omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)
pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)
words: ~ 4.6k
you can read the previous part here!
CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds
Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.
It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.
Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.
As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"
You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).
Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.
(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)
Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).
You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.
The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.
As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!
He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.
He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)
Yeah, fat chance.
When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.
...The fuck.
You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.
You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.
Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.
Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.
Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).
The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.
"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."
Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.
You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).
He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.
Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...
You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.
It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.
“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”
You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.
"We?"
Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.
He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"
You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"
Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...
"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."
As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!
You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"
Adrian can't answer fast enough.
"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"
But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.
He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.
Apparently, you’ve trained him well.
You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).
"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."
Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.
You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...
Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.
It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.
Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.
"I'm hungry."
Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.
He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.
"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"
He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)
The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.
You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.
“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”
You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.
Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.
“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”
Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,
“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”
You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”
“N-no!”
The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.
“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”
Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.
Bingo.
You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.
“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”
“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”
You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.
He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...
All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.
He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.
You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.
"Open it."
"N-no-"
You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"
"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"
"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."
That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-
But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.
Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.
Yeah, good enough.
Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.
Then you're lifting the lid.
"No!"
He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.
Fuck.
It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)
"What. The. Fuck."
"I-I can explain- It's not-!"
"I literally do not believe that you can."
Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"
You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.
But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.
They’re all you.
Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.
It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.
(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)
"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.
Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"
While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.
It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.
But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...
This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?
And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.
The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.
"Alright, shut it, stalker."
Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.
"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."
Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.
Jesus, he's shameless.
This is gonna be fun.
But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).
"Alright. Sit."
Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.
You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.
He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.
"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."
Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.
You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.
You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...
He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.
What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...
"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"
Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.
You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.
You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."
You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.
Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.
A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.
"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"
If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.
He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.
“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”
Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.
“Use your words, mutt.”
He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-
“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”
He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-
“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“
He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.
"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.
He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.
Oh god yes please-
Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.
"Use your words, puppy."
Puppy.
Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.
It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,
"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"
A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.
"There, that's a good boy."
Adrian's vision whites out.
He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.
He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.
His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.
He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.
Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.
Hot.
"Pathetic."
You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.
"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."
Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"
You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...
"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."
You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.
Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.
He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.
“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.
“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.
“See ya tomorrow!”
Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.
He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.
He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.
The phone drops from his fingers like lead.
How?
His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).
It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?
Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.
[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]
A shaky giggle escapes him.
Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.
thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3
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Hi! Can I please request an Innocent! Yandere x Knowledgable! Reader????
maybe yandere doesn't know why they feel this way, about YOU of all people. Reader knows exactly what's going on, and only encourages our dear sweet yandere, because they just look so adorable as they hold you so close, begging you to never leave them!!!
(p.s. if you're accepting emoji anons, could I be 👾?)
yes yes YES you get me and i hope i got you here because i LOVE LOVE LOVE this!!!! this kinda got away with me so i may come back to make it more coherent later but i just can't keep it to myself anymore! also p.s. to 👾: i do read your messages and they always bring a smile to my face! you're really so kind, thank you so much for your endless support it means more than you could know!! (also i'm gonna be responding to asks/messages as i get back into the swing of things so nobody think you've been forgotten!) okok i'm done now i hope you enjoy!!<3
concept: Innocent!Yandere(gn) x Enabler!Reader(gn)
words: ~2.1k
CW: 18+, mild NSFW, yandere behavior, manipulation, delusional thinking, scent spit sweat and all that fun gross stuff
Ren is a master of self-control.
They’ve had to become one ever since meeting you, and it has not been an easy undertaking.
Their entire reality was thrown out the window with just your polite greeting smile, their soul left their body when your hand shook theirs; they still swear they could feel your sheer radiance emanating from just your palm.
Something in them changed that day, something beautiful and grotesque and visceral, and it’s only getting worse in the days that follow.
They get frustrated with themself frequently, especially in the beginning. Why can’t they just be normal about you?
Why does your very presence cause their body to get so hot and feverish, their legs losing all strength as their heartbeat roars in their ears until all they can even think of is you you you?
Why does your voice send their stomach flipping and their skin tingling with goosebumps? Why can’t they stop imagining it saying all these different disgusting, perverted things to them?
