck Suguru, don't stop," you moan out, your cheek resting against the paper underneath. Suguru's grip on your hips tightened, his thrusts growing sloppier and sloppier by the second.

"N-Not gonna stop until my cum's dripping out of you," Suguru practically whined, completely and utterly pussy-drunk. Your walls clenched involuntarily, something Suguru couldn't have missed even if he wanted to. "Tightened up so fucking much. That's exactly what you want, my cum filling you up?"

"Mhm, please. Fill me up," your whines sounded like a melody in his ears, a melody that he'd never grow tired of. Your tight cunt was milking his cock for everything it had, gripping around him tightly like a vice. Suguru's balls twacked against your cunt with each mean thrust, each thrust sloppier than the last. Like he just needed to be inside you—no matter how.

Ropes and ropes of cum painted your cunt white as he came, his breathing ragged. You felt so full. It was so much cum—the sticky substance dripping down your thighs. Suguru's mouth instantly went to your pussy, licking away his cum that dribbled down your folds. Pushing the remainder in with his fingers before allowing himself to lay down next to you.

The two of you laid still on the canvas with dry paint coating the two of you from your cheeks to your other set of cheeks. You'd ended up splattering more paint on each other than on the paper below you. The sun outside had set, leaving only the sound of cicadas outside and moonlight filtering in through the window. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you albeit for the sound of your quick breaths.

Suguru had been to copious amounts of art showings and galleries throughout the course of his career—seen all different kinds of things. Sculptures, oil paintings, photographs, etc. Some of them taking him a second glance to try to see the meaning while some were effortless in the way that they presented their beauty. But somehow all those paintings seemed to dim in comparison to you in this moment.

You in all your post orgasm glory—with beads of sweat dribbling down your forehead, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, your inner thighs shaking from the after shocks and covered with his semen. A view that he couldn't begin to replicate even with the world's most expensive paintbrushes, the most expensive canvas.

No matter how many times you told Suguru that a painting he'd done of you was nothing short of extraordinary, he couldn't help but feel as if something was missing. As if he couldn't capture your beauty in all its essence. Whether it be that your nose ended off balance by one half-inch, one of your eyes ended up slightly more crooked than the other. Nothing seemed to really encapsulate what he wanted to portray onto the canvas.

But the work that lay below you almost expressed you in a way that he could only dream of achieving in this lifetime—expressing you in one of the rawest forms possible. In pure bliss and ecstasy. Pure bliss and ecstasy that he'd been responsible for.

Suguru was nothing short of gentle, reverent when he swiped the washcloth across your paint covered skin. Wiping away all the dry pieces that started to flake off. "Nothing short of being the perfect muse," He spoke in a way that made it seem like the words were meant just for your ears. Suguru pressed a kiss on your shoulder, his lips trailing a path down to your back.

"All I did was have sex with you on top of a piece of paper," you responded, turning around to face him. His hands immediately found your waist, pulling you all that much closer to your body until you were chest to chest. "Maybe. But I've never felt this surge of inspiration before. All because of you, beautiful."

Seeing the final piece hanging up on the wall of his studio, you almost couldn't help but think that it was disorganized chaos. That it was just splatters of paint showcasing what the two of you had gotten up to just the night prior. "I know what you're thinking, but y'know how art critics are. Chances are that they'll enjoy this piece more than any of the others I've done," Suguru spoke up, standing next to you as he looked up at the painting.

"Even if they don't, thank you for indulging me. Don't think I could forget about this painting even if I tried," Suguru wrapped his arms around your waist from behind you, resting his head on your shoulder. You leaned back into his touch almost instinctively, staring at the painting for a bit longer. All the nonsensical shapes and splatters on the wall slowly starting to become something beautiful—something made out of love.

And enjoy it they did. Not one day passed by since Suguru submitted the painting to be hung up in several art showings where he didn't get a call with some offer. Each of them going higher and higher, each caller trying to outbid the last. Coming back to him with a bigger and better offer, all for the chance to see the painting the two of you made. Nothing at all like the days of being a starving artist, living off ramen and a dream.

Suguru's career had been built from the generous donations from coffee shops around the Tokyo area that were willing to pay for a couple of his pieces, of maintaining relationships with artists he didn't talk to for more than once in college to gain some kind of connections. It felt bizarre—having people practically want to display his work for the equivalent of a down payment on a house. Not only from the Japan area, but a couple galleries from overseas.

"I'll see you when I get back, okay? I love you," You were barely half awake, barely registering Suguru when he moved to press his lips against your forehead. He'd barely gotten of the shower from what you could tell, wet hair strands tickling your face and the smell of amber cologne filling up your nose.

"Love you too. Fly safe," you mumbled back in response, or at least you'd made the attempt to do so. Hopefully he heard. In a span of mere seconds, you'd pulled the blankets back over your body and went back to sleep.

For the second time that morning, you were woken up from your sleep. Only this time it wasn't the feeling of Suguru's lips against your skin, rather the shrill sound of your phone beside you. A rather rude awakening. You rubbed your eyes, sitting up in bed and clearing your throat in all attempt to make it sound like you didn't wake up two seconds ago. Picking your phone up, you were met with the sight of an unknown number.

You'd grown wary to answering unknown numbers—whether it be from a multitude of spam calls throughout your day or one of Suguru's fans that found your contact information. You couldn't really begin to explain it, but something, something, compelled you to answer the call at the third ring. "Hi, we're calling from Tokyo General Hospital. You were listed as Geto Suguru's emergency contact."

If you weren't awake before, that greeting was enough to wake you up. "That's me. Is everything okay?" You felt goosebumps all over your arms, a bad feeling sinking down into your very bones. The person on the other line kept talking—the words not registering inside of your head just yet. He was supposed to be on a plane, maybe on his layover. Throughout the call, you could only pick up certain words. Accident. Critical condition. Stable for now.

Rushing over to the emergency room in nothing but your pajamas and a pair of bunny slippers. "H-Hi, I got a call," you took a moment to catch your breath, your knuckles gripping the front desk. Forcing yourself to try to calm down somewhat. Trying to inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Despite that every breath only seemed to be wearing you down even further.

"I'm here about Geto Suguru. You just brought him in," you managed to get out, your fingers anxiously tapping against the counter. Every second that the nurse spent typing on the computer felt like a second too long.

"He's currently in emergency surgery. The waiting room's in the fourth floor," the nurse finally spoke up after what seemed to be an eternity. "Thank you," your words came jumbled up in a rush, turning around and speed walking towards the elevator. The stench of antiseptic filled your nostrils as soon as you stepped out into the fourth floor, a grim feeling settled into every crevice of the halls.

The clock on the wall ticked by slowly, marking each second almost painfully. Each second marking someone being brought into the world, someone being taken away from the world. Marking tears of agony, dispair, joy, and relief. Your brain continued to spiral every time a doctor came out of the surgical wing—giving you the briefest glance before going over to talk to someone else.

A wisdom teeth removal without anesthesia would've been a more welcome thought than the unbearable waiting.

Despite his farewell, the next time that you saw Suguru wasn't at the airport after the art show that would make his career skyrocket. With a smile on his face when he looked at you, like you held the universe in the palm of your hand. Like you were the only thing really worth looking at. But instead, you had to settle for seeing him in a hospital bed.

You could practically see the gears turning in Suguru's head in some attempt to recognize just where exactly he knew you from, where he'd seen you before. Almost like one of the statues that were around his studio, you stood completely still. You gave him your name after a nod from the doctor and crossed your fingers in the pocket of your pajama pants, waiting for some kind of sign that he knew you.

That he remembered the hour long conversations between you, the feeling of your skin underneath his own, that he at least knew he loved you. The action was for naught, however. Panic slowly began to settle in Suguru's features, his arms straining against the needles attached. His face was cold, detached, his finger pointing towards the door. "Leave!" even with the breathing tube down his throat, you at least made out the command.

Before Suguru ended up ripping all the different IVs out of his arm, you made your way out of the room. Standing by the door, almost like a puppy who'd just been kicked out to the curb. Looking through the small window, you could see that Suguru was still on high alert. His eyes darted around the room, the two nurses attempting to restrain him starting to visibly struggle.

His shouts bled through the thin walls, "Leave! Leave!" Until the room went completely silent in a span of seconds, his panicked breathing starting to even out on the monitor. "You're free to come at another time," the doctor offered a sheepish smile, handing over a guide. How to deal with a family member with amnesia. The smiles on the front page only served to mock you even further.

You opened up the door to his side of the closet when you got home, the silence of the room almost overwhelming. It was never this quiet. You'd grown used to hearing Suguru's footsteps echo in his office while he paced around—convincing you that it got the ideas flowing (spoiler alert: it rarely did). The scent of his body wash and cologne covered the room like a thick blanket from his shower this morning.

Looking around the vast space, you could see a couple of his shirts with the color faded out with years and years of use, of wash, and of love. And with that, you noticed a couple shirts hanging up with the tags still attached to them. Shirts that he'd probably been intending to wear for future art showings. Would he even dress the same? Smell the same? The uncertainty chipped away at your composure, leaving you gripping one of his old band tees at the back of his closet.

You sprayed his cologne first thing in the morning throughout the following week, something that you could hold onto for the time being. The thought of packing up his clothes was one that persisted the longer you kept staring at the untouched articles, yet you couldn't bring yourself to do it. Every time you set out with a box on the floor—you couldn't muster to even get his shirts off the hangers.

It felt wrong, in a sense. To almost be mourning him despite that he was well in the hospital. Doing better than expected, even. You couldn't help but feel like you've lost him completely, though. That Suguru Geto was completely gone after that accident. You recognized his body, the one who'd held your own during cold nights. But you weren't sure who he was, not like you used to. You didn't know who he was going to become.

You willed yourself to keep the same enthusiasm as the doctors had been trying to instill, deciding to pack a couple of his essentials in a bag before visiting him. If he was anything like the Suguru you knew, he was probably desperate to wash his hair with something other than cheap travel sized shampoo.

After days and days of avoidance, Suguru finally stood in front of the mirror and looked into it. At first, all he could see was just how weak he looked. How sickly pale he looked against the bright fluorescent lights, how sunken his cheekbones were, how tired he looked. Even if he didn't know who he was supposed to be—the sight was anything but welcome.

And then Suguru looked at the mirror. Really looked into it. Desperately seeking for some kind of hint of the person that people were expecting him to be. The one he'd seen various art critics write about in overlooked magazines that were around the hospital lobby. Only to come up completely and totally empty. With not one single recollection of what happened before the car accident.

Staring at himself in the mirror was like staring at a hollow shell of himself—a corpse with his face, his body, his hair, his voice, that held no memory of the person that he was used to be. A body without a brain. Who and what was he supposed to be acting like? As much as Suguru stared at himself in the mirror, he couldn't find the answer that he so desperately craved.

The canvas and paint set that you'd left behind nearly a week ago remained untouched in the hospital bed stand, still in their original package. Suguru reluctantly pulled it out, setting it down on his lap. "Stupid thing," he muttered to himself, prying open the plastic and looking over at the palette of colors. After facing the same four grey walls of the hospital room, he found himself staring at them for more than necessary.

But even while Suguru held the paintbrush in his hand, the thought that he was even doing that wrong lingered in the back of his brain like a plague. Every line that was sprawled onto the canvas felt like a mistake, the smallest divergence in between the two points almost made him throw out the canvas out the damn hospital window and never paint again. Everything that he was supposed to be, he simply was not.

A deep breath left his lips, forcing himself to calm down before he went through another spiral in less than ten minutes. Suguru's grip on the paintbrush was unsteady, unpracticed, each of his strokes either coming out too wet or too dry. Lighter colors were starting to mix with the darker colors, turning into a shade of mud brown. And yet, this was the calmest he's felt in a while. The calmest without any sedatives, anyways.

The painting didn't come out to be anything significant—anything that he deemed worth putting into an art museum. But the process of making his splotch of colors was an escape from trying to force himself to be someone he wasn't sure he could ever return to. The one time he didn't feel like he was disappointing someone since waking up. The short moment of bliss was broken when Suguru heard the door knob jiggle, his eyes darting around the room.

Looking for any place where he could hide the canvas. Anyplace where the poor excuse of his work couldn't be found—where he wouldn't get someone's hopes up. Opening up the drawer next to him, he decided that was a decent enough hiding spot. Suguru turned the canvas to face down, the paint smearing down onto the scratched wood when he placed it down. Completely ruining the worthless piece.

"You can come in," Suguru called out, watching as you came in with the grocery bag in tow. Looking at you was nothing less than looking at another stranger—nothing different than one of the nurses who came in to poke more needles into his arm.

"Hey Suguru," you popped your head in through the door, almost expecting for him to have that sudden moment like they did in telenovelas. That just one look, one kiss, one touch would bring back the man that you loved. Waiting for a moment that didn't come no matter how much or how many times you wished for it. He gave a nod, simply just acknowledging your presence.

Everyday that Suguru didn't recognize you just felt like one more stab to your bleeding heart. You could see the way that he slightly inched away from you whenever you got too close. Conversations didn't flow the way they used to—you'd learn to measure your words so you wouldn't upset him. To only ask about how he was feeling, what he ate for lunch even if the nurse gave you the report earlier.

"Can you tell me some things about me?" Suguru broke the silence after you'd taken a seat, his attention solely on you. How would you even begin to address that can of worms? What even was the best way to begin describing him without sounding like a romance novel?

"As I'm sure you're probably aware by now, you were an artist. You were dedicated, not just in that, but in everything that you did," you started off, your fingers tapping against the side of your leg. "Your perspective on the world was interesting, a bit nihilistic though."

"You keep saying were. You don't have the same hopes as the doctors?" Suguru asked almost immediately after you finished speaking. Leaving you completely and utterly speechless. You refused to look over at him, staring at the floor with a newfound interest. Without saying anything, you essentially confirmed the question that lingered in the air.

"Can I see some of the works, then?" Suguru tried his luck with that question next. The tension disappeared from your body almost immediately, a breath leaving your lips. "You're free to look around at a couple of the pictures on there," you handed your phone over. Most of them were just off-guards you'd captured when he was sleeping or cooking, really. A couple of his works thrown in between.

Suguru scrolled through your phone for a bit, bringing one specific work to your attention. The last work the two of you had made before he landed in a hospital bed. "Looks like a bunch of paint thrown on there. What made me do that?" The same piece that he swore to never forget was the same one he was criticizing now.

"You made that piece with me," you had to will yourself to blink back a couple tears that were threatening to spill, keeping your voice steady. "I guess you can just call it a product of love. We basically just covered ourselves in paint and had sex on the canvas." The explanation definitely sounded better in your head. Suguru simply looked at you with his mouth slightly agape, probably trying to figure out how.

"Was.. that comfortable?" A tamer question than you'd been expecting.

"As comfortable as the floor can get. It was messy in the end.. but it was pretty fun," you willed your voice to remain steady as you spoke, only to have the smallest of cracks at the end. You'd never expected the painting you once thought of as nothing but a splatter of paint would be making you this sentimental. Suguru had more questions, if his expression was anything to go by.

But you didn't get the chance to elaborate more on the painting when the door hinges creaked, the door swinging wide open.

"Oh good, you're here," the doctor you'd seen on your first night here greeted you, a clipboard resting on his arm, "So, we have the latest results from Geto's scan and they show no improvement. While he does seem to be recovering without any problems, chances are that the damage can be permanent." The rest of the doctor's words dimmed down into a ringing noise in the background.

You forced yourself to nod along when you deemed fitting—forced yourself to pretend like your hopes weren't just killed within two minutes. "Well, let me know if you have any questions," the doctor finished up, looking between the two of you. "Nothing here," you responded, glancing over at Suguru. When the doctor received nothing in response, he simply nodded and left the room.

Thick silence weighed in the room—the realization that Suguru would never get back to who he was, to what he enjoyed doing, slowly starting to settle in.

Just a week ago, Suguru was scheduled to go to the biggest art show of his career and now he was looking up at you like you held all the answers in the world. And maybe, in his opinion, you did. The only guide that he had through the unknown. Tears of sheer desperation dribbled down his red stricken eyes, tainting his pale cheeks as he babbled, "I don't know how to be who you want and need me to be. I'm sorry."

