Me @ My Mutuals

me @ my mutuals

When I get a nice AO3 comment or Tumblr reblog I have to force myself not to say "I LOVE YOU PLEASE MARRY ME CAN WE BE BEST FRIENDS FOREVER I'M OBSESSED WITH YOU" and instead say "thanks"

wolf keum — heart bloom

summary : you’re one of the best students at ganghak and you live your life following a perfectly planned routine. but what happens when the scary, charismatic and notoriously famous delinquent, wolf keum starts gravitating around you?

genre : acquaintances to lovers, fluff, angst, oc is insecure, wolf is down baaaaad, the fic’s VERY long (oops)

It’s not your style to be late to school. You’re never behind on assignments and always get exceptionally good grades. You’re not loud in the hallways or at the cafeteria.

You exist in peaceful silence, only making yourself known when you need to. So you can’t help the eye roll and rush of anger when the classroom door is being yanked open in the middle of your presentation.

Wolf Keum barges inside the room, bag pack loosely hanging over his shoulder and a helmet in his hand. He doesn’t say a word, barely acknowledges the glare coming from your teacher and takes his seat at the back.

"Wolf, what an honor having you in today!" your teacher says sarcastically.

Why is he even here anyway? You don’t recall seeing Wolf coming to school that early in the morning, not that you pay attention to him ever for that matter. You just so happen to have attended the same institutions since preschool and you remember him being an adept for cutting classes almost your whole life.

Wolf doesn’t reply to your teacher and you gulp. What were you saying? Ah, that stupid boy interrupted you and now all your focus is gone. You’re not worried about your grade, you could stop speaking right now and still get an A. No, you’re worried because now you can feel the eyes of all your classmates on you.

Before any presentation in front of a full classroom, you feel like you’re going to die. You don’t know why you feel this way but you can’t seem to control the nerves, the way your stomach twists and your racing heartbeats.

You live your life in silence, surrounded by your small friend group and absolutely hate having to stand in front of a whole group to talk. You’re aware that most of them don’t even listen to you, too busy scrolling endlessly on their phones, but it still freaks you out.

"Y/N, please continue."

Now’s not the time to panick. You did manage to hold yourself together for ten minutes and forget the presence of the students in the room, you can do it again.

Eyes landing on your best friend, Myung, you relax when she gives you a playful wink.

But you miss the way Wolf’s attention lands on you when he hears the teacher speaking your name.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

The sun is long gone when your shift at the coffee shop finally ends. From where you are, behind the counter, you can see the wind blowing, shaking the tree branches strongly.

With a tired sigh, you put on your sweater and grab your bag, ready to go home and work for a few hours before calling it a day.

"See you tomorrow, Y/N !" your manager says with a smile.

"Bye Subin !"

You wonder how someone can be so energetic after working for over ten hours. Actually, you don’t remember ever seeing your manager yawning or complaining at work. Is this what it’s like to be passionate about something?

No, Subin must’ve had some bad days. You probably just weren’t there to witness it. Still, you ponder over the possibility of loving something so much that your life feels like a peaceful adventure.

The more you think about it, the more you realize your own life feels peaceful. You follow the same routine every day —not planned by the minute but almost.

But something inside of you yearns for more. Everything feels bland and monotonous.

Your heart drops in your chest when you spot a large group of men leaning against a wall on your left. It’s the same thing every time you go home after a closing shift. You follow the same route and always pray that the street you take will be filled with other people so you can walk unseen.

Before you can walk past them, a figure pops in front of you, forcing you to halt your steps.

"Hey there."

You’re screwed, you know it. The man standing in front of you is tall and scars cover his bulky arms. You can spot a few tattoos on his fingers and one on his neck, he has to be part of a group of delinquents.

Myung is obsessed with some sort of ranking, you don’t remember the name of it, but you know Wolf is in it.

However you’ve never seen the boy in front of you so you know he doesn’t go to your school. If he isn’t some dropout, of course. Not that you would judge someone for dropping out, you just don’t see the appeal in fighting and spreading fear all over the city.

"Where are you going this late?"

Wait, is he seriously trying to have a conversation? Most of the time, the men whistle, say hello and go back to their business.

Whatever, you can just pretend you didn’t hear him and walk past him. What else can you do anyway?

