#getou x y/n

[ryiju-muunie]

“A-A-Ah Suguru..” You couldn’t help but moan with each thrust, each blinding bout of pleasure sent through your tight cunt. Each time your boyfriend fucked into you, rutting with purpose, made it hard to bear.

“Y-Yeah? You like it?” He spoke through gritted teeth, holding back the noises of his arousal. The only other noise, between your incessant whining and the smacking of your hot skin together, was a bell.

It was strapped to the choker adorned on your and jingling with every movement. You felt like an object, something to be paraded around. Something to be fucked something that your lover- no, your owner could use to show everyone that you was property.

Your pussy squeezed at the thought, a shiver racing down your spine as you relished in it. You were owned. You were a thing that your Suguru could use to get off with, again and again. You were nothing more than wet folds and a pretty face, whimpering when the cockhead kissed that perfect spot.

Geto leaned forward, pressing his front to his little sluts back and grabbing you by the choker. It was a fluid and swift motion to bring you up, “I asked you a.. mm .. a question..” His voice was a low growl, a warning. It said don’t fuck with me, or else I won’t let up until you’re a hot and sticky mess. There was already that promise lingering in the air if his sub didn’t behave, but it was so much hotter to be confronted with the it.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned gutturally. The change in position was enough for Suguru’s cock to hit your g-spot and send you cumming, the bell ringing as your body began to thrash.

It was hot, how you squirted his release all over your joint mattress and down your fat thighs. It was hot, how you pressed against your master and ground your hips for release. And, *fuck*, it was hot when Suguru licked your earlobe and whispered, “Answer me.. pet..”

“Yes,” You breathed out, raising a hand to mess with the bell on your choker, “Sir,” you swallowed, “I’m yours.”

Strawpage | Bluesky

[sonarspace]

INK & SKIN (FT. CHOSO & GETO)

synopsis. who better to give you your first tattoo than choso's roommate, who walked in on you and choso a week ago. (can be read with or without the prequel) wc. 2.7k content. college au. choso x reader. geto x reader. choso x geto. choso x geto x reader. 3söme. ōral (deep thrōat. cūnnilingus.) slight vōyeurism. slight ëxhibitionism. unprotėcted. and just messy.

it had been a few days since the party, and you found yourself spending almost every night with choso, wrapped up in each other as if the world outside didn’t exist. tonight was no different; the warmth of his body against yours felt intoxicating.

as your fingers traced over the intricate designs of his chest tattoo, a thought crossed your mind. “you know, i’ve always wanted to get a tattoo,” you said softly, your eyes drifting over the ink.

choso raised an eyebrow, a smirk forming. “my roommate's a tattoo artist. i could take you to his shop.”

it was late, the kind of quiet that made you feel like the world was pausing just for you. choso walked beside you, flipping the "closed" sign on the door as you both entered the shop. your eyes scanned the room until they landed on none other than geto—headphones on, working on a stencil.

you froze. shit. it was him. the same guy who walked in on you and choso, his heated gaze still lingering in your mind.

“i think he’s busy, let’s go,” you muttered, turning away, but choso chuckled.

“he doesn’t bite,” choso teased.

before you could make a move, geto pulled out his headphones, casually greeting both of you. “hey,” he said to choso. his gaze furrowed as it landed on your back. choso nudged you to turn around, and geto’s eyes widened slightly, recognition dawning. it’s her. he swallowed hard, the memory of that night flashing in his mind. “hey…” your name slipped from his lips, voice smooth as silk.

geto stood up, the sound of his chair scraping lightly against the floor as he moved. he walked over, extending a hand first to choso with a casual smile, then to you. his fingers were cool against your skin as he shook your hand, his eyes holding yours for just a second longer than necessary. “nice to meet you... officially,” he said.

choso leaned back against the counter, watching the exchange with a smirk playing at his lips. “so, think you can fit her in tonight?” he asked, clearly enjoying himself.

geto’s gaze flickered from choso back to you, a slow smile forming. “i think i’ve got time for her,” he replied, turning toward his station. “what were you thinking of getting?”

your heart pounded as you tried to focus, but all you could think of was that night—his eyes meeting you in the mirror, the way he’d watched.

you hesitated for a moment, glancing at choso, who gave you an encouraging nod. “i was thinking about something small. maybe somewhere hidden, like on my ribs or hips,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

geto nodded, pulling out a sketchpad. “i can draw something up for you. any ideas?”

as you described what you had in mind, you noticed the way he focused, his brows furrowing slightly as he concentrated. there was something magnetic about him, drawing you in.

“i think i can work with that,” he finally said, a thoughtful expression on his face. he began sketching, his pencil moving across the paper.

as geto worked on the design, sketching a few different styles, choso moved closer to you. he gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your skin. “are you nervous?” he asked, concern lacing his tone.

before you could respond, he pressed a soft kiss to your neck, humming lowly. “i can feel your pulse racing,” he murmured, his lips lingering against your skin. “just calm down. geto’s good at his job.”

you tried to steady your breath, but his touch only made it harder.

geto finished up, glancing over at you and choso, a smirk playing on his lips. “you two look cozy,” he teased. “you can lie down here and let me know where you want it.”

you took a deep breath, your heart racing as you settled onto the tattoo table. “i’d like it on my hip,” you confirmed, glancing up at him.

geto nodded, motioning for you to pull up your shirt slightly. “here?” he asked, placing the stencil just above the peeking band of your pink lacey underwear. the design featured two heart-shaped cherries, intertwining with delicate vines, with the words stems of love written in tiny lettering.

as geto prepped the tattoo gun, choso leaned closer, his presence warm and reassuring. “you’re going to be fine,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze just as the needle touched your skin.

the initial sting made you flinch, but choso’s fingers ran through your hair, his touch calming you. “focus on me,” he murmured. you locked eyes with him, feeling the rhythmic buzz of the gun and the gentle pressure of geto’s hand on your thigh as he began outlining the design.

choso leaned in closer, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he pressed soft kisses against your neck. every brush of his lips sent shivers racing down your spine. you could feel geto’s eyes on you, and when he shot you that teasing smile, your heart skipped a beat. the buzz of the needle was a wild mix of pain and pleasure, heightening your senses. you bit your lip, feeling the needle glide over your skin while choso’s lips left a trail of warmth against your neck.

“you’re doing great,” geto said, glancing up from his work. the corners of his mouth lifted into a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you caught between pleasure and a hint of pain. “i can see you like all this attention, huh?”

“you have no idea,” choso chimed in, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he looked down at you. you playfully smacked his hand, narrowing your eyes at him.

geto chuckled. “i think she loves it, choso. look at that cute little blush.” he glanced up from the tattoo, then returned his focus to his work.

as geto resumed, you shot choso a sly look and mouthed, “you’re evil.”

but you were hyper-aware of geto’s elbow pressed against your thigh, not too far from where the wetness was growing. choso’s eyes flicked down, a chuckle escaping his lips as he noticed you squeezing your thighs together.

choso smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “someone’s getting a bit restless,” he said playfully. you shot him an indignant look, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

geto glanced up. “you’re distracting her,” he said.

“just making sure she’s comfortable,” choso replied, his eyes twinkling. “can’t let my girl get too worked up, right?”

you rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks only deepened.

“want me to make you feel good?” choso asked, his voice dropping low and sultry. before you could process his words, he moved behind the table, leaning down so his face was upside down, locked on yours. he gripped your jaw gently, his thumb brushing your lips.

you tried so hard not to squirm, to stay still as geto almost finished working on your tattoo.

“we can multitask,” choso murmured against your lips. his eyes flicked to geto’s hand as he finished the last details of the tattoo. choso's lips paused above yours as geto spoke up.

“all done”. he cleaned up, wrapping your new ink. you whispered, “want him to join us”.

choso’s smile widened as he glanced up at geto, both of them exchanging silent words. you sat up, your heart racing, with both of them now flanking you on either side. the intensity of their gazes made you want to sink into the ground—or more so, want them to sink into your holes and fill you up. “fuck,” you half-whined, crossing your legs as both of them looked down at you, matching chuckles escaping their lips.

geto tilted your chin toward him, tipping your head up to kiss you while choso pressed a kiss against your neck. you whined into geto's mouth, and choso smiled against your skin, trailing kisses from your neck to geto's neck.

you felt the world around you fade away, leaving just the three of you lost in the intimacy of it all.

geto’s grip tightened on the back of choso’s neck, pulling him closer as he joined the kiss. choso leaned in, their lips brushing against yours and each other’s, making you press against them. both of their hands moved over your front, palming your tits.

you pulled back from the kiss, gripping both their necks, forcing them to kiss each other while their hands roamed over your tits, squishing and teasing. leaning back on your arms, a moan escaped your lips as you pressed your knees into their crotches, feeling their growing hardness against you, fueling the heat building between the three of you.

they pulled away from the kiss, the three of you chuckling as your eyes locked. you slid off the table, standing between them. fingers fumbled with buttons and zippers as you helped each other strip away layers, laughter mixing with the heat of the moment. clothes hit the floor in a messy heap, walking the line between what was and what was about to be.

choso pulled you closer, lips crashing against yours, hands roaming your sides, fingers digging into your skin as he deepened the kiss.

your head spun, his taste intoxicating. geto’s body brushed against you, breath hot against your ear as he pressed kisses over your earlobe, licking the shell and pulling your hair back to shower kisses along your neck. his hands slid down to your panties, pushing your leg to angle you further apart while choso devoured your mouth.

“on your knees, choso,” he drawled. choso complied, pulling down your panties as he sank to his knees.

“grind on his face.” his voice dripped with authority— you’d jump off a cliff if he asked.

choso’s hands gripped your thighs, tugging you forward to sit on his face. geto watched, a smirk on his lips, as you tangled your fingers in choso’s hair, doing exactly as you were told.

with a slight tug, geto positioned himself behind choso, pulling him away from your slick heat to let a glob of his saliva drip onto choso’s tongue. “fuck it into her,” he commanded.

choso wasted no time, pushing his tongue between your folds and past that tight clench, mixing geto's saliva with your arousal. you rolled your eyes back, falling forward, one hand gripping the tattoo bed, the other clutching geto’s arms.

geto guided your hand down to the hardness in his boxers, letting you feel him. he tugged it down, and you moaned at the sight of him—slightly curved, flushed, such a pretty red. you wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth.

leaning forward, you wrapped your hand around his cock, stroking it slowly. the weight made you dizzy, thoughts swirling around how he would feel buried deep inside you.

your hand slid up and down his shaft, and the way he twitched under your touch made your heart race. you leaned in closer, pressing soft kisses along the tip, feeling the warmth radiate against your lips. you wanted him—needed him—so badly that it made your mouth water.

“fuck, you’re driving me insane,” geto breathed, and you looked up to see the heat pooling in his gaze. with a teasing smile, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his head, savoring the salty pre-cum that dripped from him.

the sound of choso’s hungry moans vibrated against your core, slick pooling between your thighs and on the sides of his face. choso gripped your thighs tighter, tugging you closer as his tongue flicked at your sensitive clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

“just like that,” geto encouraged, his voice thick with lust. “keep going.”

you obeyed, bobbing your head up and down on geto’s cock while choso worshiped your pussy. the air around you was filled with slurping sounds and moans, echoing through the tattoo parlor.

“god, you taste so fucking good,” choso groaned, and you felt your core tighten at his words. you could sense the urgency in his movements, the way he desperately tried to push you closer to the edge.

“just a little more,” geto coaxed, fingers tangling in your hair, guiding you deeper. you complied, relaxing your throat.

then, suddenly, choso pulled away from your cunt. he shifted, pushing his mouth between geto's thighs. he focused on geto's balls, sucking gently while flicking his tongue against them.

“f-fuck,” geto stammered, his breath hitching. the feeling of choso's mouth working so eagerly drove him wild. in a moment of pure instinct, he bucked his hips forward, pushing deeper into your mouth.

you gagged, the pressure overwhelming as you struggled to take him fully.

geto pulled you off his cock, a lustful glint in his eyes. “get back on the table,” he commanded, guiding you to sit back on the tattoo bed. choso adjusted his position behind geto, pressing kisses along his back and shoulders.

geto moved between your thighs, his mouth watering at the sight of you. “no wonder choso’s barely home,” he groaned, diving into your soaked folds.

the moment his tongue made contact, you gasped, back arching as geto began to devour you. his mouth moved hungrily, drinking you in as if you were the sweetest nectar.

choso watched, mesmerized by the way you writhed under geto's touch. before you could comprehend it, two tongues were stimulating your cunt, overwhelming your senses.

your hands tangled in their hair, pulling them closer as one tongue plunged into you and the pressed at your clit. you felt that sweet release building, threatening to spill over. geto's fingers flicked at your sensitive nipple, making you whimper.

with a desperate cry, you came, your body shaking as the orgasm rippled through you. they lapped at you like starved men, alternating between kissing your soppy cunt and each other. you could barely pull away, feeling overstimulated.

they both pulled away, breathless, their lips glistening with your release. leaning up, their mouths met yours in a messy, wet kiss that tasted of you.

hands tangled in each other's hair, you all deepened the kiss, tongues sliding against one another. spit spilled from the corners of your mouths as you breathed each other in, soft whines escaping your throats, blending into one another.

geto pulled back, lifting you with ease as he guided you to the couch. you sank into the cushions, and he knelt between your thighs while choso settled beside you, sitting on his knees on the couch. gripping geto’s chin, choso pulled him toward his cock. as geto began thrusting into you, he found a steady rhythm, and choso mirrored it, fucking geto’s mouth in sync. geto pushed deeper inside you while choso tugged at his hair, urging him to take more.

the room was thick with the messy sounds of pleasure—sloshing, gagging, moaning, and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin. geto's cock slid deeper inside you, perfectly in sync with choso fucking his mouth. choso gripped your chin, kissing you softly as he whispered, “such a sweet girl, taking him so well.” your moan vibrated against his lips, completely lost in the pleasure.

"suguru,” you cried out, your voice trembling as the tight coil inside you snapped. your body tightened around geto, spilling a low, needy groan, muffled by choso’s cock.

he pulled out of you, his mouth slipping off of choso’s length. both of them watched in awe as your cunt fluttered, drenched in your juices. the sight of you, head laid back on the couch, breathless, had them both groaning in unison. without breaking eye contact, the two raven-haired men stroked themselves, hot, sticky ropes spilling across your stomach and thighs, coating your skin in a messy sheen of white.

they let out soft, satisfied groans as they came down from their highs, fingers grazing over the mess they’d made. with a smirk, they brought their slicked fingers to your lips. you eagerly sucked them clean, gripping their wrists tightly, eyes rolling back at the mixed taste of you and them.

they moved closer, their lips pressing against yours, tongues intertwining in a hot, messy kiss. you all let out amused chuckles as you fumbled to connect. you pull back, looking between them with a soft smile as you stroke their cheeks, whispering, “my pretty boys.” the affection in your voice makes them both grin.

an. might be my last kinktober fic until 31st oct cause my schedule's getting really hectic *cries* more kinktober fics -> here! ⸝⸝ reblogs, likes & comments are appreciated

© SONARSPACE 2024 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[444sweetmourninglamb]

dog days

˚𝜗𝜚˚notes ➵ suguru x reader, smut, nsfw! backshots, missionary, suguru is somewhat manipulative, slight angst, reader is battling their own thoughts kinda, soft sex, fem reader, not proofread, slight angst, inspired by dog days by ethel cain

suguru was often busy with his cult, leaving little to no time to be with you. you loved him, that's why you came with him when he abandoned his old life. deep down, you didn't support his vision, but you loved him too much to just let him leave. you thought about him numerous times throughout the day, about how different your life would be if you didn't follow him on this path, but did you regret it? not one bit.

right now, he was thrusting into you so slowly, so lovingly. right now, his motives weren’t driven by lust, just love.

"god, you feel so good..." suguru breathed into the crook of your neck. his hands running along your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. he cupped your breast, which seemed so much smaller in his large palm. he continued thrusting into you, wishing he could see your pretty face. wishing he could see your pretty, plump lips parted as small moans fell from them.

he placed a kiss onto the back of your neck, trailing them across your shoulders and upper back, his fingers beginning to toy with your nipple. he trailed his kisses up to you ear before nipping at your earlobe. "i love you." he whispered into your ear.

"i- hngh...love you too..." you whimpered. of course you loved him. how could you not? sure, he changed, but everyone does. he was still suguru. your suguru. you loved him more than anything, and no one could ever love you the way suguru did, you knew that. his love was pure, he looked at you with affection rather than hunger.

his movements halted, pulling out of you. "lay on your back." he whispered, to which you complied. he angled himself between your hips and slapped his fat tip onto your clit a couple times before dragging it along your folds. he slid himself into your tight hole, groaning softly. his hips began to slowly buck into you before he rested on his forearms and kissed you. his lips gliding against yours so softly, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste more of you. your legs parted further as suguru kept fucking you so nice and slow before they encircled his waist.

the two of you moaned into the kiss, suguru breaking it to plant soft kisses along your jawline down to your neck. he brushed some of your hair away to reveal your delicate skin to him. his kisses were gentle with a firm pressure, occasionally pausing to nibble lightly. his warm, soft lips exploring the sensitive skin, finding the spots that caused you to squirm, soft gasps escaping your lips.

he pulled away from your neck to rest his forehead against yours, his beautiful eyes staring into yours. "no one's ever gonna love you like i do..." suguru breathed into your mouth.

"i know..." your response came out whinier than intended.

"say it." he growled, his hips bucking slightly harder to emphasize his words, which caused a soft moan to fall from those pretty lips suguru adored so much.

"no ones- hah~ ever gonna love me...like you do." you managed to mewl. his cock was so deep inside of you. "hnngh~ sugu-ruuuu...'m so close!" you cried out, your eyes screwing shut.

"yeah?" he teased, picking up his pace, to which you moaned slightly louder.

"y-yes!" you sobbed. suguru placed a kiss on your cheek before whispering in your ear.

"come f'me, baby..." he then nipped at your earlobe. stars filled your vision as suguru's fat cock kept abusing that spot inside of you. you buried your face in the crook of suguru's neck as your orgasm hit. "yeah, jus’ like that baby…" suguru moaned softly as he lifted a hand to cradle the back of your head. "'m close too..." he breathed out, picking up his pace a bit as his thrusts became sloppier. "fuck." he moaned, you felt him twitching inside of you as his release painted your insides, causing you to whimper.

after suguru rode out his orgasm, he pulled out. he collapsed onto the bed next to you, pulling you close to him. he planted a loving kiss to your temple. "you did so good." he murmured before placing another kiss in the same spot.

