belle's bedroom

WARNING | 18+ blog, contains yandere content (sexual, violence, & sexual violence)

Hi guys!! I'm Belle (19, she/her) and I write short yandere scenarios! I write causally so I may be inactive for long periods of time, but you can always see the status of my blog in the description.

None of my works are meant to be written particularly well—not a single English class in mind when I write these, just freak on the mind (っ˃̣̣̥ -˂̣̣̥ς)

My carrd—if you want to get to know me or find my links and other works :3

Asks and personal messages on tumblr are open, feel free to hit me up!!

All asks are tagged under ꒰ঌ ໒꒱cymbeline's asks if you want to find yours ♡

Series Overview!

Characters are purposely written to be vague and unnamed so you can project anyone into the role

Each entry is a new scenario loosely connected by characterization of the Yan and the reader, but this is prone to deviation and there is no real canon

Tip! Search "Yandere --- Series" on my profile to view all posts at once; e.g. Yandere Bully Series

Your Bodyguard ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ Authority & Punishment ᰔ Strict, authoritative, and prefers physical punishment Yan ᰔ Bratty, oblivious to the world, and rebellious Reader Entries: i

Your Bully ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ Humiliation & Violence ᰔ Controlling, sadistic, and calm but violent Yan ᰔ Cautious, meek, and easily peer pressured Reader Entries: i ii iii

Your Roommate ꒰ঌ ໒꒱ Non-con & Perversion ᰔ Introverted, awkward, stoic, and perverted Yan ᰔ Extroverted, cheerful, chatty, and trusting Reader Entries: i ii

... and more to come!

Notes and Disclaimers!

Do let me know if any of my links don't work especially on the mobile app

Dedicated masterlist coming soon when I have more works :3

My use of the term “Yandere” is not the most accurate here—I am using it more as a catch-all term for the obsessive and violent themes in a lot of these works

Yan!Bodyguard has been with you since forever. 

His job was to protect you from danger from others or yourself–for years it was an easy job considering you lived isolated at the edge of town. Honestly he was more akin to a do-it-all butler you could boss around.

He doesn’t know where it went wrong. You used to be so sweet, so meek, so content in your little bubble; now you were a total bitch.

“You can’t go.” 

“Why not!”

“Do you think I don’t know what goes on in stupid parties like that?Drugs, sex, is that what you want to be? A druggie sex addict?!” Yan!Bodyguard wasn’t the type to yell.

“What the fuck? No! I’m literally going to just have fun!”

“You don’t even have friends to “have fun” with, what is the fucking point?!”

That struck a nerve–obviously–you stared at him dumbfounded, a strained sob deep in your chest, glaring at him before running up the stairs of the large mansion.

Yan!Bodyguard did feel a little bad for you, even he had a more exciting social life–hell, life in general–and he just followed you around all day.

But he knew better, rich kids gathering in someone's penthouse at the heart of downtown with an NDA signing at the door? Yeah right.

He watched you run up the stairs, kitten heels tapping with every single step. The white lacy thong in full view, not that the mini dress you wore was hiding it all that well in the first place.

Yan!Bodyguard sighed, seriously? That’s what you wore to try and convince him?

“Oh my fucking god, this stupid bitch.” Yan!Bodyguard muttered, of course as the mature one he had to apologize–even if he was right–only to find your bedroom window wide open and you nowhere to be seen.

He tried to force his way through the tight dancing–no, grinding–crowd. You would think his large and heavy stature would give him the advantage, but a crowd of sex desperate young adults was proving to be difficult. At least with his towering height, he quickly spotted you. 

On a couch, on your knees between two guys–clinging onto one of them, while the other enjoyed the view of your ass directly in front of him. This would be the sight of the party if a similar scene wasn’t happening all around you.

One thing was clear though, you were not in the right state of mind; he could spot your dilated pupils from here.

