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?
my bsf sent me this tweet and said “🫵 WRITING PROMPT” so i said suguru fucking a non sorcerer obviously
cw’s: dubcon, slightttt coercion (he fucks u as payment :]), and degradation (obvsss)
mdni obvs!! ^^
he’d be so pissed, fucking you like you’re less than human — because to him, that’s exactly what you are.
we all know how suguru sees non-sorcerers, so when he feels this almost nasty pang of desire towards you he feels like he’s going insane. you had come to him just like every other piece of scum, close to tears and begging for his help with some “invisible force” that was tormenting you.
you had a pretty nasty curse attached to you, so when he exorcised it you felt the weight being lifted off of your shoulders and you almost sobbed at the relief you felt. you were pretty, that was hard for even suguru to deny. his body didn’t deny it either and suddenly he was extremely grateful for the thick fabric of his robes.
it was purely coincidence that you had to come back a couple weeks later, right?
you were so apologetic the second time around, insisting on donating to his organization for the inconvenience. he only refused your offer, claiming that next time he would take your payment. you only tilted your head in confusion.
“‘next time’?” your voice was pretty without even trying. airy and soft and so oblivious as to what was currently happening to you.
“ah, well these things tend to be quite… stubborn. you understand, don’t you?” how were you supposed to refute his logic?
you accepted his words without argument, simply nodding in response. you thanked him one last time before leaving. he attached one last curse to you. weaker than the first but stronger than the second. the usual routine.
despite his forewarning, you were even more apologetic this time around. it’s fine though! now was the time for you to finally pay him back.
“you’re not special, you understand me? you—” he pushed your head down so you were in a mean arch, a small sob leaving you at the new angle. his mushroomed tip was mercilessly tapping against the spongey spot inside of you, every thrust forcibly taking the breath out of your lungs.
“— you’re scum. just a stain on this earth and a burden to every sorcerer you come across.” he growled by your ear. you honestly had no idea what he was talking about, but how were you supposed to dwell on that when he was pounding into you like that?
he gazed down at you, at your teary eyes and swollen lips. he hadn’t even kissed you, refusing to share such an intimate act with someone so much lower than him.
he didn’t feel nearly as disgusted as he was expressing. if anything, he felt a nauseating coil of fondness settle in his stomach. you were just so pretty. he would’ve thought you were an angel if it weren’t for the differences in status.
his hand gripped at the back of your hair, wrenching your top half upwards so his lips were by your ear when he leaned forward. “i could kill you on a whim, i should kill you. you’d be better off dead.” he gritted by your ear. you believed him.
“why don’t you thank me for keeping you alive, hm? for letting you live to see another day.” his voice took on that sweet tone he used to use with you, the same one that pushed for you to come back whenever you needed assistance. the same one that refused your money out of kindness. that gentle, flirtatious facade that hid his distaste for your kind so easily.
your nose crinkled in a small grimace as you tried to obey his demand, stammered ‘thank you’s leaving your lips like a prayer. the warmth in his stomach only grew at your compliance, which only seemed to piss him off more. why was he feeling such adoration for a non-sorcerer? it was scary sickening.
his thrusts slowly started losing their rhythm, his touches becoming more desperate than mean. “fuck— why can’t you just die? it’d make everything—” his voice broke before he took in a deep breath in an attempt to steady it. “— it’d make everything so much easier.”
“please just die. please.” his words broke off into a whimper as he filled you up, his pelvis pressed flush to your ass as if he was trying to keep himself as deep as possible.
he glanced down at his softening cock, his breaths ragged as he spread your lips apart to get a better look at how your pussy greedily took him in.
he couldn’t kill you if you had the chance of getting pregnant with his child, could he? he’d just have to keep you around now, what a pity. oh well.
