minny @slvttycvnt - Tumblr Blog

Ending

Pairing: Yandere!Naoya x Reader

Tags: Car sex, Blow jobs, Deepthroating, Debt trapping, Sub & Dom Naoya, Sex pollen

Summary: It had been a week but the debt was starting to become too much. There's no way in hell you can afford all these fines, especially now that your water heater and AC broke. The job offer letter from the Zenin estate seems to glow in the afternoon sunlight…

Based off the idea where after you're affected by sex pollen and fuck Naoya in his car. He then develops an obsession for you.

Notes: I wrote this with ao3 in mind which lets you add creator styles. Since I can't do that only the email's and texts are different from ao3.

Please feel free to tell me if I missed any warnings or tags.

Always open to feedback, comments, and constructive criticism!

Crossposted from Ao3

Word count: 16.4k

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Ending

Ring! Ring! Ring!

You winced before you'd even opened your eyes as your alarm awoke you. Your whole body felt sore. It was a deep ache that told you last night had wrung you out completely. As you sat up slowly and raised your hand, the orb bloomed to life and began soothing your aching muscles.

It was only then, as the fog lifted, that two things registered at once.

You were naked. Someone had undressed you while you were unconscious.

And you were not alone.

Breathing became difficult but it only worsened when you realized something foreign was touching you, holding you. It was heavy, warm, and it smelled like ozone.

Hands trembling, you slowly try to get out of bed when an arm snaked around your waist and drags you back. When you open your mouth to scream, the arm tightens, pulling you closer to their hard chest. You felt the scratch of jaw stubble against your shoulder and a petulant groan.

"Nnnooo. Stay." Mumbled Naoya. His voice muffled against your shoulder.

His voice was thick with sleep as he burrowed his face into the crook of your neck and his legs tangled with yours beneath the covers, locking you in place. His arm was like a cobra around you, and when you tried to twist out of his grip, he only pulled tighter with a grunt of irritation.

"What the-? Naoya? What are you doing in my bed? Did you take-"

"Shhh. Jus' lemme sleep, woman."

And then you heard him start to snore.

You lay there rigid as a board while your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. All the while you had to deal with his breath fanning across your neck, giving you goosebumps. His hand had splayed across your stomach and scratched your tummy every now and again, but his grip hadn't loosened at all.

You tested his grip one more time and shifted your weight forward. His arm constricted immediately as an unconscious reflex, and a huff of displeasure interrupted his snoring before he settled back again.

He wasn't letting go.

You willed yourself into laying still as the minutes passed. Gradually, your hands stopped shaking enough that you could reach for your phone on the bedside table without jostling him.

The screen lit up and you squinted against the brightness, angling it away from his face. It was almost 8am and you knew Naoya couldn't be bothered to wake up until nine.

You opened the camera app linked to your house. Since you hadn't been able to swing by as often, you'd set up a few cameras to monitor the property — mostly aimed at the apple tree in the backyard so you could watch its progress. The tree looked fine for now, its branches heavy with new growth. But the backyard camera caught something else: more people than usual walking along. Your neighborhood has gotten busier lately, it seems. You watched a few pass by, idly cataloging faces you didn't recognize, letting the normalcy of it settle you down.

Behind you, Naoya stirred.

A yawn cracked through the quiet and you heard his bones crack as he stretched. His arm left your waist as he rolled onto his back and sat up. When you turned to look at him, he was standing beside the bed in nothing but a pair of his black boxers and a scowl already carved into his face. When his eyes locked onto you and the scowl deepened.

"You know I waited hours for you to come back." His voice was fully awake now as he snapped at you. "And instead of returning to me, you pass out. In uniform, by the way."

He stomped across the room and flipped the light switch. The overhead blazed to full brightness and you flinched, raising a hand to shield your eyes. He stomped back and snatched the phone out of your grip before you could react.

"I don't care how tired you are, we have traditions you need to follow." He glanced down at the screen and his lip curled. "And what's this?"

He was looking at your house camera’s backyard feed.

"Now you're people-watching the moment you wake up." He shook his head, nostrils flaring. "You know, I had to come to you. I was told you were finally back and had to walk all the way to your room like some errand boy because you couldn't be bothered to check in. Unbelievable." He huffed as he tossed your phone onto the bed.

"Instead of sleeping in my own room, I had to sleep in here. If there's an emergency, you should be near me while I'm asleep. That's your job. That's why you're here."

He wasn't letting you get a word in. Each sentence rolled into the next; a continuous stream of grievances. You sat there, blanket clutched to your chest, and felt the guilt begin to creep in despite yourself. He was right about the uniform, at least. And you hadn't checked in. And you had passed out…

But you still needed an answer.

"Did you undress me?"

The words came out quieter than you intended, despite it being a valid question. However, the look Naoya gave you made your stomach drop. As if you'd insulted him by even asking.

"You try sleeping in full Zenin traditional clothing and then tell me I'm the problem." His voice was flat with disdain. "I literally just told you this. Do you even listen? We have traditions. Follow them."

He turned on his heel and left as the door slammed behind him hard enough to rattle the frame.

You let what he said ruminate in your mind. He was right about some of it. You knew that. You shouldn't have passed out in uniform. You should've checked in. You shouldn't have been on your phone first thing instead of reporting for duty.

But you couldn't shake the feeling that sat unresolved beneath the guilt.

We have traditions.

You can't even think about it as the guilt comes back.

—----

Time had a way of moving differently inside the Zenin estate. Days bled into weeks, weeks into months, and before you knew it, an entire year had passed since you got hired.

You stood in Naoya's bathroom, which had become your bathroom too, and dried yourself off. You used to have your own room with a door you could lock, but Naoya decided that a personal nurse sleeping down the hall was an inefficiency he couldn't tolerate.

"Why would my healer need to sleep down the hall? If something happens in the middle of the night, what are you gonna do — jog over? Use your brain, woman."

At first you'd been distraught. Truthfully, you still were, but you supposed his logic made sense. He was going to be the future clan head, and he needed to be in peak shape. Any severe injury could handicap him, after all. Sleeping in his bed was already crossing several lines but if you wanted to pay them back you’d have to offer your acquiescence. Your only alternative was the floor, which he seemed to like about as much as he liked the idea of you in his bed.

Now, you lay on your back and took the room in. The walk-in closet could have swallowed your old room whole. The ceilings were so high you thought you'd get injured if you fell from that height. Not only that but this wing of the estate essentially belonged to him. It probably didn't but given his personality most people here just wanted to avoid him all together. You wonder, If you'd grown up like this, with practically everything you'd need for a house inside your own wing on an estate, maybe you'd have developed a massive ego too.

You shifted to get comfortable and turned onto your side.

Naoya was already facing you.

His eyes were soft in the low light. It always caught you off guard how relaxed he'd get around you. But here, in the amber dark, with the sheets pooled at his waist and his hair loose against the pillow, the sharp edges of him looked filed down.

"I have some work coming up in Tokyo tomorrow. The higher-ups are so damn serious about everything, like I can't handle it myself. Whatever, I'm glad the pay is nice, otherwise they can eat it for all I care."

He reached over and played with your choker. He traced the leather, then the tag, the pad of his thumb running across the engraving before traveling to the clasp at the back of your neck.

"Still," he murmured, "I want a good-luck charm."

His eyes held yours and he leaned in. Your breathing stilled, but he only reached past you, his arm brushing your shoulder, and grabbed his phone from beside your pillow.

A few months ago, he would have tried to kiss you or, given his speed, succeeded before you could react. Sometimes his hands would wander and you'd have to physically relocate them. Now, though, he seemed content so long as he was touching you like this. And he touched you constantly, especially when you were both out in public. It was starting to feel possessive, as if he was holding some kind of imaginary leash.

"What's your blood type?" he asked, scrolling.

You told him, and a grin broke across his face as he turned the screen toward you.

"Look. It says our types are compatible. Adventurous, keen, and our lucky numbers fall on the same date in a few months." He tapped the screen at more points he wanted you to read, his brown eyes searching yours for approval. Usually, when you were both in bed, his gaze drifted south. Right now it was locked on your face.

You decided to redirect his attention. "Are you going solo?"

He groaned, the spell broken. "Unfortunately, no. One of my older brothers is tagging along. I don't even know why they give them assignments, let alone consider them part of the family. All seven of them — older than me, weaker than me, and twice as useless. If I'm lucky, he'll die." He said, smiling at the thought.

You frowned. He rarely talked about his brothers, but you'd come to understand that it wasn't from privacy but contempt. A hatred so deep it had calcified into indifference, or what passed for it, but you hadn't expected him to wish one of them dead. Not like that, and not with a smile on his face.

He either didn't notice your expression or didn't care. A yawn overtook him and his eyes fluttered shut, his body sinking deeper into the mattress.

As you lay there, waiting for sleep to find you, his voice came again, barely a murmur and muffled by the pillow.

"…won't have sons like my brothers."

Your eyes slid to look at him and thinking you could have imagined it. Yes, you probably imagined it, but just before consciousness slipped away, you swore you heard him say we.

—---

Naoya left for his job that morning. Before he left, he groped you and laughed as you swung at him. He dodged with his projection sorcery and blew you a kiss from the doorway.

