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rxmye · 7 days

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" 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐉𝐎𝐂𝐊 — a confident athlete who turns into pathetic putty at the thought of you . . .

nsfw / sixteen + content / smut / gender neutral reader / yandere content / sub!yandere / masturbation / pervert yandere (he literally breaks into the locker room for your shit) / olfactophilia/osmolagnia (scent/smell kink) / dacryphilia (kink for crying) / breath play / yandere oc x reader

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: haven't wrote smut in awhile, so im a bit rusty . . .

Lucas dangled the keys in his hands, a grin playing on his face as he walked towards the locker room—using the key to unlock the door—it was pretty easy grabbing the keys from the janitor's room, not that this school was particularly secure with their locks. It would be pretty easy breaking in, if he tried hard enough . .

Lucas scanned the area, looking through each locker trying to find which one was yours . . he had your lock combination memorized, though he did get a little help from a friend in order to figure it out.

His hands reached for the clothes that you had left in your locker, lifting it up to his face, eyes going half lidded as he inhaled your intoxicating scent, he felt his face growing warm and his body growing weak. Lucas leaned down onto the lockers for support, almost losing balance as he slid down onto the floor.

Lucas pressed the flimsy piece of clothing further onto his face, engulfing himself in your smell—so much so that he could almost taste you—all the while his other hand travelled downwards, clumsily unbuckling his pants in a hurry . . hasty movements contradicted his rational mind, not bothering to care if he'd get caught.

He slid his pants down, just enough to reveal his semi-hard cock—a soft whine escaped him at the feeling of the cold air—his free hand now teasing his tip, as he relaxed his body, closing his eyes shut . .—imagining how disgusted you'd be seeing him in this pitiful state— . . that really turned him on, he cussed under his breath at how pitiful and pathetic his thoughts were . .

Lucas wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, slowly moving his hand up and down—his vision growing hazy—as he let out breathy sighs of pleasure—whines growing louder when he moved his hand faster.

Lucas stuffed the clothing he took, and pushed it into his mouth—drool escaped the corners of his mouth—blocking his ability make a sound, as he moved his hand faster around his cock—little tear droplets stinging his eyes, as he felt his legs shake slightly at the sheer pleasure—he used his now free hand to pinch his nose, closing his only source of air . . .

All he could taste was you, the clothing taking away all the moisture in his mouth, as tears begin to escape his eyes, saliva escaping the corners of his mouth, dripping onto his clothing—his legs began to convulse—his back arching slightly, as he finally came, all over the floor . . .

Lucas spat out the fabric, "fuck", the bell rang . . How is he gonna clean up this mess fast enough? . .

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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heartsforhavik · 2 months

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superfan! yandere boy x gn! popstar reader

✰ warnings: stalking, obsessiveness, breaking and entering, nsfw, masochist yandere, overstimulation, thigh riding, bondage, male masturbation, unhealthy behavior, average yandere tendencies, male yandere oc (he’s very pathetic and perverted, it’s giving “step on me” energy.) gender neutral reader

✰ a/n: heyyyyy guess who isn’t dead.. i literally open tumblr every 3 minutes i just haven’t been posting. but i’m hereeeee lol. here’s a random yandere oc post, sorry it’s not mortal kombat. (tbh i have faded away from my mk obsession and now i am obsessed with until dawn, the quarry, tlou, and rdr.)

part two here!

superfan! yandere boy that buys all of your merchandise and streams your music on loop 24/7. even while he sleeps.

superfan! yandere boy that commissions artists to draw you and him together in different styles. some of them may depict him on a cute date with you, and some are more explicit and depict you stepping on him or choking him.

superfan! yandere boy that sneaks into your concerts if he didn’t manage to buy a ticket. no matter how strong your security is, he will always manage to find a way in and pretend he's just a regular fan.

superfan! yandere boy that will even sneak onto your house and film you through your window for hours, and then he would go home and touch himself to the footage of you.

superfan! yandere boy that wants to buy meet-and-greet tickets to see you, and be able to feel your presence up close and be able to speak to you personally. but as much as he craves your attention, he knows he wouldn't be able to handle it and would crumble immediately the second you look him in the eyes.

superfan! yandere boy that pays people to stalk you and take pictures of you when he can't do it himself. especially ones when you have a wardrobe malfunction.

