geto suguru x reader | slight hurt/comfort, established relationship, not proofread, wc probably under 1k, reader is Hastag lover girl
It takes a while for the cogs in your head to turn.
Your habit of ignoring yourself tends to cling on, even though you’re making a conscious effort to stop. Since dinner began a deep, buried sense of unease had anchored itself in your stomach. A feeling you think would be similar to what a military general feels during war—a consuming, primal sense of alarm.
You know the reason now, and you can’t help the embarrassment crawling up the back of your neck at the minor reason.
People will flirt and try their best with Suguru, even if he’s taken. It’s a statement you chant to yourself as you take fluttering glances at him and the friend of your friend, Sana, smiling delicately at him.
At the start of the evening, when everyone was bustling around, you two had been separated with Suguru now sitting on your far left. A small mishap because of your late arrival from the bathroom, and well, Sana had been more than happy to take your seat.
No reason to be bothered. You merrily sat down in the last empty place, next to Miwako and Shota. Suguru had sent an apologetic look, to which you returned a warm one.
Despite the reassurance, you were disquieted.
You know Suguru more than you know yourself and you pride yourself on it. From the seasons of his voice to the manner in which he strides, it comes to you all. Which is exactly why makes this situation is all the more confusing.
He isn’t rejecting her.
Not obviously, that he will never do to you. At least you hope it’s because of your friends around. But. Her finger tugs at the cotton of his shirt, and he keeps his arm there. You’ve counted her shoulder touching his three times by now, and each time your vision makes her out to be sitting far closer than need be.
The food in front of you, a plate of fresh shrimp pasta, tastes like rot on your tongue.
You resolve to look away, blurring his silhouette where he sits and pretending your mind is elsewhere.
Miwako bumps her shoulder with yours as she turns towards you, a smile stretched on her pale pink lips—readying herself to talk to you after her conversation with Saki next to her.
"Utahime told me it's your birthday soon," she starts, waiting to hear your plans.
You take a second to respond, "Not mine, Suguru's actually."
"Oh!" A moment passes. Her smile turns a touch teasing. "So. Your plans?"
She wiggles her eyebrows before doubling down, sniggering at her own thoughts. A curt laugh lodges itself in your throat and with great difficulty you play into it, look away abashedly.
Not a good idea. You turned right towards him. Your skin jumps up as your eyes meet his; his plum wine eyes so dark from afar that they seem bottomless. The intensity sets you alight; an expression so bold, directed at you from across the table, plain for anyone to see if any one of your friends stopped to look at him, then at you.
His mouth twitches.
You drag your face back to Miwako, a feat that required more will than you would admit, and straighten your shoulders. You can do small talk. You will do small talk.
You take a bite of your moldy pasta.
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"You weren't looking at me much today."
The weather is as rotten as your mood. A mixed temperature of sorts—it’s too cold to take off your jacket, and at the same time sweat clings to your armpits. Humid yet dry, and your lips feel chapped. You dig in your bag for your chapstick but Suguru hands his own out, offering it to you.
You look at him and take it, walking towards the bus stop.
Your voice is quiet under the city noise. "I did look at you.''
Gently, his hand takes yours, and he stops your stride, pulling you towards him. You pray you don’t look as miserable as you feel.
His voice is soft as he asks, "Are you mad at me?"
".....No."
"Did I make you jealous?"
Your eyes shoot up to his. They're embedded with emotions too mixed and conflated to discern, but you can see—guilt? Some sort of guilty, expectant look.
"Wha.…” you point your gaze at your feet. You have no right to be upset. There wasn’t a thing he did; it’s just you and your weird intuition. Although you are confident in it, you would hate to make it known. It would seem baseless, and childish to him. You’re sure of it. “…was it obvious?"
You wait, with a tight coil in your belly and deep breaths in your lungs. A look flits across his face, one you don’t see, as his warm hands come up to cup your face.
He closes his eyes, and opens them. Guilt. Yet theres so much love in them that your heart starts to quell.
"Others would get angry," he says, voice light in incredulity. "Only you would try and bear it alone."
A furrow in your brow forms.
"I don't understand," you murmur.
He leans forward, gentle and asking for forgiveness for something. Bumping his forehead with yours, he says, exasperated, "I wanted to make you jealous. I let her talk to me. I let her get comfortable."
Your stomach churns. "Oh."
"I missed you, when you were away. I got weirdly jealous. Miserable, really. It's childish, believe me I know it is, but I wanted to make you feel a little jealous to see if you missed me too."
You take his confession in silence.
Seconds droop into the next, and just as the time passes, so does the storm in your heart. The blood in your fingers feels honey-warm, and your heart sings in its cage.
