#yandere nct

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 14 - Yandere!Kitsune!Yuta + Bondage & Overstimulation

Anonymous Said: YUTAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! *clears throat* great, now that that's over hehehe could I please request something like kitsune ! Yuta and Bondage with some overstimulation. Could he be yandere too ??? Thank you!!!!! A/n: Yuta as a Kitsune is just so right, I feel like it fits him so well hehehe as soon as I saw this request I knew exactly how I was going to write it. I hope you enjoy!! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 1,060 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

“You look so pretty like this, Bunny.” A pleased hum sounds from the man above you. “All tied up with nowhere to go.”

A shudder caresses your spine, moaning lowly as another sharp thrust is made into you. You can barely keep your eyes open, whole body shaking as your walls clench rhythmically around his cock buried deep inside of you.

“Yuta-” His name is but a whine upon your lips, feeling the way his cock twitches in response.

“My Little Rabbit can take it.” He coos, rolling his hips teasingly into your weeping cunt. Mockingly, he tilts his head. “Come on, Bunny. One more. You can give me one more, can’t you?”

A whimper escapes you, every movement of his cock along your inner walls making your body twitch in some way. Each brush of his tip against such a sensitive spot deep inside of you has your breath hitching, clenching hard as the feeling threatens to overwhelm you again at any moment. Already, he’s made you come three time with his cock buried in your pussy, and that’s not counting everything he did to you before.

Honestly, you’re surprised you haven’t passed out yet from the pleasure of it all.

“My Girl can give me one more, right?” He leans in, nudging his nose tenderly against your own despite the condescending tone of his voice. “You’ll let me drown you in ecstasy, right, Love?”

You press your lips together, attempting to muffle the choked whine that wants to escape you as he slowly pulls out of you only to roll his hips back into your own. 

Yuta’s eyes are sharp, watching your every expression carefully, not wanting to miss a single reaction you give him. After all, he’s only been waiting to mate with you, to claim you as his own, for what felt like an eternity. Ever since he met you, he knew you were the only one for him, and given everything that you’ve both had to go through to get to this point, it may as well have been. Each time he’s with you like this feels like the first, and always he strives to outdo himself since the previous time he’s mated with you.

If he cannot give you what you deserve - his best - then he hasn’t accomplished anything. If you’re not shaking and screaming his name by the end of it all, then he’s nowhere near complete.

Another thrust, and your head starts thrashing back and forth over the pillows, babbling as his cock fills you so perfectly.

Your fingers twitch, desperately wishing you could wrap your arms around him and pull him in closer. All you want to do is feel his skin beneath your touch, maybe rake your nails down his back and mark him as your own like he always does to you. Only, the feeling of your soft restraints contrast the intensity of his gaze… Of his touch.

Yuta’s tails are completely out. Five dance languidly in the air above him, flicking happily as he observes the beautiful sight of you fucked out and trapped beneath him. The remaining four tails are delicately wrapped around each one of your extremities, holding you in place and making sure you cannot escape his touch.

Gently, the thumb he had resting over your clit begins circling over that swollen little nub once more.

Your whole body jerks, back arching as you keen into his touch.

“Come on, Bunny. One more…” He coos, circling over your clit faster as he begins to snap his hips into your own. “Just one more for me.”

A choked moan escapes you, words caught in your throat as the pressure within your stomach begins building quickly. The intensity of the various sensations over your body makes your head spin, unable to form words for the moment, let alone even think.

A tail wraps around your waist, pulling you in even closer.

“Let me see you fall apart for me again, My Little Rabbit.” He rasps out, fangs peeking from behind his lips. “You look so fucking beautiful when you come for me.”

Two more of his tails sneak between your bodies, the soft tips flicking gently against your pert nipples. Teasingly, they tweak the sensitive nubs, only adding to the intense feeling building in your gut. Each one of your senses feels like it’s in overdrive, and each touch brings you dangerously closer to the edge once more.

“Come on, Bunny. Come for me.” His free hand sneaks up your body, cupping your face as he presses his forehead against your own. “Let me hear you scream.”

With one final flick over your clit, you obey.

Your orgasm crashes into you suddenly, throat raw and voice hoarse as you scream his name. Your back arches from the bed, shaking violently as you keen into his touch. His tails tighten their hold around you, pulling you in closer as tears of pleasure line your eyes, breath stuttering as you choke on a sob.

A single tear begins to slip down your cheek.

The moment Yuta feels you squeezing around him so tightly, his hips stutter. A choked moan of your name escapes him, hot spurts of come flooding your cunt and leaking out of you with every erratic thrust he makes. The way he can feel your combined releases soaking his balls and his thighs makes his head spin.

A low, pleased growl fills the room, his thumb still circling gently over your clit.

“That’s it. Such a good girl for me.” He leans in, nipping lightly at your jawline. “I knew you had it in you, Bunny. So pretty with my cock buried in your tight little hole…”

Still, your body trembles beneath him, his ministrations continuing over your clit and your nipples. Each touch has you stuttering, chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath. Incoherent babbles and desperate whines escape you as he uses his other tails to gently trace over your curves. Even the faintest brush of his fur over your damp skin sends multiple shivers down your spine.

You crack your eyes open, whimpering at the intensity you can still see shining within his own dark gaze.

He rolls his hips sensually into yours, a wolfish grin stretching across his features.

“One more, Bunny. You can give me one more, can’t you?”

[neobomb]

give into things i (dont) want to [lee haechan]

bully! (yandere) stalker! Haechan x innocent! church girl!reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. Word Count: 1.2k Inspired by this drabble made by @neocentral Warnings: mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, stalking, forcing??, slut shaming, masterbation, choking & breathplay?, hair pulling, manhandling, MDNI, there will be smut in part 2 [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Summery: bully!Haechan is secretly in love with you and loves pulling your hair as it feeds into his perverted fantasies. btw, donghyuk is haechan's real name © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

Haechan is hopelessly in love with you, a secret he vowed to take to his grave. However, his misguided attempts to gain your attention had spiraled out of control. What began as innocent teasing morphed into malicious intent. He has gone too far now. There is no going back. Over the years, he subjected you to relentless bullying: mocking you with derogatory names, spreading false rumors, and cornering you against his locker to threaten you. For as long as he had known you, he couldn't recall a single moment when he had treated you kindly.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to..” he loves hearing you plead for forgiveness. Tears welled in your eyes as he pulled your long luscious hair, your eyes looking up at him with an innocence he couldn't ignore. 

“A slut like you should know when to keep their dirty mouth shut.” he says, looking down on you. You looked like a mess. A hot mess. You’re on the floor, tears running down your face as heavy breaths left your lungs after the assault. When he goes home, he would picture this exact image of you in his head while mercilessly stroking his dick. He would imagine ramming his dick into you while pulling your hair, forcing you to meet his gaze. It was the primary reason he enjoyed pulling your hair during confrontations.

Everyday, he would follow you home after school. It didn't appear unusual since his house was only a few blocks away from yours. You never thought much of it. Each time you entered the safety of your home, you assumed he would just keep going until he reached his own. But oh…how you were wrong. 

Haechan would always linger around you at a close proximity. Your bedroom is on the first floor, facing a large oak tree, his favorite hiding spot. Peeking through the leaves, he watches you through your bedroom window. You’re sitting on your bed, reading a book. You look so peaceful. So beautiful. Whenever your hair gets in the way, you tug the strands behind your ears, revealing more of your neckline each time. Occasionally, he would take photographs of you as you undress, showing it to his friends as "evidence" of your supposed slutty behavior, but primarily keeping them for his own twisted satisfaction later on.

Haechan knows better than everyone that you’re anything but a slut. He doesn't even think that you have had your first kiss yet. Over the past year, he's spread rumors about you sleeping with countless older men, intending to dissuade other boys from showing interest in you. In truth, you're a devout church-goer with a deep love for immersing yourself in books and fiction. But still, he loves calling you a slut. The humiliation that marks your face each time he calls you those names does wonders to him. 

—

An intense heatwave has gripped the town. The scorching sun felt like it was searing your skin as you used a book to fan yourself. This summer break, aside from working at your cousin Kun's restaurant, you hadn't accomplished much. During your shifts, Haechan would consistently appear, each time accompanied by a different girl. What a manwhore, you thought to yourself. 

“If you feel as though he is bothering you, I can take his table. Just slice the salmon for me and keep an eye on the fryer.” Jaehyun offers, extending his knife to you. As your fingers lightly touch, a swarm of butterflies stirs in your stomach. You've harbored feelings for Jaehyun for some time. He's tall, amiable, strikingly handsome, and an exceptional chef. He embodied everything you desired in a boyfriend. Though only a few years older, he appeared to have everything figured out. 

From a distance, Haechan observed your exchanges with Jaehyun. Not paying any attention to the girl he was on a date with. He took note of your hearty laughter at Jaehyun's jokes and the way your face flushed crimson with every compliment he paid you. Saying Haechan was jealous would be a severe understatement; he was profoundly possessive over you. 

—

The community you live in organized a grand gathering, and by chance, your parents had offered to host the entire event in your backyard. Such events were never to your liking as you would panic at the social interactions. Worst of all, lee donghyuk was present at the event. You seek refuge in your room, after hours on end, having to endure awkward conversations. 

“Why did you cut your hair, Y/N?” Haechan stands in front of your bedroom door. He stared at you intensely, noticing how your hair falls right at your shoulder, revealing your pronounced collarbones. He suspected you might have cut your hair based on the conversation he had overheard between you and Jaehyun a few days ago, where Jaehyun expressed his preference for girls with shoulder length hair. It seemed evident to him that you were attempting to align with Jaehyun's preferences, which angered him greatly. “Yes, why do you care?” 

“Is it because you can’t just grab onto it as easily anymore?” The words you just uttered struck him with the realization that you might have uncovered his dirty little secret. He restrained himself from showing any emotion. Keep it cool. Keep it cool. You’re probably just being paranoid, he tells himself “Huh, What a big mouth. Why would you say that?”

“You obviously have something against me. I mean, every day at school, you pull my hair and shove me against your locker," you state, setting your book on the surface of your nightstand. He steps into your room, wearing a deeply unsettling grin, and closes the door behind him.

"Why do you think you can just come into my room, DongHyuck?" You ask sharply, rising swiftly from your bed. You urgently sought an escape from the situation, but Haechan's imposing stature blocked your exit.

“You’re not going anywhere, Y/N.” He gets a rough grip around your neck, pushing you into your bookshelf. Once again, he noticed the familiar panic in your eyes, a sight he disturbingly loves.

“You think I won’t be able to man-handle you just because you cut your hair short. Well, think again.” His grip around your neck gets tighter and tighter. You were no longer registering his words. His words became a distant echo as your mind retreated to a different realm. He has never grabbed onto your neck before. It was certainly a new sight for him, a sight he was going crazy for. The way your hands grab onto his wrist, desperately trying to ease his grip, and the way your eyes almost fall shut by the intensity of the situation. It all turned him on so much. 

He gradually loosened his hold on your neck, observing as you gasped for air and color that returned to your face. As you caught your breath, Haechan abruptly pressed his lips against yours. The fervor of the kiss was overwhelming. He bit down on your lips with force, leaving a faint metallic taste behind. His patience has ultimately run out.

[neonacity]

Limerence | Haechan x Reader (A Lucid Special Chapter)

Limerence (n) - a feeling of all-consuming longing or desire for someone.

Summary: After years of longing, can strangers find it upon each other to forgive and remember again?

Warnings: Note: This story will NOT make sense if you have not read Lucid. Haechan is aged-up and in his early thirties. There are mentions of torture, abuse, and kidnapping. Haechan and the rest used to be really toxic.

Disclaimer: This story is pure fiction. I do not claim any likenesses between the characters here and their real-life counterparts. I reserve all rights to this work and I post nowhere else but Tumblr.

Read here for: LUCID SERIES | JENO’s VERSION | JAEMIN’s VERSION | RENJUN's VERSION

And with this, the story finally comes to a close.

"TO BE LOVED IS TO BE REMEMBERED."

“This room has more smog than a city center. How many packets have you smoked?”

A sigh from somewhere made Mark blindly turn towards the only lit part of the space. Peeking in between wisps of heavy scented smoke, a bronze plate with several burning sticks stood against the light of a yellow lamp. The apparatus was resting on a handsome oak table, puttering away silently to screen the figure of a dark-haired man sitting beyond it. Mark smiled wryly to himself before taking deeper steps inside the room. 

“It’s called incense, my uncultured big brother. It’s supposed to make you feel relaxed and inspired,” came the low but lazy drawl of someone. Mark stopped just a foot away from the desk, his hands buried in his pockets.

“Let me guess, Renjun gave them?”

The other shrugged before slightly frowning at the paper in front of him. It’s obvious that he is not much up for a conversation right now, but Mark didn’t fly 15 hours to Seoul just to be snubbed by his little brother. Slowly, his eyes dropped on the pages laid out on the table, noting the scribbles and crossed-out words there. 

“Let me make another guess. The smoke isn’t really cutting it for the ‘inspiration’ part?”

At that, brown eyes snapped up to glare at him, hidden behind the slight reflection of black-rimmed glasses. The next second, he had a balled piece of paper thrown straight at his face, one he easily caught with a light laugh. 

“Did you just come here to be stabbed by me?”

“Well that’s better than being ignored by you after a long flight. Jisung asked me to make sure to check on you before I go to South East Asia. He said you haven’t been answering any of their calls.” 

The other scoffed. “Since when have we been on daily calling terms?” 

“And since when have you been so against it? Or is the great best-selling author Lee Donghyuck too popular for his brothers now?”

Another piercing glare, then followed by a roll of the eyes. Mark laughed again, noting how the shoulders of the other just ever so slightly softened.

“Well… how are you, Haechan?”

*******

Haechan placed the steaming pot of tea on the table without even bothering to pour one for his guest. To be honest, a visit from Mark was something that he wasn’t expecting tonight, and he would have for sure bolted if not for nosy Jisung making sure he didn’t have any idea about it until the last minute. Now he is cornered and has to deal with something worse than a creative block—a brotherly talk. 

“How’s the book going?”

He waved a hand towards the littered surface of his table before taking a sip of his once scalding coffee.

“It’s going swimmingly, as you can clearly see.”

In his peripheral vision, he saw Mark’s lips slightly tighten into a line. It was an expression he knew far too well, especially with him in the context. With an internal groan, he took another drink from his cup in an effort to hide his wince. 

“I don’t think being back in this place is helping you at all. This manor, of all places… I still don’t understand why you think being here will help you finish your book.”

“Would you rather have me camp out in Rosewood then? Because I would have. If only it hadn’t been burned down.” 

Great. The words were out before he could even realize what he was saying. With a frustrated sigh, he finally looked up to see his older brother with a stoic expression, one that only clouds his usually accommodating features every time their past was mentioned. Haechan looked away guiltily, but kept his silence. 

Ten years. A long time, but a short one all the same. Even now, mentions of their old home still feel like a strike of burning metal against their insides, a proof that sometimes, your ghosts can still catch up with you at the mere mention of a word or a slip of memory. He could see it on his brother’s face now, and there is no doubt the other sees the same on him. They were older now, but under the dim lighting of the room, they looked like the same boys who ran away from the nightmare that shaped up their younger years.

So much has changed… and yet so much has remained the same. 

Mark moved on to be the official heir of the Rosewood wealth, working hard to bring back public trust on their family after they were officially cleared of suspicions of kidnapping. He rarely visited Seoul, opting to jump from one country to another to make sure their ‘businesses’ run smoothly. 

Renjun moved to Paris to start an orphanage, which also doubled as a school for children who were abused or shunned by their family. It’s where he also continued his career in art, though he opted to keep his works anonymous and mostly hidden away from the public eye. 

Jaemin is a father now to a daughter—a chatty adorable girl that he met on a visit to Renjun’s school. Both relocated to London where he had built a career as a photographer under a different name and identity.

Jeno… None of them really knows where Jeno is, only getting letters from him every now and then from different addresses. He makes sure never to miss their birthdays though, sometimes even sending some trinkets that could only give the slightest hints of where he could be living his quiet life.

Jisung and Chenle both decided to settle in China, the latter having had the need to trace down his real family before he was taken to Korea. He found nothing but a sister who accepted him back to the fold and he had been in close relations with ever since. Finally, there's their youngest Jisung who also found family there but in a different way, now a happily married man—and a father soon.

As for him? Oh he had moved on too for sure, if you could call being an author hiding under a pseudonym that, at least.

Haechan tried his best. He really did. On his good days, he would wake up and feel like the wounds have finally closed and turned to scars. Writing helped him cope for the most part, because it was a way for him to escape reality and repent for things he could never grovel for in the flesh. It kept him sane. Grounded. But more than that, it made him still feel connected… 

To you.

Of course, he knew better now to even consider himself worthy of even remembering you. He hurt you badly, stole you away from the world, and left you wounded in ways that he’ll probably spend a hundred more lifetimes to repent. Yet in those dark days when he thought what he was doing was out of love, there were also moments when you two connected from the stories you both loved. In those slivers of time, he thought—hoped—that maybe, you wanted to be with him too. 

“You didn’t have to come back here. There’s nothing to come back to anymore.”

Mark’s voice was what he needed to pull him from his spiraling thoughts again. Hand stiffening, he kept quiet, because he knew his brother was telling the truth. 

Being in the same house in the middle of the woods where he shared the days with you is not going to heal him of anything. It was not going to give him forgiveness. 

Nor was it going to give you back to him. 

The slight sound of rustling made him look up just in time to see Mark pushing a long slip of paper towards him from across the table. He picked it up and frowned at the print there. 

“Come to Hong Kong with me. You can stay there for a few months, or weeks, I don’t care. You can try and finish your book there and decide what you want to do after. You can go anywhere, except here.” 

Haechan’s gaze didn’t leave the plane ticket. He was barely touching it, and yet it felt like it was burning the pads of his fingers. From across him, he heard the sound of a chair pulled back across the floor, followed by his brother’s voice before he closed the door. 

“I leave in two days. Think about it. I hope to see you in the airport, Haechan. I know it's hard... but it’s time to finally let her go."

*******

“What are we going to say if they ask you for updates about your book? We don’t even have a publish date yet!” 

Haechan tried his best not to bash his head against the brick wall he is leaning on. He was currently on his third stick of cigarette, and yet the nagging of his publisher was doing more to his blood than the nicotine pumping in his veins. With a sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose at the hopes of staving off an oncoming migraine.

Why the fuck did he even agree to do a book signing in the first place? And is it too late to bolt from here?

“Xiaojun, if you don’t shut up, I will walk away and not do this at all. Stop worrying too much.” 

The poor man pacing in front of him stopped and looked at him with eyes as big as saucers. If he wasn’t so irritated, he would have laughed at his reaction.

“What?! You can’t do that! There are already people waiting for you outside!” 

“Yeah? Well those people only know Lee Donghyuck, not my face. I can easily walk out the door without them recognizing me.” 

The threat holds true though. In his career, he had only held a few exclusive book signings that all required guests to turn over their phones and cameras. It was the only way he agreed to do them after Xiaojun finally cracked him down with his incessant pestering. Surprisingly, the man loved the idea, saying that his mysterious persona will add on to his popularity.

“Okay, okay fine. I’m going to stop and go back inside. But please, can you have that as your last stick? We’re about to start in five minutes.” The same man blurted out now, face pale. “You can’t ditch this. This is your first ever book signing in Seoul!” 

And probably the last, came his silent, sour thought.

“Just get in. I’ll be there on time. Make sure nobody takes pictures,” he said as he shooed the other one last time. With one last suspicious look thrown at him, he finally heard the clicking of the door. He sighed and took one last hit of his cigarette before crushing it on the bin beside him.