229 notes · View notes

eraserbread · 6 days ago

Text

u are suguru's best friend with benefits, and u ruined anime night... ✧ ୨୧ - check out part one

→ afab!reader, est "relationship", fingering, pillow talk, nsfw

you're shivering, crying around soiled cotton and hooked on your friends fingers. he's had you like this since last episode, thick thumb kissing over your swollen clit every few seconds if you're lucky.

the scene on the screen breaks, a mindless little chibi insertion giving suguru just enough time to lean down and kiss your neck. he suckles at the skin like he's trying to mark you, right there where your shirt won't cover. he'd be impossible to hide.

"truly the most beautiful girl i've ever seen..." he whispers into your skin, tongue hot as he licks over the expanse, tasting your needy sweat. "always obedient—dripping wet whenever I walk into the room."

"mfhfh—eughh."

"yeah?" he whispers, lifting his head just enough to catch your gaze. he's exhausted, you can tell. it's as if his skin loses it's sheen once nighttime hits. in any case, he's glimmering and godly. "even with a stuffed mouth, you just can't stop." he's speaking over a soft, seductive chuckle, tv light reflecting the hollows in his cheeks as he kisses your skin again.

but, he's trying to illicit sound out of you. if he wasn't, he wouldn't be curling his fingers in that slight upward slant. he wouldn't be telling you everything you wanted to hear—kissing you like you're made of glass.

"baby gonna cum?" he gasps like he's surprised. your thighs are shaking, eyes fluttering as the tip of his thumb scratches and pokes at your messy cunt like he's trying to pull something out.

you're nodding without much thought, tossing your head back onto the mess of pillows and arching your back. it's so intense in a way only sugu can achieve. he leans over for the remote, pausing the anime before returning to you. his two fingers are crooked cruelly, scrubbing against your sensitive, silky walls as he fucks you.

it's painful just how close you are—just how much you want to rip these underwear out of your mouth and scream his name until the neighbors complain. you're fisting at the sheets under you, lungs tightening in your chest, begging for anything.

you can't get air, you can't see anything but him.

and like the snap of a taut rubber band, you're convulsing and cumming all over his fingers. not even making a sound. thoughtful to the core, sugu is leaning down, lips hovering over your forehead as he coaxes the aftershocks down, whispering against your skin, "beautiful, so beautiful... c'mon, I want to hear it."

"mmh!"

"fuck it." he grunts, fingers warming inside of you as he yanks the useless cotton gag from between your lips. you're immediately scrambling, jelly-like hands flying up for purchase somewhere on his sticky skin.

"oh, m— my god, i need you so bad." when suguru pulls out, you're surprisingly cold and empty, stretched cunt fluttering pathetically around nothing. your skin is flushed and sticky, eyelids glued shut from sticky tears.

and you're so elated, because suguru is crawling on top of you, closing both of your naked thighs in his strong grip. you know what you're getting—you're so spoiled rotten, your best friend knows exactly how to treat you.

so when he's pulling the thickness of his cock free, all worked up in the face with a tight chest, you're trying to find breath you're sure you won't be able to chase again.

because it's been hundreds of times of this same exact view–sugu's bedroom, midnight, blue tv light casting the prettiest shadow of him over the white walls. the anime is forgotten, now, droning on and on invisibly as he slips inside, whispering how much he loves the way your warm cunt twitches around him like it's familiar.

and it is, it's too familiar.

and that's the issue.

#come downstairs u guys dinner is ready!!#this is for the one (1) singular person who asked #i've been so locked in on long fics i sorryyyyy #.fwb <3 #.my sugu <3 #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #jjk geto #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru x reader #geto suguru smut

376 notes · View notes

6ixtoru · 3 days ago

Text

18+, mdni! artwork @ MUNAKATA_N

ᯓ★ CLAN LEADER! SUGURU who’d realised that perhaps dictating and eradicating humanity to his liking may not have been his ultimate end goal. After all, it was two citizens out of the herd who’d delivered the divine craftsmanship better known as his wife.

Following a rather hectic day, the finale included his lover caged beneath his heaving, burly figure after a session of torrid intercourse dwindling to intimate devotion.

It was leaning towards extremely late, the sphere responsible for Icarus’ tragedy having traded with its lunar counterpart. Buoyant indigo had affectionately suffocated apricot gradients long ago; the dramatic hue was more than prepared to disperse its presence across the nation, persuading cheeky glints to accompany and beautify its empty canopy, which had diffused entirely the prior traces of daytime.

Her gentle touch caressed his fair complexion, bared from his tasteful, monk-resembling outfit threaded with ornate patterns, strewn off to one side, his sumptuous appearance unravelling in sync with Tokyo’s clockwork – hours elapsing as he promulgated his objectives and widened the number of his enthusiasts.

ᯓ★ CLAN LEADER! SUGURU would have once thought it was simply pathetic to dismantle his core beliefs for any reason, especially for sickly romance with a citizen wielding an increment of sorcery and unbothered to partake in jujutsu’s purpose to serve a population he referred to as the same animal some believed they’d evolved from.

“Missed you…” He mumbled a deflated admission, his slender sight obscured by escaped wisps from his noir mane, briefly parting from her pupils, which were deluged with affection and prepared to remedy his fatigue with her personality, resembling a paradisiacal destination.

The declaration itself almost passed unnoticed had it not been euphonious to the ear. Her trembling fingers successfully sought purchase around his jaw, caressing the defined bone structure, a silent confession that she yearned beyond consuming just his physicality but rather his entire being, ardent convictions and all.

She prettily whimpered, wordlessly pleading for another finger to pledge its allegiance to her heavenly body as his index finger had been expertly pummelling her sensitive walls.

Suguru acknowledged the cruelty of his gesture, his thick middle finger prodded at her entrance, barely tipping into the hole that clenched in excitement at the possibility of leeching onto more leverage – but the man intentionally disregarded the concept of mercy concerning sexual pleasure, as of now anyway.

On the other hand, Y/n bucked her hips at the modest dip into the heated opening, unsuccessful in reigning another finger in.

He leaned his head further down whilst simpering at her desperation, witnessing greed merge to insanity before using a rough force to annex her wriggling hips to the mattress once more, the plush area adorned with a stampede of brutal fingerprints after visiting deific landmarks across her form.

ᯓ★ CLAN LEADER! SUGURU savoured the entrancing embodiment of purity sprawled beneath him, flushed with innocent femininity as beguiling roses pricked beneath her clammy flesh to convey a subtle dust of rouge on top whilst she lightly panted. The combination of their perspiration, drenching their entangled figures, strengthened the notion of them being one unit, a team.

His hooded eyes, eclipsed with compulsive lechery, momentarily glanced at the floor decorated with his opulent robe. The hefty fabric, symbolic of leadership, was paired with her dainty panties featuring picot trim and a satin bow carelessly tossed atop. He was unable to refrain from savouring the stark contrast between the garments that imitated their dynamic immaculately.

“Please…” She began, her defined brows furrowed as the relentlessness of his mischievous digit stilled, and pulled out except the tip, the tallest visitor still yet to implore further beyond the fleshy partition.

“Please, what?” He teasingly quizzed, innocence feigned yet conscious of her covet for a particular one of his additions.

“Please, Sugu,” She briefly paused as he permitted a few millimetres of his index finger to slip back in, the petty invasion more than enough to warrant an aching supplication. “Add another, God, please give me more.”.

Her smooth palms, warm and reassuring, resided atop his broad shoulders. An attempt on her behalf to steady her whines as his index and middle finger succumbed by deeply occupying her pulsating cunt, her swollen clit’s complaint of desertion rectified with erratic swirls courtesy of his rough thumb.

“You ask so nicely,” He murmured as she inhaled his cologne, weakened by the day’s timestamps but strengthened by the enticing musk of having seized his carnal yearn; his aroma integrated far beneath her muscled casing and disrupting the flow within her interior, all fundamental units of her body, each passing cell organised by speciality, was stamped with an eternal smidgen of his existence that no type of intervention could retrieve it.

She basked in his claim over her, the diabolic sounds he was able to bring forth when in tune with her; his confidence and pride in attaining knowledge about such pried her gaze away out of shyness. Suguru, however, refused, forcing her attention back onto him, more specifically on his ministrations.

“Don’t look away when you asked for this,” He scolded, though without bite, smirk fuelled by zealous intent as she slightly spasmed when he began the classic scissoring motion, an action that never fulfilled her quest unless committed by him.

ᯓ★ CLAN LEADER! SUGURU momentarily stilled whilst evaluating his upcoming words, slowly permitting his forehead to lay against hers, involuntarily forcing her to strain up slightly to truly register his expression.

"I’ve forgiven humanity,” He breathed, thumbing over her chin as thin lips ghosted over hers that had been twitching, overall facial expression scrunching at the general intensity behind his customised devotion towards their love.

Her head is thrown back, rustling her own tresses not only at his confession but the particular curl of his fingers teasingly brushing a spot he’d memorised as a goldmine, more fervour added, continuing to prod that specific spot.

A weightless moan failed to permeate and relieve the budding tension cramming her joints, the vacancy in her lungs having spoken more than vocabulary itself.

His inky irises fixated on the column supporting her winsome visage, currently struck with fluster following his vulnerable but earnest revelation. Fixated on sloppily smooching pre-engraved blemishes of blossomed violet until reaching her collarbone, he scarcely towed his tongue into the pit between both probing bones as if he were delving into a sacred whirlpool arcing with boundless lust.

She drew him up to her intrigued eyes once more, parting his mouth from her dewy skin.

Sincerity coerced her plush lips upwards before struggling to muse a soft “Is that so?”.

Suguru would have never entertained the possibility, convinced that his true calling was to act on behalf of God, to be the right-hand assistant and aide of an entity beloved by many, although responsible for crafting the exact useless specimens he’d grown to detest - until now.

“Why the sudden toleration of them?” Not that she, his love, the woman who had decided with ease to advocate for his controversial notions, wasn’t convinced - but the alternation in attitudes so suddenly?

Suguru tutted, “Not toleration, Love,” he nudged his sharp nose against her sweaty temple, enunciating the final word of his elongated reminder with prominence - thick pads continuously swabbing against that spot, which minimised the distance to her undoing. “Forgiveness.”

Her sopping cunt served multiple purposes – tonight being a habitat meant for atonement, whereby the intrusion of his fingers carved with nanoscopic paths purged with fiendish slaughter was relieved of such corruptness when knuckles deep.

When he calculatedly applied extra pressure to the swollen bud, she keened, instantly arching upwards, her round breasts with perked nipples encapsulated with dried saliva, faintly mushed against his own splotchy chest.

Silk pillows beneath her head persuade her tipped head to relish in the luxury supporting her skull, the satin against her tousled hair, running away from the new sensory awakening as the suffocating coil blurred her sight yet desperate for more it; curled toes roughly dragging at the fitted sheet, barely clinging to the temporary cotton humps produced by the action.

“Okay - f-fuck m’ so close,” She pouted, and he soothed her down with a faint peck to her jugular, speed quickening whilst his pace of words contradicted his body, sensual expressions consistent of mellow encouragement greeted with an erotic cry regarding the arrival of her release alerting him as if triggering clench and lacy web globing his digits wasn’t telling which he shamelessly admired with genuine adore afterwards – sticky fluid a refresher for his parched tastebuds, no more a cavern of drought when the delicacy was suckled off his fingers and leisurely enjoyed by his curled tongue.

“So good, sweetheart, you did so well and all for me.” He appeared somewhat bashful.

Suguru uttered vulgarities far too crude to publicise under the incandesce audience currently catering to the other half of the globe’s domain, but romantic and poetry-esque when ushering her to a sensual demise, endeared the silver observant’s sultry liquification mimicking lingerie when reflective onto her peeking skin not blockaded by Geto’s burly figure above.

Her breathing staggered, lack of chatter due to balancing the aftermath and dawned realisation of exposed vulnerability, which coaxed her to tug him flush to her chest.

“Don’t be shy again.” He cooed, to which she sheepishly looked away before finally regaining a sense of his prior comments.

“Forgiveness, hm?” She suddenly but lightly voiced with a silvery chuckle, tracing a mere line of her feathery touch atop the sharp bridge of his nose.

Genuine forgiveness, a trait acknowledged by God as only attainable by true believers, living with the reassurance that the earth’s current status of lethargic collapse into dystopia was not its final destination, but rather a better one awaited after.

ᯓ★ CLAN LEADER! SUGURU was a man who believed he had been entwined with strings related to the owner of all universes and beyond; thus, forgiveness being pre-manufactured in his heart was a given, as well as benevolence and so on – without those basic yet necessary traits he was practically on the same level as those who viewed him higher than themselves, a man perched atop the catastrophe known as lost humanity.

He examined her facial expression, indulging in the warmth and comfort her bewitching features offered before vocalising such. Letting those he deemed burdensome for sorcerers absorb his attention when his doting wife was right in front of him...how foolish of a move for a man of his calibre.

His motives were still intact, as was his conceptualisation of residents' lacklustre of cursed energy. But, the division of his priorities should not have been equal; the compartment dedicated to the woman, nothing less than benevolent and sympathetic to his cause, should have been heeded miles ahead of anything else.

“I’ve forgiven humanity,” he restated, and a breathless chuckle followed.

“Out of my love for you.”.

a/n: its been a while, gon try take advantage of the free time i have <3

170 notes · View notes

kunareads · 2 days ago

Text

brat | BONUS

Vogue — Inside YN’s Balenciaga Le Cagole

prev / next series masterlist / full masterlist

a/n: thinking about her today <3 references: Vogue In The Bag | Balenciaga Le Cagole

WHAT’S IN YN’S BAG?

There are archive pieces—and then there’s YN’s Le Cagole: not just an accessory, but the original prototype of what would become one of the most recognizable It Girl bags in circulation. It doesn’t trend seasonally; it trends when she does.

Rumored to have been stolen at Berghain, recovered at Primavera, and re-gifted by Suguru Geto himself, the bag hangs off her shoulder like a weapon. Studded, sentient, and slightly cursed.

“I only carry what I need,” she says, pulling out a rhinestoned Altoids tin, a hard drive labeled DO NOT OPEN, and a pair of panties.

After three reschedules and two location mix-ups, Vogue was granted rare access to the rest of the icon’s arsenal.

Canon Powershot (Silver)

Sticker-covered and dented. Filled with blurry candids taken by Suguru Geto in dressing rooms, clubs, and backseats. Three photos where they’re both in frame, and forty-four of YN not looking at the camera.

Wired Headphones

“They sound better. And I always lose an AirPod.”

Hard Drive (labeled DO NOT OPEN)

“I don’t think Suguru knows I have this.” Demos, stems, voice memos, and one file ominously titled toru_verse_FINAL???

One AirPod (No case)

Left ear. She can’t change the stereo settings, and the volume is stuck at 70%. She doesn’t know where the right one is.

Two pairs of sunglasses

One belongs to her, the other to fellow pop icon Satoru Gojo himself.

Pack of Cigarettes

“I only smoke these when I’m drinking. Or when I’m pissed.”

Beaded Bracelet — CULTYN

Gift from a thirteen-year-old fan in Paris. Geto has one too. Uneven letters, rainbow beads, frayed threads. She wears it to perform.

Small Notebook and Pen

Lyrics. Grocery lists. Set lists. Several pages of venting. Doodles: flowers, clouds, random lines. Note from Geto: DRINK WATER.

Three Lip Glosses

Pat McGrath Lust: Astral Moon Flower Dior Addict Lip Maximizer: Mahogany Fenty Beauty Gloss Bomb Stix: Sp'Ice Cold

Decorated Altoids Tin

Rhinestoned. A sticker of Geto’s face on the lid. She won’t say what’s inside (it’s drugs).

Photo Strip

From that rumor-filled night out. → Frame one: YN’s tongue out → Frame two: Suguru Geto flipping off the camera → Frame three: Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto kissing YN’s cheeks while she squeezes her eyes shut and smiles wide

Panties

Clean, black, lacy. “Just in case.”

