463 words
SuguSato
NSFW (and angst! Take it or leave it.)
Summary:
Geto Suguru never spiralled enough to turn himself into an outcast from the Jujutsu World.
What his internalised conflict brought about however, was a drastic change in his character…
The suppressed hate and desperation from feeling trapped made him volatile and often found release in covert yet vicious outbursts, most notably against the one person he trusted the most but also blamed the most.
The one that acted as a chain and a root to this twisted, cursed world—
Hello, sweeties~ I come bringing yet another 🔞 fic. I mean idk, I was minding my own business watching K-pop vids and then it hit me: “He pulls off his hat and runs a hand through luscious black hair.”
Like… that’s it. That’s what this whole fic is about! That one line. Go figure, ok? And no, I don’t feel one bit sorry for making Geto like *gestures vaguely* this... I’m not on that ship. lmao
They have just arrived home from their evening missions and all they both crave right now is a hot bath and a light dinner before going to sleep.
But he is irritated for some inexplicable reason. He just can’t relax. He pulls off his hat and runs a hand through luscious black hair.
It never registers with him how much overwhelming his aura has become, filling the room with anxious energy.
The other is just following his every move, engrossed in his very presence. Captive of the sensations these hands have left on his skin that suddenly feels too hot to bear and yet, frozen in his place with unreasonable fear.
Whatever has put him on the offensive, is going to be resolved one way…
And that is what terrifies him.
They have done this enough times until now for him to know that whenever the raven-head was in this state, it would become unbearable if he didn’t outer his anger. The fact that most of his piled up frustrations came from various times and incidents was making things worse, sending him over the edge with one wrong touch — one wrong word — like throwing a lit match in a tank full of gasoline.
And next thing he knows, is the cold of the surface he’s being pushed against or the hardness that grinds his bones when he’s finally snapped.
He knows the roughness that he is. The hard yanks and angry thrusts. The heat of his possessive marking.
The sickness of overstimulation…
He fucks him raw on the spot where he stands the minute he loses control of himself. And there is never — never — an apology that follows. A reason to justify his desecration. Just anything, to make him feel like this all is worthwhile.
There is… nothing—
That’s not to say he’s never been treated with delicacy and tenderness. He has. He’s found himself lost in his arms more times than he’d like to admit; warmth blooming under the chaste kisses and traces of his digits ghosting along the lines of his body. Their heated breaths mingled into whispered sweet words. Playful licks and soft bites. Long-lasting embraces and contented smiles.
He’s been a happy man.
Yes.
Yes. For a while now.
But every added time they do it like this, has him wondering whether he’s being used as a punch sack or if it’s just his imagination.
It hurts. And it’s not just his body or his pride. It hits someplace different. Deeper. Somewhere that would make him feel disgusted and sick in his stomach.
It’s not a feeling of being fed up with it, rather, it’s the sensation of emptiness that has his guts turn and makes him retch.
‘If love can unravel… it is while waiting for your return.’
———•———
a.n.:
Thanks for reading this far!!!
This is ridiculous, actually… had this siting in my notes since last year; probably from September or October — definitely before mid-November — inspired by this K-pop live short I saw on YouTube ‘cause welp… *bonks herself on head* started it with a specific pair in mind when suddenly halfway through I was writing for another!? lmao
So yeah… I liked how it turned out but I couldn’t really appoint it to any of my ships because the dynamics ended up a bit distorted…? Or more like all over the place! Yeah… ahahaha 😅😂
I mean it’s literally this one single line that sparked this short, that is also the only thing that kept my hands from tagging with any of the ships I drew inspiration from… 😗🤨 And oh, boy! After reading it it was screaming yet another one, too!? Gah!
Ngl, I short-circuited my brain many times thinking about a black haired seme and an uke that could fit the bill but nothing came to mind… 😮💨🙄 (ironically, also why this survived my writing app fiasco. Well, I don’t want to dwell on that anymore sooo, I just guess it sat in my notes long enough!)
But, hey! After a year — literally this week — Geto and Gojo popped up in my head and while I first went ‘Nooo!’, they did sound so good for this! I mean Gojo is so going to be this quietly suffering mess not because of character but because this is Suguru? Pff! I can see it so clearly, now! And Geto of course would exploit Satoru’s secrecy for his sake and neither would face the issue until they both become unable to face each other, like… Don’t you think so, too? I’d like to hear any thoughts on this, I’m very curious. hoho
Again, if you read through all this long-ass rambling, thank you so so much and I hope you had a nice time reading this story! 😊
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Apparently, his hands had found it's way back to my hips, rubbing circles again. Not the best use of his hands, but... I needed to decide.
