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"You're everything to me," Levi sobbed, clutching your shirt as his forehead pressed against your stomach, tears streaming down his cheeks. He knelt on the cold bathroom tile, ignoring the ache in his knees. "Please, don’t leave me. I promise I won’t do it again." He looked up at you, his wide, tear-filled eyes pleading. "I swear, Baby."
Your heart ached as you met his gaze, biting the inside of your cheeks. How could you ever forgive him? He had invaded your privacy, installing cameras throughout your home—your shower, your bedroom, everywhere. You instinctively pushed his head away, but he whimpered softly, tightening his grip. "Please, please, please." His messy black hair fell into his eyes, and you fought the urge to brush it aside. Old habits die hard.
"Levi, what you did was disgusting."
He pressed his forehead harder against you. "No! You really like me. You care about me as much as I care about you. It's true! Stop lying!" You froze, your heart racing. What should you do? His panic was escalating. Carefully, you cupped his face in your hands. "Lev," he fell silent, hanging on your every word. "Do… do you think that gives you the right to install cameras in my home?"
He rubbed his cheek against your palm, eyes closed. "I didn't think you'd mind." You struggled to conceal your disgust. "Well, I do mind." He opened his eyes and looked at you. "If you did that to me, I wouldn't mind. In fact, I’d be happy." He gripped your shirt tighter. "It would mean you were always watching me, like I watch you." Your skin prickled at his words, and you swallowed hard. "I’d feel a lot better about you if you didn’t do that." He nodded earnestly. "I won’t, I promise. So please, don’t leave me. I need you, Baby. I need you."
I've been getting a lot of messages asking how old I am or something like that because some of you get curious about the things I write. I'm old enough to be aware of what I write, post and consume on Tumblr.
I don't know less than half of you (but I trust yall to not be weird enough 😭) and I don't know what kind of creep could have done to me if I had said I was a minor.
(I CAN’T RESPOND THE TEXT THIS PERSON SEND ME SORRY 💔💔💔)
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the thing with yandere x reader content is that once you write ONE yandere story, you’ve written them all 😭 i’ve been itching to write but i’m so outta ideas 💔 u gotta wait for the inspiration to strike 😞
tags: none needed tbh, mainly just fluff. gender neutral reader x shy yandere
you wonder where he could've possibly caught his fever from.
at first, you think nothing of the fact that he's been in bed all day. surely he must simply be sleeping or something. you leave the door to his bedroom closed, and hang out in your own room.
it's been great, having this little space all to yourself instead of being tied up in his dingy basement. of course, you still can't escape, because (a) all the doors and windows are locked and soundproofed, and (b) this house is seemingly in the middle of nowhere. you're not even sure what country you're in (how could he even afford such a nice place, anyways?). but hey, at least you're not in handcuffs anymore.
you leave your room a couple hours later, feeling hungry. by this time of day, he's prepared a meal for you (usually one of your favorite dishes) -- but when you pop your head into the kitchen, there's nothing there.
did he leave? no, that couldn't be. every time he was going to leave the house he would sheepishly stand in your doorway as if he were expecting something: a goodbye kiss? a "stay safe"? he would never leave without telling you.
is he still in bed? a rush of cold passes you at the thought that he might've died. the idea of being trapped in this cottage, with a dead body... hell no.
you knock on his bedroom door. no response.
you knock a little louder, and this time, you hear a feeble moan.
you push the door open, and you see him sprawled on his bed amidst a flurry of blankets.
"oh, my dear--" he tries to greet you, but his voice is gone. he breaks into a fit of coughs.
"you're sick?" this is the best case scenario. you feel silly for assuming he died.
you approach him. he'd been sweating profusely, causing his hair to stick to his face and the back of his neck. it was unsightly. you place the back of your hand to his forehead -- he whimpers under your unexpected touch -- and sigh. "you have a fever. why didn't you say anything?"
he opens his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off. "save it. i'll go make you something to eat."
you come back half an hour later with a tray with a wet towel, a bowl of porridge, and a bottle of cold medicine. he struggles to sit up. when he weakly fails, you help him up, gingerly grabbing his shoulders to hoist him into a sitting position.
"i'm sorry," he mumbles, eyes down as you balance the tray on your lap.
"why are you sorry?" you ask. "open up." you push a spoonful of porridge into his mouth.
he quietly eats four spoonfuls before pushing away the fifth. "this is wrong. you're not supposed to be taking care of me. i brought you here so you wouldn't have to ever worry about me-- so i could keep you safe." he coughs again.
"i'm not worried about you," you say flatly. "c'mon, eat some more."
a flash of hurt strikes his face. "you're not worried...?"
