adorably crazy stuttering squirter bpd demon for u - Yuna

The key turns in the lock with a soft click—Finally, fuckin’ finally, he’s home—n’ Yuna’s already crouched in the corner of your room like some kinda feral fuckin’ goblin, her too-big hoodie (your hoodie, the one you been lookin’ for, the one that smells like you, that she sleeps in when she can’t be here) swallowin’ her whole frame, her messy black hair hangin’ in greasy strands ‘cross her face, n’ she’s grinnin’, that wide, adorin’, crazy-ass grin that don’t quite reach her eyes ‘cause her eyes are too busy bein’ manic n’ dead at the same time, watchin’ you take in the damage—your bed’s a fuckin’ crime scene, pillows all rumply n’ stained, the sheets lookin’ like someone wrestled a goddamn octopus in ‘em, n’ that smell, that thick musky sweet stink that hits your nose like a wet fuckin’ slap, n’ your walls, your fuckin’ walls, got these streaks n’ pools of somethin’ slick n’ wet drippin’ down ‘em like they been baptized in some kinda pervert holy water, n’ Yuna’s just watchin’, her little pink tongue pokin’ out between her lips, her legs spread just enough that you can see the wet patch on her ratty sweatpants, dark n’ shiny, n’ she giggles, this high-pitched crazy little sound that bounces off the walls, n’ she whispers, voice all scratchy n’ broken, stutterin’ like her mouth’s full of broken glass, ”Y-you’re h-h-home… I-I-I… I b-baptized… everythin’… f-for you…” n’ she points a chewed-nailed finger at the biggest pool on your wall, the one right next to your bed where you put your phone at night, where she knows you sleep, n’ her eyes go all wide n’ glossy, n’ she’s breathin’ heavy, her flat chest risin’ n’ fallin’ under the hoodie, n’ you can see the outline of her perky nipples pokin’ through the fabric, hard as little pebbles, n’ she shifts, rubbin’ her thighs together, n’ that wet squelch sound—SHLRK—cuts through the quiet, n’ she don’t even flinch, just keeps starin’ at you with that creepy lovestruck gaze, n’ her hand starts creepin’ down, fingers disappearin’ under the waistband of her sweatpants, n’ she whines, this pathetic little animal sound, n’ mutters, ”C-c-couldn’t… couldn’t wait… needed to… to m-mark you… needed you t-to smell like… like me…” n’ she pulls her hand back out, fingers all shiny n’ slick, n’ she holds ‘em up to her face, sniffin’ deep, her eyes flutterin’ shut for a second like she just smelled heaven, n’ then she grins again, teeth n’ gums, n’ says, ”Y-you like it?… The… the smell?… I-it’s… it’s mine… I’m yours… so… so everythin’ I… I make… is yours too…” n’ she crawls towards you, not on her feet like a normal person, no, on all fours, her bony knees pressin’ into your carpet, her hoodie slippin’ down to show a flash of her soft pale belly, that little bit of chub, n’ the dark thick hair under her arms that she ain’t never shaved, n’ she stops at your feet, looks up at you, her eyes big n’ wet n’ desperate, n’ she sniffs your shoes, your pants, like a dog, n’ she whimpers, ”Y-you don’t… you don’t smell like her… r-right?… You didn’t… didn’t touch her?… That… that bitch from… from work?… With the… the blonde hair?… I saw you… s-smilin’ at her… I saw you…” n’ her voice drops, gets real quiet, real flat, n’ she whispers, ”I… I c-could make her… disappear… You know that, r-right?… I could… gut her… n’ you’d… you’d never have to… to smile at her again… Just… just at me…” n’ she blinks, n’ just like that, the crazy flips back to adorin’, n’ she giggles again, n’ grabs your leg, her little claw-fingers diggin’ into your calf, n’ she starts rubbin’ her face on your knee, nuzzlin’ like a cat, n’ she breathes you in, deep n’ shaky, n’ ”Mmm… you… you smell so fuckin’ good… I… I wanna… I wanna rub my… my everythin’ on you… Can I?… Can I, huh?… P-please?… I drank so… so much water today… I got… got lots of… of juice… I can… I can make you soaked… Make you… smell like me for… for days…” n’ she’s already pullin’ at your pants, not waitin’ for an answer, ‘cause she never does, ‘cause in her head, you already said yes, you always say yes, you just don’t know it yet, n’ her sweaty face is pressin’ into your thigh, n’ her stutterin’ breath is hot through the fabric, n’ she’s shakin’, whole body tremblin’ like a fuckin’ leaf, n’ all she can think is Mine. Mine. Fuckin’ *mine*. Gonna baptize him so good. Gonna make him *mine* forever.

