#getou scenarios | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satoruhour · 2 years ago

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HIS FAVOURITE W— STUDENT !

a/n: dilly / @crysugu i am losing the pwp war i needed the lore to be in this HELP. anyway !!! professors bc i cannot stop my mind from spiralling while starting my university classes — im not entirely proud of this but eehhh ….

wc: 4k

warnings: ultimately semi-public sex for all, unprotected sex, cumshot, standing doggy, brief oral (m receiving), brief f! masturbation, brief fingering (gojo), geto is a professor who is also a camboy, camgirl!reader, f! and m! masturbation, mentions of bad dragon’s cumtubes, brief fingering, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink (geto), pussy slapping, spitting (on yo pussy), pet names, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, tit play, fingering, implied f! masturbation (nanami), mentions of murder, stripper!reader, riding, degradation, calls you ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, calls you ‘mama’ once too, unprotected sex, oral (m receiving), deep-throating, slight face-fucking (toji), n*sfw under the cut

✶ GOJO

professor gojo was… an interesting teaching figure. he didn’t have a set way of doing lectures or tutorials, nor was his feedback on assignments entirely coherent, but he was fun and unorthodox. he was also hot as fuck, as you’ve heard from your friends, but you never really got the deal even after seeing his photo on the university website or from miles away entertaining some starstruck student. his classes were always left with no vacancies, too, only able to see what your friends meant after stepping foot first into the lecture.

you were a tad bit early, greeted with gojo sitting at the front with his legs propped up on the desk as he shot you a nonchalant greeting and you think maybe you should’ve signed up for another lecture group, but then he speaks and the air is knocked out of your chest. professor gojo is charismatic when he teaches about art, design and media, captivating everyone with the stark white hair and blue eyes, but he’s clever with his glances because you aren’t realising he stares at you more than anyone else.

aren’t you in your second year? how did he not see you anywhere last year? why did you just sign up?

the smiles he gives you are sweeter than others, the words more sugar coated with lilts in his voice and you’re chastising yourself for not being any different from everyone else, soon turning into the girls who ask for extra tutoring sessions and sidling up to him on campus — at least you’d get the full experience.

“oh! sweetness, what are you doing here?” you’ve managed to get gojo just as he leaves his office, standing outside for quite some time thinking if you’d really want to do this. several lecturers and professors have already walked past asking if you needed anything, but no matter how much you wanted to say professor gojo’s name, it always turned into something like waiting for a friend.

“oh— uhm, professor gojo, just wondering if the grade for that major project is really set in stone?”

gojo makes a show of thinking, but you know you’re asking for the devil himself when he replies yes with a stifled grin and you’re asking if the two week period of appealing works for the major you’re in.

“you can submit other collaterals as an appeal but it might either boost your grade or bring it down,” the professor leans down with a sick smile on his face, because he’s had so many people outside just like this, nervous from his advances and yet not going through with what they thought they could do. but this time it’s you, the you who he imagined taking on his office desk or even in a lecture theatre for everyone to see, who wants the words to fall from your lips just so he could be your knight in shining armour.

“is there really no… other way to appeal?” you swallow when gojo switches the position and gets you in exactly where he wants you: your back facing his office, his face dangerously close to yours while his eyes slyly catching the way your thighs rub together.

gojo smirks to himself when you knock down yet another cup of stationery on his desk after “discussing” ways you could improve your grades, nails making unsatisfactory noises on the wooden desk while he can hear your cunt gush around him, made obvious from the squelch of your hole and he’s muttering praises into your neck from behind.

“this what you had in mind, baby?” just another girl in his roster, getting ruined just for a grade that wasn’t even that bad. what you didn’t know is that you were the only girl, getting professor gojo so hard in lectures and tutorial classes just from the sight of you that to finally have you — it’s a sweet reward. you shiver when his hand reaches to your front to rub at your clit and you’re grasping at nothing as moans leave your lips.

“y-yeah, professor—” gojo is filthy, lewd, lifting your leg to prop up on the desk just so he could get deeper in you, your pussy everything he imagined and more as he continues to fuck into you. you’re warmer than his hand, than some hookup’s mouth from the club, clenching around his cock so tightly his hips stutter.

“f-fuck, angel, tryna snap my dick off?” you let out an incredulous chuckle at that, hips moving back to meet his while the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass fill the room. your juices are coating his length so well, too, that gojo’s eyes lock on your cunt that sucks him in over and over again, the spread of your pussy lips just amplifying his moans. the other spreads your cheeks and sighs at the translucent ring of cum at the base of his cock, hips fucking up to hit your sweet spot that you’re cumming with a shock down your spine — so hard, so deep, so intense that you’re jolting from the orgasm with whimpers of his name. gojo never truly is done with you after pulling out to cum on your ass, however, and you aren’t either.

there’s a thrill that runs through his veins when you back him up onto the sofa, a glimmer in your eyes that suggest you’re as intoxicated on him as he is on you, a sultry gaze taking over your shyness from earlier before he’s pushed onto the cushions.

“thank you for the meal, professor,” you giggle and gojo swears he’s reached his death when your mouth first closes around his still sensitive tip and he whines loudly, hearing your fingers fill your drooling cunt as your hand squeezes out leftover cum from before. a hand runs through your hair and your cockdrunk face is enough for him to see white—

professor gojo thinks you look heavenly between his legs.

✶ GETO

you sigh echoes throughout your dorm room, ending the stream and collecting your keep for the day as you grimace at the mess you’ve made on your sheets. it’s not like it wasn’t pleasurable, but on some days you’re wondering how long you truly need to serve gross men on the internet for it to be enough to pay off your university fees. sure, there were a few attractive people who commented and tipped you, but that was the extent of it. it’s not long before you can only think about cleaning up and taking a big fat nap, but a video in the sidebar catches your attention.

it seemed like a casual stream — no script or planned storyline apart from a heavily tattooed arm taking up half the screen, his pelvis just slightly off the thumbnail. he was faceless, too, filming rather from the chest down which was also inked, something that sends a chill to your core.

it’s only later when you’re slipping your dildo back into you as you watch this stranger pump his cock, guttural groans and slick noises filling your airpods that you realise the dragon wrapping around his arm looks awfully familiar. you’re so blissed out by pleasure, focusing on the needy moans that the man lets out before he cums with a grunt, so much cum leaking out from him. you’ve reached your high too, but you have no time to admire the stranger because it seemed like he was in a hurry, but not before you’ve caught a glimpse of his lip ring.

you know why he looked so familiar, now, standing in front of him in his office while his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, something he doesn’t do often. geto suguru doesn’t wear his lip ring in lecturers either, and now you think you know why because they match the video you’ve seen just last night. you aren’t even entirely sure why you were called in, and you think maybe it’s because you “accidentally” sent a friend request, but you’re taken aback when he asks you if you’ve already selected a tutor to be your mentor throughout your major project.

