Latest Posts by m1stm3 - Page 10
mmmmffff thinking abt toji with gunplay lordddd
like he would never hurt you!! but that doesn’t stop him from pressing the barrel of his gun to your head while he fucks you from the back. if you had an unobstructed view of him, you’d see he took more than enough safety measures, even if they seemed unnecessary.
he’d chuckle when you gasp quietly, leaning in so his chest was flush to your back as the metal pressed firmer into your skin. “repeat what you said, doll. i’d hate if i had to blow your brains out of that pretty head just because you weren’t listening.”
ugh and he’d fucking laugh when he felt how tight you squeezed around him. “ohh, so that’s how it is? you like it when i threaten to put a bullet through your skull? that’s fuckin’ nasty doll, y’know that?” and you’re only able to whine in protest because your brain is just so far gone :(
and he’s such a hypocrite!! you could almost feel how much he was holding back with every twitch of his swollen cock :(( but you can’t even string together a defense, it’s like every single thought left your head the second you felt the barrel of the gun against your skin :((( it’s like he did it on purpose :(((( (he definitely did)
new themeeee hehehehehe
still thinking abt toji tugging at my tongue piercing while fucking me from the back…… lord………..
my type of man has a thick happy trail and an even thicker cock amen
i so badly wanna write the preliminary meeting that i mentioned in the yandere suguru thing…………. i just think it’ll be funnnn teehee ^^
“yes this is yandere. yes im romanticizing it.” absolutely give me 10 of them rn
Imagine hating on me but i spend my free time maladaptive daydreaming about getting raw dogged by fictional men
My sword insures your crown
Yandere knight!Suguru Geto x royal!reader, crumbles of lady in waiting utahime x reader
Tw: mentions of blood and murder, yandere themes, suguru's obsessed.
A/n: This took everything out of me to finish in one day, i lost the earlier draft and had to restart all over again. It turned out better than the original, tho. It's 7 pm over here, and my brain is begging me for a rest. Please let me know if you find any errors >0<
-> amazing devider by the amazing @uzmacchiato (they're so delicious)
Synopsis: Durring the wee hours of the morning, word reaches you about your favorite knight. You rush to meet him only to learn about yet another one of benevolent efforts.
Before you stands a vicious beast.
Suguru is dreanched in blood. He looks like a wild animal with all of the red painting his armor crimson, his heavy panting doesn't help his case, making him seem impossibly more feral. But, you know he's anything but. He further proves you right when he swiftly moves to close the distance between you by enveloping you in his arms and holding on as tightly as he can. You can feel his shaky breaths against the side of your neck, his tears catching on quicky after as well.
The blood is seeping into your clothes, lines of red intertwining with threads of silk, binding you to him. And you know suguru well enough to discern that this was indeed the intention.
"Sugu-" steel poleyns crashe against the marble floor, halting you in your tracks, you don't get to finish your sentence before your knight kneels on both of his knees, hands gripping your garments for dear life, face hidden in your lap. Suguru crumbles to the ground and so does the illusion of a monster.
A sigh of relief makes its way out of his throat, he shifts his body to wraps his arms around your waist. You stand there in the silence that follows, dreading the moment you have to ask.
"Its not my blood" the answer to your unspoken question reaches you in the form of a raspy breathless whisper. "Don't worry, your highness" suguru mutters before burring his face deeper, basking in your presence.
"I see..." the relief in your tone isn't lost on your knight, you can feel his content smile before he nuzzles deeper against your lap.
"In that case uhm....if you..if you don't mind, who exactly-"
"Don't mind that"
He almost snaps. The shift in his mood is loud and clear, it's like your question startled him, it has even him stumbling for an adequate follow up.
"Please. Your highness, don't stress yourself. Its my duty to protect you, no matter the cost"
The knight is not delusional enough to believe his own lies. Of course, he knows the noble man who was on his way to ask for your hand in marriage didn't pose any immediate danger. Of course, he understands that your marriage would be beneficial for the nation, of course he knows such extreme measures aren't necessary. You have your fair share of tricks. Your influence is nothing to scoff at, but not even you can sway the king when it comes to deplomatic matters such as these. Your father is a tough cookie, something suguru won't entertain. So it's his responsibility to shield you from what you can't handle.
"Alright then...i understand. Enough said" he doesn't have to say it outloud for you to understand. It's an open secret that suguru would go to unimaginable heights to insure your happiness, be it plucking fresh berries for you, or disposing of your suitors. It's what a faithful servant does, it's only natural. However, the topic of your marriage in particular, seems to stand out to him.
