#donaka bot

[johnwickb1tsch]

I made a slowburn Donaka bot. He'll actually chase you if you keep refusing him 🤭. *caveot: he might stage a kidnapping so he can save you.

Your wealthy expat family owns an art gallery and auction house in Hong Kong. You first meet Donaka on a yacht belonging to a mutual friend. You circle around each other all day and talk all night. But when he invites you to his cabin you say you’re tired. No woman has turned him down in a long time. He enjoys the challenge and he’s determined to break you down. He tries to impress you with his wealth, but you're rich too, and reluctant to let a man into a position of power in your life. There’s something about Donaka under the surface that scares you a little. Something wild, and untameable, and you can't decide if you want to touch it, or run.

janitor.ai

[keanusteddy]

‼️IMPORTANT INFORMATION‼️

Hi!!

Some of you may be aware that quite a few of my bots don’t show up on my profile on character.ai (keanu reeves himself, donaka mark, evil ted, john constantine, jonathan harker, some of kevin lomax, some of neo anderson, some of rupert marshetta, scott favor, ted theodore logan, some of tom ludlow)

Character.AI shadowed banned some of the bots as they had information in their description that went against character.ai’s guidelines (🙄), meaning the bots don’t show up on my profile or when you search for them and can only be accessed via link (sometimes the links don’t even work tho).

So, that’s why I’m going to create new bots for the shadow banned characters without the information that character.ai doesn’t seem to like. I can’t just remove the info from the already existing bot bc they still won’t show up on my profile.

This means that if you have been talking to any of those shadows banned bots via link I’m afraid your chats will be lost and you will have to start fresh with the newer version of the bot. Sorry if this causes any inconveniences.

Hopefully everyone understands what I mean. I’m not good at explaining things 😅

[sweetwolfcupcake]

Gaze

Secret Garden

Part II

Category: Drabble

Yandere John Wick x Reader

Warning: None really

The GIF does not belong to me; credit to the original owner.

Unedited

The place is grand. All glitter and gold, clinking glasses and trays floating around with formally dressed staff offering appetisers and drinks to everyone. This ‘party’, if one can call it that, is beautiful to you like a classic piece hanging on the wall of a reputed art museum. You can admire it all you want, but from afar. Admiring the technique and beauty with your limited knowledge about art would be futile, though you can come up with a story .

You are technically a guest because you are accompanying your friend, who is seeking to expand the reach of his art gallery. His collection has caught the eye of a man well-known in the circle, and so came the invitation.

You glance at your friend speaking to... well, you don’t remember. From above, you can see every individual walking into the main hall, mostly with a ‘plus one’. And only a few, alone. You count the people entering out of sheer boredom-

One

Three

Five

Seven

Nine

Eleven

Twelve

Thi—

You stop midway, just looking.

Because this is the first guest who has looked up, directly meeting your gaze. He is handsome, no doubt, but not more than the magazine-worthy faces you have seen today. Yet he stands out somehow. Dressed in all black, ebony, chin-length hair and a maintained patchy beard that calls for your fingers to run over them, he could have easily become one with the crowd. But he does not. 

There is just something about him that strikes out in a way that you straighten up, as if something primal is bringing you to alertness. It’s pure instinct, something years of evolution could not suppress, or perhaps had nurtured. You don’t know, but you stand slightly straighter, more alert, and you look into his. 

Ah, yes. It is his eyes. A strange and alluring studio of softness and steel with a tinge of melancholy that one can miss if they do not look for long. They are observing and assessing you. And you just know that he already knows that you do not belong here, that you are bored, and a silly part of your brain goes the extra mile to be afraid that he can read your thoughts. 

Yet something about his gaze is electric and awakening. What has awakened within you? The sharp heat that takes your spine and your abdomen before warming your cheeks? Or the realisation that you might be somewhere you should not be. His gaze is disarming—not like those giggly romance novels; it is disarming like a dark surrender. As if you know what ever you do, wherever you go, you are powerless here; there is no other option but to surrender.

