#geto drabble

[teddybeartoji]

suguru geto is unbelievably captivating.

he catches your eye immediately – standing tall, he's got one hand on the subway pole to keep his balance. his hair is tucked into his hoodie with only a few strands left out to frame his face. you can only see his side profile but it's enough; a sharp, prominent jawline and a beautiful nose, thin eyebrows, a pierced lip and a pair of tired eyes. you feel bad for thinking it but the dark bags under them leave you no other option.

afternoon sun peeks from the windows behind him, successfully making the scene before you seem like a painting. the colors move; the shades of green flashing by as trees wave you goodbye, the different hues of the tired grays, of the big buildings taking up space as the base of the canvas. splashes of black and white and silver and beige are thrown into the mix, too. his slacks, his big headphones, his jewellery, his totebag. but what truly brings it all together, is his deep, dark maroon hoodie; there's a hint of purple in it aswell, and you just think it's one of the best colors you've ever seen. you figure the thought is a bit silly, but you can't get it out of your head.

something so comforting about it, something so warm and welcoming. something a little murky about it. you can't look away.

you forget about everybody else around you. for you, it's just him in this moment. a total stranger. you don't know him and you probably never will; a pang of hurt hits right under your ribs at the thought. you wonder what his name is, you wonder how his voice sounds. how warm his hands are, and what's his favourite color. no, he doesn't seem like the type to have a favourite color. childish. you'd have to ask about a favourite drink or a book perhaps instead. you're fine with that.

you can spot a few rings on his fingers, a silver watch and a bracelet or two peering from under his sleeve. his hands are pretty. they look good. you also think that you can see a tattoo sprouting from under the collar of his hoodie but the dark lines are blending in with the strands of his hair, so you can't be sure. you want to be sure.

your foot taps against the floor or the cart, your body itching to scoot a little closer to him. you want to see his whole face. you need to. fidgeting with your own fingers, you continue observing the man in front of you. he might step out every second now, you can't waste any more time.

his shoulder seem very broad, his posture almost immaculate. handsome – you think he looks very handsome. well put together. his clothes aren't wrinkled, there isn't a single hair or a speck of dust anywhere on them as far as you can see; the only things that betray his true state of being are his eyes.

purple. glued to the window in front of him, he watches... nothing. he seems a little out of it. he's not focused on the trees or the buildings, the people aside him. you think about what kind of music he might be listening to.

the subway doors open and you jolt, head turning around to look at the platform behind the glass. people stand and leave, and a few come in, leaving an open space for you to take on the bench you're currently sitting on. and you do take it.

there he is.

you can see his eyes a little better now. keen and sharp, he reminds you of a wolf. a malnourished one. the corners of his mouth are tilted down and he really does seem tired. but he's still utterly, utterly beautiful. his skin is almost perfect, his hair shiny and his lips a little glossy. but not too glossy though – no, he definitely uses something like shea butter. something that isn't too thick, something that doesn't smell or taste too strongly. it just seems right.

you've never been this captivated by a stranger before. it's weird. the effect this man has on you without ever even sparing you a glance. you think about asking for it. for a glance. for a second of his time. a fraction of it? anything. everything.

how would he greet you? would he be mad? would he think that you're bothering him? would he give you a smile? a scoff? an eyebrow raise? would he let you ask whatever your heart desires? or would he brush you off, never even removing his headphones when you try to speak to him? oh, it hurts. the blatantly fake heartbreak still hurts.

his trainers are clean - they're white with some accents on them. they match his hoodie. you wonder which he bought first. did he buy the other with the intent of wearing the two pieces together? you want to ask him. that's not his favourite color though, right? no, no – he wouldn't have one. this man reads books and watches movies that are mostly only shown at different festivals. you don't mind it.

films. foreign films. he knows names of the directors from the top of his head, he could probably name a few cinematographers, too. fancy. but that's not his main thing, definitely not. there's something missing, something you can't grasp with just your eyes. what is he passionate about? truly passionate. what does he pour his heart into? is that why he's exhausted? is he tired from loving something? is it starting to hurt now? is it overwhelming? does he want a break? does he want to rest? does he want to get away?

the sun finds your eye from behind his body, forcing you to tear your eyes from him. the cart stops again, the doors open. you try to rub out the slight burn, suddenly a bit frantical that you'll really lose him. you look up and—

he's not there.

he isn't there anymore.

people walk past you, plopping down beside you as you're still trying to find him. turning in your seat, you eye the station. maroon, maroon, maroon, maroon. c'mon, how fast does this man fucking walk?!

but he's just not there.

you think it's unbelievably unfair that it's the sun that made you lose him. isn't she supposed to be full of love? bullshit. with a huff, your shoulders slump and your eyes fall shut while sinking into the bench below you. the cart seems to rumble more now, the seat way more uncomfortable than it was a mere minute ago. you really are disappointed; in yourself and in the world. why didn't you get up? why didn't you speak to him? better to get a no than to drown in the million 'what if' questions in your head. stupid. you're stupid.

"hi."

as you listen to the voice recording of the station names, the very same ones you memorized years ago, you crack open your eyes. your own shoes stare back at you; they're dirtier than his were. you don't think too deeply about the comparison. sun dances on the ground before you, the various shapes entertaining your mind with the shadow play. but you don't stay for long; trailing up, you see the familiar paint and your heart skips a beat. white and maroon. black. maroon. silver.

purple.

