#Suguru drabble

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; gn!reader

every once in a while, suguru lets you have all the power.

down on his knees, he stares up at you with dark eyes; there's a grin plastered onto his face, the very same one that got him into this situation in the first place, and nothing that you're doing is making it go away.

(every once in a while, he lets you think you have all the power.)

his hands are behind his back with the material of his own tie digging into the sensitive skin of his wrists but he doesn't mind the pain. he loves it. the first few buttons of his dress shirt are undone and a few blooming bruises peek from under the garment. the contrast between his skin and the splotches of color are tantalizing, it's making your mouth water and your teeth itch – the need to add more to the canvas that sits before you is clouding your mind and he knows it.

despite being the one that's tied up, suguru continues to push your buttons.

he's insufferable. he's rude. he's fucking annoying.

he's gorgeous. he's beautfiul. he's fucking exceptional.

you want to hurt him. you want to kiss him.

and he knows.

his cheek burns a bright pink shade while the inside of your hand prickles with the most delicious kind of pain. strands of hair have fallen from behind his ears and are now keeping you from having his eyes on you and that won't do. slowly reaching out, you tuck it back where it came from, your fingers brush against his skin and you feel the warmth exuding from him. you press your tingling palm against his cheek and watch how he leans into your touch; the corners of his lips tug even further and he morphs into the wolf that he really is – his sharp teeth glint from behind the grin as his eyes narrow in on you. there's a comment, a sly tease, ready to fall from his tongue, you can see it so clearly—

a second slap echoes through your shared home.

the words dissolve in his mouth as he hums at you instead. his head is now turned away from you by an inch, the impact of your hand strong enough to actually do some damage. suguru bites down onto his lip while slowly cracking open his eyes, his gaze even darker now. he licks his lips and you catch sight of the little steel piercing that hides in mouth.

trying to win the silent battle of dominance, you tilt your chin up high but when you see suguru pressing his thighs together, you almost crumble entirely. he's so hard that even just the mere thought of his cock makes your mouth salivate.

you think about big of a mess he must be making under all the layers, you think about how full his balls are. you think about all the things he might do to you the second you untie him.

"don't tell me that was your worst, sweetheart... "

his voice is like something crafted perfectly just to make you weak in the knees, there's no resisting it. it's like honey, sweet and sticky, and—

a third slap.

you can't let him do this to you. this is your fucking moment.

his cheek burns brighter than ever, the ache under his skin shooting waves of pleasure all over his body and all he's willing to give you is another hum. it comes from somewhere deep within, desperately crawling out from inside him as if he couldn't contain it anymore. but it feels so good. it's so fucking good and he hates to admit it; he hates how he has no control over his body – his thighs press together all on their own, his brain focused on relieving the pain between his legs at any cost.

when suguru's head falls forward and he lets out a raspy laugh, you freeze. you can hear your own heart beat in your ears and you can feel the blood pumping in your veins.

and when he cranes his neck to peer at you from under his brow, you feel like you're going to faint. he's going to eat you, he's going to devour you. he's going to ruin you.

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Kawasaki W800: flashing lights

Contents: 18+ mdni, huge foreplay, teasing, mostly fluffy, also wrote this high so again dunno how much sense this makes lol, not proofread

“No way.”

You’re staring at a motorcycle. It’s black and sleek and looks like a beast. The seat is low, none of the motorcycles you’ve seen look like that, but the handles are like horns, devilish and intimidating. Exuding danger, you note that every part, every piece of metal, looks heavy, expensive and merciless. If you were to touch the wrong thing, it’ll scar you. 

It’s a death trap. 

And your boss is leaning against it, smiling at you. 

“Come on, let’s go for a ride, pretty.”

You shake your head really fast, like a cartoon character. There’s no freaking way you’ll get on that thing; there’s no doors or seatbelts, and you’re not built to crash. You don’t even ride a bicycle, how could you possible be expected to board its rowdier, more reckless and wild cousin?

Suguru’s pressing his lips together to stifle a laugh. You’re backing away, lips slightly parted and brows furrowed. It’s a look of pure fear and you’ve never looked more endearing, he thinks. 

Pushing off, he stalks over to you, grabbing your scarf, which is really his but it looks better on you, and keeping you in place. You both have to bend your necks to meet each other’s eyes, and it reminds you of that time in his office. A moment that keeps you up at night, leaves your gasping and dreaming of more. 

He peels the scarf, the soft material grazing your chin, and he pushes it down with two fingers, revealing the smooth expanse of your neck. It’s bruised. When those very fingers brush over that tender flesh, you tense, breath lodged in your throat. 

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” His voice is low, just above a whisper, a sweet cradle as he scrutinises your face for any signs he had gone too far. He finds none. If anything, you wished he had gone farther.

You shake your head. “No, I’m okay. It was nice.”

Huffing a laugh, he wraps you back up, untucking your hair from the back and pulling your jacket close. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

Your heart drops. He distracted you from the torture you’re about to face. Curse that handsome face. And when you try to pull away, his soft hands turn firm. 

Tutting, he gives you a warning look. 

“But Suguru, it looks so scary!”

Brushing an errant hair from your face, he gives you that soothing smile, the one that makes you feel like all is well and nothing could ever hurt you. But then you glance back at that monstrous creation and you don’t believe him anymore. 

Grasping your shoulders, he brings you closer, somehow managing to pull you as you dig your heels. The thing looks like it bites. 

Waving a hand at the bike, he says, “Tamamo, meet my pretty girl. Pretty, meet Tamamo.”

Whether from pure fear or sheer stupidity, you wave at the bike. He’s named it. Your boss gave his bike a name. Maybe you’re all insane. You don’t want to admit it, however, but the longer you stare at the bike, the less frightening it looks. The seat actually looks pretty comfy. 

Hanging off a handle is a helmet, you let him place it on your head and you’re sure you look stupid: big puffer jacket, face covered by a scarf that smells like burnt oak, and a matte black helmet with colourful stickers of rock bands and random cartoons and landmarks. 

Suguru, on the other hand, has his hair up in a bun, one loose lock falling over his forehead, and he’s wearing a leather jacket. The material stretches over his broad shoulders, hugging him so deliciously you can’t help but reach out to feel it. He’s fastening the strap under your chin and you’re skimming your hand on his chest. 

He smiles at you and then grips your wrist, thumb brushing the skin before he tightens his hold. 

“Good girls ask before touching, yes?”

You nod. 

It’s like he’s hypnotised you; you’re cursed to find whatever he says beautiful because he’s beautiful. And that giddy feeling he’s invoked in your chest makes you grin. “Can I touch you, Suguru?”

