Y'all Ever Think About How Gale Has Daddy Issues?

Private Lessons: Part 2

Reader part 1 here! Dw, it follows without the buildup.

Here’s the spice! I prepped the first two chapters before I released it. I’m not a sadist, we all know we’re here for the dirty stuff. The first smut is a bit self-indulgent. I have a daddy kink, sue me. 

Kinks: Bondage, teasing, teacher x student (AGED UP), mild Daddy kink and DDLG terms (no ageplay in this house), oral sex. 

Art not mine meep.

“Well, here we are, Sensei!” you announced as you crossed the threshold into your small apartment, Aizawa close behind. The tired hero removed his shoes alongside you, lining them neatly against the wall before giving the room a quick scan. 

“Not bad. A minimalist. Just like me.” A soft smile tugged at your lips. “Are you sure you’re alright with this?” uncertainty was present in his voice as he quirked a brow skeptically and shrugged off his leather jacket. It was hard not to swoon. He somehow managed to move gracefully even during such mundane tasks. 

“Of course! it’s my fault we stayed so late anyway.“ 

"Well, more like Hizashi’s,”  he corrected you with a light chuckle, sliding one hand in his pocket and sending the other running through his silky black hair. A relieved sigh ghosted past his lips. It was strange, standing in the home of a former student, but your confidence was reassuring. "I have a feeling you wouldn’t have sang karaoke for so long if not for his insistence." 

"True, but I enjoyed it! I think I want something warm to drink." 

Aizawa watched you bound off to the kitchen. He couldn’t help but think you looked cute like that; standing on your tiptoes, quietly humming to yourself as you searched the cabinets for tea. 

"Would you like some, Mr.Aizawa?" 

He shrugged and nodded, shifting his weight to the other hip. "Sure, (Y/n)Thank you for asking… You’re very formal, you know.”

“Well, of course! I understand a few years have gone by, but I still respect you as my teacher.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind” You missed the smirk pulling at his mouth as he slumped into the dining room chair. From the corner of your eye, you noticed him rubbing his palms on his eyelids. 

Half a decade had passed since then, but you hadn’t forgotten the severe injury suffered by the hero during a villain attack on the USJ. The incident left his eyes even more sensitive than they were previously.

Your lip tilted in a slight frown and you quickly tried to shake off the thought, unable to handle the image of him wounded and, undoubtedly, scared.

“Do you need eye drops?” you offered, tone laced with genuine concern, “I actually bought some recently, they haven’t been opened yet.”

One tired, dark eye cracked opened as he turned to look at you. “My, my, aren’t you considerate?”

Something in the way he spoke the words made you squirm. You palmed the back of your neck sheepishly. The heat quickly rushing to your face. Positive he could see the tinting of your skin, you turn away in haste. 

“W-Well, I just know it doesn’t feel good to have… dry eyes.”

Shouta softened at your words. Shit, he couldn’t even mess with you when you were being so sweet; it was too fucking cute.

“No need to get all rosy-cheeked (Y/n), just stating the obvious. I have some on me, but thank you for the offer.”

Your tense muscles relaxed. Satisfied with his response, you continued the process of making tea. If you recalled correctly, his favorite flavor was spiced vanilla chai. You found the blend easily, tossing it in the pot and leaving it to steep. A pleasant, warm aroma filled the air and you inhaled deeply to savor it.

Aizawa used drops in each irritated eye and held them closed with a deep sigh. letting the soothing solution settle in. They would help the irritation, but damn did it sting when the drops first hit his eyes.

You thought now would be a good time to catch up on some phone notifications, only to be disappointed that nothing worthwhile had come through during your evening. Spam, spam, ‘10 Ways To Spice Up Your Hero Outfit,’ text I don’t want to read, ‘Notorious Villain Captured By Rookie Team Kiribaku. All junk. you continued mindlessly searching through the feed until you heard the water start to bubble.

“Anything interesting going on in the world?”

The unexpected baritone voice almost made you leap out of your skin, knocking over a teacup and sending it careening towards the floor. Shouta reached out, catching the dish moments before it hit the ground. 

Apparently, the seasoned hero’s reflexes were as sharp as ever. 

“Didn’t mean to scare ya, kid.”

You squinted at his tone; it was far from apologetic. If you didn’t know any better you might believe he did it on purpose just to get a rise out of you. 

"Jesus, you’re like a cat.” you hissed, still frazzled from the scare.

A satisfied smirk split his face, “I take that as the highest compliment,” Shouta hummed, replacing the cup before quirking a brow and leaning past your shoulder to examine the box of tea leaves resting behind you, "Is that vanilla spiced chai?”

“Yep!” you chirped, perking up at the recognition, “I remembered seeing you drink it a few times during my school years. Hopefully, it wasn’t just because you had no other options, heh.”

Long arms folded over his chest as he gave you a quick once over. It struck him as… interesting that you’d remember such a mundane fact.

“No, I like it.” he assured you with a soft grin, “You really remembered that huh?“

"Y-yeah. Is… is that weird?” you shrank under his gaze, fearing you’d just outed yourself as a massive creep.

“A little,” the teacher chuckled, his reassuring smile going unnoticed as you couldn’t bring yourself to match his gaze. 

Your thoughtfulness was… endearing.

“Oh, s-sorry, well uh, heRE YOU GO!” hands trembled slightly as you passed the man before you a cup of the fragrant brew. He accepted gratefully with an appreciative hum before returning to the dining table.

A comfortable silence followed; the pair of you enjoying the comforting warmth of the tea. It wasn’t until a few minutes later that the sound of Aizawa’s fingers tapping rhythmically on the table broke through the quiet.  

“You know, normally people only remember tiny details like that when they have a crush.”

You choked on your drink. The sudden accusation had heat flooding to your cheeks and you starting sprinting down a path of panic and self-doubt, “WHAT!? Mr.Aizawa, please, don’t be ridiculous.”

His powerful shoulders shrugged casually as he took another lazy sip. 

“What’s All-Might’s favorite drink?” he interrogated, clearly amused and not interested in letting you escape the uncomfortable line of questioning.

You feverishly searched your memory. Dear God it was hard to even remember their faces right now, let alone their favorite drink.

“What about Midnight’s? Mic’s? Snipe’s? Any of your former classmates?” the pro hero’s tone was practically dripping with satisfaction. A smug grin creeping ever further up his cheek. Your reaction was almost too good. 

“I- I don’t know, and I bet you don’t either!” the words tumbled from you,  brows furrowed in concentration as you stared at the countertop. No way could you bring yourself to look at him right now.

“Nope, I sure don’t. But, then again,” your fingers dug into the wood, irritation creeping up your spine, “I don’t have a big. Fat. Crush on any of them." 

You slowly turned to glare at him, only to double over in laughter when greeted with his smug, toothy grin. 

”PFFFT! Okay, okay,“ giggles bubbled in your chest, forcing you to surrender, "yes, in high school, I had a crush on you. Most of the girls did, you know." 

He bobbed his head, lips held in a flat line giving him a serious expression. "This is true. I am devilishly handsome. It’s a curse, really." 

A pained groan escaped you as you rolled your eyes dramatically. You couldn’t help cracking a smile. His satirical narcissism always amused you.

"I think most female students find 'bad boy’ teachers attractive, Sensei.” You grabbed your tea and joined him at the table. A loud yawn shuddered through you when you settled into the chair opposite Shouta.