Suguru wants to believe that this is all for you. He wants to say that your smile is the only reward he would claim. But he knows his sword won't show any mercy even if you approve of the admirer.
The sight is straight out of a tragic opera. You look like lovers like this, a man on both his knees, his sweetheart in his arms, both covered in a blanket of red. The gruesome factor adds to the appeal. It's such a twisted yet intimate display but a shamless one given your status.
your attempt to pull away from the embrace is futile, Suguru only pulls you closer, and you'd be a foul to think you can match his strength.
"Suguru, we can't stay like this forever, come on you need to clean up before one of maids sees us like this"
Before one of the maids sees us, huh.
Your knight entertaines the idea for a moment, to be seen like this with you, this close and personal, your nonechallant reaction is just the cherry on top, already used to the knight's antics, he always acts like he has something to prove, as if he hadn't done enough of that already.
Suguru doesn't respond, he doesn't move from his position either, like a stubborn oversized guard dog, you have to run your fingers through his hair to get him to snap out of his love stick trance. The knight meets your eyes with his own pair, a devoted expression overtaking his visage. One that tells you he would throw himself back at the blood bath as many times as you ask.
"Let's get going. I need to change first. I don't want Utahime to worry"
Your lady in waiting is not going to like this one bit, for somone who fusses over the smallest paper cuts she detects on your fingers, she is not going to let this go no matter how much you explain.
Suguru's mood visibly sours, the smallest mention lf the servant woman bringing him back to reality. Suguru would love nothing more than to rid you of her, but you've made it abundantly clear that Utahime is off limits.
"Must you really mention her every time we are together, your highness? Am i not enough for you?"
You chuckle in response, and it's enough to bring his spirit back up. He takes both of your hands in his before giving them a squeeze, his lips follow soon after, pressing a long almost desperate kiss to the back of your hands, his thumbs linger on your knuckles long after he pulled his face away. Coating them with blood. Coating your soul with his love. His unconditional devotion.
An exasperated sigh from you is all it takes to bring him back on his feet, his smiles is fond, genuine, one of an innocent man, not suitable for a murderer.
"Shall we?"
He offers you his arm to hold, and you waste no time clinging to him. You don't get to do this anymore, you don't get to spend time with him like this, not when you're of marriageable age, not with all these little insects the king keeps sending your way, eager to have you married and out of his hair, something about inssuring the pure royal lineage before his majesty passes away, honestly suguru prays the old man gets on with it already, bite the bucket and leave you be. Suguru certainty won't shy away from spilling your father's blood if he kept causing you problems.
Suguru walks you to your powder room to clean up then to your chambers. Usually, you'd invite him inside for a late night cup of tea and a chat under the stars in your balcony. But the angry ravenette woman by the chambers door shooting daggers at your knight is enough to make you reconsider. It seems you'll have to cut your little midnight adventure short.
Utahime pulls you inside with a gentle hand on the small of your back. She closes the doors behind you both but not before throwing one last glare at the long-haired man. He stares back at her with just as much malice, something you don't see. Your lady in waiting rushes to over and begins to examine you, all while muttering incoherently under her breath.
"That senseless brute! I don't trust him one bit. Who does he think he is? Men can be such a pain! What did he want from you this late, your highness?"
Your sweet melodious greets her ear and puts the woman at ease.
"All is well utahime, please don't worry"
Your hand finds her shoulder to rub soothingly, kind kind eyes meet her own, grounding her instantly, Utahime's tirade meets its end the second she gazes at you.
"He was just delivering something to me"
"A-at this hour?"
"Yup!" Your cheerful response leaves her speachless, utahime believes that no matter how much time you spend together, she will never be able to predict your antics.
And so he sighs.
"Your highness.....what am i going to do with you?" It's a light hearted question, never in a million years could she be upset with you.
"Yooouuuu could get us a glass of wine and join me in the balcony" you leave her no room to argue, making a B-line to the mentioned destination with a happy pep in your steps, mind clearly occupied. A moment later she joins you with a bottle of alcohol and a pair of stemware.
