Why Is Everyone Big And Circular. Pls Stop Ur Scarinf Me….

Pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader

Cw: Oral (M receiving) ,praise kink, mommy kink, dom/sub undertones, a little bit of infantilization, petnames (baby, sweet thing, little one, ect..) , mentions of penetration, established relationship, romance

Suguru would absolutely never let you give him head, but imagine a reality where he does cave in just this once.

You're lying down on your side between his legs, cheek smooshed against his thigh, gently lapping at the tip of his cock.

"Awh baby..." Comes a croon from the man above you, his hand resting on the other side of your face, stroking the fat of your cheek before moving to trace your jaw. His hold is gentle yet firm, like a mother wolf guarding her little cub.

"My little sweetheart...come on, i know you can do it"

"M-mhm.." A hjgh-pitched hum is all you grant him before you begin to take him into your mouth.

Suguru's hand wraps tighter around your neck from the sudden surge of sensations, the warmth and wetness of your mouth attacking his nerves all at once, and he rewards you with a low groan. He moves his hand to intertwine his fingers with your locks of hair before tightening his grip.

"A-ah g-go ahead..honey .."

You obey, putting your mouth to work, you suck him slowly, almost lazily. Taking particular interest in the veins that run along his length, tracing them before pull away with a little "pop!" And a shaky almost anxious exhale before beggining to cover his cock with gentle kisses.

Your boyfriend's eyes snap open at the loss of contact, he doesn't miss the apprehensiveness in your behavior, a sweet fond smile graces his features apon registering your affection, and he chuckles.

"Aww..I know, i know...are you nervous, sweet thing?"

You aggressively shake your head, and suguru is just so endeared , his precious little angel, so eager to please him, so set on making him happy. It's taking a lot of restrain to stop himself from scooping you up and kissing you breathless while you sink down on his dick.

But his baby has been begging him for this for so so long, and there's nothing suguru hates more than denying you.

He doesn't get to dwell on it for long, because this time his entire cock is quickly shoved into your mouth with enough force to hit the back of your throat and have you chock on it. You gag around his dick, the switching motion of your throat makes him throw his head back and moan loudly.

"Mmmhm...sweetie...y-you have t-to w-warn me first.."

He makes out what he can only assume is a muffled apology. His hand travels to the top of your head to pet you gently.

Reassurance.

You're back to work in no time, bobbing your head back and forth, your tongue teasing his tip so deliciously. You close your eyes in concentration, focused on pleasuring your man. And your efforts never go unnoticed by him.

"There you go...y-you're so good..such a good baby..."

The praise does nothing but make you needier, make you wish his pretty cock was inside you instead. Even if you knew Suguru wouldn't let you sleep without properly taking care of you, it doesn't make you long for it any less.

"M-momm-mhm.." Your adorable whining catches his attention, and his resolve almost, almost crumbles. But Suguru wants you to learn to finish what you started.

"Mommy's riii-ight here b-baby...I've gotchu.."

It wasn't typical of him to lose his composure during intimacy, then again he was never the one on the receiving end, if he isn't fucking you silly with the end goal of having you cover him in your slick, then he's on his knees tending to you. In other words, Suguru never lets you do this. And so you feel like it's up to you to make a good first impression, and who knows? Maybe he'll let you do this again. Although that remains a distant dream.

Suguru is approaching his peak rapidly. The hand in your hair moves back to its original position on your jaw and tightens around your neck once more. His grip tells you that he's in the middle of chasing his orgasm. And that only gives you more fuel. Your movement picks up the pace and you begin to suck him sloppily and messily, gone is your shy demure behavior, what you're set on right now is pleasuring your man like he deserves, sloppy wet sounds fill the room, pushing suguru further toward the edge.

Your boyfriend lets out one last low groan before cumming hard inside your mouth with a shaky exhale. And you're over the moon. His cum is rich and warm, it reminds you of everything sweet, tender and comforting, much like his love for you. It reminds you of all the things that are yours, and for you alone.

His long disheveled locks of hair frame his handsome face perfectly, Sweat drops catch the light on his flushed face, his eyes screwed shut.

He looks absolutely devine.

Suguru's eyes flutter open to meet your enamored gaze. You just look so cute like this, cheeks red and puffed out, his love juices dripping down your chin, doe eyes staring at him with so much adoration. The sweet smile that never fails to weaken you in the knees is back on his features, and he starts to gently stroke your cheek with his thumb.

"Come on, swallow, sweetie. It'll make me so proud."

And how could disobey when he uses that tone?

"There you go, good baby..always so good for me"

And there it is, that gentle tone, the sweet, sweet tender coo that triggers the itch between your legs. Your thighs start grinding together seemingly in their own. You want him to hold you, to touch you, to kiss you, to take care of you like he always does.

Suguru can see the need in your eyes, and it's all it takes for him to act immediately.

"Come here, little one" he pats his lap "let mommy give you some relief"

And of course he doesn't have to tell you twice, you are scrambling to sit in your rightful place and have him tuck you away his arms, where you will forever be safe. You want more than anything to just mindlessly grind away at his thick muscular thighs, but you know better.