"mmh" you snuggled closer to him, seeking his warmth. he chuckled at your clinginess. "i love you." you mumured

"i love you too, sweet girl." he brushed some hair out of your face. "i'll be right back, 'm gonna go get a towel to clean you up." he said before kissing your cheek. you watched as he stood up and walked to the bathroom, his strong back decorated with scratches from your fingertips. while he was gone, you were left to your thoughts.

your mother didn't approve of your relationship with suguru. she didn't want him to corrupt you, your sweet soul, your soft nature. how could someone be so heartless? how could someone kill so many for their own selfish reasonings? their own parents, even? but she didn't get it. she didn't understand suguru like you did. he wasn't the monster your mother and many others made him out to be. he was gentle and worthy of love.

his hands brought fear to many, but to you? he wouldn't dare to hurt you. since your wedding with suguru, you haven't spoken much with your mother. when you do talk, it's her pleading you to leave suguru, how he's no good and you can still save yourself.

suguru returned, and his rough hands gently cleaned you up with a damp wash cloth. you knew suguru had flaws, but everyone does. if he was no good, then neither were you. neither was anyone.

dedicated to this angel @awrsy, i wanna fuck her more than i wanna fuck gojo

[renardiererin]

geto suguru is carrying around the heaviest dick, i just know it. he’d split you right down the middle. he could downright destroy your body. massive massive dick, and boy does he know how to use it. he’ll have you cumming for him over and over again til you’re too dumbified and fucked out to take any more.

“sugu, sugu! i can’t cum anymore, it hurts”

“oh but, pretty, i think you can.”

[mononijikayu]

stuff we did — geto suguru.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?” Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.” You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?” Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.” You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Modern AU;

WARNING/s: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/ Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Husband and Wife, Friendship, Husband! Suguru, Reader! Wife, Fluff, Comfort, Falling In Love, Pining, Slice of Life, Humor, Domesticity, Miscarriage, Infertility, Character Death, Depiction of Infertility, Depiction of Hospital Visit, Depiction of Illness, Depiction of Old Age, Mention of Miscarriage, Mention of Infertility, Mention of Character Death, This Is One Of My Favorites In A Long Whille, My Writing Vault Is Just Angst;

WORDS: 8.9k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was written a while while back and i just finished proof reading it to suit what i wanted to see. this was inspired by both queen of tears and the film up, which was just the most beautiful movie ive seen over and over. i hope you enjoy this a lot and that you'll be just as moved as me. i promise i'll be back with fluff soon enough!!! i genuinely cried at the end. anyway, i hope you love it. i love you guys!!! thank you for reading <3

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A WHOLE LIFETIME WAS WAITING FOR HIM. At ten years old, Suguru Geto was a dreamer with a spark in his eyes that hinted at a life full of exploration and wonder.

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It was an ordinary afternoon, the sun casting long shadows as you wandered through the neighborhood, when you stumbled upon the abandoned house. Its once-grand façade was now a patchwork of peeling paint and overgrown vines, and the wooden fence sagged in places, as if it were barely holding on to its secrets.

You had been intrigued by the house for weeks, often imagining what mysteries lay behind its dust-covered windows. That day, you decided to finally investigate, only to find someone already there. Suguru was crouched by the front gate, peering through the rusty bars with a look of intense concentration.

“Hey!” you called out, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. “What are you doing?”

Suguru looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and curiosity. “I’m trying to figure out what’s inside. This place looks like it’s been abandoned forever.”

You stepped closer, your own curiosity piqued. “Do you think it’s haunted?”

Suguru grinned, his imagination clearly running wild. “Maybe! Or maybe it’s just full of old, forgotten things. Either way, I bet there are some really cool secrets in there.”

You looked at the house, its weathered appearance now seeming a bit more inviting. “Do you want to explore it together?”

Suguru’s face lit up with enthusiasm. “Absolutely! Let’s make it our clubhouse. We can turn it into our secret base where we plan all our adventures.”

The two of you both pushed open the creaky gate and made your way up the overgrown path to the front door. Inside, dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight filtering through the broken windows. The air was musty, but the promise of discovery filled you with a sense of excitement.

“This place is amazing!” Suguru exclaimed, running his hand along an old wooden beam. “Imagine all the things we could do here, don’t you think? We could have treasure hunts, build secret compartments, and even create maps of our adventures!”

You smiled, already swept up in the excitement. “And we could scrapbook all of our adventures. I’ve got a ton of stickers and colored pens at home. We could make it like a journal of our explorations!”

Suguru’s eyes lit up with delight. “That sounds perfect. We’ll make this place the coolest clubhouse ever!”

With the possibilities swirling in both your minds, you turned to Suguru, realizing you hadn't properly introduced yourselves yet. “Oh, by the way, I’m…….”

Suguru grinned, his enthusiasm still bubbling over. “Suguru Geto. Looks like we’re gonna be partners in adventure!”

The two of you spent hours exploring every nook and cranny of the house. Suguru’s enthusiasm was contagious, pulling you deeper into the magic of the place. Every corner held a new discovery, a forgotten relic of time that sparked your imaginations. You both laughed as you uncovered old, dusty furniture, imagining all the stories it could tell.

Suguru, always the dreamer, crouched by an ancient-looking wardrobe and peered inside. “What if this belonged to a pirate?” he mused, brushing away cobwebs. “Maybe they stashed their maps and treasures in here before sailing off for another adventure.”

You chuckled, running your fingers over the faded carvings on a wooden chair. “Or maybe it was a writer, sitting here every night by candlelight, crafting tales of far-off lands.”

Suguru stood up, eyes gleaming. “We could be the next storytellers! We can make up stories about this place—maybe even start our own treasure hunt for future explorers.”

“I love that idea!” you grinned, already envisioning the elaborate maps and clues you could create together. “This whole house could be our playground.”

As you explored further, you found hidden doorways and forgotten passageways, each discovery filling you both with a sense of wonder. There was an old attic with creaky floorboards that groaned under your weight, and a cellar that held shelves of ancient, dusty jars—relics of a time long past. Suguru’s energy never faltered, and neither did yours. It was as if the house had become an extension of your shared imagination, every forgotten room a new world to explore.

At one point, Suguru turned to you, breathless from excitement. “Can you believe how much potential this place has? We could make it anything we want! A fortress, a secret hideout, a museum for all the stuff we find!”

You nodded eagerly, already planning how you’d decorate each room with artifacts from your adventures. “We’ll turn it into our own world.”

Suguru’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “We’ve gotta make sure no one else finds it, though. This is our secret spot.”

“Deal!” you said, sealing the pact with a grin.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the house, Suguru turned to you with a thoughtful expression. “You know, one day we’re going to see the whole world. Just like those great explorers. This clubhouse will be our starting point.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of deep connection with Suguru. “I’d like that. I think we’ll have the best adventures together.”

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YOU THINK THAT ADVENTURE WAS THE WAY TO GETO SUGURU’S HEART. When you started to get to know him, you couldn’t help but notice the way Suguru’s eyes seemed to sparkle with excitement whenever the topic of exploration came up.

It was as though each conversation opened a window into his boundless curiosity, and you found yourself drawn to the light in his gaze, the way it brightened with every new idea or story he shared. 

Geto Suguru’s fascination with the world wasn’t just a passing interest—it was a deep passion, woven into the very fabric of who he was. He could turn even the smallest details into an adventure, transforming mundane objects or places into portals to other worlds. You can tell that he was a born story–teller. Born to know the wonders of the wider world.

Whenever he spoke of famous explorers, his voice would rise with enthusiasm, as if their courage and daring lived within him. Marco Polo’s travels along the Silk Road, Amelia Earhart’s fearless flight into the unknown—Suguru recounted their tales with such vivid detail, it felt as though you were right there alongside them, venturing into uncharted lands.

“He didn’t just travel, you know what I mean?” Suguru once said of Marco Polo, eyes alight with admiration. “That guy managed to help open some doors to a whole new world. Can you imagine that? Being the first to set foot somewhere no one even knew existed?”

You nodded, already swept up in the vision he painted as you kicked your feet. “It’s like the whole world was waiting to be found.”

Suguru smiled, and there was a quiet thrill in his voice. “Exactly! That’s the magic of it—everything’s an adventure if you look at it the right way.”

It didn’t take long before his excitement became infectious. These days, you just feel like that when you are around Suguru. Just as quickly, you could only find yourself equally captivated by the idea of exploring far-off places and uncovering their mysteries. Geto Suguru had a way of making even the ordinary seem extraordinary. 

He would point out things that others might pass by without a second glance—a strange rock, an oddly shaped tree, or even the patterns in the clouds—and turn them into puzzles waiting to be solved. His mind was always buzzing with “what-ifs” and “maybes” sparking conversations that seemed to stretch on for hours as you both imagined worlds within worlds, hidden just beneath the surface of reality.

“I wonder what it would be like to be Amelia Earhart too!” he mused once, as you both sat on a hill, gazing at the horizon. “To fly into the unknown, chasing the horizon, not knowing what’s on the other side but going anyway.”

“Scary, but exciting, don’t you think?” you replied, feeling a twinge of that same wanderlust Suguru seemed to carry with him at all times. “It’s like you’re both lost and free at the same time.”

Suguru nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, that’s exactly it. The unknown is terrifying, but that’s what makes it so… beautiful. There’s always something more to discover. And I…I just can’t wait to find out all of it!”

It was moments like these that deepened your bond. His wonderment was contagious, and soon you began to see the world through his eyes, where even the smallest things held the promise of adventure. Whether it was the forgotten corners of an old house or the distant lands of long-gone explorers, with Suguru, everything became part of an ongoing quest. 

You realized that it wasn’t just about the places you would explore, but the way he looked at the world—with a wide-eyed excitement that made you feel like every day held a new mystery, waiting to be uncovered. And you wanted to be there with him. Just beside him. Because to be with him, you like to think that you would find nothing but a wonder if you were there.

He had a knack for finding the magic in the mundane, and it opened your own bright eyes to the wonders around you. What once seemed ordinary now felt like it held endless possibilities, all thanks to Suguru’s infectious spirit. 

He showed you that adventure wasn’t just something that happened in faraway places—it could be anywhere, even in the most unexpected moments. You didn’t have to cross oceans to find excitement; sometimes, it was right in front of you, if only you knew where to look. And with Suguru, you were learning how to see it.

This weekend afternoon, as you and Suguru sat cross-legged on the floor of your clubhouse, surrounded by colorful supplies and old maps, Suguru began sharing his latest dream with you. The sunlight streamed through the dusty windows, casting a warm, golden light on the room.

“You know…..” Suguru said, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “I read about this amazing place called the Himalayas. It’s full of towering mountains, and some of them are so high that they touch the sky. Can you imagine climbing one of those?”

You looked up from your sketchbook, eyes wide with wonder. “That sounds incredible! What would it be like to stand on top of one of those mountains?”

Suguru’s face broke into a smile as he imagined the scene. You like to think that he had the most beautiful smile in the world. “It would be breathtaking. You’d feel like you’re on top of the world. And there’s this special mountain called Everest—people say it’s like touching the edge of the heavens!”

With a gleeful chuckle, Suguru grabbed a pencil and began sketching a mountain range in your scrapbook. “We should definitely put this in our adventure book. We’ll draw mountains and imagine ourselves climbing them.”

You nodded eagerly, already picturing the pages of your scrapbook filled with sketches and notes. “Absolutely. And we can write about all the things we’d see and do. Maybe we’ll even draw ourselves in climbing gear, standing triumphantly at the summit!”

As the weeks went by, the scrapbook became a canvas for your shared dreams. Each page was a tribute to the places Suguru talked about with such passion. There were intricate drawings of ocean vistas, with waves crashing against rocky shores, and sprawling cityscapes with towering skyscrapers and bustling streets.

Geto Suguru’s descriptions were so vivid that you could almost hear the sounds and smell the scents of these distant lands. He just knew how to give you the wide world to you in the vibrant brighteness no one could.

As you worked on the scrapbook together, Suguru’s excitement reached a new peak. “I’ve been reading about this incredible city called Istanbul. It’s where East meets West, and there are markets full of colorful spices and beautiful mosaics everywhere. I think it would be amazing to see it in person.”

You looked at the sketch Suguru had just added, depicting a bustling market scene with vibrant colors and intricate patterns. “It looks so lively and full of culture. I’d love to experience it with you. Maybe we could even learn a few phrases in Turkish before we go.”

Suguru nodded, clearly thrilled by the idea. “Yes! And we can try all the different foods and maybe even buy some souvenirs to bring back to our clubhouse.”

As the scrapbook filled up, it became a treasure trove of aspirations and memories. The house, once an abandoned relic, was now a haven for your dreams, where the world beyond your doorstep felt just a little bit smaller and a whole lot more reachable.

As you look at him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your scrapbook would be an adventure as long as you had him.

IT WAS EASY TO SEE THAT YOU LIKED HIM. As the years passed, as you both grew older—the bond between you and Suguru deepened in ways that neither of you had anticipated. Nothing has changed and yet it has.

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You couldn’t even understand how you could describe it. What had begun as a playful friendship, sparked by shared adventures and dreams, evolved into a profound connection that anchored both of your lives moving forward.

The seasons changed, and so did the nature of your relationship. As the crisp air of autumn gave way to the first frost of winter, something subtle yet profound shifted between you two.

Your weekends, once filled with the solitary pursuit of sketching mountains far off in the distance or wistfully dreaming of cities you had yet to explore, began to take on a new rhythm. These quiet moments of creativity were now shared, woven into times of meaningful conversations that deepened your connection.

The clubhouse, once a refuge for your art and ideas, had evolved alongside you both. It was no longer just a place to retreat but had grown into a cozy home filled with warmth and a sense of belonging. The walls, once bare and practical, were now alive with a collage of your memories—scrapbook pages pinned up like trophies of the adventures you’d had together. 

Here, in the dim light of your clubhouse-turned-home, time seemed to slow. Conversations stretched long into the evening, filled with laughter, confessions, and sometimes a comfortable silence that spoke more than words ever could.

You realized that it wasn't just about the places you wanted to visit or the mountains you hoped to climb. It was about these moments—right here, right now—that had been shaping the most important journey of all: the one you were taking together.

You and Suguru sat on the porch of your clubhouse. The place had become a sanctuary for the two of you, and tonight, it felt even more so. Wrapped in thick, warm blankets, you watched the sun slowly sink below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of soft gold, pink, and lavender. The fading light bathed the world in a warm, almost magical glow, a contrast to the growing chill in the air.

But something else lingered in the quiet of that evening—an unspoken tension. Suguru, always steady and thoughtful, had been unusually silent. You could sense that something weighed heavily on his mind. His usual animated presence, the one that balanced your own, seemed subdued. 

He stared out at the trees, their leaves a patchwork of fiery reds and oranges, but his thoughts were clearly somewhere else. The contemplative look on his face was deeper than the usual moments of introspection he had.

You knew him well enough to understand that silence was part of who he was—he often found comfort in it—but this was different. This wasn’t just quiet; it was an absence of something.

The air, cool against your skin, seemed to press in, amplifying the stillness between you. It felt as if the world itself was holding its breath, waiting for something to be said. You didn’t push him; you knew better than that.

With Suguru, patience was key. He always opened up in his own time, and when he did, it was always worth the wait. You could tell he was wrestling with something important—something that couldn’t be rushed.

You glanced over at him, his face softened by the golden light of the setting sun. His expression was unreadable, yet you could sense the conflict beneath the surface.

It was as though the quiet had become a shield for him, a way to protect himself from whatever thoughts he was trying to sort out. You wondered if he even knew how to begin talking about it, or if he was still trying to make sense of it for himself.

The porch creaked as you shifted slightly in your seat, the only sound breaking the stillness. The leaves continued to fall, gently drifting to the ground, but the world around you felt frozen in that moment, waiting for Suguru to speak. Whatever was on his mind, you knew it was important, and you were ready to listen when he was ready to share.

You glanced at him, sensing that something was on his mind. “Hey, Suguru.” you said gently, “is everything okay? You seem a bit… distant.”

Suguru turned to you, his eyes reflecting the fading sunlight. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately,” he began slowly, “about us, and about everything we’ve shared.”

You felt a flutter of nerves in your chest but kept your voice steady. “What about us?”

Suguru took a deep breath, his fingers intertwined with yours. “You know how we’ve always dreamed about exploring the world together? Well, lately, I’ve been thinking that the greatest adventure of all is the one we’re already on. The one where we’re building a life together.”

You looked at him, your heart racing as you realized what he was about to say. Suguru’s face softened into a gentle smile, and he continued, “I love you. I’ve loved you for a long time. You’ve been my partner in every adventure, and I can’t imagine my life without you.”

The world seemed to pause as you processed his words. Your feelings for Suguru had grown from admiration and friendship into a deep, abiding love. You had felt it for some time but hadn’t fully acknowledged it until this moment.

“I love you too, Suguru.” you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. “You’re my best friend, my confidant, and the person I want to share my life with.”

Suguru’s bright purple eyes sparkled with happiness, and he reached out to hold you close. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, and you felt a profound sense of belonging. From that evening onward, your relationship transformed. 

You both began to plan not just for the next adventure but for a future together. You talked about dreams of traveling the world, but also about building a home, starting a family, and creating a life rich with shared experiences. 

The future you envisioned was no longer just about distant places or grand plans; it was about the everyday moments and the life you would build side by side. You found joy in the small things—quiet dinners, laughter over shared memories, and the simple pleasure of being together. And for each of those moments, you would both be together. For every last one.

And from that moment, everything felt like a flash, a blur of time passing with both rapidity and grace. Years slipped through your fingers like sand, but each one seemed to deepen the bond you and Suguru shared. 

You both arrived at the house, this time not as wide-eyed dreamers, but as people ready to take action. You were equipped with the resources, knowledge, and expertise that had been hard-earned over the years. What once seemed impossible now felt within reach.

The house had transformed, much like the relationship you shared. The wild, overgrown vines that had once snaked across its facade had been cut away, revealing the clean lines of the structure underneath.

The sagging fence, which had leaned precariously for years, had been replaced by a sturdy, welcoming one. Even the gate—the one that had creaked and stuck when you were kids—now swung open smoothly, inviting you in with a sense of ease and possibility. 

Standing there together, gazing at the house, the nostalgia hit you both in waves. You could still remember the first time you stumbled upon it, back when the future felt like a distant, far-off dream. But now, it wasn’t distant anymore. It was here, within your grasp.

The silence between you was comfortable, filled with anticipation and a shared understanding. You both knew this wasn’t just about restoring an old house. It was about building something together—something that was uniquely yours.

This house, with all its history and imperfections, was about to become the home you had always envisioned. It wasn’t just a physical space. It was a reflection of everything you had been through, everything you had grown into, and everything you had yet to become.

