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IM IN LOVE???

contains…established relationship. fem!reader. mutual masturbation. virgin!reader. college au. no curses / sorcerers. reformed player!geto <3. messy making out. cum shot. lovesick!geto (i’m serious). praise. so much fluff. not proofread.

your boyfriend is just so hot.

you have eyes, you have common sense, you have a brain. you’re not oblivious to the stares he gets, and the late-night messages he receives that he’s never once responded to.

you’re fully aware of the countless girls who talk bad about you, whining about how a man such as geto could possibly settle down with a prude like you, and how he’s likely getting what he doesn’t get from you somewhere else.

it doesn’t matter, however.

you know he’s not like that anymore. in fact, he’s far from it.

he’s wrapped around your finger, so whipped you’re practically walking him on a leash at all times. he’s so obviously infatuated with you—that’s why people talk.

he’s in love with you—point blank. he’s incredibly infatuated with his beautiful girlfriend, oblivious to the girls who wantonly text him despite his experiences because, in his mind—if he’s in love, so is everyone else!

the thing is, though, geto has no idea just how similar you two are.

he knows that obviously you love him too, and there is a reason you’re still dating him. but he doesn’t know the entire extent to how much you love him. how much you long for him.

he doesn’t know the nights he’s away, you spend with your thoughts wavering and your mind all foggy.

he doesn’t know you spend your nights apart the same way he does—flushed, aching, and desperate for a release.

it’s not like you haven’t given him any reason to believe you’re sexually attracted to him—you let him know just how handsome he looks all the time. but due to your abstinence, he doesn’t let the compliment spread too far.

he keeps his hands clean, until he can dirty them when you’re apart.

he’s probably a little dense for not realizing you’re just as desperate as he is—there’s just the matter of you being emotionally—or physically, for that matter—ready for such a change in your life.

and if he’s being honest, he doesn’t mind the waiting. there’s a newfound want he’s gained. it’s not the want to get his dick wet, it’s a want to please you.

to make you feel good, to see just what makes your head spin—not his.

you’ve known it from the start that geto suguru will be the man who takes your virginity. but now wasn’t the time—despite how needy your body was reacting to him.

“you’re so—god—annoying,” you pant, lips moving sloppily against his, knuckles growing white from the grip you held on his large t-shirt.

he snickers against your mouth, hand wrapped tightly around your lower waist to keep you pressed below him. you taste so sweet, like the soft serve you were innocently licking just minutes ago that he had absentmindedly asked if he could have a taste of.

it resulted in you childishly eating the rest of the ice cream, claiming there was “no more” he could have. you were giggling about the mess you made, before he assured you there was definitely a way he could still have some.

despite how cold your lips were, he held you tight against his chest, palm cupping your cheek and making a mess out of you desperately.

he’s so painfully good at kissing you. at getting a rise out of you. if you weren’t so scared of the intimacy sex endures, you’d for sure have already done it with him. countless times at that.

he just made you so needy.

“ya should’ve let me have a bite, sweetheart.” he teases, nearly stealing every ounce of your breath and nibbling on your cheeks.

despite the cold sweet was (somehow) still lingering on your tongue, you could feel the sheen of sweat accumulating on your forehead.

he guides his open-mouthed kisses to your neck, wantonly nibbling and sucking on your skin he’s grown to find was sensitive, letting your head topple back while he does so.

your legs were loose where they wrapped around his waist.

“suguru—“ you breathe, mind racing a mile a minute.

he takes a moment to respond, allowing your back to arch and a short whimper part your lips before he pulls away to admire the small purple hickey he charitably made. “what, baby?” he hums, grinning down at his work before leaning back in to pair it with another one.

“what do you do when you get like…really horny?”

he pauses, cutting his new lovebite short before he’s leaning over you again, and this time looking at you in your eyes.

he slides his thumb across your swollen lower lip, fighting a smirk.

“i masturbate.” he says assuringly.

your breaths were still even—still quick. your chest rose each time you inhaled until you exhaled, and the taste on your tongue was a mixture of two things—the ice cream, and your boyfriend.

