i love you purple i love you lavender i love you lilac i love you wisteria i love you violet i love you mauve i love you periwinkle i love you amethyst i love you
synopsis: amidst it all, you can’t help but feel like something has been crossed, a reluctant confession forced from your quivering lips as he lapped your humiliation up without revealing his own hand. people say all kinds of shit during sex, right? shit they don’t mean, garbled nonsense as they lose themselves in the moment. it doesn’t have to be anything more than that. but it was real for you. you had meant it. it’s left you feeling exposed, and you hate it.
content: suguru geto/reader, jealousy, rough sex, degradation, some light anal play, friends with benefits, porn with a bit of plot, both are bad at feelings, confrontations happen, happy ending i repeat HAPPY ENDING (4.3k words)
a/n: this is the part 2 of dumb love, i love being stupid, so i highly recommend clicking that and giving it a read first! i think it would make this part more satisfying and provide more context imo, but it can also be read as a standalone story if you’d like.
geto suguru isn’t a jealous man.
at least that’s what he thinks — he doesn’t do relationships, and because of that he’s really never had a reason to be jealous.
he thinks he isn’t a jealous man, until he finds himself in a shitty bar in shibuya, eyes pinned on the man who has his hand on your knee and a sleazy smile on his face. he’s sitting way too close to you, but instead of looking uncomfortable like you should, you’re covering your mouth and giggling, your eyes forming half-moons as you laugh at his jokes.
the dress you have on is too tight and too short, and suguru glares from across the bar as you flirt shamelessly with the unknown man, unable to focus on a single thing his friends are saying. he grits his teeth when the man leans in to whisper something in your ear, and you smile and nod in response to whatever the fuck he said. he watches with narrowed eyes as you both stand up, the man now leading you by hand to the exit - an uncharted, ugly feeling rising in his chest.
he has to suppress the alcohol-fuelled urge to walk over and fight the asshole himself, but shoko has started to catch on and is staring at him with furrowed brows and a look on her face that reads, don’t be fucking crazy, so he takes another swig of his drink and settles back into his seat.
he throws her a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, to which is received by a scoff and a light shake of her head.
okay, so he might be a jealous man.
he’s also not a particularly communicative man, so he prefers to express his feelings by pushing your face down into the mattress, fucking you wildly, and taking his emotions out on your swollen cunt. he likes it when you cry, when you beg for him, and he’ll never admit it to himself, but - when he gets to press kisses to your flushed lips when you curl up to him in bed after.
so he pounces the next time he sees you, pulling off clothes and pressing hungry kisses against your mouth that leave the both of you breathless. he’s angry, he realises. angry that another man has gotten to touch you, angry at himself for idly watching it happen because he’s too scared to make you his. but you are his, no? you are his, he reasons, and that must be why you come back to him every time. he’s been rough on you, made you cry once already tonight, and you’re still soaking wet and mewling for more.
he hates you, he loves you, he hates how he loves you.
you’re currently on your back, legs splayed out so prettily for him. your chest heaves with the way you’re panting, lust-filled eyes just barely staying open to watch the way he drives into you. he’s got you all marked up - hickies trailing down your tummy and peppered across your inner thighs.
but his mind isn’t entirely there - it flashes unhelpful images of the same man from the bar, kneeling between your legs, tracing his fingers down your soft skin, taking what isn’t his. did you also moan this loudly for him? slick dripping from your cunt, fingers entangled in that undeserving bastard’s hair? the thought is venom in his veins, burning away at every once of composure left within him.
“turn,” he commands urgently. before you can respond, his hands are already gripping your hips, beginning to manoeuvre your pliant body to rest on your hands and knees.
“suguru, slow down, what’s gotten into y-“ you protest breathlessly, attempting to wriggle away from his iron grip. suguru’s big, and you’ve always struggled to take him from certain positions, this being one of them.
