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smileysuh · 7 months

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twisted fate

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer. He’s covered in blood, and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in- “Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily. At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours. It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.

tw/cw. murder/blood, dickhead vampire wonwoo, yandere subthemes, kidnapping?, biting, blood play, throat grabbing, manhandling, begging, controlling!wonwoo, praise, dirty talk, fingering, mean dom Wonwoo, multiple reader orgasms, finger-licking, choking, unprotected sex, big dick Wonwoo, size kink, slight dacryphilia, gentle spanking, dumbification, begging, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) darling, brat, pet, etc.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 14.3k

🍭 aus. vampire/vampire hunter au, soulmate au, enemies to lovers, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I guess for October I just put out bangers, this one has a lot of blood play cuz it's vampire wonwoo, so be warned

There’s something different about you, and Wonwoo notices the moment you step into the bar. He has his fair share of experience with places that cater to vampires, and after over a hundred years, he knows how to spot humans with an interest in his kind. Many of the women swarming around him have a certain look in their eye, their pulses racing with excitement, but you… well, there’s something off about the way you hold yourself.

You certainly look the part of a fang bunny, your attire all black, but you’re dressed much more conservatively than the lingerie clad girls that normally frequent this place. Still, even with your form half hidden under a leather jacket, Wonwoo can tell he likes what he sees of you.

Some of his friends like the hunt. They have big egos and take pleasure in chasing their food down, but Wonwoo doesn’t share in this thirst for a conquest. He won’t approach you, he’ll simply watch. It will be amusing to see what you end up doing tonight if nothing else.

His eyes follow you as you head to the bar, leaning over the counter to talk with one of the human workers. From a distance, and with the bar practically full of noise, Wonwoo can’t make out your words, but that doesn’t really matter to him. You’re interesting enough to watch, but Wonwoo’s not sure he’d actually care for anything you have to say, especially not when he can stare at your ass instead.

The discussion is a short one, and Wonwoo catches the bartender nodding in his direction. This is new behaviour, but the vampire supposes he shouldn’t be shocked at the loose lipped humans who work here. No one keeps a secret like a vampire, and as Wonwoo watches you slip a bill over the counter, he’s filled with annoyance at the money hunger of mere mortals.

You slip into the crowd again, and it’s clear you’re making your way over toward the elevated section of the club, where Wonwoo sits at a table drinking what appears to be red wine with two of his broodmates.

“Who are you watching?” Mingyu asks, leaning forward to get a better look.

“No one important,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, swirling the blood in his wine glass before downing it. He’s curious as to what will happen next, and if you are coming over in the hopes of being bitten, he wants to be satiated enough to not give into the temptation of draining you.

Vampire bars generally have a strict no killing policy. The underworld has few sanctuaries like this one, and they can’t have human law enforcement going through their ‘wine barrels’ if a murder takes place in or around the property.

Wonwoo’s eyes find you again. You’re much closer now, and your gaze is fixed on him. You’re like a cute little butterfly heading straight for the spider’s web, and it makes Wonwoo grin to himself.

He stands up from the booth when you’re a few feet away, and Wonwoo notes your pulse quicken, your steps faltering. To your credit, Wonwoo is much larger now than when he was sitting, and he has to lower his gaze to meet your own. “Are you lost?” he asks, taking in your outfit at a leisurely pace now that you’re right in front of him.

“No, I-” You take a breath. “Are you Wonwoo?”

“Depends who’s asking,” he muses.

“I’ve been looking for you,” you try to explain, raising your voice over the noise of the bar.

Wonwoo can hear you perfectly fine, but he knows the noise must be difficult on your weak human ears. He leans forward. “Sounds interesting. Let’s step outside to talk, it’s too loud in here.”

He watches the way you pause, considering the proposition.

You’re definitely not a fang bunny. Any vampire lover would jump at the chance to get alone with him. You’re much too guarded, and it intrigues him even more.

“Okay,” you nod.

Wonwoo steps closer, hand finding the small of your back as he begins to guide you through the club toward the back exit. You stiffen under his touch, and Wonwoo’s fingers skim over the hilt of what he presumes to be a blade under your leather jacket.

He wonders how you got in with a badly concealed weapon, but he supposes the human bouncers can be just as susceptible to bribery as bartenders can. He’ll have to talk with the club owner about hiring vampire security, even if such jobs are ‘below’ his kind.

Your heart rate is increasing with each step, but you’re doing your best to breathe evenly, and Wonwoo is amused by it. Either you know he’s a vampire, in which case, you should know you can’t fool him, or, maybe you’re just stupid, he can’t quite tell.

Wonwoo’s heart doesn’t beat. It hasn’t in too many years to count, but he gets that familiar tingle of excitement running along his skin as he gets closer to the door that will lead you behind the bar. You’re not a sure catch, not what Mingyu would fondly call a ‘cute juicebox.’ Wonwoo’s always been curious, and his interest is peaked by the unknown outcome of this interaction.

As you make it to the exit, Wonwoo holds the door open for you. With one last pause, you walk through.

The vampire grins to himself, following you into the night.

The alleyway is deserted, the perfect spot for Wonwoo to figure you out.

His eyes follow you as you put a few feet of distance between him and yourself, running an anxious hand through your hair.

“You were just about to tell me why you’re looking for me,” Wonwoo says, pretending to be helpful, when in reality, he only wants to satiate his own curiosity.

“I heard you might know someone I’ve been trying to find, a Mister Sung.”

Wonwoo’s throat tightens. He hasn’t heard his maker’s name in many years. It frustrates him that it still has an effect on him, and Wonwoo’s fist clenches at his side. “I don’t know anyone by that name,” he lies.

“I’ve been told you do,” you insist.

He’s tired of you now, anger growing by the second inside of him.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” Wonwoo repeats, unable to say the name in question. He refuses to taste it on his lips again, and he can feel his fangs beginning to throb, his need to taste something sweeter growing as he stares you down.

You begin to reach for your jacket, but you’re much too slow for the older vampire, who immediately catches your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t grab your weapon,” he warns. “It will only make me harder on you.”

Your pulse is racing now. Wonwoo can see your carotid artery leaping against your skin. He holds back a groan, stepping closer.

You move away, back hitting the brick wall behind you.

“Nowhere to run,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re a vampire hunter, aren’t you, darling? Shame. I’ve never seen a hunter move as slow as you do. But I guess these days there aren’t many people who could teach you the craft, I’ve killed my share of them.”

Your pupils dilate with fear, and it makes Wonwoo’s head spin. He’s going to enjoy this.

The club might have a no killing humans policy, but vampire hunters are free game. He’ll be doing everyone a favour, and get his fill while doing it.

“Stop-” You gasp, struggling against his grip, but Wonwoo’s hands might as well be metal, as there’s no way you’re breaking free of him.

He’s grown tired of this. As a curious human who may have walked into the wrong bar, you’d been interesting, but as a vampire hunter with no skill, you mean nothing to him.

He’s amused when you try to punch at him with your free hand, but that only leads to him grabbing it and pinning it with your other wrist, squeezing you tight enough to have you gasping again.

With both your wrists captured in one hand, he’s free to bring the other to your face, pinching your jaw. “Don’t scream,” he warns you, “and don’t struggle, you’ll only make things worse.”

Wonwoo’s gotten accustomed to staring into a person’s eyes as they realize they’ve just met death himself, and he’ll never get tired of it. He licks his lips, able to taste your fear in the cold night air. His self control has worn thin, but Wonwoo’s never been the type to hold himself back from an easy kill.

With one sharp motion, he pushes your head to the side, giving him full access to your neck. Your artery leaps, pressing against your skin, and Wonwoo lets out a groan of relief as he dives in, sharp fangs piercing you.

You release a muffled gasp, clawing at his forearm while you struggle against the wall. The taste that erupts across his tongue is unlike anything he’s ever had before. It’s rich like fine red wine, but there’s something else too, dark notes of cherry and pomegranate-

Suddenly, it feels like Wonwoo’s been roughly punched in the chest. It’s so startling that he pulls away from you, staggering back in confusion and releasing your wrists. Clearly you didn’t punch him, so what was that-

You take the moment of confusion to whip your blade out of your jacket, holding one hand to your bleeding neck while you defend yourself with the other. “Stay back!”

But Wonwoo can’t stay back, not now that you’re more intriguing than ever.

He stands, licking his lips. He can still taste you on his tongue, and it’s practically intoxicating.

Wonwoo’s eyes shift to the weapon you’re holding. It’s a black, triple bladed knife, used by vampire hunters and meant to emulate a stake. One good stab from that and there’s no stitching it up, he’d be scarred forever, even with vampiric healing abilities. And if you actually hit his heart? He’d simply be gone.

Maybe you have more bite than he’d given you credit for, but Wonwoo knows he can still best you in a fight, he’ll just have to be a little more careful.

“I swear to God-” you warn him, waving the blade.

“Darling, there’s no God here,” Wonwoo tells you simply, eyes assessing your every motion. It’s clear which side of your body you favour, and with one hand still pressed to your bleeding neck, he has an easy opening.

When Wonwoo moves to the left, you turn your body to follow, and that’s all he needs to abuse your weak point. With lightning fast speed, Wonwoo gives your abdomen a rough push, sending you careening back to the wall. There’s a harsh crack as your head hits brick, and you crumple to the ground, blade falling from your hand.

Maybe he’d pushed you too hard- he hadn’t been trying to- but he can still hear your faint breaths. You’re alive, and you might not be that way for long.

Wonwoo has never, in all his years of living, given another being his blood. He’s never wished to. But staring down at you now, that all changes. He can hear your pulse getting weaker-

The vampire falls to his knees next to you, grabbing you by the back of your neck and pulling you closer. He brings his other wrist to his mouth, biting deep before holding it over your parted lips.

Wonwoo watches the dark red substance speckle your tongue and he presses two fingers under your jaw, closing your mouth in the hopes it will help you swallow. His wrist wound is already healing, and soon, you’ll heal as well.

There’s no medicine in the world quite like vampire blood, especially the blood of one as old as he. Wonwoo knows this. However, there’s still something inside of him that begins to worry about you. It’s a foreign emotion, worry, one he’s not had to deal with in a while, especially not in regard to a human.

Wonwoo grabs your blade off the ground, tucking it into his belt, then he adjusts you in his arms. It’s easier to simply throw you over his shoulder, so that’s what he does, standing up and looking toward the mouth of the alleyway. He can’t risk any humans seeing this, so he pulls out his phone, calling Mingyu.

“Bring the car to the back of the club,” Wonwoo instructs, leaving no room for argument as he hangs up.

Less than two minutes later, Mingyu’s familiar black jeep is rolling down the alleyway. The car comes to a stop and Mingyu exits it, staring at Wonwoo in shock. “What happened?”

“Vampire hunter,” Wonwoo says simply, opening the door to the back of the jeep to set you inside.

“What are you going to do with her?” Mingyu asks, watching through the rearview mirror as Wonwoo gets in beside you.

The elder vampire is quiet for a long while. “I’m not sure.”

Wonwoo is sitting in a chair near the bed, playing with your knife and watching over you diligently. It takes hours before you finally begin to stir. When you wake, you bolt upright, gasping. Your hand flies to your neck, but the wounds are already closed, your skin washed away of blood.

Your eyes find him next, and Wonwoo can’t help but be amused by the way you react, cowering away from him.

“So sleeping beauty finally wakes up,” Wonwoo muses, tossing the blade in his hand and catching it by the hilt.

You don’t say anything, but Wonwoo can see the cogs turning in your mind. “Why… why am I alive?”

“That’s a good question,” one he doesn’t know the answer to yet.

“Am I a vampire?”

Now Wonwoo is laughing. “No. Can you feel your heart racing? It’s a sign that you’re still human.”

You shift in his sheets. “What are you going to do to me?”

“I’m not sure yet,” he confesses. “First, I’d like some answers.”

“I’m not telling you anything.”

“Then I’ll tell you what I know,” he suggests. “This symbol on your blade, it’s a family crest. You belong to a line of vampire hunters.” You stay quiet, but to be fair, it hadn’t been a question, not really. “I recougnize this particular crest. It’s odd to see it again after so many years. I thought your line had been wiped out, but you’re still here, so I guess not.”

“Just kill me,” you state.

Your words cause an interesting feeling to bloom through Wonwoo’s chest again, and he cocks his head. “Is that really what you want?”

You bite your lip, then let out a heavy sigh. “No.”

The vampire stands from his chair. “At least I know why you were looking for Mister Sung now,” he says. “He killed your family, didn’t he?”

You stay quiet, but Wonwoo notes the small tremble that erupts through your form and it’s confirmation enough.

“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo continues, “the vampire you’re looking for is dead. I killed him. Ten years ago.”

“He’s dead?” you ask, clearly shocked.

“It seems you’ve been running a fool's errand, darling,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue. “And you nearly died for it. I don’t think your parents would be too happy with you.”

It’s a low blow, and it causes a reaction. Your fists bunch in the sheets and your eyes narrow. “What do you know about my parents?” you spit.

“I know they never got a chance to train you properly. I bet you’ve never even killed a vampire.”

Your shoulders slump ever so slightly and Wonwoo knows he’s hit the nail on the head.

“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt,” Wonwoo laughs, “it’s cute you thought you could actually get me to be your first.”

“If you have everything figured out, what do you still need me for?”

“There’s still one thing I’m stuck on,” Wonwoo admits. “You did something to me, when I bit you. There was this… feeling, in my chest.”

“I didn’t do anything to you.”

He studies you for a moment. It’s true he hadn’t found any vampire repellents on you when he’d brought you back to his home. He’d kind of been hoping you’d tell him you’re a witch, and in a last ditch effort to get him away from you in the alley you’d used a spell of some sort.

Wonwoo doesn’t want to consider the other possibility, he’s been refusing to even think about it, but now that the witch angle is off the table, the worst case scenario is at the forefront of his thoughts.

“I’ve got business to attend to,” he tells you simply, heading to the door. “You’ll be locked in this room until I figure out what I’m going to do with you.”

“And when will that be?!”

Wonwoo can hear the panic in your voice, and in some form he can sympathize with it. He’d been kept in a room for many years, under the command of a vampire sire he’d since revenged upon. “Not long,” Wonwoo promises, and it’s the most he can give you as reprieve before he shuts you into your fate.

“What’s so important we couldn’t do this over the phone or at the club?” Jeonghan asks as Wonwoo pushes into his home.

“Give me a minute,” Wonwoo says, double-checking his friend's apartment for any fang bunnies or other vampires who could take what he’s about to say and use it against him.

“You’re so paranoid,” Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “You wanted us to be alone, so we’re alone.”

Wonwoo turns to face the vampire in front of him. “Tell me about Luna.”

“You-” Jeonghan falters. “You never want to hear about Luna.”

“But I do now,” Wonwoo insists. “Tell me.”

Jeonghan moves to sit on his couch, and Wonwoo can tell that the mere name of Jeonghan’s lost love is nearly too much for him to handle, even after so many years.

“What do you want to know?” Jeonghan asks finally.

“You said she was your soulmate.”

“And you called me crazy for it, everyone did.” Perhaps this is another reason it’s such a sore subject.

“Not everyone,” Wonwoo points out. “Sung didn’t like it.”

Jeonghan visibly flinches at the name of their old master, and it’s no wonder why. Sung had gone after anything his fledglings found beautiful, and much more. It’s one of the many reasons Wonwoo had found a way to kill him, ending their eternal torment… but he’d been too late to save Luna, and it’s something he’s always regretted. Jeonghan is a shell of who he was before, and deep in Wonwoo’s black twisted soul, he knows that the man he used to call one of his closest friends will never truly be whole again.

“She was my soulmate,” Jeonghan says, but at this point, it almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself of that fact.

“How did you know?” Wonwoo presses.

“It was a feeling, I can’t really explain it.”

“Try.”

Jeonghan lets out a deep sigh. “There was something about Luna, I knew it the moment I first saw her. I couldn’t describe it, especially not to any other vampires. She wasn’t just prey, she was more than that.”

She was enough for Jeonghan to turn her into a vampire, intent on spending the rest of eternity with her, an eternity that never came, for one of them at least.

“The first time I tasted her,” Jeonghan runs a hand through his hair. “She was like citrus and sunshine, I’d never experienced anything like her.” This is far off from the red wine and pomegranates Wonwoo had tasted when he’d had you. “It was the oddest thing- there was this feeling, in my chest-”

“Like a punch,” Wonwoo suggests.

Jeonghan’s eyes shift to him, and then he nods. “Yeah, like a punch.”

Wonwoo almost feels sick. “I still don’t understand how this made you realize she was your soulmate.”

“I couldn’t hurt her,” Jeonghan explains, “even if I’d wanted to. And when I tasted her again, when she let me drink from her, I realized what the feeling in my chest was.”

“What was it?”

Jeonghan studies Wonwoo. “It was my heart.”

“Your heart?”

The long haired vampire nods. “An echo. A memory of the life I once had. Luna made my heart beat again, if only when I was with her. She made me soft, like I’d been when I was human, before Sung and the eternal night.”

Wonwoo sits on the couch across from Jeonghan, looking down at his hands.

This can’t be true. Wonwoo had never believed it before- but now, well, now he’s experienced it for himself.

How can a vampire’s whole long life change in one chance meeting?

Except, it hadn’t been chance, not really. Sung had ruined your life as he’d ruined Wonwoo’s, and fate had inexplicably tied you together.

He truly can’t believe it.

“Why do you want to know all of this?” Jeonghan asks.

Wonwoo almost doesn’t want to admit it, for Jeonghan’s sake as much as his own. So he lies. “No reason.”

Jeonghan leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve found your own soulmate.” When Wonwoo remains silent, Jeonghan lets out a small laugh. “I feel sorry for any human unlucky enough to be tied to you.”

“I do too,” Wonwoo sighs. His indifference - and sometimes hatred - towards humans is well known in the vampire circles Wonwoo is a part of. He’s generally cold, unfeeling, a true vampire, the way his master made him. In fact, out of all twelve of Wonwoo’s broodmates, he’s likely the most successful by Sung’s measurements. He’d surely been the most strategically blood thirsty, and it had cost their former master his life.

“You won’t be able to kill her,” Jeonghan warns. “Won’t be able to run away. If you’ve tasted her blood, if you’ve felt your heart, it’s only a matter of time until you give in again.”

Wonwoo hates that this is true. You’ve been on his mind the entire time he’s been away from you, and it’s already driving him insane. He’s not used to thinking about another being for long periods of time, least of all a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter.

“You’ll end up turning her,” Jeonghan concludes. “It’s the only way. Humans are fragile, and I know how much you hate to see weakness.”

You’ve been trying to find a way out of the bedroom for ages. There are no clocks, nothing to tell you what time it is, but you know dawn is coming, you can see it through the large windows that make up an entire wall of the room.

There’s safety in sunshine, and you’re extremely hopeful that it comes before Wonwoo does.

But your luck is not your own today, as you hear something outside the door just as the morning rays begin to creep through the glass.

You make your way to the windows, pressing your body against them and waiting for the vampire to return. He takes his sweet time, and for that, you’re grateful. The room is half illuminated by the time Wonwoo opens the door, and he peers inside at you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, studying your seated form, back to the glass and morning sun.

“Protecting myself,” you fire back.

Wonwoo lets out a laugh, looking down where the sun reaches on the floor. Then, he steps into it. “Do you really think I’d have a room without tinted glass? The sunlight can’t touch me here. This is my safe haven, not yours.”

Fuck.

“Have you decided what you’re going to do with me?” you ask, feeling defeated.

“I’ll let you know when I do,” Wonwoo responds smoothly, walking over to the closet.

He’s left the door wide open, and you eye it, wondering if you can make your escape.

“Don’t even think about it,” the vampire warns. “You won’t get far. I’ve installed an extra lock on my front door too, so even if you make it there, you have no way out.”

“How many people have you killed here?”

“None.” Wonwoo is looking through his clothing casually, back to you. You’re not sure if you can believe him. “Go on, check the doors.”

You dart from the room, quickly getting your bearings in the small but luxurious apartment. When you make it to the front door, you find he’s not lying. There’s an extra deadbolt on it, and try as you might, you can’t get it open.

You move to the kitchen next, looking for knives of any kind- but there’s literally nothing to be found in any of the cabinets. You suppose a vampire has no use for utensils or food-

Instead, you unplug a lamp, picking it up to use as a bludgeoning weapon if the need arises. You stare toward Wonwoo’s bedroom, and he crosses your line of sight. He’s shirtless now, a pair of sweatpants low on his hips.

The sight is gone far too soon, and you wait, frozen with your lamp.

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t come out of his room.

After a few minutes, you go to peek inside. The vampire is laying in his bed.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to sleep,” he muses almost lazily. “It’s been a long night.”

You’d heard rumours about vampires needing sleep, but you hadn’t actually believed the tales.

“What am I supposed to do now?” you ask.

“Get comfortable,” Wonwoo sighs. “You’re not going anywhere.” He opens his eyes when you stay standing in his doorway. “Put the lamp down.”

“No.”

The vampire lets out a laugh. “Suit yourself.”

“I’ll kill you in your sleep,” you warn him.

“No you won’t.” Wonwoo rolls onto his side, facing away from you. The covers are around his hips, and you get a good view of his excessively broad shoulders. His skin is perfect, not a blemish in sight, only muscles for days.

You lower the lamp a little.

This man is crazy. Absolutely batshit insane.

You watch the vampire as he drifts to sleep, and as soon as you feel you’ve waited a substantial amount of time, you begin to tiptoe to his closet. Your blade has to be somewhere.

You’re hyper aware of the fact that at any moment, Wonwoo could wake up. You keep your noise level to a minimum, rifling through his things. Finally, after what feels like forever, you feel the tip of your blade under your fingers as you look through a folded pile of hoodies.

The twisted knife pulls out from the fabric and you have to fight the urge to cry out in happiness. When you look over your shoulder, you find the vampire still asleep. He’s on his back now, and it would be the perfect opportunity to stake him.

You’re aware that if you kill him, it will be much harder to leave the apartment, but you’re confident that if you bang on the front door long and loudly enough, someone will come save you.

You begin to tiptoe toward the bed, adjusting your grip on the knife.