You were still in his room when you noticed his PC was on and unlocked. You knew you shouldn't look, but the debt had been gnawing at you. You'd asked him about it twice, but both times he'd waved you off, saying you were "making progress." The last time you brought it up, he bought you a new coat — knowing him, he'd hold it over you. So you stopped asking, afraid every gift was another number secretly added to your total debt.

I'm not snooping. I'll just check his spreadsheet to see where I'm at.

You checked for Excel but it wasn't installed so you tried the browser for an online version — nothing. He'd never used a spreadsheet at all it seems.

You stared at the desktop for a bit before anxiously opening his email — heart thudding against your chest as it loaded. You scrolled through the recent messages one by one, scanning subject lines for anything useful. A ledger, a receipt, an invoice, a forwarded statement — anything.

A shipping confirmation from a luxury skincare brand you'd never heard of. Some real estate in the area your house was in. A subscription renewal for some men's self-improvement newsletter called The Apex Male. A notification from an anime cel auction house. A promotional email from his piercing studio. Porn. A Spotify receipt. A newsletter from a car detailing service. Spam. Spam. More spam.

Nothing about your debt, or even a reference to it.

You sat there and tried to decide if that made you feel better or worse. Either he tracked it somewhere you couldn't find, or he didn't track it at all. Both possibilities unsettled you.

You closed the browser, cleared the search history, and got off his computer. To pass the time, you went to find Tora to see if she needed help cleaning. Your phone buzzed on the way there.

https://archiveofourown.org/image.jpg

The photo showed a man in his forties. He looked somewhat like Naoya, but heavier, slumped, and deeply wrinkled for his age. Even through the photo you could see the resignation in his eyes.

You closed your phone and found Tora. You helped her for a few minutes, then went to the kitchen to eat something premade. You checked your phone again.

Blond Bitch

Today 1047

Naoya: This is so boring

Naoya: Hey

Naoya: Hey. What are you doing

Naoya: You have to be doing your nails for it to take you so long to respond.

Today 1103

You: I'm sorry my notifs were off

Naoya: So?

Naoya: Leave them on so u dont miss my texts

Today 1106

Naoya: I'm getting those mochi cakes I know you like once this is done

Today 1107

You: Thank you

Naoya: Now you respond instantly

Naoya: Its expected from you people honestly

Naoya: But I'll get you two since you've been so clingy lately

Today 1115

You: Have you found the curse? Do you want me to come nearby in case?

Now

Naoya: No. So clingy

You typed: Good luck to you and your brother. Stay safe. You watched it go to read.

You didn't hear from him until much later. He sent a screenshot of his bank account showing a large deposit. He captioned it:

What a real man brings home 💰

Much later he sends you and imagine of some mochi cakes

The image was his receipt and from the angle you couldn't make out what he'd bought — just the price. Despite spending a lot, it was a small fraction of what he'd just been paid.

---

Hours later, you were getting ready for bed when Naoya came in more wound up than usual. He was practically vibrating with energy, grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, look at you. Waiting up for me." He held up a box and shook it. "Job paid out nice, so I grabbed you a dozen. Say 'thank you, Naoya-sama♥.'"

“Thank you Naoya-sama for the snacks.”

He smiles at your appreciation and tossed the box into the mini fridge then took off his shirt. When he started to take off his pants, you quickly looked away as he snickered. He went to take a shower, and when he returned, he was in just his boxers, his hair still damp from the wash. He dropped onto the bed and stretched like a cat before he exhaled and sank into the mattress.

"How was the job? Do you need me to heal anything?"

"Pff. On something that weak? C'mon now." He tucked one arm behind his head and stared at the ceiling with a satisfied grin. "Little shit tried to swallow me whole. Its first and last mistake. I uppercut it from the inside and punched clean through its skull. Brain matter was coated all over me." He turned his head, his eyes hooded and dark as they dragged over your body. "Honestly, if you'd seen me out there? You'd be crawling all over me right now. Any proper woman would already have her mouth full."

You didn't respond to that. His comments had been getting to you more and more lately. You tolerated it because you had to — the debt made sure of that — but it felt like he was working through a checklist to hit every form of sexual harassment before the day was done.

He turned off the lights, and the mattress shifted as he rolled toward you and pressed himself against your back. The heat his body threw off was suffocating, and you could feel his bulge pushing against you through the thin fabric of his boxers. He didn't adjust himself as it pressed more insistently into you. Either he didn't notice, or he didn't see a reason to adjust himself.

A few seconds of quiet passed, and you thought he might be falling asleep.

"Oh, yeah. Almost slipped my mind," he mumbled, letting out a lazy yawn. "My brothers died. We're headin' to his wake next week."

—--

You were at a café eating lunch with Naoya as he jabbered on about… what was he talking about again? Hormones?

"…Ogi's a ghoul, but I do pay attention when he talks at the clan meetings. Get this — his ex-wife had a uterine cyst before they divorced, and Wikipedia said that kinda stuff can affect your hormones. Whatever, but ChatGPT said that hormones can get so bad it makes you not even attracted to people anymore. Messes with her brain. Makes her totally useless to a man and so I thought—"

You just nodded along when your phone buzzed against the table. He'd give you an attitude if you checked it right now, so you waited for him to finish talking.

"—hours of talking to ChatGPT and it said it can even make you a lesbian. I mean — hot, but what I'm saying is…"

He was still going, and you were surprised that just sitting here and nodding had kept his attention for this long. You remembered he'd usually be checking another woman out by now. You wondered what changed.

"…so you agree with me, right?"

He was looking at you expectantly, and to your surprise a blush was forming across his face. You nodded, and he gave you a puppy-like smile as he reached over and laced his fingers loosely through yours, while his thumb rubbed idle shapes on the back of your hand.

"Knew it. Obviously you'd agree. You're smarter than most women, which tells me you made it through college the honest way, unlike half the women your age."

Then your phone buzzed. Then buzzed again and again. Before you could reach for it, Naoya already grabbed it.

“Hey! Don't read those."

He rolled his eyes and scanned your messages. He typed out a quick response and set the phone face-down between you.

"Your little friends wanna know where you've been. A woman should only focus on the man in front of her so I told them you were busy. You're welcome."

"Oh…you didn't have to do that." You reached for the phone, feeling a pang of guilt that they'd been left on read for who knows how long. You'd text them back properly later, maybe tonight when things quieted down.

"Sure, sure." He waved a hand, already moving on. "Though you should keep your phone on silent when you're with me. Excluding my messages, obviously. Every time those women blow your phone up you get all scattered."

He shook his head in disappointment.

"Their weakness is starting to rub off on you, and I'm not gonna sit here and let that happen. A woman should only end up distracted if her man is the one distracting her."

"Please don't talk about them that way."

His eyebrows rose. "Talk about them what way?" He leaned back and squinted at you. "I'll talk about them exactly how they deserve to be talked about. Women are emotionally weaker and your friends are women. So what exactly did I say that was wrong?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose.

"See, this is what happens when women spend too much time around other women. You start thinking with your feelings instead of your brain. One of them gets offended and suddenly all of you are offended and none of you even know why. It's a herd mentality thing."

He squeezes your hand and his smile returns back to his face. "But you're better than that. Or at least you should be, since you're around me. So stop getting emotional over nothing.”

You let it drop. He had a point, in a weird way you… could be easily distracted sometimes, and your friends did text at the worst times. He was just being a blunt asshole about it. That was Naoya's thing.

---

Days later, you were in bed when your phone buzzed with a text from Naoya. He was out for some clan meeting and had been sending you sporadic updates all evening, which you'd learned was his way of keeping you company while he was away.

Blond Bitch

Today 2247

Naoya: u still up?

Today 2248

Naoya: ?

Today 2249

You: Yes

Naoya: Good

Naoya: Was thinking about u

Today 2252

You: okay

Naoya: Don't "okay" me, woman. I just said I was thinking about u and thats what I get?

Now

You: My apologies

Naoya: Damn right

You remember him venting about how he can't take you. He made it seem like he needed to be around you at all times and honestly it was suffocating. Back then he'd spend his free time with who knows what new girlfriend, sleeping, training, or watching anime. Now he still does most of that stuff but you're included.

Well, since he had gotten you hooked on One Piece you may as well continue watching it. Your focus on the show was broken when Naoya sent a photo of one of his brothers. The man in the image was red-eyed and tired looking.

You grimaced at his apathy. You thought maybe he was in shock but he genuinely seemed to despise his older brothers.

Blonde Bitch

Today 2307

Naoya: I dont expect a woman to understand the nuances of family politics, but the fool didn't have any sons so he died without leaving behind a legacy.

Today 2308

Naoya: Thats what happens when a man doesnt pay attention.

Today 2310

You: You can have a legacy without kids.

Now

Naoya: Dont speak on things you dont understand. His legacy is owning a knock-off of one of Tojikun's spears. Not even one of the good ones. The man contributed nothing. At least have the decency to leave behind something worth remembering.

You texted your group chat when you could all meet up and they agreed the upcoming Saturday when you're off. Your group chat was already buzzing with suggestions: the restaurant with the outdoor seating, maybe that new dessert bar, or even a movie when Naoya texts you again.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: By the way. I have business on ur days off. ur on standby. Dont go anywhere.

