Older Bf! Aizawa Fixing All Of My Daddy Issues. Yeeeea. Yeeeeeeeeeea.

“you don’t believe that sex is the most intimate thing that two can do together?” you repeat sukuna’s previous words with a raised eyebrow, skepticism lacing every word you spoke.

“i had concubines before i was devoted to you. do you really think i see intercourse as something significant?” he doesn’t even spare you a glance, all four of his eyes focused on carefully peeling the fruits resting in the bowl in front of him (mangoes, to be specific. a special order he put in with uraume for you). your eyes narrow at his words.

“so you don’t see intercourse with me as something significant?” that earns you a roll of his eyes.

“i don’t recall those words leaving my lips, woman.” he glances at you with a bored look, already much too used to your antics and the nonsensical conclusions you often pulled from his words (“it’s called reading in between the lines, ryo.” you had insisted. he chose not to debate you on it).

he sighs when you go silent, seemingly waiting for an explanation from him that would fix the small pout gracing your lips. he would’ve let you sulk if you were anybody else, but you weren’t.

“i realize the significance humans place on it now that i am yours, but i partook in the act purely for pleasure before you. it was simply to fulfill my fleshly desires.” he doesn’t need to look at you to know that the frown on your face still hasn’t faltered. in fact, the displeased look on your face probably only deepened upon the mention of him being intimate with other women.

“human customs are foolish, that will never change.” his hand lifts to your lips, a cube of mango held delicately between his fingers. he continues speaking only after feeding you the fruit.

“but if my stubborn little wife sees it as something of importance, then it shall be so.” he says the last part with a sense of finality, as if it was a part of his life that he accepted a long, long time ago.

you contemplate his words for a moment, your posture easing against the lavish pillows of your shared bed. you stall on swallowing the piece of fruit on your tongue, considering a question in that ever curious mind of yours.

“what’s significant to you, ryo?”

he pauses for a brief moment but doesn’t answer, simply bringing another piece of fruit up to your lips (whether the action was out of care or to keep your mouth occupied was unclear).

his lack of an answer was as good of an answer as any, though.

this was significant to him. the way he cut and fed you soft fruit with hands that had slaughtered armies, handling you as if you were made of fine china. never yelling, never arguing.

the king of curses devoted himself to you because deep in his heart he acknowledged his subservience to you.

that is what’s significant to him.

➺ wolf!suguru x lamb!reader x serpent!satoru

cw: suggestive, mouth inspection (you like their mouth), suguru wears a muzzle, teasing, gagging, spit, blood (dw it's only a tiny bit & he kisses it better :>) , biting, etc ..

the wolf!suguru and serpent!satoru brainworms are backkk :3

serpent!satoru wraps himself around you, holding you in his strong limbs, cool glistening scales press into your soft delicate skin, sure to be leaving little imprints for you to find later. his forked tongue peaks out from between his glossed lips as he sniffs around — you smell so sweet. his split tongue catches your attention, and like the naive little lamb you are disguised as, carefully, curiously, you bring your fingers to it. holding the warm wet flesh of his tongue between your fingers, just feeling it; it's soft. satoru grins evilly; you're so trusting, so daring as you play with his tongue and putting your little fingers in the serpents mouth. teasingly, satoru wraps his tongue around them, trapping your fingers in a tight hold. hugging them tightly with his tongue, until your eyes finally meet his like he's been wanting. he releases them with a satisfied glint in his eyes as you move your fingers along the textured surface of it, inching closer to his glossed lips, he says nothing as you do. you're entranced, your fingers drag higher and higher along his tongue, drawing teasing shapes on the way (he thinks he recognizes them as characters that spell out your name but that could just be his mind playing silly tricks.) you trace the shape of his sharp fangs, pressing ever so lightly against the sharp ends. it's not enough to break skin only enough to sting a little. when you pull away to look him, pulled from your own world by that pleasant sting at your fingertip you find that serpent!satoru's eyes are already on you, looking throughly entertained by all this, perhaps a little bashful as well if you look hard enough. a soft glowing pink at the tips of his ears, you aren't alone in enjoying this.