Why can they never find words when you talk to them, why are they constantly stammering and spluttering their way through conversations as they try not to melt at your fond, just-this-side-of-condescending smile?
Why does every part of you fill their head with incoherent, overwhelmingly lustful thoughts? Why do they want to lick across your stomach, to run their teeth over your arms, to bury their face in your armpit until their lungs and body and mind are full of only you?
Why do they get the urge to pick your chewed gum from the trashcan and suck on it to know what your spit tastes like? Why does it taste so good? Why can’t they stop doing it?
(Why did you suddenly start chewing gum so much more often?)
Every interaction with you is a test of willpower, and the difficulty only rises as the two of you grow closer.
The first time you invited Ren to your house, they could've collapsed right there (they almost did, but you caught their arm with an easy grin that had them hurrying off to the bathroom, clutching the burning spots your fingers had occupied).
Of course, it wasn't the first time they'd been to your place. They'd actually held off a full week before they gave in to the urge to follow you home (you were almost offended it had taken that long).
But it's different being here with your knowledge, and being inside where it smelled like you, where your personality oozed from every decoration and knick-knack that populated the place, where your skin cells and sweat have soaked into the furniture- something about the proximity brings out the worst in them, they can't help but bury their face in your couch cushions every time you leave the room, they hope they're subtle enough while sliding their tongue over the armrests when you look away (they are not).
They aren't proud of the whole ‘breaking-and-entering’ thing, but they have gotten pretty good at it (once you adjusted your security system and locks to account for them, of course. They still don’t know about the hidden cameras around your home that you watch back in the mornings; they look so adorable when they’re sneaking about!).
Not a night has gone by without them watching over your slumber since their first visit. It's just too tempting, the sight of you sleeping so peacefully, spread out and lax with your mouth slightly open, a thin line of drool trailing your lip that they so terribly need to taste- and, besides, it's also for your safety! With how easy it was for them to get in here, who knows what kinds of creeps might try something when you're so vulnerable?
Really, they have to be in here to defend you from potential intruders!
(Ren is the first and only person you’ve ever gotten a security alert for.)
They feel guilty for stealing from you, too; it keeps them up at night, beyond what their souvenirs do, but they just can’t stop. It started small, just old lip balms and drink bottles, nothing you would miss, but these crumbs of your presence mean the world to them, and each one just leaves them wanting more.
So, gradually, against every decent instinct in their body, Ren went for bigger prizes: an old pair of nail clippers, a notebook lying forgotten under your bed that looks like it’s been handled plenty, and, on a particularly bold occasion, they snagged one of your cheapest looking ‘toys’- just to have around! They swear! They don’t sleep with it jammed against their mouth or anything!
(Your toys are locked up now, you don’t have the disposable income to sustain that particular addiction. You’ve taken to buying cheaper underwear too, because you know you won’t be seeing them again once they come off your body. You have half a mind to ask for some higher-quality pieces back, but you don’t want to spoil the fun too soon; you're mostly just grateful they've been sparing with your outerwear, but who knows how long that'll last...)
Originally, they had hoped that satiating their appetite for you at home would make it easier to be near you, but it hasn't (you've made certain of that).
In fact, it's almost like they're getting more sensitive to you the longer they hang around; the littlest things will set them off now.
Just your hand on their shoulder to get their attention has them vibrating out of their skin, just your arm flexing as you open a door has drool pooling in their mouth, and when you lean around them to look at something, just your breath barely grazing their face has them biting back whimpers.
But it’s getting even worse as you two get more comfortable around each other, it’s harder and harder for Ren to remind themself to be normal when you keep letting them further into your life, as if they belong there.
How are they supposed to be normal when you invite them over for dinner? And how are they supposed to stay conscious when they find out you’re cooking it? And how are they supposed to keep their heart from beating out of their chest when they come over to see you puttering about the kitchen like a snapshot from one of their domestic wet dreams? And how are they supposed to stay on their feet, to keep from choking on a litany of moans and whimpers, when you raise your sauce-covered finger to their mouth and say ‘taste’? And how are they supposed to not hyperventilate in your bathroom for a half hour afterward as they desperately relieve themself through their pants?
It's downright unreasonable.
And then there's the cuddling.