As you exchanged a glance with Suguru, you didn’t need words to know what he was thinking. The years had brought change, but they had also brought clarity. Together, you had always been building something—first with your dreams, then with your actions. And now, you were ready to take that final step, to make this place your home.

“Look at it, baby!” Suguru exclaimed, his voice filled with awe as he gazed at the house. His eyes sparkled with the kind of excitement and pride you hadn't seen in a while. “It’s incredible to see how far we’ve come. I remember the first time we explored this place, imagining what it could become.”

You nodded, your heart swelling with emotion as you took in the sight before you. “It’s amazing. It feels like we’re finally turning our dreams into reality.”

The house had been a vision for so long—an idea you had held onto through thick and thin. Now, as you stood in front of the freshly painted exterior, with the sun glinting off the windows and the scent of fresh grass in the air, it was hard to believe that this place had once been nothing more than an abandoned shell. But it was no longer just an idea or a distant goal. It was real, solid, and yours.

Suguru picked up a paint roller, dipped it into the bucket of soft, pastel blue paint you had both agreed on, and turned toward the wall with a grin. “This is the fun part, don’t you think?” he said, rolling a stripe of color onto the previously bare wood. “It’s like coloring outside the lines, but now we get to make the lines too.”

You laughed and grabbed your own roller, eager to join in. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, mister. This is a team effort.”

Soon, the two of you were painting side by side, your laughter filling the crisp air as you carefully applied the vibrant colors to your home. The soft hum of birds chirping in the distance and the gentle rustling of leaves set the perfect backdrop for your playful banter. Every brushstroke felt like a step closer to bringing your shared vision to life.

At one point, Suguru turned toward you, his roller dripping with paint, and a mischievous gleam in his eyes. “You know what’s missing here?” he asked, his voice playful.

You raised an eyebrow, pretending to be suspicious. “What?”

“An artist's touch!” Before you could react, Suguru flicked his roller in your direction, sending a spray of pastel blue paint across your shirt.

Your eyes widened in mock horror as you looked down at the splatters of paint now decorating your clothes. “Suguru!” you exclaimed, half-laughing, half-gasping. “You’re in so much trouble!”

Without hesitation, you dipped your roller into the paint and aimed it squarely at him, sending a cascade of blue across his chest. Suguru's bright purple eyes went wide in surprise, then he broke into a wide grin.

“Oh, it’s on now,” he said, stepping toward you with his paintbrush raised like a sword. What started as an innocent painting session quickly turned into a playful paint war, the walls momentarily forgotten as you splattered each other with streaks of pastel blue. 

You squealed as he rushed off with a dash and followed you. His laughter was just as much the best part of the progress you think. It was like the music that was missing in your life. And it never stopped that afternoon and you were content.

The soft spring breeze carried your laughter, and for a few moments, the rest of the world faded away. It was just you and Suguru, in the moment, covered in paint and joy.

At some point, you collapsed onto the grass together, breathless from laughter and covered in splashes of color. The house loomed behind you, its newly painted walls gleaming in the sunlight, but all you could focus on was the way Suguru looked at you, his face smeared with paint, his eyes filled with warmth and happiness.

He reached over and gently wiped a smudge of blue from your cheek, his touch tender. “Look at us, baby.” he said softly, his voice a mix of awe and affection. “We’re a mess, but this—everything we’ve built together—it’s beautiful.”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Yeah babe.” you agreed, your heart full. “It really is.”

Just like that, this once old abandoned soul was starting to come back to life before your eyes. It reminded you of all those dreams you had shared with Suguru for so many years. And in that moment, as you sat in the grass with your husband—covered in paint, laughter, and love—you realized that this, right here, was the real dream coming true.

That cool summer night as you both sat together on the porch of your newly renovated home, watching the sunset paint the sky with shades of pink and orange, Suguru turned to you with a contented smile. You had never seen him this happy in your entire lives together. And it suited him. More than you think he’d understand. 

“I never imagined this day would come, but here we are. Our adventures didn’t just remain on paper anymore, baby. They became a reality now.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of fulfillment. “It’s incredible. We’ve seen so much of the world, and now we have this beautiful home that’s a reflection of our journey.”

With your home now complete, you and Suguru embarked on a new chapter of your life.

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LIFE EVEN IN ITS MOST MUNDANE WAS EVERYTHING. As the years went by, your and Suguru’s paths continued to align in the most fulfilling ways. Suguru, inspired by his love for learning and his experiences, decided to become a teacher, just like you.

Both of you found immense satisfaction in shaping young minds and sharing your passion for knowledge. Your combined efforts in education became a cornerstone of your lives, and it was a field where your love for exploration and discovery seamlessly translated into inspiring others.

Your old friends, who had once joined you in those early childhood adventures, also found their way into the field of education. Together, you formed a tight-knit community of educators, all driven by a shared passion for helping students explore their potential. The clubhouse, once the backdrop for your childhood dreams, had become a symbol of your commitment to fostering curiosity and creativity in the next generation.

Even your nights you spent in your home were often filled with lively discussions about teaching methods, innovative ideas for the classroom, and the exciting possibilities of new educational tools.

Your love of exploration, once confined to distant lands, now found a new outlet in the classroom. You and Suguru worked together on projects that encouraged students to think critically and explore the world around them, just as you had done as children.

Suguru, with a nostalgic smile, traced his fingers over a particularly cherished page. “Remember this, baby?” he said, pointing to a sketch of the Himalayas. “We were so excited about climbing those mountains. And now, look at us—living our dreams and sharing them with others.”

You leaned against him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I do remember. And I’m so grateful for everything we’ve experienced together. This scrapbook is a reminder of how far we’ve come and all the dreams we’ve made real.”

As you both looked through the pages, you realized that the scrapbook was more than just a record of your adventures—it was a reflection of your journey as a couple. It symbolized not only the places you had been and the things you had done but also the love and partnership that had grown alongside them. Everything was perfect. Nothing could be better.

Your careers were flourishing, and life with Geto Suguru was a tapestry of shared happiness. The bond between you had only deepened over time, each day bringing a new layer of intimacy and understanding. 

It was as though your relationship had found a perfect equilibrium, a serene joy that seemed like it could stretch on indefinitely. Your home was filled with the warmth of laughter, the comfort of companionship, and the contentment of having achieved many of your dreams. But still, you felt like something was missing. And your husband knew it too.

Suguru, with his usual thoughtful demeanor, was the first to broach the topic. “You know, baby….” he began, his voice gentle but carrying an undercurrent of contemplation. “We've built something incredible together. Our careers, our lovely home… Everything feels right. But have you ever thought about what might come next?”

You turned to face him, curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?” you asked, sensing that there was something more beneath his words.

Suguru hesitated for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. “Well, we’ve talked about our future in many ways, but lately, I’ve been thinking about children. About…..about what it might be like to have a family of our own.”

Your husband’s tender words hung in the air, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. The idea had surfaced in fleeting thoughts and half-formed conversations, but hearing it out loud made it feel more real, more tangible.

You considered his words carefully. The thought of children had always been a distant possibility, a dream tucked away among other aspirations. But now, in the warmth of the evening and the comfort of your home, it feels different. It was no longer just an abstract idea; it was something you were both ready to explore.

“I’ve thought about it too, babe.” you admitted, your voice soft but filled with emotion. “It’s strange how this feeling crept up on us. I suppose we always knew that our life together would be about more than just us, that there would be something else to share our love and our world with.”

Suguru reached out and took your hand, his touch reassuring and full of promise. “I think it could be a beautiful next step for us, you know? I know it won’t be easy, and there will be challenges, but I can’t help but feel that it’s the right time.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a sense of warmth and excitement building within you. “I agree. It feels like we’re ready to open up to this new chapter. I can’t imagine doing it with anyone else but you.”

And that settled your desires to begin unfolding. You both wanted it — to have a family together, to raise a child that would be a reflection of your love. The excitement was palpable, filling the days with a hopeful kind of anticipation. You tried, again and again, but it wasn’t long before the first signs appeared, subtle at first. A growing worry gnawed at you, but you pushed it aside, willing everything to be okay.

Then came the miscarriage.

The room was heavy with silence, the kind that feels suffocating and oppressive. Your eyes were red from the tears you had shed, each one a testament to the depth of your loss. The sterile whiteness of the doctor's office seemed to mock the vibrant dreams you had once held.

The doctor’s words were like a sharp blade cutting through the haze of hope you had been clinging to. “You won’t be able to have children, Mrs. Geto. I am so sorry.” he said softly, his voice compassionate but firm. 

The words hung in the air, each syllable a painful puncture to the fragile balloon of hope that had floated between you and Suguru. At that moment, the world seemed to fall apart.

The colors of the room blurred together, the sounds of the doctor’s voice faded into a distant hum, and the only thing that remained was the crushing weight of the news. It was as if the very foundation of your dreams had shattered, leaving behind a void that seemed too vast to fill.

The future you had imagined—of shared late-night feedings, tiny feet pattering around the house, the joy of watching a child grow—was now nothing more than a distant, unreachable fantasy. The dream you and Suguru had so carefully built together crumbled, leaving behind an aching emptiness that felt like a gaping hole in your heart.

You looked at Suguru, and in his eyes, you saw the same devastation mirrored back at you. The strength and support that had always been a cornerstone of your relationship now felt fragile, as if the very fabric of your shared hopes had been torn apart. His hand reached for yours, trembling slightly, and you could feel the shared grief pulsing between you.

As you and Suguru drove home, the silence in the car was almost unbearable. The world outside seemed muted, as if the colors and sounds had been drained away. The roads stretched out in front of you, but they felt meaningless, like they led nowhere important. The weight of the news settled heavily on your shoulders, and neither of you knew how to break the quiet.

For days, you were unapproachable, lost in a fog of devastation. The loss felt like a gaping chasm that nothing could fill. Conversations became infrequent and strained, and even the comfort of routine seemed distant and hollow. Suguru was there, his presence a constant but silent support, and though he tried to offer solace, the words and gestures seemed inadequate against the depth of your shared grief.

The stillness in the house felt almost oppressive. You found yourself sitting alone in the backyard, the garden now a quiet reflection of your internal turmoil. The familiar sight of your favorite flowers and the gentle rustling of leaves seemed to offer no solace. You sat there, wrapped in a blanket of melancholy, trying to make sense of the void that had settled in your life.

Suguru came out and joined you, quietly taking a seat beside you on the patio. He took a deep breath, the kind that seemed to carry the weight of the world. For a moment, he just sat there, gathering his thoughts, his presence a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions.

“You know, baby…..” he began softly, his voice breaking the heavy silence, “it’s okay to feel like this. It’s okay to not have all the answers or to be okay right away.”

His words were simple but carried a depth of understanding that only someone who truly cared could offer. You turned to look at him, seeing the pain and determination in his eyes.

“I don’t know how to move past this.” you admitted, your voice cracking with emotion.

“I know.” He whispers to you with tenderness. Tenderness you will never truly deserve. “But you know, baby…..We’ll always be together.”

“I know that.” you retorted, your voice tight and strained as you tried to contain the wave of emotion threatening to break free. “But I just… I wish I could have given you a child, you know?  A child that’s a mix of you and me. I just…”

Your words trailed off, leaving a raw vulnerability exposed. The weight of your regrets hung heavily in the air, mingling with the sorrow that had become a constant companion. Suguru’s eyes, usually so full of life and energy, now reflected a deep, pained empathy. 

His purple orbs roamed over your face, taking in the sight of you so broken and anguished. The sight of you in such distress was almost too much for him to bear. His own heart ached at the realization that there was little he could do to ease your pain.

“Does our lifetime of love need to leave evidence?” Suguru asked softly, his voice tender yet resolute. “Does…..does it need more than what there is?”

His question wasn’t just a consolation; it was a reflection of his deep belief in the essence of your relationship. You turned to him, the tears welling in your eyes now spilling over, blurring your vision. The raw honesty in his words cut through the fog of your grief, reaching the core of your heart.

“We have each other now, baby.” Suguru continued, his voice steady and filled with conviction. “And we love each other. That’s all that matters.”

His words were simple but powerful, a balm to the wound that had seemed insurmountable. His words broke something inside of you, not in a painful way, but in a way that let all the pent-up sorrow flow out. 

You sobbed, burying your face in your hands, and Suguru wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you cried. He didn’t say anything more—he didn’t need to. In his embrace, in the warmth of his presence, you found the reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

You cried for the loss, for the future you had dreamed of, but you also cried for the love you still had. Suguru was right. You had each other, and in that love, you found strength. That’s all that truly mattered.

Geto Suguru held you close as your tears flowed, his hands gently rubbing your back, whispering words of comfort that barely reached your ears. But his presence, steady and unwavering, spoke louder than any words could. 

In his arms, you found a fragile sense of peace, a reminder that even in this moment of heartbreak, you weren’t alone. His touch was familiar, grounding, and you turned to look at him. There was a tenderness in his eyes, a deep understanding that made your heart ache in the best way. He smiled at you.

“I know this isn’t what we imagined.” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “But I’ve been thinking… Maybe it’s okay if our love doesn’t leave a legacy in the way we thought. Maybe our love can just be… us.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the weight of his words settling into your heart. Suguru had always been your anchor, the person who knew how to pull you back when the world felt too overwhelming. In that moment, you realized that maybe he was right. 

Maybe your love didn’t need to be measured by the future you had imagined, by the children you thought you would have. Maybe it was enough to have each other, to share this life together, and to hold onto the love that had always been there. Maybe this was all there has to be. Maybe….this was enough.

Tears filled your eyes again, but this time they weren’t filled with sorrow. You squeezed Suguru’s hand, leaning into his warmth. “I love you.” you whispered, your voice cracking with emotion. “I love you so much.”

He pulled you into his arms once more, his lips brushing against your temple. “I love you too. Always.”

In that quiet moment, you realized that while the future you had once dreamed of was no longer possible, there was still a future waiting for you. A future where it was just the two of you, building a life together, creating memories that were uniquely yours. And as long as you had Suguru by your side, that was enough.

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YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOUR HUSBAND’S DREAMS WERE BEAUTIFUL. Even after everything, your husband Suguru had always been a dreamer. He never gave up even after the rollercoaster life had dealt you. Everything you both went through—the heartache, the healing—he found a new dream. It was no longer about building a family or leaving a legacy. 

His new dream was much simpler, yet so much more meaningful: seeing the world with you. He wanted to explore every corner of the earth by your side, to share in the beauty of new experiences together, and to make memories that would last a lifetime.

There was one place, in particular, that you had always talked about—Grindelwald. The snow-covered mountains, the crisp winter air, the breathtaking views from atop the peaks.

It was a dream you had held close for as long as Suguru could remember, and now, it had become his dream too. He wanted nothing more than to take you there, to hike those snow-dusted trails and see the world unfold beneath you, together.

The two of you started saving for the trip, setting aside small amounts whenever you could. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep the dream alive. But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Each time you neared your goal, something else would come up—unexpected expenses, repairs, emergencies. And each time, you had to dip into your savings, pushing the dream further and further away.

The years passed, and the dream remained just that—a dream. Life after all was always busy, life had always had other plans. But you were just happy, being with him. Being together was more than enough.

Yet, Geto Suguru never gave up. He never forgot the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about seeing pictures of Grindelwald, and he was determined to make it happen one day, no matter how long it took.

Then, one quiet evening, many years later, your husband Suguru sat across from you, his once dark hair now streaked with bright vibrant silver. His hands were still steady, but time had softened their strength. He looked at you with the same love he always had, and there was something different in his eyes—something hopeful, something excited.

“I have a surprise for you, baby.” he said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two plane tickets, holding them out for you to see.

Your heart skipped a beat as you read the destination: Switzerland.

“We’re going, finally!” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re finally going to see Grindelwald.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, a cascade of emotions threatening to spill over, but before you could voice a response, an unfamiliar, sharp ache deep within your body made you pause. It was a discomfort that had been gnawing at you for some time, a persistent shadow that you had tried to ignore. 

At first, you dismissed it as stress or perhaps a lingering side effect of the emotional turmoil you had been through. But as the days turned into weeks, the ache intensified, becoming an unwelcome companion in your life.

You tried to push through it, attributing it to the residual strain of the recent loss and the emotional weight you were carrying. Yet, the pain was relentless, and it wasn’t long before you knew you could no longer ignore it. After several visits to various doctors, numerous tests, and consultations that felt endless, the diagnosis finally came: cancer.

The words hit you like a physical blow, the gravity of the diagnosis sinking into your bones. Cancer. It was a term that seemed to hang in the air, heavy with implications and uncertainty. The doctors’ explanations, though thorough and compassionate, felt distant and detached, as if they were speaking a language you couldn’t quite grasp.

The news was like a seismic shift in your world. It felt as though everything you had been trying to hold together was unraveling. The tears that had been welling up before were now flowing freely, mingling with the shock and fear that gripped you. You tried to process it all, but the weight of the diagnosis was overwhelming. It was as if the universe had decided to compound your grief with a new and daunting challenge.

You found yourself grappling with the implications of the diagnosis, trying to come to terms with the reality of what lay ahead. The future that had once seemed so full of potential and hope was now clouded by uncertainty. The plans and dreams you had cherished were overshadowed by the looming shadow of illness.

Suguru was there, his presence a steady anchor amidst the chaos. His own emotions were a mix of concern and determination, but he tried to remain strong for you. In the quiet moments, as you both grappled with the weight of the diagnosis, he held you close, offering a solace that words couldn’t fully convey.

Everything about it was a crushing blow. But Suguru held firm and so did you. You wanted to fight it. After all that time, your dreams together were about to come true. You didn’t want to give up just yet. You wanted to live on. You wanted to go. You wanted to have more time. With him. 

But life wasn’t always as one wants it to be. You were admitted to the hospital soon after, the trip to Switzerland slipping away, replaced by sterile rooms and treatment plans. Geto Suguru was devastated. He had waited so long, saved so carefully, and now, just when it seemed possible, this had happened.

But as you lay in the hospital bed, weakened but still filled with love for the man sitting beside you, you knew there was something more important than the trip, more important than the dream that never came to be.

You called him over, and with trembling hands, you handed him the scrapbook you had kept over the years—the one filled with all the adventures you’d already shared, the places you had seen together, the memories you had created.

“You’ve always been my greatest adventure, you know?” you said softly, your voice a little hoarse. “We may never get to see Grindelwald together, but that doesn’t mean the dream has to end.”

Your husband Suguru looked at you, his eyes filled with tears, unable to speak. 

“I want you to keep making memories, Suguru. I want you to keep having adventures. Take the tickets, go see the world… live for both of us. Because as long as you’re alive, as long as you’re making memories, there will always be evidence that I live on too.”

Suguru’s hand tightened around yours, his tears finally falling. He shook his head, unable to imagine a world without you, without your shared dream. But you smiled, reaching up to touch his cheek.