Cosmetic Pouch (Clear vinyl, glitter trim)

Nail glue Lip balm Lash glue Eyeliner (not waterproof) Eye drops Barbie bandaids (limited edition)

118 notes · View notes

mianaissante · 5 days ago

Text

roommate bassist geto! is the kind of guy you purposefully avoided, yet now you're stuck with him in this small dorm with no separate rooms and only a bathroom with a door for privacy.

roommate bassist geto! doesn't mind being sharing a room with you, in fact, he doesn't care at all. as long as he has a roof and a place to practice his bass, he's all set.

roommate bassist geto! thought he'd get along with you, but as it turns out, you were a very pretentious and high maintenance girl. everything he did pissed you off, and everything you did pissed him off. but there was one thing he wasn't denying, and it was the fact that there was tension building up between you both.

roommate bassist geto! was taken aback by how there was only one bed in the dorm, for as long as you both knew, the dorm was supposed to have two beds. fortunately, it was a california king and all there was to do was to share it with you.

roommate bassist geto! however, did not realize how much torture he'd endure being roommates with you and your innocent teasing.

roommate bassist geto! had his dick fisted up in his hands, pumping slow and steady while the underwear nested between his free hand, the same underwear you asked him to fetch you when you forgot it before you took a shower.

roommate bassist geto! who would constantly stare at your thighs when your shorts would hike further up your body as he slaps his fingers on his bass guitar, casually losing rhythm when you distract him.

roommate bassist geto! who slept with blue balls while you rested comfortably on his hardened cock. grunting frustratedly as your ass shifted and shifted atop his tent.

roommate bassist geto! woke you up when you felt something sharp poking on your lower back. he convinced you to go to sleep but you refused, telling him you wanted to help.

roommate bassist geto! believed you were too Innocent for this and put you back to sleep. and when you did, he dealt with his pulsating cock.

roommate bassist geto! groans in pleasure while pumping his dick with curled hands, sounds of slick slapping and wet lurching filling the room. all of it sounded so lewd that it woke you up feeling wet yourself too.

roommate bassist geto! didn't realize you were awake because he knew you loved shifting in your sleep. however you were beneath the covers clenching your thighs with a hand covering your soft whimpers eliciting such lust eluding from your lips.

roommate bassist geto! was close to cumming, and you were just getting started. with a deep squelch, he realized you were touching yourself too. but he didn't want to ruin the moment. he proceeded to fist himself faster and harder against your ass, the small contact making you squirm.

roommate bassist geto! finishes on you and you contort in your place with fingers jammed in your sopping cunt, falling asleep from your high.

part 1 of roommate bassist geto!

#fanfiction #jjk imagines #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #geto suguru #geto suguru smut #getou suguru x reader #jjk drabble #jjk suguru #jjk x reader smut #smut #Spotify

27 notes · View notes

scarrlet-xiv · 2 days ago

Text

sexual frustration

geto suguru x fem!reader

college au

late night problems consist of you having a hard time getting yourself off and suguru hearing your desperation from the other room.

you sigh together with the soft hum of whatever show you picked to play on your beaten up laptop. it’s already 2 in the morning and you still can’t sleep from the growing frustration that has got you all hot and bothered.

a week from now marks the date that your period will start and at times like this is when your hormones are all jacked up to the highest altitude. your libido spiking through the roof and your mood wavering every now and then. to make matters worse, it’s been a while since you had any sexual encounters with anybody because of the busy schedule you have with your classes.

the way that your slick juices keep dampening your underwear makes you uncomfortable. don’t get it wrong though, you tried at least three times to get yourself off tonight but it never feels enough. no matter how desperately you finger your gummy walls, it only seems to get you wetter each time, not letting you reach your orgasm.

debating whether or not you should try again, you let your frustration get the best of you so you close your laptop and slide it on your nightstand. the only light that was left in your small dorm room is the light from the hallway that’s peeking through the cracks of your door.

adjusting yourself in a more comfortable position, you start to slide your delicate hands past the soft material of your underwear. you gasp, realizing how the wetness of your needy cunt had begun to spread slightly on your thighs.

“fuck” you whimper, circling your clit with a little pressure.

“fuck”

suguru heard, freezing on his comfortable spot on his bed. hearing your muffled moans for the fourth time was what’s stopping him from dozing off at this ungodly hour.

the way your breath hitches whenever you play with your pretty pussy- oh, he could only imagine how you look right now with your hands slipped under your soaked panties, fingers pumping in and out of you as you desperately try to chase your high when he’s just in the other room more than ready to take over for you.

the first time he heard you try to get yourself off was when he just got out of the shower. body was still wet and his towel hung loosely on his toned hips. suguru sat on his bed, about to type a reply for satoru’s text when his ears suddenly picked up small whimpers coming from the thin layer of wood separating your rooms.

suguru wasn’t stupid, he knows that college students fuck around alot in their dorms but hearing his long time crush moan in pleasure kicks slightly at his heart, however he’d be lying if he said that his dick didn’t twitched beneath his towel whenever you let out a filthy mewl.

but as every pleasurable heave you let out grew louder and faster, suguru’s self restraint and morality slowly slipped. he found himself acting like a pervert when he pressed his back onto the wall, trying to hear more of you.

as he leaned the back of his head on the light wall and closed his eyes to try hyphening his senses, suguru noticed that there were no other moans or grunts that seeped through the barrier except yours. heat instantly rushed to his cheeks when he realized that you weren’t having sex.

you were fucking your fingers.

and you’re still doing it now too. with every failed attempt of you chasing your high, suguru succeeds on milking his cock. his dick should’ve been limp by now but your fucking moans work like magic, bringing it back to life as if he didn’t just beat his meat for the fourth time.

you let out one fat whine, making his hips rut into his pillow. if only he has the confidence to barge into your door and slap your fingers away to replace it with his cock but, fuck. he’s always blushing around you whenever you talk to him and it just annoys the shit out of his ego.

because of his lack of confidence, all he can do now is drown out your cries of frustration while he tosses and turns on his bed with a badly beaten cock in his pants, sending a reply to satoru's forgotten text before lulling himself to sleep. gogo jojo:

u up for a party tomo? heard ur crush is gonna be there TEEHEEE read 9:24pm sugudtobetrue: just pick me up sent 2:02am ~ a/n: there will be a part 2 :p

#jjk #jjk x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #geto x reader smut #geto x reader fic #suguru geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #jjk smut #geto suguru #suguru geto #gojo satoru x reader #geto.cc #geto x reader

118 notes · View notes

kingkaizen · 8 days ago

Text

thinkin' about car sex <33

a cute little dinner date taking a sharp turn as you make your way to the backseat, panties on the floor and cunt dripping with need. throwing your legs on the outside of his, lowering yourself carefully onto his cock. it slips in so easy, feeling the way he fills you up as his large hands grip your ass.

you groan into each other's mouths, tongues fighting as you glide up and down in rhythm with his hips. his hands search all over your body, finding its place on your nipples. the squeeze brings a shock of pleasure up your spine, eyesight blurring as the windows fog up all around you.

you can hear people getting into their own cars around you as you try to keep your voice down. the dark tinted windows ensure that you're not being seen all sprawled out, yet the thought that anyone could see the car shaking turns you on all the more. nothing stops his hips from thrusting into you faster, his teeth gently sinking into the skin right above your tits as you feel himself pulsate inside of you.

you're right there with him, entire body shaking with pleasure at the sweet release that you get. you sit there in silence, only the sound of your mangled breaths and the soft humming of the car.

thinkin' about : geto suguru, nanami kento, choso, itoshi sae, + oliver aiku

821 notes · View notes

nanamisbbygirl · 6 days ago

Text

uv index

type: nsfw minors dni

includes: pervy best friend gojo + geto x afab!reader

summary: it was a big mistake to ask for help applying lotion at the beach, especially when you’re with geto suguru and gojo satoru.

cw: threesome, fingering, unprotected p in v, oral sex (m!reciving), cream pies, lots of fondling, public indecency and gooner behaviour lol

a/n: come get your dinner y’all i put my whole pussy into cooking it up.. enjoy!

the beach was perfect this time of year, especially with the way your skin felt as it soaked up the summer sun. you laid on your belly, as you shared the abnormally large towel with your friends, suguru and satoru.

suguru was sitting to your side, staring out at the ocean as satoru reemerged from the water, droplets dripping down his body. he met you both with a pout on his lips.

“are you guys coming in or what?” he was disappointed in the fake he seemed to be the only one enjoying the beach for what it was.

“soon,” you hummed, “let me tan a little longer.” you reached for your beach bag, pulling out some tanning lotion.

“you know that stuff isn’t good for you,” suguru grumbled.

“yeah neither is smoking” you remind him, causing him to scoff a little. although your next question appears to snap them out of their grumpy moods. “can one of you rub this on my back— i can’t reach it myself.”

both boys perked up, fighting over who would go first. suguru held the bottle in his hand, squirting the lotion along your back. they looked down at how suggestive it seemed to be, gulping, he reached forward to touch your skin.

his large hands caressed your back, massaging the tenderness of your flesh. you let out a relaxed sigh, as suguru’s hands made their way down your body.

you felt him stop at your mid back, teasing the hem of your cheeky bikini bottoms, wondering how far he should go. that’s when you felt a second pair of hands— satoru had joined in, apparently itching to have a turn.

he had lathered his hands with the tanning lotion, creeping his way up your legs, his fingers faintly lining your inner thighs.

suguru took initiative, lowering his grasp, making sure to coat every inch of you with the lotion. his fingers slipped under the thin straps that were holding your bathing suit in place, tempted to untie them.

before satoru got the chance to, his friend had claimed his spot hovering over your butt, palms pressing into your perky cheeks. his hands moved carefully in circular motions, being sure to pull at them, allowing him little peeks at your lips — you wanted to tan everywhere, right?

the black haired boy was drooling over you, once again leaving satoru to feel left out. although; he didn’t whine this time, instead leaning towards your ear while his free hand met the spot where your top tied together.

“you might want to take this off— wouldn’t want to get tan lines.” he whispered delicately, as though he wasn’t fulfilling his devious desires. you didn’t have the chance to protest as he undid your top in a blink of an eye. you hugged your breasts, hoping that nothing would slip out.

“we’re in public guys!” you squealed, as both their hands temporarily stopped. suguru and satoru looked around them.

“no one’s around, don’t worry and don’t fuss.” suguru declared, but it still put you on edge. it was hard to think straight with the stimulation they were providing you with.

satoru begins to reach for your breast, hoping that you’ll easily comply with him.

“cmon don’t you want your front side to tan a little, too?” just like that he was able to flip you effortlessly, leaving you to cling to your now ill fitted top.

you get a look at both of them, how they’re glowing in the sunlight, their swim trunks becoming extra tight. you can trace the outlines of their dicks with your eyes, holding your breath at the situation you managed to get yourself into. they both stare back at you, an animalistic urge in their eyes.

suguru splashes the lotion against your stomach then placing some into satoru’s greedy hands. it’s almost too much to take in all at once, you feel yourself wiggling around trying to pick who to focus your attention on first.

satoru rubs his hands together, making the most of the lotion suguru provided him with.

“move your arms, peach.” he laughs with the pet name. he nudges your arms and judging by the look on his face he wasn’t gonna let anything stop him from having his way.

so, you complied with satoru’s demand. you removed your arms, placing them to the side of your head, causing the bikini top to begin to slide up, revealing more of your tits. this made satoru grin.

while all this was happening, suguru was still working away, making sure every part of your body was oiled up, reflecting the sun. his hands carved out your body as if he was a sculpter, rubbing his thumbs against your hips before pressing down on your lower stomach. he continued down, outlining your cunt, carelessly running his hands under your bottoms and groping your soft butt.

he pulled you into him, forcing you to straddle his waist as he rests you on his thighs. you can feel his bulge against your pussy, it’s driving you crazy how close you are but how distant your pleasure seems to be.

you can no longer pay attention to suguru, as you feel your nipples being gently rolled around in satoru’s fingers. he gives them cheeky little pinches before kneading your breast, squishing them with his huge hands.

“fuck you’re so hot,” suguru mutters, grinding up and drown, chasing the friction between the two of you. you whimper as satoru fondles your breasts, flashing his friend a mischievous look.

“she seems pretty desperate doesn’t she?” satoru asks suguru. “as if this wasn’t her plan the whole time. do you think we should give her the attention she wants?” he says this without missing a motion, taking as much of your boobs into his hands as possible. you can tell by the way he licks his lips he wants to put them in his mouth, but he’s holding back, as if to get suguru’s opinion on the matter.

“depends,” he huffs, holding onto your hips, “how bad does she want it?” they talk about you like you’re not even there, as though you’re not already in such a vulnerable state for them.

“whaddya think, peach? what should we do?” satoru looks down as you, holding your left breast tightly as he anticipates your response.

“i.. i want more,” you say, but it’s not the response he’s looking for as he pinches your nipple.

“gotta try harder than that: be specific.”

you take a shaky breath, looking back at suguru to see if there’s any sympathy and maybe he would be kinder without having you embarrass yourself more in front of your friends.

“you heard what he said, peach, tell us what you want.”

throwing your head back, you gulp: “please fuck me.” you start, “use me however you want.” you say it quietly the first time, which again, was not to their liking.

suguru leaned forwards, slapping your one breast, “say it loud and clear, or else you get nothing.” his stern tone make a chill roll down your hot back.

“i want you to use me,” you say, choking back a whimper, “to fuck me— both of you. please?” your lip quivered, making satoru let out a deep chuckle.

“well how can we say no? considering you asked so nicely.”

with that, suguru pushed your bottoms to the side, starting out with a single finger. he started at your hole, making his way up to your clit and then back down again.

“shit satoru, she’s so fucking wet.” he circles your open, making you twitch. he sinks the first finger into you, feeling just how your cunt clung to him, gushing all over his wrist.

“greedy girl,” he mumbled under his breath, adding a second finger. his hand flicked up, pumping in and out while satoru finally locked his lips against your breasts.

pecking them with kisses, his groans vibrated onto your skin, as he licked his way towards your nipple.

“feels so good,” you moan, feeling how your walls pulse around suguru. it was pure bliss, basking in the pleasure that was crashing over you like a wave.

“m close” you informed them as that familiar knot began forming in your stomach. just as you prepared for the best, suguru’s rhythm stopped.

“not yet, you haven’t even felt my cock yet.” you let out an embarrasing whine. suguru takes one of the fingers that was just inside you and glides his tongue across it, humming about how good you taste. “try it satoru.”

the white haired boy listened, detaching his hungry lips from your nipples and reattached them to suguru’s finger.

“mm—you’re right, so sweet!” he began a palming at his swim shorts, tired of the built up tension. suguru feels the same, and you hold your breath as they reveal what they’d been hiding all along.

both of them having their bathing suits pulled down just enough to expose their dripping cocks. both of them are long, although suguru’s seems to be a little bit thicker. their tips are flushing, sticky with precum, anticipating just how roughly they’re gonna use you.

suguru flips you on your stomach again, and you’re face to watch with satoru’s cock. his angry head stares down at you, making your mouth water with the way he strokes it.

from behind you, suguru drags his dick against your pussy, rubbing a circle into you swollen clit.

“please fuck me su, please” you beg, and they both laugh at how needy you’ve become for your friends.

“looks like she’s already learning how to be a good slut,” suguru exclaims, lining himself up with your tight cunt.

he slams his hips into you, grabbing your waist and driving you deeper and deeper on his cock. your eyes feel like they’re rolling behind your head, and your mouth falls open only for it to be filled by satoru.

he starts with his thumb, like he’s checking just how wet your mouth is. you swirl his digit on your tongue, fluttering your eyes open in order to look up at him. he can sense your hungry eyes and only juts his hips forward, giving you unfiltered access to his dick.

kissing his tip, you hear how much he’s enjoying it. saying your name softly under his breath, like he’s ready to crumble already. you stroke his cock carefully until he orders you to open wide, and you follow directions to a tee.

he paused for a moment, watching his friends steady pace, trying to match it. while suguru has pulled back a bit from your sloppy pussy, satoru fills your mouth. his dick as a slight upturn, hitting against the top of your throat.

both litter the air with their curses, praising how sexy you were, a cheeky little peach, a slut just for them. their thrusts soon become synchronized and while satoru is pushing your head closer to the base of his shaft, suguru reaches around you, stimulating your clit.

“her pussy’s so tight right now,” suguru tells his counterpart.

“trying to make me jealous?” satoru grunts.

