Latest Posts by m1stm3 - Page 5
ugh i just read ur sukuna x mangoes post and i want to kidnap you and trap u in a basement and make u write for every fandom i'm in i'm so sad i'm not into jjk/mha that much bcos ur writing is DIVINE. (no creepy or weird vibes intended just obsessed with how u write). thank u for that gift
HEHEHEHEHEHHEHE U WANNA WHATTTTTT
UGGGGGHHHH TYSM UR SOSOSOSOSO SWEET IM LITERALLY SOBBING RN!!!!!
the fact that u enjoyed it despite not even being that into jjk i can’t i can’t i can’t i appreciate ur words so much i don’t think u understand <33333 ilyssssssmmmmmmm thank u soso much for ur kind words :((( <33
“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.
reblog if you wear glasses. too many mutuals don't know they have glasses wearers in their midsts
Your first husband died peacefully in his sleep. You had nothing to do with it.
You did want his money but that was another matter!
He was on the verge of death anyway so getting into his pants (and pockets) was extremely easy. You made out like a bandit with most of his fortune. It set you up for life, you were thankfully done with old men and their money.
That was until you saw the detective that sauntered into your house. He was tall, toned and tan. Your mouth practically watered as he talked to you in a sweet tone, like you were truly in mourning for your husband.
“Suguru Geto.” He had introduced himself with a firm handshake.
You had practically melted into the floor.
Apparently your dead husband was in an embezzlement lawsuit before he passed so he came to investigate the house for evidence. You didn’t really care but you played the part of grieving widow all while subtly flirting with him.
He didn’t seem to notice or he didn’t say anything. As he goes through the files you try to think of a way to get him to stay longer. Nothing comes to mind and he leaves you with a small pout on your lips.
Opening up your phone you click on the sugar baby app you frequented before getting married. What’s one more dead old man if you get to see that detective again?
me self reblogging my posts just in case the specific mutual currently online that I think would like it hasn’t already seen it
“hm. i wonder why ive been thinking about suguru so much?” mist says as if 3/4 of their mutuals aren’t suguru-ccentric writers.
Me reading Chainsaw Man: damn, Fujimoto is so good at writing compelling female characters, how does he do it
Fujimoto: women are evil and scary and they want to cut off my dick
hi so this is actually insane???????
“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.
just saw someone say that toji would mention his dead wife during arguments. hm.
Sukuna is used to being pulled into the mortal realm, it was a part of the job as a demon. Most humans ask him for trivial things like wealth or immortality.
He has fun with it because he grants those wishes in the worst ways possible. A man will be wealthy but not be able to access it or if someone asks for immortality he will still let them age.
So when he was summoned he was more then ready to twist whatever wish the person had for him.
What he hadn’t expected was to be summoned to a small kitchen. A pot of something he can’t see simmers on the messy stovetop. He looks around for who summoned him here.
Sukuna’s eyes catch on a human sitting cross legged on the floor, an old tattered book in their hands. They are muttering something about thyme?
“Why have you summoned me here?” Sukuna booms and the human looks up in shock.
“Who are you? How did you get into my apartment?” You ask with confusion and rising concern.
Sukuna reiterates with a sigh, “You summoned me here, what do you want?”
Looking down at the book then back up at him then back to the book you look more and more confused.
“You were supposed to be chilli.” You say slowly to him.
If he wasn’t so miffed at being summoned for nothing he would’ve barked out a laugh. So he pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs.
“How did you fuck up a chilli recipe this bad?” He asks you.
“I have never been that good of a cook- but this is a new low for me.” You admit and Sukuna joins you on the floor.
He doesn’t miss how your eyes trace the tattoos on his exposed torso. Maybe this won’t be so pointless after all.
“Well,” Sukuna gives you a smirk, “it looks like we are stuck together until you decide on what you want from me.”
EVERYONE SAY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HIM RN!!!!!!!!!!
selfshipping is cool when you're 13 and it's also cool when you're 40. everyone should selfship forever
his favorite show is on
sometimes a theme recurs in your work without your permission. and sometimes it reaches a threshold where you're like. well now i think this is saying something about me against my will. don't know what though
Everyone wanted to be thicc but nobody wanted to be fat. Everyone wanted the dad bod but nobody wanted to be fat. Everyone wants fat mommy milkers but nobody wants mommy to be fat. Everyone wants to be a bear but not like, an actual fat bear. You get what i’m saying
“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.
my villain deku design
Post-canon post-recover au transfem touya wowow
“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.
Unskippable Bathroom Cutscene
Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x gn!reader
Genre: smut
Content: forcing Tomura to take a hygene break while he games and making it worth his while~
♤Warnings: soft!dom!reader, handjob, some nipple play, anal fingering w/o lube, Tomura is a lil masochist but a good boy <3 ♤
A/n: was a lil tipsy while picking the title lmao
~ 1,9k words ~ MDNI | MHA Masterlist
You scowl, still hearing Tomura talk into his mic, relentless on this video game he's been obsessed with for the better part of a month. You told him to shower at least five times now, but your stubborn boyfriend is still glued to his screen, probably not even thinking about his real-life responsibilities of owning a body with severe eczema. A sigh escapes your lips as you walk into his gaming room, interrupting his session once more.
