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angelofthenight · 3 months

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What Doesn’t Kill Me Pt.3

(Yandere!Alex DeLarge x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Ladstat, Swearing/Language, Unhealthy/Abusive relationship, Physical abuse/Violence, Sadism, Blood, Paranoia, Objectification, A v brief suicidal thought, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Controlling behavior, Intimidation/Coercive control/Power imbalance, Emotional/Mental trauma, Spying, Gangs, Murder, A parallel if you can catch it, Alex is his own warning, You are responsible for your own content consumption

Word Count: 3.6k

Table of Contents

You and Alex sat shoulder to shoulder on your couch as you ate dinner on the short coffee table, a movie called ‘Lolita’ playing on your television. Alex’s thigh that was pressed flat against yours did nothing to ease the nervousness that stirred like a whirlpool in your stomach. Though your head was gradually succeeding in telling you that you had nothing to worry about. Unless he had cameras in your apartment, Alex had no way of knowing of your-

“What did that malchick want?”

He asked the question so casually that you almost didn’t register the words over the tone. “What?” You didn’t mean to play dumb but you just didn’t want to answer too quickly, plus you wanted to be sure who exactly he was referring to.

“The one that was at your door.” He responded simply as he continued to eat and watch the movie with his elbows resting on his knees. Despite the fear that gripped around you over the fact he knew you had a visitor, you tried to brush the conversation away as quickly as possible. “He was just trying to sell me something.” You grumbled with the shake of your head, trying to appear as if you didn’t care about the interaction at all.

Alex swallowed his bite of food. “And why would he go to you?” He asked, as if he was looking for a reason to get worked up. “Alex, he went to everybody’s door.” You rationalized the lie, your grip on your fork weakening yet tightening. Said boy chuckled cheekily as he leaned back into the cushions of your couch like you just told him a good joke. You felt his stare on the back of your head like a hot laser, the pressure and tension of the situation humidifying around you to create sweat.

“That’s quite funny you say that. Because I precisely recall sitting downstairs myself and when he strolled in, he went straight to the front desk and he asked the lobbyman what floor your door number was on.”

Your wide gaze was strongly glued to your half-eaten plate while your features began to shake terribly. Your heart was eaten by a pulsation and you felt as if the room was closing in on you; a nasty mixture of terror and panic suffocating you. You wanted to throw up, you wanted some air, you wanted to cry, you wanted to scream till your uvula burned just to let it all out. Why did God seem to despise you so much for this to happen? Did the universe just not want you to get out of this prison of endless pain and fright, thus slamming the door closed right in your face when you were so close to slipping through the opening to escape it?

Alex’s evil grin tried its best not to turn bitter and tight. The thought of another man at your door, and the thought of another man inside your living room, made him livid on the inside. His mind fogged with the brimming of a dazed insanity as he fought the urge to destroy your living room like a savage gorilla just because of that visualization. His possessiveness was sensitive, similar to a child throwing a tantrum if someone merely touched their teddy bear.

He spoke with a mocking yet tempered tone. “So are you trying to tell me he was selling pol? Is that it? He was just trying to spat with you-” “He has a girlfriend, Alex.” You interrupted while glancing at him over your shoulder, trying to shut down any jealousy before he got too heated in the head. Blood had spilled out the corner of your mouth too many times because of that possessive jealousy of his.

But that did not give comfort to Alex’s angry greed at all. “You think that’d stop a man’s primal instinct when they clap glazzes on you and your horrorshow groodies?”

Your brows slightly furrowed down at your plate as your quivering lips pursed together, tears that you tried your best to resist finally began to sting your corneas. Alex never wasted a chance to install it in your brain that every man had no other interest than to fuck you when they looked at you. It wasn’t just degrading or objectifying, it was dehumanizing.

It sounded like he was waiting for you to say something yet you didn’t know what he wanted you to say. You never felt like you could win against Alex. Even if your IQ was higher than his, you still felt like he was smarter than you in every way. Or maybe it was just that domineering and overbearing attitude he had towards everyone around him. You’ve seen up close how successfully he intimidates both his parents and his friends, no one daring to stand up to him. But no one knew his force quite like you. No one was as intimidated by him as you. Not just because you were the weakest link or of his commanding and bold aura, but because of the techniques he used to cow you into submission.

You just wanted to lower yourself to the floor, curl up tightly into a ball, tuck your head into your knees, and rot away. That’s all you wanted to do; fantasizing that the floor would open up and swallow you whole.

“Allow me to ask you again, my darling. What did that prestoopnick want?” He put emphasis on each word like they were laced in venom.

It was too late, your first lie failed and that was your one and only shot. No matter your fake answer now, he wouldn’t believe it because he had already caught you lying. And if you had to lie about what Patrick wanted, Alex knew for sure it was something he wouldn’t like at all.

Alex rolled his icy blue eyes and huffed out a sigh, slapping his hands on his knees to push himself up to a stand. “Well then! If you won’t tell me then I’ll go ask that gent myself!”

Your eyes sprung wide open, a breath sharply inhaling up through your nose to burn your lungs. He was only able to take three steps before you had thrown yourself onto your knees to his feet and clutched onto the fabric of his pants. “Alex, no, PLEASE!” You wailed hoarsely as if he was leaving you alone with a poltergeist. You couldn’t let that poor boy be subjected to such pitiless inhumanity just because he associated with you out of the kindness of his heart. The thought of it was equally as painful as anything Alex could throw at you.

You whimpered out pleas as you pawed at his legs with tight embracing arms, burying your face in the back of his knees and undoubtedly dampening the fabric with tears. You knew you looked pathetic, most definitely stroking his superiority complex, but Alex murdered your dignity long ago. You were more than willing to beg.

He took a turn to look down at you. Surprisingly softly, his hand leaned down to allow his fingers to trace your jawline. His unreadable gaze stared back into your leaking eyes that held a begging look. He smiled, and for a moment you had a hopeful belief that he would grant mercy and maybe instead take it out on you. But that naive, childish hope was shattered like an ornament the second you noticed that malicious glint in his orbs.

And before you could feel your fear warn you about what was to come, Alex had snatched your throat, receiving your sharp wheeze as he engulfed it in his big hand. He compressed tightly to force you up and off your knees, slowly as to enjoy the sweet sounds of your choking gasps. He slammed you against the wall by your throat and held you there, his strong grip never once faltering. Your hands swung upwards, switching back and forth between trying to pry his grasp off to allow a desperate breath for air and clutching onto his sleeve and forearm for support and something to hold onto through the dizzying pain.

Numb fear filled your bloodshot eyes to the brim and his reaction was a toothy smile. He leaned his sinister expression close to the side of your face that was paling close to a bluish tint. “Such a bad girl for lying to me.” He husked in your ear which would’ve sent shivers spiraling down your bones if you weren’t so distracted by the lack of oxygen to your brain and the spots that began to form in your vision. You heard his voice ring in your ears yet you didn’t understand what he said, but you just knew it was something dark and chilling.