superfan! yandere boy that goes to sleep every night fantasizing and dreaming of you. his particular favorite wet dream is of you letting him ride your thigh, grinding against your skin as a desperate attempt to feel any friction on his cock. your hands would roam around his body as he relishes in your attention, no matter where you touch him. any small nudge or brush against his skin would set his heart on fire and oh no where'd his pants go-

superfan! yandere boy that thinks you could do no wrong. you said something offensive and got yourself cancelled? he is your number one defender and would be threatening your naysayers on the internet. he would even go as far as to learn to hack just so he could delete their accounts.

superfan! yandere boy that almost WANTS to get caught. he knows he wouldn't be able to handle your attention, so he avoids it, but a part of him wants to get caught and outed for his perverted, stalker ways. he wants to hear you cuss him out and degrade him. he wants to see the disgusted look on your face as he is exposed for everything he did. spit on him, kick him, treat him like vermin, he doesn't mind. he gets off on the thought of you punishing him. he has a particular fantasy where your punishment for him is by tying him up and overstimulating him until he is crying, whimpering, and almost fainting. but he would still beg for more. no matter how long it lasts. it could be a week long and he still wouldn't be satisfied.

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bunny-yan · 1 month

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so for the yandere king, will he ever get married to someone who isn’t reader?

He’ll hold it off for as long as he can, but don’t expect him not to take it out on you if he complains about it and you don’t give him the reaction he was expecting. TW: mentions violence, domestic abuse, mentions somnophilia, power imbalance, minors DNI

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You’d gotten your hopes up.

It’d been such a long time since you felt anything like it, but with whispers around every corner speaking of the king’s possible marriage, you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of freedom, of a life without the tyrant you called a king.

He had to produce an heir. It was an unavoidable duty his position demanded. The kingdom needed to be left with a future should anything unfortunate happen to their oh, so beloved king.

Sometimes, you wished that his misfortune would happen by your hands. If only to give him a taste of what you had to endure, but you shoved such thoughts away. It was harder to keep your composure when you entertained ideas you’d never be allowed to act upon. Or if you tried would cause more harm than good.

Others looked smug as you passed them in the long hallways, claiming you’d be thrown away by the king as soon as he married, and you prayed to the goddess that they were right. That he’d marry someone he could love and obsess over. That his violent affection would be directed at someone else for a change. Did it make you cruel, wishing that someone else would take your place? A part of you lacked the ability to care. If they were so desperate to tear you down, not realizing the hell disguised as paradise, you would be more than willing to let them have a taste of it.

The king’s marriage.

When the two of you were younger, he promised to hold the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. He’d spare no expense and it would be remembered as the happiest days of your lives. Remembered as the day of your union, the day you would promise to spend eternity together. You supposed that after killing all of your family members and gaining ownership of you, it didn’t really matter one way or the other how it happened, but you felt a small sense of relief that the monstrous event had been delayed.

The talk you had to endure was bad enough, but you could only imagine what the nobles would have to say if the King were to make your union official. You wouldn’t be the one who achieved every servant’s fairytale, no. You would be the peasant living above their station. The whore who sunk their claws into their sweet prince. The tramp who didn’t know their place.

You would dread every display of affection he would shower you with in public, knowing that despite his insistence of you remaining by his side, others too afraid to show their disdain in front of the King, there would undoubtedly be a moment where they would find you alone and without your shield you were vulnerable to their contempt.

But the idea of him living out that fantasy with another shifted something in you. You felt a slight upturn of your lips at the thought of him standing at the altar with a faceless figure as you packed what little things you truly owned and ran and ran and ran as far as your legs could carry you. The dull ache you’d become familiar with would burst, and you’d cry freely, laugh hysterically, and smile as if you had never forgotten how. That was what paradise sounded like.

Doors slamming open, the strange emotions fled from your body, replaced with instant unease at the sight of the king’s furious face.

You stood quickly to bow and greet the head of your kingdom.

“Leave us,” he said. Two words dismissing everyone from your chambers, holding so much power you feared they didn’t know what monster they were abandoning you to face alone. As you’d always had.

He sat on the plush couch with a heavy sigh, unbuttoning his shirt as he gave the order, “Pour me a drink.”

You didn’t hesitate to meet his demands. You got two glasses, knowing that he’d push you to join him, along with the liquor your Kingdom was famous for and he favored on particularly stressful days. Setting them down on the table, you tried to ignore the set eyes watching you as you filled one glass and left the other, hoping that he wouldn’t notice or at least be too preoccupied to comment on your lack of a desire to drink at this hour.