“You’ve always been the dreamer, Suguru.” you whispered. “Don’t let that part of you die. Keep dreaming, keep living for me, for us. Our love… it’s more than just a place or a moment. It’s a lifetime of memories. And as long as you’re out there, making new ones, I’ll be with you.”

Suguru nodded, his heart breaking but understanding what you meant. You had always been his greatest love, and now, even in this painful moment, you were still giving him the strength to carry on.

As he sat by your side, holding your hand tightly, Suguru made a silent promise—to keep your love alive, to honor the life you had shared, and to one day, perhaps, stand atop those snow-covered mountains of Grindelwald, knowing that you were with him in every step, in every breath, in every memory he made.

▃▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▂▃

HE WASN’T GETTING ANY YOUNGER. But he still had a promise to fulfill to you. Geto Suguru stood at the base of the trail, staring up at the towering Alps, their snow-covered peaks gleaming under the summer sun.

The path before him was steep, challenging, but it was the journey he had promised to make—for you, for both of you. He reached up to touch the small locket that hung around his neck, a picture of you carefully tucked inside. Your smile was his anchor, even now, long after you were gone.

The climb was grueling, especially for someone his age. His knees ached, his breath came in short, shallow gasps, but he pressed on. The crisp mountain air filled his lungs, reminding him of the dream you had shared for so many years—to see Grindelwald together, to hike these mountains and stand at the top of the world.

As he ascended, memories of you filled his mind. He could still hear your laughter, feel the warmth of your hand in his, see the way your eyes lit up whenever you talked about this place.

It had been your dream, but over time, it had become his as well. Even after all those years of saving, when life had repeatedly forced you to spend the money on more pressing needs, the dream had never faded.

Now, finally, he was here. But he was alone.

Each step was harder than the last. The trail wound higher and higher, becoming more treacherous, but Suguru refused to stop. He clutched the locket, his fingers brushing over the metal as if your presence was embedded within it.

“I promised you,” he whispered to the open air, as though you were walking beside him. “I promised we’d see this together.”

It took hours, his body protesting with every movement, but at last, Suguru reached the summit. The world spread out before him, vast and beautiful, with the jagged peaks of the Alps stretching into the distance. The view was breathtaking—just as you had always said it would be.

He stood there, chest heaving, staring out at the endless sky. Tears welled in his eyes, not from exhaustion, but from the sheer weight of the moment. He opened the locket and gazed at your face, your smiling eyes staring back at him. You should have been here with him. You should have seen this with your own eyes.

“This is for you, baby.” he murmured, his voice cracking as tears spilled down his cheeks. “We made it, love. We’re finally here.”

Suguru stood there for what felt like an eternity, just holding the locket and letting the wind carry his words. The silence of the mountains felt sacred, and for a moment, he could almost feel your presence beside him, hear your voice on the breeze.

After a long while, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, framed photograph—the two of you, from years ago, standing side by side, laughing as the sun set behind you. It was a moment of joy, of love, captured forever. He knelt down carefully and placed the frame on a small, flat rock at the very peak of the mountain. The picture stood there, delicate but steadfast, a testament to the love you had shared.

Suguru stood back, his gaze soft as he looked at the photo. He ran a trembling hand through his silvered hair, then placed his hands together, pressing the locket to his chest. “We don’t need evidence for our love, you know that, baby?” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I want… I want everyone to know that there was love somewhere.”

His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and a bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“And it will be here. Always.”

The wind picked up, rustling the leaves and the grass around him, as if the earth itself acknowledged his words. Suguru stood there, the weight of his age and grief heavy on his shoulders, but in his heart, there was a quiet peace. This was your place now, your memory, your love, etched into the mountains for all time.

As the sun began to dip lower on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the Alps, geto Suguru turned and began his descent. With each step, he carried the knowledge that your love was eternal, not bound by the constraints of time or place. It lived on—in the memories, in the moments, and now, on the very peak of the world.

[queenpiranhadon]

╰┈➤ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ʚɞ .ᐟ: Before going to bed, your twin daughters Nanako and Mimiko ask your husband for a bedtime story - the story of the day you two first met.

ʚɞ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: No curses AU (?), light cursing (they're crossed out because it's a bedtime story), whether Mimi and Nana are adopted isn't really specified so it's up to you, f!reader, you and Suguru are married, fluffy fluff, Suguru used to play basketball

ʚɞ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Suguru Geto x Reader

𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: ʚɞ

"Okay girls, time for bed."

Your twin daughters, Mimiko and Nanako eagerly dash to their beds, getting under the covers and staring at your husband in anticipation.

"...What?" Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't a stranger to his daughters' antics, and the eager gleam in their eyes was unmistakable.

"Can you tell us a bedtime story Daddy?" Mimiko asks, flashing her infamous puppy dog eyes in his direction.

"Yeah! About the time you and Mama met. Pleaaseee?" Nanako pleads, and Suguru groans.

Out of the two of you, though he hated to admit it, Suguru was definitely the weaker link when it came to your daughters.

He sighs. ""Fine, but only if you promise that you'll go straight to sleep after that."

The girls squeal excitedly and nods, situating themselves underneath their covers.

Suguru sits on the chair between the two beds, and turns on the little night light on the night stand.

"Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a boy who was on the the school basketball team."

Suguru remembers the day like it was yesterday. It was sometime in the fall during his senior year of high school, at the peak of Jujutsu High's basketball season.

He and his best friend Satoru were playing together after school had ended, just shooting hoops in the gymnasium until things got a little too... competitive.

"Pfft you're selling so hard right now Suguru!"

"Shut the fuck up Satoru - You couldn't pass a ball if your life depended on it!"

"How's this for pass, huh?" the white haired male challenges, but in an underestimation of his own strength, Satoru manages to throw the ball so impossibly high it sails through the air and into a window, shattering the glass and tumbling straight outside.

"Shiiiiiitttt... Well that's not great." Satoru says, and Suguru send him a withering glare.

"I'll get the damn ball- you figure out how to fix the fucking window before Coach Yaga gets here."

Satoru whines, groaning as he limply stands in the center of the court. "Wha- Suguru don't go! How am I supposed to fix a window?!"

Suguru just rolls his eyes, pushing open the double doors."Aren't you rich? Just figure it out."

"Bu-"

Running through the school doors, Suguru catches a flash of orange in his peripherals, eyes widen in horror as the basketball rolls down the street into oncoming traffic.

Shit! Shoot!

Suguru groans, racing down the sidewalk, hastily apologizing as he dodges random people walking across the same pavement.

Suddenly, his eyes lock onto the basketball halfway through the street, somehow still rolling - the ravenette wincing as it narrowly misses being flattened by a car.

Suguru grumbles. Fixing a window sounds a lot easier than this shit right now.

Reaching the end of the sidewalk, his eyes dart to orange ball again, incredulously watching it roll across the entire traffic ridden road with ease and making its way down to the park, tumbling even faster down grassy mounds.

How the fuck heck was it still rolling?!

Nanako gapes at her dad. "It was still rolling?"

Suguru nods, chuckling wryly. "It wasn't even too windy that day, I don't know how it managed to go that far."

Mimiko mirrors her sister's stupefied expression. "Did Uncle Satoru throw it that hard?"

He chuckles, amused by how invested they were in the story."I don't honestly don't know girls - maybe you should ask him."

Nanako nods decisively. "Okay Daddy, you can continue your story!"

Suguru rolls his eyes but smiles. "Anyways..."

Watching the basketball, he lets out a sigh of relief as it rolls to a stop in the middle of the park. The LED sign on the opposite side on the road indicating he can cross, and he dashes across the white lines marked on the road, racing down the grassy hills only for some random kid to come up and kick the ball further away from him.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Suguru grumbles under his breath, legs starting to burn a little as he chases after the ball.

Finally stopping at the base of the hill, he panics.

Where did the ball go?!

It was like it disappeared out of thin air, and he groans, a feeling of hopelessness and dread washing over him. $60 dollars down the damn drain - oh god his dad was going to fucking kill him.

"What basketball costs 60 dollars?!" Mimiko asks.

Suguru shrugs. "It was a good basketball."

"And you threw the expensive basketball out the window?!" Nanako asks incredulously.

"Once again, that wasn't me, that was Uncle Satoru."

"If I had an expensive basketball, I wouldn't let it leave the house." Mimiko says, and Suguru sighs.

Sometimes, his girls' cleverness could be a little tiring to deal with.

"Do you want me to get to the good part or not?"

"Yes please!"

"Moving on..."

Suddenly, Suguru feels a tap on his shoulder.

"Um...sorry, is this yours?"

Nanako gasps. "Is that-?"

"Nana be quiet!" Mimiko chides.

Suguru turns around, eyes widening as he comes face to face with one of the prettiest girls he's ever seen.

You're a junior in high school around this time, attending a different school, but you happened to be in the park at the time, studying for an upcoming test, when a basketball rolled up and bumped into your feet. You were confused, but it wasn't hard to notice Suguru visibly panicking in broad daylight - and so you put the pieces together.

"I was not panicking!" your husband protests. "And this is my story, not yours."

You snort, entering your daughters' room. "Yes you were. You had this terrified look on your face, like the world was ending or something. Plus, if you're going to tell a story, tell it accurately at least."

Nanako and Mimiko grin up at you. "Hi mama!"

You smile warmly, kissing their foreheads lovingly, before raising an eyebrow at your husband, sitting on the edge of Mimiko's bed. "Weren't you telling a story?"

Suguru grumbles. "I was, until someone interrupted."

You wave your hand dismissively. "Don't let me stop you then."

Your husband rolls his eyes, continuing on.

"Here, I think this belongs to you." You say, handing the ball over to you.

Suguru stares at you, stunned."T-Thanks."

You give him a small but sweet smile. "I'll see you around?"

He nods, still in a trance, feeling like he's 12 years old again with a crush on some pretty girl he's met at the park.

"Yeah...I'll see you around."

Nanako giggles. "Oooooo Daddy's in looooveeeee~"

Mimko stares at him skeptically. "Are you sure that story was real?"

Suguru winks at her, raising his eyebrow. "Well I guess you have to decide."

"Do you believe in fairytales?"

A/N: Sorry if the shift between the story and the present was confusing 😭

𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @tootiecakes234 @gina239 @its-liberty-frazblair @lilyadora @callmeanythingyouwant00

@milkm4nz @lightsgore @skaiblu-e @that-one-lightskin @hahajsphaha

@beaniesayshi @abinformyobsessions @sharycatx3 @meddykip @riririr11

@ladygojooo @abyzissupersleepy @lilaccmilk @anime2006

[todorokies]

RUMOR HAS IT - suguru geto

✩࿐ the streets of london have now been considered a danger for citizens when a blood hunger vampire prowls looking for their next lady in waiting . . .

contents: very suggestive, fem!reader, vampire!geto, geto is bewitched by you(r blood), nanami cameo, nineteenth century gothic victorian era, this leans towards the thriller side, reader is a bit naive, a wee bit of manipulation, blood drinking, usage of ‘m’lady’, inspired by the song ‘rumor has it’ by adele & this tweet, 2.5k words

a/n: there is a lot of imagery written !!! i truly hope u all like it, reblogs & supportive feedback is welcome ik the wc is a lot but pls bare with me :”) . . . apart of @kentopedia’s ‘love through the ages’ collab

the sun has begun to shift into its everlasting transition of casting soft orange hues of light that are softly entangled with a dark shade of blue that covers up above. the moon had tucked its companion away for the time being as it began to come into view.

the current state of main street however didn’t reflect the tranquillity of peace; the town clock had loudly reverberated alerting the public of the danger that would soon lurk.

citizens both young and old trampled out of buildings leaving a simple gust of wind in their wake to reach their residences.

a curfew had recently been implemented by the town council in order to reduce the sudden influx —dubbed as animal attacks— of women being found lifeless on the cold streets, with their blood being completely drained from their bodies.

but alas, the troublesome rumours of the attacks being performed by a person rather than an animal, rattled in, heightening the unpleasantries.

the rotten smell of fear lingers in the air with the pumping adrenaline coursing through the towns folks veins. if the perpetrator weren’t foolish enough, an entire course meal has been presented onto a platter for them.

“staring won’t do you any good if you end up dead.” nanami, your coworker, noted who was packing the last of the bakery’s unsold goods in a bag to be taken home.

you quickly drew away from the windowsill, “doesn’t the site of it all make you miserable. this new curfew has done nothing but made everyone even more frightened.”

nanami’s features softened and pursed his lips in a thin line before sighing. “the curfew is sensible in hindsight, but when rules are enforced people have a sudden urge to break them, mainly to figure out what animal—”

“—or person,” you sharply cut him off which causes his eyebrows to crinkle.

“i mean, let’s face it, what kind of animal leaves two perfectly clean puncture wounds on the neck and abandons the body as it is without any carnage?”

a beat follows before you continue, “this is obviously the work of some mad scientist in town looking to make a name for themselves.”

he sighs, “animal or …person, you shouldn’t be standing here chatting with me about it.”

his eyes twinkle with remorse whilst handing the bag of baked goods over to you, “i could chaperone you to your residence, you do live on the outskirts of town. i deeply worry about your safety.”

you lightheartedly scoff, politely waving off the suggestion. “nonsense kento, i always seem to have luck on my side, the walk home will be uneventful as always.”

he frowns at this.

you can be extraordinarily stubborn at the most inappropriate times.

“besides what would society think once they see an unwed woman getting escorted by the opposite sex. you should hurry home yourself! send my kind regards to yuuji for me.”

you bunch up the detailed lace of your overflowing gown in one hand while holding the brown bag of pastries in the other.

swiftly scurrying off into the abandoned streets, “do take care of yourself!”

“get home safely and hurry before the streetlights turn on!” nanami yells out the door before locking up the establishment and heading on his own way.

the cobblestone beneath your feet painfully ached and crumbled apart with each passing step you took. shutters from other houses forcefully swung open from the wind that picked up overtime, soon a ghastly fog began to move in, hindering some of your vision.

you truthfully dreaded this. nanami’s offer is still mulled in the back of your head, you mentally slap yourself for dismissing a comforting and preferably safer option of returning home.

however, dwelling on the what if’s have never been your cup of tea, instead you attempt to take in the scenery of the town in it’s glory.

the eerie atmosphere reminded you of an agatha christie novel you’ve once read. the fond memory warms you up in the dead of night.

soon your manor appears into view. relief immediately washes over you, a small breath of air exited your lungs.

but then you hear it; an extra set of footsteps a mile or two from behind you that rippled the cement.

too heavy of a stride to be another woman in heels and too human-like to be a four legged animal. with each step you took, they would take on another, almost in sync to throw you off their suspicions.

you felt bare and exposed as the only thing that you could focus on was the tangible breeze rattling your bones, fingers turning numb and losing its feeling. your head buzzed considering the only two options to best handle the situation: continue the venture to your housing or confront the entity.

continuing your journey would result in the mysterious entity gaining knowledge of your location. whereas, standing idly waiting for the perpetrator’s next move would result in you being the newspaper’s front headliner.

you’ve concluded the mental battle with yourself on cutting through the woods and loosing whomever is behind you in the dust.

just as you were about to pick up your feet, a tap by a set of fingers rippled against your shoulder causing you to shriek.

“m’lady, i believe you dropped this.” a sultry voice booms through your ears that belonged to a man so majestic you couldn’t comprehend. your breath staggers while your mouth hang slightly agape.

he was as pale as a lilith in its full bloom but still managed to glisten under the moonlight. monolid eyes sharpened that showcased nothing but intensity and gluttony.

you couldn’t dare away, especially not when his gaze has your flesh burning to the touch as heat pools between your legs, an endless void of lust and mystery.

somehow breaking out of his enchantment, you regain consciousness, blinking away the blurriness and swiftly take the handkerchief he handed to you and stuff it in your dress pocket.

“o-oh, thank you kind sir,” your words heavily slurs past your lips.

his overwhelming aura seemingly switches, presenting more of a laid back approach when speaking to you.

“what’s a dream like you doing roaming the streets at this hour?” he inquired.

it’s almost like whiplash— fear surging from every portion of your body to feeling a sense of ease with his presence around.

your face warms up. subconsciously picking at the skin that surrounds your nail beds. “just trying to make my way home, i had picked up a late shift from—”

“the bakery in town square, correct?”

taking a step, his taller frame leaned a quarter into your personal space suddenly being consumed by his aroma. sweetness mixed with a hint of sandalwood and lavender.

his fingers weakly pranced around a single strand of your hair that had been loose, meticulously swirling it about in a specific way that only pleased him.

only then were you able to come about his long raven locks that were styled in a charming half-do that seemingly blended in with the sinful sombre of the midnight sky.

your pulse amplified, picking up like the speed of lightning. your hands soon began accumulating sweat just by a single question.

despite town square serving the population of two countries bound together, not once have you had the pleasure of encountering this man.

he was far too bewitching to grace the status of a commoner. no, he must be a figure of royalty or at least had rich wealth flowing through his blood, but he showcases no obvious signs of luxury.

just who was this man exactly?

he watches you regain control over your psyche, backing away which lets the strand of hair he possessed on his finger seemingly bounce free.

“enlighten me. how do you possess knowledge of the location of my employment? my eyes have never seen someone of the likes of you before.”

he senses utter hostility from you. the entire cobbled street reeks of your fear. he can practically taste your appetizing disdain on the tip of his tongue.

his bottom lip gets trapped between his teeth to conceal the withering moan that elicited from his core; you’re unsettled by him which only fuels his erogenous.

he playfully surrenders his hands in the air as if you had just caught him in an obtuse act, “what, pray tell, are you insinuating?”

you scoff, “do you take me for a mockery?” your voice doesn’t waver, eyebrows cinched together with lips into a firm line.

he simply tuts, “only a well put together woman like yourself could gain employment at such a high end bakery that stands in town square. i based such an assumption off my judgement . . . forgive me, m’lady.”

your eyes cautiously scan his face to detect any signs of playfulness that went against his explanation. when none was present, it was your cue to ease up on your suspicions.

with a sharp intake of air, your tense shoulders unwind themselves from your ears as you straighten out your dress trying to knead at any wrinkles.

the bakery in town has built a famous name for itself, being known as one of the most ancient buildings standing tall, as well as offering fresh pastries throughout many wars and battles.

different hierarchies from all across the globe have made it their mission to invest in a trade deal of importing the bakery’s goods in exchange for many benefits.

