#tw; stalking

[terrence-silver]

Hello 🖤 I love seeing your blog pop up in my feed, simply exquisite 🖤

I have a request. What would older Terry Silver do with an adult student who is rather boisterous in class, she listens but only when she wants, she's a smarty pants. Terry so wishes to teach her a lesson after many months of class passing, learning her mannerisms, learning HER. Ever the voyeur, finding her home, seeing what lies within when she's not home, Terry plans a little 'private lesson,' specifically for her at his home dojo. Ending with his gi sloppy on him, his hair a mess like the slut he is with his student underneath him with no mercy being shown. His student definitely listens to HIS wants and desires, eager to please.

Breaking Stone.

(Terry Silver x Reader)

---

-"How safe is this, Sensei? I mean, it’s solid rock."- 

Your voice speaks up from the gathered crowd and Terry Silver, he knew you’d have something to say without having to turn his back towards the mass of students keenly eyeing his demonstration in silence, standing jam packed in a circle around the erected board with a concrete block fastened to the center of the scaffolding propped up on iron legs, following his every word like a mantra only for him predict that your mouth will eventually move to utter something and dare interrupt him. Class fifty eight. A lesson on Brick Breaking. Tools necessary; pretty straightforward. A slab of rock and a fist. Additional spices; your usual commentary in the midst of it all. Happened almost daily. Happened to the degree it was a constant he could count on. -"We’ll break our hands on that."- You add with a sense of urgency and worry once the entirety of the exercise’s participants turn their eyes towards you, scrutinizing, weighing and accessing what you just blurted out and you tended to blurt out stuff frequently. Terry joins them in their quiet staring, finding a twitch of satisfaction stir through him once he realized you were jittery and stuttering, made self aware through the fact you were the sudden center of attention. Needing to justify yourself for placing the spotlight unto yourself, you blurt out some more bullshit. Nerves, was it? You deserved that. Deserved much worse for stepping out of line. -"What do we do in case we tear our ligaments punching the board?"- You ask, scratching the back of your head. Ligaments? Were you frightened of getting a boo-boo? At that point, Terry allows himself to turn his entire body towards you, taking his time, slowly --- painfully slowly --- looking straight ahead, towards you. You shift, from one bare foot on the mat to the other, like the stillness of everything around you gave you a sense of discomfort.

Stew in it. He hoped you'd stew in it.

-"Seems a bit extreme. Sorry."-

You chuckle, apologizing, looking down. Then back up.

Terry has to chuckle with you, neatly folding his hands in front of him.

A bit extreme? It was meant to be extreme.

-"Our student here thinks our methods are strange, but these classes aren’t mandatory."-

He simply shrugs matter-of-factly, addressing the people around him, all eyes leave you and pinning themselves in his direction instead, encircling him like a tightly closed ring, listening attentively, leaving you even more isolated in your folly. The great mother hen and the ducklings. The one, solitary ugly black duck that talked too much. -"Nobody’s here by force."- He explains, and contrary to popular belief, everyone here gave their signature of consent on a written contract. Terms. Conditions. Price rates. Health insurances. They showed up to daily classes because they wanted to, giving their hard earned money out of their own volition. He didn't go kidnapping people off of the streets of LA and harassing them into black Gi, in spite of what the likes of Larusso tried to accuse him of, same way not even Larusso himself was harassed into this, decades ago. -"Or are you all here by force?"- Terry purses his lips, looking around, enjoying this far too much to stop. In unison, they all speak up, one voice, stemming from one collective lung. -"No, Sensei!"- The dojo resonates with their shout. He tries again, spreading his arms, envisioning himself like Pontius Pilate about to wash his hands clean of you and let the crowds make their decisions. -"Why are you here for then?"- He inquires, raising his voice, encouraging them. Spurring them on. -"To learn, Sensei!"- Obeying, they repeat the motion, letting out a united cry and content, Terry squeezes his fingers into a fist once they all fall silent, all but an echo remaining, his other free hand caressing the concrete block in front of him, never taking his eyes off of you. At this point, with a mouth standing agape, forgetting you should've joined everyone in their jubilant war cry, you were as pale as a ghost. Not quite so chatty or smart anymore.

Perfect.

-"The lesson is —"- He begins. -"A true artist of the craft spends years, even decades just hitting things. Sand. Wood. Stone. Metal. Flesh."-

Terry coos, confessing, that he did, on occasion, imagine hitting you.

The sweetest thing he'd ever strike. Purely to shut you up, get you the way you were right now; As quiet as the dead; all gulps and anxious little eyes darting left and right. Preferably having you bent over his knee like an unruly child and taking the bamboo stick to you bare buttocks until they were rendered crimson red with punishment. After it was all done, he'd have you thanking him for the honor too. He smiles, just at the notion; an expression he doesn't bother hiding.

-"Having been broken so many times, it makes their bones so dense that when it comes in contact with solid rock, the rock breaks first."-

Terry digs his teeth into his lower lip, taking his stance and lunging forward suddenly, knuckles breaking through the barrier of the rock and crumbling, his fingers pushing through the crack he made on the other side. It was as simple as that. -"Asaa!"- He bellows and if the dojo was collectively holding it's breath, once he's done, the remains of sharp jagged tiny pebbles spilling on the mat under around his feet like so many rolling marbles, he senses an equally collective exhale. He can swear you weren't blinking at that point. What were you shocked by? The fact that he just smashed through a brick that weighed ten pounds like it was nothing or the implication he's broken his hand by choice so many times that he could pull shit like this in the first place? Maybe it wasn't smart to backtalk or question the methods of a person who could crush your windpipes in with merely just his thumbs. -"So, you see — breaking our fists, it’s part of the curriculum."- He shakes his head, staring you down, taking a couple of steps forward, until it was undeniable he was addressing you in particular; his infuriatingly Doubting Thomas, ignoring the students that wordlessly volunteered to clean up, scooting down to pick up the unfortunate remains of the rock slab, chirping away at the remains like a handful of chicks. -"This is part of what you signed up for when you came to this dojo. When you came to Cobra Kai."- He assesses firmly. -"You came to break with the old so the new and the improved could take its place."- He adds. Eventually, you'd have to bruise and break in those pretty little hands much like everyone else would and if you didn't have the guts to do that, you'd advance nowhere and your here would become fairly obsolete. Someone might as well tell you that upfront.

Even though, he confessed. The idea of a piece of rock breaking your hands?

Something shoots through him, like a radioactive phantasm of jealousy.

He wanted to do the breaking instead.

Not leave it up to an inanimate piece of training gear.

-"And if you can't imagine yourself doing that, you can always take up a knitting class."-

He adds, finally, earning himself a couple of amused chuckles.

Blood rushes into your cheeks.

Were you angry? Ashamed? Humiliated? Good.

—

Looking through your files was child's game after that.

He pretty much had everything he needed to know about you, printed in black and white in his own two hands, on the very exact form you filled the day you signed up for adulted classes six months ago; your home address, bank statement, contact number, email, age, place of employment, blood type in case an accident took place mid-training and a transfusion was needed on short notice. And yes, he's broken into your home before. Terry did it the first time you ever ran your mouth to backtalk him, asking if doing fifty consecutive push ups as warm was a smart decision because it was bound to leave everyone too exhausted to hold proper form and too distracted with tiredness to properly follow the class. He checked every drawer, every shelf, every nook, every cranny, supposing he wanted to find something he could spit on in indignation and discovering nothing more fitting but what he could only deduce was your framed graduation photograph, pursuing his lips and letting the saliva build up right before he hurled the spittle out of his mouth and right unto the glass inside of the frame, watching it trickle down your face, smearing it with his finger in retaliation, deciding the gesture was fitting punishment. If only he had a chance to do it with your actual face next. Spit in your mouth too, for refusing to shut up as it did. Spit in your mouth for missing three of your classes this week, like that was a thing you were allowed to do when you weren't. Did he tear into you verbally too hard last time? Was that it? Undoubtedly, but that still didn't give you permission to leave. He wanted you to come back so he could harass you some more, like you deserved to be harassed.

He knocks on your door, freshly having concluded this week's teaching.

Still in his Gi, jacket slung over his shoulders.

He did that on purpose, to make it seem like him coming here wasn't premeditated or something he tactically prepared for in advance, but rather, like a last minute decision he made in the utmost rush to the degree he didn't even have time to change out of his training attire, forgetful, overworked old man that he is. -"Who’s there!?"- Your concerned, slightly confused voice calls from the other end and he hears the keyhole clicking, only for your uncertain face to show up in the precipice of the doorframe illuminated by the warm light of your apartment's foyer looming like a halo behind you, brows practically jumping once you recognized him, appearing relieved. -"Sensei Silver!?"- You state in surprise, opening the door entirely, letting him step over the threshold, moving out of the way to usher him inside from the corridor. He tries not to seem too familiar with the territory, pretending not to know exactly where to stand; next to the shoe rack or the coat hanger. -"God. I’m so sorry. Got scared halfway to death!"- You place your hand over your chest, exhaling and smiling. Way too fidgety for someone who took Tang Soo Do classes. What were you afraid of? Of someone barging in and subduing you? -"What do I owe the honor of the visit! I didn’t expect anyone."- You shake your head, all charm. Of course he prepared an excuse for him being here and it comes in a form of a sleek pamphlet he produces from inside of his jacket, handing it to you. He had it printed, in bulk and giving out to everyone at the dojo solely so he could have a reason to give you one to you as well. -"The curriculum. For our future classes. I thought you might wanna look through it. Freshly printed."- Terry explains. He hoped you would've continued showing up, smart mouth you always were, but there you went, disappearing. If Muhammad wouldn't come to the mountain, the mountain would have to come to Muhammad.

-"You missed the last session so I brought it over personally. Where'd you go?"-

Terry feigns concern. He knew where you went. You were pegged down a notch.

Proceeded retreating with your tail behind your legs.

That's what you get for questioning him.

But, he didn't expect you to retreat quite so definitely.

Who'd you ask if you can do that? Did you ask anyone? Him?

You eyelashes flutter, like you were about to come up with an excuse.

