suguruholic

MDNI.

I've seen him depicted as brutish and uncaring soooo much in some fics. Honestly, I feel like Suguru is more of the dotting but strict type. Like an overvearing parent.

The kind of yandere that is absolutely NOT nonchalant, so far from it in fact. In my perfectly happy (more like mentality ill) brain, Suguru Geto is the type of yandere that practically HAS to be up your ass almost 24/7 (literally too ifykyk).

True that. If this is related to "My neighbor Suguru" lol

Wc: 1.8k

Cw: dubcon (?) —Neither parties are aware, so this could be dubious (no direct contact is made however), doll fucking, stalking, panty stealing, slightly yandere Geto, general creepy behavior, super ooc Suguru Geto.

Based on this post.

The ticking of the clock on the wall was enough to drive Suguru mad. Relentless, monotonous noise filled in the silence of his apartment. His best friend Satoru had bailed on him last minute for their scheduled game night. Which has left Suguru with no other companion for the evening.

Usually the logical thing to do, would be to concede with the familiar embrace of boredom, before eventually falling asleep alone. Usually, Suguru would be inclined to agree —yet with the addition of his new neighbor, he's been forced to reevaluate his former evening routine.

If there was one way Suguru could describe you, it would be cute, shy even. Of course you didn't know this, he's yet to even actually speak to you directly. No, Suguru has instead resigned himself to watching you from afar.

Seeing as you seem to have no friends or at least any that come over to your apartment often, He's deduced that it's likely you're single, and living alone.

Suguru shifts a few times on the couch, downing out the sounds of his ticking clock, and listening in for any sounds of your eventual arrival. The sound of keys jingling is enough to rouse him from the couch, and drift towards his front door.

Crouching down slightly, he leans into his peephole, where the watching really begins. At least in Suguru's mind that's all it is. Just a habit he's picked up out of his curiosity about his reclusive neighbor across the hall.

You shift on your feet, from one foot to another, you're all but dying to get out of your shoes by now. You should've been home sooner, key word being "should've", because right when you were about to wrap up your shift, and close shop, another customer had waltzed right in.

Owning a small Cafe had always been a childhood dream of yours, something cute, quiet and peaceful, not too far out, and not too deep in the city either. Either way, you've had your fair share of annoying customers and people screaming in your face over any minor inconvenience regarding coffee and sugar. Though, today was particularly hard. Shoes too rough on your heels, uniform just a tad too tight, and your hair not sitting right, no matter what you did. You're more than ecstatic to end the day on your couch, watching TV, in the loosest clothes you can find. That is, as soon as you can finish fumbling with your keys.

Something prickles at your skin, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Its that feeling again, it always starts as soon as you move to unlock your apartment door, like you're being watched. Your head tips slightly to quickly glance at the door behind you, only to be met with its familiar pale green paint, black numbering, and inconspicuous peephole as usual. It doesn't settle your nerves, but it's enough to quell the immediate anxiety...that there isn't an age murder sneaking up on your while your back is turned, or something else as grisly.

Swallowing your anxiety, the door creaks open, and within seconds, you're on the other side of it, breathing out a sigh of relief.

Suguru huffed, before letting his shoulders drop. He hadn't realized how tense he had gotten, but for a moment he was sure you'd found him out. Something about being directly confronted with his own strange behavior and possibly risking your perception of him souring, was enough to make his stomach twist with anxiety.

°•~~~~~~~~~~•°

Stealing panties is something Suguru had sworn off since his high-school days. Even then, it was more for fun, rather than anything truly perverted. Just more of his and Satoru's teenage antics, that eventually got then both after school trash duty —or whatever else Yaga could come up with. But here he is, standing over your dresser drawer, digging through your underwear like the freak he knows himself to be.

Sneaking into his neighbor's apartment wasn't what he had initially intended to do. At first it was only to insure you had properly received your package. That was unceremoniously deposited in front of his door instead of yours. Then, when he realized your door was unlocked, he let his curiosity get the best of him. Admittedly, not his brightest idea.

