imagine using your roomate, 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 as 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐎𝐘 after a rough day at work.
he's so good to you, the moment he notices that stressed frown on your face, he lets you use him however you want. he lets you ride him on the couch until your thighs burn and your pussy cannot stop convulsing around his cock. you don't even get undressed all the way, just pulling your panties to the side and hiking up your skirt enough to straddle him.
the blood rushing through your veins, down to your cunt, makes your body feel like it's burning. the sweat beads your forehead, hair sticking everywhere, clothes too; but you don't care, you just want to keep feeling that high from hitting your spot with his fat tip. nails dig into broad shoulders, bracing yourself to keep a steady rhythm. fuck, you feel so good.
suguru's hair is loose, a black curtain falling all over his shoulders and arms. he looks so pretty like this, under you, half-lidded eyes trying to keep themselves open to look at you, cheeks pink. "fuck, baby, you like that?" his strong hands hold onto your hips, helping you bounce on his cock. they dig into your flesh, probably gonna leave some bruises, but you don't mind — you like it when he's rough.
you whimper and give him a quick nod. "yeah, suguru, s'good." your hips roll into him and his mouth opens slack-jawed. his lips look so puffy. so pink. so kissable.
so you kiss him. your hungry mouth devours him completely, like his lips are some temporary cure for your problems. they feel like that, judging by the way your mind goes foggy and no longer remember why you were so upset to begin with. all that occupies your brain is the warmth of his tongue.
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"tell me why we're doing this, again?" satoru's annoyed voice rings in your ear as he complains for the zillionth time about having to do this. it's an unexpectedly hot september day and of course, today is the day the furniture needs to be rearranged.
"didn't you hear her," suguru grumbles, also annoyed but trying his hardest to be patient. "the fung shui is off."
their muscular hands grip into both sides of the couch, lifting it into the air like it's nothing. although, satoru seems to exaggerate the laborious nature of it all. he whines about his back aching, about how sweaty he is and so on.
you only roll your eyes, hands crossed over your chest as they get ready to set the couch back down: "you guys are always bragging about how strong you are—no, not there the energy flow isn't right."
both men huff, shuffling over to the left, then to the right, then back to the left again—all in the name of appeasing you. your brows furrow, standing from a distance watching the two—extremely hot, extremely jacked, extremely shirtless—men grunting. maybe you're not ready for the show to be over, but maybe most of all, you need everything to look just right.
"hmm, i don't know." you tap your chin, staring at the sight before you.
"babe, we've been circling the same spot over and over again," suguru finally interjects, moments away from loosing his sanity. he puts his end of the couch down. "the energy flow is fine. perfect, even."
satoru follows suit, "mhm, the best energy flow i've ever felt. the fungi stay is impeccable."
"agreed." suguru chimes in with a snort, not bothering to correct satoru.
they plop down on the couch, legs spreading, leaning back, exhausted. there's a slot between them that's calling your name, and something about their expressions is oh-so-delicious.
"fiiine," you groan, giving in, filling the gap between them. "i guess you're right." little do they know they'll be stuck rearranging the living room for the next 5-6 business days.
Living with him felt less like sharing a home and more like coexisting in the same space. Your routines ran parallel but never touched, you woke at different times, ate quietly, spoke only when courtesy demanded it. When your eyes met, his expression was calm, unreadable, as if he were always holding something back.
He moved through the house like a guest who refused to take up space, speaking only when necessary, his voice low and measured. You wondered if this was all your life together would ever be. Doors closed gently, conversations briefly. At night, the space between you felt deliberate, an unspoken agreement neither of you acknowledged.
Until one night you caught a cold. So you stayed curled on the futon, trying to keep quiet, trying not to need anything. Footsteps paused outside the room. He didn’t enter right away. When he finally did, he stood near the doorway, as if crossing the threshold meant something more than it should have.
“You didn’t eat,” he said. His voice was low, “I’m fine,” you replied, though your stomach betrayed you making a quiet sound. After a moment, he spoke, “I’ll make something. Just… wait.” He said. When he returned, he didn’t leave the bowl and go. He sat nearby, not close, but present. Watching. Making sure you ate. The silence between you felt different less empty, more comfortable. “You don’t have to stay,” you said. “I know,” he answered.
The next days the distance softened. He checked in more often. Asked small questions. Just watched you. When you sat together, the space between you no longer felt guarded, just cautious like something fragile neither of you wanted to break.
One night, as you spoke about your day, you laughed without thinking. Geto looked at you then, truely looked, his expression gentler than you’d ever seen it. “I know this is an obligation for you” you spoke, ears red with your face turned away. “But I want this to work”. When you finally looked back at him, he spoke low almost at a whisper “I’m here, because I want this too”.
You woke from a restless night to find him already awake, sitting at the edge of the futon. He didn’t speak at first, as if afraid the moment might disappear. His presence was close now, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him without looking. “You don’t sleep well,” he said quietly. “Neither do you,” you replied. Sitting up to match his gaze.
