Entrapped hearts [Yandere Cult X Reader]

Option 2 (Drunk in love) 🔞

He feels a surge of energy. He starts to speed up, going deeper with each thrust. It's almost like he wanted to possess me, make me entirely his. Inside and out. The pleasure becomes unbearable, making me scream loudly but he doesn't care about the noise I'm making.

With each thrust the pleasure became too much to handle. I couldn't help but scream out in pleasure.

"Oh god, yes!"

It's almost like I was begging for more. My body shivered as he went deeper and harder.

As he continued to thrust, he started saying more and more things.

"Your mine now" he growls "You'll never leave me again" He kept repeating those words, making me believe that I'm his before

As he continues to thrust deeper, he leans in and whispers in my ear.

"Say my name, baby" He wanted me to repeat his name over and over again. He wanted to hear them from my lips

"Say it" he demanded, and without a second thought, I comply.

The way he thrust inside of me, I started to lose control over myself. I started to repeat his name just like he demanded. Over and over again, his name kept coming out of my mouth.

"Dean... Dean... Dean" The pleasure was unbearable

With each thrust, it became too much for me to handle. He started to feel me tense up, and he knew I was about to cum.

"Let go, baby" he whispered in my ear. And with one last thrust, I exploded with pleasure, screaming his name out again

After I came, he slowly slowed down and then stopped. He pulled out gently and laid on top of me, his chest heaving from the exertion. He started to kiss my neck softly and whispered words of comfort into my ear.

"Shhh, its ok" he soothes me

"You're so beautiful when you cum" He says, feeling proud of himself that no one else could make me feel the way he has. "You did so good, didnt you?"

The days blurred into one another, each one a monotonous repetition of the last. Dean's room, with its walls plastered with pictures of me, had become my new reality. The images, once a source of horror, now seemed almost comforting in their familiarity. I had grown accustomed to the constant surveillance, the cameras capturing every moment of my existence.

Dean had set up a large screen in the corner of the room, and the video of our first night together played on a continuous loop.

At first, I couldn't bear to watch it, the sight of my own humiliation too much to endure. But over time, I found myself drawn to it, the scenes of our twisted intimacy becoming a strange source of solace.

"Look at you," Dean would say, his voice a mix of pride and possessiveness. "No one else could ever love you the way I do."

And in a way, he was right. No one else had ever shown me the kind of attention, the kind of obsession, that Dean did. It was a dark, twisted love, but it was love nonetheless. Or at least, that's what I told myself.

I had stopped fighting, stopped resisting. What was the point? Dean had made it clear that this was my life now, and the sooner I accepted it, the easier it would be. So I did. I accepted it. I accepted him.

The room, with its countless images of me, had become a sanctuary of sorts. Each photograph was a testament to Dean's devotion, a reminder that I was the center of his world. It was a twisted kind of comfort, but it was comfort nonetheless.

Dean would often sit with me, his arm draped possessively around my shoulders as we watched the video together. "See how beautiful you are?" he would murmur, his lips brushing against my ear. "No one else could ever appreciate you the way I do."

And I believed him. I had to. Because if I didn't, the reality of my situation would be too much to bear.

One evening, as we sat together watching the video, Dean turned to me, his eyes filled with a strange mix of tenderness and intensity.

"Do you understand now?" he asked, his voice soft. "Do you see how much I love you?"

I nodded, my heart heavy with resignation. "Yes, Dean. I see."

He smiled, a look of satisfaction spreading across his face. "Good. Because you belong to me now. Forever."

The words should have filled me with dread, but instead, they brought a strange sense of peace. I had fought for so long, resisted for so long, and now, finally, I could let go. I could accept my fate.

As the video played on, I leaned into Dean's embrace, allowing myself to be enveloped by his twisted love. No one else could ever love me the way he did. No one else could ever understand me the way he did.

In the end, I realized, it was easier to accept the darkness than to fight against it. And so, I surrendered, allowing myself to be consumed by the abyss.

Dean's room, with its countless images of me, had become my world. And in that world, I found a strange kind of peace.

A peace born of acceptance, of surrender.

A peace that only Dean could provide.

And as the video played on, I closed my eyes, letting the darkness wash over me. This was my life now. This was my reality. And in that reality, I found a twisted kind of love. A love that only Dean could give.