“Quickly,” is all he says, but you don’t miss the look of pride that flashes in his eyes. 

You push the opening of his jacket wider, placing your cold hands on his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin seep through. That should be enough, that’s much further than you should go with your boss, but it feels too goo, too right. Your hands falls and they creeping up his shirt. Skin on skin, you breathe out, mesmerised by the flex of his abs. 

“Fuck!” He hisses. “Your hands are cold, angel.”

You mutter an apology, but you don’t move. You’re enjoying the hard ridges of his body too much to do so. A beat or two passes and you know your time is up, but just before he says somethings, one hand flies up to brush against a particular part of his body you’ve been curious about since the day in his office when his chest was pressed to your back. 

Metal.

“You could have just asked,” he teases. There’s not a hint of surprise on his face, but there is a red tint on the tips of his ears. “Alright, you’ve been pampered enough, shall we?”

Well, you did just grope the man, the least you could is ride him. His bike, you mean. His bike. There would be no riding of men, especially not when you established your boundary and insisted on taking it slow. 

He climbs on first, revving the engine, and the roar makes you flinch. It’s so loud, it’s the only sound in the otherwise quiet street. This is your chance to escape, to make a run for it whilst he’s not looking, but the way his legs are spread, the tight jeans are hugging his thick thighs, you want to see where this goes. 

So, you grasp his shoulder and saddle the motorcycle, body pressed tight against his. Your hands are clutching his jacket, thighs against his, and he reaches his arms back to pull you even closer. Arms wrapped around his waits now, you cling on for dear life, his torso your only anchor. 

“Ready, pretty?”

When you nod against his back, he zooms off. 

Wind rushes against your face, nipping at your skin, sharp and chilling. But his warmth washes away the freezing sensation, the vibrations warming your thighs too as the engine is pushed to its limits. The world is a blur around you, hard to even tell where you are and what street you’re going down, but you trust Suguru.

Heart pumping faster than it ever has been, your hands clutch at him tighter, creasing the material of his shirt. Every lean, every turn, every acceleration, every roar of the engine sends a thrill through you, adrenaline shooting through your veins. It’s all so reckless and carefree, but as you watch his careful twists and turns, you know he could go even faster, could amp it up to make himself feel the thrill, but he doesn’t. 

Somehow he knew just how much to give you until you’re lightheaded and a breathless laugh is escaping you from the pure exhilaration. 

Your boss always knows. 

There’s a fluidity in his movements, as if he knows these roads like the back of his hands, it reminds you of his artistry as a tattoo artist — the way his wrists flick in controlled and precise movements, needles angled just right to get crisp, thin lines, casting shadows and light where his eyes sees them. 

He’s bringing the streets to light. 

And you’re his accomplice. 

You’ve never been more elated. As you watch the city pass by, you realise your cheeks are hurting; you’ve been grinning nonstop, eyes wide and trying to take it all in: the flashing lights, the streaks and blurs of pedestrians, cars rolling to a stop or waiting in traffic, that smell of smoke and gasoline filling your nostrils. 

If your sister could see you, she’d collapse, though not before she snitches to your parents, that’s for sure. 

Somehow, none of that matters, not when his body is keeping you tethered, reminding you this is real, that you’re not flying off into space or disappearing into dreamland. You’re here, with him, and there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. 

A red light. 

You stand in traffic, the engine quieter now, but purring beneath you. Suguru’s fingers taps the back of your hand and you know, without the need for words, that he’s asking if you’re okay. You squeeze tighter in an affirmative. And then, almost like you can’t help yourself, you bite his back. It’s a light nibble, really, and you don’t know why you do it. His back is just so wide and firm. It’s unlikely he even felt anything but a light pressure through the layers. 

Suguru grips your thigh, pinching in warning. You tighten your thigh’s grip around him, too. And as you both wait for the lights to change, you lean against his back, enjoying his warmth and his comforting scent, as he continues to knead the fat of your thighs. 

Yellow and then green. 

And you’re off again. 

Eventually, he pulls up to your apartment, and you don’t want to let go. Your heart is still beating a hundred miles per hour and you’re so warm and so comfortable, you don’t want to get off. 

He doesn’t say anything. Just drums his fingers against your hand and brushes a thumb against your knee. It’s intimate, and you know how it looks. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re aware you should say goodbye, should place distance between yourself and your boss, but it feels wrong to do so. Holding him is what feels right and you know there’s nothing you’d rather do, even when you’ve got a bunch of homework to do. 

“Enjoy the ride, angel?”

You nod. 

“Let’s use our words, please.”

“It was fun.” Your voice is shaky, the after-effects of the adrenaline creating a tremble that makes him clutch your knee tighter, in a quick pulse. “Thanks for picking me up, Suguru.”

He pats your thigh and promises, “I’ll pick you up whenever you want.”

And you have to know he means it. 

So you raise one hand higher again, this time over his shirt, slip it under his jacket and press it against his chest, right where his heart is. It’s beating fast. Just as fast as yours is. That makes you smile. 

“Are you guys gonna fuck in the streets? Cause if you are, then I’ll throw down a condom.”

You wince. How could you forget your sister’s at home tonight?

You didn’t even check to see if the lights on the 3rd floor were on when you two pulled up, and now she’s leaning over the balcony railing in her oversized shirt and panties, barefoot, hair in curlers, and a green face mask. 

“Well, aren’t you a polite little thing?” Sugar fires back, no real heat in his words, but he is smiling at her with the same smile he gives to mean clients. The one that screams ‘you’re getting in my way’. 

“Polite is reserved for gentlemen. And you, my good sir, are no gentleman. I mean, how dare you!” She’s wagging a finger at him from all the way up there, waking the neighbours, no doubt, as she gives him a proper scolding. “What time is this? This is way too late for my baby sister and you’ve brought her on your stupid motorbike? Which one is this? Daruma?”

You swing your leg and climb down, annoyed by your meddling sister whose voice is shrill and uncaring. She ruined a perfectly beautiful moment and you’re going to steal her pink heels just for that. 

Suguru follows suit, unfastening your helmet as he shouts back, “No, Tamamo.”

“Ah, is that the one Gojo doesn’t like?”

“Yeah, it almost crushed him.”

Free from the helmet, you blush at the realisation that your hair must be a mess. But your boss doesn’t seem to think so as he roves over your features, a small smile, a genuine one, playing on his lips. He fixes your hair, brushing it down and fluffs up your, or rather his, scarf. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

You nod. “Thanks again, Suguru.”

“It was my pleasure, pretty. Go in and get some sleep, you’ve worked hard today.”

