Making The Friends List Post Rn But I’m Much Much Too Lazy To Ask For All Of Ur Pfps Thru Dms Rn So
making the friends list post rn but i’m much much too lazy to ask for all of ur pfps thru dms rn so ur all getting sanrio charas :pp
More Posts from M1stm3 and Others
“(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!!!!!)
god i need that loser inside of me NEOWWWW
I'm so fucking normal about this...
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.
LET ME KISS EVERY CREVICE OF YOUR BRAIN PLEASE I BEG I PLEAD someone sedate me please(suguru)
look away from me mist im losing my shit rn but i still wanna make a good first impression
HIIIIIII NAE ML OMG!!!!!!! i started fanning myself like a damsel in distress as soon as i saw this EEEEEEE giving u the biggest kiss rn ur the cutest
cw for drug mention :3
i need to stop hitting this cart cuz i’m thinking abt which meal each of my mutuals would be. if they were meals.
All Bark no Shame
m!reader x Gojo Satoru
smut; you didn't think joking about barking for an anime woman would turn into your boyfriend making you bark for him... for real.
✮ sub!bottom!reader, puppy play, barking, spitting, humiliation, looots of praise, dry humping, oral (reader receiving), anal fingering ✮
~ 2.2k words ~ MDNI | JJK Masterlist | a/n: HAPPY BDAY 2ME, this is very self indulgent 😔✌️🐾
You're almost surprised by Satoru's patience, once again listening to your rambles about Chainsaw Man, his eyes dancing from your eyes to your lips occasionally. Your position is familiar, comfortably seated on your boyfriend's lap, talking almost nonstop about another detail you had noticed upon another rewatch of the anime - so engrossed you don't even notice Satoru's keen hands exploring the moldable skin of your waist.
"We should watch it together sometime," he agrees with your suggestion, charmingly grinning, "who knows, maybe I'll enjoy it even more than you."
You scoff, almost offended by the idea. "No way, I'm the biggest Chainsaw Man fan out here."
This sparks the sorcerer's competitive nature, his chin lifting with mock arrogance. "Is that a challenge, angel? I bet I can out-fan you in no time," he teases, fingers slipping higher, claiming more of your body. The suggestive nature of it is yet to be discovered by you.
"Satoru," your voice takes on a jokingly serious tone, your eyes locked on his, "I'm so down bad, I'd bark at the screen for Makima. There's no way you can outdo that."
He laughs, not fully surprised by the statement, but intrigued nonetheless. You're pulled closer, a small hum leaving Satoru's lips. "I don't know, baby, I can get pretty down bad myself when I want something..." There's a glint in his eyes, one that you recognize immidiately, goosebumps following the realization. He leans over to speak into your ear, his voice an irresistibly deep vibration, causing your body to react immidiately. "And what I want right now is to hear you bark like a good little dog for me."
What? You blink at him, unsure if what your boyfriend just said is really what he just said. Satoru's fingers trailing to your lower back feel like hot coals being pressed against you. "Bark for... you?"
He smirks, clearly loving your reaction. "Yes, for me, baby. You said you'd bark for Makima, so why not for me, hm?" He bites his lip, your eyes locked on the sight, unable to look away. With a deeply sultry voice, Satoru adds, "Come on, give it a try, pet. Be a good boy and bark for me."
Your lids feel heavy with arousal, although trying to hide just how much the sudden tone and topic of conversation makes you feel. You can't fully believe Satoru is for real asking you to bark. "Really?" your voice sounds small, embarrassingly hopeful.
The sorcerer enjoys this, chuckling at your reaction. His fingers press low on your back, both encouragingly and more taunting, provoking you to slip into more embarrassment. "Yes, really. I want to hear you bark like a good puppy, okay? Can you do that, sweetheart? For me?"
Your face feels like it might as well explode with how warm your skin is, a deep urge to oblige murmuring through your insides, battling the rational part of your brain, warning you'd never recover from this humiliation. But Satoru is being enticingly sweet like this wasn't something embarrassing at all, and his act of nonchalance is very convincing.
You avert your face with your lip trapped underneath your teeth, fighting a tingling compulsion to say 'no'.
"W-woof?"
A wide grin spreads on Satoru's lips, completely ignoring the way you're cringing at yourself. His hand pats your head while genuine coos fall from his lips, his eyes big and curious like a kid discovering a new toy to play with. "There you go, puppy, that was so good," he grins, wide and excited, his hand moving to cup your jaw, "now how about you do that again, hm? And do it on the floor, baby. Sit."
He's commanding you like an actual dog, and you're so turned on you can barely breathe.
