#geto suguru fanfiction
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❝ 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 ❞
❝ PROF. GETO'S CLASS IS SO HARD, BUT HE'S SO HOT!! ❞
✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part one of the prof geto series)
✧ summary: you were a 4.0, straight A student, until professor geto's class, the same far too hot ethics professor fawned over by faculty and students alike. you didn't understand what was so special about him...until you start having dreams about him.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, a lot of smut (mostly fantasy), depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student in my mind, but age is vague, masturbation (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), getting off to his voice in recorded lectures, arousal from reading his writing, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @/jatinsohanvi, google scholar graphic by platonic loml @laneysmusings
✧ wc: 10,149 (i have a problem) | part two
“You’re late,”
Your first impression of Professor Suguru Geto’s class was that you could never be late again, unless you would like to be chided in front of all your peers for your tardiness.
Your first impression of Professor Suguru Geto himself was that he was truly the most breathtaking man you’d ever laid your eyes on. His inky black locks tied into a neat bun, his deep royal purple vest buttoned over a crisp white button up with pressed gray slacks, his pretty lips pressed in a small frown, as his dark gaze pierced through you. And you don’t know what stirs in your chest — a fleeting moment that is tucked away under a bite of your bottom lip and burning cheeks.
And now you knew why when you had walked into class, the amount of unfamiliar faces in this course had far outnumbered the ones in your usual course load — the same reason why this man undoubtedly had three chili peppers next to his professor rating on some website out there.
And now you were faced with him staring you down as you stumbled down the stairs of the all too full lecture hall.
As you muttered apologies, and took your seat far too close to the front of the class, smack dab in the very front of the very same professor whose eyes still were concentrated on you, before sliding back to the class at large.
“Now, where were we?” he says, continuing the lecture.
Ethics was not your major — you were a philosophy grad student, and although the two went hand in hand — no, they were not the same thing. Ethics are the moral principles — like rules to follow to live a moral life — people can follow, while philosophy is the study of knowledge, reality, and existence. And this class encompassed both — an ethics and moral philosophy class. Your eyes slid around the room — and compared to all the random majors stuffed into this classroom, you had no doubt you’d do well. Your eyes met Professor Geto’s — maybe one slight doubt.
And when you get your first essay back, you eagerly flip to the last page of the paper, wondering what accolades and compliments you��d receive this time. Your eyes find the grade, and your stomach drops, a gaping maw that consumes you from the inside out.
You got a B.
A B+ — an 88 on your paper in this course, and you stared at the grade on the very last page of the paper you had collected from his desk — Professor Geto had insisted everyone submit their papers both physically and electronically — his scrawl in red pen littered each page of what you thought was a thoughtful and even clever paper on the existence free will and the ethical and moral dilemmas that surround it. And he had given it an 88.
You had a 4.0 point average — you had gotten the highest scores in some of the most difficult courses required by your major, and now you were going to be derailed by a class you took on a whim? That’s not happening. No, you were going to get him to change your grade. You were seeing as red as the ink that tore your paper to shreds.
“Come in,” your knuckles had rapped against Professor Geto’s door, your heart in your throat, as you heard his reply, entering his office. His office was as pretentious as he was. A much larger office than you had seen before (poor Professor Ijichi had a shoebox of an office), while Professor Geto’s was three times the size, outfitted with large, beautiful windows, distinct bookshelves, and even a lovely deep mahogany colored couch with decorative cushions. And you knew why that was the case — Professor Geto was an expert in his field, revered, even at his relatively young age. And the university had coveted him, and managed to lure him to work behind these ivy covered walls. While other professors who have been here longer are stuck with offices that don’t begin to compare.
Academia was truly hell.
And yet, Professor Geto seemed to rule over it with an iron fist. Even now, you found your professor looking as annoyingly perfect as ever — his elbow resting against his desk, pen in his other hand, as he flipped through more papers on his desk, his hair in a messy bun, a few black strands falling across his furrowed brow, his pretty lips pursed in concentration, and his dark gaze flicks up from his work to you, and his lips curl, your name leaving his lips, “good to see you, please sit,”
You had planned to attend these office hours in victory, to apologize for your misstep in the first class, and let your professor praise your paper to no end — but instead you were going to see why your paper was graded so harshly.
Your speech was ready, you were going to lay it out, you had the perfect explanation and the excellent reasoning “Professor Geto—”
“I know why you’re here,” he cuts you off, lips forming in an utterly condescending smile, “you want to discuss your paper, correct?”
“I am, I wanted to—”
He sits forward in his chair, setting down his pen, “I’m going to save us some time by explaining my comments on your paper, do you have it?” and you close your mouth, pulling the paper out of your folder and handing it to him, “Your paper was one of the best in the class — it was thought provoking, grounded in research, persuasive, even made me consider some points I hadn’t before—”
You blink, his praise catching you off guard, your thoughts twisting in on themselves, “Then why did you give me B?”
“You didn’t allow me to finish,” he sighs, as he flips through your paper, looking up to meet your gaze, “your paper was excellent when it came to philosophical concepts, but your ethical conclusions on the other hand, could use some work,”
You gaped at him, “What did I possibly—”
“To put it simply, you were trying to use your knowledge of philosophy to cover up your lack of knowledge in the field of ethics,”
“I wasn’t—”
“And that’s okay, because that means I have something to teach you don’t I? That’s why you’re in this course, to learn,” he gives a tight lipped smile, tilting his head. Oh you’d like to learn a lot more from him — like the ethical dilemma of wanting to murder your professor, “and I’m here to teach — and this paper is a teaching moment — and from your expression, I assume you didn’t read the comments I left in detail,”
And your cheeks burn, as your eyes fall away from him, “Not fully in detail,” you still swallow your shame, and meet his gaze, “I don’t mean to be a bother, Professor, but how can my paper still receive a B — I’ve never received that low of a score on any single paper—”
“There’s a first time for everything,” and you have to bite back your retort, “yeah first time having an annoying prick for a professor,” and he rises from his desk to hand you back your paper, “the bottom line is, I know you’re capable of better, this class isn’t going to be easy — I’m not going to hand you accolades for no reason. You have to earn them — if you aren’t up for the challenge, you can drop the class.”
The option was there — you could simply drop the course, rid yourself of Professor Geto and his ridiculous criticism forever. You could take a class with one of the many professors who delighted in your papers (even the ones you’d written at 3 AM and submitted not proofread), and go on with your life and preserve your 4.0 GPA with ease.
But then you looked at him again. He was unfairly hot, even when he was fucking putting you down, he stood in front of you, offering your paper, his fingers long and thick brushing yours by mistake as you took back your paper, a watch on his wrist gleamed in the low light of his office. You glanced around his office, saw the awards on his walls, pictures of him giving lectures or receiving honors, and the books that lined his shelves weren’t dissimilar to your own academic shelf at home. And your eyes fell back to his, as he stared at you curiously, lips pursed, as your paper slightly crumples in your fist.
“Next paper is due in two weeks?” and he pauses, before his lips curl in that same grin.
“Yes it is,” and a smile graces your lips, lightning quick.
Like hell you were going to let him win. You were going to get him to praise your papers (and maybe that wouldn’t be the only thing he praised) — if it was the last thing you do. You’d get an A in his class, hell, you’d get him to beg you to be his teaching assistant (he’d look very nice on his knees for you, wouldn’t he?).
You rise from your seat, and grab your bag, “I’ll see you at your next office hours then, to discuss my paper topic,” and he watches you leave, his eyes piercing into your back as you do.
“See you soon.”
Oh, he would.
“Right on time,” Professor Geto barely looks up now when you knock on his door, his door now always ajar for office hours.
Now you had made a habit of showing up for his office hours, you’d bring your paper topic all picked out, along with your handpicked sources you had chosen for your paper, all typed up in a neat bibliography. And he’d kindly rip it apart with that same damn smile on his lips. It had been a few weeks, a few papers later — and you finally had worked your grade up to an A-, not quite an A+, but you’d get there. You had to.
Because it wasn’t just about your GPA now — you were going to get Professor Geto to praise you — through any means necessary. The man was stubborn, even when you’d come back with an improved draft, he’d only hand it back to you with a smile barely tugging at the corner of his lips, with no compliment to be had — only small check marks scribbled in the margins in your papers, with the occasional “good” written next to it.
“Well, we all know what happens when I’m late,” he laughs, a noise that makes the ice dagger clutched behind your back ever so slightly melt, “I made you laugh, extra credit?”
And he rolls his eyes, and you notice that his dark eyes are hidden behind glasses today — and god, why does it only make him even more gorgeous? He’s already brilliant, it’s unfair for him to look as if he was sculpted by the gods as well, “It takes a lot more than a chuckle to earn extra credit,” and you can’t help but bite your lip.
No, no, he’s the worst. It didn’t matter he was the epitome of every academic’s wet dream, you were above that. You had a goal.
“So, can we discuss my next paper?” you hand him your bibliography, and he takes it, delicate fingers flipping through, your mind notes the absence of a ring on either hand, before brushing the thought aside.
“You’re writing on the morality of good or bad actions,” he hums, as he looks over the sources you had chosen, “Scanlon, good — have you read—”
“‘What We Owe to Each Other?’ Only about a million times — well more like six,” and he nods appreciatively, “of course you’ve read it,”
“I didn’t just read it, I wrote a paper on it, similar to yours, actually,” and your eyes flick up to meet his, he’s leaning forward in his chair, red pen in hand, as he scribbles notes in the margins, as well as on the back of your bibliography, “of course I don’t have your penchant for rambling,”
You pout, “I don’t ramble — I like to make my point—”
“Many times, and the same one,” and your mouth opens, only to find a wry smirk on his lips, “I’m teasing, another one of my very tedious qualities, and how you stand it during class astonishes me,”
You cross your arms, unable to meet his eyes, as you choose to stare at your bibliography instead, “You’re not completely tedious, more like irritating,” and he huffs a chuckle.
You had to admit, begrudgingly, Professor Geto was a…good teacher. And you had your fair share of awful teachers — many of them were brilliant, accomplished people in their fields, but didn’t know how to translate and convey that in their lectures to students who simply knew less than them. But Geto…he knew how to break down complex concepts and theories of moral philosophy and ethics to a science, he knows how to make students understand these complicated topics that you had seen other professors fail to, and he does it while being an intellectual dreamboat to most of his students — the ones that swarm his desk after class, still there even as you slowly make your way out of the lecture hall.
“A rare compliment from you,” he raises an eyebrow, “I’m touched,”
“You’re one to talk,” you furrow your brow, and a smile pulls at his lips.
“Didn’t know you wanted my approval,” he tilts his head, leaning forward to lean on his elbow on the desk, “well, you have improved remarkably in the class so far, and if you keep going like this, I may have no choice but to praise you,”
“You will,”
“Someone is very sure of themselves,” a pause and then he adds with a quirk of his lips, “as you should be,” and he’s sliding your bibliography across the table again, and passes it back, “read the sources I recommended, and see about adding them to your paper — you may have some overlap in the other papers you chose so use your discretion on which ones you use,”
“So don’t repeat myself?” You raise an eyebrow, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his legs.
“You learn fast.”
And you do — returning to your apartment to work on your paper, as you flip through his notes — as much as you hate to admit it, his notes and criticism did help — annoyingly so. He was far more detailed and perceptive than any other professor you had. Most had let you skate by without a second thought, and you wrote papers like you deleted your internet history after a scandalous romp through elicit websites — tools, clear history — and then onto the next paper or exam. But Professor Geto forced you to face your shortcomings, face the things that you didn’t like to give a second glance to, lest your rejection sensitive self feel the agony of having to deal with criticism.
Each time you did it, you got a little better, and he had a little less to say — time and time again.
You leaned back on your bed, scrolling through the papers he recommended, but so what? So what if he was a good teacher? Doesn’t mean he has to be as infuriating as he is — he knew exactly what to do to get under your skin, and he didn’t prod at it, he scratched it.
And you found yourself typing his name (“suguru geto”) and T.M. Scanlon’s name into the search bar of your university’s library collection, and his paper pops up right on top.
You stare at the paper for a good minute, before you click on it — and you start reading. And reading. And reading — and fuck—
It was good. It was more than that — it gave you so much insight on this topic, it made you rediscover T.M. Scanlon’s work in a new light — and you bite your lip. And it wasn’t just the research — the way it organized, the way it was presented, the way it was written — it was eloquent, but it wasn’t unreadable or incomprehensible. It was…really good.
You imagined him, pouring over Scanlon’s work as he wrote notes in the margins of his copy, pages dogeared and passages highlighted, as he sat in his office typing away at this paper. His sleeves rolled up, his hair let out of his usual bun, his glasses perched on his nose as he read, only his desk lamp and computer illuminating his office. The keys of his computer clacking under his touch, lengthy fingers pitter pattering as he wrote his thoughts and analysis of Scanlon’s work — his brow furrowed in thought.
And you felt yourself flush, swallowing the lump in your throat, as you kicked off your blanket — it was so warm all of a sudden, pressing your thighs together. You shook the thoughts from your mind — what the hell were you doing? You glanced at the time, 2:39 AM it read back at you mockingly. You sigh, shutting your laptop down, and putting it aside — you need to do your skincare and brush your teeth. You glance back at your laptop—the familiar of your flush clung to your skin like a forbidden kiss—
And you clearly needed sleep.
“Can you read this passage to me?” Professor Geto’s voice said, as he stood in front of you in the lecture hall — as you stood behind the podium that faced the entire class — hands in his pockets, in an olive henley, his hair tied in the usual neat bun, his black bangs falling in his eyes as always, glasses on, instead of the usual contacts. The class sat all around you — his exercise in getting the class to participate and get comfortable speaking in front of others, just as philosophers had done in the past (his very own “literary salon” he called it).
You swallow, keeping your eyes fixed on the book in front of you, “‘When I ask myself what reason the fact that an action would be wrong provides me with not to do it, my answer is that such an action would be one that I could not justify to others on ground I could expect them to accept—’”
“What do you think Scanlon meant by this?” he asks you, but his gaze was different this time, it held the amusement it always did when it came to you, but it was warm — no — it was burning. His lips were pursed, as he crossed his arms, the henley’s fabric seemingly straining under the action.
“He meant that an action that is wrong in his eyes when he couldn’t expect others to accept the ground on which he could justify it,” and his lips curve into that damned smile, as he takes a few steps closer, rounding the podium, as he brushes past you, the brief touch of temptation incarnate — the dangling apple of Tantalus personified before you.
“And can you give me some examples of what kinds of actions would be wrong?” and he’s standing behind you now, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him — but you can feel his gaze on you.
“Senseless murder,” and he hums in approval, his breath felt like it was warming your skin, “wanton violence, reckless assault—”
“What other everyday wrongdoings could fall under this category?” and suddenly the class before you is gone, and it’s just the two of you in an empty lecture hall, “theft, lying, student-teacher relationships?”
And your breath catches in your throat, his cologne strangling any sense left in your mind, as his body heat nearly radiates off him, “Professor Geto—”
“Suguru,” he corrects you, and he’s reaching for you, but he pauses, “can I—” and you only can nod, and his fingers brush your hair aside, ever so gently, “would this be considered a moral wrongness, sweetheart?” his lips press a chaste kiss to your shoulder, and you shiver at the softness of his touch.
“Well, I am a student in your class, and even though I’m of age, it presents a power dynamic and a favoritism that might be—” and your sentence cuts off as his arms wind their way around your waist, pressing himself to your back, “I—”
“Go on,” he’s murmuring his words against the nape of your neck now, as he pulls his glasses off to place them on the podium, “might be what?”
“Might be viewed as morally wrong—” and he’s chuckling, the vibration sending a delicious shiver down your spine, as he presses more butterfly kisses to your neck.
“How can something be wrong when it feels so right?” he asks, and his hand is sliding down your side, “feels so good, does it even matter what society views as right or wrong? Do their rules pertain to what we’re doing here?” and his fingers toy with the hem of your pants, teasing and pulling, as he pauses, waiting for your answer, “what do you think—”
“Please,” you swallow, as you turn to look at him, seeing his lips in that same smile that haunted you, “touch me,”
And his smile only grows wider, “Good girl.”
BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZ.
Your eyes flutter open, your breath caught in your throat, as you stare at your ceiling, your hand reaching for your phone to silence the alarm. And you squeeze your thighs together, a distinct ache between your legs, your skin all too warm.
What the fuck was that?
You skip office hours the next week. You couldn’t bear it — you could barely tolerate going to class now, as the dream invades your nights, with filthy variations that leave you perturbed and horny (mostly horny). The common theme only being that each time you get close to anything remotely that’s anything (a kiss, a touch that’s more than a caress, anything at all), you wake up.
It’s as if your dreams are edging you — you groan into your pillow — and it was working.
You’re so wound up, you’ve even resorted to using your vibrator before bed, wondering if that would make a difference — it did, but only with you having a dream of Professor Geto using a vibrator on you during class — the vibrations growing even faster when you were speaking as he watched you—
You needed to stop thinking about this. But how can you?
God, it’s even worse when you’re in class. You sit in your usual seat, front and center — and why does it feel like his eyes are on you far too often? Even as he lectures Professor Geto attempts to catch your eye during his lecture, trying to make a point, you all but glue your gaze down to the textbook and your laptop, typing away his words, trying to drown out the whispered words and groans from your dream that ring in your ears. You can’t stop seeing him — unless you want to skip class, which you really couldn’t when attendance and participation counted for a good chunk of your grade.
Class ended and you were packing up your things. You had to weather the storm — avoid being alone with him until the dreams were just a distant memory—
And then you heard him say your name—
Your eyes flick up to meet Professor Geto — who had his usual swarm of students waiting by his desk, but he parted the crowd, he approached your own seat, hands in your pockets, “Do you have a class after this?”
“No, I don’t—” the words slip out before your sleep deprived mind can put the pieces together.
“Then can you please stay after class? I’d like to talk to you,” he says, and before you can say anything, he turns to speak to the students waiting for him.
And now you wait — your anxious energy singing at the frayed ends of your nerves, as you tried to hold yourself together — wondering what he could possibly want to speak to you about. His students dissipated one by one, until it was just you and him left in the lecture hall.
Just. Like. Your. Fucking. Dream.
You round the row you sat in, before walking down to speak to him, “Is there something wrong? The next paper isn’t due until the end of next week—”
“It isn’t about the paper,” and your heart squeezes, as you try to keep your breathing even, as he steps closer — and why, why did he have to opt to only wear a button up today — and a deep royal purple one no less, “I wanted to check in with you,” and he begins to undo the cuffs of his shirt, rolling them up — exposing his forearms and the pretty veins that ran along them — the same arms that he had used in one of your dreams to bend you over that desk, the whispers of heated kisses along your neck—
You needed to get out of here.
You blink, “I’m fine,” and he tilts his head.
“I only ask because you’ve looked tired the last two classes, and you didn’t show up for office hours this week,” he crosses his arms, unhelpfully, as he purses his lips, the lines of his brow furrowed.
“I’m fine, Professor, I appreciate your concern — I just haven’t been sleeping well,” you admit — it was the truth, “and that’s why I didn’t come to office hours. I was trying to catch up on sleep,”
He nods, sighing, fingers raking through his hair — those same fingers that would feel so pretty around your neck— “I know I’m hard on you,” oh he would be, “but it’s because I know you’re capable of more — most of these students are taking the class for an elective, but I know it’s more than that for you,” yes, it’s so you can finally earn his praise, “but I’m also here for your benefit, so if you need an extension or anything else, please let me know,”
God, all you wanted was for him to maybe wrap you in his arms and kiss you, or bend you over, pull your clothes off and fuck you, or just to leave you alone all together.
You weren’t sure which one you wanted the most at this moment.
“I will, Professor Geto, I appreciate it,” you murmur, biting your lip, as you try to focus on the task at hand — getting out of here, “I don’t think I need an extension, I’ve made good progress so far. I just need to finish it, so I can revise,”
“Well, let me know if anything changes,” his lips curl, “ok?” And you nod, and if you weren’t so hyperaware, you swore you would have imagined it — but you didn’t, “good girl,”
And you pause a moment — his lips did move, you pinch yourself discreetly — and you know it isn’t a fucking dream. You only smile in return, giving a curt nod and goodbye, before beelining out of the classroom.
But you didn’t stick around long enough to see the slight flush on Professor Geto’s cheeks — nor did you know that you two were thinking the same thing about yourselves—
What the fuck were you doing?
But to your relief, the dreams do subside, and you’re finally able to rest — but the thing that doesn’t subside is your awareness of your professor.
You sit in class, watching him teach — and you knew he was attractive, hell, it was one of the things that made you all the more embarrassed to have him ream you out — having your super hot professor rail at you for your mistakes wasn’t on your list of shining achievements (lest it was him actually railing you—).
You needed to stop doing that.
But it felt as if you weren’t the only one who was hyper aware. You felt as if his eyes skimmed over you during class this week, his replies to your weekly discussion board were less biting than usual, and his office hours were surprisingly canceled this week. First time all semester, but you weren’t so full of yourself that you thought it had anything to do with you — right?
Either way, you had submitted your paper and now you were done with this week—and as class finishes, you slowly pack up, looking forward to the week being over with and for a personal rendezvous with your bed. But as the usual gaggle of students make their way to chat with Professor Geto, your eyes flicker up to meet his, as he stares back a moment.
And you can’t make yourself look away, and for a moment, neither can he.
But then a student calls for his attention, so his eyes flicker away, a smile on his lips as he spoke — and you turn to leave, grabbing your bag, as you look back—
But why did his smile look so strained?
There must be something wrong with him.
Professor Suguru Geto drummed his fingers against his desk, but he felt more like shoving his things off his desk — if only to distract him for a moment. He pulls his glasses off, and runs a hand down his face—god, he hadn’t been sleeping well. No, his nights were plagued, plagued by you — you had slipped into his dreams ever since that day he stopped you.
Why had he stopped you?
It wasn’t the first time he had personally stopped a student who seemed to be struggling, he could count the times he had on both his hands.
But this, this felt different.
You were different.
But why were you different to him? He rubs his temples, from the moment you had stepped into his office he thought he had read you — an overachieving student used to getting their way, As handed out to them, and an inability to take criticism.
He knew, because he used to be one of them. But he knew you needed to be challenged to grow — but it was a matter if you would accept it. And from the moment you asked him when the next paper was due, he couldn’t help but smile.
And his time spent in office hours with you grew more enjoyable each time you came. And when you hadn’t last week, he couldn’t sit still, checking the time, checking his email, and even checking if his office hours had been accidentally listed wrong in his weekly email to the class (they weren’t). And the hour and half passed with many students hungry for his time and his charm — but not the one he was looking for.
Then those words had slipped from his tongue when he had stopped you, left his mouth like he was possessed, and now he had found himself here. Found himself thinking about how your lips parted when he said it, thinking about how you were feeling, thinking about you, you, you—
There’s a knock at the door, “Professor Geto?”
And it was you.
“I apologize, I know you canceled office hours, but I just had a few questions I didn’t get to ask you in class,” your fingers toy with the ring you wore, a folder in hand, a soft smile on your lips.
“Of course, come in,” and you did, your dress was painfully short, the fabric riding up as you sat, the folder in your lap, “is this about your paper?”
“It is, I was reading a few papers, and after our conversation, I couldn’t help but find your paper,” and he tilts his head, “and I want to include it as a source in my paper, but I had a few points you made that I wanted clarified,”
He raises an eyebrow, and he can’t help but tease, “Clarified or criticized? Are you planning on turning the tables on me?”
“Well I do have a red pen,” you click your pen, lips curved in a smile, and there’s a hint of heat that he wishes to unearth, pluck from the earth and possess himself, “but I promise I’ll be civil,”
“I have no doubt,” he had a million when it came to you — but that wasn’t one of them. He runs his fingers through his hair, a few strands coming loose, “of course, let’s discuss it,”
“You discuss Scanlon’s idea of a social contract, everyone within this moral society agrees on what’s right and what’s wrong — the basic principle is that if there is a rule no one can reasonably reject as a basis, but is there such a rule that can exist?”
He tilts his head, “Scanlon’s theory relies on this premise — are you questioning me or the premise?”
“Both, actually,” you shrug, crossing your legs, “is there a magic switch that changes every person to be rational? Because I think only rational people can agree on what rules cannot be reasonably rejected — what about people who are cruel, inconsiderate, self-absorbed? Do those traits go away when operating under Scanlon’s social contract? You propose in your paper that moral reasons are not subjective — nothing is uncolored by human opinion,”
“No, but—”
“How can we agree on what is truly right or wrong? How can one hundred people agree on that when everyone views these actions in different ways? Right and wrong? Black, white, or gray?” you rise from your chair to hand him his paper printed out, the paper more red than white with the amount of writing you’ve done, “like for example,” you lean forward, your hand braced against the edge of his desk, “can one hundred people agree that student-teacher relationships are wrong? Because one veto,” your hand trails ever closer to his, toeing that dangerous line either of you had even yet to approach to cross. But here you were, seemingly barreling toward it.
And he didn’t want to pull away.
He swallows, whispering your name, “This can’t—” and you were so close — too close, your perfume hypnotized him, your fingers brush against his and he can’t help but hold them, his thumb rubbing across your knuckles, “they can agree that it’s wrong — the power imbalance from the authority of the professor and the age difference—”
“I disagree, so the rule isn’t legitimate, right? Even if one disagrees, the rule cannot be make valid,” and his breath catches as your fingers slide up his arm now, resting on his shoulder, as you lean over his chair now, as your other hand toys with the loose strands of his hair, “if the two of us can’t even agree, then how could a hundred, or a thousand, or a million?”
“But—”
“But what?” you pout, your fingers dragging down his chest, toying with the top button of his button down, “I don’t see you pulling away, do you want me to stop, Professor? Because I will,”
And he swallows thickly, but he can’t stop you — he doesn’t want to, “But, we shouldn’t — it isn’t a reasonable objection—” he tries his hardest to stand firm, but he only crumbles when your fingers brush his cheek, tracing the cut of his jaw. And it feels like flames tickling at his skin, begging him to thrust his hand into the fire.
“Like I said, people are not reasonable,” your lips draw closer, and he can feel your breath warm his own, and god, why are you so tempting? And your lips stop short, barely an inch between your faces, “and besides, would you rather be reasonable or satisfied?”
And there’s only one answer — you.
He leans forward, lips nearly brushing yours—
RING. RING. RING.
He jerks awake from his desk, papers sliding as he does, his breath caught in his throat, and his eyes wander — and finds no one else there.
A dream. He runs his fingers through his hair again, crumpling the paper he had oh so lovingly drooled during his nap. He needed to get his shit together.
But his current predicament wasn’t making that easy — his cock strained against the fabric of his pants — was he a grown adult or a horny teenager?
Fuck. It wasn’t going away — no matter what he thought, his mind kept circling back to you.
And his eyes slide to the time: 1:40 AM.
Far past the time any soul would be here, even cleaning staff would have been long gone. It was just him—
And you.
“So good for me, baby,” he’s panting, palming his erection, an embarrassing amount of precum drips from his cock for a barely wet dream. He ignores the gnawing guilt in the back of his mind — but he can’t help but imagine the image of you, spread out on his desk, hiking that oh so teasing sundress up, only to find your underwear drenched — just for him.
His fingers would slide up your plush thighs, squeezing to draw a gasp from your pretty lips, “Professor—“ you’d say, unable to form a sentence, all those brilliant falling away under his touch, until it was just him occupying every crevice of your mind.
“Where’s that mouth now? So needy f’me,” he’d murmur, “but such a good girl,” and you were, his thumb tracing his slit, smearing his pre-cum, as he imagined you spread on his desk, your puffy folds nearly showing through your far too translucent panties, “my best student’s so pliant for me now,”
And his hand moves faster, and he can imagine your fingers reaching for him too, your smaller fingers wouldn’t be able to even touch as much as he can — but god it would feel so much better.
But he’d want you to feel even better than he did.
He’d tug your underwear down, stuffing it in his pocket (his fee for all of additional office hours), and he would prep you right — fuck you open with his fingers, two or three, before he tasted you. Your fingers would dig into his scalp as you moaned his name again and again, before you came all over his face.
He’d lick his lips clean of your release, before dragging his cock down your sweet cunt, watching his precum mix with your cum, as your walls flutter around nothing, craving to have him sink into you.
“Professor, please,” you’d beg with pretty, kiss bitten lips between pants, “please,”
“Where’s all those quips now, sweetheart?” he’d tease, as he would let his tip tease your clit, pulling a moan from your lips, “all those words fall away when you want this cock, don’t they? Been thinking about you like this, wondering what you’d look like spread out under me,” and he would lean down to kiss you, “it’s even better than I expected,”
He’s jerking himself off in earnest now, the lewd noises of his hand around his cock filling most of the silence, his low groans filling the rest. And he’d finally sink into you, inch by inch, until he’d kiss your cervix with his weeping tip.