"Baby," your voice has lost its sliver of patience, sterner now, although it doesn't seem to bother Tomura, his attention still on the computer despite your hand pulling one side of his headset off. "You still haven't showered, have you?"
He presses his lips together, the scar over them flexing along. His eyes shift momentarily to you, gracing you with only a second of attention, almost shielded by his wavy strands. He shakes his head, not even offering a verbal response before his fingers continue their restless assault on the controller.
That's enough, you decide, now taking the headset off his head and push his controller out of his hands and onto the desk. "Tomu. I'm not telling you again, go take a shower now."
His brows furrow, fingers quickly grasping to at least save his game. Tomura leans back in his chair, letting out an annoyed groan without looking at you. "Don't wanna."
"Don't care," you mock his grumpy tone, patting his shoulder. Your eyes scan over his slumped form, realizing you're way too whipped for this man. "I'll draw you a bath, how about that?" you suggest, leaning in to kiss his pouty cheek.
"Whatever," Tomura grumbles, irritated his game abruptly ended and not really caring how this annoying task of self-maintenance will be carried out. His attitude is endearing and you can't help a small scoff as you ruffle his long hair.
"If I see you back on that game, I'll confiscate the controller," you warn him before walking to the bathroom.
The tub is filled with remedies for Tomura's skin, smelling pleasantly smooth. He's next to you already, eyes droopy and shoulders sagged. Seems like a few minutes away from the computer made this boy realize just how tired he is.
"C'mon, get undressed, baby," you coax, your eyes gentle as you take in his tired form. The exhaustion is entirely his fault, but that doesn't stop you from feeling bad for him. Your hands reach out to the hem of his shirt, offering to help him out.
He silently lets you, first his shirt, then his pants. You have to refrain from staring at his beautiful naked body, trustingly on display for you alone. Your hand trails over his spine as he sinks into the water, moaning at the warmth engulfing him, his body leaning against the back of the bathtub. You roll your sleeves up while crouching down behind him, arms wrapping around his neck loosely.
"Feel nice?" you murmur close to his ear, your eyes occupied by how pretty he looks, the slightly foamy water encasing his pale skin.
Tomura hums, his eyes closing as he leans his head back. Of course - you knew he'd enjoy this once he's actually in the water, the same pattern repeating whenever you have to force your pretty boyfriend to take care of himself. Your hands dip into the water, gently wetting his shoulders, fingers ghosting over sensitive skin.
You take your time massaging his body, wash along his shoulders and sore scratched neck, over and under his arms, his chest, and tummy as far as you can reach. Your mouth is occupied with the small kisses you trail along his cleaned neck, tasting leftover bitterness of soap. Tomura is pliant under your touch, his throat releasing approving little noises, head rolling to the side to give you more access.
"You look so pretty, baby," you coo into his ear, smirking at the obvious shiver that runs down his spine. He bites his lip, successfully suppressing a small whine. Your hands keep wandering under the water, almost without your permission, feeling each centimeter you can reach. You get lost in the feeling of his skin so soft and pliant and wet underneath your fingertips with the water engulfing your arms in pleasant warmth.
You know your boyfriend's body by heart and pick up the subtle signs of neediness like a wolf sniffing out its prey. There's a roused grin pulling at your lips, your hands caressing his lower tummy, fingers reaching dangerously far. Tomura inhales sharply, his body shifting under your possession, satisfyingly letting the water ripple against the tub's edge.
"Y/n," he whispers, his tone having switched from innocent appreciation to something more suggestive, an underlying invitation hiding behind your hushed name.
"Yes, my sweet boy?" you coo in response, teeth grazing the outer shell of Tomura's ear. You watch his hand curling to a first on his thigh, practicing learned self-restraint.
"Want you."
"But I'm right here, baby," you can't hide the obvious grin in your voice, eyes fixed on his side profile, enjoying each and every reaction to your teasing. Tomura closes his eyes, brows cutely furrowed. You both know you're aware of what he wants, but teasing Tomura when he's worn out and needy is one of your favorite things.
Your hand wanders back upward, finding his bony chest, instinctively circling his sensitive nipple. The action earns you a pretty gasp, Tomura's torso arching into your touch, lips pouty with usual defiance.
"Want you to touch me," he corrects his earlier statement, voice whiny but with its usual aloof undertone. You chuckle against his neck as you resume your kisses there, claiming you're already touching him.
Your stubbornness to follow his request makes Tomura huff with frustration, his hand twitching to just make you fist his hardened cock, but he refrains. Something about your gentle voice and touch makes him want to obey, makes him want to deserve you. Another gasp splits his lips when your fingers pinch at his chest, his body jerking with electricity, hand finally coming up to carefully grasp your wrist.
You release his nipple from your fingers, eyes fixed on Tomura's face once again. You move your hand and he releases it easily, eyes innocent when you turn his chin towards you. His red gaze meets yours, a fog of want clouding his vision, his pretty face flushed from the heat of the bath and the sin your fingers brought upon his insides. You smirk before leaning in, kissing his scarred lips.
