Jujutsu Geto - Blog Posts

happy birthday to my god suguru geto!!!!!!

Jjk s2 ep 4 spoilers

THE WORM ACTUALLY CALLED SUGURU "MOTHER" I AM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

_~°•*JJK Headcanons*•°~_

For the Ghetto Sugarboo fans

Geto Suguru x Blk!Fem!Reader

Tags/Warnings: Fluff!canon, no smut/lemon, Geto is cheeky bc why not, Satoru is his own warning

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Bf!Geto who:

Let's you use his shampoo and conditioner because IK we'll all be DAMNED if some cute, sexy man has better hair than us

Makes his curses follow at least 3 cars of width behind you when you need to go out (at night and away from home)

Refrains from calling your family w/o cursed energy monkeys because it's derogatory

Keeps you on his arm at all times when you go out with him in public so nothing happens to you

Let's you do/practice on his hair when you feel inspiration coming on

Introduces you to Mimiko and Nanako and gets little butterflies when he sees you three getting along so well...

Loses all of those butterflies when introducing to Satoru.

He (Satoru) took an immediate liking to you (platonic) after realizing that you also like to get on Ghetto's nerves

Vows never to bring the both of you around Nanami at the same time because you'll cause him to age 30 years

Loves at home movie dates with you, he likes cuddling with you while you talk through previews,

he likes holding you if it's a scary movie that you can't sit still through

Who lost every thought he had for a few minutes when you first said 'I love you'

$+_+$+_+$+_+$+_+$+_+$+_+$+_+$+_+$

Guys give me more ideas for hc's plsssss

`~•°×|JJK x Cowboys! Hamilton! Au|×°•~`

OKAYYY so imagine Jjk but it's actually Hamilton on crack and cowboys-

Where Gojo (Hamilton) and Geto (Aaron Burr) are cowboys and they have a duel at High Noon™

[because this is the 1600's so there's cowboys now fight me]

BUT OH WAIT-

they forgot to recite~

~~ The Ten Duel Commandments ~~

And then Geto/✨my baby boo Leslie Odon✨ sings 'Wait For It'

*I'm having a stroke someone help me /j

Anyways it's SatoSugu but actually Hamilton x Burr

((I can't do Hamilton x Lawrence because unfortunately it doesn't work IM SORRY))

Geto Burr because he's basically always second place to Hami-jo

Lmao imagine all of the SatoSugu + Mr. Loverman in the bg but everyone is also snorting a bunch of crack and it's all set in a time period where the entirety of Hamilton is actually cowboys

Hami-jo is still Hoejo™ confirmed and Geto Burr just really needs a win

Lafayette and Mulligan are Shoko (former) and Haibara(?)(latter)

Nanami is George Washington because literally who can't trust him

I have no idea where to fit the jujutsu students in here lol

Naoya is that whoever idiot who was Hamilton's enemy for the song Ten Duel Commandments (but he actually does this time cuz I think he lived in Hamilton canon)

All of this just came to me like 15 minutes ago because I was laughing at these comments on the following Instagram reel.

https://www.instagram.com/reel/C9snl_1tGv3/?igsh=Zzl0OWZlYmt5ZG03

mdni!!! (≧∀≦)

UMMMMM UHHHHHHH BLAME THIS ON THIS POST AND VALE I DIDNT DO ANYTHING!!!!!!!!!

cw’s!!: light(?) petplay (sugu calls u puppy + clicker trains u hehe), very very light dacryphilia, gn! reader (no specific parts mentioned other than the fact that ur bottoming!!), husband sugu…. the loml……..

wc: 792 :3

it started off as something silly! “for positive reinforcement.” suguru had explained simply when you narrowed your eyes at his initial mention of the idea. even after that (very poor) explanation, you still weren’t completely convinced.

“i’m just worried about you, my love. we’ve exhausted every option, haven’t we? why not try something unconventional?” and you would’ve refused once again, but ohhh, the way he wrapped his arms around your waist as he spoke… he was only worried for your wellbeing, after all…

he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head after your reluctant agreement.

and honestly? it wasn’t that bad at first! you had honestly thought that he forgot about the whole thing after a week of radio silence on the topic.

it wasn’t until he got home from a full day of errands that it was brought up again.