[classyrbf]

prisoner!geto who gets sent to the infirmary after getting into a fist fight with another prisoner. His knuckles and lip are bruised and busted and he’s doing the walk of shame down the jail hall. But he doesn’t expect a pretty young woman to be running the infirmary, nearly drooling at the sight because it’s been almost 3 whole years since he last laid his eyes upon one. He’s eyeing you up and down look a piece of meat while you tend to his wounds, completely ignoring his advances because it’s unprofessional. Though, you do find him quite handsome with tattoos all over his arms, a muscular build and his long silky black hair, his smile adding the cherry on top.

“You new here? I’ve never seen you around before.” He watches you put some gloves on, grabbing a roll of small bandages. “Pretty brave of you to be working in all male prison, don’t you think?”

“You must end up in here quite a lot if you know everyone who works here,” you sigh, grabbing his hand and wiping down the dried blood from his knuckles. “I transferred from another prison. It’s nothing I’m not used to.”

He smirks, narrowing his eyes at you. “Oh, yeah? Must be used to all the flirting then.”

“Wow! How could you tell?” You say sarcastically and toss the dirty wipe into the trash beside you. You wrap his hand up with the bandage and toss your gloves into the trash. “You’re all set.”

“Did I mention my head is killing me?” He winced.

“If you’re trying to get pain killers prescribed to you, it’s a whole different process. So I suggest you stop lying and wasting both of our time.” You place your hands on your hips, staring at him.

“Fine.” He stands to his feet, tall stature shadowing over you. You step back a little the more he steps closer to you. “I’ll cut to the chase. I haven’t properly fucked someone in nearly three years, and I’m dying…dying to get a feel of your sweet, sweet pussy.” He backs you into a corner, neck craning down as he whispers in your ear. “Think you can help me with that, doctor?”

You blink at him, your throat feels dry and your heart is pounding against your ribcage. “That is very, very unprofessional.” No matter what words come out your mouth, your body is feeling the complete opposite. “I’ll call the guards right now—”

“C’mon, pretty please?” The corner of his lips tweak slightly. “I know you want to. I seen it on your pretty face since the moment I walked in.” He raises his bandaged hand and runs his thumb over your plump bottom lip.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sternly say. Oh, but he does. He’s reading you like a book right now and that smug look on his face knows it all.

“Okay,” he chuckles, stepping away from you. “Just know I’ll see you around.” He turns to walk out the infirmary and let the guard know he’s all set, but he suddenly turns back around. His eyes look at the name tag pinned to your shirt. “Such a beautiful name.” He teases. “Bye, doctor.”

[brnd3y]

NEW POST FROM @munybagd

i am going to fuck him … i have a thing for men that moan especially the ones with deep voices .. mm makes my toes sweat 😛 ( NSFW )

whimpers came out as he tried his best to talk “ mmm fuck baby p-please,” his nail dug into your hips as he helped you bounce on his cock faster. he didn’t want you to stop — oh no, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if you stopped .. maybe he would cry or beg on his knees. honestly, he would do anything for you to keep going. “ oh yeah … don’t stop — i w-want you to make a mess of m-me ” oh he looked so pretty under you … tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked at you -sucking on your fingers .. he so nasty but you like it. LINK 1

he fucks you sooo good that he’s moaning too. “ o-oh my good girl .. my good fucking girl ” his plan is to slut you out doesn’t matter if it’s in the bed, living room, kitchen, or even the car. he wants you a moaning mess which slowly turns him into a moaning mess as well. “ yeahhh th-there you go .. mm you’re daddy’s good girl, taking my c-cock so fucking well ” It’s like a race ‘ who can tap out first ’ by the way he’s moans you would think it’s him with his heavy breathing but little do you know that this is just the beginning.. LINK 2

sensitive, dom, and a moaning mess … he is a three-in-one! gosh, you love it — the way he sharply breathes in when he strokes his cock into you, the way he moans in between words, and the way he talks dirty to you excites you. “ mm s-say it .. u-use your words, baby ” makes you wanna cum right then and there. he loves hearing you talk, even if it’s just babbling, it makes him smile, but not like you would know cause his face is pressed against your neck due to him leaving deep bite marks. LINK 3

( BOUNS )

no shame in his game . he enjoys making audios for you, especially in random places it’s his favorite thing to do and he ALWAYS sends them to you when you’re out and about. “ guess where i-i’m at baby — mm i’m in our parking g-garage ” things like this turns him on and he knows that you get to turn on hearing him slur and stutter on his words. “ i-i-i have our f-favorite toy .. fuck i wish y-you were here to use it on m-me” gosh why does he do this to you and when you come home he acts like nothing is wrong :/ LINK 4

[tojipie]

content: suguru x fem reader, smut, filming sex

having the world’s most insatiable perv as a boyfriend meant satisfying his needs in the craziest ways

˚ ✧ ──────────────────

“Oh my god that’s perfect,” Suguru whines, admiring your glistening body through his phone’s camera lense. The cold breeze of the living room fan contrasts with the glossy layer of oil he’d rubbed all over you earlier, goosebumps erupting up your thighs and back.

Your monthly photo shoots with your boyfriend seemed to be the least perverted thing Suguru had convinced you to do over the course of your relationship. Every bikini, every set of panties, and every tiny little skirt you brought home deserved got one— his sick little way of christening your wardrobe.

A simple black bikini had set him off this time, something simple you’d bought at the mall last week. You had tried so hard not to roll your eyes after he’d waltzed into your shared bedroom with the dangling from his fist, tempting you with the biggest puppy dog eyes he could muster.

“Please?” He whined, reaching for your hands to pull you up and out of bed. “For me?”

“..Fine,” you say sternly, knowing there was absolutely zero way he’d let you buy something skimpy without taking a couple pictures for his spank bank. You swear you spy him jumping up and down in your peripheral as you strip out of your pajamas.