Tomura's breath stumbles under your advance, his shoulders visibly relaxing, body leaning towards you, begging for more of you, and you can't help but want to indulge him. His chin is released from your hold, the touch of your hand now slowly treading downwards, feeling the tremble of his muscles with each centimeter they traverse.
He gasps when your finger trails along the dip where his thigh meets his hip, exploring further until you're sprawled along the inside of his thigh. He's eager, too eager for self-control, and therefore can't stop his body from jerking to the side, trying to get you to make contact with his pulsating goin.
You dart your tongue out, licking between his lips before pulling away, met with the rewarding look of Tomura's glistening lips and flushed cheeks, his eyes hooded. "You're being awfully good right now, sweetheart," you muse, finally lifting your hand from his thigh, palm engulfing the warm tip of his dick, "almost makes me want to forget about earlier."
His defiance about taking a shower still hangs fresh in your memory, but when he's being this pliant, this cute with those adorable lips that part for the prettiest moan when you squeeze his cock, it's hard to dwell on it. Tomura's eyes cast downwards, always turned on by seeing you touch him, and watch his own body react to the pleasure.
You lazily stroke along his length while beginning to leave small kisses over his shoulder again, sucking on the gentle skin ever so often. Your fingers are still greedy, needing to feel more of him, needing to make him feel more. Your other hand makes its way down his body too, trailing along the opposite side, into the water, and over his thigh.
“Spread your legs, baby," you coo against his skin, your hand following the crease of his inner thigh downwards, "that's it, Tomura. Wider."
He whines while obliging, making way for your touch to find his entrance, rubbing against it teasingly. He arches his back, shoulder pushing slightly upwards with the motion for you to rest your chin on it and watch him fondly. His brows are furrowed, gaze still cast downwards, observing your hands working him, little gasps making his Addams apple bob cutely.
"Want me inside you?" you murmur, smirking at his hitching breath and how he pushes his hips downwards, already eager without having found the response to your question in his head.
"Please~" he moans, the sound whiny and erotic and impossible to resist. It must be painful without lube, but that only makes your boyfriend moan louder when you push the tip of your index into him.
Your other hand tightens its strokes, thumb continuously caressing his sensitive tip with added pressure. Tomura averts his eyes, laying his head back against the bathtub, letting his moans flow freely, hips twitching in your hold ever so often. You move your head closer to his again, allowing him the extra affection of small kisses trailing along his jaw.
"You can come whenever you want, sweetheart."
Tomura inhales sharply, another deep moan rolling over his tongue, his eyes closed in bliss. Your finger thrusts into him ever so often, careful not to press too far without any lubrication. His thighs tense deliciously under the water, shifting, desperate to close around the pleasure, but Tomura remains a good boy and keeps them open for you, despite the concentration it requires.
The muscles in his abdomen start tensing, announcing his oncoming orgasm routinely. His moans turn to pretty little gasps, filling the bathroom along with the sound of sloshing water, his hips jerking almost rhythmically into your fist. Your teeth very carefully graze along his neck, aware of the broken skin - equally aware of his knack for pain. He whines loudly his hands gripping his thighs tight enough to make the flesh turn white before his cock finally stutters out an orgasm.
White ropes mist the water, squirting from his shaft in cute little spurts, Tomura's eyes shut tight as he lets the feeling consume his body, ripple through every cell, and hollow out his mind. Your hand slows as you watch him come, enjoying the sight more than anything. Caught up in the moment, Tomura barely notices when you pull your digit out of him, hand soothingly stroking his thigh under the water to slowly wander up and caress his chest.
His cock isn't released from your grasp, continuing to stimulate him even as his orgasm subsides, the cutest choked whines erupting from him at the slight overstimulation, but his warm cheeks and wanting thrusts betray how good he feels. You tilt his chin towards you, kissing him deeply while keeping up the light strokes, swallowing every gasp.
"Want another one, baby?"
“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.
“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.
soaking in the bath while toji sits on top of the toilet seat bc he’s a big baby and can’t handle how hot you like your water.
you’re on your phone or reading a book, the skin above the water dewy from the steam and he just watches you. he watches as your head lulls to the side with a sigh before your breathing steadies. he’d think you were asleep if he didn’t know you any better, but he did.
he’d normally tease you, say something about how he didn’t know cpr if you fell asleep in the bath… but he doesn’t. instead he matches his breathing with yours (anything to make himself feel closer to you in the quiet moment) and leans against the back of the toilet. he’s content with watching you until your skin got all pruny. after all, isn’t that what he’ll be doing years from now anyway?
mdni!! (ﾟωﾟ)
satoru pauses in the middle of when you’re fucking to squeeze his eyes shut and thank whatever higher beings out there that he has a big dick.
because despite literally being born the strongest, he’d be damned if he couldn’t fuck you the way he does. he could handle living without the six eyes and limitless but not being able to fuck you correctly?? he’d rather drop dead on the spot.
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.
OH MY GOD AND A SPIDERVERSE TRAILER???? i’m abt to be so insufferable
THERE IS NO DELTARUNE
THERE IS NO SILKSONG
AND THERE IS NO QUEEN OF ENGLAND