-"I think you're right, Sensei. I mean, the whole Cobra Kai dojo scene, ---"-

You begin, looking away from him, vehemently staring at the pattern on the corridor carpet, holding the flyer with a sense of unease, like you weren't certain what to do with it. If you crumpled it up, he'd make you eat it. -"It ain't for me. I'm not cut out for it."- You confess, finally meeting his gaze, appearing a bit shy at the notion. He knew a tangent was incoming. Decides to let you have it. And knowing you, you wouldn't shut up any time soon in the next five minutes. -"I can't do any of those things you demonstrated last week. Break my bones on purpose? Smash through rocks? Ignore pain? I know when I'm out of my depth and there's no shame in admitting something ain't for me and gracefully moving on. What you said the last time --- you helped me see that. You really did."- You utter, in one solitary breath, and it takes everything within Terry not to laugh at you. So, humiliating in front of the whole class for interrupting him for the umpteenth time with some inane observation, you thought it was for your own good and that it made you see things more clearly? What? Was that why you left his dojo like it was a bus station? Did you really take up knitting as a hobby in the meantime as well? -"I had a great time studying these past few months under you, but I just can't continue."- You visibly gulp once he says nothing and you feel incentivized to further explain. You never had a problem with that before. Go ahead. He was giving you center stage to speak. So speak. -"I talk back. I interrupt. I question. I worry. I'm so sorry. I can't just let go and do it. Do what I'm supposed to do on the mat."- You add, your eyes widening, perhaps in anxiety, pupils dilating, looking back and forth between the surrounding furniture and the wall --- anywhere but at him. Why should he let you go? When it was so fun pushing your buttons? In fact, he decides you could use some more of that.

-"Do you like me?'-

He asks, bluntly. You take a step back, stammering.

-"Excuse me, sir?"-

-"I said, do you like me?"- He repeats himself, firmer.

Your mouth wordlessly forms a shape, but no sound comes forth.

You weren't certain what to say.

Finally.

You were speechless for once. That was a welcoming novelty.

-"Because, if you like me, you won't leave me here stranded, with one student less and waltz out impulsively, on such a short notice. That's not how things work. There's a price for that."-

He winds you up, deciding to stoke a fire and then immediately extinguish it, intending to fluster you for thinking what he led you to think, watching the abject shame settle into your expression like a newly formed wrinkle just because for a mere second, you thought this was a confession of something more than it was instead of a cleverly phrased and deliberately misguiding segway intended to put you on the spot and make you feel like an idiot with no listening comprehension. -"I'll pay everything I still own and ---"- You practically stumble over your words, clutching the pamphlet to your chest vigorously, like a shield, referencing unpaid lesson, trying to regain what little balance you had, visibly sweating bullets. Stoke the fire. Extinguish the fire. Stoke the fire. Extinguish the fire. Terry steps forward, shutting you up. Commanding you to stay silent. -"Don't talk."- He orders, flatly, putting up his hand alongside his finger as a warning and then coming closer still, until the tip of it is practically pushing against your mouth. You appeared flaggerbasted. Like you weren't sure what was going on, too shocked to actually move. This was why confusing people into a state of paralytic awkwardness was paramount in verbal warfare. He pushed his index finger between your lips and you still didn't move, letting him get away with it, too stunned for words. -"For once, listen. Don't speak."- He murmurs, staring at your mouth, pushing his nail inside, feeling your wetness and finding your tongue, frozen stiff, clasping it with his thumb and index finger and holding it, pulling on it, until you groaned, trying to mutely gibber and failing. -"This is the thing that always talked back. Can't talk back anymore, can it?"- He taunts and you shake your head with an expression that would place deer in headlights to shame, shivering vigorously.

You've seen what his hands could do. What his fists could do.

He could rip your tongue out of your skull and it would pose little issue.

He felt you knew that right about now.

Practically dangled by the tip of your mouth's organ. Your head slumping back.

Unable to release yourself, you slowly lower yourself, to your knees.

-"That's good."- Terry coos, pleased, watching you drool all over his hand.

-"Open that pretty little mouth of yours and use it for something really valuable for a change."-

He purrs, even as his fingers go fidgeting, lower his Gi's trousers, loosening the obi around his waist, pulling his cock out of his briefs, showcasing it to you so the state of the situation would settle in. He'd hatefuck your mouth. He was already hard. Already dripping precum. Almost like the very act of coming here and pestering you served to do it for him as he, without much deliberation, pushed himself inside of your lips, taking in the sloppy, receptive moisture, enjoying the symbolism of the flyer he's given you falling next to you on the floorboard until you were practically kneeling atop of it. -"Perfect."- He hums, praising. -"You've been badgering and badgering and I can't tell you how many times I thought about interrupting class and just giving it to you, in front of everyone, right there, in the middle of the dojo. Let them all see what happens when someone questions Terry Silver and his methods."- Now it was his turn to make some confessions, fingers tangling into your hair, coiling into a fist, making you look at him with your watering, teary eyes. He amps up his pace, bobbing your head back and forth for you, using your tresses as reins. Look how you've infected him. Now he was the one rambling and loving it. -"But, I wanted the occasion to be something special. Someplace I could really savor it --- and what better place than right under your very own roof."- He closes his eyes, smiling, enjoying the sensation of tense pleasure building up in his gut, right before looking down at you with your brows furrowed. You were just now realizing this was premeditated. Poor you. -"Oh, don't look at me like that. Don't think I haven't been in here before. Been here a thousand times."- He chuckles into his own chin, moaning. Of course he's desecrated something miniscule every time you talked back as an elaborate form of revenge and violation, like wiping his cock on the curtain after masturbating on your bed. Nothing was for free. Disrespect certainly wasn't.

-"And you'll be seeing a lot more of me just yet. Don't think this is over. Don't think you can disassociating with Cobra Kai and me on a whim. You can't."-

He flat out threatens, his hips rutting vigorously against your head.

You thought this was a game?

You sign up to his dojo for like six months and call it quits when things get hard?

Cobra Kai was a brotherhood. A society. Not an extracurricular pastime or a hobby.

That's what people weren't getting. He didn't want them to just yet.

But you? He'd was breaking the news to you hard and fast in the flesh.

-"You belonged to me from the moment you met me and put on the Gi and you'll belong to me until your dying breath."-

He grits his teeth, shaking, seething, feeling his tresses slide out of his ponytail and unto his forehead in an unruly mess, satisfaction coiling in his groin imaging you returning to the dojo on Monday, dressed in your uniform, all neat and proper, your attitude curbed and kept only for special occasions, releasing suddenly, just at the thought that he owned you, hearing you gurgle from the floor, droplets of his cum trickling down your chin and leaking unto the Cobra Kai pamphlet on the parquet in front of you. No, no. That wouldn't do. Not a single ounce wasted. -"Swallow."- Terry orders, catching his breath, scrutinizing you as you did so, still holding your hair, yanking forward suddenly, his cock falling out of your mouth, giving you leeway to breathe again and you do, gasping with sharp inhales of breath, a bubble of saliva popping between your lips as you rolled back to sob and cough. Pathetic. Eager to serve. So you were capable of shutting the fuck up, letting go and getting lost in an action after all? You were teachable. He knew you would be. Much like the rock slab on the training dummy, though, you needed to be broken in first. Terry slides his hand across the top of his head, slicking loose hair strands back, lifting up his finger to threaten and warn once again. Remind, in case you've forgotten. Had your brains scrambled in all sorts of awkward and unlikely directions. -"So, you better not miss out on any of my classes ever again or I'll have a reason to hold a very, very big grudge. Especially if you don't show up and break that stone like I've taught everyone to do. Understood?"-

-"Yes, Sensei."- You manage desperately, drooling, nodding your head.

#terry silver #old man terry #kk3 #cobra kai #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; dubious consent #tw; teacher and student #tw; facefucking #tw; hatefucking #tw; stalking #tw; manipulating #tw; mind games #tw; all the warnings

[unhappytimeleaper]

Hello, can I request Shu × reader from that yandere alphabet prompt, um, oh can you write it using Shu's name the letter S, H, U and have a great day.

Original request from anonymous

Word Count: 3,100+

Shu is awful. I love him. One of my top ten characters. Anyway yeah, I’m still taking request for the yandere alphabet [mainly for enstars but other fandoms are fine too]. Anyway, as a note, I won’t specify what job ‘mc’ for this is working but it’s meant to imply they are apart of staff in some way. If you want to imagine them in the place of Anzu, you can, but I don’t want to intend it to be that’s the only way. I personally prefer the idea that you work along side Anzu as a friend/co-worker for a few different reasons, but if you don’t want that just see it as you wish since it’s never clarified.

Also, I’m not sure if they are comfortable with me mentioning them by name but I wanna thank my friend for encouraging and reading this beforehand. You know who you are.

Itsuki Shu; unedited. Gender neutral reader.

Warnings; yandere content, isolation, stalking, and slight violence.

This blog is 17+ please have your age in your bio or tagged; any ageless blog and below the age asked for will be blocked at the end of the week.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them?

The general answer is childhood. Pretty much, all of his issues extend from being rooted in his childhood and the way he was treated by his parents, kids his age, and later on as a creator. It’s also deeply ingrained in his sense of superiority and creating the perfect image of art. More than that, it’s Shu’s way of filling the loneliness and fears he experiences, because despite his arrogant and harsh nature, Shu seems to be deeply haunted by his past. We also know by the way he speaks to Nito and sometimes Mika there is a comfortability in seeing people as possessions, it’s a way of securing the fantasy of how his life is in his mind into reality which eventually translates into his relationships.

Now more into specifics. What brought this onto you and not someone else. To start, it really is a piece of separating his life into different parts. After the downfall of Valkyrie and Shu having to pick up the pieces of his mental state, he learned to let go of those in the group to be human. To be their own people, but this also is what taught him how to be better in the sense of never having to feel this level of loss again. I explain it a little more below, but being with Shu doesn’t come fast, rather gaining the trust and friendship of Shu takes a long time. You chose to stick by Shu’s side and often by his terms the entire time. You seeked to understand him and often do things his way. This isn’t to say he controls you entirely during your friendship; it’s not like in the past with Valkyrie where you simply give in as it’s easier, but more often than not, you learn to understand his actions and approaches to life. This accumulates in when hanging/helping out with Shu, you try to do things in a way that suit his needs.