Under the moonlight Utahime clocks the blood under your finger nails.
backshots with his hand under your chin to force you to hold your head up and arch your back for him. extra points if he slides his fingers in your mouth and smiles at how quickly you start sucking on them
was just thinking (and got all flustered and extremely giddy about it) of how Suguru "subtly" croons away a "pestering" clerk (who, mind you, was simply just doing his job.....and perhaps had a keen eye for you, who thought your were gorgeous and single and Suguru is very perceptive of these things really and that is such a turn on.....) who tries to help try on some shoes you had picked out.
but Suguru wasn't having it. he wasn't too fond of some other man trying to weasel his way onto his stunning wife. so he does what he thought was the most crucial and logical thing to do. looms over the guy with a piercing death stare and shoves him out of the way with a ticking pulled smile on his face.
"I'm sorry I took so long my love, here, let me help you" and he just nudges his way past the gawking clerk, watching the way your adoring, tender husband, gets on one knee before you and begins to sensually remove your current shoes off with the new one that had caught your eye. languid, warm supple fingers diligently trace up and down along the slope of your smooth leg as he peers over his right shoulder to a shifting clerk, now clearly uncomfortable and nervous. clearly walking away from the intimate display between husband and wife.
you would roll your pretty eyes with a low scoff, carding your left hand through the soften tresses of obsidian, making him look up at you with a knowing glare.
"Really Suguru? felt threatened about a shoe clerk?" you would mock, feeling him turn into your hand and delicately kiss your wrist, trailing his soften eyes back onto yours with a cheeky smile.
"Threatened? never. simply giving him obvious signs that you are my beautiful, faithful wife? yes" you chuckle lightly, tenderly biting your lower lip as you feel his hands finally lace up the last strap of the heel on your leg and gradually smooth upward to your upper thigh.
"You're so lucky I find you sooo undeniably attractive when you show me off to others that I'm yours, Sugu" you halt his sly motions with the tip of your heeled toes against his lap, nudging close in between his legs. he simply shimmies a subtle shaky chortle, imminent eye contact still lingered onto you with a daring look.
desperately humping a huge bulge and trembling with both desire and nervous excitement because you can feel how impossibly large it is even though several layers separate you
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!!!!
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!!!!
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.
Could you imagine Aizawa’s forearms while he chokes you? Thick with veins popping out as he holds you down by your neck and fucks you
tw: choking/breath play
-
Most of the teachers have left, but you're still there with the final stragglers, happily sipping on your fourth espresso martini of the night.
Not that aizawa's counting.
No, he's not even paying attention to you. Not at all. He's only came to this end of the year celebration because he likes overpriced beer and dealing with his annoying friends.
No other reason.
The group has dwindled down to a smaller inner circle, just close friends and their close conversations. Aizawa isn't sure how the conversation turned to sex (probably Midnight's fault) but he can't help but be a little intrigued.
Especially since the questions are now being directed at you.
"Oh come on, don't be like that! Everyone has some sort of kink!" Mic says, much too loudly. He's gesturing with his beer, spilling little splatters across the table, much to everyone else's chagrin, "I like mean women, Midnight likes-"
"Everything." Midnight herself interrupts with a laugh before stuffing a dumpling into her mouth.
You join into the laughter, coyly shielding your smile with the back of your hand, a secret that only Aizawa can discover from where he sits. Your eyes flicker to Aizawa's and he immediately looks away, down to the slow rising bubbles of his drink. Tomorrow, when you're both dry, you'll probably regret the accidental flirtations.
"So, spill!" Mic demands.
"I can't!" you whine, "It's embarrassing."
"Vlad once told me he likes feet-- it can't be more embarrassing than that," the blonde leans in over the table, waggling his brows, "Unless you're into feet, then I have the perfect man for you."
Aizawa scoffs. Thankfully, the sound of it is swallowed by the ambient noise of the bar.
"Well, I guess..." Your hand travels up your chest, coming to rest on your collarbone. There's a far off gaze in your eyes and a toothy smirk unfolding across your features, like you're remembering something that you'll never share, as your hand travels even farther up. Your fingers close around the soft of your throat, nails into skin, and Aizawa's breath catches in his throat--
"I like being choked," you admit.
It almost doesn't break him. He's almost strong enough to pretend he's not captivated by the idea-
"Makes me cum really hard."
and then you squeeze. Your forearm flexes and your eyes flutter just for show, pulling scandalized giggles and laughter from the rest of the group, but Aizawa is immediately locked in fantasy.
The thought of how just one of his hands could wrap itself easily around your neck, how much thicker his palm is next to yours, how it can cover the whole spanse of your throat-- it knocks a breath out of him with much he enjoys it. And god, he'd look so strong, veins bulging as he fucked you stupid, those pretty little eyes getting that far off glaze again as you make a mess of his cock, no breath in your lungs to even beg for more-
"What about you, Eraser?" Mic's voice breaks him out of his daydream, "Are you ever going to confess what tickles your fancy?"