He said nothing.

You picked up the glass, careful not to spill it as you handed it to your king. He took it from your hands, but his other snatched your wrist as you retreated back, making you tense. The king threw the full glass back as if you poured a shot before slamming the glass on the table. He wiped the dribble of alcohol that escaped from his lips as he pulled you to sit on his lap.

This was dangerous. He was sober now, but you weren’t sure how long that would last after drinking enough to keep him wasted for the rest of the day. How long would it take to kick in? You’d pour him the cup, believing he’d sip it as usual while entangling you in a verbal joust. He would ask impossibly complex questions disguised as basic pleasantries, and you would struggle to find the right thing to say. Because there was always a right thing to say. Something he wanted to hear to stroke the fragile ego drowning in his fear. You had waves of carefully hidden bruises as proof.

“Pour me another,” he demanded, the harsh tone making your hair stand on end. He really must’ve heard something he didn’t like.

“My King,” you began, timidly, as you turned to face him. It wouldn’t bode well for you if he was too drunk to remember what he had done the next day. His memory was truth, and if he didn’t remember putting his hands on you, if he didn’t remember the violence he wrought night after night, it didn’t happen. “May I pour you some water instead?”

The hand on your waist was stroking your side casually. His motions didn’t falter.

Hopefully, he didn’t take offense.

You were clear on your station. You were to serve his every whim and desire. An outright refusal wasn’t wise. Resting a hand on his arm, you knew to keep your gaze down. Keeping contact, unchallenging, all things he preferred in moments like these.

“How considerate,” he said, your body sagging in relief at the concession.

You were almost too eager to pull away from his grip, but he let you go without a word, watching you retrieve the pitcher and another glass before you came to pour him a glass.

You handed it to him and much like before, you were pulled into his lap as he sipped on the small offering you were grateful he accepted. You were afraid to hope that his temperament would be manageable.

Before you learned of the engagement, you wondered if you’d unintentionally done something to make Idris angry.

It was little things at first.

Snapping at you for getting up from dinner without his express permission, grabbing you harshly if you pulled away from any form of affection he so generously offered. When he’d wake you up, it was usually in the form of violent affections, his touch lacking any tenderness or care that he often liked to pretend still existed between the two of you.

He only realized that he was treating you differently when you found the courage to ask him if you’d done something to gain his ire. You couldn’t think of anything you may have done to make him upset. It’d been a while since your last escape attempt. Knowing there was nothing and no one waiting outside of the palace for you, you didn’t really have a desire to escape. Better to remain with the person who’d travel to the ends of the earth to trap you by their side, right?

Regardless, he looked surprised by your question and you discovered he didn’t even realize how harshly he’d been treating you. Projecting his anger on you because you reminded him of the Duke’s daughter and how their intended engagement would ruin everything he planned to build with you.

“I assume you’ve heard by now,” he said carefully, the glass of water resting on his lips as he watched you.

You didn’t know whether to play dumb or openly admit you learned of his vassal’s plan to marry him to someone with a legitimate background. He was obviously unhappy about it, so if you mentioned that you had learned, he might shift the conversation to ask instead why you remained silent. To ask about your feelings on the matter and when you didn’t show the same amount of disdain, he’d mistake your feelings for what they were.

Hope.

A newfound hope that you had found a way to escape from underneath his grip, even if it was temporary. You could only imagine the anger he’d display then.

If you pretended you didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d give a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes. Calling you his clueless lover, the hand at your waist would squeeze into your side, his fingernails threatening to pierce your skin as he buried his head in your neck. Harsh laughter would brush across your skin and your body would be so tense, waiting for the moment that skin would be met with teeth. Met with pain.

Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything. He always did love hearing himself speak.

“Have you seen the Duke at the balls I’ve hosted? He’s hoping to gain an alliance with the imperial family by forcing me to marry his daughter in exchange for his backing and the steel his family mines in order to make weapons.”

His fingers drummed against your side as he took a sip of his water.

You felt inclined to say something to break this silence, to give a show of how upset or angry or disappointed or sad or whatever the hell you were supposed to be feeling so he felt as if you were torn up about this situation and not hoping the Duke would move faster with the marriage arrangements.

“How arrogant,” you said simply.