He suddenly removed his face from your cheek to look directly into your dilating pupils to show a kittenish smirk and bright eyes, but his squeeze remained unforgivably tight on your windpipe. He said in a mockingly innocent and forgiving tone, “But all relationships go through a bit of a rough patch, don’t they? We’ll push through this just like we always do. Any bastard that tries to skvat you from me just doesn’t viddy what we’ve got, my love.”

Your overwhelming wheezing, deep gasps became more turbulently desperate as a red substance began to rim your eyeballs. That was when Alex decided it was time to release you, gently letting go of your neck. A powerful gasp of air shot down your esophagus before his hold on you weakened enough to allow you to fall. However, when you fell, you fell right into his kick to your stomach. You landed on your side on the floor with a pair of pained whimpers and grunts, blood smearing around your gums and teeth.

Alex didn’t stay a second longer after the kick to torment you as he instantly continued on his way. “Love hurts, sweetheart!” He called out over his shoulder once he grabbed his cane that he left leaning on the wall beside your door and rested it on his shoulder blade. He escorted himself out like he was just going to run an errand.

You were left to tremble on your floor with one arm hugging your assaulted stomach and your free hand softly touching your burning throat. You moaned from the awful pain for a while, dealing with the difficulty and pain with breathing and swallowing. Your head was aching and you felt sick. When you finally managed to get a steady breath you used it to retch out the blood in your mouth while still laying on your side, creating a crimson splatter mark on the floor. The foul tasting blood still dripped down from the corner of your lips.

As your tired eyes grew lachrymose, a wet sniffle was heard from your petrified form. More followed. And more. And more. And more until one inhale with your frowning mouth triggered an agonized sob to escape from your burning throat. Hot tears finally streamed down your face, so hot you felt like they were leaving burn streak marks.

Gut-wrenching sobs filled the dead silent room and your face flushed pink from the intensity of your breakdown. Your tears poured out of your eyes like there were faucets linked to them as you weakly pushed yourself up. Anguished sobs and snivels still continued with full energy. You got yourself to stand, though with a hunch from the pounding pain in your gut, and walked yourself towards your bedroom with a shake to each step while leaning against the wall for support.

You finally reached the side of your bed, yet when you put one hand on it your knees buckled. You crumbled to the floor and into the corner that was in between your nightstand and bed. More sobs escaped you as you cradled into that corner like a child scared of the monsters in the closet. Eventually your cheeks became so wet from tears someone wouldn’t be able to tell what were new trails.

Your quaking hands reached up to grip onto the roots of your hair as your lips quivered over the faint hyperventilation. You released a manic, miserable yell as you began to slam your head against the floorboards. You couldn’t live like this anymore, you couldn’t bear another day of being Alex’s little doll to play with as he pleased. How could he claim to love you and adore you more than Beethoven when he did such awful things to you?

You contemplated if the fall from the height your window was at in the building was high enough to kill you. Yet you were more scared of more pain. You contemplated plotting out Alex’s murder. But you knew you didn’t have it in you to do it. Even if someone put a gun in your hands, saying you could either put the bullet through your head or his, you’d probably drop the gun. Alex had shaped you into a coward. Your old self would’ve been disgusted and furious at you for becoming this.

You didn’t sleep at all. All night long you lived in the haunting fear that he was going to come back to punish you for the attempt to break free from him; every minute was spent thinking it was going to be any second now. Any second now. Any second now…

Your red puffy eyes shot open from the clanking sound of your mail slot that squeaked throughout your flat, your daily newspaper sliding through. The daylight that peeked through your shades caused you to squint back, your hand moving up to touch your head from the way it ached due to your lengthy mental breakdown that had lasted for the majority of the night. It also probably ached from the position you woke up in, not even realizing that you fell asleep while anticipating Alex’s chilling return.

But he never came back. Which was… strange… for Alex.

You fearfully and fidgetly did your best to go about your day, at least your day inside. You were far too beyond frightened to leave the building, having a deep rooted fear of coming home to Alex hiding somewhere. And the thought of going out in public nearly made you sick because of the anxious agitation that clung around you like heavy chains.

But Alex never came back.

It would’ve been amazingly nice to have a full day off from Alex… if you had a notice. The whole day you kept the front door in your peripheral vision just because of the overwhelming fear that he would come back at literally any second. So after you contained his cold dinner to put in the fridge and you tucked yourself into your sheets, you had realized you wasted the entire rare day of Alex’s absence by being maddeningly paranoid.

Even in the morning you were very off-putted by the fact Alex still hadn’t come back, not even in the night which were his most active hours. You stirred your coffee in your kitchen as you stared off into space, debating if you should call off work today… again. You knew they just had to have been thinking about firing you due to how many times you called off, Alex of course being the reason. You believed the only reason why you were still employed was because your motherly and sisterly coworkers vouched for you endless times and also rationalized your excuses.

You jumped at the sound of your mail slot, the sound of your morning newspaper hitting the floor following. You swallowed and placed your hot mug down to walk to your front door. Crouching down, you picked up the thick roll and opened it up as you walked back to your kitchen. The first three pages were nothing interesting, just articles of oil and advertisements for wall painters and city politics.

The fourth page, however, caught your attention so intensely it halted your leg movements. Because there, right before your eyes, printed in black ink were the words about the arrest of a young man named Alexander Delarge. Your widened eyes stared at the printed name for some time, your mouth hung agape and your heartbeat nearly silenced.

This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t… It was too good to be true. Your psychosis was playing a cruel, hallucinated joke on you to mock you and your childish hope.

But you finally dragged your disbelieved pupils across the sentences to see the key statements, only those sticking out to you as the words blended together in a blur. It was as if the two statements stood out in a yellow highlight, “------murder charge—----sentenced to 14 years in State Jail.”

Something dripped on the thin paper you held in your tight hands. Another drop followed. The liquefied form of absolute pure joy slipped out the corners of your eyes as a genuine smile stretched across your face. A breathy laugh escaped your throat. As you cried tears of joy and your smile embiggened, heavy laughter bellowed out of you. You reread the words over and over again while you elatedly laughed like a madman.

You were so happy about Alex’s arrest that your attention didn’t focus on the sickening guilt you owned for the murder of Patrick. But… he did say he really wanted to help you, and coincidentally his death was the greatest help of all. It practically served as a sacrifice for your freedom. Maybe two wrongs did make a right.

Though his death was still caused by your interaction from his selfless concern for your safety. But that was something that could eat you alive tomorrow. Today was yours. So what did you want to do first?

You put on a very specific record. The record Alex claimed was yours and his song, which made you grow to despise the song with every fiber of your being, the lyrics feeling so mocking to you and your predicament that you wanted nothing more than to shove your palms over your ears when it played. Yet now… you found it to be a beautiful melody.

So as Cilla Black’s “You’re My World” played from your record player, you danced as if you were head over heels in love. You spun and leapt around your flat, flailing your arms around and mouthing the words dramatically. You danced to your fridge and swung it open like you were in a stage play, snatching the contained and untouched dinner for Alex last night and gracefully chucked it into the garbage.

