tags: fem reader, oral sex, penetrative sex, uni-ish setting, feeling warm and sappy and i miss suguru so, so much, very soft
geto suguru has always been a lover. the way he’d talk about his high school friends and late parents showed it enough. he’d say their name with love, which he knew was unspoken of due to his situation but never ending in his heart. the way he’d bring up his two friends, and sometimes his lower classmen, nostalgic in the way he’d speak of memories he wished he could relive. the way he yearned to have the ability to rewind time sometimes to just have one more spare moment walking alongside them.
love never left his tone, whether it was about his bittersweet years of high school or the sweetness that was newfound ever since you introduced yourself to him.
and loving you came as easy to him as did breathing.
first came the way in which he’d speak to you once he felt himself beginning to fall. four months of knowing him, and a softness set in his voice that you had to work for. finding a small sense of trust in the man, which soon bloomed into his growing yearning to learn more about you. to hear the way you’d speak so effortlessly to him, and how he’d mumble an ‘mhm’ and reassure that he wanted to hear you. that you weren’t rambling for nobody, but for the man who requested time to be with you.
second, came the time he’d ask to spend with you. he’s always asked to meet you for dinner after a day you’d complained to him about, an attempt to make the day a little brighter. he’d pick you up between classes when he had the time, allowing you to sit in his car. and he didn’t mind if you had a reading to do before your next lecture; he’d stay quiet and mess on his phone while you quietly outlined the chapter of the textbook. geto didn’t mind what the two of you did as long as he was with you when you wanted to be with him.
and once you found comfort and security in the man, it wasn’t a rare occurrence for you to leave a key under the outdoor mat for him to allow himself into your home. he’d kick his shoes off while he awaited your return from class. and in the hours he had to wait, he couldn’t help but notice the dirty dishes in the sink and the fridge that had a little too much food for it all to be fresh. geto knows you. he has your class schedule memorized and knows what you’re learning about in each. and he knows you’re busy and finding the time to take care of yourself is hard. naturally, he finds himself scrubbing the dishes and setting them to the side to dry, playing some soft jazz music on his phone beside him and humming to the tunes with his hair tied back. and he thinks to himself… why stop there? he’s checking the expiration dates for things in your fridge, cleaning your bathtub, and running a vacuum on the expanse of the floor in your apartment. but he doesn’t forget to check the watch on his left wrist, noting that it’s a perfect time to leave and pick you up from your class. he grabs the drink you like from the coffee shop that’s on your street and is picking you up with a soft smile and an offering of your favorite.
once you and geto had shared your first kiss together, hands interlocking on the middle console of the car, domesticity bloomed between open cracks. so he decided to send you his first gift on a random sunday morning in the form of a bouquet of flowers from the mailman being placed into your hands. the flowers bright and fresh, the smell alone overtaking your senses. the flowers that suguru had sneaked into a conversation once, asking you a series of questions, and one was simply, "what’s your favorite flower?" of course, you don’t remember, and suguru's relieved when you send a photo of the flowers with a text that’s asking, ‘how did you know i loved these?" after the first gift, he’s generous with more. ranging from the treats he’d pick up when he’d pick you up from class, work, or home to that dress you eyed at that shop last week. he’s well off financially, working enough not to have a worry about rent being due, so showing his care through gifts isn’t hard when you have wandering eyes and his heart is being filled with love.
being physical with you was the last barrier suguru wanted to touch. he’s a gentleman, after all. that’s when you learn how soft his hands are and how clean his nails are. the digits long and palm big against yours. you’re the first to hold his hand, but once he realizes that the gate’s officially opened, he’s not shy to hold yours whenever the two of you are walking alongside one another. though, when palms get sweaty, his is finding your lower back and guiding you gently. a small reassurance that, if you look in the direction opposing your boyfriend, he’s still there. his touches always have meaning, never half-assed or for the fun of claiming you as his. no, his touches are soft, sensual, and meaningful. he runs his hands up and down your arms to feel the bumps that form under, touching your thighs and pushing them open softly, with permission from you.