He smiled, setting down his glass as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Those were my thoughts exactly. I managed to push it off, but I can’t see the Duke giving up any time soon.” He sighed, leaning into your touch when you began to scratch the back of his neck. You were listening. You cared about what he was saying. You sympathized with his plight and offered the reprieve you could. To say you could do more was putting it lightly, but you would get away with doing the bare minimum for as long as you could.

“It makes me think of how unfair this is to you.”

You wanted to laugh.

Unfair was forcing you into the position of his concubine in the first place. Unfair was ignoring your consistent refusals and forcing you to remain by his side. Unfair was the treatment you endured in the position you never asked to be in, the abuse you suffered, the constant torment you faced, the aching loneliness at being able to talk honestly with no one, the grief at the loss of your family—unfair was putting it lightly.

It was hard to hear coming from the culprit.

“It got me thinking that if I’m eventually forced to go through with this wedding despite my lack of enthusiasm, why not have a wedding I’d enjoy first?”

Dread pinched your stomach.

“Do you remember the promise we made when we were younger?”

No.

No, no, no, no, no.

Not another shackle. Yet another excuse to be stuck in this place with no way out.

“Your Highness-”

“I promised you that we’d have the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. That you would walk upon a path of flowers that would lead you to my side, and one of the knights can walk you down the aisle since-.”

You felt nauseous.

“Anyways, I think I’ve been putting it off for too long and it’s the perfect event to put my vassals in their place.”

This couldn’t be happening. You shook your head, not wanting to imagine what life would be like after you became… what? What did he intend on calling you if you were no longer his concubine? What did it matter if your treatment would remain spiteful regardless of how many escorts he replaced by your side. Any hope you had about escaping would be snatched away and your every move would be reported back to the King. You supposed he didn’t botherbefore because there really was nowhere for you to go where people didn’t know who you were, but with this new title, this new position, he would shorten your leash to show just how much of a loving couple the two of you were.

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, a warning in his voice. “You don’t look happy.”

“No,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. It brought tears to your eyes when the impediment remained, threatening to choke you as you struggled to hold them back. “I’m overjoyed.” you said, burying your head in his shoulder so he couldn’t see that these weren’t happy tears. That you weren’t crying at what you would gain from marrying the King, the most sought after “bachelor” in your kingdom. You were crying at everything that you would lose, that would continue to be taken away from you. Demanded of you. Your peace, your love, happiness, and the joy you were so desperate to convince him you felt in this moment.

Not that he really cared in the first place.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yan!idris #yandere king

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vonne-inc · 11 months

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product: yandere husband.

gender neutral reader. mainly fluff. yandere-ish (a little).

yandere husband, who met you a few months after your high-school graduation. being a barista at his parent's cafe and seeing you walk up to the counter. oh, how he immediately fell in love with you. he found you beautiful— no, more than beautiful; glorious, angelic, heavenly.. there were too many words to describe you. he knew you were perfect.

yandere husband, leaving his number on the receipt taped to your to-go drink. he watched as you glanced at the writing while walking out the door. your eyes met his, smiling as you held your phone in your palm. his heart raced with nervousness. his phone buzzed as it showed a text message from an unknown number. when he lifted his head, you were gone. he was happy, elated even.

yandere husband, at work or at home texted you any moment he could. he really liked you— you were just so fun and interesting! he couldn't get enough of you, and you could get enough of him.

yandere husband, after a few dates and flirty conversations, you started dating him. his obsessive and possessiveness didn't start until your first i love you's. only then did he realize that he needed your touch, your voice, your presence, all of you. he needed you, only you.

yandere husband, after two years of dating him, fully comfortable and accustomed to each other, he's asking if you'd ever want to get married. after months of talking and questions, hinting at the idea, he finally proposes. on one knee as you're in bed while the early sun shines through the curtains. it was a beautiful scene for your eyes.

yandere husband, who is smiling from ear to ear once you say yes, pulling you into a long, loving kiss. now he can plan his next moves to have you all for himself, forever.

yandere husband, smiling brightly as he watches you walking down the aisle. your attire fitting you perfectly, it was divine on you. he could feel himself falling in love with you all over again.

yandere husband, who said his vows, holding your hands as he repeated the rehearsed words he spent months on writing. there were too many things for him to say, words couldn't describe how you made him feel. the love you brought him were beyond description— you were ineffable, intangible, unutterable. he'd do anything for you; go through any suffering or pain for you. he'd even kill for you, if it came down to it. once he'd end his speech, kissing your knuckles, he'd listen to your vows with a loving smile.

yandere husband, as soon as he was able to, he pulled you in close as he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips. a short yet eternal kiss that made him feel like the luckiest man on earth. parting, he held his lips near your ear, whispering, "'til death do us part."

yandere husband, once the wedding was over, he carried you to your shared hotel suite. immediately climbing into bed with you, smiling widely as he peppers you in kisses. you stay in his arms during the night, comfortably sleeping in his embrace after the long and overdrawn day. he adores your sleeping figure, keeping himself as still as possible as to not wake you. oh, how he can't wait to spend the rest of forever with you. "you're mine and i'm yours, my love. forever and always."