And that’s —for better or for worse— how you’d ended up on the living room carpet with your boyfriend standing over you, covered in a thin sheen of body oil he’d tenderly massaged into your skin and staring right into the twin cameras on back of his cellphone.

“Fuck— stay like that,” Suguru marvels, adjusting his obvious hard-on through the fabric of his lounge pants.

“What? Like this?” You giggle, pulling at the middle of your bikini top to show more cleavage. The breathy noise it earns you is nothing short of adorable. Suguru shakes like a leaf as he snaps a few more photos, holding onto his sanity by a thread while all the blood in his body drains right into his dick.

You shade your eyes from the camera flash, blowing him a kiss from where you kneel on the carpet. Suguru kneels behind you, a wave of warmth radiating off of him as he reaches to move your hair across one shoulder.

A calloused palm on your back coaxes you face down onto the carpet, back arched with your thong-clad ass in the air.

“Shit…” he marvels. The tiny piece of fabric leaves so little to the imagination, settling in the rift between your lips perfectly.

You wiggle your ass back and forth in invitation, giggling as his thumb pulls the sticky thong to the side and rubs over your heat.

“Take a video, no?” you tease, feeling a thick finger slide into you as the man behind you groans in earnest. Suguru slips his thumb out of you slowly, bringing his hand to your mouth to have you suck his finger for the camera.

“I’m never deleting this— never— fuck,” Suguru groans, dragging the pad of his thumb across your tongue. You hear him save the video before whipping his phone onto the couch, using his free hand to pull his cock out and slowly push into you from behind.

[slttygeto]

tags: pure filth, fem! reader, established relationship, use of a vibrator, squirting, dirty talk.

word count: 1k

sex with suguru could only be described as unpredictable. sure, you were able to detect hints of lust thrown your way by the tall man, thick and rough pads of his fingers skimming over your smooth skin underneath your shirt as he passes behind you, hands gripping your sides and squeezing. your body reacts to his teasing and it’s easy to follow him to the bedroom. he feels in control, likes that sweet words and soft touches can make you end up on top of him, riding his dick like the sweet girl that you are.

however, when the two of you are…excessively needier than usual, sex can turn into something sort of animalistic. the carnal desire to devour one another, bring as many orgasms out of each other and the sounds—the sounds should embarrass both of you.

suguru doesn’t consider himself to be extremely vocal. he groans, moans and shows his appreciation for your ministration on his body but right now—his mouth won’t stop.

“yeah baby, yeaaah,” his words are straight up filth as he presses the vibrator to your clit. his pace is unforgiving, strong hips driving into yours with the force of a predator hunting. your hands are on the headboard, trying to protect your head from the contact but it’s all hazy.

“suguru!” you cry out, eyes staring down at where your boyfriend is pressing the pink vibrator against your clit. your legs try to close from the overstimulation, but a strong hand keeps them open and your head turns to the side with a loud cry.

“keep em open for me, fuck—don’t run away from it, I know you want it.”

your hand grips at the pillow beneath you whilst the other makes a failed attempt at gripping suguru’s forearm. choked sobs and whines are the only sounds you can manage as he starts rubbing the vibrator over your clit, your thighs shaking and twitching at the unbearable yet delicious stimulation.

“yeah? pussy wants a fat cock ruining her and a vibrator, a lil greedy, don’t ya think?”

as he says that, his free comes to your stomach and traces the skin with his thumb, very gentle at first and your brain feels like mush at the contrast between his brutal fucking, the vibrator and his gentle touch. but you should’ve known that suguru is the type to softly lead you into his territory, only to jump you the moment he notices that you let your guards down.

the hand on your stomach presses down and you hear several clicks on the pink device, and when your body jolts up—you realize that he set the level higher.

the gasp that escapes your body sounds inhuman, and your body tries to run away from suguru despite being caged between his strong thighs. he is fucking you with a purpose, needing to prove something—he towers over you and presses his forehead against yours.

“look at me, come on baby look up—theere she is,” he grins at your fucked out expression, half lidded eyes glossed over with tears that had already fallen a couple of minutes ago. “feels good, huh? should’ve done this sooner,” he leans down and kisses your pulse and then travels back up to your cheek and finally your ear.

when he starts fucking you at a different angle, your hands fly down to his hips and your nails dig into his skin. you can’t talk, you don’t trust yourself with words now—but suguru always thought you were like an open book to him. especially when naked and vulnerable beneath him.

“oh here?”

“fuck! fuck fuck fuck—“ you choke out a sob. “suguru—oh baby, I’m close, I’m so so close,” you’re blabbering, barely breathing and suguru’s self control is slowly dissipating. up until this point, he’s been able to control himself and not explode inside you. your cunt was squeezing him deliciously, your cries, the way you said his name or how you held onto him—suguru needed to cum inside you.

“yeah you are,” he breathes out, any hint of playfulness overshadowed by the sudden lust washing over him. his orgasm crept up on him fast, and he needed to make sure you fell over the edge first. “come on, I know you can cum for me,” he says while rubbing the vibrator over your clit.

when you finally cum, the added pressure of his hand on your stomach makes something snap in your stomach and you feel wet. you don’t have time to register, everything is like white noise for a while before your brain leisurely takes control again. your breathing slows down, yet your hands hold onto suguru’s shoulders as he throws the vibrator somewhere in the corner of your bedroom to grab onto your hips properly.

his eyebrows are pinched, a sheen layer of sweat coating his forehead as his bangs stick to the skin. he looks magical, even more so when you start to fuck up into him, help him reach his own orgasm.