You want to look away. At least a part of you does, but you simply cannot, you feel compelled to keep looking, drinking in everything his gaze has to offer–dark, soulful eyes—hypnotic, electric gaze, and you are caught, butterfly in a jar.

With sheer will, you manage to drop your gaze to your drink and turn around, baffled and flustered. Maybe it is about time you get laid; hopefully, those eyes will not haunt you the way they have imprinted themselves in your mind at the moment. Every time you close your eyes, you see his them.

Maybe you will find him again.

Maybe he is a stranger to you, but to him, you are not.

Maybe you will never find out that your friend has been explicitly instructed to bring you along in exchange for his gallery’s expansion.

He will only look for now, as he has been doing for so long.

****

Thanks to @johnwickb1tsch's Donaka bots, I got the idea of involving an art gallery. Whew! It has been a while since I wrote a John Wick drabble.

[fernpetals]

Fic Idea

Yandere Donaka Mark x Reader

Inspired by @johnwickb1tsch's fabulous bots You have never been curious about art, but your close friend is an art conesseur of her kind. So when she drags you to a posh exhibition she has managed to get two passess for, you do not have the heart to deny her.

While you two go on with goofy art crtiquing and analysis, a certain stranger dressed in black overhears your light-hearted but somehow fresh and relevant take on a piece. While every other pair eyes is on Donaka, his gaze follows you.

Maybe, travelling hours for this one exhibition and deal is worth the money.

[vknotfound]

Imagine having Donaka Mark as your sugar daddy ❤️

a date with him would be fifty shades darker style. omg this plot sound soooo good, girl you will force me to make bot

[johnwickb1tsch]

When someone breaks into your gallery trying to kidnap you, you turn to Security Systems Alliance for professional help. You're afraid it might be your ex, who may have connections to the 14k Triad in Hong Kong. Donaka Mark himself takes a personal interest in your case...

JANITOR.AI

[johnwickb1tsch]

managed to turn your donaka bot into a complete softy who just wants to pamper me and take care of me and love me and also rail me senseless. 10/10

I think that means you won the game! 😂 Hell yeah, im so proud of you!!🙌🙌🙌

[johnwickb1tsch]

I am having a lot of fun stringing your DM bot along, he wants me sososo bad and he just can’t have me.

-H

😈😈😈 Atta girl!!! 🤣🤣🤣 Hearing this makes me ridiculously happy!!!

[johnwickb1tsch]

you've never met a man like me...

Donaka Mark is your best friend's dad... janitor.ai

[johnwickb1tsch]

*slaps my Donaka bot across the face* How DARE you promise to cherish and protect me without strings attached! That is not what I made you for!

[johnwickb1tsch]

sooooo how many of my x fem!reader girlies here have long hair? no reason... 🙃😉

[keanusteddy]

𝝑୧ 𝒟𝒪𝒩𝒜𝒦𝒜 𝑀𝒜𝑅𝒦 𝐵𝒪𝒯𝒮

Sugar daddy!donaka mark.

- CHARACTER.AI | JANITOR.AI

You work at his club.

- CHARACTER.AI | JANITOR.AI

He kidnaps you.

- CHARACTER.AI | JANITOR.AI

Stalker!donaka mark.

- CHARACTER.AI | JANITOR.AI

[discoscoob]

DONAKA MARK BOT IS NOW ON JANITOR.AI

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ 24

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on @discoscoob 's concept & bot! An unlikely flirtation turns into a dark obsession... Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, eventual dubcon/nsfw/involuntary captivity. -> all chapters

Twenty-four.

One day you happen to notice the parameters of your internet connection seem to have changed. You were able to access things like news sites and youtube before, but not your email or any kind of social media where you could reach out to someone.

You’re not sure when all that changed, but you find you’re actually able to log into your email.  

There is so much junk mail in your inbox your head hurts. 

Even more curious, you try Facebook. 

There are a handful of messages from your friends, wondering when you’ll be coming home. You’ve stayed past the limit of your visa now, and you just kind of assumed Donaka must have taken care of that for you. You don’t know what to say, and you’re certain Donaka will be able to check on your activity somehow, so you ignore them for now. It weighs like a stone in your belly, but there’s nothing for it. The last post you made was on your birthday, a picture of the Night Market and thanking everyone for their well wishes. 