"it's a common cold. stop being so dramatic. are you full, or do you want some more?"
he lets you feed him half of the bowl before he tells you he's full. "that was the best porridge i've ever eaten," he declares, patting his tummy. he must be feeling better if he has the energy to fawn over you again.
"thanks. my mom used to make it whenever i got sick."
"i didn't know that about you."
"how surprising. i bet there's little you know about me. y'know, since you brought me here joe goldberg-style." it's hard to keep the disdain out of your voice. even now, your conscience is yelling at you to stop being kind to him, mad for ridding you of your freedom.
he fiddles with his fingers awkwardly, watching you silently pour medicine into the same spoon he ate porridge with.
"say ahh." to your surprise, he keeps his lips firmly pressed shut. sheepishly, he mumbles, "don't like the taste."
"what? are you nine?" you scoff. "c'mon, open up. you won't get better without it."
he looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed, a look of hesitation drawn over his features. "i think i'll take my chances."
now he really was starting to annoy you. how could you possibly get him to take the cold medicine?
an idea brews in your head. you might lose what little dignity you had left, but it was worth a try, right? you scoot closer until you're sitting on his legs. his ears turn a little red, but he looks like he's firmly made up his mind.
"i don't wanna. i'm sorry--" he begins again, but you cut him off. "won't you please drink some?" you bat your lashes. "for me?"
your scent, your pleading voice, your physical proximity to him -- it's all too much for him to bear. you notice, smiling in amusement at his fluster.
"o-okay." he opens his mouth, eyes glued to yours as you make him take the medicine. he doesn't even flinch, quickly swallowing the bitter liquid.
"good job," you coo. the poor guy looks like he'll pass out at your praise. you feel a little bad; at this point you were just bullying him for the hell of it.
you climb off his legs and help him lie down again, putting the wet towel over his forehead. "now all we do is wait for your fever to subside."
his lips are flushed when he quietly thanks you. "it's the first time anyone's ever taken care of me. i-i appreciate it."
you give him a smile, gathering the tray and turning to leave the room. you shut the door behind you, but you can faintly hear his voice: "i love you so much."
tw: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE. smut, cnc content, abuse, p in v, a lot of kinks if u want idk and not a lot of yandere stuff
You left your books in the locker, already old and worn out, and sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the fatigue accumulated from school. The teachers, with their endless homework, and the projects they left only added more stress, offering no respite.
Your school days used to be normal and relatively uneventful, until you met them...
They were twins, strange twins. They maintained a questionable reputation but were attractive enough to distract from your personality; the older one was outgoing with an obsession with bladed weapons, and the younger one was introverted but with a fascination for the warmth of fire.
They were both fascinated and obsessed with you.
You still didn't know the reason, but you hated the position you had found yourself in. Every day you saw them coming towards you, like two Siamese cats, and they tormented you like a little mouse. It all started from the time you talked to the first twin; you helped him with a chemistry assignment and showed interest in his knife collection. Soon after, the second twin came into the picture, as you became concerned when his arm was burned.
The familiar figures appeared in your field of vision and panic set in. You shoved all your notebooks in at once, leaving a mess in the locker, and ran out into the crowd. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light of the campus, anxiously searching for the parking lot. The crowd around you didn't help calm your mind, but at least it kept you distracted. Before you could get away from the bustling area, however, you felt a sudden tug on the sleeve of your backpack, something that made you take a step back and stare in surprise at those eyes that, though they sparkled with a flirtatious sparkle, also reflected a darkness that unnerved you.
“Who are you looking for in such a hurry?” The voice of the older of the twins came through clearly, echoing in the air, as if it could make everything around you stop.
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat instantly growing larger. You tried not to look directly into those piercing eyes, but you couldn't help it.
“Answer him, don't be rude” the other twin insisted, lightly slapping your back, you turned to see him with a dirty look but he just smirked at you mockingly.
“I'm not waiting for anyone, leave me alone”
You struggled some more to free yourself, but the older man held you even more firmly, as if he didn't plan to let you escape so easily. His hands were strong, his presence commanding. Something inside you stirred, you knew he was playing a game you didn't fully understand.
“Why are you like this with us? We just want to be with you, and this is how you treat us?” His voice sounded almost plaintive, though the frown and crossed arms gave him an air of defiance. The tone of his voice, that intertwining of frustration and desire, made you feel more uncomfortable than you had imagined.
You felt trapped, as if his every word was just another noose tightening your breath. You took a deep breath, seeking a moment of calm to collect your thoughts. Why did they keep insisting?