“Stupid Mark. This is all because of him.” 

*******

“I love your book so much. I’ve been such a fan since the first one!” 

Haechan gave the woman a smile as he started scribbling on the copy of his book. He had lost count of how many people had said the same thing to him since the line started moving, but he accepted each one with practiced grace anyway. He might have lived as a hermit for the past few years, but that doesn’t mean he had lost his flair for charm for necessary situations like this. At least that’s what he can say from the way the guests, especially the women, seem to blush and look just a little disoriented when speaking to him.

“Thank you so much. Who is your favorite character?”

“Oh I love IL Bagatto! The Magician! I think he is so different from the rest.” 

He gave a slight laugh as he flicked his wrist to finish writing his signature. “Good choice. He is my favorite too. Thank you so much for supporting my work.” 

“Only five more,” Xiaojun mumbled quietly behind him as the man placed the final fresh batch of books on the table. As he waited for the next person to come, Haechan took the chance to reach out for his glass of water to take a sip. 

“Thankfully. I need a new pen. This one’s out of ink,” he grumbled back.

He had just uncapped the new marker he was handed when a shadow fell over his table. Like auto-pilot, he reached out for the top book from his pile when a soft voice stopped him.

“Oh. I’m so sorry… But would it be alright if I have my old copy signed instead?” 

It felt like the floor dropped under him with the way his lungs stopped breathing. Like the flip of a switch, everything around him fell silent, except for a heavy thudding that banged against his ears. It almost seemed like an out of body experience as he slowly looked up to meet a pair of eyes he had begged all that is holy to never let him see again in his living days.

You smiled at him, and all of a sudden there was a God that cared for the heavens again. 

“Yah… Hyuck… there are people waiting.”

He barely felt the slight nudge that Xiaojun gave him as he continued staring at you like you were a ghost. The world could be burning around him right now for all he cared. It was only when your smile slightly wavered did he snap out of his trance, your gaze hesitantly moving to the book that you have placed on the table.

“A-ah… it’s fine if I get a new copy. I don’t want to hold you back,” you said in the same voice that he remembered even after all those years that passed. Haechan felt his heart constrict as he tried to search for something else in your face. 

You… Do you remember…?

“Your name. What’s your name?” 

You looked a little worried yourself as you heard him croak a reply. Quietly, you answered as he blindly pulled the book towards him. It was only then that he realized it was not the same one as the title he is signing for today, but his very first story.

The Girl By The Window. 

The same book he was drafting when he last saw you in the hostel by the woods. The one whose pages you picked up and read under the dying light of the sun before he lost you again.

“I know this is just the start, but the way you wrote her makes me feel like you love her deeply as an author.” 

It took him his last strand of self-control as he heard your voice utter your name. Fingers shaking, he turned the battered cover of the book and flipped to the first page where his author dedication was. The copy was a soft cover version, and he noticed how well-loved it was from the yellowing paper and the earmarked pages. Shakily, he started writing there, barely aware of the words he scrawled. 

“That’s my favorite page. That dedication,” you said with a breathy laugh as you watched him sign. “To be loved is to be remembered. I think it’s a very beautiful quote.” 

Haechan looked up and felt himself drowning in your eyes. It only lasted for a few more seconds, but the way you held each other’s gaze felt as if every single day you spent apart came together as a singular unit in that moment. When he handed you back your book, he knew he had once again crossed a boundary he promised himself he would never tread again. 

“Can you wait for me to finish the signing? I want to talk to you… About this book.” 

He watched as your eyes rounded in slight surprise, before giving a slight nod to hide away what he just whispered from a curious Xiaojun over his shoulder. Without another word, you walked on, clutching the still warm book against your chest. 

*******

He found you at the end of the classics aisle, silently reading a book opened on your right palm. The bookstore is mostly empty now, except for a handful who mostly stayed at the front of the shop where the new releases are. The aisle where you are is a long one, and he simply stood at the end of it in silence, giving himself a few seconds to admire you from afar.

You looked so beautiful that he almost wished he could spend longer to just stare at you from a distance. The vision of you standing there, content in your silence and peace sent a painful throb through his chest. You looked so… safe with yourself. So free. All of the things he had only seen in his dreams, none of which consisted of him. In that moment, Haechan realized what he was about to start the moment he takes another step closer to you. This couldn’t be right… It has been ten years. He can’t throw that all away and mess it all up for you again. 

He took a step back to walk away… 

But then you looked up and said the words that turned his world upside down again.

“Haechan.” 

It felt like he had swallowed fire at that moment. Every part of him was burning—his hands that want to reach out to you, to his heart that seemed ready to burst out of his chest. He walked towards you slowly, as if afraid the image of you would disappear like an illusion if he approached you too fast. But you stayed there, resolved and unafraid. 

“You waited…” he whispered, breathless. You turned your body to him fully now, closing the book you were reading.

“You asked me to…” 

His eyes fell on the cover that you were holding and he felt his breath silently catch in his throat again. Shining in gold letters etched against the cover were two words. 

Wuthering Heights. 

“What do you want to talk to me about?” Your voice shook him back from his trance. You were looking at him so openly and yet he can’t read a single thing from you. Do you remember? Are you here to punish him? Or do you still not know him?

“How do you know my name?” It was not how he intended to ask the question, but it was the only thing he managed to push out now. You stared at him for a few heartbeats before finally giving a small smile and showing him the other book on your hand.

“You wrote it in the dedication you signed for me… Here,” blankly, he blinked at the page he just wrote on earlier, the black ink still fresh there. He didn’t even realize that’s how he signed.

“Oh…”

Silence fell on both of you then. You patiently waited for him to say more, while he was right there, combusting and putting himself together again and again internally. He didn’t plan ahead of this. How could he? He was never even meant to see you again.

“I was just—I was surprised when you brought my first book out. It has been so long since I…” he fumbled now, at a loss of what to say. It’s not too late yet, a voice inside him said. She doesn't remember. You can still walk away.

“I wanted to know why you like it.”

No. No, I don't. 

“Ah…You must be curious as its author,” you said kindly as you looked at the copy fondly. “It just felt so raw and real. To be honest, I stumbled upon it at a low point in my life and it helped me a lot. I can see how much you felt for her… the character you wrote.” 

His throat felt dry. He didn’t know what to say to that. 

“May I ask a question?" you asked again when it seemed like he has lost his tongue.

Do you still feel the same?” 

His gaze snapped back to you. The way you stared at him was still unreadable, but there was something in the light of your eyes that made the chaos in him slowly quiet down. It was as if you took hold of a thread inside of him and slowly pulled at it to unravel him slowly. 

“Feel what…?” 

“Love her. Do you still love her, Haechan?” 

That was all it took for the rest of the world to fall away around him. Fear was replaced with something else. No, that's wrong. He is still afraid, but he is willing. 

“I do. It never changed,” he said softly as he took another step towards you. You didn’t move back, even when he slowly raised his hand to cup your face.

“And you? Do you still like the way I loved her?” 

“I do. And do not at the same time,” you paused, and for a moment he could see it. All the answers he was looking for as he gazed down on your face.

“You hurt her.”

“I know.”

“You abandoned her. All of you did.” 

“We did…”

“You didn’t come back after taking everything from her.” 

“We didn’t think we deserved to come back. None of us did.” 

“And now? What do you think of it now?” 

Haechan paused, allowing himself to review every right reason why he is wrong for you. Yet, for every mistake and every risk, he found an excuse to never let you go again.

“I’ll stay. Even if I spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you… If you let me.” 

You watched him, thoughtful and doubting. He was ready to grovel to your feet at your denial. He'll beg you if you want him to, like the lost man he is.

But then you smiled.

“Even if I make you suffer for every wrong thing you did?” 

He stilled, surprised, before a soft laugh broke his silence. Gently, he lifted his other hand to cradle your face and tip it back. With a sigh, he leaned over to press his forehead against you.

“You can torture me every day of our life and I’ll still thank you at the end of it, noona."

This time, it was your turn to chuckle. You waited as he slowly dipped his face to yours, but stopped him just before your lips met.

“Haechan?” 

“Hmm?”

“What’s your favorite story?” 

He smiled before finally meeting your lips together.

“You. Forever you."

-------

Taglist: I only added those who were part of my taglist for Lucid previously (those who still haven't deactivated, at least!) @marijmin, @cabaretyun, @jhornytrash, @pukupukupawpau, @vsszn, @grandmasterslickfox @haoshitt , @furryllamas , @mindofthescattered @bettyschwallocksyee , @strawbunnyjaem , @huangberryyy

[mochamamii]

yandere!nct: you try to unalive yourself.

▹ a/n: hello loves, I can’t remember if I’ve written something like this before but I wanted write something a little darker today but soon I will force myself to write some fluff I promise lol.

▹ pairing: yandere!nct x reader

▹ triggers: self-harm, readers attempts to unalive themselves, kidnapping, forced relationships

▹ warning!: I can’t stress enough how triggering this might be, I get descriptive at certain parts and I strongly urge you to consider whether this is something you want to read, this is dark and not my normal writing. please prioritize your own well-being and do not read this if it will influence you in anyway, I have lots of other lighter reads 💕

Taeil won’t let it get this far. Taeil loves you deeply and wants only the best for you no matter how demented it appears to others. He dotes on, and nurtures you like his life depends on it, carefully crafting your meals and your routine to keep your mind and body healthy. If something like this were about to happen, he would be able to foresee your declining mental state and hopefully prevent any attempts. Taeil would do everything in his power to keep you safe and he’d do his best to make you as comfortable as possible. He’d even consider letting you go if it meant saving your life.

“How could you do this to yourself? Don’t I take care of you well?”

Johnny is always calm and collected, even when he’s pissed off, a stranger wouldn’t be able to tell the difference, he always keeps the same mask on, never giving you any idea of what he’s thinking inside his head. Until now that is…He comes home to find you on the bathroom floor. At first he thought you must’ve slipped, hitting your head and knocking yourself out in the process, not that it had been done intentionally. Johnny is at a loss of what to do, it’s one of the few times he’s not sure what to say or do to fix this. He usually has a witty comeback to lighten the mood but he knows now isn’t the time. He helps fix you up, cleans the wound on your head, and tucks you in bed. Anytime you part your lips to speak he’ll shush you. The two of you will probably sit in silence for a while until he can figure out how to address this.

“It’s okay, shhh…Just rest, save your energy. We’ll talk about it later.”

Taeyong is an angry mix of emotions. He’s known for at least a week now that you somehow managed to obtain poison. He theorized that you must’ve used cleaning supplies to mix a cocktail of chemicals, he found you hiding your stash under the bathroom sink. He assumed your plan was to use it on him, simply out of curiousity and amusement he wanted to see if you were actually capable of trying to kill him so he didn’t address it. He wanted to see how far you’d go to leave him. He waited and waited, but he never noticed anything different. He already had cameras installed in your shared apartment to watch you while he was away, he hoped to find you tampering with his food in a botched attempt to poison him. But still, nothing ever came of it. Until suddenly, you were the one who fell sick. His worry turned to anger as he arrived home one night to find you on the floor of the bathroom, the mixture of poison lying next to you.

“Are you insane? What were you trying to do, kill yourself? Do you think that will work, because I promise you, nothing…not even life itself will keep me from you. Don’t ever do something stupid like this again.”

Yuta feels remorse. It’s one of the few and probably only times Yuta will ever feel this way. Out of everyone, Yuta is one of the most intense and dangerous yandere’s, but he still loves you in his own twisted way. He likes to push your buttons and torture you a little but he’d never kill you…probably. For Yuta, part of the fun is seeing how badly you want to live, how badly you want for him to release you and return to your old life. When he arrives home to find you on the floor, a dark crimson pool of blood surrounding you he panics, all the color draining from his face as he sees your barely conscious body. He’ll clean you up, bandaging your wounds, he’ll monitor you for a few days wondering if he should take you to a hospital. In those few days as he waits to see if your condition worsens he’ll be super gentle, much more gentle with you than he’s ever been. His hands will run over all the old scarred skin where he’s cut you in different places before, a deep pang in his chest screaming at him for doing that to you. He’ll be soft with you, but he can’t help but still poke fun at you in an attempt to get you to talk to him.

“Hey, couldn’t you wait for me? At least I know when to stop, clearly you’re still an amateur…You could’ve really hurt yourself. What would I do then, huh?”

Doyoung is angry. At you, but mostly himself. He likes to believe that he knows you better than you know yourself. To come home and find you in the middle of attempting to harm yourself he will realize just how little he truly knows about you and your condition. Initially the only emotion he can really process is anger, the thought of coming home a second too late and losing you enraged him. Even while angry, he was solid as rock, never giving you much of a clue about what he was thinking. He will carefully nurse you back to health, never leaving your side not even for a second. Once you begin to recover he will experience heartbreak and grief over what could’ve happened. Doyoung won’t address the incident much and will from then on refer to it as the ‘incident’ he wants to pretend that it never happened. He’s a stubborn man and his behavior towards you might not change much, if anything he gives you less freedom, afraid to let you leave his side.

“Never do that again. Hate me. Hate me all you want to, but never do that again. Please.”

Jungwoo is distraught after finding you in such a state. He’s in disbelief and this is a rare occasion in which he is truly afraid. Afraid of what could’ve happened to you and what might happen again in the future if he’s not careful. It flips a switch in him and forces him to realize something that he cannot shake. That he might not just need to protect you from the world but from your own self too. He becomes distrustful of you, scared and afraid that you might try to hurt yourself again. There’s no amount of convincing or promises in the world that will put his mind at ease. This fear will drive him to act irrationally, he’s not above strapping you to a bed all day while he’s gone if it means keeping you safe. In his mind you forced him to take these measures to keep you safe.

“You know why I have to keep you locked up like this don’t you baby? I can’t risk you doing something like that again, what would I do without you?”

Mark is shocked. He never expected it, he doesn’t necessarily make your mental health a priority for him. He knows you probably hate him and that you’d do nearly anything to get away from him. He just never thought unaliving yourself would be on the table for you. In fact, he probably expected you to try and kill him before you ever tried to hurt yourself. He will feel shameful and for the first time a little guilty about taking you. I don’t see him ever letting you go but he might be willing to talk and see what changes can be made to make you more ‘comfortable’ in your new life.

“Don’t punish yourself for the decision I made. If you wanted to kill someone it should’ve been me. Not you, never you.”

Haechan’s response might come off as cold and heartless. That’s only half true. Initially he might try and make himself believe that it wasn’t you who did it to yourself but that an intruder broke in and attacked you. When he realizes what you tried to do he knows that nothing he will say will comfort you or inspire you to never do it again. You hate him, so much that you’d rather die than be stuck with him another second. What could he possibly say to change your mind? His approach is a little brazen and risky but he wants to test your will to live. How badly did you truly want to be free of him? He used the only thing he knows for sure works in keeping you in check. Fear. Your fear of him and what he might do.

“What? It’s okay for you to go around taking lives but I can’t?” He asks with a quizzical expression as he holds a knife to your former friend’s throat, his icy eyes piercing into yours.

[goroaix]

〘 It was hard to express how he felt under normal circumstances, let alone when he felt like he would turn to slush should he dare to gaze upon you. 〙

Winwin x gn reader. Yandere themes. Unhealthy obsessions. The general jist of all things yandere.

✧ It was a funny thing, really, to know that the nicest person in the whole office didn't like you. People would dismiss it, say you were reading into miniscule things without bothering to listen. To them, you were dirtying your nails digging for diamonds in a barren site

✧ But you knew it. You knew Dong Sicheng didn't like you. It was obvious to you how he would go out of his way to avoid you, to purposely disengage whenever it was your turn to talk in a meeting. You'd long since given up on expecting any replies to your emails, too.

✧ 'How can he hate you? He's just shy. He takes a while to warm up,' Jaehyun would say, echoing the words of everyone before him and the inevitable ones after him.

✧ Maybe he was shy, you'd entertained that idea. Maybe it because he didn't know how to approach someone in the adjacent department but not his own. Or perhaps he was just unsure of how to break the ice now that it had been months since you'd been onboarded.

✧ Regardless of what it was, you were certain. It was just dislike. Hate was a harsh word, and you didn't think you'd done anything to warrant such a visceral reaction from a man you'd only said 'hi' and 'hello' to once or twice (to a silent audience, as it were).

✧ Whatever, you thought. It was just whatever. If Sicheng didn't like you then that was his problem. All you cared about was if he did the work; all other matters were unimportant.

✧ But... Dislike and admiration was a fine line. Easy to cross, one might say.

-

✧ When Sicheng first saw you, he didn't think too much of it. Of course, you were one of his new coworkers and he had some semblance of interest in saying hello

✧ And he was going to! He told himself that it would be today. Tomorrow. The next time he saw you at lunch or when he passed your desk by...

✧ There was this lump in his throat, something not foreign to a man that had worked from the bottom up to land this job despite his naturally introverted personality and tendancy to hide away in his own thoughts. Even then, he'd always managed to choke out small talk. Being introverted didn't mean he was incompetent.

✧ So why was this feeling debilitating when it came to you?

✧ Why did he go home and think of all those vague glances he caught of you when you walked by his desk - always giving him a polite smile when when he couldn't muster the courage to fully look up. Sicheng knew that own day you would stop smiling at him, and he'd only have himself to blame. He'd spend hours staring at the ceiling, cheeks hurting at the corners from smiling.

✧ Damn. He was going crazy.

✧ Nevertheless, crazy was subjective and Sicheng could tell himself that he was just shy. That's what everyone said: he was shy. It was normal to think about someone and want to talk to them. There's nothing wrong with wanting to try some of the sweet smelling hand cream that you always seemed to have on your desk.

✧ So he did. When he knew you were on holiday, he reached into the bottom cabinet and pulled it out, fingers gripping tightly onto the packaging before he pressed some into the palm of his hand and scurried away within seconds.

✧ Of course it was decedent, melting into his skin like butter and leaving them soft, shiny, supple. This was how your hands must have felt all the time.

✧ You wouldn't know that he went out and bought the exact same one, that he'd swapped it with the one in your desk so he would have the one that you touched, used.

✧ No harm done, right? Sicheng doubted you would notice if he used a few of your pens or sat in your seat. He helped himself to one of the snacks you kept hidden, savouring the quality chocolate that coated it before replacing it once again. He wasn't stealing if he was replacing.

✧ When you returned, the smile of a person who was mentally and physically refreshed on your lips, Sicheng found himself mirroring it (even if he ducked out of view).

✧ He watched, watched and learnt. All those minutes he spent admiring at you from afar had culminated in this. Sicheng just wanted some pictures, something that he could look at. Besides, you were beautiful in every angle, whether tired or fresh faced. Every moment of your routine was engrained into his timetable, from when you'd leave the house to how you'd spend your first few minutes setting up.

✧ Log in. Have a sip of your drink. Scroll through your emails. Reply on teams. Then, get up and talk to some coworkers.

✧ Rinse and repeat.

✧ In his heart, he was well aware that he could just speak to you. Becoming part of this routine wouldn't be hard. All he had to do was say hi. He could easily use all he knew about you to start a conversation.

✧ It was awkward, and you seemed surprised. He did it regardless, stopping by your desk just moments before he knew you'd be leaving for lunch.

✧ "Hi," he'd said, fiddling with the box of raspberry pastries he had in his hands. Sicheng had seen you eat them - taken a few too many pictures when you licked the tart fruit from your lips. "Are you busy?"

✧ "Uh, no. I was just going to go for lunch." Just as he'd guessed. "Did you want to talk?"

✧ You were so cute. So... So... Cute. Could adults be this cute?