“surprised? i sent out the email a week ago, love.” you try not to let the name get to you, and the confession lingers at the tip of your tongue.

“y-yeah! i saw it, professor geto, just—”

everyone was no stranger to professor geto’s striking looks, always turning heads with his unconventional gauges and long hair that probably should’ve landed him in a modelling agency in the first place. except, he’s opting instead to teach linguistics, a fitting major for him to talk of the history of language and its formation of it, even slipping in some latin and greek to show its origins but you can hardly listen when all you can focus on is the tight pull of his shirt around his body while his hair falls around his face and you think maybe it was a bad time to think if his hair falls out of his bun while he rails someone. you hope soon it’ll be you, just so you can confirm it for yourself with no other reason involved (you’re a fucking liar).

geto clears his throat and you swallow and the flex of his forearms only distract you further, the dragon on his arm seemingly laughing at your torment as it moves along his skin — the other doesn’t miss your dilemma, staring at you for your answer with a dark stare and enjoying the effect he had on you. your brain doesn’t respond fast enough, though, and you’re blurting out the first thing as you watch the curve of his mouth turn in either distaste or satisfaction; you weren’t sure.

“i saw you stream yesterday—” and you slap a hand over your mouth, wanting to run immediately, but you didn’t expect him to smile after a moment of recognition, making the connections to your account until his mouth falls open just a little.

“you’re the little cutie who sent me a request last night, aren’t ya?”

as he asks the question you hoped he wouldn’t ask, you find there’s nothing on your mind except maybe seeing his tattooed arms wrap around you — and you did. they looked so much better up close, leading from one thing to another in that stuffy office soon they’re looking especially good with how he’s currently dragging the tip of his cock along your folds, collecting your slick as you hold onto his biceps after confessing sin after sin about you from—

“i’ve jerked off to your videos.” a burn on your cheeks when geto sets you on his office table, palms leaving hot trails along your thighs and skin. he lets you play with his bulge, hands probably forming bruises on you from how you relieve the tension in his pants.

“the way your cunt wraps around that dildo — makes me wish i was there fuckin’ your pussy instead.” a gasp and a moan when he preps you with both fingers as he sucks hickeys into your neck and plays with your tits, pinching your nipple that has you clenching around him.

“didn’t miss how you like to be bred in your videos too. think maybe you need some real cum, princess,” geto’s button up shirt is pried open by now, trousers just barely pulled down below his hips because he has a lecture in about half n’ hour. though, he wanted your pussy all to himself and if 27 minutes was all he was granted, he was going to make full use of it. geto groans into your hair when your legs wrap around his middle and he’s reeling at how he’s been watching your videos for the longest time and yet, nothing compares to having you fall apart by his hands.

a quick glance to his watch tells him fifteen minutes, eyes flitting back to the squelch of your cunt around him and he smiles smugly at the whimpers he knows so well. he’s sure it’s imprinted on his brain by now but his dick still jumps at the many variations you’ve let out during the 27; he’d commit every single one to memory. “professor— s-shit!”

geto angles his hips up, the curve of his cock hitting that spot just right that your back arches and you let out a drawn out moan, “yes, baby?”

“w-wan’ your cum in me, suguru,” you’re pleading with a drunk little smile and your face is twisted into such pleasure he’s only seen through pixels that geto cums almost immediately with a pained laugh seeing the real thing, hips stilling as he fills you up, up, up to the brim with hot, white semen that geto feels embarrassed to climaxing so quickly. but what can he do? when his favourite camgirl and student asks to be bred, it’s only natural.

how could he possibly say no?

✶ NANAMI

“does that mean the poem is written from the cross’ perspective?” your hand shoots up in hopes of interpreting the text correctly, but also because, just maybe, that you wanted to impress a little someone at the front of the lecture theatre. beside you, you can hear the gasp of your friend along with the eyes of various other students. “sort of like— personification?”

nanami points to you with his glasses that he’s long removed, a small smile on his face. it’s not like you’re trying too hard, but of course you know your shit fairly well. you always have in every class, it was just a bonus you were so attractive that all nanami could think about was spreading your legs right on this desk. “yes, almost. anthropomorphism, something that was very common in poems or works written in old english.”

you were sceptical about professor nanami at first, especially since he was a lecturer who was transferred here from overseas only three months ago and is technically quarter of a white man, but he held command of the japanese language well enough for you to understand, both in speech and concepts. you were more interested in the lecturer himself though, piqued from the moment he explained his grandfather was danish and you turn to your friend, explains the blonde hair, doesn’t explain how he’s so insanely fine, giggling quietly to each other the first day.

as for your major, it was texts after story after poem, but you enjoyed it alongside giving your own input in class — something you knew would help your participation grades. you’ve raised your hand in more ways than one, always coming up at the end of lectures with a question, stopping him in hallways to show him the book you were currently reading. so that’s why you were confused when you were called to the front of the lecture theatre after everything’s over. it couldn’t be bad, right?

it wasn’t bad, it was much better, especially when nanami’s got your legs on either side of him on the lecture theatre desk while he takes his rightful place between your legs — somewhere he’s always longed to be. both the front and back doors are locked, with only your soft, muffled moans filling the room. but nanami has no shame, slurping up the juices that drip from your pussy loudly, possibly staining the desk below him. he’s cared before about the condensation of his drinks but when it comes to your sweet, sweet cunt? he doesn’t give one fuck.

“taste so good, sweetheart,” nanami moans wrapping a forearm around your thighs and just eats. he flicks his tongue over your clit, while the other hand goes up to squeeze at your tits, kneading and playing with them while you’re still at awe at the man on his knees, at how you’ve gotten one of the hottest professors in the university eating out of your pussy like it’s the last meal on earth.

you’re snapped out of your daze when nanami lands a few slaps onto your pussy, brown eyes boring holes into your skull. but this stare is different, as opposed to glaring down the mischievous boys who can’t stop making noise, this is…

“pay attention when i eat your little pussy, angel,” the demanding tone has you shivering, a small grin stifled when he nods in deserved approval and continues his assault. fingers slip in before you have time to react and your head is thrown back so hard it bumps against the wood but you don’t care, clamping down around his fingers. nanami’s pace is unforgiving, sucking hard on your clit while he pumps them in and out.

“feel good?” nanami asks through slurps as he catches your eye, licking one last stripe before gathering his saliva into a ball and he spits onto your clit, sight so lewd you clamp around his fingers. he admires how the way the glob of liquid runs down your cunt and mixes with your arousal that he can’t wait for it to be his cum instead.

“better than…” your voice trails off when he rubs in his spit, a thumb on your bud while he continues to move his fingers and your thighs are already trembling from how nanami knows all your sweet spots in such a short period of time. nanami simply chuckles at your sensitivity, meeting you halfway as you sit up to feel his lips against yours and he whispers against your lips—

“what were you gonna say, baby?”

you’re heaving for oxygen as he adds a third finger and you’re just hoping he’d show you his fucking dick already. hot breath fans across your lips and you smile to yourself seeing how your words affect him.