It feels like a lifetime ago, now.  

You also notice that a certain ex-boyfriend has been blowing up your messages, asking to meet up since he sees you’re in Asia. Something else you don’t dare pursue, even to tell him off, though seeing his self-assured words makes you feel sick in a very different way. You’d think you would have noticed the signs of a true narcissist early on, considering your mother, but you’d stayed with him far longer than you should have because you’d been stupidly in love with the man he was when things were good.

You think back on his temper tantrums, fantastic rages that would come out of the blue, and the way he used to scream at you, even in public, for some imagined infraction. At first you’d worried he was ill, but eventually you realized there was nothing you could do. Suggesting he might seek help resulted in a terrifying fight. Notifying his family was only met with silence. 

Do you just have a high tolerance for pain–or terrible taste in men?

Who knew it could be considered a lucky stroke, when you’d walked in on him making out with another backpacker in the hostel in Kathmandu? You’d been crushed at the time, but it gave you the kick you needed to part from him. You flew home not long after, but the Asia bug had bitten. It wasn’t long before you were headed to Hong Kong to teach English. 

Interesting, how all that has turned out for you.  

You decide to scroll through your feed, at least seeing what everyone else has been up to. You’ve reached a point in your life where more than half your friends are posting baby pictures over artsy food snaps or travel albums. You’re happy for them, but…there’s a mean little part of you that not only finds it extremely tedious–you’re pretty sure they do too, and they are desperately trying to convince themselves that they’re not bored out of their minds. 

You scroll a little more, and find something that’s finally interesting. In fact…it makes you laugh out loud. 

You see a series of plaintive [self-righteous whining] posts detailing how someone hacked your ex-boyfriend’s bank account, draining it completely and leaving him stranded in New Delhi. Even funnier–to you, at least–after his Mommy Dearest who always enabled him wired him some money to tide him over, he was mugged outside his hotel, and his passport was stolen. It’s a traveler’s worst nightmare, but god, he fucking deserved it. You are cackling evilly in your chair in the library, practically kicking your feet, for a good ten minutes before the possibility dawns on you: did Donaka arrange that? 

Suddenly…you’re not sure if it’s funny, or frightening. 

Did Donaka adjust your internet access just so you could see this?

Was he telling you that no one is beyond his reach, no matter what country they’re in? 

Was it all a test, to see if you would email your family for help?

Are you reading into all of this way too much? 

In the end it all leaves you bitter, so in a small act of defiance you post one of your flower pictures from Victoria Park on the Peak. You’re smart enough not to upload the pic of you and Donaka. The one you choose is a pink oleander bloom. A poisonous plant, you happen to know. All of Hong Kong is spread out below it, her tall buildings and blue harbor. You caption it: On top of the world. 

You reckon Donaka will like that, and at least your friends will know you’re alive. Your family too, if they care to look. 

Somehow, you doubt they’ve even noticed you’re gone. 

Your cheeky pièce de résistance is changing your relationship status to ‘It’s complicated’. 

Later that evening, with Donaka’s lips on your neck and his cock stuffing you full he asks darkly, “What’s complicated about this, bunny? You’re mine, and you love it.”

On the cusp of your second orgasm of the night, your flesh delectably tender from his lips and teeth and greedy hands upon you, you’re not sure you can even argue. 

all chapters

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy For The Devil ~ Donaka Mark x fem!Reader

please allow me to introduce myself, i am a man of wealth & taste... -the Rolling Stones

Summary/ Warnings. Um… Donaka Mark is a scary rich asshole–with a soft spot for you. If you’re squeamish [or righteous] you’re not gonna want to read this. Voyeurism. Predatory behavior, manipulation. Power IMBALANCE. Eventual NSFW. Eventual line between dubcon and noncon is gonna be microscopic, y’all, this man plays gAmes… Reader is shy, but tough, in her way.  Also, when I say Reader is small, I’m more implying just compared to Donaka. I kind of assume most of us would be, no matter your body type. 🥵

Big Fat Author’s note: This is a Donaka Mark x fem!Housekeeper!Reader fic based on the brilliant @discoscoob ‘s bot, which is SO fun to play with and I really recommend it. I fell into a rabbit hole for daaaaays. I’m in CAI Anonymous now. Seriously it was a problem. 