✧ "Do you mind if I join you?"

✧ Obviously, you agreed. You never said no when someone asked to have lunch with you. Sicheng was already planning on suggesting the amazing sushi restaurant just down the road - the exact one you always went to on this day.

✧ "I'm surprised," you missed, walking by his side and he moved himself closer, brushing his shoulder against yours whilst pretending like it did nothing to his already trembling heart. No matter how many times he'd sprayed your perfume on his pillows, it paled in comparison. "I thought you didn't like me."

✧ His lungs felt like they would implode. He could feel his pupils dilating, the heightened rush of blood. "I've never disliked you." I could never.

✧ And he meant it. He understood what had kept him awake all this time, had burrowed under his skin and rewired his nervous system.

✧ "Really? Well, I'm glad. I didn't want to have accidentally offended you."

✧ Sicheng smiled, the apples of his cheeks warming into this peachy shade of pink. "You didn't. I just tend to be a little... shy."

[writingzen]

Take It All.

✧ pairing- ten x reader

✧ request- “Can you please write the Making out scenario but With Ten?! I love the one you did with Mark 😫”

✧ A/N- enjoy :)

You litter kisses at his neck, painting purple and pink marks with every teasing kiss before moving towards his jaw, leisurely leaving wet marks following against his skin, knowing he always scolds you for leaving them in the first place but he silently dares you to do it anyway. When you finally reach his lips, you linger in the desperate feeling that hangs in the air, the feelings of wanting him in so many ways, the feeling of your bodies meeting, both being so close together. His hands at your hips as your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him so unbearably close wanting him annoying closer, rolling your hips experimentally against his relight he pays no attention to it just a smile that grows at his lips, his gaze locking with yours, lips not yet touching.

“Y/n~” he plays with your name, “don’t start” he warns lowly, his words causing a shiver to run down your spin but you enjoy them anyway, loving the way his voice speaks the words so delicately like music ringing in your ears. It sounds more like an invitation, like you’re being brought into a daydream, a wonderland. A smirk of satisfaction takes place on your lips as you lean in, finally allowing your plush lips to connect. Thought he seems teasingly hesitant he couldn’t help but be inexorably attracted to your lips, taking no more time to respond before kissing you back with urgency, allowing your lips to mold and melt into one, fitting together perfectly like pieces of a puzzle as his hand grasp your waist harshly causing a shaky whimper to bubble up your throat, escaping as your lips move in sync. He hushes you when you feel the wide, mischievous grin against your lips, his other hand making its way to cup the nape of your neck madly pushing you further into his embrace eager to taste all of you. You tilt your head, gaining more access, making the kiss more passionate as his tongue wetly glides into your mouth, fighting for dominance as the blood abandons your cheeks to awaken other, more sensitive parts of your body. You swallow back, desperately trying to silence the noises you want to make as he sinks his teeth on your lower lips burning away any sense of control you had left before pulling away just to watch you chase his lips, your eyes full of desire as you stare at his lips, itching to continue, just loving how worked up you get, eyes searching for yours. You both huff into each others mouth, feeling the warm air between you both before meeting his tempting gaze, a pout forming on your lips as his teasing settles in and hits you, but he does nothing but stare back with a cocky smirk on his lips, melting away any innocence there was left. The way his eyes pierce through yours makes your head spin and legs week, your being becoming liquid with just one look.

His eyes darken as his smirk tugs wider once again, enjoying your reaction a lot more then he expects as his lips pecks yours, giving you nothing else before moving down to your jaw, nibbling small love bites as his lips continues down. His lips quickly attach to your neck as he sucks against your soft skin, eyes still focused on you. Your head hangs back, mouth gaped open as the tingling sensation keeps building up in your stomach with every lazy kiss he gifts you with, claiming your body and marking you as his.

He mumbles sweet nothings against the skin of your collarbone as you lose yourself Into him all over again and though he doesn’t mean to, he feels his sense of control dropping as his kisses become rougher, biting purple butterflies on your delicate skin, not being able to handle the temptations of you. He doesn’t know if it’s the stress of his work or the way your body responds so needly with every touch, his usual self becomes blinded by you as he falls deeper, craving more than just a few sensual kisses, craving you entirely. He wants to feel his body against yours as you moan his name sweetly with every pleasure that floods your body. He wants to feel himself buried deeply inside you, hitting your spot over and over again as you grip his hair harshly, letting out the most lewd sounds, gasping and moaning, so whiny so needy, loving every thrust he pounds into you. Tears staining your cheeks as small hairs stick to your forehead, sweat glistening agains your sensitive skin. A sight only he gets to see, a sight he will get to see.

He allows his thoughts to take over his actions, with his hands wrapped around your hips he guides you, placing your back against the couch seats, moving your position so he is now hovered over you before his lips joins yours once again, muffling the gasp caught in your throat. His intoxicating kisses being taking over with such deprived lust as his hands roam your body like it’s the first time he’s ever touched you.

His hands finally rests at your neck as he finally forces himself to pull away, his warm breath hitting against your lips as he speaks breathlessly, “you deserve it best” the words rolling off his tongue right onto your lips as he speaks sternly,

“so take it all”

[atriza]

The Idol's Prize

Yandere Idol!Mark Lee x Reader

Summary: In a twisted arrangement by the company and his fellow members, NCT’s Mark Lee is gifted a new role for you—not as a manager or assistant, but as his personal possession.

Word Count: 1,250 words

Trigger Warnings:

Possessive/obsessive behavior: Depictions of controlling and obsessive tendencies.

Non-consensual physical contact: Persistent touch despite discomfort.

Forced proximity: Sharing a room and being subjected to Mark’s constant presence.

Emotional manipulation: Coercion disguised as love and care.

Themes of entrapment: Lack of agency in personal and professional life.

Please read cautiously.

The room was quieter than you expected for a dorm housing some of the most famous idols in the world. NCT’s dorm was spacious and pristine, yet there was an underlying tension in the air as you followed the manager down the hallway. Every step you took felt heavier than the last, the reality of your new role sinking in.

You’d heard whispers about this arrangement for weeks, but it still hadn’t prepared you for the announcement earlier today: you were being permanently reassigned to Mark Lee. Not as a manager. Not as an assistant. But as his.

The reasoning was simple, they’d said. Mark worked himself to the bone for the group and deserved a reward. And you—quiet, unobtrusive, and hand-selected by the company—fit the bill. The members had even approved of the idea, much to your surprise.

“Here we are,” the manager said, stopping in front of a door.

You blinked, startled. “This is… Mark’s room?”

“Yes,” he replied with a tight smile. “From now on, you’ll share this space. It’s important for you to be available to him at all times.”

Before you could protest, the door swung open, revealing Mark standing inside.

“Hey,” he said, his voice warm but laced with something you couldn’t quite place. His smile widened when he saw you. “You’re finally here.”

---

The first few days were overwhelming. Sharing a room with Mark was… an adjustment. He was always there, always watching, his eyes lingering on you whenever you moved. At first, it was subtle—a hand brushing against yours as you passed, a fleeting touch on your shoulder. But as the days went on, his touch became bolder.

“You’re tense,” he said one evening, his voice soft as he stood behind you. His hands landed on your shoulders, kneading gently. “You need to relax.”

“I’m fine,” you replied quickly, your heart racing.

He didn’t let go. “You work so hard for me. Let me take care of you for once.”

You didn’t have the courage to pull away, and Mark seemed to take your silence as consent. His hands slid down your arms, his touch lingering before he finally stepped back.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Perfect.”

---

The members didn’t make things any easier.

“Looks like Mark’s finally happy,” Haechan teased one morning over breakfast. “You’ve been smiling a lot more lately.”

Mark shrugged, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “Why wouldn’t I? I’ve got everything I need right here.”

You stiffened, feeling the weight of his words. The other members exchanged knowing glances, some smirking while others avoided your gaze entirely.

“She’s good for you,” Taeyong said, his tone neutral but firm. “You seem… calmer.”

Mark’s grip on your shoulder tightened slightly, and you fought the urge to flinch.

---

Public outings were another challenge. Mark insisted on keeping you close, his hand always resting on the small of your back or your wrist. Fans began to notice, whispering among themselves whenever you appeared at events.

“Who is she?” they’d ask, their voices barely audible over the noise of the crowd.

“Why is Mark always with her?”

The rumors spread quickly, but the company did nothing to address them. If anything, they seemed content to let the speculation grow, as long as Mark stayed happy.

But you weren’t happy.

---

One night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, Mark’s voice broke the silence.

“Are you cold?”

You glanced over at him, surprised. He was lying on his side, his head propped up on one hand as he looked at you.

“I’m fine,” you said, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself.

Mark frowned. “You don’t have to lie. Come here.”

Before you could respond, he reached out and pulled you toward him, wrapping his arms around you.

“Mark—”

“Shh,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “I just want to hold you. Is that so bad?”

His grip was firm but not painful, his body warm against yours. You lay there stiffly, unsure of how to react.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered, his voice filled with an almost childlike vulnerability. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The weight of his words pressed down on you, and you realized there was no escaping this. No escaping him.

---

As the weeks went on, Mark’s possessiveness grew. He rarely let you out of his sight, and when you did leave the dorms, he insisted on knowing exactly where you were and who you were with.

“You don’t need anyone else,” he said one evening as you sat together on the couch. His hand rested on your thigh, his thumb drawing slow circles on your skin. “I’m all you need.”

“Mark, this isn’t healthy,” you said, your voice trembling.

He looked at you, his eyes darkening. “Don’t say that. Don’t act like you don’t feel the same way.”

You swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. Mark leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You belong to me. They gave you to me. Don’t forget that.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away, knowing that showing weakness would only make things worse.

---

The other members noticed the shift in your dynamic but said nothing. They’d made their peace with the arrangement, knowing that it kept Mark stable.

“You’re good for him,” Taeyong said one day as you stood in the kitchen. “He’s been through a lot, and you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.”

“What about me?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Who’s going to keep me grounded?”

Taeyong didn’t have an answer.

---

That night, as you lay in bed, Mark pulled you into his arms once again. His touch was gentle, but his grip was unyielding, as if he were afraid you might disappear.

“I love you,” he murmured against your hair. “More than anything.”

You closed your eyes, trying to block out the sound of his voice, the weight of his presence. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t escape the truth: you were his, and there was no way out.

[yankpop]

Yandere NCT Masterlist

Be aware that these are fiction works made for entertainment purposes.

These are DARK/YANDERE works so READ THE WARNINGS at the beginning. I do not support any of these toxic behaviours.

Reader is always female. 

DRABBLES/IMAGINES

◼  You say you hate him ( Mafia! Taeyong )

You tell you captor that you hate him and that was not a good idea.

◼ You try to break up ( Johnny ) 

Your attempt of breaking up with your boyfriend doesn’t go so well.

◼ He cheats on you (Jaehyun) 

You catch your boyfriend Jaehyun cheating and try to leave him, but things take a surprising turn. (Requested)

◼ He meets you  (Jisung)

Short and older Y/N (Requested) 

◼ He breaks in (Haechan) + Part 2 

Haechan gets tired of waiting for you, so he breaks into your apartment.

◼ Sweet moment (Shotaro) 

Just a small sweet moment between you and Shotaro (requested)

◼ He’s an online stalker (Taeil)  + Part 2

You have a very dedicated online stalker and he’s not going anywhere.

◼ Voyeur Yuta 

Yuta has a thing for spying you from afar. (Requested)

◼ Hurting himself for your attention (Jeno)

You help out a friend who’s hurt by an accident, but little do you know that it was no accident.

◼ You go on a date with someone else (Jaemin) 

Your best friend doesn’t take it lightly when you lie to him about going on a date with someone else.

◼ OT6 (Dream)

Taeyong tries to get between you and the boys and that’s something they won’t tolerate.

◼ Overprotective during your pregnancy (Kun) 

Your “husband” wants your unborn baby to be healthy and for that, he’s willing to manipulate you until he gets what he wants.

College Universe 

◼ Bully Mark + Part 2 + Part 3 + Part 4 + Part 5 + Part 6

Mark wants to take you to prom and he won’t take no as an answer (Requested)

◼ ?

REACTIONS/SCENARIOS

127 

◼ You only speak English

◼ When you wear revealing clothes 

Dream

◼ You fake being sick 

◼ You lie to them 

◼ You ask them for a pregnancy test 

◼ You’re dating another member 

◼ Forcing you to marry them

◼ Fake chats #1

U 

◼ You curse at him (Make a wish unit)

◼ You’re on birth control (Make a wish unit) 

◼ You hurt them to escape (Let’s play ball unit) 

◼ You want to become an idol (Let’s play ball unit) 

◼ You realize how toxic they are (90′s Love unit) 

◼ Other member notices his yandere behavior (From Home Unit) 

WayV

◼ Not wanting them to hold you 

MTL (Most to Least) 

◼ To kidnap you (Dream) 

◼ To become controlling fast (Dream) 

◼ To spoil his s/o (127)

[im-657-mv]

your fantasy

yandere faerie lee taeyong

word count: 2129

Was this a dream? Your hazy mind had no clue. You were standing in the middle of the forest full of shades of the deepest of greens as the moon lit the area around you. It was so overwhelming the beauty of it all. It seemed so ethereal almost fake the way the branches swayed and the overall calmness it evoked from within.

Blue flowers were scattered around where you stood delicate and beautiful under the night sky. You bent down to get a closer look kneeling down to come face-to-face with the abnormal orchid. Never have you seen a flower of such color, the usual being a yellow or pink shade, but this was different. It was unusual in a pleasant intriguing way. In a way where all questions poking your mind vanquished within the gaze of the enchanting flower.

You didn't know where you were or even if you were on the same planet, yet you weren't afraid not the slightest. Maybe this was a dream of sorts one of mystery and temptation.

Standing up you looked around noticing a path. Those flowers again but this time they seemed to lead somewhere distant and far away. One by one they appeared further than your eye could see.

"Weird," You whispered deciding to absently follow their careful guidance. It didn't seem to matter where they were leading you all you wanted to do was to follow them.

Step by step you continued as they lead you away oblivious to the dense fog that arose from the ground encapturing your physique and hiding you from the rest of the world.

"Pretty flowers," You bent down and plucked one from the grass giving it a delicious sniff. Immediately a warm smile graced your face as your eyes closed shut. You really liked this dream…

Giggling you started to prance around chasing the flowers to their seemingly endless point. The wind breathed and laughed with you as the trees swayed and danced in your presence. Little lights of colors flew up beckoning you to follow them their with their auras breathing in union with your own.

Reds, pinks, greens, and purples all swarmed around you making your head spin and your feet dance thoughtlessly around as you chased them.

"Come…" They knowingly whispered making you giggle out loud in a state of oblivious bliss. Dancing around you bent up and down picking up more and more of the sensuous flowers that gathered up in your warm hands not forgetting to smell them and bask in the exhilaration.

But all of a sudden the flowers stopped in their tracks causing you to falter and trip over presumably nothing. With worried eyes, you tightly clutched your bouquet scared to even let a few of them go.

"Aren't the flowers so pretty?" A voice of velvet rang out in a purr. Your smile resumed on your face as you sat up inhaling the beautiful scent again delighted in the returning warm feeling gathering in your insides.

"Yes," You murmured too preoccupied with your task at hand. The stranger kneeled down in front of you admiring your smile and unknowing innocence.

"You know I've never met a human before." He whispered lightly leaning in closer to you. Looking up confused at his absurd statement you finally noticed the great big blue wings that shimmered against the moonlight.

"You're a-"

"A faerie." A knowing smile sneaked its way on his lips and deep down in the back of your mind, behind the fog, you knew this was dangerous. You had to-

"Why don't you smell some more flowers," He spoke out quickly plucking one from beside you, " the blue ones are my favorite." His eyes met yours as he shoved the flower against your face demanding you smell it. His eyes lit up flashing a shade of blue as you breathed in the flower and once again the fog took its place inside your mind ceasing all of your worries.

"Dance with me." You took his hand, his soft delicate cold hand that pulled you up with ease as he dragged you along willing to dance among the flowers and trees. A smile appeared on your face as you both moved back and forth not minding the silence nor the increasing presence of others arriving.

You couldn't take your eyes off of him. You didn't want to but something was telling you to run away, but why? You giggled at the thought and continued in your magical waltz with the faerie as he twirled you around and round. Not once did his hands leave your body either taking seize of your hand or laying hold on your waist, but you didn't mind.

"Stay with me…" He whispered as he slowed the dancing to a halt while keeping you facing toward him. The faerie's wings fluttered in anticipation at your answer hoping it'll be the right one but you couldn't. Everything was a muddled mess the flowers, the forest, the faerie looming over you awaiting an answer.

But there it was again, that voice that whispered a warning. This time you would listen.

"I don't even know your name." The words tumbled out of your mouth while your face frowned into anxiety.

"Taeyong. My name is Taeyong." You looked up tracing his details with your eyes. He is so beautiful.

"My name is-,"

"Y/N." He whispered as his admiration grew alongside his expression. "I know," Taeyong smirked as the flash of blue moved across his eyes again.

"I think I should go home now, Taeyong." His wings jittered aggressively at your comment while his eyebrows furrowed together. Was it anger, confusion, or annoyance? Part of you wanted to know but the other half advised against it. The faerie may be enchanting but something was off about him. He wasn't like the faeries you read in story books.

A hand touched your face and you were reminded of your situation. Taeyong asked again for you to stay with him this time with a little more force to his words as his hand hooked onto your neck.

"I really think I should go home now…" Nervously you watched as he smiled wider than before.

"You are in my forest." He spoke louder as his other hand joined your neck. "You smelled my flowers. I know you'll like it here. So why don't you just say yes?" With a tilt of his head, he continued reminding you that you were most definitely in his land in his territory.

"We could live happily together. Dancing, talking… being in love. All of this until the end of time." A gut-wrenching wave of realization hit you as Taeyong spoke of his future intentions with you. You tried to move back but he just moved with you following your timid steps.

"I know what you want. I know your deepest desires, Y/N." He whispered moving his hands down along your arms down to your hands gripping them tightly as he intertwined them within his own.

"Don't you want to live in pure bliss forever? Don't you want to know what it's like to have everything you've ever wanted?"

"I want to go home Taeyong! I have a family and a life that doesn't include whatever crazy delusion this is!" Exasperated you breathed in calming yourself first, "Wake up, Y/N. Wake. Up." You closed your eyes tightly trying to wake up from whatever dream this was. It was fun at first but now it was getting frightening.

Taeyong's once calm demeanor suddenly flipped as he sneered at your comment. "You won't be able to escape me that easily," Emiting a low growl he quickly moved your hands closer to him as you struggled against him.

"Hear my words!" The sudden shout frightened you as you looked up finally noticing the others who have gathered around as they encircled you and Taeyong together. "I chose Y/N L/N as my mate, my only soulmate." The words shocked you as your efforts slowed in disbelief. You tried to grab his attention begging him with pleas of no's but he paid no mind to your pathetic cries.

"I promise to love, to hold, and to cherish my only chosen," With angry eyes, he moved your left hand to his chest as he pressed his own to yours. "May death fear our carnation. May time fear our uniting." With a slight jolt of energy, his hand began to emit a blinding light against your cheast that pricked your entire body. You tried to pull away fearfully but hissed in pain at the sad attempt. "Even the gods of the land will hear of our procreation and rejoice in absolution." A stinging pain filled your bones as your own hand started to light up too.

"You are going to stay with me, forever." Taeyong lowered his gaze to your own as you cried at the pain. The prickling sensation seemed to increase by the second as the light grew brighter and brighter.

