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mambalae-s · 1 year

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sugar — geto suguru x reader

wc: 4.3k

cw: ceo! geto x employee! reader; unprotected sex; office sex; semi public sex; reader is described as a black woman; she’s not explicitly called chubby but she is described as plump; creampies; oral (reader) receiving; one instance of spitting; one instance of choking; mating press; a sir kink you dont have to squint too hard to find; not at all proof read; if i’m missing anything, please let me know!

notes from author: yeah, this went an entirely different direction than what i had planned… this is an nsfw post — if you’re under 18, PLEASE do not interact with this post. i will block you.

suguru’s certain you have no idea the kind of effect you have on him. he’s so entirely convinced that you’re oblivious to his struggle to merely contain himself with you sitting across his mahogany desk, dark stockings hugging your plump thighs and that short, a-lined skirt just barely sitting over your lap. you wear your hair like a regalia, beautiful, thinly done tresses of black braids half-tied at the back of your head where the rest flowed down each side of your body, the ends of them elegantly curling while you’d left two braids to frame both sides of your face — a style called french braids, he’d learned when he’d asked you curiously.

his mind is so far gone from words of acquisitions and business meetings that you read from your prepared document, eyes zoned in on your plump, full lips that glisten on strawberry flavoured gloss. he’s so distracted by the ‘o’s formed on your sweet voice, every sentence sinking themselves beneath his skin like drops of honey that rush through his veins and churns within his blood like a drug. he leans back into his chair, throwing his head back in unhidden frustration and releases a groan, and the sound of it snaps your attention from black printed words to look up at your ceo.

“sir?” you call him, hesitant. you cock your head to the side worriedly. “i’m sorry, is it not how you want to proceed?”

suguru shakes his head weakly, brushing his thumb over his lips. “no, no,” he assures you, “that’s not it at all. you’ve done great, in fact. it’s perfect.” he sees the way your brows furrow over your dark coloured eyes, the way your lips part on words you don’t let out, and suddenly, he feels too hot. “i’m sorry, ms. (l/n). it’s just especially hard for me to focus right now.”

“oh, i understand.” you utter, shifting to sit a little straighter in your chair. the action causes your breasts to shift beneath your low-cut blouse as you close your manilla folder. and suguru, he has to remind himself to breathe. “well, we do have some time before the board meeting if you’d rather we look over the details some other time?”

suguru hums in agreement as he stands, forcing his eyes off you and walking over to the left wall where he keeps a fine array of wines and expensive liquor. “yes, let’s do that then.” his hands reach for a bottle he knows you enjoy most out of his collection, an itallian imported masseto merlot. he reaches for two wine glasses and turns to you, offering you one to take. “how about we enjoy a drink for now?”

you rise from your seat to stand next to him, taking the cup from his hands. he wonders if you’d felt your fingers brush against his, if you’d perhaps done it intentionally to tease him. ah, but he knows you better than that — even now as you hold your cup out for him to fill, he knows that you’re far too shy to ever think of trying anything with him, your boss. you’re always the respectful and diligent worker, always and ever doing your best to meet his expectations and go beyond. he’d be lying if he tried to say he didn’t look forward to seeing you every day, or that he dreamt of doing unspeakable things to you right here inside his office. even standing this close to him, suguru feels his pants tighten at the uninhibited view he has of your plump figure, your breasts tempting him as he loses himself on your sweet scent of fresh linen and honey oats.

“is there something on your mind, sir?” unaware of the thoughts clouding his mind, you innocently flutter your eyes to peer up at him with your glossy lips pursed atop your glass. he watches you take a sip of the dark red liquid and thinks about it wetting your mouth, imagines the satisfied sigh as something far dirtier, unprofessional, and how you would sound with your legs folded against your chest. he imagines all the ways you’d cry out for him, to beg him for more until he turned you into a whiney mess.

“it’s just…” again, he clears his throat. he reaches one hand up to loosen his tie, showing off the expensive watch on his left wrist. “been a long week, that’s all.”

your lips form a sympathetic pout as you lower your glass to your chest, your forearms unconsciously squeezing your breasts together and, have mercy— how can you make the dirtiest things look so innocent? “i’m sorry, mr. geto,” you offer, “i’ll certainly try harder to make things a little easier for you… is there anything i can do for you?”

“oh, no, miss (l/n), you’ve already been such a great help to me—” he stops himself midway, his dark eyes turning thoughtful as he considers. the idea that pops into his head is an awful one, he gives himself second enough to consider. but, what is he supposed to do when you stand so close to him, eyes innocently looking up at him, your very breath hanging onto his words? here you are right in front of him, so open and willing to help him, and perhaps— no, not just. suguru’s certain you don’t mean your words in the way that he thinks, but the very sight of you, the thoughts he has of you late at night and even now, it overwhelms him and tells him to cast aside all logic and give in to viscous wanting.

suguru quietly draws a breath, sets his glass down atop his desk and bites the bullet.

“well… there is something you could do for me.” one, two, it only takes him three short steps until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough for the smell of your sweet, honey-scented oils to fully wrap around him and fill up his lungs. his figure basically shadows your much smaller frame, towering over you as your eyes nervously met his. he focuses on the way your brown lips hang open slightly, on the way your pretty eyebrows furrow over your expression. he focuses on the deep breaths you take that cause your chest to rise and swell, lets himself go on the slight squeak in your voice when you hesitantly call him.

“sir…?”