“better than fucking myself with my fingers thinkin’ it’s your cock, prof.”

✶ TOJI

it was nine in the morning, and toji could already feel a headache forming from the amount of absentees in his class, simply sighing before pulling up the details for today’s lecture, eyes unknowingly looking for you in the large lecture theatre. he finds that you’re already looking, clad in a cardigan and tired eyes — no doubt from trying to reach his deadline earlier than usual. toji found that you liked to do that, the first one to always submit your essays and assignments, so that’s why he knows what game you’re playing at when you’re asking the difference between first, second and third degree murder when you already know their definitions.

he would know — you got full marks the other time.

“hm?” toji only hums when he sees your enthusiastic face and a quick look down to your lower half shows how your legs spread naturally for him. the professor only licks his lips before he spots your underwear, entertaining you for now as you stare on earnestly, while nothing is actually entering your brain. that’s okay, though, you’re smart.

toji can count on one hand the amount of times you manage to catch him off guard, but he didn’t expect both of those times to be on the same day. it was a busy night at the club, trailing behind professor gojo, bored, until the clock hits 11 and the shift changes, some dancers retiring for the night whilst others make their way out. they emerge with pumps and skimpy outfits, but toji still hasn’t found someone worth wasting his loaded bank account on until you’re stepping out in a corset and garters and toji whistles lowly, eyes travelling up your person unforgivingly before he hears a small gasp.

his curiosity is piqued at the small noise, only to be greeted with your widened eyes and taut muscles at having seen your professor at the strip club you work at, but with a clap from somewhere backstage your body moves naturally into a professional stance, and perhaps a little more sluttily than other days.

your professor was hot, of course you would work twice as hard, twisting your body around the pole while you show off your assets — things you were covering just this morning in professor toji’s lecture. he taught criminology, a minor that you were trying out in your second year of uni and if it didn’t work, you’d drop it, but no matter how much you complained about the class, the green eyes that bore into yours in lectures always seem to ask you to stay. you never really knew whether he was looking at you or not.

at least now, you’ll make him.

toji’s hands tightened around the wad of cash he planned to waste tonight, all put on hold just from watching the way you put your body on display. he wouldn’t have imagined seeing you tonight at the strip club he let gojo drag him to, but he’s almost glad he’s here when you seem to be only dancing for him, all focus on the other patrons lost.

your eyes are still locked with toji’s, reminding you of the times in the lecture theatre where green was all you could see, a smile creeping on your face when one of your girlfriends behind you whispers that the man with the black hair and tight shirt wants a private session with you.

that’s all it took before you feel toji’s hands on your ass later in the private room, pulling you to his front with a smirk. “what’s a sweet girl like you doin’ here?”

you roll your eyes as you feign annoyance. your heart was pounding along with the music, finally being able to feel his toned body from the front., “cut the crap, prof. you booked me for a reason. what, here to talk about my grades or something?”

“what? can’t see my favourite student?” you scoff with a small smile.

“and how did you know i work here?”

“i didn’t, but seeing you work that pole,” toji grins, landing a smack on your butt before grinding his very obvious, large bulge on you and he’s loving the way it seemed to stimulate your clit, “i need ya to show me what i’ve been missing, mama.”

toji groans later while you’ve got his cock in his mouth, on your knees in front of him while you’re fisting the places you can’t reach. you take most of him easily, feeling the tip of his length reach the back of your throat. there, your eyes flick up to him, doe eyed and pleading. it isn’t long before you feel his hips bucking into your mouth and the cute twitch of his cock in your mouth, moaning around him as you knead his thighs, dragging him closer with what little strength you had.

“dirty fuckin’ slut, huh?” toji mumbles out breathlessly, tightening his grip around your hair before you start bobbing your head again, a plethora of lewd noises alongside the slurp of your saliva and his pre-cum mixing only makes your panties wetter and sends your cunt clenching around nothing. “who knew my cutest student was such a whore?” your head reels at the degradation, sucking in your cheeks even more while you slobber over him. toji swears under his breath when your tongue sweeps over his tip, collecting his pre-cum.

“it’s s’big in my mouth, professor,” giggling, you bob your head faster as the other’s noises increase in volume, and he’s left to tap the side of your skull, causing you to tilt your head in question. the vibrations of your moans has him grinding into your mouth, shutting you up until he’s cumming down your throat with a loud groan. toji spills so much into your mouth that you have to swallow twice, pulling on your jaw as you show him the remnants of the cum still on your tongue.

“’m sure they have it somewhere in the conduct about professors not having sexual relations with a student,” toji chuckles when he sees you peel off your underwear, eagerly wrapping his arms around your waist. “or even something about cutting corners to get your grades up…” it’s a little soft, trailing off when he feels you drag his tip along your pussy and he’s mesmerised with how your dripping folds accommodate him easily.

you pout in dramatics, thighs tightening around his when you take inch after inch of him before you’re bottoming out. there’s a deep sigh coming from you before you’re moving your hips lazily, a certain slur to your words that already show you’re drunk on your professor’s cock and toji only smiles.

“yeah, but my grades are perfectly fine,” you whisper with a small whine when toji squeezes your ass, something he never thought he’d get a taste of.

“plus, we’re not in the classroom now, are we, professor?”

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stxxrlights · 9 months ago

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𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔'𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐆𝐔𝐘...

suguru's the type of guy who carries your purse for you. he doesn't care about the strange looks he gets, he's just happy to hold your bag for you. whether you need to take a trip to the restroom or you're just tired of carrying it, he's there to hold onto it for as long as you need him to.

suguru's the type of guy who lets you play with his hair. he's very protective of his long lustrous locks, he he doesn't mind you combing your fingers through it. he finds it king of relaxing. he also lets you do his hair routine for him just so he can spend more time close to you and feeling your touch.

suguru's the type of guy who smiles when he talks to you on the phone. just the sound of your voice has the corner of his lips turning upward as he listens to whatever it is you want to say, be it something stupid or gossip you couldn't wait to tell him, other way he's still smiling as he imagines you infront of him talking to him.

suguru's the type of guy who enjoys cuddling up with you on movie night. it's just something about the way your frame fits his, your legs intertwined under the covers and him placing his chin on the top of your head. it's moments like these that he wants to live in forever, barely paying attention to the movie, just occasionally placing kisses on your ear, neck and cheek.

suguru's the type of guy who documents almost everything you do together. he had a special journal with your ship name on it where he writes each and everything about your day together. he of course does this in secret, he would die of embarrassment if you were to ever read what he writes inside.

suguru's the type of guy who has spa days with you. any random day of the week, you plan to do your skincare, haircare, pedicures, manicures, whatever it is, he has to do them with you. just so he can sit and laugh with you spending as much of his time he has with you.