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hana-no-seiiki · 4 months

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YAN! BOSS : I would kill for you.

OVERWORKED! READER: With all due respect, I just need a fucking break (or paid vacation).

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meowstarzz · 1 day

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You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her. You don't need her.

You need me.

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zennotixs · 2 days

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Ps: I’d leave my windows open so you could watch me sleep

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gutghost · 5 months

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Imagine you get cheated on...BUT- the cheater turns kinda...yandere?

It felt like an awful nightmare. Bile rising in your throat as you looked at your lover - the person who you loved through their highest and their lowest, the person who you invested blood sweat and tears into, the person you promised yourself to - undoubtedly pressing their lips to another person's. It took a hot minute before you tried to step back, only for you to bump into the doorway, causing a loud thump. The two looked at you, one with horror, the other with confusion. It took you no time to turn around and make a run for it. A hiccup making its way out of your throat as you felt a sob start to shake through your body.

It's been afew months, well. More then few months since that incident, and safe to say you have been doing...fine. not great, but fine. You've decided to collect your things while your lover was away from the house, your friends and family helping you out as you found a new place to live. It was bare bones, considering you didn't take the shared couch, or tv, dressers, not even bed. But it was yours, and you've been getting by. You'd like to think you've gotten stronger.

That was until odd things started happening around your apartment. Things were being moved, shit you know you wouldn't misplace. Your clothes were going missing, much to your dismay. You barely had any, so to lose even one shirt was frustrating. Then roses started appearing in vases in your home. Seeing as actual items were showing up you decided to call the police, and when it seemed that the window to your bedroom was broken, seemingly from an outside force, they told you to invest in better security as they kept a look out.

Which is why you were going to the store so late at night, I mean, what could go wrong?

bad decision, you later decided as you looked at the scene infront of you. Your throat tight, bile rising, just like that night, the night you lost your true love. In front of you was your lover - now ex - looming disheveled, gasping for air as their voice broke, a small, unnerving, almost crazed look, crossing their features.

"My love, my everything, oh please-"

"Dont."

Your lip trembles as you step back, your look of surprise quickly turning into that of anger. They had no right to call out to you with such fondness, not after what they put you through. The pain and suffering, all due to the person who swore to love you.

A look of hurt crossed their face at the sight of you backing away from them, as if you kicked a puppy. The idea sickened you. Quick to try and close the space once more as they struggled to walk straight they would stumble forward. Their voice trembling as they fell to their knees, a whimper coming from them as they scrambled to grab at your sweatpants.

"Please - my love I beg of you, I know what i did was sin, I know - I've never been more sick in the mind then i was that night, oh I was so stupid, thinking I could ever so much as THINK of another woman! Even more so after wards, how could I think I could ever live without you??? You! Oh precious you, the sun only shines when you are near. Those next few weeks were torture my dear, I've never wanted anything more then to RIP MY SKIN OFF WHEN I REALIZED MY MISDEEDS."

Their insane rambling continued as you tried to shove them off, tears starting to stream down their gaunt cheeks. Had they been eating? You wondered as you tried to get them off you.

"I'm...i'm better now though! I've never been thinking clearer, I came to a realization life isn't worth living without you! But by then- you...- you had already left, I tore through that house to try and find you but you had already been far gone. I asked your family, your friends - but all of them simply turned me away, your LOVER - isn't that what I am? I am, aren't i?? They should've...they-"

You couldn't listen to this anymore. A disgusted feeling filling your gut. What did you ever see in them?? You quickly shoved them away, a small gasp coming from them as you stepped away, your ex lover falling backwards onto the sidewalk. A look so firey resting on your face it could rival the heat from the depths of hell.

"You lost that right. You lost it the moment you took that person into your arms, the moment you brought them into our home, the moment you pressed your lips against theirs."

They seemed dumbfounded, sobs starting to wash over their body as they tried to sputter out apologies. But you had none of it.