“what if, ms. (l/n),” suguru hums, reaching his hand to your own glass of wine, intentional when his fingers cover yours. “i told you that you’re what’s been distracting me all along?” like a hawk, he observes every flicker of thought that crosses your dark brown eyes. first, he watches them widen on surprise, then they waver back and forth before lowering to where he held your hand, the deep red colour of your merlot surely not what holds your attention. you’re flustered, he knows it by the way you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, but he’s not kind enough to let you hide that beautiful expression from him. slowly, as if not to scare you, he takes his fingers and holds on to your chin, tilting your head to where you had no choice but to meet his stare.

“i— i’m,” you pause, your lips trembling so deliciously, your breath ghosting against his skin like an autumn’s gentle breeze. “i’m not sure what you mean… mr, geto…”

“you aren’t?” suguru lowers his voice to a whisper. he imagines he could hear your heart thumping inside your chest, that he could feel your pulse racing underneath your skin, and he wants more of it, wants more of you. “let me show you exactly what i mean then, ms. (l/n).”

he tells himself to be gentle as he leans in, tilting your head up so that his lips meet yours finally, finally— and suguru nearly loses himself to the sensation of being swept off his feet. gods, you’re even sweeter than you’ve ever tasted inside his dreams, the living flesh and bone version of you kissing him back so softly as if you’d walked right out of his fantasies and come to find him at daylight. he can sense the hesitance behind your lips, an uncertainty weak to your own desires as you lean further into him. your hands reach for his chest and you pull away with a breathlessness, gasping as you look up at him, showing to him your worries, your fear, your mutual want.

“mr. geto, we shouldn’t do something like this here,” you whisper as if afraid your words would be heard by someone passing by. though suguru could tell that, if he pushed, you wouldn’t be able to resist. your fingers feebly grasp at his arms, bunching up the white fabric covering his biceps and, oh— you pull him closer, yet not close enough to close the gap. he looks at you and sees it then, in the way your lips pout up at him, that—

“you want this too, don’t you?”

he touches a hand to your cheek and feels heat radiating from you in waves. pulling you closer, he brings that hand to cup the back of your neck and revel in the feel of you being so close to him, your chest so soft against his as his other hand falls to squeeze your hip. gently, he tilts your head to one side to expose your neck and he lets himself be greedy, leaning to drag his nose against your bare skin, lips just slightly parted so that you could feel his warm breath ghosting against your cheek.

your knees nearly buckle beneath your weight and you have to squeeze on to his biceps even tighter, for fear that you would collapse if you don’t hold on tight. “y-yes…” you quietly gasp once he finally presses his lips to your skin. the feeling of him harshly sucking your neck is enough to cause your head to spin, for your legs to clench together at the new heat that pools in your panties. you feel him begin to press forward, and as you step back, he chases you, pushing you until the back of your thighs hit his desk. the sensation of cold wood is stark against the waves of searing heat that pours from the both of you and you stumble for a moment, accidentally knocking his pristine ceo plaque to the red carpet below.

“then,” suguru’s voice sounds slurred. his words are heavy and he sees the way they weigh you down as his fingers skillfully pull the first buttons of your blouse. he takes in the picture of you with reverence and worship as greed swirls within his gut, tightens his pants and makes him forget anything that didn’t have to do with you. with one hand, he pushes you further until you’re sitting on top of his desk and leans in once more, ever more wanting to feel your lips on his. “don’t think about anything else right now. just focus on me, yeah?”

dazed, it’s all you can do to nod ‘yes’ as he slots himself between your open legs, his hands squeezing down on your hips and pulling you forward until his bulge presses right up against your core.

it’s hard hold himself back any further, and suguru abandons his inhibitions as he hungrily slots his mouth against yours, the kiss almost universes different than the last. where before, he’d been experimental, testing the waters almost and tasting you for the first time, he now devours your very soul like a man starved of water and you, his fountain found in a scorching desert. his lips are searing as they move, and he pours so much into you that it becomes too much and it burns so deliciously, filling you until whimpers slip out from you and your hands hungrily pull apart his buttons. his nails dig into your thighs as he bites down on your bottom lip and pulls before he begins to press kisses against your cheek, trailing wet, impatient lines of spit along your jaw.

“you have no idea how long i’ve wanted this,” its almost a growl when he speaks, low and dangerous as he feels himself slipping further. his teeth sink into your dark skin and he sucks, hard, relishing in the moans that you reward him with. “how badly i wanted to have you till i couldn’t sleep at night.”

“s-sir wait,” you try to call him, struggling to find your words amidst the fog clouding your brain. he’s sucking your skin so much that you fear he’ll leave marks, yet your voice seems to only urge him to leave more. “not there, people will see— ngh!”

he doesn’t pull apart when he grinds his bulge against you, letting you feel just how big and hard he’d gotten for you. each move he makes sends you reeling, the pool between your legs enough to soak you right through your stockings as he rolls his hips into yours.

“focus,” suguru reprimands you, lowly growling into your neck. “all your attention on me right now. do you understand?”

when you take too long to respond, he pushes one hand around your neck and squeezes, causing you to squeal as he pulls your head back to face him. your mouth hangs open, gasps of air struggling to make it past his hands, his spit smeared all across your lips, cheek and neck with the beginnings of purple bite marks forming on your dark skin — you’re the perfect picture of a mess, your beautiful brown eyes glazed over by lust and desire, so far gone from your normally neat and put together appearance, and it’s all because of him.