"Say something," he whispers desperately, staring holes into your face.
"I love you, Suguru," you smile, bright and full. As if you haven't in years, "I'll never stop loving you, no matter what."
He stares. You watch as his neck slowly turns pink, the apple of his cheeks following suit.
You save him from answering by pressing your lips on his. You hear him take a breath and pretend to not hear the warble in it.
With no rush, with no hurry, your fingers come up to tangle them in his hair, as he walks you back and presses you against the wall. You two stay underneath the yellow streetlight for a while, kissing slow and soft. Your turmoil from dinner lost in the wind, and his heartache replaced by the love pouring into his mouth from yours.
under 1k. gender neutral reader. in this they have gotten a tan! (poorly written mind you it’s past midnight what do i say 💔)
The Okinawa sun burns hotter than you expected. From the moment you walked into the airport fresh off of the plane you felt the omnipresent layer of heat squashing the cool wind from the air conditioners placed in every corner. Outside the establishment you and Satoru, as he repeats twice, feel like you're in the middle of a saucepan over hot flame.
You imagined the beach to be on a whole other level, and it was. But you find yourself barely remembering the sweat slick on your nape, or the burning cement lighting up your feet through the cheap sandals you had bought from a little touristy store. In your memory of the day spent, there's nothing but blue. The clear, baby blue sky and the cool waters below.
Along with that, Riko. How she had laughed until tears fell or when she talked her heart away. You had spent a whole two hours building a 7 floor adventure sand castle where every room seemed to store something she always wanted to do. It made your chest ache and bloom like a pulsing bruise. But Riko seemed to know, and she shyly said to you at the end that going to the beach was one of her biggest dreams, and you made it come true.
With that, who can remember to put on sunscreen?
Now the sky above is two toned with pink and red streaks, the sun a yolk dipping into the darkening ocean.
Your hands feel along the iron banister of the street side, as you stare at the view in content while Kuroi and Riko wash up in the bathroom.
“You’re not goin' with them?” Satoru questions, walking up to you.
“Nah, don’t need to.”
You choose to look at him for a moment.
Moon-white hair tousled with sand that’s bound to stay even once you head back to Tokyo, and the burning comet-tail blue of his eyes. Paper white skin that you always make fun of for being borderline ghostlike- but in this sunset he looks... He looks-
Handsome.
“You gettin a crush?”
You blink. His sunglasses are back on, and he looks almost constipated.
“...Huh?”
“You shouldn’t look at guys like that.” He says, almost set into stone with how no muscle moves. Are you... going insane or are his cheeks kind of pink?
You cock your head to the side, hair blowing soft in the wind. “Like what?”
He doesn’t answer, but instead turns towards the waters and sighs loudly. Always a touch dramatic.
Then he grabs your arm and pulls you close.
You hadn't stopped staring at him, and now you look at his face incredulously. He keeps his gaze straight.
He changes the topic. “You don’t have a jacket? It’ll get cold soon,” he grumbles. He is blushing!
A smile in somewhat disbelief creeps up on your face; you don’t see this part of Satoru often. It feels familiar but you're left clueless as all the memories stick together. Theyre too few and intimate and nameless to think acutely back to. Only his cheeks dusted light pink remain with you and the silence that encompasses time.
A gust of air, a pre chorus of the night’s cool winds, rushes through your bodies. He tugs you closer.
You dont have anything to say, far too strangely endeared. But you want to get on his nerves so you say, “You should look at people when you talk, you know?”
He looks at you, ready to say something back, but then it vanishes.
The pink underneath his skin turns a shade deeper. “And you should wear sunscreen,” is all he manages, feathers ruffled.
“Hah?” You respond through a laugh, “Where did that come from?”
His hackles rise further and you’ve never enjoyed yourself more, “You’re all tan!”
You snicker, “So what? I think I look sexy like this.” You never even realised you had gotten tan over the last few days; through the chaos of keeping Riko from disappearing through the aquarium and checking your phone as Haibara blows it up with minute-by-minute updates, you had barely checked yourself in the mirror. But if it gets a reaction out of him, you're willing to say whatever
Grumbling under his breath, his ears now turning noticeably pink as well, you laugh good-naturedly and turn back to the beach below. The wrist still in his hold enters your consciousness, the warmth a soft press. Before you realised it, your mind was quiet for the first time in a long time.
A temple chime, soft and sweet, takes form in Riko’s call from behind. “Let’s gooo! I’m hungry!”
You turn your head to them: Suguru, Kuroi and her standing on the opposite sidewalk, “We’re coming!”
As you move to walk towards them, he tugs you by the wrist again. You look back in question.