“Gimme more…” you slurred trying to inch closer to the guy who gave you these funny little–

You were immediately yanked away, thrown over the all too familiar broad shoulder of your bodyguard. You tried to push at him, incoherent sounds of protest, not that it worked.

The guys you sat with waving you bye, this must be a common sight.

“Throw it up.” amongst your babbling the word pills spilled out, so here you are.

Yan!Bodyguard had a tight, headache-inducing grip on your hair holding your head above the toilet in one of the penthouse’s bathrooms. You kneeled over it as he mounted you from behind–a consequence of your resistance–his heavy, heavy body pushing you closer to the bowl.

But, you wouldn’t have to worry about a face full of toilet water. Your lips wrapped around the base of his rough, large fingers stuffing your mouth, they wriggled painfully in your throat forcing your neck to strain up to escape them.

He quickly removed them upon hearing you gag and heave, nothing but saliva coming out. He straightened up a bit, frustrated at your inability to vomit, giving you the leeway to come out from under him and collapse onto the tub.

“Come here.”

“No! Do you hate me or something!?” You were a little more conscious now.

“You said it yourself I have no friends! I just wanna be a normal person and have fun and fit in!” Whimpers leaked from your throat, your tell-tale sign of a crying tantrum.

…

“Fine, you wanna party and take pills and suck dick all night long?” Yan!Bodyguard unbuckled his belt, “Here, do it.”

Your hair was back in his grasp, a reflexive yelp opened your mouth and he took his opportunity–shoving his cock as far as it would go, which wasn’t far.

Your mouth resisted the rest of the intrusion, the corners straining to their limit. God it was big. Heavy too just like the rest of him, the weight of it holding your tongue in place.

The combined efforts of Yan!Bodyguard thrusting into your mouth and yanking your face closer with the death grip on your hair–every thrust shoved a little more down your throat; slowly and steadily cutting off your air supply.

You begged with him the only way you could, weakly hitting his thighs and staring up at him in the most pitiful eyes you could muster. His face turned from a subtle angry indifference to a sneer, raising his eyebrow as if asking what.

At this point he was so deep, taking up every inch in your mouth, that even your gagging was muffled–and he still wasn’t finished.

“C’mon, just a bit more, how are you going to impress all those boys when you can’t even fit everything?” The heavy push of his cock and the strain of your mouth fighting to see which would win.

Yan!Bodyguard ultimately getting his way when your nose buries into his pubic hair, a sigh of contentment escaping him. 

You start convulsing under him, choking. Choking from the lack of air, choking from the massive cock in your mouth, choking from…something coming up your throat–vomit leaked from the tiny gaps where his cock sealed your mouth.

Well, more like bile, you hadn’t eaten in hours.

Yan!Bodyguard grinded against your throat, inducing more and more vomit to drip down all over you–your chest, your dress, your thighs, and onto the floor. Not that he cared, continuing on the fuck your face as you actively vomited on his dick.

This must’ve lasted for hours, it sure felt like it. Every time you were close to unconsciousness, he would pull out just far enough for a breath of air. At some point you stopped fighting, your entire body limp as he used you. 

Finally ending in the deepest thrust of the night, Yan!Bodyguard coming straight into your stomach, straight into a particularly large wad coming up your throat. 

He pulled out, you threw up. 

...

Amongst the puddle of vomit was his cum and 3 white partially digested blobs, “Ah, there it is.”

I would say yes! He would use it anywhere so long as he had eyes and ears on you—to watch your reactions of course ♡

I imagine Yan!Roommate's reader as someone very outgoing, has goals, and a lot of friends—someone who wouldn't be vulnerable to ending up in a toxic yandere relationship.

Yan!Roommate does these awful, perverted things to you as his own form of control.

It doesn't matter if everyone else is watching because he knows.

Reference: Entry II of the Yandere Roommate Series

This was a new low, even for Yan!Roommate. 