Furthermore, supporting him in general is something that greatly influences his attachment. Knowing he doesn’t understand technology so going out of the way to write letters to him while he’s in France, supporting his designs/hobbies, and extending kindness to what he continues to do in the future. It’s the little things of knowing that Shu truly has someone who stands up and cares for the things he does that draws him in. The problems would start when Shu manages to break from his bubbled view of the world he has with you and see that there is more. You don’t only treat him this way but everyone you work with. That there are other idols and people ready to take away the affection you directed to him– the attention you give to him. You let other people touch you and listen to their fashion advice. That when you aren’t in the craft room working on your own projects as he sews, you're off with god knows who doing god knows what. It’s hard to say that you won’t become like others– notice his flaws and eventually abandon him like the others.

That’s when everything comes back around, the emotions of loss and fear. That you’ll do what humans do and become corrupted, with Shu [+ Mademoiselle] left to pick up the pieces of his mind and heart. It does slowly make Shu more overbearing and possessive; if he’s around, he tends to constantly be popping up to drag you off with him for whatever task he can think of. He gets the help of Mika to ensure he knows where you were or who you were with, as well as Mika becoming a very unscary guard dog to keep strangers away. His comments, once threats to hurt you from intruding on his space or time turns into threats of others, that you need to be watched and kept away so they can’t ruin your opinions on him.

Eventually, things become a snowball effect– he finds it hard to even work on projects without you in mind. If it’s not about random aspects to you as inspiration its about who you are with, what you are doing, where you are, how you are. There never was a specific thing you said or did differently. You can spend all your time racking your brain at what you could have done differently to have kept Shu in a normal state of mind, but there will never be an answer. Guess the biggest hint you can find would be the days Shu sketch designs all focused on one person– although it will be hard to gain access to those sketchbooks.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

I’d personally say the aftermath of when Shu first acts on a threat of physical violence, even more, how it plays out after. Part of this would come from a few angles as to why it’s one of the worst— although compared to many other yandere’s, it’s probably hard to label the worst as Shu would be decently unbearable the majority of the time. For one, I think even something like this would come as a shock to Shu partly as it’s known he’s quite weak, even he is aware of this and has to rely on other skills of his to keep you in check most of the time. Also, while often giving very horrendous threats of violence to you [far before Shu started his romantic exploitations], no one has taken him seriously as he mostly says these comments in passing frustration. Even you likely wouldn’t take him seriously, given that getting close to him in the first place would require becoming accustomed to his ‘colorful’ language. Beyond the pinch of an ear or dragging you somewhere by the wrist, nothing had ever caused harm past a few hours.

Finally, the last reason is due to the complex nature Shu likely holds. On one hand, he’s moved on from the people are dolls aspect he once held, but as a muse, you still have to be treated with the perfect care of an antique. Violence is something he often wouldn’t want to consider, never wanting to damage you. After all, it’s likely a huge factor as to why you’ve been locked up. But you already appeared so full of marks and scars… while he’s helped make them fade to match the beauty you should exhibit, he doesn’t want to leave anymore on you. Just like the treatment of Mademoiselle, Shu touches you often with the most delicate ways and often gets extremely worked up if someone goes to even brush some lint off your outfit. Yet he couldn’t help it! Perhaps you were going on about something after a few warnings or making some sort of escape attempt. He really didn’t mean to push you down so hard, but the frustration he usually keeps inside managed to boil over and your footing. It’s nothing extreme, a small twist of your ankle and your wrists hurt from the attempt to break the fall, but enough to bring tears to your eyes.

One of the biggest things that would have to become part of the routine is understanding how Mademoiselle functions between the two of you. Despite playing the role of a lover to Shu in this state, it’s rare that his softness will leak through, and he keeps himself quite guarded— something present throughout the entirety of the time you’ve known him. It’s not that he doesn’t have moments where he acts and treats you like a significant other, and over time he becomes much more comfortable. Still, overall it’s obvious Shu has always struggled to communicate more positive/caring things to those around him. Nevertheless, you often do understand Shu’s true feelings through the conversations you have with Mademoiselle. Unlike how many others portray Shu as not needing Mademoiselle as his obsession grows, I don’t think her presence ever disappears entirely because of how his connection with her is built. There will always be fluctuations of her around as Shu’s mental state shifts; you can often tell if it’s worse if Madem is around more (giving hints on when it’s better to not cause issues, less you want life to get a lot worse). Mademoiselle knows Shu better than anyone else, but for the sake of understanding, she isn’t Shu alone— her own personality who is kind to you and a mediator of his emotions. She lets you in on his feelings (wing-doll of the year), extends kindness, offers moments of advice, although most aren’t very helpful as most tend to just be giving into Shu’s whims, and if you’ve been under Shu’s lockdown information about the outside world.

Shu’s anger and fear would likely still be running high in the heat of the moment. He’d turn around and promptly leave the room, shutting the door behind him. In the aftermath of the shock, you’d be left to pick yourself up and hobble into the bathroom to wrap up the injury and, if lucky, perhaps see if you could find some pain killers [whether or not you find them is questionable]. It wouldn’t be for a few more hours that you’d hear the door open and Shu slinks into the apartment. Not in the mood to talk given that issues from earlier would likely still be extremely sensitive, and being hurt was something that came as a surprise. It wouldn’t be until you felt the bed sink a little more as Shu sits next to you. Mademoiselle stares at you; she apologizes for Shu, saying you might not forgive him right this minute but Shu really didn’t mean to hurt you. He just was startled, and you’ve seen how he can be with intense emotions and doesn’t like it when people overrun their mouths. Just give it time. You’ll come around and remember the person Shu genuinely is. The Shu who was your friend. While you understand what she is trying to do— what she represents— it twists the knife deeper into the memories of when you did consider Shu a friend; now, it feels mocking. Like a mother scolding two kids who got into a fight on the playground or over a toy, that the situation can just be fixed with a mutual apology.

It hurts more that Shu would just scoff; you deserved to be punished, didn’t you? It’s the only way you’ll learn! You should be lucky he did something so simple— he could have done something far worse. Mademoiselle has heard it all, the things he’s threatened, so she should know. Despite everything, you can see on his face the remorse if you look hard enough. It’s something the average person probably wouldn’t notice, but after so much time with Shu, you can tell deep down hurting you was never a part of the plan. The rest of the night is spent in silence from both of you, stuck wallowing in the misery of you trapped in this life and Shu not knowing how to make it back to how it was before while keeping you protected in his fantasy.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

One of the main things would be how long it all takes for this to go down. See, you have some yandere’s who move too fast, or you have others where it feels like a sudden snap. Even with some, it feels like it’s progressing in a very normal way. With Shu, it takes an extremely long time for everything to reach its peak. In fact, this is what makes it so hard to avoid— so many of the warning signs would be brushed off as “that’s just his personality.” The fact is they aren’t wrong either; everyone would be semi-used to his creepy, threatening comments especially knowing how Nito was treated yet it’s never been something he’s acted on so it really feels like harmless Shu being his eccentric self. Eventually, you would get used to it as well because of how long it seemed to take for Shu to reach the point where he feels he needs the relationship. It takes months to even get Shu to really even acknowledge you, maybe having a few conversations with Mademoiselle in the time being while Shu himself spends most of those insulting you.

Progressing a ‘friendship’ with Mademoiselle actually would be the ticket to getting closer with Shu as well. And at the pace of a snail, that’s how it starts. It’d likely starts with passing conversations where he’s still quite hostile but enough to actually gather some information on him, to a more casual discussion, walking with him to the cafes to get a croissant, only to have him begin to seek you out. Reasons would be to have another set of eyes on his practice [a stopwatch is good timing down to the second, but nothing can combat the feedback from someone else], to want to eat his meals with you, even getting to enjoy your presence while he works on projects. Another consideration as to why this would take so long is because Shu constantly is going between Paris and Japan; until he’s decided you need to be kept from the world, Shu doesn’t necessarily bother with taking you with him. Once having what can only be seen as tsundere like friendship, you might hear from Shu more often with calls, something you never would expect given Shu’s rough relationship with technology. Or him seemingly coming to you for general information like how to work the computer, which leads to trying to get FaceTime to work and Shu seems to become obsessed with that form of communication. All of this ends up being an extremely long process where if Shu wasn’t as messed up as he is, it likely could have progressed into a normal relationship if he had just talked to you.

One of the biggest things would be how everything with Shu is a walking contradiction. You’d probably be let on early into a friendship that most things would be difficult with Shu given how he naturally is, but love only seems to make it worse. It goes from the basic hot and cold nature of his personality, from constantly showing praise on how you’re his muse, his inspiration– but still holds his sharp tongue in his remarks that come off as insulting. To how he throws himself into work for hours, barely giving you a hint of attention due to focus he has yet doesn’t want you gone from his sight for even a second. How he claims he knows you’re real, you aren’t a doll or item but treats you delicately enough in how you can't do anything without him, something for him to dress up, and will be dirtied by people if they get their hands on you.

Even to the little things. Shu doesn’t necessarily like to be touched, and if you often make the first move, might be startled; however, he always seems to want to have his hands on you in one way or another. Often just to fix something but also as a sign of possession-- something like cuddling late at night or having you sit on his lap while he’s working on more simple projects. Probably the most ironic and funniest to tease him about more simple concepts. Something like how Shu doesn’t understand the appeal of swimwear or fancy undergarments— yet he’s the one always trying to undress you and feel under your clothes for his designs. Or as high and mighty as Shu is, often being taken down by simple technology having to come to you for help despite not wanting you to have access to such. This is all just the start, listing out every other contradiction could take forever. Either way, if you’re not worried about making him upset and making your day worse with his mood, you’re stuck doing cartwheels to understand precisely what he wants now things are ‘furthering in a relationship.’ At some point you probably are mentally exhausted enough you don’t have energy to be physically resistant to his poking and prodding while working.