“did you eat, pretty?” he asked softly after pressing a peck to your lips in greeting. as soon as you let out a small hum of affirmation, there was a distinct sound coming from your husbands pocket that made your eyes narrow in suspicion.

two distinct clicks.

it took you a second to realize what it was, but an annoyed huff left you when you saw the smug look on his face. fucking bastard…

“good job, puppy.” you could only push him away as he laughed and heat rose to your cheeks.

it became almost routine after that. yes, you did huff and pout a couple of times after that initial instance, but you were used to the clicker after the first week. it was the same routine every time — you did something to take care of yourself, you got two clicks and a small praise from him.

and maybe… after a while… you found yourself purposefully taking care of yourself just so he could praise you… (you weren’t very good at hiding it, he saw the way your perked up expectantly whenever you told him about something good that you did.)

the thing is: if this whole arrangement started off as an experiment, why was the small, plastic device resting in his palm while you were struggling to sink onto his cock?

“c’mon pup, you got it...” his free hand is squeezing at your hip, the pads of his fingers digging into the soft skin there (it’d probably bruise later, but that’s the last thing on your mind at the moment).

“stop-… stop callin’ me that…” your voice comes out much whinier than you would’ve liked, but who could blame you? it was always so hard to take him in this position.

your bottom lip is in a small pout and wobbling slightly in frustration, your watery eyes fixed on where you and suguru meet. he stays quiet, running his hands over your skin in a comforting gesture to ease some of the tension in your muscles (it works, of course. his touch always brought you an unexplainable sort of comfort.)

you finally take all of him a few minutes later with a small, whimpered curse, the building tears in your eyes finally rolling down your cheeks when you feel the tip of his cock nudge right against that spot inside of you.

click click!

“thaaat’s it, puppy… fuck-“ a winded sort of chuckle leaves him. “— squeezed so tight when i used the clicker… you like it that much?” his hips twitch up into you involuntarily, making a strangled little whimper leave you against your will as you shake your head adamantly in denial.

“no? i must’ve been imagining things, then.” he breathes, finally starting the slow rock of his hips (of course he’d never let you do any of the work on your own!)

even so, your hips move to meet his motions while small, punched out moans escape your lips.

“there you go, puppy…” he groans softly. “takin’ me so well, so good f’me.” he’s practically babbling out praises at this point and as much as you wanted to deny it, the annoying little nickname he gave you was getting you close embarrassingly fast.

and fuck, the final thing that does you in are the godforsaken two clicks! that your brain had seemed to be specifically searching for.

his eyes are wide as he watches you unravel on top of him, the small whimpers leaving you only further confirming your puppy-like nature to your husband.

“did you just-” “shut up.” your voice is weak with embarrassment and your orgasm, but he’s quick to listen despite that.

he silently hopes he could train you to do that every time he used the clicker. how fun would that be?

eres mia by romeo santos w suguru. yeah.

i think the scariest part of just like. the baseline, fundamental parts of asylum therapist! suguru is the origins of his obsession if that makes sense??

(referring to the au i established in this and this oneshot :]])

like this man truly, truly believes that you’re an angel just because you were able to see through his charm. you saw the darkness in his eyes — in his smile — that he always tried so hard to hide… but you. you saw it from the first time you ever met him. even when you’re sedated and your judgement is clouded, you know the sort of evil in his heart.

you knew him better than anyone within the first half hour of knowing him and you weren’t scared. you threatened him. for someone as damaged — as delusional — as suguru geto, that’s the biggest sign of divinity that you could’ve given him. why wouldn’t he want to keep his angel safe?

and even if you are an angel, he knows you were given to him as a punishment. too much of a good thing is bad for you and suguru is convinced that you are that good thing, that his indulgence in you will surely lead to his fall. knowing that, who could blame him for stalling his inevitable demise? if he was to die by your hands at least let let him hold those hands for the time being. even death row prisoners get a final meal, right?

now to you, suguru geto is the devil incarnate. you don’t believe he was some “divine punishment” (hell, you barely believed you deserved the worldly punishment given to you), but he was… something.

to have a man fully take away your power, make you weak… he had to die, that was your only option. even if you tried to escape you know he’d only use that as an excuse to restrain you even more when he caught you again (when. not if.)

you were smart, you had a plan. you just had to wait it out.

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 no omg i tripped!! i tripped and i fell and this fell out of my pocket!!!!! oh no how convenient and conspicuous oh no!!!!!!!!!! ><

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

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!!!! ^^;

my current wip teehee i hope yall like medical malpractice!!!! ^^ (and delusional yandere suguru!!!!!)