“understand?” he bleeds the word slowly, and, feeble, you respond with a desperate nod of your head, barely managing to force out a ‘yes sir..!’ through his grip around your throat. you try to squeeze your legs around his waist, wanting to pull him closer, to feel his cock pressed against you once more, for any kind of friction, but one hand swiftly pries them wide apart as his fingers snake between them. startled, you try to squeeze them close, though your body quickly loses its strength when his slender digits press up against your dampened core.

god, you’re already so fucking wet, you’re dripping enough to leave dark coloured stains atop his wooden desk. suguru marvels at the feeling of your slick practically pooling along his fingers, coating them as he rubs slow, teasing circles over your clothed pussy. “look at that,” he says breathlessly before pulling his hands away to lick at them, and the taste of your essence causes his cock to twitch against their restraints. popping his fingers out of his mouth, he shoves them past your gaping lips for you to swirl your tongue around, a groan escapes him once you begin to suck and whimper around them. “fuck, (y/n), you’re making it hard for me to control myself.”

his thumb brushes against your lip and he pulls your mouth open, dizzy when you eagerly open your mouth for him to spit into. “such a dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?” he grins as you swallow with a moan, “yeah? never dreamed i’d see you do something like this, ms. (l/n). were you thinking about something like this everytime we spoke? hm?��

a sharp ripping sound startles you, though you hardly have the chance to regain your bearings as suguru finally touches you in the place you need him the most. your pussylips are basically sopping and so, incredibly swollen, your clit so eager for him to touch you when he presses his thumb against it. “f-fuck…!” you throw your head back, hissing and biting your bottom lip to contain your cries, all while suguru marvels at seeing you unravel. you’re completely under his control like this, a pretty little doll in the palm of his hands that he could toy and play with until your mind would crumble. the revelation blazes through him like a wildfire and swirls like a ferocious torrent — more, he wants — needs — you to break even more.

“i want an answer, (y/n). how badly did you want me to fuck you all this time?”

you try to respond, though your words fall apart on a weak, wavering cry of his name as he sinks two fingers inside you, feeling them split apart your walls before pulling back out slowly. he uses his knees to keep your legs from clamping shut while his free hand slips your bra up over your chest, letting your full mounds fall freely for him to squeeze. large, brown nipples perk up under the exposure of the cold air, pointy and sensitive beneath his thumb when he pinches one and softly twists. he groans, nearly panting, your pussy clamping down around his middle and ring fingers. “you’re so fucking tight, you’re just leaking and making such a mess. must’ve been waiting for me to fuck this pretty little cunt, huh?”

“nngh, sir..!” oh, those pretty little cries you make would be the end of him. he wants more, wants you to fall apart utterly and completely until your mind would be blank and you would be nothing but a blabbering mess. he wants to feel you, taste you, to devour you whole.

swiftly, he drops down to his knees and spread your legs wide open, one on each of his shoulder for him to see your messy cunt. he’s mesmerized at the view of you, sopping and dripping as your hole squelches around nothing, greedily begging for him to take it and make it his.

above him, you’re barely able to register his movements before you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his mouth hungrily sucking your pussy, and it catches you so off guard that you release a loud cry of his name. “suguru…!”

“shhhh. shhh, baby,” the man doesn’t stop for even a second, muttering the words right up against you and sending shockwaves through your core. desperate to keep your voice down, you clamp your hands over your mouth as you feel his tongue flicker against your swollen clit, back and forth before he begins sucking and lapping. your essence pools all over his tongue and suguru feels himself getting drunk, diving his tongue between your folds while his fingers drill in and out of your hole, filling the large office with sloppy, slurpy noises as he coaxes ever single drop he can out of you.

despite you trying, you fail to hold your voice back as the coil within your gut tightens and your vision grows spotty. his fingers repeatedly brush against that spot deep inside your cunt that makes you see stars and you can’t catch your breath. your moans turn into strangled cries as your legs clench around his head, and you can’t pay any mind to how tightly you’re squeezing him between your plump thighs as you grip his hair to pull him closer. “aah..! aghn! nnngh..! fuck, sir, i’m close…!” your hips begin to buck as you chase your end, desperate for your climax as he groans between your legs and sets a relentless pace with his tongue and hands. he focuses his mouth on your clit while his fingers stretch and fuck your cunt and you taste like honey, pouring into his mouth as he laps it all up and milks you for everything you could give him.

“cum for me, princess.” his muffled voice shoots through your core like lightening, and you feel that coil in your gut reaching its height. you’re almost there, you’re so close, you’re so fucking close— “make a mess all over daddy’s face, come on. thaaaat’s it, baby, gimme all of it… don’t hold back and fucking squirt for me.”

he curls his fingers inside you, and the coil snaps like a bullet shot right through you. your orgasm crashes into your body as every muscle inside you seizes, your cries and whimpers unrestrained and nearly deafening. tremours reck through your figure as suguru coaxes everything out of you with sweet praises, till you squirt all over his face and fingers and you collapse against his desk, sending several important documents and utensils clattering against the carpet.

“shit…!” your eyes barely register suguru’s form hastily rushing to his feet, stumbling and lightheaded, his face and shirt absolutely drenched in your cum as his fingers unbuckle his belt. you see his cock spring out from his boxers when he pulls them down, and in your fucked out daze, you admire how pretty it looks. the pink tip smacks against his toned stomach, the length of it thick and twitching as he grips your thighs and he’s so fucking big. fuck, you start to panic, but your body’s far too weak for you to move quickly, barely able to lean up against your elbows while he folds your legs up against your chest — “wait, sir, not yet, i— haaah!”

your mind blanks, your vision shoots white as his cock bullies its way into your pussy, still sensitive from him eating you out before and a cry erupts out from your chest. above you, suguru’s expression contorts and he groans loudly as he sinks deeper into your cunt. your gummy walls clench down on him as if to keep him out, squeezing him so tightly that his knees nearly give out underneath him. “aaaahh, fuck, (y/n), your pussy feels so fucking good.”

he’s too impatient to give you time to adjust, you just feel so good clamping down on him the way you do and he pounds you, fucking into you relentlessly while you writhe and cry beneath him. “fuck!! sir—!! s-slow down— ahh! haah! ‘m still— still sensitive— ngaahh!”