“then again, you find yourself situated on this street conversing with an utter stranger during after hours. so pray tell, who exactly is the jester here?” he dryly asks.

the warm energy circulating between the two of you came to a sudden halt as the tension quickly grew cold.

his voice is fervent. a barbaric ignorance flows naturally in his tone as if he was challenging you, which is much different than how he addressed your inquiry.

truthfully suguru was growing impatient by the minute. he has worked all of the charms in the book but you still haven’t given him an opening for what he wanted the most. your body, soul and most importantly; your blood.

he salivated at the sight of the minuscule veins on your neck becoming more prominent when your voice raises an obtuse or two.

the excruciating torment of his body thumping with thirst made his head throb. his tongue swirled hungrily around his sharp left fang in anticipation. 

if you had blinked, you would’ve missed how he traveled at the speed of light. a gust of wind swept through the streets as a strong swooshing of air caused the ends of your dress to get caught up in the wake. suddenly, you were face to face again with the mystery man, his nose ever so gently grazing yours, feeling his cold breath onto your lips.

his eyes carefully scans your features, taking notice of the crease between your eyebrows. “you aren’t aware of my name yet you give me your time of day? or rather night that is? i feel honoured.” he purrs.

your heart collapses to your feet. what in god’s name were you doing?

allowing yourself to get seduced by a nameless maniac on the street at the devil’s hour. letting your head get filled to the brim with such deception and trickery. your bread must’ve gone stale and you hadn’t noticed until now how terribly your feet ached from standing for so long.

your brain screamed at you to pick up your feet and dash out of a sickly situation you’ve unfortunately found yourself in. but to no avail your soles stood firmly in place, you pitied yourself for still being under his aphrodisiac.

your eyes sting as tears begin to well up into the base of your waterline. he shushes you by lightly tapping his index fingers against your bottom lip then leans into the shell of your ear, “you were the most naive out of others yet the most challenging one, what is your secret, m’lady?”

the only thing you could muster up in the moment was a faint, “p-please don’t hurt me…”

to that, suguru’s current expression gets replaced by a look of genuine remorse. he smiles fondly, his eyes forming into crescent moons. “you mustn’t worry, i have different plans for you. now be a darling and tilt your head for me.”

his eyes glowed a crimson hue that casted a reflection in your own eyes. his divine string of words compelled you to follow his demand, having no conscious influence over your own actions.

he could see your arteries viciously pumping oxygen. unstable hollow breaths depart from your plump lips.

what a delightful sight you are.

finally, his fangs penetrate your fragile skin causing goosebumps to arise upon impact as angry scarlett red seeps out of the two puncture holes he’d created.

you gasp, your head is frantically bubbling with heat as your knees buckle, static shoots through your joints feeling vibrations all over your body.

he gently cradles the back of your head with one hand using his grip to better his angle on his landscape. drowsiness consumes you whole. feeling yourself slowly slipping into a labyrinth that only the man in front of you has the key to.

your whimpers and soft pants fill the air. your stomach soon coils with a pleasant sensation of pleasure, you’ve truly gone mad as you bite your lip to cover up the choked up moans from the pleasurable aches of pain.

your eyes roll back to the sky, mentally counting the stars until your body decides to shut down what leftover functions it had left.

your eyes softly flutter open, wincing almost immediately from the dim overhead lap that shines directly in your face.

you’re currently lying on top of the broody velvet red loveseat that resided in your manor’s foyer. how you got home is beyond your comprehension.

suddenly the horrific memories of this particular night floods in your head like a tsunami.

that man… his fangs…the blood.

your hand quickly flies towards the area of the wound that resided on your neck, which to your surprise, is covered by a heavily padded gauze that will soon need to be changed once you get up.

who or what brought you home and tended to your wound? was it that man or maybe he had left you on the streets, barely alive when another lost soul roaming at the witching hour took you home.

you spot a glass of water on the floor that had a note taped onto it next to your bagged pastries. you cautiously pick up the glass to hydrate your overly dry throat then carefully peel the paper off the glass to read the note.

the contents of the note reads:

i have seeked high and low for the purest form of life, to find a companion worthy enough to indulge me in this wretched world of misery but yet, you were found from right under my nose.

your purity sings to me like a songbird o’holiest of thee. a crystallized soul patiently waiting for a body to mold.

your blood is as rare as black dahlia, hidden deep within the nooks of clouded nostalgia. your pastel beauty is the cure to my everlasting torment in hell.

i will return for you, my love.

always and forever yours, suguru.

tags: @cawwn @osaemu @yunymphs @megumimania @dollria @maeby-cursed @get0

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[seraphdreams]

just thinking about prof!geto . . the mellow and accommodating type, the kind and considerate type. he’s attentive, aware of how unfavorably you’re struggling in his class, fighting with yourself to keep focused yet the bulge of his pants fails you every time. you can’t help but think about how big he truly is . . if it’s big enough to struggle to fit in your mouth, inside the taut grasp of your warm, wet cunt, maybe in other areas that you, as his student, have no business thinking of . . would he treat you gently, make love to you deep and slow as if he’s for you and you only? would he fuck you with such a firmness that comes with the vexed knowledge that his student is so incredulously needy for him? maybe he’d get professor gojo from the lecture room down the hall to join in, they seem to be good friends. or maybe-

“y/n? y/n, sweetheart?” the soft, melodic croon of geto’s voice pulls you from your musing. “could you answer the question on the board for me?”

unfortunately for you, not a single word he’d said up until the previous moments had resonated within you.

you’ll have to stay after class for a private re-explanation of the lesson — good luck.

[movedtolilmouzee]

ℑ𝔱'𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔞𝔫 𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔲𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫...

𝘎𝘦𝘵𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘣𝘪𝘨 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵, 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘛𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵.

(Zee's note- I'm sorry for this being so short, I'm recovering from a cold I've had for two weeks. I just wanted to get something out, hope you can enjoy it. <3 :)).

Getou was the most perfect and sweetest boyfriend you ever could of asked for. Nothing was ever too much for him and he treated you like a gift from the gods, which in his eyes, you were.

Getou couldn't keep his hands of you, he always wanted to touch you in some sort of way, either it being his hands down your pants or him holding hands with you. At first getou settled with holding your hand, cuddling, and just being able to hold your body close to his, as you both got more comfortable in the relationship his hands touched every part of your body.

Getou in public is an absolute menace to you. Doesn't matter where you are, who you're talking to or around, getou will find some way to make his bulge known to you. He'll come up behind you, placing a kiss on the top of your head, hands wrapping around your chest to pull you close to him, getou knows it looks like he's just wanting to be close to you from anyone else's point of view, but you both know it's a way for him to press his bulge up against your ass.

Cuddling with getou can turn wrong so quick. It can go from happily watching a movie you both picked out to you crying about getou giving you the sixth cream pie, the outline of his cock visible in your stomach when he does take a break. Cock warming getou is the worst, getou will purposely make little movements, little bounces just to tease you, smirking while he ask you what's wrong, to make things worse getou will make you beg for him to fuck you, or he'll act as if he can't hear what your saying until you get frustrated with him.

[nerdyweebfreak]

𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴

— Geto Suguru ( jjk 0 ) —♡

𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘦𝘹

tw: dubcon, afab!reader, coercion, threats

starry banner by cafekitsune

— down.

— beg. you wanted to be mine, didn't you?

— oh i swear to god if you stop. — i'm gonna- f-fuck.. kill you-..

— face down. god, yeah. good toy.

— awh i know. i know it hurts.

— focus. eyes up here.

— lookin' so pretty f' me... hah.. yeah. j-just like that.

— stop pretending you hate it.

— it's mine. t-this cunt is mine. hah. mine mine mine mine

— you're fucking soaked. did i spark your interest, dove?

— oh no, sweet thing. you're not going anywhere.

— s-so why are your little friends not coming to rescue you, right now? huh? hah... you're stuck with me now? mmhyeah?

— you're filthy for wanting this. look at yourself..

[th3secr3th1story]

how gojo and geto act when they have a crush on you

gojo

always trying to be around you

you are literally never alone. whether it's on the train or in between classes, he's always there (i'm sorry).

"why are you always following me around, satoru? do you like me or something?" you tease as the two of you stroll through the hallway after the final bell for the day rang.

"it's my job to protect you, y/n!" he replied, deflecting your question. worst liar ever!

flirts a lot

you always catch him glancing at your lips multiple times during a conversation and lightly brushing his hand against yours when passing you something. he always has an arm around your shoulder when you're walking somewhere together.

annoying

i feel like gojo with a crush is cute but also insufferable? he's always kicking you under the table at restaurants or libraries (literally anytime he's sitting across from you) and he won't stop pinching your cheeks teasingly. but of course you get back at him all the time (because you're better than him).

geto

the best listener

whenever you two are walking together after school he asks you how your day went, quietly listening. he loves hearing your voice especially after a long day, it always soothes him.

"-so i told her again that she needs to leave him immediately because he obviously doesn't care if he hurts her. but honestly i don't know if she's going to listen because she likes him too much and--wait, are you still listening?"

"of course. i think you should try to convince her that he's using her one more time. you have the receipts to prove it, and if she still doesn't want to listen there's really nothing else you can do. don't push yourself too hard for this, if she doesn't want to accept the information then that's that; you have other things to worry about."

the biggest gentleman

he opens every door, pulls out every chair, and guides you through every crowd with a hand on your back. he only wants you to be comfortable and would quite literally do anything for you. he'd never admit it, but he always has a spare water and a few snacks on him in case you ever need anything.

extremely observant

he can tell if you had barely slept the night before and offers you his shoulder to sleep on while heading back to school after a mission. he somehow always notices the smallest scratches or bruises on you, immediately tending to them and demanding asking that you tell him what happened.

[strwbwrrybunny]

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥! 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠ミ★

the music was deafening, bass seeming to turn your insides into mush as you stood in the bustling crowd.the distinct smell of weed filled your nostrils intoxicatingly , your eyes glazed across the room to find the source.then your eyes found him.

he wore a fitted black shirt that emphasized every muscle,every vein.the material practically stretched with at how big his muscles were.your eyes flickered down to his tattoos,each delicately drawn and shaded as the last on his pale skin.his jawline was sharp and clenched,red solo cup wrapped between his huge hands making it look like a toy.and as if he could feel your eyes admiring him he looked directly at you across the room,dark eyebrows furrowed over dark eyes.

a half lit cigar lay tantalizing between his plump pink lips,he wasn’t supposed to be smoking in the the party’s host house but he didn’t care.his dark hair was pulled up into a messy half up half down and you longed to run your fingers through the raven mess.you suddenly felt shy under his gaze, suddenly feeling exposed with your black v necked leather shirt and skirt so short your ass would be out of if you bent over.

involuntarily your legs began walking towards him, pushing through the crowd to get to the mysterious sexy stranger.a smirk tugged across his lips as you finally made your way in front of him in all of your glory.glistening brown skin,plump two-toned lips lined with a brown pencil,upturned seductive eyes adorned with big fluffy lashes a smile cascading across your face showing off your pearly white straight teeth.

“hi i’m y/n.”

your voice was sultry and sweet like a siren.his dark eyes searched yours for a moment before he returned the smile.

“getou.”

his voice was deep and guttural,matching him perfectly.now that you were close you could smell him a mixture of musk and spice. everything about this man was perfect.you wanted him.from the moment he looked at you he could tell you were a freak,despite that innocent look you had he knew.getou knew you desired to bent over like a slut,choked until your face turned purple and your lungs screamed for the sweet release of air. he couldn’t explain the sudden attraction to you and yet it made him crave for you even more.

“f-fuck getou.” you whimpered out as he rocked his hips into you,hands wrapped in your hair as he pulled your head back whilst kissing and licking your neck.he felt so good inside of you that you wanted to scream but all you could do was grip the bathroom counter and take his relentless thrust.

“i knew you wanted me to fuck you,you slut.” he whispered in your ear,a shiver riveting through your body as the sound of your wetness filled the bathroom with each thrust.getou was so fucking deep inside you that it hurt but in that pain was a hint of pleasure.you whined as his tip brushed against your g-spot,eyes screwing shut as he drilled the spot perfectly and effortlessly.

“a-ah you’re fucking my pussy s-so good.” you cried out,hands finding his messy hair and pulling.he groaned into your neck,dick twitching as you pulsated around him.your pussy was tight and wet,and he fit like a puzzle piece .you could hear the muffled music from the party along with angry beats on the door as someone shouted to come out from the other side.

“cum on daddy’s dick,it’s okay let me fuck you through your orgasm.”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍓

thinking about turning this into a longer oneshot or a full story?

＠ ᴄɪɴɴɴ4ᴍᴏɴ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ.ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ sᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴏʀ ᴍᴏᴅɪꜰʏ. ᴍᴡᴀʜ, ʙʏᴇ♡︎

[szkunas]

KNOCK KNOCK, GUESS WHO! ౨ৎㅤsuguru geto.

synopsis / premise ♱ㅤwhen things in your life go well for a long time, there will undeniably be a problem knocking on your door. this time, the issue is your ex-boyfriend, wanted by the jujutsu society — who is very angry with you, even after he stole your money. || PART ONE (previous)

featuring ♱ㅤsuguru geto (jjk0 / 2017 version) x FEM reader.

warnings ♱ㅤ NSFW ♡︎ ㅤporn with very little plot ! toxic behavior ! suguru (GENOCIDAL man) ! unprotected sex (wrap it up) + unrealistic portraits of sex ! creampie ! reader and gojo are not in a relationship, but mutually interested in each other ! coercion / dub-con (both consent but just to be safe) ! genocide / death mentions (geto) ! stalking and breaking in ! bondage + choking ! spanking ! edging ! obsessed suguru agenda ! delusional suguru (you will see) ! seduction !

honorary mentions (inspirations, please read) ♱ㅤthis ask, by anon! all credits to them, i was not planning a part two, haha. whoever you are, i hope you enjoy it.

author’s note ♱ㅤso, today i was sitting down and thinking “im going to finish that yuta draft and probably start the sukuna draft for the event, since he’s winning the poll”. guess which of these two things I did? exactly. none. so, here is more suguru geto for you. i apologize in advance — i am not good at writing seduction. this is a bit rushed lol. repost because i can't see my post in tags

THERE IS NOTHING SCARIER than discovering that the person you love most is hiding a dark secret. it could be a lover, a second family, a dark past or a real, rotting present. that’s the feeling you get: everything is rotten. the walls around you and the space are shaped into a molten mist that rots as time passes, as you read the letter that someone slipped under your door.

the highly wanted criminal, suguru geto, was seen in your apartment two weeks ago, as shown in the photos below. we ask for your full and complete cooperation in the investigation, and soon some sorcerers will need to interrogate you. expect their visit at any time and answer the door when the time comes.ㅤ— the higher-ups from jujutsu society.

oh, hell. no. this cannot be happening.

as the procedure says, you burn the letter and get rid of the ashes.

although your situation is absolutely desperate, the secrecy of jujutsu comes before your disastrous love life. you turn to look for your cell phone, and the delay hurts your bones.

it seems like the object disappears when you need it most. when you find the damn phone, you don’t even hesitate. as you type the number that, at this point, your head knows by heart, your hands shake. this cannot be true. they are lying, they are trying to deceive me and defame suguru. but why? why would society need to do this?

of course, mentally, you suppress yourself. and a rational part of your brain — the part that isn’t driven by the love you feel for a man who’s been with you a long time — slowly realizes that this is the truth.

that’s why the disappearances in the middle of the night, the slight disregard for non-sorcerers touching you or him. the preference for privacy and not allowing you to post photos of the two of you together. he doesn’t have social media, he said. it feels very public. what a lie, he was actually a wanted criminal and cult leader.

no one answers the call, and you press the button once again. and again. and again. by the sixth time, you’re not sure if your hands are shaking with fear, disgust, or hate.

your money. your savings, built up after you left the witch life behind. a small guarantee of your future, a future you planned to have with suguru. a future stolen and lost, by the same man who once stole her heart. beautiful black hair and purple eyes really make a girl forget to pay attention to the red flags.

you leave voicemail after voicemail, until the box is full. then, messages. text after text while your fingertips digit furiously. it didn’t take long for you to realize that a response from him would be even worse, so your last messages were simple, direct. do not talk to me anymore. don’t ever appear in front of me again. and don’t you dare involve me in your affairs, you bastard.

pressing the send button through tears was one of the hardest things you’ve ever done in your life. and so, blocking the number seemed like the most sensible solution. it’s not like he would respond, even if you gave the number to the investigators — your exact intention.

so everything went as it should. 39 missed calls, 104 unanswered messages that changed her perspective of him forever, along with a letter that turned to ash, like a caterpillar turning into a butterfly. your life took a new direction, an unpredictable metamorphosis that made you move to another address after the entire legal process on your part was concluded. you didn’t know, and you had no involvement, as hard as it was to believe. and then the sorcerers left you alone, and this was your second new start to normal life.

lonely and with a betrayed heart, in a new apartment far from your ex. unloading the last box does not bring the relief of releasing a chain, but the pain. the pain of losing something. as if the chain had tied itself to one of your ribs and ripped it away, taking a part of you.

but the tears dry. time passes. the pain diminishes, and the space that takes it in the heart is hatred. you become your priority again, and in time, you rise again only to fall again. one last effort, a call to a certain sorcerer you once knew, satoru gojo. this was his noah’s ark, his last hope before resorting to more desperate methods.

he answered. and since then, a lot has changed.

it’s been almost ten months since suguru stole your money and trampled on your love and dignity. almost ten months in which you had your heart broken, and you slowly put the pieces back together. now, your latest relationship — it’s not really a relationship.

six weeks ago, you and satoru had sex in your apartment for the first time. since then, he has been very helpful in all aspects of your life and visits you regularly. he takes you on dates and even carried you when his feet got sore from walking. it sounds crazy, feeling so comfortable with someone after just six weeks, but that’s what happens.

gojo is more than an arrogant boy who uses humor in every situation he sees, he has a heart, and a very generous one at that. despite his insistence, the credit card that was entrusted to you is rarely used (and you managed to convince him to change the password, too). his intention was to ask for help, not to become a parasite that will take as much from him as he can. not when he’s a much better person than you expected. a kind of clumsy white knight, in a cute and a bit of a loser way at the same time.

so, of course, the dates have become routine now. cinemas, walks in the park, roller skating, going for ice cream. these experiences stand out in your memories, as sweet as scenes from clichéd romance films. kisses in the rain, desperate hands pushing you into the apartment — maybe this time, you might be able to tease him a little, make him lose it and have you right there, in a dark corner? the idea is exciting, dangerous, and so stupid it makes your heart flutter.

he still owes you a new bed, though. you keep fucking on your couch because you two broke your single bed the last time you did it.

checking yourself in the mirror before a date is, naturally, what everyone does. the red dress that adorns her body is a little short, the kind of thing you see on a seductive movie character. but satoru asked for this tiny — as tiny as the dress, in his words — favor and promised anything you wanted later if you wore that and hung on his arm all night. even when he’s being a pervert, he’s just a guy who’s whipped for you.

the idea makes you take a step back. satoru can’t be in love with you. yeah, okay. he does cute things often. he takes you on dates almost every week. he’s always trying to make you laugh and has already learned most of your quirks, likes and dislikes. he remembers you throughout the day, at random intervals, and buys you things so casually that you had to beg him to stop and not max out his card bill — he just laughed and said it was all cheap anyway. heirs…

but he can’t be in love. it’s all new, recent. perfect, but maybe it’s just hidden by the love fog at the beginning of a relationship. it has already blinded you to bad signals once, and you internally wonder if you are using gojo.

of course, part of you has already thought about it. having sex with your ex’s best friend and solve your financial problems. two birds, one stone. but satoru is everything suguru is not — true. intense and real, without a mask of sweet truth that covered a rotten truth.

honestly, you don’t want to think about it too much right now. this is a conversation that should be between you and satoru, not between you and your intrusive, insecure thoughts. he deserves to know the truth and he deserves to know that you’re just as interested as he is — not on the money, but on him.

a text message makes you smile right after spraying a sweet perfume on your neck. the screen lights up with that contact that has now become your favorite.

toru <3; ㅤ already in the dress? photos or else ill die (seriously)

a small laugh escapes your throat, and you immediately prepare to take a photo. stepping back a little and posing in front of the mirror, you could swear you heard something near your apartment door while simultaneously hearing the soft click of your cell phone.

one pose to show the front, and one for the back, with a soft, evil smile. satoru isn’t your boyfriend, but with his attitude, he could very well be. he looks at you as if you were the only woman in the world, and as if he wanted you forever. it’s beautiful. it’s such a beautiful emotion to see in those blue eyes that you can’t wait for the next time you look.

after texting back, asking what time the movie starts, your eyebrows come together in a frown. omnisity takes over the environment quickly, and you swear your heart stops beating.

this energy— it cannot be.