“I don't want to make you feel bad, but I just don't feel like I fit in with you” you finally managed to say, the words coming out with some regret, but also certainty. The feeling of being out of place, of not understanding why they were watching you like this, was even more uncomfortable for you than any other.
“Of course you fit in. If we're inviting you to spend the afternoon with us, it's for a reason. Do you know how many girls have tried to get into our plans? And you...you're just wasting the opportunity.”
The older twin's tone was becoming more persuasive, almost accusatory, as his eyes kept watching you with a mixture of frustration and a strange hopefulness. You could feel the tension in the air, as if every word out of his mouth was a challenge.
You felt caught between the desire to make them understand that it wasn't that easy for you and the growing discomfort of being under their constant observation. What did they really want from you? Why were they so insistent that you become part of their world?
“Do you really think it's that simple?” you asked, though the insecurity in your voice betrayed your thoughts. You knew their invitation wasn't as harmless as they were trying to make it seem. They were playing with your hair as you chose your words.
The oldest one let out a low chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.
“You just don't get it, do you? We're not asking you for anything weird. We just want you to stop running away.” His voice, though warm, carried an urgency you couldn't ignore.
Silence settled between the two of you, and you could feel the weight of his presence, a warm sensation began to be felt on your arm, a noble but possessive caress. The younger one prostrated himself behind you letting his breath tickle you while the older one played with your hands.
“Come on, hang out with us for a while.”
You thought about it so much that you didn't have time to realize that they were already directing you to their carpool, maybe spending an afternoon with them might change your mind.
“Let me go, this isn't funny!” you moaned at the boys' warm touch against your button. The firm contact against your sensitive skin covered by your panties made a wet patch form.
They both started laughing excitedly, whispering various sick ideas of how to make you come or even the desire to take you by force and use you as their own living sex doll. They had such macabre ideas that they sounded sadistic and of course they were.
“Stop moving, love. You're going to have to take it whether you want to or not.” The younger one began to loosen his belt while the older one held your arms behind your back with one hand and the other painfully massaged your clitoris. You noticed the great length the youngest twin was carrying.
“God, I'm getting so hard”
He threatened as he smiled.
You protested uncontrollably but your nose was already touching the boy's hard abdomen.
“Open.”
Forcefully you opened your mouth as your hair was pulled hard to perform such an action, his member slowly entered to get used to the warmth of your mouth, lewd sounds rang throughout the room.
The older one complimented you and stroked your hair while the younger one grabbed your jaw and generated perverted comments. Your head was spinning as the tip of the cock hit your uvula, allowing you to breathe for four seconds before taking it again until your face became a mess of cum and saliva.
Now it was the other guy's turn, your head was crushed against the bed by the young man while the boy took off his boxer shorts and then lubricated his member with your liquid, he played with your entrance while you moaned with disgust but at the same time excitement.
You liked being held like this, you even liked them liking you and having them obsessed with you, being your stalkers and acting like an innocent lamb every time they came near you. Now they are taking you by force and without permission.
“Ah! f-fuck” you moaned highly when you felt his member open your entrance.
You felt so full having him inside you, you bit your lip as you looked at the boy who a few minutes ago abused your mouth and of course he would do it again. They were both moving their hips and their mouths were leaving sounds so high pitched they were driving you crazy, they were moaning your name and kinky nicknames like it was a love song.
“N-ngh, so fucking...g-good” heaving breaths only pronounced pleasure.
“I'm going to cum” pronounced both boys then moaned at length as their faces contorted in pleasure and your eyes turned white from so much pleasure too.
Your body collapsed at the end of that act, your breathing was up and down and you could only feel the long fingers of one of the twins playing with the dripping semen and reinserting it into your entrance.
your kidnapper is delighted when you finally speak to him. it’s only two words: "stop staring."
he immediately looks away, unable to bear the beauty of your voice. just two words, and he's so unexpectedly flustered. he reminds himself to get a grip, and turns back to you.
"i.. uh- i didn't quite catch that. can you say it again?" he lies. he hates lying to you, even about something this small, but how can he help it? you've been in his house for two months now, and you still haven't said a single word to him. it's been hell for him, and these two simple words gave him courage and hope that you might be coming around.
"i said, 'fuck off,'" you spit. you were lounging on the soft, fluffy carpet, reading a fashion magazine. he'd been intensely staring at you from his bed, as if he were reading you.
he frowns. as desperate as he was to hear your voice, he didn't want to be cussed out. "that's not what you said."
you sigh, wordlessly flipping another page of your magazine. out of the corner of your eye, you can see him pout at your silence.
this is concerning to you: the fact that he's growing on you. you realize how... cute he was when he was like this. you suppose out of all the awful people who could've kidnapped you, some pathetic man who was hopelessly in love with you was probably the best case scenario.