"I told you," He heaved as his eyes became glossy, " you won't escape me that easily." Simaltaniusoly you both fell at the increase in pain that seemed to even affect Taeyong this time. Groans filled the forest as you writhed against Taeyong unable to move away from him. He too seemed to twist in agony too making him pull you closer flush against his chest and hand still pressed onto you.

Little by little you could hear the sounds of chanting growing louder as the force of nature swayed in symphony, in ultimate divine aggreance. You tried to make out the words using what little consciousness you had but failed leaving only a guttural of annoyance. Taeyong only seemed to grow more and more unsteady as his hand tangled itself in your hair letting out an erotic moan that sparked something inside you.

"No, no no no-" You mumbled as you grew hot at the feeling of his silken lips against your burning neck.

"I need you," He groaned as he lavished your neck causing you to moan the same erotic sound he made not too long ago. Taeyong continued to leach off your neck nipping, licking, and sucking every inch of it. Unwilling you fell into the trap of arousal influenced by his damned stimulation. Both of you were twitching in invigoration excited by the lust that filled the air all around.

Taeyong erratically moved to the side of your neck making sure to kiss it all around. "I'll love you forever," A deep inhale between the two of you arose as he devoured your aroma. A broken moan left your lips as he grazed his lips delicately this time, "Taeyong-", within an instant, his delicate touch was erased. A scream of pain erupted as you felt his teeth sink in harder as he clamped down on your neck not letting go. Tears fled your eyes faster before as blood trickled down your neck and around his fevered mouth.

You tried to push him off but he wouldn't budge. After a few seconds, he released you as you both came down from the high fervor, panting and completely out of breath. The chanting stopped and the force of nature calmed down together with you, it had to be over. Please be over.

"I'll find you Y/N." The faerie panted looking psychotic as blood dripped from his lips onto his neck and chest. "You'll always be mine." He whispered as he petted your head calming your frizzy hair and pulling you closer to his body.

Your eyesight began to blur as you started to drift off into sleep, "I'll love you Y/N," Taeyong whispered as he laid your head onto his shoulder hugging you tightly before everything faded to an empty abyss. "Until the end of time…"

-

You gasped and jerked awake feeling dizzy and sweaty as your mind started to wake back up. What kind of dream was that? Groaning you grasped your head feeling the worst headache coming on but as you did so you felt a sting all along the side of your neck. You stopped what you were doing immediately and slowed your breathing.

"No, no no…" You held your breath as you brought your hand slowly to your neck scared of what you might find. You touched it and almost let out a sob at the feeling. Dried blood with an open wound the size of a bite mark.

Looking around terrified at finding the faerie in the room your eyes caught sight of something else… a bouquet of blue flowers that were placed gently on your window seal.

A dreaded cry sounded as your hand flew to your mouth. It was real…

"It wasn't a dream…"

[hydroyaksha]

Soleil’s fic recs

EXO:

Yixing- king! “The Lotus king and his jade” @sweetjekyll

Kyungsoo- hogwarts! “Spellbound” @whimsical-ness

Sehun- X-EXO! “GREED” @/quokkacore

Sehun -(X-EXO) “LIBERALITY” @quokkacore

Baekhyun - idols! “The rumors were true” @eomayas

Kyungsoo - yandere! “I love you, I love you, I love you.” (Made by me!)

STRAYKIDS - [separate link]

Chan/ Felix - polyamory! Hogwarts! “Detention” @dreamescapeswriting

Felix - demon slayer! “If you tell me about myself” @skazoo

Felix - enemies to lovers! “Strawberry kisses” @softsan

Felix - dick joke centered! CEO! “Penis heart” @staysuki

Felix - Agent! Scientist! “A normal Thursday” @abiaswreck

Hyunjin - mafia! “Ice” @healinghyunjin

Hyunjin - mafia! “Not a stranger” @straywrds

OT8 - ABO! “No control” @cherryeol04

Hyunjin - Hanahaki! (With a good ending) “forget me not” @hhjs

Bangchan - Indian performer! Idol! “Butterfly wings” @straykidshoe

Lee know - siren! “Call of the siren” @tasteleeknow

Lee know - hogwarts! “Green flames” @streetlight11

Jeongin - android! “Alive” @rainy-bangbeom

Felix - royalty! Best friends! “Fairy flowers” @hyunsvngs

Felix - bodyguard! “Your bodyguard, Felix” @skzdarlings

Jisung - ghostface! “It’s a scream baby!” @tyunphoria

Felix - dating show! “TOO HOT TO HANDLE” @seospicybin

Felix - prince! “Forgive me for what I haven’t done” @rachalixie

NCT:

OT23 - yandere! Cult! “Connect” @mymoodwriting

WAYV:

OT7 - yandere! “Awaken” @/mymoodwriting

TEN - vampire!Hunter! “Blood wars” @things-we-cant-say

LUCAS - hybrid! “Please don’t bite me” @/quokkacore

NCT127:

NCT127 - yandere! Aliens! “Who is sticker?” @/mymoodwriting

Taeyong/ Yuta - Angels! Devils! Yandere! “Watching over you” @whiteteadreams

Jaehyun - Dog hybrid! “Competitive spirit” @flowerboykun

OT9 - vampires! Witches! “Black magic” @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l

Jaehyun - hogwarts! “Head over brooms” @sehunniepotwrites

NCT DREAM:

Mark - supernatural! “grit your f*ckin’ teeth” @irtza

Haechan - yandere! “Inseparable” @mint-yoongi

Jaemin - athlete! “on the rebound” @lunena

Jaemin - “Crazy in love” @mayaflowerxs

Renjun - classmates! “Blondes are done with fun” @rrxnjun

00’ line + Mark - arcana! “Arcane” @neonacity

Haechan - hockey player! “Ice ice baby” @cozyjae

Haechan - uni! “Learning languages” @tonicandjins

NCT TOKYO:

Sungchan - superhero! “Through the webs” @yutafrita

ENHYPHEN:

ENHYPHEN - scenario! “How they’re protective over you” @foresdxw

NI-KI - scenario! Idols! “Cookies - shattered glass” @ilovehimyourhonor

JAY - bad boy! Good girl! Dancer! “Opposites attract” @dazed-hee

NI-KI spiderman! “Spider-Man loves you” @misoxhappy

TXT:

Beomgyu- hybrid! “Until it hurts a little less” @horanghoe

Beomgyu - fae! “Dasies” @thru-the-grapevine

Soobin - AI! “Artificial love” @bb-eilish

Beomgyu- Spider-Man! “Not your average boyfriend” @slytherinshua

Yeonjun- fox hybrid! “Silly fox baby” @seowhorebin

BTS:

Taehyung - Android! “A human touch” @snackhobi

SHINee:

KEY - A/B/O! “Out of love” @mymoodwriting

THE BOYZ

OT11 - android! “The boyz become human” @tbznewberry

[mint-yooxgi]

Kinktober Day 12 - Yandere!Demon!Kun + Oral Fixation

Anonymous Said: Hello! For Kinktober, can I request Yandere Demon Kun + Oral Fixation, please? Thanks 🐈‍⬛💕 A/n: I tried something a little different for this one, so I hope you enjoy! Warnings/Genre/Rating: 18+ MDNI - Smut, Mature, Established Relationship, Yandere, Possession, Monster Features Word Count: 677 Kinktober 2024 Mini Masterlist

The sound of heavy breathing fills the room, low moans accompanying every exhale. Kun’s eyes flutter shut, tossing his head back as he feels you hum around him. His whole body twitches, hand cupping the back of your head gently as his claws caress your skin. He may be ready to shred something apart from the way you keep him just on the edge, but always, his touch will be as delicate as a flower when it comes to you.

“Fuck- Princess,” Pitch black eyes meet your innocent gaze. “You love having this cock down your throat, don’t you?”

A moan of agreement reverberates around him, your eyes fluttering shut in bliss.

“Such a Good Girl for me…” He coos, fingers gently massaging the back of your head.

Blinking your eyes open, you flick the tip of your tongue against his slit, shifting to suckle just the head of his cock between your lips. Your one hand rests on his thigh, nails biting into his skin as you use the other to stroke over what you no longer hold in your mouth.

Releasing him with a wet pop, you grip him firmly by the base. Leaning in, you trace your tongue up a prominent vein, teasingly flicking against his tip each time you reach it.

Low groans greet your ears, the spaded tip of his tail flicking contently in the air behind him. His thighs tense, tossing his head back once more as he feels you beginning to place wet, open mouthed kisses along the underside of his cock.

“You make it hard to last, My Sweet.” He moans, stomach clenching as you bring your hand up to begin massaging his balls.

A low giggle is all he gets in response, your lips quirking upwards in a pleased smile.

“I like watching you fall apart for me.” You coo, stroking over him a few times before circling your fist over the head of his cock. “Makes me feel good, knowing what I can do to you.”

“I’ll fall apart for you as many times as you’d like. Just for you. You and only you.” He pants, hips jerking into your touch. “Fuck- Just like that…”

Your eyes glint mischievously, leaning into him once more. Not even a moment later, you’re wrapping your lips around him, suckling the tip into your mouth as your tongue flicks against his slit. Your hand pumps over him steadily, beginning to bob your head along his length.

Pleased hums reverberate against him as you hollow your cheeks. Your tongue caresses over him with each stroke, swirling over his shaft as your hand continues to cup his balls.

“Gonna come-“ His voice hitches, hips lifting into you as he holds you firmly by the back of your head.

You can feel his cock twitch against your tongue, and with one final cry of your name, he’s bursting down your throat.

Every drop of him, you eagerly swallow. Your eyes flutter in bliss as you hear him moaning, low curses and growls escaping him as he thrusts lightly into your mouth. Your tongue continues to lave over the length of his cock, happily letting him fuck your mouth as his whole body shakes beneath your touch.

Finally, he settles back into his chair, the tip of his tail twitching as his chest heaves. His eyes are hooded over, moaning as you release him with a wet pop.

“You’re pure perfection, Princess.” He pants out, hand slipping around to cup the side of your face gently. “Only I get to experience you.”

“Only you.” You hum in agreement, tongue darting out over the corner of your lip.

Innocently, you blink up at him with wide eyes, watching as he attempts to compose himself. Only, your hand begins slowly pumping over him once more.

A choked moan of your name escapes him.

“Shhh,” You coo at him, leaning in to flick your tongue over his slit as he begins to grow hard in your hand again. “I didn’t say I was finished with you just yet.”

[neobomb]

give into things i (dont) want to [lee haechan] - the sequel

bully! (yandere) stalker! Haechan x innocent! virgin! church girl!reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. please read part 1 before reading this Word Count: 1.6k [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Warnings: dark and triggering content, mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, manipulation, forcing??, choking & breathplay?, hair pulling, unprotected sex, corruption kink, noncon, fingering, creampie, loss of virginity, MDNI, smut smut smut Summery: bully!Haechan is secretly in love with you and loves pulling your hair bc it feeds into his perverted fantasies. btw, donghyuk is haechan's real name. donghyuk, hyuk and haechan are all haechan. for the one person who wished to be tagged: @got-sum-badhabits © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

“Please, Donghyuk, stop...” Haechan gently breaks the kiss, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. His fingers delicately weave through your hair, brushing the strands that softly kiss your shoulders. Tears wells in your eyes as he tightens his fist in your hair, tugging harshly until you hiss through gritted teeth, your eyes looking up at him with the same innocence he is awfully familiar with.

“I stole your first kiss, didn’t I?” he says as his lips form a deranged smile. You find yourself in a state of paralysis, words eluding your grasp, unable to sculpt the sentence you so desperately seek. You muster all your willpower, attempting to dodge his lustful gaze by avertedly turning your head down. 

“Too bad you can’t take it back now.” he says, yanking your head up, letting a loud intake of air grace through your lips. His hands make its way down your shoulders and up to your delicate throat, his thumb brushing the wounded areas marked by his fingerprints. 

“It’s too easy.” he inspects his work on your throat, feeling how the skin gently rises as you gulp in nervousness. He is accustomed to your episodes of panic, especially when he would hold you up against your locker, but never had he seen it manifest quite like this.

“that I can just take your life away in a heartbeat if I wanted to.” His fingers intertwined tightly, securing a firm grip around your throat once again. He grins with delight as your eyes widen, your body shaking erratically from fear. 

“God, you’re so pretty like this” he says, tightening his grip around your neck. “Even with your short hair you look so fucking pretty.” Despite his dislike for your decision to change your haircut to suit Jaehyun's tastes, your beauty remains undeniable. After all, it was your radiant beauty that drove him crazy, making him go to immeasurable extents to gain your attention. Even with your life in his hands at play, deep down, Haechan knows that you’re the one in control. 

“Strip for me, baby” he whispers into your ears, making shivers travel down your spine. “If you want me to spare your life, you do as I say” he reminds you. You have no choice but to slowly bring your hands up to the collar of your shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. As your fingers graze the final button, a brief pause of hesitation halts your movements, but his tightening grip around your neck tells you to continue. 

You let your white button-up shirt drop to the floor, leaving you in your slightly see-through lace bra that compliments your skin tone perfectly. His favorite, he thinks to himself. Haechan pauses, taking the opportunity to truly observe you up close—a contrast to the distant glimpses through your bedroom window he's been accustomed to until now. His dick becomes painfully hard at the sight.

You slowly bring your hands to your back, struggling to find the hook of your bra clasp. Without hesitation, Haechan moves swiftly, his free hand goes behind your back to undo your bra before you let it slip off of your shoulders and down to the floor. You feel awfully exposed in front of him. Instinctively, you bring your hands up in an attempt to shield your body from his gaze. 

“Don’t hide from me, baby” Immediately, he brings your arms behind your back, locking them in place by your wrists. “Now, take off that skirt of yours without hiding from me.” he demands, releasing his grip around your wrists, letting you slowly push down your skirt and panties onto the floor in one swift move.  

He pauses, allowing himself to fully appreciate the breathtaking view of your completely naked body. He makes sure to scan every inch of your body with his eyes, making sure to commit every detail to memory with deliberate care. The feeling of your body so close to his will remain etched in his mind.

“Perfect baby, you look so fucking perfect.” he whispers before stealing another lustful kiss from your lips, hand still around your neck until this very moment. With his free hand, softly cupping your clit, brushing one finger up and down until your pussy starts to glisten from the wetness that forms. You desperately try to muffle your moans into the kiss while pressing your thighs together from the discomfort. 

“So pure, so untouched. All for me to destroy.” he whispers as his lips make their way down your body, ensuring that visible love bites mark every place his lips have visited. He releases his hands from your neck, restoring the rhythm of your breath to its natural, steady pace. To your relief, you’re no longer suffocating. 

Just as his lips were almost brushing against your clit, you gather every shred of valor and prepare to voice your thoughts. “You’re a pervert” Your speech stumbles and gets trapped in your throat while your chest begins to heave with quick, irregular breaths at the realization of his actions. 

“What a big mouth you got, baby girl?” he says, his eyes lift to meet yours, wide with astonishment. “I was about to go easy on you, baby. I wanted to make you cum with my lips.” Immediately, you regret ever saying those words, pressing yourself more firmly against the wall, wishing to simply vanish into nothingness.

“I won’t be gentle now” your eyes widen before he grabs you and pins you to your desk, leaving your ass up in the air for him to smack. For a moment, he stares at your naked ass, brushing his fingers over the red handprint he just made. He spits into your hole to lubricate it before leaning over you and lining his length up with your hole. Without any warning, he pushes his dick into you in one swift move. You sob, eyes tightly shut from the discomfort.

You feel tight, wet and warm around his cock. He can’t help but push until he settles balls deep inside of you, wanting nothing more than for you to feel every inch of him before he starts moving at an uncomfortable fast pace. He tips his head back to the ceiling, and moans your name.

“Fuck… Pussy so tight…” His voice was strained with arousal as your nails dig into your desk. Moans progressively loader as the speed of his thrusts increased. The contents of your desk cascade onto the floor as a result.

“Hyuk, it hurts…” you say in desperation. The sweetness in your voice gets him to rub circles on your clit, to which you force yourself to focus on rather than the constant painful stretch. His hips are still slapping into your ass loudly at a brutal pace, making you squirm below him. He is making it clear that he intends to show you no mercy. He wouldn’t be able to hold back even if he wanted to.

“Stay still.” he growls as he brings his hand from your clit to further press your upper body to the wooden surface of your desk. He feels your juices mixed with a hint of blood in a diluted reddish color, oozing out of you, coating his cock with every thrusts. Just from feeling your pussy pulse around him, he is certain of your growing ease.

“You want to be Jaehyun’s so bad, huh?” he hiss, knowing that his thrusts get sloppier. The pleasure has now turned you into a crying mess and you could do nothing but let him ram his dick into you. “What would Jaehyun think when he sees you beneath me like this?” he leans forward to tell you. Even though he is extremely close to reaching his own climax, he forces himself to keep the rhythm steady, determined to make you reach yours first.

“You’re mine. I’m gonna keep you like this forever.” he says. From the gratifying hum that just escaped your lips, he is convinced that you have surrendered to the thought. And with a few more thrusts, your eyes roll back as you grasp for something to ground you. He grabs a tight hold on your hips, nails digging into your skin to keep you from escaping your orgasm. 

He watches you come undone, feeling your walls clam down on his cock. He can’t help but completely stand still, observing your trembling body. He leans down and whispers “Don’t move”. 

You twist your head to catch a glimpse of him, your gaze awkwardly angled to the side. With each passing moment, his sense of relief grew, sensing your surrender. He could feel the weight of your defeat and the shame of realizing you were powerless against it. How pathetic, he thinks to himself.

“Look at you.” he growls as his hips start to move again, pounding his length in and out of you. 

“I can break you so easily” He released a deep, guttural groan. Soon enough, you feel his cock twitch against your walls as he starts to fill you, making certain that his cum is securely pushed in the depths of your womb. Slowly, he pulls his softening dick out with such precision that not a droplet dares to spill out of you.

"You belong to me now" Haechan remarks, his smile carrying an unsettling edge,  recognizing the helplessness in your eyes. The gleam of amusement in his expression was unmistakably genuine.

At this very moment, you have given into his deep desires. Haechan finally gets his way after all... like he always does....

[fics-lovebot]

nct fic recs

main masterlist

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

i´ll be constantly updating this list so make sure to check it out often for new recs ;)))

pls remember to reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

poly

mark

whats mine its yours - ft. the dreamies, haechan is tired lmao, an intervention needed to happen bc mark was doing the most, he´s just awkward and in love tbh, trying to be a real gentleman bc reader is drunk, they´re into each other a lot but mork is just a nervous drunk mess, cuteeee

sex ban - smut, mark it losing it fr dslfkjhlsdh "He wasn't sure if he was just thinking with his dick, but it felt like you were trying to push him to his limit." you deff were lmao

jaehyun

right where i left you - ANGSTY AFFF, cheating au, break up au, no happy ending, this made me cRY AT 3AM!!, it has 2 parts

johnny

yuta

jungwoo

pancakes - dad!jungwoo, pregnant!reader, just another everyday morning with his daughter, it´s cute

doyoung

taeyong

haechan

bus stop - fluff, love at first sight kinda, it´s short but it´s a sweet read

jeno

jisung

jaemin

renjun

chenle

hendery

naughty boy - fluff, suggestive, established relationship, he is proud of his hickeys, goofy ahh

yangyang

ten

xiaojun

winwin

kun

[mochamamii]

mafia!nct: how you meet.