“Tired? It is pretty late. Perhaps you should sleep.” His own heavy lids drifted shut when he leaned into the chair back. 

You shook your head. "I’m alright. This will wake me up a bit. I know you stay up late most nights and I can’t have you rifling through my things.” He chuckled at your sly wink.

“Fair enough, I am the type.”

Another long silence followed until his voice once again cut through the air. 

“You know… there is a slight difference between you and the girls who normally swoon over me.”

“Oh?” You asked, taking another sip and preparing yourself for the 'you’re much more mature and less annoying,’ trope.

“I haven’t become attracted to any of them.”

Tea sputtered across the table as it rocketed from your lips. Shouta erupted into a rare and genuine fit of roaring laughter. He ran to your kitchen, pulling some paper towel’s from the counter before returning to help with the mess.

“Are we in a 1990’s sitcom?" 

Angrily, you snatched the towel from him, trying unsuccessfully to stop tea from trickling to the floor. 

"Why would you say something like that!? How embarrassing,”

Shouta crossed his arms and looked you over, watching your hands work frantically to clear the area of spilled liquid.  

“Because it’s true.”

The words shot jolts of electricity up your spine and you couldn’t help but stammer. “ I-I think you had too much to drink.“ 

"Nope,” he shook his head, grinning slightly, “Sober as a bird.”

Shit. 

Breathing became difficult as your throat constricted. Were you really hearing this? Shouta Aizawa, pro hero Eraserhead, your former teacher, just confessed to you.  

“But hey,” he added casually, throwing his hands up. “if you’ve grown out of that crush I understand. No hard feelings.”

Your eyes lifted from the spill and slowly scanned his frame, paying special attention to the way his toned stomach remained visible through his tight-fitting black sweater. His body was relaxed yet alert, and that fucking hair of his. It rippled in loose waves around his shoulders and you couldn’t help imagining how it would feel tangled in your grip as you writhed in pleasure beneath him. The lewd thoughts sent your heart racing and your face filled with blood.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.” he chuckled, noticing your dazed appearance. He scratched his head in thought, glancing to the side momentarily before setting his eyes on you again. “Well, if you wanted to test it out, I could always give you… a kiss?”

Oh fuck. 

“I never want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable, though. So if I’m being a creep, let me know. I’ll back right off.”

You knew he meant it, but with the way your mind was spinning and your eyes roved his solid frame, you knew there was no chance in hell you’d let this opportunity slip through your fingers. Jesus, you were practically drooling just admiring his fully clothed body.

“Y-Yeah, okay.” you barely managed to squeak out the words.

“'Yeah okay’ leave you alone? Or 'yeah okay, kiss me Sensei?’”

You shut your eyes tight and felt the tension rise in your neck and cheekbones, before mustering up the courage to answer.  

“Y-yes, you can kiss me… if you want.”

Gentle hands slipped around your waist, lifting you from the wooden chair. They pulled you closer, and he tilted your chin up to his soft gaze.

“You know,” came his silky voice, so low and soothing, “it might be nice if you looked at me, even if just for a second. Don’t you wanna make sure you’re kissing the right person?”

You chuckled at that, opening one eye dramatically for a quick peek. His handsome face beamed down at you and you can’t remember the last time you felt butterflies take off in your stomach. 

“Yep, that’s the right guy.”

His rugged features softened at your words. He was mesmerized by the innocence in your needy, lust blown eyes. Cool, nimble fingers brushed soft strands of hair from your face as the other came up to cup your cheek, almost protective in the way he cradled it in his palm.

“You’re beautiful…(Y/n).”

Your plush lips parted and his mouth pressed against yours in a slow, passionate kiss that had you leaning, no, melting into his touch as quiet moans of comfort reverberated between your lips. It was like a soothing melody; almost unheard and meant only for you. The gentle tickle of his tongue dancing with yours, the pauses, groans, and sighs, all worked together to put you in a blissful trance.

A small whine left you as he pulled away.

“So,” he sighed, forehead resting against yours affectionately, “still have a thing for your grouchy homeroom teacher?" 

His half-lidded eyes searched your face, brows furrowed in focus as he sought out any signs of discomfort or trepidation.

If you didn’t before, you sure as shit would after that. 

"Mhm,” is all you could manage through your almost painful grin, pleasant warmth bloomed in your chest and spread throughout your limbs. You buried your face in his strong chest, earning an ‘aww’ from the rugged man above you. He laughed gently as he stroked your hair, enjoying the way you sought comfort in his arms. 

Shouta couldn’t help noticing something different in the way you now clung to him. 

“My goodness,” he spoke slowly, the bass in his voice vibrating your shoulder, giving you a pleasant shiver. A nervous knot formed in your stomach when he suddenly pulled back to examine you, “my dear student, your face is quite red… you seem to have gotten a bit warmer as well." 

Amusement and arousal welled in him when you squirmed beneath his scrutinizing gaze. "Could it be that someone’s a little… excited?”

Your knees grew weak and you let out a needy, shuddering whine. It wasn’t until then that you noticed how wet you’d become from the kiss. 

“Hmmm… I thought so.” he clicked his tongue, “Flushed cheeks, warm skin, thighs squeezing together for just a hint of friction. All the signs are there."  Thick ribbons of raven hair rustled elegantly as he shook his head with a hopeless sigh.

"Yeah… so what if I am?” you giggled, somehow completely unashamed, burying your face in the safety of his chest once more. He pulled you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“If you’d like, I can offer you some… relief.”

The words ignited you, legs trembling and muscles going weak in his embrace. It didn’t go unnoticed and Aizawa nipped your earlobe with a devilish grin. He gripped your chin, turning you towards the dining room. “You have a really nice table over there, why don’t you go lay on it for me?”

You peered back at him, mind swirling with all the possibilities; all of which ended with you screaming his name for everyone in the building to hear. Reluctantly, you pulled away, legs barely supporting you as you drifted to the table where you sat, legs crossed and dangling over the edge. 

Aizawa approached you, confident now that you wanted this just as badly as he did. Your bare knee grazed his thighs as his long, thin fingers slipped up your exposed calves, sending a light shiver up your sides. His mouth hovered close to yours, warm breath breezing over your plush, parted lips, thrilling you with the possibility of another mind-blowing kiss. 

Fuck, you wanted him. You needed him. 

“Yeah,” he growled, looking down at your closely folded legs, “that’s not gonna work for me." 

Faster than you could react, his irises flashed red as he bound you with his capture weapon, spreading your legs for better access. You squeaked pitifully in surprise, much to his satisfaction.

"Gotcha,” he chuckled, hands holding the fabric out to either side of you. He groaned at the sight. You chest heaving with need, eyes wide, legs spread open like a book before him. It sent a rush of adrenaline flooding through his veins. 

Oh, the things he wanted to do to you. 

“You really are considerate,” he purred, quirking a brow to look up at you, “Did you wear a skirt hoping I’d do this?“

You knew he didn’t need an answer. He was getting off on watching you writhe beneath him, and you loved every second of it. You’d half expected him to chide you for wearing something so unsuitable in cold weather, but thankfully he seemed to be thinking with his other head for the time being. 

He pushed down hard on your shoulder, urging you to lay flat on your back, your legs still held open wide by the strong fabric. A low growl rumbled in his throat as he relished in your helpless appearance.