“hi princess. missed me?”

the whisper in your ear is so sudden that you immediately turn your face to look. a hand grabs your chin and forces your head to turn back to the mirror, and you gasp, immediately struggling.

suguru geto, on the flesh, the greatest traitor to have walked the earth since judas. traitor to the jujutsu society, criminal and mass murderer, and of course — your ex-boyfriend. right behind you, and forcing you to stare at the mirror as his free hand snatches your phone away.

you hit him with your elbow, but he barely moves. humming, as if he is amused. as if you are some game. geto’s hips press forward against yours, and he efficiently traps you between the sink and him.

this cannot be happening.

what suguru doesn’t find amusing, though, is your text messages with satoru. long or short, little flirtations or obvious nudes, these messages are simply something that makes him turn his nose up in disgust. how dare him. how dare satoru take the one thing suguru truly loved that way?

“get off me.” you murmur, your eyes widening. like any sorcerer, you know the basics of defending yourself, but panic runs through your veins like poison. your muscles feel like solid stone, and you can’t stop your breath from hitching when his hand stops cupping your cheek to grab you by the throat.

he’s a criminal who definitely must have had his share of fights. you are a sorceress who has not been in the field for almost ten years. in a real fight? he could drown you in that sink and satoru would only find out hours later.

satoru. the thought makes you immediately ramble.

“don’t you dare lay a hand on me. satoru will—” he squeezes your neck softly, a silent message for you to keep your mouth shut. suguru sighs, annoyed he needs to explain it to you, word by word. he really, really likes you, but he’s not in the mood after all these games.

this small action — squeezing your neck gently — makes you remember old times. old times, not good days. because, although they were good, the memory was effectively corrupted when he left you, almost a year ago.

“satoru will not do a thing. he doesn’t know i’m here, and he won’t know.” a break. “yet.”

your eyebrows shoot up, before your face contorts into confusion. what does he mean, yet? if anyone knows he’s here, he will be executed. why would he risk it, just to see you? is he here to kill you?

the thought brings visible panics into your eyes — the wonderful, pretty eyes you have. the window to your soul. your soul and body, which suguru would like to possess again.

again, what a ridiculous term. he never stopped owning it, in the first place.

maybe if you buy time, satoru will come see what’s taking so long. he will help. you’ll be safe.

but the date is only thirty minutes, and for satoru to come in person, you would have to wait another forty. one hour and ten minutes with your genocidal ex-boyfriend. wow. this must be some kind of twisted lottery of fate, where winning makes you unlucky.

you force your voice to remain calm, composed. he does not deserve the satisfaction of your fear.

“why are you here?”

“oh, look at her.” he mocks, as if you’re not even just there, listening. “asking why i’m here as if she has no idea.”

“i don’t.” you grit your teeth. “this is why people ask, imbecile. they want answers— ugh.” he squeezes your neck again, making you grow quiet until he relaxes.

“darling.” suguru smiles softly, but some veins are popping up on his hand. he is absolutely pissed, using that sweet voice to smooth you. “you know why i’m here. don’t play dumb. you— let satoru touch you.”

his tone is still soft, affectionate as the boyfriend you once called yours. but beneath the sweetness, there is an anger, a possession. like an animal whose territory has been pierced.

“did you think I wouldn’t find out?” he leans in, his hot breath making shivers run down your spine violently. “you underestimate me, my love. i’m a bit offended. coming from you, i expected so much more.”

his hand snakes all over your body, and close as he is, you’re sure he can hear your erratic heartbeat. thump-thump. thump-thump. thump-thump.

like the engine of a machine, accelerated to its limits. if your organs are your gears, you believe you are malfunctioning right now. a poorly functioning machine due to information overload.

it’s a lot to handle. his hands are warm as they gently pull your dress up, groaning. “i barely had to move it away. what, you enjoy dressing like a slut for satoru?”

it seems like your voice only works normally, as it should, when you feel your panties being pulled down, gasping. “suguru, no! you can’t!”

“oh, i can’t? why? c’mon, darling, just the tip.” he throws your phone away — the sound the device makes when it breaks against the wall is blood-curdling. he wraps both his arms around your waist, pressing his hips to yours. “pretty please?”

you grit your teeth. why the hell is this attractive? perhaps it’s because you barely heard geto beg before. but, no. you can’t. satoru, your satoru, he’s waiting for you — instead, you have your freak ex humping slowly against you. no way, is he wearing buddhist attire? like a monk or something. but these thoughts don’t matter. his words take you out of your head.

“i saw everything that day, you know. and a little before, and after that. getting all cozy with satoru, because i’m not here? you offend me, sweetheart. i’m a bit hurt.”

“oh, i’m not hearing this.” you curl your hands into fists, slamming them on his arms. “not after you lied about who you are, stole my damn money, and left! fuck you, geto! fuck. you.”

he smirks against your ear, grabbing your wrists and pulling your arms behind your back. you groaned, and he quickly decided to hit two birds with one stone.

tugging at the clothing strip that holds his robes together, he rips it off and uses it to tie your hands together as you squirm. he gives it a little tug, confirming it’s not too tight, and throws his clothings to the other side of the room.

“i know i haven’t been here.” he pauses, and you can watch him through the mirror as he forces you a bit down. “and i’m sorry. i wanted to tell you, i did. but i couldn’t. i know what you would think, and— i couldn’t lose you.”

it’s like a sincere admission, but you’re not foolish enough to feel sorry. not for him, definitely. throwing salt at the wound is your strategy right now.

“you lost me anyway. y’know, satoru really has a way with backshots that—” your words are cut off by a gasp, when he rips your panties off you and holds you down by the back of your neck. your back does a pretty arch for him like that, but suguru is not nearly amused enough.

“don’t be a brat. i made mistakes, but you, too. whoring yourself for my best friend? are you kidding me, love?”

“i’m not your love, don’t call me that.” he grabs you by the hair, tugging your head back up to look at his eyes through his reflection.

a pause, and suguru decided against what he was going to originally say, softening his grip on you.

“i missed you. i did. can’t i show it to you? just a little, baby, please?” he presses his hips into yours a bit more gently, and you can feel it.

his rock-hard erection, rubbing softly against your warm pussy. it makes you shiver and hum against your will. a part of you misses it. nothing wrong with satoru — he’s a great learner for an inexperienced guy — but geto knows just how to blow your back and be soft at the same time. an art satoru hasn’t mastered yet.

the idea of doing this to that white haired man who is so good to you — it brings tears to your face. how dare you want to say yes? but also, how could you say no when suguru’s head is rubbing deliciously against your entrance?

you close your eyes in defeat, not able to look at yourself.

“be quick. and don’t ever ask me anything again. you get this— and you disappear from my sight. forever.”

a deal with the devil. sacrifice something and gain something. your body for peace.

he chuckles, throwing his head back with a smirk. “oh, you and i both know that’s not happening, sweetheart. i’ll be here, forever.” he slips his hands down your waist, grabbing it gently and pushing his cock in.

the feeling is— exquisite. geto could try all he wanted, search in all the world, but he never could find someone like you. your body is almost poisonous — intoxicating is the right word. he just bottomed out and he’s already mixing his thoughts. that’s the effect you have on him.

suguru’s hips start moving at a restless pace, not giving you time to breathe or a warning. he can’t waste time with words, not now. not after being pulled away from you, his beloved, for ten torturous months. just when he was planning to come back and convince you to join his cult — or just grab you and lock you up, whatever —, he found you riding his best friend. sinking down satoru’s cock and making him cream all inside you.

the idea makes him huff, thrusting harder.

and you, under him? with your wrists tied up? well, you’re a mess. you’ll have to try bondage with satoru later, it’ll surely make his cock explode. your eyes widen, and you babble something — what’s wrong with your head? why are you thinking about satoru, then, suguru, then satoru again?

oh, lord above, maybe both at the same time? it’s a fantasy that makes you blush more than what you’re doing right now.

suguru guides your head up again, holding your neck gently.

“what are you thinking about, love? you keep—” he grunts. “clenching down on me.”

“nothing,” you stammer out. okay, there is something seriously wrong with you for enjoying this so much. a moan escapes you before you can stop it. “nngh— satoru!”

his eyes widen at the same time as yours. if your hands weren’t tied up, you would have brought one up to your mouth. the squeezing on your neck is firm, enough to not cut air circulation, but present. surely. the whisper of your name echoes through the bathroom.

“what did you just say?”

he looms over you, blushed cheeks and vulnerable expressions changing all the time, staring at your dumb little face in the mirror. suguru has a soft frown on his face, his eyes wide in horror, and his lips are slightly parted. but there’s a dark shadow oozing off him, a rage that cannot be contained.

he’s hurt. he’s mad.

you try to justify it quickly, to do damage control. “suguru! i said— i said suguru!”

but it’s a little too late for that, and lies only make it worse. he pins you down harder, his hips moving back at a ruthless pace this time. harder, faster — no mercy or trace of the sweet man who used to make love with you as if you were made of glass.

now, he fucks you as if he hates you, he hates your guts.

your moans and whines are muffled by the obscene sounds escaping where your hips meet. plap plap plap, mixed with a softly, slightly wet whisper of some sort. suguru lets go of your waist and brings his hand up.

you gasp when it hits the back of your thigh in a loud smack!

he forces you to look up, breathless as he murmurs.

“start counting.” he groans, harshly. and he smacks you again, right on the ass. he’s hitting so hard that you believe his intention is leaving a red mark — a present for satoru to look at later. and you’re right. his friend knows no boundaries and keeps taking what is his. what choice does he has, unless to mark you up?

smack.

you shiver, trying to squirm away and kick before he pins you down again.

“behave, brat. now start counting.”

smack.

“one—” you moan when his heat hits your sweet spot, huffing. smack. “two.”

“good girl.” smack. smack. smack. “how many is that, princess, mm? ohh, that’s the good pussy i missed so much. so— tight.”

“ngh! three! four! f—five?”

“is that a question, or are you answering me, my love?”

he chuckles meanly, thrusting into you again. you both grunt — near the edge already.

“suguru.” you throw your head back, whimpering. “i’m— i’m gonna—”

“ohh, you’re going to cum? that fast, honey? satoru hasn’t been good enough to you, i see.” he thrusts harder, laughing meanly at the way your eyes widen and tear up. “aww, he can’t treat you like you want. he fucks you like a good girl, i bet. but you want to be fucked like a slut.”

he leans down, peppering your neck with kisses and hearing your deep breaths. “it’s okay. i’m close, too. you have this effect on me, my love.” he grunts again, grabbing your hips. “throw that ass back on me, baby, yeah? yeah, juuuust like that.”

he grabs your chin, forcing you to look up as he presses his lips to yours in a upside down kiss. it would be romantic if it weren’t so possessive, visceral, crude. carnal. desperate.

when your lips part, he grunts and sighs softly, while you’re moaning loudly. nearly at the same time, your orgasms hit you both with everything.

suguru’s thrusts become messy, sloppy, and his skin feels a bit sticky against yours as he fucks himself using your pussy, pushing in ropes of cum to paint your insides.

you let your head fall forward when it’s your turn, squirming and whimpering softly. his forehead would have hit the sink if he weren’t holding you up. some more seconds, to dry out both of your highs. slowly, gently, he pulls out of you, watching the fat drops oozing out of your used hole.

suguru smirks as he undoes your restraints, kissing the back of your neck tenderly and adjusting your dress.

“don’t forget who has you first, mkay? i left a little gift for you and satoru here.” he sighs, sounding a bit sad. “i’ll have to go again, i’m sorry. but i’ll be back soon. don’t miss me too much. just leave your window unlocked, and i’ll be here again.” he grabs your face to turn it again, brushing his lips against yours. “unlocking them is a chore.”

geto leans back, and you shiver, confused. the sound of clothes being adjusted and thrown back into a body makes you turn your head moments after you heard it, still a bit too slow.

and he is gone. as you fix yourself up on your feet, you shiver as the realization hits you hard as a stone. no, no. satoru. no.

you stumble to the corner of the bathroom, picking up your phone. the screen is broken, but a call icon appears. you accept immediately, nearly sobbing.

“hey, senpai,” the nickname is soft coming from his lips. a small joke, playing with an honorific that he does not use with figures he should use. “you’re— a bit late. did something came up, or?”

“satoru.” you sob, and even through the screen, you can feel him tense up. his voice becomes more serious.

“what happened? are you okay? where are you? i’m on my way.” the scraping of a chair can be heard in the background of the call.

“i’m— my apartment. i have something to tell you. we need to talk, seriously, we—”

you shiver, and for some reason, you can picture your ex perfectly — walking proudly, with his nose up, the wind making his black hair flow behind him and cruel, purple eyes accompanied by a soft smirk.

“i made a mistake.”

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, I APOLOGIZE FOR ANY MISTAKES.ㅤthank you for reading! <3

[mononijikayu]

come back to me — geto suguru.

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.” You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?” He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: dead dove: do not eat, dark fic, nsfw (not safe for work), r -18, angst, hurt/no comfort, toxic romance, character death, murder, guilt, remorse, horror, sorrow, tragedy, lovers, canon related violence, choking, violence, curse creature, ghostly figure, anguish, emotional instability, emotional, haunting, betrayal, unfinished business, depiction of character death, depiction of murder, depiction of emotional instability, depiction of choking, depiction of anguish, depiction of guilt, depiction of sorrow, depiction of ghostly figure, mention of mass murder, mention of death, curse user defector! geto suguru, victim girlfriend! reader;

WORDS: 7k words.

NOTE: this is probably the first time i'm writing something that is a dead dove, because i was curious how i would do when writing something as heavy and as horrific as something like this. i wanted to be able to write it properly, because not only is it kinktober, it is also spookytober. so, i had this in mind. i wanted to participate at least once. so, i hope that even though this might not be your cup of tea, it be something of interest to you. but if you can't read it right now, that's okay too. i'll publish more works soon enough!!! i love you all <3

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HE CAN SEE YOU EVERYWHERE. And it was his own fault. A fault, of course, he does not regret. A fault he incurs with wanting, and greed. You haunt Geto Suguru and there was nothing else but it to last forever. You haunt his existence as though you own it. Everything about was drifting through his every thought like a shadow he can't shake.

He had known this would happen. He had anticipated it ever since that day. The day he crossed the line from the man he once was into something darker, something twisted by hatred, madness and grief.

He had expected your presence to follow him. He had expected that you would never leave him alone. Geto Suguru had always wanted it. He had always wanted you. For you were everything. You were the beginning and end.

You were too important, too loved by him. You cannot leave him. You cannot go astray from him. Because he had made it so. He had made it so and it shall be like that. After all, he was the one that took your life. There was no other way about it. And he remembers. He remembers it distinctly. He remembers it all too well.

It was after the massacre, after he had ended up doing what he had done. Still in his blooded clothes, weary and exhausted, he did not hesitate in all he had done. Why should he? Why should he feel regret now when his heart, his soul, his everything, was corrupted by the greed and indifference of others?

That village had been reduced to nothing but ash and ruin, its people were swiftly slaughtered by his own hand. And all that remained was ash and bone, the dark charred bitterness burning amid the blue flames.

He of course did not stop there. He couldn't. It was as though he was in autopilot. As though no one was home. And yet, he remembers. He feels the contradiction of it all. But he does not need to admit to fault. The result was obvious. It was secured by fate. The fate he had chosen.

He took Mimiko and Nanako and brought them somewhere safe. And all that he could think of his house. It would be empty. His parents wouldn't be home. And he take what he needed and leave. He could leave. But he was a fool for thinking that everything would go swiftly as he planned.

Within an hour of him trying to take everything, he silences Mimiko and Nanako and tells them to keep the TV on, as loud as possible. And no matter what, do not come down. The two young girls agreed, they were smiling too. They would do anything he'd asked. For after all, he was the one who had saved them from these....these cruel creatures that had nearly taken their lives.

Geto Suguru has always had a difficult relationship with his parents. But even then, he had cared for him. He was a filial son, he knew that about himself. Yet he knew that he had gone far already with what he had done.

He cannot let his parents be an exception. Not even if they weren't at fault. Even if they didn't do anything. He can't be lenient. Geto Suguru lets his steps be firm, even if he knows he can't. He could remember his mother's greeting, seeing him. His father's little hey. It was almost like his childhood agaian.

"You staying the night, 'guru?" His mother asks him as she puts down the grocery bags. "I thought it would still be a school night."

"Let him be, dear." His father says, smiling at his wife. "We always work, he's always at school. Let's just enjoy having him around for a little more time."

His mother laughs. "You're right. We might as well enjoy our son being here."

"Oh, 'guru. Is that ketchup stains on your shirt?" His mother gasped, spotting the red stain on his white school shirt. "Take it off, 'guru! Let me clean it. Go and change, you must be tired―"

"You can do it later, dear." His father says, as he starts clearing out the groceries. "I'm sure that you can wash it later. If Suguru wants to spend some more time with us, then wash it later."