▹ a/n: hello loves, wow two uploads in a day? are you proud of me ? 🤭 it’s been so long since I wrote in the mafia universe! I hope you enjoy this, have a great day or night gorgeous 😘💕

▹ pairing: mafia!nct x reader

▹ triggers: mafia!au, crime, manipulation, violence, light smut

Taeil first meets you at your job. Taeil owns a plethora of companies, both small and large, and all used as a cover to launder and legitimize his behind the scenes criminal activity. You just happened to be a regular girl working at one of these companies, only working in an entry level position at a front desk you would’ve had very low chances of running into someone like Taeil at work. That was true for the most part, it had been at a company wide holiday party nearly two years working at said company before your paths finally crossed. You were tipsy and flirtier than usual that night, completely ignorant to the fact that you’d been chatting up your boss for the better part of an hour. Taeil was intrigued by your forwardness and wanted to keep seeing you. It was fun and exciting for you too, Taeil seemed like such a puzzle to you, he gave you very few details about his life and even fewer about his career. It’d be months after your secret rendezvous begins before Taeil reveals to you he owns the company you work for, and it’d take years for him to ever share that he runs a criminal organization under the table, if he ever actually did, because if he can get away with not telling you he won’t.

“Why do you always ask so many questions baby? Why don’t we just enjoy our time together and we can talk about my job another day…”

Johnny meets you at a nightclub. Because of the dangers involved in his line of work he’s become a shut in more or less, only going out when it’s absolutely necessary. He’d take drinking at home with friends over a noisy club but his associates and him had been having a string of successful pushes in the expansion of their clan. There was much to be celebrated. You were there with a group of friends also that night, out to celebrate a friend’s birthday. Johnny took notice of you right away. Shameless in his ogling of you, his eyes were fixed on you alone in the sea of bodies on the dance floor. He approached you with a pep in his step to offer you a drink which you accept, afterwards you offer him a dance which he accepts. On the dance floor your hands eagerly grip and squeeze at each other’s bodies. You two spend the night together that first night, a fairly brief and passionate situationship ensues after night one. For months your relationship with Johnny feels purely sexual, there’s not much about him or his life that you really know and he never seems eager to share. Johnny drags his feet on cuffing you officially for fear of involving an innocent person in his life.

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’ve always had serious feelings for you. The only thing stopping me was wanting to keep you safe.”

Taeyong meets you after one of his associates dragged you into his warehouse. Apparently, you had been the witness to his crew “taking out the trash” as some would say…Instantly upon seeing you Taeyong realized you really were just an innocent girl who had been in the wrong place at the right time and not a secret spy from a rival. He pitied you. You had seen his face and plenty of the others faces’, releasing you could be risky but keeping you here was tiresome and more of a chore. Taeyong decided he would give himself a few days to decide what he wanted to do with you, he let you go home, under heavy surveillance of course. He needed to know if you were going to try and run to the police and snitch on anything you’d seen so far. Taeyong starts visiting your home in the evenings, he told himself it was a strategic intimidation tactic to keep you from calling the cops. Truthfully, Taeyong just wanted to be near you. He’d become really drawn to you, his visits getting longer and longer as he gets to know you better. It’s a nice slow burn before your relationship turns romantic. Taeyong is actually grateful he had met you in the manner he did, it was refreshing to start a relationship and wonder whether he should tell them about his career. You knew from the start, and that made courting you a guilt free indulgence for him.

“You know more about me than most people do. I like that and I want it to stay that way, I promise there’s nothing I’ll ever keep from you.”

Yuta meets you during the middle of a heist of all places. In his crew he was the go to man for high intensity missions like bank heists, and assassinations occasionally. You were on your way home from work when you made a stop to deposit your paycheck into your account. Your corporate slave job had yet to transition to the twenty first century and go digital with their payroll system. You were stuck with paper checks for now. Your interaction with the bank teller across from you was almost done when you jumped due to the fire alarm suddenly going off. The alarms went off followed by the sprinklers on the ceiling, creating a heavy downpour, drenching you and everything else. Yuta and his gang strolled in confident as ever, heavy machine guns in tow. They were the picture of frightening nightmares. Yuta made it known he was clearly in charge, barking orders at his crew, all of them moving in harmony. They cleared the bank’s reserves in minutes, sweeping the vaults like they knew the floor plan by heart. Yuta floated over to you as his crew began piling the bags of cash into their van. Yuta caught you hiding under a table near the back. He thought you were absolutely adorable the way you looked at him in fear. He pulled you from under the table to get a better look at you, he gave you a quick two second once over before nodding with a content hum and tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed and squirmed to get down but he only held you tighter spewing out nonsense like he had decided to keep you for a little bit.

“Stop squirming so much bunny…I’m not that scary am I?”

Doyoung meets you through a match maker interestingly enough. Doyoung was born into an infamous crime family, arranged marriages between associates was a common practice for families like Doyoung’s. As Doyoung begins to take the reigns from his father he knows a marriage is on the horizon he’d need to find a match from another strong clan to join forces with. You happened to be the daughter of not a fellow mob boss, but a wealthy man who earned his wealth legitimately.. As an only child your parents were eager for you to settle down and give them some heirs so you went to a matchmaker for help. By fate you and Doyoung had been paired together, he was introduced to you as your average successful businessman. The attraction was there immediately and a relationship between you two quickly blossomed. It was easy, you both had similar ambitions and goals. You fit together perfectly from the start. Doyoung isn’t sure he’ll ever reveal to you his real job, why should he when things are already great between you two?

“I never thought I’d meet someone this way, but I’m glad I did. I’m glad I met you, my other half.”

Jungwoo meets you through a mutual acquaintance. He was in the market to buy a second property, it would be a safe house for himself and other people close to him. He had a friend who recommended Jungwoo contact you. He was a busy man who needed a realtor to find the perfect location for him, that’s where you come in. You’d sold a number of properties to Jungwoo’s friend already who made sure to give him a stellar review of your work. Jungwoo was running out of time and his friend had convinced him well enough so he called you. Upon the first meeting in person Jungwoo was struck by your beauty. He forced himself to remain professional not wanting to be distracted. You’d begun working for Jungwoo for months at this point, sending him several properties you’d found throughout the week. It didn’t matter what you sent him, he always seemed so unimpressed and displeased with what you’d shown him. You were growing annoyed and worried that you’d never find a property he would close on. Truthfully, Jungwoo loved nearly every listing you showed him, he loved spending time with you even more. He wasn’t ready to close on something quite yet, he wasn’t ready to stop spending time with you, he liked talking to you. Jungwoo’s crush on you grows more every day, eventually he has no choice but ti confess his feelings after you nearly threatened to quit if he refused to finally close on a property.

“I just needed any excuse to be close to you, that’s where I’d always rather be.”

Mark meets you at the hospital. You were working an overnight shift. You were in your third year of residency, working under the guidance of your seniors. That night was like any other night until the doors of the receiving dock flew open and paramedics quickly wheeled a wounded man on a stretcher inside. You were among the staff called to attend to him. You learned from the paramedics that he had been in some kind of shootout. You helped assist the surgeons during surgery as they removed any bullet fragments still remaining. The man remained in the hospital until he was well enough. During this time you cared for him everyday, cleaning and dressing his wounds, checking his vitals, etc. Mark recovers quickly, he’s upset with himself for caving and going to a real hospital, it was a risky move but his clan’s only private doctor was preoccupied and the severity of his injuries definitely called for medical attention. The only good thing that came out of risking getting his identity exposed was the cute nurse who was in charge of caring for him. He was attracted to you and it wouldn’t be long before he asked to take you on a date. You say yes to his offer and the rest is history. Mark won’t outright admit to what he does over time you come to find out on your own.

“You don’t need to know everything about me just yet, I don’t want to scare you off so soon…”



Haechan meets you at a restaurant. He’s having a celebratory dinner with his clan, at the restaurant you waitress for. As luck should have it you were the one picked to serve the loud rowdy bunch of drunk men. Surprisingly the bulk of them left you to do your job without any pushback from them. All except one. The one who sat himself at the head of the table, Haechan. He couldn’t keep his eyes and hands off of you all night. Every time you walked by he’d wink at you from afar and when you were close enough he’d try to pull you into his lap. You were used to serving drunks of all kinds and had your fair share of customers trying their best to flirt with you, Haechan was the most aggressive customer you’d ever had. Haechan was diligent and persistent, he didn’t press further that night and made sure you were tipped well. You thought you had seen the last of Haechan but you were so wrong. Haechan came in almost every day after he first saw you, always requesting you as his waitress. You were uninterested and ignored his advances every time but Haechan could appreciate a challenge.

“That’s fine, ignore me now…I’ll come in every day until you respond beautiful.”

[goroaix]

〘 As eligible of a bachelor as he was, there was nothing more interesting to him than a certain foreign diplomat.〙

Hendery x gn reader. Yandere themes and general lack of consideration for someone else's feelings. ! not a reflection of who he is irl !

♕ It was hardly a secret that Kunhang was reaching the age where betrothal was on the horizon - something closer to reality than a fantasy that had seemed so distant in its implausibility. He was the prince of this empire, of course, but he was also a bachelor (as his mother so often pointed out).

♕ He used to dread It. The idea of being with someone he barely knew, of having to awkwardly shuffle around the fact that he would always be their superior even when the dynamic should have made them equal. Looking for a spouse was hardly in his list of favourite activities, and neither was looking through the choices his mother had.

♕ If she were to have it her way, he would have married at 18 to a distant heir of the land. His mother, as much as he loved her, hardly understood the intricacies of romance. But, could he blame her? Kunhang, himself, hardly understood what it meant to feel this thick pool of desire and want until he'd attended a ball in the neighbouring country of Kheya just last year.

♕ It had been like every other ball, something he attended out of obligation and because his sisters didn't particularly want to attend. As the youngest, he had to hold tight on to the short end of the stick no matter how thorny.

♕ And who was Kunhang if not the dutiful younger brother? The one that saw his sisters as the young women they were with the burden of the world on their shoulders. He didn't want to add to this weight, to have them sag under his incompetence.

♕ He'd smiled, waved and was polite to everyone and everyone that glanced his way. People flirted, gossiped and said things that he didn't understand. Nevertheless, he persisted.

♕ Kunhang turned to the buffet table, gazing at the pastries on display with his heart set on something sweet but not too sweet. But he didn't know what was what and he didn't quite have the heart to ask someone.

♕ "Are you having trouble deciding?" You'd asked and Kunhang turned, eyes falling on one of the most beautiful people he had ever seen. Your features were foreign to him though no less gorgeous. Every soft little curve, the slope of your nose and the delicate beauty mark here and there, caught his eyes.

♕ "A little," he had managed to say, feeling like his throat was suddenly parched and the hours of fruitless speech had caught up to him. "I wanted to try something sweet."

♕ Your eyes looked over the table before gently picking up a fried pastry with a serviette, the dough chewy and deliciously familiar. It was exactly what he'd wanted. "This is Binangkal. It's extra delicious with some tea," you informed in this way that felt genuine rather than condescending. "It's one of my favourites."

♕ He could hardly call himself one for pointless idle chatter when it wasn't required. Even so, he found his lips moving, glossy from his food. "Are you from here?"

♕ "I'm here on business," and your reply was vague enough to make him want more, to sink his teeth into the flesh of your cheek while he pretended it was this new and tasty dessert he had in his hands.

♕ (Kunhang was sure you'd taste even better.)

♕ He took the bait. "What kind?"

♕ "I don't want to bore you while you eat."

♕ The corners of his cheeks started to ache with how hard he was trying not to smile. It was so stupid to be thrilled by this small exchange. It was hardly anything crazy, either.

♕ Did you know he was a prince?

♕ "You're not boring me. May I know your name?"

♕ he memorised the syllables, mouthing them to himself until they'd engraved themselves into his DNA, wound into the very fabric of his being.

♕ "And you?"

♕ "Wong... Hendery."

♕ "A lovely name." So you didn't recognise him. "Have you also travelled in?"

♕ He took another bite, the dough still warm in the centre. "Am I so obviously a tourist?"

♕ "A little," you smiled and he just wanted to bask in it. Was it stupid to like someone so fast? (The answer was unimportant.) "Don't worry. It happens to the best of us. The first time I was here, I ate unripe jackfruit and had an upset tummy for three days."

♕ It was through some careful dancing, the kind that involved a mental goalpost for the conversation: your name, your job, and where you were from.

♕ There was no such luxury as growing up in the royal court and remaining ignorant. I'm a world of murder or be murdered, the poison always had to remain in his chalet to distribute.

♕ And, through just an hour of conversation beside the table, his eyes on your lips as you licked away delicate crumbs and droplets of sweetened tea, he found out all that he wanted to know.

♕ You were close to his age but experienced. 'A diplomat,' you'd shared, who specialised in 'facilitation of trade and human resources.' Just hearing you talk about it had him fantasising about things that were too forward - too fast.

♕ Just from the way you gestured, how you spoke, Kunhang could tell that you were assured in your capabilities. Someone like you was incredibly valuable just from a political standpoint.

♕ What little hunger he had in his stomach had been replaced, coaxed into something larger, more voracious.

-

♕ To protect his people was his sworn duty. He had to be aware of the important and influential figures that moved in and out of the country. Hence, ordering a detailed background check on you was hardly concerning.

♕ Everything from your institution of education, family, tax compliance, previous jobs and even your favourite food had been noted down for him by the palace scribe.

♕ No less than excruciating detail would be presented. Kunhang made sure of it.

♕ "What do you think, Jiejie?" He asked, eyes wide and shiny like a dolls. How could someone say no to him?

♕ He was their baby.

♕ The eldest two exchanged glances. He'd learnt by now to decipher these looks with pinpoint accuracy and his heart felt fit to burst.

♕ "They're a good choice," the youngest sister of the three said, her nod of approval punctuating her sentence. "I think Mama and Baba will be happy to hear about this."

♕ After what better way to save their grey hairs than to find himself a spouse?

-

♕ There was no way he could lie under another false pretence. Meeting you for the umpteenth time at these social gatherings was far from coincidence, and you were smarter than to think so.

♕ "I have a feeling there's something you want to ask me."

♕ You were right. When weren't you? Kunhang had calculated that atleast 86% of all of your proposed ideas had gone through to be a success.

♕ "Would you be willing to negotiate jade trade between your country and mine?" He asked, proposing this faux call to action that he had only half an intention to stick by. "I've been wanting to speak to you about this."

♕ "I see." Then you laughed, and he thought he'd lose composure there and then. "I was waiting for His Highness to say something along those lines."

♕ "You knew? Why didn't you say so?"

♕ "I thought it would be rude to not let you have your fun."

♕ This was nothing short of unfair. Not in the traditional sense. He'd be foolish to think you'd be blinded for long.

♕ No. It was unfair because all he could think of was how nice it would feel to kiss you, to throw inhabition to the wind and let himself act out of want rather than strict regulation. Sometimes, the feeling of his nails digging into his skin was the only thing grounding him from blurting out something he would regret.

-

♕ To be honest, your to-be-spouse was none of his concern. Kunhang hadn't even blinked when his servant had informed him of such, telling him that they had proposed just a week before you were due to arrive at the palace.

♕ Instead, the only thing that had come of it was the knowledge that he needed to act in haste. Everything was meticulously filed and sorted, the contracts ready to be brought to life.

♕ It was nothing short of torture to hide his smile as he changed the terms of the contract to better suit them both. Trade would be easier when both parties were aligned in matrimony. This was politically beneficial, he told himself.

♕ Marrying a diplomat would strengthen their country's bond and knew that it was one of the better choices for a spouse he could make. There was nothing appealing to him about wedding a person who had no navigational, or real world skills. To him, there was no worse moral failure than being useless.

♕ He dressed to the nines, using a hanfu that had been specifically made to order in advance for this occasion. His engagement clothes were royal in red, embroidered heavily with a red sash that wound snuggly around his body. Kunhang had requested you wear your finest clothes, and he knew you'd listen.

♕ He knew your proficiency in spoken Cantonese was far from what it could be, let alone the written version that only natives really used and understood. It was easy to get away with it, to bite the inside of his cheek raw and pinch his thigh over his clothes while you signed your name and wove that red string around both of your souls.

♕ Maybe he should have felt remorse upon seeing your confused expression at the congratulations - his sister's and parents teary eyed at the sight of their only son finally married to someone that would help him prosper. The youngest and the most fragile was now in good hands.

♕ But you'd kept a sweet smile on your face regardless, ever poised. Oh. How he loved this trait of yours.

♕ Hardly anyone ever had a bad word to say about you and this was why. He couldn't feel anything other than pride.

♕ "I think there's been a mistake," you murmured, fingers gripping tightly onto the paper he'd given you - translated in your language with the altered version of what you'd just signed. "We were supposed to sign a business partnership, Your Highness."

♕ "I prefer Qin ai de."

♕ For the first time since he'd met you, you looked confused and at a loss for words. It made him want to pinch your cheeks.

♕ "I'm sorry, I'm confused."

♕ And he was happy to explain. "It's okay. I know it's a new thing to get used to, but the contract has no mistakes. We're married now!"

♕ "What? What do you mean...? I am already promised to someone back home."

♕ Your composure cracked, fine lines appearing under the pressure.

♕ Nonetheless, Kunhang had quite the hand at pottery. They didn't matter. They'd never matter. Who could compare to the prince of an empire? And who could deserve you more than himself?

♕ "I can't- I can't accept this, I apologise. I had no idea. I didn't mean to sign something like this-"

♕ "Will you contest it?"

♕ He hated being stern. There was nothing that gnawed at him more than having to bring out this part of himself that he preferred to keep burrowed in the depths. Kunhang liked playful, upbeatness that kept his spirits high. This was their wedding day, and he didn't want to hear any objections to something he'd so meticulously planned.

♕ "...Your Highness, I must leave."

♕ "If you leave, I'll take it as a declaration of war." Your movements stilled, muscles tensed. "We both know your economy can't handle such a blow."

♕ But, he was no monster. He couldn't bear to turn a blind eye to the frustration in your eyes. You poor thing. From now on, he'd kiss away all your tears and make sure that your talents were recognised with the reverence they deserved.

♕ He'd cup your face in his hands and look into those endless eyes of yours. The heartbreak would ease eventually.

♕ After all, your king wouldn't mind exchanging one person for the masses.

[thetypingpup]

Off Script: Part 2

banner by @yujaemna

Link to Part 1

​Pairing: The Legion!Xiaojun x Yan!Survivor!Female Reader

AU: Dead by Daylight

Genre: smut, horror

Wordcount: 13.6K

Content: graphic violence and death (xiaojun is a killer in this so), reader is turned on by violence, sadomasochism on both sides, knife play, body worship, praise, dirty talk, sweet talk, petnames (sweetheart, baby, my dear), oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), dom!Xiaojun sub!reader but the powerplay fades towards the end, unprotected sex, scratching (male receiving), biting (female receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, missionary, aftercare ofc, yandere content (including stalking, obsession, and possessiveness)

Taglist: @mint-yooxgi, @mrkis, @hall0ween-twn, @i0799s, @jenoslutie, @yujaemna

Absence makes for an obsessive heart. 

Five trials have passed since you’ve last seen Xiaojun. Five fucking trials, of being chased around various locations, all by killers that aren’t him. Though the endless night makes it impossible to gauge the duration of those trials, you just know that it’s been far too long for your liking. The irritable itch of impatience festers beneath your skin as you awaken in yet another expanse of tall, dead grass. You squint against the blaring flash of red and blue that marks police cars in the distance, though the sirens are completely silent. Perhaps they have been frozen in time, caught in that stretch of silence between the sirens’ blare, like the tension of the chest before an exhale. You don’t know, and you don’t care, because there’s no guarantee that you’ll see him this round. 