"This is just how I imagined you. Aching, on display, and ready for me to inspect.” He clicked his tongue, pondering over his options. “I think since you’re so partial to formality, you should continue calling me, 'Mr. Aizawa, 'Sensei,’ and, 'Sir.’ Do you understand,(Y/n)?”

You’re so high on adrenaline and dopamine all you can focus on is your unending need to be fucked senseless. You nodded, but he shook his head. “That’s not an answer, princess.”

“Y-yes Mr. Aizawai, Sir.”

"There you go.” he groaned, blood rushing to his already stiffening cock, “You always were a fast learner.”

“W-wait,” you tried to protest as he wrapped one end of the scarf around his own shoulder, freeing his left hand to toy with your dripping folds.

“Shhh… Let your teacher get a good look at you.” A violent blush claimed your cheeks and you squirmed against the restraints. Fuck, he was so close, staring right at your quivering pussy with darkened eyes. “Be bashful all you want, I see everything just fine.”

Steady fingers reached forward, confident as they pulled your panties to the side to reveal your puffy pink lips. You tensed up at the sudden vulnerability, exposed for his viewing pleasure and powerless to close your legs and hide it.

His lips pursed to form a low whistle.

“Damn… to think you were hiding something so perfect from me this whole time. What a pretty little pussy you have… You tense up when I look at it,” he groaned, tilting his head slightly, “the way it squeezes around nothing… so eager. it makes me want to sink my cock into you.”

Your hands flew to your face in a failed attempt to shield your embarrassment and stifle the shameless moan that ripped through your body. It felt like a fire was sparking to life between your legs with every second you withered under his lustful gaze.

His thumb grazed your opening, collecting just enough dew to prime your clit for him to rub.

"Ahhh, M-Mister Aizawa, pleeease.”

He gently stroked the swollen bud, steadily tapping and flicking, watching your hips buck to the rhythm as you twitched with every jolt emanating from the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

“Just making sure it’s nice and ready for me.” His palm turned upward and he took the time to drink in your lewd expression before sliding a middle and ring finger inside your aching walls, curling them into the soft flesh that made you squeal. He cursed when he felt your walls cling to him, coating his fingers in your juices.

“S-Sensei, Ahh.”

“Mmm. That’s it. Melt around my fingers, kitten.”

The pet name brought you higher than you thought possible. Your eyes rolled back and your ass arched off the table. You needed him deeper and your greedy cunt was begging for more.

“Yeah… that’s a good girl.” He was intoxicated by the image of you mewling and begging while he twisted his skilled fingers, thrusting them into you over, and over again. Your cries become more desperate as he quickened the pace, fuelled by the high pitched sounds tumbling from your throat.

“Please, Sirrr” you pleaded breathlessly. 

"Please what,(Y/n)?”

“Don’t stop -ah- it feels so good~”

His lips curled as he left you empty, nearly causing you to cry at the loss of contact.

“Sorry kid, but I’m a bit selfish.” Aizawa tied the ends of his scarf to the table legs, restraining your entire lower body, then pulled up a chair to position himself in front of your wide-open legs.

“That’s better,” he grumbled, pleased with his new position, “now I can get a good look at you.”

“That’s so embarrassing, stoppp” It was no use. You couldn’t move your legs against his capture weapon and the loss of control only worked to further soak your eager cunt.

“Sorry, no can do. My little girl’s pussy is way too cute not to look at.

“His” little girl?

Your heart leaped in your chest but you didn’t have time to revel in the moment.  His head dipped and he tore a small hole in your panties with his canine before ripping them from you.

"What are you doing?!”

“They were in my way. I couldn’t risk letting you escape by untying you first.” a mischevious grin split his face and it had your hair standing on end. Fuck, he was such a tease. “It was the only logical option." 

He pulled the tattered fabric to one side, leaving you completely bare. Blood rushed to his cock and a carnal growl rolled from him as his hungry eyes consumed the quivering pink flesh between your folds.

"You see,” -he propped his elbow on the table, resting his cheek lazily in one hand, starting to work against your silky walls with the other- “when I make you cum, I think I deserve to see every little shudder and throb this pretty cunt makes. Don’t you agree?”

Again you try the restraints against your thighs. 

“Tsk, tsk. See? I knew you couldn’t be trusted. Can’t have you being bashful and interrupting my show.”

You’re filled in an instant when he plunged his skilled fingers deep and your back arched off the table, head tossed back in an unrestrained moan. You were helpless against the skilled digits, grunting and whimpering as he worked you up to a peak. 

“I think this puffy clit needs some attention…” He leaned forward, pressing his tongue to the neglected bud. You moan loudly as he licks in rhythm with his beckoning fingers. Lips wrapped around the swollen bundle of nerves and he groaned against it, eyes closed as his mind swam in a lustful haze.

“Fuuuuck yes Mr. Aizawa.”

“My, my, such foul language from such a good girl. Are you maybe a little naughtier than you let on?”

You trembled as his fingers dove deeper, rubbing firmly on your g-spot. Wet, warm walls squeezed hard around the invading digits. Your hips rolled and you chanted his name like a mantra. Scruffy lips vibrated against your clit as he moaned into your pussy, your mewls of pleasure and the sweet taste of your arousal going straight to his aching cock. He pulled back briefly to notice your tensing and quivering muscles.

“Ohh… you’re getting close.” He licks your clit again, pinching it briefly between his teeth.

“P-Please don’t stop… Daddy!” 

Oh fuck, you didn’t mean to say it. But it just came out.  

His head snapped up at the name.

“Oh shit. Daddy? FUCK,” his movements began again with renewed purpose and he was about to lose his damned mind, “fuck yeah babygirl cum on my tongue.”

He wrapped his lips around the bundle of nerves once more, pairing his sucking with skilled flicks of his tongue. He committed fully to pushing you over the edge and you lost yourself in the sensation. You cried out his name, jerking your hips as much as you’re able with them bound. His free hand reached up to play with your over-sensitive nipples at just the right time and you exploded around him. Your moans were shameless as you flooded his tongue and palm with your juices. His pace slowed and he rode out your orgasm, relishing in every last throb before withdrawing his hand in favor of smoothing his hands up your trembling thighs as he left one more appreciative kiss on your pussy.  

You lay spent and satisfied, panting heavily.

“Well well, someone’s happy.” He said with a grin,. “What do you say?”

“Thank you s-sir,"  you barely managed to choke out the phrase. 

"Mmm, that’s it. Come here.” He walks to where your head lays at the edge of the table and brushes his fingers on your lips.

“Clean them off for me.”

Your heart jumped and goosebumps spread over your skin, but you happily obeyed, lavishing your tongue over the digits. His breath hitched when your eyes fluttered open and you stared up at him through your lashes. 

“Good girl. Fuck, (y,n) you looked so beautiful like that.” 

You softened under him, melting at the adoring look in his eyes. His nose nuzzled against yours briefly before he pecked you softly on the lips, silky tresses of his messy hair tickling over your cheek. 

“Are you okay?”

You nodded, still in a stupor from the intensity of your release. 

“Good.” 

A calloused thumb stroked your cheek. Shouta leaned down to your ear, letting warm breath breeze over your skin.

“I liked that little pet name…” 

Aizawa hummed, positioning himself so that his crotch was level with your head. Dark eyes gazed down at you with that strict, all-too-familiar expression he wore as your teacher all those years ago. 