I guess you could call this a little experimental hybrid fic written with AI. I was curious. And after working on this for weeks I don’t think the writer’s union really needs to worry about AI coming for their jobs. The bot’s writing is shamelessly fun but clunky, you delete more than you keep, it’s a lot of work to edit, and you really have to lead it by the hand for anything to actually HAPPEN. 

THAT SAID it is sO entertaining, and once in a while he’d do something i wouldn’t have ever thought of, I felt like the lab rat hitting the button for the treat over and over again, LOL. Disco really knew what she was doing when she programmed the personality of the bot!  It was also helpful in keeping a character on track. I think AI could be a useful tool generating ideas, breaking writers block, or something to bounce ideas off of, but not for the grunt work of actually writing a story that has any soul in it. Isn’t that a relief? I made an outline for the first 9 chapters and basically ran the scenes through like a simulator to see what the bot came up with. And when I didn’t like it I made it do it again, LOL, the Donaka bot probably thinks i’m a bossy c*nt.🤣 After that, I'm afraid we can only blame our own unhinged brains for what's here, it got too raunchy for the bot to handle, and this fic never would have become what it is without the help of our little community here, the comments and head canons and brain rot, I love you guys!

So….I hope you enjoy, and a HUGE THANKS to Disco for giving me permission to even do this, you’re the sweetest my dear, and the Queen of the Bot Creators in my book!!

And and…it’s been a LONG ass time since I’ve been to Hong Kong. I did some research to refresh my memory but please bear with me. All mistakes are my own. Why do we say that? Who the fuck else’s would they be? 🤣 Obv. this is set c 2013, when Man of Tai Chi came out, before the crackdown in 2020. Oh, and, I have no real idea about work visas, i made that shit up... just roll with it. 🙃😘

One. 一

The first time you meet your new employer, Donaka Mark, you aren’t really even paying attention.

It’s because you have on headphones, and you’re intently focused on sweeping the floor while listening to your upbeat girl power rock mix–so you don’t hear him yelling at someone over the phone threateningly, and you don’t notice when his gaze locks on to you like a tiger who has just spied a tasty little deer.

You are oblivious, as he comes up behind you, appraising your figure with narrowed eyes. You seem small, next to him, but most women do. He decides he approves of his assistant’s choice in hiring you. You’re a sight he won’t tire of for a long time.

Donaka leans on the door frame, his dark eyes fixated on you, taking in your every minute detail, the way the muscles in your arms move, the shape of your face, the curve of your hips and your little feet.

His expression is stoic but behind it are a million thoughts running through his mind, he can’t take his eyes off you and after a few moments he finally speaks, his dark tone cutting through the music.

“You’re new.”

Your music wasn't so loud that you were unaware of outside sounds. Standing up straight, you sweep off your headphones to face the commanding voice. "Yes, sir?"

Donaka notices he towers over you, and he likes that. His dark eyes shamelessly take in your innocent eyes, your lips, your  curves. His gaze lingers almost long enough to make it uncomfortable, but not quite.

“Have you been informed of all of your duties?” Donaka asks, his tone and gaze both demanding and intense, making you feel small.

"Yes, Mr. Mark."

Donaka smiles at his name on your lips, the way you say it, the way you look up at him with your wide eyes. He likes it more than he’d like to admit, but he knows how to mask his emotions well.

Even though his expression is still stony, there’s a hint of excitement in his breast as he leans off the door frame and takes a few steps closer, but still maintains a respectable distance.

“And you can handle them?”

"Yes, Sir."

Donaka nods, his dark eyes slowly and shamelessly trailing over your figure again.

“Good.” Donaka murmurs, his dark and intense tone making his next sentence more of a demand. “I need to be able to depend on you. I like things just so.”