He sat in bed, ear pressed up against the wall your bedrooms shared. Your muffled moans and cries timed perfectly with how he maneuvered the pocket pussy in hand. 

He held his own voice in careful not to alert you despite the tight fit making his eyes roll. The silicon mold visibly stretched to its limits whenever he trusted in, clearly too big for the small thing.

No, this wasn’t a humiliating act–honestly he wasn’t above listening to you masturbate usually–but tonight the circumstances were a little different…

The package sat on Yan!Roommate’s desk, clearly meant for him with no return address, no labels, no delivery company–someone literally just wrote his name on the box and set it in front of the apartment door.

Not one for surprises, he didn't hesitate to cut it open. Inside, buried under some tissue paper, was a pocket pussy, “What the fuck?” 

You couldn’t have done this, it wasn’t in your nature to be so childish? Audacious? Stupid? Well maybe stupid, but he would never tell you that. He raised it to eye level–a flesh coloured rod, nothing special. 

His rough fingers touched the silicon entrance unsure if he really wanted to–shit it wasn’t even in the product packaging…he brutishly forced his ring and index in.

Yan!Roommate immediately jolted upright, dropping the toy onto the desk. The inside felt real, incredibly real. It felt fleshy, warm, tight, and wrapped around his fingers–no sex toy just does that.

Despite the impossibility, that wasn't what surprised him; it was your shriek from the room over.

He quickly shoved the pocket pussy back into the box–just in case–before walking up to your bedroom door, “Are you okay?” 

Your footsteps rapidly approached, opening it enough for your head to peak out, “Oh, yes! Sorry about that, uhm–I–I was just watching something scary…” 

You stuttered through your words, nervously laughing it off at the end.

Yan!Roommate could tell you made that one up on the spot–even before you said anything. Your face flushed red down to your neck and your eyes refused to make eye contact, contrasting how you usually stared into people when you talked.

He nodded slowly, pretending to believe your explanation; you flashed him a sloppy smile before slamming your door closed.

…

It's a stupid theory honestly and physically impossible, it makes Yan!Roommate cringe and scoff to even entertain the idea.

He's knuckles deep in the pocket pussy–your pussy. 

You tried, tried to hide those screams, muffling them into your pillow; not that it was working, he could hear all of it, your beds pressed up against the wall you shared in the same area.

An especially loud scream coming deep from your chest not even the pillow could hide sent the blood straight to his cock. His large, chunky rings getting caught inside you being the reason why.

It was warm, it was tight, it was wet–god, how could he not?

Without hesitation, he plunged his huge cock straight inside. You went quiet on the other side of the wall, breath caught in your chest.

There was something inside you, the sheer length and girth–it was in your throat; feeling the urge to vomit but lacking the air to even choke around nothing.

It's moving and it's vicious.

The sounds coming out of you is everything at once–a moan, a scream, choking, crying; all you could do was try to hide them from your roommate. Lest he comes in and sees you being assaulted by…nothing.

Yan!Roommate is anything but gentle. He's wanted–needed–this for so long. Sure it's not quite the first time he imagined, but does it even count?

He continues pummeling the pocket pussy, a ring of cum forming around the base of his cock. The sound of your cries stroking something sadistic and possessive inside him.

A couple more thrusts, just a few more–

The tear of the silicon didn't make a sound, and similarly you stopped as well.

“Shit.” Yan!Roommate came a second too late; the thick, abundant load leaked out the entrance and the growing fissure.

A sigh of relief came from the other side of the wall.

Yan!Roommate was a little disappointed, hoping to cum inside you, but he's satisfied…for now.

“Do you believe in ghosts?” you whispered, quick–he'd almost missed it.

“No.” You hummed in response taking in his answer; that's unusual you were very chatty in the mornings.

“Why?” he prodded; guess you were both acting out of character today.

“... no reason.”

Who even works out this late? The water gently ripples as Yan!Bully swam laps around the pool, the facility empty and devoid of people other than the two of you.