“Then wouldn’t it be polite to repay my generosity?“

Exception

Dark!Geto Suguru x reader

5.8 wc

Synopsis: You never bothered with Suguru's crush on you, knowing it would fade. After meeting him again years later, you make the horrible discovery that his feelings for you have only festered.

(Warnings: yandere, dark content, murder of a side character, slight gore, violence, rape/noncon, vaginal fingering, piv sex, unsafe sex)

When you were in your first year of college, you got a part-time job at a nearby cafe. 

It was easy work. Make coffee. Bake some pastries. Attend to the customers. Nothing too unmanageable. It was an insignificant part of your life. 

Then, Gojo and Geto came along.

Insufferably annoying. Especially, the loud one. They always caused a havoc in the cafe, often to the point where the manager had to physically kick them out. It was a turbulent two weeks, until one day you promised them if they kept it down, you'd let them try a few of your experimental pastries. 

Really, it was your own damn fault. They started coming every day after that, mostly to bother you. The only reason management hadn't outright banned them was probably because Gojo made 50% of their entire revenue. 

You warmed up to them eventually. Your fake smiles turned into more amused ones because of their antics. Once or twice, they'd get a good laugh out of you. You've heard rumors of a private, religious highschool nearby. You always assumed they were a byproduct of that. 

Eventually, Gojo becomes Satoru. Geto becomes Suguru. Nice kids, if not a bit overzealous. Despite refusing to hang out with them after work, you had to admit, you grew a bit attached to them. You found yourself asking about their day, hiding sweets for the two of them, sometimes you'd even let them steal a croissant or two. 

You bet the reason they hung around you was because, to them, you were some cool college student. Secretly, you found it a little flattering. Some days, their friendship was the highlight of your shift. It's clear Satoru is always the instigator, always looking like he's about to bounce off the walls (you have told him to lay off the sugar), it's not like Suguru was any better. He tried to act like he was the more refined part of the friendship. He often fails, at least in your eyes. 

It becomes pretty apparent that Suguru had a crush on you. You're not sure when exactly you started to notice the bashful looks, the slight flush on his cheeks whenever you accidentally brush his hand, the fact that he visits far more often (even though Satoru has the sweet-tooth) but you can't unsee it now. It doesn't help that Satoru looks downright giddy whenever his friend talks to you, barely controlling his giggles in the background. His reaction and Suguru's irritation often start a few skirmishes right outside the cafe doors. You've told them multiple times to take their fights in the alley at least. They never listened. 

For his sake, you don't acknowledge it, already knowing what it is. A schoolyard crush. Harmless, it'll pass. Eventually, when you're a distant memory to them, Satoru will tease him about it and Suguru will give a playful elbow nudge. Much to your relief, Suguru doesn't pull you to the side and confess. He's refined, in that way, never giving too much until you have the evidence and clues yourself. 

It continued like that for months. And then, something changed. 

They stopped coming around as much. Daily visits turned weekly. Weekly turned to every so often. Their energy felt off too. Satoru seemed the same as always, if not a bit more mellowed out. It was Suguru you mainly worried for. Each time he returned, he looked worse and worse. Darker circles. Eyes filled with exhaustion. 

You pull him aside eventually, asking if anything is going on, asking if he's okay, asking if he wants to talk. As sincerely as you can, you tell him that you're here for him. He at least attempts to smile at that. When you press, he shakes his head. 

"It's nothing," you both know he's lying, "it's just....it's nice to see that there is one exception." 

A little while after that, they stop coming entirely. You notice, but you aren't able to focus on it. School gets harder, you're cutting back your work to focus on it. You don't even recognize Satoru at first when he walks in nearly a year later. 

He's different. So much taller. Despite being a few years younger than you...he doesn't feel like a kid anymore. An easygoing smile is pulled on his face when he sees you, giving a lazy wave. You return it, though a bit hesitant. He talks to you as though no time has passed at all, asking what you made for him this time. He talks fast. His voice is too laid back. Too casual. Like he's avoiding something. You think you know what. 

"Where's Suguru?" you ask when you glance behind Satoru for the third time, "I haven't seen him around lately." 

He freezes, like he's been dreading that question ever since he came in. Finally, he shrugs, making a noncommital hum. His sunglasses obscure his eyes but it isn't enough to hide how cold he suddenly turned. Satoru seems to realize that too. His answer is pulled by reluctance. 

"We don't talk anymore." He doesn't say anything more. You don't need him to.

When he pulls out his wallet, you tell him it's on the house. He looks at you then. His mouth opens, searching for the right words. He waits too long. His mask slips back into place. 

Gojo grins at you, painfully fake. 

"Take care of yourself, will ya?" 

You never see him again after that. You know it's your fault. 

You think about them every so often when you can, Suguru especially. He rests in the back of your mind like an old piece of furniture you can't bring yourself to throw out. Suguru sometimes haunts your dreams with his darkened eyes and the pure brokenness on his face. For some reason, you think you failed him somehow. You felt like you could have done more. Maybe, if you'd tried harder to reach out, things would have been different. Two boys wouldn't be utterly heartbroken. 

Years pass by. You quit working at the cafe. You graduate college. You move cities. You get a job. Eventually, you settle into a nice apartment. You forget all about your days in that quaint little restaurant, your attention hogged by a couple of annoying high schoolers. You don't think about Satoru for years. You don't think about Suguru for years. 

Until one day, when he calls your name in the street. 

He was bigger now, towering over you with broad shoulders. His hair was longer, darker too, less of a green, more black. He's ditched his school uniform, trading it for a more casual outfit. It's his face that makes you hesitate before you use your voice, that same smile, physically at least. He looks the same, but then he doesn't. 

"...Suguru?" It's a question because you're still not sure. 

He smiles wider. 

"Long time, huh?" 

Somehow, your reunion culminates in a restaurant. You still feel out of it, somehow, like you're watching yourself in an out-of-body experience. Between the food and him, you're not sure if you can even believe it. 

He tells you he heads a temple now. A pious man. You shouldn't be surprised, considering his education, but you never knew he was so invested in religion. The two of you converse about other meaningless things. The conversation becomes less stilted. More sincere. You learned your lesson from last time. You don't bring up Satoru unless he does. 

Much to your disappointment, he doesn't. 

Compared to yours, his life is so crazy. Not just with the temple. Suguru tells you he's a father now too. Adopted two little girls. He's barely 22. You can barely hold your disbelief, shaking your head as you take another sip of your coffee. 

"In any case," you say when the conversation draws to a lull, "I'm just really glad you're happy, Suguru. You deserve it." 

When Suguru gives you a questioning look, you continue. 

"The last time we saw each other, you looked miserable." 

 His eyes widen in realization before a laugh bubbles out of his throat. Deep, rich like chocolate. 

"Back then, I was going through a lot." He sighs. "I was figuring out what I wanted. It...it was a tough time for me." 

You nod along, hoping you aren't forcing him to pry. However, the Suguru you're faced with now doesn't seem like that type of person anymore. He won't give if you press. He talks on his own terms. You never once thought of him as a pushover, but he's less open now. Perhaps it's because he's no longer a child. 

Suguru smiles then, a little more sincere than his first. 

"You know...I've always wanted to thank you." 

You tilt your head. "What for?" 

He plays with his empty cup like he's searching for the answer himself. "You gave me hope when no one else did. Everyone was so quick to tell me if I was wrong or right."

He leans back on his chair, eyes drifting towards the ceiling, "Other humans, they're always so enraptured by their own lives. You were the only person who reached out. At least, who cared enough to." 