suguru's the type of guy who rarely uses your name instead calling you cute names. his favourites are 'darling', 'pretty girl' and 'baby'. the only time he calls you by your given name is when he's being serious. he just likes how you smile everytime you smile when he calls you a cute nickname.

suguru's the type of guy who enjoys cooking together with you. playing a youtube tutorial and mixing the ingredients infront of you and soon enough, the tutorial ending up as background music as you're laughing together, a mess of your clothes from the spilled contents. he knows nothing ever gets done since you end up ordering food anyways, but at least he got to have some fun with you.

suguru's the type of guy who loves when you wear his clothes. it's just something about your frame being swallowed by his robes that has his heart melting. and the fact that when you walk around with his scent on you because your wearing his clothes, he just adores you so much.

suguru's the type of guy who always stares at your lips when you talk to him. he knows he should be staring into your gorgeous eyes, but there's just something about your lips. his mind can't help but wonder how your lips would feel on his even though you've kissed multiple times. he just can't help himself and kisses you right then and there.

comments and reblogs are appreciated

#jjk fluff #geto suguru #geto fluff #geto headcanons #geto x reader #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jjk suguru #getou suguru x reader #jujutsu kaisen suguru #suguru geto #jjk headcanons #jjk scenarios #suguru scenarios

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3-dsimp · 1 year ago

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Could you do a drider breeding fic? Creampie and eggs. Size kink is a musttt. Maybe a bnha character? Whatever character you choose is cool just none of the villans pls. Btw your fics just ajrjdkndjekdndosn💖

A/n: I ended up doing a general smut Drabble hope that’s okay and thx you! (>^ω^<)

——|———-|———|———

Cw: 🔞NSFW MDNI🔞Fem reader! + Drider Male! breeding, tummy bulge, praise, overstimulation, eggs, size kink, pussydrunk, rough sex, cum inflation, creampie.

——|———-|———|———

Imagine him grinning widely as he ruthlessly slams you up and down onto his engorged cock. His muscles flexing with each movement while he relishes in your wetness gushing around him.

"Oh you’re such a good girl, taking my dick like a world champ I’m so proud you sweetheart~"

The man praised, whilst sticking his tongue out like a dog. A pussydrunk look apparent on his haggard features. While You were fucked out of your mind, completely full to the brim from his previous thick goopy loads of his sperm. Which leaked past his dick that served to be a temporary plug to keep all his spend inside of your flooded womb.

"Damn I can’t get enough of this sweet pussy she’s so tight, so perfect Princess. I could fuck you all night long and still not get my fix."

A low heated chuckle escaped his lips as he felt up your rounded belly. Which was sloshing with his eggs and cum of which he meanly crammed into you. Despite your whines of discomfort, he couldn’t resist bullying every inch of his pulsating meat inside your quivering quim. The telltale of his balls twitching against your ass for the fourth time in a row. Made your cunt clench pathetically around his throbbing shaft.

"Shh baby it’s okay I know how you love getting stuffed full of my cock. Daddy’s gonna give you one more load so make sure not to spill any of it mkay?"

He purred nipping at your nape as his hips continues to pump into you, his massive dick filling you up completely as he uses you like a fleshlight for his own pleasure. Your bodies moved together in a primal dance, lost in the moment. The only sounds were your collective harsh breathing and the wet slaps of flesh against flesh.

"Fuck yes! That's it, Take it all. Take everything I have to give. Mmh you’re such a good girl. Shit this pussy is to die for~"

He moaned in a breathy hiss as he manhandled you into a mating press and began to move savagely, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a satisfying wet smack. Your walls clenched around him, milking his spurting penis for all he was worth.

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clawsdevour · 5 months ago

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satisfaction

wc: 0.3k content warning: geto x reader, smut, creampie, implied rounds, not proofread

݂ : ᰌ * .

ugh, it's just something about the way he makes you feel so good but queasy at the same time whenever he's inside.

your legs always end up trembling, walking and getting up the day after is such a sore as he put his full force into each and every thrust that makes your spine shiver. slow and sensational strokes were always the best with him as he hips moved in and out.

you love when his slender monolids gaze is on your bare body, the lingering cold feeling that perks your rosy nipples as you arch into the soft mattress. you can't help but feel like the most feral cat whenever his eyes are on you.

whenever his long dark locs of hair fall onto your face as you share a deep kiss, you can't help but feel even more attached to him. even better when you're locked in a mating press with his weight on you.

"wait.. suguru-! i think i'm gonna c-cum again," your lips quivered out as your fingers dug into his broad and tender shoulders, creating small half moons. a smirk creeping onto the side of his mouth, that shit made his tip move on its own.

"keep cumming for me," doing as geto said gently and breathy, you followed his words that he whispered in your ear, echoing as your vision turned into static from the relief.

geto's cock is twitching insanely as your plush and gummy insides mold to his shape. he was just about there, about to spill his hot ropes of milky white seed inside you just as you pleased.

whenever you're fucking, there is no limit with geto unless you're satisfied.

masterlist here

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th3secr3th1story · 2 years ago

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geto when he finds you awake in the middle of the night

it was sometime during the dark hours when you found yourself awake, your throat begging for a tall glass of ice cold water.

the only problem was that you were being held captive by geto's entire body. he always claimed to be the big spoon ("darling, it's my job to protect you in your sleep," he'd say whenever you asked him to switch), but most mornings you'd find him sprawled on top of your body--you both knew he'd always succumb to your head scratches.

huffing, you rolled his body off of yours, barely managing to untangle your limbs. ensuring that geto was still asleep, you slid out of bed and quietly made your way to the kitchen.

you hadn't even finished putting ice into the cup when geto nearly took the life out of you.

"why are you up?" he grumbled, "it's the middle of the night."

barely suppressing a yelp, you whispered, "i'm just thirsty, suguru. go back to bed, i'll be there soon."

you turned back to the sink to fill your cup, still desperate for a cold drink. geto came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, burying his head in your shoulder with a deep sigh.

"alright, angel. but i'm staying here with you."

the two of you stood there like that for a few minutes as you savored the frigid water while geto tried his hardest not to fall asleep again, relishing in your warmth.

"okay, suguru, i'm done. we can go back," you say lightly, nudging his head.

he merely grumbled and picked you up, walking back to your shared room.

geto, being the gentleman that he is, placed you under the covers and kissed your forehead despite his drowsiness. he practically stumbled into bed, too tired to pretend he wanted to be big spoon at this point.

he flopped onto you, encircling his arms around your body.

"you are not getting out of this bed for the rest of the night."

"but suguru, what i have to pee?" you whined. "i just drank like, three glasses of water."

"don't care. hold it in," he mumbled, already falling back asleep.