“fuck baby—“

“mmm sugu,” you whine at how his dick keeps abusing that one spot inside you. “cum baby, please,” your arms wrap around his neck to pull him down into a hug. “fill me up, I want all of it,”

when being the one talked dirty to, suguru malfunctions. his brain short circuits and his body seizes up as he drops his head on your shoulder. he empties himself inside you with a few more stuttered thrusts, thick and hot ropes of cum serving as the reward of his hard and incessant fucking.

running your fingers through his hair, both of you take the time to catch your breath, enjoy the intimacy and the nakedness of it all. moments like these are precious, suguru’s body nuzzles against yours like a cat trying to live in your skin— and you giggle when his nose nuzzles against your pulse.

“ya liked the vibrator?” he mumbles against your skin.

“oh fuck—“ the realization hits you that were all messy from squirting on him. “I…came messy,” the shyness that washes over you, preventing you from saying “squirt” makes suguru laugh into your neck.

“you mean you squirted?”

“not the point!”

note: another self indulgent piece. will i ever stop? no.

2023: all works belong to @ slttygeto. do not repost my works on any other platofrm.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I could love you with my eyes closed

Tags: Suguru x fem!Reader, smau, (brother’s) best friend to lovers, modern!au, college!au, cursing, suggestive, mention of smoking (it’s up to you how you want to interpret that), reader is satoru’s little sister, mdni

An: I’m actually so excited to start making these again! If you didn’t know, I have a whole best friends to lovers smau series on my page with many other JJK men (Satoru, Sukuna, Toji, Nanami, and Ino). I feel like this one might be juicy with the college setting and being Satoru’s little sister 🤭

Part one. | Part two. | Part three. | Part four. | Epilogue.

[tojilicious]

♡ sitting in suguru's lap, back against his chest while your skirt's hiked up your thighs. one hand is occupied with gently holding you by the jaw while the other is stuffed down the front of your panties—middle finger slowly pumping in and out of your heat with a pace that has your thighs continuously flexing.

"you're so cute, you know that?" his smile is audible in his voice as his lips ghost over the shell of your ear, exhaling a small and warm breath that has you whimpering.

"suguru." you murmur, feeling goosebumps rise to the surface of your skin. " 'm not.." jutting your bottom lip out, you defiantly refuse his compliment with a hushed tone.

"no? .." suguru hums, thumb brushing along your jawline as his finger continues to work you. "my sweet girl isn't cute?" he questions, a hint of sadness in his voice to hear you disagreeing with him.

"no, suguru.." mumbling, you shake your head in his hand.

suguru's used to your brattiness. more than accustomed to you being stubborn when it comes to accepting his compliments—it doesn't mean he won't make you see what he sees, though.

"and how come my girl isn't cute?" his thumb taps your clit and you're quick to suck in a sharp breath at the tiniest bit of stimulation on the nerve filled bud.

"i'm just not.." you're still refusing to elaborate and he's lowering his head to place a few smooches on your neck, right below your ear.

"hmmm." suguru hums against your skin, "i think i'd beg to differ." his tongue darts out to wet the surface of your neck, wiping away the traces of his lips with the wet muscle.

and before you can protest, his ring finger is joining his middle finger in stretching your hole out while he taps your clit with his thumb again.

your thighs squeeze together, the stimulation causing you to grind your hips back and against the bulge you sit ontop of like you're trying to escape his pleasuring fingers.

the noise you let out is as precious as it is sinful; it's a high pitched whine that suguru knows all too well as being his favorite little song.

"oooh.." he coos, "how can my girl not be cute when she's squirming in my lap and making all these sweet little noises for me?" he flaunts, lips attaching to your neck to suck a hickey into your skin.

[chuulyssa]

from people you know to people you don’t: singer!geto

singer!geto with his silver rings clinking against the mic stand when he adjusts it mid-performance. with his fingers running through his long, dark hair just to play on the bad boy persona the media has made of him. with his spot under the spotlight in front of thousands of people to see, who lets the crowd chant in some of the vocals in the chorus while he laughs, gripping the mic and pointing it to his fans, his black painted nails gleaming in the stage lights.

singer!geto who avoids interviews, questions, and who doesn’t sing love songs... but somehow his fans always end up finding love letters in his cryptic lyrics. and he always leaves them unconfirmed too, just smirking whenever paparazzi ask if they’re real or fiction. always answering “my fans are my muse” whenever pressed about his inspo.

singer!geto who leans into the bad boy image of him by the media because it’s much easier to do so than to explain the quiet loneliness and crippling depression he has felt since high school. because it’s much easier to be seen with a new woman every month than to confess to his entire world.

singer!geto who finds himself thinking of you late at night, about what it all could’ve been had he not been so selfish. he doesn’t understand if he’s selfish or just protecting you, but whatever it is, god does it hurt him, and a little voice in his mind hopes you’re hurting as much as he is right now, not being able to touch the skin of your face, or the softness of your lips in his big and lonely penthouse.

singer!geto whose eyes are always searching around in his concert, scanning the sea of unfamiliar faces just so that maybe he could find yours, and maybe that would mean he was finally forgiven for pushing you away for so long, for always having his name in headlines linked to other women who aren’t you, for always being so scared of his own fans for you.

singer!geto who’s lyrics are always penned at three in the morning when his imaginations of you are the most vivid. and he swears to his pr team he’s not in love, never has been. yet they all question how the words pour out more sorrowfully than they would have if it had been all just stupid stories of broken couples.