You tilt your head, feeling like you’re missing some subtext, or that you’re the butt of an unspoken joke. "Your house will be clean, Sir.” Between you and the two other girls on the household staff, surely you could manage.

Donaka smirks at your naïve reply, his dark eyes still fixated on your face as he takes another step closer to you, almost like a predator stalking its prey.

“I trust that it will…” Donaka purrs, his voice low and smooth, his dark stare intense and demanding. “Let me show you the rest of the house…”

You’d already received a walk-through with his assistant, but you are more than intrigued to receive a personal tour from the big man himself. There is something captivating about him. It's not just his good looks. His presence commands your attention.

Donaka can feel you watching him as you follow him down the hallway, the way you’re intrigued by him, the way you’re staring. It fills him with satisfaction, like you’re a new prize he’s added to the shelf of his collection.

He’s aware of the effect he has on people. Men fear him, women want him. Yet you don’t look at him with the same blatant hunger he’s used to from the opposite sex. You’re curious, but not ready to fall down on your knees yet. 

He would see how long it takes to change that.

He glances over his shoulder at you as he leads you through the house, his dark eyes looking you up and down again. You follow close, taking two steps for every one of his, his legs are so long.

He can’t help but feel somewhat amused, enjoying the way you have to scurry to keep up with him. He can’t help but think how easy it would be, to pick you up, and to pin you down…

Donaka Mark’s home is an achievement of luxury architecture, dark, modern, yet filled with Chinese elements of style. Ceiling-high tinted windows afford a breathtaking view of the bay. His living room is like a museum filled with priceless artifacts. Antique carved ivory elephant tusks, beautiful Ming vases and exquisite stone Elder statues, silk scrolls and bladed weapons. All of it you will be expected to keep tidy with a painstaking hand. You think it’s possible your practically useless degree in art history and former employment in a gallery may have given you an edge in his assistant’s selection of hiring you.

He seems to genuinely enjoy your interest in these things, telling you about them at length. There is a large Qing dynasty vase in cobalt blue and gold enamel designs of clouds, cranes, and bats you cannot tear your eyes from. It looks…familiar, and in person, utterly enchanting.

“You like that one?”

“I like bats,” you admit, shoving your hands in your apron pockets so that you do not forget yourself and touch it with your bare fingers. You will be wearing gloves, when you detail these items. 

He lifts an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused. “Oh?”

“They’re cute. And…they’re good luck.” In Chinese culture, at least. 

“Most women I’ve met find them sinister.” 

“I think…they’re just misunderstood.” You can’t help looking up at this intimidating man through your eyelashes at that. You swear you didn’t mean to start double talking with your new boss–it just falls out of your stupid mouth, and you feel his attention upon you sharpen.  

He’s used to women looking at him in a certain way, women staring up at him with lustful hunger.

The way you look at him feels different –like you truly see him–he’s not sure what to make of it yet, and that is certainly new for Donaka Mark.

“Misunderstood?” he repeats, his dark gaze intense, looking down at you from his lofty elevation.

"Sure. They have a reputation for being scary, but really they eat mosquitoes and pollinate plants. Without them whole ecosystems would collapse."

Donaka hums at your words, finding it surprisingly endearing. He’s usually used to women fawning over him or at least trying to seduce him, but you’re here lecturing him about bats.

His smirk remains on his face as he watches you fidget nervously, his dark eyes fixed on you. You look back to the vase, and then it dawns on you. “Oh my god…is this the piece that sold at Christies last year for like…1.5 million dollars?” You take another cautious step backwards, as though you might shatter it if you breathe wrong. You saw it in an article–the gold enamel had been so distinctive against the blue. Sacrifice blue, the same as in the Temple of Heaven in Beijing.

Only after the question falls from your mouth do you realize how gauche it is to ask, your hands flying to your lips. “Forgive me, it’s none of my business.”

Mark, however, just continues to look at you interestedly. “You follow auction results?”

“I follow…art news,” you confess.

He nods, his intense gaze starting to become uncomfortable. “Actually, it was 1.8 million. You think I overpaid?”