1K notes · View notes

swearimnevergivingup · 22 days ago

Text

HOLD ME GENTLY WHILE I FALL - suguru x reader (nsfw)

sypnosis: you should close the door. you know you should. but it’s late at night, your bones ache, your eyes weary, and you’ve just buried another colleague last weekend. another loss. another closed casket funeral, with no body to even mourn. harder missions that take everything from you and still demand more. and through it all, the emptiness that gnaws at you seems to only grow with each passing day. so when the ghost of the boy you loved and lost appears in front of you for the first time in years, you can’t find it in you to shut the door on him.

content: suguru geto/reader, porn with plot, smut, explicit content, mentions of suicidal ideation, angst with happy ending, tw: themes of grief and loss, the jujutsu world is fucked up!!! and dear reader is at her breaking point (4.3k words)

a/n: okay i disappeared from this site for a long time but i came back to drop this. i'm pretty happy with how it turned out, please do let me know what you think! <3

You’re just about to turn off the kitchen light when you feel it.

A flicker of cursed energy. Unmistakable.

Your heart stalls.

You wouldn’t have believed your senses at first, but it’s a signature you know as intimately as your own. Deep and familiar, like the ache carved in your bones after he left.

Geto Suguru is at your door.

Fear seizes you before you can think of anything else. You’ve had nightmares about it before. That he’d only turn up at your door, bloody and bruised, collapsing at your feet. Afraid that the only way you’d get to see him again is when he’s nothing but a cold body.

You’re walking towards his presence before you can stop yourself, fingers already reaching for the handle. All rational thought dissolves, commandeered by a rush of pure instinct – fear, dread, worry, longing. Tangled together, and pulling you forward.

You yank open the door without thinking, wide-eyed and bracing yourself for whatever might be on the other side. There’s no plan and no restraint, consumed only by the fear that he might be dying at your doorstep.

Instantly, you scan his body for signs of injury.

But he’s completely fine. He’s fine.

Suguru's hair is longer now, loosely tied up in a half bun. His boyish features certainly hardened up over the years, standing a little taller than you remembered, his shoulders broader and his muscles more defined. There’s an air of something heavy about him, but it’s undeniably still him.

Relief washes over you just as the reality of what you're doing dawns upon you. Alive and breathing, and you’ve just opened your door for the most wanted man in the Jujutsu world.

“Y-you aren’t supposed to be here,” you warn, though your voice trembles. Small, fragile, like it belongs to a timid little girl, brandishing a weapon she’s too afraid to use.

“I know.” Suguru’s voice is soft as he studies you. You can’t help but feel so small under the weight of his gaze as he takes the sight of you in.

“I wanted to see you, though.”

Your throat feels tight, and your stomach churns.

Geto Suguru is a danger to society. If seen, he is to be executed on sight.

You should fight. That’s what they would want. Or maybe you should run. At the very least, you should shut your door. But you simply stand frozen.

He inches a step closer.

Instantly, your cursed energy crackles and roars, like oil set aflame, betraying your emotions. Your fingers twitch. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest. You clutch the door tighter, and tighter yet, trying to steady yourself.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asks quietly.

For a moment, he almost sounds… hurt.

“I don’t know, Suguru.” Your voice is barely a whisper now. “Should I be?”

His face twists into something pained, something raw. Then he looks away, exhaling softly.

“I would never hurt you. Surely you know that. I just want to talk.”

Thump.

You should close the door. You know you should. But it’s late at night, your bones ache, your eyes weary, and you’ve just buried another colleague last weekend.

Another loss. Another closed casket funeral, with no body to even mourn. Harder missions that take everything from you and still demand more. And through it all, the emptiness that gnaws at you seems to only grow with each passing day.

So when the ghost of the boy you loved and lost appears in front of you for the first time in years, you can’t find it in you to shut the door on him.

(— Sometimes, you desperately wanted to be 16 again, to be standing at the beginning of something blooming between the two of you. Futures unwritten, at the edge of something you would only recognise later as love.

You remember the girl you were back then, your voice quivering, thin and high, stammering a confession into the dark, wild heartbeat only stilled by the feeling of his warm lips pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Fooling around in empty classrooms and after missions, his hand up your skirt, your fingers tangled in his hair. Practising sparring only to end up pinned under him, all rough and wild as you moaned into his mouth. The stumbling beginnings of young love neither of you knew how to name.

It was messy too, as often happens when the threads of friendship and romantic relationships intertwine. You would flirt with Satoru, teasing touches and laughing too loudly at his jokes, just to revel in the way Suguru’s jaw would tighten at the sight. He would retaliate in kind too, letting girls hang off his shoulder at school, glancing over to watch the poorly concealed jealousy on your face.

Back when grief wasn’t a familiar friend, when it didn’t linger around the hallways of the morgue with its ashy hands around your throat. You hadn’t been acquainted with loss then, when your reverse cursed technique was for healing up scraps and bruises and not broken bones and limbs barely hanging from their bodies.)

Your hands tremble when you shut the door behind you. There’s no comprehending this situation.

For years, you had pretended he was dead. It was far simpler that way — to grieve a dead man rather than accept the reality.

It became easier after some time. You’d only seen his face, or the blurry outline of it, through grainy surveillance footage and hastily snapped shots from informants over the years. It became easier to pretend that such a man, a figure cloaked in monk robes, with hair far longer than your Suguru, was someone different. A stranger.

(—It was some time ago that you realised you had forgotten the sound of his voice. You didn’t think that much time had passed at all, but you couldn’t summon it, couldn’t recall the fondness in his voice when he said your name or the cadence of his laugh, no matter how hard you tried.

The grief hit harder than any curse. Your body wracked with sobs as you sat on the bathroom floor, clutching your chest as you mourned him all over again.)

“It’s a nice place,” Suguru comments quietly. He’s stepping further into your space, fingers trailing over the photo frames lining the wall as he looks around your small apartment. “Cosy. I like it.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” you say again breathily, as if repeating yourself could somehow undo your decision.

You watch as he takes a seat on your couch. You stay rooted to the door, back straight, mouth dry. Almost transfixed at the sight of him.

Alive.

“How have you been?”

“I’m fine,” you reply curtly. You have your guard up. He can’t fault you for that.

“You don’t seem fine. When’s the last time you had a full night's sleep?”

You scoff lightly at that. “Do any of us sleep well anymore?”

Suguru shifts forward slightly, resting his forearms on his knees. He watches you for a long, quiet moment before he speaks again.

“I’m asking about you.”

“Suguru- I- What?” you ask in exasperation. “What do you want? Why are you here?”

There’s an unreadable expression on his face when he looks back up at you.

When he doesn’t reply immediately, you continue. “You can’t just- just show up here- when I haven’t seen you in two years- and ask me how i’m doing like nothing happened-”

“…I saw you on that bridge last night.”

A tightness grips your chest.

“What?” you breathe, fast and sharp. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There’s really no point denying it, the pure shock on your face being admittance enough, but you pull away, crossing your arms in front of you defensively.

“I was out trying to absorb a curse,” he says slowly, eyeing you knowingly. “A little close to Jujutsu Tech for my liking, but eh, a special grade curse like that one was worth the risk. I thought my eyes were deceiving me at first, but your cursed energy was unmistakable.”