His mother pouts at his father's words. "I suppose so."

"Mom, dad." Suguru finally talks, raising his head a little. His eyes meeting that of his mother and father. He catches their attention and he stays still.

For a moment, he could see everything of him in his mother and his father. His mother's purple eyes, his father's tender lips. His mother's long black hair. His father's gentle face. He could see all of him in them. And he's going to destroy it. He's going to ruin it. He has to. There's no other way.

His mother's brows raised a bit confused. "What is it, 'guru? Do you want anything?"

"I'm sorry."

In that moment, maybe they did notice what was wrong with him. After months of suffering, after this whole year, maybe they finally noticed. But they noticed too late. They noticed too late when he already had resolve.

"Hey, son. If there's anything you want to talk to us about, you can." His father says to him, walking towards him. This was the last time Suguru would see his father's kind face. "We love you son, you know that. You can tell us anything."

"I love you too." Suguru whispers, lifting his head whole. He reveals tears pouring from his face. "I'm sorry."

Those were the last words he said to his parents. Those were the last thing they heard from him as his curses took them both one by one and destroyed what remained of who he was.

Geto Suguru sobbed for a long while, looking at the blood. Looking at what he had done. He sobbed and sobbed until nothing could come out. But what was done was done. He needed to move forward. There was only one thing left.

And yet, after all that bloodshed, he went to you. Not out of regret, not out of any moral dilemma, but he was too far gone for that. He had to close all his ties. He had to disappear. Geto Suguru cannot remain. He has to die. And what better way than to end you too.

If Geto Suguru had one thing he was truly happy in his life about, it was you. And you were his everything. You were the one constant, the one person who had always been there.

You, his childhood friend, the girl who had stood beside him through everything. And more than that, you were the love of his life. The woman he'd once dreamed of marrying, of building a future with before everything unraveled.

When Geto Suguru arrived at your house, everything was still. You were sitting alone, your parents gone, much like his had been your entire lives, leaving the house in an eerie silence. You were the last peaceful thing in his world.

And he has to take you away. You weren't meant for this dirty world. You were the purest thing in his life. You can't be here. Not when he wrecks everything whole. You can't, you can't be tarnished more than you will be.

As he stepped into the room, you looked up and your face lit up, just like it always did. You were so beautiful to him. The most beautiful star in his sky. Forever infinitely so pure. His beloved.

You smiled at him like nothing had changed, as if the boy standing before you was still the same Suguru you had known all those years. You were happy to see him, your eyes full of warmth, unburdened by the weight of the horrors he had committed just hours before.

“Suguru!” you greeted him, standing up and crossing the room to meet him. Your voice was soft, affectionate, carrying none of the tension or fear that had filled his life. “I’ve missed you.”

For a moment, in that single heartbeat, he almost let himself believe it—that he could be that man again. The boy who smiled and laughed with you. The one who loved you with every part of himself. He could feel the familiar tug in his chest, the love he had always felt for you, pulling him back from the brink. And for a second, he almost let himself forget.

But deep down, Suguru knew. The path he had chosen was irreversible. He had come too far, burned too much of himself away to ever turn back. There was no room left for love, for innocence, for the life he had once dreamed of with you. He had destroyed it all, and now everything around him had to fall too. Even you.

You didn’t see it coming. You had no idea of the darkness that had consumed him. You looked at him as if nothing had changed—as if he were still the boy who had promised to protect you, to always stand by your side. And that was the part that hurt him the most.

"Suguru, what's wrong?" you asked softly, reaching out to touch his arm. "You look... tired. Are you okay?"

He flinched at your touch, as though your kindness was too much to bear. He turned his face away, swallowing the bitterness rising in his throat. How could he even begin to explain? How could he tell you what he had done, the blood that stained his hands, the lives he had taken?

"I need to tell you something." he said, his voice low, rough with guilt. “It’s... it’s over. Everything.”

You frowned, stepping closer to him, concern etched in your features. “What do you mean?”

He met your eyes then, and you saw it—the shift, the darkness lurking behind them. His expression was distant, hollow. "I killed them. The village, my parents... I killed them all."

Your breath hitched. For a moment, you didn’t understand. You didn’t want to. “What are you talking about?” you whispered, shaking your head, disbelief coloring your voice. “That’s... that’s not possible. You wouldn’t—”

“I did.” His voice was cold, flat, devoid of emotion. “I killed them. They deserved it.”

Your knees buckled, and you stumbled back, eyes wide in shock. You couldn’t reconcile the words he was saying with the boy standing in front of you. “No... no, that’s not you, Suguru. You wouldn’t do something like that. You.... you would never.”

But as you looked into his eyes, the reality of it sank in. You could see it. Little by little, you pieced it all together. You could see the darkness that had swallowed him whole, the monster he had become. And your heart broke, shattered into pieces as you realized what he had done, what he was planning to do.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, but there was no warmth in it. “You have to understand... I can’t let you live. Not like this. Not anymore.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, but even then, even as the weight of his betrayal crushed you, you didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. This was Geto Suguru; the boy who had always been gentle with you, who had held your hand on dark nights and made you believe in a future together. Your everything.

Just as much as you were his everything. You loved him. You still do love him. How could you not? He was and always will be the love of your life. You didn’t hate him, but you were afraid. Not of death, but of what he had become.

“Suguru…….” Your voice trembled. “You don’t have to do this. Please.”

He looked away, clenching his fists, his jaw tight. “I do.”

“But I love you.” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I still love you. Even now. Isn't that enough?”

His heart ached at your words, the pain of your love cutting deeper than any blade. He had come too far, done too much. There was no going back, not for him, not for either of you. He cannot stop. If he could do it to his parents, he could do it to you.

But you—you were different. He couldn't kill you like he had killed the others. He didn’t want to see fear in your eyes, didn’t want to hear you scream or beg for mercy. You deserved better than that, better than what the world had given you, even if he no longer deserved you.

So he made a choice. A twisted act of love, the last shred of mercy he could offer.

“I’m sorry, my love.” he repeated, stepping closer, his voice soft now. "You won’t feel anything. You’ll just fall asleep, and... you’ll dream. A dream that never ends."

Your tears fell freely, but you didn’t move. You didn’t try to run. How could you? You were in disbelief. You were in absolute mania, you were in a madness. There was no way you could. You cannot do anything but be still, in shock, and wait for the end. Betrayed, hurt and gone by the one that you loved the most.

Or perhaps, maybe you had always known it would come to this; that the boy you had loved had been consumed by the darkness, and there was no saving him. Maybe it was just fate. Or maybe you were just too kind, too trusting, too good for this world. Suguru would never know.

He held you close, cradling you in his arms, and for a moment, you let yourself believe everything would be okay. That somehow, this nightmare would end, and you would wake up in the arms of the boy you loved, the one who would protect you. But deep down, you knew that wasn’t the case.

He just kept you beside him all through the night, for what felt like hours, maybe longer. Your body was so still in his arms, as though the weight of the world had finally let go of you. You were so quiet, so calm, as if you had already accepted what was coming. 

Maybe you knew, deep down, that the boy you had loved so fiercely, so fully, had become someone else. That he had become this person lost in a sea of hate and ambition, far beyond the innocent dreams you had once shared together.

Geto Suguru wondered if you had always known that it would come to this, that the path he had chosen would inevitably lead you to this moment of no return. That you had always known that he will be your beginning and end. That you would belong to him no matter what, life and in death. Because he didn't. Until now.

“I’m so sorry. I love you.” he whispered one last time, his voice cracking, as he used his curse on you—the one that could curse with a dream that would never end.

You felt yourself slipping away, your body growing heavy, your eyelids fluttering shut. But there was no fear, no pain. Just a deep, endless sleep. Suguru’s heart clenched. He knew what he was about to do. He had already gone too far—there was no turning back. 

You would never have followed him down the path he had chosen, the path of darkness and destruction. You were too pure, too gentle, to walk the same road as him. You would never raise a hand to hurt anyone, even if it meant saving yourself. That was the kind of person you were, the kind of person he could never be.

So, this dream; this was all he could give you. It was the only gift left that wasn’t tainted by his sins.

His curse; a dream that would never end. It was his final act of love, his last attempt to protect you from the reality he had created. With it, he could give you what the real world had taken away from both of you.

He could give you the life you should have had. The life he had stolen from you when he became the monster you never deserved. In this dream, you could live peacefully, forever untouched by the violence and corruption that had consumed him. In this dream, you could be happy. You could be free.

He watched as your breathing grew softer, your chest rising and falling in a steady, peaceful rhythm. And in that moment, Suguru let himself imagine what your dream was like. Maybe it was a simple life, the kind you had always wanted. 

Maybe the two of you were walking through the fields of a quiet village, hand in hand, with the sun setting on the horizon. Or maybe you were sitting beneath a tree, with your head resting on his shoulder, laughing about nothing at all.

He pictured the softness of your smile, the warmth of your touch, moments of joy that you would never experience again, not in the real world. But in this dream, it would be eternal. And most of all, it would be final. It would be the end. And there would be no path to return.

In this dream, the two of you could grow old together. You could have the life that you both had once spoken about when you were younger, before everything had gone wrong. There would be no death, no suffering. Only love. Only peace.

As your body stilled completely, Geto Suguru’s heart ached with the weight of what he had done. He had cursed you, just as he had cursed so many others, but this curse was different. This one was born out of love.

A twisted, desperate love that couldn’t save you, but could at least offer you a kind of peace. It wasn’t enough. He knew that. It was never going to be enough. But it was all he could give.

"I’m sorry, my love." he whispered, his voice breaking in the silence of the night. "I’m so sorry."

He could never undo what he had done. He couldn’t bring you back, not really. But he could give you this, a life lived in the dream of what could have been. And maybe, just maybe, that would be enough for you.

But as the hours passed, and the weight of your absence began to sink in, Suguru knew the truth; he hadn’t done this just for you. He had done it for himself. To hold on to the illusion of what he had destroyed. To keep you with him, in some way, even if it was only in the depths of a dream that would never end.

It was all he had left

You never woke up.

“I love you, I love you.” he whispered into the silence, knowing you would never hear him. "Always."

And as he laid you down, letting you drift into the dream he had cursed you with, he knew he would never find peace again.

He had seen it in your eyes when he came to you that night. There was no anger, no fear—just a deep, silent understanding. It wasn’t the kind of acceptance that came from giving up; it was something softer, sadder. 

Maybe you had already resigned yourself to the fact that Suguru could no longer protect you, that the man he had become could only destroy the things he once cherished. He wondered if, in your heart, you had always known that the love you had given him so freely would be the very thing that led to your end.

Or maybe, he thought, you were simply too good for this world. Too kind, too pure. He never really knew. The way you looked at him that night, with the same softness you always had, even after everything. He couldn’t understand it. He had expected fear, maybe even hatred. But there was none of that. Just love, unwavering, even in the face of what he had become.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

HE PAYS FOR HIS SINS WITH THIS. Every evil act has a gift in return. Everything has a consequence. And he knew that you would die with some hatred in you. That you wouldn't go without a fight, without resentment. You would be bound to materialize as the shadow of what life could have been and the regrets he had made it to be.

Because of he had done, your ghost lingers. You were his constant reminder of what he threw away. You were all he wanted and all he had wasted. The person he loved the most and the person he ruined the most. In his mind, he can still feel the warmth of your embrace, still hear the way you said his name with love and trust.

He killed you because he had to. Because his mission demanded it—but the truth is, he didn’t want you to die. He had never wanted that. He had wanted you by his side, forever. But in his quest for destruction, he had destroyed the only thing that had ever truly mattered to him.

Even now, he can feel you. The weight of your absence presses down on him, but so does the weight of your presence. You’re always there, just out of reach, watching him, haunting him.

He sees you in his dreams, in his nightmares, in the quiet moments when he’s alone with his thoughts. He wonders what could have been, if only he had made a different choice. But that world is gone, along with you, and all he has left is the ghost of the life he should have had.

In the end, it wasn’t your fault. You didn’t deserve to die. But he had gone too far, and in doing so, he lost the one person who had always believed in him. Now, your love is a memory that torments him, and your ghost is a shadow that will never leave his side.

"Do you hate me?" Suguru's voice trembled as he sat at the edge of the bed where he had last held you.

No one was living here anymore, your parents couldn't bear it. And so he bought the house, with a proxy. And left everything just the way it was. The room still smelled like you. It always will. Everything in this house will be you. Everything in his life is you.

There were faint traces of the perfume you wore, the lingering scent of your skin, and the warmth that used to make this place feel like home. The dresses you liked to wear when you both would go on those rare dates. The smell of your shampoo lingers in your bathroom. He remembered the way his nose would rest against it when you both slept together.

The home had been so abundantly you. Everything about it was you. And now, it was just a hollow space, like a tomb. All his regrets lay there. All his grief resided here. Everything was here. And he couldn't take it. He couldn't abandon it. He couldn't live with it. But he had to. He has to live. He has to live haunted by you.

Because he was sure, hell would be his place. And he would never see you again. He would never know you again. He would only ever live in misery there without you, without traces of you. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, heavy and erratic, waiting for something. Anything. Just a little sign from the presence he could always feel around him.

You didn't answer, not with words. You never did. But there was a weight in the air, a feeling that always hovered when he thought of you. He could feel your sadness, the disappointment that clung to the silence between them. It cut deeper than any curse could.

"I... I didn't want it to be like this, my love." he whispered, gripping the sheets beneath him, the same ones you used to curl up in. His fingers twisted in the fabric, the pressure keeping his hands from shaking.

"I thought... If I let you go gently, it would be enough. It would be kinder. But I was wrong, wasn’t I? I should...I should have taken you with me. Abandoned the world. We could... we could have been together."

There was no reply, but the stillness in the room felt heavier. The silence was cruel. But it was what he deserved. He could imagine your eyes on him, those soft, kind eyes that had once looked at him with nothing but love. Now, he wondered if they would have only looked at him with sorrow.

"I loved you, the most in the world." he said, almost to himself. His voice cracked, the admission pulling something raw from deep within. "I still do. I don't know if that matters now, but I wanted you to know. Even after everything... I loved you more than I loved anything. Even the hate. Even the darkness. But that didn’t change anything."

The words felt hollow, like a confession given too late to a ghost that could no longer forgive. He buried his face in his hands, the weight of the years, of his choices, pressing down on him like a thousand stones. He did this to himself. He did this to you. He had no right to feel sorrow. No right to feel remorse or longing.

"I used to think I could fix it. That somehow, I’d find a way to make everything right. That maybe... Maybe if I succeeded, I’d see you again, and you’d understand. That you’d forgive me." He laughed, but it was empty, bitter. "But I don’t deserve it, do I? I killed you. I killed the woman I loved more than anything in this world, and for what?"

He stood suddenly, unable to sit still any longer, pacing the room. "What did I gain? Power? Control? None of it matters. None of it ever mattered without you."

The room seemed to shift then, the shadows curling in the corners, and for a moment, he thought he saw you. A glimpse, just out of the corner of his eye, like a faint outline of your silhouette. He froze, heart pounding, and for the briefest second, hope flickered in his chest. Could it be?..........

"Suguru......." Your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it pierced through the silence like a dagger. "Suguru........."

He turned, but there was nothing. Just the dim light filtering through the curtains, the room empty as it always had been. But the voice lingered, echoing in his mind.

"Suguru..."

He closed his eyes, breathing in deeply, trying to hold onto the sound of your voice, as though he could pull you back into reality. "I'm sorry, my love." he whispered. "I’m so sorry."

For a long moment, there was nothing but the hum of the wind outside, the creak of the old floorboards beneath his feet. And then, in the stillness, something seemed to shift again. The presence was still there, but softer, like a gentle hand on his shoulder, a touch that wasn’t quite there but wasn’t gone either.

"I never wanted this, I…." he whispered, his voice breaking. "I never wanted to hurt you. But I didn’t know how to stop. I couldn’t stop."

There was no answer, but in the silence that followed, there was a warmth—a fleeting warmth, like the last rays of sunlight before nightfall. It wrapped around him, gentle, forgiving, and for just a moment, he thought that maybe you didn’t hate him after all.

But then it was gone.

Just like you were.

Just like everything.

And he was alone again, in the house where you had once lived, haunted by the love he had destroyed with his own hands.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

HUMAN GREED IS THIS, HE LIKES TO THINK. Even though he was the most undeserving being in existence, he wanted to be greedy. He wanted to be greedy when it came to you. He can't help it. He wanted you, no matter what. He yearns for you no matter the case. Even if it's to curse him, he wants to see you again. You became a cursed ghost, bound to him like the shadow of every terrible thing he had done. 

Geto Suguru felt your presence in everything he did, in every step he took. It was unavoidable. When he would wake up, he knows you were calling his name. When he was in his dreams, you would look at him, without saying anything.

You haunted him relentlessly, silently, like a specter of the life he had stolen from you, and from himself. He couldn't escape you. He didn’t deserve to. He doesn't want to. He doesn't think he should. Not when he loves you most.

At first, he tried to ignore it. He tried to pretend that your death had been some kind of mercy, that he had spared you the pain that had consumed everyone else. Because that was what he had thought when he had taken your life. That's what he thought he was doing. He thought he was standing by you.

But as the years passed by, he knew that he was in the wrong. He accepted that he was in the wrong. That he had caused misery beyond compare. Not only for him but the most, for you. You were robbed of everything. Because he willed it.

And you couldn't accept it. He knew you wouldn't. Even if you had not done anything when he had killed you, you resented him. He knew that for a fact. Because you would not have materialized, your spirit wouldn't have lingered if that was the case. You resented him. And you loved him. You wanted him to pay and you wanted to hold him.

You followed him through the days and the nights, never speaking, but always there—watching, waiting. Your eyes, once full of love and warmth, now filled with sadness, sorrow, and something worse: disappointment.

If he was being honest, Suguru hated it. He cannot take how you look at him with those eyes. He cannot understand how it hurt him, how it can put him to the worst of grief. Over and over again.

He hated how tainted you had become because of him, how his hands, once capable of tenderness, had defiled your soul. You were twisted now, corrupted by his actions, bound to this cursed existence because of him.

He had stained you, dragged you into the darkness with him, and now, he could never set you free. You were a cursed being, a remnant of everything pure he had ruined.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw you. Every time he breathed, it was like you were just behind him, your breath a cold whisper on his neck. When he fought, when he killed, when he walked among the ruins he had created, you were there, like a silent witness to his sins. You never left him alone. And he had a love and hate for the fact. 

And in the stillness, in the quiet moments between battles, he would feel your sadness radiating from the shadows, like a knife twisted into his chest. The more he tried to push you away, the tighter your curse clung to him, a constant reminder of what he had done.