Aizawa takes a long chug from his drink, until the heat of desire is replaced with the burn of alcohol. Instead of quieting him like he wants, it makes him brave-
and stupid.
His eyes flicker to you for a second before returning to the group. "I like choking."
this website is so full of morbidly depressed people its kind of refreshing actually. no glamour no spectacle of a perfect life even the biggest blogs here are run by suicidal transsexuals with messy rooms who have strange sexual fantasies. found my people
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 ^^;
read the prequel here!!! :)
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.
thinking abt suguru taking care of u while ur sick………
he’s so caring and doting by nature, so he’s so quick to get you the medication and food you need to make a speedy recovery!! he’s supplying you with so many tissues and blankets and is texting you literally every second of the day if he absolutely has to leave you to take care of something… overall a 10/10 nurse, would get sick again!!!
but, your sickness does not curb his clinginess. at all. if anything, he gets even more clingy despite the risk of him catching the bug that you have.
he’s cuddling close to “warm you up”, seating you on his lap while spoon feeding you whatever he made you, he’s even pressing kisses to your lips after you take your medicine to “get that nasty taste out of your mouth” (and don’t even try to protest because “he’ll get sick”, it’ll only cause him to slip his tongue into your mouth with that stupid smirk on his face while you’re speaking. nasty nasty man.)
he even offers to help you sweat out your fever after you gain a bit of strength!! how sweet!!!! ^^;
i have. such good news!! ^^ u guys will see it later this evening hehehehehehe
my current wip teehee i hope yall like medical malpractice!!!! ^^ (and delusional yandere suguru!!!!!)
“(not like you had to, he’d let you see his insides if you asked politely enough)” WHAT R WE TALKING ABTTTTTTT WTF
my current wip teehee i hope yall like medical malpractice!!!! ^^ (and delusional yandere suguru!!!!!)
continued writing. he is a FREAKKKKKK lowk might get this done by tn……. fingers crossed!!!
my current wip teehee i hope yall like medical malpractice!!!! ^^ (and delusional yandere suguru!!!!!)
my current wip teehee i hope yall like medical malpractice!!!! ^^ (and delusional yandere suguru!!!!!)
i have like. 4 smut drafts staring at me rn. all for jjk. hm…….. ANYWAYS i’m posting a lil sugu imagine later today that i just wrote teehee
roomate!geto x reader
it's 1am, and geto suguru is freezing. he's got a hot water bottle, a comforter, and two thick blankets, yet he's still shivering like a naked mole rat in midwinter.
why am i so fucking cold? geto thinks, feeling ridiculous as he rubs his legs together like a giant cricket. he wonders if he's inexplicably lost fifty pounds in the night and his body is shutting down. or maybe the apartment has been magically transported to a remote arctic wasteland.
"suguru?" the door creaks open, and geto sits up, squinting at your face, illuminated by the hallway light.
"oh, hey," he says, pulling his blankets up to his chin. "you okay?"
"yeah," you say, slipping into the room and closing the door behind you. geto reaches over and flicks on his bedside lamp. "i think our central heating switched off. it's, like, unbearable."
you look small and vulnerable in the yellow lamplight. so different from your usual put-together state. geto raises an eyebrow at your penguin-patterned pajama pants, and you flush.
"a gift from my grandma, asshole," you say, straightening your tank top. geto tries not to dwell on how thin and semi-see through it is.
"mhm," he says, flashing you what he knows is a charmingly ironic grin. he shifts under his covers. "yeah, it's cold. i honestly don't know how i'm gonna fall asleep again."
"well," you say, glancing down at your feet. you're uncharacteristically bashful. "i was thinking, maybe—and it's totally okay if you're not comfortable with this—i was wondering if i could sleep with you? just for the body heat. my room is, like, super cold and—"
"you wanna sleep with me?" geto repeats, just to see you squirm. he knows he's being a little mean. but he can afford to be, especially when he already knows exactly what his answer is.
"not like that," you're quick to say. you blush harder. "i mean, obviously. obviously i would never—"
"aw," he says with a melodramatic pout. "never ever?"
the two of you have teased each other like this before. joking that you'd get married if you were both still single by 40, bringing each other as plus-ones to various work events and telling coworkers you'd been together since high school—but somehow the teasing felt very different when you were both in various states of undress.