Ren knows that friends can cuddle, that there's nothing inherently sexual or romantic about intimate physical contact, but their body does not get the message.
It's the sweetest form of torture they've ever been subjected to.
It was innocent enough at first, you’d wrap an arm around them or lay your head on their shoulder, and that alone would send them catatonic. But when you first laid in their lap, Ren felt each neuron in their brain short-circuit as every nerve-ending in their body was lit ablaze- it took a good while for them to convince themself they weren't dreaming (this quickly became your favorite spot).
Soon, though, Ren would wish they dreaming, if only to save them the humiliation (they wouldn't really, they'd never give up a second of your presence, no matter how excrutiating).
They try to pull back, to be good, but it's so hard.
They can't help the way their body pushes into yours, like some magnetic force causing them to press closer closer closer. They can't stop their arms from wrapping around you, clinging to you so desperately like your the only thing anchoring them to earth, every square inch of their skin in contact with yours tingling and warm and right and they need more. They can't keep from pulling you closer, pressing harder, writhing against you like they're trying to squirm under your skin, their breaths coming heavier and faster as their movements get more frantic and discordant and fevered, their senses and thoughts tortuously and wonderfully overwhelmed with you and you and you.
Then they suddenly go very tense. Then they relax. And you turn up the TV as you settle more comfortably against them. And they try not to let the mess in their pants seep through.
They're doing their best.
By this point, Ren is just endlessly thankful that you haven't noticed their... affliction yet. They often feel guilty about taking advantage of your trust and kindness, but they can’t help feeling lucky too.
For the most part.
Your friends know, Ren is fairly certain, but they can’t just leave you be whenever you spend time with other people, and you don’t seem to mind how standoffish and clingy they are when you’re out together anyway.
(Your friends have raised several concerns, but you just like the feeling of being the center of Ren’s attention no matter who or what is around you, and feeling their hands tighten on your arm whenever a friend gets too close, and watching their breathing quicken as the jealousy steadily overcomes them, and maybe even watching a more touchy acquaintance squirm under Ren’s intense stare until they leave early, and then never questioning why that acquaintance is suddenly nowhere to be seen again. It’s really none of your concern, let alone your friends’.)
Ren tries not to let other people get them too nervous, they just remind themself how easygoing and nonchalant you’ve been since the beginning; if they haven’t scared you off themself yet, your friends probably won’t have much better luck.
You seem to have no qualms with spending every waking hour with them, save for when you lock the bathroom door behind you. You met them with a familiar wave and smile the first time they showed up at your work unannounced, and then the same each time after that. You didn’t even blink when they stuttered their way around a request to share locations, you just shrugged an affirmative and grabbed their phone from their trembling hands.
You’ve never confronted them about the things that go missing after nearly every visit to your home (you know they can’t help themself, and they just look too cute when they’re desperately tucking your toothbrush into their bag like they can’t stop their fingers!), you never give a second glance when you seem to catch them sneaking a photo of you (they’re laughably unsubtle, it’s all you can do to save their pride in the moment each time), you never comment on how feverish and clammy they are whenever you touch them (except to ask if they’re feeling okay and drinking enough water, it’s so fun to watch them melt even further at just your expression of care), and you never even say anything about how often they ‘just happen’ to run in to you on the rare occasions they haven’t scheduled themself into your day (it’s always nice to see their watery smile and puppy dog eyes!).
Every time Ren thinks they’ve pushed too far, that they’ve exposed themself for being some kind of perverted stalker, you just give them this easy smile and go right along; they're actually a little concerned about your apparent naivety, they just count themself lucky that they found you before some ill-intentioned creep could.
It’s a tightrope walk the whole way, constantly unsure of what minor misstep will end up revealing the depths of their obsession and doing them in, but Ren can’t keep themself away from you.
One day, they’ll learn to cope, to be normal and palatable and right, and then they can tell you how they feel. Then the two of you can have a proper relationship, like none of this mess ever happened with them. Then they can tell you that they love you without feeling guilt twisting their gut, and then you can say it back without them agonizing over tainting it, and then you two can finally be together, the right way.
And Ren is certain that they'll get there, though it may be hard and grueling and nigh-impossible, it will happen.
Because Ren loves you, horribly and all-consumingly, and they are a master of self-control.
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