Oh lord more knight!reader and priest!Suguru thoughts. On the topic that reader wouldn't treat him as an equal, I think Suguru would almost encourage it. He's young, he's pretty, and you can't bring yourself to take him seriously. He just looks like a kid in robes, like the new recruits you help train to be your replacements one day. Suguru smiles with no teeth and looks at you with his sly fox eyes, and perhaps you let yourself be more entertained than you should be because he's too damn young to be a proper member of the clergy, which otherwise would make him untouchable.
He clings to you and guides you on too long walks that make your hip ache, chatters about the history of your city that you've never bothered to learn beyond the battles, because all that city planning nonsense is someone else's job. You know your city in and out, every house you've crossed on patrols for the better part of 30 years, all the gates you've pored over thinking about how best to defend them if the worst comes to pass and you lose all else.
Suguru doesn't really notice the source of your silence but senses the shift anyway and teases you in a silly, unknowingly tactless way. He looks so pretty right now, dressed in his long, embroidered robes not fit for battle, walking with light feet.
You feel a little appreciation for the kid, all of a sudden. And a little bloom of warmth further down, but that's something you're used to ignoring. You have no doubt he's making very good use of his looks and status to charm everyone who ever frequents that damned cathedral. Pesky little monk refusing to leave you alone, batting his dark lashes at you, staring at you like you're a puzzle to crack.
priest!suguru geto x fem!reader. a part of JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series.
tw: talks on religion, smoking :: edit: UPDATED
wc: 2k :: masterlist :: previous part
Sunday went as smoothly as he’d mull over in his head. The sermon was made to be a continuation of the previous one: where to find strength through God in the path of life’s obstacles. With Suguru moving voice and emphasis, the communion consumed and praised Him to be.
Wednesday rolled around, and it was a night of Bible study but more importantly, the potluck everyone was waiting for. Mrs. Kaskai and a few other church women set the picnic tables outside in the courtyard, her husband getting the lights to work around wooding postings. Mr. Weren brought propane for the grill, excited to be cooking ribs he had marinating in the church’s kitchen for a week now. With the Father’s help, they worked together as one to make it all happen for their community.
Suguru clicks a spoon to his glass to gather everyone’s attention. It was once simple click and heads turned without a second wasted. Children were hushed to soft murmurs and babbles, and all eyes were on him. Like they always were. And as always, he presented himself with a smile.
“There’s no doubt in my mind that the food we have here today isn’t like any other. Practically have a few five start chefs among us.” The crowd laughs heartily.
“The effort is seen and worth appreciating, especially with the succession of the bake sale!” Claps and cheers could be heard all around, including the father’s. They simmer down for him to continue. “It’s worth the celebration, so here we are, to bless and be blessed. Let us bow our heads.”
Small groups crowed around the food tables to get their pieces. As Suguru gives a nod of gratitude for Mr. Everest putting some on his place, he glances down to the array of foods. Each with their own signed cards of what was made and by who. His eyes glance over the varied names. His steps slow as they narrow in concentration, wanting to be sure he was seeing things correctly. A dark chocolate cake sat in front of him, with your name signed at the bottom. Did you come through here already? How come he didn’t see you?
He glances around, searching for your face in the crowd. When he came up empty-handed, the priest moves to allow the line to flow again.
The night went on as lively as ever, talking with each smiling patron after the next. He’d smile back, laugh with their jokes, but feel as though he was much farther from everyone than he really was. His words were half-hearted at best. Every now and then his glance takes him outward, looking to his surroundings. After the third or maybe fourth glance around, he eyes figure sitting on top of the hood of a car. A figure he’d recognize from his distracting thoughts.
“Are you alright, Pastor?”
He nods, blinking himself back into conversation with an older woman and her daughter. “Yes, my apologies.”
Those eyes wonder about again after the reassurance was made. Suguru knew the real answer to that question, and the one thing he could do to fix it.
The church parking lot only had about four street lights. You were under one of them, sitting atop your car, with a scent that he knew as clear as day. He shouldn’t approach you. If you looked like you wanted to be left alone, the result would have been just that. But his dress shoes keep their path, walking in your direction. Your head turns when you seemed to notice him approaching. Eyes glance at him up and down, he surely wasn’t mistaken on that. “Evening, Father.”