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard. You stared at the message, then at your group chat, then back at Naoya's text. He was right — his work did come first. That was literally what you were being paid for. And if something happened on a job and you weren't available…

You deleted ‘I can do Saturday!’ and started typing:

Hey, I'm so sorry but something came up with work again. Rain check? I promise I'll make it up to you guys 💛

The replies came back instantly: Again?? and Are they making you work 24/7?

The guilt twisted in your stomach as you closed the chat.

Blond Bitch

Today 2314

Naoya: The food here is at least worth my time. Ill bring you back some and we can eat together. Consider it a reward for being available on short notice.

Now

You: Is it spider rolls? Those are so good. I used to feed them to my friend after they bought them for me one time.

Naoya didn't respond and left you on read. You set the phone down and lay back, feeling vaguely embarrassed for oversharing.

---

It was late in the evening when Naoya returned. He cocked his head for you to follow him as he led you to one of the smaller dining rooms. The low table was already cleared, and the lighting was dimmed low.

"Since you begged me to get them I went out of my way and got two rolls for the both of us. You're welcome."

You hadn't begged but whatever, it was still sweet he'd remembered.

"Thank you, Naoya-sama. Really."

"Obviously." He was already opening the container, but the tips of his ears were turning red.

The spider rolls sat in a neat row, crusted with golden-brown skin from being deep-fried. He picked one up with chopsticks and you held out your hand to take it.

He didn't hand it over. Instead, he pushed it closer to your mouth, past your outstretched palm. The edge of the roll bumped against your lips and he nudged it a few more times.

You relented and opened up to let him feed you.

He pushed the chopsticks in a little further than necessary and you felt the wood press against your tongue. You felt a slight stretch at the corner of your mouth before he withdrew them, faintly glossed with spit. His eyes tracked the shine on the tips before he set them down.

"Oh wow, this is delicious. Did they use stone crab? I wish I could eat more, but I'm already full." You said, having already eaten since you didn't expect him to bring back food.

Naoya hummed before picking up a piece for himself using the exact same chopsticks. He lifted the roll and placed it in his mouth, his lips closing around the same area your mouth was on and chewed slowly, watching you.

Then he held the chopsticks out to you.

"Feed me."

You were in a better mood since you'd eaten something nice so you'd overlook his eccentricity. You took the chopsticks and began feeding him piece by piece.

"Mmmm. Oh, that's good." He moaned out on the fifth piece, letting his eyes fall shut. He stuck his tongue out for the next bite and his piercing glinted in the soft lighting. It reminded you of the bait anglerfish would use to lure in prey.

As you fed him another piece, the moan came again, but this time his eyes stayed open and fixed on yours. The sounds he was making were even deeper and more delicate with each piece. You wanted to hope it was just the food doing that to him.

You went to pick up another piece when he stopped you.

"Use your hands. You poked my tongue earlier with the chopsticks and it's still sensitive. So use your fingers. Shouldn't be a problem for a nurse, yeah?"

He began rubbing slow circles on the inside of your wrist with his thumb. Since you were sensitive there and it made you shiver. His gaze became heavy and he continued rubbing you there, then stuck his tongue out.

When you reached out with a piece of sushi, he grabbed your hand and held it in place. The roll slipped from your grip and tumbled back into the tray. He brought your fingers up to his mouth and his tongue pushed between your index and middle finger, flicking at the webbing between them. The sensation was strange as the soft muscle pressed forward and the cool pressure of his piercing moved against your fingers as he bore down.

He pushed your fingers apart and sucked them into his mouth. His teeth closed lightly around the base and you felt the vibrations of a low moan as his tongue worked around them, tracing each knuckle, curling around your digits. He pulled them free with a slow drag that left behind a glistening string of saliva.

"Mmm. You're right." His voice was roughened, scraped raw with each breath. He licked the corner of his mouth. "Those were delicious."

Your face was burning and you couldn't even think up a response. He took your hand and wiped your fingers clean with a napkin as you sat there.

"Oh, by the way." His tone shifted back to casual as he leaned back in his chair "There's a public ordinance going around. Water pressure issues across the whole district — they're capping the liters at every household and they're not making exceptions. Not even for us, which pisses me off, but whatever." He waved his free hand dismissively. "Point is, for now until the foreseeable future, we'll have to bathe together. To save water."

You felt lightheaded. The transition from his tongue between your fingers to the new water policy to “we'll have to bathe together” happened so fast that your brain couldn't find a foothold. He was already up and beside you while his hand found the small of your back as he walked you toward his bedroom.

"Don't overthink it," he murmured. "It's practical. A man and a woman sharing a bath to conserve resources. There's nothing weird about it unless you make it weird. And honestly? The fact that your mind went there says more about you than it does about me."

You didn't respond as he led you to the bathroom. You were too lightheaded, and something about the evening had softened the edges of your usual wariness. The bathroom light clicked on and steam was already curling from the tub.

Seems like he got a maid to draw the bath before he came to get you. Which was… thoughtful, actually. He must have started it the moment he walked in so it would be ready by the time you finished eating.

"See? Already warm. I handle everything around here. All you gotta do is follow my lead and — stop making that face."

He began untying his robe, and when your eyes darted toward the door, his hand caught your chin and tilted your face back toward him.

"Heyy. Where are you looking? I'm right here. Relax, woman. I told you this is about the water."

His robe slipped off one shoulder.

"…Unless you want it to be more. In which case-" A grin split his face, sharp and vulpine. "-that's on you, not me. I'm just being a responsible citizen.”

—-

A few had passed since then but today and tomorrow you had the day off. Naoya had to help you take your choker off since you couldn't get it off yourself. You think back and realize he's always been having to help you take it off but don't think much of it. Currently you found yourself at your friend's house, elbow-deep in her garden.

"You know, I've really wanted to get into hydroponics lately, you know? I just feel like my herbs don't like the soil here, and-"

You nodded along, genuinely interested, when your phone buzzed in your back pocket.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: I got you a new uniform. Come back so you can try it on

You knew, technically, you didn't have to. Unless it was an emergency, your off-days were yours. That was the one concession written into your contract that he hadn't yet found a way to weasel around. Your phone buzzed again.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: Btw its meant to be worn only when you're in my room. Its a historical

What followed was a long string of text, most of it glazing the Zenin family lineage — something about how it's been traced back to Zenin healers for generations. You thumbed out a reply.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: What does it look like? Can I see it

Three dots appeared on the screen, bouncing for several seconds, before vanishing. He didn't respond so you went back to clipping some wilted leaves when your device vibrated again.

Blond Bitch

Today 1100

Naoya: No

Naoya: Are you at your house?

Today 1102

You: No

Now

Naoya: Where are you You aren't supposed to be far.

You texted back that you were only a fifteen-minute train ride away. Your friend shrieked when she unearthed a frog camping beneath her flowers, and you scooped it up without thinking, chasing her around the yard while she squealed and swatted at you. You were both wheezing with laughter by the time she retreated inside to cool off. You stayed in the grass, catching your breath, the frog long since released back into the flower bed.

Blond Bitch

Today 1104

Naoya: Ugh the train? I never take those. The last time I did it was crowded and no one gave me their seat.

Today 1105

You: I'm sorry to hear that Naoya-sama

Naoya: I don't need your pity woman. I need you here.

Now

You: Are you hurt?

Three dots appeared, then vanished again. You wiped your hands on your jeans and were about to head inside when an image.

You tapped it open. It was a quick mirror selfie he’d taken in the estate’s gym.

Blond Bitch

Naoya: I have a headache. Come back and heal me

Now

You: Since my ability uses opioids I don't want to use it too often. I have some aspirin in my exam room.

Naoya: Excuses.

Your friend padded back out with two glasses of iced barley tea and peered over your shoulder before you could angle the phone away.

"Oh my god. That's your boss? An alt baddie, nice." She grinned and plopped down beside you.

"No… well, I mean, he kinda is, but on paper he isn't. He's my boss's son, but I personally work for him now." You rolled your eyes and took the tea. "And he's only alternative looks-wise. Personality-wise, he's a sexist asshole. The other day he told me women's wombs belong to their man."

Her smile flattened into a frown.

"So you have to be around him all day?" she asked, worry bleeding into her voice.

You internally grimaced. You didn't want to tell her it was at night too. That you slept in his bed now, that there was a choker fastened around your throat with his family name stitched into it that you couldn't take it off without his permission. She'd ask why, and then you'd have to explain the debt, and the expenses they kept tacking on, and the contract you'd signed in a panic, and — no. Better to handle this alone than watch her worry.

"Yeah, just the day. After that I'm away from him."

She gave you a small, uncertain smile, then brightened and announced she was making roast duck later. You grinned, dramatically collapsing into the grass at the prospect of not having to cook. Your phone buzzed again.

Blond Bitch

Today 1112

Naoya: Where are you specifically?

Today 1114

You: I'm at my friend's house.

Now

Naoya: Ugh of course you spend your free time with women.

Naoya: You sit around a bunch of hens long enough and you start cluckin like one

You headed inside and your friend waved you toward the living room while she tied on an apron. You sank into her couch, already half-dozing from the sun, when your phone buzzed again.