And... it had not been... horrible up to now.
I was unharmed. And feeling better than... in the beginning.
I like his kisses.
And he... focuses on me. Completely.
Even when he's chuckling or looking away, he always concentrates on me.
Only me.
Not the worst thing in the world.
... and the crooked mushroom didn't exactly look like it's going to harm me.
It just looked... stupid. But attentive.
In a wobbly way.
I shook my head and grabbed the tiny bottle, spilling some on my hand and - this time registering the inhale - put my hand gently around his... mushroom.
He sighed deeply, sinking into his pillows, and closed his eyes. His breathing was suddenly deliberate, deeper. And he... moved under me.
Huh!
And that only from touching it.
I moved me hand. Along the shaft, stopping at the head, and... then down again.
A pleased sigh was my answer.
And a light movement - a bucking, maybe - of his hips.
So, I... continued moving my hand. Up and down, up and down.
His hands tightened on my hips sometimes, and his breathing somehow… fell into rhythm with the strokes.
It was strange, how much effect it had, simply touching him there.
It was nit a… a bad feeling. Not that bad the skin was a little looser than normal skin, gave a little before there was actual movement.
But it was somewhat firm.
Firm enough, certainly, to queeze.
“Wa-ugh,” escaped his lips. And his hand closed around mine, “-please don’t do that… too much”
He conceded the point, smile once again tugging on his lips, when he pressed my fingers together slightly and breathed out, relieved.
“… you… you move like that, just…”
He moved his hand, wrapped around mine, dictating a rhythm.
Certainly was not unaffected, that man… I couldn’t see inside him, but he breathed. Noticeably.
“… could yo-mnh,” swallowing, he rearranged my hand a bit and put my thumb on the top and…
“… ew,” I stared.
It suddenly had a… mucus.alike substance… and I knew, I really did, but… EW.
And he took his hand away from mine to support his head and… laugh.
“Y-you’re not wrong,” he continued laughing.
Until I moved my hand again and he gasped.
Rubbing my thumb over the head seemed to… work. And he didn’t even do things when I… squeezed a little more.
… it basically felt a little like a lot of skin stuck together.
But without bone. And wobbly.
And he whined when I pushed it too far in any direction.
"Is that what you thought? Truly?," he chuckled, looking truly amused. Somehow on my expense.
"... it's... not that funny," my giant hand bapped at his arm.
"Ah, but it is. You expected guilt as a motivator? After I brought you into a lair of a dragon? Guilt?," he shook his head and ruffled my hair, still snickering
Well, at least he was... more... animated than usual. Even if... a little evil.
"... you know... now that you remind me, it really was a shitty move," when he raised his brows, I waved my hands lazily, "Not that I'm complaining, I learn a lot and that's what I set out to do, but still. Lady Michelle could have killed me...", because she could. Certainly growled at me.
"But she did not. Since I was tasked to bring you, it would have been... counterproductive, anyway," he shrugged a bit, "... but I suppose you want to know the actual reason?"
While he put my hair back into presentabe shape, I grumbled a little 'of course' towards him.
"Maybe you noticed that I do care about your - both of your - wellbeing...?," when he actually paused, I realised he wanted an answer.
"Uh, I suppose?", I gestured slightly. He went hunting for us and renovated the castle, bringing supplies, too... and he had taken care of the princess... so... yeah, I guessed.
"Hm, well, I do. And I take the task seriously. Up to now, you two believed o be entirely human, ´which makes me... less appropriate a conversational partner. Seeing that I do not stem from this world either"
I gave him a suspicious look: "Soooo~"
He laughed - actually laughed - and then put a long finger on his smiling lips, *winking* at me: "That would be telling. Keep up your magic lessons and you'll figure it out"
Now it was my turn to raise a brow: "... are.. are you trying to... motiate me to learn?!," like... to do the only thing I actually came here for?!
"Well, it's an extra-reward, I suppose," he chuckled some more.
Pretty bastard.
"... but yes, since you are now somewhat more aware... it... requires further attention. You are not used to this situation, after all. You should not be alone like this, when you actually regain energy you could use to panic... not if I can help it. And the portal would close if I were to leave. Opening portals to fire-dimensions is not my strong suit, but you are a very... strong conductor, really. With half of you originating there," he patted my head again, looking over to the fire place.
I followed the gaze.