The guilt from years ago slipped back into your throat. So he had been suffering. You should have done more. He was just a kid. They both had been. You could have done something. Maybe you could have saved a little more.

His hand finds yours on the table. They're rough, calloused. You can feel the scars. He squeezes your fingers. 

"Thank you," he murmurs, "For being an exception." 

You squeeze back. 

It's a tumultuous friendship, at first. It's much like a burn. Sensitive, it hurts at first. The wound is too fresh. Eventually, dead skin and memories fade away. You find yourself texting him. Once a week. Maybe a little more, if you get brave enough. 

Once, he sends you a picture of a white cat lounging in a sunbeam.

looks like Satoru, he types. 

(You stare at the caption for a long longer than necessary.)

It does, you send back.

You visit his temple once. He invited you, actually. A free tour, he had joked. It was beautiful. A large expansive garden filled with all types of flowers. The courtyard felt like it stretched for miles. That was just the outskirts of the temple. The building was something else entirely. A large ceiling. Expansive walls. White pillars that keep going higher and higher and higher. 

You notice his followers are everywhere. Most carry the same smile on their face. Bright, happy, cheery, but too strained. Like it's a job for them. It feels weird to say, but he fits nicely here. You think that because this wasn't the place you thought Suguru would end up. He dons the traditional clothing perfectly. Like they were made for him. They probably were, considering how high his reputation was. 

If he hadn't had the same face, the same hair color. You wouldn't have recognized him at all. He's managed to replace every single thing in his life with something new. It doesn't go unnoticed by you that you're the only thing he keeps from the past. A momento of sorts. You're a keepsake, for him. You don't mind the symbolism. You've always been easily flattered. 

You just failed to realize that not all of his feelings had changed. 

It was in front of your house. After, yet another visit to the temple (much at Suguru's insistence), he'd offered to walk you home. You would have declined if it wasn't so dark out. In the end, you accept his offer. 

"The girls have come to like you," Suguru says after a lull of pleasant silence. When you glance at him, you find his eyes on you. 

"Have they?" you prod. 

In all honestly, you didn't think they liked you at all at first. You don't have that much experience with young children, but you found it odd how unnerved Nanako and Mimiko seemed to get around you, practically hiding behind their father's figure, peeking out with untrusting eyes. Suguru had to gently coax them out with soft words, insisting that you were a close friend of his, you were 'different'. 

"Yes, they talk about you all the time," he continues, rolling his eyes in affection, "Mimiko especially gets very animated." 

Your heart skips a beat at his answer. You never felt one way or the other about children, but it felt nice when two little girls felt so highly about you. Those two especially. 

"It must be from all the sweets I bribed them with," you say, jokingly, "Please tell me I didn't cause them any stomach aches." 

He laughs, light and pretty. 

"It's not that," he responds, "it's because of you, mostly. You're different from the others."

You smile, but it's half-hearted, an attempt more than anything. It takes you a while for you to work up for the question. For some reason, you feel a bit nervous, like you're stepping on something you shouldn't be. 

"Different," you start, "you keep saying that. What does that mean? What am I different from?" 

He stops, just at the entrance of your flat. Suguru's fingers drum on his pants. You stare at him. He stares right back. 

"You are different, in so many different ways," he says, though it feels as though he's speaking to himself, rather than you. 

He takes a step forward. Tiny, he barely even moved. And yet, the distance between the two of you has vanished completely. 

"You've always been. Different from everyone else. The only one." You can't tell if he cut himself off, or if there was truly nothing else to say. 

It was barely a kiss. His lips brushed against yours, barely touching. Soft, like he cherished you the most out of all his possessions. The gentleness of it all is enough for you to freeze. 

Then his hand curls around your waist, and you jolt back into your body. 

You splay your hands on his chest, pushing him away until you have enough momentum to step back. His loose hold on you falls away. You can't look at him, even when you can feel his stare burn into you. 

"Suguru," you say, because you're mind is still running to catch up to your heart, "I-we-" 

Your name being called stops your babbling. You don't think he saw, god you hoped he hadn't. When you look over, he's smiling, so you don't think he did. He was never one to hide his feelings. Still, you step away from Suguru, ignoring how stiff the man had become. 

"Hey," you say, mostly out of relief because you couldn't deal with this anymore. When he wraps you into a hug and a chaste kiss, you wordlessly accept. Suguru's gaze on your back only gets stronger. 

"Who's this?" he asks, gesturing at Suguru. Your smile falters as you glance at Suguru. His face was blank. He wasn't even smiling anymore as he continued to stare at your man. 

"A friend," you say before Suguru can make this already worse, "and he was just leaving." 

"Oh," he says, before smiling down at you. Delightfully oblivious. 

"We'll talk later, okay Suguru?" You send Suguru a hurried smile before dragging him into your shared flat. 

You lock the door behind you. He says something just then, you laugh, trying so hard not to sense Suguru's presence through the door. You don't think he leaves. Not for a good long while. 

You don't speak to Suguru, after that. 

You wince whenever you see his name through your contact list now, as though even seeing a remnant of him is painful. You don't go to the temple anymore. Your communication with the girls turns nonexistent. 

Suguru hasn't said anything to you either. The line has grown dead both ways. 

You feel guilty, even though you know it wasn't your fault, you still can't help but wonder if you could have done something different. Did you do something that made him think you were interested? You probably had, knowing how unaware you could be, sometimes. You couldn't help but feel ecstatic when the two of you reconnected again. You'd been so excited for Suguru, happy for him because he'd finally found his way. You didn't know he still liked you after all these years. It was a schoolyard crush, at least, it was supposed to be.

Looking back, you didn't think you'd even told Suguru that you were already seeing someone. One blunder after a blunder. 

It must have been embarrassing for him, you can't help but think. Even when he was younger, Suguru had always held onto his pride dearly. You don't know if your friendship could ever be the same after this, but you'd like to extend the olive branch. If he'd take it. 

You tell your boyfriend about the incident eventually. You know it's not your fault, but you still feel like it is. He takes it well, once you explain, looking at you sweetly. 

"I could tell something was going on between you and him," he says, "but thanks for telling me." 

"You aren't mad?" you ask, half-afraid of the answer. 

"At you? Course not. Him, however"- he made a swing motion with his fist "-he does something like that again and I'll punch his lights out." 

You laugh, knowing it's a joke, giving him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He beams. 

It takes a week of radio silence to forget about the mishap. You're humming a song you've forgotten the lyrics to when you arrive at your apartment. Your boyfriend said that he was coming home early tonight. You'd planned something quiet for the evening. A movie, cheap drinks. 

"Welcome home." Suguru grins. You freeze. 

He sits on the couch, splayed out like he belonged there. He's not wearing his priest garment, now garbed with a simple shirt and jeans. It takes a minute for you to figure out what you're looking at. Slowly, you close the door behind you. 

"Hey," you say, hoping your tone doesn't indicate just off-put by this encounter you are.

Suguru doesn't seem to mind your reluctance. 

"He let me in." Suguru points to somewhere behind you. Oh, your boyfriend is probably in the bathroom. "He was such a nice man. You were very lucky." 

"Thank you," you find yourself saying, "I am." 

His smile grows bigger, and you wonder if there's a joke you aren't let in on. Like he's saying something that's going right above your head. 