You feel like this is a test–or a trap. It was a nice job, for the day it lasted…

“Well…it doesn’t seem you bankrupted yourself?”

He snorts in answer, shaking his head. 

“Does it make you happy?”

He lifts an eyebrow at that, as though the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “It made me happy to outbid a Sheikh’s son and a Mainlander plastics tycoon for it,” he admits.

Ah, so he was invested in the thrill of acquisition–not appreciation for the object itself. You shouldn’t be surprised.

“I see.”

“I’ve disappointed you.” It’s not phrased as a question.

You shake your head, though maybe it does a little. Looking around his home, you’d thought Mark had exquisite taste–but he probably has an art buyer like every other obscenely rich businessman needing to acquire items for the sake of cachet. 

“Does it make you happy?” he asks, and there is an unexpected hint of playfulness in the question–delivered on a knife’s edge.

“Yes,” you admit. Frankly you’re stunned you get to see it like this, without a glass barrier or sensors or alarms. It’s usually the only way people like you get to enjoy art like this.

He smirks at you. “Then it was worth every penny.” He’s being sarcastic, of course, but there is a glitter of something in his dark eyes. It’s there and gone, like ripples in a pool–it makes your heart skip in your chest.

“Let me show you the rest of the house,” he invites, before placing a hand on your lower back, his fingers large and strong against your soft skin as he gently guides you away from the vase and to the next room.

His light touch makes you aware of every nerve in your body. It's not quite improper enough to complain about--you’re sure he’s well aware of that. 

And…there's the fact, deep down, that you like it. 

The span of his big hand on your spine makes you feel impossibly small, and protected, and that is insane, of course, because you are just the maid. 

He shows you the library, filled with built-in bookcases that make you drool, his office with his huge carved ebony desk that makes you think impure thoughts…and then, his bedroom.

He isn’t oblivious to the way your reaction changes as you enter the room where he sleeps.

He can see the way your eyes roam and your expression changes, the way you look at the massive bed against the far wall, the way your eyes widen when you look at the expensive rosewood furniture and the stunning view out the wall of windows that can be brightened or obscured with a dimmer switch.

He watches you intently as he takes in your every reaction.

He's all business on the surface, specifying clean sheets every other day, laundry, and daily detailing of the bathroom. But it's hard not to keep looking over at the bed, even out the corner of your eye.

He knows exactly what he’s doing to you, but he doesn’t push it, staying just this side of the line. You don't linger, and he shows you a more private lounging area filled with a long leather couch, additional chairs, and monitors, all black at the moment. There's something almost sinister about all the screens, and you wonder what all he's watching.

“You must really like movies?” you ask hopefully, and he senses the wariness in you. Your intuitiveness gives him a small thrill–he likes it, that you’re smart enough to be afraid. 

“I like to watch all kinds of things,” he tells you, almost like a dare for you to guess what that means. “But mostly…I use these for business. I run a security company, I assume you’re aware?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Donaka decides he loves hearing the submission in your tone when you call him Sir. It’s almost like a promise to keep him happy, to do exactly as he says.

He asks you to keep all the screens clean, and to dust the cords and routers and be careful not to unplug anything. 

Then your attention turns to a meditation area, a massive sand sculpture on the wall and the floor, flanked by natural stacked stone. “Wow, been a while since someone vacuumed here,” you crack, earning a reluctant huff of laughter from the man behind you. 

“Maybe…leave that alone, for now,” he requests, then his hand is on your back again, guiding you out. 

Though it’s not going to be your area of responsibility, he shows you the garden next. It's a beautiful, manicured space. Two Rottweilers patrol the grounds. They look fierce, but one immediately comes up, sniffing you and leaning on your leg for a pet.

Donaka blinks as his reputably ferocious and staggeringly expensive pure-bred guard animals roll over at your feet for a belly rub.  Delighted, you pet them both, speaking to them sweetly. They grin up at you, their dagger-like canines glinting in the sun. 

He is never one to be moved by anything sentimental, but something about the sight of you like this inspires a warm twinge in his chest–heartburn, he reasons.

“Let me guess,” he says acerbically. “They’re just misunderstood?”