And, god, he wishes his fingers fisted around his cock would be as good as your cunt would feel around him. He would fuck you slow at first, “I know those boys can’t fuck you as good as I can, as well as I can,” he’d tell you, as he would pick up the pace when you’d tell him to, making you cum again and again with his cock, thumb rubbing at your clit, until he was finally close. He’d either cum all over your stomach, marking you with his release, or if you’d let him, he’d cum inside you, filling you with his seed—and then he’d watch it drip out when he would pull out. He groans your name lowly, shuddering as he comes all over his hand, hard.
Fuck.
That’s the hardest he’d cum in a long time. He’s a mess — panting and flushed, as he leans back, head against the back of his chair, too spent to even clean up. And then he finally does, cleaning himself up well, and collecting his things to leave the office.
But he only treated the symptoms, not the problem itself. His hard-on is gone, but his mind is still filled with thoughts of you. How he’d kiss you sweetly after, how he’d clean you up, care for you gently, make you rest because you never seem to do enough of that, and he’d let you relax — finally relax, as you slept the night in his arms.
As he heads to his car, he knows that he’s utterly fucked (without even being fucked) because he has feelings for you. And he didn’t know if they were going to go away as easily as he hoped.
But he hoped they would. He owed it to you, your education, and your future career not to act on these feelings.
And he sighs as he sits in his car, starting it, but why did it hurt not to?
It was that time again.
Your next paper had come around again, and you needed to prepare a topic before you went to speak to Professor Geto. You had put it off, something you had never done with his class, but you wanted to limit the amount of time you spent with him, if only for the sake of your heart.
Watching him in lectures was bad enough, your thighs pressing together as you watched him speak, his impeccable looks and intelligence a deadly combination for your heart (and your body). You could barely focus, your eyes too fixed on the way he wrote on the board — his fingers too lithe and too thick, his voice all too alluring when discussing Kant and Aristotle and you can’t help but think what he’d sound moaning your name.
God. Fuck.
Either way, you needed to listen to the lectures again since you weren’t able to pay attention. Maybe without watching the video would be better, you settle on your bed, notebook and pen in hand, as you place your headphones on. His voice filled your ears, and you’re scrawling notes.
But your mind begins to wander. He’s lecturing on the deontological ethics, and all you can think about is how he could make you cum with just that voice of his.
Shit, you shifted your thighs again, feeling that familiar ache again. What would he sound like when he moaned? How would it sound to have him touch you, run those long fingers down your thighs, and whisper filthy things in your ear?
As you listened to the lecture, his voice became white noise as your fingers slipped past the waistband of your shorts, and you shut your eyes.
“That’s it, sweetheart, spread your legs for me,” he’d murmur in your ear, his chest pressed to your back and he’s urge your thighs wider, and his fingers would press against the wet patch on your panties, and he’d hum, “so wet f’me and I haven’t touched you yet, Princess,” his lips would kiss your pulse, “you like my voice that much?”
“Professor,” you gasp, as his fingers would tease you through your underwear, the fabric growing more soaked by the second, “please—“ and his thumb would ghost around your clit, teasing you, as his long fingers would piston in and out — they would reach so much fucking deeper “I need to—“
“Already begging? I knew you learned fast, but not this fast,” and his fingers would tug the crotch of your panties aside, his fingertips tracing around your outer lips, before a finger pushes past your sweet cunt, “fuck, my favorite student’s pussy is so fucking tight. These boys are not fucking you right,” and you whimper, his finger would be so much thicker than yours, as you glide another finger inside you, the two dragging against your walls, “listen to your pretty cunt,” he’d grin against your skin, “and the wet squelch of your pussy, “so pliant for me, takes my fingers so well,” he’d murmur with a chuckle, “practically swallowing me up,”
And you’re bucking your hips against him, wanting, needing him deeper, because your fingers don’t reach as far as his does, moans leaving your lips.
“I’m so—” you’re moving faster and faster, his lecture still filling your ears, your pre-cum soaking your shorts and onto the bed sheets, “I can’t—”
“Come on, Princess, use those big words of yours, you have no problem usually,” his hot words would whisper in your ear, and you’d hear him rub his erection against your ass, trying to get himself off, and you’d grind against him, wanting any friction, “tell me,”
“Let me cum, please,” and he would smile, running his fingers through your hair, before he bore his thumb down on your clit and sunk a third finger into your needy cunt, just as you did now. And it’s too much for you, your toes curl, your messy walls fluttering around your fingers, as you cum all over your shorts and sheets with a groan of his name. Your fingers were soaked, as you pant, trying to gather yourself, as you came down from your high.
“Fuck,” you murmur, tugging off your headphones, so your cunt doesn’t have to twitch listening to his dulcet words again. And you’re pulling your fingers out, your cum dripped down your fingers, as you shifted, far too wet underneath you, as you tried to slip off your bed to take a shower and clean yourself up.
And then you realized, you didn’t even hear any of the lecture.
Double fuck.
Why was this so difficult?
You stood near his office, trying to work up the urge to approach his door for office hours? Since it’s almost the end of the semester, there had been an influx of students attending office hours, and with everything, you had found excuses in your head to avoid office hours. But you couldn’t avoid him anymore.
For your final paper in the class, you had to have a meeting with him during office hours to discuss your topic, complete with bibliography and outline. And it was almost time for your meeting.
But you didn’t know how to go in.
The last few weeks in class have made things worse. You couldn’t help but watch the other students fawn over Professor Geto, his lips curled as he spoke to them. And you’d leave class without a word. You had to stick through the semester and your feelings would disappear with time. You wouldn’t have to see him, you wouldn’t have class anymore, and you couldn’t talk to him.
Or wouldn’t.
But now you had to. And you didn’t know how— otherwise than just to do it.
You knock at his door, “Come in,” and you open the door to see an empty desk, blinking, “I’m over here,”
And your head snaps to your right, and Professor Geto is sitting on his couch, his legs crossed with a stack of papers in hand. His jacket is slung over the side of the couch, his deep maroon button up sleeves rolled up, glasses perched on the tip of his nose.
“I thought you lived at your desk,” you raise an eyebrow, “decided to change it up for the end of the semester?”
“Everyone needs a change of scenery,” he leans forward, placing the stack of papers on the table in front of him, “do you want to sit here or move to the desk?”
You shift in place, before moving to the couch beside him, “This is fine,” he stares, “what?”
“Just surprised, you always have something to say,” he leans on his elbow, “no smart remarks today?”
“Fresh out, can I offer you my proposal for the final paper instead?” You say dryly, and he cracks a smile, holding out your proposal. He clicks his red pen, readying his sword.
He takes it, his dark eyes darting back and forth as he reads, his brow furrowed in concentration — and you can’t help but want to reach out and smooth his brow for him, tease him that he’ll get wrinkles. But you can’t. Can’t because that would cross a line that neither of you should cross.
“You’ve come a long way,” he says, as he flips it back the front, writing only a few notes here and there.
“But?” You wait for it.
His gaze flickers up, a tilt of his head, “That was the end of my sentence,”
You pause a moment, “Really?”
“Really,” he scribbles a few more notes, “I look forward to reading the paper, it will be excellent I’m sure, maybe you’ll even get higher than a B+,”
“Oh, ha, ha,” sarcasm dripping from your tongue, but you can’t help but smile, “you’ll miss me and my endless need for academic validation,” but was it really academic validation you were after now — your eyes gazed at him sitting with the tip of his pen pressed to his lips — or was it his?
And it’s his turn to pause, and his lips curl into a soft smile, “I will,”
Your breath catches, “Really?”
He chuckles, “Really,” he licks his lips, his eyes glancing downward at your proposal than at your face, “I’ve enjoyed our chats this semester,”
“Have you? Even when I argued with you,” a half nervous half serious laugh dies on your lips when his gaze meets yours, far too serious for your heart to take.
“Especially then,” his fingers run through his hair a moment, before he speaks again, “I can’t say you could say the same,”
“And why couldn’t you?” his eyes flicker with an emotion you can’t grasp fast enough, before it slips away into the depths of his dark irises.
“Because you stopped coming,” his voice is soft, his tone barely even, and this gives you a real pause, heat flushing your body, as if his words had set every nerve ending alight, your mouth growing dry along with it, and it gives him a reprieve he needs to brush it aside, “you don’t have to, of course, these office hours are not relevant to your—”
“I didn’t stop coming because I didn’t enjoy it,” you cut him off, swallowing the lump in your throat, “I stopped coming because I did,”
He stares, “What do you—”
“I don’t want academic validation anymore, I don’t care about my GPA,” you consider it a moment, “ok I do,” and he snorts, “but I care more about validation from you,”
“From me?” he says, and his gaze tries to meet yours and it can’t — but his fingers brush against your skin, making your breath catch, your eyes finding his, “and what kind of validation do you want?”
And you can’t find the words, and you hesitation makes him shake his head, “I apologize, I shouldn’t have—”
“Will you have a drink with me?” and he’s speechless for once, “after the semester is over, of course — I know it wouldn’t be ethical before,”
And his eyes find yours again, “Some would say it would be unethical after too,”
“I would say it depends,”
“On what basis?” and you can’t help but smirk.
“Am I being graded, Professor?” and you delight in a small crack in his smiling veneer as a light flush dusts the tops of his ears, “and if I’m good, will you call me a good girl again?”
He swallows, “I don’t want to cost you your education or your—”
“I understand the risks, but we aren’t contemplating shifting a trolley to hit one person or five, or murdering one healthy person to save five sick ones,” and he raises an eyebrow, “it’s a drink to celebrate the end of the semester,”
“And if it's something more?” he nearly whispers, the softness of his voice reflected in his features, as his fingers that rested on the couch twitched beside yours.
“Then we’ll cross that bridge then,” and then you add with a small smile, “Or hit the metaphorical person with the trolley,” and it pulls at the corners of his lips.
“You make a fair point,” and you gasp in mock surprise.
“The first time all semester you agree with me,” and he chuckles, a noise you wished you could hear him make innumerable times more.
“Not the first,” he replies, before leaning forward, pressing your outline back into your hands, his fingers brushing yours, “we both agree you’re a good girl, don’t we?”
And your breath catches, his words warm your skin, turning your blood to lava, “Professor,” and he smiles again.
“When we go for drinks, call me Suguru.”
~~~~
The semester wears on and finally draws to an end, but finals induced hibernation begins for you. A mix of papers and exams, you finish everything — including your paper for Professor Geto’s class. As always, he has you submit a paper and electronic copy, the paper copy to be dropped off at his office mailbox. And you do just that, the mailboxes being only around the corner from his office, and your heart squeezes at the thought of him. After this, the class was over, it was done. You weren’t his student anymore.
And you place the paper into the mailbox and sigh, chewing your lip as you pass by his office, but find the door closed (and locked, as you quickly turned the doorknob to test it). Where was he? This was the time he was usually in his office, but maybe he had left campus for the semester — had he forgotten about your drinks?
Fuck. You hadn’t even discussed a time or place, you had left it vague — “after finals.” Your cheeks burned at the memory, you were far too flustered to elaborate. And you had spent far too many nights imagining him calling you a ‘good girl’ in many other situations.
And then you heard a call of your name, your gaze snapping up, your heart leaping, but only to see the department head.
“Hi Professor, how are you?” and the two of you make polite chit-chat, until he asks you.
“Have you applied to be a T.A. for the department?” and you blink, “applications just opened and I think from what I’ve heard about you around the department, I think you would be an excellent candidate.”
“I’d love to be — how does the application process work?” and he explains that it’s a double blind process where applications are viewed without personal information of the candidates, and then matched with a professor based only on resume and writing samples.
You can barely listen to the department head, still far too distracted with thoughts of Professor Geto — so you agree to apply, if only to placate the department head, and make an excuse to leave.
It had been a week or so, as you lay in bed in your apartment, staring at your ceiling — you hadn’t even bothered to get Professor Geto’s personal number. You couldn’t even reach out to him if you tried, as the only way you could was through his university email, which was out of the question — the university had rules against a professor and student dating, and if anyone found that email — you sighed — it wouldn’t be good.
Maybe it was for the best.
The only communication you had gotten from him was an email from Professor Geto’s mailing list to the class from a few days ago, stating that he was out of state in a conference, and he would return soon, but your grades would be emailed to you. But the paper copies would be available to pick up in his office from 3:00 PM to 6:00 PM on Tuesday. It was almost time to pick up your paper, and your nerves bit at you as you thought about the possibility of seeing him. Who knows if he would even be there to begin with.
Would it be anything? Would it be nothing? Was there not any point to this at all?
Oh, great, you were becoming existential.
You sat up, the only thing you could do was go. So you do, taking your time to get dressed. If you were going to see him, you might as well look your best.
Fuck. You couldn’t go in. It had taken you longer to get back to campus than you thought, and now there were only a few minutes of his office hours left.
And you’re about to knock when the door opens, and you find yourself face to face with the man who has consumed every thought of yours for the last few months — good and bad alike.
“Late again?” and you can’t help but smile.
“I prefer fashionably late,” and his eyes rake over your outfit, making your cheeks burn.
“You certainly are,” and he steps aside to allow you into his office, and you glance between the couch and the desk, but he makes the choice and sits at his desk, “I have your paper right here,” and he’s rifling through his file of papers, “how did your finals go?”
“If I have an A on this paper, perfectly,” and a smile tugs at his lips, and you raise an eyebrow, “what? Something funny?”
“Not at all,” and he pulls your paper out, ha “I just recall you saying you wanted something more than, what was it? ‘My academic validation?’”
And your cheeks flush, “I did, but I also didn’t hear from you,” and your fingers reach for the paper, and he holds onto it, “Professor,”
“I couldn’t reach out to you because I was still your professor, but once you get this grade, I’m not anymore,” and his gaze is sharper without his glasses today, his dark blue Henley doing nothing to help the flush on your cheeks — memories of your dreams flooding your mind, “and once you get this grade back, I’m not anymore,”
“And what does that mean?” you can’t pull your eyes away from his, but his fingers let go of your graded paper, “how about you look at the last page of your paper and see?”
You pull the paper into your hands, flipping to the last page:
99 — I was impressed by this paper not only by the content but by its comprehension and use of both ethics and philosophy. But I was also impressed by the person who wrote the paper. You’ve shown determination and growth throughout the semester — and you have reminded me what we owe to each other. And I think we owe each other a drink, and a chance for this.
You feel his eyes watch you as you read, your eyes finally meeting his — his brow knit together, his lips pursed, concentrated gaze trying to decipher your reaction.
“Why a 99?” And his eyebrows raise, as if to ask, “that’s your question?”
“You had some spelling and grammar errors,”
“Really? You couldn’t let it slide?” And he tilts his head, before he sees your lips curling into a grin.
“So you think it’s funny to mess with your professor?” And his voice drops, a playful tone that makes you nearly shiver, as he leans forward, resting his chin against his elbow.
“You’re not my professor anymore, are you, Suguru?” he likes that by the way his teeth bite his bottom lip briefly, his eyes flitting to your lips for a moment and back to your eyes, “so I guess we’re using that trolley after all,”
“If you want to,” he says softly, “I wouldn’t blame you if you change your mind, it’s a risk,”
It was. It was a risk to your reputations, your careers, your futures — especially to yours. But, your eyes met his again.
“Contractualism is about avoiding risk,” and he nods, as his gaze falls away, “but some risk is necessary in life, and I think this is one that’s worth taking,”
“We will have to be careful,” he murmurs, but already his fingers are twitching, far too eager to touch you, “we can’t make any mistakes. I don’t want to hurt you,” he adds softly.
“I know, I don’t want to hurt you either,” and you rise before slowly rounding his desk, “but I want to know what it’s like,”
And he can’t stop himself — he gets to his feet, his fingers finding your cheeks and he kisses you. You can taste the black coffee on his lips, his kiss is gentle at first, so chaste and fleeting that you’d swear he didn’t kiss you at all — and so it’s not a second before your lips find his again, in a deeper kiss that steals every ounce of breath from your lungs, and leaves only heat behind. This was dangerous. The very risk you were both trying to avoid, but as he’s pressing you into the edge of his desk, you can’t find the logic you misplaced when those goddamn fingers you’ve been dreaming about squeeze your hips.
“Fuck,” he’s panting — god that word sounded more sinful on his lips than it should — as he presses sweet kisses to your neck, “we shouldn’t be doing this here,”
“Not very ethical,” you chuckle breathlessly, as your fingers rake through his now disheveled bun, “but I can’t find the sense to care,” your noses brush, as you can’t help but smile, “what would Scanlon or Kant say about this?”
And his arms lift you onto his desk, several papers crumpling underneath, “Who the fuck cares?” he’s hissing, his lips find yours in a searing kiss, as his thighs press yours apart, as he settles himself between your legs, his knee grazing your core, drawing a delightful gasp from your lips, “I know what I want,” and his eyes soften, his fingers tracing the length of your cheek, “do you?”
Before you can answer, two pings catch your attention — your phone and his computer lighting up with a notification, and you both pause a moment, as your eyes glance at the banner notification on your phone, skimming over the words. The T.A. positions have been assigned.
“Fuck,” you hear him mutter, and you gaze snaps up to his on his computer, the email now opened on his screen, “this can’t be right—”
“What is it—” and the question dies on your lips as your eyes find where his rested —
You — you were his T.A. for next semester — for the very class that you met in.
Fuck, indeed.
✧ read part 2 now
✧ a/n: lets all remember that student and teacher relationships are bad in real life. it's ok to live vicariously through reader but unfortunately no professor will be as hot as professor geto or gojo T_T. s/o to @/laneymusings and @bucky-of-the-opera for beta reading this for me and being just absolutely wonderful!!
✧ tag list: @sokkasmoon, @unoriginalideas, @waytootiredforthisss, @sinnerstardoll, @secret-pages-of-my-heart, @drthymby, @hanlay, @catsgomurp, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @esuz, @difficultdomains, @poopyface222, @iwassentfromhell, @diogodxlot, @totallynotcc, @llovekami, @deadmarygolds, @teatreeoilll, @carcarcraziiv2, @forest-hashira, @aliyalala, @esuz, @that-goth-bisexual, @hehehehesthings, @imjustmememe, @j1jay, @iwassentfromhell,
#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru imagines#geto x reader#geto smut#geto x you#geto suguru fanfiction#jjk smut#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#dividers by @/saradika
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Pale Blue [Part One]
Geto Suguru x AFAB Pregnant Reader
READ PART TWO HERE
Warnings: THIS FIC IS CANON COMPLIANT, if you are not caught up on Jujutsu Kaisen's manga, or at the very least if you have not seen "gojo's past" you WILL be spoiled. This story contains darker themes, heavier topics, pregnancy and all the lovely details of it, and lastly explicit sexual content. Read at your own risk!
A/N: Here it is!! Part One!! This fic is super self indulgent for me and I'm very excited for y'all to read it. The idea literally came to me in a dream like a month ago and I woke up and immediately started writing. It's been a long ass time since I've written a plot heavy fic, and it's been well over a year since I've actively planned a multiple part story and gone through with it. So, this fic is kinda like... my baby lol.
Word Count: 19k | Playlist
September 2007
Your mouth felt like chalk, hands trembling ever so slightly as you set the small wand on the countertop in your bathroom. You couldn't think straight, but that unfortunately wasn’t anything new, it had been that way for the last three weeks. Ever since he left, you had felt like your head was stuck in a fishbowl. People eyeing you with pity at the world you had been dropped into, their whispers muffled into incoherent nonsense as you walked by. Satoru was no better off, but he could at least tug his emotions off of his sleeves and place them in his heart where nobody could see them, except for you. At least you would be able to see them if he didn’t shut you out.
Not that you had been any kinder, you had withdrawn too.
The only one who seemed alright was Shoko, her reaction to Suguru’s deflection was nothing out of character. Not many things could shock her to her core, even something as absurd as what Suguru had done couldn’t wipe the gentle smile from her face when she saw him again. You envied her for that level of composure. You envied her for getting to see him again, just as you envied Satoru. For some reason, the man evaded you as if you were the plague. Or perhaps it looked like you were merely chasing after a ghost, a figment of your imagination. You kind of wished that it was true, that Geto Suguru had been someone you conjured up in your mind.
But he wasn’t, he was a real, breathing human who had taken over one hundred lives…. Including his parents. The thought made your mouth taste like metal, everytime you zoned out too long and thought too hard, you’d bite your inner cheek until it bled. Three weeks later you still felt like you were moving on autopilot, the only thing that could pull you out of it would be his gentle embrace. You blinked a bit, the metallic taste coating your tongue as you unclench your jaw and look in the mirror. You hardly recognize yourself, for a moment you think you look just like him, and it's enough to steal the little air you had in your lungs.
You had never thought you'd experience a heartbreak as severe as this one, and you especially didn’t think it would be dealt to you by Suguru. Though you saw all of the signs, the hundreds if not thousands he put out and never let you touch. No, his cries for help were always directed at Satoru. The white haired man never seemed to catch them, and if he did, he never said a thing. Suguru had refused to acknowledge his issues when he was with you, no matter how many times you tried to sit him down and get it out. He’d change the subject and move on.
He’d sweet-talk you, making you forget why you had been so concerned in the first place because there, for a fleeting moment, was the boy you had fallen in love with two years prior. He’d fill your mind with nothing but good things, pretty noises, good feelings. Not stopping until his name was all you could utter, not stopping until you fell asleep in his arms, content and sedated. He was a master at avoidance, trying so hard to keep things perfect just for you. You were beginning to hate him for it, but even the idea of hating him made bile burn your throat.
You were left in emotional turmoil, love mixing with hate mixing with rage and depression. No matter how many times the word hate flashed through your mind, it was never truly directed at Suguru. Rather the jujutsu world, the things they had forced upon him, the pressure he had been made to feel. You especially felt that bubbling hate for a certain man by the name of Fushiguro Toji, who caused this whole spiral. He was long gone now, Satoru had effectively put the man down and he would not be getting back up. Though it killed you to no end that he got the easy way out. You almost wished that Satoru had kept the man alive.
You couldn’t stomach it as your back pressed into the cold wall of your bathroom, arms folded over your chest as you stared at nothing in particular. Eyes refusing to focus on anything of importance but making a point to avoid the developing test on the counter.
Suguru had left you a note, shortly after his final conversation with Satoru. You had returned to your dorm to see it on your bed and you recognized his handwriting before you even read your name on the envelope. You could still feel your hands trembling as you ripped the paper, flinching as it cut your skin, crumbling as tears dripped down your cheeks. You read it three times before finally comprehending the words, the paper littered with tear drops and your blood. Every word was written with care, you could hear his voice as your eyes passed over each sentence, see his face before you as if he was speaking.
It was an apology, his resolve and a goodbye all in one. Leaving you more empty than you had felt before. Still, it sat on your nightstand, you couldn’t throw it away. As if his sweaters weren’t still hanging in your closet, like the blanket he got you wasn’t still sitting on your bed. You held onto that letter like it was the last thing you had of him. Mourning him as if he had died, like he wasn’t still alive and breathing and walking around within the very city you were in now. You almost thought it would be easier if he had died. At least you’d feel some sort of closure, knowing he’s not coming back. But this, this was a form of torture for you.
To know that you could bump into him at a restaurant, or even pass him on a busy street. He wasn’t gone, if anything he was doing better than he ever was. Leaving you, Satoru, Shoko, and everyone else behind to pick up the shattered pieces. Still, you couldn’t hate him for that. No amount of anger would mend the torn pieces of your broken heart. You were fairly certain nothing would, the only cure was the one man you could no longer call your own. You’d spend the rest of your life with your heart ripped wide, an empty void filling the space.
You inhaled deeply, pushing off the bathroom wall and taking a hesitant step towards the counter. The test was upside down, you couldn’t see the small little window that would show you the results, for a moment you wanted to pick it up and throw it in the trash without even looking. There was nothing stopping you from doing so either, but you held back anyways. The only reason you were taking a pregnancy test in the first place was because your period was two weeks late. You could easily chalk it up to stress, but at the same time you knew all too well that you and Suguru often went without protection. Idiot.
Somehow, despite his inner battles, Suguru’s sex drive never slowed down. Maybe it was the craving for physical touch or maybe sex was a great way for him to forget about his issues for a while. Regardless, you had always been eager to oblige, even if it meant falling into his traps and luring your attention away from the real issue at hand. You had no idea how long it had been and if the damn thing was positive you were sure it would show up by now. So you picked it up and flipped it over in your hand, tired eyes scanning it. Your forehead creased for a moment, eyes squinting in frustration because you couldn’t tell if there was a second line or not.
If it’s positive, it's too early to tell. Your grip tightens around the small plastic test, anger flooding your heart as you chuck it in the trash can with such force it rattles as it hits the wall. Once again you are left with uncertainty. It seemed nobody could give you a straight answer anymore. Truth be told, you weren’t sure what you wanted that test to say. The thought of being pregnant with his child would have elated you two months ago. Now the thought made your insides twist and turn, for a moment you thought you were going to puke again. At the very same time, the idea of the test being negative felt like a rug being pulled out from under you.
As if you didn’t know that feeling well enough.
In a twisted way, you thought that being pregnant would bring him back to you. As if it would erase every heinous crime he had committed and bring the man you loved back into your arms. You were foolish, but not foolish enough to really believe in those daydreams. You hauled yourself out of your bathroom and back into your dorm room, falling into your disheveled bed with a soft thump. His t-shirt was hanging loosely on your body, it still smells faintly of him. It’s the only shirt of his that you’d been wearing, too afraid to lose his scent on the others.
It was still early enough for you to sleep for a few more hours before Shoko was knocking on your door and hauling you into the world. You hated it, but she assured you that you’d thank her for it in a couple months. You doubted it, and for some reason you felt like she did too.
Your sleep was dreamless, it had been since Suguru left you. You weren’t quite sure if you were thankful for that or not. Suguru was still the last thing you thought about before falling asleep and the first thing you thought of when you woke up. His absence consumed your every thought, impossible to ignore, unable to forget. There had been a few tough nights where you dragged yourself down the hall towards Satoru’s room. The man was usually still up, sitting on his bed with a book in hand that you could tell he wasn’t reading. Just an attempt at distraction.
He welcomes you without a word, scooting over a bit so you could sit beside him, head on his shoulder as he tosses the book to the floor. You remain like that until you fall asleep, no words spoken but nothing needed to be verbalized to understand you were both mourning the loss of a man who wasn’t even dead. In an odd way, you felt as if you were mourning Satoru as well. His smile, his jokes, the way his eyes seemed to sparkle, all of those things had dwindled. To his credit, he was managing to pull himself back together, at least better than you had been.
A harsh knock at your door signaled that Shoko was there. You hadn’t even realized that you fell asleep, but you felt even more groggy than you had a couple hours prior. “I’m up.” It’s hoarse and unconvincing but you hear Shoko utter a small “ok”. You know she’s still there, she always waits for you to get dressed and emerge from your room yourself. If you make her wait any longer than fifteen minutes she's usually barging in herself to pull you from your bed. Your body aches as you sit up, stumbling across the room to the bathroom because you need to pee yet again.
The air almost feels stale as you get your routine done in the bathroom, the test is still sitting in the small can beside your sink. It’s presence is heavy, to the point you question if you should take it out with you despite only having a couple tissues accompanying it. You decided against it when she knocked again. “Just getting dressed.” You mumbled softly, listening for her small “Hmph.” At least letting you know she heard you. Your uniform still felt foreign on your skin, it had for the last three weeks but you tried to ignore it. “About time.” Shoko smiled as you emerged, Satoru beside her. “Oh? You’re both here?” Your tone was questioning but not mad.
“Yeah, Yaga said we should take the day to be normal or something like that.” Satoru drawled, circular glasses sliding down his nose as he rolled his eyes. “Us? Normal?” You snorted, pulling your door shut as Shoko began walking down the hallway. “He just doesn’t know what to do with us at the moment.” Satoru offered in a low tone, Shoko would scold him for speaking like that, especially to you. The thing is, he wasn’t saying anything that you hadn’t already thought of yourself. “I don’t know what to do with us either.” You could assume Yaga was being vigilant, the guilt of not seeing what was happening with Suguru was weighing on him too.
The flick of Shoko’s lighter was heard as you stepped into the morning air, laughter bubbling in your chest as you looked at her. “It was killing you, wasn’t it.” Yaga had been cracking down on her bad habit, trying to limit her by saying no smoking in the dorms. “Just a little.” She teased back, inhaling deeply before blowing the gray smoke past her lips. “Shoko, gimme one.” Your eyebrow cocked as Satoru stuck his hand out. Her eyes met you for a moment before begrudgingly handing the lighter and pack to him. “New habit?” You commented softly, watching as he stuck a cylinder between his lips and held his hand up to block the flame from the wind.