You swallow hard, refusing to meet his gaze.

“You were sitting there, on the edge of that bridge. Crying and looking like you had given up on everything,” he continues, voice strained. “For one fucking moment I thought you were going to j—”

“I don’t know what you saw,” you cut him off harshly, eyes narrowed. “But it’s not what you’re thinking. If you’ve come here because of some misguided sense of obligation, or guilt, or whatever— just don’t. I don’t need it.”

“Obligation?” Suguru repeats incredulously, furrowing his eyebrows like you’ve just said something ridiculous. “You don’t know how worried I was. You really think I only came because of-” he stops himself and lets out a tight exhale.

He says nothing, just quietly studies the look on your face. The silence stretches on, and you shift under the weight of his gaze. You wish there were somewhere to run.

“It doesn’t matter what it was. I don’t need an explanation,” he says finally. “You don’t owe me one, either.”

“Then- then what?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” Suguru says softly. “That’s why I came.”

“So? he asks. Gently, patiently. “Are you?”

You’re taken aback by his unexpected question. No one has asked you that in a long time. You don’t know what to say.

That’s one thing about Suguru you’ve always liked. A quiet observer. Eyes that always saw too much, and yet he always knew when to push back and when to stay still. Someone who never demanded anything more than what you were ready to give.

You could lie to him, then maybe he would go away, and you could pretend this was all part of a bad dream. But there’s something so disarming about the way he’s looking at you - you’ve found yourself at the receiving end of his sensitivity again, and perhaps it cracks open something raw inside of you. Some part of you that’s been dying to be honest with someone, desperate to be seen and heard.

Some part of you thinks he might be the only one who understands.

“...I don’t know.”

Lately, you’ve started feeling like you’re the problem. Too emotional for a Jujutsu sorcerer. Too soft, unable to simply swallow down your grief, unable to detach from the misery of it all.

You didn’t know what you were doing on that bridge last night either. You had found yourself there after a difficult mission, feeling emptier than ever before. Your legs had carried you to that spot before you were even fully aware of it. And then you were climbing the railing, staring down below at the vastness of the water, illuminated only by the moonlight.

“I wasn’t planning to jump, alright? I’m not- I didn’t- that wasn’t it.”

He nods once, but stays silent. Listening.

“I was just tired,” you mutter defeatedly. “Tired, and looking for a way out.”

You’ve always thought it was silly to call this a job. Being a sorcerer, taking down curses, the Jujutsu world - it’s all you’ve ever known. There’s no clocking out, no weekends off. Instead, there are violent fates and grisly ends. Names too young to be carved on tombstones.

The guilt you feel is unfathomable.

The future laid out for you is inescapable.

The cursed technique you wield isn’t a gift. It’s a life sentence.

If you can’t see an out, it’s only because you’ve never known anything else.

“Sometimes… I just wish I could run away from it all,” you whisper. You taste the words on your tongue, and it feels like a sin to have spoken at all. “Turn my back on this stupid Jujutsu world.”

You let out a shaky exhale. You’ve never admitted that to anyone out loud before. You hadn’t meant for the words to spill out of your mouth, but you find yourself unable to stop yourself now.

All this time, not a word or whisper from him and yet you’d somehow found yourself thinking that maybe you finally understood what it felt like to be in his shoes. To make the choices he did. To be familiar with the darkness that festers in the pit of your stomach, an all-consuming rot. To hold the kind of grief that turns to indescribable rage when no one’s looking.

Back when Suguru defected, you yearned to make sense of why it all happened. Why things unfolded the way they did. You couldn’t fathom the choices he had made. Now, you think you face the same desperation he must have felt back then. Somewhere along the way, that longing for Suguru had grown into something that looked like understanding.

“Suguru,” your voice cracks, and your eyes burn. “It’s just- It’s just– There’s only one of me. There’s only so many of us.”

Giving up your lives for a completely fruitless sacrifice. Like trying to stop the sun from rising or the world from spinning.

There’s a brief flash of surprise across Suguru’s features, like he hadn’t expected you to say that.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Then, he rises from his seat, crossing the distance in your tiny apartment towards where you’re standing. Gingerly, his hand comes to rest against your cheek, brushing away a stray tear you hadn’t realised had fallen.

“Is that- Is that… what it felt like for you? Back then.” You say it like it’s a plea.

Tell me I'm not going crazy.

Tell me you understand.

“I think so, yeah.” He laughs quietly, looking away. “It felt like I was drowning. I was tired of fighting a losing battle. Of feeling like sorcerers like me and you are—”

“—Expendable,” you finish for him.

“Yeah,” he says bitterly. “And what’s the purpose in that?”

“I’m sorry,” you say. You don’t know how else to reply. You hate that he felt that way, all alone. You hate that you’ve come to empathise with the same decisions you would’ve once been horrified at.

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault. None of it was.”

There’s hesitation before he speaks again. “I should be the one saying sorry… for everything. For leaving you like that.”

(— You think back to the last kiss you pressed to his lips before he left for that fateful mission. There were three heavy words hanging off the tip of your tongue, but you had been way too shy back then. You hadn’t wanted to be the first one who said it. Suguru was drifting away then, and you had seen it. You thought maybe that would have been enough to get him to let you in.

“Hm? Did you say something?”

“It’s nothing. Come back soon.”)

I love you.

But love wouldn’t have been enough to change anything. You know that more than ever now.

More tears reach your eyes, and you raise your hand to rub at your face, flustered. Even though you knew you would have been powerless to stop him from leaving, the guilt had still consumed you for a long time. You hadn’t realised how badly you needed to hear that. How badly you wanted to see him again.

There’s silence for a few minutes as he soothes you, letting you wet his shirt sleeves with your tears. He only pulls you in tighter when you sniffle loudly, the overwhelming sense of helplessness biting at you. His presence is the only thing that drowns it all out.

The truth is, you’ve never stopped craving his comfort.

You can’t help but think about all the time lost. All the time you could’ve been spending with him, instead of just missing him.

“Thank you,” Suguru murmurs after a while. “For letting me in. I didn’t think you would have wanted to see me, but I was trying my luck”

“How could I not have wanted to see you?”

I waited for you every day.

I searched for you in my dreams.

“I don’t know,” he sighs. “I wouldn’t blame you either. Besides, your place wasn’t exactly easy to find.”

It’s true - in the weeks and months after Suguru’s defection, the higher-ups had been in uproar, afraid he would somehow come and convince you to join him. A special-grade and a promising first-grade sorcerer joining hands was a possibility they had to shut down at all costs. They had you moving from place to place every so often, calling it a “precautionary measure”.

“That wasn’t by choice,” you mutter. In 2 years alone, you’ve been sent to countless cities and made to move apartments 9 times. Never allowed to stay in one place for too long. Someone’s watchful eyes always on you.