When you take a glance behind you, your partner is nowhere to be seen. It makes you wonder if you should say something to Suguru right now. Mend the bridge that's shattered between you. Currently, he seemed to be in a good mood. 

"Suguru," you start, taking a tiny step forward. You twiddle with your fingers. 

"Listen, I'm really sorry for how things went the last time we met. I just-" He hushes you, putting a finger to his lips. 

"You shouldn't air out your affairs in front of him like that," he tells you, "you might hurt his feelings." 

What? You look behind you again. Nothing. 

Suguru laughs. It sounds off. Wordlessly, he points behind you again but angles his finger a tiny bit higher. You follow his direction. 

Immediately, you wish you hadn't. 

He's in pieces, scattered all over the ceiling. A hand is above the door, a leg is above the kitchen. It's like his appendages were chopped before being glued onto the ceiling. There's no blood, just body parts. 

The worst part was that he was still alive. His head was still attached to his torso, the only part of him that was still intact. His mouth was open, his eyes were wide, and it took you a second that he was trying to tell you something. Repeating a word over and over. 

Run. 

Your hand covers your mouth as you continue to stare up at him. What was left of him. You think your knees are threatening to give before Suguru's holding you up. You can feel him lead you towards the couch, sitting you down in the plush mattress. He curls an arm around you, letting out a sigh.

"I meant what I said." Suguru adjusts your hair. "He was such a nice man, for a monkey anyway."

It doesn't occur to you that Suguru had done this until he speaks. You'd known Suguru said he performed exorcisms in his temple. You didn't-you couldn't-

"You?" you can barely push the wavering words out, "you-how-Suguru-" 

He hushes you, drawing you closer to his body. You're completely dwarfed by him as he rests his head on your neck, breathing in your scent. You are barely coherent, sucking in air as your voice dissolves into sobs. 

"I would have liked it if things hadn't turned out this way," he sighs, "but I don't believe it would have turned out any differently." 

His tone is almost pitying. 

"You may be the exception, but you are still one of them. Unaware of the true hierarchy." Suguru hums. 

"That's alright. It wasn't your fault. You were simply born this way," he continues, "I don't mind teaching you." 

You wiggle, trying your hardest to get out of his grip. Suguru only clicks his tongue. A harsh grip on your waist is enough to still you. You can't understand what's going on, maybe you never will, but you know one thing. You let a monster back into your life. Geto Suguru was not the same person you knew when you were younger. 

Or perhaps, he was always this way. He was just better at hiding it, back then. 

"I'm sorry," you finally let out, "Suguru, I'm-I'm so so sorry. I'll do whatever-whatever you want. Anything just please please please-" 

"I'm afraid there's nothing I can do for him," Suguru doesn't sound too apologetic, "though, I could put him out of his pain. Would you like that?" 

You didn't need him to elaborate. Suguru would kill him. Or perhaps he was already dead. His moving eyes, his twitching lips, were all just muscle memory. The last of his brain synapses. There was no science, no magic, that could bring him back from this. 

And maybe, that tiny selfish part of you wanted to stop seeing his mangled body. 

You nod and you can feel Suguru's grin. He snaps his fingers. The thing disappears, vanishes into mist. 

"All gone!" Suguru declares. "There. Isn't that better?" 

You wince when he touches your face, brushing away the tears. You're too scared to do anything more. You don't fight when he kisses your neck. You don't fight when he kisses your jaw. You don't fight when he kisses your lips. 

It's with the same gentleness as the last time he'd kissed you, right outside of your apartment. Soft, warm, loving. 

You start sobbing then. Ugly, heaving, heartbroken. He takes it in stride, humming as he pushes your body down until your back is pressed on the couch. His lips brush your damp cheek. 

"There's no need to be afraid." Through your tears, you can see him smiling down at you. "The worst has passed. I'll take care of you from now on." 

The worst part about all of this is how honest he sounds. Like he truly believes he's doing this for your good. It makes you wonder who the delusional one is. Him or you. 

He's tuts in sympathy as you lay there, shivering underneath him.

"You must be so confused, poor thing." He tilts his head, the back of his fingers stroking your cheeks. "I should explain, shouldn't I? Unfortunately, I'm more interested in other things right now."

You must look horrible, but Suguru doesn't seem to mind, bending down, melding your lips with his. He sighs, like he'd waited eons for this. You stiffen when you feel his hands play with the band of your skirt. As if he can feel your beginnings of struggle, he pulls back, staring you down. Brown, almost black, eyes peer down at you. There's a hint of a warning curling on his lip. 

You still immediately. If he could do that, what could he do to you?

"None of that," he chides, and yet he's so painfully gentle about it, "be good." 

What was he? How did he do this? How could he? You want to ask them all but you can only get one out when you lift your head, getting your voice to work. 

"Why?" 

You don't know what you're asking. He clearly does. Another soft smile. You wish you could tear it off his face. 

"You were always the exception, even back then," He says quietly into the stale air of the apartment. His eyes drift and you wonder if he's remembering the you all those years ago, secretly passing pastries to him and Satoru, giggling at jokes only a highschooler could make. "The only one of the humans who didn't utterly disgust me." 

Fingers reach for the hem of your skirt, pushing it up your bare legs. 

"And it's natural, isn't it? To protect the exceptions, the rarities of the world," he says, "To keep them away from the impure." 

You start crying again. He patiently hushes you, kissing away your tears. This time, you don't bother putting up a fight. You just squeeze your eyes closed, flinching when he reaches to your inner thighs, feeling the cotton of your panties. His breath hitches. So does yours. 

He bypasses the cloth with two dexterous fingers. When he touches the skin, you flinch, trying to squeeze your thighs closed. It doesn't help. Suguru leans forward, you can feel his breath on your cheek as you shiver underneath him. He finds your clit, teasing it with a calloused thumb. You think you're mouthing it, even when you can't bring yourself to say it. Don't touch me don't touch me don't touch me. 

He doesn't listen. You don't know if he heard it or not. It didn't matter, either way. It wasn’t like he was planning to stop.

Despite how much you don’t want this, your body doesn’t listen. His touch is gentle, soothing on your pussy despite the horrors you’ve seen him do. It doesn’t take long for your cunt to adjust, dripping.

There’s a satisfied sigh above you and you know Suguru had felt it too.

One finger pushes into you. You gasp, curling your back, unprepared but Suguru’s giving a pleasant hum, easing you into it. Despite how humiliating this entire situation is, your one reprieve is being able to bury your head into his neck, keeping yourself there as he continues to have his way with your body. You can feel him kiss the crown of your head, an action that completely juxtapositions another finger entering your wet hole.

He’s gentle, but not slow. He fingerfucks you with earnestness, curling his fingers when your walls tighten around him. Your crying is interrupted by the reluctant moans and gasps every time he presses deeper into you, finding a spot that has you seeing stars behind your eyelids. You bit your lip, keeping the noises inward. He tuts at that.

“Don’t be shy,” he coos in your ear, “it’s okay to enjoy it. I want you to.”

As if to highlight his words, he gives another particularly intense push, you wince when you can hear the wet squelch of his fingers.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Suguru asks, “I could always be this nice with you.” You let out a squeak when his thumb presses against your clit, unable to keep it in. Suguru gives a breathy laugh.

His other hand starts to explore, reaching up to your button-up, flicking them off with a single-experienced hand. The bra you wore is barely seductive, but Suguru’s tracing the ends of it anyway, touching the fabric just by your skin before pushing the undergarment down.