“and, do you think of me?” you ask.

he’s never told you—mainly because he was always kind of afraid you’d be upset by the fact that he does, indeed.

which, certainly you’d have the right to feel upset. he’s nearly violating your privacy—but then again, he can’t really control his subconscious. it’s not his fault he goes into autopilot as soon as he’s alone with his hand, and the thoughts of his pretty little girlfriend.

he lets out a short laugh, leaking with nervousness, while his eyes waver with maintaining contact.

“well, i mean—“

“because i think of you.” you interrupt, pulling your lower lip between your teeth. your gaze falls to his—how pink and plump they look.

his eyes widen.

“really?” he can’t help but wonder, and that smirk he was fighting had won.

“all the time. every time.” you whine, your knuckles tightening their hold on his shirt.

he could gape, but the sly grin on his face was overpowering. he loved hearing you say that.

“i do too—every time.” he confesses, sliding his tongue across his lips.

he notes the small specks glowing in your eyes, and how your irises grow just a little.

“what do you think about?”

he smiles down at you, raking his mind for every thought he’s had of you—and there were many. he knows just what he thinks about, every single time.

he doesn’t want to walk on eggshells anymore, not after knowing you think of him the same.

“pleasing you. just how you’d react if i did certain things. how you’d sound, look, taste, feel. everything.” he says honestly, sliding his thumb across your cheek.

you couldn’t deny the heat that spread to your face, and just how dryer your throat has gotten. but more specifically, just how dizzy your head had grown.

“what about you? what do you think about?” he asks before you can say anything in response.

you lick your lips, a small chuckle leaving to fan his cheek. “what it’d be like. how you’d feel, and make me feel.” you murmur, flattening your hand against his chest.

he couldn’t deny the way his ego—already overflowing—grew at your words. he knows about his large sexual history, and how people think of him, but this confession instantly made it to the top of his list. he might never forget it. especially since it’s you admitting it.

he can’t help but grin at the image, because he knows he’d make your first time worth your while. worth all of the time he’s patiently waited—and how much longer he’ll wait ahead.

you sigh, gliding your hands up his chest to link around his neck.

“god—i just want to do it. get it over with. you make me crazy,” you admit, chuckling quietly while keeping your gaze set on his lips. “but i can’t yet. i just—i don’t know why. i just can’t.”

he smiles, sliding his palm down the side of your face, brushing short pieces of hair from your eyes before he cups your cheek.

“and i’d never ask you to. i’m happy with waiting, my love. just being in the same room is enough.” he reassures, and despite deep down knowing this, you couldn’t help the feeling of a weight being lifted from your chest.

you swallow nervously, trying your best to ignore your hands which were growing weak and your stomach which was starting to tighten due to a lack of friction your core has been craving for a few minutes now.

“and—but i’m just so horny right now. i’m so—i need you.” you whine, your breaths picking up and chest heaving against his.

he lets his hand that was tight around your waist loosen a little, cupping your waist and looking at you deeply. he almost groans at your words, something he’s never heard come out of your lips.

“what do you want me to do?” he asks, lowering to press a deep kiss to the opposite cheek he was holding, and then another one to your jaw.

you chew on your lower lip, clearly contemplating something in your mind with the way your eyebrows furrow and your gaze wavers. your body was flushed, hot and sticky underneath your clothes—combining with his weight and warmth over you.

you carefully press your hand against his shoulder, using small force until he gets the message and confusingly lifts himself from you, crawling back onto the cushion of the couch that wasn’t occupied.

“i, just—“ you begin to stutter, your sparkling eyes flickering with a certain want—a need—that geto has never seen before and he feels himself swell in his sweats.

“i want you…to, just—“ you trail off again, sliding your pink tongue across your plump lips and he finds himself staring.

that is, until your knees that were previously pressed together slowly begin to separate, and his eyes subconsciously fall to your hand that is weaseling it’s way down your clothed body.

his eyes instinctively widen, watching your dainty and nimble fingers disappear between your shorts and underwear, and the moment your lips part and you gasp ever-so-quietly—he feels his body light on fire.

oh god, you were touching yourself.

right in front of him.

he feels like he might go crazy, the way your head tips back to dangle over the armrest, and the way your chest heaves as your hand picks up its pace.

he wonders why you tilted your head back. is it just a reflex, is that how you always react? or is it to hide your face which is undoubtedly on fire, and avoid eye contact with the man who’s nearly about to short circuit in front of you?

a little part of you is probably embarrassed. but why pay attention to that right now when he makes you act like this? when he gets you so worked up?