You stared at his last message: “come to the campus pool, make me dinner.”

Your foot tapped impatiently waiting for him to acknowledge you. You’ve been particularly short-tempered these days, even you noticed it, but there was just so much work to do; midterms and club events, and lab reports and your part time job and–

The swim trunks stretched tight over his large muscular thighs, sticking to him like a second skin outlining the print of his huge cock. Your eyes followed the pool water dripping down the bulges of muscle and onto the tile floor.

“Ha, perv.” You pouted, quickly moving your gaze up to meet his dull empty ones; that ever condescending grin on his face. 

He stepped up the bleachers–swim shorts tested to their capacity–taking a seat above you.

You follow his movements, spinning around on the bench to look up at him, offering the large lunch box, “Here. Can I go now?”

His thighs opened to either side of you, legs extending down on the lower bench you sat on–encompassing you. He pushed back his wet hair, huge biceps flexing as he did so. 

“Nah, open it.” You huffed, fumbling with the container making sure to not glance at the thing right in your face. You turned the box towards him, a large portion of the dinner you had made for yourself tonight. Full of flavour, meats, and oil.

“Damn, are you trying to clog my arteries, sweets?” This was not funny. 

“Fine then, don’t eat it.” You slammed the lid close, setting it on the bench in front of you.

“Wow chill out, why 're you so mad?”

“You know it’s midterms right now! I know you don’t have any, but I do! I can’t do this right now…” Your voice cracked at the end, the stress of school finally catching up to you.

…

You stood still the realization of what you’ve done suddenly coming down on you.

His foot pressed against the side of your neck, heel digging on your shoulders. You immediately shielded the back of your head at the expense of your knuckles and elbows hitting the tiled floor at full force of his kick.

The direct impact on your arms and back had you rolling onto your side, curling in on yourself–panting to catch the breath that was kicked out of you.

“ACK-!” your entire body dragged against the tile towards the edge of the pool by your hair, “I’m sorry-!”

You cut yourself short taking in a deep breath when you felt you head being forced down, inevitably into the water–sucking in as much air as your lungs could allow when you're yanked back up; a second later pushed back into the water.

“How. Dare. You. Speak. To. Me. Like. That.” Yan!Bully words came out one syllable at a time, cold and disappointed. Afterwards dropping you on the pool’s edge.

You shivered, only now registering how cold the water was, gathering all your energy to crane your neck towards him. “I’m sorry…”

“Are you really?” You nodded, your head felt incredibly heavy.

He hummed, “Then come feed me.”

He sat on the lowest bench leaned back using his arms spread to stabilize himself and his thighs waiting for you to sit in between them… and to show you.

Your eyes fell to the bulge in his shorts no longer just heavy and forcibly stuffed in there, it was hard–straining. It fought with the shorts, the fabric, the seams desperate to spring up.

You took a deep breath pushing yourself off the tiles into all fours, crawling towards him. When you were close enough he brought the lunch box down to you–your hands struggled to hold the fork properly, the bones themselves felt bruised. 

Unable to hold yourself up, you leaned against his thigh. But in order to not put too much gravitational pressure on your arms, you shifted closer, bringing your face right next to his crotch.

Yan!Bully’s hand found its way back into your wet hair. Pulling you closer, rubbing your cheek against his bulge. It burned. It burned and it throbbed and it was hard and it scared you.

A low groan came deep from his chest. You froze physically but your brain was spinning in circles, was tonight the night that he would finally cross this line? 

A strained, jagged sigh came deep from his chest. He yanked your head back, staring down at you–his light-less eyes were contemplating it.

…

You flinched as a wad of spit landed on your left eye. It dripped down your cheek, following the curve of your face trailing over your lips and down your chin. 

You raised the fork high Yan!Bully accepted it, “...It's delicious, like always.”

Your Yan!Roommate was… interesting, or maybe not, depends on who you ask. 