“You're my world, you are my night and day~”

You grabbed the two cartons of milk and poured the two white liquids down your kitchen sink drain, still mouthing the song words overjoyously.

“You're my world, you're every prayer I pray~”

Light on your feet, you danced back into your living room in the direction of the framed photo of you and Alex that he put up himself on your wall. It was a picture from Alex’s birthday when he went to your restaurant for the free Birthday Special lunch during your shift. Your manager thought it was adorable thus took a picture of the two of you as you sat with him in the booth. Alex was facing the camera with a big smile and was leaning backwards so that you could rest your chin on his shoulder. He had a hand on the side of your face and was pushing it closer to him so that his and yours cheeks were squishing together. You were forcing a smile yet your eyes remained miserable.

Since it was just such a cute photo, your manager framed it on the Birthday wall at the restaurant and gave you a copy. Alex already had so many pictures of the two of you in his bedroom and didn’t really have any room left for another so he mounted it on your living room wall. You always hated looking at that photo, ironically the pose and position in the photo made it look like Alex was resting your decapitated head on his shoulder.

But now you were dancing towards the frame, pointing at it with a foxy expression like you were trying to seduce a real person. You reached the photograph and dragged your hands sensually down the wall on both sides of the frame as you still dramatically mouthed the sung words of Cilla Black.

“If our love~ ceases to be~”

You caressed the side of his face with the back of your hand before you tapped on his nose with your finger. Then you had grabbed the frame off its nails and spun on your feet once while you wore an overdramatic lovestruck expression. You ballroom danced with it around your living room.

“Then it’s the end of my world~”

You halted your dancing to mimic the singing belt as you put on mocking bedroom eyes towards the Alex in the photo. You leaned forward to kiss his face comically.

“End of my world~”

Your expression then switched to a badly acted and overdramatic face of sorrowful sadness during your lip sync of the song turning sad, the back of your hand on your forehead as you swung your head back like a damsel in distress.

“End of my world~”

Your head snapped back down, a small smile beginning to grow. Then you had chucked the picture frame to the floor with all your strength, glass shards sliding from the impact.

“For~ me~”

#Spotify #reader insert #yandere #yandere x reader #dark fic #yandere alex delarge #alex delarge x reader #alex delarge #a clockwork orange #clockwork orange #malcolm mcdowell #yandere Alex Delarge x reader #stanley kubrick

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belladonnasmenagerie · 3 years

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🎃Kinktober 2021 List🎃

🔞18+ Only🔞

Oct 1: Mommy Kink & Dry Humping with Brahms Heelshire

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/663851566525235200/kinktober-day-1

Oct 2: Spitting & Somnophilia with Leslie Vernon

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/663941271497359360/kinktoberday-2

Oct 3: Quickie & Oral Female with Bubba Sawyer

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/664049308435382273/kinktober-day-3

Oct 4: Yandere & Choking with Harry Warden

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/664124093888610304/kinktober-day-4

Oct 5: Fingering & Breast Worship with Norman Bates

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/664264794865647616/kinktober-day-5

Oct 6: Lap Dance & Teasing with Otis Driftwood

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/664443514372997120/kinktober-day-6

Oct 7: Brat Taming & Overstimulation with Lestat De Lioncourt

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/664543126211461120/kinktober-day-7

Oct 8: Leather & Size Kink with Jessie Chromium

https://pumkinbutter2396.tumblr.com/post/664731310252867584/kinktober-day-8

Oct 9: Cock Warming & Begging with Asa Emory

Oct 10: Blood Kink & Sex Toys with Amanda Young

Oct 11: Wax Play & Role Play with Vincent Sinclair

Oct 12: Exhibitionism & Hickey/Biting with Matt Cordell

Oct 13: Age Gap & Denial with Ash Williams

Oct 14: Pant Ripping & Aphrodisiac with Herbert West

Oct 15: Lace & Sexual Tension with Bo Sinclair

Oct 16: Erotic Humiliation & Edging with Pinhead

Oct 17: Striptease & Being Recorded with Tiffany Valentine

Oct 18: Glove Kink & Car Sex with Hannibal (2013)

Oct 19: Spanking & Degradation with Mark Hoffman

Oct 20: Slow Sex & Lingerie with Carrie White

Oct 21: Knife Play & Dirty Talk with Freddy Krueger

Oct 22: Dub-Con & Bulge with Yautja (Ka’Jah or Ka)

Oct 23: Cumflation & Non-Con with Alex DeLarge

Oct 24: Public & Cream Pie with Jason Voorhees

Oct 25: Oral Male & Medical Kink with Severen

Oct 26: Femdom/Pegging & Mirror with Billy Lenz

Oct 27: Double Penetration & Semi Public with Stu Macher

Oct 28: Ass Worship & Cheating with Patrick Bateman

Oct 29: Breeding & Squirting with Michael Myers

Oct 30: 69 & Anal with Thomas Hewitt

Oct 31: First Time & Needy with Billy Loomis

🎃 Will start posting it in October so excpect it soon!! 🎃

#slasher #slasher smut #slasher x reader #smut #horror #kinktober #october #halloween #slashers

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angelofthenight · 4 months

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What Doesn’t Kill Me Pt.2

(Yandere!Alex DeLarge x Fem!Reader)

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Ladstat, Swearing/Language, Unhealthy/Abusive relationship, Jealousy/Possessiveness, Social isolation, Obsessiveness, Controlling behavior, Intimidation/Coercive control/Power imbalance, Emotional/Mental trauma, Violence, Gangs, Manipulation, Physical abuse, Snake phobia, Boundary pushing, Mentions of Rape/Non-Con, Paranoia, Sexual context/themes, Alex is his own warning, You are responsible for your own content consumption

Word Count: 3.9k

Table of Contents

Alex Delarge was nothing but a sadistic maniac with a disturbing infatuation for you. A lunatic who could never keep it in his pants. A sociopath who acted like he’s never seen skin before. A monster who claimed to simply be in love.

And the belief of being in love was the worst thing a monster could have.

Despite his charming tone of voice and smile, despite him telling you in different words and metaphors that he loves you, he was awful to you. It was as if his infatuation and fascination with you further eroded any remaining empathy he possibly had left in him before he started to like-like you, which made him indifferent to the suffering or pain he inflicted upon you and others in the name of his delusional love.

And one of the things that created a confusing and fear-inducing environment for you was the fact that he casually alternated between moments of false kindness and extreme violence. He could be playing with your hair and telling you how pretty you were one moment then throwing a glass cup full of liquor at the wall beside your head in the next.

He used your own fear to keep you grounded and dependent. He used threats to you and others to strain you from seeking help or “tattling”. And along with fear, he employed manipulative tactics to isolate you from your friends and family. And the people he couldn’t exactly detach you from, like all of your coworkers and management, he charmed them into thinking he was this picture perfect boy.