"Did you get a kick out of it? Seeing me suffer? Seeing me jealous as you placed your hands on that person's? Your lips on them? When i left did you just go right back to kissing on them? Fucking them??"

You spat at them, your ex lover crying their heart out as they struggled to breath. Whether it be from guilt or heart break you weren't sure. They shook their head as they continued to cry, trying once again to reach out to you, to hold onto you for that comfort you once so readily gave them. But you stepped back, putting space between you once more. A scoff coming from you as you did so

"Baby please don't do this to me, please please please-"

Their voice wavered heavily. Some part of you, the part buried deep down in your heart, ached at the sight of them so broken down. They looked ill, both mentally and physically. But what done was done. You quickly turned on your heels as you made your way home. Your ex lovers cries filling the street as he urged you to come back, to not leave him. To not abandon him.

Maybe some sick part of you felt good that you left them a blubbering mess, after all. They rept what they sown, did they not?

Little did you know, oh how blissfully unaware you were. They were gonna get you back, one way or another. They will have you back in their arms, with all those roses they left in your apartment in pretty vases all over your newly bought home in the woods, far from everyone.

They will have you be their's again.

that corpse that once used to be their side piece left rotting under the concrete of their basement proves it.

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mysicklove · 5 months

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Mello honey, I know your inbox is hecka full (my own gives me anxiety rn so I’m avoiding it)

I hope you’re well♥️♥️♥️ Makes me happy seeing you on my dash!

i want us to fuse together as one

#💌 - love letters #yan darling #love u !

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mysicklove-main · 4 months

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YEEEEE!!!! HOPE YOU HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS HAPPY HOLIDAY SEASON!!

MERRY CHRISTMAS LOVER!!!!!!

#💌 - love letters #yan darling

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rxmye · 6 days

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" 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈 𝐁𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 ? "

𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐌 — ruin him or even break him, and yet still his thoughts will be solely devoted to you . .

nsfw / sixteen + / gender neutral reader / yandere content / oc x reader / knife play (reader cuts into his skin, he enjoys it) / blood play / submissive yandere / dominant reader / slight bondage / worshipping(?) / dacryphilia / marking (reader carves their name into him) / begging (he's really noisey tbh)

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: gotta finish the character info's before these fics guys . . anyways meet Elliot Bourne . .

The blade dipped into Elliot's skin, cutting the soft flesh, leaving a scar in it's wake, blood dripping from his torso, while his screams were muffled by the rag in his mouth. Drool escaping the corners of his mouth, while tears escaped his reddened eyes as you carved into his soft supple flesh.

Muffled whimpers for more, while his body rejected your touch, squirming at the feeling of your nails digging into his thigh, holding him still. He struggled against the binds, that trapped his hands—bruises forming from the rough feeling of the ropes that held him down—wanting nothing more than to touch your radiance in front of him, to feel the divine being in front of him doing whatever they desired to his worthless being.

His mind was rotten, filled with only thoughts of you, your touch, the filth that escaped you mouth—the way the knife felt on his skin—the way your nails dug deep enough to draw blood, leaving beautiful scars for him to cherish and preserve.

His throat felt raw, all the moisture dried as his body involuntarily buckled towards you, his eyes rolling back as he felt your fingers glide over the newly carved piece of art you've left on his skin—he grew more and more light headed as the blood escaped the fresh wound.

The rag fell from his mouth, tears escaping his eyes as he starred at you half lidded, he choked out plethora of i'm sorry's and thank you's—he wasn't exactly sure what he was sorry for—yet he knew he had to please you somehow, after you gave him this delightful gift.

He felt his stomach churn, a delightful feeling, as he watched you lick the blood off from your fingers, an involuntary moan escaped his mouth—he wanted to turn away—yet he couldn't, you were just so perfect, pristine, superior . .

He watched you smile, leaning down into the crook of his neck, before you sank your teeth into him—the pain was delightful—he sucked in his breath, his head leaning back, feeling even more light headed than before, he'd be fine with dying right now . . at your hands.

Elliot blinks slowly, finally waking up . . his body was sore, aching all over . . he was still in the place where you had last left him—untied thankfully—he leaned back, sighing, trying to muscle up some strength before he got up—he looked down at the wound on his torso, your name carved deeply into his skin, claiming him whole . . and despite his weak state, he couldn't help but giggle, blushing as he traced the wound with his fingers.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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