Whether it’s from the air or his fingers fucking your pussy, your tits are already sensitive. You let out a breathy whine when Suguru grips on of them too hard, squeezing the fat in his large hands.

“So sweet for me.” You can hear the smile on his lips.

Everything becomes too much, and before you can think, your hand is shooting down, grabbing onto his wrist, squeezing as hard as you can, your nails digging into his skin. Your other is pushing against his shoulder. He barely seemed to even notice, holding you down with his weight, thrusting in his fingers all the way to the knuckle.

“Suguru I-” It’s supposed to be another plea for him to stop, but your weak voice calling out his name only seems to excite him further. His thumb dances on your swollen clit, his fingers never relenting until he’s pushing you higher and higher until you fall.

White hot electric pleasure snaps within you, forcing your body to jolt, as you curl up from the sofa. You think he’s saying something, words of comfort as though he could be any crueler, but you’re not listening. You came so hard you almost forget where you are, who you’re with. You can feel Suguru watching until you fall against the cushion again, utterly spent. Your grip slackens against his wrist, before falling away completely.

“See? Didn’t I say I’ll take care of you?” You don't even have the energy to glare at him.

He’s giving another laugh, kissing your cheek before he’s leaning back. His fingers slip out of you, and then there’s a sucking sound. You can’t help it, blinking open your eyes. Suguru stares back at you, eyes half-mast, a pink tongue flicking out to lick at his fingers before he puts them in his mouth completely, swallowing down the evidence of your orgasm. A lewd moan escapes him, muffled. You once again wished you hadn’t looked.

You’re already expecting it, but you still flinch when you hear the zipper loud and clear. He moves his jeans low enough to pull out his cock. He’s already hard, a bead of precum right at the tip as he gives a few cursory pumps. He’s big, you blearily realize. Despite the mind-numbing orgasm he’d just given you, you doubt it’d be enough to even take him.

“It won’t fit,” you find yourself whispering.

Suguru just hums in acknowledgement, giving you a knowing look as he finishes tugging off your panties. The fabric slides off your shaking leg before dropping onto the carpeted floor.

It’s too late for a fight, but you’re rising anyway, pressing your hands against the cushions, trying to create some space. Suguru is quick to shut it down again, leaning back into you as he palms himself some more.

“You’ll be alright,” he assures but it doesn’t help the panic the fear in your soul, “I cherish you too much to break you.”

With little effort, he spreads your thighs. His cock rubs against you once, twice, before entering your throbbing pussy.

Already it’s too much. He’s thick, stretching out your walls, threatening to rip you in half. You close your eyes again, squeezing them shut as the pain starts to edge a little too close to bloody. Helpless, your hand finds his shoulder, not pushing but digging your nails into his shirt. He purrs when you grip him tighter, moving until he’s seated fully into you.

He stays like that, keeping himself there as your walls squeeze him tighter. It’s almost a relief that it ended, but now, he’s taken everything.

“Look at me.”

His voice is rough, almost a rasp, an order. You find yourself obeying. Through your tears, you blink up at him, finding his gaze.

He stares down at you, a look of satisfaction in his eyes and you don’t think you are yours anymore.

He pulls back, your cunt tries to suck him back in, but he drags his cock out anyway until only his head is barely inside.

“Perfect,” Suguru murmurs as though it’s a secret not even you should hear, “absolutely perfect.”

You cry out when he pushes back in. It’s a gentle pace, slow and steady like he’s easing you into it. He’s being kind, you finally realize, a thought that makes your skin crawl. It’s so much worse than if he had been nasty. Harsh and biting with thrusts that would make your body sore and weak afterwards. If he was abusive, not caring about you, just his own pleasure. You wish Suguru was being mean, being cruel. At least then, you wouldn’t like it.

Despite the unexpected size, your body is adjusting. Pain ripples into reluctant pleasure, numbing your mind as his hips meet yours. It gets even worse when Suguru leans down, biting and sucking at your tits, enough for there to leave a mark. Something that will bruise and remind you of what he did.

“You don’t know how long I wanted this,” he’s saying somewhere above you but your head is swimming and you can’t focus where you want to, “how long I’ve wanted you like this.”

Suguru sits up again, grabbing one of your legs, hiking your hips up so his cock can go that much deeper inside of you. You babble something that you yourself can’t decipher. Suguru’s lips curl into another painfully soft smile.

“Ever since highschool,” he’s confessing like he’s a sinner and you’re his God but you know that isn’t true because what sort of god would be humiliated like this? “Remember that apron you wore?”

His hand reaches over, spreading over your pussy, stretching the fatty part of your cunt so he can have a better view of him disappearing inside of you.

“I always wondered what you’d look like wearing nothing but that on, spread out on the counter for me.”

He flicks your clit, and for the second time that day, you can feel yourself crashing. As though he can sense it, his thrusts shorten, grinding against your pussy and there’s a hand catching your chin, forcing you to look.

Suguru’s smile is gone, replaced by a snarl that promises to eat you alive. His eyes are blown wide, and he’s gritting his teeth, barely holding control by a hair.

“Come for me.”

You’re too far gone to do anything but listen.

You stutter in his grasp, arching your back, cumming with a breathy whine. It’s like a tide, pushing you out into sea, refusing to take you in. Unconsciously, the leg he holds tightens around his waist as you pulse around his cock.

He follows after, barely holding himself together, not when your cunt is milking him for all its’ worth. There’s a few particularly harsh thrusts before something warm and sticky fills your battered pussy before he's falling into you, pressing your body against the soft cushions.

You lay there, panting with him on top of you. Slowly, you come back to yourself, feeling your arms your legs. Your brain resets, and you’re suddenly remembering that you have a murderer’s cock inside of you.

Suguru’s face is buried in your neck. He gives a shaky kiss to your jaw; another on the corner of your lips. You can only stare at the ceiling, where the remnants of a body used to be.

"You know, the girls have always wanted a mother," Suguru's saying into your skin.

"I'm sure they will be very pleased with my choice."

i like my men long haired and deranged

obsessed with that face tops make when they accidentally discover a weak spot of yours or a kink of yours through something they did. that little surprised face and then the WICKED grin and then they say some shit like “oh? so you like this? yeah?” and then they do it again??? it gets to me every time on god

hey it's my first time requesting so idk if this is the correct way to do it but...

could I request dazai with a darling that always tries to outsmart him (but fails)

Thanks for the request!

Warning for Violence (Blood, Attempts to kill/immobilize), Sexual Content (Boners)

»»———————— ♡ ————————««      

♡ It really only makes you more adorable in his eyes. There you are, grumbling in a corner, hatching your plans, while Dazai watches you with a grin on his face. He knows about the few items you snatched and hid in your pillowcase. Sometimes he ignores them on purpose, so it's a surprise to see what you're up to. But if he does catch a glance, he usually figures out your plans. Sometimes he slips in some bobby pins or the one thing you miss so your plan can work, just to make things more exciting for the both of you before waiting for you to act on it.

♡ Some plans involve merely escaping, Dazai always waiting for you to poke your head out of the chosen door or window, waving and congratulating you for your attempt before stuffing you back inside. The real fun only begins when you start getting physical. Knocking him out, spiking his tea with the meds he provided, and "accidentally" left out in the open. He pretends to be out cold while your hands roam through his pockets, finding nothing but dust and candy while you search for a key. It's something Dazai could get used to, having you explore him so thoroughly, but you always realize much too quickly he's awake, as he can't help his pants from straining against his crotch. When you look up at his face, staring into his wide-open eyes, all he says is, "Oopsie! You got me!"

