Finding a Yandere in Reverse World

Chapter 11: Late Night Tea With Sis

I fumbled with the key, the metallic clink echoing too loudly in the quiet of the night as I finally managed to unlock the door. The cool air of the house rushed out to greet me, a stark contrast to the hot early September night I had left behind. As I staggered across the threshold, my vision swam slightly, the effects of the evening’s indulgence still lingering. My hand instinctively reached up to brush away the strands of brown hair that fell over my forehead, a futile attempt at composure.

“Jason,” a voice cut through the haze, sharp and clear.

‘I thought mom said she was working a detail tonight?’

With a sluggish turn, I found Brooke silhouetted against the soft light emanating from the living room. She was an anchor in the unsteady world around me, her brunette hair cascading like a calm river down her back, though the storm in her hazel eyes betrayed the stillness of her posture.

Clutched in her hand was a diary I have been writing. Meticulously preparing the contents for Erica to see when she inevitably steals it.

There are no lies in that diary, but it is loaded with the dirty things Erica, and I have done together and also the awful, awful things I wish Erica would do to me, like kidnapping and gagging me for nights on end and tying me up and playing with me like I’m her toy. She’s a yandere, but I want her to feel okay to take it up a notch. Hence, I figured I’d make a wishlist in the form of a diary.

‘Big oversight on my part that Brooke found it.’

“Brooke?” I slurred, confusion knitting my brow. “What are you doing up?”

She didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she threw the book onto the table with a force that made me flinch. It landed with a thud, the sound reverberating through the quiet house like a judge’s gavel, sealing some unspoken verdict.

“Are you drunk?” Brooke asked, her voice laced with a heartbreak I couldn’t quite understand.

The question hung between us, heavy and awkward. I looked down at my own feet, trying to find balance in both my stance and my words. “Yeah,” I admitted, though I wasn’t sure why it was an issue after confirming with Erica that it wasn’t illegal. “The legal drinking age is 18, Brooke. I just turned 18 in August, remember?” I said, trying to mask the unsteadiness in my voice with a half-smirk.

Brooke sighed heavily, the sound filled with a weariness that seemed too old for her young face. “That’s not what I mean, Jason.” Her eyes, usually so full of sisterly warmth, now bore into me with an intensity that made my heart stutter. “What the fuck happened to you?”

Confusion clouded my thoughts, my hazel eyes searching hers for clarity. “What do you mean, Brooke?” I stammered, feeling suddenly exposed under her gaze. “I’m still your brother. I still love you.”

Her lips trembled as she held back a storm of emotions, but when she spoke next, her words cut through the air sharp and clear. “Drinking? Dating Erica Knight, the literal town bully? Partying with a bunch of delinquents? You are acting like a slut, Jason.” The volume of her voice crescendoed with each accusation, reaching a pitch that echoed off the walls. “Did you let Erica’s friends all have their way with you, too?” she yelled, the hurt in her eyes now replaced with fury.

I flinched the words like a slap across my face. “Brooke,” I protested weakly, but she cut me off with a swift, dismissive wave of her hand.

“That’s not even the worst part. This—” she thrust the diary towards me, its pages bristling with my hopes and dreams, “—this is what scares me the most.” Her finger jabbed at an entry, her nail nearly tearing the page. “Read it out loud and tell me these aren’t the ravings of a sick man!” she demanded, and there was no refusing that tone.

I took the diary hesitantly, my hands trembling as I found the passage she indicated. The words swam before my eyes. I read out loud, my voice annoyed because I actually think the shit I wrote sounds fire.

“I crave the sensation of being utterly powerless, ensnared in Erica’s commanding embrace. I fantasize about her sneaking into my room late at night, her presence as silent as a shadow. She would bind my wrists and ankles with velvet ropes, each loop and knot expertly tied to leave no room for escape. The thought alone sends shivers down to my hard cock. Perhaps she could even drug me before binding me.” I breathe out.

“Keep going.” Brooke prodded me further.

“I dream of waking up in an unfamiliar place, a dimly lit room in the depths of Erica’s Mansion, where the air is thick with the scent of roses and anticipation. Erica would stand before me, a silhouette of power and desire, her eyes gleaming with predatory delight. She’d trace her fingers along my bound limbs, sending jolts of pleasure through my body. My heart would race, my breath quicken, as I lay helpless, awaiting her next move.” I stop again, looking at Brooke.

‘It’s so embarrassing reading this shit out loud. It feels like if Justin found out I wrote Elden Ring smut…. Which I don’t.’

“And then?” Brooke’s voice was low, barely audible, as she urged me to continue reading. Her expression was a mixture of disbelief and horror, but beneath it all, I could see the pain in her eyes.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, and forced myself to read on. “Erica unsheathes my hardened cock. With manic and hungry eyes, she mounts me like a noble steed. Taking me all the way to the hilt. She chokes me as she rides my cock. Telling me that she’s proud of me and that I am a good boy.” I blush with genuine embarrassment at the last line.