“sorry, princess.” he huffs, folding your legs further down into your chest and pivoting his pelvis to reach inside you deeper, deeper until he pounds your cervix and you jolt as if you’d been shocked. you have to grab the edge of the desk to keep yourself from sliding from underneath him as he relentlessly fucks into you. “your pussy jus’ feels too good, fuck. ‘s like this pretty cunt was made jus’ for my cock.”

how perfect you look folded underneath him like this, breasts bouncing and tears pooling from your eyes as your body trembles and shakes from the overstimulation. how your hair messily flails underneath you, your clothes all bunched up and your stockings shredded and your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you senselessly wail, fuck, you look so damn hot. “i know you can take it princess,” he coons, stilling his hips as he pushes all the way inside you, pinning you down when you try to squirm. “c’mon, pretty girl…” slowly, he pulls out and slams back into you — once, twice, over and over, each time your walls tightening and squeezing ravenously. “you got this. you’re doing so good for me, soooo so good. you like how my cock feels inside baby? does it feel good fucking up your pretty little pussy?”

“yes…!” with teary eyes, you look up at him, your response short of senseless and incomprehensible as you choke out a sob through your pleasure. “yes, yes, yes, yes, sir, feels so fucking good!”

“shhh, shhh, i know baby,” suguru coos down at you, grinding slow, sweet circles against your core before picking up his pace. the sudden change catches you unprepared and you shout, hands flailing to his biceps and clawing into his skin as he caged your body beneath him. “you’ve been so good for me already, aah, can you gimme one more? cum one more time for me pretty baby, jus’ one more for me.”

as if at his command, you feel that familiar tension take hold of your body as he drills into your cunt, so sudden and without warning as it crashes over you. you squeal, babbling his name over and over as your pussy creams all over his cock, your gasps drawing little air as your orgasm tears through you and leaving you breathless.

“thaaaaat’s it, shit. just like that.” he praises you through stuttering breaths, cooing at you sweetly as you come dkw. from your high. you’re positively fucked out of your mind with tears falling freely from your eyes and drool smearing your cheeks, snd the sight of you like this beneath him, the feeling of your pussy milking around his cock, it’s enough to send him over the edge.

“fuck…!”

his body twitches as his cum spurts inside your pussy, warm and thick and so, so much of it comes out, painting your insides white. your chests heaving in unison, suguru finally collapses on top of your chest, and he’s just every bit of a mess as you are. both of you are absolutely spent of every drop, endorphins coursing through your veins as the adrenaline exists your systems. your eyes seek out his to find him already staring at you with a cheeky grin, your own face flushing with embarrassment while he presses butterfly kisses against your stomach.

“d-did, um…” it’s hard to get the words out, your lungs still very much fighting for air, but you cheekily grin at the man, your boss, kneeling between your legs, and dare to allow your hands to run through his disheveled hair. “was i… able to help?”

suguru weakly chuckles, and your heart flutters a bit at the sight of crinkles forming on his nose. “you did, (y/n).” smiling, he rises to his feet and leans down to kiss you, pressing a hand down on your tummy and pushing down. he feels you writhing beneath his palm as his cum leaks out of you. “trus’ me, ‘s just what i needed.”

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mambalae-s · 11 months

Text

everstill ━ geto suguru x reader

wc: 5.3k

cw: angst; self-loathing; description of a panic attack; reader is described as a chubby black woman; unprotected sex; creampies; bathtub sex; please let me know if i'm missing anything here!

notes from author: do NOT interact with this post if you are below the age of 18 ━ i will block you.

you hate the woman you see in the mirror. with every ounce of your heart, you despise her.

your brown eyes of earth and deep autumn, they pick your body apart along cruel tears and whispers so dark that you wish they’d stay hidden, that they’d disappear into a dark night, for them to never return. yet, during your eleventh hours, they do — they haunt you like ancient demons that would carve sigils beneath your skin, so that they may be summoned time and time again when your eyes meet your reflection. tonight, you mourn, feels as if it will be no different.

before you, stands a girl who pretends to be a woman. broken, so terribly and utterly broken this girl, with her dark skin littered with eons of fractures just like a vase waiting to fall apart. her imperfect body lays bare between your brown eyes, and even your tears aren’t enough to shield you from the unsightly mars you find, try as they may. your vision turns hazed and your eyes sting terribly, but still you see the weight that sits on your bones, and you believe it unsightly. you believe your belly too big and your face too round; you hate the way your breasts hang lower than they used to, how your hips crease and bend like the sides of a violin. the stretch marks that litter your brown skin, they remind you of lines carved carelessly by a dull knife and you find them hideous, where your voice disappears between your lips beneath poisoned sobs and choked back cries.

yet, oh ever-yet still, could this not be enough to hurt you? it is — it’s already more than enough, yet your cross sits heavily on your shoulders, and your crown of thorns are yet another labyrinth of invisible scars marred into your temple. there’s a pain unseen that runs beneath veins shredded to red ribbons, so beautiful in their tragedy as they pour your heart through bleeding cuts. visceral carnage told through two decades of betrayal from the people closest to you, whose tongues hid sharpened blades dipped in a purple venom, their damages still felt in their absence, a gaping chasm that you’ve placed between you and your past. it’s vast and merciless, and you’d vowed never to speak their names evermore, nevermore, and yet still, they haunt you in the remnants of their memories like childhood ghosts, and with each cruel apparition comes a clarity you wish so desperately that you’d stay oblivious to — those people of your flesh and blood, they never did care for you. and even now, they never will.