"i love your voice," he says wistfully, eyes wide open like he was expecting a response. "it has a very nice richness to it. i wonder why you don't talk that much. back then you would talk a lot. i remember that."
back then. he means before he kidnapped you, stole you away from the rest of the world.
"i remember you used to love karaoke. you don't like to sing anymore, huh?" he rambles. (you want to scoff -- he "remembers"? he only knew that from stalking you relentlessly.) "i love to sing... but i'm not very good at it. at least, nobody's told me they like my voice. uh- i play the piano, though. we can have a duet some time. only.. only if you want to, though..."
he talks a lot lately. in the initial days of your kidnapping, he was just as quiet as you were (although there were a few times where you'd wake up in the middle of the night to him sobbing and begging you to forgive him -- glad that was over).
now, he went off on these long, winding rambles. it was obvious the poor guy didn't even like talking that much, but it seemed like he felt like he needed to make up for your silence by talking more.
you shake your head. stay strong! you remind yourself. what's wrong with you? why are you feeling pity for your kidnapper?
"i'm not.. ah- annoying you, am i?" he asks sheepishly, as if he's genuinely concerned about accidentally annoying you, but you can see right through his facade. what he really wants is a compliment. he wants you to tell him, "no way!!! you could never annoy me!!!!"
you consider it for a moment. will you continue to sit in silence and listen to him uncomfortably talk for hours, waiting, hoping for some kind of reaction from you? or will you oblige him for once?
"i like listening to you talk."
you really did mean it. he could sense the sincerity in your voice, and immediately he freezes up. you glance up at him -- the corners of his eyes are crinkled, and his lips are curling up. it's the first time in your captivity that you've seen him smile.
he finally stops yapping for the rest of the evening, eyelids fluttering open and shut as he drifts off to sleep by your side. you close your magazine and watch him curled up on his bed for a moment. for some reason he reminds you of a cat.
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OH MY GOD UR MASOCHIST YAN DRIVES ME INSANE TOO oh my god oh my godddd OOOOHHHHH MY GODDDD GFRRRGAVBNCJJSJKDKDOAODOOAKAKNFNHCHUEOROGLKSJSJHFJDODOAODI
wouldn’t it be so funny to imagine if crybaby yan and masochist yan had to fight over you somehow?? maybe a 3 roommate situation HAHA like masochist yan is so confident at flirting but you’re easily annoyed by him versus crybaby who struggles asserting himself but you have a soft spot for…. IM GOING CRAZYYUYYYYUSUDIAJOAOO
They would not get along.
Masochist yandere is mean to anyone who isn't you. He wants to isolate you as much as possible so he can have all your attention for himself and himself only. He wants to get rid of Crybaby yan as fast as possible. Get him evicted and then turn his room into a "game" room. But he can't. You actually like that pathetic mess for some reason he can't understand.
His go-to manipulation tactic is making you exhausted to resist. Constantly pleading. Talking your ear off so you have to agree with what he says. Still, you somehow remain resilient in your decision. No matter how much he tries to sugarcoat his words like always, or argue how Crybaby yan is literally a useless waste of space. You don't budge. Much to his demise, you threaten to kick him out instead.
Anytime Masochist yan did something that bothered his sensitive roommate, he'd get a scolding. Crybaby yan would aggregate his actions, just to get more of your pity. Burying his face into your neck and putting his legs around your waist. You'd shush him and pet his head, glaring at the guy who made him cry. He glares at you like, "Seriously, you're gonna take his side?"
If you start to doubt Crybaby yan, he knew exactly how to guilt-trip you. Puppy eyes. Pouty lips. Tears easily rolling down his cheeks. The perfect victim with his helplessness act.
As much as Masochist yan actually loves when you yell at him and get all angry, he doesn't like how the other boy was getting most of your time. He doesn't want to be just an annoying shit you bicker with. He also wants your affection— your hugs and headpats— his jealousy really obvious.
"So when I ask to cuddle, it's annoying. When he does it, it's adorable? That's not fair.... Augh! Look what you did. You made me cry! Is that what you wanted? Huh? Is that what you're into, you perv?"
He'd plop down beside you on your shared couch and grumpily look to the side. His whines stopping. You slowly thread your fingers through his hair like the other yandere lying on your lap. And just like that, he melts into you like a pudding. Shamelessly whimpering with his eyes closed. Brows furrow as he hugs your side tight. Eventually, they both learn to get along.