wolf!suguru is wearing a muzzle. you had insisted. his remarks the last time around having stuck with you a little more than you could have anticipated. so here you are, little lamb back in the wolves lap with a flimsy contraption made of metal and leather restricting his jaw from opening in full (or rather that that's the intended purpose) your drum your fingers against his chest, playfully. teasingly. his threatening teasing remarks land a lot softer with his jaw securely bound. your nails clink against the metal softly, the sound hitting your ears like your favourite song, there's a smug little smile on your lips and your eyes all too self satisfied as you look back into his. while still holding your gaze, you slip your two of your fingers through the small space between the metal bars of his muzzle, tracing over the shape of his soft lips. you press the tips at the centre to pry them apart, your two fingers glide across the surface of his sharp teeth and along the inside of his lips. suguru's jaw is locked, not allowing you further access into his mouth. suguru's eyes follow each of your movements. waiting, patient. hoping to see how far you will take this. you look up into his eyes, a little pout on your pretty lips, wordlessly pleading — he never says no when you do. loosening his jaw a little for you to slip into his mouth. you follow the curves of his teeth, and venture further into his warm mouth, pressing down against tongue. the wetness of it making your fingers slip further in he nearly gags. although your movements are limited by the metal against his face, you do your best to reach further into his mouth. wanting to feel his throat tighten around your fingers once more, to see another line of drool escape his lips, to hear the little sound you would've never guessed would come from the wolf. straining your fingers against the metal, reaching, you're about to do it again when his teeth come down on your fingers, biting into the soft skin enough for only a few crimson droplets to land on his waiting tongue. you gasp at that (more in shock than pain) pulling them away quickly, suguru catch's you before you get far, holding your wrist in place, keeping your fingers on his lips and your body secured in his lap. the metal you strain your fingers against begins to burn. suguru licks the blood still oozing from where he pieced your skin, kissing gently the little cut for good measure. his sharp purple eyes meet your now glossy meek gaze, the sight bringing that hungry grin to his lips. some leather and metal wont protect you from him if he did wanna bite. oh the little lamb isn't so self satisfied now.

now playing…

bring me to life by evanescence

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader

the official prequel to this oneshot!!! while it is in the same au, this one (and the other one) can def be read as standalones!!!! ^.^

cw’s!!: descriptions of violence (bashing someone’s skull in, knocking someone’s teeth out), gn! reader, no use of y/n, delusional sugu!!! (the best sugu imo :3), and i think that’s it!!!! ^^

wc: 1.2k :))

one more meeting. one more meeting and you’d finally be done with all of the infuriating hours spent in and out of various psychiatrists offices. one more meeting and then you could go back to your cell and fuck off like you knew the nurses wanted you to (you weren’t stupid, you saw the way the nurses glanced at you through their peripherals. it’s not like it wasn’t for good reason). one more meeting and then you could just choose whichever therapist you vaguely remembered the name of (probably the irritatingly serene one. she was more than willing to talk about herself when you refused to answer any of her questions and she seemed tougher than the others, like she wouldn’t crumble under a few threats from you.)

there were four security guards surrounding you while you walked. it was like a big, blaring alarm. “do not come close.” (as if the loud metal clanking of your restraints and the vibrant red of your jumpsuit wasn’t enough to signify that already).

three of the guards fell back when you made it to the door. the last office was in a strange spot, past all of the cells and a long hallway, all the way in the back of the institution. there was a plaque outside of this door, as if someone important was sitting inside waiting for you (you almost laughed at the thought. flesh can be cut and bones can be broken, can’t they? your status can’t save you from violence).

you barely got to skim over the name on the plaque before the door was open and you were unceremoniously shoved through it, your lips immediately parting to shoot a half-formed threat towards the guard behind you (probably something about bashing his skull in, you didn’t really premeditate your threats before dishing them out)… until you were interrupted.

“now now, is that any way to treat my patient?” the voice that cut in was deep. smooth and warm but not pleasantly so (not like a fireplace or a summers day, but like heated metal running along your skin. so hot that you don’t even register the pain until you’re already burned). there’s a hand on your shoulder before you even realize, the deep voice closer than before. you resist the urge to shudder at the touch.

“why don’t you go sit, hm? i can’t imagine those heavy restraints are comfortable to hold up like that.” you only respond by shouldering his hand off of you and sending the security guard a sharp glare, the metal of your restraints loud when you settle yourself in the chair in front of a large oak desk. you felt like you were at a business meeting rather than a preliminary therapy session.

“i’ll handle it from here.” is all the man says before the last security guard leaves the room. you don’t bother to look at him as he settles himself in the chair across from you.

it’s quiet for a long moment, the only sounds in the room being the soft shuffle of the papers he’s looking through and the ticking of the clock on the wall (god how you wished you could knock it off the wall. it seemed to be getting louder with every incessant tick). you were starting to wonder if he was planning on talking at all (you could only hope. you’d much prefer to sit in silence rather than watch yet another doctor desperately try to get you to answer their questions). your hopes were dashed as soon as they appeared.