He greets you back with a mention of your name. Glancing away, he catches how you has a good view of everyone in the courtyard. Looking back, he asks. “Not one for these kinds of things?”
You blow out smoke to the side with a scrunch of your lips. “Not particularly.”
“May I ask why?”
Your smile feels like fingers crawling up his back. “Aren’t you off the clock, Father? No need to try and pull a confession.”
A warmth spreads on his cheeks, causing him to look away with an embarrassed chuckle. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“
“I’m only teasing you.”
What you pull from your pocket causes Suguru’s mouth to dry. A pack of cigarettes with a slight dent at the top. You pop open the carton, pulling out a stick. You look to the pastor, who watches your hands until he catches your gaze on him. It’s like you’re getting even worse for him to ignore— trading one slight for another.
He nods his head in your direction and you give him the pack. He hears the flicker of a lighter as he puts a cigarette on the trim oh his mouth. It parts, about to ask you for the light, until he feels something grab his shirt. Suguru looks up to catch the end of your cigarette with yours. Your eyes focus on making sure his lights, while his eyes can’t seem to turn away from your face. Not when you were so, so close. His heart picks up in light patters, hoping— praying, it was masked in his breathing.
He could only find himself to relax just as you finished lighting. You pull your head back, hand holding your sitting firm up from behind. Suguru leans his weight against the car with his back to you, entirely quiet.
There he was swirling in a spiral of water that never seemed to end. Why did you do that? The lighter was right there. He was just on the brink of being swallowed whole in your proximity. If only you ate a bit more.
He pulls the cigarette from his lips with shaky hand, blowing smoke off to the side. The silence remained so, but surprisingly to him, his shoulders begin to slack. His exhales become heavier as they roll out every stress of just that week. All in the intimate quiet you two shared.
“I suppose this was a much needed break.” He speaks up behind another inhale. You let your cigarette hang off your mouth as you glance to him. “Even you need breaks from all that religious zeal, Father?”
You were teasing him, he caught on it this time. Suguru laughs quietly, letting smoke follow after. "Of course I need a break," He replied. "As the head of this community, I feel responsible for everyone's well-being. Sometimes it's difficult to look after so many people at once.”
You both took a drag from your cigarettes. Your eyes look to the sky, watching as your smoke dissipates. Once again, you felt yourself be honest on holy ground. “I can’t imagine having to listen to them. Trying to solve every problem they have with a book older than the earth itself.”
Suguru didn’t know if he was supposed to take offense or not. But you weren’t exactly wrong. He knew how the people in the congregation operate. “People don't realize how much they project onto these ancient scriptures," Geto replied, nodding his head in agreement. "They don't consider the context of when they were written and how it may apply to their own situation."
He took another deep drag from his cigarette, exhaling the smoke. You slight your head in agreement. "Some people love to rely on something outside of themselves to tell them how to feel and how to live, I suppose."
What was that that felt like a wound in his chest? Pride?
“You don’t exactly sound like a believer.” He huffs.
“Neither do you.”
Something twists in his stomach. The same feeling of having your hand caught in the cookie jar as a child. He lashed his head to you, you and your calm expression that gives him even more whiplash. You shrug, pulling the tobacco tab from your lips. “Promise,” You finger traces an X over your chest. “I won’t tell a soul.”
Suguru catches your witty smile. Another tease, at least he had hoped with the hard swallow down his throat. Still, you did manage to get an amused exhale out of him.
“I…” He begins, only for his eyes to fall to the ground. His words change. “I just see things a bit differently than some of them.”
“Well?”
The pastor takes a quick inhale. "I believe a priest should listen to the scripture and offer guidance where needed, but also try to instill their own values and morals into the teachings."
You arch your brow. “That just seems…normal.”
He took the cigarette from his mouth, holding it in one hand as he leaned his back against the car further. "Some members think that's a blasphemous way of looking at it," he added. "That I'm perverting their precious lessons."