singer!geto who doesn’t know where you are right now after he cut you off that night. so he travels around the world in the guise of his world tours, and doesn’t forget to explore the whole city in case he finds you in the marketplace buying your favourite fruits like he used to, or in the store with the snack you used to share with him on movie nights, or in the shopping mall where he swore he would buy you pretty dresses when he grows up and becomes rich.

singer!geto who wishes he knew how to grow up happy, who wishes he never dreamed his dream now that he has achieved it, who still wants what he wanted all those years ago so selfishly. even after all those “you have to sacrifice to achieve your goals” he says to the world, he wishes you would unblock him on your instagram just so you could match pfps again, so you could post him on your stories saying “my pookie” again, and even though he said he hated when you called him that, he would kill just to hear it spill from your lips one more time.

singer!geto who would always question why most successful people said money couldn’t buy everything, but has now realized that they were right. money couldn’t buy the way you laughed at his jokes, or the way you smiled at the new song he wrote, or the way you kissed his calloused fingers after a long practice session.

singer!geto who looks at small things at the shopping center and thinks you would like them, so he buys them even though you aren’t here to savour them anymore. he doesn’t remember how often he’s been questioned about this habit of buying clothes that won’t fit him, or things on his shelf that most certainly could never match his style. he could go on and on about the meaning those carried for him, but he didn’t. he couldn’t.

singer!geto who’s a coward, too afraid to take your name in front of the crowd of his thousand or so fangirls. what if you didn't like the spotlight? what if the girls got a bit too crazy? was it his fault for picking this career after all? was it his fault he fell in love with you more than he did for the strings of his guitar?

singer!geto who climbs up on stage for the final day of his tour, and it’s in the old city you used to live in. the old high school the two of you would go to was long demolished, and he couldn’t help but wonder if the love you held for him was destroyed along with that building as well. but among the low murmurs of the crowd, and the light falling on their faces, his eyes search for just one person almost habitually.

and he finds her.

you.

singer!geto who’s always been a bit shy when it came to singing in front of you. so when he sees you in the audience, his voice falters, and he forgets his purpose, and although he isn’t quite sure if his delusions have finally caught up to reality, or if his imagination has become progressive enough to project his feelings in the real world, his eyebrows furrow and his eyes squint as if to demand if you were real. if you were really there.

singer!geto who you smile timidly at, too small in the row of his million or so fans, too much of a speck in the sea to be noticed by anyone else. but he notices. he always notices. and you think this is the first time he has taken this long to tune his guitar on stage, and the others might have missed the faint pink on his cheeks. he was always shy.

“you’ll like this one,” he says as if you haven’t already liked the hundred songs he wrote before.

singer!geto who keeps forgetting the next lines of the song he wrote, and instead keeps adding lines that feel more raw, more real than anything anyone has ever heard before. and he has always refused to sing love songs, then why is this one about wanting to be braver to keep a relationship he quit, his fans wonder. but how would they know that singer!geto performs under the stage lights every night, but he has only ever felt seen when he was with you.

singer!geto who tumbles downstage immediately after the performance, hearing the chants of his name only distantly, just so he can scream at his managers to find the pretty lady in the purple dress he had bought for you so long ago and forgotten about after thinking you would’ve thrown it away just like he had done to you.

singer!geto who finds you walking up to him with a sheepish smile, and his breath catches in his throat. he doesn’t want to believe it is real — he wants to meet you alone, not in front of all the prying eyes of his team. his eyes are wide and his lips are quivering, and the only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is the hand you extended to greet him.

“hi,” you introduce your name, and his shaking hands meet your firm ones.

he stiffens and nods, surprised by the formality but not completely so. his fingers clutch tightly around the back of your hand that he knew so well, but now it just feels so unknown. he desperately tries to claw at you, or rather what he remembers of you, the one who has haunted the lyrics of his songs for so long.

his voice is trembling when he says your name, though it feels foreign on his tongue now. have you changed so much that you forgot him?

“i’m a fan, can i have your autograph?”

you could have the whole man if you requested, sweetheart.

but you don’t know it.

you don’t remember.

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

a/n: i have my math 3h paper tmr wtf am i doing here

[nezuscribe]

geto is so head over heels in love with you that it become all he can think about.

his days are filled with thoughts of you, both pure and not so pure, but you consume his every waking moment.

he gets any girl he want, his name is known across campus. so why was it so difficult when it came to you? you’re one of his oldest friends. there’s no way he could break that pact.

well, he thought so until the two of you were in his dorm room one day, sitting on his bed as you tell him about this upcoming date you have and how nervous you are seeing how it’s your first one.

and it gets even worse when you tell him that you’ve never had your first kiss, your eyes dropping for a second to his lips, and then to his eyes and he’s so screwed because he’s moving closer and closer, telling you that he can teach you how.

and god it’s so bad because when he finally gets to kiss you it’s so messy, teeth clashing and tongues swirling around and there’s spit everywhere and he feels his pants growing tighter around his cock and you’re mindlessly rubbing yourself on his thigh and it’s over for him

thank god you have no intentions of keeping it strictly it platonic

[clawsdevour]

satisfaction

wc: 0.3k content warning: geto x reader, smut, creampie, implied rounds, not proofread

݂ : ᰌ * .

ugh, it's just something about the way he makes you feel so good but queasy at the same time whenever he's inside.

your legs always end up trembling, walking and getting up the day after is such a sore as he put his full force into each and every thrust that makes your spine shiver. slow and sensational strokes were always the best with him as he hips moved in and out.

you love when his slender monolids gaze is on your bare body, the lingering cold feeling that perks your rosy nipples as you arch into the soft mattress. you can't help but feel like the most feral cat whenever his eyes are on you.

whenever his long dark locs of hair fall onto your face as you share a deep kiss, you can't help but feel even more attached to him. even better when you're locked in a mating press with his weight on you.