you only pray, with your bleeding heart cupped in hands painted red, that you and your broken pieces would be enough for one man alone.

there’s a sound of a door that opens in the deafening quiet, the wooden structure so gentle as it slides shut, yet it jars you so and your breath locks inside your throat. fear is familiar, yet comes to you as a stranger, it’s face so foreign and the touch of its cold fingers out of place where you’re hidden away in sanctuary. you shouldn’t feel fear when you know where you are — you’re home, and you wait between the comfort of four flaming wands for your darling to return. you know it’s only him coming back to you, but you’re so vulnerable and you’ve done everything to tear yourself apart in his absence that you panic and your skin crawls with the taste of bile in the back of your throat. you can’t let him see you like this, not when the cracks in your frame have deepened to the bone and rendered you asunder — he shouldn’t know of these demons that torture you on malevolent hymns, you pray he never will. you know what you must do — you know the door to this vast, coffee painted bathroom only stands so many steps away from you, but it seems so far all the same and the distance is daunting and you’re too terrified to move. your lungs forget the taste of oxygen and become intoxicated on the poisonous lack thereof, your heart abandons you and runs wild through a plain of darkness and every nerve tangles around your spine like a snake whose fangs bury themselves deep inside your jugular. here you stand, frozen, naked; afraid and bare just as the day you were born, and it’s in this state — a gentle knock raps against the bathroom door, one, two beats that don’t dare to catch pace with your racing heart as he calls your name — that suguru finds you.

the shoji door slides open despite the cries of your heart for it to stay closed, and the thin bamboo frame exposes you mercilessly to the man who stands behind it. you take in the picture of him in front of you; watch his eyes first melt and a smile paint his lips, before his familiar visage turns to one of worry as he looks at you, truly looks at you and sees you, just as he’s always done. he sees your puffy eyes, stricken red by tears as salty as the dead sea; your lips which quiver with the frigidness of a harsh winter’s 4 am; your chest that shutters up and down, up and down, desperate for the mercy of air and, gods, you must look so pitiful, and you hate yourself for letting him see you this way.

“angel, what’s the matter?” suguru sounds as breathless as you feel and you can’t understand why, but you’re so desperate in this moment to let everything go. you’re so close to falling apart as his hurried steps close the distance and you want to reach out to him, to hold him and reassure him that you’re fine, ‘i’m fine,’ but the words are too heavy and your cross weighs down on your back like a vice. and beneath yellow fluorescence that shines like a cruel sun, you crumble as soon as his arms wrap around your naked body.

“oh, angel… it’s okay.” suguru holds you, hushes you as your body wrecks itself apart on childish cries, your voice broken on abandon as you sob into his chest. “shh, shhh… i’m here, (y/n)… i’m here. i’m right here…”

“m’— m’so sorry, suguru…!” your hands find purchase in the dark fabric he wears, holding so tightly as you apologize and beg for forgiveness. “m’so— sorry..! m’so sorryyy…!” cracks bend the pitch of your voice and turns you into the wounded little girl who’d only ever known how to cry. “you s-shouldn’t… y-you shouldn’t see m-me like this… m’ so sorry, suguru, m’sorry…!”

suguru’s arms wrap around you tightly as he pulls your face against his chest, his chin resting atop puffy curls and his palms spread against the flat of your back. “no, no, baby, no… you don’t need to apologize to me… you’re doing nothing wrong, it’s okay.”

you feel your snot and tears staining his shirt, the feeling so ugly to you that your body feels repulsed and you want to pull away lest you dirty him any further, and it’s as he senses your thoughts and he tightens his hold around you. each gentle hush pushes gently through every sob that racks your lungs as he gently cups the back of your head and pulls you closer into his chest, as if to tell you that he couldn’t care any less about his clothes being dampened by your tears. “there, baby girl, there,” he whispers against your hair, soft, patient, and loving. “take a deep breath for me, hm? in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

biting your lip in a weak attempt to control your sobs, you do as he says, and suguru repeats the action in sync with you as his heartbeat thuds against your ears, a gentle drumming noise that grounds you against the feeling of him being here, hands pressed against your skin, lips resting atop your head. “that’s it… just like that, angel. you’re doing good.” he praises you on a quiet whisper. “one more time, okay?”

just as he asks of you, you breathe once more, imploring your traitorous lungs to do as he desires, because he desires. for him, you let him show you how to breathe, and his scent washes over you on nodes of petrichor and rain washed mountains. you breathe, and abandon all else that isn’t him, clinging to him like a lifeline, for he keeps your head above violent waves and saves you, just as he always does.

“that’s it, (y/n)… thank you.” the hand that rests on your back comes to your chin, he tilts your face upwards so that you’ll look at him and gods, the sight of those brown eyes causes your head to spin. somehow, they’re wet and his dark lashes are lined with beautiful tears, and he looks at you so tenderly, so full of care, with affection in the place where you’d expected to see disdain. “you did so good for me.” he praises you with a soft kiss to your forehead, his cool breath ghosting against your skin. “so, so good. such a good girl for me.”

you sniffle and wrap your hands around his back, feeling the need to hide yourself from him so that those perceptive eyes won’t peer down at you any longer. you feel as if you should cover yourself lest he look at your broken form with such amour, because how can something so damaged ever dare to take so selfishly? “m sorry, suguru…”

yet again, you apologize, because you’re not sure what else you can do. shame is a bitter medicine on your tongue that you force down with a grimace, your throat locks around it and your body wants to refuse it. you’re too scared to meet his eyes and you worry that, this time — this time for sure, you’ll se disgust, hatred, the very same that looks back at you in your reflection. how could someone like you, after all, so fragmented and imperfect and so horribly ruined, ever meet those eyes and accept with your heart that he looks at you and loves you despite?

and yet again — time and time again, and again, and again — he does. his touch is compassionate against your right cheek when he guides your face upwards, and his lips, they’re merciful. merciful, and loving, and tender and all when he presses them to your puffed eyelids. his thumb, even the soft touch of it alone lights your skin along glowing embers as he uses it to caress your skin and he breathes — exhale, inhale — and you mimic him in the action, so, so desperate to taste his air.