The image of his cute neighbor wearing these had made him painfully hard. Given that he likely didn't have much time to linger, Suguru couldn't do much beyond palm himself, and hide away his new treasure into his pants pocket. Suguru slips out like nothing is amiss, taking the stolen panties with him.

°•~~~~~~~~~~•°

You're still not back from work, and Suguru's ever present companion —the dreaded boredom, bogs him down enough to almost make his eyelids heavy. Eventually, you'd be home, but that wasn't for another 3 hours, leaving Suguru with nothing better to do, if his current object of obsession affection, hasn't returned home.

A ring at his door caught his ear, and before he knew it, he was already on his feet, reaching for his front door handle.

He hadn't expected much, but this was beyond his expectations by bounds. Laying on his mat, was a small, stitched doll. It's seams where neatly pulled together, it's fabric was clean, and it's button eyes still shone. By all means, it didn't appear to be an old doll, someone's garbage that had somehow made it to his front door step. Most of all, it chilled him to see, the doll bore an uncanny resemblance to you.

Was this some kind of trick? Had you found out about the panties, and decided to get back at him? This was certainly an eccentric way to go about it.

Reaching down Suguru picked up the small doll, before disappearing into the comfort of his apartment again.

Suguru sagged down onto his couch, running his fingers over the doll's intricate stitching, it was almost cute. In its own way. The resemblance to his neighbor was as eerie as it was intriguing. He wonder just how far the similarities went.

Blush dusted Suguru's cheeks as he sat forward slightly. This was like pre school all over again, when he'd undress his sister's dolls (more out of curiosity than anything), except this time it isn't so innocent.

Suguru's fingers fumbled with the stitched dress on the doll, hastily pulling it down, a thrill shot done his spine, when the fabric eventually gave way and tore.

Suguru whistled. "Wow."

Whatever sick fuck made this, had gone all out. Not only did his new little companion come fully equipped with a fully sewn in pussy, it's insides were lined too. Like a plush pocket pussy.

He wasn't sure whether to gasp in horror or awe at the sheer amount of detail. Ultimately, he didn't chose the latter, rather, thick fingers shoved their way inside the small opening spreading the plush insides of the doll, and testing its duality.

The bell jingled as another customer stumbled through your door, and to your counter. Before you knew it, you were already on your aching feet again.

"Hi, how can I help you?", left your lips with practiced ease.

"Your regular, cream, and sugar. Oh, and I'll take one of those." The little old lady pointed a wrinkled finger at the display case, a simple strawberry tart.

Nodding your head, you scratched down her order, before reaching for a paper bag, and shuffling to the back to begin her coffee.

A sharp, almost prodding pain bloomed between your legs within seconds, causing the milk to slip from your hands and spill over onto the counter. "Shit!" You cursed, doubling over as the stretching pain spread, like something unseen was twisting and stretching your pussy. Wetness begin to bloom, as heat quickly pooled in yoir lower belly. The initial pain slowly morphed into pleasure. Then, just like that it stopped all together, the sensation vanished.

Catching yourself on the counter, you bent over to clean the spilled milk.

Suguru let out an unsteady breath as he withdrew his fingers from the doll. Unbuckling his pants, Suguru hastily shrugged off his jeans, and boxers, freeing his already hard cock. Precum dripped freely from the flushed tip. Suguru gave himself two courtesy pumps, before lining himself up with the small entrance of the doll.

His head tipped back with a groan, as he slammed himself inside the plush, till the seams around its sewn crotch where practically busting. Wrapping a veined hand around the stuffed plush, Suguru began pumping his dick into the doll. Precum soaked its insides, drooling out and splattering across his muscled thighs with each pump. Suguru shuddered, chewing his bottom lip, as he twisted his wrist, using the doll like a fleshlight. Suguru tensed, before spilling into the plush. Embarrassment, and post nut clarity quickly weighed down on his shoulders soon after.