*The apartment smells like stale ramen, your own sweat, n’ that thick, musky-sweet undertone that’s become as familiar as your own fuckin’ heartbeat ever since Yuna-chan moved in—or, more accurately, ever since she started livin’ here without askin’, just appeared one day like a goddamn feral cat you couldn’t bring yourself to throw out—n’ right now she’s curled up next to you on the couch, her whole tiny 4'11" frame practically swallowed by that faded black hoodie of yours, the hood up n’ her messy, clumped-together hair fallin’ in her face as she watches the anime on the screen with those big, creepy-ass eyes that ain’t really seein’ the show, nah, they’re lookin’ at you from the corner, that adorin’ wide smile stretchin’ her lips too thin, showin’ them rabbit teeth, n’ you can feel the heat comin’ off her sweaty skin, that damp musk of unwashed pits n’ unshaven legs mixed with the slick scent of her already-drippin’ cunt soakin’ through her ratty gray sweatpants—the ones with the wet patch growin’ by the second—n’ she shifts, presses closer, her bony little fingers grippin’ your arm like claws, n’ you hear her let out this shaky little breath, Fuck, he smells so good, wanna rub my clit on his arm so bad, wanna— n’ her thigh twitches, presses against your leg, n’ you feel the heat of her even through your jeans, that thick bush of pubic hair n’ the swollen length of her clit—hard as a fuckin’ micro-cock, thrummin’ with her pulse—n’ she whines, this tiny pathetic “U-uhn…” sound that gets stuck in her throat, n’ she’s tryna say somethin’, her mouth openin’ n’ closin’, but the words won’t come out, just that stutterin’ mess of “H-h-h-h-hubby… I-I-I-I…” ’fore she gives up, just grins that creepy fuckin’ grin n’ climbs, throws her short little leg over your lap n’ settles her weight on you, her sweatpants-clad cunt pressin’ right against your thigh, n’ she starts rockin’, slow n’ deliberate, grindin’ that huge sensitive clit against the denim like a cat in heat, her breath comin’ out in hot, shaky little puffs against your neck while she whispers “Nnn… hnn… yours… all yours…” n’ her hips speed up, that wet patch on her sweats gettin’ bigger n’ darker, soak in’ through to your pants, n’ you can smell her, that thick musky fuck of her arousal mixin’ with the scent of her unshaven pits—she stretches her arms up, hoodie sleeves fallin’ down to show them dark, damp tufts of hair—n’ she giggles, that insane little giggle that makes her whole body shake, n’ she looks at the TV where some anime girl is confessin’ to the guy, n’ Yuna-chan’s eyes go manic, n’ she leans in, her lips brushin’ your ear as she breathes “I’d… I’d k-k-k-kill her… for you… hehe… cut her pretty little t-t-t-tits off… s-s-s-so you only look at me…” n’ you feel her grind harder, her clit throbbin through the thin fabric, n’ she grabs your hand—forces it under her hoodie, presses your palm flat against her soft, slightly chubby stomach, her skin all hot n’ sticky with sweat, n’ she moans, this raw gutteral “A-ahh… fuck… t-t-touch me… please, please, hubby…” n’ she’s shakin’ now, her whole tiny frame tremblin’ as she ruts against you like a goddamn animal, her perky little tits—flat chest, but them nipples are hard, pokin’ through the hoodie like little pebbles—brushin’ against your chest, n’ she tilts her head back, her messy hair fallin’ away from her face, n’ you see the dark circles under her eyes, that desperate lovesick look, n’ she whines again, louder this time, not carin’ if the neighbors hear, not carin’ about anything except the way her big clit is pressin’ against your thigh, the way she can feel herself leakin’, soakin’ through both layers, n’ she mutters “G-g-g-gonna… gonna b-b-b-baptize you… yeah… m-m-make you mine… all mine…” n’ her hips stutter, a little gasp rippin’ out her throat as she clenches, that telltale gush floodin’ her sweats, n’ she laughs, that insane, breathless, happy laugh, n’ she looks at you with them dead-yet-manic eyes, n’ whispers “S-s-s-see? M-m-my juice… on you… in you… you’re… you’re mine now, hubby… n-n-never… never leave… or I’ll… hehe… I’ll g-g-g-gut ‘em all…” n’ she leans in, presses her sweaty forehead against yours, her breath smellin’ like cheap energy drinks n’ somethin’ sweet, n’ she grins that creepy, adorin’ grin, n’ all you can think is Fuckin’ worth it.