“maybe,” suguru snickers.

they both intensify the speed at which they fuck you. geto slaps your ass as if bounces, swallowing his cock with every backwards motion. being in the position that he’s in, he can feel how you’re tensing up, your insides are tingling— you’re close. he can feel his own release building up, but he can’t finish before the two of you.

“are you gonna cum around my cock?” he asks, placing kisses along your back.

satoru groans; still not wanting to be left out of all the fun. he continues from where suguru left off: “are you gonna cum with my dick in your mouth?” he lets out a breath, “are you ready to have two holes filled with cum at the same time? wouldn’t that be fun?”

at that moment your toes curl, your back arching, tearing rolling down your face. as you unravel, the boys follow behind you. when they ask you about it later, you can’t remember who finished first, as every thought in your mind had vanished, all you could think of was how stuffed you felt.

cum gushed from your pussy and your mouth, swallowing as much of it as you possibly could.

satoru’s hand pet the back of your head, watching in delight as he cleaned up the last drop from the corner of your lips.

suguru let his cock rest inside you for an extra moment, groaning as you removed himself, eyeing the trail of semen that was slipping down towards your slit. he brought your swim bottoms back to their original positions, giving your cunt a pretty little tap.

“maybe we should come to the beach more often.” suguru laughs, seeing how you lay against the towel, surrendering yourself to them.

a/n: don’t forget to like and reblog if you liked it!

574 notes · View notes

twilightsumu · 1 day ago

Text

drunk running | s. geto

chapter six: bad thing twice

synopsis: the new year brings in the inevitable. suguru knows he is fucked. yn plays it cool…ish.

warnings/genre: modern au, smau, smut, oral — m receiving, fingering, car (public) sex, kms joke, cursing, partying, implied alcohol use, sukuna (lol), suguru being heavily affected (embarrassingly so), yn pretending, slight angst (i think — my chest hurt writing some parts lmao), some descriptions of religious things.

a/n: chapter six, my beloved! oh, how fun was this — i say as i play forget her by jeff buckley on repeat whenever i wrote from suguru’s pov. (i'm clutching my chest and looking over my shoulder).

*see ya at the end*

suguru is staring back at himself in the bathroom mirror. his pupils blown. hair slicked to his forehead. his teeth sinking into his bottom lip.

he could hear the steps of every single person in their apartment. the lights over the mirror look funny, he is so sure he changed them recently, but they look like they’re dimming. the door his back is leaning on is vibrating from the bass of the speaker and he feels like there are too many sensations happening at once.

and you. you’re on your knees in front of him. your head just making the cut off of what could be seen in the reflection.

your mouth is stretched around his cock and he swears he isn’t going to make it to the countdown. not that he cares. not when you’re looking up at him through your lashes — he’ll stay in this year for the rest of his life if he could keep you here. keep you tethered to his body, at least then you can’t really pretend. right?

pretty lips wrapped perfectly around him. hollowed cheeks, your mouth making space just for him, or maybe inviting him back home.

and maybe it’s the way your eyes have not left him that’s making him believe that.

“shit,” he grunts, slowly. but even with the music blasting and everyone yelling over one another — his voice, the sounds coming for your mouth. it’s much louder.

both of his hands are buried in your hair. soft strands that tickle his knuckles, slick with sweat from his palm. everytime he grabs a little harder, he smells your shampoo. it’s still the same.

you hum around him, and he takes everything for him to not jerk his hips forward. the vibration makes his thighs tense in concentration, making his abs twitch. he’s sure he could feel you trying to smile — he’s memorized the curve of your smug grin in whatever avenue it’s in.

your mouth is warm, wet, familiar. spit trickles down from your chin, as you pick up speed. one of your hands pressing your nails into his thigh — he knows they’ll be crescent shaped mementos from you tomorrow. your other hand is curled around the base of his shaft, stroking his cock in the most tantalizing rhythm.

slick sounds — ones coming from your mouth, his shuddered breathing, some sultry song booming into the floorboards fill the air. obscene and sharp. he’s starting to feel overwhelmed.

and then he looks down at you again. watching your throat as you slide down. the way your lashes flutter, like little butterfly kisses on the top of your cheeks — he almost wants to place his pinky right below to feel the softness of the flutter. watches, as your tongue flicks out to tease the underside of his tip — with practiced ease. you remember just what he likes your mouth to do. you sink back down, eyes locked on his — the slurp so loud, he’s sure everyone heard, despite the music being so loud.

he wants to be embarrassed that you’re both here. that he couldn’t fight the tug of his hand twenty minutes into the party. blaming it on the one sip of beer he took right before you walked in. couldn’t ignore the way you sent him that flirty grin. or how easily you fell to your knees — like you’re praying on a pew made just for you.

he chokes on a whimper, and once again another bout of embarrassment courses through.

“fuck,” he hisses lowly. but he knows you heard. sending him a moan of your own — one that sounded more like a tease. teasing him because you like hearing him fall apart. you still know how to help him get there.

you don’t stop. it’s messy and deliberate. you’re bobbing your head a little faster down on him, salvia coating him and strings of it connect your lips to him every time you pull back. bopping a little sloppier. you always liked when he lost his composure first.

he wants to laugh at that now. what a fucking joke.

but he can’t, not when you’re flattening your tongue as you push all the way down. your tongue follows the curve of his protruding vein, like it’s a track just for you to go along. you pull back up fast, your tongue now flicking his tip in tight circles.

his knees buckle. his shoulders feel so heavy. he had to look up at the ceiling because he knows if he stares down at you for one more second, he’s going to fucking lose it. not that he hasn’t already.

one of his hands that were entangled in your hair rushes out to brace himself against the wall closest to him. the hand still in your hair grips tighter, holding you in place. keeping you two together.

his jerks hip forward, on their own. and you lean in a little more, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. the sound is sharp and wet. and he isn’t sure if the gruttal choke came from you or him — but the sound causes that white heat feeling in his gut to start growing.

he swallows down another sound. you sink down lower. and if he thought he was gone before, he’s not sure where he is right now.

the light over the mirror gets a little brighter. the music is louder. more footsteps stomping into his place. your mouth feels more familiar as your tongue gets more accustomed to his cock. and he thinks you never forget the feeling as well.

his thighs are so tense. his breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling cause broken gasps to leave his lips. he wants to shut his eyes but decides to finally look at you again.

you’re moaning — he feels it, he hears it, he wants to live in them. your thighs are clenched and he gets excited knowing you’re feeling this just as much as he is.

your eyes, still staring back at him. tears threatening to fall on your lash line. lashes still sending those little kisses to your cheeks.

your nails dig a little further into his thighs and he wants to hiss out in pain, but he feels nothing but your body on his. you’re grounding yourself — your mouth gets sloppier, faster, warmer.

he pulls back a bit, not leaving your mouth. and once again, your tongue flicks his head. your hand squeezes the shaft a little tighter. he could almost hear how tight your thighs are clenching together.

he thinks back at gojo’s party how he wanted the dj to record your laugh just to send to him. he wants him to record this as well — the way his cock disappears into your mouth with each thrust, the lewd squelch of spit and suction echoing in the small bathroom.

“don’t stop,” he mutters, and he ignores the whine at the end of his syllables. his fingers gripping together into your hair, he hopes he isn’t hurting you.

you press further down on him, deeper. your hand on his shaft just there to hold him up for you. throat clenched around him, like a warm embrace, drool bubbling at the corners of your lips. you don’t blink away.

he thinks you look absolutely beautiful like this.

“FIVE!”

his fingers curl even tighter around your pomegranate scented hair, gripping hard. you show no sign of discomfort. you’re actually inviting it, with how much further you’re allowing him to enter your mouth.

you hold him in your mouth, your hand pumping what your throat can’t at the moment.

“TWO!”

his eyes roll back. breathing heavy. he feels like he’s in a sauna right fucking now.

“ONE!”

he is spilling in your mouth. fast. a shudder so deep, he feels it in his toes . he has to curl over your head so that he does not fall through the door he’s leaning on. he basically caged you in, and he wants to keep you here — maybe until next year.

he is completely sure that everyone heard just how loud he groaned. and he doesn’t care. because it’s just proof that he had you in some capacity.

you take him all. every single drop. every sound. every grip. not a single flinch.

you don’t move, not even a blink — just swallowing him down and looking up like you’re proud of it. like you’ll swallow him whole after. you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

you pull back, a slick of spit keeping the tip of his cock and your swollen lips connected. you look up at him, cheeks flushed, tongue out — showing him you swallowed. and he feels his knees buckle. he wants to blame it on the aftershock, but he knows that would be a lie.

you watch him, watch you. his chest is still rising rapidly, and he wants to see just how soaked you are. your thighs still clenched. that flirty grin now has the space to be etched on your lips in full.

he wonders if guys could get away just staying in the bathroom for the rest of the night.

you use your hands to lift yourself up from his thighs, he’s surprised he has the strength to even withhold that amount of pressure.

his hand is still threaded in your hair, and your hands placed tightly on his forearm — like you’re both too scared to let go of one another.

suguru could only pay attention to your lips. glossed over, inviting, the gentlest smile ghosting them. he’s surprised a stupid joke hasn’t left them yet.

and he’s leaning down, to finally breathe you in — mouth to mouth. three years of waiting, three years of remembering. he is choosing to ignore your light pull back, your hands still holding on. he knows you like the chase.

“where the FUCK is suguru?” he hears gojo right outside the bathroom door. and something in you snaps. like you just realized you’re here, with him. lips inches away. eyes sharing the same space between you both.

you swiftly pull back, your hands still holding on, his hand still threaded in your hair. and you turn your head to the left, placing the softest kiss on the pulse point of his wrist.

and he swallows down the way his heart lunges, like it’s jumping out to be placed in your palm. to have your lips give it the same chaste kiss you gave his wrist.

your cheeks are burning, your eyes wide like you are just realizing what you did. he studies you as much as he can. he doesn’t think you’ve ever done something so soft.

“happy new year, suguru,” you whisper, pulling away from him completely. and like that, the softness is physically gone, but it’s there. his fingers still feel your hair tickling his knuckles. he hopes the strands recognized him.

your eyes are dodging his. you must know what he’s thinking — or you’re trying not to find out.

the softness is in your voice and in the way you're trying not to look up at him. in the ghost of your lips on his pulse — he feels it beating a little faster.

he feels like he’s waiting for everyone to surprise him at his own party. he knows where everyone is. he knows why everyone is here. he’s been here before. its supposed to feel exhilarating.

this, just isn’t as fun.

suguru lets out a breath, one that he wasn’t aware was lodged in his chest. like he’s trying to huff out the last three years into the toilet, making space for this new year. one with you, possibly.

he swears those lights above the mirror are as bright as they’ve ever been. almost matching the light in your eyes. the ones looking over him, narrowing at the doorknob right behind him.

“you should go kiss your boyfriend,” you’re laughing, taking a few steps towards him to be within his breathing room. and he smiles quickly, the joke he knew was waiting, kissing him softly.

“he’ll be okay,” his voice is low, hungry. and the way you’re licking your bottom lip, he knows that you’re fully aware of what you’re doing. of what he wants.

his eyes are watching you as you pull your dress down to where it should be. quickly smoothing your hair. your lashes damp. your cheeks tinted. his cum on the tip of your tongue.

he almost feels possessive.

you smile, dodging his eyes. your hand grazes his hip and he leans into the touch like a dog leaning its head in its owner’s lap. but your hands lightly push him away, finding the doorknob to slip out of the bathroom.

you don’t look back. the door clicks shut. suguru’s belt buckle clinks on the floor. and the overhead lights are dimming again.

he doesn’t bother fixing himself. he believes if he moves too fast, the memory of your mouth on him would vanish. like how everyone believes the new year magically banishes the grime from the year before.

you feel him — as much as you feel the coolness from the car door’s handle in your palm. his catlike eyes are dragging along your spine, inching their way into your skin.

“are you following me?” you ask. tilting your head so that you could glance at him from over your shoulder. your palm on the handle pulling, inviting you into the safety of the car. warmth cascading out and kissing your cheeks.

however, the warmth from the car is no match for the warmth of knowing. knowing that suguru is walking towards you. knowing that he wants what you’re willing to give.

his quiet footsteps following you, dangerously close. comfortably welcoming. his steps, this idling car — toying a line that was crossed weeks ago at gojo’s party. the new year just brought in the finality of it, like how it brings in cheers and new outlooks on the days ahead.

“don’t act like you don’t want me to,” he says, low enough that you want to roll your eyes at how easily it was for your ears to train on him instantly.

“mhm… your words, not mine,” you mumble, excitement clinging onto the cold chill the new year is bringing.

your body is halfway in the car, and you’re trying your hardest to not pay attention to a couple things.

one, just how badly you want to stay here with suguru. even if it’s just out here, bringing in the new year. a wind wrapping you both. you’ll even forget about what transpired in the bathroom. you just kind of like having him here. watching you leave.

you’ll walk all the way home if that means his steps would be nipping at yours from behind.

and the fact that suguru’s steps aren’t stopping. you want to look back at him, but you don’t want to see whatever emotion he’s trying to hide. you know he is rotating what suguru to present to you. he’s trying to be strong. and as much as you want his hands on your body, his breath hitched into your neck — you don’t want to touch that right now.

that’s why you dodged his eyes as soon as you swallowed everything he gave you. the bathroom lights were shining a little too brightly, you could make out the emotions he’s had since he was born with how wide and willing they were.

his hands in your hair, your lips pressing to his heartbeat… yeah, that was enough feelings for the next three years.

especially with the new year on the horizon and his cum coating your tongue. you think you had enough.

you know it, actually. because this would end one way. and you don’t know if you’re willing to slip out of his reach this time. and that terrifies you.

you slip into the car. the driver paying you no mind, as he argues into his phone.

harsh and final tone. it brings you back to that night three years ago. the one you don’t want to bring up — no matter how cathartic it may be for both of you.

it happened. you ignored it the best you could. you’re still walking away now.

you’re reaching out to close the door behind you. locking you away from suguru before he gets to you.

however, he had other plans and you forgot just how persistent he could be. his arm reaching out to stop the door from closing — giving him just enough room to slip in.

his thigh meeting yours. his cologne washing over. the door clicking behind him. your chest tightening. the drip in your panties persisting. you almost let out a groan.

it’s even warmer now. your driver looking back to nod his head at you two, his foot meeting the gas and starting the drive to your house.

you ignore suguru’s eyes on the side of your face. your body betraying you and leaning slightly into his — your knees pressed together, jumping you back to that dinner a couple weeks ago.

the feeling never leaving, just morphing into the pure heat in this car.

the driver is still angrily whispering into his phone and you want to ask for a headphone, so that you could hear the other side of the argument. weigh in your decision, continue to ignore the weight of suguru’s stare.

“you weren’t going to say goodbye?” he leans down a bit. you feel his breath on your cheek.

“i think i did enough with my mouth.” you shrug, trying to find balance in your voice.

he chuckles lowly, and you almost believe you hear the shiver of nervousness etched into it. like he sees what’s about to happen, and he’s going to get the short end of the stick again.

his hand finds its place on your bare thigh and you shiver at the contact. his calloused fingers pressing. your panties are dampening even more. you roll your eyes at the quick escape you were trying to do — what a stupid fucking plan.

you clench your thighs, involuntarily of course. you see suguru grin from the corner of your eyes. you swallow your own grin down.

“fuckin’ idiot,” the driver mutters. shouts heard coming from the other end of the phone.

you’re sure he’s talking about you. actually, maybe suguru. you pray he is talking about him.

you suck in a breath, not looking at the pretty boy who knows your body so well. this should be exciting. a psychiatrist would probably tell you that you’re finally getting what you’ve been trying to find in the geto juniors.

you can’t help but feel like you’re skiing down lava instead of snow. what is going to happen this time?

you should have thought of that on your knees. yeah, you’re the idiot.

you know you guys don’t need to talk. words aren’t needed when your bodies are the validators. and that’s the problem — you speak fluency in body movements. suguru hangs on to words. gripping on to the meaning of things — despite knowing he’ll get hurt. that you’ll hurt him.

his fingers continue to creep up. his other arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer to him. you’re practically leaning into his chest.

you feel the shudder of his breath. you smell his cologne, it’s the same one from college. you feel his heart trip over itself and you want to push him out of the car for his own safety.

everything is happening quietly but quickly. you feel like the driver is driving thirty miles over the speed limit and he’s about to miss your exit — and that comes with mixed feelings. more time with suguru’s fingers making its way to your cunt (who’s missed him so dearly). more time with his heart punching you because it’s beating so hard. more time with the drivers nasty tone, sounding like suguru three years ago.

you finally glance over to suguru, his eyes dark and narrowed.

