𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐨🍎

he lives for touch; any reason to touch you, he'll find it. subtle things like keeping a finger on your knee or thigh when sitting next to you, pulling your back towards his chest and resting his chin on your shoulder while standing, or 'readjusting' your clothes just so he can run his hands across your neck or waist. he thinks he's being slick with it but his touch lingers a little too long when he's needy.

he tells you he wants you without telling you, winding you up in the process; wanting you to figure out what he's feeling. he'll grip onto you a little tighter, run his hands up the back of your neck to lightly tug at your hair, pretend to lose track of conversation, replying with 'huh's' and 'what's' once you start to catch on. something about getting you to say it yourself makes him all the more hard.

he has stamina. once you both finish, he’ll lay there for a bit holding you and softly soothing your skin but soon enough his hands are roaming you again, whispering in your ear about how pretty you are, how good you feel, and how much he needs you.

he calls you when he's up late, wanting to hear you talk as a way to help him sleep but it only results in him touching himself to your tired voice and breathing.

he's a deep kisser. kissing you reminds him you're real and makes him lose any form of self control he has. he’s obsessed with keeping his mouth on you, both for your pleasure and his. he’ll smile against your skin for a moment while fucking, especially during your first few times, processing that this is actually happening. he kisses you after cumming just to stay close to you a little longer, biting at your bottom lip as he pulls away.

he sneaks into your room at night just to see you. he frequently blames it on sleepwalking but its happened too many times to be a coincidence.

he hates when other guys give you attention. he won't explicitly say when they manage to piss him off but theres evidence in the way he fucks you, even if he doesn’t recognise. leaving deeper hickeys than normal, imprints of his fingertips on your shoulders and hips from gripping you hard, and wanting to cum on you. anything that subconsciously makes it known you’re his, he’s satisfied.

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆

With everything else he had going for him, the fact that he sounded like that was just unfair.

You believe the man’s name is Suguru…you aren’t completely sure because you were too busy gawking to pay attention to anything he was saying when he introduced himself. 

Admittedly, when the woman at the front desk asked if you would be okay with a male masseuse, you were not expecting this. Him.

He was—god. He was hot.

Tall. Long black hair pulled into a bun at the base of his skull. Sharp jawed with even sharper eyes; seemingly purple when the sun hit them just right. His peculiar eyes matched the colour of his uniform, and although it was loose-fitting, you could still make out the shape of lean muscle underneath.

A murmur of your name brings you back to the present, and remembering he asked you a question, you nod.

“Yes, I’m comfortable.”

“Good,” He hums, and you swear you feel it between your legs.

God, maybe you were ovulating or something.

The towel is pulled down to the small of your back, and you shift as cool air feathers over your skin.

“Are there any areas you want me to avoid?”

You merely shake your head, not trusting what would come out of your mouth if you tried to answer him.

“Anything you want me to focus on?” 

Your thoughts immediately veer into whorish territory that has you shaking your head as if to physically expel them. 

Suguru moves around the room and a match strikes as he presumably lights another candle.

It takes a while to find your voice again, “My back and shoulders, if you don’t mind.”

A chuckle filters through the room. Deep and amused and sexy as all get out, “Of course not. It’s my job after all.”

You flush at the reminder and hear him move closer. The tips of his shoes come into view as he stops beside the bed.

“Let me know when you want to stop.”

That’s the only warning you get before his hands are on you. Work-worn and skilful, he lathers fragrant oil over your skin and works it deep into your pores. 

For a few minutes, his hands are tentative. Slow and studious as he notes your reactions to each touch and stows them away for later use.

He listens to the sigh that leaves your lips when he massages your shoulders. The groan when he works down the length of your back and the stifled giggle when he traces his fingertips along your ribs. Then once he has enough marked down, he grows more sure of himself. He maps out every curve and contour of your skin with kneads and rubs that have your eyes threatening to roll back. Knowing exactly when to ease up, when to be firmer and apply pressure and where to press and hold until you grunt in relief.

Whatever tension that tightened your body loosens under his touch. And you’re sure you’d leave as nothing more than a satisfied puddle by the time he was done.

The massage is steadily lulling you to sleep. But just when your eyes start to flutter shut, he moves to massage your legs. You blink when he pulls them apart, fingers pressing past soft flesh to smooth out all the knots underneath. Suguru skates up the soles of your feet, past your calves and the backs of your knees, then higher, higher until he gets to your thighs.

Your body stiffens again, and he must feel it because he stills for a moment. “Is everything okay?”

You try to give him an affirmative hum, but you’re shaking, and a particularly hard quake wracks through you when his hands move to your inner thighs.