"maybe if you got a haircut," you say with a small smile, rubbing the chicken skin on your arms. geto feels his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. "anyway. please? can i sleep here? just for tonight."
"sure, kid," he says, pulling back the covers for you. he knows you hate it when he calls you that, but tonight you don't protest. "c'mere."
you slip in, instantly curling up against his side. geto feels his whole body thrum when your ice-cold skin presses up against his. his body automatically wraps around yours, tugging your waist closer, slipping his arm beneath your head. he's never been this close to you. it feels wrong, but it also feels natural.
"better?" he says, lips brushing the back of your neck. he feels you stiffen a little at his warm breath.
"much," you say. you pull his arm tighter around you and nestle into the curve of his body. "and just so we're clear: no funny business."
"i wouldn't dream of it," he says, voice low. you smell so good. so you. he feels something instinctive, something evolutionary in himself say this is it, isn't it? "as i've said many times before, you utterly repulse me. we could never be more than roommates."
"never ever," you say, and as you do, you bring his knuckles up to your lips and press a warm, soft kiss on them. geto bites back a gasp. he's suddenly very aware of his t-shirt and shorts being the only barriers separating his body from yours.
"get that haircut, suguru," you whisper, so soft he almost doesn't catch it. "then we'll talk."
"okay," he whispers back, then, closing his eyes, he settles into the bed, with you in his arms. slowly, slowly, his breathing falls into step with yours: inhale, exhale. inhale... exhale. (just before he drifts off, he makes a mental note to call the nearest salon tomorrow.)
I owe venti a lot of fanfictions for saving my 16 year old self, teen years are brutal
Satoru pulled up a chair and sat in front of you, well, he sat in the chair backwards but was still facing you- how he was sitting wasn't the point.
No, what got you focused was the way he was staring at you.
"Want to play twenty questions?"
The simple question eased your heart a bit, "sure! I'll go first."
Your smile was bright, blinding even.
You thought over a question for a bit before deciding on something simple to start things off. Mentally ticking down a number one as you marked off your first ask.
"What's your favorite color?"
Satoru gaze was lazer focused on you, "Digimon. Do you love me?"
my sister in law got me a locket…. i have evil plans………. (putting my f/o’s pic in the locket ^^)
my sister in law got me a locket…. i have evil plans………. (putting my f/o’s pic in the locket ^^)
Suguru is seductive.
Not meaning effortlessly attractive, –while that is true– meaning that unlike other men who throw themselves at you, expecting you to comply, almost demanding it, Suguru tries to swoop you off your feet and drop you onto his bed. He doesn't care to be subtle. In fact, he wants you to see all the effort he puts in. His intentions are loud and clear.
The Egyptian musk incense burning away, the pheromone perfume, his hair fully let down and a little messy just the way he knows you like it, and his traditional robes looser than usual, slightly hanging off his exposed shoulders.
His voice is silkier than usual, taking on a more purring tone. He's more soft-spoken than usual when he greets you.
"Welcome home, honey. I missed you terribly "
Suguru is by your side before you know it. Helps you take off your coat before touching you more intimately. He rests his hand on your cheek, his thumb gently teases your lower lip.
"What took you so long, dearest?"
Gentle as always, his thumb moves to the side to contour your jaw, smoothly sliding down the dip of your neck to trace your jugular vein. Such a tease
He puts you in a trance everytime he gets like this, your beautiful beautiful man. With his hands and eyes solely on you, its hard not to feel like the center of the universe, not when his eyes seem to harbor the answers to all of its secrets.
So you stand there in his gentle hands, basking in your sensual partner's attention, feeling safe and yet afloat. One of the many things that set Suguru apart from other men was his ability to balance between excitement and comfort. He was perfect, he was an addiction.
And he is yours.
The finger he slides down your collar bone and halts its journey at your chest feels like a feather light touch, –So on brand for him– yet its enough to make your breath hitch, and release butterflies loose to roam free in your stomach. Suguru loves when you get like this. When you relax and let your guard down, he loves it when you go borderline limp in his arms. He loves feeling special to you. It means the world.
You being responsive to suguru's advances means the world to hi. And that's all the go-ahead he needs to never stop trying, to do his best to woo you, make you swoon, to work hard and keep you with him, and keep the spark between you going. It feels to him like he had found the formula to your heart, –And in a way he has, who wouldn't feel flattered?– so he will continue to deliver his message of –I care, i will always care for you, no matter how much time passes– and prove his love with whatever means necessary.