“here?” your eyes jumping to the driver. he’s still oblivious, still angry. you want to pat him on the shoulder and tell him it’ll be okay — just have him look back at you two now. but, you barely know what the fuck is happening back here.

“i don’t really want to wait,” he mumbles. “i don't think you want me to either.”

you kind of want to laugh because he isn’t lying and that invisible line is gone. done. no such thing as doing new things to bring the new year in with you two.

instead, you mentally say “fuck it,”. shifting in your seat, letting your legs fall open a little more. like having access to your most private parts is his god given right. you almost think it is.

he hums like he’s greeting an old friend — taking your invitation with full confidence. his fingers gently dragging the soaked fabric of your panties to the side.

cold air hits your heat immediately, it doesn’t last though. not when the rough pads of suguru’s fingers slide through your folds.

you let out that groan you’d been holding in. quiet, barely restrained.

your hand finds his wrist, not stopping him — grounding yourself to him. keeping you here, in this seat, his fingers finding their way back into you like they’ve never forgotten their way around.

his fingers drag slow, teasing lines through your slick. the noise not protected by a door or loud music. the sounds of wet and shamelessness mixing with the sound of the car’s engine, the driver’s muffled cursing, you and suguru’s hitched breaths.

he dips one finger in, slow and deliberate. you clench around him, like you’re welcoming said old friend.

“fuck,” he whispers. more to himself than to you. “you still feel the same.”

before you could respond, another finger joined and you bite your lower lip, hard. making sure a sound doesn’t slip out. you’re eyeing the back of the driver, praying that the person in his headphone is screaming at him so loudly he won’t be able to make out that you're unraveling behind him.

his fingers curl, just right, and of course suguru remembers what your body likes. you’ll be shocked if he didn’t.

you’re trying to stay upright, but you feel yourself melting into the leather seat, into his shoulder. your hand not on suguru clenching the seat below you. suguru’s hand on your waist pulling you even closer.

you’re training your eyes in the rear view mirror. trying to keep a composed face. watching the driver for any sign of knowing.

“sugur-“ you’re cut off by his thumb finding your clit.

you swallow a moan. squeezing your eyes shut. his thumb starts its clockwise rotation on your bundle of nerves.

he chuckles when you buck your hips up, the fingers in you burrowing further.

his fingers sink into you further, with an ease that makes his breath hitch. like he too didn’t expect you to be this wet — not for him. not after the three years of silence.

your grip on his wrist tightens even more, you almost feel his pulse matching yours. you remember how his pulse felt on your lips some time ago.

you finally look back at him and he is watching you. eyes hooded, lips parted — like he’s studying what ruins you best, as if he does not know.

you know suguru is enjoying this. the way he is huffing through his nostrils to compose himself. the way his thumb just so happens to know where your clit is, no matter how long it’s been. whatever words spilling out his mouth are spoken in that very specific tone, heavy and gruff. the way his left foot is bouncing like a jack rabbit. you want to tease him about it, remind him that you know him almost better than he thinks he knows you.

you lean closer into him, his thumb on your waist rubbing soft circles. you want to tell him to stop that, but it’s in perfect rhythm with the thumb circling on your clit.

your lips are so close. noses brushing against each other. a gasp about to leave your lips and emerge into his mouth, that has some deceleration wanting to be spilled from it. you’re about to ignore it for tonight, just to feel his lips on yours.

“ma’am,” suguru’s fingers freeze and your head snaps up, you’re looking at how wide your eyes are from the rearview mirror. “do i turn up this street?”

you’re quickly looking out the window. tons of people with party hats and streamers are walking the streets. you feel like you were dropped into a different place, shocked that you heard someone from it. your heavy breathing, suguru’s tapping left foot, and your wetness the only things your ears picked up on.

“yes, that’ll be great,” your voice is shaky and you’re choosing to ignore both the driver’s questioning stare and suguru’s amused one.

his fingers haven’t moved again, like they’re content just being in you. the car shifts with the turn, and you’re pushed into his side.

“i get to make sure you make it home safely,” with how close you are, he’s basically whispering into your hair. “you know, crazy people are out at this time of night.”

“says the man with his hand in my pu-“

“here!” the driver yells, and with how flushed he seems — you know you were caught.

suguru’s fingers leave quickly and you almost whine at how much you miss them. you slide away from his grip, pulling your dress down as much as you can. ignoring the driver's eyes.

you jump out first, looking at suguru shuffle out behind you. and because yeah, you’re a bearer of stupid fucking ideas and and libido that could only be matched with his — you jump at the bait.

“for old times sake?” you ask. wiggling your eyebrows to make him laugh.

“as friends?” he says, a grin etched onto his lips. you hear the nervous quiver though.

and for some reason, the nervous twitch in his shoulder as he slides out the car, his question, the easy grin placed so delicately on his lips — you feel annoyed. almost angry. you almost want to turn around and slam the door before he even has the chance to watch you go.

you’re brought back to the conversation from three years ago. you guys could have still been friends, if he didn’t fall. if he didn’t feel sorry for you. whatever the fuck that means. you like to pretend that specific line doesn’t stay with you. the heaviness of it creeping up when you’re touching a situation you’re sure has qualms that would ruin every single thing you’ve put up to protect yourself, protect others. and funnily enough, suguru is always the leader in those situations.

what great fucking luck you two have with each other.

“of course, geto,” you reply, trying to keep the joke in your voice. keep the welcoming tone. you’re doing this for your body, for the things you know only he could do. “i wouldn’t want you to catch feelings again.”

he is out of the car, his hand on the door to close is shut. his back to you, tense. like he’s entering a room where he just heard everyone talking about him. you’re not sure if he’s tense at his last name, or the feelings comment.

you let out a quiet, nervous laugh. it’s met with the shutting of the car door. you don’t think you could hide how shocked you are.

“ah, what the hell,” suguru huffs. turning around to look at you, his hands coming up to rub his hands through his hair. like he’s trying to hide from you, or grip onto the ends of his hair as an anchor – remind him that he could stay here and not go up to you.

his grin isn’t as easy, but it’s there — forced or not.

“happy new year,” the driver calls out. his voice was as harsh as when he was arguing with whoever that was on the oblong.

and there on the first step up towards your apartment, you watch him. you want to run up the stairs first — give you some much needed space, relish in the fact that he’s going to run after you. maybe ask the driver to put him back into the car and drive him around the city. give him a pretty show while he thinks about what he’s doing. maybe they could share some argument tips so the next time this fails, suguru can hurt you with his words even more

you don’t. you shake your head, shaking that conversation out your head. shaking any sign or those puppy dog eyes from suguru away.

you stay on the stoop and watch him walk to you.

you’re laying on your side, naked — cheek pressed into the bed like you’re trying to become one with it. the sheet wrapped lazily around your waist. your hair trickling down on to the pillowcase, like it knows where it belongs. that beauty mark on your left shoulder watching him, watch you.

the shouts welcoming the new year have since ceased. the only things suguru could hear are the sounds of your light snoring and his brain screaming at him to get the fuck out of here.

“fuck,” he groans, quietly. not to wake you.

with the amount of space between you two, he’s sure you wouldn’t have heard anyways.

he feels uncomfortable — and not because he’s in your space. but, that you’re allowing him to be here. yes, you rolled over as far as you can. yes, you’re one movement from falling off the bed. yes, the darkness of the early morning is shrouding your back — the light kissing your cheeks and the bruises he made sure to leave on your chest. but, he’s here. and you know that.

he runs his hands down his face, hoping he rubs some sense into himself.

the window your body is facing is letting in the very early winter sunrise. still dark and gloomy. cold. outside the window there is a flickering light, one that suguru can’t figure out what it is. in his mind, he’s using it as an alarm. a calling sign that he’s in too deep. warning, warning — suguru is going to get ruined. again.

he thinks about the lights in his bathroom earlier. there had to be some connection? or whenever he’s around you, lights just start to fuck around with him.

he flicks his eyes away from the light, not liking the sense of urgency it has. he doesn’t know what it means. he doesn’t care — especially when you’re here. a body away. he has your scent drifting around him like fireflies in the summer evening.

he knows the implications. there is no need to rush away now. he never left in the first place. the three years were just a little hiatus — one that meant nothing in the long run.

with some light creeping in, he uses it to train his eyes to finally look. have full access to your space, without you knowing. and so many things, even after three years, screams you.

the nail polish you always use on your toes, lays on its side on the dresser in front of the bed. he genuinely shocked that it's closed, you’ve had many instances where you have forgotten. that dark lavender color staining whatever it laid on.

books scatter on your bedside table, on the dresser ahead, the ones not neatly lined on the bookshelf lay haphazardly on their spines. he knows you haven’t finished them. you’ve always had an issue with finishing things all the way.

you shift a bit and he almost reaches his arm out to make sure you don’t fall out of the bed. but he’s too far, he wouldn’t have reached if you fell anyways.

you’re okay, nuzzling into the pillow deeper. finding a home in it, while suguru is looking for a way out.

he looks away from you. your beauty mark still staring, that flickering alarm light still calling for him to escape now.

he moves his eyes around the room again. an old college shirt thrown over the closet door. that bookshelf that isn’t lined with books, but with the actual pockets of your life. framed pictures of you and friends.

you’re smiling in most of them — big and bright. like it’s easy for you, and suguru had to remind himself that it is. some of them, you’re making silly faces, or you’re mid movement, your body and face blur — but your eyes still shine and that smile is still memorized on your face.

and with the precision of a hawk, his eyes narrow in on himself. in the back of those snapshots of your life, there’s a picture collecting dust. you’re not mid dance or pretending — he would know.

suguru is staring back at himself. he squints harder and all the way in the back, as if you were trying to tuck him away — picture form and physically.

it’s a picture of him. well, a picture that includes him. it’s from his junior year, your sophomore year. he knows because he remembers the exact hair length you had every year.

it’s a group picture — shoko in between you and him, nanami to your other side. and with how nanami looks, he is sure it’s gojo who took the picture. haibara is to the side of him. all of you young, all of you happy.

no i love yous driving someone way. the taste of you foreign to his tongue.

his arm finding some way to be looped around your shoulders, even with shoko in between. and because he truly does not remember this picture — he never noticed how in this snapshot, you’re staring at him. a real smile etched on your lips, your head tilted to look over at him.

he sucks in a breath. long and deep, like he’s coming up from swimming at the deep end of a pool. he almost wants to wake you up, finally reach his arm out and tap that beauty mark as if it’s a power button that would start you up.

instead he smiles to himself. the smile not matching the actual fire burning in his gut. he wants to corner you and ask if that waiter that looks like him, looks up at suguru’s picture, whenever he enters you.

but then he knows he has to corner himself too. ask this version of himself how it has been to be privy to these private moments with you? watching you sleep, get dressed and undressed, maybe think of him?

he didn’t know he could be jealous of himself, but he is. because why does he get that treatment?

was it easier to pretend then?

suguru slides out of your bed. his brain racing and tiredness creeping up his shoulders like a shawl.

his back towards the door, his eyes still roaming your body. narrowing in on the space that was between you both — a perfect calling place for where he wants to vomit his feelings and leave everything involving you there. maybe he’ll place that picture you have of him up there in that place. since even you know, he’ll always be around.

he doesn’t want to leave you the mess or the confusion though. so, he quietly grabs his clothes. he rattles with the game plan of sneaking your pillow and that framed picture of you both. the one that has been watching this ordeal, in the crotch of his pants. like a low-level robber — clusmy, desperate, a joke.

he decides against it, he’s sure the smell of your shampoo would dance around him like the entrails of those new year resolutions that no one follows through with. he wants the suguru in the frame to stay perched there, collecting dust, collecting memories with you that he doubts will have come to fruition — even though he will kill to swap places.

he continues his quiet backward trek, walking around like he knows the soul of your space. and maybe he does. because he knows he’ll end up back here.

he knows he’ll continue to pretend. following you along as far as you’ll let him.

he makes it to the door, tiptoeing out — and he is almost sure he hears you let out a huff of relief when he closes the door behind him. or maybe that's just the sound of him leaving himself behind, again.

taglist: @re-tired-succubus, @luvvcho, @iluvujt, @smolcooki33, @candy-s72, @starmapz, @shokosbunny, @emlient, @loveyislost, @whatismatildethinkingabout, @shibataimu, @11thlife02, @se-phi-roth, @frootloopscos, @risagichi, @sttaejoon-blog, @vampshxde, @corvid007, @marsavie, @vorfreudevortex, @bubblegumcat229, @fairygardenprincesss, @lily-isalittlegirl, @sukunasrealgf, @vimzya, @sexylexy12

extra a/n: hi! if you would be so kind to answer some questions. could be in my ask or under this. im working on chapter seven and i think its going to be big — would you like to wait a little longer for me to post it all at once or do a part 1, part 2 situation!? your opinions would be much appreciated!

*also — after rereading, ive realized i did not change the time stamps on the tweets so pls make believe the dates are in december (for the current timeline). okay bye! thank you for reading :)

82 notes · View notes

mullermilkshake · 1 day ago

Text

Master list

(Remastered)

You are just an author wanting to put your writing out there and carry on with your life, but when two people end up murdered, things you write about seem to be more real than just pure fiction.

Suguru Geto x Fem!reader / Detective!Satoru Gojo x Fem!reader (Kinda) Cast - Geto Suguru, Gojo Satoru, Ino Takuma, Ieiri Shoko, Nanami Kento, Higuruma Hiromi, Fushiguro Toji, Tsukumo Yuki, Kong Shiu, Ijichi Kiyotaka, Nitta Akari, Sukuna | Ryoumen Sukuna, Minor side characters Tags - Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Yandere Getou Suguru, Smut, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Established Relationship, Pleasure Dom, Codependency, Murder, Torture, Cunnilingus, Orgasm Control, Multiple Orgasms, Minor Original Character(s), psychiatry, Medication, Power Imbalance, Vaginal Fingering, Disembowelment, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Rimming, Praise Kink, Grinding, Dry Humping, thigh riding, Aftercare, Hunting, Guns, Perceived infidelity, Body Horror, Smoking, Vaginal Sex, Misogyny, Public Stimulation, one sided sexual tension, Invasion of Privacy, Strangulation, Reader-Insert, Serious Satoru Gojo, Edging, Obsession, Accidental Voyeurism, Angst, Questions masculinity, Knives, Solo male masturbation, Is it one sided sexual tension now?, Thoughts of death, thoughts of dying, Thoughts of Suicide, Therapy.

Credit to - @404UND_ Twitter ☆ (Geto - if anyone knows the acc please let me know, this is all I could find to give credit to the artist) - @maronjapan9a (Satoru)

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 -Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20 -Chapter 21 - Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 - Chapter 24 -Chapter 25 - Chapter 26 - Chapter 27 - Chapter 28 - Chapter 29 - Chapter 30 - Chapter 31 - Chapter 32 - Chapter 33 - Chapter 34 - Chapter 35 - Chapter 36 - Chapter 37 - Chapter 38 - Chapter 39 - Chapter 40 - Chapter 41 - Chapter 42 - Chapter 43 - Chapter 44

If you would liked to be tagged, please let me know! 🤗

DISCLAIMER - I do not own any of the characters of Jujutsu Kaisen. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

The oc side characters and advanced plot is my own work. A gift for @vampir-queen and original idea for this fic is their's. Cross posted from my AO3

Also please don’t post any of my work, thank you!

66 notes · View notes

valetoria · 7 months ago

Text

ུᩧ JJK TWITTER LINKS P5 !

৻ꪆ instructions. before clicking, you must be logged into your acc and have twitter open in order for these links to function .

TOJI FUSHIGURO. ꒱‎‎

listen to his voiceee. ⋆ cunt devouring. ⋆ massive size kink. ⋆ prone bone. ⋆ straddling his lap. ⋆ anal princess. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ pretty & shy girl blowjob. ⋆ pounding you in missionary.