Not only did you eventually just give your customer their coffee and tart for free, but you also had to close up shop early, and speed home. As soon as your feet hit the soft, familiar comfort of your carpet, you took off for your bathroom. Hooking your thumbs around the band of your panties, and tugging them down, a stream of sticky white followed, pooling into the center of your panties, and still leaving a stringy trail from yoir sore pussy.

The shower that followed was thorough, to say the least. You eventually chopped up your 'little' scene in the back of your Cafe, as cramps (you hope), and the following as discharge. Yeah, even you didn't believe that, but anything was better than no explanation at all.

°•~~~~~~~~~~•°

You're neighbor, you've found, was indeed very sweet. Suguru was caring, considerate, and overall a gentleman. You're not sure how you hadn't formally met him sooner.

Your date tonight was supposed to be perfect. You picked out a cute dress that hugged your curves, and complimented your skin tone beautifully. The restaurant was elegant, you're surprised Suguru could afford something as grand as this.

Suguru pulled out a seat for you, before taking his own across from you. "I hope you like it, I only wanted the best." He purred, sliding your menu closer towards you.

Your eyes skimmed through the menu, occasionally flicking up to take in Suguru's appearance, he'd cleaned up, hair in perfect place —a neat bun with his signature bang, and a clean suit.

Suguru cleared his throat. "You'll have to excuse me for a moment." He flashed you a small smile, before departing from the table in a hurried manner, and weaving through the other tables, and guests.

Pursing your lips, you picked yoir menu back up, planning on resuming your browsing, while your date busied himself in the bathroom, apparently.

A stretching sensation filled your pussy within minutes.

CW: Detailed depictions of death, gore, Geto is completely off his rocker here, Reader is dead for most of the story, super dark you have been warned. (Not beta read lol)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

It had been a terribly rainy evening. Grey clouds blotted out the sky, and rain came down like hail on your umbrella. The surrounding city scape was painted in melancholic blues and soft greens, mainly from the trees that hung over head of the sidewalks. Cars whipped by with little regard for the civilians unfortunate enough to be walking on the sidewalks nearby. One car in particular hit a small pot hole full of water, angering the old woman standing beside you at the cross walk, as you both were now soaked from head to toe.

Mina's message illuminated your phone with a soft buzz, as you fumbled around with your now drenched jacket, trying and failing to un jam it's rusty zipper. Slick fingers clumsy pulled at the tiny peice of metal. Your frustration making you accidentally break the zipper all together. "Fuck." You muttered, appalling the haggled women beside you, as she shot you a disapproving side-eye, one you pointedly ignored.

Your phone buzzed again. This time you answered. "Mina I'll text you in a minute, im almost home okay". You huffed out, as she finially relented, and hung up.

The red hand finially turned white, signaling it was finially time to cross. You jammed your phone into your pocket as soon as you stepped off the sidewalk. At least you tried to, before your beloved cellular device missed the safety of your jacket pocket by a millimeter, and clattered to the ground. The sign counted down the minutes, while you bent down to grab your phone and check the damage. A bike rushed by you, making you lose balance, clearly in a hurry to cross, as you slipped and hit the ground with your phone.

"Did you remember to pick up the ice cream?" Satoru's voice cracked through the static of Suguru's phone as he drove. "Yes, but you're breaking up Satoru" Suguru readjusted his grip on the steering wheel.

"Haha, must be that shitty cell service of yours, I told you you should've went with the same plan as me" Satoru laughed, and Suguru sighed. "I'll be home soon, love you." Suguru hung up after his husband bid his own farewells from the other end of the line. Tossing his phone into the passenger seat, Suguru sped up slightly, more or less in a rush to get home. It was his and Satoru's 5th anniversary.

They were married straight out of high-school. Satoru had helped pull him out of his depression, and been his shoulder to cry on during the whole thing. They had only grown closer, till eventually Satoru finially popped the question. Much to none of their friends surprise, (especially Shoko's) they were getting married. Satoru's family hadn't approved of course, and threatened to cut their own son out of their will. One talk with his old man, and he was quick to retract his threat all together, realizing he couldn't risk losing his prodigy of a son. Now years later, and they're still happily married.