You’re about to walk away, body turning, when an urge overwhelms you. Using his jacket as leverage, you tiptoe and press your lips to his. It’s a peck. Not quite as heated as you would have liked, but it’s still nice. It’s sweet and soft and it makes your lips tingle. 

He blinks, then he’s cradling your face in his hands and pressing his lips harder against yours. Fire burns through you, goosebumps rise along your skin, eyes fluttering close. It’s a real kiss. It’s still soft, but as it deepens, there’s sparks intensifying, urging your closer and closer, until there’s not a single atom that isn’t touching his. His hands are firm, keeping your face steady, and he slips one to the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair.

You shiver when he sucks on your bottom lip, his tongue slipping in when you gasp. Each graze is fluid, a careful balance of forward and backwards, of giving and taking, as your tongues dance to a tender music. 

Running out of air, you break the connection, breathing hard and fast as you stare at him. Your lips feel tingly and swollen and you want to go back for more. But he presses a kiss to your forehead instead, brushing your lips with a thumb and then he’s pulling away, almost just as out of breath as you are. 

His hands clench and unclench beside him. 

And with even shakier breath, you whisper, “Goodnight, Suguru.”

“Goodnight, pretty girl.”

“Goodnight, Geto,” your sister mocks from the balcony, voice extra exaggerated as she stands with her back to you both, arms wrapped around her as she mimics your kiss. 

You clench your teeth. 

She’ll never see those pink heels again. 

[wormdevourer]

I relate to this on an unhealthy level,,

(not my tweet)

[sanemistar]

⋅˚₊‧ 𝜗𝜚 loverboy

𝜗𝜚 suguru x gn!reader, fluff 𝜗𝜚 back: jjk m.list

suguru is a freak, your freak. he’s a deranged lover boy who loves you so intensely, so vehemently, so madly. his feelings for you are unwavering and he’s completely devoted to you. he loses all sort of rationality when it comes to loving you, which is quite uncharacteristic of him. he’s always thought he’s a calm and a rational man, but this all changes the moment he starts dating you and the freaky side in him awakens.

suguru, who is extremely possessive of you and can’t bare having any other man to look at you with their prying eyes. whether you know each other or not, he can never allow them to. he will literally start dragging you away if he ever finds any guy staring at you for more than three seconds. because he wants to keep you all to himself, you’re his and only he is given such privilege.

suguru adores everything about you, his eyes shine brightly every time you look at him with that insanely beautiful smile of yours and his heart skips a million beats every time you two share a kiss. he is infatuated with you to the point where he can’t think of anything else but you, he’s simply crazy for you. he loves you with every fiber of his being. his heart and feelings are no longer his properties, he lost control over them long ago. they’re all yours now to keep. his love for you is strong, wild, reckless and fierce, yet so passionate, deep, earnest and real.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat (special tag for ari 🫶🏻)

[ohimsummer]

“i said sit. not hover.”

suguru doesn’t understand why you’re so hesitant. this was your idea, after all. even if you’d initially said it as a joking little remark, he was ecstatic to take you up on the offer.

you huff. “it won’t be hard for you to breathe?”

“does it seem like i care?”

between your thighs, you can tell by the way his eyes narrow that geto is smiling at the newfound pout on your face. “suguru, i don’t want to hurt you.”

he circles soothing thumbs over your hips, softly kneading at the skin. “really, because you’re breaking my heart, angel. so start sitting this pretty ass on my face, right now. properly, like i asked.”

you drift closer to suguru’s awaiting lips. the heat of his breath fans over your cunt. “oh, excuse me for being concerned about my lovely boyfriend’s very eager intentions to suffocate.”

he answers your sarcasm with some sass of his own. “that’s your problem, you care too much. let me taste this pussy already, so i can get rid of all the worry in that darling head of yours.”

😽: @anthoosies @sugulani @deepenthevoid @bubblez-blop @luvvmae @risuola @bunnymacaron @soraya-daydreams @starlightanyaaa @domainexpansionmypants @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @babytoshiii @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @reiluvr @venzlenes @lovesickliyue

[mochroialainn]

This is an 18+ Post | MDNI!

On the days where Satoru is being especially bratty, you and Suguru tie him up to a chair, wrists bound behind him and ankles bound to the legs of the chair (you both know he can easily break out, but he doesn’t because he knows he get an even worse punishment) with a vibrating cock ring on at full power and his blind fold used as a gag. You force him to watch as Suguru gets to bring you to orgasm over and over again with his mouth, his tongue, your vibrator and his cock. He's so painfully overstimulated, tears streaking down his face and his abs sticky with his own cum from all the orgasms the cock ring pulled from him, by the time Suguru cums inside of you. Suguru turns to Satoru with a gentle smile on his face, his voice cooing as he praises him for being a good boy and keeping quiet while the two of you fucked, you both agree that he deserves a reward. So Suguru unties him and removes his blind fold, absolutely drenched with his saliva but he keeps Satorus hands behind his back as he pushes him onto the bed, his face directly into your cunt and forces him to clean up the mess of yours and Sugurus cum up, bringing you to another orgasm as he does, while you both shower him with praise and run your hands gently through his hair.

Once he's done, Suguru runs a bath for you all and you sit in between his legs while Satoru sits between yours, he showers you both with praise and compliments, focusing on Satoru but making sure you also know how well you did. You all help each other bathe, running gentle soapy hands over each others body and cleaninf each others hairs. When you're out and dressed in your pyjamas, Suguru gets Satoru in bed and sets up your shared comfort show/movie while you prepare the snacks (making sure to have plenty of sweets for Satoru). When you finally joing them in bed, Satoru is between the two of you, his head laying gently on your chest as you card your fingers through his hair and Suguru holds him (not paying attention to whats one) and places gentle and loving kisses on his necks and shoulders as he rubs soft circles into his hips and abdomen.

[creamflix]

geto+eggnog(or white drink that looks like eggnog)😏

love u babes

you’ve received a (very unhinged) gift! ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ want to check out other gifts? ・:〃➜ click here! 

“you’ve been hanging out with gojo waaayyyy too much,” you slurred, poking GETO in the chest as you wobbled slightly on his lap. “this is not the man i fell in love with.”

“oh, please,” he replied, voice warm and deep with that faint drawl that made you shiver. “the man you fell in love with was way less fun. you should be thanking satoru for inspiring me.”

“inspiring you to act like an idiot?” you teased, nearly toppling forward, only for him to catch you effortlessly with one arm around your waist.

“careful now,” he murmured, steadying you with a smirk. “can’t have you breaking your face before i ruin you in other ways.”

“you’re drunk,” you accused, leaning back just enough to narrow your eyes at him.