Because of this false image of himself, you’ve despairingly found him repeatedly warmly welcomed into the restaurant you worked at. So you couldn’t even get away from him at work. Sometimes he would bring his droogs with him and seat themselves into your section. You’d watch from the back with tears in your eyes before swallowing them to go and wait on the criminals, knowing Alex was just going to flaunt his dominance over you to the boys by jokingly mocking you as you served them. They never tipped, though some days you noticed Pete linger behind the group a bit to sneak in a 15% tip under the bill.

Alex was possessive and controlling, yet he continuously pretended that he wasn’t insanely jealous of all your interpersonal relationships. He isolated you from all your friends with the threat that he would do something violently heinous to them, and he had proved to you to be true to his threats after multiple instances. He also had cut off any contact you had with your family. He claimed that he was all the company you’d ever need.

Even though his love was intense and twisted, and despite the mix of obsession and a desire to control every aspect of your life, you were still allowed to still go out and continue your life just… with no interactions longer than a minute. Especially with boys. Just seeing other guys around you drove Alex absolutely ballistic and homicidal. It was often when he would lash out at anyone who got too close to you. His overprotectiveness and his jealous greed just all overwhelmed him. He had repeatedly gone to extreme lengths to protect you, even if it meant resorting to violence. But in his twisted mind, he believed that his actions were justified simply because he was acting out of his love for you.

Even though other gangs already used to stay away from you when Alex simply just pined after you, now they really wouldn’t touch you now that you belonged to Alex. And if he ever found out another gang messed with you he would maul them all like a savage bear. He became increasingly violent and controlling, going to extreme measures to eliminate any perceived threats to this relationship of his.

He wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way or let anyone take you away from him. Not even you.

He’d use manipulation and mind games to keep you grounded, but he mostly just used fear and violence to control you. And it was a frequent thing that you found your throat being squeezed by his large hand in a fit of rage or just for fun. It took awhile, but he finally trained obedience into you. And with your obedience, only from you being utterly terrified of him, you finally got to see where he lived.

He was like a little boy excitedly showing you his room, tugging you by your hand to show all his records, especially the one from the band that united the two of you in the first place. They say that one’s bedroom was what the inside of their brain looked like, and you agreed on that statement when taking in Alex’s bizarre room. Especially when your eyes honed in on a very large poster on the wall of a traced girl with her thighs apart, her fingers spreading her vagina open.

Alex noticed where your attention was and stepped next to you to say while smiling, “Don’t get jealous, it doesn’t compare to the real thing.” He glanced down at your crotch with carnivorous eyes before telling you he had something to show you. You didn’t pay him much mind as you then dropped your concerned focus to the small four Jesus statues in a dance line, their hands still having bloodied nails.

You finally turned your head to check out what Alex wanted you to see only to be faced with a five foot long Boa Constrictor snake. You screeched loudly and flinched backwards, you couldn’t help it when you had a slight phobia of snakes.

“Don’t be poogly, my lovely, he’s not venomous. This here is Basil!” Alex said to you cheerily, holding the snake out to you as it laced around his forearms. Your eyes grew wide as you paled, you wanted to faint just at the sight of it. And the thought of touching it…

Either Alex didn’t register your disquietude or didn’t care as he wrapped his heavy snake around you starting with your arms and ending with your shoulders. You froze up completely with your features trembling in alarmed fright as the snake slithered around you, making your heart beat rapidly. Your lips were quivering and your eyes appeared blurry from growing tears. You would’ve thrown it off you if you didn’t feel paralyzed by the fear that if you just moved a muscle it would strangle you to death. Yet that fate seemed kinder than the fate with Alex.

It wasn’t until the snake slithered around your neck when your arms began to shake uncontrollably and a palpitation conquered your chest. As if it felt your pulse tap against its scales, it slightly tightened its hold on you. You snapped and loudly begged Alex through stuttered whimpers to get it off of you.

He callously giggled before he unraveled it from your jittery arms. “Alright, alright, don’t lose your head!” He joked. You did not find it funny.

Alex would make you listen to Ludwig loudly and make you listen to his rants and complaints about his day and his droogs. From what it sounded like his droogs have been questioning his leadership, you kept your theory that they were probably plotting behind his back to yourself. You eventually got to meet his droogs when you were once leaving Alex’s and they sat in the area at the bottom of the stairs. They already knew their place with you.

Alex only allowed his droogs to say hi and bye to you and maybe ask how you were doing, but that was it. You were an occasional topic the three droogs discussed when Alex wasn’t present, specifically about what they should do with you if they usurp Alex. Georgie had a fantasy of having his way with you simply because of how much Alex endlessly threatened them about you, like how you belonged to Alex and if they ever touched you he would castrate them. So fucking you would be like the ultimate middle finger to Alex.

But Georgie and Dim didn’t really see the appeal to you. Of course you were absolutely breathtaking, they all had eyes and wet dreams, but you just looked like you were about to bawl your eyes out at any given second. Alex fucked you up so much that if they tried to do the old in-out-in-out with you you’d probably just let them. And that was boring to them. You were like a doormat and plus you just kind of… bummed them out.

Though, Pete secretly had a harmless thing for you, always being the first to say ‘hi’ to you and the last to say ‘bye’ to you; being the only one of the three to ask how you were doing, really abusing the one phrase that Alex allowed them to say to you.

You could recall one time when you were descending Alex’s stairs to see them all waiting for Alex who trailed behind you. “Hello and goodbye, boys.” You said hoarsely with a pink puffiness circling your eyes and cradling your bandaged dorsal side of your arm that Alex had bitten into too deeply during a long night of fornication. Georgie and Dim both unenthusiastically mumbled a “hello, (Y/n)” in unison as you quickly passed them with your head hung low. You went straight into the rusty elevator and hit the button just as Pete squeaked out a “bye, (Y/n)”.

The doors closed yet because of how crappy it was, the elevator needed a quick minute before it could move you down. So you heard the beginning of the conversation that was about how Alex was late again so they came to wait for him. Georgie noted that he had been spending an awful lot of time with you lately and Dim joked that “The girl might’ve rotted your brain a bit?”

There was a haunting silence. The elevator finally jerked and started moving down just as a loud crack of a cane was heard followed by a pained yelp. It made you jump backwards in startelement, your back hitting the wall of the elevator as the continued sounds grew more distant.

You had spent the night at Alex’s many times, waking up to his nude body behind you with his arms cradling your nude body tightly against him; your back to his chest. His twin bed was small, not being built for two people sleeping next to each other, so the only two positions you could sleep in were him sleeping right on top of you or him squeezing you tightly against him to fit.

He always slept in which was torture for you as you always found it difficult to sleep around him. So you would stare into space for hours in a gloomy and drained state. You couldn’t get up and leave as his door had a combination lock on both sides. He’d spin the lock too fast for you to memorize or even catch the numbers.

Most days he’d send you off right away if he had a busy day ahead of him or before his parents had the chance to speak to you. But some days he’d keep you around a little longer just to take up your time. But because of this you once met his social worker who let himself in to have a discussion with Alex about his school attendance.

Alex, in only his underpants, stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as a way to exemplify his innocence to the social worker as they talked and a threat to you to not say anything. But despite you not saying a word, the older creepy man took a mental note on your downcasted mood and quaking eyes. And the subtle bandages in a few places on your body.