The car picked up speed slightly once again, Suguru had to work overtime again, and his stop at the grocery store had already taken much longer than he expected. He was eager to get home. The road was completely clear, and most cars, had vanished somewhere behind him by now. A bend was quickly approaching, one mostly obstructed by the trees on both sides of the road.

He was clear to keep the same speed, until a shape in the distance on the crosswalk ahead caught his eye. Right on his next turn at the crosswalk, what looked like maybe a duffle bag, or some clothes, laid. It was hard to see through the heavy rain and his windshield wipers. The light had just turned green, and whoever was finished crossing settled on the other side.

Suguru hit his blinker, before the supposed duffle bag sat up. It was too late by then.

A sickening thud, then the crash of a windshield boomed in his ears, as his car veered off onto the sidewalk with a loud screeching swirl. Suguru's airbag depleted, as he rushed out of the car tripping over his own feet. His entire windshield had a massive indent, with shattered glass all over his hood. Laying almost 20 feet back was a women, sprawled out on the ground. At least from what he could tell, her limbs where all at wrong angles, jagged bones stuck out of skin, and her head was laying limply to the side. Blood was smeared across the asphalt like red paint. Suguru followed the grim trail.

His heart was pounding in his ears, ringing like a bell in his head. Each gasp of breath he took felt like inhaling glass. The closer he got the worse it looked. He was moving on nothing but adrenaline. Squeezing by the small crowd of people that had begun to gather around, Suguru all but fell to his knees. Trembling hands didn't know what to hold first. Her face was bloodied, hair stuck to her neck and face, matted with sticky blood and rain.

He removed her hair from her neck to check for a pulse, anything.

"Oh my god-" one woman muttered. "I'll call an ambulance!!" Another man began to back off. "NO!" Suguru's voice cut the man off, "She's still alive! I'll take her to the hospital myself" Suguru swore he could still feel your heart pumping, he could hear it even, if only faintly it was still something, it was proof of life. Suguru gathered your mangled form into his arms and darted to his car within seconds.

He wasn't thinking rationally he knew that, but he had to do something. Satoru and him both were more than loaded enough to take care of you, to pay for all of your medical bills, everything. He'd make this right, and then everything could just go back to normal again. Suguru pulled out, his car resiliently humming to life despite the damage. Satoru and his shared apartment was close enough, he'd worry about fixing his car later.

The car was pulling into the in building parking lot within minutes. Suguru had wrapped you in his coat, hiding most of the damage, and to warm your body. You were ice cold. He carried you bridal style to the elevator, before punching in the floor number.

The yellowish tint of the elevator light above had illuminated your face with an olive hue. Your jaw was slightly slack, and one of your eyes just barely hung open, from the way your head was tilted back. Suguru took a moment to stare at you, guilt quickly rising to the surface and making him frown even harder. He tapped his foot impatiently as the doors finially slid open.

Suguru rushed out, making a beeline for his and Satoru's apartment before anyone could come out and see him, and possibly call the police.

Satoru answered the door, grinning at the arrival of his husband, however when his blue eyes trailed lower, his smile fell from his face entirely. "Suguru what the fuck!?" Satoru stumbled back, before meeting Suguru's pleading eyes. His horror turned to confusion. "Please, Satoru I need your help." Suguru stumbled inside, barley kicking his shoes off, before gently depositing you onto the counch, with the kind of care a mother would have for a newborn. Satoru rushed over, to stand beside his husband. "What is this, what the fuck happened? Why haven't you taken her to the hospital yet?" Satoru's head whipped around to face Suguru. "Its- its a long story, please Satoru. We- I need to fix this. She's still alive." Suguru's pleading eyes reached his husband's. Satoru swallowed thickly before nodding and darting off to retrieve their immediate medical supplies. He'll have to call in a doctor as well.

