I Feel Like He'd Be More Aware Of How Embarrassing The Babying Can Be But Still Won't Bother With Turning

i am a hater before anything BUT one of my biggest pet peeves is when ppl will post “ugh i hate this trope!! why do fanfic writers write this write smth different!!!” no!!!!! if u have such a problem w it write it yourself!!!!!!!!!!!

like authors write things for their own pleasure and joy, not for an audience…… learn how to write and write it urself if it bothers u so much!!!!

mdni!! ( ´ ▽ ` )

oughhh thinking abt choso sucking strap. oughhhhhh

cw’s: gn! reader (reader is afab), (very light) dacryphilia, mentions of drool/spit/gagging and uhhh i think that’s it!! ^^

he was a little confused by your proposition at first but he agreed quickly after you explained. if it was something that would make you feel good why would he say no?

“so it’s just… the same way you do it to me?” his voice is soft when he speaks, his hands lightly running over the skin of your thighs as if trying to ground himself just by touching you. he looks so small from this position, on his knees while not-so subtly eyeing the piece of silicone fixed to your pelvis. it was… strange. different. but he couldn’t bring himself to really mind it. if the way his cock was already twitching in his pants said anything, you would say he was just as excited as you were.

you nod in response, bringing a hand up to graze over his jaw. he looks up at you with the small touch, so attentive and hyperaware of every one of your actions. “take it as slow as you need, cho. i don’t want you to overwhelm yourself.” you reminded him gently. he had a habit of getting overexcited and — as endearing as it was — it usually ended with you having to force him to slow down so he could have a chance to recover. cute, but you were worried about him hurting himself in this specific scenario.

“i’ll be careful.” he reassured you, his voice a hoarse whisper as his eyes drifted back down to your strap-on. his movements were careful when he brought a hand up to wrap around the base of your cock, his eyes wide and watching your reactions as his tongue tentatively kitten-licked around the tip. the heady look you were giving him must’ve given him more confidence because soon enough he was wrapping his lips around the silicone of your dick, the tip tapping against the inside of his cheek while he practiced the shallow back and forth motion that had sent his eyes rolling to the back of his head whenever you did it to him.

you hadn’t even realized your hand had moved to rest at the top of his head until his eyes had met yours, snapping you out of the small daze you had fallen into. he looked so pretty, so desperate for your approval even when his mouth was filled with your cock. he made sure to keep his motions slow as he took you deeper and deeper, allowing his throat to adjust to the new intrusion. his hands unconsciously gripped at your thighs, the pads of his fingers creating small divots in the plush skin while he took you deep enough for the tip of his nose to kiss! against the bottom of your tummy.

he held that position, his eyes desperately searching yours for approval while his nose remained smushed against your pelvis. you moved your hand to push his bangs back, a soft groan leaving you when you saw the tears dotting his lashline. “doin’ so good, cho. look so pretty takin’ my dick down your throat.” you swore you could feel the way his throat constricted around the silicone when he let out a small whimper at your words, a breathy curse leaving your lips at the deep, almost shocking warmth that filled your stomach.

you almost whined when you saw him start to move again, your head falling back in an attempt to get away from the sinful view in front of you so you could catch your breath. you could feel everything if you focused hard enough. the tight warmth of his throat, the soft vibrations of his moans when you gripped at his hair, the way his throat tightened with every small gag and bob of his head.

“fuck my throat.” his hoarse little whisper cut through your thoughts, his hands holding an almost bruising grip on your thighs. you could only breathe out a small, dumb “huh?” before he repeated himself. “fuck my throat, please… wanna know how it feels when i do it to you.” his hands massaged your thigh like he was trying to persuade you to say yes (as if you’d ever say no to an offer like that).

you nodded eagerly as soon as his words registered in your dazed brain, your breath hitching when he started taking you down his throat again. you let him readjust before starting with slow, shallow thrusts. you had to get used to the new rhythm just as much as he had to get used to the new sensation, but the both of you got the hang of it quickly.