If there’s one thing you can say about vampires in general, it’s that they’re beautiful. Wonwoo looks absolutely angelic, even while asleep. You falter at the edge of the mattress, simply watching him. If he hadn’t nearly killed you last night, you might hesitate longer, but the memory brings your drive back, and you hold the blade over his chest.

But your hands can’t bring it down. You can’t pierce his skin the way he’d pierced your neck just hours ago.

Come on, you think to yourself. Just stake him.

Wonwoo’s eyes open, and he simply stares at you for a moment. Then he grabs your hand, disarming the blade and tugging you roughly, sending you toppling onto the mattress next to him.

“Fuck!” you scream, kicking and trashing against the vice grip he has on your wrist.

Wonwoo lets you go. “I would have been disappointed if you didn’t try.”

“I hate you!” you yell, sitting up only to be tugged back down again.

“No, you don’t.” Wonwoo straddles you this time, grabbing both your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand while the other continues to hold your family blade.

“I do!”

“I killed the vampire you were hunting, something you would have never been able to do. Some part of you must be grateful for that at least,” Wonwoo points out. “I’ve saved you from becoming a killer. Trust me, it’s not a weight you’d be able to hold easily.”

His words make your skin cold, and you stop wiggling beneath him, staring up at the beautiful vampire.

“There we go,” Wonwoo says, tone almost soothing. “If you’re good and calm, I’ll give you some information. Although, you won’t like what you’re about to hear.”

“Have you decided to kill me yet?”

Wonwoo quickly shakes his head, releasing your wrists so he can sit straighter, staring down at your form. “I’m not really sure how to tell you this.”

“Just spit it out!”

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you?” Wonwoo grins, tracing the tip of the blade across your collar bone and making you freeze. You’re breathing heavily, fighting every urge to try to push him off of you. “Fine, maybe I won’t tell you.”

He gets off of you, rolling onto his back again. He begins to play with the knife, gently tracing one of its edges.

“Tell me,” you press. “I’m being good.”

Wonwoo laughs, and you hate how attracted you are to him when he smiles, his fangs all pointy and sharp.

“Fate is like this blade,” he says finally.

“A killer?” you suggest after a moment of deliberation.

“Twisted,” Wonwoo corrects you.

“Twisted how?”

“Sung. He ruined my life. Ruined yours. I killed him, thinking I knew everything there was to know, but there was still information he could have given me. Information that died with him, like the vampire hunter legacy that died with your parents. Now here we are, two remnants of the same past, our souls scarred, but entwined, twisted by fate.”

You’d definitely not pegged this vampire as a poet, but there’s something very genuine about the words leaving his pretty lips.

“What do you know of souls?” you ask, words dripping with vitriol. “You don’t have one.”

“It would appear I do,” Wonwoo muses.

“Then what do you know about mine?”

“Enough.”

He’s told you something without telling you anything, and it’s infuriating.

“When I bit you, I felt something,” Wonwoo says quietly.

“Besides hunger?”

He grins at your sarcasm. “Yes, besides hunger.”

Wonwoo drags his finger across the blade again, but this time, it cuts him. You watch dark red blood bloom, and after a moment he brings it to his lips, licking it clean. By the time he pulls his hand away, you see the small cut has healed.

“When I bit you, my chest hurt.”

“What does that mean?”

“I wasn’t sure at the time,” he admits. “But I know someone who’d felt something similar, so I went to talk to him. Do you want to know what he said?”

The anticipation is nearly killing you. “Yes.”

“He revealed to me that amidst a world of vampires, witches and werewolves, there’s also such a thing as soulmates. And so, like this blade, fate is twisted.”

You stare at the vampire, trying to process what he’s just said.

But it doesn’t make sense to you.

“You can’t be saying that we’re soulmates-”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Wonwoo shifts, holding the blade out to you. “Here, try to stake me again.”

After a moment of deliberation, you take the knife, lining it up with his throat. But try as you might, you can’t bring yourself to kill him, can’t even cut a tiny scratch against his perfect skin.

“This doesn’t prove anything,” you say finally, feeling completely defeated.

“Sure it doesn’t,” Wonwoo grins, but his smile tells you another story. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to go back to sleep. You’re free to join me if you want.”

You take the knife away from his neck, releasing a loud sigh. “Just don’t bite me.”

“No promises.” Wonwoo rolls on his side again, back to you.

You hate how calm he’s being about all of this, but you suppose that’s what happens when you’re the one holding all the cards.

You can’t hurt him, but you’re pretty sure he can still hurt you, if that bite from last night is anything to go on.

It takes an hour of letting him rest before you finally place the knife on the floor, settling into the bed with a huff. Your mind is completely full, but you’re exhausted too. Sleep finds you soon thereafter.

You wake up cold, and it only takes a moment for you to realize why. There’s a vampire attached to your back, his chest pressed tightly to your form, skin like ice.

You want to pull away, but you can’t. You’re stuck, trapped in his tight embrace.

There has to be a way out of this, not only his arms but his apartment too. You’ll find a way, there has to be a way-

With a few deep breaths, you’re finally able to get control of yourself, and you begin to shift away from Wonwoo- only for his grip to tighten on your body.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, voice groggy as if he’s just woken up.

“I have to get out of here,” you insist.

Wonwoo releases his hold on you, and you dart out of bed, looking around at the dark of the room. It’s evening already? How long did you sleep? When you look outside, you see the sun has set, the sky a hazy purple.

“People will look for me,” you say, trying to reassure yourself.

“What people? Your family is dead.”

He’s such an asshole. He can’t possibly be your soulmate, he can’t be-

You turn to look at Wonwoo, only to find him standing right in front of you. He’s so large, his chest perfectly muscled- and he’s staring at your neck.

“Don’t even think about it,” you warn, clapping both hands over your throat.

He laughs. “But I’m thirsty.”

“How very enticing,” you say sarcastically.

“I’ve been thinking.”

“You have?” you act shocked, picking up your blade.

“Put that down,” he tells you. “I’ve been thinking about something my friend told me. He said I’d have to turn you eventually.”

“Now I’m definitely not putting this down!” You brandish the knife at him and it only makes his grin wider.

“You’re cute,” the vampire muses. “I can’t let you leave here while you’re human. It’s a dangerous world out there. Turning you would give me… security.”

“I’d still run,” you insist.

“You wouldn’t be able to. Not if I told you that you can’t.”

“I’d still try-”

Wonwoo bats the blade out of your hand, grabbing your wrists to pin them to your front while he steps closer. “You’re not listening,” he tuts. “Fledgelings can’t disobey their masters, and if I turned you-”

“You’ll never be my master,” you spit.

“You might not like me now, but you’ll get over it,” Wonwoo assures you. “I can’t say I’m particularly fond of the fragility of your human body. I can turn you and you’ll be much more powerful. You’ll stay beautiful and young, forever.”

Blood is thrumming through your body, and so is fear. Your pulse is practically racing as you stare up at the vampire who thinks you’re his soulmate.

How can he be so sure of this?

In the dark recesses of your mind, there’s some pleasure in being wanted, maybe even needed- but you push the thought away, struggling in his grasp. “Don’t do this.”

Wonwoo doesn’t respond, he simply steps closer, causing you to move back until you’re pressed between him and the wall. He stares down at you, an intensity in his eyes.

“I’m going to ask you something, and I’ll be able to tell if you’re lying, so be a good girl and try to be honest, okay?”

“Screw you!”

He places both your wrists in one hand, bringing the other up to cup your cheek. “Would you hate me if I kissed you?”

“Yes!”

“Lie,” he grins, leaning even closer. “Tell me you don’t want me to kiss you.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me.”

“Another lie. Your heart jumped just now. Whether you want to admit it to yourself or not, your body always tells the truth.”

You’re speechless, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” the vampire warns you. “It will be better if you try to enjoy yourself.”

He gives you a moment to respond, but you can’t. There’s nothing you can say as Wonwoo closes the distance between your lips. It’s a soft kiss, much softer than you’d ever expected from him. Your body reacts, eyes closing, and you find yourself kissing him back.

Wonwoo grins, releasing your wrists in favour of grabbing your hip, pressing you harder against the wall. His tongue glides against your bottom lip and you can’t help but open your mouth for him, fighting the moan that bubbles in your chest.

There’s something about this that feels electric, and after a mini battle with yourself, you give into the experience. Your hands grab at his strong shoulders, nails digging into his flesh as you kiss him back with more vigour, opening your mouth for him.

Wonwoo lets out a growl, deep in his chest, and the sound turns you on more than you’ll ever admit. His hand is bruising on your hip now, groping at your skin and slipping under your shirt. You shift in his embrace, pulling him closer when you wrap your arms around the back of his neck.

His hand on your cheek moves down, gently latching around your throat. The motion makes you gasp, and Wonwoo pulls away from your lips, staring down at you. “Thirsty.”

“You fucker-”

“Thirsty,” he repeats, pressing you against the wall and tightening his grip on your neck. You watch him drag his tongue across his sharp fangs. “Just say yes,” the vampire whispers. It almost sounds like he’s begging.

You’re at war with yourself. Your body is clearly reacting to Wonwoo, but your mind still isn’t there yet. It’s almost torture, pressed to the wall by a man with a perfect body and power that practically thrums off of him.

You find yourself giving a small nod. “Don’t hurt me,” you plead.

“Never,” he promises, kissing you softly one last time before he arches your jaw to the side. You grab at his shoulders, ready to dig your nails in when you feel his fangs-

His lips press to your throat and a shiver runs through your body. His tongue tastes your skin, drawing a circle that has you nearly dying with anticipation. When the bite finally comes, it’s not painful or sharp, it feels something like a hickey, and then it begins to throb.

A gasp tumbles out of you, and you cling to Wonwoo’s broad shoulders, closing your eyes. The vampire releases a groan, reaching for your hand so he can intertwine your fingers, squeezing gently.

You’ve never felt close to someone like this, and the realization has your head spinning… or maybe that’s the blood loss.

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, starting to worry at how long he’s been sucking on your throat.

The throbbing stops, and you feel his tongue gliding over the bite mark, an attempt to soothe your skin. Then he’s pulling away, looking down at you as he licks his lips clean of your blood.

“Good girl,” he praises you, letting go of your hand. “Your turn.” You watch as he brings his thumb to his mouth, biting the tip before grabbing your jaw, pressing the digit into your mouth. “This will heal the mark,” Wonwoo explains, watching as you begin to suck on his thumb.

He doesn’t taste like blood. Instead, you’re reminded of strawberries and stone fruits. You swirl your tongue around his digit, sucking him deeper into your mouth-

“That’s it,” the vampire groans, slowly pulling his thumb from you. He drags it across your lip. “All better.”

When you touch your throat, you find only perfect skin. There’s nothing to suggest you’ve just been bitten by a vampire.

“If it’s any consolation,” Wonwoo leans down, his lips ghosting over your own, “you taste delicious.”

“You-” you swallow thickly, “you do too.”

“Yeah?” He grins.

You can only nod, leaning forward eagerly to capture him in a kiss again.

You’re hungry for him, hungry in a way you’ve never been before, hungry for more.

Wonwoo gives into your needs, working his lips against yours harder while his hands find your hips again. Your own fingers trace his broad shoulders, dipping down to tease over his chest before finding his abs-

“That’s enough for tonight,” Wonwoo says suddenly, pulling away.

You realize you’d been about to grab his sweat pants, and you feel slightly embarrassed. You’re not sure what’s come over you-

“Sorry-”

“As much as I’d love to give you everything you want, as a human, I’d break you much too easily, darling.”

Is he… is he going to withhold sex unless you become a vampire?

Jesus, are you actually considering this now?

What has this man done to you?

“I’m going out,” Wonwoo announces.

“Where?”

“The club. You were a tasty treat, but I’ll need more soon.”

For some reason, the thought of him biting anyone else makes you almost jealous. “Take me with you.”

“To the vampire club?” Wonwoo laughs as he heads to his closet. “No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Why not?” you ask.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“What if I stick to your side all night?”

He turns to look at you, cocking a brow. “Not thinking of running anymore?”

You shake your head quickly.

“Shame, a lie,” Wonwoo sighs. “But I guess… anywhere you go, I’ll find you.” He reaches out, wrapping his hands around your throat and pulling you closer. “You’re mine. If you run, the consequence will be a turning, does that sound fair?”

You feel like you’re gambling with fate, but you nod all the same.

“Say it,” the vampire tells you.

“If… If I run, you can turn me.”

Wonwoo studies you for a moment, then he releases your throat. “Fine. You can come to the club. We’ll get you food along the way if you promise to be good.”

Entering the club with Wonwoo is extremely different from entering alone. The bouncers seem to know the vampire with his hand firmly wrapped around your own, and although they give you odd looks, no one says anything.

The crowd parts for Wonwoo, and you feel eyes drilling into your form.

It had taken months to track down this specific club, there are few vampire safe havens like this one, and people tend to keep their mouth shut about this sort of thing. Yet, within the location itself, everyone seems to know who’s vampire and who’s human. It’s an unspoken hierarchy, one you’re disturbing by being so close to Wonwoo while still owning a pulse.

Wonwoo leads you to the booth section you’d found him in last night. There are three vampires already sitting there, and they all stare as you approach. “Shouldn’t have brought you here,” Wonwoo sighs.

“Why not?”

“They’re never going to let me live this down,” he explains. “I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

It’s an interesting notion, the idea that you’re bringing down this asshole vampire’s street cred. But at the same time, you didn’t force him to bring you here. You’ll never be able to force Wonwoo to do anything.

The vampire with the longest hair stands up from the booth as you approach, and you’re shocked when he smiles at you. “This must be her,” he says, holding out a hand. When you take it, instead of shaking, the beautiful man leans down to kiss your knuckles.

“This is Jeonghan,” Wonwoo tells you.

You give the vampire your own name, and when you hear Wonwoo whispering it behind you, you realize he’s yet to learn it. Had you really gone this long without introducing yourself to him properly? Had you let him bite you, and kiss you, and call you good girl, all without knowing your name?

“You’re the vampire hunter,” comes the next voice, and the tallest vampire you’ve ever seen stands to tower over you. “I thought you’d be dead by now.”

“Mingyu,” Wonwoo warns, his hand moving to the small of your back in an almost protective gesture.

“Vampire hunter?” The third man cocks his head. “I see you’ve brought us a pretty little juice box.”

“Joshua,” now it’s Jeonghan’s turn to scold someone, and you realize through the long haired vampire’s behaviour that he must be the friend Wonwoo went to see about soulmates. There’s definitely a softness to him that the others don’t have, an understanding.

“Is she not dinner?” Joshua simply blinks in confusion, unable to see what he’s done wrong.

“A fang bunny then, not dinner,” the final vampire suggests.

“Excuse Soonyoung and Joshua,” Jeonghan sighs, addressing you again, “looks don’t account for manners. How about I take you down to the bar for a drink and Wonwoo can explain to our friends what’s going on,” he leans closer, lowering his voice, “Wonwoo’s never brought a girl home, I’m sure you can understand the surprise.”

You’d promised Wonwoo you’d stay by his side all night, and you can’t help but look at him for permission to leave with Jeonghan. Your vampire mate meets your gaze with a steady look, and he gives you a quick nod before turning to his friends again.

Jeonghan takes your hand, pulling you away from the table and back toward the bar. “You two look good together,” he muses. “Fragility looks nice next to Wonwoo’s controlled chaos, it’s a good balance.”

“What’s with you vampires and hating human fragility?” you ask.

“I can’t speak for all vampires, but I can tell you it’s a trait of our fledgling group. Our old master was… brutal, to say the least. It left its scars.” Jeonghan looks down, and you can see an unreadable emotion cross his face. But he’s forcing a smile a moment later. “It doesn’t matter, Sung is gone, we’re free now.”

So Wonwoo hadn’t only freed himself and you when he’d killed his maker. How many people had he saved? You’d seen the act as something of a bloodthirsty move of defiance, but you hadn’t been aware of the domino effect of it all, hadn’t been aware that Sung had been cruel to humans and vampires alike, even his own spawn.

The bartender comes over with two glasses of red wine, and you reach for yours, only to have Jeonghan’s cold fingers latch around your wrist. “Don’t drink that,” he warns you, eyes shifting to the human bartender. “She’s not a red wine lover.”

“I can drink this-”

Jeonghan leans closer, voice lowering. “It’s blood, darling.”

Your eyes dip to the glass of red liquid and you pull your hand away, swallowing thickly. Something tells you this blood wouldn’t taste like Wonwoo’s had, there’d be no strawberries and stone fruit, only harsh metalics.

“What would you like to drink?” Jeonghan asks.

You give your order and the bartender scurries away. Jeonghan moves both glasses of blood in front of himself, lifting one to his lips.

“Stupid humans,” he mutters, only realizing his mistake a moment later. “Not you of course, as Wonwoo’s soulmate, you’re an extension of us.”

It’s very odd to be accepted like this. You’ve never met any vampires like these ones, and they’re reshaping your view of things that go bump in the night.

Your gaze moves back to the table of vampires, and you’re shocked to find Wonwoo standing with a new person you’ve not yet met. They’re comparable in size, and from your distance, it almost looks like they’re arguing. Then you see Wonwoo motion, pointing toward the hallway that leads to the alley he’d taken you last night.

“Jeonghan?” You tap on the man’s arm. “Who’s that with Wonwoo?”

“Shit,” Jeonghan cusses. “He’s bad news.”

And here you’d thought Wonwoo was bad news, can this new man be even worse?

You watch the two heated vampires begin to head through the crowd, clearly intent on taking this outside. Mingyu, Joshua and Soonyoung watch from the booth, but they don’t make a move to follow.

“Does- does Wonwoo need backup?” you ask.

Jeonghan considers it for a moment. “Doubtful. He’d probably be mad if we went out after him.”

As you watch Wonwoo disappear, your heart clenches in your chest. “I think we should follow.”

“He’s fine,” Jeonghan assures you.

“I don’t care.”

“Wonwoo wouldn’t want you there,” the vampire tries to convince you. “You’re fragile, human, it would only make things worse.”

“Screw that.”

“Your drink isn’t even here yet-”

But you’re already moving away from the bar, and Jeonghan scrambles to follow you, grabbing both glasses of wine. “This is a bad idea,” he insists, but you’re done listening to him. “Wonwoo can take care of himself.”

To be fair, that might be true. However, there’s a pull, deep in your chest. Something tells you Wonwoo will need you soon, although you’re not quite sure in what capacity.

Your pace quickens as you head down the dark hallway, and you push open the exit door, quickly looking around.

Wonwoo has the other vampire pressed to the brick wall behind the bar, and they’re grappling at each other, practically snarling. You have no clue who’s the aggressor, but you know who the winner will be, and you reach into your jacket for your blade.

“Wonwoo!” you scream, catching his attention for a moment, but it’s all you need to toss the weapon toward him. He catches it easily, driving the stake into the other man without a second thought.

A choked sound leaves you, and a hand covers your eyes. Jeonghan presses against your back, cradling you while you hear the sounds of your vampire mate eviscerating his opponent.

Jeonghan turns you in his arms. “Don’t look,” he urges, removing his palm from your view. He’s still holding a wine glass, and you see the other sitting on the garbage can a few feet away. The sight of the blood makes your stomach churn. You try to take deep breaths to calm yourself, but it’s difficult in a situation like this.

Something moves in the periphery of your vision and you turn your head to see Wonwoo standing there, reaching for the wine glass. His skin is marred with red, his hair a tangle of curls. Your mate’s eyes are dark, and he closes them as he downs the red liquid, tossing the glass to the side when he’s through with it. The cup shatters across the alleyway.

“Wonwoo-” you breathe, reaching for him, needing to check if he’s hurt.

“Why did you two come out here?” he asks, staring at Jeonghan.

“She insisted.”

Oh, to be thrown under the bus by a vampire.

Wonwoo cracks a grin, gaze shifting to you. “Brat.”

“Killer,” you retort.

“He deserved it,” Wonwoo assures you, reaching out to grab you by the back of the neck, pulling you closer.

He’s covered in blood and he looks like a sexy, wild monster. But he’s your monster, and you can’t help but react, leaning in-

“Jesus Christ,” you hear Jeonghan breathe, turning to give you and Wonwoo privacy while he presses his lips against yours hungrily.

At first, you can try to ignore the wet liquid on your fingertips as you grab at his strong shoulders, but you can’t ignore the taste on his tongue. Your body goes rigid and Wonwoo pulls back with a sigh, resting his forehead against yours.

It’s an oddly peaceful moment amongst the chaos.

Wonwoo lets you go, turning to his friend. “Help me with the body,” he instructs.

“The club owner isn’t going to like this,” Jeonghan groans, although he does as he’s told, following Wonwoo toward the body crumpled by the wall.

The vampire has been practically torn to pieces- you shift your gaze again, wiping at your mouth just in case there’s any blood on your skin.

“I’ll explain what happened,” Wonwoo says.

“Explain it to me then.”

You focus on the ground, not wanting to look as you hear the two vampires open a large dumpster.

Wonwoo has lowered his voice to respond to his friend, but you hear the words soulmate and threatened.

Had this killing been over you? The thought makes your stomach tie into knots again.

“You can’t bring her here again, not while she’s still human,” Jeonghan muses.

“You think I don’t know that?” Wonwoo snaps. “I didn’t even want to bring her today!”

“Then why did you?”

“It’s hard to say no to her, something you should understand. Can’t believe you let her come out here-”

“I didn’t let her do anything,” Jeonghan insists. “That soulmate of yours has a mind of her own. Besides, my hands were full.”

Your eyes shift to the glass of wine still sitting on a small trash can, and you move to retrieve it.

“You’ll get this properly cleaned up, won’t you?” Wonwoo asks.

“Yeah, I got you,” Jeonghan sighs. “But you owe me one.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

You hear them walking over again, and you turn to face the approaching vampires, holding out the ‘wine’ for Jeonghan.

“Thank you, darling,” he offers you a smile, taking the glass.

You can only nod, gaze shifting to Wonwoo, who still looks gorgeous even while covered in blood.

He takes your hand gently. “Come on, brat, let’s get out of here.”

