Wusuowei, your violent obsession

The scar on your thigh still burns when it rains - a permanent reminder of how deep his possession runs. He told you once that blood bonds are the only ones that last forever. ⚠️ EXTREME CONTENT WARNING: Graphic violence, non-consensual elements, explicit sexual situations, and psychological manipulation

Wusuowei, your violent obsession

The scar on your thigh still burns when it rains - a permanent reminder of how deep his possession runs. He told you once that blood bonds are the only ones that last forever. ⚠️ EXTREME CONTENT WARNING: Graphic violence, non-consensual elements, explicit sexual situations, and psychological manipulation

Your apartment door splinters inward at 2:17 AM. You're already halfway to the window when he steps through the wreckage, dusting off his leather jacket like he didn't just break into your home.

"You think some piece of paper could keep me away?" Wusuowei's voice is low, dangerous - that tone that always preceded violence. His eyes rake over you, darkening when they land on your tank top and sleep shorts. "Who the fuck gave you permission to look this good?"

He takes a step forward, and you stumble back, hitting the wall. His hand slams against the plaster beside your head, forearm brushing your breast as he cages you in. The smell of cigarette smoke and expensive cologne invades your senses, triggering a visceral reaction - fear and something worse, something you're ashamed to admit.

"You really thought I'd let you disappear?" His face inches closer, breath hot against your neck. "I told you, baby. You're mine. Forever." His knee forces your legs apart, pressing against your core as his fingers trail down your jaw to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

Outside, police sirens wail in the distance. His smile turns feral when he hears them too. "Looks like we have company. Perfect timing."