“i apologize for the delay, that was rude of me. it’s just been quite a while since i last took a patient, i’m rusty with the procedures.” his voice finally cuts through the silence. you don’t say anything, you don’t even glance up at him. interesting.

“i’m sure you saw my name outside, but it feels rude not to introduce myself anyway. i’m dr. geto, the leading psychiatrist of this institution.” that catches your attention. your eyes are already narrowed in annoyance when you look at him, your brows only furrowing more when you took in his appearance. he was pretty. irritatingly so. you don’t doubt he had every nurse wrapped around his finger just because of that fact.

“you’re the leading psychiatrist? so what, is this some sort of last ditch effort to fix me?” you question, your sharp gaze continuing to watch him through your lashes. you hated how smug his expression was, how those purple eyes seemed to dissect you the moment they had a chance, how he smiled at your cynicism.

“if that’s how you want to think about it, then yes. though i would say that’s quite a pessimistic line of thinking, no?” you don’t say anything, so he continues. “i was the one who requested to see you. i stopped taking patients when i got promoted to this position, but you…” he pauses, considering his words. “your case interested me.” you scoff.

you can tell he’s waiting for you to say something, watching you with that same unsettling smile. you’re caught in a strange sort of staring contest with him, but it only lasts until he says your name.

and that. that’s what makes you snap.

it was nothing more than a soft utterance, something to call your attention back to him… but the way he said it, the way the syllables dripped from his lips like something so nauseatingly sweet while he held that agitating fucking smile on his face… you were convinced he was lucifer himself.

“if you keep smiling at me like that i will knock all of your fucking teeth out, do you understand me?” you lean forward in your seat when he doesn’t respond immediately, your restraints clanking with the movement.

“do you understand me?” you repeat. you’re not loud with your words, not at all. you’re deadly quiet, eyes wide and staring right at him. he manages to school his expression quickly, but you’re perceptive. you catch the flicker of surprise on his face.

he swallows before he speaks, his adam’s apple bobbing slightly with the action (you briefly wonder what it would feel like to cut through it). “… i understand.” his volume matches yours but he can’t hide the slight breathiness in his voice.

his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he’s almost sure that you can hear it just as clearly as he can (he wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case, at least. he wouldn’t be surprised if you could read his thoughts with the way you were looking at him).

he briefly wondered if you were something divine, something sent down to punish him by seeing right through his facade. something that could see that he deserved to be in those restraints just as much as you did. the thought sends a shiver through him and he averts his gaze (which is only confirmation to him. why else would he be so distraught if not for some sort of divine intervention?)

you both make your own decisions when you’re escorted out of his office a few minutes later.

anyone but him is what you decide.

and he decides that he’s yours.

you know when a butch fucks you so well you just start whimpering “it’s yours Daddy, all yours, you own it” and other embarrassingly pathetic things? need to be fucked like that right this second or i may die

having a conversation with satoru while you’re both on your lunch break. you’re making jokes and going over useless gossip, his eyes fixed on you behind his blindfold.

suddenly you pause, sending a small, knowing smile his way. “my eyes are up here, satoru.” you say simply, looking back down at your food to hide the way you were trying your best to stifle a snort at his sudden silence.

your efforts to hide your laughter were useless when he leaned over the table with his brows raised.

“how’d you know?” you’re practically clutching your stomach with how intense your laughter had gotten at this point. the urgency behind his words was so genuine.

to this day satoru remains convinced that you have a secret cursed technique he doesn’t know about. you make no efforts to convince him otherwise.

alr chat SO. i’m abt to hit 700 (insane btw!!!!!) and i said back when i hit 500 that i would do smth for it and then i never did!!! ssssoooooooo im gonna give y’all a poll so u can vote on a fandom!!!!! it may be a longer fic or a few drabbles or even smaus BUTTTT i’m just trying to establish the fandom for now :333

♥︎: fluff ♡: angst ☆: suggestive ★: smut

♥︎ random bf texts!! (smau)

chat i got my tongue pierced and all i can think abt is choso

not even like him eating u out or u sucking his dick with the piercing in!! just messy make out sessions a couple days after he gets it pierced. he’s all drooly and his tongue is still sore so it’s soooo easy to take control, basically shoving ur tongue down his throat and all he can do is whine at the feeling.

ugggh just choso w a tongue piercing. yum.

tw: weed, reader gets visible bruises.