♡ Getting stabbed is a little annoying, admittedly, but seeing you struggle to actually kill him is all the more exciting for him. You hate him, you want to escape, but you're not a born-and-raised murderer. It doesn't come easily to you to actually slit his throat, but damn, you're so sexy, straddling him, threatening his life with the butterknife he saw you swipe from the breakfast table. His hands roam your legs, hips bucking and making you gasp as you tell him to stop fucking moving. Still, his grin only grows unnervingly wide by the time he reaches your wrists, grabbing them and flipping you over. Before you know it, Dazai has you pinned under him, blood trickling from a shallow cut in his cheeks while he asks if you're ready to die with him, considering how easily you decided to kill him. It awakens the psycho in him, making you wish you wouldn't have acted on this dumb idea.

♡ Even Dazai understands how frustrating it is when nothing ever works, so he occasionally lets you 'win'. It's more of a reward for good behavior or when it's your 'anniversary' with him, but he pretends to mess up, letting you slip from his grasp, counting to ten before pursuing you. It has led to some wonderful chases around town and even through parks and forests, there being no better feeling than finally catching up to you, throwing you against a wall, and through breathless gasps, kissing you until you both almost pass out. Nothing could ever describe the feeling of lifting you up into his arms and carrying you back to his hideout, knowing you are his and can never escape him, no matter how much you try and cry in his arms. It's liberating to know nothing can take you from him, no plan, and no one else, and once the door closes behind your two, he'll get to have fun punishing you like you deserve.

i think the hottest look you can give someone after they commit acts of unspeakable violence is approval. like don't get me wrong if there's lust there too that's great, but staring at someone with gore dripping down their chin and coating their hands to the wrists with undisguised appraisal and admiration. maybe giving them a little nod as if to say 'well done'. THAT'S what says "yeah we're gonna fuck nasty later".

Where’s My Language App? [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Title: Where’s My Language App? [Yandere Shigaraki x Reader]

Synopsis: You don’t know who he is. You don’t even know what he’s saying.

Just a short lil thing inspired by some recent posts from @stupid-sloot-headcanons​ on a darling with a language barrier.

Word Count: 1722

Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, English-speaking reader/language barrier

You don’t know who he is. You don’t know why he took you. You don’t even know what he’s saying. Not that he’s said all that much since you woke up in a dimly lit room, arms bound in front of you tightly with rope that has gone from itchy to uncomfortable and now bordering on painful as your circulation has waned.

It’s been… three days? Four? You’re not sure. There’s nothing to accurately measure time with. Only the comings and goings of the man who kidnapped you, which don’t seem marked by any particular time of day, give you any sense of time passing.

Keep reading

ok but can we talk about possession, praise and degradation all together? because being called his pretty little slut makes me melt every time <3

-ˏˋmineˊˎ

｡･:*˚:✧｡

genre ; nsfw / +18

warnings ; nsfw, smut, vaginal fingering, hair-pulling, edging / orgasm denial, unprotected sex, jealous / rough sex, degradation, swearing, established relationship.

taglist ; @normiewrites​ @kingtamakimurder​ @briswriting​(they helped me), @brattyquirks​

.+☼☾✯꧂

[osamu dazai x fem!reader]

request ; Do you think you can write something about Dark Era!Dazai or ADA!Dazai being jealous and how he would remind his S/O who they ‘belong to’ pretty please? Also can it be NSFW?

ok so i’ll admit, this was rushed, it’s sloppy and not as good as my others. i’m sorry.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

it wasn’t like dazai to be jealous.

he trusted you. he had shown the most vulnerable part of himself. white silky bandages covering his milky skin, soft brown curls shaping his face while a feeling of uneasiness overwhelm the weight in his stomach. those dark honey coloured eyes staring down at you with uncertainty while your soft fingers danced over his lithe form, slowly unravelling the material that covered his body ; hidden from the cruel world.

so why was he jealous now?

sounds of shuffling papers, the clack of keyboards and quiet chatter filled the agency. it sounded and smelt exactly like a usual workplace would, except if jealously had a smell, it would have a bitter aroma of burning chemicals.

your e/c glistened with joy as ranpo continued to ramble and boast about how “utterly amazing” he was. dazai watched from his desk, his chestnut eyes analytically observing every facial expression the pair of you made. 

dazai’s fingers twitched in annoyance as you giggled. dazai huffed softly and tried to focus back on his work, knowing that kunikida would yell at him about it…again.

“dazai-san?” atsushi’s meek voice sounded from beside him, dazai’ head turning slightly to face the grey-haired boy.

“hm?”

“if you don’t mind me asking…  why do you keep looking at ranpo-san and y/n-chan?” dazai’s eyes widened slightly. was he really that obvious?

“oh, no reason!” dazai quickly dismissed atsushi, giving him that bright smile he always did. “just interested in their conversation!”

“oh ok,” atsushi gave a small smile before quickly scurrying back off to his desk. dazai smirked as you briefly glanced at him, his eyes glistening with mischief. you turned back to ranpo as he whined your name, much to dazai’s displeasure.

the dull thud of dazai’s fingers hitting the oak wood table beneath him and the small melody he hummed did nothing to cure his everlasting boredom. the paperwork stared back at him, almost as if it was taunting him. he huffed, letting his eyes wander around the room until he felt his eyebrows raise at the sight he came across.

ranpo’s bright emerald eyes were staring directly at you, a smirk on his face as he watched you shake your head, a light pink blush warming your cheeks. Your hands reached up to cover your blush, a small shy smile tugging at your cheeks.

dazai felt his eye twitch, the feeling of jealousy swelling up in his stomach, boiling red and green while his lips tugged into a deep frown. deciding that he had enough of ranpo’s antics, dazai pushed himself up with his palms on the desk, walking over to you in long strides.

you shivered as you felt the warmth of dazai’s body pressed against your side, one arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him while a bittersweet smile stretched across dazai’s face. his fingers almost painfully dug into your side, making sure you knew that he was there.

“well what do you have here, m’lady?” he shamelessly winked at you, a groan leaving ranpo’s mouth at dazai’s antics. your heart lurched as you felt his fingers dig into your side, even more, his fake cheerful expression never wavering.

but, you knew better.

“we were just talking about stuff!“ you smiled up at dazai, making him look down at you curiously.   

”‘stuff’, hm?“ you nodded in response, hardly noticing how hard ranpo was staring at you. dazai did.

"dazaiii, do you know if we have any more snacks?” ranpo whined, interrupting dazai. “…besides y/n of course.”

ohohoh?

“I don’t know ranpo-san,” you almost shuddered at how vicious he sounded. “why don’t you go find out for once instead of leeching off everyone else, since you’re ‘so utterly great’?” 

the dark look covered over his eyes, his smile turning into the bitter smile that could make anyone quiver. he almost giggled when he saw you visibly swallow, either out of anticipation or nerves, you both didn’t know…

“dazai-san! get back to work, you idiot!”

Keep reading

Cockwarming your dom while he plays a video game with his friends, everytime he thrusts up into you his friends hear your squeaky choked moan through the mic and they all compliment how slutty and cute you sound being so nonchalantly used by your dom