Another photo loaded in and it was Naoya, shirtless, in the private gym mirror, sweat catching along the hard lines of his stomach, piercings glinting. Behind him, just barely in frame, two men were lifting on a bench press. You could see the resemblance in their jawlines, the same sharp brow. Brothers, probably. One of them was openly scowling at the back of Naoya's head.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: I'm still the biggest man here btw. Not even close

Naoya: ur not attracted to any of them are u?

...What.

Before you could even compose a response, a follow-up came through.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: Theyre all a waste of oxygen and have shit techniques. Even as a child I was on the same reading level as half of them. If they werent Zenin's theyd be on the street shining my shoes

You stared at the screen, thumbs hovering uselessly. Was this a test? Was this one of those questions where saying no meant disrespecting a Zenin. Then again, he'd literally smiled at the news of his brother dying last week and he was shit-talking them in real time now.

Blond Bitch

Today 1123

You: No. Why do you ask?

Now

Naoya: ur unmarried, have wide enough hips, and ur a solid 8/10 if you actually bothered with makeup. Since those failures are useless as sorcerers, theyd try to use a woman like u to fix their pathetic lineage.

So this was the family politics he occasionally hinted at.

Blond Bitch

Now

Naoya: Theyre already useless but to rely on a woman like that? Even u have to admit its pathetic. A real man builds his bloodline with his own strength not by poaching some bitch to do it for him. U dont need to respond. I already know you agree.

In a twisted way, you did agree — not with the phrasing, god no, but with the hypocrisy. The clan was aggressively misogynistic, right up until they needed a woman's help, at which point every tradition bent itself backwards to accommodate whatever they wanted.

---

By the time dinner was done and dishes were washed, it was late evening and your friend showed you to her guest room. You thanked her, changed into an oversized sleeping shirt, and sank into the bedding.

You were scrolling mindlessly through your phone when it buzzed.

Blond Bitch

2130

Naoya: Heyy. u asleep. I need u.

Now

You: Is something wrong?

Your phone started vibrating with an incoming call, his contact photo — one he'd taken himself and set without your permission — filling the screen.

You picked up. "Hello? Was something happening?"

"Nah, nothin's wrong." His voice came through a little rough. "Just haven't heard from you all day. A woman goes quiet that long, she's usually up to somethin' stupid. Had to make sure you weren't runnin' around."

"Did you finish training this late? You know it's advised against working out at night. All that adrenaline makes it harder to sleep."

You heard the rustle of heavy fabric and a creak as he adjusted on his bed.

"Don't lecture me, woman. Men know their own bodies." He paused, and then his tone softened. "What were you doin' today?"

That perked you up since gardening was one of your favorite hobbies. It bored most people whenever you talked about it so you were excited to share it with him.

"Well, I was actually helping my friend in her backyard garden. She's trying to grow some basil since she can't find it fresh in the store."

"Mm. Yeah?" His voice had gone a little lower and thicker. "You like that stuff? Plants n' all that. Keep talkin'.”

You hesitated, then continued, because if he was offering you an audience you were going to take it. "Oh! Well, did you know that mint can work as a natural insect repellent? It's because the strong scent masks human scent, so mosquitoes-"

A sharp inhale cut through the line and you stopped.

"Keep talkin'." His breath hitched, catching high in his throat. "I didn't say stop. Did I fuckin' say stop? Keep goin'.”

"Uh- okay. Um. Some plants are best grown from propagating them, since the harvest from seed would be too small to be worth it. Stuff like rosemary, artichoke, laven-"

A soft, rhythmic sound had started up in the background. It had a steady rhythm and sounded…wet? You couldn't quite place it over the low humming noises he kept making, but it was there, slipping between his breaths. His breathing came through the receiver heavier now, and more ragged, but it wasn't the sharp, pained gasps you were used to hearing from him when you were knitting a shattered rib back into place. It sounded like he was whining.

"Fuck, you're such a fuckin’ nerd." His voice was thick and slurred like he'd been drinking. "Cute, though. Real cute. Women oughta stick to soft shit like that. Plants n' babies. Keeps you outta trouble." He paused to swallow. "Tell me what you're doin' right now.”

"I'm... just in the guest bedroom," you explained slowly, a creeping sense of unease washing over you. Was this just another excuse to find a breach in your contract? It upset you that he was pretending to care about your hobbies just to monitor you.

"Mmhmm, And it's just you in there, right? No men. Don't lie to me either, I can always tell when a woman's lyin'. You've all got the same tell."

"Yes, Naoya-sama. It's just me." You pulled the blanket higher. "Why do you sound so out of breath?"

"I was training, I already told you." He immediately snapped back, but his voice cracked halfway through and pitched into a softer tone. "Don't ask stupid questions." A wet, slick sound came faster now. "What're you wearin'?”

You wait before answering so you can listen better now, but it's just his heavy breathing on the other end.

"Just a large sleeping shirt," you answered slowly, eyebrows knitted as your ears strained trying to hear the wet, slick sound that had started threading through his breathing. "...Naoya-sama?"

"Just a shirt? Nothin' under it? You sleep like that when you're not under my roof? Any woman sleeping half-naked in a house that isn't her man's is - Fuck-"

"Naoya-sama? What-"

"Shit. Shit, shit—" His voice fractured and pitched higher than you'd ever heard it. "I'm fuck I'm cummin', I'm cummin', I'm-”

"You're coming? Where? To me? Naoya-sama, you don't have to drive out to see me."

"No fuck, I'm cumming to you — goddamn woman, you're so fuckin' dumb, that's what nngh that's what makes it-" His voice broke off into a high, needy moan. "Hah of fuck!”

The sound that followed was the worst one yet. It was a helpless whine that was pulled out of his lungs like it had been dragged up against his will, and beneath it, the slick, wet rhythm began to falter and slow down. A muffled thump was heard from what you assumed was him finally resting against his pillow followed by a shuddered exhale.

Then silence except for his ragged breathing.

...oh

Realization crashed down on you all at once, hot and utterly humiliating, crawling up your neck and sinking into your brain.

You sat there as you heard him catch his breath, too shocked to even hang up. No man had ever…done something like that to you. You feel your body burn from embarrassment that you talked through the entire time, meanwhile you were giving him masturbation material.

"Hey. I know you're still there. I can hear you breathin'. Don't get shy on me n—”

You hung up, not caring if it passed him off.

He's exploiting me

You thought in utter frustration, clutching the phone. Using his authority and the forced proximity to do whatever he pleased. From making you share his bed to the sudden kissing. Hell, the 'water rationing' bath policy was probably a load of bullshit, too. First thing in the morning, you were going back to the estate, and you were going to establish boundaries.

As you rehearsed what you'd say, your phone vibrated from an image notification from him.

Against your better judgment, and with trembling fingers, you tapped the image open.

His face was flushed a deep, splotchy pink from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. His hair was damp and stuck to his forehead while his eyelids were heavy in post-orgasmic haze. But the photo wasn't just his face. The camera traveled down the hard line of his stomach, and lower, past a coarse patch of dark green curls and lower still, to-

You dropped the phone face-down onto the mattress like it had physically burned you.

But it was too late. The image was permanently seared into your retinas. The piercings. Plural. There was one thick, curved ring pushed through the tip, glinting beneath the flash, and a full ladder of heavy barbells climbing the underside of his thick shaft, thoroughly slicked with his own cum.

He hadn't had those before. Which meant he'd gotten them after…that day, and there was only one reason an arrogant man like Naoya would voluntarily subject his most sensitive anatomy to that kind of excruciating pain.

The caption read:

all for you.

You locked your phone for the night and squeezed your eyes shut, trying desperately to think of anything else. Eventually, entirely overwhelmed, you drifted off to sleep.

—--

The next morning, after a shower and a quiet breakfast, your friend drove you back to the estate. She asked if you were okay and you lied and said you were so hugged you at the gate then waved goodbye.

Alone now as you walked, the estate was so quiet that it was almost distracting. Unfortunately, you almost walked straight into Ranta as you rounded a corner.

"Oh- sorry, Ranta-sama."

He flinched.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he gave you an awkward smile.

"Ah, it's no problem. And please, you don't have to call me Ranta-sama. Ranta-san is fine."

His gaze dropped briefly to your throat, the choker really, and something passed over his face that you couldn't quite read but whatever it was, he caught himself quickly and looked away.

"I- yeah. Anyway." He shifted his weight, clearly wanting to end the conversation. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

He stepped around you and kept walking a little too quickly.

You stood there a moment longer than you should have, fingertips drifting up to the leather at your throat. That had been… strange. You shook that feeling and continued walking. Maybe the wake had him on edge. Still, you had bigger things to worry about today.

—----

You eventually tracked Naoya down to the private hot spring on the north side of the estate. Not wanting to talk to him while he was naked you'd turned to leave when his voice cut through the humid air.

"Oh? Couldn't even wait for your day off to be over?" The water sloshing as he spoke. "Aw, look at you. Missed me that much?"

You turned to face him as he grinned at you. However it then turned into a scowl as he examined what you were wearing which was just a plain shirt and jeans.

"Ugh. You know I hate that tomboy stuff." He waved a wet hand. "Take it off."

Your jaw tightened. "Actually, Naoya-sama. I came to talk to you about… what you did last night."

"Yeah?" He arched his brow. "So?"

"Our working relationship has become increasingly inappropriate." You said it as steadily as you could. "I've tolerated it for a while because I assumed you'd get bored and move on to another woman."

