Author's note: I thought I was done with new projects... already have too many unfinished stories glaring at me. If life should allow I will eventually get around to them. I'm a huge Xiaojin shipper since like forever. I've had the opportunity of reading some really great stories about them but alas the desire to contribute to this fandom would not let me rest.

I wrote this piece a while back, thought I wouldn't post it but after re-reading it I decided maybe I should. It's stated as being complete simply because I don't want to feel the pressure to update it constantly.

This is somewhat AU, deviating a bit from cannon and altered to suit my idea.

Warnings: I needed a reason to write a smutty dark Xiaojin so I did. There is a plot but honestly it's again a justification for smut. I guess it's dubious consent but seriously this is fanfiction, dub-con is just another word for love/hate sex as far as I'm concerned.

Disclaimer: Don't own Tekken neither the amazing song by Polica, Amongster, which was on repeat during my first draft for this.

Amongst the trees amongst my freedom

My hands are red, I have been bleeding

What will happen, what will happen

When I seduce you teacher

Yes to greyhound rides, no to you by my side

I don't need you, I don't need anyone

Come back

Come back

Xiaoyu's heart thudded loudly like a drum inside her chest. Every breath burnt like hot ash and her legs strained as she ran up the flight of stairs. It didn't even occur to her until she was almost at her destination that no soldier had tried to stop her. In fact it seemed as if the entire building was deserted. The tiles shimmering like a lake under the sunlight. It was too quiet, too clean – he was expecting her.

Please be okay. She mentally hoped. It was that tiny hope that he was still alive that had kept her heavy limps moving, the guilt that somehow it was all her fault that made it impossible to stop. Stupid Girl! Her mind seemed to mock. Why didn't she ever learn?

All too soon the imposing doors with the huge insignia were before her and somewhere in the distance Xiaoyu could've sworn she heard an angel screeching in the night, before it hurled itself from the sky to the waiting ground.

The doors opened before she even touched them, confirming the fact that he had indeed been waiting for her. The room was dark and the air weighed down by the hate infusing the man's soul.

"Where is he?" she asked the figure that almost melded with the darkness but not quite. Even now something vaguely human set him apart from the demons. "Where is, Hworang?!" she demanded refusing to be ignored. She heaved a hand to her aching ribs a wound that still refused to heal.

He turned then, his golden eyes like that of some mystic creature piercing through her. "He might as well be dead," he said flatly, no emotion whatsoever.

Xiaoyu hated how her eyes prickled then with the promise of hot tears. But she wasn't crying because she was sad, she was crying because maybe she should have cried two years ago when everything really went to hell. When the boy she loved ripped out her heart and left her bleeding. For all the friends that have suffered simply because she loved them.

For Grandpa Jinrei whose lost is like an infected wound that refuses to heal and gushes red and yellow when touched.

"But he is not dead, he can't be, you wouldn't have!" She cried. She sounded hysterical, she sounded like the childish school girl she once was.

He exhaled and the air seemed to move. When he stepped forward so his face was no longer shrouded by darkness, the urge to step back was overwhelmingly strong but she stood her ground. Biting the inside of her mouth and tasting blood.

Even now, hardened by the devil he allowed take over he was still so achingly beautiful, his eyelashes thick and arched proudly on his forehead. Those lips that had once kissed her still looked soft and supple his dark hair shimmered as if with a life of its own. But it was all a lie. A beautiful lie but a lie nevertheless.

"Why do you deny me, Xiao?" he asked softly and she hated him for using his pet name for her, for caressing it with affectionate tones as if the past two years didn't happen. As if his crown was not tainted with blood.

"You're evil!" she hurled angrily, too upset, too tired to remember all the creative insults she'd often heard spewing out of Hworang's mouth. "And everyone hates you, I hate you!" she continued with venom, wanting, needing to inflict some pain even though it wasn't enough. Could never be enough.

Jin did not flinch instead he crossed his powerful arms over his chest. "I should kill him, your friend – the Korean hot head, after all he has been nothing but a bothersome puppy. Constantly yapping at my heels lacking the intellect to understand the gulf between our powers..." he drawled in that flat tone that was at both bored and tired.

"But he is brave, unlike you!" because she needed to restore Hworang's worth, not so much for herself but for the ghosts around them. It had not been stupidity that had prompted Hworang to challenge his oldest rival once more, it was so much more than Jin could hope to understand. It was -

But a grab at her chin interrupted her thoughts and narrowed eyes stared back at her with so much anger she feared she'd drown under it all. "I may be many things, but I am not a coward," Jin hissed, his touch bruising, meant to punish her. "Anyone else would be dead for even hinting such in my face let alone having the audacity to say it."