He pauses when you don’t answer, and you have to clear your throat to get rid of the lump that attempts to form.

“I’m fine,” you say. While your voice comes out a little thin, you think you sounded convincing enough. 

You really hope you did.

“Good,” he answers and you allow a small sigh to leave you, “I’m going to move to your glutes now.”

Wait what? 

The sheet is pulled up over your ass, and you have no time to react or dwell on the cold because his warm palms immediately land on your skin. Both chasing and leaving more goosebumps in their wake. 

Something sparks low in your belly with each squeeze that’s delivered to the plush flesh. A small ember at first, then the longer he goes on, the more the ache builds. Slowly, it seeps between your legs in a fiery hot rush that has your panties clinging to you.

You feel Suguru's fingers catch along the lace, and your breath hitches.

“Is this pressure okay?”

Your nod is all he needs to work with newfound vigour. Moving between massaging your thighs, your ass and your hips until you can't even stop yourself from squirming anymore.

Heat blooms across your cheeks when he pauses, and you want the ground to swallow you whole because you know he sees it.

The desperation. The want. Possibly even the slick dampness of your ruined panties.

Embarrassment has you whispering an apology even as nerves bubble deep in your stomach, each pop so loud, you're sure he can hear it. But when you try to press your legs together, he stops you.

“Physiological responses are natural, you don’t need to apologise,” he says so gently, it makes you feel even worse. 

Whatever he was getting paid definitely wasn't enough to be dealing with clients like you.

Your chest expands with a deep breath as you try to make yourself calm down through sheer force of will.  You’re slowly coming back into yourself when his murmured question sets you off balance again.

“Would you like me to keep going?”

Something about the way he asks that is odd.

It lacks the professional lilt that all his earlier questions had as he assessed your discomfort. 

This time, it was low. Sensual. And hedged between a purr that would’ve made your thighs squeeze if he wasn't still holding them apart.

You take a moment to gather yourself, then you lift your head towards him, just barely. And yes, the moment you see the look on his face, you know for sure he isn't just talking about the massage.

Suguru’s eyes are dark as they drag over your face. Slow, patiently appraising and hungry as he takes in the flush of your cheeks and the pout of your plump lips. His pupils are blown so wide that only a small circle of violet remains.  

His head tilts in silent question, and you swallow as more heat spurs. Your chin dips in a small nod, and he shakes his head.  

“I need to hear you say it,” He demands in that sexy, soft-spoken rumble. “Out loud.”

You force out a breath and with it, throw your pride aside like it was weighing on you.

“Keep going,” you say. He merely arches a dark brow at you– as if waiting for more. It takes you a hot minute to figure out what it is, but once you do, you whisper the word bulldozes the last flimsy pillar of professionalism branched between the two of you: “Please?”

A beat of silence.

Then he smiles. Monolid eyes shape into small crescents that are a little too sharp at the edges.  Tipping with something dark. Like he's held back long enough, and your go-ahead is all he needed for the mask to crack.

It makes the hairs on your arms stand.

What the fuck did you just get yourself into?  

​

​

You still weren't sure, but you were in too deep to stop now.

You're sat on the edge of the bed, towel and panties long discarded, and your legs spread wide. 

The man between them holds you open, eyes crudely assessing as he stares down the apex of your thighs.

“What do you need?” he asks as his fingers stroke over trembling flesh. You don't answer right away, and eyes flicker up to yours. “I’m here for your pleasure, sweetheart. Tell me what you need.”

The words make your heart kicks little harder, and you feel yourself get wetter. Thighs slick with arousal and dripping down to the sheets below. He watches it all happen of course, but doesn’t rush you to answer.

“Your fingers.” You voiced quietly, and he hums low in the back of his throat. Gripping your skin a little harder.

“Want them inside this pretty pussy?” If he took too long, you were sure you’d cum from his voice alone. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t make you wait. Middle and ring fingers brush over your clit. Featherlight, but enough to make it twitch in need anyway. 

Your hips buck and before you can do something crazy like beg him, he promptly slides both digits into your cunt. The sound that comes out of your mouth makes you slap a hand over it, and he chuckles like he finds the reaction cute.

“You don't have to worry about staying quiet. The walls here are so thick they're practically soundproof.” You don't move fast enough, so he drives his fingers deeper into you as if trying to force the sounds out. You whine against your palm, and he brings his thumb down to work on your clit, “Let me hear you.”

Your hand falls. 

A moan cracks into the air, mingling with the sharp hiss that escapes him.

“Ah, there you go,” he kneels, and you think a part of you dies.