“nghh—” you whimper, and geto’s hand moved all on his own. he wraps his hand around his length through his sweats, his eyes lidding when looks at you.

“fuck,” he moans your name, half-trying to get your attention and half-subconsciously just talking. your teeth nibble on your bottom lip when you lower your chin, fragile gaze growing a little more confident when you see just what you’re also doing to him.

when you get to see how you make him feel every time he sees you. he’s never been driven so insane.

your eyes fall to his hand, watching him pump himself through his clothing just like you were doing, before your gaze meets his.

“kiss me.” you mutter, a little more commanding then intended but hey—who’s he to deny?

he surges forward, his free hand cupping and sliding towards the back of your neck as his lips connect to yours.

and it’s so messy. so sloppy, he can immediately taste your saliva. your tongue, so soft and slippery, and there’s moans pushing from your lips while you continue to touch yourself. he makes a silent effort to press himself against you—and the groan he lets out from the feel of your hand rubbing your clit against the back of his nearly makes you laugh around his lips.

“c-can i—do it too?” he stutters, mumbling into your mouth.

you could melt.

“yes—sugu, yeah,” you pant, nodding your head which unlatches your lips. your eyebrows pinch together as the pad of your finger presses against your clit, feeling your wetness soak through your thin pair of underwear.

geto groans, sloppily fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants before he moves to pull them down his legs.

he hovers over you again, hand continuing to palm himself through his thin boxers. he keeps his eyes on yours, watching how the grow a little heavier, and your head rolls to the side to rest your cheek against the cushion.

your hand has picked up its pace, and even though he’d never ask—he wishes he knew exactly what you were doing to yourself because whatever it was makes your chest heave, and another desperate whimper push through your lips and fill the steamy, thick air.

“s’it feel good?“ he sighs, dipping his fingers into his boxers to officially give himself some skin-to-skin contact.

you nod, whimpering. “mm, yeah—i’m s’wet.” you moan, fluttering your eyes closed as you sigh.

his head hurts. he’s aching to know just how wet you are. he’s dying to know how it feels.

but he’s a patient man. in fact, just hearing the way you touch yourself is enough.

his cock is throbbing, it almost hurts to grab when he frees himself from his thin restraint, and pumps his hand quickly along his length.

you open your eyes to peek when he lets out a stifled whimper.

your eyes widen at what you see—and not just because his dick is the first real one you’ve ever seen, but because of how large he was.

his hand was so much bigger then yours, and he couldn’t even fit the size of himself.

his angry red tip, throbbing and leaking. he’s so long, and there’s a pretty pale vein running alongside his length that makes you suck in a breath. you wonder how it’d feel inside you.

he didn’t see the way your eyes widen, only the way your hand seemingly picked up speed below your shorts and he slides his tongue along his lower lip.

“y-you’re—“ you whisper, your eyes moving to trail up his physique you’ve already seen a handful of times, until they meet his gaze. “you’re so big.”

he can feel stars in his eyes, his length twitching immediately, while the compliment puffs up in his chest. he wants to reach out, kiss you all over, make it apparent that his lips were against your skin to anyone who’d be nearby.

“yeah?” he chuckles, rubbing his thumb across his slit. you marvel in the quiet whimper that he involuntarily lets out, watching his lips purse together before his foggy gaze meets yours again.

you nod, but before you could say anything you quietly stifle a moan when your fingers roll over your clit in a particular way, causing your breath to hitch and your head to fall back once again.

geto thinks he can watch you forever, with the way your breaths grow staggered, and your clothed chest heaves when you inhale. his vision grows dizzy when he sees the way your eyebrows pinch, and the way you desperately press your teeth into your lower lip to muffle your quiet whimpers and moans.

he wants the image to be burned into his brain forever—because god, this is what you look like when you’re touching yourself. this is what you look like when you’re alone in your bedroom, thinking of him just like he does to you.

he almost feels embarrassed when he can feel the all-too-familiar build up in his lower stomach.

his eyes roll when he lets out a low groan, subconsciously leaning forward and pressing his free hand to the armrest beside you.