Lastly, there is one big difference, and that’s how freedom works. It’s very fast into this idea of Shu seeing you as more of a partner and muse that he needs to keep isolated, but also not something Shuu can do easily compared to many other yanderes. In general, being an idol makes it challenging but he moves around so much as it is Shu doesn’t want to just leave you in the apartment alone… or with Mika necessarily. It’s not even the lack of trust in Mika either, although it’s not like he’d be able to babysit you 24/7, giving you plenty of time of time to disappear if you tried. Mind that Shu knows you’re not quite the same as Mademoiselle, but you eventually become a sense of comfort in the same way. Inspiration, a muse for his craft but also a way to relax with the stress that comes from his daily life, we already know how intense Shu is, and he probably calms down a good 2% with you around. So lucky you! You’ll end up being stuck going with Shu wherever he goes.

Holed out in the crafting club making outfits for a performance, that’s your room for the next few days. Although, be aware you’re expected to not leave the room even if Shu has to leave for a few hours to pick something up for his work [or is hungry enough to need something to eat though he’ll make sure to bring something back for you]. Better get used to traveling as you’ll be going from France to Japan quite frequently. However, despite not being fully chained and locked up in a room, that doesn’t give you much freedom. If you aren’t playing ‘dress up’ for Shu, you’re often stuck in the corner or next to him holding Mademoiselle and left to your own tasks. Usually there won’t be much to do, perhaps reading or drawing, or some other hand-held craft, given that you aren’t allowed to have access to a phone/tv nor talk to anyone. Well, unless you want to face Shu’s anger which no one really wants, it seems everyone knows to simply avoid trying to start a conversation [if they even could get close enough]. It’s incredibly isolating, but somehow hurts even more given that you are left watching the world move past you without being a part of it anymore, given the tight leash Shu has. After all, he has had a lot of time to think about how to keep you from breaking or straying too far with the downfall of Valkyrie in the past. Guess one good did come from that experience.

#enstars.leaps #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere writing #yandere enstars #yandere ensemble stars #ensemble stars #enstars x reader #yandere shu #yandere shu itsuki #shu itsuki #tw; yandere #tw; isolation #tw; stalking

[holyguardian]

I have this creeping suspicion that a previous stalker from Genesis’ blog has latched onto a blog roll of mine and followed all my blogs on alt accounts. I cannot confirm it, but I have a FEELING, and seeing as their main blog liked something I not long posted. HMM.

If you are the stalker, and you are still following me across my blogs, this is pretty unfair behaviour. If I know you, you’d be combing my blogs and you would 100% read this, so I’m posting this here on my most “active” FFVII blog to say that I’m tired and to please stop it. You ruined my experience with this website once and I’m going to be furious if you force me to lock down all my blogs.

#out of flowers #tw; stalking #I don't need anyone to butt pat me #I could be completely wrong in my suspicions #it's just the fact their main blog accidentally liked something I posted #and I was followed by a blog without an author name in too close timing

[bells-of-black-sunday]

Once again thinking about my alt Danny timelines because they consume my thoughts-

Thinking about slash enthusiast/silver Danny stalking people and dating them in his head for 8 months, stealing their clothes, their jewlery, small things they never wear and thus won't really miss until it escalates into him laying in their bed and watching them sleep to stealing their hair.

They don't know he exists but he has already put all of his self worth into them and legitmately thinks they're dating until they start dating someone else or he tries talking to them and they have no idea who he is. They hurt him and thus they become his next victim and the cycle repeats.

If he does eventually start actually dating someone he puts all of his self worth into them taking every little issue even if it's not serious as a personal attack or he changes himself to keep them from leaving. He stalks them while they're at work and tries to find out what they say about him when he's not around.

His s/o is his entire world and its startling. He hides behind this sensitive guy aesthetic to try to force everything to work and then kills people when it doesn't.

#ooc #Verse: Slash Enthusiast #tw; stalking #tw; emotional abuse #I know all of my Danny timelines are just ocs at this point- but I rlly dont wanna have 4 seperate Danny's on my muse list 😔

[autobot2001]

Day 23.1; Should Have Kept Quiet

Characters; Whumpee, the Holiday Killer Rating; M Warning; graphic depiction of violence, stalking, kidnapping, murder Description; this is fitting for my OC, the Holiday Killer. They fund yet another target.

Angstober; crimes of passion Whumpober; shadows, stalking, "who's there?" AI-lesstober; begging

The Whumpee walks down the street. Since the news of the Holiday Killer returning, they hate walking down the alleyway, but they also don't feel safe going around. Even though they'd be walking down the sidewalk. It's not busy at ten at night. The ten-minute walk is more risky than walking down the alleyway. There are lights in this alleyway, so Whumpee can see a shadow if anyone is following them. It's not foolproof if the person following has a gun or chases them, but they still feel safer than going all the way around.

Whumpee thought the plan would be run if they saw a shadow until they heard what sounded like a rock landing on the pavement behind them. "H-hello?" Whumpee nervously asks. They hear footsteps behind them, "who's there?" Their mind tells them to run. They trip and fall a few inches from a light. Now, they see the shadow of a human. While terrified to see who's behind them, Whumpee looks behind them. Horrified to see a human covered from head to toe. Only their eyes can be seen. Whumpee remembers seeing sketches from survivors reported on the news. This is exactly what the sketch looks like. "Please don't," Whumpee begs. They scream as the human grabs them. The human silences them and ties only their hands together. The Whumpee is led down the rest of the alleyway and into the back of a parked van. Whumpee believes they would have been caught even if they went all the way around. This person has been stalking them and decided tonight is the night they're going to kidnap their target. Whumpee is knocked out.

When Whumpee wakes up, they realize they're chained to the wall. Hands raised to head level. There's only a lantern giving the room light. They hear the door open and footsteps. Whumpee doesn't believe they've been found already. Most of the Holiday Killer's victims aren't found until it's too late. "Maybe I'll keep you alive," the killer says, "I've found torture is just as fun." The killer is close enough to Whumpee that they see the red eyes, and they are certain they see the smile behind the mask. "You're just getting soft after seeing all your victims—" Whumpee taunts until they feel pain. "Fine, I won't keep you alive!" The killer pulls the k6nif up to slice the Whumpee's chest in half. Smiling as they hear the screaming. The blood and organs pour out. "Maybe you would have been one of the lucky ones, loudmouth!" They clean the mess and beg up everything to toss into the industrial tree shredder. Then they go out looking for their next target.

#angst #angstober 2023 #ai less whumptober #whumptober2023 #Day 23 #tw; stalking #tw; murder #tw; death #stalking #crimes of passion #begging

[yourneedylilpup]

thinking of having a roommate who loves seeing me walk around in an oversized shirt with no bra and pj shorts that make them question if i’m even wearing anything underneath because of how thier hidden by the shirt.

i want them to be a little creep who gets off on how trusting i am towards them.

who sneaks into my room when i’m out to steal my panties and use them as a cum rag before putting them back in my closet. knowing i’ll wear them even if i see the stains cause i’ll just assume i ruined them myself and decide they’ll work until i get some new pairs.

who watches me put on location after i shower, seeing me rub the white cream into my skin and wishing it was their cum covering me instead, taking my half empty bottle of cream and adding a couple loads of thick cum to it, loving the way i don’t question why the bottles are little fuller now, nearly creaming their pants seeing me cover myself in the cum filled location, it’s almost like their claiming my body marking it as theirs.

who can’t take it anymore and sneak into my room while i’m asleep, find me sleeping in those ridiculously short pj bottoms, moving them to the side, seeing my pretty pussy presented just for them, getting me nice and wet with their tongue while stretching me out with two fingers, adding a third to make sure i’m nice and prepared, finally getting to fuck me all nice and gentle like a cute princess, so blissed out finally being able to touch me in the the depraved ways they’ve been craving and hearing me make those sweet sleepy moans that bring them so close to the the edge that they don’t notice how rough they’re getting with me, pausing mid thrust when they hear me whisper their name, looking down to see my half awake and unfocused eyes, slowly starting to thrust again while cooing at how cute i am to be having such a depraved dream about my roommate, lulling me back to sleep while still fucking into my wet cunt, cumming harder than they ever have before right into my pussy only to pull out and watch it leak out of my hole, using thier thumb to push it back into my cunt before wiping their hand in my hair and fixing up my shorts, going back to their own room completely spent and ready for sleep.

who wakes up the next morning to see me act like nothing happend and i don’t have dried cum covering my thighs and making my bed head worse.

maybe my lovely roommate will decide to start making nightly visits to my room to test just how oblivious i can be.

#r4p3 kink #r4p3 m3 #r@pe threats #r@pe #r@pe kink #rap3 fantasy #send asks #somno breeding #somno fantasy #tw noncon #cnc somno #cnc stalking #stalker #stalking fantasy #tw somno #tw cumplay

[v1ckycupid]

another fantasy of mine atm is a masked intruder, slipping into my bedroom in the dead of night. he wears a balaclava and stands at the foot of my bed, palming his cock through his jeans at the sight of me laid on the bed, completely unaware of his presence. eventually he edges closer to me, unzipping his jeans and letting his dick spring free. he pumps it a couple of times, before trailing his eyes over my face, working his way down to my tits and then my hands. gently, he takes one of my hands so as to not wake me and softly wraps it around his cock. at the touch of me, his little object of gratification for the past couple of months, he almost cums straight away. sweet release after being so patient. wrapping his large hand around mine, he slowly jacks himself off. it’s painful to go so slow, but he savours the moment even more. he has to crouch a little to get to my height. he tilts his head back, eyes rolling further and lets out a lowly groan. he catches himself and snaps his gaze back down to me, praying he hadn’t woken me. i haven’t even stirred. eventually, he cums - his thick, hot load shot in ropes all over my face and dribbles down in between my tits. he decides to leave it there and tucks his cock back into his trousers. before he leaves, he takes a quick picture. for safekeeping, of course.🩷🩷

#dumb slvt #free use slvt #cnc free use #cnc k!nk #rough cnc #soft cnc #attention wh0r3 #needy wh0re #wh0re #stupid slvt #cnc somno #somno breeding #somno fantasy #stalking fantasy #feeling slutty #cnc stalking #tw stalking #dumb wh0re #c0cksleeve #c0ckwh0re #cvmdump #cvmslut #cvmslvt #c0ckslut

[imsilay]

LETHAL

NSFW! mdni, cw: possessive behavior, somnophilia, drugging, stalker!König, obsessive König (idk lmk if i forget anything)

word count: 1.5k

summary: he was picky and he picked you.

next chapter here

art cr: Tava_tavatic on twt

You were doing the dishes as he was watching you from the apartment building next door which had a wonderful view of your bedroom and kitchen. He had seen enough to know many things about you and your life. You left your house at 10 AM every day and returned at 8 PM. You were a homebody, never wanting to leave your home aside from work and you only had your cat for company. You lived alone in a nice house and didn't often have friends over. He couldn't see any guys when your friends came by, meaning you were single, perfect.