Satoru shrugged, inhaling a bit before blowing out, moving to hand the pack to you. You hesitated, the test in your dorm trash can still lingering in the back of your mind. “I’m good.” You took them anyway, handing them to Shoko. Neither of them said anything but they shared a knowing glance, they couldn’t be mad at you for trying to quit a bad habit. “So where are we going?” You didn’t like the prolonged silence as the two of them puffed away. “I didn’t think you’d want to go anywhere, but if you want we can go get breakfast.” Shoko’s eyes flickered over both you and Satoru, as if she was looking at two temperamental children.
“Breakfast sounds good.” Satoru offered, shoving one hand in his pocket while the other plucked the cig from his lips. “It does.” You added softly, stomach turning at the very thought of food but you couldn’t let them know that. You had lost your appetite shortly after he left, but you still forced yourself to eat at least one substantial meal a day. The nausea that had settled in your gut most days usually deterred you from anything else but plain rice and maybe some soup. Still, it was food and the only thing you could keep down at that. “Alright, I’ll call for a driver and we can go get something to eat.” Shoko pulled out her phone, clicking on a number she saved.
“You’ve been eating, right?” You jumped a little, eyes sliding over to Satoru. His tone was low, just low enough for only you to hear. “Yeah, I’ve been eating… you?” He looked the same, tall and lean with broad shoulders. Satoru nodded, pushing his glasses up to sit on the bridge of his nose. “The car will be at the gates for us in five minutes so let's get going.” Shoko started walking, like always you and Satoru followed behind her like ducklings. Satoru’s question still lingered in your mind, his ability to read your thoughts nearly rivaled Suguru.
You had to wonder just how much those six eyes of his could see.
The three of you clamored into the car, Satoru taking the passenger seat while you and Shoko took the back. You had no idea where you were going, not even when Shoko gave an address to the driver. It was somewhere in the city, you knew that much, but you trusted her judgment and prayed they would have something plain for your stomach. None of you spoke as the car barreled forward, your eyes glued to the surroundings zipping past you, as if you’d catch him walking down the street on a busy morning. You knew you’d always be looking for him, everywhere you went, your eyes would search for him.
You tore your eyes from the window, glancing at Satoru in the passenger seat. You couldn’t see his eyes, but his head was turned towards the window. If you had to guess, he was doing the very same thing. Looking for someone who would never appear. Unless you were Shoko of course, you still felt your throat tighten at the thought. You knew Suguru had chosen to reveal himself to her for a couple reasons. One being that she wasn’t nearly strong enough to take him down single handedly. The other being her easy going nature, he knew there would be little to no conflict or questions to answer with her. If roles were reversed, you’d do the same.
“Hello?” You blinked, looking at Shoko with parted lips. “You okay?” her head tilted, brown eyes lingering over your features. “I… yeah.” You swallowed, the car was still moving so you didn’t space out for that long. “What are you in the mood to eat?” She repeated the question she had asked seconds prior while you were clearly on another plane of existence. “Something plain.” You offered lamely, hands clasping together in your lap. “Plain?” Satoru questioned, eyes shifting to look at you through the rearview mirror. “My stomach has been sensitive. Plain foods are all I can really get down right now.” You shrunk into the seat.
Shoko hummed, eyes observing you intently now. You could almost hear her silently listing all of your physical symptoms, noting in her head the various things that could cause them. Most could be answered with heartbreak, but that didn’t typically make you sensitive to certain foods. Shoko and Satoru knew of Suguru's relationship with you. They knew you were serious about each other, that you often slept in the other’s dorm depending on the day. They knew you went on dates and bought each other gifts. They knew you had long since confessed your love to one another and were not strangers to holding hands when you thought nobody was looking.
It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the two of you slept together as well.
~
“Quiet.” You sunk your teeth into the side of your cheek, struggling to stifle your noises as Suguru’s fingers curled inside of your tight heat. “You don’t want them to hear us, right?” he cooed again, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as he pressed you harder into the empty desk, nearly pushing it into the wall of the classroom with the ferocity of his hunger.
You shook your head, not trusting your voice in that moment to make any coherent sounds. Your nails dug into his bicep, legs splayed hazardously over the sides of the desk as you used your free hand to brace yourself. Two fingers continued to plunge in and out of you, curling perfectly and sucking the air from your lungs as he found that one particular spot.
Suguru watched in fascination, dark eyes glazed over as they flickered between his hand and your face. Each draw back revealed the slick shine of your arousal on his digits, each push forward was accompanied by a squelch. It made his throat tight, arousal making him feel hot all over as he continued to fuck you with his fingers.
“Sugu…” You choked, face warming considerably as you realized how desperate you sounded. “Hmm?” a gentle hum, his fingers burying deep and massaging your walls until your thighs twitched. “I need you.” Your head fell back, hand leaving his bicep to slap over your mouth in an attempt to silence the cry that left you. “You…need me?”
Those words were jarring to him, as if a chain of firecrackers had been ignited under his skin. You nodded, helpless and at his mercy as you prayed Satoru and Shoko wouldn’t wander off to figure out where the two of you had gone. You couldn’t quite comprehend what happened next, the sudden retreat of his fingers left you feeling empty, clearing your foggy mind for a second.
They were quickly replaced with something else, something wet and soft. Your eyes widened considerably when you looked down to see Suguru on his knees, hands gripping the plush of your thighs with his face buried between. He would have given you more if it weren't for his damn pants, he was too impatient to struggle with the high waisted fashion choices he made.
You couldn’t think again, mind immediately fogging over as you focused solely on Suguru’s head between your legs. The flat of his tongue licking up your folds before delving further, bumping your clit with his nose and earning a strangled noise from you. You bit down on your fist now, not hard enough to draw blood but enough to silence yourself for a bit.
Suguru didn’t mind, if anything he wanted them to hear you. He wanted to see the shocked look on Satoru’s face when he realized what was happening. He couldn’t lie, this whole rendezvous had started because of an offhand comment Satoru made. One about how he was likely better at pleasing women than Suguru. You knew that's why you were in here too, you felt like you needed to thank Satoru for pushing Suguru to this point, whether that was his intention or not.
Heat continued to build in your gut, if you could trust yourself to stay balanced you would have let go of the desk and buried your hand in his hair. You wanted to tug the silky black locks from the confines of the bun he always kept them in, watch them cascade around his handsome face and turn messy because of your fingers. Then again, that may make it a little too obvious to your two awaiting friends. “Sugu…”
You gasped, hand flying from your mouth to grab the desk as you nearly lost your balance. Suguru had started to stand, knocking you back as his arms wrapped around your lower half in a bear hug. Suguru was standing at his full height now, your knees bent over his shoulders while only your mid-back and shoulders pressed into the desk. You could have melted into a puddle the moment his eyes met yours, his mouth still pressed firmly to your cunt.
“Suguru…” You choked again, hands moving to grip the sides of the desk for some kind of grounding. You could feel him smirk, eyes burning into yours as his tongue lavished you. It was all too much, too lewd, too risky. Your orgasm was building faster than you anticipated, the tingling arousal shooting down your spine and making your legs tense as he teased you. You came with a choked cry of his name, eyes squeezing shut as you rode out your orgasm.
~
“We’re here.” You blinked, eyes scanning your surroundings as Satoru got out of the car. “Are you sure you’re okay? We can get the food to go and head back to campus.” Shoko’s words were out of concern but her tone was still relaxed. “I’m alright, I could use some time in a busy space.” You lied, the quiet of your dorm room had never sounded so inviting. “Thank you.” You muttered softly to the driver, his small smile told you he was well aware of what was going on. Satoru was already by the front door of the cafe, putting out the butt of his cigarette on a nearby trash can before dropping it in. Shoko did the same, following after you as you entered.
Satoru’s looks tended to come in handy, his glasses sliding down his nose to show the startling blue of his eyes was all that was needed to get the three of you a seat and bypass the wait. “At least you’re good for something.” You teased him, watching him roll his eyes before smiling. “It’s my duty to get the two of you quick service and good food, even if I have to whore myself out.” For some reason, that had laughter bubbling in your chest, the genuine kind. “Such a noble sacrifice.” You laughed, the menu in your hand shaking as your shoulders bounced. You were too distracted to see the way Satoru’s shoulders seemed to sag in relief as he watched you, for a moment it was like nothing had changed.
If it weren't for the gaping, empty space in the booth beside him, he would have been convinced.
“What are you going to get, Shoko?” She was the only one actively looking over the menu. “I’m not sure yet, but they do have some options that would be easy on your stomach.” You weren’t sure why but it made your heart ache just a bit, she had been more concerned over your meal than her own. At the very same time, it made you feel small, like you were a bit of a nuisance for having stomach issues… or whatever they were… in the first place. “Oh, alright.” You focused on the menu, aware of their eyes on you as you tried to find something small but appealing. You settled on tamagoyaki and asked for it to be made on the salty side rather than sweet.
Shoko went for a traditional meal as well while Satoru ventured into their “western” cuisine. His choice sounded so sweet that the thought of it made your teeth hurt. “I don’t know how you do it, Satoru.” you sipped your tea slowly, letting the hot liquid slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. He only shrugged, smiling softly “I’ve yet to find something too sweet for me to handle.” Normally he would have added something flirty but he decided against it. Despite knowing you and Suguru were a couple, it never stopped Satoru’s flirtatious comments. It only bothered Suguru a little bit but he knew his best friend would never cross that kind of line.
“You may go into cardiac arrest before you meet your match, Satoru.” Shoko snorted, sipping her coffee as she took in the surroundings of the busy cafe. For a moment, you wondered if she was doing what you and Satoru had been subconsciously doing for the last three weeks. “I keep waiting for him to appear.” Your tone was just barely above a whisper, as if even bringing up his existence would cause the world to implode around you. “Me too.” Shoko spoke softly, eyes still looking anywhere but the two of you. Satoru kept quiet, face unusually somber as he sipped his coffee. “I think I’ll eventually go insane.”
You tried to sound lighthearted but the crack in your voice gave the opposite effect.
Satoru’s eyes flickered up at that, making your shoulders shrink into the booth. You had quickly come to learn that both of your friends were treating you like fragile porcelain. Though you partially felt the same when talking to them, especially Satoru. Despite the frequent and long nights with each other, little to no words were ever spoken. “I’m fine.” You tried, voice a little stronger than before. “We can talk about these things without falling apart.” It sounded like you were trying to convince yourself more than them. Before anyone could speak, the waiter was walking over with your food, effectively stopping any further discussion.
“Satoru…” You choked as the waiter walked away, eyes focused on the sugary, gooey concoction on the plate before him. “That’s your ticket to the ER.” Shoko was gawking at it too, a bite of food already halfway to her mouth. Satoru, on the other hand, looked like a kid on christmas morning, glasses sliding down his nose with a smile on his face. Your stomach grumbled as he cut into the pancakes, the feeling making you jump just a bit. You actually felt hungry, mouth watering as you looked down at your own plate and moved to take a bite.
Silence fell over the table as you all ate, within minutes half of your food was gone and you were quietly wishing you had ordered something a little bigger.
“You need a napkin.” You laughed softly, handing Satoru your spare napkin so he could wipe the syrup off of his cheek. “Thanks.” For some reason you couldn't help but think he looked like a little kid. For another reason you couldn’t quite explain, it made sadness sink into your shoulders. He should be here with the three of you, eating and laughing and bringing you the comfort you always looked for in him. Your hands shook as you moved to eat more, not willing to let the surge of emotion get rid of the appetite you rarely had nowadays.
As you finished your plate, you felt the bubbling wave of nausea build in your stomach. You inhaled slowly, trying to find a way to ease your worries and keep your food down. “Are you okay? You look a little green.” Shoko eyed you with concern, not even a second later Satoru was signaling the waiter for the check. “Y-yeah… told you my stomach was sensitive. That’s the most I've eaten at once in the last three weeks.” You couldn’t stand the embarrassment of making a scene or wasting money on the food you had just consumed. “I’ll be back.” You slipped out of the booth, your friend’s concerned eyes zeroing in on you as you disappeared for the bathroom.
Luckily for you the bathroom was empty, the fluorescent lights making you flinch as you stumbled to the sink and turned the water on cold. You leaned over it, hands and wrists submerged under the running stream, chest heaving with the effort to remain calm. You were desperate to keep the food down, so desperate you could feel sweat forming on your temple as you tried to focus on anything but the nausea. Suguru’s face flashed through your mind and for a moment you were convinced your knees would give out from under you.
~
“I told you to take it easy.” He huffs softly, fingers running through your hair as he rakes it away from your face. Carefully, he’s looping one of his elastics around your hair to keep it in place. Your head is still buried in the toilet, you had just finished throwing up for the third time in the last hour. “Are you still with me?” His hand is on your back now, rubbing slow but deliberate circles. Feebly you give him a thumbs up, throat burning from the sting of alcohol coming back up.
“You didn’t eat much today and then you went and got shit-faced with Shoko.” Suguru stated the obvious, trying not to scold you because he knew you weren’t doing good right now. “I don’t think you have anything else to puke up, do you want some water?” You lifted your head now, reaching for toilet paper to wipe your mouth. “Water sounds good.” Your voice was weaker than Suguru had expected it to sound, his heart aching a bit as he sat beside you on the bathroom floor.
“I’ll be right back, okay? Just yell if you get scared and I’ll be by your side before you know it.” You nodded, thanking him softly as he got up and disappeared out of your bathroom. You were only seventeen at the time, acting far older than you were and thinking you could get away with it. Now, you are facing the consequences of being naive. Typical for someone your age. Suguru had returned in under two minutes, handing you a glass of room temperature water. “It’ll be easier on your stomach at this temperature.” He chuckled as you grimaced.
He moved to grab a washcloth from your cabinet, turning the sink water on cold. “And this…” he wrung it out twice before turning off the water “will help focus your attention on something other than the nausea.” He placed the cloth on the back of your neck, watching your shoulders sag in relief as something finally cooled your clammy skin. “Thanks, Sugu.”
~
“Sugu… I’m scared.” Your voice was barely audible, tears burning your eyes as you squeezed them shut. Somehow it was working, your pain outshining the nausea as you tried to stop yourself from sobbing in the middle of the restroom. A year had passed since that moment in time, you were only eighteen now and yet you felt as if you had grown a decade. Yet, you were reduced to a scared and crying child because of nausea. Get it together. You forced yourself to straighten, hands slightly numb under the current of cold water.
You forced yourself to make eye contact with your reflection, observing how stark the dark circles were under your eyes. Shoko had been right, you did look a bit green, but it was fading steadily as everything subsided. You let your hands sit under the water for a minute longer before bending over the sink and splashing some on your face. The door to the restroom opened as you straightened again, Shoko was looking at you with worry. “Did you get sick?” you shook your head, turning the water off and reaching for the paper towels.
“Managed to fight it off… for now.”
“Satoru paid already, there is a convenient store a couple shops down. We can get you some nausea meds and a barf bag for the ride back… just in case.” You nodded, smiling a bit. “That would probably be a good idea.” you followed her out of the bathroom and through the restaurant, Satoru was standing on the sidewalk with a new cigarette between his lips. “Damn, you really did develop a new habit.” He only shrugged, inhaling deeply before blowing more out. “I’ll get over it at some point.” Knowing him and his will-power, he probably would.
“I’ll call for the driver, Satoru take her to the convenient store and I’ll catch up.” Satoru nodded, saluting her with a quick “yes ma’am” before grabbing your hand and dragging you along. You didn’t speak until Shoko was out of earshot. “Do you think it’s going to get better?” You appreciated the weight of his hand in yours, though you were certain he could feel how clammy it was. “I think it’ll get more bearable with time.” not better, but tolerable. The thought had your chest feeling heavy as you stepped inside of the small store.
“Nausea meds and barf bags.” Satoru chuckled, reading the signs above each aisle until he spotted one that seemed like a good start. “You’ll have to see a doctor if this doesn’t ease up… how long has it been going on anyways?” You shuffled behind him, arms crossing due to him letting them go a moment prior. “Shortly after he left, after I found the letter.” Only Satoru knew about the letter that had been left behind. How Suguru managed to get back onto campus and leave it in your dorm was beyond him. You had even let him read it, breaking his heart again.
“Shoko!” Satoru called, noticing her walk down the aisle before you could even turn your head. “I’m not good with this stuff, what should we get?” Satoru had already grabbed a box of blue cylindrical barf bags for you but the actual meds were basically foreign to him. “I’ll handle it from here, Satoru. You can wait in the car, he should be upfront by now.” Satoru’s brows furrowed, so did yours, but the look in Shoko’s eyes had him shrugging and handing the box to you. “Alright then, I’ll see ya out there.”
He whistled as he strolled by, your eyes narrowing on Shoko. “What’s this about?” you watched her shuffle through the shelves, picking up one and reading the box before setting it down and moving onto the next. “I don’t know what you mean.” She commented offhandedly, plucking another box and reading it before sighing. “This one should work.” She turned, handing it to you while motioning you to follow her down the aisle. You read it over, nothing out of the ordinary so you truly couldn’t figure out what made this one different from the others.
You stopped short when Shoko did, eyes scanning the aisle and feeling your stomach drop. “Shoko–” You sighed, she was standing in front of the pregnancy tests. “Listen, I know it’s probably the last thing you want to even think about but I think you should take one.” She was grabbing a box of the cheap tests, the same test that was still residing in the trash can of your bathroom. “Shoko, it's not necessary.” You couldn't bring yourself to tell her you already took one, for some reason you couldn’t tell her it was negative either.
“I’ll buy them, and you’ll keep them. If this nausea doesn’t subside in like two weeks, I’m forcing you to take them.” You felt your face burning, clutching the nausea meds tightly in your hands as you looked away from her. “Fine.” You sighed, head tilted at her shoes as you followed her up front to the register. Everything was placed neatly in a brown bag so nobody could see the contents. Once in the car, you popped open the barf bags just to keep one ready in the event your nausea returned full force. “I figured you would forget this.”
You looked up to see Satoru handing you a bottle of water, your lips parting in surprise. “You know me well, Satoru. I did forget.” you took it from him, grabbing the box of nausea meds and ripping them open. You took them and sighed, gulping down water when you realized how thirsty you had been. “If we have nothing else to do today, I think I’ll take a nap.” You were aching for your bed, more tired now than you had been after any missions. “Alright but we’ll wake you up for dinner if we don’t hear from you.” Shoko smiled, cracking the window to light a cig.
“It’s not even 11am yet.” you snorted. “Yeah but you can sleep like the dead when you really need it, if we don’t wake you, you’ll sleep straight through till tomorrow.” You opened your mouth to deny it, about to use your frequent bathroom breaks as an excuse but stopped yourself. Saying that would only confirm the very thing Shoko was suspicious of. “Alright, fine, whatever.” You resigned with a playful huff, arms crossing as you turned to look out the window. Luckily for you, you managed to make it through the ride without needing to use the bag.
“I’ll see you later.” You called after them, waving as you headed for the dorms. They both waved back, finding shade under a tree to enjoy more of the sunny morning. You felt your shoulders sagging with each step, your social battery diminished far faster now that Suguru wasn’t always by your side. You had almost grown a bit too dependent on him, thinking he would be a constant in your life. You inhaled shakily, the brown bag crumbling between your fingers as your emotions bubbled to the surface yet again. You couldn't seem to get yourself to your dorm fast enough, hot tears slipping down your cheeks as you shoved the key in the lock.
It came in heavy waves, making you feel weak as you could only succumb to the sadness festering in your chest. You dropped the bag by the door, kicking off your shoes and shouldering off your uniform jacket. Moving on autopilot, you drew your curtains shut and took off the rest of your clothing, sliding his shirt over your head until you were enveloped in his scent. You were gasping for air by the time your body hit the mattress, curling in on yourself as you sobbed. “I miss you.” You hiccuped, rubbing your eyes as if it would stop the tears.
God dammit, Suguru, why did you have to do this?
You buried your head in your pillow, trying to drown out your own feelings before sadness turned to anger and you ripped your whole room apart because of it.
~
“Stop wiggling so much.” His voice sounded like gravel, rumbling the back of your head as he spoke. “Can’t help it.” You retorted, trying your best to settle into a comfortable position. Suguru had you wrapped in a bear hug, his favorite form of affection, especially since he knew you couldn’t get out of his grasp. His arms were covered in thick muscles, something you initially didn't expect because his uniform and choice of baggy clothing typically hid them.
You could use all your strength and his grip wouldn’t falter.
“Why not?” he mumbled again, if you had to guess, his eyes were closed as he spoke. “Cause it’s warm, Sugu.” you were both laying on top of the covers, little to no clothing on because of the heat and the broken air conditioning that the school was still trying to fix. Nothing but an old fan swiveling side to side to create some sort of relief. Still, Suguru couldn’t sleep unless you were pressed flush to him, warm or not. “It’s not that bad.”
“Oh it absolutely is.” you immediately countered, turning your head back to try and look at him. “It could be way worse.” he tried again, fingers thrumming against your side. “Yeah, it could, but it could also be better. Like if you let me go for example.” You wiggled a bit, trying to create space before he pulled you tightly to him again. “Nice try, it’s not happening.” You groaned, going limp in his arms as he began to laugh. “I could totally make it worse for you.” He added softly, lips ghosting your ear. Despite the heat, you shivered.
“The weirdest things turn you on, Sugu.”
“Hey, it’s not nice to call yourself weird.”
You slapped his arm, earning another rumble of laughter as he moved to hover over you. “C’mon, if I make you sweat, it’ll make the breeze from the fan feel colder.” You rolled your eyes, studying his features as he looked down at you, hair framing his face and ghosting yours. “That’s counterproductive, you know.” Your hands were running up his biceps anyway, moving to wrap around his neck and pull him close to you. “Maybe it is, but you can’t say I’m wrong.”
His head was lowering, giving into your pull with no hesitation. “You’re right, I can’t say you’re wrong. But… I want to.” You smile, pulling him further until your lips melt together. He was radiating warmth, his teeth grazing your bottom lip to ask for entrance. Your lips parted, hands snaking up into his hair and tugging at the strands until he groaned. Suguru braced himself on one hand, making the mattress dip just by your head. The rest of his weight was settled on his knees, caging your hips in so you truly couldn’t get away from him. Not that you wanted too now.
You felt small beneath him, his bare skin radiating warmth as he used his free hand to push your shirt up. You could ignore the heat for the time being, more focused on the steady beating from between your thighs. “Sugu…” You parted with a gasp, watching him lean up and pull you with him, allowing him to drag your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor before pushing you down again. His lips didn’t return to yours, instead they moved to your neck, kissing along your pulse point until you were whining. “Quiet, baby, don’t forget we’re in my room.”
Satoru was asleep next door, that realization set in like ice water being dumped over your head. “Suguru.” You choked as his head dipped lower, licking along your collarbone before moving to one of your breasts. He wasn’t going to answer you, and you knew that for a fact by the way his lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “You’re evil.” You gasped, hand fisting his hair tightly as he scraped his teeth along your breast, nipping at the soft skin. Your other hand found its home on his shoulder, nails scratching lightly as his muscles flexed under your grasp.
You sunk your teeth into your cheek when his lips wrapped around your perked nipple, arousal making it pebble slightly as he sucked. Suguru’s tongue lavished your skin, flicking the bud until your back was arching into his touch. It wasn’t nearly enough, your breath coming out in short pants as you tried to pry him off and focus on your other breast. “These would look so pretty if they were full of milk.” You choked, eyes wide as he looked up at you through his lashes. “Don’t you think?” You couldn’t breathe for a moment, stunned into silence by his comment.
“C’mon baby, don’t act so shocked.” He cooed softly, the tip of his tongue trailing up your sternum. He didn’t stop until he reached your lips, kissing them softly before dipping his head again. His hand toyed with the breast he had just teased endlessly, brown eyes observing the rate of your breathing before lowering onto your other breast. He repeated the same motions, nipping and sucking the senstive skin until you were squirming from the wetness between your legs.
“You haven't answered me, sweetheart.”
“B-because I don’t know how to answer that, Sugu.” You knew exactly what he was implying, but you couldn’t form a coherent response for him. “You just have to tell me if you agree, it’s pretty simple.” He chuckled, pushing himself up to look down at you. Your hands fell to your sides, his neck just out of your reach. “Just think about it, pretty girl.” You watched him, completely entranced as he pulled his briefs down and his erection sprang free. “Because I’ve been thinking about it a lot.”
“You have?” You sat up a bit, fingers shakily pulling off your own underwear to save time. “I have.” He confirmed, cheeks turning a shade of red that you could see even in the moonlight. His hand slid along his length, spreading the precum drooling from his tip while his boxers rested at his mid-thigh. “Take those off, Sugu.” You smiled a bit, reaching for the waistband and pulling them taut before letting them snap back against his thigh. “So demanding.” He snorted, letting himself go to push the material off, tossing it to the floor just as you had done with your underwear.
“So are you, demanding an answer for something so…so…” you couldn’t find the right words, not when his eyes were on you, devouring you whole. “…so what? How does it make you feel?” He redirected, pumping himself leisurely as your thighs fell open for him, still supporting yourself on your elbows as you waited. “How does what make me feel?” A stupid question but you were still reeling from the initial statement. Suguru laughed, hand still gliding over his length as he sat on his knees.
“How does it feel knowing I think about getting you pregnant… all the fucking time.” You couldn’t deny the thought made you feel hot, hotter than you felt from the heat and arousal mixing. Like molten lava was running its way through your bloodstream. “F-feels fucking…” you squirmed a bit, legs moving to close involuntarily until his hand shot out and stopped them. “Go on, pretty girl. Tell me.” You sat up, glaring at him with warm cheeks. “How about you fuck me. Then, maybe, I’ll tell you how I feel about your little fantasies.” Suguru groaned, head falling forward for a moment.
“Sounds like a good deal to me.” He moved forward, pressing you back into the mattress as he pulled your thighs towards him. Your lips found his neck, sucking on it harshly as he ran the dull head of his cock between your slick folds. You let him move you however he pleased, your legs being pushed almost painfully to your chest as he pressed into you. You gasped in unison, his cock stretching you open easily despite no prep. “Shit…” his head fell forward again, nearly bumping yours as he bottomed out, no space left between the two of you.
Suguru stayed in place, eyes shut as he focused on the way your walls fluttered and squeezed around him, unable to stay still. Your nails dug into his scalp, pulling a groan from his lips as you tried to relax but couldn’t. He was big, bigger than any fling or partner you had in the past. No matter how easily your cunt accepted him, it still stung for the first few seconds. You had grown to love the deep ache, the weight of him inside you, the way his tip would brush your cervix depending on the position. Like now, with your legs pressed so tightly to your body.
“Can I move?” his voice was soft, eyes peering into your own once he gained his composure. “Y-yeah.” You breathed out, the feeling of his hands on your skin still sent shockwaves of arousal through you. Especially when his grip tightened, bracing himself on you as he drew his hips back half way before rolling into you again. You moaned, eyes squeezing shut as Suguru found his rhythm, hips meeting yours with a soft slap. “D-Don’t forget Satoru is…” You wailed softly, pleasure building quickly as he moved. “I know…”
But the smirk on his face told you he no longer cared, he’d gladly listen to his white-haired best friend bitch and moan in the morning about being woken up by you. Suguru’s rhythm only sped up, hips angling perfectly to brush along that one particular spot as he thrust into you, cock head brushing your cervix every few thrusts until your vision was blurring. The pleasure ebbing through your body was more than enough to block out how uncomfortable your current position was.
A wet squelch started to emit between your legs, loud enough to be heard over the drone of the fan as Suguru pounded into you. “So…” he started, voice strained as sweat dripped down his temple. “... can you tell me how it makes you feel now?” You blinked, awestruck that he was still hooked on getting an answer from you. “S-suguru…” you whined, head falling further into the pillows. “I’m not letting it go…ha… Tell me how it makes you feel.” he ground out, hips slowing just a bit. When you didn’t speak, he pressed more of his weight into you so one hand could break free.
You moaned, loud and unrestrained as his fingers ghosted across your swollen clit, the sudden contact making you see stars. “Tell me how it makes you feel.” he repeated, watching your face go slack as his fingers and hips worked in tandem. “Makes me hot…” You admitted with a heavy breath, eyes struggling to focus on him. “I want you to do it, Sugu… fuck me till I’m pregnant.” The look on his face had you shrinking further into the mattress, an almost animalistic look taking over his eyes as he stopped moving all together. “Say it again.”
“I want you to fuck me ‘til I’m pregnant, Suguru.”