He isnt sure how his apartment became your after club crash pad, but you're here, on his couch. drink and a little high. Tomura knows you're fucking stoned from the way you sink into the couch, legs spread, head tilted back. It almost looks like sleep has taken you, but you'll occasionally look his way, eyes barely open.

"So the guy tried to fuck me, right?" you continue your story. "Pulls down his pants and he's completely soft. Like, completely. Like trying to jam a marshmallow into a keyhole."

Tomura grimaces so hard that he can feel the wrinkles forming. "Jesus christ."

"That's what I said!" you say. "He was like 'baby, I can't get it up, we're in public, blah blah blah.' It was barely public, for the record. A bathroom stall with a door? Like, come on, dude. Man up and fuck me."

Tomura can't stand these stories. He also thinks about them when he watches porn.

"Can't believe that shit ass perfume works for you." He snubs the roach of the joint in the ashtray.

"You like it so much, don't you?" you coo. "Makes your fucking mouth water."

With a scoff, Tomura rolls his eyes away from you. "I have dry mouth."

"Hey," you glance over to him with half closed eyes and a cocked smile. "Do you wanna do me a favor?"

Tomura is swimming on the moment. God, he hates how you know you're hot, how you sway that pretty body specifically for male attention.

"No."

"Aw," you say. "But it's something you'll really like."

With just a hooked finger, you drag your top down, all the way until they pop free. Jewelry catches the light. He knew your tits were pierced - you never wear a bra - but seeing them, pretty gemstones against your skin, makes his body go rigid.

"Suck on then?" It's not a request. It's an order.

Tomura thinks he's smoked too much pot. His lungs suddenly ache.

"Fuck off."

The fat of your tit jiggles when you flick at your jewelry bar.

"Fuck off. You're just horny because that guy couldn't fuck you."

But Tomura is already crawling towards you, staggering across the room, slotting himself into the space between your legs... Your ribs vibrate with a giggle as he desperately leans over, his chapped lips ghosting over your skin.

There's nothing soft enough on him, nothing worth touching you. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't be so fucking pathetic, and yet he presses his lips into you.

The metal is so warm in his mouth. He presses the flat of his tongue against it and breathes in, pulling on you gently.

"Not like you're a fucking baby." You pull him away by his hair, just far enough to give him a fucking look. "Suck'em like a whore."

His inexperience is showing. Tomura sucks until his teeth go hollow and your body rolls, bucking into him as your legs kick out. He toys with the bar clumsily, with his pointed tongue, wetting it with his tongue and testing anything for your approval.

"Yeah, fucking flick it. There you go." Your hand is shifting beneath him, working in jagged little circles. "Knew you didn't have dry mouth."

Oh, that pisses him off. Your smart ass attitude. He catches your skin between his teeth in defiance.

"Mm, fuck." Your back arches. "Yeah, use your teeth."

Up close, your perfume is less gummy bear and more complex. It's flirty, slightly floral, marked with the musk of your sweat.

"Fuck yeah. Mmm. Leave a hickey. Aa-- aaa--"

He does. Tomura will do anything you ask him to. He doesn't know where to put his hands; if he should be touching you or keeping himself away from you. Just as he starts to get a rhythm, you jank him back by his hair again. This time, your skin is glistening with his spit.

"I have another tit too," you direct his mouth to your neglected tit.

You're going to cum; Tomura can tell by the way you're whining and cooing and squeezing that fist in his hair. He can smell your arousal too, hear how your pussy clicks with its own wetness-

It's with a garbled, high sound that you come undone, feet sliding against the couch, torso twitching. Tomura pulls away when you push at his forehead, pulling in a breath he didn't know he needed.

"Shit." Tomura wipes the spit from his mouth.

"Hey." Your skin is blossoming with bruises. "Can you roll another blunt?"

That cuts through the haze of his arousal. He leans back onto his knees.

"Yeah. Sure. Fine. Whatever."

The rhythm of his heart just won't go down, not even as he rolls the paper and licks the edges. It's Spinner's weed, but he doesn't care about that right now, not when you're lounging like that, tits still out.

(He almost wishes that Spunner would come home and see you like this, with him.)

((He hopes Touya never comes home ever again. He'd see you like this and immediately flash that hot smile or whatever he does-)

"Tomu," you coo. "Wanna take a couple puffs and keep going?"

"What do you mean 'keep going?'"

Your knees fall apart, exposing your wet soaked panties, the cotton visibly damp-

"You can try to put that marshmallow in," you laugh. "If you're up for it."

i so badly wanna write the preliminary meeting that i mentioned in the yandere suguru thing…………. i just think it’ll be funnnn teehee ^^