His head sinks between your thighs, tongue peeking out to drag a lavish lick up your slit that makes you shudder. Suguru groans against your pussy. Feral, desperate and deep enough that it vibrates through you in dizzying shockwaves. Then his mouth is everywhere, eating you out like it had no purpose before this. And free hand cupping your ass to bring you in impossibly closer.

His lithe fingers swirl despite your walls clenching tight around them. Moving as if they were looking for something.

You realise too late what it is. 

Only he curls them just right, and they find purchase against a spot that has your hand gripping his hair, trying to push him off.

You know what you felt like when you were about to cum, and this wasn’t that. This was too sleek, too intense to be a normal orgasm, but even when you try to warn the man, he doesn't let up.

“Can feel it,” He rasps after releasing your clit with a wet pop, “Give it to me.”

“I—fuck, wait,” Your trembling thighs close around his head as your orgasm hits you hard and fast, and you see him lift his mouth long enough to watch the burst of clear liquid that gushes from you. 

Your lips gape at the sight but he merely goes back and licks up every drop, mouth relentless– almost punishing–while incoherent sobs that vaguely sound like his name leave your mouth.

Your eyes are teary by the time he pulls back with his chin and lips glistening.

“That’s one,” he whispers, and you freeze, because why did he say that like there were a lot more to come? 

While trepidation makes your skin prickle, your pussy, ever the traitorous whore, twitches needily. Already rearing to go again. 

Suguru cups the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss, messy enough to make blood rush up your neck. He rolls his tongue around yours, flicking it as he did with your clit, making you taste yourself on him.

You hear the rasp of fabric as he moves between your legs, sliding his pants off but when you try to glance down, his hold on your neck tightens.

“Don't,” a few strands of his hair came loose and they brush over his forehead when he shakes his head, “You’ll panic if you look.”

The implication behind that statement, makes you pause. He thought you’d panic if you looked at his cock?

Just how big was he? 

“Don’t worry, I’ll go slow.” he waits until you nod before he covers your body with his, lining the flared tip of his length against your entrance and slowly pushing in. 

You have less than an inch seated inside when the girth makes you claw at his shirt.

“Oh,” you huff. Surprise colouring your tone. “I see why you told me not to look.”

His hips pause with your pained hiss. “Too much?”

“Yes,” your legs wrap around his waist. “Don't stop.”

He groans like you wounded him and sinks deeper, cock stretching you wide enough to make you stop breathing altogether.

“Breathe, baby,” he whispers, but you can’t. Every time you try it's like trying to inhale underwater. It’s too heavy and so suffocating all that comes out is a choked moan. 

Suguru’s fingers apply pressure to the sides of your throat, gently massaging. 

“Breathe,” he says again, broad chest rising then falling, silently encouraging you to match the pattern. His eyes go dark when you comply, sweet sighs fanning over his mouth, copying his. “Good girl.”

He rears back to take his shirt off and you’re graced with tanned skin and sculpted muscle that distracts you long enough to let him deeper. 

Your nails rake down his back once he’s on you again. Cuttingly sharp whereas his touches are soft as he smooths his hands over your skin, coaxing out all the tension that has you wound up. 

Each caress is torturous and deliberate. Shaping over your hips and squeezing your breasts until a mewl echoes. 

“Feels so good,” he breathes, then kisses you again.

It's devastatingly disarming, and he knows it, because when your body relaxes under him, he wastes no time in driving forward and burying himself to the hilt. Your back arches, and he catches the curve of it with his hand, pulling you against him.

“I know,  baby,” his jaw is clenched tight. Hips rutting so his pelvic bone rolls onto your clit. You wind your legs around him tighter and the massage table whines under your combined weight. “Fuck, stretching so tight around me.”

You know you're being loud when he starts moving. At first, you didn't trust him when he said the walls were thick but right now you don't seem to care.

“So full,” you mumble against his mouth, and he grunts, delivering a brutal thrust that jostles you both.

“Yeah? Where do you feel it, hm?” his palm reaches for your stomach, flattening over the small bulge his cock leaves every time he pumps into you. “Right here?”

All you manage are frantic nods, and he slides his hand down to grind the heel into your clit. Your body tries to buck, but he's so close you can't do more than shiver. 

You're wringing his cock dry. Swallowing every inch and squeezing until his balls draw up. They slap against your ass, messy and loud with your slick, only to get drowned out by your panicked gasp.

“I’m close,” you warn, and he nods in response, pace turning desperate as he chases his own high.

The once comforting blend of scents filtering through the air makes your head swirl.

“Cum with me,” he demands, and there's not a lot you can do to hold off any longer. Pleasure hooks into your spine, and Suguru holds you against his body. The tremors shaking you pass into him and back again.