Unlike Crybaby yan—who doesn't openly talk about his feelings (unless it's saying how he doesn't want you to ever leave)—Masochist yan tells you exactly what he thinks. Even if not appropriate. He values honesty, so to him, being a tattletale is justified.
When you come home from a long day, Masochist yan is quick to give you a report of what you missed before you could even step inside.
Standing on his tippy toes to look taller and crossing his arms while he loudly began to speak. "The little creep you love so much sneaks into your room and smells your dirty laundry! Isn't he so gross? You're disgusted, right?"
Poor Crybaby yan looks paler than usual as he looks away from you with teary eyes. Unable to face you, dreading your reaction. Anger causes him to finally speak back against his irritating peer. "W-well, at least I don't s-steal the clothes like you."
"I don't steal, I burrow!" Masochist yan argues back, knowing well he doesn't have an actual point. "And at least I asked before I took something."
"A-are you serious? You ran away with it before you could get denied—"
"—Boys, boys, boys. That's enough!" You walk to stand between them abruptly. Arms on either shoulders, feeling their muscles tense up. "You're both in a lot of trouble, y'know..."
They glance at each other for a moment, then at you. Your playful words rousing sinful thoughts for one and petrified ideas for another. Different kind of scenerios of how you could punish them rushing in their mind. A playful hum and a scared squeak when you tug their arms and push them inside.
YOU WRITE CRYING MEN SO WELL ITS CRAZY ☹️🙏🙏 CAN WE PLS PLS PLS GET SMUT FOR CRYBABY!YANDERE OMG
Of course :)
Tags: oral (reader receiving), pillow humping, mommy kink (a bit obvious lol), poor communication
Yandere crybaby, who, despite all of his perverted fantasies, would be shy to take things further with you. You'd have to coax it out of him with gentle reassurance. Petting the top of his head, kissing his pouty lips, nibbling on his neck. Slowly drawing lewd whimpers and whines from him. Slowly making him rock hard for you.
But then, at the last frustrating second, where you start to take off his shirt, he'd stop you. Embarrassment with a mix of insecurity in his eyes. Choked up tears and weak excuses muttered from his lips. Making your heart flutter at the sight of beet-redded face. Your fingers wiped his cheek, his lips planting kisses against your palm in return. Taking a few seconds to calm down his breathing, he bore his eyes into yours.
"We don't have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, honey."
Your kind words eased him. But he knew you were bound to get tired of him being a pathetic crying mess. Truth was, he was scared— afraid that you'll hate him if you saw what was underneath his clothes. Afraid that if he didn't satisfy you, you would surely get rid of him. Leave him all alone to rot. Be with someone who was far better than him.
He couldn't let that happen.
"No, hic... You need relief. I-I can do this! I don't want you to be unsatisfied... Hic! I don't want you to go to anyone else for this. I want you to only look at me. Love me. Only me."
He got down between your legs. Rubbing your knees as he gulped, swallowing the saliva that wanted to spill. He felt sweaty. His heart drummed against his ears as tears fell from his eyes.
"Are you sure?" You confirmed it with him one last time, unable to say no to his cute, innocent face. He sniffled as he nodded enthusiastically. He wanted to do this. Not only because he could finally taste you, but also to make himself useful. He wanted to be good for you. He craved your approval; he needed it to survive.
He felt nervous. He had no idea what to do when you hesitantly pulled down your underwear. Just staring at your private...
His pants already creamed just by the sight of your bare pussy. He bit his lip hard, hiding a whimper from the shock of pleasure traveling up his body. Blinking and blinking, the gears in his head turning.
Your brows furrowed in concern. "I don't think we should, um..."
You lost your train of thought when his shaky breathes fanned your mound. An unsure tongue licking the length of your sensitive front. His eyes closed in ecstasy. Already overwhelmed enough by all his other senses. Your familiar smell, your divine taste, your dripping flesh— all driving him crazier. The noise you made caused his stomach to churn.
He pulled away, rubbing his cheek to the soft plush of your thigh instead. "Mmgh, f-feels too good. I..." His hand covered a mewl. "I love you so much..."
"I love you too, baby. But it's not a big deal if you—"
You were cut off again, this time by a surge of good shock shooting through you. He delved in, started to eat you out like a starved man. Licking, sucking, nibbling. His hands grabbing your hips so he could push his tongue further into your hole. Sinful squelching noises filled the room. His nose pressing agajnst your clit with each thrust of his tongue. He wasn't holding back any longer, hiding his face between your thighs.
He slowly began to move his hips. His poor overstimulated cock rubbing against the couch. Aroused again with a fever. His whole body burned. His eyes rolled to the back of his head while he kept going. Movements only getting rougher and faster while you placed your hand on top of his head. Holding his head and bucking into his mouth, chasing release.