You step aside and start walking but the man is quick to catch up and stands in front of you, again. Your heart is racing faster than ever at this point.

"Which school do you go to?" he asks with an awkward smile.

You frown at the contrast between his stance and his looks. He looks genuinely flustered, scratching the back of his head with a tiny smile on his face.

Nonetheless, you’re not interested and don’t plan on having a chat with him.

"Please, stop bothering me."

Your voice came out softly, almost pleading and you mentally curse for appearing so weak. You would give anything to be assertive and threatening when necessary.

Voices echoing from a nearby street and coming closer cause you to look over your shoulder.

"Yeah, no, it doesn’t matter how we get the files, I need them by the end of the week."

Wolf and Hwangmo walk towards you, both of them holding a beer can as Wolf lights a cigarette. Your presence in this street, so late at night, seems to spark their interest as they stop walking and eye you suspiciously.

Wolf’s attention lands on the man blocking your way before he looks back at you. Why are you here? He’s seen you walking this way a few times in the past, he knows you work in a coffee shop but you never stay in this area.

"I go to Yoosun."

Okay, now this man doesn’t know when to drop the ball apparently. Weren’t you clear enough earlier when you asked him to leave you alone? Maybe your voice was weak but your word choices were not.

That is when knowing how to fight could be a good asset because this man deserves a good beating for disturbing your schedule and messing up with your heart rate. Except, you don’t know how to fight. What a shocker.

"Y/N."

The way Wolf called out your name sends chills down your spine and your entire body shudders when you look back at the most feared delinquent from your school.

He is blowing some smoke, carelessly giving his beer can to Hwangmo as his eyes are locked on you, "Is he bothering you?"

That is when the man realizes who is standing a few feet away from him. Suddenly, his face turns white and his eyes drop to the floor, "Uh, no, n—no."

Really? All it takes for a man to leave you alone is for another man to show up? You know Wolf is feared amongst the crowd, it isn’t that surprising considering the way he ruthlessly fights, but what would’ve happened if Wolf and Hwangmo didn’t show up?

The man steps aside in a second and this becomes your last straw, "Wait, is this a joke?"

The three men perk up at your voice and Wolf smirks as he watches you stepping closer to the man with a finger pointed towards him, "I told you to leave me be and you didn’t want to!" You point your finger towards Wolf, "Now he shows up and you obey like a little puppy?"

You can feel the way the heat has reached your cheeks and how your fingers tremble from the anger and rush of adrenaline. Suddenly, it hits you. You’re screaming at a man you don’t know, in the middle of the street, at night.

What are you doing? This isn’t you, doing things like this doesn’t feel right. What if this man decides to follow you and make you pay for the humiliation? You wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.

You come to your senses and drop your hand down. Fixing the strap of your bag on your shoulder, you scratch your throat, "Whatever, just leave me alone."

Before the man can even breathe, you’re walking away, heart pounding in your chest and unaware that Wolf’s eyes followed you until your figure disappeared around the corner.

And Wolf gladly beat this guy to a pulp afterwards.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

"What?!"

The shriek coming out of Myung’s lips painfully rings in your ears and you hiss, shaking your hand to shush her down.

"Oh my god, you gotta be kidding me!" Myung exclaims, gesturing for your other friend Bongcha, "Girl, come here right now!"

You love Myung, you do. But you don’t understand why she’s freaking out like this. You were expecting her to look anxious when telling her what happened to you the night before. Instead, you spot a glimmer in her eyes and she carries that expression on her face, the one she has when she reads a good book or when her crush winks at her in the hallways.

When Bongcha stops in front of you two, Myung grabs her arm and leans forward, "Y/N’s the main character now."

Bongcha seems unimpressed and you shake your head in despair.

"We can change Wolf’s name and call him knight in shining armor."

You cringe at Myung’s words, "Please, don’t. He didn’t even do anything."

Myung shoves her phone in your face, showing you a webpage. It looks like a forum and the title says « Wolf Keum VS Yoosun prick ».

"So? He got into a fight, what a surprise."

Myung sighs, "With the guy who was harassing you last night."

Bongcha jumps in, "I don’t think he needs a reason to get into a fight."