He laughed, exhaling a puff of smoke.
"I say, what's so blasphemous about using your own brain?"
Your brows quirk together, turning your head to the lively scene ahead of you both. “I didn’t know there were some in your congregation that find you that way.”
"I've learned a lot about my own congregation," He explained. "The members who are devout to the scripture are very sensitive to my every action. Any perceived flaw is bound to become a rumor in these circles."
Suguru paused, taking another drag. "Thankfully, I've managed to build up a good reputation within this community."
He glances over at you, eyes doing a once over before speaking. “To which you seem all the more distant from.”
You scoff, a cloud of smoke harshly pushed onto the air. You take your eyes back to the lively scene. The children playing in the grass, the sun setting behind the fumes of a grill. Chatter and booming laughter. It all seemed perfectly cut out for a holiday card. “I’m doing all this for my mother.” You murmur. “And I know when I don’t belong somewhere.”
He looks back to the ground. Those words sounded like ones that were temporary. He hoped not but the idea of you being here permanently didn’t seem too right.
A nudge of his neatly dressed shoulder snaps him out of his thoughts. His head bounces up to look at you. You were already half way down your cigarette when you talk. “Speaking of…you should go back.”
Maybe those words were his saving grace. A holy light appearing in the confusing darkness, perhaps a blessed creature creating a path to redemption. A way for his thoughts to distance themselves from your consumption. Perhaps your words were a moment of actual divine intervention.
"I think I'll stay with you." He states, almost confidently. “I…enjoy your company.”
The ends of your lips quirk up. Your hand pats a spot next to you on the hood of the car. Suguru looks between before obliging. Once he gets himself situated, he sees the view that she has of the social event. The congregation was in bursts of small groups. There was one person however, going from one group to the next with a slight of urgency. That group looks between each other, one straying off to act like the first— questioning and questioning. Suguru only let out a sigh, not a doubt in his mind what they were looking for.
You notice, turning your head to look at him. Huffing, you throw your finished cigarette on the gravel. He reluctantly goes to stand, running a hand through his hair as your hand pulls another cigarette. You place it at your lips. “Seems that’s your-“
That evening air beginning to settle in seemed long forgotten. You’re frozen in place as you’re met with his cigarette lighting the end of yours. His hands were placed on either side of you on the sleek hood. Suguru stood still between your legs to ensure that it would light— that he wouldn’t throw up his own heart. He simply just— moved. Jumped at the opportunity when it was clear for him. His tab was much shorter than when yours in the beginning of your smoke session, making your faces all the more closer. He could feel your breath tickle his face, just as still as he was. His eyes slowly look up to yours, that have been staring at him this whole time. The look within them changes. One that makes his throat too dry to speak.
priest!au suguru geto x fem!reader. from JUDAS, a kinktober drabble series. mdni
tw: slight sacrilege? hint of suggestive :: author’s note: if any would like to be tagged, reply here or on the masterlist. Ty <3
wc: 750 :: masterlist :: previous part :: next part
Tap, tap, tap.
A slow rhythm from the end of his ballpoint pen hitting his desk. The look in his eyes were dull, as every thought trailed into static. Crumpled papers missed his office trash can, a few scattered on his desk. Suguru sat in the neatly tucked away room of the church to come up with next week’s sermon. And well…the process was still ever going.
He was on another draft, a couple sentences in to introduce the theme. Yet he couldn’t get the words to flow. Each one felt more broad than before with no meaning. The pastor could jot things down, pull teeth each time, if it meant his thoughts could trail back to you.
And it’s not like he could help it. Your touch began to slither in his mind and bury itself there as soon as you left that evening. His own hand brushed over his forearm and it couldn’t remotely feel the same. Had it been that long? His face twists at the embarrassing thought.
Slowly, his eyes relaxed as they remained shut. He plays back how your fingertips merely brushed. There was a static shock, nothing for him be as delirious as he is right now— or at least under the surface. It seemed to crack the more he thought about it.