~
You woke up in a sweat, gasping for air as you stumbled out of bed and barreled to the bathroom. You couldn’t stop the nausea this time, knees hitting the tile floor with bruising force as you heaved into the toilet. You hadn’t even remembered falling asleep, but your dream was enough to send you into a death spiral. Tears burned your eyes as the little bit of breakfast you hadn’t digested came back up. Luckily for you, you had slept long enough that your food from this morning wasn’t a total loss. Nothing more than bile was left as you finally calmed down.
You reached for toilet paper, wiping your tears and blowing your nose until you could at least breath without difficulty. Aching, you got up, flushing the toilet and washing your hands and face. You had no idea what time it was but you assumed it wasn’t late enough for dinner if Shoko never came to wake you up. At least that’s what you thought as you stumbled back into your dorm room slightly sweaty. That’s odd… The sun had begun to set just beyond your window, your eyes flickering to your alarm clock. 7:23pm stared back at you in big red numbers.
I slept for over eight hours? You looked for your phone, seeing the missed text from Shoko.
Shoko: I decided against waking you up, I figured you could use the sleep. Just text me when you’re awake and I can bring you dinner
You were partially grateful for her decision, your face still warm as your dream lingered in your mind. Dreaming of the past, how cliche. You sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. You had woken up so suddenly, adrenaline blocking out the sleepiness at first. Now, your body seemed to thrum with a dull ache, the headrush coming back around to kick you while you were down. You reached over to turn on the small lap residing on your nightstand, eyes squinting for a moment as you adjusted. Your eyes focused on the brown bag from earlier, the one you discarded on your floor after coming back.
You knew there was water in there still, so you got up and grabbed it, looking at the bag contents in disdain. You emptied it on your desk, nausea meds, barf bags and the box of pregnancy tests. You studied then as you gulped down some of the water, easing the burn in your throat. The pregnancy tests Shoko had insisted on were identical to the one you took this morning. Weirdly enough you wished she had grabbed the more expensive digital ones. That way you wouldn't have to strain yourself trying to figure out if a second line was present or not.
“Fuck it.” you sighed, dropping the now empty water bottle in the small barrel you kept beside your desk. You still had one more test in the box from this morning, you’d take another one just because of the memories lingering on your mind. Your face felt warm as you recalled that particular night from a few months back. Suguru had been pretty adamant after that, fucking you raw and in ernest with every intention of knocking you up. You, stupidly, let him because you love him and loved the idea of having a family with him. “Idiot.”
You scolded yourself again, ripping the foil wrapper and tossing it in your trash with the now empty box. You went through the same process as you did that morning, peeing into a cup and dipping the absorbent end into it for ten seconds before capping it and discarding the rest of the contents. You forced yourself to leave the bathroom this time, convinced it would make time go by faster. The text Shoko had sent was still left unanswered, you couldn’t even bring yourself to feel hungry at that moment in time.
You’d text her in a little while though, or else she’d likely come breaking your door down thinking you had run away. Just then, your phone vibrated with the ringtone you had set for Satoru. You grabbed it, flipping it open to see what he had to say. On the screen there was a message from him, asking if you wanted to hang out on the rooftop to watch the stars later on. You smiled a bit, it was rare for Satoru to ask things so formally. You clicked out a message, telling him yes and that you could use some fresh air.
It took him no time at all to send a happy emoticon, one that had you rolling your eyes as you typed back that you’d meet him at his dorm when you were ready. You backed out of the chat, eyes lingering on a particular contact, your message to him was naturally left unanswered. You had given up texting Suguru’s number when the messages no longer got delivered. You figured he’d discard his phone, throw away any direct contact he had with the three of you. You snapped your phone shut a moment later, you’d text Shoko after you got dressed.
Opening your closet was still proving to be a bit difficult, especially as your fingers trailed over the material of the clothing Suguru had kept in your room. They smelt like the laundry detergent he used as well as his cologne, it took your breath away for a moment. You forced yourself away, grabbing some comfortable clothes that were actually yours before shutting the door. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to discard his clothing, despite knowing he wasn’t coming back to you.
You pulled his shirt over your head, grabbing your own and replacing it. You pulled on a pair of shorts after, rubbing your face with your hands as you looked at your appearance in the mirror. No amount of sleep seemed to help the dark circles under your eyes or the sickly look to your complexion. You could only hope Satoru was right, with time it would become more manageable. You glanced at your alarm clock, 7:48pm stared back at you now. The sky outside your window had turned indigo, the sun minutes away from being completely out of sight. The summer was coming to an end, filling your chest with melancholy.
You couldn’t stand being alone in that moment, grabbing your phone and shoving it in your pocket as you made a beeline for your door. You made your way down the hall, remembering as you passed Shoko’s dorm that you needed to text her. Stopping in your tracks, you figured it would just be easier to see her in person. “Shoko?” you called, fingers tapping the door softly because she hated when people knocked too loud. “Coming.” You heard her rustling around her room before the door opened, a half smoked cigarette hanging from her lips.
“Thought Yaga told you no smoking inside.”
“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him, and my window is open.”
You smiled, “I’m hanging out with Satoru on the roof if you wanna join us.” Shoko exhaled, puffing just a bit of smoke in your direction. “I’d love to but I spent the whole afternoon with him ‘cause you were sleeping.” You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck “my bad.” but Shoko was waving you off. “Don’t apologize, you need sleep… I’ll trust Satoru to feed you if you’re hungry.” She smiled as you rolled your eyes “Alright alright, enjoy the rest of your bad habit and I’ll take Satoru duty.” The look in Shoko’s eyes made your smile falter for just a moment.
They looked oddly wistful, but it vanished just as quickly as your smile faltered. “Aye aye captain.” Shoko started to shut the door as you turned to leave, watching you go for just a moment before shutting it completely. “Satoru.” You drawled, banging on his door so you could be heard over the music he was playing. “Oi, keep it down!” the door swung open a moment later, a cheeky grin on his face as he looked at you. “Ready to go?” He looked cozy in an oversized black hoodie and sweats, sunglasses resting on top of his head.
“Sure am.” you returned his smile, the ache in your chest easing just a bit. It was more bearable when you had someone who understood the pain you felt deeper than surface level. You watched him turn, shutting off his music and the lights before stepping into the hallway. “Are we going to take the normal way or are you going to test out your blue?” Satoru’s eyes seemed to sparkle as you suggested he use his curse technique. “If you insist on blue…” You couldn’t even make a sound as his arm wrapped around your waist, hauling you off of your feet.
In the blink of an eye, you were exposed to the cooling night air. “Damn.” You laughed as he set you down, shuffling over to the small lock box you kept up here with spare blankets and, as Shoko claimed, “necessities”...Which were just two cartons of emergency cigarettes. “Didn’t disorient you, right?” Satoru was standing on the edge, observing the glow of the city in the distance. “Not even a little, you’ve improved a lot, Satoru.” your back was turned to him, so you missed the way his eyes widened slightly, cheeks turning pink.
“Thanks”
You turned back to him, blankets in hand. “So…” You walked over to where he was standing, taking a seat just before the edge and letting your legs dangle off. “...So?” Satoru looked down at you, watching you settle. “Why did you want to come up here… I’d love to gaze at the stars but it’s not like we’ll actually see any with all the light pollution.” Satoru sighed, dropping down to squat beside you. “I guess I just wanted your company… ya know since you’re probably the only other person that understands this.” his tone was awkward, it wasn’t often that you were sentimental… or serious for that matter… with each other.
“Your welcome to have my company any time, Satoru. I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you.” It was so heartfelt it made you feel strange. “Sorry.” You added, a bit meeker than before when he stiffened a bit. “Don’t be sorry, just not used to being so… serious with you.” He sat fully now, shoulder brushing yours as a silent invitation for you to rest your head. You did, just as you always had, watching the lights of the city a few miles away. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” You spoke in a gentle tone, hoping he knew what you meant.
“It is. Knowing he’s there, that he’s okay… while we’re sitting here sulking like idiots.” There was a small bite to his tone as he finished, one that quickly left when he exhaled. “It pisses me off.” It made you upset too, anger bubbling in the back of your mind like a pot of boiling water that was going to overflow at any second. “It pisses me off too, because I truly can’t understand it. I’ve killed myself over the last three weeks trying to understand, to make sense of it. I can’t and I don’t think I ever will. But it’s not my place to reason with it, you know?”
Satoru was silent, waiting for you to continue. “It’s not my life, it’s his. I tried for months to get it out of him, I tried so goddamn hard to get him to open up and he never did. Always redirecting, always avoiding.” You sounded defeated by the end, blinking away the tears that blurred your vision so you could regain composure. “Why didn’t you come to me?” Satoru questioned softly, letting your words sink in like an anchor.
“He gave you so many signs, Satoru. If you couldn’t see them, it wasn’t my place to assist.”
Satoru felt like that should have made him angry, but it didn’t. Mostly because you were right, it had been obvious from the start but he had naively pushed them to the side, pretending it wasn’t true. He was just as much at fault, if anything he was willing to shoulder all of the blame. Because at least you tried. He couldn’t say the same, and he knew that far too well. “Suguru made up his mind the moment he entered that village. There is no stopping a man who is set in their resolve. You said it yourself, Satoru. He looked healthier, happier, content.”
Satoru took in a shaky breath, leaning into you just as you leaned into him. “I just don’t get why he needed to kill his parents.” Your eyes closed, that was the thought weighing heaviest on your mind. “He needed to prove to himself that he was doing the right thing. That nobody, not even his parents, were an exception to his newfound ideology.” It killed you to say it, especially since you had met his parents last winter break. They were kind, at least his mother was. His father was a bit colder but there was still an undeniable love for his son. They had welcomed you so openly, they were proud of the son they had raised.
Now they were gone, nobody but Suguru was to blame.
“In a fucked up way, I don’t care that he killed those people.” The words felt bitter on your tongue, but his letter flashed through your mind and for a moment you understood him. Those two little girls, beaten and caged, scared and facing death for things they never did. Hell, had you gone on the mission with him, you may have encouraged his choices. That realization felt weird as it settled in your gut. “I… I don’t really care either.” Satoru admitted softly, thinking back over the last year, thinking about Amanai. He had been seconds away from doing the same thing.
But Suguru had been his voice of reason, stopping him with a simple command. It should have been obvious then, that Suguru’s life was completely altered from that moment forward. “It was so obvious.” He hissed softly, head falling forward just a bit as anger squeezed his heart. “There is nothing we can do now, Satoru. Nothing we can do will reverse the damage that has been done.” You wished you could believe your own words, part of you wanted to catch a train into the city and barrel into that religious group he took over.
You weren’t even sure what you’d do if you did. Hit him, yell at him? Crumple into his arms like the sucker you were. Maybe a mix of all three, no, it would definitely be a mix of all three. You couldn’t help but wonder how he would react if he saw you again. He made it clear in his letter that he loved you, he still loved you, he would always love you. If you made the choice to leave, would he welcome you in with open arms. Or was he resenting you already for not doing so sooner. Was he waiting for you? Or was it nothing more than sweet-talk.
“You’re not breathing.” Satoru muttered softly, tilting his head just a bit to look down at you. “Oh…” You inhaled deeply, laughing a bit as you exhaled “got lost in thought.” You felt Satoru relax again, head resting against yours. “I get it.” You fell into a comfortable silence, watching as the sky steadily turned from a deep blue to pitch black. There, if you squint hard enough, you could make out a couple of sparkling stars.
You knew if you asked, Satoru could probably whisk you somewhere far away. Somewhere clear so you could actually see the stars with no obstructions.
Yet you were too comfortable, too warm.
Sitting where you were now was more than enough for the time being. That feeling of content actually took the air from your lungs for a moment, blinking steadily as you took in your surroundings. There was a fleeting moment where your heart felt light, that aching heaviness that had been plaguing it for the last three weeks wasn’t present. You wondered quietly if Satoru felt it too. Given the way his body seemed completely relaxed into yours, you assumed he did.
~
You were stumbling down the hall like a drunkard. Your mind felt numb as you moved, head tilted down and expression blank. If anyone were to cross your path at that given moment, they probably would have been unsettled by the sight of you. A zombie moving on autopilot, your brain moving so quickly that it had reduced everything to a quiet, droning buzz.
Murder. 112 people. His parents too. He’s gone. He snapped. He’s a murderer. Suguru is gone.
Nothing made sense, not a single bit of the information you had received made any sense. The fact that Suguru wasn’t answering your frequent texts wasn't making sense. The fact that you had woken up to an empty bed wasn’t making sense. The fact that people were telling you Suguru, your Suguru, had taken over a hundred lives in the span of one night wasn’t making any fucking sense.
Your knees nearly gave out the moment your hand met the wood of your door, pushing it open so quickly it slammed into the wall with a loud thud before coming back at you. Not that you cared, at that moment you could be set on fire and you wouldn’t blink an eye.
You stood in the middle of your dorm room, eyes scanning the room as if it were something foreign. Nothing was making sense, not even your bed looked like your own. It was the pressure cracking down on you already, sinking its claws into your shoulders and forcing you to your knees as the weight of your new reality hit you like a freight train. You couldn’t even bring yourself to cry in that moment, too shell shocked over the report Yaga had read to you and Satoru.
Satoru.
You had stumbled away shortly after the report was finished, barely registering the way he had started to yell. You hadn’t looked back, but it wasn’t like either of them tried to stop you. Despite having just stumbled away from him, you found yourself moving to leave and find him again. At least you would have if your knees didn’t give out on you. You gasped, more out of surprise than pain as your legs made contact with the wooden floor. You sat there for a moment, arms feeling equally as weak as you pushed yourself into a sitting position.
You felt your chest tighten, every breath felt strangled as you tried to inhale. A cold sweat seemed to cover your skin, fingers shaking slightly as you pushed your hair from your face. You couldn’t move, completely paralyzed by shock. It felt like your heart was shattering, every shaky inhale deepening the wound. Still, your tears would not come. Not even as black spots began to obstruct your vision, chest heaving as you began to hyperventilate.
Despite your body vibrating in distress, you felt a nearly silent calm. Like someone had flicked off the switch and stole your ability to hear.
Nothing and everything all at once.
~
“Hey? Y/N wake up…” You jumped a bit, hand coming up to touch the wetness on your cheeks. “You were crying in your sleep.” Satoru muttered softly, hand smoothing over your hair as he cradled you. “I-I was?” You didn’t even realize the change in position or the change in scenery. You were no longer sitting by the roof’s edge, instead you were sitting in Satoru’s lap, his arms holding you tightly as he looked at you with worry.
“You were.” he confirmed, letting you go just as you woke up fully. “Sorry for worrying you, I was just thinking about him… it’s so strange. I’ve been having such intense dreams of the past… I've had dreamless sleep for the last three weeks… so why now?” Satoru sighed, watching you get up to stand and stretch your limbs. “I don’t know. I’ve been having odd dreams about him but I don’t really remember how most of them go by the time I wake up.”
“It’s the universe’s way of torturing us… as if we haven’t been tortured enough. Wait, how long have I been asleep?” The temperature had dropped significantly, the moon was shining high in the sky now. “About an hour or so, I was actually going to bring you back inside but you started to cry and… well here we are now.” Satoru got up, stretching dramatically as you sighed. “You’d think after sleeping for eight hours I wouldn't be tired.”
You walked to the edge of the roof again, feet pressing firmly to the ledge as you looked down. “Being depressed will suck the soul out of you.” For some reason you couldn’t help but laugh. “You seem pretty wide awake, Satoru.” He joined you on the ledge, pushing you a bit to the side. Your training gave you quick reflexes so you didn’t flinch when he did it. “Oh please, you know I’m right.” You glanced at him, laughing softly.
“You are, but so am I. We can be depressed morons together.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, earning another laugh as you punched his shoulder. “Touche, Gojo”
“Yuck, never call me that again.” His face had morphed into a scowl as you used his last name. He never liked hearing you call him anything other than Satoru. “Fine.” you crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling the cool air. “I think I’m gonna go shower and maybe make something small for dinner… Just so Shoko doesn’t string the two of us up on a lamppost.” Satoru nodded, watching you step off the ledge and move about the roof to put the blankets away.
“I’ll accompany you.” he jumped down, trailing behind you as you moved to open the door that would bring you downstairs. “In the shower? I’m flattered but–” the way his eyes rolled were enough to stop you mid-sentence. “Joking, Satoru.” he sighed out an “I know” closing the distance to haul you up. “Using the stairs is boring.” Within the blink of an eye, you were back inside and standing in front of your dorm room.
“Text me when you’re done showering and we can go get food.”
You nodded, one of the perks of attending school in Tokyo was the fact that the city never slept. You could go find a place to eat at three in the morning and they’d still serve you hot food. Your body sagged against the door of your dorm after shutting it. Flicking on the lights lit the room in a warm, golden glow. For the last three years you considered your room a sanctuary, it was your happy place after a long day of training. Now, it feels oddly cold.
You walked over to your dresser, pulling the top drawer open to grab a fresh pair of underwear and pajamas for after. You tossed them on your bed, reaching down for your bottom drawer to grab a particular towel you liked. It didn’t take you long to put your hair up, not in the mood to wash it just yet, and head to the bathroom. You squinted a bit as the nearly white fluorescent lights filled the room, if you had your way you’d change them to something softer.
It took all of five seconds for your world to come crashing down around you again, eyes zeroing in on the pregnancy test sitting on your counter. I fucking forgot about it…
You set your towel down on the counter, holding your breath as you took the step and reached for the test. You gave yourself no time to prepare, eyes scanning the results once before it hit you like a ton of bricks. You dropped it, letting it clatter on the porcelain counter as a jagged sob ruptured from your chest. Your hand came up to cover your mouth, the other resting on your chest, your heart thumping so wildly you were certain it would burst.
There, on the test, were two lines. It was positive.
You nearly fell forward, dropping down to the trash can beside your sink and rummaging through it without hesitation. Your fingers wrapped around the plastic test from this morning, yanking it up and looking at the results again. There, on the initial test from that morning, were two lines. You didn’t drop it this time, eyes staring at the results as if they’d change. Positive, this whole time it had been positive. You just hadn’t let the first test develop long enough.
“When… How…” You uttered softly, the logical part of your brain screaming at you to be realistic for a second rather than acting so surprised. The irrational side of your brain was still reeling from the revelation. As if Suguru hadn’t been adamant in trying to knock you up for months. “You fucking bastard… you get your way and leave me with the aftermath.” You were struggling, there was no way you’d be able to pinpoint when it happened until you found out how far along you were. For some reason, that was what made reality really set in.
Hot tears streaked your face, sobbing so harshly that it felt like your lungs would collapse on you. You moved in a blur, legs carrying you out of your dorm and down the hall until you were pushing open Satoru’s door. “Woah there, sounds like someone’s hun…” He looked up, the teasing tone in his voice dropping immediately when he saw the tears streaming down your face. “What the fuck happened? Are you hurt?” Satoru crossed the room in two long strides, hands cupping your face as your lips wobbled.
You couldn’t get the words out, crying harder as he ran his hands over you searching for some type of wound. “C’mon, what happened?” His tone had more of a bite to it than he intended but you were causing panic to seep through his veins. You couldn’t breathe, legs nearly buckling under the weight of your reality. Satoru seemed to catch this, hands shooting out to support you as he brought both of you to the floor. “Y/N, please.” he urged you, throat feeling tight.
You shook your head, still sobbing as you raised your hand meekly, the positive pregnancy test out in the open for him to see. Blue eyes widened significantly when he saw it, he didn’t even need to see the two lines to understand why you were so hysterical. “Oh…oh.” he swallowed, hand shakily taking the test from your hand to look at it. “Oh fuck.” it was just barely above a whisper, arm holding you just a little tighter as you cried into his chest.
At least part of you was aware of the possibility, Satoru on the other hand felt completely blindsided. “You two didn’t use protection?” He uttered softly, rocking you slightly without thinking as your cries continued, you couldn’t think at that moment, unable to calm yourself down. You managed to shake your head in response, unable to feel embarrassed as you admitted to not using condoms when with Suguru. “Fuck… did you ever use protection with him?”
He knew the answer, of course he fucking knew the answer. Suguru was utterly obsessed with you, so in love it was nearly nauseating. You shook your head again, confirming that you’d never once used protection with him. “Hey… c’mon…” he started softly when your body shook with the force of your cries but you were no longer making any sounds. He wanted to say it would be alright but he wasn’t sure if it would be.
That answer relied on you.
He couldn’t expect you to be alright, you had your heart broken three weeks prior by the man who often talked about proposing to you as soon as you all graduated. If those were the kind of conversations Suguru was having with him, he couldn’t imagine the conversations Suguru had been having with you. Well, that was a bit of a lie. Considering your reaction to the test results, it seemed this was a long sought after goal. Your cries were from heartbreak, not fear.
~
“I’ve been looking at rings.” Satoru glanced up, noodles dangling half way from his lips. “Hah?” He watched Suguru grimace a bit, some broth splattering as Satoru questioned him. “I’ve been looking at rings for Y/N.” Suguru stated again, a little more cautiously now, watching Satoru slurp the rest of the noodles into his mouth. “Suguru, we haven’t even entered our third year.”
“I know, but…” he shrugged, unable to formulate the right way to say it. “...But? You’re not even eighteen yet, neither is she.” It wasn’t that Satoru didn’t think it was okay, he just figured you were both way too young to even fathom those things. “I don’t intend on proposing to her until we’ve graduated. Listen I know it seems fast but…” Suguru's hands fidgeted with his utensils for a moment, eyes avoiding Satoru until he was ready.
“I love her, Satoru. I didn’t even think it was possible to love someone as much as I love her.”
Satoru blinked, a bit taken back by such a bold declaration over a bowl of cheap ramen. “I’m not doubting that you love her, Suguru. I just think it’s a bit crazy to think about these things so young.” Suguru sighed, watching Satoru with weary eyes as he moved to eat more noodles.
“We’re sourcers, Satoru. A long life isn’t guaranteed.”
~
“Breathe, please. You’re going to pass out.” Satoru’s hand was slapping your back as you coughed, the tears had finally begun to slow but you still weren’t able to form a coherent sentence. “Please…” he tried again, watching you try your best to take a deep breath. It was followed by another, this time it wasn’t superficial. After a couple more, you were able to rub the tears from your eyes and look at him without blurry vision.
“S-satoru I’m so so-sorry.” you hiccuped, your throat feeling raw from your crying. “You have nothing to apologize for, stop feeling like you have to apologize for everything you do.” he let you go a bit, motioning for you to get up with him and sit on his bed rather than the floor. He watched you crawl under his covers, curling up against his pillows, sniffling softly. Despite the weight of the conversation you were about to have, Satoru couldn’t help but chuckle.
He crawled onto his bed as well, sitting beside you but above the covers. “So… I guess the best place to start is… how did this happen. By that I mean, was it intentional?” You sighed, toying with the end of his pillow case as you spoke. “Suguru had been trying to get me pregnant for months now.” You felt warmth flood your cheeks, it felt awkward admitting something like that. “I knew the bastard had a breeding kink.” Satoru said it more to himself than you, but that didn’t stop the shrill yell of his name as you slapped his arm.
“I’m being honest! He just seemed like the type.” Satoru shrugged, holding back laughter as you rolled your eyes and settled back into sulking. “I shouldn’t be so blindsided by this, but it’s fucking ironic that he got what he wanted after he fucking left me… us.” you corrected softly, feeling selfish for being so focused on yourself when Satoru was hurting too. “The universe knows how to play cruel jokes, I’ve thought that my whole life. But, that’s beside the point. We can’t sit here and sulk over it, we need to talk about what to do next.”
You looked up at Satoru, eyes red from crying. It hurt his heart, you looked like a kicked puppy. In that moment he realized how heavily he relied on Suguru, because even now he found himself itching to grab his phone and call him for advice. What was worse, you were now looking to him for help, when really he was just as scared as you. “The next logical step is I need to find a doctor who can run a blood test and confirm the store bought tests are accurate. After that, they need to tell me how far along I am so I can pinpoint when this happened.”
Satoru nodded, you’d both have to fill in Shoko in the morning, she’d be able to help with all the medical bits. “I… I know this seems a bit invasive so please don’t take offense… but are you going to keep it?” Satoru fidgeted a bit, eyes watching as you seemed to zone out and think. Your initial answer was yes, of course, but were you really capable of raising a baby on your own? Then again, you didn’t think you could stomach giving them away for adoption, and you certainly didn’t want to get rid of them. Not after you chased this goal for months, regardless of the way things were right now. “Yeah, as terrifying as it is, I want this baby, Satoru.”
“Okay, so we got two of the biggest things out of the way. Now, the hardest…” you huffed as he trailed off, you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to answer the next question. “What do we do about Suguru, that’s what you’re going to say, right?” It was Satoru’s turn to huff now, nodding as he looked away from you to stare at his hands.
“He… he needs to know.”
“No the fuck he doesn’t.”
You both stared at each other, completely scandalized by the other’s response. “Satoru… He needs to know… he…he’s the fucking dad? How am I supposed to jus–” Satoru shook his head, hands coming up to rub his face before letting them fall back to his lap. “Suguru is a fucking criminal now, he murdered people. Hundreds of people I should fucking remind you and you just want to waltz back into his fucking life and tell him that shit?” You sat up now, eyes burning holes into his skull as you waited for him to at least look at you. “Do you hear yourself?”
You were seething, that same anger you held for Suguru leaving was now bubbling at Satoru for uttering his name like it was pure filth. Satoru stiffened, eyes turning to glare at you. But, every ounce of anger seemed to drain from his body when he saw nothing but hurt glowing in your tired and puffy eyes. “I fucking get it, Satoru. I know what Suguru did but fuck, how am I supposed to just get over him? How am I supposed to carry his child for nine months and push it out of my body just to raise it on my fucking own and never tell him? He’s the one that wanted this in the first place!” Tears glossed your eyes over, hands shaking as they fisted in his sheets.
His mouth opened before closing again, eyes looking away from you because he knew he'd never be able to try and talk sense into you when you looked at him like that. “And what if the child is unable to see curses?” he sounded defeated. “What then, Y/N? What if you give birth to this baby and they lack the ability to see them? That baby would be the very thing Suguru hates.” You froze, it felt like someone had poured ice water down the back of your neck. “If he didn’t spare his own parents, he won’t spare his own child.” Satoru swallowed, looking like he wanted to say so much more but didn’t. He let the words hang there, heavy and dark.
The silence stretched on between the two of you, mostly because you knew he was right. Just because both parents had the ability to see into the curse world and use curse energy, it didn’t guarantee that their offspring would also carry the same blessing. You blinked, hand subconsciously moving to rest over your stomach, as if it would do anything to protect them. “Suguru he… he wouldn’t…” Your words were weak and at that moment Satoru couldn’t bring himself to really fight with you. “But he would, y/n that’s the fucking issue, he would.” his voice was breaking, unsure if he should say what he wanted to say next.
“Then what am I going to do?” You were going to dissolve, tears burning your eyes again as the harsh reality began to sink in. “Let me help you, let me help you raise the baby. I can easily provide for the two of you.” He turned to look at you now, eyes burning with such intensity it stole the air from your lungs. “What?” you hadn’t meant for it to sound offended, you were shocked to say the least, but still the hurt that flashed through his features made you feel the urge to reach out and hug him. “Satoru I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh…” You moved forward, arms wrapping tightly around his neck and hugging him.
It took a second but his arms came up to wrap around your middle, holding you tightly. “It’s okay, it was a bold statement to make so suddenly.” he soothed you when really you felt that you should be the one soothing him. “No it’s fine, really it just caught me by surprise and…” you hugged him a little tighter, burying your face in his neck. For a moment you nearly stiffened, that was something you usually did to seek comfort from Suguru. In that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away, finding comfort in Satoru’s reassuring embrace. “You don’t have to answer me tonight.” He hushed you, hand coming up to smooth your hair as he kept you close. “I doubt you have an appetite now, how about we just sleep?”
“I still need to shower.” You pulled away, laughing softly when you remembered what you had been in the process of doing before your world flipped. “Okay, then go and shower but please come back to me when you’re done.” His tone was quiet, something in it held no room for you to disagree. So, you let go of him reluctantly, nodding as you crawled over him to stand. “Again, you don’t have to answer me tonight, or tomorrow, or even next week. But please, think about what I said.” He stayed on his bed, watching you shakily grab the pregnancy test before heading for his door. “I will, Satoru. Keep my spot warm.” you smiled at him over your shoulder, heart still heavy as you disappeared through the open door.
The hot water on your skin wasn’t enough to wash away the dread growing in your chest. You found your hands absentmindedly running along your abdomen, still finding it hard to believe something was there, something that would grow into a living breathing human in a few months time. A mix of you and Suguru, how strange. This wasn’t how you imagined it would happen, nor were these the feelings you expected to experience when the time came. If anything, it made you more upset. You should be happy, you should be fucking estatic. You should be basking in the euphoric state of knowing you’d be having a child with the man you adored.