"wait.. suguru-! i think i'm gonna c-cum again," your lips quivered out as your fingers dug into his broad and tender shoulders, creating small half moons. a smirk creeping onto the side of his mouth, that shit made his tip move on its own.

"keep cumming for me," doing as geto said gently and breathy, you followed his words that he whispered in your ear, echoing as your vision turned into static from the relief.

geto's cock is twitching insanely as your plush and gummy insides mold to his shape. he was just about there, about to spill his hot ropes of milky white seed inside you just as you pleased.

whenever you're fucking, there is no limit with geto unless you're satisfied.

masterlist here

[megumimania]

silly little footballer!geto x wag!reader drabbleeee, this idea has been cooking up since the euros—geto plays for bayern munich #fact! 18+, smut under the cut!

thinking about soccer player!suguru who’s fave pre match ritual is his lovely wife. he gets teased by his fellow teammates and the media for being the “wife” guy in a sport that is known for cheating, crazy parties and boatloads of women and drugs.

it’s not like he cares anyway, not when he has his lovely wife that is all he could dream of and more, you are the most gorgeous and best thing that has ever happened to him and his daughters that you took on and raised as if they were your own with zero judgment.

it’s safe to say he’s smitten with you but he’s more in love with your pussy too. of course he replies as playfully as possible when journalists ask to clarify by what he means by you being his pre game ritual—not wanting to fuck up his brand of being the family man and captain of the team.

“that’s all, my wife she’s just able to get me in the right energy for the game.” he says with a chuckle, generating a chorus of ‘awwws’ from the crowd who’s ready to write an article about how he’s the ideal man for modern day football and how young men should aspire to be like him (he doesn’t share the same sentiment). whilst a billion of cameras flash in his face and journalists quickly scramble to write down what he’s saying.

if only they knew what he really meant.

his big game against dortmund is coming up tomorrow and he’s already pregaming. the girls are with the nanny leaving you and him with ample alone time together. “c’mon baby you can take it.” he says in that honeyed tone that makes your pussy clench even more as he fucks you at that rough-gentle pace you both like.

you’re already spent with your third orgasm of the night threatening to rip through you like a current as suguru keeps fucking you. “I can’t baby, i cant.” you pout as your voice grows more whiny, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. he leans over and wipes the stray tears from your face, placing gentle kisses on your cheeks.

“yes you can, sweetheart.” he croons affectionately as his hand trail down to your pussy, rubbing circles on your clit. suguru revels in your pleasure watching your eyes crinkle up and your back arch from the sheer pleasure that he alone is giving you. it gives him a slight boost knowing that only him can get you like this.

he places sloppy kisses up your jaw as he continues his unrelenting pace. you grip the hotel sheets beneath you as you feel like you’re about to explode with immense pleasure. “sugu baby, ‘m gonna—“ you aren’t even able to finish your sentence as you have your third orgasm of the night.

suguru follows through soon after, falling limp on top of you, spent yet satisfied. “you better win this game tomorrow.” you joke, moving his fallen locks away from his face so you could see him better. he grins placing a gentle kiss to your neck before meeting your gaze. “oh i will, angel.” he says with a knowing smirk, kissing you once more as you were now wrapped up in his arms.

and lo and behold he did, with the game against borussia dortmund ending with a score of 3-1 and the media dubbing you as his ‘good luck charm.’

maybe your pussy does have some magical properties after all.

[teddybeartoji]

suguru knows that you like him. that you have a crush on him.

he can see the way you look at him, the way you start to fidget when he's close to you. the way you keep stealing glances at his hands, and his lips. his eyes. he doesn't miss how you always end up sitting next to him wherever you go, how your thighs keep bumping into his. how you remember the way he likes his coffee and his tea, how you know what kind of shampoo he uses.

and he can see how you grow smaller every single time anyone else gets close to him. how you avoid his keen eyes and how you gnaw on your lip. how you force a smile.

he sees it all.

suguru is nothing if not observant.

but he lets you suffer anyway.

he gives you warm smiles – the ones that make the corners of his eyes crinkle, the ones that make your heart race. he leans down to brush his lips against the shell of your ear, the tips of his fingers lingering on your body just a little bit longer than they should. he lets you play with his hair and he lets you snuggle into his chest during your weekly movie nights. he reads to you when you can't sleep and he holds you when you cry.

but that's all.

he won't let you in any further.

you're stuck out in the rain, clawing at the door like a kicked dog, watching him turn off the lights for the day, only for him to invite you back inside with a sweet smile when the sun rises.

and you go every time.

you want his love, don't you?

[classyrbf]

PART 2 OF PRISONER!GETO

prisoner!geto who can’t stop thinking about late at night, getting so worked up and horny, the most horny he’s been in a while. He’s pulling his pants down, closing his eyes while he pictures the way your scrubs clung to your body and showed off your ass. He thanks god he doesn’t have a bunkie or else he’d be in a real awkward position. He purposely gets into another fight a week later, the wound on his lip opening back up. He’s smiling to himself as he gets walked to the infirmary knowing he’ll see you there.

“Not you again,” you sigh.

“Told you I’d see you soon, doctor.” He sits on the small bed, watching as you put on gloves and examine his busted lip. He can tell you’re avoiding eye contact with him, trying your hardest to ignore his stares and slight touches. “Have you thought about my offer yet?” He asks.

You gulp, blinking as you rub the ointment over his wound. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play stupid, but you remember your last conversation so clearly. It makes you nervous. All he does is laugh.