“(y/n),” a whisper of your name that echoes against coffee painted walls, it sinks into your heart and holds it close. “angel, you don’t need to apologize to me.” his kisses, they’re eons of a love you’ve only ever dreamed of having, never enough, never enough are you to ever hope of being worthy, never daring of wanting, of having. “i’m here for you.” and his lips, they linger by your eyelids, where the salt of your tears leak like a faucet. “i’m here, and i always will be, okay? i’ll always be here. trust me, okay?”

ah, and there it is. that plea, so soft it would vanish had he spoken any quieter, and yet so resolute, as it his words were the creation of the universe itself. your brown eyes water and the tears run freely, collecting atop his palm where he kindly wipes them away. you can’t trust your voice, so you grasp on to his wrist and lean further into his touch, wishing, evermore praying that you’d never depart from it and you nod. you hope and beg to the gods that would listen, that your heart could perhaps sing her broken songs loud enough for him to hear, that her voice could carry through childlike sobs and that he’d understand. he does, he always does, and he smiles down at you and takes your lips with his in a show of devotion and worship that overpowers your every sense and paints pictures of a god and his devoted follower. and that god, you find through suguru’s lips, you find that she’s you. that she looks like you through his eyes, eternal and heavenly, with her hand stretched down from the heavens, and your devotee, him. a man that holds on to your viscage with so much reverence and adoration, touching you as if just the feel of you could grant him eternal life. he revers you with his kisses, with the touch or warm fingers that leave their mark in your bloodstream, where they dance between your veins and fill you up anew. he kisses you and devours each sweet plea of his name, each fragile cry, and he paints them across his skin on amour eterno.

“lemme take care of you tonight, angel.” geto’s lips are searing across yours, where the taste of your tears sit heavy on his tongue and you remind yourself to swallow lest your heart leaps into your throat. carefully, he guides you backwards, and he’s smiling at you, so lovingly, so tenderly — just as the touch of his hands and each kiss that flutters across your cheek. soon, the back of your legs hit the cold edges of the large bathtub, and you fear for a moment — a silly, fleeting moment, that you’d fall and you yelp, grasping on to his biceps and clinging for dear life, but suguru, he holds you firm, never wavering his grip around your hip and chuckling softly when you bump into his chest.

“i’ve got you angel,” he lays another kiss between your brow before he gently pushes you down, so that you now sit on the very edge of the bathtub. “here, lemme run you a nice warm bath, okay? just sit tight and wait for me right here — i’ll start gathering everything and i’ll make it just the way you like it.”

“suguru,” before you can stop yourself, your hand flies to grab hold of his wrist, stopping him before he can get too far. your eyes, they’re pleading up at him, and again, shame dances in your gut like terrible vise. “you don’t have to…” your head shakes, and your nails dig into his skin without you taking account of your actions, only yet feeling the desperation that wraps around your voice. “i don’t wanna… don’t wanna cause trouble for you after a long day.”

there’s a soft, soft exhale that falls from suguru’s lips, yet within that breath, you hear no malice or frustration, no hint of annoyance that you’d convinced yourself he must’ve been feeling. instead, he leans down, his weight balanced on his heels and he takes your hands in his, where his thumbs trace circles across your knuckles and his touch, evermore warm. his eyes, they resemble the deepest hour of midnight, so dark and enchanting and you, you’re enraptured beneath them, your fragile heart singing his praises and glory be.

“i want to.” he utters, and in those words are a promise untold. “it’s no trouble at all. trust me, hm?” endearingly, his head tilts to the side, little wisps of black hair slipping across his forehead as he leans forward and presses his face into the bare skin of your chest. your arms wrap around his shoulders, and your face buries atop his head where his black hair tickles your nose, and you sigh, relenting.

“okay…”

he hums softly before squeezing you tighter, for a second and then more, and he presses a soft kiss between the valley of your breasts as he pulls away and sets to work. he lets the bathtub fill with warm water, a beautiful golden bathbomb from your favourite store scattering glitters and bubbling up beneath the clear water. you watch him set alight the honey oatmilk and almond scented candle he knows you love the most, and sprinkles a few droplets of lavender and grapeseed oil into the bath before shutting the water off. he’s set everything up just the way you love, ever so considerate, ever so caring, and it warms your heart and brings new tears to your eyes because you can’t understand — how could he love you so?

“is the water okay?”

you lean into the hand pressed against your cheek, falling into the warmth he radiates between the orange candlelight and smile at him, humming. “mhm… will you join me?”

“of course my love.” he whispers as he presses a kiss against your temple. “here, lemme get undressed, why don’t you go ahead and get in?”

you do as he says, sliding your legs over the white porcelain to stick your feet into the bubbly water. it’s warm, and the glitter sticks to your brown skin like a thousand beautiful shards of gold, they paint themselves over your visage in the light of fluttering kaleidoscopes. taking a deep breath, you slide in, and let yourself be encompassed by the love you’ve been presented in act of service. and soon enough, suguru joins you too, completely bare and his hair tied up as he slides in behind you, where his hands pull you snug between his legs and against his chest.