Instead, you had sobbed in the arms of his best friend, completely hysterical. And the man you loved had no idea you were even pregnant, that the very thing he wanted had been achieved and he wouldn’t even get to know. At least not yet. You had taken Satoru’s words into consideration, of course you did. But in the back of your mind, you knew there was no way you’d be able to go on with your life without ever telling Suguru. He would know, he would know of his child, you were already set on that. You twisted the knob, the water turning off a second later as you got out and dried yourself off a bit before wrapping the towel around you.
Your body was aching from the events of the last few hours. Returning to Satoru’s room and sleeping in his warm bed sounded like heaven to you. Sleeping next to someone again felt like heaven to you. You had to wonder what Suguru would think if he knew you were sharing his best friend’s bed – albeit nothing sexual was occuring between the two of you. And even then, Suguru had broken up with you in that letter, you were technically no longer his. The thought made you feel sick as you reached for the clothing you had laid on your bed. You pulled the shorts on first, reaching for the oversized shirt second, trying to ignore the nausea building in your gut.
You moved around your room without thinking, flicking the lights off before heading out the door and back down the hall. Satoru had changed into his own pajamas, hair damp from the shower he must have taken while you went to take yours. He only had his bedside lamp on, the pace beside him vacant and waiting for you. “Are you sure you don’t want food?” he questioned softly as you shut the door behind you. “I’ll eat a good breakfast if my morning sickness allows.” Those words felt foreign, referring to your nausea as morning sickness felt so bizarre. “Alright but if you wake up in the middle of the night starving don’t hesitate to wake me up.”
You laughed softly, huffing out an “okay” as you crawled over him and under the covers once more. Satoru pulled the blankets up over both of you before reaching over and flicking off the light. “Goodnight.” he spoke softly, settling into his bed as you rolled onto your side to get comfortable. “Night, Satoru.” You whispered back, eyes already feeling heavy, the comfort his bed offered was no match for the gnawing reality you were facing. For now, you were thankful for it.
~
“Think fast!” You laughed, hurtling one of the poles directly in Satoru’s direction. He turned, using infinity to block it just before it hit his face. “Nice! Your reflexes are getting faster.” You picked up another weapon, Suguru was watching you intently, an easy smile on his face. “Sugu!” You called, aiming to throw another pole. “Think fast.” you repeated, arm going back before using every ounce of strength to beeline it straight at him. Suguru smiled, summoning a curse easily to deflect it. “Not bad.” you winked, watching him roll his eyes as the curse disappeared.
“Y’all are gross.” Satoru drawled, pushing his glasses up his nose. “We didn’t even say anything?” Suguru countered, stepping out of the shade and into the sun. “You don’t need to say anything, the tension is almost unbearable.” Shoko chimed, twirling her lighter around her fingers as she watched the three of you. This time you couldn’t help but laugh, letting Suguru close the distance and wrap an arm around your waist. “See, gross!” Satoru sighed dramatically as you kissed Suguru’s cheek. “It’s called being in love, something you wouldn’t get, Satoru.” You stuck your tongue out at him, laughing as he rolled his eyes.
“Well if you’re gonna be all gross and lovey with one another, go do it in private.”
“Okay.”
You and Suguru spoke in unison, a shrill laugh leaving you as he bent down and hauled you up and over his shoulder. Naturally Shoko faked a gagging noise, watching as he carried you away with a smile. “They’re so gross.” Satoru commented again, eyes following the two of you until you were completely out of sight. Though, he couldn't deny the small smile tugging at his lips.
“Suguru.” you slapped his back lightly, he was still carrying you over his shoulder even after entering the dorm buildings. “Hmm?” he paid you no mind as he climbed the stairs, his end destination would be your dorm room… more specifically your bed. “You can put me down now.” You knew he wouldn’t, so you opted for running your hands along his back, feeling his steps falter for a moment before composing himself. “I’ll put you down when I’m good and ready.”
You rolled your eyes, playfully swatting at his ass. “Alright, that's it. You’re getting punished.” His words were very matter-of-fact, so much so that you couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Okay dad.” Suguru didn’t miss a beat, stalking down the hallway towards your dorm room. “Yeah, I’m trying to become one so it would help me out if you cooperated.” You made a strangled noise, it had been three weeks since Suguru admitted to wanting to get you pregnant. Needless to say, he wasn’t giving up any time soon.
“You just want a reason to fuck me.” You tried to counter, jumping a bit as he pushed into your dorm room and kicked the door closed behind him. “I don’t need a reason to fuck you, baby.” You couldn't describe the noise you made, whiplash taking over as he tossed you onto your bed. “I guess that’s true…” You pushed up on your elbows, watching him pull his white shirt up and over his head, knocking his hair out of his bun in the process. “You’ll be good for me right?” He was dropping to his knees before you, a gentle plea of his name leaving your lips.
“Atta girl.” he murmured, warm fingers hooking in the waistband of your shorts and pulling them down. You watched him with parted lips, watching the way his eyes observed you. “Already wet? How fucking filthy.” his hands splayed along your thighs, pushing them wide open so he could really look at you. “Just because I picked you up? Or maybe it was from wrapping my arms around your waist?” He teased, pulling one hand from your thigh to spread your cunt open instead. “Tell me, pretty girl… what has you so worked up already?”
“All of it.” You’re breathless as you look at him, no shame in your eyes as you admit how badly you want him. Suguru smiled, fingers keeping you spread as he watched the arousal pool at your entrance. “All of it, hmm? I make you that horny?” His tone was light but the look in his eyes was anything but. You could feel him devouring you whole. “Yeah, you fucking do.” You tried to keep your hips still, praying he’d do something other than watch you grow wetter by the second. “Tell me something, would you?” he pulled his eyes away to meet yours.
“Anything.” You comment softly, waiting to hear what he had to say. Suguru smiled, fighting the urge to reach up and tuck some of your hair behind your ear. “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” His voice was barely a whisper, pupils blown wide as he looked at you. You audibly groan, face feeling warm as your head falls back. “Eat me out, Suguru.” You drawl, no longer embarrassed by the things he makes you say. “As you wish.” He couldn’t even tease you for such an honest answer. Suguru’s head dipped lower, tongue licking up your inner thighs, teeth grazing the skin eagerly.
“Sugu…” You whined out, his lips growing closer to your aching cunt. “... can I suck you off after?”
Suguru’s whole body jolted as you uttered those words, mouth moving to lick and suck along your folds as his honest answer. You took that as a yes. You couldn’t help but squirm as his hands began kneading the flesh of your thighs, all the while his tongue was lapping at your cunt. Each movement sent electricity up your spine, one hand shakily reaching out to hold his head as his lips wrapped around your pulsating clit. “Oh fuck… Suguru…” you were embarrassed by how quickly he had learned to make you cum, the pressure already building in your gut.
He didn’t slow, rather he slipped two fingers into your slick entrance and scissored them in time with his sucking. He loved to put on a show for you, going as far as to slurp your juices just so he could hear you cry out. You couldn’t think straight when his tongue was wiggling against your clit, stopping every few seconds to suck until your back arched. Suguru continued this until he felt your fingers tighten in his hair, pulling harsh as your moans turned into breathy gasps. He pulled away with a slick pop, smiling deviously as your head shot up to glare at him. “Suguru!” You wailed, letting go of his hair angrily.
“Not yet, I don’t want you coming yet.”
“No fucking fair!” you whined, head falling back against the mattress in defeat. “So selfish.” Suguru laughed as he pushed himself off the floor, now making a show of pulling the rest of his clothing off. “There goes your chances at getting head.” you chided, watching as that shit eating grin remained on his lips. “You think this is funny!” you whined again, the echoes of your denied orgasm making you close your thighs to try and alleviate the pressure. Suguru watched you, cock throbbing as he kicked his pants off the rest of the way and tossed them to the side.
“I do think it’s funny, mostly because you look so cute when you’re so worked up.” his hands wrapped around himself, pumping languidly as you spread your thighs again, eager for more. Suguru smirked, always defiant until his cock was out. “Nah baby, I don’t think you deserve this right now.” he continued to stroke himself, head falling back just a bit as his own aching arousal was finally being relieved. “Sugu…” you choked out in a hushed whisper, mouth watering as he let out a breathy sigh, fingers toying with the sensitive tip. You were regretting your earlier statement.
“Sugu…” you spoke softly, watching him lift one leg to plant his foot on the mattress, hand still gliding along his shaft as his jaw slackened. He ignored you, continuing to get himself off. He was waiting for you to do something, that realization had you pushing yourself up, pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it to the ground. You pulled your legs off the side of the bed, maneuvering yourself until you sat on your knees before him. “Let me suck you off.” breathless, hands folded neatly on your lap as you waited for his response.
Suguru smiled at you, watching the mattress move as your hips squirmed. “I thought you said the chances of me getting head were gone.” he teased, hand massaging just before the head of his cock, making his own voice falter as he spoke to you. “I never said that.” which was kind of true, you didn’t say those exact words. Suguru cocked an eyebrow, unable to maintain his stern demeanor as your tongue moved to wet your lips, eyes completely focused on his fist. “Please, your hand is so boring Suguru, especially when you could have my mouth.” you tried again, eyes sliding up his torso, admiring the dips and plains of his muscles.
“When you put it like that, it’s hard to say no.” he murmured softly, letting his cock go. You scooted closer, until your knees were nearly off the edge of the mattress. “Thank you.” You whispered softly, watching his face flush a shade of pink, eyes quickly looking away from you to try and regain some sort of composure. The first touch was always enough to make him weak in the knees, your tongue gliding gently over his weeping tip before lowering to the underside of his shaft. He met your eyes, face still flushed as you looked at him with such adoration. All the while your mouth was doing sinful things to him, your duality was enough to induce whiplash.
His fingers came up to rake through your hair, guiding you as your jaw slackened, head moving to engulf him in the wet heat your mouth had to offer. “Oh fuck…” Suguru choked when you didn’t stop moving, throat constricting as your nose brushed the unruly mess of black hair at his base. You held yourself there, drool dripping down your chin as your cheeks hollowed. Slowly you dragged yourself back, watching the shiny coat of saliva covering his shaft in your wake. You repeated those motions, finding a comfortable place to bob your head at, his length heavy on your tongue. “So good for me… fuck you’re so good for me… I don’t know what I did to deserve you…”
You merely hummed, ignoring the slow but steady ache building in your jaw as your hand moved along his shaft. You could tell he was starting to really feel it, his cock twitching every few motions, head tilted back as his eyes fluttered shut. You had to admit you were impressed he managed to stay on his feet. Most times, when Suguru dared to eat you out while you were standing, you were nearly a dead weight in his grasp by the end. The only thing keeping you up was the wall he stuffed you against and his shoulders because he tossed your legs over them. You stopped when you felt him twitching violently, jaw clenched tight as his head shot forward to look down at you.
“Gonna make me cum, pretty girl.” He choked out, hands cupping your cheeks to guide you as you moved your head again. Your hands shot out, holding his thighs tightly as you let him use your head how he pleased, guiding you to a pace that made your eyes water before he stilled all together. You forced yourself to relax as Suguru spilled down your throat, letting you greedily swallow all of it before pulling off of him with a lewd pop. “Fuck…” he nearly fell into the bed, dick still hard as he crawled onto the matress with you. “How about we do this…” he sounded breathless, laying on his side and guiding you to do the same. You knew what he wanted, swollen lips parting as you sighed, settling with your back just barely touching his front.
You let Suguru grab one leg, lifting it up slowly to create enough space for himself. “Lazy boy…” You teased over your shoulder, letting his arm hook under your neck, large hand resting on your chest. “Maybe I am, but you fucking love it.” You couldn’t complain, not when he was angling his hips and pressing the weeping tip of his cock at your entrance. He pressed into you, adjusting both of your bodies until he found a comfortable position to properly rut his hips into you. All you could do is let him, whining loudly as he split you open, stuffing you full. “How’s that, hmm? Does it feel good?” Suguru whispered against your ear, panting as your walls constricted around him and tried to push him out at the very same time. “F-feels so good…so good…” You whined loudly.
Suguru didn’t give you a verbal response after that, instead focusing all of his attention on finding a good rhythm to fuck you too. You couldn’t stop the noises that spilled past your lips, each drag of his cock in and out of your heat was enough to make your vision blurry. It took everything in you to at least keep your head up, tilted downwards to watch where he disappeared and reappeared between your legs. “Suguru…” a breathless plea, one that turned into a steady mantra as all you could think about was him and what he was doing to you. Had you not been so overwhelmed you would have heard his quiet grunts of praise each time your bodies connected.
Suguru watched a shaky hand slide down your front, in your whimpering daze you managed to slip two fingers down there to rub sloppy circles on your clit. “Gonna cum, aren’t ya?” Suguru gasped, his cock twitching violently as your cunt suctioned to him, nearly making his thrusts falter. “Y-yeah…” you managed to get out, no longer having the strength to keep your head up. You let it fall, resting snuggly in the crook of the arm he was using to support you. “Then come for me, pretty girl. I wanna feel you come all over my cock… then maybe I’ll fill you up, yeah? You’d love that…” you responded with a loud whine, walls fluttering around his length each time he pushed it back in.
“There we go, come for me.” He encouraged again, warm breath ghosting the shell of your ear and earning a shiver in response. You could feel it, the aching build of a damn that was on the verge of breaking, every breath you made was nothing but a labored pant. Your heart was beating erratically, just as you were about to fall over the edge, Suguru gasped. You couldn’t help but gasp with him, his release pumping into you, hot and sticky. “F-fuck sorry…” he grounded out, his own orgasm sneaking up on him and completely catching you by surprise. Not that it mattered to you, that strained and embarrassed apology was all you needed before you felt yourself coming as well.
You both essentially collapsed, Suguru holding you tightly as he angled himself to remain inside of you, to keep his cum inside of you. “You okay?” he mumbled softly, hand lazily reaching for the one you had used to rub your clit and bring it to your lips. You whined as he popped the shiny fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue. “Yeah, I'm good…great really.” You chuckled, eyelids feeling heavy as he hummed. “Good.” he mumbled softly, pulling your fingers from his mouth to kiss them gingerly. “You know I love you, right?” Suguru’s voice was tender, so tender it nearly pulled the air out of your lungs. “Yeah, of course I know that Sugu… you know I love you too, right?”
“I know.” was all he said in reply, you had to wonder why he was suddenly so sentimental. Suguru was typically softer with you after sex, aftercare was one of his specialties. But something about his tone felt different, something about his question felt like there was more meaning behind it. You had been noticing the bags under his eyes for the last few weeks, but every time you asked he always brushed you off. “Is everything okay?” you tried to turn your head to look back at him, but the angle he had you in proved to make movement difficult. “Mmhmm, just want to make sure you’re okay.” but he hadn’t been that rough with you. “Yeah, I’m okay… but you haven’t answered me.” He stopped kissing your hand, setting it down gently as he moved to kiss your shoulder.
“I haven’t?”
“I asked you if you were okay.”
“Well, I did answer you. I said yes.” he didn’t sound offended, more or less he sounded amused. “Mmhmm isn’t a yes, Suguru.” You, on the other hand, sounded a little less enthused. “I’m okay, baby. Is that better.” you couldn’t see it but you could hear the smile on his lips. “Yeah, that’s better.” But for some reason, you couldn’t shake the worry clinging to your heart.
~
“Hey… hey…” you woke with a gasp, eyes wet as you tried to remember where you were. “You okay? You started crying in your sleep again.” A worried but groggy voice was speaking to you, one that was familiar but your brain couldn’t seem to catch up. “Y/N? It’s me, it’s Satoru.” There it was, you nearly fell back into the pillow with relief as he spoke. “Shit I’m sorry… I was dreaming and it just… fuck it felt so real. I couldn’t remember where I was…” you wiped your eyes, slowly adjusting to the dark room again. “It’s okay… you’ve been dreaming a lot.” Satoru sighed, he remembered you saying that your nights had been pretty dreamless for the last three weeks so why was that changing now?
“I know… it just started happening too. Maybe it's because of the baby.”
Your hand lowered to your stomach, palm resting flatley against it. You still couldn’t process the fact that there was something in there, something that was growing, a mix of you and him. “Can pregnancy make you dream more?” Satoru chuckled, blue eyes shifting to read his alarm clock. It was just past four in the morning. You had slept pretty well until a few minutes ago. He had been watching you, woken up by your body growing restless. He woke you up the moment he heard you start to sniffle. “I dunno, maybe.” you sighed, eyes feeling heavy again. “Sorry for waking you, Toru.” You didn’t hear the way his breath hitched, your yawn effectively shutting it all out.
You hadn’t called him by that nickname in weeks, he hadn’t really realized how much he missed it. “Don’t apologize, I told you to stop that.” Not stern, just tired, he wanted you to go back to normal but he knew that was impossible. Things would never go back to how they were. “Oh, yeah… I guess you have told me that.” You chuckle, turning on your side to face him in the dark. “I won’t apologize for forgetting this time, okay?” You grinned, eyes closing and unaware that he was able to see it in the dark. “Okay.” He sighed, a grin creeping up his own face as he let his eyes shut again. Hopefully you’d sleep through to his alarm at 8:30am, you had a busy day ahead.
~END OF PART ONE~
Thank you for reading! I hope you look forward to part 2 <3333
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“ ࣭⸰ ★ THE MOON SAYS HELLO. . .
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀呪術廻船; geto suguru x fem reader
⠀ ꒰ . . part one of three ꒱ . . . word count; 3.6k
⊹ ⠀⠀despite his insistence on never falling in love, suguru fails to stop himself from becoming smitten with his best friend’s beloved. you’ve become a flicker of hope in his darkness— though you’re someone who can never and will never be his to have and to hold.
series contains; if gojo didn’t kill geto n geto was given a chance to redeem himself, redemption arc!geto, human caretaker!reader, kind of e2l but also not really, love triangle, gojo x reader, fluff, major angst, heartbreak, wedding at the end, swearing probably, geto refers to humans as monkeys per usual
author's note; rewritten fic, will be 3 parts in total (i'm half done pls be patient w me im a slow writer...)
YEAR ONE, DAY ONE
His face is sore. So sore. It’s red, swollen, and sore after he’s spent the last three hours screaming in frustration with his current predicament. This is absurd, Satoru should’ve just killed him when he had the chance. Geto’s lost count of how many times his palms have slapped his own face; over and over again with wishes that he can wake up from this hellish nightmare the higher ups call ‘rehabilitation’— though he can somewhat still recall the first slap that he’d given himself around the half-hour mark. He’s got a pretty good memory…that doesn’t stop him from hoping his veins aren’t too noticeable as they angrily protrude from his forehead in crimson currents.
He’d rather be dead than imprisoned like this…like an animal…like one of those damn useless monkeys.
The intensity of his wails continue to bounce off of the barren walls— barren aside from the dark mark he’d punched in earlier— and echo like a party of lost ghouls in the bottom of an empty well. Geto feels like a mad man.
He’s only just begun his isolation and he’s already growing mad with boredom.
A huff escapes his lips as he plops himself down onto the twin-sized bed that’s nestled in the corner of his so-called ‘suite’. With linen sheets and a dark maroon comforter, it’s almost a cozy living situation; in another life, Geto could imagine himself cuddling beneath the covers with his favorite book and a soft record playing in the background for some ambience. That world is far far away now. Even if he asked for a record player, he doubts the higher ups would grant him one. He’s their most valuable prisoner, and they’re sure to keep him as miserable as possible until he’s one-hundred-percent pure hearted once more. However, despite their reluctance to grant him the things he wants, these aren’t the worst living arrangements he’s ever encountered and he knows that Gojo did his best to give him the best commodities he could to…well…a highly dangerous criminal.
This is the only path to forgiveness, he reminds himself, constantly trying to be optimistic about the utter absurdity of it all.
Optimism hasn’t been his specialty in a long time; anyone with a working pair of eyes would be able to deduce that, and he despises it. He’s quite rusty with the characteristic and has looked on the darker side for a while now— but wishes that he could be as reckless as he once was as a teenager. He can vividly remember how loud his laughter was with Gojo and Shoko, laughing as they chased each other throughout the school yard and using each other's cursed energy to their advantage in games of tag— but that would be near impossible now. His two best friends can barely look him in the eyes after the treason he’s committed. Gojo views him as a ticking time bomb and Shoko’s healed too many people to count that he’s harmed.
If he stepped one foot out of this room, he believes he’d be smothered on sight.
The Jujutsu Society fears Geto Suguru..
…and Geto Suguru fears himself.
In all fairness, he deserves everything that’s come to him. What he did was awful; mass murdering humans…trying to murder even more humans…harming innocent students…starting a war during the holiday season…the whole gist. There are obviously bad actions from the past that continue to haunt Geto to this day and will continue haunting him so long as he breathes— but that’s all it is now…the past. He wants redemption. He needs redemption. If Gojo managed to reach clarity within Geto’s awful decisions, then maybe he can too.
Geto wants to get better, to be better…not only for Gojo…but for himself.
This is exactly why he and his best friend has devised a plan, one that will hopefully help lead Geto on a better path— a five-year path that will only be completed if he truly wants it to, and a half a decade seems like quite a bit of time to most; but for Geto, he doesn’t know if it will be enough.
For Satoru…do it for Satoru…
He wraps his arms around himself in an attempt to comfort his heart that beats with fear every second of every day. It’s been so long since he’s been hugged by another, and he doubts he’ll ever feel that love and comfort from someone in his life. It’s the first time in a long time that he’s been alone with his thoughts with no one else to turn to; and if he’s being honest, there’s nothing in the entire world that scares him more than his own mind.
“Geto Suguru?”
He doesn’t recognize that voice.
The soft sound comes from seemingly nowhere, startling Geto with a slight jump. Whomever it is sounds frail and weak, obviously intimidated by whom they’re going to be in the presence of in mere minutes; and Geto already finds nothing but annoyance at his new companion. Of course they’re going to have prior judgment. He bets you already hate him for the rumors and stories. He doesn’t really have a choice whether or not you come in, though. Gojo insisted on a caretaker— someone to talk to so he doesn’t go insane by himself— and Geto will do anything to make his best friend happy. So, he stands up and dusts his pants off, making sure to look more presentable, and stalks towards the entryway. His hand meets the knob, yanking it open, and ready to meet the stranger on the other side.
Standing before him is you, a woman around his age. You can’t possibly be older than twenty-six, but perhaps you’re a few years younger. In your hands are various sweets and snacks that Gojo knows Geto loves, balancing on a silver tray that shines more light in the room than he’d care for. The reflections dazzle straight into his eyes, blinding him briefly with a scowl on his face. Of course Gojo would know to send you in with his favorites. He’s so predictable. His best friend is less surprising than he thinks, causing Geto to roll his eyes to the top of his head; though he appreciates the kind gesture. It’s far past dinner, though. Gojo must’ve struggled to convince the others to allow him a proper meal.
“Don’t just stand there, monkey.” Geto commands whilst gesturing to the small dining table in the center of his confined space. “Come inside.”
The instant you stepped into his presence, it was horribly noticeable that you have no cursed energy. Zero. Not a lick of it…and he struggles to hide the disgust with his body language. He can’t help but be annoyed that a monkey such as yourself is going to be in his company for the next five years.
With his distaste for you clear as day, he pulls out a chair for himself and disregards the kind option of pulling out yours prior; expectantly looking towards you with the expectation that you’re going to serve him his meal like a servant.
“Well, monkey…” he trails off disinterested, “I’m waiting.”
You hustle towards him, quickly and efficiently placing the special grade sorcerer’s meal on the placemat before him and taking the empty seat opposite. There’s a small breath you’re holding in, Geto can see it in your throat— it’s suffocating you with fear for your life as your fingers lightly tap the dark wood in a nervous fit.
You’re completely pathetic. As if a monkey would ever have the courage to speak to him. This is ridiculous.
His hands slam against the table with a loud bang. “What are you doing?” he questions, heavily interrogating you as you cower in your seat like a meak mouse. “Does Satoru expect you to monitor my meals?”
He really is nothing but a prisoner, isn’t he?
“What damage could I possibly do with this slob that’s been served to me by the scum of the earth? Start a food fight in the halls? Overthrow the Jujutsu world with a biscuit?” (If that is the case, in your defense, the biscuits are quite hard. There must be a new kitchen hand in training who based them.) This is a horrible day.
As Geto impatiently awaits your answer, a deep breath escapes your lips— perhaps a way to soothe your heartbeat into something less than a record-breaking speed— and you attempt to focus your stress and fear into a fleeting moment of zen. Your large eyes shut for a total of three seconds; one, two, three…before opening again. This time, as his own eyes make contact with yours, they’re shining with slightly more confidence than before as you swallow hard and settle your gaze on Geto— the look in your eyes evolving from that of anxiety to empathy.
“Actually,” your lips rise into a thin smile, “Gojo Satoru didn’t send me here, the higher ups did.”
Your eyes search Geto’s for any signs of discomfort or inner rage that could be boiling beneath the surface of his poker face. It appears that he’s grown even stronger at hiding his true emotions towards humans; however, you can see through the veil. Yes, it’s thick and difficult to brush past, but there’s a slight opening in the center that you peek inside— and what you can see in his heart is a man who simply wants to finally do what’s right.
“The higher ups are aware that Gojo Satoru has a soft spot for you— hell, everyone who knows your name is aware that when it comes to you, he has no reason. He has no right of mind. I’m only here to monitor and report your progress in an honest manner. That’s it. That’s all. I promise I won’t intrude on your life more than necessary.”
Shit.
“I’m sorry, Geto Suguru…but you’re stuck with me.”
It’s as if his left and right sides are arguing between themselves. His good conscience says that he should give you a chance, perhaps you could be different than the monstrous humans that attempted to kill his beloved Mimiko and Nanako; while his bad conscience tells him to let out one of his cursed spirits to devour you where you stand. Listening to his right side would definitely get him his best case scenario…a chance to see his girls again…but the left side would be so much more enjoyable. Oh well. At least the higher ups sent someone somewhat his age and not an ancient and decaying corpse like themselves. That’s a disgusting thought. He’d rather be hugged by a hundred humans than be forced to befriend a higher up. A shiver runs through Geto’s spine as a newfound appreciation for you is birthed within him.
“Do you have a name?” Geto taunts as he begins to pick at his meal, slightly disgusted with the stale quality of some of the snacks but nevertheless thankful that he at least has something to subside his aching hunger. “Or should I just call you ‘monkey’ as I do with the rest of your kind?”
That sound?
You’re laughing?
Your giggles are surprisingly pleasant to Geto’s ears as they harmonize into a song that he can imagine himself listening to each morning. Why did you find that funny? He was quite literally insulting your entire existence. Geto is dumbfounded by the strange humor you seem to have, considering that he was being entirely serious with his question. Humans are so strange. He’s never really been able to understand how your peoples’ minds work, but perhaps he could begin to learn the basics. It’s not like he has anything better to do, and some entertainment would be nice.
He’ll keep you around…it wouldn’t hurt and you can be his companion kind of like a pet.
Pets are cute…
…your smile is cute too.
You smile once more, answering his question with a blush on your face. “Please,” your cheeks redden, “Call me by my name, Suguru.”
YEAR ONE, DAY NINETY-FOUR
“You’re late.” Geto crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling a large breath of air in a loud and annoyed huff as he attempts to seem seriously angered by his new friend’s awful timing.
It’s nearly twenty minutes past the time that you were supposed to be here; emphasis on supposed. He’s been waiting with his eyes staring at the clock, watching it tick and tick as the time passed by with no you knocking on his door. That’s twenty whole minutes of time in which he was forced to entertain himself rather than listen to your rambles and rants about whatever the latest scandal is in the outside world. You love that pop culture gossip stuff that social media and magazines rave about, and in a weird way, you somewhat remind him of his daughters— personality-wise…not attraction wise…that would be weird.
Over the past few months, Geto’s grown severely accustomed to the daily routine that you’ve developed, becoming so fond of you that he strangely pictures your smile and recalls your laughter when you aren’t even here. Friendship is a funny thing. He doesn’t think he’s ever had a friend like yourself; yes, Satoru will always be his closest confidant…but his relationship with you is different in a way that he can’t quite put his finger on. He’s never considered anyone else the highlight of his every day like he does you. Your company is the kind of presence that he overwhelmingly enjoys; with such a positive and warm nature exuding comfort to Geto’s loneliness, and your judgment-free outlook on life rivaling his pessimism in a perfect mixture of negativity and optimism. He wishes he’d met you sooner, perhaps when he was a child— and if he had, maybe he wouldn’t have turned out the way he did.
It’s too bad you would’ve only been an awful human to him back then…he would’ve called you his infamous nickname without batting an eye…a monkey…
…a mere monkey whom he never ever thought he’d develop unwanted feelings for.