"What?" He laughed. "Now? Now you're concerned?" He spread his arms along the rim of the spring. "Woman, we've fucked. You rode me in my own goddamn car. You've slept in my bed. We've bathed together. I've had my tongue down your throat more times than I can count, but now, suddenly, you wanna draw a line?"

His eyes narrowed.

"Need I remind you of your debt?"

"How much is left?" You quickly respond. "I ask, and you never actually tell me."

His mouth twitched at that. Then he tilted his head up to think about it for a second.

"You've got half of it paid off," he said eventually. "And if you want the other half gone too, I'd suggest you stop bein' so sensitive about every little thing."

His phone alarm chirped from the wooden shelf beside the spring. He clicked his tongue and rose out of the water.

You snapped your head to the side, and were annoyed he didn't give you a warning. You heard fabric rustling and assumed he was putting on a robe.

"You can look, you know. Nothin' you haven't already-" He cut himself off with a satisfied hum. "Anyway. Today's my brother's wake so you're coming with me. I'll even pay you overtime, since you came all the way back on your time off." He said mockingly. "Now go change.”

---

You understood that since this was a wake and not the formal funeral, it wouldn't be entirely somber, but honestly, most of the people here just looked bored. A few clan members were already drunk. Naoya being one of them.

"C'mere, you. Stop sulkin' and smile more."

He stepped up behind you and wrapped his arms around you in a lazy back hug right in the middle of the reception hall, in full view of his relatives. He swayed side to side, squeezing you tighter against his chest.

"Naoya-sama, are you okay? Do you need to lie down?"

"What?" He chuckled, breath warm against your ear. "Nah. I'm drunk, but 'm not faded."

You took a moment to scan the room. You'd seen the Zenin family photos before and based on the size of the turnout, most of the clan had come. That made the absence of Maki and Toji all the more prominent. You didn't know enough about their family politics to guess whether that was by invitation or by choice, and asking Naoya directly would almost certainly sour his mood.

Naoya's chin came to rest on the top of your head.

"I know what you're thinkin'. I can practically hear it stewin' in that brain of yours. ‘Where's Maki and Toji. Shouldn't they be here.’" He snorted. "Pff. Of course that woman wouldn't show up. Too much of a coward and my brother was a loser, so of course Toji wouldn't come all the way out here for that. He's got better things to do."

One of his older brothers cut across the room toward you before you could respond.

"Naoya." His eyes flicked between the two of you with open disdain. "Stop procrastinating. The will's about to be read."

"Mm." Naoya didn't lift his chin off your head to move.

"Naoya."

"I heard you the first time. Damn." Naoya finally straightened and rolled his eyes for your benefit, as if you two were sharing a private joke at his brother's expense. "After you then."

His brother turned and walked off without waiting. Naoya drained his sake, set the cup on a passing tray, and tugged you along by the hand.

You trailed him down a quieter corridor, the sound of the ambient music fading behind heavy sliding doors. At the threshold of a private room, his brother stopped and held up a hand without turning around.

"Zenin family only."

You stopped where you were, already half-bowing an apology when Naoya's hand closed around your wrist.

"She goes where I go." His voice had gone flat as the drunken drawl quickly disappeared. "Move."

For a moment, his brother didn't. You could see the muscle working in his jaw from the side. Then, without a word, he stepped aside and Naoya pulled you through.

The room was small, tatami-floored, with a low lacquered table at its center and cushions arranged around it. Naobito was already seated at the head, picking at his cuticles and looked entirely uninterested in the proceedings. Five of Naoya's brothers were arranged around the table in various poses of boredom and irritation when two looked up when you entered. One of them glanced at Naobito as if expecting him to say something about an outsider being present but Naobito didn't even look up.

Naoya steered you to a cushion slightly behind his own. He settled in front of you, before turning to look at you and motioning with his hands for you to sit up straighter. As you did the executor cleared his throat and began.

It was, as these things went, remarkably brief.

”Accordingly, the entirety of the decedent's holdings, liquid and otherwise, revert in full to the head of the clan, Zenin Naobito."

Several of the brothers groaned out loud, complaining bitterly that this whole event was a massive waste of their time. Naoya, completely indifferent to his brother's passing and the lack of an inheritance, pulled out his phone to read about anime related news.

"That's it?" one of them said, too loudly. "That's what we dragged ourselves out here for?"

The other family members quickly dispersed, eager to leave the stifling room. You and Naoya, however, stayed behind. He sat there until the room had emptied and only then did he rise and offer you his hand.

"C'mon," he said. "I need some air. You too."

---

He led you out through a side door and down a garden path that curved away from the reception hall. The late afternoon had softened into a warm gold, and the cicadas had started up in the pines. A stone lantern sat at the end of the path, beside a small koi pond whose surface flickered with the shapes of fish moving beneath. Naoya walked you to it and stopped, letting go of your hand to brace both of his on the wooden railing.

He exhaled, long and slow, as if he'd been holding something in the entire time.

"Did you see my brothers in there?" he scoffed, his lip curling in a display of utter disgust. "Absolute wastes of oxygen, every single one of them. Theyy spend their entire miserable lives whining about inheritances they lack the strength to earn. I'm the youngest brother, yet the gap between us is comical. Power, technique, status yet I'm already the best this clan has produced in generations. It's almost embarrassing sharing a last name with people that weak.”

He glanced sideways at you.

"But you..." he murmured, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across his face. "You understand that hierarchy. You know exactly who is at the top, and you know your place beneath me. You do what you're told, you obey my orders, and you don't have pathetic delusions like the rest of those talentless hacks. Out of everyone I know, I can actually tolerate you. That's why I keep you close, y'know."

You didn't say anything. You weren't sure there was a right answer, and the sake on his breath was making you wary of what shape this conversation was about to take.

"You're not like that." He turned to face you, leaning his hip against the railing. "You're not clever enough to be. And I mean that as a compliment. Women scheme all the time, but you? Your feelings are too earnest for it. Don't lie I've seen how you look at me when you think I'm not looking.

"I don't do that."

"You do." He smiled for a second. "It's cute."

He looked out across the pond.

“I hate those that are weak, always have, but even though you're a woman you have strength within you." He bites his lip. “I still think about that day in the car. How you overpowered me in a way only a woman could — no, you were the only woman that could ever do that to me.”

He turned around and began to move closer to you.

"I trust you. That's rare, for me. Don't take it lightly."

"Naoya-sama I-"

"Let me finish." He held up a hand. "I've been sitting on this a while. Figured today was as good a day as any. Get it done before my old man can try and arrange somethin' stupid for me behind my back."

You felt anxious as he took a step closer.

"With my bloodline and your technique, you'd breed amazing sons; powerful heirs. They'd have immense cursed energy reserves, and you're sturdy enough to properly carry them without breaking.”

Your stomach sank. Breed amazing sons? Why is he saying this and at his own brother's wake no less.

"You've got the body for it, too." He looked you up and down. "Your hips are wide enough. No weird hereditary shit I'd have to worry about. You eat clean, you don't smoke, you don't sleep around. Never met a woman who checked that many boxes."

He walked closer to you until he was able to reach out and thumb lightly at the leather of your choker before tracing the line of your jaw. All of his yapping, the midnight stroll into the gardens, the gloating about his superiority. It had all been a precursor.

Naoya casually fished his free hand into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box, removed his hand from your face to open it, and held it out at chest level. Inside sat a massive, glittering diamond ring that easily cost more than your entire house.

"So, we're getting married." He grinned. "You'll move into my wing permanently. The rest of your debt is cleared the second you sign the registry, obviously. Now give me your hand.”

You stared at him as the realization hit. He was proposing to you at his own brother's wake.

"...no.” You responsed. Shattering whatever fantasy he created.

You backed away from him. For the first time since you had met him, Naoya's perpetually arrogant face contorted into an expression of pure shock. You felt your heart hammering against your ribs as you braced yourself for his inevitable furious reaction. However, as the seconds seemed to stretch on it never came so you took that to your advantage.

“I need to go"

The words spilled out of your mouth in a panicked rush, a desperate attempt to escape before his wounded pride caught up with the situation. You turned on your heel and practically bolted down the cobblestone path.

As you glanced back over your shoulder one last time, you saw him still standing by the koi pond, swallowed by the shadows of the estate. The expression on his face sent a chill down your spine. It looked as though something had just snapped inside of him. A suffocating feeling of dread flooded your veins as your instincts screamed at you to leave before he did something dangerous.

You kept walking until one block became two and then three.

You flagged down a cab as you entered the main part of the city. When the driver asked for a destination, you blurted out the name of a train station miles past where you actually needed to go. You would figure out the proper route home later; for now, you just needed to put as much distance between yourself and that compound as possible.

Soon, your body relaxed as well as it could and you felt yourself sinking into the cushioned seats. Your nerves were so on edge you didn't even want to think about what just happened, but you couldn't. He proposed to you for God sake — at his brother's wake. After almost a year of constant sexual harassment he thought it was a good idea to propose.

When the cab finally arrived at the train station your hands were shaking as you paid him, fingers barely able to hold onto the money before you just gave him what you could and left. The train station was basically deserted as you paid for a ticket and sat down in the lobby.