So one of my parents... came from there.
... I... could... possibly take... a look?
Aromatic smell. Soft – very soft – 'floor'. Pyjamas.
… judging by the slight ringing in his ears, this was a lot better than he could have hoped for.
The room was dark, too. And a hand helped him sit up in silence, handed him a blister that felt familiar and a glass of water. Then there were steps going away from him again.
They came back with tea and lemon, if the smell was anything to go by.
The former had been the first thing he smelled when he woke up. Mh.
… actually, that way, his headache was almost bearable.
In half an hour – and one pill later - , the world would be a better place.
…
And it was, complete with a smiling silver haired friend, who waved. He wandered around in a towel.
Yeah. He was kind of glad there was a bit of headache left. That way, he had an excuse not to complain. Because he normally would. Definitely. No reason to irritate his head, though.
Just checking what he's doing here.
What he's doing is showing him a dimly illuminated phone that says:
'Been some time since I needed to treat your hangover. It's eight now. Your next appointment is @ 10. Think you'll make it?'
Henoch stared.
Appointment?
He had an appointment?
By wrapping himself in the – his own – blanket, he tried to remember. The day before had been a party-day. A few years back, he had seen reason and stopped to plan things the next day.
But here his half-naked care-taker was, declaring an appointment.
Well, actually, he rubbed his hair...
Which… most likely meant his shampoo AND conditioner was gone now.
Hrm.
Right.
The downside of using Raph's 'drink-free services'.
At least he smelled of something else now. For once.
After a minute, the phone was under his nose again. Apparently, he'd looked puzzled enough.
'You have agreed to visit a Yoga-course. For the whole semester, actually. You were quite vocal about it, I am told'
…
Oh?
…
Oh.
… he remembered a bit of... bragging. And a challenge. And a brilliant smile. And taunting. And... giving in. Right.
So this had been about... yoga-lessons?!
… oh.
Before he dripped on the phone, Henoch grabbed it and wrote back: 'So... where is it?!'
The chuckle was barely suppressed, but he did keep silent, opening a web page.
'Relaxing amongst the fishes. With a bit of work. Marine biologists invite!'
There actually was a note that he would be a special guest for this day.
…
Miss Jibril smiled from the web page at him.
…
He felt a little betrayed by himself.
Raph patted his shoulder lightly... and went to look for comfortable clothes.
At least that was appreciated.
My class, Audubon’s Nature, is on field notes and drawing on site and in the field, and then adapting it for research purposes later on. As part of our work load we are required to write 400 words for each assigned chapter from a book on Field Notes by Michael R. Canfield. It doesn’t have to be a summary, necessarily, but also how it relates to our own work.
I have the horrible feeling all of these chapters are going to be very repetitive and I reserve the right to get snarky if I become bored. Let’s see, this chapter spoke mostly on an example of record keeping, and the discussion of using shorthands or keywords, the act of transcribing the shorthand or keyword notes into longhand shortly after the act of observation, the pros and cons of using new or old technology on site, as well as the different ways and type of data collection for animals.
While I personally do not know shorthand, I figure the keywords makes up for it easily enough, as it’s something I’ve learned to do throughout high school and college while taking notes in a class with a particularly fast speaking professor who does not believe in visual aids or repeating themselves. I prefer to write in long hand, however, and this significantly slows me down. Also, because of all the details that are lost in writing in shorthand and with keywords, the act of transcribing your field notes soon after you are done observing makes complete sense. Not all of the details will be able to be recorded on site and if your memory is honed you might be able to remember enough to add in all the visuals and other miniscule details.
Canfield also discusses here briefly the pros and cons to succumbing to the use of new technology, but also warns about weighing those choices. If you wish to bring a camera or an audio recorder of some kind, you will also have to worry about what may happen to the devices on your way to the observation location or on your way back. He also explains if you are staying at an encampment, you may attract the attention of thieves. It is also just another physical thing you will be required to carry, along with a notebook and pen and whatever else you might need. That isn’t to say to not use technology at all. Many observers currently use GPS as an improvement to their old compasses.
As I learned in my Animal behavior class, there is also many different types of methods to data collecting to pick from when observing a species. Some may choose to make simple notes while others will tally the actions and their frequency throughout the observation time.
While Canfield is rather reserved about tagging animals and releasing them back into the wild, thinking that this does more harm than good. While for basic observation, I think this is true, but it might not old true for observing the migration or movement of large family groups. Especially if the observers will have to attempt to follow them through dense terrain and in hard to reach places.
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