Your movement is clumsy, like you're controlling your body from the outside. You slide off Satoru's lap and find yourself on the cold floor, feeling even more exposed so far from Satoru without the comfort of his body under yours. On your knees, slightly spread, you're subconsciously replicating a position you might or might not have seen in a few secretly watched videos.
"That's it, good boy." Satoru is still grinning, powerfully looking down at you, spreading his legs wide. "You look so good on your knees, angel. Who knew you were such a good little puppy?"
You're unsure if you should feel embarrassed or proud, relishing in the enticingly sweet praise from Satoru and fully submitting to the role he seems to enjoy you so much in. And it feels good too, turning off your brain and doing what you're told without thinking too much about it - with true doglike loyalty.
"Now repeat it. Bark for me."
"Woof..." It comes easier this time, not quite confident yet, not natural, but the hurdle you have to jump to push the sound from your throat is significantly smaller. You're not sure how to feel about that progression. You're also not sure if you should be putting this much thought into it at all.
Satoru looks so proud it makes your stomach flutter, a deep-rooted need to please him more taking seed in your guts. "That's my good pup," he praises, leaning forward with a confident smile, and he grabs the back of your head, forcing you to stay in place. "You'd do anything I tell you right now, wouldn't you?"
You realize you're slipping maybe a little too far into your role when you curiously cock your head at him, caught in his crystal blues. You nod, and he grins dangerously.
"Good, baby. Now, open wide for me. Let me see that pretty mouth."
To your surprise, you oblige without hesitation - without thinking about it. You feel exposed but comfortably so, your tongue darting out the slightest bit. Perfectly obedient and trembling in anticipation. Satoru's thumb slips into your mouth, pressing downwards lightly.
"You're such an obedient pet, angel," he murmurs, all of his attention on you. "Would you like a treat, hm?"
Your boyfriend's voice sends you into overdrive, every muscle tense in anticipation. You nod, barely even registering the movement. Satoru removes his thumb before promptly spitting in your mouth.
You can barely react before the wetness spreads on your tongue, the action so quick and sudden, and as shocking as it is degrading. You're equally mortified and excited, feeling his saliva claim the land beyond your teeth, a familiar taste filling your senses. Is this really happening? And why do you want more!? Your eyes find Satoru's, both of you equally stunned by the feelings his action stirs.
"Swallow."
Your dick twitches, painfully hard under the tone of his command. Everything feels hot as his spit slides down your throat, and heat only grows when Satoru chuckles, sitting back on the couch, never taking his eyes off you. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?" The question feels horribly exposing.
You open your mouth to respond, courageously honest when he stops you, "Ah, ah, puppy. Dogs don't speak."
Your throat feels tight, quiet for a contemplating moment. "Woof." It's confident this time but it still feels impossible to hold eye contact. Your face burns and so does your crotch, overflowing with need.
Satoru bursts out in a grin, visibly proud, nearly chuckling, "That's it, baby! Good boy."
If you had a tail, it would be wagging.
Your attention shifts when Satoru's leg suddenly moves, one now stretched out, like... an invitation? Your eyes dart to his. He couldn't possibly be asking you to... hump him?
"Don't be shy, angel. You know what to do."
Do you know what to do?? Your body seems to, moving before you've fully consented. But consent follows in the form of a humiliated moan as soon as Satoru's shin presses against your pants, an unbearably warm friction right against your pulsating shaft. Satoru just smiles and only a soft hue of red over his sharply shaped cheeks betrays how feral he is for this. For you like this.
"Start humping, darling. Like the needy little dog you are," he instructs, sickly sweet, equally condescending, and all over electrifying. And you follow, hips shy at first, your face equally so, bowed and hidden and so so warm from embarrassment. But it feels good. Scarily good, especially with your boyfriend's eyes like lasers of ice burning on every surface he sees.
Desperate, your hips pick up pace, they grind harder, soon without restraint, shame lost somewhere with that final bark. And Satoru loves it, beaming with pride, power, and dominance, his hand reaching for your hair, fingers tangling and pulling. You don't want to, but defiance isn't an option now - so Satoru sees you, blissed, flushed, drooling like a mutt, eyes rolling back when you come.
It's way too premature, like you're 18 again and hormonal, like Satoru is your first and you can't control the moods and bursts of your body. But you're not a hormonal teenager and Satoru isn't your first, instead, you're this, and what's making you see white is only your boyfriend's leg, still and indifferent under your humping.
It's so humiliating, you feel like you orgasm forever. And Satoru laughs. Cruel only in a way, but mostly fond. Your legs are jelly, your whole body shakes, wet and disgusting, you feel like crying. Satoru pulls you up, and the look in his eyes makes everything bad disappear, your cheeks anew blooming with warmth but this time not from shame but from tenderness.