He could even hear the music you were playing while doing the dishes. Your delicious-looking lips moved in time with the song, mumbling the lyrics. He couldn't tear his eyes off your lips. Focusing on them and imagining how they would taste. Perhaps blackberry? He had seen the lip balm you bought a few days before when you complained about how dry your lips were in the winter. Would you let him taste it and find out? Would you even look at him after discovering what he did?

His thoughts were cut off when you finished cleaning the dishes and embraced your cat, it was bed time. His gaze was glued on your back as you left the kitchen and disappeared into your living room, and then reappeared in your bedroom. He knew every part of your house. His heart raced when you put the cat down on your bed and then began removing your shirt revealing the curves of your body and the black bra he was stupidly fond of. He moved closer to the window without realizing it. Crossing his arms to stop the aching feeling to touch your smooth skin, his fingers dug into his arms when you finally tossed the shirt somewhere in your room, probably onto the chair, and then threw yourself onto your mattress.

Yawning and getting comfortable with your cat, it purred and get its place next to you. He wishes it was him… Curling next to you falling asleep with the warmth of your body. But it was impossible, cause he was just your sweet neighbor that you only had small chats, cause he was fucking massive and probably would take the majority of the space of your bed. You eventually fell asleep, he checked his watch. Just in time.

Well maybe it wasn’t that impossible…

He continued his observation for a few more minutes but he was unable to contain himself anymore. He had to be with you. He had to feel you, your body, your hair, the curve of your waist and hips. He wanted to touch your lips, but he was afraid that if he kissed you he would just get lost into them and fuck you there.

He shook his head and pulled himself out of his thoughts before they got dirtier. He grabbed the keys of his and your house and made his way to your apartment. After entering your home and closing the door behind himself, he took his sweet time to breathe in the smell. It was full of you, it made his head spin and heart race. This was his first time coming into your house when you’re there. You were so introverted and had barely any friends. You were living happily in your small world, that was until he came.

The man was over two meters and had on a strange looking mask. He immediately drew your attention because he just looked like some game characters you played. At first he was distant, cold. His icy-blue eyes were intimidating but somehow inviting. You were the first to start the conversation with him, asking about his work. You two became closer with time but it was never too friendly. He was just some neighbor you knew. But he wanted more. Much more.

So after many months of observation and gaining a lot of information about you, he managed to copy your keys. He would come into your house and feed your cat with treats making his presence known and loved. Unfortunately just with your cat. But now his dreams were coming true. He had given you some homemade cookies. And poor you accepted them without any suspicion and now you were on your bed, in a deep sleep, as he walked into your room. Your cat immediately noticed him.

But he was too mesmerized by your sleeping form on the bed that he was frozen in his place. The cat meowed loudly, drawing his attention to it, he gave it some treats he brought with him. Everything was planned. When the cat was out of the room and the door of your bedroom was locked, he walked to your bed. He was finally here. Right next to you as you slept beautifully. He swallowed thickly and sat on the bed. The bed made a squeaking noise with his weight.

You looked even more pretty this close. His gaze lingered on your face; his breath hitched when his gaze stopped on your lips. He reached out a hand and brushed the strands of hair off your face. He was so nervous that his hands were shaking when he touched your hair. It was as soft as he imagined it would be. He tucked your hair behind your ear; his fingers lingered on your jaw before stopping on your chin and tilting your head up just a little, just so he could see your face better. Your lips parted and a soft sigh escaped from your lips when he did; his heart skipped a beat.

You continued to sleep, without noticing the man's touch on your face, thanks to the cookies. His thumb caressed your lips. He closed his eyes for a moment and bit his lower lip. He was holding the urge to give into his feelings, to give in to his desires and take you just then, in that moment. But he had to be patient. He wanted your first time together to be special, like you deserved. But it was turning him on so much to see you in that vulnerable state. He just wanted to tore of your bra and see what’s underneath. Then move to your sleeping shorts and take them off along with your panties so he could eat you out until you cum or wake up. He wondered what your expression would look like.

But still… it was just his fantasies. It caused him pain physically. “Scheiße, Maus.” he mumbled with a sigh. He took of his mask with his still trembling hands and put it on your nightstand, then took of his boots placing them on the floor next to your bed. He was ready to curl up with you. He climbed next to you, close. So close that you felt his breath on your face. His heart was beating like crazy now. His hands found your waist. “Gott.” he hissed when he felt how soft your skin was. His arms snaked around your waist and drew you close until your body fit perfectly with his, lips only centimeters apart. “Mine.” he growled. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack because the proximity of your body. Your body was almost disappeared inside his arms. It only made him want to protect and posses you.

His fingers caressed your skin as he watched your face closely. To memorize everything about you. He even tried to count your eyelashes. It was stupid but he was just too lost in your beauty. One of his hands found yours and put it on his face. Like you was caressing his cheek. It was pathetic but he was too desperate for your affection. He left your hand on his cheek and his hand found your back. His fingers tracing up and down on your spine then eventually stopped on the clasp of your bra. “Nein, not now.” he scolded himself with his eyes frowned. His gaze found your lips again and softened. He wanted- no he craved to kiss you. Your lips looked delicious.

He swallowed and closed his eyes promising himself that he would stop after a taste. When he opened his eyes, he was determined to contain himself; to show restraint. So, his hand was on your chin again, tilting your head up to meet his lips. When his lips brushed against yours, he took in a sharp breath; like someone just hit him with a bat, kissing you felt like it. His hand on your waist pulled you closer, as close as he could. His kiss started slowly, with all of his love and affection; with all of his feelings. But the craving... the craving only grew. His whole body shook as he stole your breath. The determination of containing himself was no where to be found with his morals. He moaned into your mouth and his cock throbbed. His hands traveled down and big palms covered your hips. The kiss was sloppy and hungrier now. He was too lost into heaven. You were his heaven.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc<3

Stalker König has a special place in my heart. this is definitely my favorite work. also i post everyday -sometimes 2 posts in a day- so if you follow me i won’t disappoint ;)

i’m so sleepless so i’m just gonna post this and post the rest tomorrow.

#konig x you #könig smut #könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig x y/n #konig cod #konig smut #konig x reader #konig x y/n #könig #i know it’s könig #konig #konig mw2 #konig imagine #stalker #tw stalking #obsessive könig #stalker könig #silay

[terrence-silver]

God I can't stop thinking about this: Yan! Terry from Karate Kid breaking into Darling's house because he is obsessed with her and loves to stalk her (just like when he broke into Mr. Miyagi's house dressed in his beautiful black leather jacket) . However, the girl returns home too early and catches him in the act. What happens in your opinion? With Smuttyyy and a lot of dialogue if it doesn't make you uncomfortable ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

--- (Yandere!Terry Silver x Reader)

---

He could just hire someone to do this shit.

But, where was the fun in all of that?

Not like he'd ever let anyone but him rummage through your things anyway.

Truth was, Terry knew your daily timetables by heart. Your comings. Your goings. It took time out of his otherwise busy schedule to discover all of it; collect information, precious intel. Make note of the exact times of departures and returns over weeks of observation --- your habits, each and every manner of yours a pleasure to memorize just for its own sake and not because he felt he needed to be quite so careful. Even the tactical layout of your place, unfamiliar to him in the beginning--- well --- he supposed all that military training from back in the day paid off where he could more or less instinctually gage which room stood where judging from the positioning of your windows. Your door. Your walls. He could pick a lock too. Breaking in seamlessly? Leaving no tremendous damage behind that would have you suspicious? Making it seem you could've merely forgot to lock the door in your hurry when you have in fact, your own perception playing tricks on you? Sure. Why not. He was afraid he had Uncle Sam to thank for that too. Surprising the type of things a man could pick up in the army. It takes a wire and some wiggling. As occasionally easy as stereotypes made it seem, just like hotwiring a car was. Again, with a lot of instinct and practice --- not unlike when fucking, the understanding of how to move the tip and where --- and the handle comes undone, limp under his fingers. And there he is, in the sanctuary of all desire existing between walls, hallways and a roof.

Last time Terry's been here, he's let himself into your bedroom.

Discovering a drawer of underwear.

He's wanted to go back ever since. Needed to actually.

Your corridors and hallways already known, he makes an B-line for the chamber where you slept (confirmed and re-confirmed by all the nights spent gazing into your windows during the evenings and at night) opening and closing the door behind him even though there was nobody there and leaning on its surface for a second, closing his eyes, his head falling back, taking in the atmosphere for a moment, feeling a bit like a perverted schoolgirl entirely too exhilarated by the prospect of stealing and reading someone's diary. Sadly, if you had one of those, he was yet to find it and browse through himself and if it existed, he undoubtedly would sooner rather than later.

Discover all your thoughts.

Every feeling you were willing to relay into written words.

The commode of all his interests stands there, in the corner, beckoning him like a siren's call and he wastes no time to slide the top drawer open, uncovering the treasure inside; a neatly stacked pile of white, cotton, soft, fragrant, sweet smelling and ----"Perfect."- He purrs to himself, feeling his eyes dart left and right, transfixed by what he re-discovered, fascinated like it was the very first time, not even mustering the time to finish his own train of thoughts, observing your underwear, fingers sliding inside of one the panties, picking it up and lifting it up to his nose, inhaling the scent. The detergent you used wasn't anything otherworldly where the price was concerned, he could tell, but it egged him on, stuck inside of his senses, like something that infected his mind, refusing to leave. You deserved to have your things rummaged through for that alone. For not wanting to leave his brain. The price you paid for that sort of thing. Like something like that could ever really be for free. -"Freshly dried, huh."- Terry mutters once he had his fill of sniffing, smiling, thumb caressing the fabric fondly, looking at it, really looking at it. The tiny, almost seamless pale pattern. How lucky that cheap, nothing, pathetic bit of cotton must've been to get so close to you and be on you all day. Terry wasn't certain if he wanted to rip it to shreds or make a shrine out of it.