“I did try to keep my eye on you here and there, though.” He gives you a teasing grin. Trying to lighten the mood. “Saw you on your birthday last year. Pretty dress. You looked cute.”

“What?” You splutter incredulously.

He shrugs. “I just figured you’d be celebrating it at that old izakaya you like. And I was right.”

And then more quietly this time, he adds, “I just missed you. Wanted to see how you were doing. You looked happy. I was glad.”

You blink rapidly and look away, feeling your face heat up. He‘s been looking for you?

Your last birthday was the most miserable one ever, but you don’t tell him that. You had come home and cried your eyes out on the couch, feeling like you’d never be able to get over the pain of losing him. You only liked that izakaya place because of him, anyway.

“You missed me?” you repeat, hanging onto that word.

“I miss you,” he corrects, his voice low. “Present tense.” He’s looking at you with those eyes again, scanning your face for your reaction.

You feel your heart pounding faster than it did when you saw him at your door.

As teenagers, you were a timid thing. Too restrained, a little insecure of yourself, and always waiting for Suguru to initiate something instead. He’d steal you away to make out with you, or sneak into your dorm room at night, and you would gladly let yourself get swept up by it. But you were always waiting for him to make a move first, far too doubtful of yourself and of whatever existed between the two of you.

When Suguru left, you regretted everything. Regretted not telling him you love him, as if that would have been enough to hold him from breaking. Regretted not being more forward with your feelings, for not having the courage to try and peel back his layers.

This time, you don’t hold back when you lean in to kiss him.

Suguru’s response is instantaneous, hands moving to the back of your neck as he kisses you back fervently. You’re unsteady at first, but quickly find yourself desperate as you moan into his mouth, pawing at his shirt, his arms, then his abs, as his fingers tangle in your hair.

How is he here? You can’t believe you’re touching him. That he’s even in front of you at all.

“You’re really here,” you whisper, leaning to rest your forehead against his. Relief washes over you as you take him in again. Relishing the feeling of his lips on yours. The warmth of his touch and the smell of his skin. “I missed you, I missed you so fucking much.”

For a moment you’re unsure if you should hold him tighter so he may never slip past your fingers again or let him ago lest he shatters like glass by the force of your touch. You know for certain that if love had been enough, he would have never left your side.

"I'm here," he murmurs, right as he brings a hand to your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that slipped out. "I'm here now."

“I- I- I had to pretend you were dead. I couldn’t take the uncertainty. I couldn’t take not knowing who you were anymore, not knowing if you were hurt, if you were okay—” you stammer. Your words spill out in a rush, bitter tears welling up in your eyes once more.

“You know me,” he breathes, with certainty in his eyes. He kisses your forehead. “Only you know me.”

You know me.

Your heart sings with the joy of being next to him again.

Over the years, there were so many things you wanted to tell him. You wanted to complain at times, about the most mundane problems, things like my favourite onigiri was sold out at the combini today, or I didn’t get the haircut I wanted at the shop. You wanted to pout, to cry in his arms, to have him kiss your forehead after a bad day.

And then there were the bigger things, things that weighed down your chest at night — things like one of the kids I’m in charge of was sent to fight a first-grade curse all alone and nearly died. I’m empty without you. I’m so afraid I’ll never be whole ever again.

You wanted to ask him questions too, like did you sleep okay? What did you have for lunch? Absorb anything cool you could show me? You’d never been interested in competition, simply fascinated by his technique. By how his mind worked.

By him.

You’ve never stopped wanting to be his.

You stumble towards the couch together, exchange messy, desperate kisses. Suguru pulls you onto his lap so you’re straddling him, another hand settling on your waist as you grind down on him. He’s intentionally letting you set the pace, slowing down so you can take charge.

“This is- ah- all very unlike you.”

“I’ve changed,” you whisper back resolutely.

“Is that so?” he teases. “I’ll have to take my time and find out how.”

Suguru’s hand finds its way up under your shirt, and your breath hitches when he unhooks your bra easily. It’s hard to contain your sounds as he cups your breasts, brushing his fingers over your hardened nipples. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched that you find yourself practically shaking from the stimulation, your movements stilled.

“You’re so sensitive,” he groans. “My pretty girl.”

It’s all a bit of a blur from there. The next moment, Suguru has you spread out on the couch, his hands holding your thighs apart while he dips his tongue into your dripping core. When he adds a finger in, you whine and buck your hips hard, earning a gentle nibble on your inner thigh.

“Stay still for me, baby.”

“Can’t, can’t, s’ too much—”

You’re naked except for your panties, tugged to the side as he hungirly laps at your pussy. It’s a filthy sight. The way Suguru’s lips shine with your slick in the darkened room, his pupils blown wide with pure desire. His hair slipped out of its bun some time ago, now a mess from your hands running through it.

You pull him up to kiss him just as he sinks another finger inside you, moaning into his mouth, raw and unrestrained as he grazes your sensitive walls.

“Want you- want you inside me, fuck. Please, please.”

“Okay, baby, okay—” you’re pulling off his shirt before he can even finish, tossing it across the room.

The light in the living room is dim, but even then it’s clear that he’s all broad shoulders and hardened muscle. He’s so different, and yet… entirely the same. Still feels like your Suguru. You were touching him earlier, but seeing him standing shirtless as he undoes his belt makes you dizzy with want.

He bends down and picks you up like it’s nothing, scooping you up in his arms and carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom.

You giggle into his neck, pretending to resist. “A big, bad man’s kidnapping me.” Your chest feels light in a way it hasn’t felt in months.

“That’s right,” Suguru laughs as he gently sets you down on the bed. “And I’ll eat you up if you don’t behave.”

The crinkling of his eyes and the genuine smile on his face are something you thought you would never see again. You hold his gaze for a moment, trying to capture it in your memory.

“Lie back,” he murmurs. “Let me look at you.”

You flush as you lie back down on the bed, heart thudding as you slowly spread your legs. He settles between your parted thighs before lowering down to kiss you.

It’s a mess - his fingers wet with your slick, his cock leaking precum as he taps it once, twice against your clit. It catches against your hole, making you gasp, before he eases himself in.

You both groan from the sensation. It’s so much, you feel him up to your stomach, and he’s pressing against your walls in a way that makes you breathless.

“I- hngh- it’s a lot. I haven’t- I haven’t-”

“Doing so good.” He soothes you with another kiss. “My pretty girl.”

Your head spins as he fucks you, mewling as you throb and clench around him. He pushes your legs up to your chest, and the new angle has him pushing into your deeper than before, the dizzying feeling of intrusion in your lower belly unrelenting as his cock kisses your most sensitive spots. You can only look at him helplessly, with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, as he fucks you.

You’re like a tied knot coming undone underneath him. Waves and waves of pleasure crash over you, leaving you unable to tell when one orgasm ends and another one starts. Suguru sings praises in your hair, and you grip onto him harder, wishing the moment would never end.