“c’mon, baby,” he coaxes. “be good for me. turn.” it doesn’t matter anyway, because his strong arms are in the process of pushing you into position, just the way he likes it.
he presses down on the small of your back, getting you to arch for him. “stay like that for me,” he commands darkly, his thumb trailing down the curve of your spine. “that’s a good girl.”
something is weighing on his mind today, you can tell that much, but suguru always plays his cards too close to his chest for you to find out what it is. you know he would never really hurt you, at least not in any way you didn’t want - you trust him, so you let him bend your body how he likes and run his hands all over you, haunting, but never hard enough to bruise. you liked the feeling of being his to take, craved for all his touches, rough or gentle, you wanted them all.
you whine in anticipation, which seems to amuse him further. “poor baby,” he laughs, low and mean, his voice dripping with mockery. the tip of his cock drags along your folds as one of his hands kneads the flesh of your ass, making you shiver and jolt. “can’t handle it from behind? too much for you?”
without any warning, he pushes his cock in all the way, and you gasp out, hands fisting the sheets and toes curling. “holy fuck,” he groans. “how are you so tight? you’re so good for me, so good to me.”
and because you’re stupidly susceptible to him, to his filthy words, you involuntarily clench down hard on him, walls fluttering around his cock.
“ha, see? i knew you liked it.” he taunts cruelly.
your attempts to pull away are futile as he presses you down into the bed, fucking into you relentlessly. by now, your moans have quietened into whimpers, your head foggy from the feeling of intrusion that you feel all the way deep within your stomach. you feel so full, his cock stretching your hole in impossible ways.
it’s pain and it’s pleasure all at once, melting into each other and fanning the fire growing within you. you’re unable to respond in any meaningful way, so you mewl and grip the sheets harder.
your cries are mixed with the sharp slap of skin meeting skin - completely lost in the sensation of his cock pressing against your walls, so much so that you don’t feel his hand sliding down the small of your back and over to your asshole. without any warning, he pushes his thumb in, breaching your sensitive rim, and you yelp, falling forward as you do.
“suguru!”
it feels good, but the pleasure is momentarily lost in the fear of what he might do next. you’ve done anal a few times with suguru, hell, he was the one who took your virginity, but he’s got both length and girth, and you know it’s not just something you can jump into without preparation. he might just tear you apart.
“relax, baby,” he drawls, his tone slow and calculating. “i was just wondering… if you let anyone else fuck you here?“ his thumb pushes against you again, just enough to make your breath hitch, before pulling away to circle your entrance roughly. “or is that reserved just for me?”
huh? you freeze beneath him, trying to make sense of his words. so this was what he had been playing at? suguru never brings up other people, other guys - call it an unspoken agreement, the same way you never bring up any other girls, so you’re confused about where this is all coming from. he was being weird tonight - marking you with hickies despite your protests, his kisses hungrier than usual, and his movements a little rougher and harder than normal - but you don’t understand why.
you bite your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction.
“so do you? answer me, i want to know,” he demands, his voice low. “do they get to see you like this? huh? how many other guys do you spread your legs for?”
when you don’t reply again, his palm comes down harshly on your ass, making you jolt in surprise.
“no! no, no, f-fuck. not… only you,” you stammer, jolting a little every time his finger grazes past your sensitive hole. it’s a good thing he can’t tell just how much your cheeks burn at your confession.
“yeah?” comes his taunting voice. “you sure about that?”
“y-yes, yes, god, suguru, only you, i swear-”
“who’s fucking you right now, baby?”
“y-you, suguru, please.”
“what about that guy from the bar, hm?” he presses, his thrusts deepening. “i saw you.”
you don’t even have half the mind to ask him how the fuck he knows about that guy, not that it even went anywhere. you had brought him back to your place that night, but all you could think about was how he wasn’t suguru, didn’t smell like him, didn’t touch you like him, couldn’t make you feel as good as he did.
“how’s that a-any of your business?”
he barks out a cruel laugh and you immediately start to regret your choice of words.
“oh yeah?”
one of suguru’s hands gathers your hair in a ponytail and pulls your head back, jerking it towards him so you’re forced to lift off the bed, kneeling as you press close to his chest. he holds you tight against him like that, and you feel his hot breaths against your neck, smell his sweat and cologne on his skin. you’re completely at his mercy in this position, helplessly whimpering as he continues to deliver hard thrusts into you.
you’re falling apart on his cock pathetically, and it almost feels like you’re choking with each rough push into you.
you know you technically don’t owe him an answer, but it leaves brokenly from your lips anyway when his cock brushes against your sweet spot repeatedly. you would put up more resistance, spit back some clever retorts, or maybe ask him why he cares when he wanted casual in the first place, but he’s practically spearing you open, stretching you out and fucking all rationality from your head.