You never noticed the last time he's gone through your stuff.

Or the occasion before that.

In fact, Terry was always so careful never to leave a trace of himself behind, going for total subterfuge. Was it so wrong, though? If he wanted to leave something behind after all? A little souvenir from an anonymous admirer? Even though, admittedly, even the vague thought you'd mistakenly imagine anyone other than him as your ingenue wounded him to the point of irrational, vengeful rage. Maybe he should've simply carved his first and last name into your front door, so there would be no mistake who he was, regardless of how stupid, impractical and compromising that was. He banishes the thought.

For now.

He had this re-occurring fantasy of masturbating with your unmentionables, as Margaret so amusingly called such things, and he decides to do just that, right against the commode, leaning against it with the tent of crotch for friction, pushing against the hard wooden surface, finding some satisfaction that tomorrow or even today, when you returned, you'd cluelessly undress right here where he stood and it would've been almost as if you and him were together --- feeling his lips part as he unzipped his trousers with one free hand, your undergarments caught between his index finger and thumb pushed inside the tight slit, over his own briefs, rubbed back and forth, dryly. He didn't need to work himself too much. Terry was already hard before he even broke into the place, dripping pre-cum into his own fist at this point. It never failed to amuse him how turned on he was every time he visited your home behind your back. It was almost like an aphrodisiac that effortlessly got him off. Now, he'd just wipe himself off in your underwear, neatly fold them the way he found them after he was done and leave you questioning why on earth they were in a state like that...so...crusty and stained. He wants to cackle. Maybe you'd get repulsed, thinking you failed to wash them properly, getting sloppy with the maintenance of them. Maybe you'd touch them in shock, recoiling in confusion and a part of you would've still been touching a part of him whether you liked it or not. Whether you realized it or not. But, Terry would realize and that was enough. -"Yes."- He coos at the thought, throwing his head back, feeling his lips coil into a smile, pleasure bubbling in his gut. He decides to go faster, more vigorously, flying into a run against the piece of furniture.

His eyes snap open --- his panic almost instantaneous.

Terry hears well-known footsteps at the pavement leading up to the front door. The fuck!? Whenever you'd leave grocery shopping it would take you approximately half an hour to get there and back on foot, at a pace of a leisurely stroll. It wasn't even ten minutes. Why were you back so soon!? He hears you halting at the front entrance in a minute of some panic of your own once, just as he knew you would, you realize the door wasn't locked. Maybe you returned because the paranoia was already taking root and you grew into the habit of re-tracing your own steps and returning to check on your own failures to secure the premises, never even realizing --- oh, never even realizing it was all his doing. So, if you came back prematurely, really, it was on him. Terry holds his breath, zipper down, his underwear pushed inside of his trousers along with his hand, he doesn't move, holding his own cock with his fist, teeth gritted together to avoid making a sound. You wouldn't come into this room, his instincts tell him. You'd merely fidget around, find the keys, lock the doors, correcting a mistaken you haven't even really made and leave once more. He listens, turning his head towards the door, his heart thumping. One second. Two. Three. Five. The door handle never moves. Your footsteps fade. The front door slams shut. Keyhole clicks and he's locked inside of your house, watching your back as you rushed down the sidewalk in a hurry through the lowered bedroom shutter.

Terry lets go of his cock, cumming all over the palm of his hand.

On the leather sleeve of his jacket.

Holding back from groaning, but still doing it, muffled and feral.

Fuck --- close call. Too close.

Terry breathes, in and out, in and out, giving himself a second of reprieve. Ironically, if anything, the adrenaline rush serves to renew the yearning and he bites into his lower lip, holding back a giggle. The thought of you actually walking in, catching him...He puts the underwear with a moist patch back where he's found it, smoothening the fabric out, diligently, shutting the drawer, looking around the bedroom for a while, taking in as many details as he could for a short notice, deciding he wanted to dream of this place tonight and everything he'd do with you in it, holding up his hand still wet, slightly unsure what to do with it, eyes falling on your pillow. Ah, yes. Another thing you deserve for nearly walking in on him and interrupting his otherwise perfect calculations of your schedule. Terry feels himself smile so wide his cheeks ached as he wiped his fingers off on the clean linen with two swift moves. Perfect. Now, you'd set your head down and sleep on pillowcases smelling like him and you wouldn't even know it, surrounded with more and more stuff marked with him with each passing day until you'd become eclipsed with nothing but him, as you should be.

The satisfaction in him couldn't be described with words when he decided be extra agile and show himself out through the kitchen window.

#terry silver #yandere!terry silver #terry silver x reader #terry silver x beloved #tw; stalking #tw; voyeurism #tw; mind games #tw; breaking and entering #kk3 #cobra kai #80's terry silver

[funnyexel]

it's the stalker.

he was entranced.

by you.

the way your breasts moved freely under your shirt as you fumbled with your curtains after experiencing a brief moment of eye contact. It was heaven. he felt like he died ascended and descended all in a matter of seconds. he couldn't ask for more in the moment. seeing your irises widen then focus on his distant figure, in a split of fear.

but you.

you were alarmed. alarmed by the staring of a random man. you hastily undid your curtains and shut them as fast as you could. quickly your body took you to your door and make sure you locked it. you took a much needed breath but that didn't stop your chest from violently moving up and down. your heart pounding in your ears as you leaned against the door briefly before leaving to go back to what you were previously doing.

you thought that eye contact was bad. but it got worse. you didn't think when bags and bags of things kept showing up to your door. at first small packages that you mindlessly brought inside your home, then, undisguised bags of luxury items and items you wanted but wouldn't buy just as yet. you were warned not to open them but you couldn't help but peek.

and they were real. actual items in the bags and you had to check. something in you told you that this couldn't be real. but it surely was.

you still didn't open or wear a thing. it infuriated him. he didn't buy you these things for them to collect dust. but, besides this, he needs to see you. he's aching for you. so he does.

there you were obliviously window shopping because he knows you're too goddamn responsible to buy the things you want. he watched as you paced up and down the isle. analyzing the clothing and silently cursing to yourself when you check the tag. it made his chest rumble from a quiet chuckle. those leggings you wore hugged your body and infatuated your hips to give you a delicious figure.

oh

you bent over to pick up a shirt you knocked it off the hanger and he got the perfect view of your ass. the movement itself was quick and ridded with embarrassment from making something fall. but it still made his trousers annoyingly tight as he gazed at you.

he couldn't hold himself back anymore. he walked into the store. knowing exactly where you were as he walked in nonchalantly. he seemed confident to anyone around, but inside, he was just trembling. he was turning into where you clearly were but you were leaving at the same time, your shoulder nearly brushed against his as you pasted each other. he could feel the heat of your body past him and he could smell the sweet scent of vanilla coming off your person and he nearly rolled his eyes back.

you were too much for his own good.

and just like that you walked out the door like he was nobody. but he knew you felt it, felt that spark when you glided by one another. it was an electric surge and he couldn't rid it from his body. this lead him to pick up everything that caught your eye in the store and buy it.

he was an irresponsible child when it came to you and materialistic things, but he could care less. money comes and goes, he thought. and you are one in a lifetime for him.

he was nervous around you, popping up at places you least expected it and getting ignored by you only fueled his efforts. and he benefited from it. he talked to you.

he talked to you.

it was brief, like every other interaction you had, but it was an everlasting moment in his mind. you bumped into him this time. oh, how much joy he felt when your warm body clashed with his. it even took you a second longer to detach from him than it would a normal person. you were all over him and he knew it.

you politely said excuse me and stared into his eyes. he couldn't even blink, afraid he would miss a single moment in your presence. he imagined you looking back at him when you walked away and even fantasized that there was a smile on your face but who could even be so sure?

him?

not when he was laying down and imagining you were watching him, just as he was stalking watching you. one hand slithering under his boxers to palm himself while the other held his chest. right where you bumped into him. he contemplated never taking off the sweater, let alone washing it. but that had no space in his mind now. it was too busy thinking of you and your alluring scent.

stroking himself to you alone, he could imagine your warmth against him. your mouth, your tits and of course that hole. any one he wanted. because he knew what he meant to you. he was your prize, just as you were his. he had to work for you and you had to work for him. if that means he has to spend nights just aching and pleading for you, then so be it. he needs you. he needs you so bad it can kill him.

and when the time is right, he will come and see you.

he will break those pathetic petty locks of yours and enter your room. he will peel back those layers of sheets you use to cover that lovely body, and his fingers will run down your body, leaving goosebumps in its wake. he will hook his fingers on your skimpy underwear and pull them down to your ankles.

and he will fuck you.

some more stories

a/n: inspired by a dream and no. I cannot elaborate.

#black fanfiction #black women #smut #yandere #male yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenerio #yancore #yanderecore #yandere thoughts #cnc stalking #stalking fantasy #tw stalking #stalker #yandere male #yandere x darling #yandere boyfriend #yandere male x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere x y/n

[genderkoolaid]

*goes up to person who is being stalked by their abuser and is actively trying to avoid them* errrrrm have you considered why an ABUSER feels so comfortable in your spaces?????? other people get kicked out by abusers while they want to let you live with them, how can you not see how privileged you are???? you need to take some responsibility for how much your abuser wants to be around you. tbh you are probably also an abuser or will become one in a few years anyways. yes this post is about TERF conversion therapy directed at transmascs

#m. #stalking tw #abuse tw

[ryukatters]

it's your fault for loving me — y. okkotsu ⁺˚⋆｡°✩

⟡ pairing: yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

⟡ cw: /DARK CONTENT, /yandere! yuuta, /dubcon, /NONCON, ex-bf!yuuta, stalking, he breaks into your apartment, he /manhandles you (he’s strong), /implied babytrapping, /possessiveness, MINORS DNI

⟡ wc: 2.9k (someone sedate me)

⟡ song inspo: language by brent faiyaz

⟡ summary: Your ex boyfriend breaks into your apartment. What do you mean he needs to leave? He’s staying right here.