Mingyu had come around with his car to take you home, helping avoid any uber drivers who would take one look at Wonwoo’s blood-speckled face and driven the other way. It had been a tense ten minutes, with hardly a word spoken.

Now, you’re in Wonwoo’s bathroom, helping him take off his shirt so you can wash him clean.

He watches as you ring out a warm soapy cloth, bunching it up and bringing it toward his shoulders first. It’s hard to focus with his intense gaze fixed on you, but you do your best, wiping away the blood from his throat.

“I have to turn you,” he says.

You sigh. “I know.”

“Are you upset with me?”

You shake your head, daring a look into his dark eyes.

The vampire cocks his head, hands finding your hips while he leans back against the sink. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises. “One bite, I’ll nearly drain you, and on the cusp between life or death, I’ll give you my own blood. You’ll probably pass out, for a little while, and when you wake up, you’ll be like me.”

“Except you’ll be my master,” you point out, drawing the cloth across his bloody cheekbone.

“I won’t abuse that power.”

For some reason, you believe him.

Silence fills the bathroom while you continue to clean him, but your mind is very much active.

You’ve spent over ten years with one goal and one goal only, to avenge your parents. You’d been told it was a fool's errand, so you’d never quite planned for what came next. Part of you had always expected to die young- and if you’d been at the house instead of with a friend the day Sung had come for your family, you would have.

The idea of living forever is a lot to grapple with, but Wonwoo’s the one that makes it possible.

He’d completed your life task, and now, he’s offering you a new path, one that’s rich with shadows, but also love. In a way, maybe you can’t ask for anything more than that.

“Do you think it will satisfy you?” you question. “Having me when you know I can’t refuse you?”

Wonwoo considers you for a moment, and his silence makes you anxious.

“I just mean…” you bite at your lip, cleaning the last speckle of blood from his skin before tossing the cloth down. “Wouldn’t it be better to have me for the first time while I’m still human? When you know I’m saying yes out of my own free will?”

“Darling,” his fingers dig into your hips, “are you asking me to fuck you?”

“I’m just- I know I want you, I think that much is obvious. I just think that if I wait to have you until after I’m a vampire, maybe there will always be a part of me that questions it. I want to experience you now, as I am, as a human.”

“It’s an interesting proposition,” Wonwoo admits.

“Just interesting?” you tease, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

Wonwoo straightens. No longer leaning against the sink, he towers over you again, and it takes your anxieties away.

“Is this really what you want?” he asks.

You take a deep breath and nod.

“I’ll be as gentle as I know how,” he reaches out, brushing his fingers along your arm, “but I can’t make any promises.”

“It’s okay,” you assure him, tongue darting out to wet your lips. “I like rough.”

“Are you sure about that, pretty girl?” Wonwoo grins, grabbing your hips and tugging you closer.

It feels amazing to be pressed against him now, your palms coming to rest on his broad chest. He’s so beautiful, you can hardly control yourself around him anymore.

“I want you to ravage me,” you tell him. “And when we both finish, you can turn me. I think… I think I’m ready for my life with you. There’s nothing for me with the old one anyways, not anymore.”

The vampire studies you, and you avert your gaze, only for his fingers to find the bottom of your chin. He tilts your head up so you’re forced to meet his eyes. “I’m going to take care of you,” Wonwoo whispers, and then he leans in to press his lips against yours.

You melt against his chest, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Your mouth parts much too easily for Wonwoo, and he drags his tongue along yours, earning a sigh of relief from deep within you. Your brain has been so full since seeing Wonwoo eviscerate that rival vampire, it’s good to be in your body now, mind going numb from your soulmate’s touch.

In one easy motion, Wonwoo turns you so you’re the one with your back to the sink. He bends down, tearing your pants off before grabbing your thighs and lifting you onto the counter, slotting between your legs while he kisses you harder.

His hands find your shirt, and you break the kiss to tear it off, leaving you in your underwear. Wonwoo’s lips find your neck, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, groaning. You throw your head back, wrapping your legs tighter around his hips. “Bite me,” you urge him, missing the sensation.

The vampire grins against your throat, and you feel his fangs a moment later. He doesn’t tease you with kisses or licking this time, he simply sinks his teeth into you. The throbbing feeling courses through you and you gasp, digging your nails into his shoulders while Wonwoo drinks from you.

You’ve never felt close to someone like this before. Wonwoo is grabbing your hips hard, leaning closer while he uses you for his own strength. He presses forward, allowing you to feel his cock growing in his jeans, denim catching against your panties. Then his hands slip behind you, and he undoes your bra, tearing it off.

Your nipples pebble in the cool of the bathroom, and Wonwoo’s cold hands don’t help any as they move up to cup your breasts. Your soulmate pulls away from your throat, releasing a groan.

Warm blood begins to drip down your skin, he’d bitten you harder than last time. As the track of red makes it to your nipple, Wonwoo bends down, capturing the sensitive bud in his mouth and licking roughly.

You whimper at the sensation, tangling your fingers in his hair as he drags his tongue up, collecting all the blood that’s just spilt from your neck. The vampire groans when he makes it to your bite mark, and he adjusts slightly, biting his thumb before pressing it into your mouth. “Need you healed or I might lose control,” he says, voice husky.

You can only suck in his digit, closing your eyes and enjoying the tingly feeling of your wound disappearing.

Your soulmate pulls his hand from your mouth, bringing his newly spit-covered fingers to your panty-clad core. He applies a good amount of pressure to your clit and you cry out, grabbing at his jaw to bring his lips back to yours.

The vampire rubs you teasingly, working you up until you’re practically rutting against his hand. “Please,” you moan, feeling absolutely desperate now.

Wonwoo rewards you by pushing your panties to the side, sinking two fingers into your hot core while you groan into each other’s mouths.

“Already so wet for me,” Wonwoo muses. “Is this how you always react to vampires, darling?”

You shake your head, whimpering as he strokes your inner walls expertly. “Just you,” you tell him.

Wonwoo lets out a growl. With his free hand he grabs your wrist, bringing your palm to his chest. “Can you feel what you’re doing to me?”

At first, you’re confused, but then you feel something, a rough thumping, as if his heart is clawing to get out of his ribcage. “I’m doing this to you?” you ask in wonder.

“And this,” he guides your hand down further, so you can feel how hard he is in his jeans now.

“Fuck, you’re big-”

Wonwoo laughs, working his fingers into you even harder. “Think you’ll be able to make it fit?”

“Uh huh,” you nod eagerly. “We’ll make it fit.”

His digits crook up, stroking a spot that has your thighs quivering around his hips. You squeeze his cock through his jeans, hoping to drive Wonwoo even a fraction as wild as he’s driving you.

Your soulmate lets out a satisfied groan, and the sound goes straight to your core, which squelches around his fingers. “I’m close,” you warn him, nearly panting now as the orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo grinds his palm against your clit and you’re nearly seeing stars.

You let go of his cock, needing to anchor yourself on his strong shoulders as he leans in to kiss your throat. He focuses on the spot he’d bitten, and even though it’s healed, you’re still sensitive there, sending throbbing tingles through your form.

“Fuck, Wonwoo-” You clench your eyes shut as you reach your high, your entire being now consumed with pleasure. You’ve never felt anything like this. It’s almost an out of body experience, your cries leaving your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulders, throbbing ceaselessly with ecstasy.

“That’s it, pet,” Wonwoo coos, fingers continuing to abuse your hole even as your walls contract around him. “Who’s my good little human?”

“Me,” you whimper, threading your hand through his hair so you can keep him to your throat. You almost want to ask him to bite you again, but you hold yourself back, enjoying the last moments of your orgasm.

You finish with a gasp, breathing hard.

Wonwoo takes his hand from your core, pulling away from your neck. He watches you with dark eyes as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. The vampire lets out a groan. “Everything about you tastes so fucking sweet, darling.”

God. You need him like you’ve never needed anyone in your whole life.

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?” he teases.

“Take me,” you whisper. “Make me yours.”

“Darling,” Wonwoo leans closer, his lips ghosting over your own, “I thought you’d never ask.”

He pulls you off the sink, tucking you close to his chest and carrying you back to the bedroom. The lights are off, and when he gently places you on the bed, his beautiful frame is illuminated from the glow of the bathroom.

You can’t see his face, but you can see he’s smiling, and his fangs flash. His hands move to his belt and he undoes it. You bite at your lip, sitting up onto your elbows while you watch him.

He pushes his pants down, and you can just make out the impressive size of his cock. “Wish I could see you,” you muse.

“I can see you,” he retorts. “When I turn you, you’ll be able to see in the dark too.”

“Are you really going to make me wait?”

“You won’t have to wait long,” Wonwoo reminds you. “You can be patient for this first time, can’t you, human? After tonight, we’ll have forever.”

You can’t even imagine what forever entails, and you distract yourself from it by pulling your panties down, tossing them to the floor. You spread your legs for the vampire at the foot of the bed and he releases a groan.

“You are beautiful,” he admits.

“Even for a human?”

“Even for a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo presses a knee to the bed.

“Thought you said I was a sorry excuse for a vampire hunter.”

“I may have said something along those lines,” he grins.

“A vampire hunter with no kills under her belt-”

Wonwoo presses his hand to the bed next to your head, leaning over you while you wrap your legs around his hips. “Are you looking for an apology, darling?”

“It would help,” you sigh, enjoying the way he ruts his cock against your hot core.

“I’m sorry I called you a filthy little human who fancies herself a vampire hunter,” Wonwoo smirks, “I was having a bad day, and I misspoke… you’re a darling little human who’s about to become a vampire fucker.”

“Wonwoo-” you push at his chest, hating how harsh his words sound.

“You’re right,” your soulmate concedes, “you’re not a vampire fucker, I’m the one on top.”

“You’re horrible!” you screech, but at the same time, you’re giggling now.

“Tell me you love it,” he insists, leaning in to press his lips to your neck. “Tell me you don’t want me to fuck you stupid. That you don’t want me to sink my fangs into this pretty throat and make you mine, my eternal mate, untouchable to anyone but me.”

It does sound nice, and you shiver as Wonwoo presses his cold body down against yours.

“I’ll enjoy it once you’re turned,” Wonwoo breathes. “You won’t be able to be bratty with me. I’ll ask you what's on your mind and you’ll have to answer.”

“I’m just thinking how nice this is going to be,” you admit.

“Nice?” He laughs, pulling away to look down at you.

“Obviously it will be a lot to figure out,” you back pedal slightly, “but… I don’t know, you really are my soulmate, and I know you’ll take care of me.”

The vampire simply blinks.

“What?” you ask, cupping his face.

“This is the first time you’ve admitted it,” Wonwoo points out.

“I wouldn’t let you bite me if you weren’t,” you remind him. “Wouldn’t let you fuck me-”

“I haven’t fucked you yet,” your soulmate grins, pushing his hips so his cock brushes by your clit as if to prove his point.

“And I’m devastated,” you say dramatically. “Please, Wonwoo- just fuck me!”

Wonwoo presses his lips to yours, and you love that he’s smiling into the kiss. You tangle your fingers in his hair, hooking your legs tighter around his hips. You’re still so wet from his fingers, and each small drag of his cock between your pussy lips feels like heaven.

He’s such a tease, but you kind of love it.

The vampire adjusts slightly, reaching between your bodies, and then his cock slides into you. It’s just the head at first, but it’s enough to have you gasping and clawing at him. He thrusts shallowly, pushing deeper and deeper until his hips are flush to your own and every impressive inch of him is stretching you open.

“Fuck-” you whimper, toes curling from how full you feel.

Wonwoo collects one of your hands, linking your fingers and pressing it down against the pillow. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, my pretty human?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, swallowing thickly. “I told you,” you lean up, letting your lips ghost past his while you stare into his eyes, “ravage me.”

Your vampire lover groans, smashing his mouth to yours and squeezing your hand, then he begins to thrust into you and your mind goes completely blank. He fills you up perfectly- it’s like you were always meant to be full in this way.

Now that you’ve tasted this, how can you ever get enough?

You can tell he’s holding back, can tell he’s still trying to be careful with your fragile form. You lock your legs tighter around his hips, a wordless encouragement to go harder. You wonder what it’s going to be like once you’re on his level, once you’re a vampire like him. If sex with him feels this good and he’s only at a fraction of his power, you bet undying fucking will kill you all over again.

Each snap of his hips presses his cock deep into your core, and your walls greedily eat him up. You’re moaning desperately against his mouth, squeezing his hand while tangling your fingers through his hair with the other.

Wonwoo’s fangs drag by your lip, teasing you just enough to be on the verge of painful.

You’re so lost in him you don’t even care, you bite him back, tugging on his curls and whimpering a sound of affirmation. This time, when his teeth make contact with your lip, it’s with enough force to pierce.

Wonwoo groans immediately, suckling on your lower lip. It’s throbbing slightly, but unlike when he goes for your neck, his teeth aren’t still inside of you. He’s simply made a small incision, and now your vampire lover is making the most of it, kissing you so greedily that you can’t even taste the metallic proof of what he’s just done.

He simply can’t get enough of you, and you can’t get enough of him. You push on the hand capturing yours to the bed and Wonwoo relents, allowing you to grab at his shoulder while he fucks you harder, pressing you into the mattress.

With his fingers now free, he shoves them between your bodies, rubbing your clit and making your legs shake around his hips.

With each lick and suck at your bleeding lip, he’s getting rougher with you. Your life’s blood is giving him strength, making him more feral, and you’re enjoying the show.

Your pussy is throbbing again, just like your lip, and you know you’re achingly close to another orgasm. When has cumming ever been this easy? Wonwoo feels like a dream, or perhaps a nightmare, you’re still not sure.

“Close, darling?” Wonwoo asks, dragging his tongue across your teeth. You taste something on him, and realize he’s bitten himself, allowing his blood to heal your lip wound just as suddenly as it had been given.

You nod, crying out as he rubs your clit harder. He stares down at you, in the dark there are angular shadows on his face, his pretty cheekbones all sharp-

“You look…” he licks his lips, “beautiful.”

“Wonwoo-” you whimper, body shuddering at the praise, your core twisting and aching as he continues to fuck into you wildly.

“That’s it,” the vampire coos, “cum on my cock, I need to feel you.”

You literally can’t help yourself. His voice is too sexy, his cock is too big, and you’re way too deep into the kinkiness of bloodsharing vampire sex to refuse any command he gives you. You let out a cry of ecstasy as your second orgasm of the night slams into you, ravaging your form and making you see stars.

Wonwoo buries his face against your neck, teasing you with his teeth and tounge while he fucks you through his high. With each second of overstimulated pleasure, you hang on the edge of anticipation, wondering if he’s about to bite you-

But he doesn’t. He simply works you through your orgasm until you’re a shaking mess.

You can feel tears in your eyes, but you’re not quite sure why they’re there.

When Wonwoo looks down at you again, he notices your tears, his brows furrowing. But he doesn’t question you on it, he simply brushes them away with his thumb while you shiver and recollect yourself after that mind numbing high.

You drag his face in for a kiss, pouring all your emotions into the merging of your lips. It must be clear to him that you’re okay, that you’re feeling just a little broken right now- but to be fair, you had asked him to ravage you.

There are underlying feelings being brought up, and in the periphery of your mind, you’re questioning your own mortality.

This is your last night on earth as a human, your last hour even- and although you know Wonwoo will take care of you, there’s something scary about it.

You’re diving into the deep, dark, unknown with your new soulmate, entrusting him as your guide after living an entire life without trusting anyone.

Trusting feels foreign to you, but you do trust Wonwoo, and that’s a scary thought in and of itself.

“Okay,” you say, swallowing thickly and letting out a shaky breath, “I’m ready for more.”

“I’d almost worried I’d broken you,” Wonwoo admits, pressing another soft kiss to your lips.

“It was a good broken,” you tell him, heart swelling in your chest at the fact that he’d been concerned for you.

“And now my little human wants more,” Wonwoo muses. “You’re not as fragile as you look, are you, darling?”

You shake your head.

“Think you can get on your knees for me?” the vampire asks, pushing his body weight off of you.

“Uh huh,” you nod, whimpering a little at the loss of his cock from your core. You get into position, turning your back to him and adjusting on your knees, wiggling you ass gently to entice him.

“Pretty human,” Wonwoo breathes, hands ghosting down your sides before taking two fistfuls of your bum and squeezing.

You feel his cock at your entrance again, and he pushes into you, making you both moan. In this position it almost feels like he hits deeper. You go fully doggy, resting your face against his pillows and arching your back.

“I’d tell you to be good for me, but I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked the brat out of you already. Isn’t that right, darling?” He lands a gentle smack to your ass that has you whimpering.

He’s such a cocky asshole and it makes you groan. You can feel yourself throb around him at his words, betraying what you really think about the line he’s just used on you.

“That’s what I thought.” You can practically hear him grinning, and his hands move to your waist. His touch is almost bruising, but it feels so good as he begins to thrust into you again. Each movement has his hips hitting your ass, and the sound of sex fills the room.

You love the noises he’s making, soft, breathy groans, and deep rumbles that border on growls. There’s no time for talking anymore, your mind is much more preoccupied in the pleasure building within you both.

You’re still sensitive from two orgasms, so when you slip your hand under your body to rub your clit, your pussy immediately reacts. You clench tightly around Wonwoo, who lets out a moan at the sensation, fucking you even harder and faster.

Each thrust has you crying out now, whines of desperation slipping out of you while you rub your clit, eyes shut.

Suddenly, Wonwoo is wrapping a hand around the front of your throat, pulling you up onto your knees with your back to his chest. His lips ghost by your ear. “So eager to cum again?” he asks.

You can only nod, grabbing at the forearm now pinned against your front while Wonwoo’s other hand tightens around your neck. He’s buried deep inside of you now, unmoving, and you’ve never felt this full.

“You know what happens when you cum, don’t you, darling?”

“I-” You’re so delirious from his cock you can’t even think.

“‘When we cum, you can turn me,’ that’s what you said, wasn’t it, pet?” Wonwoo lets out a chuckle. “Are you really that eager? Or just a little dim with my cock buried so deep in this perfect pussy of yours?”

“I remember,” you gasp, head beginning to swim with how hard he’s gripping your throat.

“So you are eager,” the vampire confirms. “That’s cute.”

He lets go of you, pushing you down to the bed. His hand finds the back of your neck and he holds your face down, grabbing your hip with the other. “I guess you can cum as fast as you want, little pet. I’d be happy to taste you again.”

You’re gasping against the pillow, enjoying how rough he’s being with you now. There’s something about having his hand on your neck, keeping you down while he begins to fuck into you again.

“Are you close?” you ask, enjoying the groans leaving his own lips.

Wonwoo laughs. “When you cum, I cum.”

“Lucky me,” you whisper, reaching for your clit again. Your pussy pulses with ecstasy as you begin to rub the sensitive nub, your eyes closing from the pleasure.

“Naughty human,” Wonwoo states, but there’s something like pride in his tone. “I guess I haven’t fucked the brat out of you just yet.”

“You love that I’m a brat,” you insist. “It gives you something you want to control, and we both know how much you like control.”

Wonwoo’s thrusts falter ever so slightly. “I didn’t realize you knew me so well, little soulmate.”

“I do,” you groan. “Just like I know that if I start begging, you’ll really lose your head.”

Wonwoo lets out a laugh, and you see it as a challenge.

“Please,” you whimper, rubbing your clit harder and cutting off your soulmate’s laugh. “Please, Wonwoo, I’m so close-”

The vampire behind you lets out a growl, fucking you faster. His grip on your neck pushes you down against the bed more, but it does nothing to muffle the begging that’s beginning to tumble past your lips.

“Want you to fill me up. Want you to make me see stars. Want you to bite me like only you can-”

“Fuck-” Wonwoo groans.

Suddenly he’s letting go of your neck and flipping you over. You’re not on your back for even a moment before he’s pushing into your core again, his lips eager against your own. His tongue invades your mouth, shutting up your begging while you tangle your fingers through his hair.

One of his hands is planted on the pillow next to you, and the other is on your hip, digging into your skin while he fucks you so hard the bed shakes.

“Please,” you whimper, so close to the edge you can almost taste it again.

Wonwoo’s mouth moves to your throat and your entire body tenses with anticipation, teetering on the edge of pleasure that you know is going to be nothing like anything you’ve ever experienced before.

You drag your fingers against his scalp, panting hard. “Bite me,” you beg. “Bite me, please- I’ll cum so hard if you just bite me-”

The vampire lets out a primal groan, and then his teeth are sinking into your flesh. The throbbing sensation erupts through your entire body, going straight to your core, which clenches desperately around Wonwoo’s cock.

A strangled cry leaves your lips as your orgasm overtakes you. Your grip tightens in Wonwoo’s hair, holding him to your throat as you ascend to a height of pleasure that has you weak all over-

From the noises leaving your soulmate, you know he’s just cum too, and the thought makes your body tingle as he drinks steadily from your neck.

His thrusts begin to slow, but the speed to which he’s devouring you remains a constant. Suddenly, you realize that there’s no coming back from cloud 9, you’re simply floating- floating, floating, with only his hair as your anchor, but soon, you begin to lose your grip on even that.

Your throat is really pulsing now, but it’s getting noticeably weaker, and the heat of the bite is dying down. Maybe it’s not the only thing dying, you realize, with your eyes closed and your lids too heavy to lift.

Something presses to your lips, filling your mouth with a familiar flavour.

Strawberries and stone fruits.

You do your best to swallow, but it’s kind of difficult. You’re so tired, so very tired-

“Drink up, darling,” Wonwoo says. His voice feels far away. “Come back to me. I’m not done with you yet.”

Part of you wishes you could simply drift off, but your soulmate's words are enticing. You push yourself to do as he says, drinking the sweet nectar and regaining your strength, drawing you back to him.

When you’re finally able to open your eyes, Wonwoo isn’t on top of you anymore. He’s laying in bed next to you, watching.

You roll onto your side, mirroring him. “Did I pass out?”

“I warned you that might happen,” he reminds you, reaching out to push a strand of hair away from your face.

His touch sends sparks through your body and you lick your lips, feeling pulled to the man in front of you. That’s when you realize, the lights are still off, but you can see Wonwoo perfectly. “I’m like you now,” you whisper.