Suguru feels the desperation in your kiss. it's long, messy, and all over the place. He rubs your back in a circular motion to reassure you. A string of saliva keeps you both connected when you pull away. You take a second to catch your breath before you speak.

"Suguru , I..i uhm...i really n-need you right now.."

The teasing expression on his face and raise of his brow sets you straight.

"P-please...."

"Please, what, sweet thing? Speak up. " You don't notice his hand trailing down until it's gently squeezing at your tummy, making your ache for him flare up.

"P-please...mommy..."

And he's smiling like the cat that got the cream, wide and satisfied. He kisses your forehead gently before wrapping his big hands around your thighs.

"Good job.. baby, let mommy take care of you, sweetheart"

firm believer touya cries when he cums and i just want to be a frat party with cry baby by megan thee stallion blaring and just smirk so evilly across the room at him

now playing…

angel by massive attack

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

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.

now playing…

fragile by laufey

↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡

tenko shimura x reader

“mist stop w all of the domestic bliss drabbles!” NO!!!!!! n e ways here’s post rehabilitation tenko :)

cw’s!!: gn! reader, bathing together (nonsexual), not canon compliant!! (he’s in rehab and staying w UR family :]), he is so emotionally constipated i luv him, andddd i think that’s it!! ^.^

wc: 673

“are you sure this is okay?” tenko’s voice is soft from his spot behind you. there’s a quiet sound of the lukewarm — not either of your preferences for temperature, but it was better for his skin — water sloshing when he shifted to hook his chin over your shoulder, his rough cheek lightly brushing against yours.

you know why he’s asking that, but you act oblivious. “it’s late, i’m sure my family doesn’t mind us hogging the bathroom while they’re asleep.” his arms unconsciously tighten around your middle.

“no, like-“ he lets out a small huff, cutting off his own words. it sounds like he’s about to drop the topic altogether just because he can’t find the right words, but he continues. you’re happy he’s learning to grow out of that habit.

“is this okay…? staying here, i mean.”

“tenko, my family really likes you.” he falters.

“i don’t understand how they could…”

“because i love you, so they love you too.”

his lips pull into a small frown at that.

“they can’t just ignore what i’ve done, they’d be stupid to do that.” there’s a lilt of irritation behind his words but you know better than to take it personally.

“they’re not ignoring what you’ve done. they trust you, tenko.” there’s always this annoying adoration in your voice whenever you say his new (old?) name that he has to stop himself from snapping back at. it’s not that he disliked it — not at all — but it just… didn’t make sense to him. it made him feel oblivious, like you were keeping a secret from him despite how vocal your praise always was.

you sigh softly when his brows furrow, your hand coming up to gently smooth out the familiar little wrinkle between them.

“they trust us.” you reiterate.

“well they shouldn’t.”

you raise a brow at that.

“why not?”

his lips pull into an unconscious little pout (a habit you didn’t dare bring to his attention even after all of these years. not out of fear of him getting angry — out of fear of him forcing the small vulnerability away).

“because obviously i’m still evil and you have some sort of weird stockholm syndrome that you refuse to acknowledge.” you have to bite back a laugh at his sudden petulance.

“no, baby, i don’t have any sort of stockholm syndrome.”

“see.” he grumbles, clearly convinced by his own astute observations.

you can’t fight the small snicker that leaves you at that, but you decide to humor him for a moment.

“alright, so i have stockholm syndrome. how exactly are you still evil?”

he thinks on your question for a second.

“i’m mean and antisocial and i dusted your brothers game controller the other day…” your smile grows.

“and i still hate heroes and i-” he continues for a moment only to stop when he sees the widening smile on your face. god, you’re so irritating…

“what?” he grits out, unable to hide the small flush on his face. he’d blame it on the steam from the lukewarm bath later.

“no, nothing.” his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“really, tenko, it’s nothing.” a small laugh laces your words when he continues glaring at you. he doesn’t say anything, expecting you to fold and tell him what’s on your mind with just a look (you would, of course. neither of you were known for having strong resolves against each other).

“it’s just…” you pause, contemplating how to word your thoughts.

“… you’re human, tenko. last time i checked there’s nothing evil about that.”

he pauses, considering your words for a long moment. he’s human. he has preferences and flaws and makes mistakes because he’s human — not because he’s evil. it’s common sense but it still takes him aback for some reason. how irritating.

he brings up his hand from under the water, pressing his wet palm to your cheek to push your face away from his flushed one.

“that’s a stupid thing to say.” is the only thing he says in response. you smile.

“i know.”

hehehehvdjdbejdbdjdk

making tres leches tn who wants a piece

ehehe….. ehehehehehe……….

i have such a specific prompt in my mind rn that’s like very fluffy and sweet but i also have half written angst that i need to finish up……. every day is a roulette on this acct

i hope u know this reached me during the final prayer. ur the temptation they warned against.

Mist my dear, you must understand that all of this MUST be done. Imagine a world without mommy sugu. Now, wouldn't that be devastating

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.

Omg i can't believe i have this blog and all these people who read the stuff in the blog and all these friends i made from the blog like?!?!??!!?