The ticking on the wall felt like it was driving Suguru insane. Each soft noise matched the slow rhythm of your heartbeat. Satoru had helped to bandage the bulk of the damage, you hadn't moved or even flinched once. Medicine had dissolved on your tongue, before Suguru helped you to swallow it, by slowly pouring water from a bottle down your throat. But your heart still pattered faintly in his ears. Insistently so. He knew you're alive. Suguru's hand found yours. His large fingers interlocked with your smaller cold hand. "I'm so sorry." Suguru muttered, stroking your knuckles softly. Satoru watches from the doorway nearby.

The following days, Suguru had been convinced it was his life's mission to take care of you. Even going so far as to wash you, like you were his living doll. Satoru hadn't once enjoyed this, any of this. At first, when he phoned his private doctor Mr. Yamamoto to the apartment, the old man had wrinkled his brows at the scene before him. Satoru had stood over the man's shoulder the entire time, as he checked your pulse, while Suguru trembled like a guilty dog with you in his arms.

Suguru hadn't seen or heard whatever muffled conversation his husband and Mr. Yamamoto had. He rocked your still body like a broken child. Whispering his apologies.

The water was warm. Satoru sat, knees to his chest, and Suguru sat with his knees bent, and your limp form slotted against his chest. There was something nightmarish about the scene before him. His loving, and level headed husband, that has always been the voice of reason, (even to Satoru's own shenanigans) that he's known for almost 8 years now, was currently sitting across from him, a hollowed out look in his eyes, and a corpse laid against his chest. Horrific didn't even begin to describe it.

Satoru had been there for Suguru during his first psychotic break. Suguru had developed such a deep depression during the end of their high-school years together, that he had eventually fell into psychosis. Satoru had nursed him all the way through it, but this? This was something else entirely, and Satoru knew he was partly to blame for it getting this bad. He had paid off Mr. Yamamoto during his visit where Suguru couldn't whiteness it, just enough to keep his mouth shut. Thankfully (or not) you didn't seem to have any family that were going to be collecting you either, not one person had come looking. Satoru didn't think his husband would be able to handle the actual reality of this situation. You were long dead, you had been since he first arrived with you in his arms.

"Satoru?" Suguru crooned, smiling softly. Satoru's eyes snapped up at the sound of his husband's soft voice. "Yes..?" Suguru stroked your hair idly. "She wants you to wash her hair this time."

Satoru froze. "What?"

"Wash her hair, Satoru." Suguru repeated calmly.

Your scalp was stiff, and the roots of your hair where all but dead. Suguru smiled softly, like a lover in awe. A chunk of your hair fell out into the tub, Suguru didn't even flinch.

Satoru almost threw up, immediately he gagged, and Suguru frowned.

Shoving you away, Satoru jumped out of the tub, doubling over and vomiting his guts up in the toilet nearby.

"Don't pay any mind to him sweetheart..." Suguru murmured into your ear, pulling you back upright. Like a doll, he configured the mangled corpse back into position against his chest. Satoru hadn't really realized till now how much the color of the tub water had changed. It was murky. Bloodshot blue eyes trailed up to their mirror where a few flies had begun to linger.

Suguru never once moved, and never complained of a smell. He was perfectly content.

"Suguru...that thing- her! She's dead!" Satoru's raspy voice cracked, as he looked over his shoulder to his husband. He had to fix this. He had to snap Suguru out of it.

"She's not. She's not dead. I can still hear her heartbeat." Suguru lifted your corpse, pressing your chest to his ear, as if to test his theory. Thump, thump, thump. Just like he thought. Satoru, for once was wrong.

The bathroom light bulb flickered ahead. Suguru had complained in the past about it, that it was going to go out one of these days, and that he'd have to change it soon. He never did get around to doing that. Not before this happened, whatever this even is.