You could barely get a breath in with your choker on. It had always been comfortably snug but now it felt like it was choking you out.

The choker is the property, dummy. Not you.

His words flash through your head and it seemingly cinches the choker even tighter. Your fingers were trembling as they attempted to undo the clasp in the back.

Don't take it off while you're working. It'd be an insult.

Your fingers can't even catch on anything as you try and fail to take it off. Not wanting to work yourself into an even deeper panic you give up. When you get home to the estate — NO! When you get back to your real home then you'll just use some scissors to cut it off. However, as you wait for your train to come you begin to think.

He could have easily caught up to me and stopped me. Why didn't he?

—-

When the train arrives at your stop you rehearse your plan you came up with on the way here. You were going to take out a loan to pay them back, reapply at your old job, and then work double shifts to pay everything back. It wasn't ideal but you'd do whatever it takes to just be done with the Zenins — with Naoya.

As you reach your house you realize it looks…different? Different how you don't know, but something just feels off. You go to unlock your door but it won't turn. The house is old so you assume it's jammed as you try again, and again, and again. With each failed turn your anxiety begins to spike. Why won't it unlock? Why does the lock look different? Why is there now a locked gate to get into your backyard? Why-

But it was all starting to come together wasn't it. He'd been isolating you, deceiving you into breaking boundaries — hell, he was probably going to trick you about whatever new uniform he said he got you. For now you need to think about your current state. You were locked out of your house, deep in debt to a man that wanted to marry you, and this stupid choker won't come off. Deciding then and there you'd have to get one thing solved and that was what Naoya had done to your house. You walked to your car and was pleasantly surprised nothing was done to that either.

—--

You arrived at the estate late at night, pulling your car into the quiet gloom of the garage near Naoya's wing. The only people awake at this hour were the estate's night owls, guards, and a few restless servants. They barely spared you a glance, already entirely too accustomed to your presence. After all, Naoya had made sure you were granted 24/7 access.

As you hurried down the dimly lit corridor toward his room, your mind racing with a mixture of adrenaline and dread, your foot caught on the edge of a floorboard. You stumbled forward and collided into a chest.

"Oof, be careful there." A familiar voice grunted.

You scrambled back, immediately bowing your head in a flustered apology. "I'm so sorry, I wasn't looking."

You turned to rush past, desperate to get your mission over with, but a hand gently caught your arm, stopping you in your tracks.

It was Ranta. He looked exhausted, likely heading back from late-night training, but when he recognized you, his posture straightened into a politer stance.

"Ah, it's just you," Ranta said, his eyes dropping briefly to the heavy leather choker at your throat before meeting your gaze with an awkward smile. "Heading to Naoya's room so late? Actually... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Congratulations, by the way."

Your blood ran ice-cold. You froze, your voice barely more than a whisper. "Congratulations?"

Ranta chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah. He's been bragging for months about how he's going to lock you down today. Claimed he was making you his wife and moving you in permanently. Honestly, with how attached you are to him, we all saw it coming. I guess I'll have to get used to calling you 'madam' one day, huh?"

He gave you a polite nod, letting go of your arm, and continued down the hall.

You stood rooted to the floorboards, a sickening wave of nausea washing over you. He’d been telling people for months. The proposal at the wake wasn't a spur-of-the-moment decision; it was a calculated trap. He was so incredibly arrogant that he had already declared you his fiancée to the entire clan before he'd even bothered to ask you. He had sabotaged your house, isolated your finances, and trapped you in his bed, all while proudly telling his men that he'd already won.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands trembling as you turned toward his closed sliding door.

Ok, around this time he's usually asleep. Just got to sneak in.

You press your trembling fingers against the wooden frame of his door, holding your breath as you apply slow, even pressure. You bless your lucky stars when the heavy sliding door glides open quietly.

The smell hit you first. Whiskey, sake, and something sweet. Wine, maybe. You stepped inside and your foot nudged something that rolled away with a soft clink. You looked down.

Bottles. Scattered across the floor. A half-empty decanter tipped onto its side near the foot of the bed, a dark stain blooming into the fibers of an expensive rug he'd once lectured to never get stained since it's hard to remove. An empty glass sat precariously on the edge of his nightstand, a ring of condensation eating into the wood. He would’ve lost his mind over that on any other night.

It’s a stark contrast to the meticulous environment Naoya usually demands. You move with agonizing slowness, carefully picking your path. Every step is meticulously calculated as your toes find the narrow gaps between the glass bottles. One clumsy move and this entire desperate mission would be over.

When you finally navigate that minefield and reach the edge of his bed, the sight before you makes you freeze.

Naoya is sprawled across the expensive silk sheets, completely knocked unconscious in a drunken stupor. He was still in his clothes from the wake but his clothes were now wrinkled and unkept.

His lashes were damp, clumped, and spiked where tears had dried against them. The dark mascara he'd had on was smudged and the skin around his eyes was puffy and raw, flushed a blotchy pink. The kohl he lined his waterline with had bled, running in thin, uneven streaks down the crest of his cheekbones; two dark rivulets on both sides where he'd evidently wiped at them and only made it worse.

His lower lip was bitten and split in one small spot. A smear of something dark streaked the pillowcase where his cheek had pressed into it. One earring had come loose at some point and lay tangled in a sweat-damp lock of hair at his temple.

He had been crying. The "perfect" Zenin prodigy and untouchable Apex Male, had thrown a tantrum and drank himself into a weeping stupor simply because his favorite possession had dared to tell him no.

You looked at him again and saw a tear begin to form in eyes.

A twinge of sympathy tugs at your chest. A cruel byproduct of your ingrained nature as a healer and you have to stop yourself from using your technique. Stop yourself from smoothing the hair off his forehead. Stop yourself from using your technique to ease the headache that was going to split his skull open in the morning.

You curse yourself for feeling even a sliver of pity for this man. How could you feel sorry for him after the humiliation he had put you through? You touch the heavy leather collar locked around your throat, a physical reminder of his abuse. He had systematically dismantled your entire life, isolated you from your friends, sabotaged your home, and caged you in debt — all for what? To wear you down to a hollow shell so you wouldn't have the strength to say no when he finally decided to claim you as his wife.

You harden your heart, letting the anger replace the fear.

I just need to grab his phone and see if there's any evidence he had something to do with my house.

You slowly reach toward him, holding your breath as you slip your hand into the deep pocket of his slacks. Your knuckles brush against his thigh, and he shifts with a garbled, drunken mumble. You freeze in terror, your heart plummeting to your stomach, but he just exhales a heavy breath of alcohol and settles back into the mattress. With agonizing care, you pinch the edge of his device and pull it free.

The screen lights up in your hand to his lock screen, casting a harsh blue glow over his tear-stained, ruined makeup.

Think. Think. What could the password possibly be.

His birthday. Your birthday. The date of whatever horoscope nonsense he'd tried to show you in bed last week.

Deciding to start with the most basic brute-force attempt before trying to psychoanalyze him, you tap in four zeros.

The lock screen disappears and you're welcomed by his home screen. Laughter escapes you at how simple minded he is sometimes.

However, your laughter dies in your throat the second your eyes adjust to his home screen.

It isn't a picture of his cousin Toji anymore. The lock screen of his idol had been entirely replaced by a new photo of the two of you. It was a selfie he must have taken while you were dozing next to him one evening. In the picture, his arm is wrapped possessively around you, his cheek pressed against you, and his usually sharp eyes are soft, practically glowing with adoration.

You hate yourself for how genuinely sweet it looks. If someone saw this without context, they’d think he was just a deeply devoted, loving boyfriend. You force yourself to ignore it for now and quickly tap into his messages to find the evidence you need.

You open his texting app, bracing yourself to sift through dozens of women's numbers. However, to your surprise, while he has a massive contact list, his recent message history is startlingly narrow. He almost exclusively texts his father and the members of the Hei.

You tap into the Hei group chats first, hoping to find some mention of your house. Instead, you find him getting a masterclass in toxic leadership. It is mostly his squad sending him detailed mission reports, requests for orders, or updates on curses, which he either completely ignores or dismisses with one-word replies and an occasional thumbs-up reaction. You briefly question why a man who so clearly despises his subordinates would even fight to be their captain, but you don't have the luxury of time to ponder it.

You back out of the Hei chats and open the thread with his father.

The text thread is massive, holding over a decade's worth of communication. Taking a deep breath, you furiously swipe up until the timestamps align with the week you first met him.

Found something interesting. More proof why I'm your fav son♥️

That's just a coincidence. It has to be. However, your heart begins to sink as you continue to read more of his texts.

Old Man

2025 April 3

Naoya: Gimmie ¥7000. I found some termites for cheap.

Naobito: Make sure it looks natural. Don't leave a paper trail by buying them online.

Old Man

April 3 1105

Naoya: How good are you at forgery?

Naobito: Passable. Why?

Naoya: The deed to her house. I want it

Naobito: Don't complain to me when she catches on.

Naoya: She won't. She's too docile. Plus, she basically begged me to make her my wife today.

Your breath hitches. Make her my wife today?

You look at the date of that last text. It was from the afternoon you both ate at the café. You had been entirely checked out, just nodding along with a polite smile so he would finish his rant faster.