He was tall, incredibly so. Large too, filling up every doorway he passed through. You never quite knew where he was looking, or what expression he was making; his height and slightly overgrown fringe made it hard to see the entirety of his face.

While he physically demanded attention, his personality and demeanor was the exact opposite. 

He tried–keyword, tried–to pull those broad shoulders in, trying to tighten his personal space; walked with his head down in public to make himself smaller–not that it worked. Never talks just to converse, mainly communicates in low, deep, grunts and hums with the occasional sentence.

But you were determined to see this through–for selfish reasons admittedly–he pays eighty percent of the rent, all the bills and amenities, and keeps the place clean, barely leaving due to his remote job. 

If he wasn’t so physically imposing, he’s just an introverted guy, you could absolutely wear him down over time!

Yan!Roommate bit on his bottom lip, hard. He had no choice but to stay quiet,  if he could hear your humming from the kitchen, then surely the opposite must be true. 

The coffee maker had long finished brewing, the buzzing sound no longer able to act as an extra shield for his low groans. He had to finish, you would come out soon with the promise of caffeine.

He tugged hard on his cock focusing on the blunt, round, throbbing tip desperately chasing his release by abusing it. He hoped to make up for the lack of movement; trying to limit the squelching sound of his pre-cum dripping along his length acting as lube.

His shaky breaths he actively cut short, was more akin to panting than anything. He was trying so hard, but he needed more stimulation along his burning, rock hard length. 

Targeting only the tip when the rest of his fittingly monstrous cock was right there? So unfair. 

Soft hands, or better yet, a warm mouth to cool off into, that’s what he deserved.

In his concentration he almost missed the sound of shower turning off, “Fuck…”

His heart thumbed, the idea of being caught forced him into fight or flight. But a deeper, awful part of his brain knew this is what his cock needed.

You were surely out of the shower by now, he knew your routine, studied your routine. You rush to dry off, frantic to get into your warm robe–but he could buy a minute or two–you love to take your time applying lotion to your entire body…

“Mh-!” The sheer thought of hands roaming your body giving him that final edge.

Cum gushed out of the tip, thick and viscous, landing into a pink speckled coffee mug. 

“Is coffee done yet?” you turned the corner, adjusting your bath robe. A familiar deep, short hum answering your question.

“Great!” you headed for the cupboards, quickly wanting to warm yourself from the inside as well–the chill morning air entering through the open balcony.

“Oh, I made you a cup,” he pushed a pink speckled mug towards you, “two creams, two sugars.”

You grinned, heart warmed at the considerate action, “Aww, you remembered!”

This was your first time living with a roommate and furthermore, a man like Yan!Roommate. 

You had upped your happy-go-lucky, cheery demeanor these past few weeks, attempting to shortcut camaraderie, and honestly you were beginning to lose hope–you couldn’t help but let out a small squeal after a big gulp.

The sweetness and creaminess was just to your liking, sliding down your throat in one continuous motion. Huh, maybe you’re imagining it, but it feels a little thicker, taking up more space in your throat than you expected…was that salt? 

You lick your lips. Well whatever it was, “Wow! I dunno why but it tastes better than usual–”

You look up, “Oh! Are you okay? Omg, your lip is so bruised.”

Yan!Roommate licked the spot he had bitten, he was so focused on your reaction he didn’t notice it began swelling, “Wait, let me get you some ice for that.”

Perfect timing, he could finally adjust his sweats to mask the growing bulge.

The morning was especially cold today, the breeze flew past you causing you to freeze in place. Your eyebrows furrowed, a big frown on your face remembering why you were in this predicament.

Yan!Bully video called you earlier, something about not trusting you to dress cute enough to be seen with him in public. 

Your face heated red from embarrassment the entire time as he watched you intently through the screen. Forcing you to change into different low cut tops and progressively shorter skirts in front of him.