It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this. You had been innocent. You had been his love, his reason for hope in a world full of hatred. You were the light he had turned away from, and in doing so, he had dragged you into the abyss with him. And now, you were part of that same darkness. A monstrosity of his own making.

He wanted to give you peace. He wanted to free you, to find a way to release your soul from the curse he had placed upon you. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had gone too far, and there was no redemption, not for him, and not for you. This was all that was left of the love you shared—a twisted, haunted existence. You were bound to him in life, and now in death, you were bound to him still.

Suguru couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done to you. He couldn’t bear the weight of knowing that even in death, you had no peace. You should have been free, your soul at rest, away from the horrors of the world he had embraced. But instead, you were with him, suffering, watching him destroy everything, even himself.

"This isn’t what you deserved." he whispered one night, his voice shaking as he sat alone, surrounded by the cold, oppressive air of your ghost. "But that's all I have left of you."

And in his heart, he knew the truth: he had destroyed everything good in his life, including you. Now, all he had left was this haunting, this curse, this twisted version of the love he had once cherished. It was his punishment, the monstrosity of his own creation, and he would carry it with him until the very end.

You began to interact with him, more than just a haunting presence. At first, it was subtle—a cold breeze across his skin when the windows were closed, the flicker of shadows in the corner of his vision, the soft rustle of something moving when no one was there.

But as the days passed, it became more intense. You weren’t just watching him anymore. You were with him, and that made the guilt all the more unbearable. He could tell that you didn't know how to feel about it. One moment, you adored him. One moment you hated him. Each and every time, he took it. He yearned for it. He wants it to repeat over and over.

Suguru could feel it in every brush of cold air, in every movement you made. There was nothing left of the person you once were. You were no longer the girl who had loved him, the one who smiled and laughed, whose touch brought him comfort.

What was left was a hollow shell of your soul, twisted and broken by his actions. The broken body of a ghost that wanted nothing more to be free. To hate him, to love him and to leave him. And yet, despite knowing this, despite knowing that he had destroyed you beyond recognition, he still couldn’t let you go.

It was his greed that bound you, his selfish desire to keep you close, no matter what you had become. Even now, even as you haunted him, as you tormented him with your presence, he clung to you like you were his last lifeline.

He convinced himself that this was you, that this cursed, fractured version of your spirit was the real you coming back to him. He needed to believe it because the alternative; the idea that you were gone, truly gone, was too painful to bear.

In his twisted mind, he told himself that you stayed because you loved him. That even though he had shattered your soul, even though he had ripped you away from everything you knew, you still came back to him. You came back because you loved him the most. And that was enough for him, even if it wasn’t the truth.

But the truth was something he could never fully escape. He knew, deep down, that you hated him. He saw it in the way your spirit lashed out at him at night, the way you hovered over him, watching him with eyes that burned with anger and grief.

Sometimes, when the room grew still and dark, he could feel your hands—those same hands that once touched him with love—wrap around his throat, cold and vengeful, pressing down as if you were trying to choke the life from him. You wanted him dead. He knew that.

There were extreme nights, when you would feel your death over and over again. Where you would feel the anger and the grief and the pain overwhelm you. In those nights, you tried to kill him. Your cold, spectral fingers would tighten around his neck or press into his chest, making his heart race with terror.

He would wake in a panic, gasping for air, drenched in sweat, his body shaking from the closeness of death. And yet, even as he lay there, heart pounding, knowing you had just tried to take his life, he couldn’t let you go. The more you hated him, the more he needed to keep you close.

"I know you hate me, my love." he whispered one night, after waking from another attack. His voice was hoarse, his throat raw from where your ghostly fingers had pressed down on his windpipe.

"I deserve it. I deserve all of it. But… you came back to me, didn’t you? You could’ve gone anywhere, but you came back to me."

There was no answer, just the icy stillness that filled the room, but he swore he could feel you there, hovering just out of sight, watching him with those same cold, dead eyes as you kept pushing over and over again. You wanted him to die. You wanted him to pay. But he could see it too, how you wanted to stop yourself too.

"Even if you hate me, I need you here." he continued, his voice breaking. "Because you love me… you still love me, right?"

The silence stretched on, and for a moment, he almost believed he could hear your voice, your real voice, telling him that it was true. That you did love him, even after everything. That you wanted to say sorry over and over again.

But then, the familiar cold returned, creeping up his spine like the touch of death itself, and he felt your hands again, tighten against his skin. Only this time, colder, harsher, more brutal. More willing to kill. More willing to take his life in revenge. He had never seen you like this before. He had never seen you so angry at him before.

And he knew he deserved it. He knew it is what you should feel. He hurt people, he hurt you. He killed you. You had every right to want to take his life for yours. Even like this. Even after all this time. He would let you. As he had done before, he lay himself defenseless, at your mercy. He was ready to be taken to hell by your angelic arms. Even if he didn't deserve it. You pressed harder, digging into his flesh, as if you were trying to crush him.

"I’m sorry. I’m so sorry." he gasped, fighting for air, tears blurring his vision as he clawed at the emptiness around him. "I’m sorry for everything! But I can’t— I can’t let you go."

And that was the truth. No matter how much you hated him, no matter how many times you tried to kill him in the dead of night, he couldn’t let go of what little was left of you. You were all he had, even if what remained of you was a cursed, vengeful spirit, twisted by his own cruelty.

You were the only thing in his world that still meant anything. You were the last piece of the life he had destroyed, and he would cling to you, even if it killed him. Because that's the only way he could survive. That's the only way he could continue with this. Life is meaningless if you cannot be there. Even if it's to hurt him.

He hated himself for it. He hated the way his greed had tainted your soul, how his selfishness had turned you into this monstrous version of the woman he loved. The promise he had made was his failure. His eternal mistake. But it didn’t matter. In his broken mind, this was better than nothing.

"I’ll keep you with me, my love." he whispered, even as your fingers gripped his throat once more, sending waves of pain through his body. "Even if you kill me, I’ll never let you go."

For a moment, you were silent.

You just keep pushing on and on.

But he could see it as clear as day.

Tears were falling down on your face.

"I know." He croaks out with a struggle. He could feel his skin turn blue and purple as you kept pushing. "I....I know."

No, he thinks to himself. He will never truly know.

He was still alive.

And you were dead.

▐░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░▌

MISERY HAS COME TO AN END. This was what he had been waiting for since that day he had taken your life. He couldn't wait for it. He wanted for it to be over. He wanted for it to be done. As Geto Suguru lay there, life slowly draining from his body, Gojo Satoru stood above him, his face unreadable but filled with a deep, unspoken sadness.

The air around them felt thick, charged with the weight of years gone by, of a friendship that had crumbled under the weight of Suguru’s choices. But there was something else in that moment, something that Suguru had felt long before Gojo Satoru arrived. There was a presence that lingered, watching, always there. You.

You stood in the shadows, just out of reach but ever-present, as you had been for so long. He could feel your gaze, cold and sharp, cutting through the haze of his fading consciousness. He didn’t need to see you to know you were there; he always knew. Even as his body weakened, even as death crept closer, you were the one thing he could still feel.

Suguru's breathing was ragged, each breath a struggle, but he forced his eyes to focus, searching for you through the mist of pain and regret. And there you were—silent, ghostly, unchanged in the years that had passed since he had taken your life. 

Your face was a mixture of sorrow and rage, just as it always had been since you had become this cursed existence. It was so real, it felt so real. You were here. He had made you this way, and he knew it. The weight of that knowledge pressed down on him harder than any physical pain ever could.

“I knew you’d be here, my love.” he rasped, his voice weak, barely above a whisper. Blood trickled from his mouth, but he didn’t care. All that mattered now was you.

You stared at him, your eyes burning with the same hatred and sorrow that had haunted him for so long. But behind that, there was something else, something deeper that had always lingered between you….love. It was fractured, twisted by the years of torment, but it was still there, in the way you watched him now, waiting.

"I—" He coughed, the pain wracking his body, but he forced the words out, knowing he didn’t have much time. "I’m sorry… I’m so sorry. For everything. For what I did to you. For taking you away. I never wanted it to be like this."

Your expression didn’t change, but Geto Suguru could feel the weight of your emotions. He could always feel it, the depth of your pain, your anger, and the love that had been tainted by his cruelty.

"I don’t deserve forgiveness, my love." he continued, his voice trembling, "I know that. I don’t even ask for it. But… I need you to stay with me." His purple eyes, dark and filled with regret, locked onto yours.

"Hate me. Keep hating me for what I did. I deserve it. Stay angry. Stay hurt. Just—" His voice cracked, and for a moment, the mask of strength he had worn for so long fell away, revealing the broken man beneath. "Just don’t leave me."

You didn’t move, but something in your gaze softened, just for a moment, and Suguru’s heart clenched.

"I need you to keep loving me." he whispered, barely audible now, the strength leaving him with each breath. "Even if it’s hate. Even if it’s anger. Please… don’t ever leave. Stay with me, even in death."

There was silence for a long moment, the world around him fading, the edges of reality blurring. Gojo Satoru’s presence was there, a silent witness to this final moment, but all Suguru could focus on was you. The one person he had loved, the one person he had destroyed.

And in that silence, he thought he saw you nod. It wasn’t forgiveness. He knew that you could never give him that. Not even if you wanted to. So, he didn’t expect that. But it was something, a promise of sorts, that you would remain, that you would stay by his side, even in the twisted, cursed way you had been for so long.

You had no other choice. You were tied to him. Even if you were an angel, you were his to have killed. And you were his to keep. One way or another, you were doomed with him.

As the light in his eyes began to dim, Suguru let out one last breath, his body finally succumbing to the weight of it all. But even as the world around him slipped away, he felt you there, just as he had always wanted. He wanted forever. He wanted you to be bound to him, through love, hate, and everything in between.

And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Geto Suguru felt a sense of peace, knowing that in death, you would never leave his side.

As Suguru’s body lay still, life finally left him, your form so long bound to his cursed existence, everything had begun to change. The air around you shifted, the heaviness that had weighed you down for years slowly lifting.

You had been tied to him for so long, your soul twisted by the hatred and sorrow of what he had done to you. But now, with his death, the curse that had held you in this half-life, in this torment, began to unravel.

You felt it—slowly, like a breath you hadn’t taken in so many years. The pull that had kept you bound to him, the chains of guilt, anger, and love, began to fade. It wasn’t quick; the pain was still there, raw and deep, but it was easing, loosening its grip on your soul.

The twisted form you had taken, the vengeful ghost that had followed Suguru through every step, began to dissolve. You were withering away, piece by piece, the curse unraveling like a thread in the wind.

But there was no joy in it. No relief. Instead, as you felt your spirit beginning to break free, something strange and unexpected filled you—grief.

The years of anger, hatred, and sorrow were fading, and with them, the love you had once held so deeply for him, a love that had persisted despite everything. As the curse released its grip on you, tears began to fall, silent and steady, down your ghostly face.

Gojo Satoru stood above Geto Suguru, watching it all unfold. He had always known about you, the shadow that haunted his best friend, the curse that Suguru had created out of his own guilt and selfish love. 

But seeing it now, seeing the way your form withered away, your tears falling like echoes of a past long gone, it struck him in a way he hadn’t expected. He didn’t need to see the full story to understand what you were; what you had been to Suguru, and what he had taken from you.

Your tears shimmered in the fading light, and Gojo Satoru, ever perceptive, caught the faint glisten of them. He could feel the depth of your pain, even now, as you began to fade from the world.

The sight of your sorrow, of your spirit being freed but still weighed down by the lingering grief, hit something in him that he rarely allowed anyone to see. His usual mask of indifference slipped, just for a moment, and he sighed softly.

“Love really is the worst curse, huh.” he murmured to himself, his voice low, almost as though he were speaking to the empty air, to you.

He understood, more than most, how love could bind, twist, and destroy. He had seen it countless times in the lives of others, and now, here, at the end of everything, he saw it in Suguru’s last moments and in your ghostly form, finally free but forever marked by what had been done to you.

You didn’t answer him—you couldn’t. Your form was fading faster now, the last remnants of your curse dissolving into the air. But as you disappeared, your tears fell one last time, a final release of all the pain you had carried, of all the love and hate that had twisted you into what you had become.

Gojo watched you until there was nothing left, just the faint whisper of your presence lingering in the silence. He looked down at Suguru, his once closest friend, and felt a deep, bittersweet sorrow wash over him. He knew that, in the end, both of you had been cursed by love, in different ways. And now, both of you are gone.

With one last glance at the empty space where your spirit had been, Gojo Satoru sighed again, his heart heavy. What a tragedy of a life it all had been.

"Yeah……" he whispered to himself. "The worst curse of all."

[mari-the-bimbo]

Taking care of sick Dorm mate Getou is absolutely adorable but what about being taken care of by dorm mate Getou?👀

Dorm mate Geto: sick days

A/N: thanks for this idea hun, I’d do anything to be babied by this man 😩

“Can you pass me the salt y/n?”

The smell of sauce mixing with paprika traveled through the air. Geto and you were making cheese toast with spicy soup. Sure, he could’ve just had some store bought soup, but why do that when he could convince you to cook with him. Any excuse to have you alone.

“Sure, here” you said with a smile handing him the salt.

“Ahhh it smells so good” you praised, waving the smoke closer to your nose, eager to eat it already. Geto smiles at your excitement at he stirs the soup.

“Of course it smells good, I made it with the best assistant chef” he teases.

“Hey! Why am I assista- ACHOO!-“ your protest is interrupted by a sneeze.

“Oh?” he says.

You sneeze again. “Oh?” he says again but with amusement this time.

“You caught a cold doll?” He coos.

You would’ve replied to Geto but the throb of your nose didn’t make it easy. Geto even turns the stove off and leans back to watch you as you incoherently try to reply. You’re his favourite entertainment.

“Mhm that’s what you get for partying in barely any clothes on cold nights” Geto teases, referring to your night out yesterday. And although he said it teasingly, you could hear the snarky jealousy behind his voice, but you choose to ignore that too.

He smiles to himself as he covers the warm pan with a lid. “Don’t worry doll, we’re done now anyway, why don’t you get some rest hm?” He says so sweetly.

You nod in agreement. Walking away as slow as a snail. He chuckles as he watches your retreating figure.

But once you were out of sight, he immediately grabbed a bowl for the freshly made soup and grilled cheese. As well as grabbing your favourite mug to prepare a hot cocoa for you.

Once you made it to your bed, you didn’t rest for long until Geto invited himself into your room.

“Geto?” You look up to see your handsome dormmate skill fully manoeuvring the tray of food and cup in his hands. He places it on your bedside table before sitting on the edge of your bed. You stare at him in wonder, how could someone be so hot yet mature and kind?

“Well? You gonna eat or is it because you want me to feed you?” He teases. Right, his maturity was questionable, never missing a chance to pass a flirty comment so casually.

“Shut uppppp” you groan, hoping the blush on your cheeks just looks like a temperature.

He chuckles before moving closer to your face, your breath hitches but you release a sigh once you realise he was simply trying to grab the bowl of soup.

“C’mon doll, open wide” he says, your ears only burn more but you move forward to be fed.

You don’t stop him when he grabs your chin to tilt your head up higher as he fed you some soup. You can’t help but hum at the creamy tomatoey taste. “Taste good hun?”, you nod happily.

“But what about the cheese toastie Geto?” You ask, eager to be fed the toast too. He chuckles at you, before he replies “you’re a spoilt brat you know that?”

“Am not” you retaliate, contradicting your own point as you open your mouth to be fed the toast. “I spoil you too much” he explains, but this time, you don’t protest against it.

As much as Geto can be a meanie and watch Gojo brutally tease you or join in, there was no denying he spent rest of the time being affectionate with you and spoiling you.

“C’mon finish your hot cocoa now, so you can have you medicine, or do you want to be fed this too?” He teases, holding up the cup of hot choc, “shush” you reply playfully as you hit his broad muscular chest in retaliation.

But your reactions only rile him up further, “you like me taking care of you don’t you?” He says with an evil smile, grabbing your hand of his chest to pull you closer, “nooo” you manage to say between your own laughs.

But you inevitably end up being engulfed in his big strong arms as he cuddled you, “s’okay doll, I like taking care of you too”

You bury your face into his broad chest to hide the growing smile of your face. Nah, it’s just a temperature right? ;)

Meanwhile Gojo, who is still at the party from last night:

[queenpiranhadon]

So you know how collectively all anime lovers are almost always destined to never find love just because our standards have been infinitely raised?

I feel like Mimiko and Nanako have that problem.

Living in such a nice house with you and Suguru has been like a dream, but the type of love the two of you have for each other is so rare, that it's truly a once in a generation thing.

However, since the girls grew up surrounded by you and Suguru's endless love, it's been hard finding anyone who matches that.

"Ugh oh my god, Mimi, you know that once guy I was telling you about?"

Mimiko hums, sitting on the couch doing her homework by the coffee table while her sister is dramatically draped sideways over the armchair, recounting her latest dating fail.

"He was such a bitch, like he brought me a flower. A flower! Can you believe it?!"

You can't but overhear Nanako's complaints from the kitchen, poking your head out to investigate.

"Language, Nana." You warn, but you can't help but feel a little amused. "Also, flowers are super sweet, what's so bad about them?"

Nanako huffs and rolls her eyes. "Sorry, mama. But it was just a measly single sunflower! He was so insincere!"

You raise your eyebrow. "Don't you love sunflowers?"

Nanako pouts. "Dad gets you those big bouquets though. Ones with your favorite flowers but also those little white ones that make it all pretty and everything. And they're all wrapped up so nicely with those sappy love notes taped to them. Least I could get is a little bow."

You know exactly which bouquets she's talking about, and can't help but let out a little amused chuckle at her words. She wasn't wrong, Suguru did tend to go all out when it came to you, and you loved him for it, as always. But Nanako didn't really grasp the fact that not every guy would be like your husband - not that she didn't deserve every ounce of love that Suguru gave you on the daily, but it was just hard to come by.

"Nana, I am very fortunate to have met your father, but we've also been married for six years." You say, deciding to join them in the living room and sitting next to Mimiko who subtly moves closer to you, intrigued.

Nanako looks at you, with an eyebrow raised. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Love, we're in our thirties. The way Suguru treats me is going to be very different than how a fifteen year old boy is going to treat a fifteen year old girl."

Nanako sighs dramatically and stretches her limbs. "I guess I'm just destined to never find love."

You chuckle and her antics and Mimiko rolls her eyes.

"You think a flower is bad? This one guy took me to the movies for our first date."

"HE DID WHAT?!"

"Girls-"

A/N: Heheheh this is so goofy ahahah, realistically, Mimi and Nana would probably never be in a three mile radius of a boy just because of how protective Suguru is of them but oh well.