‘I wanted it to be exciting for Erica if she read it, so I tried to write it for her….’

She snatched the diary away before I could close it. “This isn’t healthy! It’s not normal!” Her voice was reaching that high pitch again, full of distress and frustration. She paced back and forth, running her fingers through her hair as she tried to formulate her next sentence. Finally, she stopped and faced me squarely, her posture rigid with determination.

“You need help, Jason,” she said solemnly. “Professional help. You’re fantasizing about being powerless, worse, being controlled and abused! After everything that happened... after the rape... don’t you see how destructive this is? Where did my shy, caring brother go?”

“Brooke,” I started my voice low and pleading. “It’s not like that. Erica... she understands me in ways others don’t. These fantasies, they’re something I’ve wanted my whole life.” But even as I spoke them, my words seemed hollow to Brooke.

Brooke’s eyes narrowed, her gaze piercing through me as if trying to understand the very fibers of my soul. “You think I don’t know what you want? I do, Jason. Better than anyone.” She glared at me as if I changed. Which, in fairness to her, is true. “This is certainly not it. You hated women until you were raped, for fuck’s sake.” Her voice broke slightly, revealing a tremor of emotions she typically kept hidden away. “But this... turning yourself into something you’re not, just to please her?”

I fidgeted uncomfortably, looking anywhere but her penetrating stare. The room seemed colder now, the shadows stretching out like fingers trying to pull me further into darkness. “I’m not turning into anything I’m not,” I retorted. “I’m just exploring...things I want to explore with someone who appreciates me.”

“Appreciates you?” Brooke laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just a raw, pained edge. “Or owns you? Jason, can’t you see the slippery slope you’re on? Today, it’s acting out fantasies; tomorrow, what? You become nothing more than a pr—”

“Don’t say it,” I warned, my voice rising in defiance.

“A prostitute, Jason!” she exclaimed, stepping closer, her brow furrowed in worry and something else, something like envy that she quickly masked. “You’re selling yourself short, letting her dictate your worth.”

‘THATS THE FUCKING POINT!’ I scream in my head. ‘She’s gonna fuck this up for me.’

“I am not selling myself short! I do those things because I love Erica! Because she loves me in ways no one else ever has or ever could!”

“Love?” Brooke’s voice softened, but her eyes were still troubled. “Is it love when one person holds all the power? When you disappear into someone else’s desires so completely that you can’t find where they end and you begin?”

“I know exactly where I begin and end,” I snapped back stubbornly. “And maybe...maybe I like not having control all the time!”

Brooke sighed deeply and looked away momentarily before returning her focus to me. “I see how she looks at you, the possession in her eyes. It scares me for you, Jason.” Her voice trembled now, betraying a vulnerability she rarely showed. “And it hurts... because I care about you more than you know.” Her admission hung heavy in the air between us.

Care? Was that all there was between us? Suddenly, my mind flashed back to moments i noticed this week with Brooke’s subtle glances and lingering touches that seemed more than sisterly in hindsight. ‘Could Brooke want something more? No this isn’t an incest story. Maybe in another life Brooke.’

Unsettled by the thought and unable to handle the intensity of the conversation anymore, I stood up abruptly. “This is who I am,” I declared fiercely. “Maybe it’s hard for you to understand or accept that part of me...”

“But can’t you see?” Brooke’s voice was a whisper now, almost lost beneath the weight of unspoken words and stifled feelings. “Can’t you see how much it would destroy me if something happened to you because of this... obsession with submission?”

Just then, I remember she mentioned knowing I was at a party earlier, despite that just happening before i got home. “How did you know I was at a party today, Brooke?”

Brooke’s eyes flared with a protective ferocity as she stood up to match my stance. Her hands were clenched at her sides, her knuckles whitening with the grip of her emotions. “I followed you, Jason!” she confessed, her voice cracking under the strain of her confession. “I needed to see for myself what kind of hold Erica and her world have over you after reading your disgusting diary.”

My heart thumped erratically against my chest, the revelation sending a jolt through me. The room seemed to spin slightly. Brooke had been trailing me? To protect me? Or did she see me as her own property? ‘Was she a prospective Yandere too.’ Suspicion shadowed my thoughts as I tried to read the intentions lurking behind her hazel eyes.

“Followed me?” I repeated slowly, my voice laced with disbelief and a hint of betrayal. “Brooke, what the fuck?”

Her gaze intensified, locking onto mine as if trying to convey a storm of unspoken confessions. “Yes, I followed you! You don’t understand what it’s like... seeing you drift further away into this dangerous obsession. I had to do something!” Her voice rose, a mix of desperation and determination echoing in the tense air.

There was something unsettling yet captivating about the fervor in her voice, the way her hands now reached out toward me as if she were trying to physically pull me back from a precipice only she could see.