You had no idea he could be like this. His docile attitude replaced with feralness. He was moaning like he was pained. Feeding on your juices to quench his thirst. His hips bumped against the furniture as if he wasn't capable of controlling it. Tears ruining his pretty face even more.
It was only a matter of time before you finished. Your back arching and your toes curling with a loud groan. "Ahhh... Fuck, fuck! Where did all that come from?"
"I-I just want you to be happy... Did I make you happy? Was I good? Are you gonna stay with me? You won't abandon me... right?!"
You sighed, a small smile forming on your face. He clearly had some things to work out. Always needing constant comfort; begging for you to own him, capture him, claim him as yours. He wished he could say the words without tearing up. Ask you to tie him down to your bed and just play with his hair.
He got comfortable with your body. Learning to use his slender fingers and even started to make eye contact when he kitten-licked your sensitive nub. Sobbing happy tears when you slowly stroked his hair. He felt enveloped by your love. Surrounded by you.
The liquid streamed down to his chin. Cries of joy vibrating against your heat while he worked harder to drive you to the edge. Half-lidded eyes staring up at yours as his fingers slid in and out of you rhythmically.
"Such a good boy, aren't you, hon? Yes. Yes, you are. You're my good boy. Ah, fuck, I'm gonna—"
Sometimes, the best way to help him calm down was to let him cuddle up to your chest. Sitting on your lap, head under your shirt— englufed by your sweet sweet smell— lips moving around your breasts. Licking hot stripes around your areola, sucking on your nipple like a pacifier.
He'd start to get more greedy for your approval. Asking if he did a good job for a basic task, like folding his clothes and putting them away. Or if he was a good boy for not crying when you went to the bathroom. He was adorable— looking at you like a lost child, wanting for you to take care of him.
He couldn't bear to be apart from you for even a moment. Pleading and pleading for you to stay when you wanted to hang out with your friends. You pecked his lips, "Be good, baby. I'll be back in 2 hours. Promise."
He whimpered when you pulled away from him. Yet obeying your words as he should. Plopping down to your shared bed to sniff your scent from the sheets. 2 hours, he could do that.
He started weep pathetically. The droplets soaking your blanket. He cried over far more stupid things than this. A crybaby. That was really all he was. He took your pillow, hugging it tightly as if it would disappear at any moment. His eyes closed shut. Whispering, "Haah... I wish you were hugging me... I wish you were here..."
He tried to be a good boy. Tried to keep himself in check. Tried oh-so hard to stop thinking about it. But eventually, the problem in his pants started to hurt. One of his trembling legs dropped over your pillow, while he found the rewarding angle that gave him the most friction. His hand sneaked into his pocket to grab a pair of hidden underwear, there in case of... emergencies.
You came back to your room to retrieve a forgotten item. Just at the right time— catching him grinding against your pillow mindlessly. Your underwear pressed tightly against his nose as he inhaled and exhaled a wail. Moaning louder than you've ever heard.
"Nghh... m-mommy... Why...? Why did you have to— hic— leave your poor babyboy....?"
You grined. The newfound information was a treasure. You always wondered if he was into that title. Too timid to talk to you about things like that. He was just adorable. You could hear how close he was when his voice shook. When he chanted your name as if it would ease the pain. Brows crumpled, and sweat rolled down the skin of his forehead.
"Mommy..." His tongue darted out to lick the heavenly taste off the fabric of your panties. His hips rutted to the pillow until a sad, unsatisfying orgasm hit him. He cried miserably. Nose stuffed while he breathed you from his mouth. Drool mixed with other liquids pooled down to splatter the pillow. An unusual angry huff coming from his lips. "Why aren't you here?!? Whywhywhywhy!"
Part 1, 18+ NSFW, but nothing too graphic. Grinding. Threats of suicide (a bit). Yeah, enjoy! The third part will be smutty, promise.
Crybaby yandere, who loved to lay his head on your lap. Your hand lost in his fluffy hair, scratching his scalp gently. He sighed quietly, the flood of tears running down to stain your clothes.
He'd do this often. Latch onto you for comfort— muffled sobs leaving him while he stuffed his face under your shirt— his nose poking your stomach, hot breaths fanning your skin. His arms draped over your waist, tightening each time your petting stopped.
"This feels like heaven. Your smell is driving me crazy... hic! I love you— so, so much!"
He suddenly sat up to look at you with his big, glassy eyes. A begging look on his face that he gave you so often. You knew what he wanted from the way his eyes moved to your lips. His mouth opening only to sound a whimper.