“we didn’t- i didn’t do anything, he left, he left, please, fuck-” you sound absolutely pathetic, but that’s because you are.
putty in his hands, be it entrapped or enthralled.
his pace falters for a split second as he processes your words. then he hums lowly at this, the sound vibrating against your skin as he strains forward to press a few wet kisses on your shoulder.
your heart swells with conflicting emotions at the implication of his words. he really seems to have bought into it, the false idea that you could possibly entertain other guys besides him. a tide of devotion and sadness; fondness and frustration takes rise in your heart. desperately, you want him to know it’s really only been him. but then again, you also hope he never finds out just how weak you are for him.
you huff into the pillow your face is pressed down into, trying to hide the way your voice shakes. “if i didn’t know you better, i’d think you were jealous.”
“yeah well,” he grits out. “maybe i fucking am.”
he doesn’t leave you time to quip back or question if he truly meant that. “so tell me, baby,” his grip on your hips tightens as he picks up the pace, jolting you forward with every thrust. “are you a whore? or just my whore? you sure are moaning like one.”
you’re certainly more flushed than ever by now, but you continue to deny him a proper response, the obstinance not fucked out of you just yet. you mumble your reply unintelligibly into the pillow, refusing to give in to him.
“go on, tell me,” he demands again. “i’m not asking twice.” at that, he draws his hips out, until only his tip remains inside you, before roughly driving the full length of his cock back upwards. you let out a muted screech at his movements, feeling the way he brushes against your cervix and stuffs you full, full, full.
his other hand snakes down your front to toy with your clit, rubbing and rolling it between his fingers. he doesn’t let up, doesn’t show you any mercy as he fucks you harder and deeper, nearly driving your overboard with the stimulation.
you would have nearly toppled over if it wasn’t for the way he was anchoring your body to him. your hands are clutching his tightly, digging your fingernails into his skin and leaving angry red marks as you fight against his relentless movements.
you realise then and there that you aren’t getting out of this, so you cry out and confess, with all the sincerity of a remorseful sinner professing their transgressions to their god, because it’s true anyway, isn't it? there’s no point denying it when he’s got you fucked out and pliant under his grip. you know he’ll only let you cum once he hears what he’s looking for, and your desperation is quickly building.
“m’ yours. y-your whore,” your voice is hoarse and raspy from all your crying and moaning that night, it barely registers as your own. tears still streak your cheeks as you uselessly grasp at the sheets, body trembling under his unyielding thrusts.
“fuck, that’s it, baby,” suguru groans. deep down, he knows he’s being unfair to you, doesn’t have the right to stake any claim over you at all, but it’s the way you moan for him that quenches the scorching jealousy in his chest. it certainly makes the guilt a little easier to bear. “-squeezing me so tight, wanna cum for me again?”
“yes, yes, please!”
his hips snap harder against you, and his fingers continue to rub firm circles on your clit. the building pleasure finally reaches its climax as your walls squeeze and flutter around his cock. you’re trembling and unravelling against him, feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm wash over you in waves.
“fuck baby, take it- ah, take my cock, baby. you look so hot like this. might just have to ruin you so no one else can have you,” he pants, pace starting to get sloppier as he nears the peak of his own arousal.
biting through the overstimulation, you resist the urge to tense up and run from his unforgiving cock. the sound of you moaning and mewling against him melts into the noise of your wet cunt being pounded into, creating a downright obscene display.
you’re thanking him and pleading with him at the same time, although you aren’t even sure what for - a rambling mess in his hands. it’s not long before he’s spilling his hot release into you, chanting sweet praises into your ear.
suguru swears under his breath as he pulls out, relishing in the way his cum leaks out of your swollen cunt and trickles down your thighs.
your thighs are still shaking as your flip over, mind hazy as you come down from your high.
“you alright?” he asks, settling tiredly down next to you. he raises a hand to wipe at the tears that have streaked your face. “you always get awfully silent after we fuck.”
he lingers behind you for a moment, his chest rising and falling in heavy bursts as he catches his breath. his arms wrap around your figure as he pulls you towards him, fingers rubbing your skin in small, smoothing circles. the comfort is short-lived though, because he pulls away from you, and the warmth quickly dissipates.