You wander through Lampkin Lane in search of generators. You told the others that splitting up would be safer, and covering more ground would help open the exits faster, or lead to the discovery of the hatch hidden on the map. In truth, you can’t even bear to be near anyone that isn’t him. The race for survival doesn’t matter if you aren’t running alongside him. 

You meander from building to building to find those red engines you need to power, letting your mind wander as you pass through the monotonous arena. The houses are all the same. The layout of every dwelling on the street is almost identical, with the rooms arranged in similar layouts. From the dark layers of tile on the roofs, to the porches that show the beginning signs of decay, it’s all the same. The only variation to be found is in each house’s choice of dull pastel paint color outside and peeling wallpaper within. The boundaries of each property are marked with the same dark hedges and the same chipping white picket fences. This terrain is far too monotonous to be enjoyable, merging together in a uniform blur as you pass through, which makes it easy for you to let your mind drift to thoughts of Xiaojun.

How you wish it was him following you through this map. How you wish to feel that zip of excitement rush through you and leave goosebumps in its wake. You yearn for him in every way. Your body yearns to feel his hands once more, touching and caressing every part of you. You yearn to feel his lips against yours and on all of your sensitive spots. There’s still so many he has yet to discover. You yearn to feel him deep inside of you, joined as one in the most intimate of ways as he thrusts deeper than anyone has before. You yearn to feel the warmth of his release spilling inside you as if claiming you with his seed. Just the thought has your eyes sliding shut as you ruminate. 

Now that he knows your name, you want to hear him say it over and over again, in carnal shouts of lust and in clandestine whispers of affection. You long to press kisses over the planes of his gorgeous face and witness him melt under your touch. You long to stare into his eyes and feel the intensity of his gaze in return. Even a glimpse of his mask would be a welcome sight.

Shrill screams bring your attention back to the arena. On instinct, you duck down and out of sight, hiding beneath the window in the house you sought refuge in. You count two distinct cries of anguish sounding off in quick succession, as if they’ve been struck one right after the other in a singular chase. Wait, you know that technique. You recognize that speed. Could it be him?

Your heart starts to pound audibly, getting louder by the second. The heaviness in your heart, the tangible rush of blood coursing through your veins, tells you that the killer is nearing. Your muscles tense, preparing to run and hide in the first direction your eyes lock onto. Your chest rises and falls more rapidly by the moment, and you carefully peek through the shadows to see if you can identify the killer. A smile lifts your lips as soon as you catch a glimpse of that smile crudely scrawled onto that oh so familiar white mask.

He’s here! Xiaojun is here!

Judging by the volume of your racing heart, he’s right outside the house you’re in, sneaking through the backyard. Glee bubbles to the surface in the form of warmth on your cheeks and a tingle in your hands. Finally, you get to see him again! Your mind already takes off, sprinting through a whirlwind of thoughts. Does he remember you? Of course he does. How could he forget? He did say that he’s yours after all, right? Should you let him know that you’re here? Should you hang back and let him find you? Would he come looking for you?

You decide to watch as he corners someone in the backyard right outside the window. A scoff has a rush of air puffing from your nose before you can stop it. This poor soul didn’t stand a chance, stupidly running right into some of the junk piled in the backyard and cornering themselves. You never would’ve made such a stupid mistake, and in the back of your mind, you hope he’s thinking about how you would’ve evaded him with ease. With a single swipe of his knife, your fellow mortal is knocked to the ground, blood splattering from the grizzly gash on their arm. You feel that match strike of arousal spark right up your spine, the sparks flaring right between your legs, as you watch him mount the poor human onto one of those dastardly hooks.

You barely pay any heed to the wriggling form of who’s supposed to be your companion. All you can focus on is the fact that Xiaojun is close enough to easily see you if you move, his attention only diverted to glide his blood-stained knife over his sleeve. Now’s your chance! Without thinking for another moment, you vault through the open window, leaping right toward the hook and hoisting your teammate off of it.

“Go, run!” You sharply whisper to them, and a moment later they’re scurrying off into the night. You see the killer pause at the sound of your voice, stunned, as if he can’t believe you’re actually here. A moment later he brandishes his knife, the blade reflecting the red and blue glare of the patrol car lights. Warmth blooms in your chest as your eyes meet, and you can feel him meet your gaze even through the holes poked in his mask. Then, with a sly smile, you take off through an opening in the hedges and right into the street, breaking through a barrier of yellow tape. The rush of air you hear behind you tells you he’s following right on your heels.

This new map gives you a new idea, and you wonder if he’s up for the challenge.

Dashing to the nearest house, you scale the gutter rail on the side, shimmying up to the roof. To your delight, you see him climbing the side of the building right behind you, finding footing in the ramshackle tiling on the wall. As soon as you hop onto the roof, he’s right behind you, and your heart races faster as you sprint towards the edge. 

You have two choices now; drop into the backyard and race across the ground, or jump across the grassy gap and onto then next roof. He’s following fast, hot on your heels, so close that your sleeve gets ripped by the slashing arch of his blade. Thinking fast, you leap across to the next roof, landing on your feet. To your elation, he follows right behind, and it takes everything in you not to swoon at the show of athleticism. 

The red and blue flashes below pass by in a blur as you hop from roof to roof. The tiles clatter noisily underfoot, some of the panels knocked out of place by your racing feet and sliding down the inclines. You make it to the end of the lane, with Xiaojun following close behind. He stays just a few paces back, just far enough to give you the advantage for now. But you know at any moment he can rush you with a burst of speed that’s unique to his technique, and that’s exactly what you want. You want to feel the sudden impact of him pressing against you, leaving you cornered in the blink of an eye, brought back to center with the cold press of his blade right against your heated skin. The thought of him finally catching you excites you more than anything, and it’s with this thought that you slip through the rooftop window on the house you just landed on, knowing that he’ll go where you lead him.

Your shoulder blades meet the wall in a sudden rush of speed as he presses you back against it, just hard enough to drive the point home that he’s won this game of chase. He only needs one hand by your head to cage you against the wallpaper, to halt you in your tracks and let him corral you. You bite back a moan at the cold press of his knife against your neck, the warmth of his body so enticingly close to yours, and the slick edge to his voice that cuts deeper than any blade, “Did you miss me?”

“Sure did. Took you long enough, by the way.” You breathe out with relieved elation, smiling at the sight of that white mask.

“I told you I’d see you again, sweetheart.” He slowly runs the edge of the blade along the high point of your neck, just barely grazing your jawline as he glides it along, “Still giving me a run for my money, I see.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you eye the weapon, a soft giggle bubbling between your lips, “I can’t help it. It’s too much fun.”

“What do you say we have some fun of our own, hm? Make up for lost time?” He slyly suggests, his other hand sliding down the wall and onto your side.

“How about this?” You reach out and toy with the zipper of his hoodie as if you’re about to take it off, fiddling with the metal bit in your hand, “I bet there’s at least one person still alive in this arena. Take them out, make sure it’s just the two of us here, and then we can have some fun.”

The slight tremor in his voice portrays his interest, “Ooh, I like that. How long do I have?”

You furrow your brows, “What do you mean?”

“C’mon let’s make this interesting. Gimme a time limit.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot, practically shuddering with excitement.

“Ok uhm…” Thinking quickly, you decide the terms of this little wager, “You have three minutes to find and hook the last person, and I won’t give you any hints on where they might be.”

“I bet I can do it in two.” He cuts in, and you can hear the eager smile he’s surely wearing behind his mask.

“Then do it in two.” You nod in agreement, “And if you win, I’ll let you do whatever you want with me.”

He leans in with a playful chuckle, “Whatever I want? You’re giving me a lot of power here, sweetheart.”

You stare right into the openings where his eyes are with an earnest gaze, “I trust you.”

The light playfulness fades ever so slightly as something a bit heavier fills the void. Even his knife, which was dangerously pressed against your most prominent vein, is now safely tucked in the seam where your jaw meets your neck. With his other hand he tightens his grasp on your waist, as if wordlessly telling you that you can indeed trust him. You’re quick to restore the lighthearted atmosphere with a flippant remark, “I mean, I definitely trust you more than the idiots I got stuck with this round.”

He scoffs, and even though you can’t see it, you can tell he must be rolling his eyes, “They were pathetic this time around. It’s not much of a game if they make it too easy.”

“Well then, go finish them off so we can have some real fun. Your time starts…” You lean in, so close you can almost feel the ceramic of his mask, “Now!”

With a burst of speed, he flies through the window, landing with a tuck and roll on the grass below. You follow along, hopping from rooftop to rooftop after him. From your vantage point you can see more of the map, noting the exit door that marks the end of Lampkin Lane and the gray fog that looms beyond the gate. You make yourself comfortable on the edge of the roof, watching for Xiaojun to make his final kill.

Lucky for him, the final person makes it easy. Limping towards the exit, a trail of their own blood stains the dark grass and leads Xiaojun right to them. The person desperately reaches out and grasps the lever beside the door, tapping their foot impatiently as the mechanism slowly activates.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, open!” You hear the emphatic murmur of this last person, watching them fidget as if their heart is about to leap out of their chest. You clutch the edge of the roof, leaning over as far as you can, eyes straining to search the shadows for Xiaojun. Your heart hammers in your chest, even faster than this last remaining soul, anticipation tensing your muscles as you lie in wait.

Their strained hope is short lived, for Xiaojun emerges from the darkness while their attention is on the switch. He follows the trail of blood slowly, closing in, knowing he has the person completely trapped. They know he’s right behind them, their heartbeat pounding loudly in their ears. You see them tremble helplessly, pressing down harder on the flipped switch, as if that will activate the door faster. You know from experience that their attempt is futile, which only makes their misplaced hope captivating to witness from afar. Xiaojun advances slowly on the soon to be victim, almost casually, letting dread pool viscously in the pit of their stomach. He knows they have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, which lets him compel cortisol seep almost painfully into their bloodstream. 

Xiaojun lies in wait, watching the progress of the door opening like awaiting the end of a countdown. You’re all but squirming in place as you wait for him to make a move, pulses of arousal emanating from between your legs.

Right before the door opens, Xiaojun cuts them down, rushing them before they have the chance to think. With their hand still clutched tightly to the switch, they scream in pain as they fall to the ground. Their fingers uncurl from around the switch as they’re forced to relent their grasp, only for the door to slide open a moment later. Watching the killer wield his blade with such precision, seeing him elicit such cries of agony, only enlivens your erotic want. You look on as he drags the helpless soul to the nearest hook, and in the next moment, the curved metal spears through muscle and bone with an audibly wet crunch. The person is silenced, and a moment later, the clawed essence of The Entity spears the body with shadowy talons and lifts them away, growling as it accepts the sacrifice. Xiaojun looks up in your general direction, and you wink at him before slipping into the house, knowing that he’ll follow.

To your surprise, instead of scaling the side of the house and climbing the roof, he enters through the front door. Brows furrowed curiously, you faintly make out the sound of running water from the kitchen sink downstairs. There must’ve been more blood than you could see from your vantage point. 

He doesn’t give you much time to ponder before he’s racing up the stairs, panting from the effort of sprinting for so long. He inquires excitedly as he catches his breath, “How long was that? Two minutes?”

“Just about.” You nod, and though you weren’t exactly timing, it felt like no time passed at all, so he must be right. You smile at the evident elation that emanates from him, “You seemed to have fun.”

“It’s nice to build up the fear a little bit, especially when there’s nowhere to run. Still, it’s not as fun as running after you.” He tells you as he steps closer, taking a step forward as you step back, letting you lead him further into the room.

“Is that so?” You hum, your smile widening at his words.

“It is. With you, the adrenaline rush is much more satisfying. I can always count on you for a real thrill.” He emphatically insists, sending a shiver down your spine. He eyes you up and down and notices how flustered you are, commenting with a soft chuckle, “And from the looks of it, you had fun too.”

“I really like watching you work.” You admit, not taking your eyes off his masked face for a moment.

“Is that so? And what do you like about it?” He mirrors your hum with a murmur of his own.

“It’s exhilarating, watching you work. It’s like watching a hunter pursue their prey.” You explain, and you realize that the way he advances towards you is not unlike what you just described, and your breath hitches as it dawns on you.

“Hmm, I should’ve known you’d be into that sort of thing. You’re just as kinky as ever.” He says, and you hope he felt the same tingle of titillation you just did.

“There’s a lot that I’m into, a lot that you’ll find out in due time.” You assure him, and your footsteps halt as your shoulder blades meet with the nearest surface, which happens to be the bedroom wall. He grasps your waist and pulls your hips towards him, and you welcome his advance, winding your arms around his neck. 

Pressed against the peeling wallpaper, your heart pounds as he steps closer and gruffly remarks, letting his teasing veneer dissipate, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you, about us.”

Though your reply is slight, your eyes shine with elation, “Really? I’ve taken over your mind that much?”

“I told you, I can’t get enough of you. Every spare second I got, I thought of you.” As he speaks, his hands trail down your sides, his touch languid with sensual intent, “I thought about how I can’t wait to feel this pretty mouth of yours again. I thought about being between your legs and tasting you again. I thought about making you come undone with my cock and just how fucking good you feel around me.”

“Sounds like you were just thinking about fucking me.” You huff out a laugh and playfully roll your eyes.

He halts and falls silent, head lifting as if affronted by your words. Before you have a chance to be concerned he steps more surely on his feet, the atmosphere instantly different.

“I was thinking about far more than that.” He tugs off his mask, and the sound of it falling to the ground is barely heard over the beating of your hearts. He leans in so close you can feel just how soft his silver hair is upon your skin, and you’re faced with the unbridled sincerity in his gaze, “You, are so much more than that.”

He cradles your face with a tenderness you didn’t think was possible for anyone to exhibit, and caresses your lips with his in the form of deep kisses. He forgoes the pet names for the moment, instead whispering your name softly against your lips between subtle sweeps of his tongue. He strokes the curve of your cheek in time with each kiss, the pad of his thumb running right over the epicenter of heat on the apples of your cheeks. 

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. This surge of such earnest affection is as overwhelming as it is unexpected, and you love every moment of it. Winding your arms tighter around his neck, you pull him closer, mirroring his kisses to show him you feel exactly the same way. He hums at this, and the sound is low and resonant enough to thrum through your mind. Your fingers sneak around to the edge of his hood and tug it off, running through his silken strands of frosted silver a moment later, and he hums indulgently at your soft touch.

He stops after some time and simply embraces you, letting you both have a moment’s reprieve from such breathless kisses, from such breathless chases. He whispers your name again with all the airy sweetness of cotton candy before his next words have you even more breathless, “Sweetheart, I’m obsessed with you. When I say I can’t get enough of you, I mean that in every way. You don’t know how much I longed just to have you in my arms again, just to be able to kiss you, just to hear your voice. I’m glad you had me kill everyone else first, because I want you all to myself.”

Your breath comes to a halt as you take in his words. All to himself. Obsessed with you. The prospect has you shivering with delight. He presses his forehead to yours and caresses your face, and you feel his impassioned appeal fan out over your lips, “You’ve made me yours. Now let me really make you mine.”

“Please, I want nothing more.” You nod emphatically, your heart beating so fast it all but takes flight in your chest. You’re already his, and the thought of him doing more to claim you as such has you reeling with excitement. With shuffling footsteps, he leads you over to the nearby bed and lays you down over the surface, quickly climbing into bed with you. 

With another sweet kiss upon your lips, he settles on top of you and starts trailing kisses down your neck. His kisses subtly sear your skin with the permanence of a tattoo, and you instantly melt onto the bed sheets. He whispers between kisses, inscribing his words onto your skin, “I’ve been craving you so bad it aches. Every moment away from you has been agony. Not a moment went by when we were apart where I didn’t think about claiming you as mine, over, and over, and over again.”

Fitting his hands to the curve of your waist, he continues, tucking his face into the curve of your neck, “No one else has made me feel as good as you do, and no one ever will. With you, I’ve never felt more alive.”

His teeth sink into your skin, the sharpness of his teeth imprinting intents of pain into your flesh. You sigh out a moan at this, leaning into the pain, leaning into him. You arch up against him, urging him to bite harder, to take more, to claim you completely. 

He continues to speak as he settles beside you, his words groaned out between bites and open mouthed kisses, “I want to give you everything I have, and everything that I am.” 

Heat sparks and flares beneath the surface of your skin until it envelops you with wanton need. Your fidgeting hands make their way to your hooded sweatshirt, unzipping the garment in one smooth motion and letting it part. You shimmy your jeans down just as quickly, and his lips remain on your neck all the while, his hand coming up to caress your thigh once the skin is exposed. He suckles softly on the spot he bit, while his arm drapes over your waist. One of his legs follows suit, draped over you and pulling you against him in one smooth motion. His kisses are so gentle as he traces the column of your throat, biting softly on the spots that make you sigh. He lays beside you, having the time of his life simply making you moan and enjoying his proximity to you. You can feel his cock getting impossibly harder against your leg, the turgid flesh prominent even through his jeans. His mouth soon trails down to the juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, fluttering kisses leaving a titillating trail that has you aching for more.

You giggle at the fluttering warmth of his kisses upon your neck, draping your arms over his shoulders as you reiterate, “You don’t have to be so gentle, y’know. I told you before, you can do whatever you want with me.”

“And I want to make you feel good. We don’t know how long we’ll be separated once you depart, and I want to enjoy you while I can.” He counters, and your breath simply leaves your lungs in one quick exhale at his words.

He had meant to hold off for a while longer, wanting you to relax into his soft touch and tender kisses first. But at your eagerness, he decides to propose how he really means to make you his, “Actually, I have an idea I think we both will enjoy.”

He reaches over and grabs his knife, and immediately you shiver in anticipation. He brandishes the blade by twirling it in his hand with casual ease. You see that the blade is completely clean, glinting stainless silver in the faint light of the bedside table. His eyes hold a similar glint as he inquires, “You said earlier that you trust me. Did you mean that? Do you trust me, sweetheart?”

“Is this a yellow for slow down, red for stop situation?” You ask, keen interest edging your question.

“Only if you want it to be.” He says as he straddles you, legs settling into the bed on either side of your hips. His eagerness is evident, the knife twirling at an almost hypnotic pace in his hand, but he deliberately waits for your word before he proceeds. Staring at the blade, you ponder his offer.

He used his knife on you the last time, and earlier in the evening, but his hardened gaze tells you this will be more intense than a simple press to your neck. You watch the blade spin before your eyes, and your nerves come alive with the need to feel the sharp edge all over your body, to let him explore you in such a dangerous way. You see how expertly he wields the weapon and you long for him to use that skill on you. It suits him more than it has any right to, which only turns you on more. 

“Your eyes are doing an awful lot of talking, but I need your words, sweetheart.” He insists with a smirk, and he abruptly stops the motion of the blade by grasping onto the handle, “Do you trust me to use this on you?”

You nod, shuddering with excitement at the sight of the blade and emphatically agreeing, “I trust you baby, more than anyone.”

The smile he gives you in return mirrors the one drawn onto his mask, wide and crooked with mischievous delight.

“Just,” You pipe up, reaching out to grab onto his wrist, “Don’t pierce the skin, and don’t draw any blood.”

He takes in your request with a nod and softens for a moment. With a kiss to your forehead, he promises that, “I won’t. The only thing you’ll feel, my dear, is ecstasy.”

Your heart flutters at the new endearment, warmth spreading through your chest like a warm hearth. He notices the way you smile and kisses your cheek, “Do you like when I call you that?”

“I do.” You nod with a giddy grin, “I really do.”

The entire air shifts as a more dominant demeanor settles over him. The playfulness is still there, scrawled all across his face, though now it’s mixed with a deliberate intensity that hardens his features ever so slightly. When he speaks, his voice lowers to a smooth, velveteen timbre, and you outright swoon when the point of his blade lifts your chin to meet his gaze, “Then my dear it is. Yellow to slow down, red to stop, and green if I’m doing something you like. Do you understand?”