The slow, muffled drag of your feet ricochet off the hallway walls as you trudge along to your apartment. You fumble with your keys for a little bit, but find no resistance as you insert it into the slot. 

“Huh, that’s odd…I could’ve sworn I locked it.”

You chalk it up to exhaustion. You're only practically ever home to sleep due to the way you've been throwing yourself onto mission after mission. Even now, sleep is a luxury you can barely afford. You kick off your shoes lazily, not bothering putting them in their rightful place on the shoe rack. 

Maybe before, you would have cared more about keeping the house tidy. Or maybe before, your loving boyfriend would pamper and coddle you the minute you opened the front door, so you never had to worry about the little details like putting your shoes in the right place.

You were exhausted. 

You wanted nothing more than to wash up and plop down onto your soft, soft bed. You don’t even make it to your bedroom door before you pause, anxiety prickling your nerves. 

You sense him before you see him. Yuuta’s cursed energy has always had a tendency to seep out whenever he was around you. Whether it’s a testament to how he’s able to fully relax in your presence or a display of raw power, you’re not sure. 

"You're home," a certain black-haired sorcerer chirps. "How was your mission?"

In the past, simply hearing Yuuta’s voice would be enough to melt away the pent up stress from a hard day of exorcizing curses. It’d soothe your aching muscles and tired soul as you let yourself be enveloped by the weight of his affection. But right now, it did everything except that. 

The shiver of excitement that used to run down your spine is replaced by trepidation caused by the only person who used to be able to comfort you. 

You know better than to ask how he knew you were on a mission, much less ask how he managed to break into your apartment. It seems he's been in here for a while, with the way he seems to have made himself at home on your bed, much like the way he used to before. 

"Why are you here?"

The question makes him sit up. 

“Because I missed you. Is that so bad?”

You want to laugh. The whole situation is all sorts of fucked up, and the two of you are talking about it the same way one would the weather.

“Yuuta, we broke up 2 months ago,” you press, vexation lacing your words. You could never imagine yourself using that tone on him. Yuuta’s always been so meticulous in loving you, in making sure you were happy.  He’s never given you a reason to be upset with him. But that was then, and this was now. 

You could say whatever you wanted to say. You were tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with a supposed burglar that happens to be in the form of your ex-boyfriend.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he says simply.

“You walked out on me!”

“Because I thought you needed some space. And now I’m back. But I never said we were breaking up.” 

Space was an extremely generous term for what Yuuta gave you. If you could consider watching your every move from a distance, keeping tabs on who you talk to, and making sure you stay out of trouble secretly, “space.” He would never let you know that though. It’s too much, too soon.

He couldn't help it, not when his precious baby could get hurt. He’d never forgive himself if that happened.

“Come and sit, my love. You look so tired.” He pats the space next to him. You will your heart not to flutter at the familiar nickname. 

Your body moves before your brain can catch up. It’s almost like listening to him was muscle memory. You pause in your step, cross your arms, and glare at him. 

“Leave, Yuuta. I don’t want to see you.” The words rise from the very depths of your soul and spill out of your mouth like bile, burning and spiteful. It hurts to speak to him like this, even after he’d abandoned you with no hopes of return. 

“Sit, love.” A little more demanding this time. “I’m not repeating myself again.” 

The tension in the air is palpable, so thick you can cut it with a knife.

You take a seat. Yuuta doesn’t miss a beat before he has his hands on you. 

“Missed you,” his hand reaches out to cup your jaw, thumb rubbing against the plushness of your cheek. 

You’ve always been so soft, it’s one of the things Yuuta loves the most about you. 

You flinch. Blame it on the adrenaline coursing through your body like wildfire. Your fight or flight response is shot. Yuuta’s touch seems to rewrite everything that’s been hardwired into your brain. 

He presses a chaste kiss to your temple, before moving down to kiss the tip of your nose, and both of your cheeks. Each press of his lips leaves feels like it’s being seared into your flesh, a metaphorical branding iron of sorts— to show that you’re Yuuta’s and Yuuta’s only. 

Your mind goes blank when he sucks a kiss into the side of your neck, whimpering pathetically as he grazes his teeth along the sensitive skin. 

“We can’t do this,” you assert, but the words get stuck in your throat, so it comes out more as a whiny sigh. Your body seems to have a tendency to betray you when it comes to him.

“But we can,” Yuuta coos, pushing you down until your back is flat against the mattress. He takes both of your hands in his, lifting them up until they’re above your head, effectively pinning you in place. “We’re doing it right now, aren’t we?” 

Yuuta can appear pretty unassuming to outsiders. He’s quiet, reserved, almost meek. If one were to take a closer look, however, they’d realize that beneath that unostentatious front was a more commanding aura, one that forces you to submit to his whims with his sweet tongue and sensuous touches. Perfectly calculated, perfectly executed. 

"I fucking hate you,” you spit, thrashing against his hold, but to no avail. 

"No you don't,” Yuuta shuts you down with conviction. Like it’s the absolute truth— the kind that can’t be twisted or broken. It almost feels like he’s chastising you for thinking otherwise. “Take that back right now.”

To be honest, hearing those words stung more than any physical blow you could have ever landed on him. Has he not shown you enough love? Or have you already forgotten? 

Isn’t what you have pure love? 

A hand wraps around your neck, lithe fingers inching up before they grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him.  “I said,” blunt fingernails digging into your skin, “take it back.”

You sputter out an apology with teary eyes, an odd mix of humiliation and regret seeping into your bones, stomach swirling with shame and to your horror, a tinge of anticipation. 

It’s pathetic, really, how easily you give in. 

“Now give me a kiss, sweetheart.” Yuuta bridges the gap between the two of you. He presses his already throbbing bulge against your clothed pussy, moaning into your mouth appreciatively.

You feel so dizzy you think you might explode. 

Yuuta makes quick work of the buttons on your uniform, releasing your wrists so he can throw the offending garment and all your underthings beneath it to some random corner of the room. 

Calloused hands roam your body, squeezing and groping, as if to map out the cartography of your flesh, committing each peak and valley to memory. He watches in fascination how your skin bristles with goosebumps in the wake of his touch. 

He ignores your pleading cries and attempts to push him off. Yuuta is being driven by pure instinct alone. That sick, twisted voice in his head that he’s always tried to suppress whispers. It goads him on to take what he wants, to make sure you remember that you’re his, and his alone. 

He knows that you haven’t been seeing anyone. You were always so loyal, even when you were upset with him. Anyone who did try was taken care of the minute they left your sight. 

It’s been far too long since he’s had you. His desire fills him with a sort of quiet rage, one that metamorphoses into something darker, more sinister and morose the longer he goes without you. Almost like a curse that’s gone far too long without feeding. 

Yuuta Okkotsu loves you to the point of madness.

He thinks he might literally implode in on himself any second longer without you.

It’s almost laughable how different the two of you are. An ethereal beauty too good for this world, yet here you were in between the legs of a cursed man with too much love than he knows what to do with. 

“Yuuta, please,” you cry out. You flail your legs in an attempt to kick Yuuta off. He catches both with ease, throwing them over his shoulder to slide your bottoms off, leaving you completely bare. 

He can’t suppress the groan that tumbles past his lips. You’re even more beautiful than he remembers. 

You’re dewy eyed and gasping, nails clawing at his forearms and beating at his chest in a last ditch effort to stand your ground. Nothing can deter him. 

Yuuta could easily heal himself if he wanted to. But the angry red welts and blossoming hues of purple on his pale skin are a badge of honor of the utmost prestige. It’s undeniable proof that you’re real, that his love for you isn’t just a fragment of his imagination, and that none of this was just some pipe dream. He could take a little pain if that meant you got to be his. 

He’s always been yours without any reservations. 

“You can cry if you want, if it helps,” he says genuinely, but the gleam in his eyes shifts into something predatory. “But you should know you’re really fucking wet.” As if to prove a point, he slowly fucks his middle finger into your weeping hole, then his index, then his ring. They curl up to rub against that spongy spot just the way you like. 

You let out a sharp gasp, spine arching off the mattress. 

You tried to ignore him—detach yourself from the whole situation, let him get his fill, and be done with this whole ordeal. But it’s Yuuta— the man has a grasp on both the corporal and spiritual parts of you that you can’t bring yourself to understand. It seems like he knows you better than you know yourself sometimes. And right now, he’s managed to make a home in all five of your senses. There’s no escape. He's made sure of that. 

He pulls out his fingers with a lewd squelch. A clear sheen of liquid coats every digit, stringy as he parts them to show you. He smiles knowingly.

“You keep fighting me, but it turns out you want it after all, sweetheart.” 

Your cheeks burn in humiliation. Whether it’s from the situation at hand or the truth behind his words, you’re not too sure. 

“Don’t you know?” Yuuta rasps, fingers going back to work their way inside you rhythmically, bringing you closer and closer to the precipice, paying special attention to how you try to mask how your face contorts in pleasure. 

He presses his forehead against yours, willing you to look at him wordlessly. “I know what’s best for you. I know what you want. And right now, this little pussy wants to be fucked. Isn’t that right, my love?” 

He’s met with a breathless moan. You’re so close. Tears threaten to fall as your chest heaves in exertion, trying not to teeter off the edge too soon. 

You look so pathetic it’s insane. Yuuta swears he can feel his mouth water in anticipation for what’s bound to come next. He thrusts his fingers with calculating speed and precision, the heel of his palm slapping against your neglected clit just right. 

He leans down right when you cum, lips catching yours as you moan into his mouth. Satisfaction swells in his chest as your slick drips down his wrist. 

“You’re ready.” 

Yuuta unbuttons his pants, pulling it down just enough for his cock to spring free, tip slapping his abdomen as it leaks with precum. He fists it, jerking his hand up and down his length. He slaps it against your clit once, twice, and a third time before he slips it inside your weeping hole. 