‘No, Jason, resist; we can’t be a slut for any Yandere. It has to be only Erica. The die has already been cast.’ I reassure myself to not fall for the wicked woes of a new, taboo Yandere.

“I should be the one looking after you,” Brooke continued, her tone softening into a dangerous whisper. “Not Erica.” She stepped closer, reducing the distance between us until I could feel the heat radiating from her body. “Maybe I should be the one to confine you... keep you safe.”

The words hung heavily between us, charged with an intensity that made my skin prickle. The thought was simultaneously horrifying and strangely thrilling.

Her care tipping into control, her love bordering on possession.

Seeing my confliction, Brooke’s expression softened for a moment as she reached out to touch my arm gently. A touch that seemed to burn through the fabric of my shirt. “Jason,” she murmured, her voice tinged with a haunting sweetness that belied the madness lurking beneath. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

The atmosphere around us thickened with each passing second as I struggled to process her words, her desire wrapped in a veil of madness. Her eyes bore into mine fiercely yet desperately.

‘I am not a weak man. I am the strongest sub across the multiverse.’ I steel my feelings for Erica and back away from Brooke.

“No, I am not a cheater. I don’t give a fuck if you are a good candidate to be a dommy mommy.” I spoke with fury and arrogance. “I am madly in love with Erica.” I grab her wrist and separate her hand from my arm.

‘Ha, I’m not actually weak. I just choose to be weak.’ I laugh confidently in my head.

“Brooke I will always love you as a sister no matter what. But i can’t return your feelings. I’m genuinely sorry.” I speak honestly.

Brooke’s smile widened, a single tear still clinging to her cheek. She was emitting a very spooky vibe. I could see the turmoil within her, the longing threatening to consume her. She gripped my arm again, this time tighter. Nails digging into my skin.

“No matter what?” She spoke h. “Okay then, let’s test it.” Her voice was low, dangerous, and she pulled me towards the couch by my hair with an inhuman strength.

Genuine fear raced over my body. As someone who loves giving up control, terror was new to me. And I didn’t like it.

I stumbled, barely managing to keep my footing as she threw me down onto the couch.

“You like that, you little whore,” she hissed, her eyes wild, a mix of rage and desperation. One hand holding my wrists tightly above my head. It was terrifying, but exactly the way Erica fucks me.

I could feel the panic rising, genuine helplessness taking hold as she straddled me through our clothes, her eyes locked onto mine. They were filled with a crazed hunger, a yearning that I couldn’t comprehend. I could only cry out.

“Please don’t do this, Brooke!” I plead.

‘Why are women so much fucking stronger than me here!’ One of the things I loved the most about Erica has completely turned on me.

“Isn’t this just like what you wrote, though? Do you want me to take you to the hilt?” She laughed.

Brooke saw the tears running down my face when her gaze suddenly shifted, her wild eyes focusing on the unmistakable bulge in my pants. She went to grab it but then surprisingly stopped herself. She suddenly recoiled, her grip on my wrists loosening as she stumbled off of me, a mix of shock and fear contorting her features.

“What the fuck, Jason!” she shrieked, her voice shaking with a rage that seemed to consume her whole being. “I was trying to scare you, a warning of where your twisted fantasies would lead you! But look at you, you’re fucking hard!” Despite being angry, she still looked lustful. Just more reigned in all of a sudden.

She paced the room, her hands clenched into fists as she struggled to contain her emotions. I could see the anger bubbling beneath the surface, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“Why are you like this, Jason?” she demanded, her voice cracking with barely contained fury. “Why do you let yourself be dominated by Erica like this? Why do you let her control you?”

I couldn’t find the words to respond, my throat tight with the shame of my treacherous boner. I felt like a trapped animal, cornered and desperate for escape. But there was no escape.

“You don’t get to choose what makes you hard, Brooke,” I finally managed to croak out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just like you don’t get to choose who you love.”

Brooke froze, her eyes wide with shock as my words sank in. For a moment, it felt like the entire world had stopped spinning, like time itself had come to a standstill. And then, with a quiet sob, Brooke collapsed to her knees, her body wracked with tears.

“I’m sorry, Jason,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I didn’t mean to….. I just wanted…. I just wanted to protect you.”

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart as I look at Brooke, her body shaking with sobs. “Brooke,” I say softly, “I need some time to process everything that’s happened. Please, go to bed and let me have a few days to think things through.”

Brooke looks up at me, her eyes still filled with tears. “I’m sorry, Jason,” she says again, her voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just...” she trails off, her voice breaking.

“I know,” I say gently. “But right now, I need some space. Please, just go to bed, and we’ll talk in a few days. Okay?”

Brooke nods, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. She slowly gets to her feet, her movements hesitant and unsure. “Okay,” she says

Time passes as the silence in the living room settles.

‘Well fuck, If I tell Erica about this, she might kill my sister….. I really don’t want to keep this from her.’ I sit feeling guilty over this stupid boner as I reconcile what to do next.

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