He flips you over so you’re on all fours, pushing down on your back so you arch for him. You start whining again, thighs quivering from your orgasm.

“That’s it,” he rasps. “You’re—” he grabs the meat of your ass and spreads you apart, “—so fucking hot like this.”

You grip and pull at the sheets, practically sobbing from the overstimulation. It’s so much all at once, the heavy pressure of his cock dragging along your walls, and you’re struggling to stay in place as he ruts into you.

You’re a shaking, mewling mess when Suguru finally finishes inside you, his warm cum filling you up and trickling down your thighs.

He collapses down beside you with a groan. You’re barely coherent, too caught up in the residual pleasure still washing over you.

You feel his arms wrap around you, a hand moving to stroke your hair. “Pretty girl,” he murmurs. “Angel. You okay?”

You nod faintly into his chest, still catching your breath. You think about all the times spent just like this; curled up next to him in a bed too small for the both of you. Your first kiss, your first time, your first love — it's been him from the very start.

If you could have just one thing; one selfish desire - it would be to keep this moment forever.

You turn towards Suguru, and he’s already looking at you, that same gentle affection on his face. His lips part, as if to say something.

That's when it hits you.

Sudden, sharp, and clear as day.

The real reason, that despite the yearning in your chest, you were so afraid of seeing him again.

Terrified, not of who they say he is now, and not even of the blood on his hands.

You were terrified he would appear at your door in the dead of night, looking at you with the same quiet fondness in his eyes. Terrified that with an outstretched hand, an open invitation, he’d undo everything you’ve tried to run away from with three simple words.

“Come with me.”

Terrified because you knew you would say yes.

The world wouldn’t be any kinder, your futures not any less uncertain.

But he’s here.

It would be enough for now.

a/n: this was a dynamic i really wanted to explore - someone who could meet suguru with a shared sense of understanding. where he won’t have to explain or justify his beliefs or traumatic experiences. thinking about the comfort they would probably find in each other... anyways please do let me know what you think! your likes, comments, and reblogs would mean so much to meeee <3

345 notes · View notes

uzurakis · 1 year ago

Text

"i just don't understaaaand," you slurred, hiccuping between the words. "why wasn't i, hic, enouuugh?"

the night was a haze of tears and drunken laughter as you vented your frustrations and heartbreak to suguru, ever the supportive best friend, stayed by your side. he listened intently whilst you nursed the sting of your recent breakup with a bottle of whiskey.

suguru sighed, purple eyes filled with empathy and eyebrows furrowed in remorse. "you’re enough and it's his loss, honestly. he didn't deserve you."

you took another swig of the whiskey, feeling the burn slide down your throat. suguru watched with concern as you took another, another, and another other until he gently took the bottle from your hand.

"hey, enough. that’s enough," he said softly, placing the bottle out of your reach. "you've had too much already."

you pouted, leaning against him heavily. "i can, hic, handle it! just one more drink, pleeaaase . .” granting him your doe eyes, believing that this appeal would make him yield. “suuuguuruuuu . . .”

"don’t ‘suguruu’ me," your best friend replied firmly. "nope. i'm cutting you off."

your eyes narrowed in engaging determination as you tried to reach past him for the bottle. he placed it further away on the table, just out of your grasp. you leaned forward, stretching your arm as far as you could, your fingertips just brushing the bottle's neck.

"come onnnn, suguruuu," your whining didn’t stop, every sentence was slurred and pleading. "justt one, one more sip. i swear!”

he shook his head, "you're going to regret this in the morning."

ignoring his warning, you leaned further, almost losing your balance as you reached for the bottle again. your body pressed against his as you stretched, your fingers just barely touching the bottle's edge before it slipped further out of reach.

when your fingers lightly grazed his hand while reaching for the bottle, he felt a flutter of nerves ripple through him. the casual touch of your skin against his sent a warmth spreading through his chest, making his heart beat just a little faster. he tried to act normal, keeping his breaths steady and his expressions neutral, but the truth was, he relished those moments more than he would ever admit, even if it was merely your skin grazing his. oh, how much he was longing for every piece of you. the proximity was intoxicating, and every time you leaned in closer, the guy found it harder to keep his emotions in check.

were you supposed to feel this way for your own best friend?

geto suguru forever questioned himself.

"suguruu, pleasee," you begged for the nth time this minute. he gulped, his resolve wavering slightly. but when you tried again, practically climbing over him in your attempt to grab the bottle, he gently but firmly pulled you back.

"okay, that's enough," he said, voice a little more stern. "you're going to hurt yourself."

you huffed in frustration, slumping back against the couch. "hmph, fine," you muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

suguru watched you for a moment, his eyes softening. he hated seeing you like this, no, he hated feeling like this. it’s miserable, his heart ached to comfort you, to hold you close and tell you everything would be okay, but he knew that his own emotions were a mess of longing and guilt. the more he tried to push his feelings aside, the stronger they seemed to become.

suguru felt trapped, his heart caught between wanting to be there for you as a friend and struggling with the intense feeling he felt for you. with a resigned sigh, he picked up the bottle and took a long drink himself, grimacing as the alcohol burned down his throat. it was still half full, but he drank it all in one go.

"there," he said, wiping his mouth, slightly grinning. "now you can't have any more."

“noooo!” you panicked, a little too loudly, and playfully grabbing his shoulders back and forth. "that was, hic, still mineee!”

he chuckled, the alcohol already making his head swim. "hmm that's what friends are for."

a comfortable silence settled between you two. now the room was spinning slightly from the alcohol, and the world felt a little softer, a little more forgiving. you looked up at suguru, noticing how close his face was to yours. his eyes were dark and filled with something you couldn't quite place.

just then, suguru leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. he could swear it was the alcohol, it wasn’t him. you froze for a moment, your mind clouded by the booze, and then you kissed him back. the world seemed to blur around you as the kiss deepened, both of you lost in the moment.

suguru’s lips were unexpectedly warm and soft against yours, and the moment they touched, the world seemed to fade away. the sorrow of your breakup, the weight of your heartache, all vanished in an instant. your ex was a distant memory, a shadow that no longer held any power over you. instead, all you could think about was suguru; way he had always been there for you, the way he had listened and comforted you without expecting anything in return. his touch, his presence, felt like where you should have been all along.

this time, you realized, with a sudden clarity, that suguru was the one who had always stayed by your side. it was him who cared for you, who truly understood you in a way no one else ever had.

his hand cupped your face tenderly, his thumb brushing away the last remnants of your tears. suddenly you felt sober again, under no influence besides the whole situation. in that instant, everything seemed to make sense. the pieces of your shattered heart were slowly mending, guided by the warmth of suguru’s affection. as you pulled back slightly to catch your breath, you looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of your own emotions; love, longing, and a deep, abiding connection that had always been there, just waiting to be discovered.

“suguru . .” you whispered.

“i’ve always been here,” he said quietly, his breath mingling with yours. “and i always will be.”

“so please, look at me this one time.”