Your skin felt like a horizon, a warmth he didn’t know his body craved— yearned for since his years of freedom. Could you touch him like that again? Only to move higher? Would you trace the flex of his veins as if they were an outline to canvas? The soft hills of his muscles?
His head tilts. He tries to tear his focus away from you but it seems impossible. As if no force could rival the spiral of his thoughts. Your eyes, he rather his eyes irritate than risk one blink away from your gaze. He could look at you over and over and never be bored. It couldn’t have just been him the way you both linger on each other, could it?
He shakes his head at the thought, brows forming one frustrated line. No no, Suguru knows exactly what this is. Temptation has made its way into the church and it was the devil’s doing. His resolve was weak, mind not fortified when it comes to you. How could he be so blind to the sheer power of the dark arts? This was what his parents were afraid of— put in his head over and over to keep himself pure. They let his earrings go, the tattoo was a total mess. They don’t know about the smoking— would He find a way for them to know if he could not enact the Word?
His hand goes through his hair to pull him from what felt like an endless body of water. Would you run your fingers through his onyx locks? Caress it with care from root to end?
Suguru crumbled the paper in front of him, straightening the new one. His eyes practically bored into the white space wishing for words to appear.
‘Faith over fear…when all else feels fragile…turn to the word of God.’
He knows the word. Was taught of it in his youth, knew scriptures like the back of his hand. He studied as if it was the pinnacle of enlightenment, as it was such for his family. The pastor could hear his father’s authoritarian voice, his mother’s soft harmonies over the gospels, echoing in his head. So why can’t one verse come to mind for his teachings?
Suguru let’s out a sigh, running his hand over his face. Another rhythm comes about when his knee begins to bob up and down under the desk. Pen begins to slowly tap again. Fragile, fragile resolve. Weakness under the heavenly eye. Unraveling thoughts, unraveling, peeling, exposing, undressing, that dress, your skin, your body, your hands, on him, on his arms, his chest, his neck, his-
SLAM!
His hand slams the pen down on the wooden desk, panting as his eyes shot opening. His breath was twisted and ragged, holding it in a hard swallow to catch it. He goes on to shake his head and jump from his seat. Suguru gathers his things, fingers fumbling his pages into his bag. He grabs his thick coat and keys with a hand turning off the office light as he already was out the door.
tw/tags: mentions of the Bible, Christianity (it is solely picked for plot nothing more, nothing less), etc :: introduction to JUDAS, kinktober drabble series (mdni)
wc: 1.3k :: masterlist. :: next part.
The Geto family was a devout and honorable one. Generations upon generations did the men of the house dedicate their lives to reach the word of the Heavenly Father. Suguru’s route was no different— crooked, but narrow on the holy path.
He’d become the father of the church months ago, to herd the congregation into a fruitful community. Pressure weighed heavy at his shoulders, but in the end, he knew it was for the best. Wasn’t it?
“And while we are tempted by the devil in more ways than one.” His smooth voice went on. “It’s the persistence, the strength, and the true power of the Lord’s light that keeps us on the divine path.”
Suguru takes a glance to his notes, a finger moving from one page to the next. “As Peter 5:10 states: And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.”
It earns him a few hums in agreement and ‘Amens’ from the crowd. He takes a breath. “So know that the obstacles in your path now, the ones you pray to be vanquished, may be the key to your own glory. For your glory, is His.”
The crowd rumbles in cheers and claps. Suguru gives the room a smile. With a slow glance around the room, he takes in all their excited faces full of hope to hear the Holy word through him. It was these same old faces he had gotten used to seeing in the worn pews of the church. The same ones he’d run around with his best friend as a child when services were over. Everything remained as it was, as it was suppose to be.
So that’s why his breath unconsciously hitched when meeting your gaze.
Your eyes were new. He’s never seen them cry in the name of repentance, never seen them look at him like he was the Messiah himself. Not even now in the mists of a worshiping crowd. Your expression was poise, calm— orbs slender in observation.
You cut the staring short, looking ahead instead. It’s only then when he can hear the clapping back at full volume. Suguru blinks a few times to return, eyes going down to the timeline in his writings. “And with that, we’ll end today’s service with a prayer.”