A wave of nausea washes over you. Is that what he thought I agreed to? He had taken your nervous, placating nods as an enthusiastic acceptance of marriage.

You keep reading, skipping past mundane discussions about clan politics and curses, until your eyes land on a block of recent texts discussing legal documents. You read the words deed theft.

Your hands are trembling so violently you can barely hold the device. They hadn't just sabotaged your grandparents' home with pests — they had forged your signature on the property transfer documents. They legally stole your house. That was why the locks were different. That was why there was a gate. He had stolen your only avenue of escape, and then had the sheer audacity to propose to you at his brother's wake.

And he didn't even stand on one knee!

These people are insane! Panic restricts your throat. I need… fuck, I need to get away from him.

You glance over your shoulder. Thankfully, Naoya is still completely out cold and quietly snoring away.

You need more evidence. If you go to the police with just text messages, the Zenin clan's lawyers will squash you instantly. You back out of the messages app and navigate to his phone's file system, tapping into the folder to open his photo gallery.

Given the sappy, devoted selfie he used for his lock screen, you expect to see a timeline of similar, secretly taken photos. Pictures of you sleeping, eating, or working. Vanilla, obsessive stalker material.

You couldn't be more wrong.

Photo. After photo. After photo.

You, asleep, in the bath, and one of you naked. You're unconscious and slack-jawed with a thin string of saliva on your chin, your bra unclasped and pushed aside, his hand in frame cupping your breast.

Another of you spread open with his fingers inside you. Your expression was peaceful all the while he violated you. Then another of you on your stomach and his cock buried in you to the hilt.

You couldn't breathe.

Your thumb kept scrolling because if you stopped, you'd have to think about how many nights…how many nights you'd crawled into his bed, let his arm wrap across your waist as you told yourself the uneasy feeling under your skin didn't mean anything.

The scrolling wouldn't end. You blinked and realized you were barely a quarter of the way down.

You gave up on the photos and switched to his videos and tapped the oldest.

The video loaded onto a shot of your old room. You were curled on your side in that old threadbare sleeping shirt you used to love, the one you'd thrown out months ago because he'd called it too masculine. Moonlight came in through the window and shone on your body as you slept

The camera shakes slightly as Naoya's hand reaches into the frame. He grips the hem of your shirt and roughly shoves it up past your breasts, exposing you to the cold air.

His fingers hover over your chest before brutally pinching one of your nipples. You shift in your sleep with a soft whimper, but you don't wake up.

"Look at you. Whore" His voice was low and venomous. "Thought you could get away with how you used me last month? Want to act like some prude, as if I hadn't came inside you."

His hand leaves your chest and shoots up to wrap firmly around your throat, his thumb pressing dangerously hard against your windpipe.

"Try that shit again and it'll be the last thing you do."

The video immediately cuts to black.

You instinctively reach up, fingers brushing the heavy leather choker still clamped around your own neck. A phantom pressure closes over your windpipe, suffocating you. You don't have the stomach to watch the hundreds of videos in between. Desperate to know his most immediate plans, you scroll past the rest and tap the most recent thumbnail, recorded just a few nights ago.

This time he was laying in bed next to you as he recorded.

"Women sleep so quietly." He murmured.

He reaches out, his fingers surprisingly gentle this time, as he takes your limp hand, sliding his thumb to press over the pulse point on your wrist.

"If it wasn't for your heartbeat, I'd swear on my old man's life you were dead."

He holds it there for a a bit then, his other hand trails down your cheek, tracing your jawline before slipping beneath the heavy duvet to rest flat against your lower stomach.

"Soon enough, it'll be two heartbeats.”

Two heartbeats.

You aren't even surprised. With everything that has happened recently it is the only logical conclusion. Like the extreme, patriarchal traditionalist he is, locking you into a pregnancy is the ultimate, inescapable shackle.

What is important now is…what, exactly?

They had changed the locks to your own home, and even if you managed to find the new key, Naoya would eventually just look for you there. You definitely couldn't stay at your friend's place and drag her into this nightmare, risking her safety against a clan of ruthless sorcerers.

The only thing you knew for absolute certainty was that you needed to get away from this estate. You needed to run, drop off the grid, and figure out a way to file a massive legal case.

You slide his phone back into his pocket and flinch as he softly sniffles in his sleep. But he just turns his head and settles back into the pillows.

You sneak out of his bedroom, sliding the heavy door shut as quietly as possible. Standing alone in the dark corridor, you begin frantically thinking about what essentials you need to pack.

ou curse yourself for being so blind. You essentially have nothing. He had systematically stripped you of your independence until you existed solely off his "generosity."

I have enough petty cash in my purse to stay at a cheap motel for a week. I'll take a cab, find a new job, and figure everything else out from there.

First things first, you need to get this damned choker off your neck.

You hurry through the silent halls to his private kitchen and rummage through the drawers until you pull out a pair of scissors. You wedge the blades carefully between your skin and the black leather of the choker and squeeze the handles together.

Clink—skrrt.

The blades slide clumsily against each other, failing to bite through. You frown, repositioning them to get a better angle, and squeeze again, using both hands this time.

Clink—skrrt.

It won't cut through. It doesn't even feel like it's piercing the material.

Panic fluttering in your chest, you quickly pull out your phone and open the front-facing camera, zooming in and angling the screen to see what is blocking the blades.

Where the shears had scraped away a tiny sliver of the expensive black leather, something caught the dim kitchen light. It wasn't just thick leather or heavy fabric. Underneath was a thick, reinforced metal chain.

You drop the scissors onto the counter and a horrifying chill runs down your spine.

No wonder I couldn't get this thing off me. It isn't a choker. It's a literal collar.

You'd hastily made it back to your car and got inside when suddenly Naoya stumbled in. If looks could kill was the best way to describe how he was looking at you. He then walked over to a switch that locked the garage doors.

"Get out the car."

With nowhere left to run, you obeyed. The moment your feet touched concrete, something clicked against your collar. You didn't even register him moving when he did it and then the sudden, sharp yank that sent you stumbling forward into his chest. You caught yourself against him and looked up.

His eyes were ice cold. When you tried to pull back, he gave the leash another short tug.

"Why is there a chain in my choker?" Your voice came out panicked.

His gaze slid sideways as it caught on the ragged, scissor-torn sliver of leather. He clicked his tongue in disappointment.

"Tch. Of course you'd fuck up your collar like that." He thumbed at the damaged edge tenderly. "You know I spent good money to have that custom-made." He completely ignored your question, raising much more concerning ones in the process.

Collar. Not choker. He hadn't even tried to correct himself..

As he examined the damage, you studied him. His pupils were blown wide in an unnerving way. He hadn't cleaned off his face as it still bled his mascara in uneven streaks down his cheekbones. It was a state no Zenin man was ever supposed to be in but he didn't seem to care about that in front of you.

"I know about the termites." You forced out. "I know about my house. I know you paid your father to forge the contract. I know you told everyone for months we were getting married." You swallowed. "Why? Why have you been doing this to me?"

He didn't answer.

Instead he turned on his heel and gave the leash a sharp jerk. With your remaining resolve you threw your hand up and summoned the orb, dumping a small flood of opioids into his system.

His knees buckled as his hand flew to the hood of the car to catch himself. A low moan slipped past his lips as his eyes fluttered.

You slapped the switch back on and dove for the driver's seat as your thumb jabbed the ignition button.

Nothing.

Again.

Nothing

You heard tapping against the passenger window.

You turned your head and Naoya was standing there with your car keys dangling from his hand. He gave them a lazy little jingle and offered you a smile as his drug-wide eyes looked at you. Then he unlocked the passenger side, and let himself in.

"We've been dating for about a year now, and I couldn't figure out why you turned me down. Took me a while, but I got it. Modern women. They're too independent nowadays. Don't believe in marriage anymore. Happy to act like a man's wife for years and years. Eat his food, sleep in his bed, take his cock, but the second he wants to make it official, suddenly they've got cold feet."

His hand found the end of the leash on the console between you. He wound it slowly around his knuckles, inch by inch.

"No." You said desperately . "No, it's not…I'm not ‘too independent’, we haven't been dating. You're my client and that's it. That's all you've ever been."

It didn't even seem like he'd heard you.

To him, you were the delusional one. You're the one who'd spent a year eating at his table, sleeping under his arm, bathing in his tub, eating alongside him and who now was pretending none of it had meant anything. Currently the look he was giving you made it painfully clear that simple marriage wasn't going to satiate him anymore.

"I still think about that day when we first made love. Remember how you said you were sorry for leakin' your pussy juices all over my nice clothes? How you told me you loved me?"

You froze. You barely thought about that night, mostly because the venom from that cursed spirit had blurred your memory into a hazy fever dream. But even still... had you actually said that?

"Plenty of women have been in love with me." His voice had gone faraway and dreamy. "But they were all weak. Which is natural — they're women, that's just what women are. But the fact that you managed to beat me in your own little way. That was…"

He searched for the word. His tongue piercing caught against his teeth as his mouth worked.

"Beautiful."

He wound the leash even tighter.

"You're beautiful."

Then he was kissing you.

You gasped against him and he took that as an invitation. His tongue pushed past your lips, and the smooth, warm bead of his piercing dragged across the roof of your mouth, then flicked over your own tongue. You shuddered involuntarily and he hummed into the kiss. When he finally pulled back, he didn't go far and his breath ghosted against your wet lips.