And she believed him.

"I will release your friend, but only on one condition." Jin continued.

"Anything," Xiaoyu was quick to say, every moment wasted counted.

He softened his grip on her chin, the anger in his eyes evaporating like vapour. "Give yourself to me and your friend walks," he said simply, but it was far from simple.

Yes they now all lived under Jin's rule but at least there were little freedoms to be had. Familiar faces in an endless and bitter winter. If she gave herself over to Jin, it would be the same as selling her soul to the devil.

"And not just your soul, Xiao I want everything... your body, mind and heart," he told her.

She didn't understand what use the devil had for a heart, but she had no energy to ask.

"And Hworang lives?" she asked him to be certain.

Something twisted in those golden eyes, was it jealously?

"He lives," Jin agreed.

"What of my other friends?" Xiaoyu asked.

He stared at her a long time before he spoke, "They will be under my protection, provided you keep your end of the deal."

Xiaoyu nodded and within a span of an hour her fate was sealed.

/

Hworang had been on the edge of dying for so long he wondered why God didn't just make up his mind already. If he even exists. He thought angrily. It wasn't so much the physical pain that continued to haunt him, no he'd endure enough broken bones, broken everything to suffer through it.

No it was all mental.

When the fight had started, he'd come out strong, stronger than ever. Years of preparing for the moment when he finally defeated that smug bastard giving him new found energy. And he'd thought he was winning, there had been a moment when he thought his last kick was the final blow.

He'd been wrong and he'd only realised it in that split second as he readied his final attack. Where his body felt heavy, Kazama had seemed completely untouched. The air had shifted and Hworang had known that his arrogance had blinded him. He never stood a chance and maybe after that first encounter between them when their fight had ended with a draw, he never had again.

Every blow Kazama delivered was precise and powerful. When his femur was shattered, he'd heard the bones crack and the blood curling scream that was forced out of his mouth. It had seemed as if Kazama would never stop, but eventually he had but not from fatigue, because even in that near death moment Hworang had seen his unfazed expression. No Kazama stopped because he had decided he was not worth killing and that somehow hurt more than his broken bones.

"Hwo?" the voice was soft and the hand that touched his heated forehead blessedly cool.

It took him several moments to make out the face over him, without her signature pigtails she somehow looked less like Xiaoyu and more like the woman he was secretly in love with.

He made to open his mouth but she hushed him with a finger on his lips. "Don't talk, everything is going to be fine, you're going to be okay," she promised.

And it was so easy to believe her, with those warm brown eyes and her voice lulling him back to sleep. Somewhere in the back of his mind something told him that he was missing something again. That something was wrong, but his tired mind pushed it back to allow him rest.

He could hear her talking and once or twice he felt what felt like raindrops fall on his face and he groggily asked, "Why is it raining, XIaoyu?"

She wiped at the wet residue on his face and replied, "It's never stopped raining, Hwo."

/

He'd tried to forget her. To drown out the sound of her sighs with loud metallic music, erase her face with countless whores. But like a curse her ghost had followed him everywhere, haunting and paralyzing him. No amount of hours spent training relentlessly could absolve him of her. It had started with love but time had morphed it into an obsession, one that threatened to consume him in a ball of fire much hotter than any depths of hell could.

So he had waited and plotted. And like a sign, the arrogant Korean had come blazing to him, bringing with him the promise of finally getting her back.

And now even as she refused to meet his heated gaze, her body responded to him, a simple caress hardening nibbles begging for his mouth. He wanted to devour her, to unleash the same desire burning his very core within her.

As she moaned, arching her back towards his touch no doubting cursing him for knowing her body so well, he stole another heated kiss. His hands wanted to touch her everywhere all at once, to burn his touch along ever curve.

"You're mine," he told her with every touch and kiss.

She'd tried to fight him, to deny the ache deep in her belly that only he can fulfil, but he'd refused to accept her denials. And now as he eased himself into her tight, wet velvety depths she scratched at his back and cursed him for what felt like the hundredth time.

But even as angry words spewed out of her mouth her body rocked with his rhythm, matching him for every thrust.

And when her eyes rolled back, their bodies coated in a sheen of sweat it was his name that came out of her mouth repeatedly – like a prayer.

He dug his fingers into her sleek hips, driving deeply as she shuddered and came undone. It was only then that he allowed himself his own release. His seed spewing like a hot tidal wave inside of her.

But it wasn't enough, so he bent his head and bit hard into her shoulder, branding her.

Xiaoyu was his.

I don't need you, I don't need anyone

Come back

Come back

Feedback as always is much appreciated though definitely not a prerequisite for the next update.