His grip on your hip is bruising as he spills rope after rope of his cum as deep as he can go, shuddering with his release and letting out breathless moans and gasps that almost send you off the edge again.

Cum spills down your thighs when he pulls out, and he's pushing you back down when you try to get up.

“I’ve got you. Relax,” he says, and hell, he doesn't have to tell you twice.

Your body feels heavy against the bed when he walks away. Water trickles then he’s back again. You can’t lift your head to make sure but you feel the heat of him. And the heat of the cloth that's dragged between your legs as he cleans you with practised ease. When you flinch, still tender and sensitive he only coos and kisses your knee.

Suguru lifts you and readjusts your position on the massage bed, making sure you’re comfortable before draping the towel over your torso again.

“I don't have an appointment for another hour,” he informs you and your lashes flutter, eyes bleary and drawing low with sleep. “You should some rest. I’ll wake you up in a couple minutes.”

You manage a small nod while he shuffles through the room.

It takes a little longer for him to return, but when he does his uniform is back on. Unwrinkled and neat. Hair without as much as a strand out of place.

He touches you again, massaging your shoulders in slow circles that have you drifting closer to dreamland and continues the treatment as if nothing had happened, lazily working his hands over your limp body.

“Finally relaxed.” He hums his approval when you soften under his touch, tracing his fingers over your sternum.

Yeah, definitely coming back next month. You think.

Though next week was probably closer to the truth. 

art by @/aransmind

🏷️: @rambld, @liahcharms, @sugusplaything, @indom-tus, @ehcilhc, @magicalpeenpoo, @mieleism, @maxxthefan, @kingraspberry12-blog, @21-princess, @shannonigans1029, @pjselee, @trilxogyyy, @megumour, @tojisgdgirl, @aweslurp, @whatthehellybronjames, @bokenessa, @moonlight-jasmine7, @fruitypatootie, @voxxsstuff, @b-bitter, @ryomensukunasoneandonlywife

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nights like these made it clearer than ever, the ones where the waves of insomnia hit, and sleep refuses to find you. it's infuriating, lying there, almost helpless in your own body as your mind begs it to succumb to slumber. or maybe your body is barely awake and your mind is too alert, too full of thoughts? it's hard to tell.

you toss, you turn, you count sheep and flip your pillow a dozen times.

nothing helps.

you know what would. and you know he's just down the corridor, almost definitely still awake, though less reluctantly than you.

you reach for your phone, fumbling in the darkness to bring it closer to you. the screen flicks on, pupils aching momentarily at the brightness. you don't hesitate - you call suguru. he doesn't hesitate either. it only rings twice before he picks up, and you let out a soft sigh of relief.

"hey, angel, you alright?" he asks before you can speak, just a touch of concern in his voice, soft and warm and a little gravelly with sleep, like he hasn't spoken to anyone in a good few hours.

(he hasn't. he doesn't really want to talk to anyone if they're not you.)

"i'm fine. just… tired." you pause. "but i can't sleep." your voice comes out small, as sleepy and exhausted as you feel.

"want me to come? or stay on like this until you fall asleep?" suguru proposes, and you can hear him shift, as if he's ready to drop it all and run to you.

he is. he always is.

"can i…" you trail off, voice timid in the hollow darkness of the night. "can i come to yours?" you ask, but it's not much of a question when you know he'd never say no.

"'course, sweetheart. see you in a second." he says, blowing you a kiss before he cuts the call. you're not sure how you can tell - it's kind of ingrained in you, the soft rustle of his lips as he presses them against his own hand when it can't be yours. probably because he always finds ways to kiss you when you are there, you suppose.

you swing your legs over the side of your bed, phone still in one hand as you slide into your slippers. you grab your plushie, the black cat with amethyst eyes that reminds you so much of suguru, so much so that it's more than a little funny. you don't really need it when you're with him, but you'd rather take it and put it on suguru's desk or something than leave it.

thankfully suguru's room isn't too far - just down the corridor, past the double doors by the stairs. it always seems a little further in the looming darkness of one a.m., though. you tap against his door lightly, and he opens it barely before your knuckles have left the smooth surface.

he pulls you into his room and into his arms in one smooth motion, and you're engulfed in his warmth and scent and just him. it's just what you need, and you let out a soft hum into his chest.

you're curled up in suguru's bed before you know it, your back against the heat of his chest as you face the wall. a blank wall wouldn't be your favourite view, but suguru's is covered in photos and drawings and little keepsakes, of you and him and your friends and places you've been together and places you want to go together. every time you look at it a little bubble of warmth grows in your chest, threatening to burst. today is no different. especially when suguru slings his arms around your midriff, pulling you closer as if there's any space left between you, squeezing just enough that it's comfy and never so much that it's suffocating.