"Your new uniform." He gave the leash a small tug. "It was this. I know you're into that kinky stuff. I saw what you watch so I knew you'd like it."

"Nao-"

He yanked.

You pitched forward across the console, half-sprawled over his lap, breath punched out of you. His free hand found your waist and guided you the rest of the way until you were straddling him.

"Enough talking." He said. The lazy drawl gone from his tone. "As my wife, you speak when I ask for your opinion. I've let you play independent long enough."

His hands found your ass through your robes and squeezed. Then, with one sharp pull, he dragged the fabric off your shoulders and let it pool around your hips. Your arms snapped up on instinct to cover your chest.

"Pitiful how you won't stop trying to cover what's mine," he sneered. "You're not even a pure woman anymore. I wish you'd stop acting like one.”

Unfazed, he ripped a long strip of fabric from the ruined garment, wrenched your arms behind your back and bound your wrists together. With your arms locked at the small of your back, the position pushed your chest forward right in front of his face.

His annoyance melted as his eyelids went heavy as he pressed you back until your bare spine met the steering wheel.

Then he leaned in.

His mouth closed over one of your nipples and the small metal bead of his tongue piercing dragged across the peak in a slow circle. Your body betrayed you as your nipple tightened under his tongue as his other hand found your other breast and kneaded it.

He bit down in a gentle warning and pulled off with a wet pop.

His lips were glistening and when his eyes lifted to yours they were entirely lucid now. Whatever drugs you'd dumped into him had burned away.

"The noises you make," he murmured fondly, "are so vulgar, but you're my woman. So I'll allow it."

He tugged the leash.

"Such a gracious husband, aren't I?"

He yanks at your leash.

You nodded quickly and the collar bit into your throat from the motion.

"Yes, you're a very gracious boyfriend to me ack!"

The leash snapped taut. You choked on the end of the word, a hot, ugly pressure blooming against your windpipe.

"Husband." His voice lacking patience. "I'm your gracious husband. Say it."

He yanks at your leash

You nodded quickly and the collar bit into your throat from the motion.

"Yes, you're a very gracious boyfriend to me ack!"

The leash snapped taut. You choked on the end of the word, a hot, ugly pressure blooming against your windpipe.

"Husband." His voice lacking patience. "I'm your gracious husband. Say it."

You coughed some more as he glared at you.

"You're a gracious husband, Naoya-sama. Please…can we just talk first?"

He shook his head in mock disappointment.

"I'm really gonna have to teach you how to be a proper woman, aren't I?" He sighed as though the burden of your education was just one more thing he'd have to personally shoulder. "Women shouldn't bother their husbands with their opinions. If it were any other day, I'd put that mouth of yours toward somethin' actually useful."

He pulled and tore the remnants of your clothes away, leaving you entirely bare before him. Lowering his hand, he crooked his fingers upward in an expectant, commanding gesture

"Go on, then. I'm not doing all the work for you.”

You looked at him, searching his gaze for any trace of sympathy, but found a nothing instead. Trembling, you pushed yourself up and slowly began to lower your hips. As soon as you felt his fingertips probe against you, you hesitated only for Naoya’s hand to slam down on your shoulder, brutally shoving you the rest of the way down. With nothing to grip to steady yourself you couldn't keep balance. You gasped in shock as four of his fingers carelessly stretched you open.

"You're taking too long, woman. Hurry up so we can consummate our engagement.”

His hand on your shoulder was the only thing keeping you upright. You used it as an anchor. Rocking forward and back on his fingers with the clumsy, uneven rhythm. Your cheeks burned and sweat beaded at your temples as you're forced to ride his fingers purely for Naoya's entertainment.

Then, without warning, he lifted his hand away.

You pitched forward, bumping against him before you could catch yourself. With your wrists bound, there was nowhere for the weight to go. You scrambled to find your balance against his chest, knees skidding on the seat, and he laughed as you did.

"Look at you. More proof you need a man to support you. Now-"

He slid his slick fingers free of you and you whined at the sudden emptiness despite yourself. His free hand shoved his pants and boxers down past his hips and his cock sprang up against his stomach — thick, already flushed a deep red, as bead of precum welling at the tip.

The piercings glinted in the light.

You had seen them in the photograph he'd sent you, but seeing them in person was something else entirely.

"Ride me." He demanded, lazily stroking his own shaft.

You lifted onto your knees, and without your arms to balance you, you swayed. You aimed and felt the blunt, ringed head of him slide along the inside of your thigh and smear a hot streak of precum against your skin. You tried again but missed as your knee slipped on the upholstery and you caught yourself against his chest with a small, mortified sound.

He didn't help and just watched you. To him, it was like watching a kitten falling down a few stairs.

"I got them for you, you know." He said affectionately. "Found your old phone a while back. Saw all that porn you watched." He tilted his head. "I know you like guys with these kinds of piercings, so I got them done. Endured that whole mess for you." He clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"Although," His smile sharpened. “while we're on the subject, no more porn. Not without me. If you wanna watch that stuff, we watch it together, yeah?"

You didn't answer as you tried and failed again to slip his cock inside of you.

Growing tired of the show. His other hand found your hips as he lifted you effortlessly. He lined himself up and you felt the curved bead of his piercing pressing against your entrance causing your whole body seized.

He grinned up at you and then immediately let go of your hips, causing your entire body weight to sink down on him at once. Every barbell of the ladder dragged against your inner walls on the way down and you were trembling so hard your teeth were chattering.

"Ahh! “'s too much…why did you do that?"

“Whoops" He chuckled. “You’re heavier than I expected. Must be these fat tits weighing you down."

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to ground yourself. If you could just hold onto something, maybe it would help distract you from the overwhelming feeling of being so unbearably full.

He responded by snapping your leash, jerking you forward and kissing you. His tongue pushed in, twisting against yours, as the piercing dragged against the slick and warm roof of your mouth. You forced your eyes open in surprise only to see his were already open, watching you, pupils blown so wide the brown of his irises had nearly drowned. He wanted to see your face while he did this. He bit your lip as he pulled back

"See fuck see how your pussy's widenin' itself for me? You want me so bad, and damn woman if that isn't hot.”

He gripped your hips again and starting to lift you up and down his cock. He had always been overwhelmingly strong, and to your horror, your body betrayed you. Growing wetter at the as he fucked you on his cock. The friction from his piercings was too sensitive for you, and he chuckled darkly at how tightly you were gripping him.

"So wet for me." His voice had gone thick and slurred. He sounded almost drunk again. "Ooohh the piercings feel good, right baby? 'Nd they're all for you. Only you.”

His pace picked up and the car began to rock faintly on its suspension. The leash was a taut line between his fist and your throat, and every time he dropped you back onto his cock, the tension in it spiked just slightly against your windpipe. The repeated rhythmic pressure made the edges of your vision blur.

"Stop!" You said panicking. "Stop, I'm not on the pill. We have to stop. Please!"

Because if you got pregnant, there would be no running. You would never get away from him. You would never get away from any of this. Even if you somehow managed to escape and terminate the pregnancy, you would be spiritually tied to him forever, burdened with the knowledge that you had conceived a child with him.

His palm cracked across your ass. You yelped, the pain white-hot and bright, and he didn't even break rhythm.

"Stop bein' so bossy, fuck." He spat back, offended you're still trying to tell him what to do. "You like when I fuck you like this, baby? Go on. Say it."

"No, please. I'm…please no"

He wasn't listening. He'd stopped listening the moment he saw you in the garage. Maybe long before that. His eyes were half-lidded and unfocused jaw slack, as his hips worked in a loose and easy rhythm that said he had all night and every night after, and the bruising grip on your hips said the matter of what you wanted had already been settled.

In your panicked, desperate mind, you blindly threw out the only words you thought might convince him to pause and listen.

"I ahh I love you! I love you so much!"

His whole body seized.

His hips snapped up and stayed there, buried to the hilt, and you felt his ringed piercing pressed so deep you thought he'd push it through your cervix. And then you felt it. The first thick shot of cum, and then another, and another, as his cock throbbed against your walls and he spilled inside you.

You sat there, frozen in shock. Realizing your desperate plan had backfired and instead made him cum on the spot.

"Yes!" The word came out of him in a broken, reverent gasp. "Yes fuck I love you. I love you too, woman, I ahh-"

His arms locked around you, hauling you down against his chest as he rode it out. His face pressed into the curve of your neck — mouth open, damp breath fanning against your collarbone and he was mumbling a steady, drunken stream of confession. I love you, I love you. Fuck, I knew it, I knew you loved me, you love me, say it again, say it…

His cum was already leaking out around him. Pooling at the hilt where you were still joined.

You started to sob.

Silently at first, the tears sliding down in fat lines. Then you couldn't hold it in at all, breaking sounds tore out of you and you pressed your forehead against his shoulder because there was nothing else to press it against, because your hands were tied behind your back, because there was nowhere left in the world for you to go.

He lifted one hand and spread his palm flat against your lower stomach. Then he looked back up at you and to your surprise he was crying too.

As his eyes watered, a bright smile spread across his face.

"I'm gonna be a dad."

Trending Blogs

Recently Viewed Blogs

minny