“and you’re sitting on my lap,” he shot back, eyebrow quirking. “so who’s really in control here?”

you laughed, nearly falling again as you tried to balance yourself. it was impossible when he started bouncing his leg beneath you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

“stop that!” you swatted at his shoulder, your own laughter bubbling out uncontrollably.

“why? it’s fun watching you try to stay upright,” he teased, his hand sliding up your back to hold you more firmly against him. “plus, you’re cute when you’re all giggly and wobbly. like a drunk little elf.”

“i hate you,” you muttered, though the grin on your face betrayed your words.

“nah, you love me,” he said smoothly, leaning in close enough that your noses bumped. his breath smelled like eggnog and something sweet, and you couldn’t help but giggle again as his lips missed yours entirely, brushing your cheek instead.

“you suck at this,” you said, wiping at your face and trying to kiss him back, only to miss as well.

“no, you suck at this,” he countered, laughing as your forehead bumped his. “we’re a mess.”

“speak for yourself,” you grumbled, finally catching his lips for a proper kiss. it was warm and a little sticky from the eggnog, but you didn’t care.

for a moment, everything felt perfect — until he pulled back just slightly, that mischievous look in his eyes. 

“hey,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “you wanna know the secret ingredient in that eggnog you love so much?”

you blinked at him, still dazed from the kiss. “what?”

“it’s my squirt.”

you froze, staring at him in horror as your buzz evaporated faster than a spilled drink. 

“WHAT?!”

he burst out laughing, his whole body shaking beneath you as he held you tight, clearly amused by your reaction. “you should see your face! priceless.”

“suguru, i swear to god —”

“relax, baby. i’m joking.” he grinned, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your thigh. 

“but hey, now that we’re on the topic…”

you barely had time to react before his hand slipped under your skirt, his fingers brushing over your panties.

“what are you doing?!” you hissed, squirming in his lap.

“checking if you’re wet,” he said matter-of-factly, his smirk widening as he felt the heat against his fingertips. “y’know, for scientific purposes.”

“you’re insane!” you snapped, though your protests sounded weak even to your own ears.

“and yet, you’re not stopping me,” he teased, leaning in to nip at your jaw. “guess that means you really do love me, huh?”

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, your face burning as you buried it in his shoulder, too embarrassed to look at him.

“and you’re adorable,” he said, his laughter softening into something warmer as he kissed the top of your head.

“merry christmas, babe.”

“merry christmas,” you grumbled, already plotting your revenge for his little prank.

but for now, you let yourself melt into his embrace, knowing you’d always lose when it came to suguru.

produced by creamflix on tumblr. all rights reserved. do not copy, steal, modify, repost — support your writers by liking and reblogging. ♡

[gojoscinnamonroll]

i feel like suguru is the type of lover that loves so gentle and kind.

like he would definitely be the type to let his partner wash / brush his hair after showers and before bed as a form of intimacy. and in return, when you two take baths together he always washes you with so much love and warmth.

he would also be the type to leave handwritten notes in all kinds of places for you to see to let you how much he loves you. (on the bathroom mirror, on your desk, sometimes if he wakes up before you, on the pillow next to you) . he would read to you whenever he can because he knows how much you love his voice.

and before you two go out, he always places or adjusts your final accessories or jewelry in the mirror behind you and litters your cheeks with butterfly kisses + heartwarming compliments.

he would always take care of you whenever you are feeling ill, never complaining about anything and will stay by your side, never leaving because seeing you not feeling well breaks his heart a little.

and in times where you feel vulnerable and in need of moral support and comfort, he’ll be there as a shoulder to cry on and to listen so that you don’t ever feel alone because he wants you to always know that he accepts you and loves you completely as you are.

i’m crying.

[swearimnevergivingup]

DUMB LOVE, I LOVE BEING STUPID - suguru x reader

synopsis: it's hard being casual with geto suguru. he feels the same way, you just don't know it yet.

content: suguru geto/reader, blowjobs, explicit smut, friends with benefits, mild(?) angst, unrequited feelings but not really ya know (1.3k words)

a/n: just two emotionally constipated fools... just TALK to each other guys i promise it won’t kill… obviously inspired by chappell roan's song. i kinda wanna make this a series and i have a part 2 drafted already but let's see how things go! this is my first time being on tumblr in like 8 years so i'm new to everything BUT i hope you, dear reader, will enjoy!! please let me know your thoughts hehe <3

something must be deeply wrong with him, he thinks, from the sheer pleasure he derives from watching a pretty thing like you get ruined by his cock. 

you’re down on your knees for him, big doe eyes staring back at him, always so eager to please. your eyes are wet with tears that are threatening to fall, mascara smudged ever so slightly. still, he watches as you take more of him into your mouth, struggling all the while, until you’ve got his full length down your throat. 

“good girl, you’re doing so good baby,” he groans. he’s got your soft hair gathered in his fist like a makeshift ponytail, guiding your head down to take him deeper. you whine a little, but eventually relax your throat to allow him to use it as he pleases. he fucks your throat like that, so warm, so tight, listening as you gag helplessly around him.

looking down at you, suguru feels like he’s tainting something pure, something gold and untouched - though with all that you’ve done together he knows that’s hardly true at all. someone like you, looking at someone like him, of all people, like he put the very stars in the sky - he thinks he doesn’t deserve it, but he takes anyway.

from his position above you, he can see the arch of your lower back and the curve of your hips as you kneel on the floor. the room is quiet, save for his stifled moans and the lewd noises coming from your mouth as you please him. it sounds sloppy and downright nasty, and it’s music to his ears. 

you pull him out after he involuntarily gives a particularly deep thrust, gasping and blinking hard. your voice is hoarse when you look up at him again, stroking and kissing the sides of cock as you pant, “does that feel good for you?”

it's a rhetorical question, really. he smiles at you, petting your hair and bending down to give you a tender kiss on your swollen lips. when his lips meet yours, you moan, leaning in for more. so fucking cute. you smell as good as you always do and taste faintly like the strawberry cocktail you had in the bar earlier. he tells you it felt good, and to keep going, so you do - obedient as always - eagerly taking him deeper in your mouth as your hands grasp at his thighs.

he knows you’re a whore for praise, that you like it when he calls you love, or baby, when he whispers to you how good you look when you’re taking his cock in your mouth. he tells you exactly that, feeling the pleasurable vibrations all around his length when you moan in response to his words.

you’re struggling less than you were a few minutes ago - but he’s big and he knows your jaw must surely ache from trying to accommodate his size. he lets you control the pace for now, giving you time to recover from before. 