“thank you, suguru…” you sigh as your head lulls back and falls into the crook of his neck. his hands, so firm, yet careful, rub circles into your hips, molding away at each tense muscle and you, helplessly, melt. “i’m sorry i’m making you take care of me like this… you must’ve had such a long day.”

behind you, suguru presses another kiss beneath your hairline, where his lips linger with his breath and his arms squeeze you tighter against him. “it’s no trouble, my love.” he reassures you softly, as your body softens and turns to putty within the sanctuary of his embrace. “you’re going through a hard time, i don’t want you to ever apologize for that.”

“but…” your words quiver on something you don’t understand, its weight on your throat like a noose that stops your breath. you’re scared to face the man behind you, yet the comfort his arms is so profound that you consider, maybe, he wouldn’t turn you away. and your eyes — those beautiful, brown eyes of gaia, earthly mother — they look up at suguru, your neck angled up, and you find glory in his smile. “i feel like i’m a burden… i don’t…” oh god, those eyes, they overwhelm and consume you just like the night sky, where within them your reflection shines back at you like the milky way — beautiful and enchanting, but god, how unworthy you feel. “i don’t have any right to make you worry for me…”

“oh, angel…” the water makes noise as suguru lifts his hand and his body shifts so that he can turn you to the side, wanting to look at you better, for you to look at him. his hand finds home on top of your cheek where his thumb caresses your skin, tracing little hearts as they trail down to your quivering lips. wistfully, he sighs, and there’s an aching there in his voice when he whispers,

“if only you could see yourself the same way that i see you. if you could see that you’re so worthy of love, so, so worthy and deserving, you’d never think of yourself as a burden. (y/n), i love you — even through these hard days and painful nights, i’ll never leave your side. the space you hold here in my heart,” with his other hand, he reaches up and pulls your palm flat against his chest, and there’s a gentle bum, bum, bum that sings to you amorous melodies. “you have every right to hold and stay here… never for a second doubt that, okay? you’re not a burden… loving you could never be a burden.”

when he kisses you, you break all over again.

between his lips, you taste the poems of old greece, songs written for persephone and aphrodite, legends of goddesses revered and worshipped. your world spins on the winters of agape as your mouth molds against his and your hands, they desperately wrap around his shoulders and knot into his hair, where your fingers tangle and pull apart his bun so that black tresses fall and tickle your skin. oh, how wonderfully your world spins — and how precious this kiss, the feeling of his body burning you on ravishing fires that you fear you’ll turn to nothing but ashes, ashes, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

“suguru…” breathlessly, you whimper his name like a prayer for salvation, your skin suddenly hot inside the cooling bath. your very bones ache for him, and yet, your feeble soul tells you you’re unworthy, unworthy. that you don’t deserve his love.

but suguru, he proves to you that you are more than worthy.

without ever parting your lips, he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his lap, fingers spread across your back before settling into the flesh of your hips. beneath his touch, you become all too aware of your imperfections, of the fat beneath your skin and the stretch marks raised like lines of a map. but before your heart withers, suguru holds you and pulls you back into him before you can fall too deep.

“you can’t begin to imagine,” his voice, so soft, so sweet, it rings in husks against the shell your ear where he nibbles and bites, the sensation of his tongue sending shockwaves down your spine and you grip him tighter, moaning. “how much i absolutely adore you. every part of you.” his teeth suckle and bite your neck, his tongue draws circles and his lips suck fresh bruises along every inch of you he can reach. “how i worship you… how i love you.”

his fingers dig into your flesh as he rocks his hips against you; squeezing, feeling, positively devouring. “every part of you. every inch of you…” he reaches one hand for your breast, swollen and matured with time, no longer perky, but so full and round. he moulds them in the palm of his hands, his fingers aptly pinching your engorged nipples and twisting so that you squeal and throw your head back on a cry of his name. “you’re a work of art… the height of renaissance — the very image of perfection.”

his words are astoundingly clear amidst the fog inside your mind. they enrapture you, stealing your breath on the very taste of eros, and it teaches you hunger beyond hunger, the heat between your legs pouring through every vein as his erection rubs between your plush thighs. perfection, he called you — the word a concept so far placed from you that you thought he might’ve been delusional. but those thoughts don’t dare stay with you for long before suguru pulls you back down to earth.

leaning forward, his hands guide you to by your soft and squishy hips to hover above his waist, legs spread wide and your eyes looking down at him. “fuck, (y/n), if only you could see yourself the way i see you…” your nails dig into the flesh of his back as he swipes his tongue over your brown nipples, sucking until the bud would be drowned in his spit and your nerves choking on pleasure. your knees nearly buckling out from beneath you, you whimper, breaths heavy and laboured, all as his lips continue to roll your nipple between them, his cheeks hollowing to take in more of you until your areola disappears into his warm mouth. “if only you could feel the love you give to me each and every day, you’d never think of yourself the way you do…”

the way he touches you makes your head spin, his lips take your soul apart and makes you forget up from down and the colours around you blur on senseless desire, adoration. his tongue, truly, it worships your brown skin, his fingers poking between your thighs until they find where you need him the most. wetness manifests in a slickness that differs from the waters surrounding you as he spreads your pussylips apart, only so lightly touching that it hurts on what you can only call wanton desperation, needing him to be inside you, to be close to you. for him to hold you and love you until you couldn’t take anymore.

