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.
thinking about being the one in control during sex with geto… his twitches and urges to guide you to how you can use him to please yourself…the look on his face when you do the opposite and solely focus on him. the pleasure, the itch to have this moment be mutual instead of just him, and the sweeping affection that spreads across his chest for you. you pretend not to notice his lips warble, like a leaf being shaken in air.
his want grows. his movement smoothens out, and you urge him to take. to tell you what he wants and you’ll do exactly that. a sigh so low, so infused with ecstasy comes out from his mouth as he asks you to touch him. to twist his nipples or to play with his hair and lightly pull his scalp. your hands on his hard muscles, his hands on you. you watch with pride, with accomplishment as he loses himself in the scent of you. in the scent of your love mixing together, a thick sweet scent of sex. you don’t think he’s ever looked better beneath you like this. his hair spread out like sea waves, dark and coiling towards the shore. his eyes hazy and focused on you. panting, reaching for your touch. fkfkfkdlskskfbhsj
Suguru being completely bedridden with a high fever would make all the intense neediness flood out. He is battling on the front lines to keep it steady asfksgk he’s so embarrassed 💀💀 He tries to get up: to wash his face or change his clothes because he’s sweaty from the night but you won’t let him and he doesn’t know whether to give in or try to make it as less of a chore for you as possible. Huffing, you slap away his hands and his heart hurts with your care. You peel his shirt off drenched in sweat and he cringes but you pay no mind. Tenderly, you wipe at him with a damp washcloth. His neck, shoulders, chest and armpits.
You return with a new cloth to put on his forehead as he pathetically lays in bed. But outside his embarrassment, he feels at ease. A tender muscle of his heart being poked at. His eyes never leave you and you’re too busy tending to him to notice. If you did notice, he wonders, how would you react? To such clear eyes of love?
You are pulled away by Satoru for classes, leaving him with the window you’ve opened to let the breeze in. There’s probiotic yogurt on his desk, medicine and water to accompany it. You’ve cleaned his room from the mess it was from the terrible night he went through and you had changed his bedsheets with him too.
He drifts off to better sleep with your face in his mind, your song in his heart.
Geto kisses with purpose, with intent. Focused on showing you how much he wants you; even the touches and whispers leading to the kiss is laced with sensuality. The nip on your earlobe, his hand sliding up your waist and running along your back until he cups your neck, titling your head up to show your face to him. Utterly malleable and weak for him. Pawing at his chest for him to kiss you already. His lips hover above yours, warm breath on your mouth, and you mew. Without thinking, anyway.
But that does it for him. Like a prince, a gentlemen, a lover— he presses a sweet kiss on your lips. An offering to your alter. His lips part and he guides you through his dance. Playing with your hair as he gives attention to your bottom lip. Sucks it, and goes to your upper lip. Breathes into you and says to open your mouth, and you do. His tongue languidly goes over your teeth, the ridges and points of them all while he sets you down on his bed. Black hair cascading around you, curtaining the world so that his face is all you see when you shyly open your eyes to look at him. You pant when he lets you go. A string of saliva from his lips to yours. It makes him take your face in his hands again, his lips taking yours again with added fervor.
Geto as a vampire is like. Alright so im eternal and so are my friends. yay community. but it's no human's fault and I have to kill them to keep myself alive. what if I kill myself
Geto has such versatility bc any mc would be perfect. Annoying mc gojo = lightly chiding/scolding mother hen. Insecure mc = gentle love and guidance mother hen. Depressed mc = servitude to the hundreds mother hen. Horny as sheet mc = all knowing mother hen who gives in because it’s good for you and teases you because it’s not good to over indulge. Ambitious mc = supportive mother hen