"Thank you," you say, looking back at Myung, "You have to stop thinking everything is the beginning of a rom com."

"But I can see Wolf falling for a perfect student," Myung replies. "And you’ve known each other your whole lives!"

Myung’s face falls when neither you or Bongcha react. "Oh come on, you can’t say he doesn’t look hot too! All the girls have a crush on him!"

"Go after him if you think he is so hot."

Myung grimaces, "No, he is too popular. I wouldn’t like the lifestyle of being a leader’s girlfriend, I need my man to be a more discreet delinquent."

You chuckle at that and focus back on your notebook only for Myung to crouch down in front of you, "Y/N, don’t deny Wolf’s hot. I’m not asking you to go after him."

Now, it would be a lie to say Wolf isn’t attractive. Actually, you always thought he was rather cute and maybe, maybe, you’ve had a crush on him for a few years. But your crush dwindled with each of his fights until, eventually, he just became the personification of violence and chaos.

Your eyes meet with Myung’s, "I never said he wasn’t."

Myung squeals in excitement, saying something you can’t quite hear. But you know your best friend, you just need to let her imagine things until she starts obsessing over something else.

The rest of your day goes by smoothly until something rather strange happens during your shift at the coffee shop.

You have one hour left. No, actually, fifty eight minutes until you can finally go home, do some homework and crash in your bed.

Customers are rare at such an hour, the few that come around are here for a sweet treat after a long day at work or a shot of expresso before the beginning of their night shifts. There is a hospital right around the corner and nurses and doctors are amongst the coffee shop’s most loyal regulars after 7pm.

Today’s shift was rather calm, allowing you to work on an essay that you’d been postponing for a week.

The bell taped over the door chirps, signaling a new customer. You quickly place your notebook under the front desk and tug at the hem of your apron. Inside of your brain, you pray you don’t forget the sentence you were just about to write down for your essay.

"Hello— Oh!" Your voice cracks and the smile on your face vanishes when your eyes land on the customer.

Wolf.

He is standing right there, in front of you, still wearing his school uniform as his hands are clasped over a file holder tucked under his arm.

"Hello," he says, his eyes burning holes into your skin under his glasses.

You’ve been working in this café for two years, it is the very first time you’ve seen Wolf in there. Is he even a coffee person? You’ve always assumed he was more of an alcohol person. Well, it didn’t help to stumble upon him and his group of friends walking in and out of bars and clubs during the weekends.

You realize you’ve been frozen in your spot way too long when his mouth stretches into a tiny smirk and you cough awkwardly, "Hm, what can I get for you?"

Wolf hums, looking up to check the menu hanging on the wall behind you. His eyes linger for a few seconds before finding yours again, "Whatever you’d like."

Wait, what? Is this some sort of joke? What does he mean by that? The awkwardness clinging onto your skin morphs into distress and you blink, your eyes unable to part from Wolf’s.

His eyes are very pretty, you think. You don’t recall ever seeing him so close before. Well, actually there was one time. But you push the memory away. His glasses have slipped over the bridge of his nose and a tiny part of you really wants to reach forward and fix them for him.

Your heart jumps to your throat, what the hell is wrong with you? Oh, you will make Myung pay for planting a seed into your brain and talking you into admitting Wolf is good looking.

Wolf is a delinquent, part of a gang who fights and bullies people for money or whatever they do. You want nothing to do with him.

"It doesn’t help," you reply coldly. "A coffee, a tea, matcha?"

Wolf searches for your eyes but they’re focused on the large screen perched up on the counter separating you both. That is because, in the midst of your inner turmoil, you recalled something Myung told you once.

She was blabbering about her forum where all the delinquents were ranked and you were only half listening. Not that you didn’t care but she had been yapping for an hour at this point and you were done.

But she said one thing that stuck with you :

"Wolf has a three second rule."

"What’s that?"

"If someone keeps eye contact with him for three seconds or more, he fights them."

You’re pretty sure you almost broke the rule the moment you noticed how pretty his eyes looked. Damn, why would he come into the coffee shop? It’s not like he even knows what he wants to drink.

"Just make me your favorite drink," Wolf finally speaks.