“suguru…” you plead breathlessly as your hips rut and shift, bucking against his digits sliding over you. “please…! please… can’t take anymore, just hold me… please hold me…”

here you are before him, weak and vulnerable. within your watery eyes, suguru finds in them his name, his visage painted with the word of ‘surrender’ — and you surrender to him. everything that you ever were, and all that you are now, he sees the way you offer it all in the name of love, pleading, hoping that it’ll be enough. yet, oh, don’t you know? to him, who would take saturn from the sky and place him between your hands, you’re so much more than enough; instead, you’re everything — everything and more, ever yet, ever still.

leaning back, suguru guides you with his palm against his face, your body chasing the warmth of his as the waters turn cold. he kisses you, and the feeling, it’s as if it would last forever. invocations of psalms taste like your religion founded on love and agape, as old an eternal and never-ending as the stars across the universe. your hunger, he satiates it, and the pain of endless time, he consumes it and so carefully takes it apart until all that’s left is you and him, him and you, here and now. and finally, finally, finally — he lets you release those cries and amourous solicitations of his name as he enters you slowly.

“su— ” your legs clench around his waist and you sob, clinging on to him for dear life as your body collapses into his lap. “suguru…!” the feeling of his cock spreading you apart tastes like a drug that courses through your bloodstream, throbbing and taking you to the very depths of eternity. his skin burns so hot against you, palms splayed across your back to pull you in closer, closer and yet never enough, where his very soul tries to break through the barriers of flesh all to embrace your spirit. his lips trail wet kisses along your cheek to follow each glistening teardrop, anguish that flourishes into proclamations of warmth and ever growing fondness that form crystalline diamonds and pour themselves all across his tongue. his hips roll slowly, and he savours every ounce of you that you give, even the parts of you that you’ve tried to hide. every demon that’s haunted you, every ghost of pain and suffering and cruelty, he caresses them with his fingers and shows them love, beseeching and pleading that they’d let you see the extents he would go for you, even to the pits of hell if need be. for you, suguru would tear the world asunder and set it alight, so that you could paint this blank canvas with the warm and beautiful colours of your smile.

“i love you, (y/n)…” he vows as a man bent at the knee, you, his empress, a divine ruler who he could only dare to dream after. and yet, ever yet — here you are before him. so close, so intimate do your bodies entangle that he disregards all fear of blasphemy and unrighteousness as he tangles his hands at the nape of your neck and kisses you hungrily. his breaths trail the dark shadows whispered on the hateful words you’d spoken against yourself and rewrites their very chemistry, the bitter taste of “i’m not worthy,” ; “i’m not good enough,” ; “i’m a burden,” ; “i’m broken,” — they become the sweetness of summer’s nectarine, and become tender vows that he endeavours to sing to you, in this life time, in the next, and for all the ones that come hereafter.

“i love you… i’ll always love you. even during the days when you can’t love yourself. i’ll never stop loving you… i always will.”

the sound of his voice so close to your ear, it’s maddening, intoxicating, and yet it grounds you to him, urging you to entangle him and pull him in deeper as your walls wrap around him, craven and crying out each syllable of his name as you sink down on him over and over. “i love you too, suguru,” you whisper, breathless, truthful, and just like him, your declaration reaches heaven on the hymns that you’d always sing. “i love you, i love you… haah! i love you, suguru i love you…”

he presses his forehead and moans, gasping at the sensation of warmth that spills out of you on his cock. deep inside you, he wants to stay forever, determined to make his home between your legs, for his heart to rest with yours and yours alone. until he could no longer tell where you end and where he begins, yearning to become one with you in every sense of the word. and god, he feels himself reaching his limit as he burrows deep inside you, ever so greedy for that sweet release only you could give him. “fuck, (y/n)… i’m close, i’m so close…”

“me too…” you exhale heavily, you own climax building slow, yet threatening to tip you into oblivion all the same. you grind against him until his tip hits your deepest point, pressing against your cervix and threatening to go even further still. “‘m almost there suguru, i promise… don’t stop yet, ‘m gonna be there with you, ‘m almost there… please…”

your words pour over him like molten sugar and suguru feels his hunger roll over him like a gentle tide, tempting him to take you over and over until time becomes nothing but a myth. until he’d become your past, present and future, and until his name would reach the divine as a declaration for the woman after his heart.

he doesn’t release his hold on you as he shifts to his knees, his chest only parts from you for a moment (but god, how empty it feels for that short moment) as he pushes your back against the far corner of the bath, water splashing around your bodies as he leans over you and presses his lips against yours. he angles his hips and pushes into you over and over, making sweet love to you and taking every sugary cry of his name from right out of your mouth. and those beautiful, lonely stars in the sky, they’d forever sing the story of your bodies uniting as finally, you fall apart together, of the euphoria that spread through your veins and across your skin like magnificent galaxies. he cums inside of you, filling your quivering hole to the very brim as your own release milks him for everything he has, breathless beneath him and devouring every gasp of your name that touches your swollen lips.

the bathroom walls blur, the feeling of the water around him vanishes, and in the end, all that’s left is you. his beautiful heart, famished and weary, and your loving eyes that behold him as if he were your deity. a smile spreads across his lips, and though his body is worn, his soul delights in your visage, tasting elation like a sweet wine as he embraces you, gentle and mindful, for how precious you are that he holds you with utter care and tenderness.

“i love you, (y/n)” he whispers against your neck, where the warmth of your heart reaches him in each pulse he tastes. he doesn’t see it, but he feels you smiling, and melts within your hold as you wrap your arms around his back.

“i love you, suguru… thank you… thank you for loving me.”

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