Unbeknownst to you he was palming at his bulge just off camera. “Mhmm, that's the one.” Even through the screen you squirmed under his predatory eyes. 

“You can't be serious.” Your relentless tugging at the skirt only got it just over your ass.

“I am sweets,” He had you pull the neckline of the tank top so low it really only covered up your bra. 

“And in fact, roll it up.” You pouted but did it anyway. Folding the waistband down on itself, making the already low rise cut even lower. But at least– 

“Ah, you know that's not what I meant.” Your face burned you couldn't even make eye contact long enough for him to see you glaring. You pulled it up back where the waist originally sat, fully exposing the bottom of your ass.

“Spin.” you did.

He chuckled, without even looking up you knew he had that awful grin. “Perfect. I'll see you in a bit.” 

Yan!Bully ended the call dropping his phone to look down his muscular frame and straight down to his impressively large, straining bulge–he'd have to take care of that in the shower.

At least there weren't many people on campus this early; you speed walk through the quiet library floor into the isolated corner you often met.

“There she is.” He wrapped his large arms around your waist, grabby hands wandering onto your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You let him pull you down onto his lap, his body immediately surrounding yours. 

Arms snaked under yours, one crossing over your chest and palm resting heavy at the base of your neck; the other wrapped around your waist, hand petting the inside your upper thigh–“C’mon, it's due tonight.”

When Yan!Bully wasn’t getting off to your humiliation–publicly, or privately–he was physically possessive; keeping you trapped under or between his heavy weight.

Not even half an hour passed when you’re flung mid-air, shoved off his lap onto the table. You reflexively brace yourself against it, careful not to fall onto your laptop. Bent over the table, kneeling on the chair, with him in between your thighs; this was a new position.

The sliver of fabric for a skirt bunched up around your waist, your entire bottom half in full view to anyone behind you. You yelp and fall onto the table as the sharp, reverberating slap hits your ass.

And another. And another. And another. And one more, in quick succession but just as hard as the first time .

He pressed into it in a massaging motion, although, too hard to be anything other than a bruising pain to you. “Aww, it's even more red than your face.” he cooed. 

Your eyes glazed over, trembling in place. Spanking, clearly he was mad at you.

His lips pressed deep against the side of your left ass, a layer of saliva left behind with a mhwaa~ 

Teeth immediately took the place of his lips, your back arched tight as he pulled your face towards him by a palm over your mouth–you screamed into it, teeth breaking skin. His tongue circled around the bite, liking the small pools of blood coming out at each tooth's indent. 

You slumped forward–face down, ass up–a layer of sweat surrounded you, “I-I didn’t even do anything wrong…” you mumbled out through pouted lips, teary eyes and furrowed brows looking at him over your shoulder.

A weight on your lower back forced your back to arch deeper, your knees at full extension supporting your own weight couldn’t also accommodate him resting his face and arms onto you. His condensing grin was mocking you, “Walking around with your ass out isn’t “doing anything wrong?””

“You’re so–! Mmhm!” you bit down on your bottom lip repressing the scream, the moan, in your throat.

Your panties wedged themselves into your folds, into your ass causing them to spill out on either side–a hard, upwards tug straining and grinding on every part in between. 

He laughed.

He gasped.

Yan!Bully instantly turned towards the sound. A random male student, red in the face as blood gushed to his head, down his neck, and…his eyes darkened.

“Sorry!” The student ripped his eyes from the site and promptly disappeared down the corner into the hallway of shelves.

You hid your face in your palms trying to disappear into the table. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you back into his lap and pinching your cheek, “Aww are you embarrassed?” he teased.

You didn’t say anything, opting to open your laptop and ignore him.

Bloodied face dragged down the brick wall, skinning the surface on it. Yan!Bully stood above him, watching, as he slumped onto the ground. Unconscious? For sure. Dead? Maybe. That’ll teach him for looking at you.