Theory confirmed, he doesn’t know what he wants. You’re tempted to tell him that the only customers who ask to have your favorite drink are those who come back after asking for your number but you keep your mouth shut. You really don’t want to upset the man standing in front of you.

You pick your favorite drink on the screen and look up, "Wanna eat something with it?"

Wolf blinks, lips parting slightly at your question. You spot his eyes lowering on your face for a split second before he looks back at your eyes, "No, thanks."

"Here or to go?"

"Here."

Here? What the hell, you really don’t picture Wolf staying inside a café with a drink he didn’t even pick himself. Maybe you’re in the middle of a weird dream?

"Okay, I’ll bring your drink in a few," you say. "Come back to pay only if you liked it."

Wolf smirks wider this time and you internally curse. He is just going to pretend he hated the drink and you’ll have to pay for it. What a great news, you being forced to pay for a drink you won’t even get to enjoy.

You’re such a shrunken mess when you start preparing your favorite drink —a dirty chai latte, that you barely pretend to like your job when a few other customers come in to buy something on the go. You should have just made Wolf pay like you would do with every other customer hitting you with the very famous and unoriginal “make me your favorite drink”.

You barely glance at Wolf when you place the fuming cup in front of him, "There."

Some papers are splattered all over the table but you avert your attention quickly, definitely not interested in whatever Wolf does in his free time.

Instead, you go back behind the counter and pull out your notebook. You have an essay to write and it is definitely more important than to watch Wolf’s reaction to the drink.

Your essay is definitely more important. Then, why do you find yourself glancing at the purple haired boy sitting near a window as he slowly raises the cup towards his lips, leaning forward to smell.

You can sense hesitation in his demeanor, the way he waits a few seconds before taking the first sip. Damn it, why is your heart beating a little faster? Who cares if he doesn’t like the drink, you’ll pay for it and call it a day. You don’t even like the guy, actually, he is everything you hate.

You notice the way he blinks, his lips barely parting as if he just needed to take a larger breath. Fuck, why are you still looking at him? Might as well just put the money in the cash holder right now so you don’t forget before the end of your shift.

Wolf takes a bigger sip and releases a long breath before closing his eyes. That is when you tear your gaze away and try your best to focus on your essay. But you have to admit you completely forgot the sentence you wanted to write before Wolf walked in.

You’re minutes away from calling it a day and going home when Wolf pops up in front of you. He slides a bill on the counter, "For the drink."

Wait, he liked it? No, wait, he liked it and actually paid for it? You know that if you did that with someone else —anyone, they would jump on the opportunity to get a free drink. Even you would be tempted.

You blink and tear your gaze away from his eyes. You can’t forget the three second rule. But you wonder, would he fight a woman? He must’ve had pretty girls staring and throwing themselves at him, right?

Pretty girls… you almost laugh at yourself for putting yourself in this category. You don’t consider yourself bad looking but you don’t really see yourself shining amongst the crowd.

Oh god, can you just stop overthinking? What is wrong with you today? What if Wolf has girls throwing themselves at him day and night? He is a bad person and your crush on him was wiped off years ago, he can do whatever he wants.

"Thank you," you simply say.

You jump up in surprise when Subin walks out of his office, "Thank you for today, Y/N! Get home safe, I’ll see you next week!"

You can only nod, the words stuck in your throat as you were so focused on your thoughts you didn’t notice your manager’s presence until the last second.

These past two days were definitely too much for your heart to handle. You wonder if you forced these little unexpected things to happen when you thought about how bland your life could be sometimes.

Home. You have to get home. You have to stop thinking about Wolf, about Myung’s words, about everything that happened recently. There is no time for that on your agenda.

But you walk out of the coffee shop to see Wolf leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging between his lips. What is he waiting for?

Whatever, this is none of your business.

Except Wolf starts walking a few feet behind you. Your heart is racing and your mind is running wild. Shit, maybe you broke the three second rule and he is waiting for the perfect opportunity to throw you in a dark alley and beat the hell out of you.

Should you just run? No, you already know he is faster than you. Definitely because you aren’t very athletic. Maybe you should call Myung? Yeah, to tell her what? That Wolf came to your workplace, asked for your favorite drink and actually paid for it even though he was offered the opportunity to get it for free on a silver plater? Definitely not. You can already hear her yelling at you to turn around and ask him “what are we”.