CHOSO KAMO. ꒱‎

beneath the table. ⋆ cockwarming while he plays games. ⋆ squeaky girlfriend. ⋆ what a distraction. ⋆ pussy eating. ⋆ clit licking. ⋆ rubbing you off. ⋆ plap plap plap ! ⋆ tit worshipper.

NANAMI KENTO. ꒱‎

slow teasing. ⋆ soft choking. ⋆ ass groping. ⋆ kissing in lingerie. ⋆ somnophilia. ⋆ the vids he sends you at work. ⋆ warm & entwined. ⋆ gentle fingering. ⋆ rubbing your pussy for you.

GETO SUGURU. ꒱‎

slutty waist. ⋆ backshots. ⋆ love hate sex with your ex. ⋆ let me show you a trick. ⋆ ass eating. ⋆ hard pounding. ⋆ bathroom floor. ⋆ balancing on the wall. ⋆ rubbing you. ⋆ sideways.

GOJO SATORU. ꒱‎

dumbification. ⋆ backshots in a maid dress. ⋆ 69ing. ⋆ spread your legs & let him do his job. ⋆ taking it so well. ⋆ kinky shit p2. ⋆ tied & edged. ⋆ fucking in the backseat of his car.

SUKUNA RYOMEN. ꒱‎

schoolgirl fit (kunas ver.). ⋆ kidnapped. ⋆ personal use. ⋆ position goes crazy. ⋆ punishment in cuffs. ⋆ folded & munching your cunt. ⋆ rough fucking. ⋆ full nelson.

36K notes · View notes

tonycries · 3 months ago

Text

Video Game Lover - G.S.

Synopsis. Suguru Geto, the resident nerd who “helps” you with your homework. Tall, gloomy, mean, and- and an alpha? And he’s in rut?!

Pairing. Geto Suguru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! oméga! reader, alpha! nerd! Geto, ruts, OMÉGAVERSE AU, pánty-sniffer Geto, he goes FÉRAL, MEAN Geto, headIocks, slightly bímbo! reader, dúmbifícation, cervíx kíssing, creampíes, cúmplay, MANHANDLlNG, Geto with glasses + tattoos, overstím, knots, first times (Geto), pússydrunk Geto, MATÍNG BÍTES, oraI (f + m), p talking, spítting, praise, he’s POSSESSIVE, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.8k

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

“Please, Sugu—?”

“No.”

“I’ll let you keep my panties?”

And that makes Geto shudder, breath hitching into something dangerously husky as he pushes his thick glasses further up his nose bridge. Greedy gaze darting anywhere but where you were oh-so-vulgarly leaning towards him. “Tch- as if I’d ever…”

With a grin, you shift to show him a flash of cherry pink peeking out from underneath that sinfully short skirt of yours.

Purposefully.

He was gone.

“F-fine.” He’s gulping, and it wouldn’t be the first time that you’d goaded the ill-tempered campus genius, Geto Suguru, into doing your- ah, “helping” you with your homework. “But-”

Before Geto can ramble away the usual lecture about something called “academic integrity”, you’re jumping up and tackling his towering frame into a hug. Pressing the curves of your tits into his Digimon t-shirt - just as a little treat - and flouncing excitedly back to your friends.

But what you didn’t notice is the way that makes Geto stiffen.

His tummy lurching, nose raising into the air-

Oh.

You smelled so sweet.

Geto’s spit-slicked lips part open to steal a sharp gasp of the sweltering lecture hall air- it couldn’t be. And his bleary irises can’t even focus, can’t lock on anything but the figure of you mere feet away.

…Could it?

With a slight tilt of your head, you’re staring back at him - and something…carnal pangs through his suddenly-boiling veins.

Then you smirk- and Geto twitches.

Fuck.

He would’ve crashed onto his knees right then and there if it wasn’t for the way that you proceed to dig through your cute, useless bag - still in the middle of a conversation with your friends - and throw something flimsy and pale pink at him.

No shame. No regrets.

None for either of you; but especially not Geto once his strong palms reach out to urgently scramble for the shred of gauzy fabric in midair.

Tangling the stringy satin between thick, ringed fingerpads, he’s sinking his face into its sugarcoated scent before sinking into the realization that you’d had the audacity to throw your fucking panties at him in the middle of a bustling seminar.

Yet, he was even worse - jaw slackening, broad chest heaving with rasping ahs! as he drinks in loooong repeated puffs of your pheromones. Coating his brain in melty molasses of sugar and spice and you.

There was a reason you were the most sought-after omega on the entire campus. With your filthy skin-tight outfits, and your flirty smiles.

And him? He couldn’t get enough.

Smearing away a sloppy splotch of saliva spilling from the corner of his mouth- when had he even started drooling? Geto watches through watery peripherals as you mouth a smug “an advance” at him, and saunter out of the class in your tightly-knit group.

Too tightly-knit, if you asked Geto. Dead-on stare narrowing, he catches the way one of your so-called friends brush away an invisible piece of lint from your shoulder.

Just barely. His head snapping towards Geto when the latter growls-

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

He was fucked.

Listen, it’s not as if you make Geto finish all of your homework - just the ones that you found too tedious, too complicated, or too time-consuming. Which might just happen to be all of them, but you digress!

He was more than happy to collect those slutty scraps of silk you called “panties” and you were proud to keep your streak of having the second-highest GPA in class (after the man himself, of course.)

The more important the grade the more sinful the panties.

After all, it wasn’t as if you minded all of Geto’s fiery stares at you during lectures, the spark in his eyes when he tried to drill a difficult concept into your mind, or the way his dark lashes would flutter drunkenly the moment you got too close.

In fact, you might even admit that you…like it.

Because Geto was hot. Fuck- he was fucking pretty.

You’d seen just how fawny his amethyst eyes were behind those clunky glasses. Lengthy Stygian hair, so many inches above six feet, and biceps that pull his gamer t-shirts so taut that it made you wonder what was underneath.

But it wasn’t as if a nerd - and a beta, obviously, though you didn’t care for secondary gender - like him would ever make a move.

Hell, he barely even talked to anyone other than the professors.

All grumbling and rude. It took you weeks to even get him to acknowledge your existence, and that was only by giving him an “accidental” glimpse of your red, red bra strap.

So you were mostly fine and dandy with this lecherous transaction of yours. Geto was smart; he was never a minute late in emailing you your surely A+ worthy work before their deadlines, and you’d gift him his little treat just the day after.

Except- you were lounging on your couch as the 12:00AM deadline for your latest essay rolled around and there was still no sign of Geto. Not a single ping from your inbox.

With an impatient thumb, you’re idly scrolling through the sparse chat history you’d all but bullied him into sharing with you, brows furrowing deeper and deeper at your plethora of ignored texts and calls.

Nothing new but, seriously…

Scoffing as the clock tick! tick! ticked! its way to 12:01AM.

He was late - and your homework was, too.

You’d been feeling a little too…feverish tonight to attend that one party your friends had invited you to, and thank your stars for that. Because not even minutes later, you were stomping the few blocks down to Geto’s apartment building and all the way up to his white-painted front door.

“Hey, Sugu—” You rap your knuckles harshly on the wood, exasperated. “Are you in there?”

No answer.

Huffing, your heated skin stings where it clashes even harder against his door. Impatiently, “Hah- making an omega walk all the way out here…I should take back all those panties I gave you. Yaga deducts points for late submissions and I am not leaving until you come out.”

Still no answer. Not even a sound.

“In fact, I’ll only get louder.”

Not even a breath.

That was…strange. He should’ve at least come out to shut up your racket so that he can study, if not at the mention of your panties.

And right now your annoyance was being washed away with sharp waves of concern, a nervous bout of laughter escaping you as soon as your hand falls on the door handle to find it shockingly unlocked. Oh?

You and Geto might not be the best of friends, but you wanted him to be alright goddammit.

“Better come out and stop me now, unless you want me to barge in!” You call out, jostling the cold, metallic knob for good measure. It holds firm in your hand, the only thing grounding your swimming mind as you bask in a second of silence. Two. Three. Before sighing, “Have it your way then. I’m coming in–”

Then it hits you.

Slow, at first. Like a smell from a distant memory that you find yourself aching for - find yourself stumbling a few steps inside Geto’s cozy apartment and devouring in generous lungfuls.

You slam the door shut to cloud yourself in the saturated air and gasp.

This was nothing like any expensive perfume you’d smelled before. It felt like your entire body was on fire, like every one of your pores was scorching from deep inside. Like you needed him.

Head whirling with the heady concoction of caramel salt scent and those dark undertones of wine. Something so dangerous. So tempting. So…Suguru.

You jolt. He was in rut.

Wait, rut? Geto Suguru? Wasn’t he…wasn’t he a beta?

You swear he was. You didn’t know what was happening, only angling your head up for more and more and more-

Shit, you’re shoving your thighs together before you know it. Already feeling the slippery stream of slick that sloshes past your pussy lips and puddles at the bottom of your underwear. And you know you’ve never been wetter.

“A-anyone home?” You’re straining out, the doughy mountain of your palm rubbing mindlessly up n’ down through your thin skirt.

Undoubtedly, there’s still no response. And yet, it’s almost as if he’s calling to you - and maybe he is.

Feet wrenching one jerky pitch after the other, you have to balance yourself on the hallway walls to fucking keep your sanity.

And to perhaps stop your weakened knees from slipping you into a pile on the polished hardwood floors. Perhaps to stop yourself from breaking out into a run to wherever your inner luna was clawing to take you.

You breathe, “Th-this isn’t funny, Suguru…”

The soft thuds of your padded steps thunder in time with your racing heart. Louder and louder. Deafening by the time you’re catching sight of a large mahogany door at the end of the corridor that waves ever-so-slightly ajar.

Where those hypnotic pheromones were the most saturated. And your mouth waters.

It’s only once you’re reaching it - trembling, standing stock-still, right outside what you now assumed to be his bedroom - that you realize Geto was calling to you. Well, more like he was calling out for you.

Your name.

In soft, breathy moans that make his rich baritone crack.

“Get the fuck in here.”

The moment Geto Suguru catches a glimpse of your oh-so-cute face - the moment he senses that you’re actually, honest-to-goodness here - he cums.

And he can’t help it- fuck, he can’t help it.

Even dabbing the fat of his massive thumb right over his bawling tip can’t stop the heaping torrents of gooey white escaping from him. Such slick ribbons upon ribbons crawling their way up Geto’s washboard abs, you can only watch with bated breath as his messy, round globs of seed trickle up n’ down until they drench his dark happy trail.

Your watery thighs stick together, maw falling agape because you’d be lying if you said you’d never imagined this.

You had. Once or twice or many, many times.

All splayed out on his Digimon sheets like this; meaty thighs cracked open, silky locks slathered across every inch, glasses fogged up. Ruined. Geto’s sweat-shimmered back arches off the outdated bed springs with a creak! while his hand flew furiously up and down his swollen cock.

Shit, you’re biting your lip. Syllables jumping roughly off of your heavy tongue, “S-Suguru?”

SLAM!

It’s like the sound of your voice does heavenly wonders to him.

Plump, tender balls squeezing, Geto’s free hand encloses behind his sweaty scalp and onto the headboard above him. Hard enough that the sturdy frame snaps, pale biceps flexing enough that you find your skin clammy with need.

“Fuh-fuck.” He’s hissing through clenched teeth. Staring right at your meandering form through dazed half-crescents, mouth departing endless husked grunts. And oh…oh a few more dewy droplets of cum spray out of his bawling orifice once you gulp. “Look what you’ve done t’me.”

“Y-you’re an alpha?” You finally manage to find your voice.

He snickers, the murky scent of the room growing ever-stronger. And even more than that was your own scent, mixing and melding until you felt dizzy. “And you’re in danger, little omega~”

Your widened gaze grows to lock on the way that his rugged fingers continue milking out creamy sploshes of cum. Expertly flying up, up, up– before fisting his hefty base with an airy sigh.

Large. He was so large.

And in so many ways more than one.

An alpha. He was an alpha.

Seductively sculptured body dwarfing his single bed with what looked like miles upon miles of toned, tall muscles. Were those tattoos spying out from the sides of his back?

A syrupy geyser of sap formulates between his two legs the size of your head- this was Geto Suguru?

And his cock - oh, he was so perfectly massive. Oversized, even in Geto’s engulfing hand.

So painfully hard that he was blushing a blossoming magenta near the very tip of his globular cockhead, throbbing. Pulsing. Thick lightning bolts of veins gripping down either side of his pink shaft and all the way down to his breeder balls.

With a harrowed gasp filling your lungs, you’re spotting just the barest fringe of something soaked-through and gauzy tangled underneath his digits.

Fuck.

“Is that-”

“This?” Geto grins - grins. You’ve never seen him smile let alone show off this dopey, predatory leer plastering all over his flushed features. A gentle dimple embeds near his curled lip, and he quirks an eager brow.

You can barely even think while he untwines the frilly pair of panties you’d thrown at him in class from around his aching cock. Sticky and stretched now, it finds home right near his flared nostrils as Geto brings it up and sniffs. Crazed. “C’mere.”

The rawest of glints twinkle in his half-lidded vision as you inch closer, the way you tremble on your two feet like a newborn fawn was adorable. And he can’t stop himself from letting out a low whistle–

“Yeah. Good fuckin’ girl.”

Your body kneels you right by Geto’s bedside before your mind can even think to catch up. Head lolling lecherously against the wide plane of his shivering thigh, you let your tongue lap up a pearl of his buttery white cum and keen. He was even bigger up close. “Sugu—”

“Nuh uh, gorgeous.” Geto tuts, gravelly tonality rendering you confused just as much as you were needy. His two palms grip the crown of your head to peer upwards, “S’all because of you. You n’ those d-damn panties. M’not your hck! nerdy fuckin’ Sugu right now. Best remember that- m’gonna make sure you remember that.”

He’s more than gazing down at you, he’s boring right through you.

Spectacle frames creeping precariously down his nose bridge, tendrils of his shaggy hair almost curtaining him, pellets of sweat trickle down his temples and hit you in thin spatters. So close. And you wanted him closer.

“Tilt your head back, lemme see that ngh- pretty mouth.” One hand slips from your head to curl around Geto’s fattened hilt, nudging his puckered tip to strike your lips with a dull thud! “Count.”

“One-”

And it’s not once.

“T-two-”

Not twice.

“Three- hah!”

Not thrice, until he’s leaving your mouth whimpering and stinging with the slam of his rock-hard shaft slapping down your tender flesh. Leaving a slimy trail of pre and salty cum that leaks between your maw and drives you wild.

Then - and only then - is he wrenching you up closer. Manhandling your pliable body until the very tip of his perfectly button nose meets yours. So close.

Your teary lashes flutter halfway shut once you feel the foggy breeze of his breath scorching your face, cunt quivering with the anticipation of a kiss. His pheromones hit you in powerful gusts, your primal urges scratching up to the surface.

Closer. Too close- for a kiss that never comes.

“Heh. Cute.”

He doesn’t kiss you.

But before you know it, Geto pitches his tongue back and wets your shimmery pouted lips with a large wad of his syrupy saliva.

In just a split-second.

Bowing you back underneath him and stuffing your chatty mouth so damn full of his swollen cock that you can’t even think of anything else. Fat droplets of tears fountain up at the edge of your eyes, you don’t think you’ve ever felt so split open.

He was eight- no, maybe nearing ten whole inches that scraped the back of your mushy throat with his ruthless mushroom tip.

Hard. Girthy.

Cratering out a wet circumference of bruises into your melty mouth with a singular thrust, and it wasn’t enough- fuck, it might never be enough.

Geto’s throwing his head back, toned core muscles tensing. “O-oh. This. Th-this is what it feels like?”

You almost wonder whether he even knew what he was doing once you feel a shaky thigh throwing behind your neck and reel you in close. Drawing you all the way up until your nose scratches his tufted pelvis, mouth hanging wiiidely agape.

“Sh-shooo big–” You’re mumbling through a scalding mouthful, slicked walls clenching at the realization that he had you trapped in a headlock. And by the looks of it, he was never going to let go.