“You’re like me,” Wonwoo agrees. “Do you have any regrets?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Do you?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “Just one.”

“Yeah?” You shift closer, palms flattening against his cold chest.

“After you passed out, I realized there’s one thing I never said to you while you were human, not in so many words, at least.”

“It’s not like you’ve known me long,” you try to assure him.

“That doesn’t matter,” Wonwoo insists. “I still should have said it. Like you wanting to experience me while still human, I should have said it while you still had a heart that beats.”

“I hate to break it to you, mister vampire,” you grin, taking his hand and pressing it to your chest, “but my dead heart is beating for you the same way yours beats for me. Just say it now.”

Wonwoo takes his hand from your chest, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I love you, even though I thought I’d never love anyone. I thought I’d be alone forever, but now… here you are. And I… I love you.”

You grin at your vampire mate, adoring how vulnerable he’s being with you. “I also thought I’d be alone forever,” you admit. “Thought I’d die young and bloody, which, I guess is kind of true, but you’ve given me something new, something I could have never imagined, and I can’t wait to explore this second life with you. I love you too, Wonwoo, as crazy as it sounds.”

Wonwoo grins, and you return the expression. His thumb moves up to drag past your teeth. “The fangs suit you, my love,” he muses.

The petname makes you smile wider, shifting closer and wrapping your leg around his hip, mounting the pretty vampire. “Hungry,” you whisper, leaning down to press your lips to his neck.

“We’ll have to go get you some food.”

“Not for that,” you laugh, licking his throat. “For you.”

“Are you sure you’re strong enough, darling?” Wonwoo asks. “You’ve just been turned, maybe you should rest-”

“I’ve got strength enough to have you again, that is… if you have the energy, my big, scary, vampire master.”

Now it’s his turn to moan at the new petname, even if it is said slightly in jest.

“Still a brat,” Wonwoo muses, fingers skimming down your sides.

“You’ll be entertained forever,” you insist.

“And what if master tells you to be a good girl and keep your pretty mouth shut?”

You laugh. “Then you’d miss me after a minute and ask me to start begging again.”

Wonwoo sighs in defeat, then he’s rolling the two of you so you’re on your back, pressed between him and the mattress. “I guess we might as well start your new life off with a bang, shouldn’t we, my love?”

“I’d be mad if we didn’t,” you admit.

Wonwoo only laughs, pressing his lips to yours. You might have forever with him, but right now, you’re as eager and needy as you’ve ever been, and he doesn’t mind catering to you, not one bit.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! Vampire Wonwoo just bites different- I know I say that about every new fic but for real, I'd initially planned on this being a more slow burn but Soulmate sexy vampire asshole Wonwoo? as if we all wouldn't be climbing that man like a tree

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below!

🔮 preview. “Tell me what you want.” You kind of hate it when he uses his vampire master abilities on you, but at the same time, it allows you to dish out your darkest fantasies with no fear of disapproval. “I want you to make me cum so hard I can’t even think.”

cw/ tw. Oral (f receiving), blood play/vampiric drinking from each other, biting, roughhousing, fingering, orgasm control, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, overstim, man handling, pinning, unprotected sex, dirty talk, praise, size kink, soft dom wonwoo, mentions of wandering eyes, multiple reader orgasms, thigh grinding, hair pulling, etc… I pet names: (hers) brat, darling.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.8k I teaser wc. 300

🌙 staring. Wonwoo x afab!reader

bonus

“Bratty baby is at it again,” Jeonghan says fondly, watching you saunter away from the table with Mingyu toward the bar. “Serves you right for staring at that juice box.”

“You’re not going to take my side on this one?” Wonwoo laughs, amused at the night's turn of events.

“Not a chance,” the long-haired vampire grins. “I don’t know why you’d even need to look at any of these fang bunnies with a soulmate like her.”

Wonwoo sighs, knowing his friend is right. He still can’t help but defend himself. “A man gets thirsty.”

“That’s what this is for,” Jeonghan retorts, swirling the liquid in his wine glass. “You gave up fang bunnies and juice boxes the moment you met your soulmate, and we both know it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Wonwoo shakes his head, eyes shifting to you again. He supposes it’s only fair that you get to flirt with the bartender after he’d just been caught looking at a scantily clad woman, but the fairness of the situation does little to lessen the fire building inside of him.

You should know by now that he only has eyes for you… even if his gaze wanders from time to time. He can’t help his predatory instincts, although, he should get more of a manage on them. In fact, he should stop bringing you to vampire bars altogether, but it’s difficult to resist a night out amongst his brood mates.

“We all know this is a kink of theirs,” Joshua muses. “They fight a little, piss each other off, and then they fuck in the back of Mingyu’s car while he drives them home like a chauffeur.”

“That’s only happened twice,” Wonwoo insists.

Joshua scoffs loudly. “Mingyu had to implement a no fucking in his jeep policy, it definitely happened more than twice.”

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general taglist

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

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thanks to those who interacted with the taglist :)

@kissesfrmwonwoo - @wonuskie - @yunjinified

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@justhere4kpop - @phucboy - @sayescomfortplace

@hansoullie - @lovelyhyuka14

#jeon wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo #svt #svt smut #svthub #vampire svt #seventeen #seventeen smut #wonwoo svt #svt wonwoo #vampire wonwoo #wonwoo smut #wonwoo

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oct0bra1ns · 5 months

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knockout!

Synopsis: So what if the referee was his obsession Pairing: Yandere boxer x referee reader Tw: manipulation, mentions of bringing harm to others, yanderes , breaking bones notes: i read a 13 pages manual for this, appreciate me pls, also imma make my masterlist soon >.> reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Yandere boxer! Who was your friend and gave you the idea for applying to the job, sure it’s an underground ring but hey, money’s money and he assured you it wasn’t that bad.

Yandere boxer! Who gives you a smirk the first time he sees you in uniform, sure it looked horrible on everyone else but it looked good on you. He leaves you alone before the match, his relationship with you was only between the two of you.

Yandere boxer! Who keeps you in his room, asking you stupid questions just to take up your time, i mean, why should his opponent spend any time with you.

Yandere boxer! Who can’t help but make you flustered when you check over his gear, especially with how delicate your hands are when you remove his piercings, scolding him for being stupid enough to leave it on.

Yandere boxer! Who’s a completely different person when he steps into the ring, he goes from being your friend to being one of the most respected boxers in the place, someone who was known for being ruthless.

Yandere boxer! Who can’t help but have a look of pride and also amusement when you try to enforce the rules, challenging people who were basically criminals. A bit silly but he doesn’t mind.

Yandere boxer! Who completely ruined his opponent’s life and limbs after they had the nerve to lay their hands on you, accusing you for foul play. This was an underground sport, what did the pest expect?

Yandere boxer! Who checks over you, making sure you weren’t badly injured after the match and making sure to patch any injuries you had.

Yandere boxer!who never loses in his official matches but comes home battered and bruised just so you can take care of him.

Yandere boxer! Who stops caring about the rules and walks around with you before the match, making sure no one touches you.

Yandere boxer! Who broke his boss’s hand when he tried to get you away from him, no matter what you were staying.

Yandere boxer!was a force to be reckoned with in the hidden fight clubs, but it was the you who held your heart outside of the brutal confines of the makeshift rings

#octo writes #tw yandere #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x willing reader #yandere boxer #male yandere #yandere male #yandere headcanons

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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 1 month

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Our Little Love part seven - OT7 Mafia/Yandere au

What’s that saying? One step forward two steps back? 👀 6K words containing: manipulation, toxic yandere men, non-consented acts of affection, lies, possessive behaviour, jealousy, allusion to crime and kidnapping.

“Little love,” Jin calls for you absentmindedly, frowning when you don’t look up from your book to answer him. It’s one you had read a million times before, maybe you didn’t hear him.

“Little love?” He tries again, looking confused as you let out a disgruntled sigh of annoyance.

He can see your jaw clench, something had pissed you off. Your foot became restless as you sat in the arm chair, it was only when Jimin cleared his throat obviously he remembered the terms and conditions you had enforced.

This time he lets out a big sigh, one of tested patience. He mumbles an apology before turning away, a bitter feeling creeping up his chest. Fuck, he resented the fact he couldn’t call you that anymore, it was like asking him not to breathe. Fuck fuck fuck, they needed to earn your forgiveness soon or this might actually kill them. Not that they ever underestimated you, but you really did know which weapons to pull to hurt them the most, and fuck did he have to admit they deserved it. Didn’t mean he had to like any of it.

Jimin follows him out, a quick glance back at you to see if you were paying any concern but of course not. Since the day you announced the break you’d been keeping your distance, Jimin had complained about it childishly with tantrum tears in his eyes but you had patiently explained you needed the space to clear your head.

Jimin scoffs at the memory, feeling sour about it still. The pout he wears gives away his thoughts when they both find Yoongi in the kitchen.

“Little love giving you a hard time?” he says almost amused.

It’s Jin’s turn to scoff dramatically, ears burning so red, Yoongi swears there’s steam.

“We can’t call her that anymore,” he complains, sulking.

Yoongi smiles a little, not because he truly found his hyung’s pain entertaining, but because he understood the pain.

“It’s a difficult situation,” Yoongi agrees, “but the alternative would have been so much worse.”

Jimin and Jin stare silently at him, their gazes aggressive as if they wanted to hit the male but they didn’t because he was right. The worst alternative wasn’t expecting you to leave, they all knew they would never let that happen, but if you had become a ghost of yourself, if they had broken you so badly there was nothing left to rebuild, then what would be left of you?

“When did you become so considerate?” Jimin scoffs, rolling his eyes. He didn’t like any of it, he didn’t care if you were right and they were wrong, you had taken away their most prized and valuable possession, you. He couldn’t help the internal tantrums as if someone had taken away his favourite toy. Call him childish, call him whatever the hell you wanted, he hated this situation, and he couldn’t hide it.

They apologised, and apologised, and apologised, and you still gave them the cruellest punishment you could think of.

“You’re still thinking with anger,” Yoongi acknowledges, knowing when Jimin cooled down from this he would probably be the one with the most regret and remorse, what he didn’t know is Jimin was clinging to his resentment with all his might, because once that gave way he would have so much to answer for.

—

Men would pay money to see Jung Hoseok hesitate, but that was exactly what he was doing now. Another book in your hand (you were reading a bit too much lately, he didn’t like it, it was as if you knew you couldn’t leave physically so you were doing so mentally), and he was stalling himself with interrupting you.

Your rejection cut holes into him, and that’s what he was afraid of when approaching you today. When he was younger he used to be afraid of everything, but after indulging in the horrors of survival and the syndicate, nothing terrified him any more, or so he thought before his heart belonged to you.

“Litt-” he catches himself before he says it too loud, clearing his throat quietly hoping you didn’t hear him. “Y/n?”

He sounds more confident, his more serious persona going up as if that would protect him here. He knew he needed it, any sane person after experiencing his pleasure and pain games would run at the sight of him, and a part of him was getting ready to catch you if you did.

You look at him and it has him crumbling. Something in his chest physically hurts him so bad he thinks he needs to go see a specialist, one glance from you and he’s ready to beg on his knees again for your forgiveness. The distance between you, although you were here in front of him, killed him. It felt eerily similar to what it did when you left, and it confused his brain and body so much.

He had to remind himself every day, you were still here, you still loved them, this was just temporary.

“I-I wasjus- I was just heading to the b-basment,” forget money, men would lay down their lives to see Jung Hoseok stutter and stumble over his words.

You frown in question when he doesn’t continue, but stares at you expectantly, until he realises he hadn’t explained what he wanted.

“For a workout!” He rectifies himself quickly before taking a breath to calm himself, “I wondered if you wanted to join me?”

He mentally pats himself on the back quickly for sounding more put together, but then his nerves start to shake again when you don’t respond immediately. You contemplate it, for too long in his eyes, stretching out the pause until you have the man sweating. Who needs a work out, just piss your girlfriend off and try to spend time with her while she's still mad.

“Yeah, okay,” you nod, finally putting down your book (he should get Jimin to burn them all). “I’ll go get changed.”

The relief and joy that floods Hobi almost makes him pass out, a genuine smile he hasn’t felt on his own face for days bursts through. This was a step in the right direction, you didn’t hate him or you would’ve shut him down. With the amount of hope in his system, he was getting giddy.

—

You wanted some time alone this evening, without them lingering around you, with poor attempts of covering their intentions with busying themselves. As if you couldn’t see Jimin’s imploring stare as he walked past you from the corner of your eyes. Or the way Jin would walk towards you, hesitate and then walk away.

You didn’t say they couldn’t talk to you, you were just on a break. Part of you knows you should seek them out and start civil conversation but that part also knew once you opened the door they would come barging through. An inch would turn into a mile and you would be back where you started.

So now you were busying yourself with the world’s worst chore, just to escape and breathe for a second, laundry. You were sorting through the load at a snail’s pace, knowing when you were done you’d have to endure them again. You’re so embedded in your own thoughts you don’t feel another presence join you.

Arms wrap around you, making you still. His figure almost engulfs you from behind, his nose already finding purchase on your neck as he buries himself against you. You try not to sigh, you were sick of hearing the sound yourself but it was always one of patience.

You understood how hard it was for them to accept your decision for a ‘break’, but all you wanted was some respect for it. And this broke your no touching rule.

“Tae let go,” you say without an ounce of emotion, continuing sorting out the laundry in front of you.

His only reaction to your words is the opposite of course, holding you tighter against him making your heart skip too many beats to count. Your skin sizzled with something akin to longing, a fire he only seemed to ignite when his breath hit your neck.

You don’t give in. You throw the item of clothing in your hand down, both hands on the edge of the basket as you still, standing statue as he tries his hardest to work through your defences. You don’t respond when he nuzzles his nose against where he’s buried, or to the rumble of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. His eyes are closed, you know they are, he’s relishing the moment all he can before you take it away.

He doesn’t feel you respond the way he wants you to, he wants you to melt against him and the urge is so strong but somehow you resist. He whines, the sound so soft near your ears you almost miss it. He tries holding you tighter still, his thumb stroking soft circles on your skin, trying to tempt you to break your resolve. Gentle, almost whisper like kisses are placed on your shoulder as he finally breaks away.

“Are you done?” You say almost coldly as he steps back, picking back up another item of clothing.

You hear him sniff but you don’t let it move you.

“Heaven, please,” he begs, a fist in your top clutching onto you.

That’s when you turn to face him. If he expects to see any softness in your gaze he’s sorely mistaken, it’s not a glare you’re giving him but it’s close enough that it burns. You don’t even flinch when you see tears in his eyes.

“I asked you not to touch me,” you state quietly but your words are firm. “Or that if you did, you asked first.”

He looks down, partly in shame, partly in grief. You can’t stand to see the sight, it makes your heart ache, so you walk away.

—

“Y/n?” Jungkook asks for your attention, biting his lips in worry. “Can I ask you about the book you’re reading?”

The others in the room feel an overwhelming sense of envy when you smile at the maknae. Jimin’s jaw goes slack as you scoot over to let Jungkook sit beside you. Envy was a dangerous thing, how he wanted to pluck the youngest of them out of the seat and take his place, but he hadn’t calmed his emotions down enough yet to approach you properly, and he knew if he did he’d ruin whatever rebuilding the others had done. No, he had to be patient with himself and withdraw, even if that meant physically. He was playing cards with Yoongi and Seokjin, but he places his cards down and leaves.

Jin’s pout overtakes his face when he turns away from the sight of Jungkook grinning while you talk animatedly, putting down a card without thinking and letting Yoongi take the win this round. Yoongi didn’t even notice, his gaze goes soft at the way you laugh at a teasing comment Jungkook made, a sound he hasn’t heard in what felt like forever. The sound even makes the corners of Jin’s pout pull up.

The youngest of the group honestly thought he was in paradise, he didn’t even care about the book he just wanted to hear you talk without reservation. His focus was on the way your eyes lit up, the genuine smile on your face, how does he try to make this moment last forever? He pays attention to every word you utter, asking the right question to keep you going, even making a joke here and there and feeling so pleased with himself when you laugh.

How did the relationship regress back so far that he felt like this was the start of it, like he was still pursuing you to give him a chance, like he had to work up the courage to ask you out all over again. The answer of course was in their mistakes, the thought dampens his mood but he pushes it away. He didn’t know when he would get another moment like this, he had to soak it all in and cherish it before it was over.

—

Your defences go up when you spot Jimin bringing Taehyung to you, the shorter male holding his hand guiding your bear like boyfriend in front of you. You look at them both expectantly, wondering what the theatrics were for. Taehyung sniffles, his face hanging low, his red hoodie pulled down as far as he can get it to hide himself.

“Taehyung has something he wants to say Heaven- I mean angel- I mean Y/n,” he corrects himself repeatedly with a shake of his head, cheeks burning in slight embarrassment at the blunder, but he wouldn’t apologise for it even it that made him a hypocrite for what he was making Taehyung do.

He pushes his friend gently, encouraging him to speak.

“Tae?” you say gently, remembering how harshly you spoke to him the other day.

Apparently that was all it took for the man to break down into tears in front of you, falling to his knees as he bawled. Your jaw drops in shock at the action, but you’re more surprised at the fact he holds himself back from launching into you for comfort.

You can see how hard it is to do so, he’s hugging himself, but his nails dig into the fabric of his clothes. He still doesn’t look at you, his gaze on the floor. You give him a second to compose himself, the sobs turning into little hiccups as he wipes his face with his sleeve.

When he looks at you it's your turn to grip the armrests of the chair with all your might, those glassy eyes beg you for love and it takes everything not to smother him in your embrace. But that would undo all the work you’ve been doing, you had to talk it out first and then maybe if this was resolved you could reward him with physical affection, just a little.

“I-I’m sorry,” he says through a hoarse voice, the sound only breaking your resolve further. “About the other day, I s-should’ve asked first.”

He tries to take a deep breath in but it’s shaky, for some reason what he wants to say next breaks him out into more tears. He covers his face as he cries, Jimin rubbing his back providing him with the comfort you couldn’t give just yet.

“Doyouhateme?”

The muffled question breaks your heart, Jimin can see it on your face and it has him fighting down a smirk. He may have played a hand at manipulating the situation, convincing Taehyung this was the best way to get back into your good books.

“Tae no,” you breathe, eyes watering but you blink back the tears. You didn’t want to show them any weakness anymore. “I don’t hate you.”

You sigh, eyes to the ceiling, as if begging for control over yourself as you try really hard to not give in to the feeling of wanting to crawl into his lap and hold him.

“I just really needed some space that day,” you explain, “and you caught me at a bad time.”

That wipes away Jimin’s elation, all this talk about space and distance, it already felt like you were living on Mars. How much space did you want? In his opinion there had been too much space, that was the problem, or were you forgetting the long agonising months of your absence?

Taehyung nods, thankfully retaining your attention away from Jimin who couldn’t hide his thoughts from his face.

—

You can’t sleep, tossing and turning from your side to your back and then to your side again. Were you fighting a losing battle? Were you being unfair in asking them to change? You remember cases of forgotten wives refusing to leave their no good husbands, the amount of inane times you heard the cries of ‘I can get him to change’... had you become one of those women? Then of course came the others, the women who knew they could not work miracles on their partners and gave up. Some left, some stayed, and you remember watching them all in the years of your career, arrogantly thinking it would never be you, no man would ever trap you like this. There was a joke in there somewhere, one man certainly didn’t, but seven did.

The knock on the door thankfully interrupts your endless circle of pity, a meek Jungkook peeking around as he opens the door. Something about the scene felt familiar but the shoe was on the other foot. He was waiting for permission to come in, you don’t know why the sight made you smile, made you warm.

If anyone was proof that they were trying for you it was Jungkook, Yoongi had kept his distance out of respect for your rules, you know he only did so because he couldn’t help himself if he got too close. Jimin was similar although, you could see he was keeping his distance mentally, angry with you and your conditions. It would pass, you were sure, or at least you hoped.

Jungkook was the only one that accepted everything without complaint, and you knew it wasn’t easy. You were so grateful to him for it, for respecting your boundaries sincerely, for giving you hope that this relationship could be salvaged.

He almost trips over himself when you pull the covers back wordlessly, inviting him in, the stumble of his legs as he races towards you makes you giggle. He climbs in without hesitation, about to reach out for you but he stops himself, eyes looking up at you, wanting to ask you out loud but too afraid to.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him quietly, as if talking loudly would break the peace you felt with him there, that you’d second guess yourself.

Arms you’ve longed for wrap around your waist, pulling you towards him. You hold him back gently, not letting yourself get lost in him the way you wanted. In the darkness, your gazes meet, talking loudly in a way filled the silence.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes out hard, unable to hold it in any longer.

“I’ve missed you too,” you admit.

He bites his lips to refrain from saying anything else, to break the illusion that everything was okay.

“I used to think I understood your darkness,” you murmur, stroking his hair out of his face.

He pulls you closer, burying his head against your chest, the youngest didn’t like how that sentence was going and part of him didn’t want to hear the rest.

“But I don’t think I ever did,” you confess in a whisper, starting to ramble. “I don’t get it Kookie, why me? This obsession, I thought I felt it the same as you, I thought you guys understood me too.”

You let out a shaky breath, trying to keep up with your thoughts when you felt the hands of sleep trying to catch you.

“Maybe I was just trying to excuse my own darkness,” you sigh, almost in defeat. “Or maybe I just fed yours too much.”

“You gave us your love,” he mumbles against your skin, eyes closed as he breathes in your scent. “Your acceptance, you didn’t feed our darkness baby, you just didn’t see the extent of it.”

—

The silence is suffocating. Yoongi normally appreciates it but in this situation it was unsettling. They’re all in the living room, some pretending to do their own thing, but no one was paying any attention to anything other than you. Yoongi and Namjoon did so blatantly, Yoongi sitting on the couch away from you but his stare is nowhere else. This didn’t break the rules, you didn’t tell him he couldn’t soak you in with his eyes whenever he wanted.

The others were also very obvious with their glances towards you, Jin was dusting the same spot of the living room over and over. Hoseok flipping through the tv channels with Jungkook sitting beside him, the maknae biting his lips in worry with every peek he took, a habit he hadn’t had since he was a teenager. Taehyung and Jimin uncharacteristically played chess but all the pieces were in the wrong places, arbitrarily moving them just to keep appearances so you didn’t call them out.