“I understand.” You’ve never nodded in agreement so quickly in your life, already feeling yourself slip into a more submissive mindset. With a breathless, giddy giggle, you quip, “Now make me yours.”

The tear of fabric reaches your ears, followed by the rush of cool air over your exposed skin. He bares your collarbones by cutting right through your shirt, carving the garment to reveal what lies beneath. He’s careful not to pierce the skin, but you can feel the quick drag and scratch of his blade over your skin as his movements start to become quicker, as his need for you starts to build. It’s the smooth edge, not the serrated side, that makes contact with your skin, and you notice his intent to merely graze your flesh with the blade as he cuts away your shirt. With one final slash, your shirt is fully torn and your chest is fully exposed to him. He’s quick to trace the knife over the sloping swell of your breasts, right along the skin your bra doesn’t cover. 

“Oh how I’ve missed the sight of you.” He all but growls, hungrily gazing down at you with a heated stare. You bask in the way his eyes beam down on you like a spotlight and voraciously rove over your body. His free hand comes up to touch you, following the cold trail left by his knife, fitting to the shape of your breast as he whispers reverently, “You’re easily the most gorgeous person I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

“I hope you know the same goes for you.” You try to reciprocate the praise, but he brings a finger to your lips, gently halting your words.

He grins, sweetly in a way that makes the apples of his cheeks more prominent, though ravenous mischief is present even in his sweet smile. You’re enraptured by the sight all the same, hanging onto his every word as he murmurs, “I appreciate that, my dear. But right now, let me appreciate you. Let me indulge in this bit of heaven in this hellscape.” 

You’re astonished by how easily he wields dominant energy with such suave eloquence. It amazes you, how he sweeps you off your feet with such effortless ease, and you find yourself falling deeper into obsessed infatuation.

You don’t have a chance to be floored by his words before he impatiently cuts your bra right down the middle, wedging the blade beneath the center before tugging it apart at the seams. The garment parts, your breasts fully exposed to the open air, and it takes everything in him not to abandon his plan and just fondle your boobs. As gripped as he is with the urge to lave his tongue all over your breasts and suckle on your nipples, he restrains himself, willing himself to take his time appreciating the enticing sight. Though the excitement that palpitates within him is evident, the wandering stroke of his knife never falters, and his skilled hand remains steady. You notice this and comfortably relax into the bed, trusting him to keep his promise and ensure that you’re never truly harmed.

He runs the knife over your chest, meandering from the jut of your collarbones to the soft swell of your breasts. He circles the very tip of the knife around your nipple, watching you arch up against the coiling spiral of stimulation, and his lips part at the sight. He repeats the action on your other nipple, tongue slipping out as he sees you react the same way. He watches the motion of his silver dagger with rapt attention as he lightly traces your torso with it, as if perusing a work of art to see how each part fits together to form an absolute masterpiece. His brows furrow in concentration as he expends the effort to take in every detail of you, from your breasts, down to your midriff, down to the flare of your hips marked by the line of your panties. He’s especially fascinated by the way your waist gives way to your hips, and the seam where your hips give way to your thighs. He runs his knife over the sensitive skin of those spots, and watches as the action sends shudders fluttering through you. He thinks, as he diligently traces the contour of your body, that he wouldn’t be able to carve something so beautiful if he tried. You’ve exceeded even his wildest dreams, and your erotic reactions only have him more ensnared.

“So beautiful…” His words trail off, and he has to bring himself to center so he can check in with you, “What’s your color, my dear?”

“Green.” You nod, already yearning for more, “Keep going, please.”

Metallic brush strokes are etched along your skin as he admires you, and you subtly arch up into his metallic touch, feeling a distinct craving for more. As promised, he never breaks the skin, but you feel the pressure of the sharp blade amplify in intervals, as if testing just how much the flesh will give way beneath his blade. You shudder as the weapon makes its way above your hips once more, tickling your side with its piercing chill, sending cold sparks of titillation surging from the spot.

“You are truly exquisite.” He muses aloud, his voice taking on a faraway tone of awe. As the blade glides up your body once more, his other hand comes up to cradle your face, and he whispers his next words right in the middle upon your lips, “I mean that. I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you, my dear. I could stare at you forever, touch you endlessly, and still feel like I haven’t taken you in enough.” 

His knife stills for a moment at the base of your neck as he kisses you. Slowly, deeply, he pours all of his fondness into each kiss, taking your breath away in the process. The pointed press of his knife contrasts the soft caress of his hand against your face as he kisses you. You kiss him back, tilting your head to savor every bit of affection before he pulls back once more. Reverently, he mutters against your lips, his forehead resting against yours, “You’re a work of art, my dear, unlike anything the world has ever seen. A work of art that only I get to appreciate.” 

His flowery praise sweetens the sharp edge of pressure that just barely skirts the line of pain he presses into your skin, and it tantalizes you even more. You try your best not to squirm, for one move too sudden as the weapon will abrasively pierce your skin and draw blood. It’s the pensive stillness you have to maintain that makes this so thrilling for you, remaining still while your heart hammers away. You let him wield his blade as he pleases over your body while you lie beneath him, while you trust him to grant you pleasure in exchange for your pliance. To drive the point home, you let your hands rest above your head, a show of vulnerability that makes him visibly swoon.

With a cheeky grin, you invite him to, “Go ahead. Appreciate me to your heart’s content.”

He locks eyes with you, his gaze darkened with perverse lechery, and his next words come out as a moan against your lips, “With pleasure.”

You gasp sharply as the warmth of his mouth replaces the cold kiss of his knife, your breath hitching as you arch up against him. He retraces his steps over your torso with his weapon, only now, his mouth follows the invisible route that he draws. The edge of his blade acts as a graphite point that depicts your torso in its entirety, making an impression of your likeness with long, skilled strokes. He drags the blade across the top of your breast in a single sweeping motion, mirroring a single shade of an artists’ pencil. Your jaw drops this, a loud moan rising between the kiss-swollen pout of your lips, and his cock twitches at the sight of you succumbing to such a sensation. He repeats the action once, twice, three times more, until the skin grows tender beneath the sharp scrape. You all but cry out at this, pleasure pitching your voice and splintering the sound into shrill bits of sensual bliss. He can’t deny the rush of inflicting such pain and seeing you react with such delight, and the satisfaction makes his cock throb in the confines of his pants.

Moving the blade, he gently places a kiss right onto the tender patch of skin, right where your racing heart makes the skin quiver rhythmically. He feels your pulse against the swell of his lips, and it drives him wild with obsessive lust.

“What’s your color, my dear?” He kisses the spot once more, glancing up to gauge your reaction.

“Green, bright green.” You enthusiastically reply, an exuberant sense of joy overtaking you as you surrender to the sensations you feel. You slip further and further into a submissive headspace, and he guides you on your ascent into delirious ecstasy. It’s the way he calls you ‘my dear’ with such fervent ardor that keeps you tethered to this plane of reality.

The kisses and bites he leaves over the rest of your chest are less refined, emitting pure, warm passion that contrasts the frigid caress of his knife. As though shading a sketch, he fills in the portrait of you with heated sucks and sharp bites, coloring in the outline with marks and adding depth to the image. He revels in the fact that only he can suck and lick on your most sensitive spots, that you’re only allowing him to indulge in you so carnally, and that determination only sharpens his bites. He responds to your gasping moans for more, noting the spots he kisses that make your body jolt. He marks them with hickeys, both for reference, and to make you moan louder for him.

Your eyes slide shut as you sink into the euphoric ecstasy that overtakes you. The cold precision of his knife and the warm, unbridled passion you feel from every press of his mouth is a delectable contrast. A mess of lips and tongue and teeth follow every stroke of his knife, the blade remaining meticulously precise while the ministrations of his mouth grow more frantic. You moan unabashedly, not caring how loud or how lewd you sound. You know there’s no one in this entire arena but you and him, which gives you the freedom to sound as debauched as you feel. The rising pitch of your voice and the breathiness that takes over portrays the praise you can’t find the words to bestow upon him. 

You just can’t believe how good he’s making you feel, how perfectly he balances pleasure and pain to create a truly euphoric sense of ecstasy that surges through you in white hot flares. The ache of both become one within you and has your mind reeling with enraptured bliss. With his motions, he gives you that invigorating rush of excitement you so desperately craved, and right now, the adrenaline fueled arousal your feel is beyond anything you could’ve ever imagined. 

By now, you know you’re beyond soaked, your panties sticking to your folds as you take in everything he gives you. You can easily grab his hair and press his face in deeper, run your fingers through the silken strands of silver hair, but you refrain. You let him explore your body at his own pace, reveling in the pleasure and pain he grants you in return, loving the way he keeps you on edge. Besides, letting him exude power like this is beyond hot, especially as you take in the dark look of concentration that crosses his elegant face. You try to keep still so he doesn’t break the skin, truly you do, but the myriad of sensations makes you fidget. Your motions make his knife and sharp teeth press against your flesh more incessantly, the added pain only making you writhe and you love it. 

At long last, he moves down lower, making his way past your navel and down to the meeting of your thighs. Your legs fall open without being prompted, welcoming him between them. The only barrier to your core are the panties that remain on your hips. He lets his blade trace under the edge of the garment, right where it loops around your thigh, and you shudder expectantly, waiting for him to slice it off. But he doesn’t tear a single thread, not until he gets your express permission.

“Would you like me to cut these off?” He inquires, blinking up at you, tenderness seeping into his dark gaze.

“Please…” You all but whine, lifting your hips to the blade to show how much you need him, “Don’t keep me waiting.”

Without another moment of preamble, he snips the side of your panties with a simple flick of his wrist. Impatiently, he tugs it down the rest of the way with his other hand, eager to gaze upon your centre once more. The sight of your pussy is just as wondrous as he remembers, perhaps even more so, his eyes widening as he’s instantly transfixed. He’s drawn closer until his lips latch onto your inner thighs in a series of avid kisses.

“Everything about you is just delicious, my dear.” He groans, pausing to kiss you between each phrase, “Your scent, the way your soft thighs feel around my face, that way this gorgeous pussy quivers for me, makes me wanna fucking devour you.”

With the lecherous hunger in his stare and way he muses about your scent, the hunter comparisons from before are even more apt. You spread your thighs wider as his lips move higher between them, as if slowly closing in on his query and sneaking in a few samplings before tasting what he’s claimed. As if to accentuate the ravenous need welling within him, he closes his eyes and inhales deeply right at the apex of your thighs, breathing in your arousal. 

“Fuck…” His brows hike up and he moans a shameless expletive upon his deep exhale, eyes fluttering at your scent. The lamp that lights the room beams on the high points of his face, highlighting the way his elegant features are etched with predatory intent. His lips curl back in almost a snarl as he takes in the sweet musk of your arousal once more. His hand grasps your hip to keep you close to his face as he breathes you in, as if oxygen can’t sustain him unless it’s been enriched with your arousal.

His tongue slides out to slowly lick between your lower lips, taking in the delicate folds of flesh within. You both let out a simultaneous groan as the wet muscle meets with your heated flesh, both savoring the satisfaction. He keeps his tongue strokes slow, graciously taking in the way your folds flare and give way under his probing tongue. He lingers at your clit with each lick, and pleasure radiates from the sensitive bud with every sweep of his tongue.

“You’re just as delicious as I remember, my dear. I can’t get enough of the way you taste.” You don’t know what affects you more; his words, or the growl-like grunt with which he expresses them. All you know is that he has your breath stilling and your heart hammering in your chest even faster than before. You didn’t think it was possible for him to entice you more, and yet here he is, ensnaring you with such vulgar adoration.

You’re reminded of the presence of the knife when you feel its cold edge against one of your thighs. He suspends you in contrasting sensation once more, the warmth of his mouth offsetting the chill of the blade. His other hand retains his grip on your hip, keeping you in place while giving you enough slack to squirm as you please. The press of the dagger is more than enough to motivate you to stay in place, for every time you arch up, the edge of the blade presses deeper against your flesh, and intensifies the pressure to border on pain.

That exhilarating combination of pleasure and pain overtakes your body and makes you mewl in delight. This time, pleasure far exceeds and overrides the pain, almost overwhelmingly so, and you love every moment of it. Pure erotic bliss emits from your core in spirals as he circles his flattened tongue over your clit. He caps off each spiral with an open mouthed kiss to your clit, sucking the bud between his lips before resuming the pattern once more. Every lick, every suck, every motion of his mouth, kindles a fire that melts away the icy press of his knife and sequesters it to the edge of your perception. All you want is to feel more of his pretty mouth pleasuring you in such exquisite ways, and you arch against the sharp side of his blade to claim more of that pleasure for yourself. You let your enjoyment be known, tossing your head back, shouts of his name mingling with cries of bliss. He takes in your responses with ravenous glee, loving the way your body reacts to him, and only him. The moans he draws from you only envigorate his desire, acting as a pour of kerosine over the intense flames of lascivious fervor that burn within.

The warmth of your thighs pulls him in deeper. The taste of your pussy intoxicates him. The way you chant the syllables of his name like they’re the only sounds you know has his cock aching with need. He indulges in you in the most intimate ways he knows how, tracing your folds and exploring your core with his tongue, yet he still craves more. Merely lying between your legs is not enough to satiate his craving. He wants to be completely entangled in you, totally inebriated by the sensual experience of pleasuring you. And that’s exactly what he sets out to do.

Tossing the knife aside, he tugs you towards him in one sharp motion and winds your legs around his neck. It falls to the floor in a clatter that neither of you hear, for your simultaneous moans drown out the sound. The action pulls your clit further between his puckering lips and presses your heated folds against his face. He groans in satisfaction as your thighs squeeze around him with every such on your clit. Your hips buck against his face, your pussy pressing against his nose, and he likes the way the motion restricts his breath in intervals. The pressure of your legs on his neck and the angle he has to maintain forms the most delectable strain just on the cusp of pain, and he loves it.

Intensifying everything for you both, his hands reach under you and lift your hips off the bed. He groans and clutches onto the curve of your ass, keeping your hips suspended above the mattress. Keeping his lips latched onto your clit, he all but smothers himself between your thighs, shaking his head back and forth as you wail in ecstasy. He keeps you firmly against his face, halting your every move to squirm away from the onslaught of pleasure. A growling groan rumbles deep in his throat as your juices seep from your entrance, and he dips his tongue down to lick up your arousal before going back to ravaging your clit. Your hands reach down to grab at his hair in frantic tugs, desperate to find purchase as you’re sent careening towards the edge of euphoria.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! Xiaojun, please!” You warn him, and from the sound of it, you’re mere moments away from release.

“Cum for me, my dear.” He roughly commands, and your body obeys without a second thought. Eyes rolling back, you buck your hips against his mouth, screaming his name. You jolt with each intense surge of euphoria that wracks your body, fingers slipping through and grabbing at his hair to try and anchor yourself. He stares you down as he works you through it, letting you fuck his mouth to ride out your high. There’s nothing more erotically alluring than the sight of you reaching your peak, than the feeling of you pulsating against him as your release flows onto his tongue wet rushes of heat, and he’ll be damned if anyone else but him gets to experience such a mind blowing marvel. This, is all for him to enjoy.

You fall back onto the bed, chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath. Your eyes fall shut, as the effort to keep them open is too great at the moment. Your every nerve is alight, illuminated by the opalescent afterglow of your orgasm. You’re hyper aware of the quilted texture of the blanket you lay upon, but otherwise, the rest of the room fades from perception as you lie there, the expansion and contraction of your lungs ragged at best. 

It’s the distinct sound of his laughter that grabs your attention. Deep chuckles of smug satisfaction scintillate your senses, fortelling deviant intent and drawing your attention back to center, back to him. You open your eyes and you’re instantly faced with the most bewitchingly wicked grin you’ve ever seen, and your breath is promptly expelled from your lungs at the sight.

“You can’t possibly be tired already, my dear. We’ve barely begun.” His sadistic taunt coincides with the gentle rub of his thumb on your sensitive bundle of nerves, which quivers against the pad of his finger. You choke out a whine, hips twisting under his touch, overwhelmed by the stimulation.

He lifts his head just enough for you to see the dominant lust that clouds his visage, “That’s right, my dear, we’re just getting started. You said I could do whatever I want with you, and I intend to make you cum until my face is dripping with your essence. Then, when you don’t know whether to beg for mercy or beg for more, I’m gonna fuck you until we’re both seeing stars.”

And even though you just came, your pussy clenches around nothing, feeling the craving for more stir within you.

“What’s your color, my dear?” He checks in again, and you’re touched that even in his lust ridden state, his attentive care for you shines through.

“Green.” You reply, already anticipating what he has in store.

He pulls you against him once more, right into two of his fingers. You whimper as he breaches you effortlessly, fingers curled to fit to the contour of your core. Barely giving you a moment’s reprieve, he tugs your hips down to meet the thrusts of his digits, fucking you with his fingers right into the bed. You let him undulate your hips as he sees fit, relenting to the way he rocks your body. Enraptured with ecstasy, you let out a litany of whines and breathy curses as he massages your inner walls, his fingertips brushing against each tender spot he locates. He sinks his fingers in as deep as he can, massaging one of your innermost sweet spots and making pleasure emanate from your core in a bright beam of bliss. Knowing you’re beyond overwhelmed by this point, he takes it up a notch, and circles your pulsing clit with the tip of his tongue. He laughs to himself when you squeal as predicted.

Smiling as you helplessly whine, he urges you on, “That’s it my dear, give in to me. Fuck, you’re doing so well.”

His praise intensifies the light of passion that glows within you, endeared abashment beaming on the surface of your cheeks in the form of incandescent heat. 

“So good for me, my dear, so good.” He continues with a kiss to your clit, moving his fingers faster and laving his tongue over the bud, “You’re absolutely perfect.”

A two pitched whine pushes past your lips as you relish in his fond compliments, his every word increasing the pleasure ten fold and sending you spinning. You reach out to grab onto his wrist, anchoring yourself with the corded thread of his hoodie sleeve. Your parted lips feel empty, longing to feel something, anything against them, longing to feel him even more.

“Please,” You breathlessly plead, tears brimming in your eyes, “Please, kiss me.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and capturing your lips in a series of kisses that sear to your core. Your orgasm builds much quicker than before, and it doesn’t take much before you’re teetering on the edge once again. You moan against his lips, and the louder and breathier your moans, the faster he goes, determined to make you come undone in a matter of moments. Just to add to the frenzied fray of erotic enjoyment, his mouth makes its way back down to your neck, kissing and biting the spots he mapped out before. Your eyes squeeze shut and you whimper at the subtle pricks of pain from his quick nips. Coupled with the subtle sweeps of pleasure from his thumb on your clit, you’re left to desperately wriggle in his grasp as you take everything he gives you. The slick wetness of his fingers slipping in and out of your pussy fills the room, though the sound pales in comparison to the ragged whines that tumble from your lips. He revels in your sounds, greedy to hear more, and he tells you as such, “That’s it my dear, keep moaning for me. Keep whining for me. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel."

He presses his fingers against your most tender spot, and your resounding cry is music to his ears, a gorgeous melody that entrances him like a siren’s call. Your screams of ecstasy are far more enticing than the screams of agony he elicits from his victims, and if these are the only sounds he’s permitted to hear for the rest of his existence, he’d be more than content. Bestowing pleasure and pain upon you in tandem, making your heart race with euphoric bliss, is easily the greatest thrill he’s ever experienced. His cock throbs between his legs as he takes you in, the way your back bows beautifully, the way your thighs shudder and shake, the way your body spasms in his grasp, the way your arousal flows onto his fingers like the nectar of the most delicate flower. More than anything, he loves that he is the one who draws out such gorgeous sounds. He is the one making your beautiful body react this way. He is the one making you feel this good. No one else gets to have you like this, and that rush of possessive lust has him muffling groans into the crook of your neck.