Possessive Yan!Bully who meets you during orientation week and decides that you’re the one. Miles away from home, friends, or anyone that would stand up for you. You’re desperate to please, to fit in, to not be alone–and he could taste it.

He was quick to approach–so deceivingly nice as you would soon learn–introducing you to his friends who smiled and waved and got your social media. Taking a second to follow them back you failed to notice the glances they shared, like they knew something you didn’t.

The switch was instant.

You were stiff, dumbfounded, as what was your lunch dripped from your hair onto your shoulders. The empty container hovering above you as he shook out the remnants. You could only move your eyes to look up at him, catching a glimpse of his friends sitting around the outdoor table watching unphased.

“Why?”, you managed to whisper out. 

“Why should you eat when you haven’t fed me yet?”

“You can’t just!–” a firm hand silenced you, an intense grip pushing your cheeks together.

“If you don’t want me to ruin your life, do what I say.” 

His grip tightened and dragged, forcing your mouth to open ever so slightly. His index finger intruded, sitting on your tongue, and pulling your jaw down. You flinched as something suddenly landed in your mouth, spit. 

The pressure of his hand shifted upwards, your teeth grinding against each other–“Swallow.”

And so you did. You would learn quickly what he expected, what he wanted, how he punished–the threat of something worse than this keeping you complacent.

Since then you often spent your Friday nights surrounded by warm bodies, neon lights, and booming music. Your neck in the crook between his thick forearm and hard bicep, just tight to allow small movements without choking yourself. If the height difference between you two wasn’t so drastic, it would rest on your shoulders.

He spends the nights dragging you around as you hold onto the drinks; dancing and laughing along with people you’ve met in passing–people who only acknowledged you in proximity to him. Or so you think.

They weren't purposely trying to exclude you–but between the way his arm tightened around your neck forcing you to break eye contact and the silent, soulless stare you had failed to notice when you had exchanged too many words–they knew better.

“Having fun sweets?” He leaned down, close, his nose brushing yours. You nod silently. He chuckles into that familiar grin, releasing the pressure on your neck to flick his wrist as his palm comes in contact with your lower jaw–too hard to be comforting, “Get me another drink yeah?”

“Hey…” You turned around towards the hand on your shoulder. 

“That guy who's always dragging you around, is he forcing you?” His face looked familiar, but his name is lost on you.

“Listen if he’s harassing you, you can report it–” his voice drowns out as your ears ring from rising panic.

Approaching–unbeknownst to this man–was Yan!Bully clearly angered by the sight. The heat and panic rushed to your head, eyes followed his fist colliding with the side of the mans face. Immediate silence washed over everyone in the vicinity.

Yan!Bully straddled him on the floor, repeatedly aiming for his head. The man said nothing already having lost consciousness after the first hit. Hurried footsteps rushed through the crowd and towards him, a few of his friend eventually emerged to pull him off.

Two fingers pressed hard into your throat as you gagged around them. You held onto his wrist–both hands needed to wrap around it–trying to pull them out whilst instinctively pushing yourself back into the car seat to get away. But, he overpowered you, it only succeeded in trapping you further into a laying position.

He kneeled between your thighs, cold eyes staring you down. He was upset, disappointed, you knew when he didn’t even glance down at your panties in full view in the short dress he insisted you wore.

“God, you’re such a fucking whore.” You tried to shake your head, but to no avail. 

“This is what I get, being nice to some ungrateful bitch.” Harder.

“Why were you even entertaining him?” Deeper.

“You should've walked away as soon as he spoke.” Tears cloud your vision.

“Guess I’ll have to punish you, huh?” His free hand came down like a whip, heat immediately rushing to your cheek.

“Yeah,” As quick as he pulled his fingers out, he slammed his palm above your mouth, pinching your nose close with his thumb and index. The other, wrapped around your throat, and squeezed.

“...let's go home and work on that.” The black spots expanded into each other turning everything black.