‘i’ll get you some water,” he murmurs, rising from the bed and shuffling to the bathroom.
you offer no response, instead finding yourself staring idly at the slight dip he left in the mattress. you liked when suguru was rough with you, liked when he would whisper degrading things into your ear that made your pussy clench. you liked it, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it just now.
but amidst it all, you can’t help but feel like something has been crossed. a reluctant confession forced from your quivering lips as he lapped your humiliation up without revealing his own hand. and for what?
people say all kinds of shit during sex, right? shit they don’t mean, garbled nonsense as they lose themselves in the moment. it doesn’t have to be anything more than that. but it was real for you. you had meant it. it’s left you feeling exposed, and you hate it.
you knew the inevitable consequence of mixing your feelings towards suguru with what was supposed to be casual sex (to him, at least) would eventually come back to bite you in the ass.
before you know it, fresh tears spill from your eyes and roll down your cheeks, saturating the pillowcase your head is resting on. you don’t even know why exactly you’re crying, but it probably has something to do with the complicated cocktail of emotions you’re feeling as you come down from your orgasm.
your lower stomach still feels like it’s pulsating, and your pussy feels so, so empty without suguru’s cock inside you. your heart feels just as empty too, a sinking and aching feeling that hurts even more than usual after the way he confronted you during sex.
most of all, you just want him to be honest with you, for once. no half-truths, no games, you just want suguru. you know him, and because of that you know there’s a lot that he hides behind that charming smile and calm exterior. everything about suguru is intentional, restrained, and calculated. you desperately wanted to see him bare himself to you, just as he had forced you to, to deny himself the urge to always have the scales tipped in his favour.
god, when was the last time you cried? probably not in months, and it’s a weird mixture of emptiness, catharsis, and relief as the tears stream down your face. you bite your lip and curl in towards your body, trying to regulate yourself amidst the haze in your mind.
perhaps you should never have played with fire, but your fingertips have long become numb from being willingly burnt by the flames.
and played with fire you did. you had played games too, trying to keep suguru at arm's length, slipping out of his apartment every time without so much as leaving a message, dropping subtle indications of dates you had been going on and men you had been seeing.
but you weren’t so much a willing player as a desperate one. you didn’t like the game, you only craved the player. you were afraid of losing to him, afraid this delicate dance would be called off forever once he was done.
now, shedding tears from mere words said in the heat of the moment, it was clear that you had lost.
a rational part of you that remains wonders if you're reacting unreasonably to this situation. what must he think of you? crying? asking what would be the dreaded question of what is this to you? he had already made it clear, hadn't he? you were only going to be embarrassing yourself.
some salty tears reach your lips, and they sting of frustration, desperation, and bitterness.
you’re so lost in your floating thoughts that you don’t notice suguru making his way out of the bathroom, a towel and bottle of water in hand.
“hey, i got you a-”, he stops in his tracks when he hears your muffled sniffling. “are you okay? did i hurt you?” he asks softly, eyes now wide with concern as he takes a tentative seat beside you.
it only overwhelms you more.
did you have to be breaking apart to feel his warmth? wordlessly, you shake your head, unable to speak.
he had hurt you, but not in the way he thinks.
you had been pretending for months and months to be okay with your arrangement like the suffocating weight of unsaid truths hadn’t been causing your insides to rot and die. above all, you didn’t want to ask for something he didn’t truly want to give, you didn’t want to beg.
suguru calls your name, this time more firmly. “please,” he says desperately. “you have to talk to me. i need to know what’s wrong. where does it hurt?” he reaches a hesitant hand out to you, but you shrink away before he can make contact.
his eyebrows furrow, trying to make sense of the situation. it’s a small movement, but you feel good denying him of something, however insignificant. suguru’s always been so impenetrable, and it feels satisfying to watch him falter.
you had expected to have this conversation eventually, but you had also expected yourself to be a lot more… composed. instead, the words are tumbling out of you the moment you finally blink the tears away from your eyes to look at him.
“i can’t… i can’t do this with you anymore. i just can’t,” broken sobs leave your quivering lips and the tears veil your vision so quickly that you can barely make out the expression on his face. “you can’t make me say those… those things when it doesn’t mean anything to you. when i don’t mean anything to you.”
“i-,” he starts, but his voice is wavers. his lips part, then press back together as he looks away from you, dropping his head. all the brashness and aggression from earlier has evaporated, replaced by a guilty look in his eyes.
“tell me, suguru," you question hoarsely. it was going to be your turn to demand answers. “what does this mean to you? am i really just.. just a convenient fuck to you?”
he’s still silent, his raven hair falling across his face and obscuring his current expression from your view. the scene makes you scoff, shaking your head in frustration at his lack of reply.