69 followers yall ty for this honor of having the funny number 🙏
this is the post that inspired the choso thing btw :3 immediately thought of my cutie patootie angel boy when i saw it
i can’t get over boys saying “thank you” during sex. in response to praise or to pleasure. i just love it.
sometimes a theme recurs in your work without your permission. and sometimes it reaches a threshold where you're like. well now i think this is saying something about me against my will. don't know what though
this is all i’m good for to my family now smh my head ://///
now playing…
angel by massive attack
↺ |◁ II ▷| ♡
yandere asylum therapist! suguru x reader
my first ever dark content/yandere oneshot aaaaaa!!! plsss thoroughly go through the cw’s before reading ^^;
cw’s!!: non-consensual drugging, mentions of needles/syringes, medical malpractice, descriptions of violence (gutting, beating someone to death, etc.), mentions/romanticization of cannibalism, blood eating, medical abuse (???), gn! reader, no use of y/n, uhhhh freaky suguru. like he’s actually crazy (but so are u) and uhhh i think that’s it?? ^^;
wc: 1.3k (what.)
“how have you been feeling?” your therapists voice is soft, just barely loud enough for you to hear. it’s like he’s trying to grasp at any sense of normalcy, as if any of this was normal. your head feels like it’s filled with cotton when you move to look at him, a deadly look in your dazed, slow-blinking eyes.
he completely disregards your glare with nothing but a growing smirk, shifting to adjust your position on his lap. “i see you’ve taken well to the sedatives.” his cold hand grazes your bare arm as he speaks and you have to resist the urge to use all of the strength you have left to throw yourself onto the floor just to get away from him. you decided against it. you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you like that.
suguru’s a charming man. every nurse, therapist, and criminal in this hellhole of an institution knew that. maybe that’s why he clung to you like this. you saw through him, had threatened to knock his teeth out just because you found his smile unsettling in the preliminary meeting (“a convenient way to find your perfect fit!” is what one of the brochures had read).
a few weeks later he was your primary therapist. the only one allowed to see you for sessions and the only one able to prescribe what medicine you took.
this time it was a strong sedative administered by needle, only given to you the one day a week you saw him for your “sessions”. he seemed to enjoy this one, considering how he hadn’t switched the prescription in almost a month (though you were sure he was upping the dose every week, there was no other explanation for the way the syringe seemed to get more and more full every time you saw the nurses holding it).
it’s only now that he seemed to notice the narrow-eyed expression you were giving him. “aw, don’t look at me like that… it’s for my safety, angel. i can’t have you lashing out and hurting me, can i?” his palm rests on your cheek and as much as you will the muscles in your neck to jerk away from his touch, it still doesn’t work. only a small grunt leaves you and that sound only heightens the amusement in his eyes.
“m’gonna fuckin’ kill you…” you manage to strain out. you despise how weak your voice sounds. you despise the way his eyebrow quirks up in interest in response to your threat. you despise how his voice comes out a low, patronizing purr when he asks “oh, are you?” because he knows you will. he knows that if he lowers your dose you won’t hesitate to hunt him down. he’s seen your files, he knows.
you let out a shaky breath at his words, that deadly glare in your eyes never faltering as your head nods in response to his question (though he’d barely constitute it as a nod, more like a subtle twitch of your muscles). “m’gonna gut you… cut you alllll the way from your bellybutton to your fuckin’ throat…” you can feel the delirium from your medication settling in when you’re halfway through speaking, but that doesn’t stop you.
“how gruesome.” is all he hums, a deep, twisted glint of admiration in his gaze. “you’ve certainly grown more creative.” the pad of his thumb presses into your bottom lip as he speaks. he seems almost satisfied with your violent description, like you’d just given him the greatest gift he could possibly ask for (to him, it was).
he couldn’t help but feel touched by your words, how you planned something particularly torturous just to bring him as much pain as possible. the way you hurt people — at least before you were admitted — was concise and unmeditated. someone made you lose your temper so you hurt them, plain and simple as that. you were only able to plead insanity because of the way you “blacked out”, only noticing the soreness in your arms (and the brain matter in your hair) after you had beat a man to death.