“Yeah- yeah?” He shudders out, bass cracking into a zillion shatters near the end. Octaves higher. Unsteady. Meanly, Geto’s leg jostles you even further from behind to probe his shaft even deeper into your velvety mouth, your chin buckling underneath his curvaceous ballsack. Holding you still. Firmly. “Fuckin’ l-like that, don’t you?”

You can’t nod. You can’t hum affirmative. He was so bulky inside you that your lips sag underneath the sheer weight.

But your omega preens for the attention, sleek tongue zig-zagging over one of the pounding veins that poked into the roof of your mouth. And it’s enough of an answer for Geto.

Spitting out, “Oh yeah? Dirty girl. Didn’t expect your loser lil’ Sugu to have such a fat fuckin’ dick, huh?”

So fucking…rude, words teetering right on just the edge of being menacing. And you were just so gorgeous crying all over his cock like this, so much better than when you were hanging off of other alphas.

So much better when he strays a thumb to feel your filling throat, the way he’s lodged deep inside. Him. All him.

You let off a whiny gag the moment his blushing red cockhead twitches up ferally at the thought. The static cotton in your head making you slurp his length with a sloppy squelch!

He’s pushing up his glasses furiously, “Can you even take it? Seriously- acting so popular n’ mighty when you can’t even take my hngh- cock.”

And you’re about to rebuke, you’re about to- you swear.

But oh, he didn’t have mercy now.

“Whaaaat? M’just saying.” The ridges of his head press up all against every nook and cranny of your mouth, a silvery trail of drool now seeping from between your locked lips. Geto wipes away his own cobwebs of drool with the back of his mouth, giggling. Giggling when you scuffle, “S’it too big? Too big for our f-famous lil’ omega?”

Your throat aches something carnally delicious when he keeps a hold ‘round your neck to plunge into the waterlogged bottom. Bobbing your head in lewd maneuvers allll the way up n’ down. “Ngh- Sugu–”

“Hah- hah!” His glassy eyes gleam something wild, microscopic tastebuds watering all over again with just how intensely he was gawking down at you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that his eyes were glowing- “Why are ya still fuckin’ speaking, gorgeous?”

It wasn’t a Command, but oh did it feel like one.

Only mere moments later and Geto’s springing himself off of the bouncy mattress to shovel your hot throat full of copious inches and leave you spellbound. Swirling a lazy few half-circles of his heavy tip where you were most sensitive.

“Cool that pretty lil’ head. You’re cuter when yer like th-this, y’know?” He groans, feeling your slippery cheeks grip his shaft in an adorable hug. Knee drawing up even tighter to hold you still while he fucked your mouth the way he’d been wishing he could for so long. “All shut up a-and mine and…”

Ah, breath wisping away. He’s prodding your poor gag reflexes at the very same time he rovers up a stray hand to squeeze your nostrils together. “-only mine.”

“Nghh- G-etooo—” And yet, he still doesn’t let up. You’re cupping Geto’s plumpened balls with a delicately loving touch, lustrous strands of spit layering your lips. “Want you.”

“Hm?”

“Want you.”

Oh.

Those are the very same words he’s been dreaming of every single rut since meeting you. And he can’t help himself, he can’t stop himself from letting out a slew of swears and cumming.

Shocked.

“Sh-shit—” It’s all Geto can do to bite down on the plush of his bottom lip and wrangle back those embarrassing fucking whimpers on his tongue, dewy eyes sparkling with a few overstimulated tears. “You’re gonna- f-fucking…”

But he’s not given the privilege to finish his thought let alone his sentence.

Just flooding your senses with the caramel salt of his scent, and his gobs of pearly seed. Every jackhammer has Geto pinpricking it on the back of your bruised and battered throat, every squeeze of his hand around your neck makes him drool out in wiry oodles of sap more and more and more-

“S’what you w-wanted, right?” And you’re sensing the way his scent tinged with something maddened, leaving your eyes popping. “Prancing around with your hah- p-pre-heat panties and your- fuck!” Geto fights to keep his eyes from flapping closed, “Take it- ohhhh take it all.”

As if you could do anything else.

Every tiny twitch leaves your cavern flooded. Geto was cumming so hard that it was overspilling from each crevice of your lips, a silvery waterfall of cum that he’s dabbing around a thumb to smear.

Letting your pouted lips wobble at the fresh topping of white gloss, “There’s a good girl. My goood fuckin’ girl.”

Oh, there’s no doubt in your fractured mind right now that Geto Suguru was an alpha. Inhaling his deep puffs of contentment, you’re arching your back mindlessly in delight. Throat loosening with the motions to-

“Don’t swallow.”

So mean.

You don’t think you’re given the split-second to wonder otherwise before he’s grappling for the pretty column of your throat and kissing you raw.

You’re gasping when his depraved tongue smacks down between the seam of your mouth to lather in every scorching hot mess of sap he’d left behind. The mess that he made. And he was only making it messier.

Watching you through barely-cracked open pupils while he scooped up the sticky webs of seed dangling from your mouth. Scratchy buds taking over. A kiss so filthy that you felt shy to even call it that.

“Mmm—” Geto’s skidding his tongue down the buttered length of his lips, flicking over any stray droplets he could find. And something in his eyes told you that he was mere seconds away from doing it all over again. “Not bad for a first kiss.”

Fuck- what?

“Sugu- what-” You’re panting out measly syllables through the gaps of his sappy mouth. “I-I thought you’d be more…”

“What? A heh- bumbling loser?” His eyes narrow down at you, words purring sexily. “Oh, gorgeous…”

Fuck, and if the rasping growl in his tone didn’t shut you up, the way that Geto’s throwing you onto the bouncy bed sure does.

He doesn’t have a care in the world, he doesn’t have a single thought other than ripping off your flimsy clothes. Everything but those very same cherry pink panties you’d teased up at him, well- more see-through than anything right now.

Kneeing apart your jittery legs to watch the way your cunt gushes in pure need. Lips curling into a leer at the way she winks up at him through filthy masses of slick.

“Sh-she’s mine now, isn’t she?” Rumbling out, eyes wide. Unfocused. And the look on Geto’s face made white-hot trills sprint down your spine - ones you couldn’t decode between primal need and fear. “She’s…”

Ptwah!

The vicious goblet of spit that hits you this time is somehow even meaner than the last, striking at the very top of your sobbing pussy and disappearing riiiight between your folds.

“Mine.” Awestruck, Geto bullies one capped knee to smooch up against your slit. Gleaming his heated skin with the bucketloads of cute sap that you kept pouring out by the second. Geto was greedy, he was grunting. “Beg for it, omega.”

You’re squirming underneath him impatiently, clawing all over his unmoving wrists. You ached all over for something. Anything. “Don’t- don’t wanna-”

But Geto had ten times your strength and wasn’t afraid of using it. Oh, he wasn’t afraid of using it - wasn’t afraid of pinning down both your trembly hands on the bed springs with one of his. Rutting his knee up even more mercilessly, murking his pheromones until it burned of salt and spice. “Beg.”

You mewl, “P-please-”

“No stuttering.”

“Please.” And if that wasn’t enough, you’re batting your lacquered lashes up at Geto in exactly the way you knew was his weakness. Exactly the way that got you the second-highest GPA for so long. Jutting your back the perfect curvature off of the bed, “I’ll let you k-keep my panties, Suguru—?”

“Oh, giiiirl—” He husks out, leaning in so close to plant a yearning snog on your mouth. Blushing pink lips wrapping around your tongue and sucking. You always got what you wanted. “M’keeping those regardless.”

In his special drawer for all your slutty underwear, of course.

And just as soon as Geto’s kissing your lips, he’s trekking his way downwards to make sure that your other ones don’t feel left out.

“Look at her.” He breathes, words taking on an airy tone that makes him sound as if he was furious. Blistering with the anger that he’s been deprived of the heavenly proximity of your soft, seeping cunt for so long. “H-heh, if o-only those tch- popular friends of yours could see. Just look- look how wet she is f’me. All me.”

A fattened thumb fringes past your panties, and you flinch at the cold press of his silver rings. Rovering all the way to greet your puffy pussylips in languid drags uuuuup and down, pricking his manicured fingernail on the button of your clit.

Geto’s hooded lids widen, heat rushing all over his cheeks at the sloppy squelches he draws out. So easily. Adorably.

And it was true - he did have a tattoo. A splashing inking of a dragon all across Geto’s muscled back, somehow making him even more unintentionally hotter.

“And look how loud mmm–” He’s kissing the mound of your folds like a lover, lingering. Loving. Stealing deeeeep gasps of your scent, “M’gonna ruin you. Ngh- ohhh, m’gonna r-ruin you, gorgeous. Ruin ya for anyone else.”

And when Geto meant he was going to ruin you - he meant it.

“Shit.” He was going to mush his pretty features up into your sopping wet pussy until you could feel every minute, warm pant. Staring right up into the target of your fuzzy heart-eyes, “How do you- how do you taste so good.”

Every gasp he’s drinking in of your murked perfumed pheromones, showering ‘round every sense and making him dizzy.

“Squeeze- wanna feel-”

And maybe it’s his rut, maybe it’s the way your tension was so thick - but you instantaneously know what to do.

To close your legs in a deadlock around Geto’s oily scalp. Your weighty eyelids bat up and down subconsciously at the attractive way he was digging his bulging biceps into the sides of your thighs. Pulling you in closer and closer and closer. “That turns you on, huh?”

But that wasn’t all- oh, that wasn’t what he was making out with your cute cunt and begging for.

His mouth lathers over with a fresh bout of watery spit the moment your rubbery ring of muscle clench all around him. Making every ridge of his hot tongue catch on your gooey innards, the texture of it enough to drive you positively wild.

“Sh-shiiit–” You’re letting out a primal groan, clawing at his tattooed back. Chest shuddering underneath the strain of one powerful hand pinning you down. Holding you painfully still. “Suguru- want more. More.”

Slipping his slick tongue in and out of your fluttery hole, Geto keens at the way your entrance kept on trying to suck him back in.

“Fuckin’ know-” In one second, he’s pushing his cloudy glasses up his nose, and in the other he pries apart your puffed lips and caresses. “Yer turning into a fucking w-waterpark, dirty girl. Even wetter than all that p-porn I learned from…”

You’re whimpering, legs falling further n’ further open until it burned your inner quads. No matter how deeply Geto stuffed his face between them it just wouldn’t be enough.

It was almost as if…

“Heat.” He’s slurring a looong lap of his grooved tastebuds all over the lustre of your sweet, sweet juices. Free hand wrapping at his favorite position around your neck and making sure to angle your head so that you catch the twinkling droplets of slick pouring down his tongue. “You’re in heat, little omega.”

Gasping, “W-what?”

But it made sense. It was falling into place and that only made you wetter.

With a smirk, Geto swats your hands until they tangle into his silken tresses. “Lemme take care of you.” SWAT! The plapping sensation hits you before the realization that he’d run his crowned digits over to spank your perked clit. “Ngh- just sit tight n’ let your nerdy ol’ Sugu here take g-goood care of you.”

He was pleading with you - begging you - to latch onto his pretty locks and grind your pussy in repeated gyrations all over his face. Guiding him, using the hook of his pert nose as the perfect ridge to rest your throbbing clit on.

“Th-thank you, alpha—” Too good. You were giving into something baser, to let your head loll into the cushy pillow behind you in sweeping motions. And it was so cute he could cum.

“Yeah? Who- who?”

“You, Suguru.”

“Damn right.”

With every drag of his hoarse syllables, Geto was trawling his face across every inch between the beautiful legs that you had to offer.

Purposefully.

You’re holding back his endless, inky strands just to admire how pretty he looked. How ravenous. Greedy.

Fuck, Geto was making up for all these years he spent parched. Spitting out streak after streak of spittle that made your pussy pour out all over his snogging mouth. “Gonna- gonna fuck you like this w’my cock next.”

His tongue folds into your slobbery hole and slithers into every tender orifice - so staggeringly long that you were feeling a lump in your own throat.

Just a few flops into your earliest magical spots and Geto could already hear the way you were fighting to hide your little sobs.

“Th-this right here-” He’s probing a finger underneath the panties that stuck to your cunt like adhesive, letting it spring back to hit you with a smack! Tittering at your yelp, “S’mine.”

Rubbing a fat few crowns of his fingerpads at the tender area underneath the base of your pussy. Pressing down. Hard. “And her? All the w-way from here-”

Drawing sensual patterns up, up uuuup all the way to your sensitive clit, and oh- it felt so right to have him draw sultry little hearts on your weepy hood.

Tugging it over to nip underneath one sharp canine - one that you swear had grown even longer in the last few minutes. Geto was gone in the depths of his rut, hallowing out his cheeks to eat you out as if he was a man starved. And you were his favorite dessert. “To here? S’mine, too.”

RIIIIIP—!

Through your glossy heaps of tears, you can make out the fuzzy shapes of Geto tearing your satiny underwear into tatters. Balling it up into a wad of sugarcoated fabric that he unapologetically stuffs in your drivelling mouth.

“Gonna add these t-to my collection.” You feel him smile against the outer edges of your claggy cunt, tittering at the stupid way your overspilling lips slacken with a soggy pwah! You’re hearing and feeling a long-winded woooosh from below once he takes a deeeep breath in with his over-delicate senses. “Th-thereeee we go. Cum all over my mouth, gorgeous.”

And if you were in any better state of mind perhaps you’d have noticed the way that Geto’s driving his hips into the bed like a damn dog when he sensed your scent peaking. Sensed you getting closer.

Ragged breaths striking your quivering pussy mercilessly and making your teeth sink desperately into the muggy jumble of underwear in your mouth.

Your broken moans burst out even through that particular watergate, right along with a slithery trickle of saliva and a huff of “S-Suguru—” Craning your head to watch his nostrils flare with knowing, “Close- clo- cumming.”

Eyes flashing. Heart thumping not just within your rib cage.

When it rains, it pours.

But you weren’t just pouring - you were flooding.

Such glutinous ropes of your orgasm, it sprays Geto’s sexy face in squirts. Clinging onto the edge of his glasses and forming little puddles right at the apples of his high cheeks.

Suddenly, you were oh-so-thankful for the way he’d stuffed your mouth mercilessly full - because by the rusted rasp in your throat, you’re sure you’re singing out shrill trills loud enough that his neighbors would file a noise complaint.

But that was the last thing on his mind.

The last thing- well, fuck, it wasn’t on his mind at all. Geto’s cooing at how unstable you feel, treacherous fingers mazing across your fat clit and giving her a goood few pushes just the way he would with his gameboys.

“Good girl-” he spits into your gapingly widened cunt, still suffering from the remnant tremors of your high and still slopping out wads of juices. Like a mantra, Geto’s dark brows scrunch in concentration, “Good girl good girl gooood fucking girl.”

Words hitching up into something shrill near the edge, he sounded as if he was fraying his sanity with every droplet of slick you pumped into his mouth. With every single second.

Pushing his aching hot cock deeper and deeper into the sullied sheets. More. He needed more.

Every sloppy swivel of your widely pried-apart pussy on his tongue made him leave an open-palmed smack! on your thigh. Other hand traipsing to pin your hips down with his big, vein-decorated forearm.

He doesn’t want to let go.

You’re barely letting off a whine at the lack of friction before Geto lets his mouth depart from your cunt with a soggy pwah! Leaving a final few French kisses on his favorite sweet orifice, he’s pecking a loooong open-mouthed pathway up to your loosened maw.

“Good girl…” He hiccups, clammy forehead sticking against yours. Each syllable struggles to wrench past the leaden ball slowly forming on Geto’s mouth.

The syrup-glazed lenses of his glasses clash into you, and Geto himself seems to notice. “Look what a fuckin’ mess ya made.” He’s gruffing out at the thick topping of oozing gloss that made the frame impossible to see through.

Immediately pulling back a few millimeters to take them off and dump them on your own nose bridge. Unceremoniously.

And it was so wet.

Almost as wet as Geto’s features were - all showered in gunky dredges of glistening sap. It streaks all the way from his pointed chin and up to his handsome cheekbones. Beads of it hitting your panting chest in a pat! pat! pat!

Heaving out a shaky exhale, he’s pushing away a few elegant strands of charcoal bangs.

“M’gonna…m’gonna fuck you now.” Sounding more as if he was talking to himself rather than you. Or perhaps both. Puffy folds being rubbed all raw with the depraved back and forth of his veiny under-shaft. “Gonna fuck you. So take it- take it.”