Guilt is a sick thing. It makes you irrational, emotional, frustrated. It drives many to their breaking points, frying every end of their nerves till there is nothing left. Satoru supposes that's what happened to his beloved husband. Suguru could only handle so many deaths, before he lost it completely. He blamed himself back in high-school when that little girl Riko had died, then when their underclassmen had soon followed in an ill fated accident of his own. Now this.

(Feel free to pick up this idea and make it your own, tag me if you do!)

/cw: horror elements, slight body horror

/word count: 571

Not beta read, we die like Geto

The shock and grief of loosing your husband was enough, but nothing could've prepared you for when he randomly arrived on your doorstep in the dead of the night.

His smile was the first thing you noticed. Stretched thin and pulled tight —utterly artificial. Completely unlike the Suguru you knew.

He complained of illness, and asked to be let inside in that familiar soothing coo of his. In your shocked stooper, you relented, stifling stepping aside to welcome your previously deceased husband inside.

You watched as he smoothly moved throughout your shared apartment, just like always. It should've felt right, but it didn't. It felt so wrong, because just 8 hours ago, you were staring down into his casket, where his pale corpse had been dolled up, ready for burial. Now you watch as he traces his fingers around the frames on your shared wedding pictures, and hums a soft tune. As if nothing was amiss.

"Suguru…?" You prompt, he turns half way with a hum. His smile doesn't reach his eyes. Your question dies on your tongue, as he tilts his head. "Yes dear?" He smiled a little wider, as if he knew exactly what you wanted to ask, but you and him both knew you didn't have the courage to say the words aloud —you're supposed to be dead.

"Are you hungry? Im starved." Suguru spoke softly. He made no move to go to the kitchenette, instead he stood there, like a looming shadow, staring. His silhouette was partially obscured by the shadows that stretched across the apartment walls. The shadows swallowed the hallway whole in inky blackness, and Suguru stood like an ominous cloud, obstructing any chance of you being able to see anything past himself and the darkness.

You had been getting ready for bed when he knocked, the comfort and familiarity of your sheets where just beyond your reach now. He stood there instead, breaking any doubts you had that this was all just a nightmare brought on by your grief. Instead you're being forced to confront the horrifying reality of the situation you've now found yourself in.

"Dear?" He repeats himself again.

You had zoned out. Suguru takes a step forward. The floorboard below creeks, long and drawn out. You take a step back, and he follows. That smile hasn't left his lips once.

"I'm so hungry. Don't you want to indulge me? Just a little…?" Suguru coaxed, as he backed you up against the nearest wall. Suddenly all options of escape have closed off, all at once. His hands slam beside either side of your head, with a resounding thump. A picture frame falls off the wall and shatters nearby. He doesn't even flinch, but you do.

"Suguru please-" a laugh cuts you off.

"Why are you begging my dove?" His body is too hot, even from here, it feels unnatural. He smells of iron and faintly of decay, you realize. "I've been thinking so much about you…when I was asleep. My beautiful wife… how much I'd miss you. I can't risk losing you again." His voice falls flat towards the end, as his smile finially falls from his lips.

The mask falls completely off. A scream rips from your throat, as he parts his lips, and a long slick tongue emerges. Suguru's hands dig into your sides, embedding themselves into your soft flesh.

There's this Geto x reader fic written from miminana's pov. Basically, Nanako and mimiko sneak into Geto's room when he's not home, and see he has a shit ton of pictures relating to reader, plastered all over his wall, like a shrine (it's assumed reader is dead). Mimiko and Nanako open his wardrobe and find an old crusty life sized doll, (pretty sure the doll was actually made by Geto, and has reader's corpse in it) Mimiko conplains about the smell and look of it, as well as the stitching. Afterwards they sneak back out, and are afraid to confront Geto about it, but Mimiko (?) eventually says something, and to their surprise Geto isn't actually that mad.... he rambles about his memories with reader obsessively from there.

That's basically the whole gist of it, I can't for the life of me find this fic anymore, or who wrote it!!! I remember reading it in late 2024(?) Or very early 2025.

(Under construction still)