But despite the horror of vulnerability in his home, you had grown to find your own home much more horrible.

You became a housemaid in your own home, a slave and a captive. Alex expected your flat to always be neat and tidy when he came, and better than how he leaves it. And not just simple tidiness, he would run his finger over surfaces for dust. He was a nitpicker about what needed to be cleaned or organized. Despite him not getting violent or aggressive about it, just his mere disapproval scared you enough to cater to those expectations. You couldn’t even fall asleep before scanning your whole flat in fear he would find something you didn’t notice to complain about.

You always had to cook for two just in case he showed up, always unannounced, ready to eat dinner or lunch with you (he never woke up early enough for breakfast but you would rather be safer than sorry). And every time you didn’t he would accuse you of not wanting him to show up, leading to him either brutally slapping you or choking you against the wall. And it had to be food he liked. And you always had to make sure there was milk and alcohol in the fridge, as well as drugs and marijuana he forced you to get.

There were oh so many times when you were extremely close to switching one of his drugs to a physically identical yet fatal substance. Yet you lived in the unearthly terror and dread that he would find out.

You lived on edge at home, jumping at the smallest creaks and you destroyed your clock as the ticking drove your anxiousness absolutely mad. You were a mess of a person, a neurotic person to be more exact. You just never knew when he would show up. Show up to hurt you for fun, draw blood, fuck you into the mattress despite your pleas of ‘not tonight’, smother you in his unwanted affection, forcing you to listen to his jokes about all the monstrous things he did the night before in graphic detail.

He acted as if the innocent, simple dates he took you on and the expensive gifts he bought for you with stolen money evened it all out. But it didn’t. He had damaged you inside and out; emotionally, mentally, physically, and sexually.

You became a constant jittery person so the sound of a knock at your door nearly gave you a heart attack, jolting in a shake in your spot on the couch.

But… Alex never knocked.

You feared the day had come. You feared it was the day the droogs finally took down Alex and now they had come to kill you for knowing their crimes and identities. You were confident in your theory that the droogs were going to stab him in the back, and so you spent many nights praying at the foot of your bed for it to happen since it seemed more realistic than Alex’s death or arrest. Yet you also found yourself praying to God for the droogs to show you mercy and spare you. But that specific prayer didn’t feel as listened to, nor realistic to you.

So you slowly and cautiously walked to your front door with shaky breathing pumping through your lungs. You delicately placed your hands on the door so you could carefully peek through your peephole. Your shrunken pupils saw a boy your age from your college standing in the hall with his hands patiently in his pockets. You flinched away from the door when he knocked again, the worry for both of your safety’s embraced you like suffocation. If Alex knew about this…

You wanted to go hide and wait for him to leave but the fact you shared a class with him made you think this might be important. So despite your paranoia that Alex would learn of this interaction with the opposite gender, you unlocked and opened your door the size of your shoulder width. You didn’t greet him as you quickly looked down both sides of the hallway to check for your unhinged and possessive boyfriend.

When the coast was clear your obviously nervous eyes looked at the awkward guy, waiting for his explanation. He awkwardly smiled softly, his hands fiddling in his coat pockets. “Hi, I know we don’t really talk, but I’m in your anthropology class.”

You acted like a kicked puppy and looked like a sad clown painting, clinging onto your door like you were about to slam it at any second. “Yes… I know you…” You glanced down the halls again before looking him up and down. “…Why are you here?” Your voice was hoarse and quiet; shaky and weak.

The boy, whose name you recalled as Patrick, removed his hands from his pockets to nervously fold them together. “Well, I know it’s not my place but I’ve noticed you have been missing a lot of classes lately, which I found a bit out of character for you compared to how you’ve always been in school.” He said, referencing how you used to always be an exceptional student… before Alex conquered and messed up your life patterns.

You kept avoiding eye contact, glancing around the hall then looking to the floor then to the wall behind him. You wiggled a little bit in nervous discomfort. You wished he would stop digging and leave the way he came. “I just… I have bigger things going on in my life right now.”

Patrick nodded with saddened features. “I know. That’s not the only thing I came here to say. You might know my girlfriend, Sheila? She’s roommates with your friend Adrienne.” You shifted again, because of Alex you no longer interacted with any of your friends anymore. And the one you kept socializing with, one that called you often when Alex was at your place, had a violent surprise run-in with a masked gang wearing white and codpieces. You avoided her after she got out of the hospital, for her own safety and your own guilt.

“…We don’t really talk anymore.” You spoke in a hushed tone, staring at the floor again. He slowly nodded again with a sorrowful frown. “Yes, I know. Adrienne said you completely shut her out out of the blue one day, same with the rest of your friends.”

You didn’t respond. You didn’t even know how to respond. So you remained silent.

“It was actually Adrienne’s idea for me to come here. But I mostly just came here on my own accord.” He started with a firmer tone of voice. “I know your boyfriend. Alex. I’ve seen you guys together a lot around town. I went to school with him before he was held back then put in the correction thing, and our fathers work together.”

You shrunk away from him, squeezing the door and the doorframe while glancing into his concerned eyes then the floor once again. “…I’ll tell him you said hi then.” You said, beginning to lean back to close the door but his voice halted your action as well as him reaching out to you but not close enough to touch. “No, no. What I’m trying to say is…” He took a long pause, seemingly trying to gather the right words as he bit the inside of his cheek and his brows curved upward.

“I know what kind of person Alex is. And, forgive me, but I can’t help but worry about you. I just wanted to stop by and ask if you were okay. Because if he’s…” he tried to think of a softer way to say what he was suspecting was going on in your relationship, “doing bad things to you I can help you.” He ended his statement and offer with a frown and consoling look.

Your head began to feel dazed and a thick lump sat in your throat that you just couldn’t swallow away. You glanced around the hallway again, feeling your paranoia and fear crawl up your back like snakes with the intent to strangle you. “I appreciate your worry,” you finally made eye contact to use all your strength to morph your face into contentedness and force a small smile, “but I am happy and doing just fine.” But your smile merely looked like someone put fish hooks in the corners of your lips and lifted them up by the thread. And the thick gloss in your eyes and your eyebrows that curved up only made your expression more unsettling to Patrick.

“I’m happier than ever, I really am.” You forced yourself to say. Yet visually and audibly pretending to be happy to be with Alex made you ferociously sick deep in your stomach creating a nasty nausea, your mind only replaying the most traumatic things he’s done to you from the horrific raping to the strangulations.

“Are you sure?” He pushed, wanting to hear the consenting approval of his help from your own mouth. Your forced smile began to shake like it was a heavy weight you weren’t trained to hold, and your tears also grew so unbearably heavy that you believed if you just blinked they would cascade down your face. “Yes.” You forced yourself to say again through your shaking teeth and self-repugnance. You forced the words of, “I think you should go now.”