You love your best friend but her obsession with romance can really blur her thinking abilities.

Before you know it, you reached the place where the Yoosun kid bothered you last night. And the said person is actually there, leaning against a wall with a very bruised face. You open your eyes wide at his injuries, did Wolf really beat him that hard?

Because last time you checked, Wolf had his usual bandages on his face but his skin remained perfectly untouched.

Another boy is standing next to the injured boy. Now, you’ve seen him before. He doesn’t go to your school but you’re sure Myung showed you a picture of him because he is definitely her type.

"Wolf," the boy states as he gets off of the wall.

"Jimmy."

Jimmy? Yeah, you definitely heard that name before. Oh damn, Myung is going to kill you if she finds out you were in the middle of another fight between two delinquents.

"You beat one of my boys."

Okay, so Jimmy goes to Yoosun. Maybe it’s time for you to pay more attention to the things Myung talks about.

You hear a snicker coming out of Wolf’s throat, "He didn’t tell you what he did last night?" He stops for a few seconds, "What? Are you gonna stay quiet, you little shit?"

Wolf definitely didn’t fight this guy because he was harassing you last night. Something else must’ve happened after you left.

The words coming out of Wolf’s mouth make you stop dead in your tracks, "Harassing her."

You shouldn’t turn around. It’s best for you to ignore what you just heard. Wolf used that as an excuse when you know he just wanted to get into a fight. This has absolutely nothing to do with you.

"Wait, is she your girlfriend?" Jimmy asks with curiosity.

"Yeah."

Now, you’re forced to spin on your heels to face the boy who just called you his girlfriend. Wolf’s eyes are already set on you, boring into yours as if to assess your reaction. But you’re just frozen on the ground, unable to process what just happened.

Fuck the three second rule, your eyes are locked on each other for much longer and he can come find you afterwards to fight you, you’ll find a way to hit him harder than any of his other opponents. What the hell is wrong with him?

The last interaction you’ve had with Wolf must’ve happened last year when he accidentally knocked you over when he was too busy chasing someone down the school halls. He did send you an apologetic look that day and it had been enough for you to move on with your day.

Today, even an apology wouldn’t be enough.

Jimmy grunts and lightly slaps the injured boy next to him, "Dude, not the girlfriends, you fucking idiot!"

Not the girlfriends? So, it’s okay to harass single women? You want to throw up at this point, men are such a lost cause.

"Apologize and we’re even," Wolf orders.

This is definitely a dream. You’re going to wake up in a few seconds and blame your brain for coming up with such an awful scenario, like seriously, couldn’t you just have a regular dream?

But the bruised boy sheepishly comes forward, stopping in front of you with his hands tied behind his back and his head dropped in shame, "I’m sorry."

You can’t help the grimace on your face, missing the way Wolf gloats watching the scene.

But what happens next is even worse. Wolf takes a few steps forward, closing the gap between you both and fixes the strap of your bag on your shoulder, "I have some stuff to deal with Jimmy, I’ll see you tomorrow."

Is your heart beating so fast you can feel it pulsing all over your body? Is this the beginning of a cardiac arrest? Because you find it hard to breathe, to think, to move. Why aren’t you repulsed by Wolf’s presence right next to you? Why did his fingers grazing over your shoulder feel so… warm?

No, you can’t let your imagination take over. You won’t let your brain fall into the realm of potential attraction and romantic possibilities. Wolf is a bad person, only using you as an excuse to explain his cruel ways.

If you recall correctly, Wolf is part of the largest gang in the city. And you’re pretty sure Yoosun students are a part of it as well. He only used you as an excuse to stay on good terms with Jimmy. For all you know, Jimmy is Yoosun’s top delinquent.

You’ll have to ask Myung tomorrow.

But Wolf’s eyes are still on you and, suddenly, you feel infinitely small. The heat that reached your body is burning your skin and tightening your throat.

You barely take a step back, nodding before you’re turning around and walking away with white dots covering your eyes.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

You didn’t find it within yourself to tell Myung what happened with Wolf. It was almost two weeks ago and, ever since, Wolf came in the coffee shop three more times.