suguru is soft the first time he tastes you, hands holding your thighs open gently as his tongue rests on your entrance. he makes sure to differentiate fucking from making love because he only realized he could do the latter with you. wanting to connect your bodies as one in the sensual movements that he showed care while doing. pushing your hair out of your face while pressing soft, assuring kisses to your skin while whispering soft words. “you’re really the one for me, princess.” once years pass and that sentence finds further confirmation, he's pressing his seed into you and flourishing under the idea of living under your care, and you, his, until your deathbeds.
minimal words were said when suna entered the study space he knew you were in. the same room at the end of your apartment hallway that became a sort of meeting space for the two of you.
he walked in, a greeting in the form of eye contact as he slung his backpack in another chair, taking a seat beside you. "hi," you roll your eyes, watching until he’s sat and going back to your computer. he hums, setting his elbow on the table and resting his cheek in it, full attention facing you.
"new shirt?" suna questions, eyes falling where your exposed chest is out on display for anyone who glanced in your direction. cleavage enticing for him, but it irks him that you’re wearing it out and in the open. don’t you know he’s the only person who’s supposed to see your skin? especially when it’s unmarked by the man himself? "yeah, do you like?" your concentration moves from your computer screen to suna, a small grin on your lips.
"too much," your eyebrows furrow and you scoff. it should’ve been expected, but a mixture of annoyance and something warm stings your chest. if suna didn’t care about you, he wouldn’t care what you’re wearing, after all.
your head nods, looking down at the buttoned sweater that does show more skin than you’re used to. but, it was new and you wanted to feel more dressed up—outside of your usual attire of sweatpants and crewnecks. a smile graces your lips, your thumb and index finger move downwards, finding the top button and undoing it. more skin being exposed as you do so, "that better?"
"slut," he rolls his eyes in nothing but annoyance, lips in a straight line while his hand moves to grope the soft flesh that’s covered by the sweater. and if it weren’t suna, you’d smack whoever’s hand away. but it was him, and nobody was in the room with you, so you let him. you liked knowing that he was enjoying himself because of you.
his hands fall underneath the fabric of the sweater, fingers feeling on the lace bra that’s underneath. it makes his cock throb some, moving underneath that fabric and letting one of your breasts spill out of the fabric, then the other. cold air hitting the warm skin as it sits outside of the top you’re wearing. nipples perked, and smirk hitting suna, a slight change to his bored expression.
"‘kay, then work like that," he says, taking his hand away to dig into his backpack and grab his computer that has one too many stickers stuck to the backside. "since you wanna be a fuckin’ slut, show everybody who walks in" he glazes his eyes back to you, lips continued to stay sitting up on one end while his hands type away into his computers passcode.
you can only thank the design of the room, a door with only a tiny window to see through sitting on it. your tits fully exposed and sitting pretty on top of the new sweater you’d bought, pleasing suna as every so often his hand moves to pinch one of your hard nipples, enjoying the sounds that stay in your throat.
a few minutes later and it starts getting too cold for you to think you deserve punishment anymore, so you’re fixing yourself up. suna has headphones in and doesn’t give you a spare glance, so who cares? you fix your button and go back to working at your desk space.
it’s only when another girl walks into the area with you. low waisted sweatpants that show off her curves nicely, a top that shows her cleavage more than yours did and hair thrown up into a messy bun.
she’s staring and grinning at suna the second she walks in. naturally your eyes move to his and he’s letting her suck him dry with eyes alone, smirk gracing his lips while he traces her body with his eyes.
without a glance in your direction he’s moving his computer to sit near her on the other side of the room. chatting and talking until his hand finds it’s way on her thigh and you think you hear the unbuckling of jeans from behind you.
but, that was proof alone that he cared for you. after all, he didn’t give any disapproval to the girl who walked in with her tits out… it was only you he punished.
Like. When someone just keeps talking to you and minorly pissing you off. Its like theyre always hitting the wrong dialogue option over and over and it slowly drives u insane