"better?" he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to the exposed nape of your neck. you hum affirmatively, nodding as you wriggle yourself into him more, if that's even possible.

"a little more sleepy now, i think. dunno. tired, though." you admit. he nods, kissing your neck again. you don't have to tell suguru much for him to understand. you never do. he's familiar with this, the nights where you can lie there for hours on end, willing the embrace of sleep to take over, but no matter how hard you try, your eyes stay alert and open.

"you wanna talk? or just stay?" suguru offers.

you shake your head, just enough so he can feel it, your hair lightly brushing his cheek. you yawn softly, finally, and suguru swears the sound almost gives him cuteness aggression. "just wanted you." you murmur, closing your eyes finally. your sleep deprived state has your raw thoughts and emotions spilling from you like gentle rain. suguru feels his heart swell at your words, and he almost prays you don't say anything more for fear that he'll simply melt into a puddle of his affection and love for you. or maybe an ocean.

"okay." he whispers, unadulterated adoration threatening to spill out around one simple word.

you're on the last step of your skincare when you hear the click of the front door to your apartment opening as he enters. it takes all his willpower not to collapse onto the sofa that's dangerously near him as he stands on the doormat - he knows if he does, chances are he won't be able to move till morning, and as tired as he is, if he's going to crash out, he'd rather be in your arms in your shared bedroom than alone on your sofa. he calls out to you softly to greet you, just loud enough to be heard, and can't help but smile when he hears you respond. he pads quietly over to the bathroom where he knows you are, leaving his jacket, which was now covered in dirt from a long day's work, on the back of a chair. before he enters, he just stands in the doorway for a moment, his gaze affectionate as he watches you finish off your routine. you look adorable - hair pushed back to keep it out of your face in a slightly... unconventional way, to say the least; mismatched fluffy socks on your feet. it's so very you, and there's nothing he loves more. he takes a few steps and he's behind you, wrapping you in his arms as he leans down slightly to press a few soft kisses to your neck and collarbone.

"missed you." he murmurs between kisses, voice low. it may seem a little excessive - after all, he was with you earlier in the day, but today has been rough, and it shows. although his face is partially obscured by stray strands of his hair from the angle you're at, in the mirror you can see how tired he is. his eyes are barely open, and his typically firm grip on your waist is lighter than usual. you move your hand to softly cup one side of his face as he moves away from your neck, pulling him in to gently kiss him.

"i missed you too, suguru." you whisper, sliding your free arm around his slender waist to rest on the small of his back. you pull back after a few moments, looking up to meet his eyes, beautiful as ever, sparkling violet. "i'm going to head to bed - you coming now or in a few?"

he rubs his eyes and pushes a piece of hair off his forehead. "as much as i want to collapse in bed with you and sleep for eternity, sweetheart, i don't think i can in good conscience without showering first." he's referring to the dirt he's probably tracked in, and even though he knows you really couldn't care less, he's not dragging the mess of the day into the sacred space he shares with you. "i'll be there in five?" he says, sleep audible in his voice. you nod, and press a kiss to his cheek before heading to your bedroom, where you settle into the king sized bed suguru had insisted you get. you had pointed out that such a big bed was probably unnecessary, given that he always clings to you when sleeping, but he had been adamant that the two of you wouldn't be getting anything less than the best, not when it came to something for you; for the both of you, in your shared home.

before long, he's joining you in the bedroom. he turns off the light as he enters, dressed only in a pair of black sleep shorts. he flops down on the bed, somehow graceful despite his exhaustion. he shifts himself to be more on top of you than the mattress, his head almost entirely under the thick duvet. his legs are probably dangling off the end of the bed, but he can't bring himself to care, not when he's in your arms.

the way he's curled up into you is endearing, and just what he needed. it's almost as if he's a giant, silky-haired lapcat, as opposed to a twenty-something year-old man, and you chuckle softly at the thought. he shifts a little again, resting his head on your chest and sliding one hand into yours as he hears you laugh.

"what's so funny?" he murmurs sleepily, not even opening his eyes as he speaks.

"you're like a... like a lapcat. it's really cute." you tell him, voice soft. he hums in what seems to be approval, and you can feel the vibrations in your chest.

"i don't hate that." he says, before falling silent for a few moments. it's comfortable, and you can feel him relax.

"can you redo my hair?" he asks quietly, breaking the silence. "bun's too uncomfortable to sleep in but 'm too tired to move now..."