Patrick frowned but gradually nodded. He said something as he slowly turned on his heels to leave but the ringing in your ears deafened it out. He was leaving, this was the first person to seriously reach out to you and offered you help and an escape, and you were sending him away! Were you really going to pass up this rare opportunity? You were practically digging your own grave and picking out your own tombstone. You were walking towards the edge of the cliff while thrashing your arm out of the hold of someone trying to tug you away from it.

You realized you couldn’t live in fear of Alex forever, you had to take the leap of faith and trust yourself to outsmart Alex. All you had to do was make a phone call when Alex wasn’t around: the early morning where Alex would still be asleep at his flat. You wanted to leave Alex more than you ever wanted anything ever in your whole life.

“Wait… please.” You squeaked out in a hushed tone as the tears finally drizzled out of your pink eyes, Patrick quickly returning to his previous stance to face you. You weeped for a few seconds to gather your thoughts before you moved to the side to rip off a corner of the morning paper that laid on the coffee table beside your door, grabbing the pen as well. You handed them both to him. “What’s your number?”

Patrick smiled happily for you before quickly jotting it down and handing it back to you. You quickly hid it in between the pages of the newspaper. You looked back at him with your bottom lip quivering and tears still swelled up within your orbs. “Thank you.” You croaked through your restrained sob, eyes bright despite the tears as you appeared like you’ve seen an angel.

Someone had finally sent you down a rope into your hellhole.

#reader insert #yandere #yandere x reader #dark fic #yandere alex delarge x reader #yandere alex delarge #alex delarge x reader #alex delarge #a clockwork orange #clockwork orange #stanley kubrick #malcolm mcdowell

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angelofthenight · 4 months

Text

What Doesn’t Kill Me Pt.1

(Yandere!Alex Delarge x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You were finally free from your abusive and obsessive “boyfriend” when he was arrested with a long sentence. But when he comes back to you on his knees in tears after the Ludovico's Technique, you can’t help but welcome him back into your arms once learning that he is literally incapable of harming you ever again. Yet you begin to question your own morals.

Warnings: Yandere, Dark themes, Ladstat, Swearing/Language, Unhealthy/Abusive relationship, Sexual context/themes, Non-Con (off screen rape), Gangs, Obsessiveness, Home invasion, Sexual sadism, Physical abuse/Violence, Knife threat, Blood, Spitting, Brief pussy slapping, Alex is his own warning, You are responsible for your own content consumption

Word Count: 4.2k

( Fun Fact: I fucking hate Alex so much but I wrote a very long essay about A Clockwork Orange’s moral of redemption for my senior year of film studies class and I got an interesting idea for a yandere fic. Like how would the darling react if the yandere was “cured into being a good person”? )

Table of Contents

You hated Alex Delarge. You hated him. You loathed him. You despised him. But most of all, you were terrified of him.

On the contrary, Alex was head over heels in love with you. He was absolutely smitten with you and you were the center of his world.

You were practically forced to be his girlfriend. He just one day walked up to you and declared that you were his girlfriend now. And every day since that day was hell for you, the torturous part of hell that you are chained to.

Your soon to be nightmare all started when you two were just standing next to each other at the record store flipping through rows of records that were next to each other. He pulled out a record that caught your eye, it was one of your favorites, you thought you were the only one in town who listened to that band. Your passion for that specific artist made you smile and say aloud, “I love that record.”

He looked up at you with surprise in his eyes. He didn’t think anyone in town knew the record.

His silence made you awkwardly rant. “I honestly thought I was the only one in town who liked them. No one knew who the hell I was talking about when I would bring it up.” You gave a lighthearted laugh. “I love how the order of the songs makes a story and how each melody can, like, control what you feel. It’s a work of art. Gives me chills every time I listen to it.” You said all of this with your grin growing bigger, so happy you could talk to someone with taste.

The corner of Alex’s lips lifted up and his eyes gleamed with genuine joy, thrilled to meet someone who understands the brilliance of his favorite record. The two of you had a very long conversation about the record which extended to talking about other kinds of music. You both would drag each other around the shop to show the other some of your other favorite records.

You two instantly clicked and got along. Alex felt so comfortable with you, his mind felt at ease, and he enjoyed just simply talking with you. He’s never felt that way about anyone before. He actually enjoyed listening to you. You were so understanding, so open minded, so fascinating.

You two met in the record shop about three more times after that and would hang out for the rest of the day. You liked being around Alex. He was very funny and always put you in a good mood with his positivity. He was a very easygoing and eccentric guy; a rarity in this town full of people with sticks up their asses.

You thought nothing but good things about Alex. You really enjoyed having him as a friend. That is, until he fell for you.

In his own defense, how could he possibly not?

You were so kind and gentle with him, treating him as if he were your priority. You could get so feisty, like a house cat. As much as he loved his women defenseless and frail, your straightforward approach and no-nonsense attitude in situations that called for it really riled him up. You made him laugh and always had knowledgeable opinions. You were so smart and had an ability to be unashamedly open. And you had some real horrorshow groodies.

It was as if you were specifically and meticulously and personally made for just him. You had the same music interests as him, your exact physique was his dream girl body, your jokes always landed perfectly with him, your eyes were coincidentally his favorite color, and your breasts were the perfect size for his hands.

Alex didn’t believe in love, nor believe in wasting time seeking it. But you… you had just infected him with a fever no ice pack could soothe. Your ivy vines laced and intertwined around the wrinkles of his brain making you his constant thought. And those leaves left behind a poison ivy rash he couldn’t scratch away.

You were everything he had ever wanted. Everything he would never be… but still wanted to own.

After a night of exhilarating ultraviolence, terrorization, and vandalism with the gang, he felt such a rush. And because of that rush it was that moment where he realized he had to tell you the truth. He must have you. So he left his pals a little early to make his way straight to your apartment. He knew where you hid your spare key so it was easy storming into your living room and finding you cleaning up after yourself of your dinner.

Alex was too caught up in his adrenaline to take notice that he only took off his mask and hadn’t changed out of his gang-related wardrobe, far too focused on getting to you. But you had noticed. It was the very first thing you noticed as he stood in front of you with a breathless grin. And it was all you could focus on even as Alex declared with a cane in his hand that the reason as to why he’s been acting so strange lately was because he was in love with you.

Your iris’ were shaking and your breath was heavy within your chest as you took in the clothing from his bowler hat down to the visible codpiece. What he was wearing looked exactly like what one specific violent gang wore in the papers next to the article explaining the increase in gang terrorism due to the reduction in policing effectiveness. Juvenile delinquent gangs populated the streets because of how understaffed the police force was, most people barely even went out these days. But, for a reason you now understood, you always felt safe yourself when you went out into public, especially with Alex. But now you understood why you were safe when seen with him.

“Alex… what are you wearing? Is this a joke?” You shakingly spoke out, not responding to his confession which appeared to irk him. He took a step toward you which prompted you to take one back. Alex glanced down at his clothes and in honesty… he didn’t really care if you knew. He was creative with ways he could keep you quiet. He honestly kind of liked it if you knew.

"These here are just my nochy on the town duds with my droogs.” He announced with a sharp grin, gesturing towards his white clothes. “You won't dob me in, won't you, devotchka?” He said with a joking tone despite the threatening look in his eyes.