"Did my leg feel that good, hm?" he muses, still smiling, softer now than before. You can only nod as he lays you down on the couch, crawling on top of you, making you feel small but so protected, engulfed by his warmth, your dick still pulsating, somehow still hard amidst the stickiness surrounding it.
He hums in acknowledgment, leaning down to kiss your neck, a small lick to your jaw, a nibble of the skin. "I have something that'll feel even better, puppy," he mumbles, slowly inching his hands toward your pants, slender fingers slipping just past your waistband, evoking a gasp, pretty and almost innocent.
You whine when he pulls your pants downwards, revealing the mess you made only with the friction of Satoru's shin. He eyes it, fondly with a small grin, shamelessness somehow making you more shy now, body buzzing with humiliation. He follows the pull of his eyes, soon positioned between your bent, now naked legs, your boyfriend's lips visibly hungry.
You gasp when he dives down, tongue already anticipating your taste, now dragging over the length of your shaft. Satoru is so warm and so all-engulfing, your lungs struggle to deliver proper oxygen intake, and lightheadedness joins the thrill of his lips now wrapped around you. His white hair is soft, familiarly grounding as you grab it, not to push him closer, but to keep your consciousness from slipping too far.
He hums, enjoying your taste, enjoying your pulsation inside his mouth - maybe too much. Satoru is way too good at this, taking you deep, his head bobbing in a rhythm that has your eyes roll back, seeing the stars in your skull. And not once does he look away, almost cruelly never allowing a second to breathe outside of his intense gaze.
You cry out when he pulls away, panting while looking down. Is he teasing you, or is the sudden retreat for another purpose? You catch him just when he draws his own fingers from his mouth, wet with saliva and your essence, and your dick twitches embarrassingly high right in front of his face as he teasingly slow reaches down until you feel him press against your entrance.
He watches you wolf-like when pushing into you, two at once like a challenge. You pass humiliatingly easy, thighs tensing and daring to close when you feel him in you, searching, demanding. Your back arches, muscles quivering, every nerve ending on fire, burning like Satoru's fingers are made from coals, and you moan louder than ever before when he wraps his lips around you again. Your hand in his hair grips tight, pulls, no pushes... you're not even sure.
"'m gonna cum, gonnacum, Satoru, ah- S-sa-" You can't finish your plead, interrupted by a sudden, painfully intense white flash. Every muscle strains like it might rip, your lips parting for choked gasps and pathetic whimpers. Satoru's fingers massage you through, relentlessly upwards until you're gasping for air, thighs trying to close on him. His mouth pulls away, your semen swallowed as soon as it came.
He grins, proud, of you or himself, you don't know - can't know with the intense fog clouding any thought you could possibly muster. He moves upwards now forcing your thighs apart with his hips to meet your face, still beaming. "Baby," he coos, playful like you're not almost drooling from that orgasm, "I don't think you ever came that hard."
You barely respond with a hum, broken, spent, and somewhere embarrassed. You even struggle to focus your eyes on Satoru, drowsily looking upwards into his face, blood droning in your ears. He leans down for a kiss you can't really reciprocate but he doesn't mind.
"Will you pass out if we get you tail and ears?" he chuckles before there's a glint in his eyes and he leans over, close to your ear, a suggestion said like a secret, "what about a collar, puppy dog...?"
Y’all can find it cringe or get mad that some writers make a literal fictional character use a certain pet name all you want bc “hE’s jApAneSe hE wOuldN’T sPweAk lIke DaT🤓😡🤬🤬😤” well guess what? He wouldn’t speak fluent English in the first place, would probably be attracted to women from his country only, wouldn’t be a drug dealer, a cop, an Onlyfans content creator, a frat boy, a nerd, a mob boss, an actual good father, a CEO, a Chernobyl reactor or whatever the fuck either. But even though it’s headcanon and in some cases, it wouldn’t even be accurate with the fact that hE’s JaPanEse, y’all still enjoy that. You know why? Because it’s fan👏🏾fictions👏🏾about👏🏾a👏🏾fictional👏🏾character👏🏾
You can dislike it, it’s only normal and it’s only human but using his ethnicity and assuming how someone who doesn’t even exist would speak bc you don’t like something is hypocritical af when y’all are the same ppl liking the content mentioned above.
If you don’t like a specific content, go about your day, if it’s problematic, call it out if you want to. But don’t get all pissy and call out the same thing you’re enjoying. Thank you.
WE R OURPLE
dyeing my hair purple today :p