He gave a small tired smile. After a long pause, he reached out not to take your hand, but to rest his fingers beside it, leaving the choice with you. When you closed the gap yourself, his breath caught, just barely. You squeezed his hand. He didn’t pull away. Instead, his thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow and careful, like he was memorising the feeling. Your fingers intertwined and curled till there was no distance between you. Your forehead rested gently on his shoulder.
For the first time, the closeness didn’t feel like something temporary or uncertain. It felt chosen.
reposted from my ao3 account
likes, reblogs, and comments are much appreciated!!
✮ tags. . noncon/dubcon vampire getō x human fem reader, blood, objectification, 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune. | WC: 2.3K
✮ about. . in your desire to protect your family, you end up making a deal with the devil.
He is sitting in the dining room when you enter the room. Your body doesn't react with a shrug of muscles as it was usual to do every time you encountered him wandering around as if he owned your apartment, but your heartbeat detonates as if someone has pushed you from behind and you plummet into the void.
Shadows take over every corner of your place as if this were their and Suguru's home and not yours. You breathe, exhaling the fright that has frozen your veins and move towards the switch blindly, sliding your fingers along the wall until you manage to make light.
Suguru squints his eyes being struck by the ace of light. He is sitting in one of the chairs with his elbows on the small wooden table, he has a half bun tying part of his hair up, the rest of the black hair falls down his back perfectly. The turtleneck sweater is new, it makes him look more elegant and you almost laugh at how formal he looks.
"I wasn't expecting you today," you say approaching, dropping the keys of the apartment on the table surface. You want to tell him he's quite the dramatist for setting this scene for you, the waiting in the dark in your apartment god knows what for so long, the absence of light, the black clothes… you wonder how long he's lasted waiting there for you, if he's gone through your kitchen, if he's rummaged through your clothes.
His clear eyes scan your face as if reading what you're thinking, then he notices the paper bags you drop next to your keys before answering. "I thought I'd stop by for a snack" He replies with a mocking tone.
"What's this?" you reach out to grab the glass bottle in front of him. Inside a red, almost black liquid swirls amusedly as you move it back and forth in search of something to give you a clue as to what it might be and you pray it's not what you're thinking.
"Beet juice." The confession makes you scrunch up your face in distaste. Okay, it wasn't what you were thinking but this doesn't make it any less gross. "It's good for the red blood cells."
You squint to examine it better. Was he giving you a gift? Was that what he meant? The vampire who had threatened to kill your family if you didn't feed him your blood?
"I'm not going to drink it." You set the bottle down on the table with a thud.
"You will. I need you to be healthy." There it is, the reason. You should have known better.
Suguru pulls his hands away from his face that drop his jaw, invisible hands squeeze your chest at the sight of him again, it was a strange feeling having him erase your memory after feeding on you to make you forget details about him that you don't need to know, just in case you decide to expose him to the church. So seeing him always makes you feel uneasy, he is handsome, his small eyes are intimidating and the whole aura around him makes you feel tiny.
"Shall we get this over with?" you raise an eyebrow looking to put an end to an encounter that shouldn't be any longer than necessary. You move the sleeve of your sweater up revealing your right wrist which begins to heal, at the juncture are two dots on your skin, around them the flesh takes on a yellowish color.
Suguru gets up from his seat and without taking his eyes off you sits on the chair next to you. His fingers take your hand gently, without wasting time he brings it to his mouth and his lips brush against your skin causing you to tingle, he breathes in your scent, breathes in the essence of your skin with his eyes closed.
"Stand up," he suddenly orders.
You move against the wall, trembling with fear and anticipation. Suguru is in front of you taking up all the space that allows you to see the rest of the room, your gaze riveted on the silver cross hanging from his neck and you snort at the irony.
With his finger he lifts your chin and makes you look at him, you want to run away, but you force yourself to be brave by chewing on the bottom of your cheek.
"You don’t have to compelled me." Suguru raises an eyebrow, questioningly. "I'm not going to scream."
Surprise marks the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth in a brief smile. "You want to feel the pain?"
You shake your head before pulling your face away from his finger yanking back. "I just want to know what it feels like." You feel guilty. A bitter cocktail rises in your stomach, you think it's unfair to have to be protecting your family without knowing exactly how you do it, what happens before, during or after. You feel guilty for not feeling pain.
"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he speaks softly. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut ignoring the hotness that suddenly chokes you.
Instead of answering you reach out your hand, you hear him chuckle softly and when you sense him lowering your hand back to its place you turn hurriedly to look for him, wondering why. The hope that he is going to let you go today crosses in front of you.
"I want from the vein in your neck."
You swallow. Suguru can't disguise staring at your throat and how it rises and falls. Wordlessly you push down on the fabric of the sweater collar and let him see the vein pulsing rapidly thanks to your racing heart.