Your frown sunk down, your lungs feeling as if they were closing in on your heart making it harder to breathe steadily. Your hands wrung together in a nervous fashion as you seemed to cower away from someone you considered a friend. “Alex, you’re scaring me. I… I think you should leave.” You said with the delusional hope that he would respect your wish and exit the way he came.

But Alex wasn’t having it. “Leave without your answer?” He exclaimed as he held out his cane then slammed it down against your floor with one hand on his hip, tilting his head up with a sense of pride. “I think not.”

He wasn’t going to leave until he got your answer to his confession. You felt sick to the pit of your stomach. Your lips parted but no words were released. You didn’t know what to say, too caught up in the chilling realization of Alex’s secret life.

You’d be lying if you said you never really thought of him in that way, because you have once in a blue moon. How could you not with your handsome and funny male friend who always made time for you? You always teased the idea of dating him in your mind, experimented with the thought of being in a relationship with him. But it was never more than that though. More of curiosity and craving a partner rather than a crush.

You struggled to find the right words. “I… I… I feel… I-” You were torn between not wanting to encourage or provoke him yet also fearing your safety. “Spit it out, devotchka. Koshka got your tongue?” He giggled with a devilish smirk.

“I just…” You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, as if trying to swallow your fear, before it got too big that it would render you mute. “I really like you as a friend.” You fully expected him to lash out, scream at you, anything of the sort. But he simply cackled like a child.

“Nonsense, dearie!” He said in between the chuckles. “You’re just taken by surprise, is all! You’ll surely change your mind after some lubbilubbing.”

Your eyes widened in shock and horror and offense. You thrashed your arm up to point at your front door with a face full of upset anger. “Get out, Alex! I mean it!” You demanded, not believing this was all coming from someone you used to respect and think kindly of.

He, however, wasn’t phased by your raised voice and demand as he began to take swinging steps toward you, his cane lifting up to rest over his shoulder. “You’re not just gonna send me off without any sweet treat, are ya, love?” He said with a sick smile, his eyes going hooded with a predatorial shadow over his blue orbs that began to travel your body.

Your blood went cold, stinging your bones like frostbite, as you took notice of your nighttime wear. You didn’t plan for company and due to living alone you had the habit of dressing a little more indecently, as well as because you planned to go to bed right after finishing cleaning your dinner dishes. Your goosebumped skin hardly had the safety of coverage from your silk one-piece pajamas that consisted of thin tank top straps and shorts.

Your bottom lip grew so unbearably heavy that it began to shake, you taking a slow step back despite how close he’s gotten already. Your frighteningly alarmed eyes kept themselves trained on Alex’s as he stalked forward like a lion cornering an antelope, that shit-eating grin still intact.

“Y’know,” he started while he slowly began to close in on you as you walked backwards, “I think, deep down, you’re a bit of a bad girl.” He said, a tone a tad darker than before which only made your heartbeat pump painfully in your pulse. Your terror was slowly swallowing you whole like a drain.

“I think you might get a kick of it if I come on strong, just a bit rough.” He said, and before you could react in fearful panic to what he was implying, he held both ends of his cane in his hands and swung it over your head to land on your lower back. He used the position of his horizontal cane to roughly pull you closer to close the gap, sending you straight into his chest.

You gasped at the action and instantly began to struggle, throwing your hands up in an attempt to push him away by his shoulders or to at least grant some distance between the two of you. But he kept you tightly against him. “Excited now are we, eh?” He chuckled down at you, your resistance getting him all hot and bothered.

Before he confessed how he felt about you, Alex had already assumed that you felt the same way. He had an intense belief in his own perception of reality and didn’t really consider the possibility that you may not share the same feelings. His view of love was distorted and interpreted any signs of kindness or attention as your reciprocation.

But Alex was a self-aware guy. He wasn’t blind and deaf to how you clearly did not want him by how you panicked and struggled within his hold. But now that he thought about it… he didn’t really care about how you felt. Your rejection surprisingly affected him a lot less than he would’ve guessed, it actually didn’t really hurt that much.

He was naturally driven by his own twisted desires and impulses. He just wanted to exert control and power over you, rather than to seek your genuine love and affection, even though he had to admit that those would be nice to have. It was like he was in his own world, detached from the reality of reciprocal love.

He loved you. And that was all that mattered. He could still do whatever he wanted to you. And with the right tactics, he could make you do whatever he wanted. So what exact difference would your feelings make?

Alex’s cane dug into your lumbar spine, springing a pained wince past your teeth. Your attention was so focused on the pain on your skin that you gasped in unpleasant surprise at one specific tug on your body that made your pelvis grind right into the bulge of the codpiece. You stifled your whimper behind your teeth, the hard pad rubbing a sensitive part of your clit as Alex continued this action with a malicious grin.

When he got you distracted enough he took the opportunity to quickly pivot around you, rotating his cane around your body from your lower back to against your neck. The sudden harsh pressure on your throat instantly made you wheeze, your hands flying up to grasp onto the stick to try to grant you some air but to no avail due to the imbalance of strength between you and Alex.

You felt his chin rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, his cheek also pressed against the side of your neck. You felt his smile and heard his pleasurable inhale through his nose. He was enjoying your struggle. He lifted his head so that his lips touched the shell of your ear, prompting you to make an effort to squirm away from his touch. But the grip he had on the cane across your frail throat made it easy to keep you as close as possible.

“Very well tomorrow’s your laundry day,” he practically purred into your eardrum which only created nausea that spread throughout your gut, “because those sheets of yours are about to get very merzky.”

If his innuendo hadn’t paralyzed you to absolute terror, you would’ve paid more fearful mind to the question on how he knew when you did your laundry.

You whimpered in powerless fear when he jerked you with the cane to force you to walk backwards. Well it was mostly him walking and your feet practically being dragged; your hands still remained on the cane to try to loosen its pressure on your cartilage. He led the two of you into your bedroom, jabbing his foot back to kick your door open in a wider frame. Once you were in he had tossed you onto the mattress with little care.

Tears began to prickle your eyes once you had collided into your bed, coughs following from the stinging pain on your throat as you gently touched where it hurt. You weren’t allowed much relief of personal space when Alex threw his hat to the side before crawling onto the mattress to reach you. He tightly grasped your biceps to flip you onto your back, him taking a comfortable seat on your waist.

He angled his torso above you and rocked his hips, grinding his clothed erection against your pelvis just once before he placed one hand next to your head. His other hand slowly wrapped itself around your face to force your shaking, watering eyes onto his carnivorous ones. He stared at you for a moment, a moment too long for your comfort. He stared at you and you could practically see the feverish twisted and covetous thoughts stream behind those bright blue eyes. And then a Cheshire Cat grin spread his lips after realizations awoke in his mind.

“Thou art such a beauty when you platch.” He said. The feeling of sadistic fervor and his far-too-long repressed lustful temptations were morphed together into bedroom eyes.