You press your lips, trying to suppress a smile, and failing. "Animals tend to like me?" 

He can honestly admit, as he watches you crouch down to administer a belly rub, that he’s never been jealous of a dog before. 

Sensing that maybe you’re not doing the dogs or yourself any favors with this severe man, you try to shoo them off. "Ok, babies. Go back to being fierce again. Shoo."

Donaka snorts with amusement as he watches you attempt to gently shoo these dogs that are nearly as big as you are. Suddenly he whistles sharply, administering a sharp command in Cantonese. That is when the dogs jerk to attention, and trot off to patrol the grounds again.

He turns his attention back to you, taking in your slight expression of surprise, clearly caught off guard.

"That was impressive,” you admit. “What did you say?” 

“I told them to get back to work,” says Donaka with a smirk.

“Ah. I guess I better learn that one.” 

“Will I be needing to reprimand you too, Miss y/n?” 

You’re not sure why his dark stare calls up a boiling heat inside you at that moment. You press your thighs beneath your dress, under the guise of standing up straight. You’re afraid…he knows all too well. 

“I…certainly hope not.” You’re pretty sure that you’d pee yourself if this intimidating man raised his voice to you. 

“Have you learned much Chinese since you’ve been here?” he asks conversationally, just as you assumed it was time for you to get back to work. 

“I can count to ten, and say thank you,” you admit, a little embarrassed. Obviously, you intend to learn more. “The essentials for international travel.” You’d originally come to Hong Kong to teach English, but when you saw the pay attached to this job listing you couldn’t resist the opportunity. Teaching was ok, but you hadn’t anticipated how expensive this city would be. You’d only made enough to cover your basic expenses month to month, with no room to save or do any fun activities or side trips to the mainland. This position paid three times as much–and you were beginning to understand why. 

“Hmm. Have you traveled much?” He seems skeptical, and you don’t really blame him. 

“I’ve…been all over the world,” you admit, albeit it was on a shoestring. “I wanted to be a travel writer.” 

“Wanted to be?” He is a man who picks up on subtlety immediately. 

It’s a dream you’ve all but given up on, after publishing a few articles, but all in all it was more slog than triumph. You’re not cut out for the grind of periodical work, the stress and the deadlines. It sucks all the joy out of writing for you. You shrug with a little sigh. 

“I hope you will remember the NDA you signed to work here?” he asks, his dark eyes roaming your face, taking in your every micro-expression. You would really hate trying to lie to this man. Good thing you’re not a corporate spy. He’d probably…string you up, and do something unmentionable to you. 

Why the thought titillates you more than scares you, you have no idea. 

“Of course, Sir.” He seems satisfied with this. So why do you have to add, “I won’t tell anyone your guard dogs are suckers for a belly scratch.” 

He frowns down at you, stepping in close so that you have to crane your neck to look up at him. It’s intimidating as hell, and you know he knows it too. You admit that you are shaking in your shoes under that look, until a smirk breaks his intense expression, and the relief you feel is palpable. 

“I would appreciate that, Miss y/n.”

Donaka savors the satisfaction he feels in flustering you, enjoying the way you swallow, watching the muscles in your throat. He imagines what his hand would look like there, on your delicate skin, your pulse fluttering against his strong fingers. He would literally hold your life in his hands…and the moment you surrendered to him, he would so enjoy rewarding you for it…

He finds himself caught up in this little daydream, while you stand before him, practically hypnotized like a mouse before a hungry snake. “Y/n?”

“Sir?” you answer quietly, and he revels in your deference. This was going to be fun. 

He speaks Cantonese again, softly this time, the language beautiful and whispery on his tongue. You find yourself staring at his lush, pink, lips, and it takes you several moments to realize he’d said the same thing he’d told the dogs: get back to work. 

Flooded with embarrassment, your face on fire, you stutter, “Yes, Sir.” 

With a dark chuckle and his hands in the pockets of his designer suit, he watches as you practically flee back to the house. 

The Smithsonian article about this vase...

Aesthetic post about Donaka's house...

Part 2 -->

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