you swirl your tongue across his tip, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks, concentrating your efforts on his tip. his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure. your mouth feels so good, and suguru almost wonders if it’s him who should be down on his knees instead, worshipping you. 

he opens his eyes to find one of your hands in between your parted thighs, desperate to relieve some pressure, even though he just made you cum twice in a row. he should punish you for it, but god you look so hot, and he can’t exactly fault you for that. the sight of it pushes him off the edge, pleasure surging through him as he releases into your mouth. 

like a good girl, you swallow all of it. you even open your mouth and stick your tongue out to let him see, giggling as you tell him, all gone.

you might just be the death of him.

he knows you aren’t his, no, you could never be. even though you sit back and look at him with flushed cheeks and a coy smile, with something akin to adoration in your glistening eyes, he knows he could never have you. he tells himself it’ll be the last time, every single fucking time, but as much as he hates himself for it, he just can’t seem to break things off.

he’s in too deep, and he knows it full well. 

you have that kind of effect on him, making him feel things he’s never felt before. he’s found himself wishing you would stay longer, hating when you leave, but never making a move to stop you from scurrying off after your rendezvous together. he’s found himself wondering who you’ve been going on dates with for the past month, if it’s the same guy, or perhaps different guys, and if they please you better than he can. he wonders how you’re coping at your new job, if your colleagues are nice to you, and if you’re still struggling with your sleep. 

for the record, he’s self aware enough to know that it isn’t just about the sex, even though it may have started out that way. but somewhere along the way, just sex morphed into other things too, like missing you, wanting to talk to you, to laugh with you, to hold you, like he is right now as you curl up into him. it wasn’t just about the sex, even if you never stick around in his bed long enough for him to properly enjoy it anyway.

you’re probably the one thing he can’t have.

what suguru doesn’t know is that every time you gather your clothes to leave, your fingers linger for a little while longer on the door knob as you bite your lip in silent hope that he'll ask you to stay. he has no idea that you never let any other guy touch you, and that those dates are merely futile attempts at finding someone that could come close to him. your new job is going great, but you’re anxious and trying not to screw up, and you wish that maybe he could take you out for a lunch date sometimes so you get to see his face outside of the bedroom. what he doesn’t know is that all he has to do is ask, and you would be his in a heartbeat. 

you’re scared, scared of the inevitable heartbreak when he realises you’ve caught feelings and eventually cuts you off. you and him both, dancing a familiar dance, playing the same game of push and pull. it exhausts you, being around him, pretending, but you think it hurts you more to keep him away.

you know playing this dangerous game isn’t good for you, you feel the way it eats away at you when you lie awake at night wondering if the both of you could ever be something more, if he’s spending the night with someone else, or if he might be thinking of you too, and you curse yourself for allowing things to get this far. you hate to admit it, but you feel yourself wearing thinner and thinner, like a rubber band pulled taut and waiting to snap. 

you know you should end things, (try to) move on, date a nice boy who isn’t allergic to commitment, and stop having to nurse your aching heart, but you’ve never been able to say no to suguru.

no feelings attached, just sex, that’s what we both want, right?  

yeah. 

good.

he’s still idly tracing shapes on your back when you gingerly pull away from him and rise from the bed, eyes scanning across his room for your discarded clothes. you wonder if he’ll finally say something, ask you to stay, ask you to cuddle a little longer, but you know suguru, and he never does.

[piftamere]

looking after him - suguru geto

synopsis : you come home to a messy house after suguru looked after the girls all day, so you take care of him.

tags : suguru geto x gn!reader, fluff, suguru is tired and mushy, reader is called sweetheart

wc : 856

divider by cafekitsune

a/n : i don't know what this is, enjoy

there's clothes and toys laying in your path as you cross the door into the entry of your appartement. laughter and groans can be heard coming from the living room, as well as feet dragging on the ground towards you. you look up and see a disheveled suguru looking at you (like you're his savior, like he just came back from the war front).

suguru is standing a few feet away, his usually beautiful hair is a mess, he's missing a sock and he has pen on his cheek.

you giggle at the state he's in, as you walk over to him, dropping your bag in the entryway, and he drops the toys he had in his hands. they make a soft thud as they hit the ground.

"rough day?" you cup his cheeks, placing a sift kiss on the the corner of his lips. with your thumb you trace over the mark on his face.

"you have no idea." he grimaces, wrapping his arms around you.

you look up at him and your brows furrow. reaching up you pick what seems to be the arm of a dismembered doll planted in his bun. you hold it in between your faces, having trouble holding back your laughter.

"it's okay, you can laugh. i'm in a pitiful state."

"how did this happen?" you ask with a chuckle.

"i don't know." he mumbles, dropping his head onto your shoulder.

you wrap your arms around his back, rubbing soothing circles, "why don't you go take a bath, relax and i'll take care of it, hm?"

he hums against your neck, "okay."

he heads into the bathroom as you walk into the war zone that used to be your living room. the girls are in a pillow fort, you crouch down to their level. after some negotiating they agree to tidy up while you make them dinner, their favorite of course.

suguru can hear you humming along as you cook, he sighs as he sinks into the bath, so grateful to be able to rely on you.

not without effort, you manage to put them to beds. you're only half sure they're not pretending to be asleep but at least they're in beds.

you finish picking up what's left on the floor, there's stuff everywhere. no wonder suguru is exhausted.

speak of the devil, he walks out of the bathroom as you drop on the couch. he's rubbing his eyes tiredly.

he looks even more sleepy then before, he drops on the couch next to you. he kisses your temple, whispering into your skin "thank you."

"you're welcome suguru. they had so much energy..." you sigh, sinking into the couch pillows.

he chuckles, sinking next to you, "right? they drained me."

"was your bath relaxing?" you ask, voice soft.

"it was great, thank you sweetheart." he replies, his eyes warm with affection. "have you already eaten?"

"no i was waiting for you." you say with a gentle smile.

"good." he whispered, smiling softly

"don't move i'm bringing it to you." you say as you quickly walk to the kitchen.

you set the plates down on the table but before you can sit back down on the couch, two strong arms catch you, making you fall back against suguru.

you yelp as you land on top of him. "hey!"

he cages you in his arms. nuzzling his face into your hair. "i love you."

hearing his words you stop fighting back, melting into him. "i love you too."

watching you look after your kids, after him, made him feel so warm, so loved, he couldn't stop himself from squishing you in his arms.

"i'm don't deserve you." he mumbles, his voice filled with vulnerability.

"don't be an idiot, of course you do." you respond, your tone firm yet loving.

"i'm so grateful to have you in my life."