Suguru moves closer to you, his teeth grazing you as if testing how fast he can break the skin. Then, he deposits a kiss that makes you clench your lips to keep from moaning, his tongue glides in wet circles that that warm the area and your body trembles.
"Hold still."
Is all you hear before suguru opens his mouth in an inhuman way and sinks his long fangs into your neck, the pain making you moan involuntarily. His fangs are sharp needles that sink into the flesh and pierce until they leave two holes just enough for blood to spill out of the vein. The piercing pain stops, instead you feel his soft lips sucking like he's giving a hickey.
"It hurts…" you whimper.
The sounds of your blood gurgling in his mouth deafens you, you drop your eyelids as he pushes your head further to the side in an awkward position so he has the space to go deeper and chase the spilling crimson stream.
A hand-shaped snake crawls up your navel, searches for the button of your pants and in seconds undoes it to find your panties. Suguru stops feeding to speak in your ear.
"I'm going to make you feel better." His voice is almost unrecognizable, less friendly, deeper and more terrifying. "I'm going to keep feeding on you and you're going to cum on my long fingers."
You don't even respond. You can't complain because of the way your hands lose feeling and your knees buckle. Suguru goes back to sucking as the pad of his cold fingers push your pussy lips wide open and squeeze your clit back and forth almost in a lazy way. You squint harder to imagine that you're not there, that you're somewhere else and this isn't happening. Because what kind of person would you be if you felt pleasure because this creature, who every week comes to feed on you, is making you feel good?
He slips a finger easily inside you masking the pain in your neck with pleasure. Suguru pushes it in as if searching for something, then adds another finger and a louder moan tears your throat. Suguru pauses to lay his forehead on your throat, giving one last lick to the open wound that slowly stops bleeding and just lies there enjoying his long fingers parting your wet pussy.
"You taste so good when you're aroused," he growls, thrusting slowly. "I can hardly stop myself."
His fingers increase the intensity of his strokes, massaging your pussy in an erotic back-and-forth, scissoring his fingers and thumb touching your clit. It doesn't take your body long to reach orgasm, shattering you to pieces and making the lack of blood make you feel dizzy. Helpless and weak, you cling to his sweater, intoxicated in the peculiar perfume that envelops him until you begin to see black and everything becomes one big swirl that makes you fall into a deep sleep.
. . . When you wake up you are in your bed, lying on your back with one of your plush blankets covering your legs. You try to sit up but your body aches, especially your neck. You bring your fingers to where the wound should be but find the soft fabric of one of your scarves wrapped around your neck.
"Was I too rough?" This time, your body does react by curling up on the mattress. You pull your legs up to the level of your chest and search for the voice that burst into your room.
You find him as a long figure standing at the edge of the bed looking down at you from above. Did he care? Clearly not, because his mischievous-looking smile tells you otherwise.
You begin to tremble as he approaches, your gaze following him as you watch him come closer to you. The bed sinks with his weight, he reaches for one of your arms hugging your knees and pulls it towards him, Suguru brings the back of your hand to his mouth and leaves a kiss there, and the scene is so intimate that it feels awkward to you.
His body sensation is not icy cold as it normally is, his warm hands mimic the warmth of an ordinary man and you have a theory that it is due to the temperature change your fresh blood briefly carries in him, this only lasts a couple of minutes after all.
You wonder what he's doing, what he's playing at. Your heart leaps out of your chest the moment Suguru starts a path of kisses from your palm to your wrist, your blood turns icy cold after he stops on your wrist, you stutter his name, you think he's going to bite you again but what he does instead takes you by surprise.
Suguru gives you a long lick, the taste of your body cream diluted in the day's sweat soaks his tongue, then he closes his lips around the area and makes a hickey. Red, small, and when he pulls away to contemplate his creation it almost looks like the shape of a map. He crawls from your skin reluctantly and looks at you between heavy lashes, there's lust in his gaze mixed with hunger and desire and you hate yourself for the way your body reacts, your nipples harden and your pussy gets wet for him again.
"What-"
"No one touches my property." Your eyes widen. "This should carry a message to whoever you're fucking, unless of course, you wish me to show up in person to your job."
You reeked of man perfume and it made him want to throw up. He didn't want to smell someone else's scent on you when he was feeding.
"That's not of your business," you spit with a boiling face and a flutter in your stomach, tugging at your hand to escape the trap it had fallen into but it's only in vain because his strength is triple yours and you don't move an inch. "Our deal is just my blood."
"Perhaps," suguru murmurs, flashing you in a brief smile just the tips of the fangs that a moment ago were digging into you. "But it will be your fault when I bring their head as an offering along with another bottle of beet juice."
You struggle to hold back tears of helplessness. He grins again and his teeth cut through the darkness, you clear your throat to fight back and say it's not fair however Suguru gets up before you can.