your moans were unrestrained when you started speeding up your movements, choso’s teary eyes and soft gags as he struggled to take you sending you practically hurdling towards the edge. “gonna cum, cho… gonna fill up your pretty throat with my cum.” your words were strained and desperate, your thrusts becoming more and more sloppy as that warmth in your stomach finally unraveled. you threw your head back in a silent scream as your hips pushed forward, your tip bumping against the back of choso’s throat. everything felt warm and deep and oh-so intense, your hips rhythmically spasming as you came down from your high.

you pulled out of your boyfriends throat, your lips forming a small o when you saw the trail of saliva that connected his lips to the silicone. your hand moved to cup his cheek, lightly guiding him to look at you. “you okay, cho? was i too rough?” your voice was hazy from your orgasm but your eyes studied him as intently as you could manage.

he nodded meekly, his hands folded in his lap and pressed against his aching cock.

poor baby… might as well return the favor, right?

now playing…

stay soft by mitski

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

cw’s!!: some angst and fem! reader (reader is referred to as a woman and uses she/her pronouns) :]

wc: 916 (my longest posted yet!!!)

imagining shigaraki who announces to the league that he found a temporary place to stay a few weeks after the base gets destroyed, answering zero questions as to how exactly he found a place for a group of villains to stay after they had seemingly exhausted all of their options (“someone owed me a favor” was all he had said. none of them believed him).

they’re all confused when they arrive at a relatively residential neighborhood. they’re even more confused when their boss walks up to the front door of a random house as if he’s done it a thousand times before (he has. he’d always crawl back to this doorstep, always looking a little small and wounded).

and — not to be repetitive — but imagine their shock when the sweetest looking woman opens the door. you. you’re all smiles and sugar, giving their boss a wide smile before greeting the rest of them and inviting them inside. they’re practically gawking at the way you dote on them as if they’re normal houseguests and not a group of strangely dressed villains.

the blonde girl and the two men in masks are the only ones that introduce themselves (himiko, jin, and ‘compress’. you recognized them from tomuras previous explanations. he thought they were all pains in their own right, you couldn’t bring yourself to agree). the others stay close by tomura, allowing him to guide them through the new environment (as if they had much of a choice). he hadn’t said a word since the nice woman opened the door, even ignoring spinners insistent, whispered questions.

tomura suddenly stops, gesturing to three doors. “we’re taking up these two rooms, the garage, and the living room.” he points to the last door in the hallway. “that’s the bathroom. figure it out amongst yourselves.” he explained flatly, making his way back to the main area of the house with nothing else said. they were left with more questions than when they had initially gotten there.

their boss had settled into a couch by the time they wandered back into the main area, slouched against an armrest with that blank look he wore whenever he was lost in thought. you had taken to the more talkative three, smiling softly as you answered their questions while offering them mugs of something warm (you couldn’t help the softened look in your eyes when you saw the brief shock in their expressions at the gesture).

it was quiet for a while after that. peaceful, even… until you dropped a mug while trying to tidy up your kitchen. it had been a while since the league had seen their boss suddenly so alert, no hesitation in his movements when he briskly made his way into the kitchen. they had braced themselves to hear yelling or some form of harshness. anything to express his displeasure towards the sudden interruption to his thoughts. only, that’s not what happened. at all, actually.

you were a little more frantic, murmuring soft apologies while crouched down and picking up the larger shards of ceramic. only the three at the table could see what was going on, but the quiet way everything was handled was enough for everyone to connect some dots. tomura hadn’t said anything, simply moving down to your level to help you pick up the bigger shards.

when he finally spoke, it was like witnessing a different person. ‘soft’ was an adjective the league wasn’t familiar with. they didn’t have the privilege of really knowing what that word meant… they understood it better now though, with the way their boss was reassuring you in a quiet voice. his words were scolding as per usual, (even you weren’t immune to his small lectures urging you to ‘be more careful’) but he said them with a lightness none of them had heard before.

and then you touched him and suddenly they understood (those who witnessed it, of course). the contact was brief, just a small, grateful squeeze to his shoulder. something so easily overlooked by the general population… but they knew their boss well. they knew the weight of the small gesture. it was so painfully normal, he didn’t even blink an eye at the small touch.

the three at the table — who usually had had so much to say — could only spare each other small, knowing glances. the others that had settled on the couch still looked expectant, as if waiting for the storm that was soon to come pouring down (they could’ve waited years, it was never going to happen).

