"𝕯𝖔𝖓'𝖙 𝖙𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖒𝖊." — YANDERE DAN HENG · IMBIBITOR LUNAE x FEMALE READER
𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 — nsfw, short prompt
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — Not proofread! Use of profanities, non-consensual display of affection, obsessive & possessive behavior, (brief insinuations/mentions of) breeding kink. Dan Heng bites and marks reader.
notation: any character participants are aged 18 and up. just for the record. I don't write sexual content for minors. please know that.
"I warned you," he huffed with mild irritation, as he thrusted himself inside of you for what seemed to be another, countless time. "Don't test me."
It was a bad enough idea when you had decided to argue, telling him that you'd find a way out, pointing out all the individual flaws of the manner in which he kept you trapped.
You'd begun to find solutions to your inescapable cage with this man, and it filled him with indignation, because he was entirely enraptured by you, and he refused to let you go. The very thought of you escaping was something he couldn't stand.
Being all alone was the last thing he needed.
Break his arms and legs, but he'll cling to you like there's no one else he loves more and needs.
But seeing as how you'd decided to try and make an attempt to escape, he had zero intent to let you go now, more than ever. He pondered on just what he'd do to finally ingrain in your head somewhere that you were not going to be leaving – not anytime soon, nor any time later.
He was fine doing anything and everything to keep you by his side.
He'd pump you full of his seed, fill you up with his cum day and night, if it'd remind you that you had no one and no place to go but him and only him, that you were meant to stay with him forever. You would be his and his alone. Right?
He couldn't bear the thought of someone else taking you away from him. With all that he's gone through, he at the very least deserves this. Wouldn't you agree?
Even so, you'd grown accustomed to the feel of your wrists bound by chains and cuffs above your head, your ankles tied down similarly whilst his tail coils around your waist, holding you down in place as he pushes in and out of you.
All nice and tied up, open and ready to take whatever was going to ruin you tonight.
Would it be his fingers, his tongue, or his cock this time?
It was a chilling feeling that never failed to scare you—the feeling of helplessness that the Vidyadhara always managed to incite within you. It terrified you—to be taken advantage of in such way without being able to do anything about it.
Whether his carnal instincts were led by his previous incarnation or not, you had not the slightest idea, and frankly, you didn't really want to know either.
All you could do was stay down while he fucked your brains out.
... You should probably watch your mouth the next time you're mad.
He drinks up your mewls, your abused, puffy hole unable to handle any more, but he licks your tears away, seemingly uncaring about how you beg him to stop. In his eyes, this is a punishment. If you keep acting like this, he really won't be able to be as kind as he wishes to be.
He doesn't mean to hurt you, and if you'd let him, oh how he'd worship your body without leaving a single mark, but he can't help himself if you keep behaving yourself like a brat.
Please, can't you comply at the very least once? Would it kill you to show some acceptance for him?
Maybe.
And with how many times he has cum inside you, it upsets him that you really can't be impregnated by him. It'd delight him to see your belly swollen with his baby, but alas, it's only a fantasy.
A fantasy that he can't help but try to indulge in every time he fucks you raw.
Perhaps it's a little wrong of him to enjoy how much you cry whenever he does this to you. Just maybe. Maybe. Your cheeks all red, stained with tears, pretty puffed lips all swollen because of his rough, frequent kisses — it makes his heart swell.
He loves it.
He loves you.
His face is nuzzled up in the crook of your neck, teeth sinking into the soft skin, leaving numerous red marks that most likely will stay for a long time, if not forever, his mouth moving to leave more bruises upon your skin to claim you as his own.
"Dan Heng—" You manage to moan, almost choking on your tears, feeling him push in and out with a rapidity you cannot measure. "'ts too much, 'm cumming, please, a-ah—!"
It's all too much. It hurts too much. You feel too much. Too much pain, too much pleasure, it's all mixing up and your brain by now has been reduced to mush, your words a babbling mess as you whine, whine, and whine, to a point where you don't know how you have not lost your voice.
"Mine, mine, mine, please, s' good," you hear him murmur incoherently to you, the only sound left in the area being the wet squelch, the slapping sounds of skin against skin, your unstable cries, and your sobbing along with his sweet moans as he makes love to you. "P-please, don't leave, mgh-"
Any trace of his gentle demeanor was thrown away from the moment he had you pressed on the mattress. There was only a burning need left in him.
A need only you could satiate.
An obsession that would never end.
And for what he's done to you, he knows you harbor hate, but he knows it makes you feel good, so why play pretend? ♡
A / N - It's a little shorter than usual, sorry </3 Writer's block has been absolutely demolishing me, but I'm hanging in there, I've got a few requests which I'm almost done with rn.. Sorry for the inactivity, I'll be hopefully posting more often if I'm not too burnt-out. Getting this one out so I can finally publish the Neuvi request..
A rhetorical question. You feel something snake around your waist. It's not an arm. You grit your teeth and force yourself to smile a bit, nodding as you shift in his arms.
This time, you feel lips press to your jawline. Soft. Gentle. He was anything but. You do feel a hand rub circles on your chest. Not to act on selfish needs to touch, but to simulate what humans defined as "comfort."
"Better?" he speaks up. The tentacle around your waist squeezes. It demands an answer. You will yourself not to shiver as you feel many such similar tendrils tighten their hold on you.
"Yes," you force yourself to remain still. Even so, you hear not as much as a laugh. You can picture his perfect smile, barely tugging at his lips, taunting, no, daring you to speak otherwise.
"Relax," he whispers. You shiver. "My dear navigator, you ought to rest more." Laughable. He was the very reason you couldn't catch a wink of sleep, barely managing to survive the day aboard the Colossus.
But such are creatures of the night. They covet the light. They seek the light.
Once they find that light, they'll devour it. And once he found you, he knew you'd be his.