All mine. He growls within his mind, biting you harder than before, sinking his teeth in with enough pressure to surely leave a prominent mark.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, the sharp pain inducing an even more intense rush of bliss than before. Your body convulses, your core clenching around him in fluttering pulses, sucking him in as you desperately ride out your high. The scorch of sensuous delight is almost too much to bear, and you scream uncontrollably as you’re ensnared in an earth shattering rush of rapture. You grab onto him, clutching his arm as if you’ll slip away if you let him go for even a moment. He stays attached to you, his lips latched onto your neck and kissing you all the while. His fingers never stop moving within you, not until the first signs of your slowing breath. His kisses soften as you come down, mirroring the way that overwhelming heat dissolves into a more subtle warmth. 

You expect to be exhausted when your orgasm fades, but instead, you feel invigorated. You roll your hips to feel his fingers that are still buried within you, but you crave the feeling of something bigger. You want his cock. You want him. 

“Please, Xiaojun, I need you to fuck me.” You beg before he has the chance to utter a word, overcome with the urge to feel him stretching you out.

“You need me baby?” His voice lilts playfully as he props himself up on his forearm, slowly removing his fingers from your core. You whine at the loss, but you’re quickly transfixed by the sight of him lifting his fingers to his lips and sucking off your release.

A trail of saliva and slick essence connects his fingers to his mouth as he pulls them back, making the lewd smirk that lifts his lips look even more salacious. Lifting your hips, you move the heavy blanket aside and lay on the linen sheets underneath, not taking your eyes off of the erotic display of revelry for even a moment. He runs his tongue over his lower lip to lick up the last of your release before he teases you, fingertips toying with the zipper of his hoodie, “How bad do you need me? How bad do you need my cock?”

“I don’t think I can wait another moment if I tried.” You shamelessly admit, replacing his fingers with your own to show him just as much you yearn for him. You make quick work of his hoodie, dragging the metal fastening down in one smooth motion. He lets you undo the garment, allowing you to slide it off his shoulders. The gray cloak is tossed aside, and once he lifts his arms to let you slip it off, his shirt soon follows. He lets you undress him, baring himself to you without question. The fleeting touch of your fingertips across his skin arouses him even more, making him even more eager to be inside you. Impatiently, he undoes his jeans and slides them off, the denim rustling noisily as he kicks them off. One smooth toss later, and his jeans and underwear are across the room, and you drool at the sight of his bare body.

If you were stunned when his face was first revealed to you, that’s nothing compared to the astonishment you feel at seeing him naked for the first time. From his toned arms, to his defined pecs, to the delicately carved definition of his abs, his body is a sculpted vision of lithe athleticism. He’s even more magnificent than you could’ve ever imagined, and you find yourself stunned to stillness, barely aware of the rise and fall of your own breath. Your eyes follow the motion of his hand as he wraps it around his cock. He strokes himself as he moves onto his knees, right between your parted legs. You all but drool at the sight, saliva pooling on your tongue the longer you watch his hand slide up and down the turgid flesh you long to feel from within.

“See something you like, sweetheart?” He teases, gently coaxing you from your reverie. 

“I see something I love.” You emphatically assert, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you. He lets you smoothly ease him down as you lay on your back, arranging him on top of you. You lift the loose sheet up over his back, tucking it onto his shoulders, cloaking you both in a curtain of surprisingly soft linen. With the placement of the thin cover over you both, a tender air of passion settles within the confines of the linen sheet, your motions hurried but not as frenzied as you intertwine your bodies. You reach down with the intent to stroke his length and prepare him to enter you, only to be stopped by a shake of his head.

“I’m ready for you.” He insists, fully slotting himself between your legs, “I need you, now.”

In the next moment, the head of his cock presses against your pussy, and already the heated contact has you both needy for more. He presses forward, and your slick folds easily give way as your entrance flares open for him, welcoming him into your innermost intimate space. He takes his time easing himself in to the hilt, and you spread your legs wider to luxuriate in the slick stretch of him sheathing himself completely in you. He only halts when the toned plane of his abdomen meets with your clit, and braces his hands on either side of your head, grounding himself before he gets lost in the all encompassing heat of your pussy.

Looking up at him, you’re amazed by just how beautiful he looks right now. His hair falls over his face, curtaining his regal visage with tresses of frosted silver. You’ve told him before he looks like royalty, and you stand by that assessment wholeheartedly, especially now that you notice the way the lean perfection of his body merges with his pretty face. You still have no idea how someone as charming as him ended up in such a desolate realm, but you’re beyond thankful that you crossed paths. Likewise, he gazes at you with such wonderment, his hand slides onto the curve of your face on its own accord, just compelled to cradle such beauty. He can’t get enough of caressing you, admiring you, taking in your gorgeous allure. Stillness settles over you both, marking your suspension in the stretch of silence between a siren’s blaring. You’re both still in disbelief that you get to have each other like this, but you do. You have him, and he has you, and no one else gets to enjoy the connection you’ve seized for yourselves.

When he moves, he keeps his motions slight, which gives you both the chance to take in the pleasure of your intimate attachment while maintaining the serenity you share. With every languid thrust, you feel every inch of his cock, every vein and ridge and swelling throb, feeling how you stretch to take him in. He slowly sinks into the wet heat of your core, over and over at a leisurely pace, savoring the way you squeeze around him.

“How?” He rasps in astonishment, “Do you feel so fucking good everytime?”

His awe struck observation has you clamping down, clutching onto his cock with a vice-like snare. He lets you suck him in, thrusting according to the whims of your pussy as your walls ripple and draw him in over and over again. As far as he’s concerned, he’s had his moment of control for the night. Now it’s time for him to succumb to show his devotion to you.

He holds you like you’re precious, wrapping his arms around you and cradling you in his embrace. He presses his chest to yours like he’s trying to merge your bodies together as one. He thrusts between your legs like he’s offering himself to you, slowly rolling his hips according to the undulation of your own. He matches the pace you don’t realize you set, picking up where the lurching lift of your hips leaves off, breathing out moan after wanton moan as he enjoys the pleasure of your pussy. You likewise bask in the pleasure he gives you, your back arching and lifting off the bed to meet with his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him even closer, feeling the smooth sheet slide over the back of your hands. By the time you can’t possibly press together any further, you’re entangled so closely that you can feel each other’s racing hearts against your chests. His heart beats for you, and yours beats for him, pumping at the same rapid pace together.

“I missed this.” Xiaojun breathes out against your collarbone, bestowing a kiss upon the spot a moment later, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I missed you so much.” Your words come out amidst a breathy exhale, your fingers lacing together on the back of his neck.

“I missed being inside you, pleasing you from within, feeling the way you give into me.” He whispers his words as if letting you in on a clandestine secret, one that he only means for you to hear. 

You divulge an impassioned confession in return, “And I missed feeling you inside of me. I think about it every moment we’re apart, just wishing for the chance to feel you again.”

“You don’t have to wish anymore, sweetheart.” He says with the emphatic assertion of a vow, angling his hips to seek your sweet spot with his cock, “I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

With your arms wrapped around your neck, your legs winding around his waist, your inner walls rippling around his dick, he’s completely enveloped in you. There’s nowhere he’d rather be than in this moment with you, and there’s no one you’d rather be entangled with so intimately. He’s yours, all yours, and you squeeze tighter around him, refusing to let him go. You’re the only he’ll ever claim like this, the only one he’ll ever fuck so passionately, the only one he’ll ever feel this devoted to. A rush of possessive passion overtakes you, surging through your fingertips and strengthening your grasp on him. Your nails run crescent pinpricks right onto his back, dragging short scratches over his skin, making him moan out in bliss for you.

“Oh fuck, keep doing that baby. Keep doing that!” He keens, arching up against the pain with a whine, “Fuck that feels so good.”

Scratching along his back, you keep drawing blunt lines of pain along the taunt skin. You claw your way down along the edge of his shoulder blade and he all but mewls in bliss, bucking his hips more erratically. He fucks you faster in response to the stimulation, losing himself to the excitement you encite in him. You match the pace he doesn’t realize he sets, frantically chasing pleasure with him.

The bed steadily rocks with your simultaneous motions, lulling you both into a state of amorous bliss. You remain silent, save for your shared moans of pleasure, for your bodies do all of the talking you need. With his deep thrusts, he shows you the depths of his fealty to you, and you arch up to meet his motions to show him you feel the same. With the way you squeeze your thighs around the curve of his waist, you convey your craving to remain connected to him, and not relent your hold. With his winding grasp on your body, he shows you just how much he’s yearned for you in the time you’ve been apart, conveying a mutual desire to simply be with you. The intensity in his gaze tells of his commitment to enjoy the time you can spend together now. And with your tender touch upon the curve of his gorgeous face, tell him you see him for who he is, for what he is, and you adore him unconditionally. He shows you he appreciates your acceptance with affectionate kisses upon your lips, softer than all the other ones you’ve shared tonight.

You give yourself to him, as he gives himself to you, both of you becoming one between the sheets. He enjoys the pain you scratch onto his back and the pleasure of your pussy, and you in turn revel in the way the head of his cock rubs against your tender spots with consistent precision. The bed creaks more audibly as your pace quickens, making impact with the wall, signaling your impending release. You feel him throb, he feels you clench, and you both know you’re reaching your peaks.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum.” You speak for the first time in some time, your throat straining with the effort to form words.

“Me too, sweetheart.” He huffs, speaking just as much of an arduous task for him, though he still manages to plead for you to, “Cum on me. Cum on my cock. Mark me as yours.”

And that primal plea is what sends you right over the edge. Though you reach your end one right after the other, with you finding release just before him, the shouts of each other’s names sound off at the same time. Your eyes remain locked the entire time, even as you feel the warmth of his release flood your core, even as he feels the staccato flutter of you clenching around him, even as toe curling bliss completely overtakes you both. 

He falls limply on top of you as you both come down, his head resting between your breasts upon your heaving chest. Your scratching relents, and you instead let your fingertips rest upon his back. His eyes slide shut as he just savors how you feel, the soft warmth of your boobs and the wet heat of your core just entrancing him to no end. You in turn savor the soft kisses he scatters over your breasts, up to your collarbones, tilting your head back to grant him access to your neck. His mouth roves along the column of your throat, slower this time, soothing the aching lovebites he left before with the soft warmth of his lips.

He pauses peppering kisses along your neck to ask, “Are you ok, sweetheart? Are you hurt anywhere?”

“There’s a sore spot right here on my chest.” You inform him, motioning to the spot on your chest he scraped with his dagger, “But no broken skin. Honestly I think my nails on your back did more damage than your knife.”

He lifts his head and nods, kissing your forehead, “Let me see if I can find something for that.”

He slowly withdraws from your core, reluctantly extracting himself from your embrace. You instantly feel the empty imprint of where his cock used to be, already wishing you could feel him once more. He stands and rummages through the dresser drawers by the wall, diligently searching for something he can use. As he does, you shamelessly let your eyes rove over his backside, enjoying this new view of this beautiful man you’ve come to feel so much for. Your gaze maps out the broadness of his shoulders, the cinched curve of his waist, the definition of his legs, the supple curve of his ass--

“Oh perfect!” His shoulders straighten, and he appears to have lucked out on a discovery.

Your gaze is diverted to a small bottle that lands softly by your feet. Curiously, you glance down at what he’s found. The lettering tells you the bottle contains aloe gel, and before you have the chance to ask what he means to do with it, he makes his way back to your side. You don’t even think before leaning on him, your chin automatically tucking onto his shoulder.

“Looks like whoever lived here was just as kinky as we are. Either that, or they had very nice skin.” He chuckles, taking the bottle in his hand and flipping the cap open.

“Baby, what would you have done if that wasn’t there?” You voice your curiosity with a soft murmur in his ear.

“I would’ve dashed from house to house until I found some,” He turns his head to tell you, adding with a lift of his shoulders, “Or something similar.” 

“And how did you know what to look for?” You ponder aloud, brows furrowing in consideration.

“I know what I’m doing with a blade, sweetheart. I wouldn’t have used it on you otherwise, not unless I knew how to take care of you.” He refers to the weapon with which he made countless kills, and yet he wouldn’t have let it grace your skin if he didn’t have the utmost confidence in his skill, completely certain he wouldn’t bring you any true harm. The sentiment makes your face warm pleasantly, and you settle more into his side.

At your silence, he continues to explain, “That’s why I made sure the blade was clean first. I wasn’t going to get some poor soul’s blood all over your beautiful skin.”

“Can we even get infections?” You wonder aloud, “I know we can be hurt, but I haven’t been in a trial long enough for a wound to fester.”

Xiaojun frowns at the notion of you being that injured, “I don’t care to find out, especially not when it comes to you. I wouldn’t risk it.”

Squeezing some of the clear gel onto his fingers, he begins tending to the tender flesh he graced with his knife. The gel is cold upon first contact, making your breath stutter, and he halts immediately. Only after you nod does he continue to spread the gel over your chest and down to your torso. The refreshing coolness seeps through your skin and soothes the muscle beneath, loosening every ache and every bit of tension in your body. It would seem that his skills with his hands extend to more than just using a blade, or pleasuring you. With his gentle touch, he shows you that his elegant hands are capable of great comfort as well. His slender fingers rub the gel into your skin with comforting precion before his palm follows suit, applying delicate bits of pressure. He makes sure his every touch feels good and doesn’t cause a hint of discomfort, and you feel cherished by his attentive care. You’re able to fully relax under his touch as he repeats the reverent touches he laid out with his blade earlier that night. This time, fills in the portrait of you not with pain, not with pleasure, but with cooling comfort that has your eyes sliding shut in content.

He takes extra time rubbing the gel onto the sore spot on your chest, as if holding your heart in his hand. His touch is even more gentle as his palm roves over the spot, taking his time dissolving the heat of soreness and replacing it with cool relief. With this action, he says so much through wordless means. The latent message of his touch is that he will always be here to soothe you, that you can trust him with your heart as well as your body. You hear his unspoken implications loud and clear, face burning as you register his implicit message.

“How does that feel sweetheart?” He asks, his words free of the dominant edge from before, a soft sense of fastidious thoughtfulness taking its place.

“Feels really good.” You tell him with a smile, letting yourself sink into the bed.

“Good.” He nods, an elated smile making its way to his face, “I always want to make you feel good.”

And he does, for the coolness of the gel creates a new kind of euphoria, one where you can let yourself go and luxuriate in serenity. A layer of aloe is rubbed into your thigh, up onto your hips, and over the planes of your belly. Every spot that was once graced with the icy edge of his blade is coated in aloe, and the refreshing scent of the gel relaxes you more. When he makes his way to your breasts, fondles the soft mounds of flesh in smooth circles, and the cool gel over your nipples is warmed in the next moment by a fond sweep of his thumb.

“Do you think I can use the blade next time?” You wonder aloud, letting your passing rumination slip through your lips.

His hands halt for a moment, his cock stirs at the prospect, and he hums in agreement, “I’d be more than happy to show you how it’s done.”

Once he’s finished applying gel to your skin, you sit up, taking the bottle from his hand. Curiously, he eyes you, “What are you doing, baby?”

“Turn around.” You instruct, and he immediately obeys, turning his back to you. There, you see the raised lines of red drawn with your nails, scarlet trails of stimulation scratched onto his skin. You squeeze some of the gel onto your fingers and slowly smear it over the marks you see, keeping your motions gentle to mirror the way he touched you. He tilts his head back with a muted moan, already relieved by your touch. Ever so gently, you press the gel into his skin, allowing it to seep into the muscle beneath the surface. A fervent warmth rises to the apples of his cheek, touched that the care he extended to you is being reciprocated so sincerely. Slowly but surely, you cover his entire back in a clear layer of gel, feeling the way the knots in the corded muscle unravel beneath your fingertips.

“When was the last time you’ve had a massage? Do you remember?” You comment playfully, noting just how much tension you release all along the top of his shoulders.

“We don’t exactly get the chance to relax between trials. There’s no time to relax.” He jests, his soft laugh turning into a faltering sigh when your thumbs rub circles into the base of his neck, “Oh, right there. Right there, that feels good.”

You ruminate on his words with a contemplative hum, “That’s a shame. You should be able to unwind. It’s hard work feeding The Entity time and time again.”

“Well, lucky for me, I have the perfect form of respite sitting behind me.” He counters, looking over his shoulder and locking eyes with you, “And she’s really pretty too.” 

You huff out a laugh, a giddy sense of glee bubbling up within you. Even simple compliments uttered with his melodic voice fill you with exuberant joy. The sight of your happiness inspires joy in him as well, and he can’t stop the smile from lifting his lips. He leans over, kissing you softly, smiling against your grin. You easily return the affection, giggling into the soft kisses.

Once you’ve finished massaging him into relaxation, you lay beside each other like you were always meant to share a bed. Your place on the mattress is nearest to the bedside table, and he slips beside you on the side facing the door. His arm winds around your waist, and you shuffle closer to him, laying right on the defined muscle of his pec. You close your eyes as you take in the soft thump of his heart within his chest, feeling it’s fluttering tempo against your cheek. An air of almost idle domesticity settles over you both, and you wonder if you’d manage to find your way into his arms even outside of beyond the bounds of The Fog. Would you still have met, had you both not been trapped together in this realm? You find yourself wondering what a room you share with him would look like. You certainly wouldn’t pick this hideously dingy wallpaper, that much is certain.

“So,” He pipes up, his fingertips meandering over the curve of your hip, “Does The Campfire call, or can you stay with me for a while longer?”

It’s then that you realize you haven’t spared a second thought to The Campfire, or your obligation to move to the next trial. You’ve just been content to stay with him, as if you can remain with him in idle bliss without consequence. The game was forgotten, little more than a distant memory, until he reminded you of your shared circumstance. Despite this, you feel no sense of dread. No disappointing revelation dampens your elevated mood. The Campfire call, while present, is muted enough to be ignored for now, as his embrace gives you all the warmth you need. His mind has also strayed away from the incessant repetition of deadly trials. He can’t even guess as to where his mask ended up, and right now, he doesn't care to. Right now, hiding himself is the last thing on his mind.

“I’m not going anywhere, not for some time at least.” You assure him, wrapping your arms around his midsection.

“I’m glad. I like having you all to myself.” His grin widens, highlighting the rosy tint that dyes his cheekbones with mirth. If you look hard enough, you can see faint wrinkles that crinkle on the corners of his eyes, and the sight endears you to no end.

“I like it too.” You hum your assent with a grin of your own, “I don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

“You won’t have to.” He pulls you closer into his side as he assures you that, “You have me, completely.”

Your kisses resume and never seem to cease from that point on. Even as you kiss him and enjoy the palpable press of his lips, you’re still appalled that in this hellscape, you managed to snag something as precious as your bond with him. You ruminate on just how much you’ve come to feel for him in such a short time, and how much he’s come to feel for you. You thought your affair with him would be nothing more than a lustful fling, but everything from tonight tells you this goes far beyond passion of the flesh. You’ve truly come to adore him, as he’s come to adore you, and the shared sentiment warms your heart to no end. You snuggle closer to this beautiful man, honored that he’s chosen to bare himself to you, and make you his as you’ve made him yours. You never thought your obsession with him would extend beyond perverse lust, and yet here you lie in his arms, with your heart fluttering with the amorous prospect of romance. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.