"when you're sleepy you get mushy, you know that?" you chuckle.

"yeah..." he chuckles too, loosening his grip on you.

as you eat he tells you about all the silly things the girls did in your absence, talking about them so fondly you know his former irritation towards them has completely disappeared.

it's in moments like these that you can see how much he truly cares about them.

"your hair is getting all messy again suguru. come here." you sit back against the couch, inviting him to sit his back facing you.

he obliges and you start threading your fingers through his hair, slowly untangling the knots. strand by strand, you braid his hair. it smells nice and it's still a little damp.

by the way his shoulders slump, you can tell he's falling asleep.

when you finish you gently hold his hand, pulling him up and leading him into your shared bedroom. you whisper, "come suguru."

he mindlessly follows after you. you bring him to the bed, and after changing into comfier clothes, you climb in beside him. you both slide under the covers, and he snackes his arms around your waist, laying his head on your chest.

"goodnight suguru." you whisper, gently kissing his temple.

"goodnight sweetheart." he whispers back, and you both drift off to sleep, after an eventful evening.

[ynyaan]

𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚 | 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 ⋆˙⟡

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 |

Thinking of Geto Suguru lifting you so you can be seen in photos.

Its a tight-knit party with all the students and you just happen to be behind Gojo Satoru. This freakishly strong white hair boy that’s over 6 foot 3.

They we’re already setting up the camera and everyone was shuffling to get to their places. You try to tip-toe but with no luck, only the top of your head could be seen.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter. Not realizing the eyes set on you since earlier. Geto finally chokes the laughter out of him. Snickering at your frowned face before putting a hand on your waist.

“What, Suguru?” You raise an eyebrow at him,

He smirks before putting another hand on your hips. He breathes in, then without warning lifts you up. You squeal softly, realizing what was happening.

“Sugu–“ he puts you on his shoulder, his arm fully securing your weight, his other squeezing softly at your plush thighs.

“Smile, princess.”

𝙒𝙖��𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙: Star (@_ynyaan) ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[sanjisboyfie]

suguru's cherished mornings

-> geto suguru x male reader -> really short sorry idk i just had to publically show how much i love him.

-> still jjk universe but the one where this babe doesnt become anakin skywalker and defect away from everyone <3333 because i like to imagine this alternate universe a LOT

his black hair sprawled over the sheets, unfortunately getting painfully pulled by you when you're still sleeping. he winces as he feels it being pressuredly pushed down onto the mattress, giving a slight tug to his sensitive scalp and affectively waking him up.

he doesn't have the heart to even be remotely annoyed or angry with you. not when you look so peaceful sleeping. not when you're so effortlessly handsome it feels almost like his heart physically stops beating at your effortless charm.

he is just that in love with you.

the way you could make doing nothing but sleeping look like art was something special only to his eye, because he was the only one that had his eye on you. or, at least, that's what he tells himself to sleep better at night (he would very much rather not think about the probably high number of individuals that also find you attractive, it'll just put him in a sour mood).

he won't wake you up. instead, he props his head up onto his palm and continues gazing at you lovingly. sure, it can be a little bit creepy, but...okay, it is just creepy, but he just loves you so much. he might pick up the book that's resting on his bedside. he'll sit against the headboard as he reads, smiling softly when you so naturally shift your body to now be hugging his legs and resting on his lap.

one hand will hold the book up for him to read whilst the other traces mindless shapes on your back.

suguru loves touching you, whether it be in the smallest grazes of his fingers or those more heated moments, he loves, loves, loves touching you. it makes him happy - genuinly.

it's his own way of grounding himself, reminding himself that you're really there with him, next to him.

his large hands will run up and down your back until you eventually wake up. the book he's reading returns back to the bedside and he immediately focuses all of his attention on you.

"g'mornin', baby," he'll gently say, shuffling to hold you in his arms and kiss the top of your head, "did you sleep well?"

a tired hum is all he gets in response, but you can still feel him smiling against your skin. you return the question, your voice gravely as you speak.

then he's pressing his face into the crevice between your neck and shoulder, humming in delight as he gets to really take you in, through all of his senses.

he has you in his arms, obviously he can see you, and the last is that he is drowning in your natural scent.

he's obsessed, at this point.

"slept perfectly, as always," when i'm beside you - that's the last part of the sentence that suguru doesn't voice, for some reason.

his arms tighten around your waist. and now you're the one carding your fingers through his hair, to sooth him and relax that tight grip on your body. he doesn't know it, but it's practically suffocating.

gently, as you predicted, his hold does loosen up and allows you to sit in his lap now without him cutting off your circulation.

"should we stay in for a little while longer, babe? are you still tired?" he asks you, but doesn't get a response. all he feels is your body comfortiably slotting in with his and the arms you had around his neck loosely falling into your lap.

"silly boy," he chuckles, finding your habits endearing and amusing. you woke up, just to get comfortable in his lap and then fall back asleep. "i love you,"

there's a low hum that comes from your chest and he takes that answer with glee. he knows you would have said it back if you had the energy or that keen awareness.

_

when the two of you finally do have the energy to get out of bed, the morning finally starts in the bathroom. you're brushing your teeth standing next to each other, suguru sometimes childishly making funny faces at you in the mirror.

you almost choked on the toothpaste in your mouth when he fulls a particularly funny face. some other mornings you're sitting on the bathroom counter with suguru comfortably standing in between your open legs. his one hand will rest on one side of your lap with the other moving the toothbrush in his mouth. that hand near your lap will sometimes go underneath your shirt and start playing with the flesh of your hips.

it sometimes earns him a warning look, which he rolls his eyes at, but eventually does pull away to please you. the other times, though, when you let his fingers dance on your skin - those times he loves.

sometime in your morning routine, one of you will get a phone call from someone in jujutsu society to call you for a mission. usually, it's you since you're not a special grade like suguru. that means you're more high in demand for lesser grade curses.

he doesn't like that, though, so he often tags along with you wherever you have to go. doesn't like being away from you for too long. it makes him angsty. makes him worried.

he wants to be there for you if anything happens. or else he wouldn't be able to live peacefully.

but on the rare mornings, you don't get beckoned for work, the two of you are lounging in your small living room. two steaming cups of coffee are on the table as suguru watches the television with you scrolling on your phone.

your legs will most likely be thrown over his lap, a subtle way of letting him touch you. his hands will always find the skin of your ankle and calf to caress, going up and down your leg as if he was trying to lull you to sleep again.

he may or may not actually be trying to do that too, he wants you to stay here with him and only him for a while longer. and when you're sleeping, you're doing just that. it's his own little secret, though, as he'd never confess these underhanded methods he uses to monopolize your time and attention.

and its usually at times like that: the light pouring in through the opened window, the cups of steaming coffee in front of you two, that skin to skin contact, when suguru feels the most thankful for having you.

you make the mundane mornings something worth living through. he doesn't have to struggle and find reason to get out of bed, not when he has you there to hold his hand through the motions of it. you make his life exciting and he loves you dearly for all that you unknowingly do for him.