Gracefully, he gives a brief tour of the room. You are embarrassed that he finds it in this state, books on your bed, shoes out of place and clothes on the floor. You were in a rush this morning, you were going to be late and you prioritized time over tidying your safe space as you rummaged through your uniform shirt.
He removes the hair tie that grips his mane and lets it fall all the way down his back like a dark waterfall as he looks down at the jeans on the floor, on top of it is a pair of light pink panties that he observes undisguised. As if every move is planned he ties all his hair back into a high ponytail, the movements causes the black sweater to ride up his abdomen revealing a wink of toasted skin, with a line of hair revealing itself at the edges of his pants and rising blurred to his belly button.
"How are you feeling?" He asks suddenly, dropping his arms to either side.
"Do you even care?" you reply curtly, looking down at his feet. You glance up at him in time to see him smirk, clearly amused by your attitude.
Suguru moves towards you again and you wonder when you will stop feeling not enough in his presence. He sits at your feet, puts his hand to his mouth and bites down hard. Your body squirms at the action, raw fear showing on your wrinkled nose and furrowed brow.
"Drink," he says reaching out, droplets of blood slipping onto your favorite blanket.
"No."
"It's not a request, sweetheart." You don't understand what he intends by this but you don't seek to make him angry either, so you lean down and wrap your lips around his skin to finally suck the blood that spurts out of him.
The taste of iron is so strong it's unbearable. Your mouth fills with saliva and your stomach knots warning you with rejecting what you are drinking, you want to move away but his hand is behind the back of your neck pulling you closer to him and preventing your escape.
"Keep sucking. Your wound will heal faster that way."
You blink faster pushing away the tears that peek out, you close your eyes tightly becoming oblivious to what you are doing, his fingers pampering your hair as if you were a pet. Stroking you gently.
Note: Could you tell that I watched Chasing Liberty recently and it changed the trajectory of my life
Bodyguard!Geto silently panics when you get wasted and rests your head on his shoulder, letting out a little moan of fatigue as the alcohol still buzzes in your bloodstream. The sound aroused him — an observation he would never admit and a secret he’ll take to his grave. You could barely walk in a straight line in your heels, almost tripping and falling face flat on the floor so Geto manhandles you over his shoulder, ignoring the fact that your ass is literally inches from his face and mustering all his self-control not to move his hand up an inch while holding you by the plump flesh of your thighs. (The image is ingrained in his brain as he fists his dick in the shower that night after he made sure you were sound asleep in bed, with painkillers and a glass of water right by your bedside table that he made sure to prepare).
Bodyguard!Geto kisses you in disguise to avoid the paparazzi. You tried to make a move on him when you got back home, thinking that this game of play-pretend was finally over and glad that he finally sucked up to his feelings; until he had to tell you that the kiss was all just an act. His heart aches a little when you look up at him with those doe eyes, lips quivering, angry at yourself that you were a fool with your stupid little crush on him. He absolutely hates when he has to lie to you that he didn't feel anything — when all he wanted was to feel your body pressed against his. He leaves you to your room so that he can refrain from comforting you, because he gets so unhinged just by being in proximity to you, and those tearful eyes of yours didn't help at all.
Bodyguard!Geto gets frustrated when you stop calling him Suguru. It was partially just you throwing a tantrum on the previous instances where he lied about his obvious feelings and pushed you away. But how could you explain that it was the only way to distance yourself from him by reminding yourself that it was impossible for you two to exist together? He wouldn't have to know all the flings you had just served to fuck him out of your system. He wouldn't have to know that you looked for him in everyone you meet.
Bodyguard!Geto helps you zip up the back of your skimpy little dress as you get ready for a girls' night out. You don’t notice how his breath hitches at the canvas of your bare back as you flip your hair to the side. He silently prays that you don’t feel his shaky fingers as he zips your dress up, pushing any mental images of you half naked in that dress away. You purposely chose this tight dress that hiked a bit too up on your thighs, barely covering your ass, knowing that the outfit absolutely riles him up and there's nothing that he could do about it. His knuckle goes white as he grips hard on his drink when some random college boys hit on you at the bar. It took all his self control to remind himself that he was on duty and he had no right to dictate who was worthy of you when he couldn't even admit his own feelings for you.
Bodyguard!Geto convinces himself that the way the guy touched your waist didn't bother him, until you started getting a little too friendly on the dancefloor, swaying a little too seductively before the bottom of your dress rides up a bit too high for Geto's liking. He lets himself count to ten before he strides into the crowd and harshly pulls you away from the fucker, leaning into your ears over the loud music, "We're going home. Right now." Knowing that your little plan was on its way to success. you gladly comply.