For his entire life, Geto always told himself not to fall in love. That love isn’t real. It isn’t obtainable, not when there are people like Satoru in the world— people that you can’t help but love— and then people like him; people who you can’t help but hate. With that being said, he’s never necessarily been looking forward to any potential love matches in his future.
…no matter who he was involved with…
…until he met you.
“Sorry about that, Suguru!” you hustle through the doorway, your appearance a tangled mess with dusty dirt particles littered with gravel.
There’s a large scratch on your right cheek, not deep or in danger of infection in any way, but noticeable enough that he’s able to see it from a distance. Knowing you, it’s most likely accidentally self-inflicted in some sort of way; you being notorious for tripping or snagging your skin on the sharp end of a table. How do you always manage to be so uncoordinated? Geto can’t help but let out a short laugh, his eyes scrolling up and down your body and taking in your entire appearance, dirt and all. You even manage to make dirt look good. What the fuck? He hates this.
Your voice carries on as you approach him. “I was running on time, but then I saw this adorable shop downtown and I just had to make a stop.” The overexaggerated tone you hold is amusing as your hands wave through the air in a physical storytelling of your experience. The skin of your cheeks is flushed red from your sprint through the city, looking beautiful in resemblance to that of a blooming rose.
Geto can feel his own face heating up at the sight of you, choosing to shrug nonchalantly in an attempt to seem as if he doesn’t care at all about your dilemma…
…as if he doesn’t care about every second of your everyday…
…as if your overall excitement isn’t the only thing that truly keeps him going nowadays.
“You tell me these things as if what you do outside of this room matters to me.” He hopes his words mask his rising blush. (Spoiler alert: They don’t.)
Flawlessly, you brush off Geto’s phony disinterest without the slightest acknowledgement. It’s as if the phrase had never even left his lips, with no evidence and proof of insult. This isn’t an uncommon occurrence when the topic of what you do when you’re not with him comes up in conversation, as the prisoner typically tries to ignore his interest in your daily shenanigans— and you can’t deny that it hurts. Most of the time, it feels as if Geto never actually listens to anything you say, and you were able to quickly realize that in the early weeks of your arrangement when the pain began to torment your heart; ripping and shredding it to bits with every eye roll and mocking scoff. You don’t seem to matter in Geto’s point of view. He doesn’t care…at least that’s what you believe.
In contrast to Geto, you’re an emotional spirit— you crave love.Love is all you’ve ever wanted, needed, and desired. In your time with him, you’ve developed inklings of feelings as well. However, you’ve chosen to let your feelings grow and blossom out of the dirtied patch of grass they were planted in— ignoring the warnings every single person in your life has given you in advance. Despite that, Geto continues to stomp on your budding flowers. He takes a heavy watering can, filled to the brim with hose water, and drowns your garden in the tears that you shed in the privacy of your bedroom. Those tears that are a never ending waterfall due to the fact that you know it isn’t your job to fall in love with your client. Your duty to Jujutsu Society is to help Geto learn to love humans and sorcerers as one in the same and to gain the trust of his community once more— not to love you.
“Okay, before you judge me, at least give me a chance to explain myself.” Stumbling towards Geto, you accidentally trip over your own feet in embarrassment, and proceed to hold out a single flower not yet in bloom. “It’s freshly cut. I saw a bouquet in the window and it caught my eye, because it reminded me of you; but I knew you’d hate a flashy bunch of them so I just bought the one.”
It reminded you of him?
Taking the gift into his own hands, Geto studies it intensely. The rose is a dark shade of red, crimson, or scarlet depending on your vocabulary. The petals are a brighter color while the plushness near the stem turns dark, more sinister as it approaches the thorns lining the sides. Just by looking at the rose, he can understand why it made you think of him. It’s gorgeous, but practically untouchable figuratively and literally. There’s only one angle that he can hold the stem at that doesn’t prick his fingers. Ouch. And he just did the very thing he was being so careful of avoiding.
All his life, he’s never been the kind of person who longed for gifts or compliments, but when coming from the right person…perhaps he is.
Whilst he struggles to come up with a reply— a simple ‘thank you’ or ‘i appreciate this’— you mentally applaud yourself as you’ve finally found a way to make him speechless…
…but your praise for yourself is short-lived.
He can’t be weak. Not even for you.“I guess it’s not terrible.” Geto throws the flower to the ground and lightly kicks it away with his right foot. As one of the beautiful petals drifts away from the lonely flower, he turns away, not being able to endure the heartbroken look on your face and the offended rose on the floor. Why does he have to be like this? “I’m sure that garbage is all a monkey like you can afford anyways.” Why is he so cruel?
His eyes clench shut as he hears the door begin to close. You’re so gentle even when upset. He admires that about you— you’re the calm to his ever-raging storm, the sailor to his tsunami, and the lifeboat to his wreckage— you’re the most pure-hearted person he knows, and you don’t deserve this awful anger he holds within him.
Is he…crying?
As tears begin to drip down his cheeks, Geto collapses against the wall with his knees buckling beneath him and his weight crumbling down to a pile of patheticness. He’s just a shell of a man undeserving of someone like you. Soft sobs escape his lips and silent cries fill the hollow room, absent of your joy, crying out until he notices the faint outline of the young rose beside him. With the flick of his hand, he snatches the flower off the ground and lifts the thorny plant with careful hands— finally and truly understanding your meaning behind the gift. This is how you see him? He’s dreadful and hurtful to others on the outside, prickling kind people away with his thorns…but when encouraged and supported, he has the potential to become something beautiful.
Someone that could one day be compared to the beauty that is of a blooming rose.
With the budding rose in his grasp, Geto sits alone. He realizes that he’s only able to become that person with the help of you. You’re the only person that has even come close to seeing him for who he truly is; aside from Satoru you’re the only person who would think of giving such a gift to the number one enemy of the Jujutsu world. You’re the only person who he’s ever come to feel true and honest romantic love towards.
Geto has to become better. Not only for himself and Satoru…but now, for you.
⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated!
⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀i promise i'll post the next 2 parts soon pls be patient :3
#geto x reader#geto angst#geto fluff#geto suguru x reader#geto x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru x reader#geto fanfiction#geto fanfic#geto ff#geto hc#geto hcs#geto oneshot#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru fanfic#geto suguru x you#suguru geto fanfiction#suguru geto fanfic#suguru geto ff#suguru geto angst#suguru geto fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#geto x y/n#jjk fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jjk ff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction
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Geto w an S/O that’s extremely anxious and overthinks a lot, needs lots of validation and just gets so tired from having such bad anxiety. not a “i can’t stand up for myself” anxiety but a “what if that look means he’s mad at me” anxiety. i just think he’d be so caring and patient with her, gentle n soft and puts her mind at ease with careful dominance. especially if his S/O is always taking care of him and others first.
Sypnosis - Read above request.
Warning(s) - mature themes, Geto is so sickeningly sweet it's insane
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
Suguru never failed to notice the dimness of your eyes as the sun set over Jujutsu High.
Just like the rising sun, your eyes were bright and lively in the mornings when you greeted him; lips turned upward in that smile he adored kissing and eyes crinkled with smile lines indenting the softness of your face.
But throughout the course of the day, while exorcising curses and assisting Shoko with tending to the injured, Suguru also noticed how the light in your eyes would slowly extinguish, like a candle left out on someone's bedside table.
It felt as if you were at everyone's beck and call.
If Gojo needed help with an assignment, you were there. If Utahime begged you to come on a mission with her instead of Mei Mei, you were there. If Shoko needed a light and a shoulder to lean on, you were there. If Mei Mei needed help covering her bill when you found yourselves out, you were there. If Nanami needed help before a mission, you were there.
But at the end of the day, Suguru had to ask – who was there for you?
Who was there for you when you returned from tougher missions? Who was there for you when you needed a shoulder to cry on? Who was there for you when you needed an extra body to hold at night?
Who was there for you in the way that you were there for others?
Well...he was.
"Oh, there you are angel. I was looking everywhere for you," Suguru says with a smile, arms laden with white plastic bags from the convenience store. His eyes quickly take in the sight of your face, smile fading as he notices the noticeable bags beneath your eyes and the dulled color of your irises.
"Were you?" you mutter offhandedly, leaning against the doorframe of your dormitory and willing yourself to smile at him – though it doesn't quite reach your eyes the way that Suguru was used to.
He nods at you, silently stepping past you as your body shifts to permit him entry into your dorm. Your eyes flicker curiously down to the bags that he holds, but you say nothing to him as he sets them down on the countertop of your dormitory's kitchenette.
"I got you some of your favorites," he pauses to remove the snacks mentioned, shaking the bags at you and smiling, "and I picked up a movie that we could watch together."
You press your lips together to suppress the yawn that claws at the base of your throat, wanting nothing more than to curl into your bedsheets and simply vanish. But at the same time, Suguru's voice was doing wonders to drown out the cold whispers that lingered in the back of your mind.
You continue to keep your eyes on Suguru, watching as he removes bags of chips, candy, and soda bottles from the plastic bags, laying them out over the countertop and smiling as he points each one out to you. Sure, his voice was a muffled buzz to your ears – but it was better than listening to whispers of the worst "what if's".
"Angel?" Suguru turns to you, eyebrows pinching together in worry at the faraway look that had glazed over your eyes. You quickly shake your head, bringing yourself back to reality with a quiet hum, paired then with a flicker of your gaze. "Are you feeling alright?"
"Fine," you quickly reply, clearing your throat and wringing your hands out in front of you like a wet towel, "I'm fine."
Suguru closes the small distance between the both of you, hands extending to tenderly hold the sides of your face. The pads of his thumbs smooth against the skin just underneath your eyes, gentle gaze holding your own.
"I hope you know that I'm very proud of you," he whispers, leaning down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips against your skin, a small yet tired sigh falling from your nose. Your body melts into his own, your face squished against the palms of Suguru's hands.
"You do so much for everyone, you must be exhausted," Suguru comments, tilting your face so that your gaze meets his own. He purses his lips, his eyes softening at the exhausted expression that had worked its way onto your face. "Come on angel, why don't we go sit down?"
You allow Suguru to lead you towards the couch, sitting you down and holding a finger up at you. He walks quickly back to your kitchenette, gathering the snacks that he had bought into his arms and bringing them to you, allowing you to pick and choose which snacks you wanted.
Your boyfriend takes a seat beside you on the couch, opening his arms to you and humming in content as you crawl towards him, resting your head on his chest and squeezing your arms around his midsection. His cheek leans against your hair, fingers rubbing gentle circles into the exposed skin of your sides.
Your cheek smushes gently against his t-shirt, eyes fluttering shut as an odd feeling of relaxation finally washes over you – eliminating any and all exhaustion that had been previously shackled to your ankles. His scent had always been so comforting to you; that mixture of incense and sandalwood that was just so unapologetically him.
Suguru hums as your arms squeeze around him, the vibration against your cheek lulling you further into a state of relaxation, one that you welcomed like a warm hug. "Better?"
You grumble something incoherent against his shirt, squeezing at him as you feel his body begin to shift underneath your own. He smiles, craning his neck to press a chaste kiss against the top of your head, tugging you closer and threading his fingers through your hair, nails raking your scalp comfortingly.
"I'm so grateful to have you in my life angel," Suguru whispers against your hair, the hand resting on your waist continuing to draw comforting circles into the exposed skin. His lips ghost your forehead, then pressing a gentle kiss there as you lean further into him. "I love you."
You feel your heart warm at his declaration, squeezing your arms around him and pressing a kiss against his clothed pec. Every bit of worry, every tiny ounce of anxiety melting away with something as simple as three words. And even though you knew that tomorrow would likely be the exact same...
...at least Suguru would be there to gently pick up the pieces.
#colonelarr0w#jjk x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#suguru geto fanfiction#geto suguru fanfiction#geto fanfiction#geto fluff#suguru geto fluff#geto suguru fluff
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Wrong Reservation Right Time
Pairing: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, suggestive, only one bed, rivals to lovers, boner mention, teasing, kissing, banter
Word count: 0.8k
A/N: Geto being a jackass will never not be good content to me.
It wasn't bad enough that you had to go on a mission with the guy you really couldn't stand, it wasn't bad enough that there was only one room you could stay in. What was the cheery on top of this mission was the fact that there was only one bed and you needed to stay here overnight.
This was a mistake. It had to be. You complained as much when you were first handed only one key. But maybe there would be two beds? That made sense, two beds for two people. No. Not with your rotten luck. One bed. A small one at that.
"There's no way I'm getting in a bed with you." You glared at Geto who looked just as uncomfortable with this arrangement. He flipped that annoying strand of hair to the side of his face. You hated how your eyes followed it.
"You're more then welcome to sleep on the floor." Geto jumped on the bed before you could, hogging it all to himself. Hell no. You made thee grab for the blankets, engaging in a tug of war with him. Your rivalry was always a little childish, this was a new low, or a new high. "Fucking... can you let go?!"
"Can you? In case you don't remember we both need to stay up all night tonight and I am not spending it on a cold floor. So you either move your ass or I'll move it for you."
He got the briefest sly grin, "Is this your way of asking to get into bed with me?" His flirting always caught you off guard, which you suspected was part of why he was doing it more and more often. Geto and Gojo were two of the most popular guys even back in student days, you certainly weren't blind to why that was.
"Get over yourself Geto." You growled as you got closer to his face, the blanket bunched up in your hands.
Surprisingly he let go but found a new target, your shoulders.
"Wha-!" He yanked you down with him and climbed on top of you, "Wh- what are you doing you idiot?!" Your face was aflame, even through your clothes you could feel his warm palms pressing against you. "Get off of me."
"Ha, you're the one who wouldn't take my first offer. Your stubbornness would be cute if it didn't piss me off so much." Geto got in close, so close you could feel his warm breath against your ear.
It sent involuntary shivers down your spine.
"And you'd be boyfriend material if you weren't so damn cocky and annoying." Wasn't the insult you thought it was because the second the words registered in his brain his smile went from cocky to teasing. "Fucking asshole. Get that grin off your face."
"Why should I? Isn't my grin boyfriend material too?" Fuck he was unbelivble...ly hot right now. "You're staring at my lips."
"I-I'm not!" Your voice wasn't convincing anyone right now. Not even yourself. Even if it was there was no way you could deny you were looking at his lips now, getting closer and closer, ghosting over yours. "I hate you." Those were the last words you said to him before his lips, really soft lips, were on yours. Geto didn't push his tongue in, just ghosted it over your mouth, gently licking while your hands fumbled with his shirt, feeling the heat getting to be too intense.
Geto smiled into the kiss, "Fuck. Getting too hot in here." He pulled away and unbuttered his jacket, threw it off along with his shirt, his toned body all for you to see. What was the final straw for you? Him untying his hair from his bun. "That's better." Strong yet gentle hands eased your legs apart and he pressed his whole body on top of yours, his hands on your cheeks, yours tangling in his hair.
For the first time it wasn't to pull him away but to pull him closer. "We still have work you know?"
"I know. And I have the perfect idea on how we can stay up all night." He wiggled his eyebrows, hips rolling into yours, your legs spreading a bit more. There was a slight hardness in his pants but you had no doubt that he would only get harder if you let this continue.
"You think I'm that easy? Not everyone is like you." There were more then enough rumors going around about him. You knew that not all of them were true but you were no about to become part of them. Well it would be true but...
He pressed himself closer, feeling your soft chest against him, "I don't think you're easy, just easily flustered. Which makes you cute." Cute. Why did that make you happy? Why did that make you kiss him again?
Shit. Maybe you were that easy.
#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk imagines#geto suguru imagines#geto imagines#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfic#geto suguru fanfiction#geto fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jjk fluff#geto suguru fluff#geto fluff#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk x you#geto suguru x you#geto x you#x female reader
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PLEASE DON'T SAY YOU LOVE ME !
࿔･ﾟ*࿐ You kept catching glimpses of Suguru around even after his death. Thinking it may have been a trick on your mind, you brushed it off but when someone that looks and sounds exactly like him shows up at your apartment, you have no other choice but to take matters into your own hands... that is until you find out that he still might be in there.
pairing. geto suguru x gn!reader
tags. angst,, like seriously angst (this hurts so much please listen to me), the first half is a trick there is no happy ending, shibuya arc spoilers!!! (kenjaku is a bitch), violence/fighting (i get a bit descriptive sorry) and of course,,, major character death :)
word count. 2.8k
notes. this idea came to me one night and bambi encouraged me to write it so here it is. i hope no one kills me for this, i also can't believe this is my first official fic of jjk... anyways, get ready to (c)rumble, thank you! <333
“I thought I told you not to worry about me.” you said, phone tucked on your shoulder holding it to your ear as you took the grocery bag from the old lady giving a curt nod and smile. You moved the bags in one hand and pulled the phone out from your shoulder, pressing it against your ear.
“But then what else would I do?” Satoru whined, masking his concern with a playful question as you walked to the crossing, going to take the usual route home.
“Go bother someone else.” you teased.
Going for the dramatics you heard him gasp through the line, “You are so mean.” he replied and you don’t have to see him to know he is pouting.
You chuckled, stopping in your tracks as you glanced over the scenic route through the park contemplating to take the long way home. Your attention is suddenly turned to the children with their parents, chasing each other around.
Your heart stuttered.
The mere sight elicited thoughts about your future; the plans you had come up with; the dreams you’d wish to share with Suguru that were torn away from you. The burdens of the jujutsu world were too much to handle alone, and you just know that if you were just a bit more attentive, you could have saved him.
“You need to be reminded that you’re not the only special grade sometimes.” you said, glancing at the way the soft cerulean of the sky weaved with a beautiful light orange. The sunset reminding you of days when Suguru would take you out after missions together.
“Do you think you’re stronger than me?” he chimed, and you rolled your eyes at his comment. Satoru was always like this but you knew that his voice was laced with worry and concern.
“I’m going to hang up.” you threatened as your feet move against their own will, deciding to take the long way home today. The cherry blossoms danced along with the wind, falling beneath you on the concrete as you continued down the path.
It is quiet for a moment and you think Satoru has hung up on you in response to your comment but when you hear him sigh, you can’t help but do the same.
It has been a rough few years for everyone, especially for Shoko, Satoru, and yourself. Not only had you lost your best friend the first time but you also had to lose him another time.
“Are you still there?” he interrupted your thoughts.
“Yeah.. I’m still here.” you replied as you let out an exhale, kicking some pebbles along your path.
“Are you still seeing him around?” he questioned, words picked out carefully.
You sighed, “you make me sound insane.” you responded as you stood at the traffic light waiting for the cars to pass by. Your eyes moved to the blossom leaves falling atop your head and on your clothes.
“I never said you were insane Y/N.” he grumbled and you can’t control the way your whole body relaxes at his words. You knew Satoru cared for you deeply and you had always appreciated it even if you didn't really show it. He had always kept an eye out for you, even before Suguru’s death, and while he was a handful, you knew he always had good intentions. “It wasn’t easy to be there." he added.
You thought back to that day where Satoru insisted you stay back as he went to find Suguru but one look at you and he caved. You wanted to go to find newfound peace but seeing him in this state did nothing for your closure, it only made your heartache worse.
Seeing him smile at you like he did the first day you met had sent butterflies all throughout your body.
Everything about him- every minuscule detail about him- had been exactly as you had remembered. He still had the same sweet and playful look in his eyes. He still had the same goddamn smile. He was still the same person you fell in love with all those years ago so it hurt. You cried, wept, and tried to be strong as you thought about the moments shared with him and how cruel it was that this was where you ended up.
You leaned down, and kissed his cheek as tears adorned your cheeks. Holding his hand and with three tight squeezes- a sign of sorry that you established as your relationship blossomed- he closed his eyes, prepared for the worst as a tear rolled down his face, and then he took his last breath.
“Satoru…” you uttered, completely speechless as you tried to clear your head, “I wanted to be there.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“Do you think it’s possible?” he questioned, uncertainty laced in his voice.
“That what Satoru? That by some miracle he’s alive?” you replied immediately regretting it.
It wasn’t just you that had to grieve the loss of Geto Suguru, and as much as you wanted to just go about your day without thinking about it, guilt would eat away at your bones for not constantly thinking about him.
“i’m sorry.” he sighed and you felt your heart clench at his apology. Why should he be apologising? It was unfair that grief was making you behave this way and you knew that sooner or later you'd need to talk to someone about it.
“I’m the one who should be sorry. I just don’t think my mind will let me forget it...” you sighed as you continued to walk slowly to your apartment.
The line is quiet and you don’t know what else to say. You don’t expect Satoru to even reply to you.
“You don’t have to forget. You can just live with it.”
Shoko had once told you that 'grief was love with no place to go' and while you hadn’t really understood it then, you did now. It was a way to understand the emotional ruins of grief as a continuation of the love you once had, even if the object of that love is no longer a part of your life. In a sense, Satoru was also telling you the same thing. He acknowledged that moving on didn't mean erasing the past and staying stagnant in the moment, but recognised that you can continue living a meaningful life whilst also carrying the grief with you.
You thought you were losing your mind and that seeing Suguru everywhere was a curse but maybe it was the world's way of letting you know that he was finally at peace. As you walked up the pathway to your apartment in a comfortable silence, you thought about his and Shoko’s words.
Every single day you would return home to a place void of any remnant of Suguru. A place that is supposed to offer comfort now did the opposite but today felt different. Maybe it was a step towards another way of living and it wouldn’t be so hard to live with the grief.
“Where are you now?”
“Outside my door.” you spoke as you used a key to unlock the door.
“Okay. I’m glad you got home safe," he remarked, "I'll see you tomorrow?”
“See you then.”
“Stay safe.” he said and you know what he means.
“Love you too.”
You hung up the phone and took off your shoes before tossing everything onto the kitchen island and groaning as you stretched your back and neck. You turned to open the fridge, “Whoever you are, you have ten seconds to run before I kill you.”
You wouldn’t say you were the strongest, your abilities were nowhere to be compared to Satoru but everyone deserves a second chance, right? You let the entity decide its own fate. Don't say I didn't warn you...
“So... you’re the infamous Y/N.”
That voice…
Your feet were frozen in place and you could feel your own heart sink into the pit of your stomach. There were words stuck in your throat as the nauseous feeling crept up and threatened to spill from your lips. This can’t be right…
What felt like minutes passed by as you processed what, or rather who you just heard. The way your name rolled off their tongue was foreign. Was it really who you thought it was? Your mind must be going through it right now and although you know it’s not possible, you can’t help but hope it is who you think it is as you turned around.
“Suguru?” you uttered, eyes wide as the tears brimmed the edge of them as you stared at the man in front of you.
“Bingo!” he chuckled.
You begged yourself to snap out of it. This was clearly a sick and twisted transformation technique but your heart betrayed you, standing there and not making a run for it.
“You’re probably thinking this is some illusion but thanks to your friend, I was able to obtain this body without much trouble.” he smiled and you felt goose bumps crawling up your arm at the strange sight. Despite how much this man looked and sounded like Suguru, you knew this was not the case at all.
Your jaw clenched, “What the fuck did you do to him?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said, standing up from your sofa as he trudged towards you, “My cursed technique allows me to transplant my brain into anybody," he explained and you're heaving as you tried to keep your rage at surface level, "I have access to all of his memories, his skills, and whatnot."
You don't have it in yourself to attack just yet.
"He lived a long time without you in his life but somehow," he paused, "you take up almost every single memory.” he sounded frustrated and the tears threatening to escape your eyes do so- whether he was telling the truth or not, they still hurt you immensely.
“So why are you here?” you growled as your body allowed itself to move again and maintaining eye contact with him as you focused all your energy to charge your technique.
“You are a hindrance to my plans.”
His weakness.
You released your cursed technique at him immediately and launched him across the room and as you moved to the table to grab your phone. One of Suguru’s cursed spirits wrapped around your hands and restrained you and using your abilities, you managed to get away from it. You shot him a look as he tilted his head with a smile, “I gave you ten seconds to run but I have something else settled for you now” you snapped as you continued to use your technique to your advantage as you continued to fight him.
You would say that against Suguru, it had always been a close call of who would win in a fight but this time it felt difficult. Who was this guy?
You continued to attack the man, fighting back with all your might. He wasn’t actually Suguru, so you didn’t feel the need to hold back. He caught you off guard with a calculated move and knocked you to the floor. You saved yourself from further injury as you used your arm to break the fall, but you managed to hit your head on the furniture with your head in the process.
You winced pushing yourself off your elbow as the man walked towards you with his hands in front of you as he tried to force you up by the throat, “Suguru...” you managed to say before he could grab you.
Before you can even process it, there is a twitch of his hand that came up to his throat, choking himself as his fingers pressed down against the side of his throat, ultimately stopping himself from putting a hand on you.
Your eyes widened as your breath caught in your lungs. Was he still in there?
Kenjaku’s eyes widened, as his vessel- Suguru’s body- fought against him, and a laugh that used to be full of joy now sounded like nails on a chalkboard as it echoed through your apartment, “This is impressive!" he spoke, amused at the action.
By no means was Geto Suguru still alive, but protecting you had become muscle memory; it was an instinct that has embedded itself deep within his soul, one that Kenjaku would never truly be able to understand..
You are still on the floor, blood dripped down the side of your head as you moved up from your spot. Using your technique, you try and catch him off guard by putting all your strength into your next move, attacking him when he least expects it, “In all my years, I have never seen anything quite like this and it is all because of you.” he cackled.
“It sounds like somebody is scared.” you taunted, smirking at the imposter to try to size him up.
“Well, let me tell you this,” he cleared his throat, “When a part of the original host reacts, you know what that means?”
“What?” you seethed, jaws clenched as you waited for him to finish his sentence.
“He’s still in here.” he whispered, and t had caught you off guard.
You wanted to attack but instead your heart sabotaged your next move allowing Kenjaku to have the upper hand. You struggled to react as you felt the pain of something on your left side and suddenly, you are on the floor gasping for air and you can feel him hover over you.
He pinned you down to the floor and slammed you against it to stop you from struggling but you were already incapacitated so what was the point?
In terms of physical strength, Suguru would always win by a landslide and this is when you wished you had taken your training more seriously.
There was a visceral reaction that tears at Kenjaku as he has you in his hands which entertains him once again, “You have some nerve calling yourself a special grade sorcerer,” he sneered, “Are you holding back?”
You looked up at him and tried your absolute best to move but the pain is too much to handle. You clenched your jaw as your breathing became erratic, “You will find no peace, so long as you live.” you choked out.
He laughed and wrapped his hand around your neck tighter, his right hand reaching over to your hand- you don’t know what he expected from you now that you’re bleeding out. "You're hilarious," he rejoiced as his hand intertwined with yours, “So let me make this easier for you. Just think about him...” Kenjaku needed you to suffer so that he could shake Suguru’s will to its core, stripping anything left he had. You don’t know what you expected but then you felt a gentle squeeze.
One.
You forced your eyes open to look up at the man who squeezed your hand. It seemed that he was unaware at the action. This guy said he had all of Suguru’s memories so was he just doing this on purpose? Is this Geto Suguru or is this the imposter that is using his body?
“It is honestly so sweet just how much he loved you after all those years apart.” he chuckled.
Kenjaku continued to put pressure around your neck with one hand, feeling the exact opposite of what Suguru was probably going through- an intolerable, gut-wrenching pain, without exaggeration. He can’t do anything but squeeze his hand in yours again.
Two.
You can’t fight back, you have no will. Even if by some miracle, how could you possibly hurt the man in front of you? The man you once loved...
“Is that why you’re not fighting back? Do you love him too much to hurt him?”
Suguru’s soul pleaded.
He wondered why he couldn’t be strong right now for you and resist but it was no use. You could see a tear falling from his face now as the final fragment of his soul tried its best to push through.
Three.
You’re choking. You can't swallow. You can't breathe. You can only see the man you loved in blurry vision from the lack of oxygen and through tears. He was sorry...
“I… I.. forgive.. y-” you choked out, voice restricted as Kenjaku forced himself to push through with his execution, tightening his grip.The finality of it all settled deep within his soul as Kenjaku watched the life leave your eyes as you took your last breath.
A tear rolled down your cheek and your existence on the Earth came to an end.
Suguru was not really gone but he might as well have been. He will exist for a long time knowing that he was the one that killed you and that he couldn’t do anything to stop it either.
It was on that night for the first time that Kenjaku felt the overwhelming amount of agony from his vessel. His soul ached, cried, and wailed that night, longing to be with you but he couldn’t- that was just how things were meant to be for you two.