You went owl-eyed around your petrified pupils. Finally, you couldn’t hold the weight any longer as the situation became much too real to you and the heavy tears spilled out of your eyes. Alex’s smile widened before he pushed himself back up to straight posture, both of his hands reaching behind his back to unsheathe a dagger from his cane.

The sight of the long and sharp blade made your deep frowning lips part, a faint yelp weak in your throat. It was as if your horror stole all the words from you and left you far too terrified and weak to say anything. And your ears felt nearly deaf from the violent beating of your heart that rang in your eardrums. The only sounds you could hear were your scared sobbing wails and the sound of your pajamas ripping as he dragged the dagger down the clothing like a zipper.

Once sliced open enough, Alex placed the knife in his mouth to hold it with his teeth as he used his hands to tear it open the rest of the way. You were left in nothing but your panties, no bra due to the fact you had planned for independent slumber. But now you wished your sleeping customs were different as you laid exposed and helplessly vulnerable underneath the wicked monster you once felt joyful to call your dear friend.

And that monster’s eyes took in your vulnerability with a deranged infatuation; eyes that ravished the sight so hungrily. With the dagger still clenched between his white teeth, Alex’s hands were free to reach down and grope your breasts like dough. You whimpered with a feeble tremble, your leaking eyes squeezed shut in severe discomfort as you tightly gripped the sheets with white knuckles.

He grasped the side cups of your chest to push your bust together, giving him a better view of both of them at the same time. The action made you sharply inhale from the sensitivity, but it was as if that woke you up because you then felt the protective courage to snatch his wrists in an attempt to claw his unwanted touch off you; furious and disgusted by his animalistic audacity.

Your attempt of defense was rendered as nothing but a detriment to yourself as it was simple for Alex to free himself from your hold. One hand slammed onto your elbow to cage it to the mattress and his other hand retracted the dagger from his mouth to push it horizontally against your still hurt throat. Not hard enough to draw blood but hard enough to make you cower away from him and attempt to push yourself deeper into the mattress to escape the touch of the blade.

“Now, now, now, my dear darling.” He spoke with a sharp smile and pupils dilated in insanity. “Don’t do anything you will regret. Best to just lay back, relax, and enjoy the show. Maybe a couple of tears here and there for sweetness. But be the noble girl you always are and behave while I ravage your cunt.”

He turned the dagger diagonally to rest the tip atop the center of your collarbone. His grip on the handle was tight and you knew one wrong move on either of your ends would end with your blood gushing down your naked body. “I’d hate to carve up such elegant plott. It’d be a sin!” He tapped and glided the blade against your neck teasingly.

He leaned down to position his lips next to your ear. “But it’s a good thing I’m not a gloopy malenky dobby church boy.” He breathed out, causing your limbs to shiver in sickened fear. “I’m not afraid to get a little sinful.” He husked before he opened his mouth to drag his wet, warm tongue from your jawline up to your ear. Your joyless frown involuntary trembled.

Alex angled his face above yours, taking in your visibly terrified features and your salty rivers of tears and nearly salivating at the sight. “Now… Do you promise to behave?” He asked you with a cruel, mocking tone. The breathy, agonized sob you were holding occupied your throat so all you could do was reply with a twitchy yet compliant nod.

His smile practically lit up. “That’s my devotchka!” He exclaimed proudly before parting the dagger from your chest and instead moving it to rest against your jawline, allowing his thumb to caress your tearfully wet cheekbone. He dipped his head down to capture your lips within his for a sweet and simple kiss. He separated himself after he was satisfied with the taste to look up into your immensely glossy eyes with unfiltered fondness.

Your intoxicating lips tempted him to return for another, but quicker, deep kiss before his hands slid down your waist to hook his long fingers around the hem of your panties. He kept them there as he moved himself to come face to face with your sheltered cunt. Your frowning lips quivered as you bit them to ease your pounding heart. But not even your mind that tried to make you recite an entire work day in your head to distance yourself from your reality could distract you from Alex lifting your hips high up into the air so that he could straighten his back.

He smiled devilishly down at your forbidden flower with unhinged admiration laced within his features and eyes, your legs dangling over his shoulders. And without a hint he had shoved his nose straight into your clothed clit and took a deep, dirty inhale. You whined at the contact. He removed his nose to look down at you. “My, oh my. Your sladky von of strack is quite to die for, my dear.” He chuckled sardonically in his throat to himself before jokingly pecking a kiss to your clothed folds, creating a ‘mwah’ sound, and chuckling again at your second whine. He truly found your meek fear amusing.

He released the hold he had on your hips, letting your lower body plop back onto the bed with a bounce. Then he jumped the gun, his hands back onto the band of your panties and tugging them off down your shivering legs. Clasping his hands tightly onto your inner thighs, he pushed them apart to spread your legs wide open to put your cunt on full display for his ravishing eyes.

Breathy sobs began to invade your voice despite your desperate resistance to such. You just couldn’t believe this was happening. Your body shook as if you were freezing yet you felt your humid sweat as if you were boiling, it was a sickening feeling as your once sanguine world crumbled around you.

Alex retched inward to spit onto your clitoris, gave it a second to let his thick saliva ooze down your folds before using his fingers to rub in the slimy substance. He used an up and down then circular motion before giving it a slap, creating a wet, lewd sound.

You barely even registered Alex removing his codpiece then pants and boxers until he positioned his erection near your now wet hole and climbed on top of you, leaning his face awfully close to yours with his hands pinning your wrists. He relished the sight of your bloodshot eyes coated with hot tears and the sound of your distressed sobbing begs. A sense of sick euphoria swelled up within him.

Oh god how he adored you; his severe psychopathic obsession. Truthfully, Alex would’ve done whatever it took to have you.

He held a predatory gaze. “You’re my world, darling.” He purred to you before thrusting himself into you with a possessive claim and lustful selfishness fueling him.

Alex was right about your sheets. After a very long night of the old in-out-in-out, multiple rounds and positions and orgasms later, he finally left you on your bed and made his exit. Not without promising that he'd be back and proclaiming that you were now his and his alone though. And threatening you as well about tattling.

He was right, your sheets became filthy. They were vandalized with both of your climax’s and your blood, as well as your tears and a few rips that had been made with your gripping nails and his dagger. Your body was as vandalized as your sheets. The elegant skin of yours he seemed so fond of was now littered with bruises, hickey’s, bite marks, nail scratches, and small blade wounds (you just couldn’t stop yourself from resisting and fighting back so many times). But it seemed like he loved the sight and color of your blood as he had lapped it up every time his dagger and his teeth punctured into you.

You laid in the mess and weeped. Your mind was vandalized worse than both your sheets and body. Vandalized with betrayal, trauma, violation, dread, and a mortified horror. All of what Alex was deep down this entire time.

That was when your life became the torturous hell you had to live with.

#reader insert #yandere #yandere x reader #dark fic #alex delarge #yandere Alex Delarge #alex Delarge x Reader #yandere Alex Delarge x Reader #a clockwork orange #clockwork orange #stanley kubrick #malcolm mcdowell

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