Bodyguard!Geto grips the wheels of his car as he drives past the speed limit to get you back home, neither of you acknowledging the bulge that's straining in his pants. You didn't dare to tease him about the act he pulled just now at the bar or even speak when you sensed his anger oozing out during the ride. You barely closed the car door before his strong hand gripped your wrist and dragged you back to your room. You were about to complain about how he's going to bruise your wrist before he slams the door and locks it. You stare at him in surprise, moonlight streaming through your window and illuminating his stoic face.
"What was all of that abou—"
He grabs your face and kisses you fervently, all those pent-up frustration and hunger crawling out his ribs. When you come back to your senses and return the kiss in the same eager affection, his hands explore your body, palms gripping your ass tightly before moving up and wrapping them around your waist to pull you closer. Your senses heighten as you feel his hard-on press against your lower stomach, a silent warning of what's yet to happen. His hand travels back up to your neck and tightens his finger around it as his tongue pries open your mouth to explore what he's long wished to taste; your moans sounding even more divine than he dreamed of.
His other hand touches you below, satisfied with the wetness that pooled between your legs. He tugs his tie off, shirt crumpled from your grasp, and pushes you on the bed. His gaze glints under the soft glow of the night as he crawls to meet you in the middle, and suddenly you've never felt more like a prey. He pries your leg open with his hands and pulls you towards him, grinding his dick against your cunt, the sensation even more amplified as your dress rode up to reveal your soaked underwear. He wishes to tug your underwear aside and shove his dick right into you, fucking you like the slut you are, but he decides against it and gives you a gentle peck instead, muttering,
"I've starved myself way too long to do this the quick way."
After all, he's got the whole night to explore your body.
So he kisses his way down your throat, and slips his fingers in you, hooking the digits inside so it hits right at that spongy spot within you, dragging mewls and moans that echoed like music in his ears.
The next morning, you don't talk about how he pressed your head against the bed as he pounded you from behind, or how you squirted all over the sheets when he rubbed your clit while you clenched on his dick, nor how he marveled at his cum dripping down your hole the night before.
Instead, he greets you with a tender kiss on your forehead, fingers lingering at the strands that fell over your face as you bask in the warmth of his body, wrapped in your sheets.
Bodyguard!Geto, who didn’t plan to fall for you, but he did. So fuck whoever says you and him can't be together, right? After all, he CAN fight.
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Could you please do a part 2 of when the jjk men make you scared??
Like how they apologise and all
HE MAKES UP WITH YOU - pt 1
⤷ includes: gojo, geto; nanami, sukuna
a/n: I actually finished this also f!reader with sukuna but the rest are gn!reader
GOJO SATORU:
you let out a shaky breath as you snuggle deeper into shoko’s embrace. she comforts you, “it will be okay, I promise.”
“that asshole better come and apologize or I am so going to make him pay,” she grumbles while rubbing soothing circles on your back.
the bell rings and your body tenses up, “shoko, tell him to go away.”
“y/n, you guys need to talk it out,” she sighs, “but if you really don’t want to talk to him now then tell me.”
you sit up and shake your head. you rub your eyes and take a deep breath, “you can let him in if you want.”
she nods and heads to open the door. she is met with gojo, who must’ve been crying for a while because of the way his eyes are puffy.
“you better solve this, gojo,” she says, lightly elbowing him, and he just nods.
he walks in and sees you, “…y/n?”
you don’t turn to look at him, instead holding your hands tightly and looking at the ground. he cautiously makes his way to you and kneels down.
he slowly places his hand on top of your own and lets out a small sigh of relief when you don’t pull away. he starts rubbing your hand with his thumb, “I am sorry about what I did.”
you hum and he continues, “I shouldn’t have reacted that way and shouldn’t have dismissed everything you’ve done.”
“your work is just as important to you as mine is and I shouldn’t belittle you nor what you do,” he shakily says and rests his forehead on your knee.
you pull your hand away gently and gojo looks at you, eyes wide and full of worry. he seems a few moments away from crying once again, but he closes his eyes, the moment your hand makes contact with his hair.
you scratch his scalp and play with his hair, “satoru.”
“yeah?”
“please, try your best not to lash out on me like that,” your other hand rubs his cheek, “I am your equal not an outlet for you.”
he nods, and you hear a sniffle.
“I understand what you’re doing is really time consuming, but can we maybe have a day for ourselves every couple of weeks or so?” you ask softly, voice filled with hope.
he nods once again and snuggles into your stomach as he wraps his arms around you.
“y/n.”
you hum and he presses a kiss to your stomach, “I love you so much.”
“me too,” you press a kiss as well to his head.
“can you guys take this to your house?” shoko complains, lighting up a cigarette, “my house is not a studio for romance movies.”