The congregation bows their heads in unison. He catches how you were much slower in doing so. Keeping his eyes on you cautiously, he speaks a worthy word to his people. “O’ Might One, we thank you for allowing us to celebrate you on this day. Your spirit is poured out onto this place every Sunday morning and we could ask for nothing more...”
With the service finished, church goers socialize amongst one another. Greetings, catchings of last night’s game, news that the youngest born has ridden a bicycle for the first time. Suguru always had an ear to their happenings, not that he had much of a choice. As soon as his dress shoes hit the carpet floor, he’s instantly surrounded by a group of parishioners. As always, they wanted to make their priest happy and see him smile.
A older woman clasps his hand in hers, squeezing it with a pleasant expression. “An excellent sermon, as always Father Geto!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Kasaki-”
“Did I tell you about little Callie’s recital?”
He chuckles. “Yes, last week. She had practice then, correct?”
“Oh yes! It was a dress rehearsal, her big debut was this last Saturday. She was so adorable in her purple tutu! And she only picked that because she’s growing out of that pink phase, little thing. Oh! Let me grab my phone-”
A low quality video later, one handshake leaves for another. “Pastor! Did you see the new restaurant down the street that they’re building up?”
“No? I don’t think I have.”
“Oh yeah, I think it’ll be a new fusion place. Never knew that they had stuff like that!” A hearty laugh comes straight from the man’s belly and Suguru’s obliged to laugh as well.
“We’ll have to see if we can get the church together for its opening.”
“I’ll see if I can put a word in.”
“There you go, Pastor!”
And another. “Father, did you ever get the chance to look at my inquiries on raising funds for the elementary school?”
“The box tops, yes?”
“Mhm! When will you get started?”
“We can have something up by Wednesday.”
Another. “Father Geto! I just have to get your opinion on this recipe for the potluck-”
Another. “Give your parents a big hug for me won’t you! It’s been so long since I’ve seen them-”
And another. “And this is little Devon! He’ll be staying with me for the summer and he’s already enjoying the kids church service-”
Hands come and go within his grasp as he speaks with each one of them as they trail out. His father told him it was a way to build trust and community, and who was he to argue with the face of the church?
As he wishes one of the elderly women goodbye, Suguru keeps a watchful eye on her when she goes down the stairs. He turns back, starting a little when he’s met with your presence incoming. His body straightens up and you stand in front of him. “Father Geto?”
“That it is.”
Your hand extends in his direction. “Beautiful service. You have many who think the same.”
His eyes lower to your hand, glancing up to you when he takes it. The larger one warms your grasp. He lets out a soft breath. “I appreciate the flattery.”
You raise a brow at him. “Can’t be flattery, after all, your admirers would disagree too.”
Your words earn another exhale, this time with a faint laugh behind it. His slender eyes keep to yours, can’t finding himself to look away. Curiosity eats at him to ask. “If you don’t mind my asking, but are you new in town?”
“I am.” You answer politely. “My mother grew up here, wanted me to see her roots.”
“I’ll be the one to tell you that her roots were made in quite a small place.”
You chuckle softly. “Oh I’m quite aware. Still, it was one of the things she wanted us to do together before she passed.”
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.”
He watches you glance down at each other’s hands. Seeing that they’re still connected, the pastor pulls it away— hoping you wouldn’t notice how quick he did it. His eyes were lowered, so they had no choice but to follow upward. That meant scanning over your body and attire— a turtleneck dress and high boots with stockings. He straightens when his eyes reach your face. “And you are?”
You give him your full name, and he repeats it back to you. “It’s lovely.”
“Thank you.” You repeat.
Eventually, you head to the church doors. He follows behind as you were the last to leave. You turn back to give a final glance and him a final goodbye. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Father.”
“Likewise. I hope you to see your return to the church soon.”
“Perhaps.”
Your gazes never leave each other when he goes to shut the doors. The wooden beings echo with their closed status, knocking the air back into his lungs. His brows furrow. Why did he take notice to your clothing?
You dress nice, that’s all. The father shuts his eyes, shaking his head as he goes to tidy the pews.
