SUMMARY → where getou can not stop talking about the beautiful future sorcerer he shares his classes with
PAIRING → getou suguru x fem!black!reader
GENRE → fluff, drabble
MASTERLIST→ if you want to read other works of mine
A/N → because you can not fucking tell me he would not like black woman, we are fucking gorgeous. all of them wouldAND they would write poetry about them!
“NO, YOU DO NOT understand! She is so perfect, it makes me want to cry.” Getou sighs out, not being able to hold it in anymore.
Humming, his friend takes his eyes off the training fields and glances at his friends, “Yeah?” he asked.
“She is smart, her technique is fucking crazy and this is just the start of her journey. I could bet money on her being one of the greatest sorceres ever.” he says, unconsciously a smile takes over his features as he thinks about her.
Holding his hands up, he tries to find the words to make his friend understand how perfect this one person is, “And it is all packaged in this beautiful body. The way the sun touches her skin and it just observes it like nothing I have ever seen before.”
“And when she smiles…” he throws his head back. Leaning on the stairs, spreading out his lips as a grin takes over his face, “it’s… It’s like the whole world smiles with her.”
“She is so gentle, and soft. Kind… and easily scared. It gets wounded just like all of us, and when I see it I just.”
Having Gojou hum, he tilts his head to wait for what he has to say, “Want to be a simp?” he teases. Receiving himself a kick to his leg, “There are more women in the world than just ( Y/N ).”
Ignoring his friend, he looks up again. Letting out a dreamy sigh at the mention of her name, “I would do anything to protect her. If there was a way for me to make sure curses could never hurt her, I would take it in a heartbeat.”
Faux whipping noises ring his ears, making him sit up. Glaring softly at the blue-eyed sorcerer, “She was right, we should bully people with blue eyes.”
Geto seems like the kind of guy who would be very nice to the person he likes. Despite his dark personality, he’s polite and caring towards the object of his affection.
That is until he’s rejected.
“I’m sorry, I can’t accept your feelings.”
He’s still all smiles, he’s still the nice Geto you used to know. You don’t even notice that slight twitch at the corner of his lips and the glint in his eyes as you walk away after you apologize.
Days pass and he’s still nice to you, although there’s already an invisible wall between you. Understandable. It would be shameless of you to keep wanting his attention after you rejected him.
You just aren’t ready for a relationship and it would be unfair to him to be responded with such half-assed feelings. But you can’t help but feel a bit bad.
It’s alright. You did the right thing. Everything will be okay.
But as days turn to weeks, you only feel more and more miserable.
For some reason, you couldn’t shake off the feeling of tightness in your chest, the sudden melancholy during odd hours of the day or the deep longing you feel. You have trouble sleeping and when you do, the scene of you rejecting him always plays on repeat. You don’t even know why.
And the face of Geto always appears in your mind.
Who knew rejecting someone could feel this bad.. this miserable. And you could only imagine how he feels about all of this. You saw him this morning. He seems fine and thriving well.
But why are you feeling so empty?
Perhaps you actually like him back?
Now you feel regretful. How stupid of you. If only you could turn back time and take back your words, maybe you won’t feel as sad as you are right now. And you wouldn’t have hurt poor sweet Geto-
That’s it. You have to see him. You need to take him back.
When you appeared in front of him face flushed with tears in your eyes and begging to be taken back, he couldn’t suppress a smirk.
As he thought…
Rejection ain’t nothing a little black magic can’t fix.
I’m having the worst tattoed!geto brainrot so enjoy the first thing I’ve written in like six months.
You suppose that it’s easy to feel intimated looking at Suguru. The tattoos and the lip ring and the gauges and the dark nails and the bun all feel like some sort of caution sign. And the sense of danger is only enhanced when they’re combined with the bored and uninterested expression that tends to make its home on his handsome face.
So, you get why your coworkers always look uneasy whenever they see Suguru standing around outside of the café where you work, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he patiently waits for your shift to end. You get why they look at you and wonder what you’re doing with him.
Maybe you should feel offended on Suguru’s behalf but the stares or judgments of strangers have never bothered him, so why would they bother you? After all, if they took the time to get to know him then they would see.
They would see that underneath the tattoos and piercings and cigarettes and aloofness is so much kindness and softness and love.
When your shift ends and you join him, he always greets you with a loose hand wrapped around your throat as he leans in for a kiss. And you’re sure that to an outsider, it might look like a sign of aggression or dominance.
But neither of those can be found in his soft smile or his warm eyes. They can’t be found in the way his thumb soothingly rubs along your jawline. They can’t be found in the chaste kiss he gives you. And they can’t be found in the quiet, “Hey,” he gives you when your lips part, the one word filled with so much fondness and affection that it makes your heart soar.
People tend to give you a wide berth when you’re with Suguru. It’s something you always appreciate since it means you can walk side-by-side without bumping into anyone. And when you’re at his side, he tends to either sling an arm around your neck or slip his hand into the back pocket of your jeans.
You once asked him why he was so fond of holding you so close in public, expecting some teasing reply about how it was the only way he could grab your ass on the street without drawing attention to himself.
“It’s just nice to remind myself that I’m lucky enough to get to touch you. That you let me touch you,” he had murmured into your hair before dropping a kiss to the top of your head, his response just another indication of how deep his emotions ran beneath his hardened surface.
And for as offputting as the large swaths of tattooed skin might be, especially in a country where tattoos are so stigmatized, you’ve always found yourself entranced by their beauty. You’ve spent hours tracing them, listening to Suguru as he tells you the story behind each and every one.
You don’t think people would be so intimidated by Suguru’s appearance if they knew that he has your name tattooed in your handwriting on his chest, close to his heart “because that’s where you belong.”