NANAMI KENTO:
you’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve been crying alone. you didn’t move from the living room, just to be close to the main door so you can hear and see your husband enter safely.
but is he even coming back? you hoped he would. the way you shielded yourself from him was merely a reflex; you never once thought nanami would hit you and you know that he never will.
but would he know that? he can’t do anything except believe his eyes. all you can do is wait for him to come back and explain to him what happened.
your head snaps at the sounds of key’s jiggling. the door soon opens to reveal your husband in all his glory; once his gaze lands on you, his eyes widen in shock, “y/n? what are you doing on the ground?—“
you scramble out of your place and throw yourself on him and wrap your arms around him tightly, “I am sorry! I am so sorry!”
his arms instantly wrap themselves around you as you sob violently into his shirt, “I didn’t mean to, I swear! I-I know you would never hit me! please don’t be mad at me!”
he pets your hair, “sweetheart, I was never mad,” he places his hands under your thighs and picks you up while you naturally wrap your arms around his neck tighter.
“t-then? why did you leave?” you sniffle.
he sighs and presses a chaste kiss to your neck, “I was disappointed in myself that I made you react like that and I wanted to give both of us time to calm down.”
“I am sorry for the distress I caused you,” he murmurs pressing another kiss to your shoulder.
you stay in his embrace for a while before you speak up, “…you can let me down if you want.”
he shakes his head, “I want to hold you for a bit.”
you laugh lightly, “we can do that on the bed, you know,” a smile graces your lips, “like cuddle and stuff.”
you feel him smile into your shoulder before nodding. he walks towards your bedroom and gently places you on the bed; he lays beside you and pulls you to his chest.
he strokes your cheek, “your beauty is out of this world.”
“aw, you only love me for my body?” you pout and he rolls his eyes.
“I love you for everything that makes you you.”
“that’s a bit cheesy, is it not?” you giggle and he smiles.
he sighs in content, “I guess it is.”
GETO SUGURU:
you’re still in his arms, violently shaking and the tears never stop rolling down your face. you feel a wet batch on your shoulder and realize that your husband is crying as well.
“love, y-you know I would never hurt you, right?” he lifts your face to face his own, “r-right?”
he bites back a sob before he rests his forehead on your shoulder. he intertwines your hands together, before pleading softly “p-please don’t leave me.”
you did not move an inch since he held your face, it’s like talking to a living corpse.
“y-y/n, please answer me.”
“sugu-ru,” your voice is hoarse and he pulls back at the sound of your voice.
“ye-yes?”
“I am scared,” you admit, “really scared.”
he is hurt, you can tell, but you’re so terrified. this is the man you vowed to spend the rest of your life with, and you can’t just live with someone you consider a monster.
his hand reaches for your cheek but you pull back slightly and his hand instantly goes back to his side. he is looking at the ground, his tears never stopped either, “i would never hurt you.”
“it’s not o-only about me,” you breathe in, “do you know how scarring it is to see your gentle husband torturing someone that way? can you imagine how I feel?”
he shakes his head, “if you really want to divorce me, then so be it,” he rubs his eyes, “I don’t want you to be unhappy and always on edge by my side.”
he takes a deep breath before standing up and giving you his back, “you can decide to do whatever you want; I will be waiting for your decision.”
“just know,” he looks back at you with a sad smile, “my arms are always open for you.”
geto starts walking towards his house once again with a heavy heart. oh how he hopes you will come back to him and smile like you used to. but is that even possible?
his eyes widen at the arms that gently wrap themselves around him. he feels you squeeze him lightly before you speak up softly, “I am willing to t-try.”
he hears you sniffle and a small smile appears on his face before his tears start falling down his face once again, “can I turn and hug you?”
you nod and quickly he turns and engulfs you, burying his face in your shoulder, “thank you, thank you for giving me another chance!”
you nod lightly and snuggle into his embrace.
first and foremost, this was your husband and there was no denying that you loved him. perhaps there was a way for the both of you to continue loving each other like you used to.
RYOMEN SUKUNA:
your knees weaken as you fall to the ground and brace yourself for the pain but it never comes. instead, you are completely fine.
“open your eyes,” you hear the king grumble.
you quickly do as told, you don’t even notice the tears on your face until he wipes them, “stop crying; don’t you remember what I said?”
you are shaking lightly so he takes your arms and pulls you lightly to your feet, steadying you.
he sighs, “you dumb girl, I said you were my favorite one; I wouldn’t just kill you like that.”
“t-thank you for your mercy, my lord!” you bow sharply and he simply straightens your back.
“calm down,” he holds your hand and pulls you back towards the palace.
for a while, the both of you walk in silence, “all of that for a couple of flowers?”
you nod shyly, “I like flowers a lot; they are my favorite thing in the world,” a fond smile is on your face at the end.
sukuna gives you a side-glance, “I am not your favorite?”
“you are my favorite person, my lord! I can never consider you a thing!” you splutter.
he keeps looking at you in silence before nodding and smirking, “good answer.”
soon, you are in his royal chamber. you bow down, “I must excuse myself now, my lord.”
he raises his eyebrow, “and that’s why?”