the league stood at your house for two weeks after that, the interactions between you and the members short but sweet. tomura had bunked in the garage, walking into the house throughout the night with the weak excuse of having to use the bathroom.

they decided not to call him out on his lie.

you remained kind even as they were leaving, wishing them well and softly urging them to stay safe. only himiko noticed the look you and tomura shared as he walked past you. a secret something she was sure only the two of you knew the meaning of. she found herself foolishly hoping that the pretty lady who had taken care of them would be okay.

you found yourself foolishly hoping to see them again (in another life, maybe. things would be better then.)

now playing…

guilty pleasure!! by chappell roan

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

this concept took over my brain i fear…..

cw’s!!: porn with very little plot, not proofread + i was in a rush writing this so :p, pathetic gojo :))

ex bf! satoru who texted you begging to fuck

ex bf! satoru who’s only at your house right now because you (unfortunately) realized you needed him to cum

ex bf! satoru who (despite your protests) insists on fucking in missionary because ‘seeing your face will help him get off faster’

ex bf! satoru who’s usually so dominant and cocky in bed but is groveling the moment he’s inside of you

ex bf! satoru who whispers the sweetest words in your ear only for you to push his face away with a strained ‘shut up’

ex bf! satoru who leans in to kiss you only to catch your cheek or neck when you turn away from him

ex bf! satoru who can only whimper out ‘i love you’s when he gets close, silently begging you to return the words

ex bf! satoru who cums as soon as you finally pull him in for a kiss, whining a ‘thank you’ against your lips

ex bf! satoru who you want to kick out as soon as you’re done, but you can’t help but melt into his warmth. maybe one night wouldn’t hurt…

working so hard to get this out before my family wakes up wish me luck <///3

writing a lil smth smth abt choso sucking strap. u guys see the vision right.

DONE W THE FRIENDS LIST POST YAYYYYY

reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts

why is everyone big and circular. pls stop ur scarinf me….

love you, love you, love you.

yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader

my first ever dark content/yandere oneshot aaaaaa!!! plsss thoroughly go through the cw’s before reading ^^;

cw’s!!: non-consensual drugging, mentions of needles/syringes, medical malpractice, descriptions of violence (gutting, beating someone to death, etc.), mentions/romanticization of cannibalism, blood eating, medical abuse (???), gn! reader, no use of y/n, uhhhh freaky suguru. like he’s actually crazy (but so are u) and uhhh i think that’s it?? ^^;

wc: 1.3k (what.)

“how have you been feeling?” your therapists voice is soft, just barely loud enough for you to hear. it’s like he’s trying to grasp at any sense of normalcy, as if any of this was normal. your head feels like it’s filled with cotton when you move to look at him, a deadly look in your dazed, slow-blinking eyes.

he completely disregards your glare with nothing but a growing smirk, shifting to adjust your position on his lap. “i see you’ve taken well to the sedatives.” his cold hand grazes your bare arm as he speaks and you have to resist the urge to use all of the strength you have left to throw yourself onto the floor just to get away from him. you decided against it. you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that.

suguru’s a charming man. every nurse, therapist, and criminal in this hellhole of an institution knew that. maybe that’s why he clung to you like this. you saw through him, had threatened to knock his teeth out just because you found his smile unsettling in the preliminary meeting (“a convenient way to find your perfect fit!” is what one of the brochures had read).

a few weeks later he was your primary therapist. the only one allowed to see you for sessions and the only one able to prescribe what medicine you took.

this time it was a strong sedative administered by needle, only given to you the one day a week you saw him for your “sessions”. he seemed to enjoy this one, considering how he hadn’t switched the prescription in almost a month (though you were sure he was upping the dose every week, there was no other explanation for the way the syringe seemed to get more and more full every time you saw the nurses holding it).

it’s only now that he seemed to notice the narrow-eyed expression you were giving him. “aw, don’t look at me like that… it’s for my safety, angel. i can’t have you lashing out and hurting me, can i?” his palm rests on your cheek and as much as you will the muscles in your neck to jerk away from his touch, it still doesn’t work. only a small grunt leaves you and that sound only heightens the amusement in his eyes.