You hoped he knew that you forgave him and that you would love him endlessly but as for now, you would wait...
tags! @stsgluver
i made y/n a special grade user because they could easily take down suguru if they wanted but just didn't do it hahahahahah
#yours truly nini#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x y/n#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x y/n#geto suguru angst#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru fanfic#suguru geto angst#suguru geto fanfic#suguru angst#geto angst#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen angst#jjk angst#jjk fanfic#jjk x reader#jjk spoilers
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Sugar
Geto Suguru x Gojo!fem-reader & Choso x Gojo!fem-reader
Summary- Love is a fickle thing isn’t it? Life isn’t so sweet. People are meant to love, lose, and love again; sorcerers like you more than most. You endure pains that non-sorcerers will never experience a speck of in their lifetimes. So much is expected of you not only because you’re a Gojo; a sorcerer from one of the prestigious sorcerer families, but because you were lucky or unlucky to be born special grade as well. All your life you were taught to be one way and follow a path, but remember that pain you get to experience in order to protect the lives of non-sorcerers? Well, that pain gets to you and deviates you down a dark path with Suguru Geto, a man you love, your hope, and the one who stays. Yet that path is dark and twisty, full of surprises that bring life, and loss most of all. When will enough be enough, and will you be able to find that light in a lifetime of darkness you so crave? Will you change your ways after years of defection and thinking you’re right? Do you believe in second chances after what you’ve done?
Moodboard, fighting outfits concepts
Suguru geto x y/n Gojo moodboard, Satoru Gojo x y/n Gojo moodboard, Kento Nanami x y/n Gojo, Choso x Y/N
Chapter 1 Angelfish
Chapter 2 Just a girl
Chapter 3 The first one
Chapter 4 Live for the hope of it all
Chapter 5 Appeasing
Season 2 (Hidden inventory arc)
Chapter 6 Where you are
Chapter 7 The Ballad of Jujutsu sorcerer
Chapter 8 The world’s a little blurry
Chapter 9 Hearing damage
Chapter 10 I’ll know, I’ll know
Jjk 0 Movie
Chapter 11 It almost worked
Chapter 12 Fallen Angel
Chapter 13 It’s over isn’t it?
Chapter 14 Lost in the darkness
Season 2 (Shibuya Arc)
Chapter 15 The start of something new
Chapter 16 The last supper
Chapter 17 Kill of the night
Chapter 18 Happy birthday, by the way
Chapter 19 I’m sorry for your loss
Chapter 20 Intergalactic
Itadori Execution Arc
Chapter 21 But then I found you
Chapter 22 What never was
Tengen arc
Chapter 23 You’re an angel, I’m a dog
Chapter 24 By saying something stupid like…
Chapter 25 Blood, dragons, curses and black holes
Sukuna v Satoru
Chapter 26 Sweet Gojo
Chapter 27 The sun will shine on us again
Chapter 28 A song for us
Chapter 29 Birthday surprises
Chapter 30 Two can be as bad as one
Chapter 31 All through the night
Chapter 32 Our last goodbye
Chapter 33 Haven’t I given enough?
Chapter 34 Two birds on a wire…
Chapter 35 …One says c’mon and the other says I’m tired
Chapter 36 Be the One Fallen from Grace, be Death
Side stories
Wedding bells (takes place in between chapter 10) takes place in 2008 & 2009
Colors of the wind (takes place in between chapter 10) takes place in 2012
Fun trend not so great (before season 2 starts)
The soul (takes place in ch.17)
Satori info page
#fanfiction#damn-stark#sugar#series#new fic#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk#jjk fanfiction#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru#geto suguru x Fem!reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x fem!reader#geto suguru fanfic#getou suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#geto suguru x gojo!fem-reader#gojo saturo#Gojo Satoru x sister!reader#choso#choso x female reader#jjk choso#choso x Fem!reader
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THE TASTE OF LOVE IS ON MY GUMS (I WANT TO DRINK YOUR TEARS AS MOUTHWASH)
[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ suguru decides winter is your season, after all.
[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ this man has me tweaking so goddamn hard. you have no idea. lmao. suguru didn’t go crazy au, i used they/them pronouns for kirara. also y’all should lowkey listen to margaret by lana while reading this
“five minutes, everyone!” satoru’s voice echoes through the dimly-lit room, and you hear some people squeak and cheer.
your eyes flicker briefly to suguru, who’s standing right next to his best friend, and he catches you, eyes crinkling and a cherry blush on his face, probably thanks to the beer he drank as competition with the strongest sorcerer. satoru’s hand drapes around his neck, and he whispers something to him, enough for you not to hear from across the room, where you’re smoking your cigarette with shoko. you do, however, see the small punch your boyfriend gives the man, and chuckle, amused.
“mom, dad, let’s go!” the twins yell in unison, splitting, dragging you and suguru out by your arms, where everybody is.
yuta laughs as you’re pulled by him, almost stumbling over, and megumi and yuuji do too. nobara stands outside, waving her arms around in the air, next to maki, toge and panda, who’re doing just the same, firecrackers and fireworks in their hands.
the school is crowded, this year everyone — including the kyoto students and utahime — joined for new year’s. as you’re dragged outside, nanako’s grip slips from your arm, and her and mimiko leave you and suguru behind, opting to jump on the third years’ backs, and hakari and kirara abide without a word.
“i blame satoru for giving them so much energy.” suguru jokes and wraps an arm around your shoulders, beginning to walk forward. you laugh at him, because you think the same.
slowly, everyone gathers outside: shoko’s lighting another cigarette, nanami is fixing his tie while ino just stands next to him, freezing, after insisting his sheisty is enough to keep him warm, gojo’s pestering utahime and yuki is trying to calm choso after todo slipped a joke about itadori being his brother again. kusakabe’s exasperated as he sees panda and toge fool around with the soon-to-be explosions. yuta and maki are laughing, and nobara and the boys gathered next to nanako, mimiko and the third years.
miwa and kokichi stand somewhere, hand in hand, and momo gushes over them as kamo only sighs, and mai is absolutely resisting the urge to tease them. akari, like the big sister she is, is scolding arata for drinking beer, and ijichi, as always, is trying to calm her down.
suguru walks with you, a bit out front, holding you close. he thinks he couldn’t have had it any better — thank the heavens you were by his side through everything — when he looks at you like this, his heart swells with anticipation. you’re 27 and he is too. in a month, 28 will hit him in the guts. still, he can’t wait.
“two minutes!” yuuji exclaims, and everybody starts to gather closer together, you and the boy with plum blossoms in his eyes the only ones outside of the small brownian motion happening behind. the pink-haired first-year tries to run forward, but megumi, hakari and yuta grip him by his hood.
“don’t, just wait.” they all say in unison, and nanako, mimiko, tsumiki, nobara and maki exchange looks, brows quirked up. the twins slide from their senpais’ backs back down, and move closer to the rest of the group.
everyone’s together.
everyone’s happy.
the moments fly by easily. fireworks start to bloom in the sky. the temples of the school are covered in snow, but the ground has been cleared, thanks to the amazing boys who made your high school years feel like nothing short of the worlds longest rollercoaster.
“five!” noritoshi finally yells.
you looks at suguru with a loving look in your eyes. his bun’s a bit disheveled, but you don’t mind.
“four!” yuki says next.
a particularly beautiful explosion catches your attention, and the boy lets you slip from his hold to step forward.
“three!” todo announces.
suguru’s heart is about to burst, he looks at his two best friends: wide grins on their shameless faces.
his hand travels to his pocket, and he slides something out. music’s blaring in the background from the empty room from inside, but he can only hear the echo of his heartbeat in his ears.
“two!” the kyoto girls yell excitedly.
you’re still with your back to him. he gets down on his knee.
throughout the heavens and the earth, please, god, let him be the honored one.
“one!” the tokyo kids yell.
everybody gasps, and pyrotechnics burn in the sky.
the twins are crying in the background, silently — their mom and dad are getting married — and megumi holds mimiko so close he thinks the air might leave her lungs. tsumiki’s looking at you two with the sweetest smile. toge’s arm is slung tightly around nanako’s shoulder.
“mentaiko.”
“choke.” nanako says back with a small laugh, and the blond flicks her forehead.
panda pats her head, and lets out an amused chuckle.
kirara can’t believe what they’re seeing. they side-eye kinji, who just stands there looking smug, and next to him, yuta smiles, and thinks he might let rika out to see this too, because after all, she somehow liked you from the beginning.
yuki pats choso’s shoulder, the poor cursed womb is crying. nanami looks at his favorite senior, and shoko tries to blink back tears, but utahime knows better, so she hugs her. satoru’s tears are burning through his sclera, but his glasses are good enough to hide them.
you turn around, right when the clock strikes midnight. a big smile is on your face, and then your hands cover your mouth in shock and disbelief and everything that feels like the shoujo mangas suguru laughed at you for liking.
“suguru?” you sniffle, and feel a tear fall from your eye unexpectedly.
he matches you, and one falls on his face too. it drags down on his right side, contouring his chiseled face. when it reaches the jawline, it falls.
“i love you, sweetheart.”
his throat almost constricts, his spine is tingling, another ten tears fall from his eyes as you nod, your own washing down your cheeks. another ten years is all he wants with you, and many more if that’s not too much to ask for.
“marry me, y/n.” his words are heavy, full of love, they peel you open, and lick your soul.
“yes.”
another sniffle, and he gets up, and lifts you up in his embrace. he kisses you like he wasn’t by your side for the last decade.
shibuya in winter doesn’t compare to this.
everyone’s cheering in the background, and panda lights his fireworks too. now you hear mimiko’s and nanako’s happy cries, and kirara’s bowling their eyes out next to kinji — you truly babied them too much, but you’ll still never admit — and megumi and tsumiki look at each other tenderly, boy’s head rested over your daughter’s. two of the people that raised them are now in front of them, and it’s not as if they didn’t know you loved each other, they just can’t believe they were allowed to see this moment.
yuuji and nobara are holding onto each other for dear life as they’re whimpering, and maki and mai shoot each other a happy look. kamo’s eyes dart open, and miwa’s muffling her sobs, her boyfriend right besides her, pinching her cheeks. momo feels her heart clench with so much happiness, and looks to the side, seeing utahime get all teary-eyed. todo’s clutching his necklace.
“finally…” satoru sighs, and nanami punches his shoulder, a ghost of a tear disappearing on the back of his hand.
suguru’s arm hooks under the back of your knees, and he turns around, with you in his hold, bridal style. teenage smiles on your faces: your hand is stretched out front, pink morganite and aquamarine shining in the moonlight.
“happy new year, everyone!” your fiancé cheers, and throws you in the air, above. a flash — shoko’s ancient polariod camera, and everyone comes rushing forward.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen headcanons#suguru geto#suguru geto x y/n#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#geto x reader#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru fluff#geto suguru headcanons#suguru geto headcanons
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‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚. you try to confess to suguru on valentine's day. due to a certain somebody, it doesn't go as well as you'd hoped. ‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.
@kn09960180 on X
synopsis: it's your first valentine's day at jujutsu tech and you're crushing hard on a dark-haired senior student. you're determined to make him yours, a task that ends up being more difficult than you'd anticipated.
warnings: suggestive sexual activity, nothing too explicit.
a/n: this is dedicated to all the homophobic anons that have been blowing up my inbox lately to insist stsg are purely platonic. happy valentines day, girlies. this is for you 😘
it's only your first valentine's day at jujutsu tech, but you know in your heart of hearts that it's going to be the first of many with him. you may have joined late, a classmate of nanami and haibara in the year beneath him, but you've got the rest of your lives to make up for lost time. you may only be sixteen, but you're old enough to know what you want— and what you want, what you crave, is him.
you spent hours on the cards you made him, open-whens for every occasion. you pored over ever detail, spraying each one with your most expensive perfume and sealing it with a lipstick kiss. open when you're sad, open when you miss me, open when you need to smile. it's the perfect gift, answering his every whim with a handwritten note accompanied by a handpicked treat, designed to make him think only of you.
that's why, when you're standing in front of his door, you hesitate before raising a fist to knock. what if he doesn't like it? what if he doesn't like you? shaking your head to dispel these thoughts, you rap on the door, telling yourself for the hundredth time that the way he looks at you cannot be mistaken for anything other than pure adoration.
you wait with bated breath, bouncing on the balls of your feet. enough time passes that you start to wonder about knocking again. maybe he's not home? he could be out on a mission, the provider that he is. your heart cracks at the thought of him risking his life but you know he puts his duty above all else. it's one of the reasons you love him so much.
you're about to knock again when the door swings open, revealing a rumply suguru, hair mussed and collar popped. he smiles gently down at you from all 6'2 of his height and you have to actively fight the urge to swoon.
"hey, what can i do for you?" the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles kindly, and you have to remind yourself to breathe.
"this—this is for you," comes out of your mouth all in one breath as you push the giftbag out at him. the corner of his mouth quirks, eyebrow raised as he slowly takes it.
"that's very kind of you," he says, making eye contact. "you didn't have to do that just for me."
"i wanted to," you breathe, watching him chuckle.
"well, i feel very lucky," he says, brushing his hair out of his eyes. he smiles at you again and you blush, hard. "i just feel bad that i didn't get anything for you."
it takes every ounce of courage in your body to speak the next words. "i can think of something," you say breathlessly, tongue darting out to lick your lips. suguru is staring at you, and your heartbeat is thundering in your ears, the only thought echoing in your mind that this is it, he's going to finally kiss you it's literally happening right now oh my god—
"whatcha got there?" satoru pops up over suguru's shoulder, startling you into taking a step back. he's equally rumpled, his hair similarly mussed. you can only watch in abject horror as he unceremoniously plunges a hand into suguru's giftbag, pulling out a card.
"open when you want a kiss?" satoru reads, devilish grin creeping over his face. you're frozen as he barks out a laugh, tearing open the card to find a hershey's kiss inside. suguru rolls his eyes as he gleefully unwraps it and pops it into his mouth, chewing loudly.
"that's rude, satoru," suguru chides, bumping him with an elbow. "they were just trying to do something nice, something that you could take notes from." satoru looks at you over the top of his glasses, munching on the candy you got for suguru, stolen from the gift you spent so much time making for him. he tosses the beautifully decorated card over his shoulder and you watch it flutter to the floor, landing amongst the clothes strewn around suguru's room.
"this was nice, that's for sure," satoru says derisively, blue eyes piercing. you gulp, and with the humiliation of a medieval peasant being tomatoed in town square, stutter out your goodbyes before fleeing back to your room. panting hard, you slide down in front of your door. slumping dejectedly, one thought crests in your mind: valentine's day isn't over yet, and you have plenty of time to make sure suguru knows that he's yours.
****
a few hours later, you've ventured out into tokyo and returned with a bouquet of roses. you went all out, buying the most expensive one the shop had even though you're a penniless student. you know you should be more budget-conscious, but you'd buy a hundred more bouquets if you could. he's worth it.
you're wandering around the halls, bouquet clutched against your chest, when you bump into haibara.
"hey haibara!" you exclaim. "do you know where geto is?" haibara tilts his head, chewing his lip while thinking.
"i'm pretty sure i saw him go into yaga's classroom earlier!" haibara says, pointing down the hall. you pat his arm and thank him, returning his sunny smile as you head down the hall towards yaga's classroom.
pausing outside, you wonder again if you've done too much. no, you reassure yourself, he's going to love it just like he loves you. red roses are classic and he's a classy man, only one year older than you but what can you say? you've always liked them mature. dignified.
the door is shut, which is weird because yaga is notorious for always keeping his open. as you shift the bouquet to your other hand to grasp the doorknob, your phone clatters onto the floor with a loud clank. swearing to yourself, you hike the bouquet up into your elbow and reach down to grab your phone. straightening and trying to look as alluring as possible, you open the door.
you're confronted with the sight of suguru, standing behind the podium that yaga usually lectures from. he's gripping the sides of the wood, his knuckles almost white. his lower body is obscured by the bottom half of the podium, only the top of his chest and shoulders visible.
what is he doing with the podium? probably rehearsing a speech for something incredibly important, as he is wont to do. your respect for him only grows.
"hey," suguru smiles at you, although it seems little tight. "what can i do for you?"
you start to walk towards the podium, intending to give him the roses, but stop in your tracks once he throws a hand up in alarm.
"w-wait, i'm just— i just have a little cold, i think i'm sick. i wouldn't want you to catch it," he smiles kindly, and your heart warms.
how thoughtful. that's your suguru, always looking out for the people around him. you smile to yourself, laying the massive bouquet of roses on the table.
"these are for you," you say shyly, gesturing to the flowers.
"that's —ah!— very kind of you," suguru's face is pinched, his grip tightening around the podium. you raise an eyebrow and he chuckles hastily, waving a dismissive hand.
"just got a charley horse, you know how it is. from all the— training, all the time."
you never cease to be amazed. such an incredibly dedicated protector— that's a real man.
"i hope you like them," you say bashfully. suguru appears to briefly choke on his tongue before swallowing hard, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat.
"i like it—them, i like them very much," he hastily amends, face contorting in an effort to remain causal.
"would you wanna grab coffee or something later?" you ask, summoning every drop of bravery in your sixteen year-old body.
suguru's eyes nearly bulge out of his head, and for a moment you wonder if you've said the wrong thing. he tips his head back, inhaling deeply and exposing the long column of his throat. his fingers flex against the wood of the podium.
"s-sure, i'd— i'd like that," he manages, attempting a smile. your heart soars.
"i just n-need to finish up some, uh, stuff in here so— so i can, um, meet you later, if that works!" it comes out in a rush, suguru's breaths growing laboured. you nod ecstatically, thinking that this could not have gone better. waving in farewell, you skip out the door, practically floating down the hallway.
as you're about to round the corner, you realize a familiar weight is missing from your pocket. fuck, in all the excitement, you forgot your phone! you rush back the way you came, opening the door only to be greeted with a flushed suguru and a mussed satoru, wiping at his mouth.
"oh! hey!" suguru's voice is a little shrill, eyes wide. "satoru just popped by to help me with my— my, um, stuff! he just got here and now he's leaving!"
your brows crease in confusion. you didn't see satoru in the hallway.
"he teleported here," suguru says hurriedly in explanation. "you know how he is, always breaking the rules!" he huffs out a laugh but it sounds manufactured. your eyes dart over to satoru, who's levelling you with a cool stare. you suddenly have the inescapable sense that you are prey.
"i do enjoy breaking the rules," satoru intones, voice laden with meaning. he ignores the warning look suguru shoots him and takes a step toward you, the knees of his pants visibly dirty.
"and i'm even more willing to break rules —laws, even— to protect what's mine," satoru says darkly, eyes never leaving yours. the bouquet sits on the table, forgotten. silence hangs heavy in the room, broken only by suguru's nervous laughter.
"that's satoru, always a jokester!" he titters with too much levity, but you think that you've never heard satoru sound more serious. you have no idea what he's talking about but the urge to leave overwhelms you, satoru's eyes following your every move as you snatch up your phone and scurry from the room.
you pause down the hall, panting. sighing to yourself, you think that the third time has to be the charm. suguru agreed to a date, after all, and that's a win in your books. you straighten, shaking out your hair. valentine's day isn't over yet; you have plenty of time to make him yours. he basically is already, you think giddily as you set off in search of shoko.
****
"you want to what?"
"surprise suguru while he's sleeping!" you exclaim excitedly. "i texted him to see when he wanted to meet up for coffee and he said he's feeling a little tired from his cold, so he's gonna take a nap and meet me after."
shoko looks you up and down, raising an eyebrow. "and you want to break into his room and surprise him."
you nod enthusiastically. "that's why i need your key to his room!"
"he gave that to me for emergencies," shoko sighs, handing over the key from her pocket. she takes a long drag from her cigarette, exhaling slowly.
"you sure you wanna do this?" she asks, sounding like she knows something you don't. you brush it off, practically vibrating with excitement.
"of course! i know he'll love it!" your smile is eager and the corners of shoko's lips quirk upwards, like she's suppressing a smile. she shrugs, sliding her hands into her pockets as she turns to leave. "up to you, i guess. go for it."
shoko heads down the hallway and you're bouncing on your feet with excitement. the gigantic sign you made with yours and suguru's names encapsulated by a massive heart is tucked under one arm, glitter flaking off onto the floor as you stride purposefully to his room. it's only six p.m and he said he'd be up by six thirty, so he's definitely fast asleep right now. it's the perfect time to surprise him.
your heart thunders in your chest as you pick up the pace towards his door. you won't hesitate this time. you're sure of yourself and you're sure about how much he's going to love you.
not wasting a second, you take shoko's key and slide it into the door. not wanting to wake him rudely from sleep, you turn it quietly, thinking that you'll gently wake him up with the sign and a smile. you grin to yourself as the lock clicks, shivering in anticipation.
as you silently push the door open, the first thing your ears pick up on is a rhythmic thumping noise, like a bed banging against the wall. it's dark, so you can't quite see anything and you squint, trying to adjust to the low light.
"ah, suguru, harder!" your blood runs ice cold, your heart plummeting to your feet as every single hair on your body stands on end. you can only stand there, gobsmacked, as your eyes adjust to two figures moving beneath a blanket on suguru's bed.
"nngh, baby, right there!" moans a voice that is unmistakably satoru's. you're frozen in place, sign clutched loosely in one hand. you hear suguru chuckle and the bed squeak as he flips them over.
"you like that?" he asks breathlessly, smirk audible in his voice. you've never felt so fucking ashamed as the blanket falls off suguru's shoulders, exposing his toned back as he hikes satoru's leg further over his shoulder. the muscles of his ass are flexing as his hips thrust relentlessly, long hair cascading down his back.
paralyzed with shock, your hand suddenly relaxes and the sign clatters to the floor. you can't do anything but stand there in horror as suguru whips his head around, eyes blown wide in panic. he yelps at the sight of you, yanking the blanket over his shoulders, covering himself and satoru.
he scrambles up the bed and satoru's white head pops up from beneath the blanket, cheeks flushed. there's a horrible moment where everyone just stares at each other.
"i wasn't— i'm just— i'm sorry, i didn't mean—" your heart is in your throat, ears flaming red with humiliation. you want nothing more than to leave but your feet are plastered to the floor, imprisoning you in this nightmare.
"that's right, bitch," satoru huffs smugly, clearly out of breath. he looks like he would flip his hair if it was long enough. "he's mine."
you're utterly speechless as suguru pushes at satoru's shoulder, rolling his eyes. "it's not a crime to be nice, satoru. they were just trying to express their feelings on valentine's day."
he meets your horrified gaze, eyes kind. "i am afraid, though, that i am a taken man."
you can only watch as he brushes his hair out of his eyes, smiling gently. "i'd still love to hang out with you though, as friends."
"that—that's okay," you blurt, voice shrill. with shaking hands, you lean down to grab your sign, attempting to obscure it from view.
"h-happy valentine's day!" the speed with which you flee suguru's room is only rivalled by usain bolt's iconic 100m dash at the 2008 olympics.
you eventually make it out to the quad, finding shoko smoking on the steps. you look at her, eyes full of despair, and she just laughs.
you don't see suguru and satoru for the rest of the day, both because you're avoiding them and because they never leave suguru's room. sitting dejectedly in your room while tearing the sign into pieces, you think morosely that valentine's day should be renamed to S.A.D: Single Awareness Day. or perhaps Satoru is A Dick, because after today you've learned both are true. you know one thing for sure— you're never celebrating valentine's day again.
#my jjk fic#satosugu#suguru x reader#satosugu fluff#satosugu fanfic#stsg fic#stsg#stsg fluff#satosugu smut#stsg smut#geto x reader#stsg x reader#jjk#geto suguru#gojo satoru#geto suguru fanfiction#geto smut#gojo smut#satoru smut#suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto x you#suguru x you#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk imagines#geto x gn reader#jjk x gn!reader#gogeweek2024
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Crave [18+]
Warnings: Blood, dark content, toxic relationship, smut, spit, dumbification, Geto really is his own warning here
Pairing: Geto Suguru x Reader
Masterlist
Word Count: 2K
A/N: Y’all I’ve been holding onto this since like December, waiting for S2 of JJK to start, and here we are. I am not lying when I say I was possessed by something when I wrote this. Big thanks to @offendedfishnoises and in the words of @akazaapologist “Brett really said Suguru fucks nasty”
Leaning over the sink, you washed the blood off your hands watching as the red liquid swirled down the drain. Things didn’t go as you expected, but then again did they ever?
The dim lighting of the cheap, run down motel room didn’t do much in the way of visibility but you were used to it. Holing up here together for a few days, you slowly got used to it. The space was cramped but you were comfortable.
What you weren’t used to, was the man standing only a few feet away from you with his gaze zeroed in on your back. Trying your hardest, you pushed the thoughts of him to the back of your mind; there were more important things to do, like finding a way to get away with murder.
Looking down, you saw the blood on your shirt and let out a sigh. That was another cute shirt ruined. Once your hands were clean, you reached to lift the bottom of your shirt before you felt a pair of hands take your waist.
Jumping in surprise, you turned to see Geto invading your space. His hair was down already, framing his face perfectly and his shirt halfway unbuttoned.
“G–Geto, I need to–”
“No need for the formalities sweetheart,” he grinned.
“Suguru–” his name barely left your lips before he pulled you closer. Watching his name fall from your lips as they sounded each syllable had him ready to make you scream it for hours on end.
You watched as his massive frame caged you in against the wall, dark eyes tracing every movement you made. Before you could even think, you felt a pair of lips on your neck, pulling soft sounds from you. "You have any fucking idea how much I crave you?" His voice rumbled against your throat, making your knees weak.
Supporting your weight with his thigh between your legs, you couldn’t resist the urge to grind your hips against it as he made quick work of ridding you of your shirt. Tossing it behind him, Suguru grinned against the skin of your throat before pulling you along to the musty old bed, the mattress creaking as he almost threw you on it in desperation.
Barely able to catch your breath, Suguru was on top pinning you down to the mattress as he claimed your lips with his, a low groan rumbling in his chest that had you shivering in place.
Holding your hands beside your head, Suguru slotted himself between your legs with his hips rutting against yours at a slow rhythmic pace that had you moving in his hold trying to get more.
Breaking the kiss, Suguru looked down at you and your flustered expression. Lips swollen and kiss-bitten, eyes glossy and the cutest pout he’s seen. With a wink, Suguru took off your pants before moving lower.
“This pussy so good,” he hummed as he teasingly slid your panties down your thighs. “Can’t wait to eat every last bit of cum I can,”
Suguru’s filthy words made you squeak in response. No matter how many times he said something like this, you weren’t used to it feeling your face heat up each time.
Your thoughts were interrupted by Suguru throwing your thighs over his shoulders as he got right down to business and licked several long stripes through your folds effectively taking your breath away.
Hands flying to his hair, you couldn’t help but pull him closer. Arching into his touch, you couldn’t fight the pleas begging him to keep going.
“S–Sugu–!” You felt him moan, the sound rumbling against your aching core as he peaked up at you with a dangerous look in his eyes. If you didn’t know better, you’d say Suguru did this for your pleasure.
But you did know better; Suguru ate pussy for his pleasure, not yours. There was nothing more he wanted than to have his face buried between your thighs at all times; in bed, in the car, hell even at the table.
Suguru loved the taste of you on his tongue, especially after he’d spent hours fucking you sensless so your cum was streaked with his. The way your thighs would tense around his head, keeping him in place as you pulled his hair drove him further.
There was nothing he loved more than having you unravel beneath him, reduced to nothing but a whimpering cum-covered mess. And that was exactly what he was going to do.
Your moans turned into cries, as he brought you closer to your climax almost begging him to let you cum. The way his hands gripped your thighs were sure to leave prints, as he devoured your sweet cunt.
Barely able to make out the mumbled words over your moans, you heard him say “Mine, all mine.” over and over as his tongue worked you into a state of pure bliss, cumming all over his face.
The lewd sounds of him slurping up your juices, with the occasional creak of the bed filled the room before he sat up and brushed his hair back with one hand while the other spread your lips to give him a view of his good work.
“Look at my baby, all worked up with that look on her face.” he hummed, “You’d think I just spent hours fucking you repeatedly.”
You watched as he removed his fingers from your pussy, and started to unbutton his shirt the rest of the way with your desire leaving stains on the fabric. Suguru knew how to rile you up, and with the way he was looking at you while he undressed had you squirming.
“Sugu–” you whined, eyes darting down to the v-shaped muscle of his hips where his pants were unbuttoned and his bulge pressing though.
“Need you, need you in me–”
There was a deep rumbling sound you knew to be his laughter, clearly amused at the sight of you eyeing him over begging to be filled with his cock.
Shoving his pants down to his knees, you could see the outline of his cock through his boxers with a wet patch forming. The sight made your mouth water, you needed his cock and you didn’t care where he shoved it. All you knew was that you needed it in you, and you needed it now.
Using his thighs to keep yours apart, Suguru leaned over you with his hair falling over his face. Having him this close, you could see streaks of your cum coating his mouth and chin, along with a streak of blood over his forehead. You knew he was a messy eater, but this was a different level of messy.
“Like what you see, sweetheart?” he hummed, pressing his hips against yours making you gasp softly at the contact.