“I c-can’t possibly enter your room!”
he rolls his eyes, “I want you to spend the night with me.”
“but shouldn’t I get cleaned up first and—“
he pulls you inside, swiftly closing the door, “we are not going to do anything; you’re only going to sleep by my side tonight.”
you are speechless as you watch him get into bed.
“are you coming or not?”
you clumsily make your way to his bed and sit down beside him. he grumbles, “lay down.”
you do as told and now you’re laying face to face with the king of curses.
he wraps an arm around you and pulls you to his chest, “sleep.”
you nod, but sleep is far from coming to you.
instead, you lightly trace hearts on his chest, and silently hope that he doesn’t feel anything.
meanwhile, his cheeks are a light rosy red as he realizes what you’re tracing.
Hi, could you please write a Mafia Boss! Suguru Geto where Geto falls in love with the reader because he spends time with her as she nurses him back to heath after he was caught in an assassination attempt.
DOCTOR!READER X MAFIA BOSS!GETO
✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: your boss stumbles in, battered and bruised in the middle of the night. (mafia!au)
contents: fem!reader. mentions of blood. medicine-related things written by someone with no medical experience. semi-suggestive ending if you squint.
working as one of the few doctors in a mafia was stressful. but being the only one on the night shift after a major assassination attempt? hell.
you were all set for an uneventful night in the mafia's infirmary when suguru geto, the boss himself, stumbled in, hand pressed to a fresh wound on his waist.
it wasn't uncommon for him to be seen around at nighttime. in fact, sometimes you would see him strolling around headquarters more often on your night shift than on your normal shift. what wasn't common was to see him like this—all battered and bloody.
one second you were ready to spend all night scrolling on your phone, the next your infamous boss comes in with blood dripping all over your freshly cleaned floor.
after a quick double-take, you rush over and guide him to one of the hospital beds. "fuck, what happened?"
geto doesn't reply right away, which is worrying, but you don't press the issue. it can wait until he's in a more stable condition.
the next hour goes by in a blur—you clean and dress the wound and get some pain medication in him. having been actively in medicine for a couple years, the metallic scent of blood is nothing new, and yet the sight and smell still make your stomach turn.
you'd think that a doctor who willingly chooses to work in a mafia would have no problem with seeing blood all over the place, and yet, here you were. but it wasn't your place to be picky—a patient was a patient, and like it or not, there would be blood.
after a stressful hour of observations and medications, all sensors are finally showing that he's stable, which is a relief.
geto seems to see this as well, as he offers you a dry smile and a "not bad."
"it's just my job," you reply offhandedly as you sit across from him. you're still running on the adrenaline rush you get whenever someone comes in hurt, and it's clear that your hope for an uneventful night is long gone. "so, how'd you get hurt?"
geto smiles ruefully and observes his wound. "heh, you wouldn't believe it. someone tried to assassinate me."
"really."
he laughs and winces slightly, resulting in you immediately advising him to move his chest muscles as little as possible.
his chest muscles...
now that the initial high has faded, you fully realize that you're alone with suguru geto. your boss. and he's shirtless. half his chest is swathed in bandages, but his abs are as prominent as ever.
you realize you've been looking one second too long when he smirks and clicks his tongue. "my my, a doctor checking out her brutally attacked patient. can't resist, can you?"
is he flirting with me?
caught off guard, you stumble over your words and barely manage to say "no, what? your wound- just making sure it's doing alright—" not slick.
geto grins and shakes his head. "do you do this with every guy who comes in here?"
"what's it to you if i do?" you're not sure where your sudden boldness comes from, but somehow the fact that geto's your boss seems to have suddenly slipped your mind.
however, he certainly knows his place—especially when he raises an eyebrow and reminds you of it. "i'm your boss, sweetheart. can't have one of my employees flirting with every man she meets."
fuck, did he really just call me sweetheart?
doing your best not to let your thoughts show on your face, you turn away and grab a roll of bandages to redress his wound. "i should reapply the bandages. yours are already bleeding through."
it's true—it hasn't been long, but splotches of scarlet red are starting to show through the gauzy white bandages.
"you sure you're not just tryin' to get your hands on me?" geto asks coyly with a slight tilt of his head. fuck, what's in the air tonight?
you scoff and start peeling off the blood-soaked bandages on his chest. "you wish."
"you have no idea."
what the hell? seriously, why's the boss of the regional mafia flirting with me? is he drunk or something? a quick glance at one of the many machines surrounding your desk shows that there isn't any alcohol besides the medication in his bloodstream.
you decide not to dignify his comment with a response, and instead throw the reddened bandages in the trash. as you reach for the fresh roll of bandages, geto's voice stops you halfway.
"so, what're you doing for the rest of the night?" he asks, dark eyes fixed on yours.