“Come on. I’ll even beg.” He grabs your wrist, slowing pulling it down, a smug smirk on his handsome face. “You telling me you haven’t thought about it once since we last seen each other?” He whispers. He parts his legs, pulling you in between them. And god, you smell so good. So sweet. He could just eat you up right here.

You stand there, unable to form words because as much as you want to say no, you want to say yes. He makes your heart race and your pussy wet. What a sly bastard. With his stupid tattoos, muscles, hair and chiseled face. You hate how much effect he has on you.

“Listen,” he rubs a hand down your waist, “meet me in the supply closet by the showers during lunchtime if you’re really down.” He flashed a smile before standing to his feet and walking out the infirmary. “Bye, bye, doctor.”

Come lunchtime, you walked through the halls of the prison, mentally cursing at yourself. It’s just one time, one time. You bet he won’t even be there, that he’s just playing a stupid joke cause he’s bored with himself. And as you reach out to open the supply door, your heart beats against your ribcage, looking around to find the halls empty. You step in, seeing him leaning against the wall, the faint rays of light allowing you to make out some of his features. “Well, look who it is,” he chuckles. “Came here to help me out, doc?” He walks over to you, trapping you between him and the door.

“Shut up already and let’s get it over with.” You smash your lips on his, kissing him with such urgency and fervor. His large hands grab at your ass, squeezing and groping it as he pushes you against the wall, knocking a few things over. You both pull away, breathing heavily, lips swollen. “We gotta be quick,” you whisper, undoing his jumpsuit while he pulls down your pants.

“More eager than I am, huh?” He teases, earning an eye roll from you. “Come here.” He bends you over the small wooden table, snatching your panties off and getting a good feel of your ass. His dick jumps, pre cum already leaking from the swollen tip. He’s already so worked up, so ready to feel your wet and tight cunt. “Fuck,” he grunts, running his head over your sopping slit, nudging your clit slightly. “Already so fucking wet.”

He pushes his throbbing tip past your folds, a small gasp leaving your lips when you feel how thick he is. Inch by inch you feel the stretch, you mouth agape as you try and grow accustomed to his size. Geto’s entire body shivers, his fingers pressing into your skin so hard you’re sure he’d leave marks. “Ohhh shit,” he lets out a shaky breath. God, it’s been so fucking long since he’s had some good pussy and he can already tell he won’t last long. He finally bottoms out, feeling your walls clench around his length, sucking him in. “My god,” he laughs in your ear. “Lemme just enjoy this feeling—fuckkk—for a moment,” he moans, eyes fluttering shut.

He finally starts moving his hips, feeling his tip press against your cervix with each thrust. With each passing second, he gets faster, fucking your harder and rougher, your pussy has got him in a trance. “Pussy feels so fucking good,” he grips your hips, pulling you back towards him so you can meet his thrusts. One of his hands reach around your throat, gripping it just enough as he pulls you back against his broad chest. “Do you fuck all of your patients or am I just special?” He jokes.

“Mmmm…shut—ah—up!” You cry out, whimpering when he presses up against you, finding a new angle that makes your eyes roll back. “Just keep fucking me,”you say with a raspy breath.

“Doctors orders.” He can feel the way your pussy leaks, your juices dripping down his shaft and make his cock ache like never before. It almost hurts. He hold you tighter against him, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room. “You take it so well,” he breathes against your skin, pressing wet kisses to your neck. “So fucking well.” His thrusts grow sloppier, chasing his own orgasm. But in the distance, he hears the guards walking down the hall. “Shh, shh, shh.” His hand covers your mouth, his thrusts becoming slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock, every vein, every pulse before hitting that sweet spot deep inside of you.

Your eyes squeeze shut, trying your hardest to keep quiet, the guard getting closer and closer. Their keys jingle with each step and their voices grow louder. “Atta girl. You feel how fucking deep I am…shiittt. Keep fucking squeezing me like that—yeah, yeah you’re gonna make me fucking cum.” His brows furrow as he bites down as his bottom lip in attempts to contain his moans, but his abs tense up and his entire body shakes before he’s filling you up, stuffing you with his sticky, hot cum. “No, no, don’t you dare move. Just like thattt, oh yes!” His eyes roll back, still cumming. His pushes his cum deeper inside of you, feeling it leak back out before he finally pulls out.

Geto truly wishes he could’ve had more time with you. His mouth drooling over the mere thought of how you taste, wanting to make you cum on his tongue, but for now he’ll have to settle for this. “You came inside me, asshole!” You pull your pants back up, turning to face him.

“Couldn’t let it go to waste.” He reaches out and stroke your cheek. “Right?”

“Whatever.” You swat his hand away. “Where are my underwear?” You look around the dimly lit room before realizing he was holding them.

“I’ll be keeping these for later,” he swung them in your face before stuffing them in his pocket.

“You’re such a pervert.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“You have my cum running down your leg right now.” He places a finger under your chin, tilting it towards him as he leans down and kisses you slowly, his tongue sliding over yours before catching your bottom lip. “Mmm, thank you, doctor.” He smiles before kissing you once more.

You push him off of you, trying to process everything you just did right now. It was so wrong but it felt so right, so good, so intoxicating. “If it makes you feel any better, I get out in six months.”

“No. This was a one time thing.” You place a hand on his chest, shaking your head.

“Was it? Cause I don’t think it was. Not with the way your pussy was squeezing around me. It was almost like she was made for me.” He cups your face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes searches yours, a smile forming at the corner of his lips. “Yeah…it definitely isn’t the last time.”