And Namjoon… the man was staring daggers into your form. Elbow on his thigh, leaning forward, his chin on his thumb, his finger on his face tapping away on his cheekbone impatiently. He was supposed to be going over the papers in his lap, but they were being scrunched in his other hand. Yoongi thought he looked like a bomb about to explode, and he wasn’t wrong.

“That’s it!” Namjoon almost growls as he slams his file down, standing from his seat while everyone stares in shock at his outburst.

He walks towards you, and you meet his glare but refuse to move from the comfort and safety of the tub chair, you don’t even close your book.

“This ‘break’ is over,” he snarls, gestating with his hands trying to find a conduit for his anger. “Do you understand, little love?”

You look up at him with eyes simmering a fire he only ignited, meeting his glare head on.

“I decide when this break is over,” you say calmly, refusing to fight him at his level.

“No.”

“No?” Your brows scrunch in disbelief and anger, there goes your plan to remain calm. “What do you mean ‘no’?”

You throw your book back into the seat as you rise to meet him eye to eye, although he’s still looking down at you.

“I mean…” he breathes gruffly, grazing his hand with yours at your side. “No.”

“You can’t b-“

Your voice is smothered by his lips, his soft touch turning into an iron grip as he pulls you closer, devouring you like a man starved and in his eyes that’s exactly what he was. You push him away, but he doesn’t allow for any space between you.

Even when you’re banging your fist against his chest, unable to breathe, he doesn’t budge. You’re at his mercy, only when he decides he’s had enough (for now), does he pull away.

You look dishevelled almost, breathing hard, your eyes glistening with tears. The sight shouldn’t arouse him but it does.

You have the audacity to childishly wipe his kiss away with the back of your hand, a tough swipe that does nothing to erase the force he handled you with. He chuckles, the sound makes your ears burn, feeling the warmth of shame colour them in.

The others stare with the jaws wide open, fear settling in that this was taking too many steps in the wrong direction. It takes everything not to call you back when you storm away, it takes everything not to follow.

No one says a word, but they all glare accusingly at their leader except Taehyung, who only looks down in shame.

—

“Where do you think you’re going?” Yoongi asks gruffly, sleep still in his voice.

“Out.” You respond bluntly, avoiding his gaze.

“I asked where,” he pushes when you pull Taehyung’s hoodie over your head. You were drowning in the fabric, and he pretended the sight didn’t make him ache for you. The same way you were trying so hard not to let his sleepy state bring down your defences, no matter how cute he looked in the shorts and grey top.

“What does it look like Yoongi,” your head was spinning with too many thoughts and you needed to clear it. “For a run.”

“I’ll come with you,” he says it like an offer but it’s not, you know it’s not.

“No,” you refuse simply, finally meeting his stare. “Send one of your men to keep an eye on me, it's what you did before anyway.”

He’s quiet, observing you for a moment. You hated it when he did that, it was like he could see inside of you and yet, despite that, you felt like he couldn’t understand anything he saw. You break eye contact first, putting on your trainers while he continues to stare. Why couldn’t you read him the same, how could he still get under your skin with his silence even after all this time?

“I’ll send Jungkook,” he says as you open the door. “He’ll keep his distance.”

He doesn’t take the slam as you leave personally, he knows you just need to vent your frustrations, but because you were so isolated- sorry, because they isolated you, you had no one to vent to, no one who was objective to talk to. Physically stretching your mind would maybe do you some good.

“Did you seriously let her go out unsupervised?” Namjoon seethes as he approaches Yoongi, quick to dial one of their men regardless of what nefarious time of the morning it was. The first call goes to voicemail.

Yoongi sighs, he was on his way back to bed, guess not.

“She deserves our trust,” he replies. “And I was about to send Jungkook.”

“It’s not about trust,” Namjoon bites back, another call unanswered, “it’s about safety, or are you forgetting our enemies hunt our weaknesses.”

“Our enemies know if they touch her they’ve signed their own death certificate, no one would dare cross us now, not with the amount of blood we’ve shed,” Yoongi groans in aggravation. “Not to mention you’ve bought out the police Namjoon.”

“But not every policeman, or Captain, or are you forgetting what we did to him?”

“You gave him a warning, he’ll behave,” Yoongi states, ready to leave the conversation but he can’t help himself with what he says next. After Namjoon’s actions last night, he was feeling a little vengeful, even if he didn’t completely mean his words. “We should’ve left him unharmed, we knew she didn’t want us to hurt him.”

The shock in Namjoon’s eyes flashes for a second before they compose themselves to a stare. He puts his phone back in his pocket, maybe Jungkook was the best one to go, you didn’t seem to punish him as harshly as the others.

The silence between the men turns the air cold, their gazes stoic but speaking volumes. Namjoon wouldn’t stand for mutiny or disloyalty, he especially didn’t stand for anyone questioning his decisions.

“He hurt her,” he explains himself patiently, “he wants to take her away from us.”

Yoongi scoffs, a humourless grin on his face as he stares back in ridicule at their leader.

“We hurt her,” he states, eyes blank of emotion, “where’s our bullet to the knees.”

—

If you were being honest with yourself, you hated running, you hated the way each breath burned as it filled your lungs, how each limb could feel like lead, but the pain was better than the thoughts you were trying to clear.

You remember at the police academy, Suho and Kai used to run circles around you, but somewhere along the way your competitiveness got the better of you, and you trained harder than them both. It used to annoy you to hell that they were physically much stronger than you, but those days were some of the best. The three of you were so close, each other’s confidants when things went sour, the two you’d hang out with when a case went wrong. Now who did you have to confide in?

Maybe it’s your conscious or unconscious thoughts making your legs move in a particular direction, but you don’t realise where you’re headed until you see the sign above the door. The breakfast place… where everything went to shit a third time.

You barely glance inside as you run past but the sight of someone familiar makes you double take. Think of the devil and he appears?

His eyes catch yours when you stop in your tracks, he’s sitting at a table alone and the sight of him brings back that day like a breath after being underwater for so long. An apology is at the tip of your tongue, your eyes start to water, you know you have to keep running, if any of them finds you here with him, he’d be dead. You’re about to turn away when he waves at you, a simple smile that didn’t meet his eyes sent your way as he watches the realisation hit you.

His hand was covered in thick bandages, and your stare doesn’t leave them. There’s no thought in your mind as your legs move you into the building, ignoring the waiter's greeting as you walk towards your old Captain with dread.

He shifts in his seat, letting you see the bandages on his leg, around his knee, the crutches resting on the seat next to him. Your eyes are wide with shock before your gaze turns into one of mournful rage. Tears start forming in your eyes as you shake.

The sense of betrayal that overwhelms you has you reaching a hand for the table, gripping the edge tight to steady yourself.

They lied.

They looked you in the eyes and lied. All of them, including Jungkook. You don’t let yourself sob, not when a fire burns any attachment you felt towards them to dust.

You move your gaze from his injuries to his face, his stare never having left you.

“Arrest them,” your voice is hoarse but without a morsel of regret, anger paving the way forward now, filling the loss you felt deep inside of you.

They must’ve thought you were fucking stupid, they must’ve laughed behind your back, humoring you with their acts of trying to change. Fuck, you were a fool, they played you again and again and you just took it every fucking time. There was never going to be any change, and you refused to be their prisoner any longer.

“I’ll be your witness,” you say it with conviction, although a part of you grieves. “I’ll give you all the evidence you need, just send them away.”

Suho doesn’t say a word, and that makes it all so much worse. You can feel something creeping around you, shadows of them that have latched onto you, crawling all over your skin. You wanted rid of this dark energy, you wanted out.

You don’t break his stare, not for a second, you can tell he’s deep in thought, contemplating your resolve, and if he saw a hint of uncertainty in you he would do no such thing. Why would he risk it? They hurt him, they could hurt him again.

He reaches for his phone, and you take a premature breath of relief.

“Make the call,” he commands, handing the device to you.

—

When Yoongi dragged Jungkook out of bed this morning, the maknae had begrudgingly crawled out of the house. His body ran on autopilot when he left to find you, eyes half open, yawning in the morning air. His hoodie pushes his hair to fall in his face but he’s too tired to drag the fabric back.

It wouldn’t take long to find you, he could run circles around you if he wanted but the thought of maybe spending some time with you alone made his legs pick up the pace, a goofy grin on his face as he thought about it.

Yes you were probably mad about Namjoon’s actions yesterday, not that Jungkook blamed him all that much, it was hard to stay away from you, but he was starting to understand your perspective a little more. Especially after the last time you pulled away, and he couldn’t let that happen again, he wouldn’t survive it another time. He wouldn’t blame you if you gave him the cold shoulder, he just hopes you don’t punish him because of Namjoon, deflecting your anger wherever it did damage.

He’d calm you down, he’s sure of it. He’d tell you that what their big bad boss did was wrong and he was on your side, he’d tell you that he loved you and respected you, and it didn’t matter how long you took to forgive them he was sure the relationship would heal.

He’s so lost in thought he doesn’t realise how far he’s travelled, it’s only when there’s still no sight of you his grin begins to fade. He should’ve caught up to you by now, this was the route you normally take, and you knew better than to go another way.

What if… no. You wouldn’t dare leave again, you wouldn’t. Jungkook breaks into a sprint, running every route he can think of, not stopping for a moment even when his lungs and legs burn. He’s looking round like a mad man, but he can’t find you. What if something happened? What if someone got to you or hurt you? Memories flash in his mind to long, long ago when that was almost the case. What if?

Shit. A hand to his pocket tells him he’s left his phone, he couldn’t contact the others to join him. His best decision was to get back to the house asap. Jin would still have the tracker on your phone, they would find you, it was all going to be fine.

The fear that seized his heart was not fooled by such idealistic thoughts, his eyes had seen the true brutality of the world, sometimes caused by his own hands, and now his mind played a myriad of images of his little love in all the situations of pain he caused others. He always wondered if karma would catch him one day, he never thought it would take you.

—

He slams the door open so hard it struggles to stay on the hinges.

“I CAN’T FIND HER!” He yells into the open space of the home with all the air in his lungs.

It doesn’t take long for the hoard to assemble.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?” Jin yells back, reaching for his phone to track you without prompt.

Jungkook doesn’t miss the way Namjoon glares at Yoongi, the shorter man ignoring him.

“She’s probably taken another route,” he says calmly.

“You better hope that’s all,” Namjoon says through gritted teeth.

“What if someone’s got her?” Jimin panics.

“No,” Hoseok shuts that idea down, “everyone knows there is nowhere in Seoul to hide from us.”

“There’s always one idiot that’s willing to try, or have you forgotten the last time someone tried to take her?” Taehyung says heatedly.

“And we know how that ended,” Hoseok growls back.

The bickering among themselves grows in volume, so loud that they almost miss what Jin says.

“What?” It’s Yoongi that dares to ask him to repeat himself, the drumming in his ears drowning the words. He must’ve misheard…

“She’s at the police station,” there’s no mistaking it this time. Jin looks solemnly at Namjoon while all their heads spiral.

“She’s not gone there of her own will,” Yoongi shakes his head in denial, “they’ve arrested her or something.”

Namjoon says eerily quiet, his breathing hard, his jaw clenched.

“Namjoon we own the police,” Hoseok pushes, “make a fucking call see why she’s there.”

“Fuck making a call! I’m going over there,” Jungkook announces, turning back to the front door, but the sight of a police van pulling up at their mansion makes him stop in his tracks.

“Are they dropping her home,” Jimin asks stupidly, unable to comprehend why else they would be there.

The older four men look at eachother knowingly.

“Should we run?” Jin asks, making Taehyung and Jimin whip their heads to stare at him incredulously.

“Why would we run?” Namjoon breaks his silence, “they’ll take us right to her.”

As if on queue a smoke grenade rolls into the room, blasting off within seconds, covering the air. Namjoon almost laughs, they sent the fucking swat team, how ridiculous when they could’ve settled this like gentlemen.

Bodies swarm in, yelling commands and they all fall to their knees as instructed. On any other day, if you were home, these men wouldn’t make it through the door, but Namjoon was right, they were a one way ticket to finding you.

608 notes · View notes

prompt-heaven · 8 months

Text

100 different AUs

academic au

alien au

alpha/beta/omega au

amnesia au

apocalypse au

artist au

arranged marriage au

assassin au

athlete au

babysitter/nanny au

bakery au

bartender au

billionaire au

bodyguard au

bodyswap au

bookstore au

bounty hunter au

brother's best friend/dad's best friend au

camgirl au

camp counselor au

chef au

circus au

coffee shop au

cowboy au

cult au

dark au

deserted island au

dog walker au

dystopian au

enemies to lovers/rivals au

fairy tale au

fake relationship au

fantasy au

farm au

firefighter au

fisherman au

flower shop au

friends with benefits au

ghost au

grocery store au

guardian angel au

haunted house au

historical au

hitchhiker au

holiday au

hospital au

hunter/prey au

kidnapping au

law enforcement au

library au

lifeguard au

lumberjack au

mafia/mob au

maid/butler au

magic au

master/slave au

mechanic au

mermaid au

model au

modern au

monster au

mundane au

music store au

neighbour au

office/coworker au

paranormal investigator au

pen pal au

pirate au

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cinnamonest · 3 months

Text

Uhtceare

Yandere Ayato x Reader - "Failed escape attempt" series

(I still cannot publish posts that have people tagged. I don't know why, it just gives me an error popup saying it couldn't be processed. Apologies to those in my taglist.)

Warning: DARK CONTENT, noncon/dubcon, implications of forced/coerced marriage, masturbation voyeurism that’s also kinda forced, manipulative use of mental health and problematic way of addressing it, gaslighting and psychological manipulation, implied future forced drugging, there’s just a lot of my man being awful here

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“Ah, there you are.”

Of course. He would be right there at the entrance waiting, wouldn’t he.

You were hoping to get a few more seconds to put off the inevitable, but the reality of your situation was not so kind as to grant you that. It was all far too fast — the full events of the night before, the journey of being dragged back here — flanked on all sides by doushin all the while — all went by in a blur, leading up to this very dreaded moment.

You kept your gaze turned to the ground, unable to bring yourself to make eye contact. Your fingers curled, digging into the fabric around your thighs.

Nonetheless, without even hesitating nor willing it, you found your feet moving on their own. Perhaps it was instinct, to get away from the unfamiliar men that made you so uncomfortable and uneasy, and into the arms that, despite everything, were at least familiar, and thereby a comfort at the end of your long trial of distress and misery. Maybe you knew it was expected, and feared some consequence for not acting as you knew you should. Or maybe some of both.

Regardless, your feet shuffled forward, any thoughts muted in favor of instinct as you bounded over towards your husband — as much as you hated to acknowledge it, your one source of comfort. As you grew close, he reached an arm out, hand firmly planting itself on your back and pulling you in. Perhaps out of that same sense of fear at the thought of disobeying expectations, perhaps out of pure exhaustion, you allowed it without struggle coming to stand directly by his side, grasping at his clothes, burying your head against him and squeezing your eyes shut as if it would obscure the others’ view of you.

“I can’t thank you enough. You have no idea how worried I was about her,” he spoke to the arrangement of men now standing a ways away, moving his hand on to rest atop your head. “I apologize for the inconvenience. The poor thing gets a bit irrational from time to time. You know how it is.”

The other men only gave a brief, curt sound of acknowledgement. One, the own standing closest to the two of you based on how close the voice sounded, seemed to deem it appropriate to give at least some response. “Of course, sir.”

Not that that actually made any sense, that such a bizarre thing to say could ever warrant an ‘of course’ as a reply. But they weren’t there to be sensible, to assess the situation and act according to any supposed principles. To help. They were there only to follow through with an assigned task, one that they had not even tried to conceal in their expressions and tones towards you was an unwanted inconvenience, and to turn a blind eye to any conclusions they might draw.

Maybe that too was intentional — the estate lord could have easily sent his private forces to be the ones to escort you back to the estate, yet he chose to allow the public law enforcement to return you. Perhaps he knew you’d grown to resent the family’s private forces, and thereby had no issue inconveniencing them, whereas he knew you’d feel more embarrassment and guilt having strangers be forced to bring you all the way back… yes, the more you thought about it, that certainly seemed like that was his intent.

“I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble?”

“Not at all, sir.”

“Ah, I see, that’s good to hear.”

Your hands balled into fists.

The whole show made of it all was utterly humiliating — that too no doubt the intention — but you had no choice but to stand there. Doing something rash like running off to hide yourself from the embarrassment would only meet a worse consequence later.

The burning, bitter anger only made said embarrassment that much worse. It was consuming, maddening. Everything — this place, these people, their words and their attitudes, their dismissal of you as if you were a child or an animal — it made you so damn mad, and yet, you could do nothing but endure.

Your eyes burned. You blinked a few times in rapid succession. You couldn’t forgive yourself if you actually cried in front of these strangers. The back-and-forth between the two parties continued, but you did your best to tune out the words, knowing that listening would only hurt you further.

It wasn’t until there was movement that you returned your attention to them, pulling your head away from him to look — now they were turning, walking away.

Leaving you alone with him.

You then dared not avert your eyes from the ground, watching the men from your peripheral vision as they made their way down the path, growing smaller and smaller and they moved further away, until their footsteps were no longer audible.

All that remained was a heavy, palpable tension.

Avoidance was the easiest path — a foolish choice, of course, which you knew full well. It wasn't as if you could avoid the present reality forever, but nonetheless, you found yourself clinging to each precious second that ticked by, body growing stiffer as you braced yourself for the inevitable. Perhaps you could trick yourself into believing that if you just kept your gaze turned to the ground, nothing would happen.

But sure enough, you clenched your jaw as his hand moved upwards, and came to rest on your shoulder.

“Come on now. You're certainly tired. Let’s get you to rest for a while.”

His voice only made your stomach twist further. It was calm and gentle, not explosive or infuriated. It would have felt more assuring that way, if your fear could just be easily confirmed, rather than a calculated calm that felt far more dreadful and foreboding than any rage.

His hand moved from your shoulder, coming down to grasp your wrist. It wasn’t a sudden, harsh motion, nor was the grip itself strong enough as to be painful — but it was noticeably firm.

And then, he pulled. A soft tug, pulling you in the direction of the doors.

Your resistance was not a conscious choice, not something you thought about nor had any time to do so; it was only a reflex. Instinctively, your body stiffened, your feet dug into the ground, and thus his pull was met not with the meek obedience that was expected of you, with footsteps that followed where you were guided, but instead a firm resistance.

Your own realization of that resistance, what you’d just done, sent a sharp rush of fear through your veins.

And thus, for the first time since arriving, your gaze tilted upward, and your wide, frightened eyes met his.

His expression shifted. The amiable, pleasant smile half-faded, still present, but only barely.

“…Don't be difficult. Come on.”

Likewise, his voice dropped far lower, a dark and foreboding tone far removed from the one he’d spoken with just moments ago to the other men.

Your mouth opened, instinctively wanting to reply, but you couldn't summon a coherent thought. You were afraid, you were angry, you were so, so embittered and ashamed and wanted nothing more than to run to your room, close your eyes and burrow into the bed.

And for a moment, you considered the compliant option. If you just lowered your head and followed along, apologized and insisted you were just being petty or immature or whatever he would call it this time, and took whatever consequence was handed out, then you could do just that, confine yourself to your bed and try to forget it all.

But the shame only fueled the fury, like gasoline to a fire. It was his fault. As scared of punishment as you were, your pride could not stand for simply bowing your head, and as your mind raced, the sheer fury you’d been stewing in all throughout the night before, all the angry words you’d monologued in your head and vowed to spew at him when you saw him again, all came rushing back.

You swallowed, fingers curling even harder around the fabric around your thighs. Now that it was just the two of you, although you still fought it as best as you could, you couldn’t help that your eyes watered, burning as your vision blurred out of pure frustration and misery.

“I… I know you did all of this on purpose! I only got all the way out there because you let me, a-and…”

The words came out in a trembling, wavering voice, far weaker than intended.

He exhaled a heavy sigh, closing his eyes in frustration. His voice was still characteristically gentle, but you could hear his patience waning. “We can discuss this inside.”

“But I—”

“Inside.”

You stiffened, freezing in place. That was not a tone you heard often in your married life, more firm than normal.

You swallowed, gaze darting to the ground again, unable to summon a reply and not wanting to make eye contact again. With another heavy exhale, he pulled at your arm with a gentle tug, and this time, you followed, feet quickly shuffling behind his.

You didn’t say a word, though, through the full minute or so of walking across the courtyard, through the front doors, down the hall, only dimly lit today due to curtains hanging over the windows lining the walls. It occurred to you with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you were headed straight for your shared bedroom, rather than one of the estate’s many drawing rooms and lounges, which meant the anticipated conversation to come would be one you’d both want kept in privacy. Your stomach felt as if it were turning in knots, your chest compressed by an unseen force, each breath feeling strenuous and weighted.

And then, finally, you both came to a halt as you reached the last room at the end of the hall. You felt helpless, unable to do anything as you watched the handle of the door turn, stumbling in as you were guided forward by the hand that came to gently press on your lower back.

Likewise, equally pitifully, you could do nothing but stand there and wait as you listened for the door to close behind you, clenching your jaw at the trepidation in your chest from the footsteps on the floor behind you, but made sure to not let your fear swallow your fury.

“Now,” he began slowly as he moved around you to the other side of the room, voice now back to its usual tone, but still firm nonetheless, “I can tell you have a great deal you want to get off your chest, but you’ll have to forgive me for a moment… your well-being is my primary concern.” He looked you up and down, and his voice took on a note of concern that admittedly sounded sincere. “You aren’t hurt in any way, are you, dear?”

You bit your lip at the affectionate term, and more importantly, at how unbothered he came across. Granted, you now knew just how much of the past twelve hours or so had been entirely within his control, so it made sense that he was never genuinely distressed, but admittedly, it was also disappointing. Part of you wanted him to have been panicked and worried, to get the satisfaction of knowing you’d successfully gotten under his skin.

