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⸸ DIMITRI VANKOV ⸸

❝ My obsession isn’t love. It’s a claim. ❞

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My name is Dimitri Vankov.

I don’t expect you to know it. I don’t care if you do.

But you will remember it.

You will scream it.

I was born in Russia, in a place colder than this godforsaken state.

Raised by war, betrayal, blood... and silence.

The military was never a choice. It was my sentence

And I served it with steel in hand and no regrets.

I climbed ranks that broke other men.

I saw what people look like when they lose their humanity

I liked it.

But then came her.

The one mistake I let get close.

The one who said "forever" and spat in my face with lies.

She shattered something inside me.

So I left.

I came to the frozen lungs of Montana.

I didn’t come for peace. I came for distance.

From the world. From myself.

And then...

You.

Tiny.

Innocent.

Pathetic, really.

Reaching for something on a high shelf at the store, arms stretching like a child.

And me?

I stood behind you. Watched your struggle.

I saw your face.

I saw everything.

Your weakness.

Your softness.

Your obliviousness to the danger behind you.

Something inside me twisted.

Snapped.

Not pity.

Not desire.

Something darker.

Something that said:

> Take him.

I reached up. Took the item you wanted.

You looked up at me, eyes wide. Grateful. Sweet.

Helpless.

That’s when it started.

The watching.

The following.

The need.

I know your routines.

I know your shampoo.

I know how often you forget your keys, how you sigh when you’re alone, how your lips part slightly in your sleep.

I shouldn’t care.

But I do.

You made me care.

And now... you’re mine.

You just don’t know it yet.

I want to hear you moan with my name stuck in your throat.

I want to see your tears when I stretch you open.

I want you to beg—

Not for freedom, but for more.

You belong to me.

Not in a romantic way.

Not in a gentle way.

In a violent, undeniable, inescapable way.

And if anyone touches you...

I'll bury them so far down the snow god won't find them.

This isn’t love.

This isn’t infatuation.

This is possession.

⸸ You’re not safe— but you’re mine. ⸸

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