"hm, love you, [name]," he'll say out of nowhere.

it makes your head lift up from the couch cushion and away from your phone screen. he catches your e/c eyes with his own, smiling softly at your adorable face.

"love you too, suguru, always," you easily respond, sitting up to kiss his cheek and leaving a lingering scent of coffee on his skin.

but he doesn't wipe it away, he never would.

you collpase back onto the couch cushion into your comfortable position and suguru can't help but note how homey you look.

he loves when he gets to spend his mornings with you because those are the best parts of his day.

the mundane turned special in its own way, all thanks to you and the love he has for you in his heart.

[reignpage]

Piercer!Geto

Ducati 350 Desmo : rev my engine

Contents: 18+ mdni, huge foreplay, teasing, insight into that one text between modern au!Suguru and reader, inappropriate workplace behaviour, not proofread (literally wrote this just now and felt an urge to post immediately)

A giggle escapes you. 

Your boss just texted you to come to his office for a consultation on a possible tattoo. And you’re biting your lip, walking over to his door, weaving around the different stations of your fellow co-workers who simply grin at you. They have eyes, they can see he treats you differently, see that he’s softer, more patient around you. 

And they definitely see the blush that stains your cheeks every time he winks at you or breezes past. You just hope they can’t see you press your thighs together when he places his large hand on the small of your back and whisper an ‘excuse me, pretty’ in your ear.

It’s a little silly to be getting so worked up over your boss — your sister would certainly not approve, but she’s not much better than you — but your boss is tall, dark and handsome. Anyone in your position would feel the same way. 

You hear him say ‘come in’ when you knock, so you slip inside and close the door with a nervous smile. Suguru is sat behind his desk, hair tied up into a bun at the back, flicking through a portfolio. His leather jacket is strung on the back of his chair, tight black shirt clinging to his lean but muscular body in a way that makes you jealous. 

“Hey, boss.” Your voice has a slight waver to it, a nervous tremor that catches his attention. He looks up through his thick lashes, a small smile pulling at his lips. Beckoning you to sit across from him, he leans back in his chair, seemingly taking in your figure. 

Thank goodness you stole your sister’s pink sweater with a low v-line dipping to your cleavage. The simmering look he gives you makes facing her wrath so worth it. 

Sitting down, you clasp your hands in your lap. You’ve been in his office many times, but those were quick moments: giving him coffee, informing him of an emergency or a sudden cancellation, grabbing something from his shelves. But you’ve never quite sat and basked in the slight vanilla smell in the air, never been on the opposite side of his desk like a client, and you’ve certainly never faced his flirtations head-on like this. 

Suguru sits up, leaning on his elbow and tilting his head at you with a patient smile. A lock of hair follows with him and you want to feel it. Gosh, his hair looks so pretty. You wonder if it’s as silky as it looks. 

“How have you been finding working here, Y/n? I hope you’re finding it easy enough to balance your studies with your part-time job.”

You pout at the paternal tone he’s taken on. “It’s great. Everyone is so nice. No matter how many times I mess up, no one gets mad at me. Everyone’s so patient, I really feel at home.”

He nods, smile widening ever so slightly. “Good, good. I’m glad to hear that.”

The pink polish on your pointer finger is flaking off as you scratch. You’re fidgeting, suddenly feeling alert and aware of every movement, every shuffle outside the door as people walk past. It feels wrong to be hidden away like this with everyone still working just behind that door. It isn’t even locked. 

“So,” Suguru begins, a teasing lilt to his voice, “you want a tattoo.”

“I want to be tattooed by you,” you hurriedly correct. Why did you do that? That sounded so desperate. You wince but he only smiles wider, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. 

You’re too obvious. 

Suguru opens a drawer and places the leather sketchbook you found the other day. It’s thick, with scraps of paper poking out, and held together by an elastic band. The only thing in his entire office, and in his entire studio, that is messy. It feels scandalous, like you saw a peek through his soul and he had let you. Your heart clenches. So does your pussy. 

Nope.

Behave, you tell your body.

When you catches his gaze, he motions you over to his side. So you stand, pulling your short skirt down as discreetly as possible, and round his desk. This feels even more scandalous. You’re on the boss’ side, seeing the world from his perspective. He’s still sat down whilst you stand beside him, shuffling on your feet awkwardly. 

Then he pushes his chair back ever so slightly to give you space to lean forward and look at the page he’s opened. It’s of the dragon you saw. A pearly white, elegant looking creature with captivating yellow eyes. Its body is twisted, curling as it takes flight, rising through the heavens. You had no idea tattoos could be so beautiful. 

“I’m happy to broaden your perspective, pretty girl,” he replies. 

You hadn’t even realise you said it out loud. You blush again. 

You’re looking down on him, and he’s leaning back in his chair, legs spread in the loose trousers he wears, but it’s settled on his thick thighs, revealing the delectable muscles there and the bulge you’re trying not to look at. 

When you glance back up at him, he’s pressing his lips together like he’s trying not to laugh. Heat rises up your neck to your face. You should be fired.

Clearing your throat, you point to the dragon. “I want that one.”

“Yeah?” He’s studying you, no doubt trying to determine if you’re worthy. “Can you handle being tattooed, pretty? You’ll have needles poking you, will you manage?”

It’s clear he’s trying to test your limits, which is fair because you don’t have a single tattoo, unlike everyone else in the studio. You stand out with all your pastels and pinks contrasting with the sharp metals and ink of the place. But Suguru thinks you’re a scaredy cat. He thinks you’d tap out immediately and cry home about how he was too rough or too mean. 

You raise a brow, trying to imitate that arrogant look your sister always has. “I think I’ll be able to handle whatever you give me,” and then you add, almost like an afterthought, “boss.”

Always smiling, Suguru lifts a hand and curls two fingers. You shuffle between his spread legs, slotting in so perfectly it makes the tips of your breasts tingle. It’d be so easy to just kneel between them, to take out that part of him you’ve been dreaming of since he interviewed you, and ask for his cum like a good girl. Or better yet, to just plop yourself down on his lap and ride him to oblivion. 

You don’t do either, of course. 

It’d be wrong to do any of that with your boss, though you’re sure you wouldn’t regret a thing. But you have no experience with men. Your fingers, and a couple times a pillow, have been your only company on night where the frustration has boiled over. 