You couldn't be cruel to him. At least not so early in this 'relationship' that you ended up accepting. He made your heart melt— an innocent, pretty looking boy who longed nothing but to be suffocated by your love— how could you turn him away?
He'd cry so cutely everytime you made out with him. Eye closed and head tilted backwards against the couch as you take it further and kiss up and down his neck. He was already panting, the dried tears on his cheek washed away with new ones. He felt ecstatic. Whimpers and soft gasps filled the silence while you sucked marks on his skin. He couldn't help but moan at the thought of you claiming him— the tears now stinging his poor eyes.
"Do you want me to stop?" You said sweetly, cupping his face and pulling back to look at the disheveled mess you created. "Is it too much for you, baby?"
"Mmgh... It feels amazing." He swallowed heavily, his tongue wiping the drool at the corner of his mouth. You had no idea what that nickname did to him. It made him all stupid— he just wanted to kneel down and let you control him however you wanted. "Oh, fuck. I think I'm gonna die..."
He closed his eyes, unable to look at you. A bit embarrassed at his sensitivity and the uncontrollable buldge nudging for your attention. He shifted around on your lap— was it possible to come just from making out? He felt so close already.
You press soft kisses on his precious eyelids. Feeling his hot cheeks under your tongue. You lapped up the salty droplets, tracing a wet line over his swollen bottom lip. Reminding him of all the kisses you shared.
He couldn't hold back anymore. With a grind against your thighs, he came undone— his fingers digging into your shoulders and his head thrown back in pleasure.
His tongue dangled out as you sucked on it. Whines swallowed up by your mouth. He felt so dizzy, so so good. His pants all ruined, and his heart racing out of control. Almost like he was on the brink of passing out.
"You have the lewdest expressions." You teased him in a slutry voice. But instead of going all shy and covering his face, he looked at you with a blank gaze.
"You're... gonna keep me, right?" His breathing turned normal, voice barely a whisper. "You're not gonna leave me, right? If- If you do, I swear I'll kill myself. I can't live without you. I can't... I just can't."
Your brows furrowed. What was he going on about? He was so insecure; despite all the times you reassured him, he behaved in a way that made it seem like you secretly hated him. You barely got a moment of solitude ever since he broke into your house, but never complained about it. So qhere did all his sensitivity come from?
"I need you, do you understand? I need you! Life before you was..." He gulped, the grip on your shoulders tightening. "I can't go back... can't. Can't. I- I love you. I swear, you're the best thing that ever happened to me. If I never met you, I would've..."
"Hey. I'm here now, right? How about a bath? Does that sound good?" You suggested, to ease his mind. Hands resting on his soft thighs. Messaging them gently. "I can wash your hair, and-"
"You don't want to see me naked..." He mumbled. His hands lowering down to yours. Pleading eyes waiting for your sweet praise. Ears perked up for the words he wanted to hear.
"I'm not gonna judge you. I won't abandon you. I... I'll keep you, alright? Is that what you want to hear?" You sighed, unsure why you felt a bit agitated. It was as if he was doing this on purpose. Slowly manipulating you with guilt so he could get exactly what he wanted.
A shy blush appeared on his face, the red hue coating his skin. Loving every word of approval. "More... S-say I'm yours. Please... Ah, I want to hear it so bad! Please! Call me yours, your baby. Pleasepleaseplease."
His fingers curled around yours, frustrated tears already wetting his eyelashes as he looked up at you with half-lidded eyes. Wanting nothing more than make you possessive of him. His dirty pants rubbed against you as he shifted closer.
warnings: captivity, forced infantilization, nonconsensual themes, physical violence, drugging, collaring, stalking, dead dove: do not eat
—becomes increasingly more unhinged, lowkey inspired by a disturbing manga I accidentally read twice, so take that as you will.., so yeah that's my last post of 2024, happy 2025 people!
Y! Kidnapper that hunts you through the forest and tackles you to the ground after an escape attempt only to scold and berate you for every little scrape on your body, as if it wasn't his fault in the first place, as if you're just too clumsy for your own good.
Y! Kidnapper that never would do anything sexual without consent, but doesn't take no for an answer when you tell him you don't want him to bathe you—you are his, so of course he will rub you clean, even the spot between your legs.
Y! Kidnapper who tells you his entire day, everything, as if you're his lifeless oversized doll, only to pinch your nipples whenever he asks a question, daring you to answer and enjoys your torment in staying quiet and pliant for him
Y! Kidnapper who sits you down, clips even your toenails for you, kneads your sore muscles from doing nothing all day, carries you everywhere, doesn't even let your feet catch callous from walking on them, only to treat you absolutely diabolical in bed, branding each inch of skin he took such good care of either with his hand, a belt or whatever he gets his hands on..