[brnd3y]

ARE YOU SCARED OF DIFFERENT SCENARIOS

yall loved “ i am going to fuck him ! ” so im back with another one ! ( NSFW MDNI ) DONT OPEN THE LINKS AROUND PEOPLE PLEASE ! enjoy !

LOUD BRAT ?!

he’s a man who lives for attention when y’all are out in public people recognize him, at the mall ? getting recognized, just walking with you ? he gets recognized . so he damn there a celebrity and man does he love it ! he loves it so much he starts questioning why you don’t act the same way his ‘ fans ’ do. “ you don’t worship me like they do ! ” he whines on his knees as he lays his head on your lap, “i do baby - ” , “ no you don’t ! mmm you dont love me ” he cut you off lifting up his head to look at you “ you don’t worship me like they do ! you don’t even show me attention anymore ! all you do is call me a brat and crybaby ! ” you sigh rubbing your temple in annoyance while trying to explain why you don’t but he never listens. “ you know what … since i don’t worship you and I don't love you the way they do how about you go ask one of your worshippers to help you when you need it ” … later that night you were out at work as you phone buzzed . it was from your boyfriend he sent you a video ... he first sent you a video of him roughly rubbing himself with his pillow. “ b-baby im soorrry .. ” the following video was him fucking fleshlight crying your name. “ i’m sorry im sorry im sorry p-please fo-forgive me ” so pitiful but so cute but he wasn’t done. three minutes after the first two he sent another in this he has on a ball gag and a vibrator pressed against his cock. no words just tears and muffled begging with the message saying ‘ pleease cume home soonn im sorrty😢 ’. “ he cant even type .. how ridiculous... ” AUDIO ! VISUALS !

CHEATER / FRIENDLY TASTE ?!

you drunkenly came onto him without a second thought " you know your boyfriend's here we cant - " he was cut off by your finger on his lip " mmm I doon't careee … " he looked shocked while started kissing and biting on his neck “ c’mmon please ! he’ll neverr know ” those words are what did it . the two of you were undressed with sweat glistening on both of your bodies “ shh we don’t want to your boyfriend to hear us right ? ” it’s started with his fingers on your clit to his fingers deep into your pussy — “ stay with me dear ” the faster his fingers fucked in and out of your cunt, the harder it was to keep your eyes open. “ t’much — noo more p-please ” you placed your hand on his feeling the fast pace. his voice moved through your ear like music “ move your fuckin hand, sweetie ” your hand quickly moved away as you had an overwhelming sense come over you . “i w-wanna cum please ” he chuckled “ go on make a mess ” AUDIO ONE , TWO ! VISUALS !

2 MANY ATTACHMENTS ?!

if you had to describe him in one word it would be ‘ WHORE ’ whenever he had time he would take nude pictures or videos and send them to you . did you ask for them ? no , does he care ? boo no he doesn’t . So he sends you two to four attachments every other week and they are never the same . one day he’s whining for you “ please baby im a good boy ! i promise i’ve been such a good boy for youu ” and the next he’s degrading you “ how’s my dumb puppy ? are you missing me ? are you missing the way i fuck you stupid ? i bet you wish i was there touching you — you dumb slut ” . remember how i said the attachments are never the same there are times when he'll send old videos of him fucking the life out of your body — your arms tied up with you legs spread apart as he fucks you with vibrator and other toys. there are also videos of him doing requests you’ve asked him and he would never tell you no. “ im surprised you don’t have a pornhub account ” you cracked the joke “ actually, i do … ” .

AUDIO ! VISUALS ONE, TWO, THREE !

[wormdevourer]

I relate to this on an unhealthy level,,

(not my tweet)

[corollaservant]

18+ mdni sugu drabble

Suguru loved picking you up from work on his motorcycle but he would never admit why. He drove an old Suzuki and all your colleagues (not just the girls!) would stare at him, he looked really pretty; waiting for you outside the office, with the helmet around his hands and a cigarette on his lips, killing time on the phone. Once he spotted you, he’d give you a wide smile and put his phone in his pockets. You gave him a peck on the lips and climbed on the back. Even though he did this for a year straight and he always drove very carefully, you had this habit of clinging onto him, enveloping his strong body with your hands and resting your face on his back, smelling his shampoo and leather jacket. You were squeezing him so tightly at times that your chest was pressing directly on his back making him hard while driving. He hated himself for being so desperate but just your body pressed on him drove him insane to the point of his knuckles turning white from his grip on the handles. You had never realized this though you’d notice that almost every time you got home, he’d throw your bag on the floor, push you against the wall and groan like a wounded animal against your neck, kissing you and fumbling with your clothes. His hands would caress your face while his mouth desperately searched yours, he was flushed and needy. ‘’Mhmm baby.. I haven’t even showered yet.. p-please’’ you’d mewl but he’d shut you up with an even hungrier kiss. ‘’I don’t mind princess, need you now.’’ he’d respond, pushing his achingly hard cock on your clothed entrance, rubbing up and down seductively, his tormented voice making you forget everything else (like the question why he was so hard already). He would lift you up against the wall, slide your soaked panties to the side, all that making out with him had you embarrassingly wet as he'd shove himself deep in your pussy, filling you up so good, you’d let a soft moan ‘’S..suguru p..please’’ you’d blurt, not even knowing what you were pleading for, trying to stabilize yourself in his embrace, you were slightly hitting against the wall with each needy thrust, gripping on his tousled hair for support, it turned him on so much ‘’fuck..baby ..don’t do that’’ he’d warn exhaling heavily, your hands on his hair made his cock twitch. You never listened anyway—not until he had your head banging against the wall and neighbors were knocking to ask if everything was alright afterwards.