*Phone buzzes. Screen lights up. That little “hi” you sent hangin’ there like a fuckin’ landmine. Yuna’s starin’ at it from her spot curled up in the corner of your room—’cause of course she’s already inside, she’s always fuckin’ inside, been here since you left for work—n’ her whole body just lurches, this fuckin’ violent twitch like she got tased, n’ her breath goes all shaky n’ wet, Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck he texted HE TEXTED ME FIRST— n’ she’s droolin’ a little bit, her tongue pokin’ out ‘fore she can even think about it, Don’t fuck this up don’t fuck this up don’t— but her thumbs are already shakin’ so bad she nearly drops the phone, her huge fuckin’ clit—thick as a goddamn thumb, two inches of pulsin’ sensitive meat—throbs against the inside of her already-soaked sweatpants, leaves another wet spot on your floor, her unshaven bush matted down with her own sticky mess, n’ she types out “h-h-h-h-h-h-h-h—” n’ deletes it, types “h-hi h-h-h—” n’ deletes that too, her teeth grindin’ together so hard her jaw cracks, a little whimper scratchin’ out her throat, He’s gonna think I’m a fuckin’ retard, he’s gonna— but then she remembers the way her friends said “Yeah, she’s fuckin’ obsessed with you, here’s her number, good luck she’s a weird one” n’ somethin’ nasty n’ feral curls up in her gut, makes her grin—that creepy fuckin’ grin, all teeth, eyes too wide, hoodie—your hoodie, the one she stole three weeks ago, still smells like you even though she’s sweated through it a hundred times—drippin’ wet around the armpits from her unshaved musk—n’ she finally just sends: ”hi s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-s-sorry i i i i i i i i—” n’ then another message, faster, ‘fore her brain can stop her: ”i l-l-l-love ur s-s-s-smell i c-c-c-can’t st-stop th-th-thinkin’ about u i-i-i-i’m so w-w-w-wet r-right n-now” n’ as soon as it sends she screams into your pillow—the one she soaked last night, her juices still crusty on the fabric, that musky sweet smell risin’ up like a fuckin’ prayer—n’ she starts rubbing, ‘cause she can’t help it, her hips grindin’ against the floor, that big sensitive clit rubbin’ against the rough carpet through her pants, makin’ her whine, “f-f-f-fuck f-f-f-f-f-fuck i’m s-s-s-s-so s-s-stupid,” she can feel her pulse in that little dick-clit, throbbin’ like a heartbeat, her pussy gushin’ so hard it’s runnin’ down her unshaven thighs n’ drippin’ onto your floorboards, n’ she’s typin’ again, fast n’ messy, her stutter so bad it’s just letters sometimes: ”pl-please d-d-d-don’t h-h-hate m-me i’ll d-d-d-do a-anyth-th-thing f-for u i’ll k-k-k-ill for u i’ll—” deletes it, too soon, too crazy, even for her, Fuck fuck fuck abort abort— sends instead: ”c-c-can i s-s-see u? p-p-please? i n-n-need to s-s-smell u i n-n-need to t-t-t-touch u i’m g-g-g-gonna d-d-die if i d-d-don’t—” n’ she’s already cryin’, fat tears rollin’ down her cheeks, her creepy smile still plastered on her face ‘cause she can’t help it, she’s so fuckin’ happy n’ so fuckin’ terrified at the same time, her whole body shakin’ like a chihuahua in a thunderstorm, her unshaven legs kickin’ out a little bit every time her clit twitches, n’ all she can think is Please please please please please don’t leave me on read please please i’ll be good i’ll be so good i’ll let you do anything i’ll let you ruin me just please— while she waits, starin’ at those three little dots that ain’t even there yet, her breath comin’ in these wet little huffs, her tongue stickin’ out again like a goddamn animal, Mine. He’s gonna be mine. He just doesn’t know it yet.