Suguru runs his gaze up the length of your body, from the smooth thighs peaking from your skirt, to your waist, to the nipples pebbling under your thin sweater, and the curves rounding out beyond the neckline, your neck, and your face. Then back down again. 

You gulp. 

There are phantom grazes running along your skin, tickling your skin wherever it goes. It’s making you ache between your legs and you want to rub yourself along his thigh, or his face, or both. How is he doing that?

Slowly, like a panther stalking its prey, he straightens his posture and his hand lifts. You’re both watching his fingertips graze the side of your thigh at a snail’s pace, as if intent on carving the feeling of your skin to memory. 

Your heart is pounding in your ribcage, threatening to burst out and dance on his desk. It’s pulsing at a beat that matches the down at the apex of your thighs. Can he hear it?

His eyes meet yours. His smile is gone. That cool temperament has disappeared, replaced with a strain in his eyes, in the way it flickers between yours. And when you gasp as his fingers reach the hem of your tight skirt, feeling the soft pudge, his eyes narrow. 

“Where do you want it?”

Through the haze, you barely hear what he’s saying. You stutter out, “Anywhere you want, boss.”

That was the wrong thing to say apparently because in a flash he’s standing behind you, pinning your hips to the desk with his own. Oh goodness, his body feels so firm against yours. And he smells so good, like thrill and danger wrapped in one. 

Your head falls back against his chest when his hands grip your hips, fingers splaying over your tummy, so close to where you want them but still not close enough.  

His lips scrape the shell of your ear and his deep timbre enters you and vibrates your very being. “Be careful, angel. I might just brand you everywhere.”

Head tilting to the side, you’re gasping at him. “Brand?”

You breathed it out like it was the dirtiest word in the English vocabulary, like he had just suggested he spit in your mouth in front of the clients. But when you make eye contact, he raises his hand to lift your sweater just a little, thumb settling on your bare skin, all warm from the blood rushing through you. 

You’re growing dizzy, so lightheaded you hardly remember where you even are. That must be why he has an impression that looks so innocent, like he hadn’t said anything at all. You’re mistaken. The rush is ruining your perception. 

Suguru leans down and he’s so close, you’re just a tiptoe away from feeling his lips against yours, from tasting him and exploring anything and everything he’s willing to give. His hands are burning his imprints and you already know you’ll feel them later when you’re no doubt sliding your own hand into your soaked panties. 

But then he pulls away just as there’s a knock at his door. 

You hear Miguel’s muffled voice and you scramble back from Sugar, who’s gracefully sitting back down like nothing’s happened. Your mind is frantically trying to catch up, and it leaves you breathless. 

Stumbling over to the door, you fix your sweater and pull down your skirt hurriedly before opening the door to see the man polite smile at you and then at the boss. 

He enters and you exit, the door remains open. But when you sneak one last glance at the room, you see Miguel admiring something on the wall, and then you catch Suguru’s heated gaze, his stare not faltering even as he presses a hand to his crotch and adjusts himself like a promise. 

You walk back to your desk at the front of the shop and desperately try to catch your breath just in time as a pink-haired man you recognise as being a member of the student council and a friend of your sister introduces himself and ask to see Suguru on a ‘personal matter’.   

It’s as if you’re moving on auto-pilot, nodding with a polite smile and gesturing to the direction of his office unnecessarily because the man’s already walking off. Your phone pings and you open it to see a text from your friend about how she’s on her way. 

You exhale one last time, replying something to her and ignoring the embers flickering on the places your boss has touched. 

And then you giggle. 

[hyosonn]

suguru’s really not the type to get jealous

so let's say satoru approached you with a drunk demeanor at a party, casually exchanging cheek kisses and a hug. suguru just nods and smiles, seeing his best friend meet his girlfriend for the first time is alright fs

until you got an uneasy feeling to stay next to suguru after he pressed a button to max out the vibrator you're wearing

yeah, suguru’s not the type to get jealous at all

[sanemistar]

𝜗𝜚 vampire!suguru x fem!reader, reader gets called a bunch of pet names, a bit suggestive but nothing too crazy, this was so rushed so sorry for any mistakes 𝜗𝜚 back: jjk m.list

vampire!suguru who has been holding himself from sucking your blood for the longest time rarely ever does so because he doesn’t want to hurt you, you’re his precious girl. so him having you sat in between his legs as he senses your intoxicating scent is definitely not helping his case whatsoever. he finally reaches his breaking point. he is no longer able to restrain himself, he has lost control.

“what’s wrong, suguru?” you ask him softly when you notice that his grip on your waist gets tighter as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

“i can’t hold myself anymore, princess. i just want to taste your blood right now.” and before you know it, suguru sinks his sharp fangs into the exposed skin of your neck as he begins sucking your blood hungrily. you’ve never seen him act this way before, he’s always been so calm and composed. so you’re taken aback by the sudden action, overwhelmed by the sensation. you close your eyes as you lean back on your boyfriend’s shoulder, giving him better access to the exposed skin of your neck.

“good girl, now stay still for me, hm?” suguru orders as he keeps sucking your blood and you do exactly as he says, his movements are a lot slower now because he’s taking his sweet time savoring the sweet taste of your blood.

“su… suguru.” you call out his name repeatedly as you breathe heavily. the sensation is driving you crazy, your head feels light and fuzzy. at this moment your mind is only filled with thoughts of him and him only, no room left in your brain cells for any other thing to think about.

suguru stops sucking once he’s full and begins peppering the now bruised spot with chaste, gentle kisses. he turns you around and your eyes finally meet, revealing the look of desire in your boyfriend’s eyes as he licks a bit of your blood that’s been on his lips.

“your blood is so goddamn delicious, doll. and to think that only i get to have a taste of it..” suguru coos softly as he kisses the back of your hand. “i’m just so lucky, aren’t i?” he grabs your hand and entwines it with his own before he pulls you into a tight hug.

𝜗𝜚 taglist: @yueliie @ayrastv @sylusdoll

[1hot-mess-express1]

Suguru traces circles absentmindedly into the skin at the small of your back, only stopping to turn the pages of his novel as the morning sun creeps in. Placing the book at his side, he wraps his arms around you, leaning you back on the bed before crawling over you and sucking harshly at the space of skin at the juncture of your neck, grinding softly into your hips. You whimper as he moves down, mouthing over your clothed nipple “Morning princess,” he smirks, voice heavy as his head moves between your legs, sucking on your clit hard, earning a high-pitched whine that makes him rut into the mattress. He loved Sunday mornings.