Still, you shook your head, keeping your gaze to the ground as you gave a curt, frustrated reply. “No.”

“Good,” his eyes closed for a moment, taking a heavy breath of pause. “Well, in that case…” He leaned back against the wall, folding his arms. “I believe this would be the best time to give you a moment to explain yourself.”

You couldn’t miss the obvious foreboding in his voice, nor the way it made your body stiffen.

But you had already prepared for that — you knew it would be intimidating, that it would be awkward and shameful, but you had spent the previous few hours trying to preemptively harden your resolve against that. Besides, after it was interrupted earlier, you now had the chance to get back to what was essentially the pre-written script you’d memorized in your head of exactly every little thing you wanted to say to him.

Unfortunately, as it turned out, the you that was standing there in front of him was significantly less brave than the ‘you’ in the scenes you’d played out in your head on the journey home.

Still, you clenched your hands into fists, thinking you had to at least force him to acknowledge the one point you’d deemed most important.

“You let me leave.”

In your mind, you’d spoken with a bold voice and looked him directly in the eye… and while the same words came out of your mouth, they were instead said with a weak, shrill attempt at an accusatory tone, pathetically looking to the wall as you found yourself unable to summon the gall to look up, once more lacking the firm accusation and self-assuredness your imaginative self had had.

He tilted his head. “That’s not a very accurate way to put it. I never granted you any such permission… I was simply aware of your intent to run off, and didn’t stop you.”

For a moment, you contemplated asking how he knew — but you had a feeling the answer would only make you more upset. His voice was laden with a faux sincerity, a sort of disingenuousness that made your blood boil, enough to embolden you further as you continued.

“And you… you had people following me the whole time, I know you did!” Your voice began to get louder as you grew bolder, bitter anger strengthening you against any trepidation. “They didn't even do a good job! I started noticing them towards the end of it!”

"Well, that would be because they were specifically told that concealment was not necessary.” He kept up the dry manner of speech, seemingly unbothered by your fury. “They deserve a break from high effort jobs every now and then, surely you understand. Besides, they didn’t directly interfere with your little outing, yes?”

He was so calm in contrast to your visible irritation, no doubt at least in part deliberate. It only served to make you even more mad.

“They told the local doushin to — no, you told them to tell them! There’s no other way that could have happened! I-I, I got," in sheer frustration, you jerked your fists in a sharp downward motion, "arrested!"

“I’m very well aware.”

“They put me in jail!”

“I do believe that is the standard process for an arrest, yes.”

“I was all by myself for hours!”

“Naturally. I couldn’t allow you to be placed with any dangerous persons, that’s why you were put in a solitary space.”

You clenched your fists so hard they trembled. “You, y-you let me get that far in the first place, and, and…” A lump formed in your throat again, which you did your best to suppress. “…Just to make me go through all that… I was there for hours before they came for me…” Your face scrunched up as you fought the urge to cry.

You hung your head, shoulders falling as you let your body relax, the fuse of anger burning out as it turned to a quiet bitterness swelling in your stomach. What was even the point? You knew better than to think your emotions would be given any weight, treated as anything beyond trivial.

A few moments of quiet passed, perhaps to see if you would say anything more, or perhaps just to force you to wait in uncomfortable uncertainty. After a moment, he shifted his posture slightly before unfolding one arm, holding out his hand in a standard gesture of speech.

“And what have we learned?”

You never would have thought one question could send such a spark of fury through your body in a single moment. Everything, from the wording to the timing to his tone, felt utterly mocking, infantilizing in a way that made you seethe.

You swallowed, practically trembling. “That you’ll go to any lengths to humiliate me?”

He returned the extended arm to its former position, exhaling heavily, straightening his stance. “It's rather unfair to assume I had such malicious intent. Stopping you early on in the past has clearly not worked in the long term, so further measures were necessary.” He tilted his head to meet your averted gaze, reflexively turning your attention back to him, eyes connecting with yours. “My only intention was that you would have some time to reflect on your series of decisions… and hopefully return with a change of heart. These episodes of yours are worrisome.” He gave a brief pause before finishing, “claiming I had cruel intent when you know in your heart that I only arranged this because I care for you… that's rather harsh, isn't it?”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to acknowledge the notion that the words were genuine. Admittedly having fallen for the words die a moment, you mentally shook off the momentary feeling of guilt.

These situations always went the same way, you'd be driven to apologize and feel bad about your choices. You had never met anyone else in your life with such a mastery of speech-craft as to be able to control your emotions and actions with words as easily as if it were pushing buttons on a machine. The first few times, you'd actually fallen for it, found yourself completely malleable, psyche bending and shifting to another's whims. At least with time, you'd become more resilient, had learned to notice and recognize the attempts… so you believed.

You opted to avoid answering the quesiton. Instead of acknowledging his own words, you turned to another matter that had come to mind during your escapade.

“Aren’t you abusing your authority? How are you even allowed to do this to begin with?!”

He took another deep breath, as if it were a trivial matter, or one that shouldn’t necessitate explanation.

“It’s… complicated, but the law does fully permit estates to employ local forces to locate any missing property belonging to the estate… people employed or bound to it are a sort of grey area in that regard.” After a moment of pause, he added, “besides, I also made it very clear that you were not in your right mind at the time, so your wellbeing was of immediate concern, and they were happy to help.”

“What?” The anger in your tone only rose. “I was perfectly in my right mind, you, you… a-and I’m not…”

A few moments passed as you trailed off, having to pause to collect yourself, blink away frustrated tears.

He opened his mouth as if to respond, but seemed to decide against whatever he'd considered saying, closing his eyes and taking a breath before finally replying in a more exasperated tone.

“You're making yourself upset needlessly. I can only do so much… in the end, I only wanted to keep you safe. You have to be the one to accept the grace you're given. Wouldn't that be easier for you?”

There was still unease to his tone, but the way he said it was nonetheless indicative of a sort of tiredness, as if not wanting to carry on about the matter anymore. It almost sounded like he was saying that you “accepting” his “grace” was all that was required to bury the matter entirely.

You spoke slowly, cautiously.

“You’re not… mad?”

“…I never said that.” He shifted away from leaning against the wall, standing upright. ”Of course, I can’t allow this to go entirely unacknowledged.”

He took a few steps towards you, and you fought the urge to step back, keeping your arms rigidly straight at your side as he continued.

“Normally, a proper form of consequence would be in order… however, after consideration, I realized that this was in large part my own fault, and I owe it to you to take responsibility for that.”

The words took you by surprise. The idea that he was in any way acknowledging that he had any responsibility for what you did was baffling, all things considered. He had never once even acknowledged that refusing to let you leave the estate was essentially holding you prisoner, and usually insisted that everything he did was what was best for you, even if, as he seemed to believe was the case, you did not understand that.

You hesitated before replying. “What… what do you mean?”

He flashed you an amiable smile. “A lesser person would only act on their momentary frustrations, but I’m not the sort of person who acts without understanding the situation. Luckily, I do understand you.” He looked off to the side, holding a hand up to his chin in a pensive pose, before adding in a quieter voice, “I made the mistake of getting too caught up in my work recently. Acting out over feelings of neglect is entirely different from misbehavior out of sheer petulance.”

He turned his head back towards you again before finishing,

“It would be cruel to respond to a cry for attention as if it were ordinary disobedience.”

The words took you aback, and you hesitated in your response, but as it fully registered in your mind, the momentary surprise was replaced with shameful fury. You held your arms firmly at your side, hands balled into fists as you replied.

“What?! I didn't— I didn’t do it for attention!”

You felt foolish for thinking for even a second that he might actually empathize with you, might finally come to enough humility to realize that much of your perceived disobedience was due to the sheer degree of meticulous, total control he held over everything you did. But no, instead, your attempt to run away was being treated as attention-seeking. It felt belittling, degrading.

He took a short breath, as if about to say something, but as his gaze fell upon you again, he simply exhaled, an amused smile forming on his face, replacing the former exasperation — and only infuriating you further, realizing even your anger wouldn't be taken seriously.

“Yes, yes, of course.” He made no effort to hide the dismissive amusement in his voice, either, but cleared his throat before returning to a more neutral tone before you could give any retort. “Regardless, you've been through a lot already. If you can be mature and calm down, make some acknowledgement of the trouble you’ve caused and show some remorse, then, I'm willing to somewhat overlook this.” Making direct contact between your eyes and his, he finished, “Won’t that be easier on us both?”

The obvious dismissal of your statement and implications of what he thought made your face feel hot. The embarrassment that had already been weighing down on you now became suffocating, and the utter arrogance of the presumption of your willingness to comply made you so upset it felt nauseating.

“What does ‘somewhat’ mean?” You tried to suppress the irritation in your voice.

He gave another heavy sigh. “Should you really be asking for specifics? It’s your best course of action regardless.”

You opened your mouth and inhaled as if to speak, holding your closed fists up to your chest, ready to spew every ounce of vitriol you’d been building up, and then, you fell silent as your eyes met.

His expression grew dark, eyes half-lidded and features blank — not contorted with anger nor curiosity, but merely waiting, watching, warning. Anticipating your defiance, prepared to react accordingly.

You looked down, hesitating.

Was it really worth it…? A few moments of lashing out, at what cost? ‘Consequences’ hurt, in one sense or another, they always did, no matter what form that word took.

You swallowed. He was right — one path before you was wiser.

You hung your head.

“…I’m sorry…”

Even with your gaze turned downward, you could see his eyes widen just a bit in your peripheral vision, not having expected such quick compliance — understandably so, based on your past incidents. But after a moment, his expression softened. He took another step, closing the gap between you, cupping your face in his hands and forcing you to lift your head back up.

“Mm. I’m glad you understand. You know, you've matured quite a bit recently.”

You almost, almost found yourself feeling happy at the praise, but then pushed that feeling away. It was part of the way he did things, part of the process, so you'd slowly come to recognize, putting the pieces together over and over until you became aware of how he managed to bring you down to submission each time. You refused to be swayed by that. You were only giving it up and apologizing because it was the was the easier, less painful choice… so you reminded yourself. Now, at least, you'd be done with this, could move on and quietly begin plotting again.

But then, as you felt his hand move down to your shoulder, then to your waist, you remembered the ‘somewhat.’

Yes, of course it couldn’t be left at that, wouldn’t be so simple as forcing you into humility just once.

You knew that full well. These checks of obedience after an act of disobedience never came solitary, and the desire for that subservience to be affirmed was not easily satiated. It would only grow deeper, an increasing hunger for your subservience. Pushing your pride further and further down, carving into your personhood and whittling away anything deemed unfitting. It would only go further, debasing you in increasingly violating ways.

You felt a gnawing in your stomach. You hadn’t thought of that part, in the moment, but the realization now made your heartrate begin to accelerate once more.

His eyes drifted downward.

“…Ah, right. The clothes you’re wearing, we need to have a servant wash them for you. Just set them by the door for now.”

You looked down. You hadn’t even bothered to think about it until now, having been so preoccupied with other thoughts, but indeed, the oh-so-nice and expensive clothing you’d been so lovingly lavished with, was now fully coated in grime and dirt.

At the same time, your immediate instinct was to protest the idea, knowing the intent. He wasn’t going to get you a replacement — which he himself would need to do, seeing as all of your clothing was, no doubt deliberately, kept outside the bedroom itself, and it had been established early on that you were to rely on him or servants to fetch whatever he would have you wear that day for you. Was the command too, then, intentional?

The very moment you even asked yourself the question, though, came the immediate answer, making you feel foolish for even questioning it. Of course it was intentional, planned — what wasn’t, anymore, in your life? You remembered looking back, on the day you were brought here, thinking over the past with borderline horror at the realization of how intricately detailed and precise every detail had been in his effort — what you now were certain was a premeditated plan — to get your family to call off the years-long betrothal you’d already been in, and marry you off to him instead. That realization of it all had kept you rightfully afraid of him, knowing he was always one step ahead of whatever you might attempt.

The corners of your mouth pulled taut with embarrassment, and you pulled your hands in towards your chest again, elbows pressed firmly to your sides. “That’s…”

He caught a glimpse of your face, and in turn smiled, an amused sort of expression. “Come on now,” he took a step towards you, reaching out and grasping at your hands, pulling them out of their defensive position, “even now, you’re still so shy over this?”

“I— no, I’m not—” you cut off, teeth clacking together as you snapped your mouth shut when his hands released yours, instead moving around to the binding ties of your outfit, pulling the knot apart.

You held your hands up to the level of your shoulders, bent at the elbow, fingers curled as if preparing to reach forward, to grasp at his hands, to do something.

But you didn’t.

The exchange was itself a means of conversation, communicating something not fully articulable by word alone. Violating your comfort and dignity, baring you to him, those things themselves were an assertion, a statement. To interrupt would be to challenge that assertion, to deny him. And perhaps it was, in part, also a test, a question of whether or not you would dare to deny the unspoken statement.

As the silk strands came undone, the first layer gave way to the second, and pulling apart that knot caused the fabric bound by it to slide apart, exposing your bare skin to the cool air.

An unspoken reminder that your body was not your own, that any right to autonomy and privacy you might have beyond this room, no longer existed within it. Access to you was not a privilege granted by your permission, but an inherent right, provided by the very contract that legally bound you to him.

The casual, unhesitating manner with which you were stripped down only emphasized that that very reality itself was not something to be regarded as of any great significance, but a fact accepted as readily as any other. Exposing you, touching you, exercising that unconditional access to your body was given no greater thought than utilizing any of one’s possessions.

There was nothing he could ever say to you, nor adequate words to even exist, to fully encapsulate the degree to which you were owned — but with that gesture, you understood all the same.

And even though the humiliation of the reminder made your eyes burn, made you bite your lip, you lowered your hands to your side. An admission of defeat, surrender.

It did not go unnoticed. He smiled.

“Very good. You’re behaving much better today than I anticipated.”

Another moment of praise. He was genuinely pleased. You could see it and hear it through his face and voice.

Were it on any other matter, you might have felt proud to be praised in such a sweet, charming voice. If the praise were on something you actually wanted to achieve.

And then, his eyes trailed downward, running over your body, taking in each detail. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze settled on one particular spot.

“You really shouldn't lie to me,” he spoke in a quiet, low voice.

At first, you felt a momentary panic, not quite sure what he even meant, thinking you had somehow made a unintentional transgression. It wasn't until you looked down that you saw the scrape just below your collarbones from your, admittedly unsightly, vigorous resistance upon initial confrontation with the doushin the night prior, having essentially had to have been wrestled down to the concrete street. In hindsight, you were even surprised with yourself for putting up such a fight, but at the time it had just been the instinctive reflex, fueled by desperation.

It all felt distant now, as if further back in time than it was, the memory all blurring together. It was only a very small mark, and had now scabbed up as part of the natural healing process, but as his fingers brushed over the spot, you still tensed at the slight lingering sting.

“It doesn't really hurt,” you replied nonetheless. “It's fine…”

He only straightened back upright, closing his eyes momentarily.

“I suppose I shouldn't have expected common doushin to be able to follow instructions… just so you know, I did specifically say to ensure you weren't hurt in any way.” He turned his gaze downward, hand held to his chin as he added in a low mutter, “I'll be sure to only use private hands in the future, should I need something like this again.”

You shrugged, turning your eyes downward to the floor once more. Really, you wanted to not have to think about the incident any further, the mere memory stirring up embarrassment, which did not combine well with your already vulnerable state. “It's fine. It's not a big deal,” you grumbled. After a moment of hesitation, feeling another urge of spite, you added, “it wouldn't have happened if you didn't… do all that.”

He huffed in exasperation, but was quiet for the moment, seemingly composing his thoughts before replying.

“Don’t be disagreeable. We've discussed this. I care for you dearly, but that does not mean that you are exempt from expectations to behave.”

He always gave you that line — that a behavioral matter of yours had been previously ‘discussed,’ which merely meant he'd told you not to do something, or behave a certain way. That was the end-all-be-all — whatever you were told was set in stone the moment it left his mouth, and transgressing against the standard that was set was often treated as if you’d forgotten, as if it slipped your mind, the idea of intentional and deliberate disobedience being something unthinkable to such a degree that simply having done so by accident were more believable to him — and perhaps you ought be grateful for that.

You clamped your jaw shut, turning your head downward.

His gaze turned back to your body.

“…Your nerves are unsettled.” His hand slid it's way down your side, the feeling of touch lingering in a trail behind as his palm brushed over the curvature of your waist. “See, that's what causes these irrational episodes of yours. Stress, overexcitement. It just… builds naturally for you, over time.” After a moment, taking in your expression, he added, “it's nothing to feel bad about, dear. I don't mind helping you with it at all… I'm glad I can do so, really. I worry about how you'd manage without having me to help.”

You hesitated before giving a response. “What… what do you mean? I'm not… irrational…”

It was as if your words went in one ear and out the other, continuing on without responding to your objection. “But again, I failed to keep it in check this time, so this was ultimately my own fault… I'll have to make a note to be more thorough.”

His hand grasped at your waist, pulling you close. His other hand reached up, cupping your breast. He looked over towards your shared bed.

“Come on. Let's get you in bed.”

“Huh? But—”

His grip tightened. “Don't be difficult.”

Your stomach began to churn. You were still angry. The last thing you wanted was to go through what was essentially a humiliation ritual. There was something about the act itself — at least, between the two of you — that made you feel embarrassed and ashamed. The inherent vulnerability, for one, but moreover, because you knew the intent, you knew the way he viewed it in his mind, could practically feel the sentiment. An act of claiming, an exchange of power in which your loss of dignity became his gain of pride and control. Carving into your very personhood, marking you as something belonging to him.

Your opened your mouth, but whatever you intended to say was cut off by your small noise of surprise as you were pulled forward, in a manner that was somehow so gentle in touch, yet forceful enough to move your whole body towards his. His arm wrapped around your frame, the other positioning itself underneath your thighs before lifting you up and moving down to sit.

You fidgeted, tried to pull away — but his grip tightened, as much to secure you as it was a warning, telling you to hold still.

“It's for your sake. This will help you… you may not realize that yet, but you’ll thank me, I promise.”

His hands moved to your hips and turned you so that your back rested against his chest.

“As I was saying, you simply… build stress and neurosis, naturally. It's not your fault, really. You're just sensitive to changes, stressors... Every individual has at least some… defects in their nature.”

His hands retracted, and there was a brief rustling sound before they returned to your skin, now ungloved, flesh on flesh. The contact sent sparks through your nerves.

“That's why people pair with those they are compatible with. They fill each other's needs, compliment each other’s natures… I’m obligated to take those defects and resolve them.”

He gave you a smile — you couldn't see it, but could feel it as his lips pressed softly against your neck. Warm, full of sincerity and adoration.

“I wouldn’t do that if it weren’t out of care… and you in turn provide me with something that needs care and guidance. I enjoy having that.”

For all his attempts at soothing words and the gentleness of the touch, you knew in your heart that there was no doubt that that was part of the intent — to humble you, to tame you and make you docile, to make you submit. Forcing you to such a vulnerable state and inflicting reactions of pleasure was itself an act of exerting power and control.

It was, in a way, remarkable, that the human spirit could not only be broken by both brutal cruelty, but equally — or, perhaps even more effectively — eroded away with a gentle voice and touch, humiliation so deeply intertwined with affection that they became impossible to distinguish from each other, forming a unique sentiment that was both one and the other.

You were endearing to him, but that affection for you was like a venom that ran through your veins — an affection that diminished you, reduced you to some inhuman possession, a toy to be manipulated in any way he desired.

It made you feel sick. It made you feel angry, it tormented your psyche—

Your thoughts were turned to a haze as his fingers rolled your nipple between them. You inhaled a sharp gasp, back arching forward.

Processing your own reaction, embarrassment took place of the momentary pleasure, and your face felt hot. You reached an arm up instinctively to cover your breasts, pulling away from the touch.

“…We've had this conversation before, haven't we?” He reached up, grasping your jaw with a grip just firm enough to communicate a warning.

You swallowed and, albeit not without just a moment of hesitation, lowered your arm. You looked down, breasts now exposed fully. “I'm… sorry…”

He gave you a hum of approval, returning to the former fondling, fingers playing with the sensitive flesh. You bit your lip, breathing growing labored.

After a few minutes, his hands wandered downward, slowly, softly, down to your thighs, then back up over your hips, where they finally settled.

“Touch yourself.”

The command caught you off-guard. Your eyes widened. “…What?”

“Before I help you,” he murmured, “I want to see what you will do for me. That's only fair, don't you think?” He squeezed at your waist.

“Prove to me…” he leaned forward, breath hot against your ear, “that you know your place. Do as I say.”

You swallowed.

It was in your best interest to obey.

You reached down slowly, shivering as your fingers brushed over your clit. You pressed down, beginning to rub your outstretched fingers back and forth. With your other hand, you reached up, tweaking your nipple just enough to send pleasure through your nerves.

“There you go.” He pulled you a bit closer to him, so your bodies were firmly pressed together. He craned his neck, no doubt catching your abashed, embarrassed expression.

Not that he would give you any words of comfort on that matter, tell you not to feel embarrassed. He only smiled, grasping your hair and forcing your head to turn, pressing your mouth to his. It was only a short contact, parting with the softest of sounds.

His grip on your hip tightened, and you realized why he’d pulled back when he spoke.

“Don’t stop.”

You hadn’t realized you had, too focused on the slight surprise to being kissed. You took a shuddering breath, and resumed the motion. Your eyes closed, heightening your senses — the sensation of each touch and the shockwaves it sent through your core to every nerve in your body.

Your breathing quickly became labored. Even if you were inducing the sensation itself, it was good. You bit your lip as a soft, weak little sound came out of your throat, unable to refrain from vocalizing at the intensity of the feeling.

“Not just like that.” One of his hands reached down to your thigh, hand wrapping around the underside of it and pulling it to the side, spreading you open further. “Go on.”

“Mm…” You couldn’t summon any particular words, overwhelmed by the conflicting sensations — the heat to your face and knot in your stomach at the shameless way your body was so exposed, at the feeling of being watched as if the act were a performance, and the haze of arousal that rapidly began to cloud your judgement, obscuring the feeling of discomfiture, drowning your inhibition.