Always one hour before the end of your shift, always ordering a dirty chai latte, always drinking it sitting at the same table, always waiting outside with a cigarette between his lips, always walking a few feet behind you until you would reach this one street —the one where you were bothered by the Yoosun kid, only then he would stop following you.

Tonight is no exception.

Wolf is right there, smoking a cigarette as you get out of the coffee shop and start your walk home.

You really want to tell him that he is acting like a creep, no, an actual psychopath. You don’t understand how his brain works to make it seem acceptable to follow someone around without ever opening his mouth.

He only speaks to you when he orders his drink, what’s the point of sticking around afterwards? It’s not like men bother you at every corner, you don’t need protection. Even though, you know Wolf doesn’t care about that.

You’re about to reach the street where he usually stops following you when you finally turn around, forcing Wolf to stop walking. His eyebrows raise in surprise and you cross your arms over your chest, "What’s wrong with you? Uh?"

A silence lingers between you both, broken by honks and the laughter of people passing by.

"Why’re you following me around?" you ask strongly.

Wolf shrugs, "I’m not. We just have the same route."

"Lies," you spit. "What do you want?"

The amused smile on Wolf’s features grows as he watches you fuming in annoyance. He thinks the frown on your face is pretty adorable, just like he likes the way you rapidly stomp your left foot on the ground.

But he is the one frowning now when he notices you never look at his eyes for longer than a couple of seconds, "Do I scare you?"

You grimace, responding too quickly for your own liking, "No!"

"Then, why do you look everywhere but in my direction?" Wolf asks, genuinely curious. "Mmh, or maybe I’m not good looking enough for you."

What is wrong with this guy? You never asked to have him following you around like a stalker. You can’t seem to understand what brings him into your workplace when he skips classes almost every day. Wouldn’t it be more interesting for him to go to the bar with his friends?

Wolf doesn’t know why he started counting. The way your eyes bore into his does something to him he isn’t familiar with. One, but he wants more. Two, it’s not like you’re unpleasant to look at. Quite the opposite, actually.

Before he can count to three, your eyes leave his face. And the realization hits him like a truck. A light chuckle escapes his lips, "The three seconds don’t apply to you."

You huff in annoyance, glaring at him once more, "Oh yeah? And why’s that? Because the fight would be too boring?"

You don’t even know why you just said that. What did he mean? Is he messing with you? Well, yes, of course, you can’t think of any logical reason to explain his behavior towards you.

"You’re too pretty to fight with."

Your heart clenches in your chest and your stomach twists so hard you wonder if you’re not just about to be sick. No, you shouldn’t let his words win you over, he is definitely messing with you. There is absolutely no way Wolf thinks you’re… pretty.

Fuck, why did such a delinquent have to look so pretty that you can feel your heart drumming in your ears and a blush warming your cheeks. No, no, no, just turn around and go home. He can look as handsome as humanly possible, he is still dangerous.

"Nice one, I wonder how many girls fell for it," you seethe.

Next thing you know, you’re walking away without looking back.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

"Please, Y/N! Please, please, please," Myung whines. "I am begging you! Just this once, I swear!"

Myung is quite literally begging you, on her knees with her hands clasped together abover her head. Apparently, she befriended a girl from Yoosun during her ceramics class and now she wants you and Bongcha to go to this party.

And you were right about Jimmy being Myung’s type because you perfectly recall the stars in her eyes when she mentioned he would be there. She shrugged it off like it was just a detail but she can’t fool you.

"Why do you need me there?" you grunt. "Bongcha said she’d go."

"I don’t need you, I want you to come," Myung corrects. "You need to let loose, you’re always studying or working."

It’s not that you hate parties, they’re okay. Sometimes. You just feel uncomfortable going to a party where you don’t know anyone. Well, besides your friends. And a part of you fears you’d stumble into Jimmy and that he would recognize you. What if he says something? Myung would definitely kill you.

"Please…"

You sigh, knowing Myung isn’t actually giving you a chance to refuse. You have to come clean and tell her everything. You don’t even know how you kept all of this to yourself for so long.

"Okay—" you barely said the word that Myung is jumping up and down with a loud shriek. You grab her arm, "Stop, stop. Please sit down and listen to me."