Geto stares deep into your whirling eyes while he sinks his hefty cock into you just as thoroughly. A clingy film sticks to his gaze, dazed and all half-hooded that you wondered if he could even register what was in front of him.

Crazed.

And he’s such a fucking tease, too.

Creating a slimy trail of pasty pre all over your weakened inner thighs, he drags his bawling divot all over every stretch of your entrance. Around and around in circles.

“B-big, huh? Better take it b-before I- make it- fit-” He’s echoing, dimples peaking out at the cute way your breath hitches once you feel the sheerly massive circumference of his fat tip. “Shhhh shh sh, s’alright- s’where you’re m-meant to ngh- be.”

Even for an alpha, he was always staggering - but having him stuffing you to the brim would be a whole other feeling. Would have you ruined.

You’re peering up at him through humid lashes, borrowed glasses smearing wet splotches of slick underneath your skin. Eventually, those panties had found themselves spilling out of your unfastened jaw, “Meant to- hah! be?”

“Mhmmm— pretty omega.” You’re hit with a sudden wave of coaxing pheromones, the gentle salty breeze making your hips buck subconsciously upwards. Subconsciously aching. “This s’where you’re ngh- meant to be.”

And as much as Geto loved hearing whiny questions bubble their way up to your spit-layered lips, oh- was it so much more fun to eye down at your speechless self when he snugly squeezes just a mere sensual inch.

Leaning back to watch the way his bustling cock was stretching and stretching and stretching your tender walls flawlessly. You were taking him so ridiculously well.

“Fuh-fuck you-” His plush pecs rumble with his bass from above, words tumbling. Hips rolling. And Geto was fucking gone- staring at you with wide, humorless eyes that you doubt were even seeing. “Fuck you- m’fucking you…fuck you fuck you fuck!”

With every sharp fah! being whirled into your loose mouth, Geto rubs his puffed-up veins into the tender mound of your cunt. You can’t help but count every rapid ba-dump—! his achy length throbs.

Desperately. Rutting and rutting just to fit himself inside.

Around the time he’s only halfway in, Geto circles one hand over his drenched base to skid taut O’s at the edge of your hole. Nudging his fat girth past your entrance and keening-

“M-more!” You’re barking out primally, your tongue tied into all sorts of bows and ribbons with the way this stretch was searing. And it was the best sort of tight fit, you were practically drooling all over again at the fleshy thwack! of Geto’s rounded balls smacking your thighs. “More, Sugu—”

“M-more…?”

It wasn’t just you - your luna needed more, too.

You’re nodding and nodding- only to realize with a harsh muffle of Geto’s palm over your noisy mouth that he wasn’t even talking to you.

No, he was tittering away in a small sort of voice. Octaves higher. Strained. Goosebumps smatter all across your skin at the way he sounded so unstable.

“More…” Irises flashing a glowy purple, fingers twitching where he held you. A loser like him. A nerd like him. “M-more she says.”

Fuck.

Without another word - without another breath - Geto’s flipping you around with only one beefy palm clawing at your hip. Shoving your face deep into the puff of his nerdy pillows, he’s bottoming out with just one thrust-

You think you scream, you think you bawl once you feel his plummy mushroom head draw a long line of pre along the insides of your cervix. And your pussy felt so full you could burst, your walls crushed with all overpacked inches of his.

Finally.

“Thaaaat’s it, that’s it-” He’s grunting through furiously clenched teeth, a hand crowning the back of your scalp and muffling your words into the bed. Hard. Fuck- he was going to pass out if you made another pretty sound. “S’where you belong.”

Ah, there it is - that little broken prayer.

Except, this time it was being respired in boiling hot pants against the tips of your ears. Was being wheezed out of Geto when he lurches his sweat-simmered hips back to hit your ass with a resounding pap!

“All f-fucked dumb on my ngh- biiig fucking cock, hm?” He tilts your head up with one hand, smiling to himself once he catches a glittery flash of spit leaking from your lips. “All…” A warm splatter! strikes your back, and only then do you realize that he’s slobbering. “Mine.”

And where Geto was talking all possessively - he was fucking you even more so.

In the blink of an eye, he’s planting two sets of fingers on either of your wrists and pulling all the way back, back, back. A length foot being placed right at the small of your spine to get you to bend in a delicious arch-

“Fuck!” Your cute voice rings hoarse, like music to his blushing ears. Struggling to regain the gasps of air leaving your lungs, “There- th-there.”

Oh, shit.

The way Geto was manhandling you was not only bending you in all sorts of lecherously pliable ways that had your slit dripping, it was making his rotund cockhead stub oh-so-viciously into your cervix.

Rough. Probing.

“H-heh, guess I lost my first kiss there, too.” He’s giggling out, biting down on the rugged mewls that threaten to depart every time your cunt swallows him whole. “Congrats on being my ngh- first, little omega— yer e-even better than my ngh- bodypillows of you.”

Bending you over ever-deeper, honestly- your walls were cloying onto him so desperately that it was making Geto’s heart pang with disappointment every time his ruddied tip recoiled back from the bottom of your sloppy pussy.

He wanted to be this close to you forever.

Treacling out stringy wads of pre, he’s furrowing brows and making sure each n’ every jackhammer fills you up impossibly.

You can barely grapple for air at this point, the sloshes of syrup left after each barrelling strike leaving you star-struck.

He grins, “Shit, d-do ya ever stop fuckin’ drooling? Gonna hafta call the f-fire department, girl.”

“Can’t help it–!” All you can do it let your mouth unlatch to warble whimper after whimper–

“C’mon now, gorgeous- aren’t ya ashamed?” Licking his lips free of your taste, Geto diverts more pressure to his foot. Hefty balls rippling wickedly against the sobbing end of your slit with just how easy you were to throw around like his favorite toy. Like his favorite figurines. “Look at what a mess yer making. Being fucked so f-filthy. And I haven’t even ngh- found it, yet.”

Haven’t found it. Oh, but he knew he was going to. He was going to make you scream.

Your syrupy whines slip into something desperate, “Y-you don’t know…?”

“Of course I f-fuckin’ know. Who d’ya think you’re ngh talking to?” As if you could forget you were being thoroughly pounded by the smartest person on campus right now. And evidently the filthiest, too.

A ringed finger treks down to your sensitive nub, soothing over where you were throbbing the most violently. Cute. Lulling you into a sweet, sweet state of bliss before Geto pinches–

“Oh p-please!” You’re targeting your hazy vision over your shoulder, and somewhere along the lines Geto’s spectacles had slid cleanly off of you. Toes curling as his bloated head bludgeons just the creamy edges near your g-spot. “Please- y-you’re so close, Suguru-”

You didn’t know whether it was your heat or just Geto that had you so desperate. Your sparkless mind blames the latter.

“Am I?” He hums, leaning over so that the soft tendrils of his hair tickled your back.

Whacking his painfully achy crownhead mere centimeters below your magical spots, and you’re starting to think he’s doing this on purpose.

Geto starts holding it there for lingering French snogs into the steamy inner depths of your cunt and then you know he’s doing this on purpose. Spitting in your mouth with a smile.

That mean bastard.

Jittering your hips to chase the texture of his curly pubic hair against your ass, he snickers. “Are you ngh- suuuure? You haven’t done a s-single one of your ngh- human biology essays lately, dirty girl.”

You’re molding your lips into a pout - difficult, with just how many loads of saliva were pouring out of you and cementing a puddle onto the Digimon pillows. “F-fuck you.”

“No…” You set free a gasp of air you didn’t know you were holding the very second he lets go of the rough foot anchoring your spine, instead- in only mere nanoseconds you find yourself jerked up into Geto Suguru’s hold with a hand at your throat. Back gluing against his glissading abs, even his voice was unbalanced and trembling now. “I’m fucking you, little omega.”

And you were about to remember it.

With an immediate pitch of his gasping breaths, Geto’s angled hips go from steadily ruined to sloppy. Calculated.

He didn’t care if he made a mess of stringy slick that circled in the satiny sheets around the two of you, he didn’t care if your eyes were bulging out of their poor sockets when his pronounced hips dig into your backside with blistering bruises.

He didn’t care for anything but digging the curled fringe of his fatly bloated tip right into the target of your g-spot.

Mazing through your gluey folds and keeping them snugly open with his reddened girth, Geto knocks your sweetest spots with vengeance.

“There–!” You call out, as if he hadn’t already felt the gooey seize of your pussy trying to hold him hostage.

His mouth trudges over your throat, fingers roaming over to give your clit a nice few pinches. Meaningfully, “Here? Orrrr–” Punctuating each word, each second with a thorough drilling into your g-spot. “-here? Make up th-that ditzy lil’ mind. Seriously.”

Your head drunkenly crashes on top of his collarbone and stays there, “R-right here- there. Both, Sugu.”

“Again with the f-fucking Sugu-” Geto snarls out, though you can sense by his cloudy scent that he was anything but irritated with you.

Your whines had quietened down into something more of an incoherent mess, and the main things ringing in Geto’s ears right now were the creaky protests of his bed and the clammy plops of his thrusts.

“C’mon now— where’s my bossy fuck! omega? The one who loves her poor, nerdy Sugu?”

Arousal reaching a peak, and now that he’d found your g-spot, he was probing into it with fat thuds. Not just once or twice. Nooooo, it was over and over and-

“Just w-wanna cum—” you’re sobbing out. Jerking your body like a bobble-head up and down to further feel the drag of his Herculean form behind you, to savor each ridge and sculpted curve sweatily massaging your back. “P-pleeeeease, Suguru. Let me cum?”

Swerving his tensing hips out alllll the way back to leave solid smooches ‘round your pussy entrance each and every time, and then there were the squelches-

Oh, you were just flooding a slippery sheen all over his hefty, swelling base. A viscid luster of slick that glided all the way down to drip off of his sack n’ between his legs.

Your eyes manage to snatch themselves open- hissing at the realization that it was pooling especially around that particularly ballooned-up ring right over Geto’s breeder balls.

Was that? With a shiver you’re rutting backwards, feeling for yourself the slow drag of his proud knot. Bigger than any else you’ve ever seen. It was.

You rasp, throat itchy and raw. Sweltering droplets of tears streaming down your cheeks when he matches the stuttering beat of your heart with every pressurized push- “P-please.”

“Needy thing. Cum, huh?” Geto drawls out, voice thick with need and something else you were too stupid to register right now. He collides you even tighter against rippling pecs. Taking the sweet, sweet opportunity to poke his nose into your scent gland and steal a looooong breath of your overdriven pheromones.

“Cum then, c-cum. Fucking cum all over my cock.”

Fuck, it’s with those exact words in mind that you do.

Startling straight headfirst into your high - and you don’t think you’ve even crashed into one wave of bliss before the other overtakes you. And another. And another-

“Oh g-god—” You’re trilling, only held up by the ruthless grip that Geto was maintaining. His hips were deep, and your pleasure even deeper. “-please. Please- please, Sugu-”

He’s hunching over your body ever-so-slightly, resting your thighs against his thick, flexing ones. Only bending you over to kiss your g-spot even more sinfully, Geto’s response comes out ragged into your lobes. “Tch, wh-what now?”

His ruby-red tip was blushing like a strawberry and just as plump - swirling around your treasure trove of spots, pounding you through each peak of your orgasm until you saw stars.

“Cum i-insiiiide-” Your barely-audible groans spring out into the heady air, adding to its hypnotic mix of perfumes. And it’s not just the heat that made you crave Geto carnally, every pap! against the puffy ring at his base making you crave more more more- “Want it a-all up…”

You’re trailing off, melted mind unable to do multiple things at once.

With tottering fingerpads, you’re trapping one of his palms underneath your own. Homing itself right above where his rounded tip was stretching open your insides, right above your womb.

“H-here, okay? Don’t miss-”

You blink up at him and Geto thinks he might just be having a heart attack. Sparks fizzing around his sloshed brain, “Fuh-fuuuuck– don’t talk out of yer pussy, gorgeous.” He spanks your clit once. Twice just to watch your eyes glaze over stupidly. “Or m’gonna get you pregnant.”

Soothing over that faint bulge he was fucking into your tummy, “Gonna h-have my baby growing allll up in here. Make you round and…” His voice sounds faint, whispering. “-big and…glowing. And…and pregnant.”

But, ah- you never did make it easy for him. Did you? Always had to have your way.

Which Geto Suguru gladly gave.

“But I want that, Sugu—” You pout, “Wan’ your knot…please?”

You didn’t have to say another word before Geto’s finishing off in such a messy way, reaching the biggest fucking orgasm he’s had in his entire life. The strongest. The most heavenly and oh- oh, were you an angel?

He’s collapsing onto the drenched sheets before he knows it, pinning you down with the strong v-line of his hips.

“Shit-” Geto emits through the cracks in his bitten canines. “Shit shit shit- shit-”

You don’t know who’s losing their mind more, you or him. Falling into the well of a second, third, perhaps even fourth orgasm with how blissfully his fattened, split-ended cock bruised every nook of your adhesive-like walls.

Your saliva cascades in puddles that soak the pillows through. “Suguruuu— a-are you okay-”

“Do I look okay?”

Sexily ridged abs kneading your back, hands scrambling on the mattress, inked shoulders shivering. His swollen knot hits and hits your pussymound.

And it’s only once his trembly fingers latch around his glasses - fumbling, dropping it copious times before Geto manages to push them haphazardly onto his face.

Tilting his head back just enough degrees to watch as the curved fringe of his knot disappears past your puffy folds.

“There we- there…” He’s driveling clingy wads of translucent saliva, letting the stray pouring excess hit your fluttering hole with a splat! One eager thumb of Geto’s hooks into your entrance and bullies it aside to let his incredible perimeter sink iiiiiiiiin-

He’s melting into you now, spent. Ruined. “Get pregnant.” Geto whispers into your sweat-glossed shoulder blade once he feels the back of his knot get fully enveloped into your pussy with a gummy pop! Once he feels himself finally tip over- “Get pregnant.”

And it’s not just mindless babbling - it’s a promise.

A promise that he rasps out time and time against with every wadded slip of seed that dollops out across your cervix. Pushing it so deep. Smearing acres of ribbony streaks all over your most precious orifices and spots.

“Gonna know wh-what we did.” Geto whimpers, shit- he couldn’t pound his voluminous ounces of cum into you as aggressively as he wanted with this damn knot. “Entire campus. Professors. Everyone’s gonna know ngh- how I fucked ya full. F-fucked you pregnant. Gonna wonder.”

But that didn’t stop him from trying.

That didn’t stop him from wrenching out a hand to squeeze the ends of your sopping wet slit, forcing down on his very knot. Squeezing out so many numerous dredges of syrupy white cum that thwack! thwack! thwacks! a filthy second skin against your walls.

“Fuh-fuuuuck— get pregnant, gorgeous.” He’s rutting. Grinding. Humping you like some beast more than man. “Gonna l-look at you all round n’ big and see me- me me me. Get pregnant get pregnant get-”

Geto’s mouth parts at the pearly dewdrops of seed that leak from the overstuffed ends of your cunt. He can feel his entire body twitch, can feel his sharpened teeth lacquer so rabidly.

He still wasn’t done.

Still letting one prespired forearm of his dangle around your neck, manhandling you into a fucking headlock. The other tracing the edges of his digits over your glands, squeezing until your skin was all tender and raw.

And puffy.

Perfect for him to tilt his head and bite—

“Ohhh- yes!” Every fibre of your being delights at the way Geto’s biting you so hard that you can smell crimson iron. Your pheromone bubble pops! to mix together with his own. Becoming one. And you can scent him - you can feel him.

Glasses clashing, teeth tearing. Before you know it, you’re doing the same. “Suguruuuu— m’yours.”

Your mate latches onto the curves of your hips - your soon-to-be birthing hips.

And the way Geto rediscovers that - tucking his face into the ruined, drenched fabric of those cherry pink panties and taking an endless, husky sniff - tells you that this was going to be a long, loooong night.

“Mine.”

A/N. MMMMMMMMM NERD GETOOOOOOOO

Plagiarism not authorized.

#geto x reader #geto smut #geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #gojo x reader #tonywrites

16K notes · View notes