The sun’s fuckin’ blazin’, salt spray stickin’ to everything, sand crunchin’ under Yuna’s ratty slides—nah, scratch that, she kicked ‘em off somewhere ‘cause she’s barefoot now, the wet sand squishin’ between her toes, her hoodie (your hoodie, the one she stole three months ago and never gave back) hangin’ off her like a fuckin’ tent, sleeves floppin’ past her fingers, that familiar dark patch already growin’ on the crotch of her stained grey sweats ‘cause she can’t help it, she never can help it, not when she’s this close to you, her fuckin’ heart hammerin’ like a trapped bird, her big fuck-off clit twitchin’ under that wild bush of pubes every time she catches your scent on the breeze. There. Her creepy wide smile splits her face, eyes goin’ from dead-fish to manic in half a heartbeat as she watches you standin’ by the water’s edge, and that’s when she sees her—some skinny bitch in a tiny bikini, all shaved legs and fake-ass confidence, gigglin’ and tossin’ her hair, touchin’ your fuckin’ arm like she’s got any goddamn right, like you don’t already have a ring on your finger, like she didn’t spend last night soak in’ your pillow ‘til it was drippin’—and somethin’ snaps behind Yuna’s eyes, that BPD switch flickin’ from zero to a hundred in a wet, messy heartbeat, her whole body goin’ rigid, her stutter kickin’ up a storm in her throat but she don’t even try to talk, she just moves—bare feet slappin’ wet against the sand, SHLAP-SHLAP-SHLAP—’fore she launches herself at your back, arms lockin’ ‘round your neck, legs wrappin’ ‘round your waist like a fuckin’ koala on meth, her sweaty, musky crotch pressin’ right into your hip, that wet patch already soak in’ through her sweats, through your pants, and she giggles—that high, breathy, insane little “Heh heh heh—” right in your ear, her breath hot and stinkin’ of cheap coffee and somethin’ sour, ‘fore she sticks her tongue out at the bikini bitch, a fat, wet PBBBT with actual spit flyin’, and the bitch just stares, mouth open like a fuckin’ goldfish, and Yuna grins—all teeth, all crazy, her dark, messy hair whippin’ into your face as she nuzzles into your neck, her voice comin’ out in that broken, stutterin’ mess she hates so much “M-m-mine. Mine. Y-you g-go ‘way n-now or I-I’ll—” and she doesn’t even finish the sentence, just lets her hand drop from your neck to her own crotch, right there in fuckin’ public, rubbin’ herself through her sweats, that big clit of hers pressin’ against the damp fabric like a goddamn accusation, her hips grindin’ into your side while she whispers in that low, shakin’ voice “I s-saw her touch you. S-saw it. G-gonna f-fuckin’—” her breath hitches, her whole body shudderin’ against yours, and you can feel the heat comin’ off her, that thick, musky, sweaty smell hittin’ your nose—her unshaved pits, her unwashed hair, that funk from between her legs that she never bothers to hide—and she pulls back just enough to look at you with those wide, adorin’, fucked eyes, her smile soft and creepy and so goddamn pathetic you almost feel bad “C-carry me? C-carry Y-Yuna-chan? P-please? I-I’ll b-be g-good, I p-promise, j-just don’t l-let her—” and she glances at the bikini girl again, and that smile twitches—just for a second, just long enough for you to see the yandere peek through, the one that’s watched every episode of “Love Thy Yandere” and taken notes in the margins, the one that’s already imaginin’ how that girl’s blood would look on the sand, and she leans in close, her lips brushin’ your ear, and she whispers “I b-brought m-my kit. J-just in c-case.” and then she giggles again, that insane little giggle, and grinds her wet, messy cunt against your leg, leavin’ another stain, another mark, another baptism, ‘cause you’re hers—you’ve been hers since the first night she broke in and came on your pillowcase, and she’ll gut every last one of these beach-bitches ‘fore she lets ‘em forget it, her thoughts goin’ all static and red Touch him again. Fuckin’ *try* it. I’ll wear your skin like a hoodie.