“‘m close,” he whines, embarrassingly so because usually he could last much longer—but you made his will fly out the window.

you nod slowly, picking up your pace before a quiet sob of, “m-me too,” wobbles out of your throat.

his eyes warily open at your words. he needs to see your face when you cum. he peeks his gaze down to your hand, and it’s only then when he realizes—he’s actually about to cum.

“where should i—i dunno—“ he’s stuttering, panting while he speaks and he’s surprised it’s even intelligible.

but when you arch yourself a little more, bringing yourself closer into him and your eyes move to meet his—he thinks he might burst right then and there.

or was it when you silently use your other hand to raise your—his—shirt, securing it just under the mound of your breasts to reveal your soft, plump stomach and you look him dead in the eyes when you say, “here. do it on me.”

“what?” he breathes, eyes lidded.

you scoot in closer to him. “cum. on me.”

he doesn’t know exactly what it was that did it for him—the gesture, or your persistence? whatever it was, that was enough for his eyes to roll back and deep, low groan force it’s way out of his throat.

his dark tresses fall around his face, despite the way he kept it in a loose bun. his jaw breaks open, pinched eyebrows and lidded eyes molding across his features the same moment the pumping of his hand staggers.

you moan on your own, nearly grinning under your matching expression when your hand matches the speed of your breaths, and the warm splatter across your stomach is enough to make you finish.

“fuck,” he drawls, voice croaking and head dangling.

your body grows limp, head falling back onto the cushion of your couch. your breaths suddenly become very audible, both yours and geto’s matching as they slowly calm down.

although geto has had countless sexual experiences, this was by far the most intimate thing he has ever done.

he couldn’t stop himself when he leans in to cup your cheek, pressing your warm lips against his and stealing every ounce of breath you had left in your lungs.

your knee presses against his hip, caging him close and pressing his soft lips to yours. you let out a short moan, accepting his endearing kiss despite the fact that you were still trying to catch your breath.

“i love you,” he mumbles, peppering his kisses to your cheek. “y’didn’t have to do that…”

“well it wasn’t really for you.” you snort honestly, smoothing your fingers through his long dark hair. “i needed that.”

his stomach flips, his short kisses never faltering until he raises his chin to plant a longer one right on the middle of your forehead.

“let me get you a towel.” he sighs, using his weakened strength to lift himself off the couch, taking a turn down the hallway where he knew you kept your spare towels in the bathroom. he grabs a small wash cloth, dampening it quickly.

his cheeks were red and flushed, much like the rest of his skin. his forehead was sticky, long black strands sticking to his skin but he paid no mind.

you purse your lips, letting one of your legs lay across the cushions of the couch while the other props next to you, your eyes fall to the rather large, thick, white ropes of cum sitting on your bare stomach. you hardly stifle your chuckle.

something about tipping him over the edge like you did—it made your ego explode.

that’s never happened to you before.

he returns a mere few seconds later with a damp towel in his hand. you allow him to gently wipe it across your own sweaty and flushed skin, leant back against the armrest in peaceful silence.

his soft, smooth hands slide against your dampened stomach, gently pressing his thumb into the plush endearingly.

“are you feeling okay?” he asks, and when you make eye contact you don’t miss the way his pupils grow.

“why wouldn’t i be?”

he shrugs, but inevitably accepts the way your arms open and your knees part to make a slot for him to lay. he presses his face into your upper chest, cheek smushing.

“because you’ve never done anything like that. not with someone else, at least.” his voice comes out a soft mumble. “i just wanna make sure you’re really okay.”

he melts into your loving hold, your legs wrapping around his torso and fingers running through his hair.

“i really am. i love you, suguru—i promise, that was exactly what i needed.” you press a small kiss to the top of his head. “i want to do more, i really do. but—baby steps.”

he gives you a tight squeeze, raising his head to press his cheek into the crook of your neck fondly.

“take as long as you need, my love. i’d never ask you to.” and you know he’s being honest.

his eyes open to lock with yours when he raises his chin. “but i hope you know that if you let me take your virginity, i’m not going to let you just ‘get it over with’.”

you head lulls when you let out a short chuckle, relaying the quote in your head before your hand meets his warm cheek, and you lower your chin just a little to press a kiss to his pink lips.

“when,” you correct. “there’s no other man i’d want to experience my first time with then you, suguru.”

sorry if this is so cheesy and corny and rushed ugh i haven’t posted in so long </3