so for you — a patient with uncontrollable violent outbursts — to plan something specific just for him? oh, he could feel the pleasant chill rolling down his spine. how would you do it, suguru wondered. would you steal a scalpel from the nurses or a knife from the kitchen? would the way you cut him open be clean — planned, even — or would you just hack at his skin until you were satisfied? he could almost imagine the way you’d pin him down (not like you had to, he’d let you see his insides if you asked politely enough) and run the cool metal over his abdomen before he felt the sharp contrast of the warmth of his blood trickling down his skin. he could only hope he would be alive long enough to see the crimson tainting the pretty skin of your hands, getting under your nails and sinking into the grooves of your palms, absorbing every drop of him.
suguru was so lost in his fantasies that he didn’t notice the way you had squinted at his far away expression, a muscle in your jaw giving a small twitch. maybe if you…
suguru also didn’t notice the way you had managed to slowly pry your jaw open, the tip of his thumb now resting against the ridges of your bottom row of teeth. at least, he didn’t notice until you miraculously willed your jaw to snap shut, the metallic taste on your tongue bringing you a primal sense of satisfaction (you would’ve preferred to bite the the tip of his thumb clean off to teach him a lesson, but this would do).
and oh, you would’ve laughed in his face if you could when you heard that strangled little gasp leave his lips. you relished in the way he watched you with a dumbfounded look, his usually piercing eyes opened wide in surprise.
your victory was disturbingly short lived, though. his shock quickly turned into something almost giddy with the way his eyes seemed to light up like a child who was just handed their favorite toy. he forced his thumb deeper into your mouth, his head cocking to the side almost observantly. “how do i taste, angel? hm?” there’s a crazed look in his eyes. you feel like you’re getting dissected. “maybe you should eat me after you cut me open, yeah? i’d let you, you have my permission.” he’s all too eager to give you more ideas, more ways to torture him even after death.
his arm snakes around your middle so he can press a palm to your stomach. “i’d be with you forever… wouldn’t you like that, angel?” he murmurs lowly by your ear. you don’t have the strength to answer anymore, your eyes blinking slower… and slower…
he holds you tight as you slump against him, (the sedatives make you intensely drowsy… it doesn’t help that he had prescribed you double the recommended amount) making a mental note to up your dosage once again. he can’t risk you building up some sort of immunity, can he? if the force of your bite was any indication, he’d have to find a new medicine for you within the next month or two (not like it was any hassle on his end. if anything, he was excited to see your adorably pathetic attempts to brute force your way through the daze of a new drug).
he just had to keep you here with him… you’d learn to love it.
to love him.
do u guys wanna….. wanna see my current wip………
mdni :p
choso thanking u when he cums in ur pussy….. he’s all whiny and flushed, unshed tears stinging his eyes as he thrusts into you. he’s gripping at whatever part of your body he could get to, your tits, your tummy, your thighs — his brain can’t decide what to do with his hands even while he’s in the throes of pleasure. it was cute, you would’ve teased him about it if you weren’t in the same state as him.
“fuck, i’m gonna-” his breath hitches and cuts him off, though you knew what he meant. you could feel him about to pull out and let out a whine of protest, wrapping your legs around his waist so he stopped moving. he looked at you with a confused expression, looking almost akin to a puppy with the way he cocked his head to the side slightly.
his eyes widened when you begged him to cum inside of you in that pretty voice of yours. how could he ever refuse you?
suddenly your knees are being pressed to your chest and his thrusts become more erratic, desperately chasing his high so he can do what you asked. he’s babbling almost incoherently, completely pussydrunk. “fuck- thank you, baby, thank you so much… gonna fill you up so good, i promise.”
he hides his face in your neck when he cums, whispering thank you’s into your skin like a mantra. he stays like that for a second, his weight a pleasant warmth as he slumps against you while recovering from his high.
“can i… can i do that again? please?” his voice is so soft. tentative, as if he was afraid of you rejecting him. you only nod in response, still catching your breath from the last round.
how could you ever say no when he was so polite?
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!!!!!)