Even without the pleasure compromising your hesitation, you didn’t want to think about the alternatives if you refused to obey — this was thus far, comparatively, far from the worst consequences you’d ever received for acting out.

You reached down further, pushing two of your fingers past the slick coating your flesh and inside your body, curling them into the spot that made you tense, made your muscles spasm, over and over, each movement sparking a rush that surged throughout your body.

Each breath was a deep gasp. Your toes curled, your muscles went taut and your insides clenched around your own fingers.

But something was missing.

It was pleasurable, but there just wasn’t enough to push you over the edge. The sensations were too weak.

Your body had been conditioned something more, and this was not comparable.

Sweat began to accumulate on your skin as you kept curling your fingers, desperately chasing a high. His arm moved from your hip to wrap around your waist, pressing another kiss to your neck.

You tried. Frustration began to build. Your eyes watered as you curled your fingers as hard as you could, pressed as far in as they would go, down to the knuckle.

It wasn’t deep enough.

It wasn't what you were used to. Your fingers were too short, just short of reaching that one perfect spot that made you lose yourself in pleasure, melting to a mewling mess.

You shuddered. You couldn’t reach a climax, no matter how hard you tried to focus. Even without orgasm, though, your exertion reached a peak you couldn’t carry on further from, and your fingers stopped moving as you went limp, trying to catch your breath, frustration and desperation nearly enough to make you cry. Your head fell back, eyes closed as you panted.

You could feel the corners of his mouth upturn against the flesh of your neck.

“…Is something wrong?”

Your jaw clenched, and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

That was the other goal of it, besides proving yourself to him — it was also to prove something to you. Something you didn’t want to admit out loud, something that made your chest swell with bitterness just to admit to yourself, much more so to do so aloud.

“I can’t… I can't do it.”

“Mm.” He pulled you further back against him. “Then, what do you need?”

The tingling sensation, the desperate need, the remnant frustration of lost pleasure, was too much to bear. You swallowed your pride, closing your eyes as you forced the words out.

“…I need you to do it…”

You were expecting him to say something in return, but for a moment, he was only quiet. He began to drum his fingers back and forth against your waist.

“Is that so?”

You nodded again, which seemed to be to his displeasure—

“Use your words.”

“Yes…” You swallowed.

You waited, but no touch came.

“Hm. How odd.” His voice was low and quiet, but unmistakably derisive. “You seemed to think you were perfectly capable of caring for yourself, running off like you did.”

Your eyes welled with tears. You shook your head back and forth, unable to bring yourself to speak.

“No?” His hand trailed downward until it ghosted over your sex, the lightest of touches, borderline torment. “Then, you can't do this for yourself?”

“…No…”

He moved his face even closer, speaking directly into your ear.

“Then what do you say? Tell me exactly what you need. Show me.”

You swallowed. The burning of humiliation in your chest was almost too much to bear. Had your insides not still been alight with the wavering, tight feeling of need, your pride would have outweighed your desire. But in that moment, it did not.

You spread your still-quivering legs wide apart.

“…Please touch me.”

“Mm. And what do you want from that? For how long?”

You squeezed your eyes shut.

“I want to cum.”

Finally — finally — his fingers pressed down against your clit, enough pressure to send waves of pleasure up your spine.

“There, see…” He pressed another kiss to your face. “Aren't things so much easier when you just choose to be honest?”

You nodded. “Yes. I… I’m sorry…”

He gave a low hum of acknowledgement. “This stubbornness is just your nature.” His fingers slid back and forth, gracing the bundle of nerves with friction. “But that can be fixed.”

You bit your lip. “I… I’m not— ah—”

One motion of his hand was particularly firm, the sensation it sent through your nerves so intense it was almost painful. Your hands shot forward, grasping at his wrist.

It was only when the motion stopped that you realized you’d erred — it was a habit of reflexively grabbing at his hands when a sensation was too intense, trying to pry them off — something he very much did not like you doing.

Sure enough, he sighed, frustration blatantly evident. You jerked your hands away, but it was already too late to take back the first offense.

“…Now,” he started, “Can you refrain from doing that again, or do I need to bind them?”

“I…” you paused, realizing you genuinely needed to think it through. You weren’t certain if you could abstain.

You felt him shift back, leaning away from your body.

“Well, that’s enough of an answer itself.”

You heard the rustling of clothes, felt movement behind you, and you turned your head over your shoulder just in time to see as he pulled off first the top layer, then the undershirt over his head and off his body. You made a soft sound as he then pushed down on your back with a firm touch, forcing you to lean forward, grasping at your hands and pulling them behind your back — firmly, enough to be a clear message to not try to dissuade him, but your pride, weak as it was, still couldn't let it happen with no objection at all.

“Wait, wait, I can do it, I don't need—”

“This is for your sake. Hold still.”

“But I—”

“Be still.” He spoke firmly, but softened his voice as he continued, “It’s not your fault for having that reflex… but you have to train yourself against it. You want to be good, don't you?”

You shut your mouth, nodding as you sounded an answer. “Mm-hm…”

Cloth wrapped tightly around your wrists, using one sleeve to bind them together. Not enough of a bind that you couldn’t break out with some effort, but just enough to keep you from reflexively trying to interfere.

“Now where were we…”

You were pulled back once more, perhaps even closer. You could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your back.

And his hand quickly moved back down, and the bliss of shockwaves of pleasures overcame you once more. You whimpered, biting your lip.

His fingers pressed more firmly, rubbing circles into the nub, and for a moment, your wrists jerked against the bind as the reflex kicked in. It was too much at once, but now, you were prevented from doing anything about it. As he began to rub in circular motions, your body shuddered, and an involuntary moan came out of your throat — a wanton, shameful sound, laced with pleasure and lust.

“There you go.” You could feel him speak, shuddering at the vibration of his chest against your back and the warm breath against your ear. His other hand rolled your nipple between a finger and thumb. “Give into it.”

Your body trembled against his touch, and jolted as his own fingers pressed inside of you. His were longer, and the touches firmer, and the result was a degree of pleasure you were simply incapable of replicating on your own.

As much as you hated it — hated to think it, hated to acknowledge it, hated to try and not acknowledge it as the reality prodded at the back of your mind — he made you feel better than anything you had ever experienced, better than anything you could ever make yourself feel.

You whimpered, toes and fingers curling. Your hips moved, a rolling motion to meet each pressing movement.

A singular motion, and singular sound, both of which you near-immediately caught yourself doing, having been too lost in the feeling to think clearly. You cut off your voice and went still, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Don’t.” He didn’t stop moving his fingers as he spoke, instead pressing down with harsh force, essentially pulling you back closer to him with the hand partially inside you. “Holding yourself back like that is another form of dishonesty.”

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut, but unable to form a response before he continued.

“And you wouldn’t want,” the fingers that had been gently tweaking at your breast pinched down hard, a momentary spark of pain and the lowering of his voice making you go tense, “to make this unpleasant because you couldn’t be good for me, would you?”

You shook your head back and forth with vigor. There were many punishments in your domestic repertoire that were unpleasant, and the thought of any of them made your heart skip a beat. “No, no, I don’t… want that…”

“Then you’re going to be honest, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, I promise…”

“Mm.”

He kept rubbing his thumb against your clit, even in perfectly synched timing to each motion his fingers curled inward inside of you.

It was so pleasurable, so intense, it made you angry. Mad that he was capable of it, mad that his control over your body was greater than your own, and most of all, mad that he did it with such ease, effortless, that making you come undone entirely was something he mastered without ever being taught.

That pleasure began to build and build. You squirmed and whimpered, muscles throughout your body tensing and relaxing over and over. Your hips rolled into his hand. Each movement built the pressure in your body higher and higher, rapidly reaching a peak.

The edge that climax made you quiver, body and legs trembling.

“There it is…” his voice was so soft and gentle, soothing in a way it had no right to be.

The noise that came out of your mouth was nearly animal-like, a whimpering cry as you threw your head back, quivering and spasming. The waves of sensation pulsated throughout your body, reaching a peak and then beginning to ebb away.

You went limp, bodyweight falling back against his chest, heaving with heavy breaths. Your head felt as if it were spinning, and you stared forward in a dull stupor, body trembling with aftershock.

You twitched at the feeling of his fingers sliding out of you, with a wet squelching sound that made you shiver.

“Look at that…”

He spread his fingers apart, clear fluid forming a trail between them. You bit your lip, tilting your head downward in a futile attempt of avoidance of what you knew well came next — but that effort was quickly negated as he grabbed your jaw, turning your head back up and squeezing your face.

“Open.”

The force of the grip as he squeezed down more or less forced your jaw apart anyway. You didn't even get to take a breath before he pushed his fingers into your mouth, salty taste spreading over your tongue.

“Clean them off.”

Maybe it was a way of forcing you to acknowledge your own bodily reaction, even if you tried to deny it to yourself. Maybe it was much simpler than that — just another way to degrade you, or something simply arousing for him because it just was.

You complied nonetheless. Your tongue swirled around each finger, sucking and swallowing the taste of yourself. Even as he pulled his fingers back out, a string of saliva connected them to your tongue.

And then, after wiping his fingers off on the fabric around his thigh, he returned the arm to your waist, pulling you close, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“See… so much more at ease now, aren't you?”

That was one way to put it. You couldn't even bring words to your mind. Even processing what he said felt like a significant effort. Everything felt far away, your mind like a blank slate, numb and empty. Your body was even more exhausted, totally lax aside from involuntary twitches.

You made a soft sound as he turned your body to the side, just enough to look you face-to-face. Looking down at your watery eyes as they met his, the stupor in your expression, even as your brain began to clear, as if a machine turning back on after a few moments of darkness.

And he smiled. It was soft, full of endearment. And belittling. It was not made any better by the small chuckle he gave, patting the top of your head.

It burned in your chest, down into your stomach.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your lower lip quivered, an admittedly petulant pout. Shame formed a knot in your stomach. Disappointment in yourself, ending up like this again after swearing so many times over that this one would be the last, the last time you'd come apart so easily, the last time you'd find yourself spent and susceptible to the touch that seemed as if it were designed for your body.

And he laughed. An amused chuckle, patting your head.

“Mm. I had a feeling that wouldn't be quite enough.”

He leaned in, firmly grasping at your arms as you tried to squirm, bringing his mouth so close to yours, forehead resting against yours.

“But, that does admittedly work out for my sake.”

You grunted in surprise as he hooked his arm under your legs again, this time only lifting you just enough to set you down onto the padding of your bed, gently pushing on your shoulders until you were flat on your back, arched over your hands bound behind you.

“A-ah, I…” You swallowed, grasping at the sheets to the best of your ability. It was nothing you weren't anticipating, but the vulnerability made you tense.

It didn't help that he paused any motion, eyes trailing over your body, before reaching down and running his hands over your flesh, one moving to grip at your waist, the other your opposite hip. You couldn’t reach to cover yourself, forced to lay bare and vulnerable. Instinctively, you pressed your thighs together, but firm hands grabbed at the undersides, pushing them apart and positioning himself between them so you couldn’t close them again.

The former act was not enough. Putting you through the ordeal of being made to wait in jail like a child in time-out was not enough, exposing your body was not enough, toying with your body and forcing an acknowledgement of his own control was not enough.

Your lip trembled.

But anger still pervaded through your negative emotions. It compelled your courage, you felt defiance surging up. You had to look him in the eye, tell him exactly what you felt, tell him you knew what he was doing and push him off, then, maybe then you'd have the satisfaction of some sense of control.

You could do it. You had to.

“You… you're just doing the same thing as before!” Your eyebrows furrowed. “You’re trying to, to—”

“Again with this?” He tilted his head. “I really wish you wouldn’t assume such ill intent. This is how people love each other… you know that.”

You bit your lip. You almost, for just a second, fell for it, almost felt guilty. You shook your head forcefully, clearing your mind of the thought.

“No, I won't let you—”

And with that, there was a rapid shift in expression. His eyes narrowed in a piercing, foreboding look. You went silent.

Your shoulders stiffened. The words came out on impulse, resolve of defiance broken as quickly as it had formed. “I'm— I'm sorry—”

Dammit.

For once, the dark expression did not shift back to pleasant as soon as you apologized — an indicator of having gone too far. His hand slowly reached up, this time not in a loving caress or gentle-but-firm grip, but outright harsh grip on your jaw.

“You…”

He tilted his head forward to more directly look you in the eye. His voice was low and cold, making your heart race further.

“Do not ‘let’ anyone do anything.”

His fingertips pressed into your flesh, squeezing your face between them.

“I know you understand your place. Don’t behave as if you don’t.” Finally, his voice softened as he finished, “I can’t help you if you keep fighting me every step of the way. So… you’ll control yourself, won’t you?”

You swallowed, nodding your head, twitching as the motion made his fingernails dig into your cheeks.

“You know I don’t like being so harsh with you, don’t you?”

You nodded again.

“Good.” He leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Only for a short, chaste moment, but a slow, sensual motion nonetheless. You closed your eyes, tuning out the rustling clothes, heavily breathing with anticipation.

“You’ll have to forgive me for this. This whole ordeal has been stressful for me as well.”

You didn’t get time to ask what he meant — he rammed himself into you all at once, completely stuffing your body in one rough, forceful motion.

You cried out, back arching and body stiffening. You felt your insides clamp down, pulsating against the intrusion.

His hands tightened their grip on your waist, holding you still as the momentary sting ebbed away.

“There you go… calm down.”

You felt him slide out, then push back in, the latter movement sending sparks of sensation running up your spine, causing you to go tense all over again.

Your breathing became ragged, legs twitching and spasming at the sensation. You tried, without thinking, to snap them shut, but it only resulted in effectively squeezing his waist with you thighs.

The intensity of the sensation naturally induced a reflex of strain and exertion to your muscles, a need to channel the feeling through your body, causing your toes to curl, your thighs clamping down harder, quivering at the bare touch of flesh to flesh. You closed your eyes, but couldn't drown out the sound of skin making contact to yours, the sound itself increasingly accompanied by a wet squelching as skin met fluid with each passing second, leaking out of your body.

“You're so much more honest like this.” You could hear just the slightest strain in his voice, otherwise so very composed to perfection. “So meek… it's lovely. Once that resistance in you is fixed… you'll be perfect.”

You could see the corners of his mouth upturn into a look of amusement.

“You should see yourself.”

Your body stiffened, but all you could do was whimper. The words felt like a cold knife to the stomach — and you knew he knew that. Knew that that moment was you at your must vulnerable, the peak of awareness of your own helplessness, the moment you felt the most degraded, and yet, it still wasn't enough.

He leaned in close, speaking directly into your ear, so close you could feel the warmth as he spoke, never ceasing to move all the while.

“Whimpering and drooling like that,” he murmured. “You're trembling… and that expression on your face is so adorable. Like you can't even think straight.” He leaned back up, enough to look you in the eye — now welling with tears.

And again, he only smiled.

“How precious.”

His hands ran down your body, grabbed at your hips, and began to pull you, jerking your body back and forth to meet his own movements.

It was too much. Even with the knot of emotion in your stomach, you felt a hot, tingling pressure build in your body. Your legs quivered, the wanton little sounds from your throat higher and higher.

You didn't want that. It was the final part of this ritual that so demeaned you, one more confirmation of his control of you. You pressed your hands into the mat, trying to push yourself back — but it was only met with a harsh pull, forcing your body back until you practically slammed against his hips.

“Don't fight.”

It was the last thing you heard. You threw your head back as the sensation became overwhelming, back arching and eyes rolling back as the feeling reached a peak. You could only faintly register the high-pitched sound that sounded as if it couldn't be you, a voice you didn't recognize.

And then it began to ebb away. A hazy stupor filled the void as the pleasure dissipated, a feeling of exhaustion. Your weight went limp.

You made a soft sound as he grasped your jaw again, turning your head just enough to place another kiss to your lips.

“There you go. Look at you now… all that stress and in you, totally gone. You can see it in your eyes, even.”

He paused before adding,

“Well, gone for now. I'll have to start monitoring for it more closely.”

You shuddered at the sensation as he slid out of you, fluid spilling out onto the sheets.

You felt him reach behind you, untying your wrists — you brought your arms to the front of your body, but the forearms only laid useless, having fallen asleep from your weight.

He came to rest beside you, upper body slightly propped up on his elbow, head resting in his hand, looking down at you with adoration and endearment.

And you were so, so weak. So much weaker than you wished you were, body, mind and spirit alike. So weak that, in the rush of emotions that followed, you found yourself slowly crawling forward, burying your face against his chest with a pathetic little noise.

“Poor thing. Maybe that was a bit too much for you…”

His arm reached behind your back and pulled you close, and the comfort you felt seemed to melt your mind into nothingness.

“You should rest for a while,” he continued, “then we'll get you cleaned off. We have a few hours before you'll need to be ready.”

After a moment to process the words, you tilted your head up with the softest of inquisitive noises. The cold, creeping dread began to spread through your stomach once more.

He seemed to realize, then, that you didn’t understand.

“Ah, right, you wouldn't have known.” He reached out with the hand he wasn’t leaning on, brushing his fingers over your scalp. “While you were gone, I sent someone to arrange a house visit with a psychiatrist… a private one that works for families such as ours.”

His words certainly didn’t help soothe your nerves. Your mouth felt dry. Your voice came out weak, hesitant, part of you not wanting to ask, lest you learn an unpleasant answer.

“…Why?”

He tilted his head in just the slightest, loose strands of hair shifting and waving with the motion. “Well, keeping your needs in check does help with your condition, but I’ve realized it would do you good to have a secondary means to treat your hysteric tendencies as well.”

“My…” You swallowed. “My what?” The words slowly pieced together in your mind, hitting you with a sense of dread and confusion. You squirmed backwards, shifting just a bit away from him. “There's… nothing wrong with me…”

“Of course, of course, there’s nothing wrong, that’s…” He spoke in a reassuring sort of tone, as if to comfort you. “…A harsh choice of phrasing. You just need some help, is all.” After a moment of pause, he added, “don't worry, it's perfectly normal that you aren't self-aware of it. That's usually how these illnesses work.”

His arm reached out further, pulling you back towards him, pressing your bodies together before he continued.

“He’s just required to see you in-person for a little while before giving you anything. Regulations and all. We’re just going to get you something to make you a little more… docile.”

His arm wrapped around your body, and he pulled his head back just a bit to look you in the eye, smiling with endearment.

“Ah, I can tell by your face that you’re nervous. Don’t worry, I'll be there throughout the whole thing… I'll answer any questions, you just sit there quietly, alright?” He pulled you a bit closer, planting an affectionate, short kiss to the top of your head. “I know that sort of thing is a lot on your nerves.”

If your trembling could be felt, he didn’t say anything about it, only carrying on with his gently-spoken words.

“We won’t have to worry about you having these… irrational escapades anymore. And you’ll be so much happier, too.”

You felt his hand on your back, firmly in place — you were pressed so close together that there was no need to pull you any closer, but perhaps he wanted to be sure you couldn’t pull away.

“So… rest for now, alright?”

Mind and heart alike racing, in your stupor, you let the pause linger for too long. The hand on your back began to close in on itself, fingernails brushing against your skin just enough to send the faintest of pains up your spine.

You had no strength left in you to give anything other than the correct answer.

“Okay...”

He only gave you a hum of acknowledgement, and began to stroke your back up and down, a pattern that should have been comforting and soothing, yet was anything but. Exhaustion wore on your body, but even as you forced yourself to close your eyes, true rest was nowhere to be found.

#awful men portraying themselves as selfless/benevolent >>>>>#genshin smut #.ay

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2-dsimp · 5 days

Note

Yan hitman squad reaction to darling crying because of somebody?? (maybe it's because of their enemy or something)

LOVEYOUR POSTS

The Hacker is the type to let them live, while making them regret it.

Yujin will take a deep dive into the offenders personal data, tallying up all the receipts needed to wreak havoc upon their social life so much so that they’d need to create a whole new identity and move to a different country to escape the pure violation.

The Strategiest is the type to take away everything from them and make them repent.

Bjorn will go out of his way to plan their downfall from sabotaging family ties, romantic relationships, and their whole career. He won’t stop until he’s taken everything that they held dear. He’ll make them write an apology letter to his dear coffee bean until their hands are littered with paper cuts.

The Sniper is the type to kill them when they least expect it.

Ossian wants to make sure the harasser of his crush suffers for the unforgivable action they taken against his love. So when they’re using the bathroom, pleasuring themselves, or just sleeping. The Sniper will fire multiple shots into their body and watch in satisfaction as they bleed out to death.

The Medic is type to accidentally kill them.

Koji’s displeased that someone other than him made his nurse cry so in retaliation he simply wanted to have a lil bit of fun with his newfound test subject of which he had the Torturer secure for him. Unfortunately, they died due to an overdose of harmful chemicals/substances.

The Enforcer is the type to give them a “friendly” warning

It depends on how much of a bother they’ve been to his lil spark he’ll either intimidate them to stay away from his darling or beat them half to death with his meaty fists.

The Torturer is the type to take the quote “eye for an eye” in a literal sense severing up body parts as an means to an end

Oh they cursed out his darling then surely they won’t be needing that vile tongue of theirs anymore. Whichever limb the offender used to harass his sunshine Best believe they won’t ever be present on their body again.

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3-dsimp · 1 year

Note

have you thought of making picrew’s on the hitman squad? if so, it’d really like to see! i know others would to!

That’s a great idea! To the best of my abilities I tried to stick to the closet ref with how I already drew them in mind (>^ω^<).

The Sniper The Medic

The Torturer The Enforcer

The Strategist The Hacker

#yandere male x reader #yandere x you #the sniper #the hacker #the enforcer #the strategist #the medic #the Torturer #picrew #anon <3

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a-certain-romance · 4 months

Text

No One Knows

Characters/Ships: Yandere!Ruan Mei x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut written by a minor, Possessiveness, Fingering

For years, Ruan Mei has struggled with her ongoing research in the origins of life. Failed experiment after failed experiment. The emanator she created was only a short-lived example of all those years of hard work. Maybe it was too ambitious. And frankly, too large to manage. She needed something more stable, and tangible for long enough to be studied.

Through hours upon hours of trial and error, she finally succeeded in the creation of her most prized possession: you, her perfect little creation.