Myung complies, sitting on the edge of your bed with the biggest smile you’ve ever seen. You give her two minutes before her smile disappears and turns into a glare with what you’re about to tell her.

"Okay so I have some things to tell you," you start. "Please, don’t interrupt me and… don’t kill me."

When you live your house to go to the party, Myung is still yapping about what you told her. Luckily for you, she didn’t get mad. You think it’s because you provided her with the most unexpected rom com scenario but you’re not so sure about it.

"He is so into you!" Myung squeals, "This is even better than in the movies!"

"No, he is not, he’s just messing with me because he thinks it’s funny."

Myung and Bongcha share a knowing look, "You’re definitely not people smart, Y/N."

"Wait, do you really think someone like Wolf would be into me? You sound ridiculous."

"Actually, I have to agree with Myung right now," Bongcha joins in. "Just take a second to think about it. First, he gets into a fight with the Yoosun guy after he caught him messing with you."

"You agreed with me when we said he didn’t need any excuse to get into fights!" you fume.

Bongcha nods, "Yeah, but that was before he started coming into the coffee shop and calling you his girlfriend!"

Bongcha has a point but you don’t recall Wolf ever being into a relationship before. Well, you assume it’s happened because of all the girls who have a crush on him. But you don’t see why he would be into you. You out of all people.

You’re… normal. Definitely above average when it comes to school but you know that’s not something boys are interested in. They want the prettiest girl. And you don’t see Wolf being into someone like you. Because he is definitely out of your league.

Myung lets out a loud shriek and Bongcha’s lips crack into a playful smile.

Shit, did you just say that out loud? What the hell is wrong with you? Okay, Wolf might be very nice to look at but this quality can’t erase all his flaws. He is bad news and you don’t need that type of energy around you.

"I knew you had a crush!" Myung cheers, joyfully jumping up and down on the curb. "I remember how you freaked out when you were paired with him on that science project, I knew it, I knew it!"

You groan, "That was years ago, can you just drop it."

"Never!" Myung retorts, "How could I ever when I know you have a crush!"

You feel like you could dig a hole in the ground and bury yourself in it. Why are you so weak that just a few interactions with Wolf were enough to throw you back in time and revive the crush you had on him years ago? Are you really that weak? That desperate for any romantic trope?

Maybe you just need to look at another guy, any guy (as long as he’s not a delinquent), and your supposedly crush on Wolf will vanish quicker than it ever reappeared.

A light slap to the back of your head brings you out of your thoughts with a bang, "Ow! What was that for?!"

Bongcha doesn’t look sorry for the hit, "For saying he’s out of your league."

"Yeah!" Myung growls. "You’re gorgeous!"

You hum half-heartedly, deciding it’s best for you to stop fighting them. They’re your best friends, of course they will cheer you up and praise you. But does it really matter when you know Wolf is only messing with you because he must find it fun for the time being?

It’s only a matter of time before Wolf grows bored of this little game and goes back to ignoring your existence altogether.

The house is packed when you walk in with Bongcha and Myung. Music is loudly blasting and you’re quite sure you can see the walls vibrating because of the volume. People are screaming, singing and dancing in every corner, you can already feel your incoming migraine.

Why did you agree to come in the first place? Oh yeah, because your best friend can’t take no for an answer.

You don’t even ask Myung the content of the plastic cup she forcefully puts in your hands. One sip and you know it’s beer. You’re not really a fan but it’s better than the spiked punch sitting in a giant bowl in the kitchen.

Minutes pass by and you’ve already hit your socializing quota. You aren’t one for partying endlessly, even less for making small talk with people you won’t ever see again.

Myung is too busy looking for a certain orange haired boy and Bongcha is nailing a beer pong game as you feel your phone buzzing in your hand.

It’s an instagram notification.

You can feel all the color draining out of your face when you open the app.

KSJ liked your post.

You know that account. Wolf’s. It’s no secret that Wolf follows you on your socials. He’s been following you for a few years now.

But you never thought much of it since it was originally to keep in touch when you were paired together for school work. News flash, you always did all the work.

Now, you don’t post often on instagram and barely pay attention to the people who like your content. Last time you posted something was three days ago, how come he only likes it now?

You don’t want to let your brain imagine it’s because he stalked your account. First, because that’s just weird. Second, because he doesn’t have a crush on you. Plain and simple.