Opening your mouth to speak, you didn’t get a word out before Suguru pressed his thumb to your tongue with a malicious grin on his face. “Of course you do, why else would you beg for me to fuck you?”
Moving closer, he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck keeping your mouth open continuing to move his hips against yours. Suguru thrived off the pitiful moans you made, wriggling under his body as he pressed you deeper into the mattress.
“Look at the way you’re drooling all over my thumb,” slapping your ass with his free hand before moving it up your body to your throat. Pressing your tongue harder, Suguru watched your eyes go wide as he tightened his grip around your throat cutting off your airflow just enough to make your mind go fuzzy.
“So pretty like this, and all mine.” Removing his thumb from your mouth, Suguru pressed his lips to yours.
His kiss was intoxicating, pulling every ounce of breath from your lungs as his hips continued to roll against yours, teasing you with the length of his clothed cock. Suguru was dangerous, you knew he was the second you met him. But it wasn’t the murder or the crimes he committed that made him dangerous; it was the way he had you drunk on nothing but his kiss making you pliable in any way he wanted.
The way he kissed you was messy. Messy, nasty and so fucking addicting with how his teeth clashed against yours, spitting in your mouth as he sucked on your tongue claiming you as his in every way he knew how.
Suguru Geto was toxic, dangerous and it only made you want him more.
With your fingers tangled in his hair, Suguru only grinned as he slowly removed his boxers, sighing in relief as his cock sprang free bouncing off your hips.
“Feel what you do to me, huh sweetheart?” he groaned. “Feel how hard you make me with your sweet cunt and pretty little mouth?”
Whines were the only thing to leave your lips, feeling the swollen tip of his cock stroke through your folds as he teased you mercilessly with the very thought of having inside you, splitting you in half with the sheer size of it.
“Sugu–Sugu, please–” you nibbled on his lips, tugging on his hair with your thighs pushed up to give him better access. “–hurts how much I need you–”
A high pitched squeal was pulled from you as Suguru pulled his hips back just enough to rub the head of his cock against your opening, coating it in your sweet nectar. The smell of sex was in the air, as you gasped for breath feeling him bully his fat cock in you slowly thrusting until he was buried to the hilt.
His moans mixed with yours, his breath fanning over your face as he continued his pace keeping his grip on your throat accompanied with the sound of the bed creaking and thudding into the wall with each thrust of his hips.
“I wanna hear–fuck–wanna hear you say it.” he grunted. “Say you’re mine,”
“Yours–all yours–”
Granting you with another kiss, Suguru grinned as he picked up the pace moaning against your lips feeling your nails dig into his back. “That’s my girl, let me hear how good my cock feels stretching that tight little pussy of yours.”
Your moans picked up, matching the pace of his hips as you clawed down his back crying his name; begging him to keep going. Nothing in your life had ever felt this good, not even when you were drunk trying to forget the horrors you’ve committed. Suguru knew how to make you forget, almost like he was trying to forget himself.
Hearing his breaths speed up, you knew he was close and from the way you were clinging to him Suguru knew you were too.
“Come on baby, cum on my cock and let me fill you; stuff you full with mine.” He panted, “Let me mark you as mine, all fucking mine.”
Nodding your head, you arched into his chest drawing blood from his back as he brought you closer to your climax.
“You’re mine,” he growled. “If anyone even thinks about touching you, I’ll rip them apart.”
Listening to his words made you desperate, you’d be lying if you said Suguru’s possessiveness wasn’t hot, or the way he had to be the only one allowed to touch you made you feel things you never have before.
“Sugu–fuck!” you felt your body shake from the force of your orgasm, panting heavily as he thrusted his hips a few more times before filling you with his hot seed, moaning against the skin of your throat.
“So fucking good for me baby,” he hummed. “Pussy so fucking good, lips so good–fuck it’s like you were made to take my cock.”
Your hands were in his hair now, threading it through your fingers as the two of you laid there letting the atmosphere settle around you. Suguru wasn’t a man to say what he was feeling, but the way he pressed soft kisses to the base of your throat as he held you close told you all you needed to know.
He cared, in his own fucked up way, Suguru cared and that’s what mattered.
“How about we shower?” you hummed, looking down at him.
Glancing up at you with those beautifully haunting eyes of his, you could see the smile behind them. “Sounds like a plan sweetheart,”
Taglist: @offendedfishnoises @akazaapologist @pinksthetics @hex-the-rabbit @nanaoise08squad @loafingdragon @awalkingshame @strawberrystepmom (girl you get a tag because I know you’d love it) @meowzfordayz @shinox
#Costly Affairs#Geto Suguru#Geto Suguru smut#Geto Suguru x reader#Geto Suguru x you#Geto Suguru x y/n#Geto Suguru reader instert#Geto Suguru fic#Geto Suguru fanifc#Geto Suguru fanfiction#Jujutsu Kaisen fic#Jujutsu Kaisen smut
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blond o sonic shimmer trap by the arctic monkeys, geto, any sort you want, curious to see how you interpret the lyrics if you do pick my ask :3
WC: 1.7k
CW: suggestive, reader has female pronouns, reader is a bit unhinged, kinda stalkerish behavior from geto, nothing serious though
Notes: i'll admit i had a bit of trouble with this one, but i also had a lot of fun and liked how it turned out!! thanks for sending this in nonnie!! but let me know what you think of how i interpreted the lyrics!!
listen to this while reading
taglist: @arlerts-angel @ponderingmoonlight (lmk if you want to be added to the event taglist!)
Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation
The first time he saw you you were dancing. The sparkling of your black dress had caught his attention, drawing his eyes past the flashing strobe lights and crowd of writhing bodies straight towards you. It was almost like you were calling out to him, telling him to watch.
And so he did. He watched as you twirled and swayed and moved with the music, dancing with wild abandon. Your dancing wasn’t particularly skilled, but there was something so raw, so real, about the way you moved. Something that compelled the viewer to want to get to know you.
Black as a beacon
In a river of shimmering fog
But Geto Suguru was not known for his forwardness when it came to interacting with women, particularly pretty women. So week after week he returned to watch you dance, always from a distance, never approaching you. In that time, he was only able to learn three things about you.
One: you were always wearing what he came to identify as your signature red lipstick. It was a unique shade, equal parts dark and bright that drew attention to the shape of your mouth. And he paid a lot of attention to your mouth.
Fighting back his intrusive thoughts and vivid imagination he watched your mouth move as you sang along to songs. He watched the way your lips parted when you threw your head back, exposing the long column of your throat when you were fully immersed in a song. He always watched you, entranced by your spirit.
Two: you went to the club to dance every Friday night. It took him a little while to figure that out, but once he did he made sure he was always free on Friday.
And finally, three: you were always alone. In the months he had spent watching you, he had never seen someone with you. You arrived alone, and you left alone. You didn’t seem like someone who would be hard pressed for friends, so this oddity only served to pique his interest more.
She was hard to ignore
Yes she was
He didn’t realize how much he had come to depend on his weekly sightings of you until you stopped showing up. For four weeks straight there was no sign of you, and it was unnerving. He immediately jumped to worst case scenarios and feared he would never see you again.
As soon as that thought entered his head, he immediately regretted not approaching you sooner. God he was such an idiot. He should have gotten to know you when he still had the chance, when you still showed up every week, instead of being such a goddamn coward. He promised himself that if he ever did see you again, he wouldn’t let his anxiety get the better of him. Next time he saw you he would say something.
So when he walked in the fifth week of you not being there and spotted you, he made a beeline straight towards where you were dancing, not allowing himself a chance to second-guess himself.
“Excuse me!” He has to shout to get your attention, and he taps you on the shoulder for good measure. You turn, and his breath catches in his chest when your eyes finally meet his. “U-uh hi.”
You squint at him, then your eyes light up in recognition. “It’s you!! Stalker guy! Finally grew some balls and approached me, huh?”
Stalker guy?!? You think he’s been stalking you? Well, technically he was, but he wasn’t trying to be creepy or anything. He just found you intriguing. He opens his mouth to say as much, but you cut him off with a laugh.
“Oh my god, the look on your face!!” You wheeze, folding over with the force of your mirth. Straightening you wipe a tear away and catch your breath. “Don’t worry. I didn’t think you were creepy or anything.”
You lean in, so close he can feel your breath hitting the shell of his ear, causing a full body shudder to run through him. “In fact, I was a little flattered that a man as attractive as you would go out of their way to watch little ol’ me.”
“Come outside with me.” He blurts before he can stop the words from leaving his mouth. Surprised, you jerk back a bit and peer into his face and he can tell your guard was up. “Why…?”
Realizing how it sounded, he immediately backtracked. “No no, I just mean I want to talk! To get to know you. I’ve regretted not getting your number for the last couple of weeks and you seem really interesting and I’m so sorry that is not how I meant it-”
“Okay.” Your simple reply cuts through his flustered rambling. “I’d like to get to know you too.”
And as you take his hand and lead him outside, a thrill runs through him, and he can’t help but wonder if every second with you was going to be this entertaining.
Well, time tastes bland
When she's not around
Stepping out into the cool night air, the two of you stand there for a moment taking in the refreshing feel of the breeze.
“So.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “I don’t know what you had in mind, but I’m in the mood for a drive. What do you say? I didn’t drink and my car is right over there.” You gesture towards the left, in the direction of a volkswagen beetle.
“Sure. Sounds good to me.” He smiles at you. He always takes a taxi to the club in case he has a drink, so it’s not like there’s anything keeping him there. “Shall we?”
You grin at him and skip off to your car. His heart skips a beat, and all he can think about is what he has to do to make you grin like that again. He could look at your smile all day. However, his internal simping was cut off by you yelling.
“Motherfucker!” You’re staring at the side of your car, then turn your furious gaze on the Cadillac parked haphazardly next to you. Hurrying over, he looks at what you’re looking at and understands why you’re upset. The car next to you had left a long scratch on the driver’s side of your car when pulling in, and instead of leaving their information, they had left a post-it. A post-it with a cheeky ‘sorry’ scrawled across it hastily.
“Sorry??!” You growl, rage radiating off you. “If you were sorry you would fucking pay for it!!!”
And before he can intervene, you let out a cry of rage and rip the side mirror of the offending car. For a moment all is silent and the two of you just stare at the mirror in your hands. You, with perplexed satisfaction, and him with shock.
Eventually you break the stunned silence. “Well, the asshole had it coming.” His eyes snap up to meet yours and the two of you dissolve into hysterical laughter.
Yep. Things were never boring when you were around.
And she snapped
Wing mirrors off of Cadillacs
The particularly pretty ones
He can tell you’re up to something when a flash of mischief crosses your face and you unlock your car. He watches with anticipation as you fish your tube of lipstick, a sticky note, and a ballpoint pen out of your glove compartment.
Quickly, you reapply your lipstick and kiss the mirror, leaving an imprint of your lips on it before balancing it on the windshield of the Cadillac. Then you spin around and write something on the sticky note, not letting him see what it says before slapping it on the car next to the mirror and getting into your own car. Gesturing for him to get in the passenger seat, you wait until he’s in and buckled before peeling out of the lot.
You glance over at him, and as soon as you make eye contact the two of you are howling with laughter again. Once he calmed down enough to speak, he asked what you wrote on the post it note between gasping peals of laughter.
“Oh, that?” You smirk. “So sorry about your car!! I didn’t want to have to bend down to reapply my lipstick.”
“No you didn’t.” You look at him solemnly. “I did.”
The two of you were sent into yet another fit of laughter, the sound ringing out from your car, filling the cool night air with your joy.
And that
Meant she never had to strain her back
When she was putting her lippy on
While that night had been the first you spent hanging out and driving around aimlessly, it certainly wasn’t the last. There was something addictive about you, from the way you simply didn’t care what others thought, to the sound of your laugh. God, he could spend the rest of his life listening to your laugh.
Throughout the course of the many nights spent causing mischief and laughing he got to see the different sides of you. Sure, he was first interested in you because of how carefree and wild you were, but as he got to know you better, he realized that that was but one facet of your incredibly complex personality.
You could be mischievous and wild and carefree, sure, but you were also immensely kind, as well as insanely smart and you had a melancholy side at times. But your complexity only added to his growing feelings towards you.
While it was your wild side that ensnared him at first, it was you as a complicated and messy whole that made him fall in love. And he couldn’t have been happier that you trapped his heart at first sight because if you hadn’t he wouldn’t have met the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with.
She floats like a niccy rush but she stings like a B-flat
The Blond-o-Sonic Shimmer Trap
#lee's brain writes#lee's brain writes: requests#lee's song fic event#geto x reader#suguru x reader#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto x reader#geto x you#suguru x you#geto x female reader#jjk x reader#jjk x female reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fanfiction#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fluff#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru fluff
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❝ 𝐒𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘, 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ! ❞
❝ HONESTLY, I CAN'T BELIEVE I GET TO CALL YOU MINE !! ❞
✧ pairing: professor! suguru geto x reader
✧ summary: it's your first valentine's day as a couple with suguru, but he's away for a conference in another city -- and you understand you do, but you can't help but miss him -- so what happens when he ends up surprising you?
✧ warnings: so fluffy!!, suggestive, mentions of nsfw, implications of smut, reader has graduated from her program, set after the events of the main series (including every part), these two idiots are so in love its ridiculous, lingerie mention, wearing his glasses and button down
✧ wc: 1,206
“I’m sorry I have to be away,” you smile at Suguru through the screen, knowing that you’d kiss his furrowed brow away if he was here, before finding his lips with yours. “This conference was last minute, I wish I didn’t have to go, but Yaga left me little choice but to go,”
You shake your head, “We can celebrate when you come back, it’s not a big deal anyway. Just means you have more to make up for on White Day,” you tease, and he laughs, a smile on his lips for the first time the entire call, “don’t worry ok? I’m really not upset,”
“I know, it’s just our first Valentines together and I know you had planned something for us. I really wanted it to be special,” his lips purse, arms crossed as he looks almost utterly hopeless (far too cute) and you can’t help but chuckle, “what?”
“Never thought my hardass professor could be such a romantic,” you smirk, as his cheeks are tinted with a lovely red, “should I be giving you a poor grade for your tardiness?”
He rolls his eyes, as his lips curl again in a smile that can’t seem to escape your presence, “Well, while I’ll definitely be making it up with some extra credit, I’d appreciate my favorite student to cut me a little slack,”
“I recall you cutting me very little slack that first day,”
“On the contrary, I think I was very kind, especially considering you were late to the very first class—“
“And what is this weekend?” You say in mock thought, “our first Valentine’s Day?” He huffs, and you smile in victory, “is this the first headache I’ve given you?”
“Today? Yes,” and you gape at him, and it’s his turn to smirk, “I love you,”
And your gaze grows soft, “I love you too, call me after the conference is done for today?”
“You know I will,” and you both share your goodbyes and you’re left by yourself, as you lay back on your bed, a pout on your lips. Suguru had offered to let you stay at his place, but you know it would have only made you miss him more — being surrounded by his things, his scent, his clothes. You sighed as you buried your face in your pillow, glancing at the picture the two of you had taken in Kyoto at one of the local shrines, almost taunting you.
He’d be back soon enough — right?
Sorry I haven’t been able to call again. It’s been a lot of late nights — too many networking dinners. I’ll call you tonight.
It has been two nights now, and it was Valentine’s Day tomorrow. You had barely gotten a minute to speak to Suguru since your call with him on Friday. You sighed, sending him a picture of you in his button up you stole, along with his spare glasses he had left at your place, can we have a networking meeting? I’ll send an invite to your calendar.
I’ll clear my schedule. You smile.
Another message, as soon as I get back.
You pout, you expected as much — you shouldn’t have dated such an indemand academic. The horrors of academia.
You laid back, forearm over your forehead as you stare back at your blank ceiling. It was fine, you really understood that he was busy, but you just — turning on your side to stare at his smiling face in the framed image on your bedside table before your eyes flutter shut — missed him.
You stir awake to lips pressed at your neck, soft kisses that draw you from the heavy arms of sleep, as your eyes flutter open to see Suguru, at your side.
“Sugu?” And his fingers trace your jaw, as your brow furrows in confusion, “but isn’t it—“
“Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetheart,” he pulls a bouquet of flowers from behind him — an arrangement of your favorites, as you blink, brain seemingly struggling to keep up, “you okay?”
Your fingers find his cheek, “is this a dream?” And he chuckles, as he leans down to plant a sweet kiss on your lips, before his fingers lightly pinch your cheek. And you’re sitting up only to jump into his arms, a gasp on his lips, as he chuckles, arms curling around you, raking his fingers through your hair. The bouquet lays forgotten on the side because truly the best gift was in your arms.
“I missed you too,” he chuckles, as you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his scent, as if he’d disappear any second.
You lean back to look up at him, “What are you doing back early?”
“Made a deal with Yaga that I’d go to all the networking events he wanted, if he let me leave last night,” he kisses your forehead, “surprised?”
“I am, the best surprise,” you find his lips in another kiss, “I was fine with you being busy, but I just missed you so much. It reminded me of all the time we had to spend apart — and I just know I can’t spend another minute without you,” you bite your lip, “I was going to wait until the end of the night, but,” you bite your lip, “I know we discussed moving in before — and I think I’m ready to,”
He blinks, before a smile breaks out on his lips, “Are you sure?” And you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him, lips sliding against his, as your hands slide back to cup his cheeks.
You part, barely a breath apart, as you press your forehead against his, “Never been more sure of anything in my life — it’s definitely owed to us now, don’t you think?”
He snorts, his eyes shining, as he presses another gentle kiss to your forehead, “Should we start looking for a place now?” And you grin, as you climb into his lap, a tilt of your head.
“Don’t you want your Valentine’s Day gift?” You ghost kisses along his jawline, drawing a gasp from his lips, your hands guiding his own under his shirt you had stolen, “I had worn it last night just to try it on, but now,” you undo a few buttons of his shirt, a hint of red lace peeking through the undone collar.
His clothed cock twitches through his slacks, as his fingers pull yours away, to undo the last remaining buttons to show a red and pink lingerie set — red lace hugged the outline of body with red hearts dotting along the design, sheer blush fabric left barely anything of your breasts and cunt to the imagination — not that he needed to imagine — he had practically memorized every curve and corner of your body.
“Well?” And his fingers pull his shirt off of your body, as he’s gotten you pinned to the bed, as you giggle, lips parted, “I also baked you some sweet treats, baby,”
His lips curl, as he leans down to meet your lips, as his breath warms your lips and his words warm your heart, “There’s only one sweet thing I want, right now.”
The two of you never did get around to looking for a place together — not until the next day.
✧ a/n: this was supposed to come out earlier, but i fell asleep because i slept badly last night and ended up reading a manhwa when i got tired of trying to sleep. wrote this fic listening to laufey's valentine :) i also didn't tag everyone since this was kind of a last minute thing - sorry guys <;3
✧ taglist: @spider-fan72, @grunge-mo0n, @ameri-blog, @kentocalls, @peachyminx, @forest-fruits-jam, @hanxyy, @flyingtranscatofeffed, @sunflowmaryam, @regrettinglifechoices, @sugurus-fave-monkey, @atomicbxtch, @shinylightsalad
#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto fanfiction#geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto fanfiction#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru fluff
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i want to create a series of gojo and geto (x fem!reader) au fanfics,, but i don’t know which to pick, please help🙁
#loafgeto#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk fanfic#gojo fanfic#geto fanfic#gojo satoru fanfic#geto suguru fanfiction#gojo x reader#gojo x you#suguru geto x reader#geto x reader#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto smut#gojo smut
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౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ midnight love
⠀ ꒰ . . geto suguru x gn reader ꒱ . . . word count; 0.7k
⊹ ⠀⠀ heartbreak is a cycle. over, and over, and over again.
contains; geto suguru x gn reader, angst, geto dumped you and you can't get over it, mentions abandonment and attachment issues, lots of reader insecurities, womp womp
author's note; hey ! XD
"you really can't be calling me at this hour anymore." suguru's voice is faint. he's likely just woken up from a deep slumber, probably dreaming of something far more interesting and attractive than you are, but that isn't a dream that you'd like to picture. he did this to you.
sometimes, he needs to see what your nightmares look like.
"i'm sorry, it's just that i've been thinking about everything again." clearing your throat, you can't help but notice that your voice can't stop shaking. get a grip of yourself. you're embarrassing. "i feel like we made a mistake. it's not crazy to try things again; we know what went wrong so let's just fix it this time. right? we can be even better this time around."
you know the hopefulness slipping from your tongue is something that suguru has grown to hate. he hates the guilt that it makes him feel. he hates the reminders of a time where he was so madly in love with you that he couldn't imagine sleeping through one of your sporadic phone calls in the middle of the night. he hates how it reminds him how hard you sobbed when he said those three little words. not 'i love you'...but 'let's break up'.
he hates that it makes him regret things.
so instead, he forces you to bottle it all up.
"i'm not interested anymore, i've told you that." the sound of your poorly mended heart shattering once more is far too familiar. "seriously, we crashed and burned so let's just leave it at that."
this is the third time he's said these words. the first being an hour after he dumped you over the phone, when you called him back amidst uncontrollable sobs and he didn't seem to care all that much. the second being a month after what would've been your first anniversary together, to which he was careless with your heart as you poured it out to him on his doorstep. now, the third, where it's been a whole three months since your untimely break up and your sleep has been lost to you for yet another night.
...and he still doesn't care.
he doesn't care about you.
he doesn't care at all.
why doesn't he care?
"suguru, please." it's pathetic to beg, but what else can you do? "i love you. i want to be with you and i'm willing to do anything to make it work. c'mon, work with me, here." just say yes. just say yes and maybe you'll smile again.
he takes a deep breath. you can count down the seconds until he exhales.
three.
you envision a scenario where he bolts from his bed, frantically grabs his jacket, and drives straight to your house. his hand hovers over the front door, ready to knock, when you fling it open and then fling yourself into his arms. suguru laughs at your eagerness, gently gripping your face beneath your jaw and kissing you tenderly. god, it's been so long since you felt his kisses. you could cry from the overwhelming happiness in your heart. the overwhelming joy that he never fails to make you feel when he's truly and completely in love with you, too.
two.
you recall one of your favorite dreams, one just a few nights ago, where suguru had never broken up with you in the first place. in fact, he thinks the mere thought is comically funny. he'd never ends things. you're the best thing that's ever happened to him and he never fails to tell you that at every hour of the day. he's the perfect boyfriend. he's the ideal husband. he's the man that you've been wishing for for your entire life...but he really is just that. he's a dream.
one.
"i don't love you anymore."
oh...
oh.
you wish this were a scenario. you wish you were sleeping. you wish he could've said anything other than those awful words, but this is reality. dreams don't reflect reality. dreams aren't real. his love for you isn't real. he doesn't love you. he doesn't want you. he doesn't need you. give up. give up. stop making a fool of yourself.
"but i love you."
pathetic.
you're pathetic.
the sigh he exhales is pitiful.
he's so obviously aware of how clingy you've become in your lonesome life that he's not even surprised by your behavior. he's not surprised by your confession. it's almost as if he expected it. he knows your flaws. he knows your stance on abandonment...on attachment...on absence. he knows you can't possibly function in a world without him...
...and he hangs up.
⋆⋆⋆⠀ ⠀thank you for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated!
#im running out of manga panels to use#WOMP WOMP#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto x reader#geto x you#geto x y/n#geto fanfiction#geto fanfic#geto ff#geto angst#geto blurb#geto drabble#geto fic#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto angst#suguru x reader#suguru geto x you#suguru x you#suguru geto fanfiction#suguru geto fanfic#suguru geto ff#geto suguru fanfic#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru ff#geto hc#geto hcs#jjk x reader
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Ooh…what about defected!Geto falling in love with a non-sorcerer? And there’s no internal conflict for him, it’s more like he saw her, and somehow everything clicked into place. The attraction is undeniable, the chemistry is palpable, and it’s like his entire world is now tilted on an axis to a new, different Sun — her.
Sypnosis - Eyes that glance at others with hatred could only gaze at you as if you had hung the moon and each individual star.
Warning(s) - canon JJK violence, mature themes, foul language, this is so sickly sweet I am WEAK
! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !
It’s not like he meant for this to happen.
But the way that you regarded him with such a softened voice and with hands gentler than the finest silk had him wrapped around your finger — seeking more of that sweet affection that you provided to him.
The way that your eyes shone the moment you noticed him entering a room, the way that you scooted closer to him, the way that you hung off of his every word.
He knew that he shouldn’t care about you — you were the personification of everything that he hated. A weak non-sorcerer who could do nothing when it came to defending oneself.
And yet here he was, wanting nothing more than to shield you and protect you from the dangers of the world.
“There you are.” Your soft voice wraps around Geto and lightly pulls him from whatever trance he had unknowingly fallen victim to. His head turns to watch as you enter, his lips turning upward in a lovesick smile.
“Apologies love, were you searching for me?” Geto inquires curiously, his eyes fluttering shut as your lips press sweetly against his forehead.
“Not me, the girls were asking for you,” you respond, lowering yourself down to sit at Geto’s side, sitting in between his outstretched legs. He smiles again, hand instinctively extending to lay against your leg, his thumb rubbing back and forth affectionately against your skin.
“Were they?”
“They were. Mimiko says that you promised her a tea party,” you say with a teasing raise of your eyebrow, one that Geto responds to with a shake of his head — though you don’t fail to notice the smile that he tries so hard to conceal.
Subconsciously, Geto moves himself closer to you, squeezing your leg and feeling his chest warm as you nestle into his shoulder, cheek pressing comfortably against the soft fabric of his robes.
“Did I now?” His shoulder rumbles against your cheek, his hand moving upward from your leg to stroke gentle circles into the small of your back. You hum against him, smiling as you nuzzle impossibly further into the warmth of his embrace.
You both sit in silence, but neither of you mind it. It allows Geto to think — reflect on everything that had led him up to the very position that he found himself in.
Geto knew that he was a terrible person, or rather, he was a terrible person by the standards that society constantly voiced. But shockingly, even with all of that, you loved him as if it were as easy as breathing.
You saw past what the others said about him, you didn’t just see Geto — you saw Suguru.
“Sugu?” you whisper sweetly, tilting your head to get a better look at your husband’s face. He turns to you, humming in response with a raised eyebrow — silently telling you to continue speaking. “I love you.”
Geto smiles, his eyes softening at you as he leans down, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. Sure, you were a non-sorcerer, you were the very thing that he wanted to protect. Never did he want to see a scratch on your body or a teardrop on your cheek. You redefined what life meant to him.
For a flickering moment, Geto forgets all that he had done. He forgets all of his venomous words and all of the blood that once stained his hands. All of it forgotten with a simple whisper — a declaration.
He pulls back from you just enough to lean his forehead against your own. “I love you more angel.”
#colonelarr0w#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fanfiction#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#suguru geto x reader#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru fanfiction#suguru geto fanfiction#geto x reader#geto fanfiction#geto x reader fluff#suguru geto x reader fluff#geto suguru x reader fluff
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illicit affairs
suguru geto x reader
*+:｡.｡ b4 u read ... f!reader, affairs/cheating, unrequited love, inspired by illicit affairs by taylor swift
a/n : probably rewrote this like twenty million times ... thank u taylor swift for so graciously putting this idea in my head after i disappeared off the face of earth for 8mo (^_^;)
soft linen sheets under soft sunset light and the smell of fresh musk filled your days, but you knew that you weren't the only one to wake up to it.
you knew suguru had a wife. he knew he was wrong, and so did you. both of you often question why you're still in this situation- this affair, but you couldn't pull yourself away from him.
the want and need for suguru to be with you for days on end only grew stronger. you wanted to wake up next to him every single day for the rest of your life.
but at the end of the day, you knew that you were the other woman.
"i'll see you thursday," a soft kiss lands on your cheek. "don't miss me too much, baby," suguru teases as he runs his hands down your sides.
"yeah.. sure," you fake a giggle as he plants another kiss on your neck before he's out the door, leaving you standing there lone in your cold, barren apartment.
you recently started to hate it when he'd call you "baby." to you, it's a term of endearment used towards someone who you love. but to him, it's used to describe the woman he sees a few times a week because infidelity got the best of him.
it's not something unknown that he doesn't feel the same about you as you do to him. he's older and wiser. he's got a wife, a good job, a home. all you have is yourself and your small apartment up the street from his own.
he doesn't reciprocate, but he knows how you feel. he could read you like a book. he knew he made you feel like a mess once he left, like a child that has just rummaged through a giant box of toys. suguru knows that no matter what he'd do, you'd stay.
and he knows very well that you'd ruin yourself a million times just to see him.
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk angst#geto suguru#geto x reader#geto x y/n#geto suguru fanfiction#geto suguru angst#geto angst#jujutsu geto#fanfiction
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