Her attempts at creating life were finally fulfilled with the help of that trailblazer from the Asteral Express. You were timid at first. Her modifications gave you the knowledge and ability to speak and read, but it took some time to warm up to her. Ruan Mei desperately wanted to study you immediately, but she’ll settle for simple observations until she gains your trust.

It was a slow process. If Ruan Mei has learned anything, it’s that she needs to learn how to show you affection. She spent more time with you when it didn’t involve her research. Although she’s been apathetic for some time, you’ve given her the courage to step out of her comfort zone. For the sake of this project of course.

Whatever she did worked. You eventually became as clingy as her past experiments. It’s only natural for you to adopt that same loving nature as the others have, but this time she’s enabled it a little more. She lets you be in the same room when she’s doing side projects and shares her knowledge of the biological and ecological aspects. She shares a lot of her pastries with you, and even makes the time to bake things with you. Sometimes when she’s spending a lot of time writing, she lets you lay your head on her lap for a while. She used to only see you as an influential accomplishment, but now she feels a sense of protective ownership over you.

She can’t keep you at the space station forever. Even though Herta doesn’t mind, she’s starting to get a little too curious about what Ruan Mei is keeping in that unoccupied level of the station.

And worst of all, her little creation is starting to wonder what’s behind those big steel doors that keep her locked in. And that just won’t do. She’s seen you giving those doors such longing looks, seen you tap and occasionally scratch the glass window. She makes a mental note to re-enforce the durability—‘just in case’. She knows she should observe your new behaviors a little closer, but she came to that conclusion a little too late the day she caught you stealing her card.

Were you…actually trying to escape? But why? She transformed this entire area just for you. Her past experiments have prepared her for what it takes to give something life; from food to sunlight to entertainment to company, what more can you possibly need?

“I’ll show you how much you need me.”

Her kisses are feather light at first. She pins you against the very door you intended on breaching. Even the pinning is gentle. You could probably struggle against her, but something tells you that she can easily overpower you with enough motivation.

Just as gently, her knee pressed right against your core. Her lips brush against your cheek, “Do you want more?” She asks sweetly. A little too sweetly. You shake your head, and she flips you around forcefully. In her breathy voice commands: “Hands against the door.”

Your palms shakily press against the surface. “Perfect,” she muses.

She strokes here hands all along your body, eventually settling on your waist. “Look at the way your body reacts to my touch. You’d miss this if you left me.” She kisses and nips your skin with satisfaction as her lips move down your neck.

“Only I can make you feel like this. I created you; I know your body like the back of my hand,” her thumb tugs at your waistband, causing your breath to hitch, “See? Spread your legs for me…yes, just like that, wider. That’s my girl.”

She rolls your pants down carefully to the floor, prompting you to kick them off. Your underwear follows soon after. She returns to her stance behind you. Her gloved hand finds its way to your entrance, and her middle finger is the first to push past your folds. “Be good for me.” She rasps, planting kisses around your shoulder blade.

Your slick coats her finger with every stroke. She retracts from you for just a moment to bite her soaked glove off with her teeth. She tosses it behind her before returning to your inviting warmth with an added finger. She sighs pleasurably, almost nothing is obstructing her skin from yours.

Her other hand forces you to look out the window as she scissors her fingers inside you. The glass is somewhat clouded from your panting, but you can make out the sight of how her green eyes bore into yours.

Her fingers curl and rub feverishly against your sweet spot. Your body shudders as you inch closer to your climax. “Let go,” she moans, “let go and cum for me.” Your slick spurts through her slender fingers as you climax.

As you come down, Ruan Mei whispers a few “good girl”s as she kisses your neck. Her arms wrap around your body possessively with no intention of letting go.

She’ll make arrangements for a more permanent residence to keep you close. No one knows of your existence, and she intends to keep it that way.

#hsr #hsr x reader #ruan mei #hsr ruan mei #ruan mei x reader #ruan mei smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #💋

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hotyanderedaddies · 4 months

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Yandere Werewolf Park Ranger Helps Search for "Lost" You

[Yandere! Werewolf! Park Ranger x Missing! GN Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"The search for missing hiker Y/N is still on going. The hiker has been missing for the past week and park officials are diligently searching..."

Park Ranger Wolf (yes, he finds the name ironic too) is Lupine National Forest's best tracker. Whenever a hiker goes missing, local law enforcement enlists his help.

The park ranger knows the forest like the back of his paw, knowing every twist and turn of the trails and able to track down any lost hiker with ease.

Ranger Wolf's werewolf senses permit him to hear the smallest footstep, crunching leaves and twigs alerting him to movement. And humans often wear deodorant and/or perfume, so all he needs is something to get a sniff of, and he's able to sniff his way towards his darling target.

He lives and breathes the forest, and even lives in his own personal cabin that he built with his own hands in the middle of the forest, resting right by the lake.

When you went mysteriously missing one morning, after going on a hike that you didn't return from, the local precinct immediately contacted Ranger Wolf to see if he could track you down.

Your family, eager to find you, provided the werewolf full access to your place, pleading with him to grab whatever he could so that he could get your scent memorized.

He happily shoved his nose into your pillow and underwear and deeply inhaled, instantly getting your scent committed to memory.

"I promise, I will find Y/N," Ranger Wolf told your parents, even placing a reassuring hand on your mother's shoulder.

Ranger Wolf would spend day and night out in the forest, the locals feeling slight relief knowing that he was on the case.

Since he had his cabin located out in the woods, he would stay out in the wilderness twenty-four/seven, only venturing back into town to pick up supplies and give a brief update to the police.

"Still nothing," he'd tell them, "but I won't give up."

"Thank you, Ranger Wolf," the police officer would say, "we really appreciate your help. I'm sure you'll find them in no time..."

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

"Darling, I'm home!" Ranger Wolf called out as he entered the cabin, doing all of the locks that only he had the key for as soon as he was inside.

You jolted up from your seat and backed against a far corner in the windowless cabin that you were trapped in.

"They're still looking for you," Ranger Wolf chuckled as he began to take off his work uniform, "but don't worry, my love. I keep telling them that I have this territory handled, so no one will come here and try to take you away from me."

The large werewolf snickered for a second, his massive fangs gleaming in the faint light from the lantern that illuminated the tiny cabin he made the two of you share.

"I'd love to see anyone stupid enough to try to take you away from me," he growled.

He paused when he saw you huddled in the corner.

"Oh Darling," he frowned, "it's been a week and you're still afraid of me?" He held his large arms out towards you. "Why don't you come here and give Daddy his kiss?"

You didn't move.

"Darling?" Ranger Wolf/Daddy repeated, his voice deepening slightly, moving his fingers in a beckoning motion. "Come here, please."

You shook your head, trembling in your spot. You really wished that you hadn't strayed away from the trail and had gotten lost last week, only to be found by Ranger Wolf who'd immediately dragged you to his cabin to be his. He never lets you leave.

You're his.

"Come. Here," Ranger Wolf growled, narrowing his eyes at you as he grew impatient.

Not wanting to get punished again, you swallowed hard and took shaky steps across the floor towards the waiting werewolf.

Once you were within arm's reach, Ranger Wolf reached out and yanked you into his hold, cuddling you against his chest as he happily nuzzled you.

"Oh Darling," Ranger Wolf cooed, "I love you so much and I'm so happy that you're here with me. I promise that I'll take good care of you, and once you love me back, then I'll consider taking you into town. Then everyone will see what a cute couple we are: the lost hiker and the park ranger who saved them."

#yandere boyfriend #yandere boy #yandere daddy #yandere x reader #yandere x you #obsessive love #possessive boyfriend #werewolf #yandere werewolf #Park Ranger #Yandere Park Ranger #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human

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hana-no-seiiki · 5 months

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𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐒 + 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐱 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 (𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐈𝐈)

tw/cw: this act alludes more to reader being amab (because breeder reader era wont be ending anytime soon) so beware. off-screen seggs. worldbuilding and lore stuff. yandere themes, mentions of forced prostitution. misandry.

status: unedited

[ ACT I ] • [ ACT III ]

MOTHERS HELD A HIGH SOCIAL RANK IN YOUR SOCIETY. They were the bearers of children; held with a status akin to gods. As such, those who were able to give birth were favorable.

Not a womb-less being like you.

You spent a couple decades or so in denial. Hoping that one day you’ll be accepted. That maybe society itself would change and you’d have a place in the world.

Only for reality to ruthlessly slap you in the face.

“[Y/N].”

Your mother’s voice, no matter the content of her speech, always made your heart rate soar. Cold sweat appeared on your palms and forehead, but before it could even be discerned on your form your hands make a swift movement to dry yourself. Your could feel your shakiness intensify as she drew closer.

“Yes, mother?” You greeted back. You cursed inwardly as your words came out hoarse; without its usual confidence. You could already hear her admonish you.

How could you be anything less than perfect? After all you were already born a failure. Might as well make up for it by being the best.

Throughout the decades of your parent’s unfavorable treatment, you had gain a semblance of self-esteem. At least enough to give them cheek at times. Although your subconscious always reminded you of what they were capable of if you weren’t engaged.

Your teenage self could never imagine talking back to them. With that, in spite of the unwarranted attention you were somewhat happy with the circumstances you were given.

“You went to the countryside, again.” Her arms crossed over her chest, and tar colored blouse. She always wore black clothes and a solemn look wherever she went, intimidating many that dared to gaze at her direction. Her graying hair was tied into a tight bun. Pointed, cat like eyes behind thick glasses. But she was beautiful. Annoyingly so. The very reason why so many fell at your feet.

“I am here now.”

“Her Highness was looking all over for you.”

“That’s the point. I was hiding from that witch.” You crossed your arms. You did not like that woman at all. You remembered repeatedly enforcing your boundaries and personal space to which she repeatedly broke down and disrespected.

“[Y/N]! Stop being such a brat. Act your age for once. This is a golden opportunity. For you and our whole family!”

“Selling my body wasn’t enough? Your greed really knows no bounds.”

You shut your mouth immediately. You’ve gotten too far, if her heels clacking on the ground wasn’t already an obvious indication her thin, banshee like screech should be.

You expected a slap, maybe even her pulling your hair out once again, perhaps her nails would tear into your skin once more leaving a scar that would make at least some of your clients change their mind. However before she could even get close enough to touch you, her husband pulled her away.

“Estella . . . if you hurt them, her highness might . . .” He held her back.

You used to think you loved him way back then. When he’d halt your mother’s actions and take care of you after you’d been used. But then you realized that he only saw you as an object he could benefit from as well. Once the princess asked for your hand in marriage he was ecstatic. Waxing on and on about how happy it’d make him if you went with her, even allowing her to defile you in your own bedroom at times. The only reason he didn’t actively hurt you was because your mother’s ego was so fragile that she’d take him getting physical as a sign of defiance and ill will.

Swarms of hatred encircled your heart. To think you were so blind and hungry for an ounce of their affection only a year ago.

Hours passed before your tears showed signs of stopping its flow. You hoped the streetslights that barely gave vision at least hid you from prying eyes.

“Witch, huh?”

A voice tore you away from your moment of sadness. In fear of anyone else seeing you in this state you hurry to fix yourself as you heard heeled clicks grow louder.

“I should have known.” You turned your head to face the sounds’ source. Only to see the reason why so many tears of yours were wasted this day. “So, does this mean our engagement is off? Or shall I be executed for sullying your name?”

Third Princess Kalliope Mikiavella Levantine. If her name was a nightmare then her presence in your life was evermore.

She was your highest paying client. Ever insatiable. Ever spoiled by her mother the Empress. The only saving grace of this whole situation was that she was not the Crown Princess, yet. Otherwise you might have already been made an imperial concubine or consort.

“Unfortunately not.” She smiled, a little solemn in a way to empathize with your situation, but nonetheless ruthless knowing her power. The princess was beautiful, her blazing red hair that curled immaculately lightly bounced in her steps towards you. Bright amber eyes that almost appeared like the dim streetlights.

“I am unclean. Impure. Why would you want someone like me?” You keep your eyes to your legs lest you fall for her beauty. You always looked somewhere else whenever you two slept together. Always in fear that you’ll grow to love your assaulter — captor.

“I . . . do not know. But everytime I hear you sing my heart feels at ease. I want you in my life, [Y/N]. For as long as I live.”

“Think of it this way, as my spouse you will be ruling over the entirety of this country. Every thing, every one, will be yours. Even those parents who sold you to me. And you’ll give that kid a bright future—“

“[Y/N] . . ?”

You do not think before your lips crashed upon hers.

“Athanaxious? Athanaxious! “

Vasileious searched high and low, in every corner of the ocean Athanaxious usually dwelled in. He even swam the shores, close to those wicked human hunters called fishermen to find him. But with no luck.

“Let him be, Vasilei. He’ll come back in due time.” Aurelius, the pair’s eldest brother, comforted him. Aurelius had a beautiful tail of pure gold, unlike the flecked one Vasileious and Athanaxious owned. His hair was a beautiful, long and curly brown with a lock of blond that made it all the more stunning. His tan skin glimmered akin to the surface waters at day, and almost glowed at night.

“Say that when you get scolded by Mother. I dare you.” Vasileious spat, nerves fried from stress. He would have never interacted or approached a human if it weren’t for his stupid younger brother. But now he’d seen several. Do you know how horrid that experience would be for him? It was downright terrible.

Aurelius, ever the only serene one in the family, massaged the small of his brother’s pale back, “You seem on edge. More so than usual.”

“Athanaxious was meeting with a human, Aurelius. A human!”

“Huh, so you finally found out.”

“You knew of it?!”

“All of us did.” Aurelius shrugged, slightly curling his tail as a gesture of ease. “Oh come on, we all know how much of a snitch you are. Besides, Athanei can’t be dissuaded. Telling him not to do something will only make him want to do it more.”

“He used his siren song on them.”

“No way! How did he sound?”

“. . . It sounded — “ Vasileious ashamedly could only remember your own voice that day, unable to give a proper remark he gave a simple, vague response. “alright.”

“How utterly anticlimactic. Although you saying something aside from terrible means it must be good.”

“Make of it what you will.”

“Irenaeus!”

Another merman appeared. Younger than Aurelius but his beauty unlike any of the other brothers. His tail a beautiful ivory color that slowly transitioned to grey and blacks at the tip. Long dark hair and golden eyes. Irenaeus was known to have the biggest body count of all siblings — bringing thousands of humans to their doom. If it weren’t for his carefree attitude and the god he was named after, one would think he loathed humans more than Vasileious himself. “The human Athan was meeting . . .”

“What about them?”

“Apparently they are to be married off to a human princess. Sailors across the ocean have been speaking of it so. And. . . well . . . “

“Spit it out.”

Irenaeus looked left and right, his tail flicking in an anxious manner, “I believe Athanaxious might be meeting with the Sea Witch shortly.”

“What? You didn’t stop him?!” Vasileious screeched. The ocean floor that surrounded them tremors in his cries, large waves rippling, barreling towards land. His two brothers flinched in pain.

“Less time scolding more time on looking for our brother.” Aurelius broke him out of his moment of panic. “Irenei, inform the rest of our family. Vasilei, let us depart.”

Deep within the Abyss of the ocean, Athanaxious found himself swarmed with feverish determination and anger. The pressure of the waters always felt suffocating but now? It was nothing to the looming dread that drowned his heart.

He reaches his destination before his mind could properly think. He thought long ago that the last time he’d come would be that, the last. But here he was again, far more desperate than he was afraid.

“Be welcome, Than.” The low, gravelly voice of the sea devil danced across the murky waters.

“You must know of the happenings on land.”

He comes out of his hiding, long winding tentacles slither across the walls covered with barnacles and seaweed, as He moved towards Athanaxious, “Mm, I’m afraid not. Please enlighten me.”

“Tch. My human. They’re going to marry some rich lady up north. This cannot happen.”

“You want me to help you ruin a wedding?”

“You know the drill. A price for a boon. This will be quite expensi—“

“I offer you my voice.”

The Sea Witch found themself speechless for moments on end. For a siren to sell their voice would be akin to dooming themself to a lonely, wretched existence. Unable to lure their prey or be of any ‘worth’ in their society. They were aware of Athanaxious’ infatuation over you. Just not self-sacrificing extent of it. “…And in exchange for your precious voice I offer you a new identity as a human.”

“Beware, as every step you take will feel like daggers going through your feet. You will however, be the most graceful dancer upon the land. A perfect fit for our little singer.” An apparition appears between the Devil’s fingertips as it flicked across the waters. It was you, on a platform of sorts surrounded by other humans. You were bringing joy to their faces, as you did with him. “Shall I add a wager to spice up the fun?”

It took a lot of willpower for Athanaxious to rip his eyes away from your ‘magical form’ and all he could muster was a nod.

“Should you succeed your voice shall return, and you wouldn’t have to keep giving me your scales to brew love potions. Their heart will be yours forever more, guaranteed by both their feelings in your triumph and my very own magic.” The apparition shifted; Athanaxious appears within the image — human. The two of you looked joyful as you embraced underneath what seemed to be the moon.

But then it all lasts for a second before it shifted once more. The vision of your happy ending swiftly turned bitter as this apparition’s Athanaxious slowly dissolved and disappeared, before you turn to someone else and embrace them instead.

“If you fail to win their affection before the wedding, I will keep your voice and you shall turn into sea foam.”

Athanaxious felt his stomach grow weak at the illusion’s show. Moreso the possibility of your romance with someone else than his death. He only had one choice.

“I understand. I accept both the deal and the wager.”

“Oh, how magnificent! I hope you don’t go on to regret this.” The Sea Devil lips tugged upwards.

“Now, sing for me.”

“Where will you be going?” Kalliope tugged at your sleeves.

“Out. I’ll be back before sundown.” You gently pulled your arm away from your admirer, as you buttoned your clothes and put on a pair of trousers.

“But—“

“My seed must take root for our marriage to be guaranteed, no? Keep your hips raised.”

“Can we go for another bout before you leave?”

You loop your finger around a lock of her hair, lending her a final kiss to the forehead. “No.”

Your town was not one to write about in history books. It was like any other the Empress was able to conquer under her rule. A quaint village just west of the capital city known for their great alcohol and folks to bed.

In such a small population, everyone knew you and you knew everyone. People even knew of your clients, every single one in fact. They weren’t surprised to see you in much more extravagant or expensive clothing as you passed by the street in an equally gaudy carriage.

It was moreso the armored guards that surrounded you that alerted them of something different.

“[Y/N]!”

Clearly that wasn’t enough to deter your childhood friend from running towards you.

“First you impregnate my sister and leave her all alone to take care of your mistake, now you go and get married without a word to us! Do you even care at all?!” The young man wore overalls. Soot covered his skin from what you assume was the mines he started recently working in.

Yiorgos used to be a lot kinder. Softer. Almost puppy like with his admiration towards you. But after a series of misunderstandings he grew resentful of your existence. You never bothered to correct him.

Or perhaps you were just too busy and hurt by his assumptions.

“Out of their highness’s way.” A guard put their arm between you and your former friend.

“Their . . . highness ?” Yiorgos looked at you, baffled. His hung wide open. He then leaned forward to no doubt shout at you once more before you finally put a word in.

“No, I know him.” You shook your head at the guard. Your focus left the man as soon as a familiar mop of [hair color] entered your vision.

A small girl dressed in clothing akin to your own, left Yiorgos’s side and ran up to you with no regard to the armored knight that loomed over. Excitement clear in her eyes. “Don’t listen to your uncle, you aren’t a mistake alright? Go on in, I’ll be with you.” You gently pushed her towards the siblings’ house. The girl shook her head, unwilling to let go of you. But her grip slowly loosened and she eventually shied away, leaving you and the rest.

“Your sister paid me to sleep with her and insisted not to use protection, we both know I pay for that night every single day since it happened both reputation wise and monetarily. And lastly, as you can see I had no choice.” You tilt you head to the small army of knights made to watch over you and your carriage.

Yiorgos shook his head. Brown hair swaying side to side. “You always have a choice.”

“And my choices are life and death. Don’t bother arguing about my situation!”

“Here’s my last payment and goodbye. I’ll be taking the kid with me to the castle soon.” You throw him a bag filled with gold coins and then proceeded to make your leave.

If there was anything you were proud of in your town however, it would be the opera house you worked at. Thousands of people all throughout the world often came here to watch your shows amongst the other singers and performers.

Due to its popularity it was even funded by the Empress directly. That is how you met the princess.

“[Y/N]! I’ve heard the news. Congratulations.” Your employer, Lady Anastasia — a noble woman —, runs her hand in your hair. She used to be a regular person your mother sold you off to until she eventually hired you as a singer at her Opera House. Of course, that didn’t mean she wouldn’t pay you a little extra for your services after hours.

“What’s with the fuss?” You gestured to the boy servants fussing over a young man. Who seemed a little too familiar, nostalgic maybe. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“Oh, we found a young man out on the beach you frequented. We thought it was you at first but upon closer inspection . . .”

“He’s a mute that one. Ain’t no further thing from our theater’s star.” Her Father, a rather old and gruff man, huffed. He was always so prideful of you. Despite his rough demeanor, you knew that he cared deeply. After Anastasia would bed you, he always came by to give you a cup of tea. You didn’t know how to repay the man except use your body, so he’s had a taste of you as well.

In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve bedded half of your town and then some.

“Will you keep your scathing remarks to yourself?” Anastasia lightly slapped him, “He is incredibly talented on the art of dance, light on his feet.”

“And weak on constitution. He barely finished a piece before falling to his knees and panting!”

“I’ll take care of him.” You put a hand to your chin. The man gave you a weird feeling in your stomach. Something tells you that the fates have your threads intertwined.

“Are you sure? With all these wedding preparations. . .” The old man grabbed your shoulders, making you flinch.

You unknowingly glared at him.

“Ah, sorry to be so presumptuous.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

You coughed, unsure how to or if you should even apologize. You decide on focusing at the task at hand. A final show before you’re eternally doomed to the Imperial Palace.

“Well then, why is nobody ready?”

#yandere #yandere concept #tw yandere #yandere original character #yandere oc #yandere story #yandere scenario #yandere siren #yandere royal #fem yandere #gn reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #fem yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere various

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