“i-” when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, etched with raw emotion. “i… i haven’t been fair to you. and i’m sorry,” he murmurs. “you mean a lot to me… and i’ve been shitty at showing that. i never meant to hurt you.”
his words grab at your heart, leaving you questioning their meaning. you're unsure if he truly meant them, or if they were only said to placate you. you sit up, wanting to look at him properly when you ask your next question.
“then what am i to you? what is this to you?” you whisper, swallowing hard. “because i… i can’t keep pretending that i’m okay with being casual when i’m not.”
“it’s… not your fault. i know i never told you,” you continue quietly, your voice breaking under the strain. “and it’s… okay if it was never anything more for you, really. but please, suguru. i just need to hear it from you directly. once and for all.”
you detest the way your lips tremble as you speak. you’re sure it must be a pathetic sight, the way you’re completely falling apart in front of him.
“it was never casual to me,” suguru says suddenly, exhaling shakily. “you’re… everything to me. everything. i just… i didn’t know how to handle it. the way i feel about you. it scares me. it scares me all the time.”
you don't know what you were expecting to hear, but it certaintly wasn't that.
everything? that one, singular word echoes in your head as you silently repeat it to yourself, replaying the way it sounded rolling out of his tongue. the word, applied to you, feels like it doesn’t belong in his mouth. at least you’d never considered that it could.
endless nights spent tossing and turning in bed, burning through hypothetical scenarios and inevitable confrontations and yet - you had never considered this possibility.
“when i saw you at the bar… it fucking drove me crazy, i don’t know why. i mean- fuck, i know why. i hated seeing that. i hate thinking about you with someone else. i want you to myself,” he admits. “today… i guess i just wanted to hear that from you.”
this is the most you’ve ever gotten out of him, so you stay quiet, wanting him to keep going.
“i’m sorry,” suguru repeats. “i’ve been a real fucking asshole. you have every right to hate me. i should have said all of this sooner.”
he watches you carefully, body tense as his dark eyes scan your face, trying to get a read on your emotions.
“i could never hate you,” you reply eventually, shaking your head softly. hate? there was love, there was pain, but never hate.
you’re more devoted than you are weary, ultimately.
“just… fuck, suguru. why? why didn’t you just say that? you made me feel like this was nothing to you!”
“because-” he starts, low and unsteady. “because you see me, you always do. i can never really hide from you, you know that? you peel back the layers without even trying. it scares the shit out of me.”
his confession hits you right in the chest, with all the force of a tidal wave. it’s a rare display of vulnerability from his part, and your heart pounds loudly as you take in the implications of his words.
you stare at him, searching his face for any signs of insincerity. hoping you would find some indication of deceit to prove your disbelief right.
instead, all you find is raw, unbridled honesty in his dark eyes. you almost can’t believe you’re hearing this from him, seeing this side of him, given all that he’s withheld from you.
“i’m so sorry,” he whispers again for the third time tonight. “don’t cry, please. you’re the only one too, you know. there’s no one else.”
you can understand the double meaning behind his words.
no one else that he’s been with.
just you.
no one else that he wants.
just you.
the hand that reaches out to touch your cheek carries so much unexpected tenderness that it catches you off guard. it instantly melts away any frustration you had been holding onto for so long.
“let me make things right,” he implores.
“okay,” you breathe out, feeling the word slip from your tongue, all heavy and rough. it’s more than just a word - it’s unspoken forgiveness and understanding all at once, wrapped in the terrifying feeling of putting your heart in another’s hands.
it's an enormous weight, but it leaves you feeling lighter than before you had said it.
“i’ll hold you to that.”
“okay.” suguru echoes. his eyes soften at your answer, a flicker of relief crossing his face.
“stay here tonight? don’t run off again.”
it’s the first time he’s asked.
you offer him a small smile. “alright.”
lying there with suguru, his dark hair splayed out like splattered ink on his white sheets, arms draped around your body, all the noise in the world stills.
tender kisses quieten the storm in your heart, and the soothing trail of suguru’s hands lulls you to sleep. his warmth seeps into you, filling up the cracks and hollow spaces within.
maybe this could be the start of something new.
a/n: thank you for reading!! likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated <3 i would love to know what you think 🫶🏻🤍