Your walls spasm around his cock to accommodate his sheer size and girth, struggling a bit more than usual. You feel so full. It’s been far too long since he’s fucked you. You claw at his lower abdomen, trying to make space between the two of you. It’s all too much, all at once. Yuuta won’t have it. He slips his hands under your sweaty thighs, pinning your ankles on either side of your head, effectively folding you in half. You cry out at the stretch.

“Always take me so well, angel.” 

He sets a steady pace, dragging his cock in, pulling out, and then back in with an absurd amount of force. The sound of skin on skin ricochets against your bedroom walls like a sort of cacophonous symphony. You don’t get the luxury of the sweet, slow thrusts he usually blesses you with, while he coos about how good you are for him. 

“Where’s all that attitude from earlier? Am I making you feel that good?” 

You glower, refusing to acknowledge the fact that your body betrays your mind— that Yuuta’s bringing you closer and closer to nirvana the further he drags you down into hell. 

He slides his hand down your tummy, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Yuuta—!” You clench around his length, hurtling towards your second orgasm quickly. 

“You’re so greedy. Cumming again already?” 

He’s met with silence. He’ll forgive your transgressions this time around. He’ll just have to teach you how to be his good girl again. 

A particularly rough thrust has you choking back a moan.

“Thought so. Cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your peak hits you like a crashing wave. Your body tenses, leaving you gasping for air as you clench around Yuuta’s cock. You cry out deliriously, falling apart as Yuuta continues to pound into you. It’s too much, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. You’re stuck.

“I’m the only one that can make you feel this way, understand?” He grits his teeth, staving off his release just a little longer. He fucks you through your orgasm thoroughly as he chases his own. 

He presses all of his body weight on top of you, your legs on either side of his head as he folds you into a mating press. He groans at the change in position, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. 

Realization cuts through your cloudy judgment like a sword. 

“Yuuta— Yuuta, please. Pull out–!” 

Your pleas fall on deaf ears. He’s rambling now, intoxicated by all you have to offer, yet you’re the one paying the price. The effects of overstimulation are taking over now, your body twitching involuntarily with each thrust. 

“I’m not leaving you, ever. It’s just you and me.” 

You shake your head in objection, mind too hazy to voice out any resistance. Tears well up, threatening to spill from your lash line. 

Yuuta nods with a grin, canines glinting, just like a predator that’s caught its prey. “It’s true, sweetheart. I’ll make sure of it. Say I’m it for you. That I’m the only one.” 

“Say it.” 

“You’re it for me, Yu. The only one.” You babble, tears streaming freely now. 

You feel the moment he reaches his plateau— the way his dick twitches inside of you right before your walls are being painted white with splashes of Yuuta’s hot cum. 

Your fate’s been sealed. 

He fucks into you a few more times, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he rides out his orgasm. A white ring wraps around the base of his cock, the copious amounts of seed he’s poured into you threatening to leak out. 

Yuuta doesn’t bother pulling out. In a quick show of dexterity and freak strength, he manages to flip the both of you so that your positions are switched, with you lying on top of Yuuta’s chest. The steady beat of his heart fills your mind. 

Your entire body is on fire. You feel numb. You let yourself be carried away by the prospect of sleep, hoping that you’ll wake up to find that this was all just some wild fragment of your imagination.  

He presses a hand against your head, like he was afraid you’d pull away and ruin whatever fantasy he’s deluded himself into believing. 

The simple truth is– Yuuta Okkotsu loves you. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that no one else gets in the way of that. 

He runs his hand up and down your bare back lovingly, admiring your spent form. You’ve always been so soft. So pliant, so willing to give in to his desires. 

It’s the thing that Yuuta loves most about you. 

a/n: i had to reupload bc this hellsite sucks. hopefully this shows up in the tags now

tagging @princess-okkotsu again hehe

#i do not wish to be perceived #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuuta x y/n #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x you #yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuta x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #/dubcon tw #/noncon tw #/babytrapping tw #/yandere tw #/stalking tw #/possessiveness tw #kat’s writing #kat’s demon time

[violet-butterflies]

❥︎ yandere! Dilf Part 2

❥︎ Warnings ! ☞︎︎︎ drugging, stalking, delusional, doing things without consent, masturbation, NSFW ( male yandere! oc x female reader ) Click to see part 1 and part 3 !

"You wanna join daddy and mommy in bed, Yoon?"

The four-year-old nodded at his dad cutely as he climbed onto the bed, right between an unconscious woman and his dad. As soon as the four-year-old was comfortable, his dad took both his son and the sleeping woman. He then kissed the cheeks of both his son and the woman in his arms.

"I wuv you daddy..." the kid sleepily said to his dad as he let out a big yawn. His dad let out a loving smile as soon as his son said the adorable statement.

"I love you too buddy... What about mommy? Do you love mommy?"

"Mhm! But... why can't I call her mommy daddy?" Yoon asked as he tried his best to keep his eyes open to listen to his dad's answer.

"Mommy doesn't know that she's a mommy yet... It's a big surprise and we'll tell her soon!"

It never occurred to Junho (yandere! dilf) that his perfect mirage of a family would be broken anytime soon. He's always followed a very specific routine that rarely changes. It's always dropping his son to kindergarten, working until it was time for his son to go home, watching the hidden cameras in his house as y/n brings his son home to babysit. Then, it was either drugging the girl so she would be knocked out on his bed and in his arms or letting her go home and watching her in her house through a hidden camera he planted in a teddy bear he gave her.

He was stuck inside of a fantasy where you were his wife and living a domesticated life with him and his son. One day that fantasy will come true, Junho is definitely dedicated to making that dream a reality, however, why rush when he has all the time in the world?

After all, y/n was always under his watch so at this point he knows everything about her!

"Junho! So I have this barbeque party that I'm gonna host at my place next week. You and Yoon should totally come!" y/n invited one day before going back to her place.

"Barbeque party? That sounds fun! What's the occasion?" Junho curiously asked as an asleep Yoon was carried in his arms.

She giggled before answering, "It's a secret until the party!"

y/n then said her last goodbyes before walking out of the door, leaving a curious Junho standing at his front door.

A secret? What is she hiding that Junho could possibly not know about? To be completely honest, Junho did not like surprises at all. He likes to know as many things as he can and a surprise could either be bad or good.

Junho grumbled his way into his son's room to tuck his lovely son before sliding into his room. He plopped himself on his king-sized bed before trying to go to sleep and yet, he couldn't.

After tossing and turning a couple of times, he decided to take something out of his nightstand drawer.

It was y/n's panties.

Junho always felt guilty when he has to take the article of clothing out. He never likes it when he does something behind your back, especially something so lewd.

With one swift move, he took off his sweatpants before bringing one of his large hands that clenched onto y/n's panties over his nose. The other hand, went to his cock which was already beginning to get hard at the thought of masturbating using the panties of the woman he loves. It's not the proudest thing he's ever done but, it was the closest thing he has to making love with his beloved girl.

"Oh y/n... My beloved wife," he sighed after taking a whiff of the scent the panties held. His other hand was furiously moving on his angry cock as he desperately needed a release. His head was filled with images of a naked y/n under his body, moaning beautiful noises and holding his muscular body tightly with her soft hands.

With one last grunt, he released white strings of cum all over his hand and stomach. Sighing for the final time, the carefully made sure to put the panties safely into his drawer without it touching any of his cum (because that means he would have to wash it and that would make all her scent disappear) before lying back into bed.

Now he was tired and ready for bed and he did exactly that, falling asleep before post-nut clarity decides to bug him with any unwanted thoughts.

The week after, a casually dressed-up Junho and his excited son, Yoon, were waiting in front of y/n's front door. Multiple cars were parked around her house, all probably belonging to the other guests who were also invited to her barbeque party.

"Ah, Junho and Yoon! Please come in! We just finished grilling the first batch of food!"

Junho and Yoon eagerly walked in, Junho taking in all of the details of his beloved (soon-to-be) wife's house since it was his first time really being inside.

The muscular man recognized some of the guests that attended the party; those guests being some of the other teachers from the kindergarten she taught in.

Junho got to mingle with some of y/n's friends as he and his son ate the wonderful food prepared at the party. It made him feel closer to you now that he's met the people you surrounded yourself with and it was also a treat to see his own son getting along with some of the kids present; happy laughter and chatter filling up the wide backyard.

"Ok can I please have all of your attention please?" y/n's sweet voice asked while she softly hit the back of a spoon to her glass with to get everyone's attention.

All chatter suddenly halted as all eyes were on the h/c (hair colored) woman smiling happily.

"So, I'm sure that you all are very curious as to why I suddenly held a barbeque party," y/n started, "And it's also been very hard hiding this surprise from the closest people I know. But, I wanted to make it a special event since it is something that would only happen once in a lifetime."

For some reason, Junho had a terrible feeling in his stomach. He had an inkling of a thought that suggested that whatever y/n was about to announce would be something that could absolutely destroy him but, for her, he chose to keep a bated breath as he waited for this big surprise.

Junho watched as her hands held another man's hands to help him stand up, a loving gaze present in both of their eyes.

'No please don't do this to me.'

The foreign man then kissed his beloved's cheeks tenderly making her lips stretch into a wide smile.

'It's not what I think it is right? It can't be it right?'

She then showed off a diamond ring on her finger with a giggle that would've sounded melodic if Junho was the one to be the reason behind it.

'This has to be a joke right?!'

"Everyone meet Josh, my fiance! I'm getting married soon!"

At that moment, Junho felt his perfect daydream be painfully ripped away from him as his heart stopped at the announcement.

A/N Please send help I wrote this chapter after playing League of Legends for 13 hours straight. My back is so sore ouch. I wasn't gonna leave you all on a cliffhanger but the post was getting super long and my back is slowly transforming me into a shrimp.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this upload, and keep an eye out for part 3!

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[depraved-gf]

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[v1ckycupid]

i imagine going round your house and thinking it’s going to be a friendly hookup, when you give me something to drink and i start getting dizzy :(

then you go to your front door and when it opens, your friends find me passed out on the floor in nothing but a short skirt, stockings and a bra.

i wake up and pass out again and again as your friends pass me around, filling me with their loads, all over my face, ass and in my needy pussy so i don’t know who bred me first ♡ ♡

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