"uh, i'm on the night shift. and you aren't going anywhere, by the way," you reply, starting to apply the fresh bandages on his still-raw wound. "unless you want to bleed out or get attacked again."
geto laughs at that, earning another reminder from you that he should try not to do anything to strain his chest muscles. "okay, okay, doc. whatever you say."
"don't call me doc."
"mhm."
you sigh and lean back in your chair, already tired despite your shift not even being close to over. there's warm, sticky blood all over your hands and floor—you should probably take care of that. as you step away to wash your hands, geto speaks again.
"tell me, doc, why're you with the mafia? you don't seem too fond of blood, and there's a lot around these parts."
you turn on the water and start scrubbing his blood off your hands, the steady coolness helping you relax. "what makes you say that?"
"you squirm every time blood gets on you."
so, he really is observant. you had heard rumors of the boss's qualities, and so far, most of them had been true. observant? check. smug? check. condescending? maybe a little.
as you turn off the water and dry your hands, you look back at geto. "it's just... icky." did i really just use the word 'icky' in front of my boss?
geto laughs again, waving you off when you automatically start to remind him not to move for the third time now. "don't worry sweetheart, i've been hurt before."
once again refusing to acknowledge the s-word, you drag your chair back to your desk and plop down, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling. "you should get some rest."
"i'd rather stay up with you."
it takes you a couple minutes to coax him to try and sleep, and after you rattle off all the healing benefits sleep would give to him, geto knows he's defeated.
he finally sighs and makes a face. "can i get some sleep drugs or something?"
"d'you mean sedatives? sure, are you in any pain?"
geto rolls his eyes good-naturedly when you correct his casual language and shakes his head. "s'mostly numb."
you nod and start to fill a syringe with a clear blue liquid. after a moment of silence, you ask "so, what happened to them?"
"to who?"
you turn and meet his gaze. something aboht his eyes seems more friendly than when he first stumbled in, but it could just be because now he wasn't bleeding waterfalls anymore.
"the assassin? assassins?"
geto blinks and grins, shaking his head. "oh, they're long gone. fuckers thought it'd be easy to get rid of me, heh..."
after a moment, he looks you up and down and whistles. "too bad i have a pretty lil' doctor to save me, yeah?"
oh yeah, he's definitely been flirting this whole time.
you close the syringe and turn back to geto, a dry smile on your lips. "can't be flirting with one of my patients, can i, sir?" it's the first time tonight you've appropriately addressed him, and something about it makes him smile.
"oh, of course not. but how 'bout with your boss?"
you roll your eyes good-naturedly. "even worse."
"what if i gave you a raise?"
"tempting."
he laughs at that and holds out his arm. "shoot me, doc."
three words, and you're back to the attentive, precise doctor you're supposed to be—not the casual flirt from just a moment ago. you're no longer interested in entertaining his antics, but concentrated on doing your job right. after all, that's why he pays you, isn't it?
geto smiles to himself, drifting off to thoughts of the other things he could make you do for money. and maybe one day, for him.
but until then, he'd drop by the infirmary whenever he had a chance. it wasn't anything crazy. you were interesting, and he was interested. if he had to fake injuries to see you, so be it—tonight had a time limit, but suguru geto wanted more.
context- geto got a shirt but, it was way to big for him lmao
Geto stood there in front of his mirror dumbfounded. How could someone mess up sizes so bad? The shirt that he had received from a relative on the occasion of New Years was 10 sizes too big. He didn't mean to be ungrateful but, it seemed as though his aunt thought he was a sumo wrestler.
You gently knocked on his door like you always did even though he told you you didn't have to knock all the time. He walked over and opened the door enough to see who was there but so that they couldn't see his body, only his head was peeking through the door.
When he saw you, he opened the door slightly wider so that you could enter. The moment you saw what he was wearing, you couldn't hold back your laugh. You burst into laughter and your eyes watered from laughing. He couldn't blame you. He would do the same if he was in your position.
"shut up. it's not even that funny." he said in a monotone voice with a slight pout on his face. "who gave you that? you yourself couldn't have done such a big blunder." you managed to ask in between giggles.
"C'mon, it was supposed to be a gift for New Years from my aunt. It turned up 7 days later, 10 sizes too big!" he complained.
"well I've got to remember this one." you took a picture before he could protest. "oh c'mon" he groaned. he knew how much teasing he was in for.
You suddenly did something he never really expected. You suddenly lifted the oversized shirt and went in underneath. You were so close. Suguru still needed some time to process your newly established relationship; he was with a dream. Small things flustered him and although he tried to hide it, it was still quite noticeable.
"ahh it fits better with two people don't you think?" you said with a slight chuckle. "this shows that things are just better with you" he said wrapping his arms around you dropping his chin to your shoulders. You felt your face turning red with your eyes involuntarily widening slightly.
You both stood like that in front of the mirror for a while. He was staring at your reflection as if he was trying to see inside your soul to see if you were looking at him to. of course you were; you could never get enough.
