Suguru Geto

If there was one thing in the world that Suguru was relentlessly teased about by his best friend, Satoru, was his long-time crush (and love...) on you.

Suguru had forced himself to be content with being your friend, because being your friend was better than not being anything to you at all. He was happy to be in your life.

But if there was one wish that he could make... it would to be so much more to you.

For years, Suguru would remain calmly by your side through every emotional event in your life. Whether it was crying over exes, or having a mental breakdown over a mission, he was there. And as much as Satoru would tease him about friendzoning himself, Suguru was at least grateful that he could support you.

Even if it was at the expense of your feelings.

It was no secret to anyone that knew Suguru -- he was very clearly in love with you. He may be your friend, but that didn't mean he didn't allow himself the quiet and gentle touches. Your thigh. Your back. Your hair. He'd touch you so casually and you had come to accept it, without even realising why.

Until things changed drastically.

One night, Suguru had opened the door to your crying and trembling body, eyes wide in surprise as he felt your arms wrap around his waist to cry into his chest. He didn't know what had gotten you so upset, but he wouldn't leave you alone like this.

He dipped his head toward your ear, his breath warm, his arm curling around your waist, palm flat against your lower back. He pulled you closer into him, shutting the door softly with his free hand, and slowly stepping backwards to guide you deeper into his apartment.

"Shhh... it's okay... you're okay..." he murmurs softly into your ear, his voice a soothing rumble.

He walked backwards into his living room, the back of his legs hitting the couch. He sinks down, nice and slow so he can pull you down with him, without disturbing you as you cried into his chest.

His legs spread as he sat, and he felt his breath hitch in his throat as he felt you straddle his thigh, your back arching as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. Despite the arousal he felt, having you so close to him but unable to take things further with you, he just silently comforted you, his head tilting in your direction to murmur soft and soothing words into your ear.

And as a few minutes passed, he felt your body tremble, squirming and shifting on his thigh as your tears slowed down, obviously affected by his comfort.

Then he swallowed as he felt you shift, lifting your dress from between your legs, leaving him vulnerable to the feeling of your panty-clad pussy... which he swore felt damp against his pants.

"Prince..." he almost growls, the rumble reverberating in the back of his throat. His hand on your lower back drifted down to the curve of your ass, squeezing one cheek as he tried to hold himself back. You needed comfort. Not anything intimate.

Your breath began to feel progressively heavier against his neck, making his heart pound against his chest. And what was once squirming, became a desperate grind of your pussy against his thigh, your fingers gripping his shirt tightly.

"Fuck..." he breathed against your ear, voice shaky and quiet as you slowly grind against his thigh, his free hand moving up your thigh, beneath your dress and finding its perch on your hip, your skin warm against the palm of his hand.

"Beautiful," he rasps, his throat burning, his cock tenting his pants. "Hmmm..." he groaned, fingers digging into the plump of your ass. "Go on... ride my thigh... make yourself feel better, sweet boy."