“m’gonna fuckin’ kill you…” you manage to strain out. you despise how weak your voice sounds. you despise the way his eyebrow quirks up in interest in response to your threat. you despise how his voice comes out a low, patronizing purr when he asks “oh, are you?” because he knows you will. he knows that if he lowers your dose you won’t hesitate to hunt him down. he’s seen your files, he knows.

you let out a shaky breath at his words, that deadly glare in your eyes never faltering as your head nods in response to his question (though he’d barely constitute it as a nod, more like a subtle twitch of your muscles). “m’gonna gut you… cut you alllll the way from your bellybutton to your fuckin’ throat…” you can feel the delirium from your medication settling in when you’re halfway through speaking, but that doesn’t stop you.

“how gruesome.” is all he hums, a deep, twisted glint of admiration in his gaze. “you’ve certainly grown more creative.” the pad of his thumb presses into your bottom lip as he speaks. he seems almost satisfied with your violent description, like you’d just given him the greatest gift he could possibly ask for (to him, it was).

he couldn’t help but feel touched by your words, how you planned something particularly torturous just to bring him as much pain as possible. the way you hurt people — at least before you were admitted — was concise and unmeditated. someone made you lose your temper so you hurt them, plain and simple as that. you were only able to plead insanity because of the way you “blacked out”, only noticing the soreness in your arms (and the brain matter in your hair) after you had beat a man to death.

so for you — a patient with uncontrollable violent outbursts — to plan something specific just for him? oh, he could feel the pleasant chill rolling down his spine. how would you do it, suguru wondered. would you steal a scalpel from the nurses or a knife from the kitchen? would the way you cut him open be clean — planned, even — or would you just hack at his skin until you were satisfied? he could almost imagine the way you’d pin him down (not like you had to, he’d let you see his insides if you asked politely enough) and run the cool metal over his abdomen before he felt the sharp contrast of the warmth of his blood trickling down his skin. he could only hope he would be alive long enough to see the crimson tainting the pretty skin of your hands, getting under your nails and sinking into the grooves of your palms, absorbing every drop of him.

suguru was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t notice the way you had squinted at his far away expression, a muscle in your jaw giving a small twitch. maybe if you…

suguru also didn’t notice the way you had managed to slowly pry your jaw open, the tip of his thumb now resting against the ridges of your bottom row of teeth. at least, he didn’t notice until you miraculously willed your jaw to snap shut, the metallic taste on your tongue bringing you a primal sense of satisfaction (you would’ve preferred to bite the the tip of his thumb clean off to teach him a lesson, but this would do).

and oh, you would’ve laughed in his face if you could when you heard that strangled little gasp leave his lips. you relished in the way he watched you with a dumbfounded look, his usually piercing eyes opened wide in surprise.

your victory was disturbingly short lived, though. his shock quickly turned into something almost giddy with the way his eyes seemed to light up like a child who was just handed their favorite toy. he forced his thumb deeper into your mouth, his head cocking to the side almost observantly. “how do i taste, angel? hm?” there’s a crazed look in his eyes. you feel like you’re getting dissected. “maybe you should eat me after you cut me open, yeah? i’d let you, you have my permission.” he’s all too eager to give you more ideas, more ways to torture him even after death.

his arm snakes around your middle so he can press a palm to your stomach. “i’d be with you forever… wouldn’t you like that, angel?” he murmurs lowly by your ear. you don’t have the strength to answer anymore, your eyes blinking slower… and slower…

he holds you tight as you slump against him, (the sedatives make you intensely drowsy… it doesn’t help that he had prescribed you double the recommended amount) making a mental note to up your dosage once again. he can’t risk you building up some sort of immunity, can he? if the force of your bite was any indication, he’d have to find a new medicine for you within the next month or two (not like it was any hassle on his end. if anything, he was excited to see your adorably pathetic attempts to brute force your way through the daze of a new drug).

he just had to keep you here with him… you’d learn to love it.

to love him.

just recorded a talk @ my moms church abt sexual immorality bc i have the NASSSSTIEST nanami idea (age gap, emotional infidelity, ANDDD a church setting meowwww)