Y! Kidnapper who's obsessed with providing warm meals for you, the highest quality ingredients are used—everything to accommodate your sensitive gut, only to drug you out of your mind and giggle while doing nothing else but cuddle you while watching TV and popping chips in his mouth, all while commenting on the script of the particular horror movie he’s watching and listing thousand of things he would've done better than the director
Y! Kidnapper who before capturing you was the weirdest fucking stalker in existence— openly groping you, offering you food with a smile (mind you he’s a complete stranger???), appearing in front of your doorstep at night to holler at you, banging his fists on your door and actively breaking in only to stare at your sleeping form while jacking off. Did I also mention he would email you like you're his secret rendezvous? Oh and he went along and introduced himself to your whole family with a fake identity over email (like—wtf is whatsapp?), hahaha..
Y! Kidnapper who wants to control every single aspect of your life—from how you pluck your brows to when you're allowed to use the restroom. Will literally stare you down with a hand on the chain connected to your collar, that he forced on you after your latest escape attempt, while you're pants are pooling at your feet and you’re trying to pee. (Why? Because the window is a few feet away..)
Y! Kidnapper from who, let's be honest here, you will only ever escape in death and that will probably be in old age, with how well he takes care of you, having baby proofed his home enough to ensure that you couldn't hurt yourself even on accident and don't even think about using a razor! he will do that for you, just sit down in the bathtub, all drugged out of your mind, dumb and drooling, losing touch with reality, while he does everything for you
—just be his passive little kitten he declawed, and that's enough for him, just dependent on him and he will paint your cage gold, even if the paint will chip away one day
The wrong thing is not the fact that you write a story with an oc, no, that's not the real problem, really.
IT'S JUST THE FACT THAT YOU USE THE WRONG TAG SO YOU HOPE MORE PEOPLE READ YOUR STORY. BUT BELIEVE ME IT'S JUST FUCKING ANNOYING 'CAUSE WE AREN'T ABLE TO FIND THE RIGHT FICS IF YOU KEEP DOING THIS!!!
There are people who like to read more stories with ocs than reader inserts, so use the fucking right tag go reach that community and stop spamming your stories among ours.
I don't think you get it but, you know, the purpose of fanfics with reader insert is to make the reader imagine her/himself as the mc of the story. The best part of these fics is the fact that EVERYONE can be included in them.
SO WHY THE FUCK DO YOU HAVE TO RUIN THEM BY MAKING THE MC A PERSON THAT LOOKS COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THE READER AND EVEN HAS A NAME THAT IS NOT THEIRS?
Not to be dramatic but i hate y'all.
And the fact that it's always the same fandoms and we all know who we're talking about...
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hii! i thought i'd send in a request <3 can u pls write abt going on an art museum date with the loml neil perry? i absolutely adore him hrhhr thank u sm!
my muse
p.s: an art museum date is such a neil coded thing!! thank you for the request i hope you like it :))
Also, I know that this is unbelievably short -it’s more of a blurb I guess?-, but this has been sitting in my drafts for quite sometime now and I’m kinda proud with what I have so far, so yeah.
And I was listening to folklore while writing this, so it makes me feel like I wrote it with a quill :)
warning: none other than tooth rotting fluff, english isn't my first language sorry if there are grammar/spelling mistakes
Neil's love for art exhibits ran deep, especially when he could share it with the person who he loved most. As they strolled hand in hand through the gallery, his enthusiasm bubbled over. He couldn't help but gush about his favorite paintings, and you listened, an amused smile playing on your lips.
With each step, Neil guided you through the exhibit, his knowledge of it as familiar as the back of his hand from his frequent visits. Occasionally, the two of you playfully attempted to imitate the poses of the lovers depicted in the artworks, causing giggles from the both of you.
Then, you both came to a stop in front of a particular piece, and a knowing smile passed between you. "You still remember," you said, your voice filled with a warm nostalgia.
"Of course, I remember," Neil replied, his eyes sparkling with affection as he moved you slightly. "You were standing right..." He took a few steps to his right, "...here."
His finger gently traced the outline of your form in the air, recreating the moment when you had both stood before this very painting, lost in each other's company.
You tilted your head, mirroring his smile, appreciating the shared memories that made him all the more endearing. The art around you faded into the background as you got lost in each other's eyes, realizing that in this gallery depicting all different kinds of love, yours was the most beautiful masterpiece of all.
2087
kaledo-art
areudirty
ellievsbear