The only logical explanation is that he didn’t use instagram for three days and only saw your last post now. Still, it feels weird that he would go and like it. But before you can go deeper in your thoughts, a loud cheer makes you look up.

Jimmy is standing a few feet away, a finger pointed at you, "Hey! That’s Wolf’s girl!"

Wolf’s girl… You never expected to be called like that in your life. But you can’t ignore the way your heart skips a beat, well, you can only admit the defeat against yourself. Maybe your crush for Wolf never really left.

Fuck, you can’t let it settle in your heart. Double fuck, people you don’t even know think you two are dating.

You force a tiny smile, "Hi."

"That fucker couldn’t even come around by himself, he had to send his girlfriend," Jimmy chortles, causing a few of his friends to laugh. "I can’t fucking believe him."

He couldn’t come around by himself? What the hell is he talking about?

Jimmy pulls out his phone, quickly typing on his screen before his eyes flicker toward you, "You know I could take your boyfriend down any day, uh?"

The confusion turns into a frown. What does that have to do with you? And why should you care? Also, does Jimmy really think it’s impressive to flaunt his fighting skills? It makes him look ridiculous.

Jimmy’s phone is on speakers and you can hear a ringtone. Is he calling Wolf? And where are Myung and Bongcha when you need them? Coming here was a bad idea, you’ll make sure to remind Myung next time she tries to drag you to a random party.

Wait, wait. Did Jimmy say he could take Wolf down? Okay, you have to confess now. Maybe, maybe, you checked Myung’s forum one night when you couldn’t sleep.

Wolf’s voice echoes through the speaker right when you remember an information that invalidates Jimmy’s certitude, "What the fuck do you want, Jimmy?"

"Last time I checked, Wolf was ranked higher in the Shuttle Patch," you say calmly before you shrug. "Well, except if the ranking changed overnight."

Jimmy’s friends gasp, some of them laughing so hard they fold in half.

Jimmy, on the other hand, sends you a death glare. Chills run down your spine but what can you say? The informations you read seemed accurate and it looks like this guy needs to be put in his place. You can’t fight him with your fists but a few facts can definitely do the job.

Jimmy’s lips tremble before he focuses his attention on his phone, "Your girl’s pissing me off. I don’t know what you’re trying to do man but you better fix your shit before I send her back to you with a broken leg."

Well, you’re screwed. Oh how fun is it to be involved with gang members. You really want to kill Myung for dragging you here but you want to kill Wolf even more for pretending you’re dating. What was he thinking? If you ever wondered if he was smart before, you definitely have your answer.

He has to be the most stupid person on this planet and you’re pretty sure he doesn’t care one bit that Jimmy wants to see you get out of this house with a crushed bone. And why did you even open your mouth? Couldn’t you just do what you always did, stay quiet? No, you had to provoke him as if you didn’t stand on an enemy’s land.

Well, technically, Yoosun and Ganghak work together but you know they aren’t exactly friends.

"Got more things to say, smart mouth?" Jimmy taunts as he puts his phone back in his pocket.

Fuck, you are so screwed. There is no way you’ll talk your way out of this. You’re facing Jimmy and all of his friends, your own friends completely out of reach. Where the hell are they?

"Oh my god, girl, I love your dress," a familiar voice cooes. "Ugh, where did you get it? I’m obsessed!"

Myung grabs your arm, eyeing you up and down as if she didn’t help you pick your outfit two hours ago. But you quickly connect the dots. She is literally saving you from the situation you’re in. Did she hear everything Jimmy just said?

Myung turns to look at the boys and bats her lashes, "Sorry boys, gotta steal her for a bit. Girl talk!"

Before Jimmy can say anything, Myung drags you down the hall and locks you both in the bathroom. She turns around with a shocked look, "What the fuck was that?"

You’re a shivering mess, "I don’t fucking know! Fuck, he said he wanted to break—"

"Your leg! I know I heard!" Myung interrupts, "What a fucking asshole!"

"I need to get out of here!"

You really don’t want a party to turn into a visit to the hospital. Oh, you’ll make Myung and Wolf pay for this so hard. But that’s not your priority right now.

Myung stops pacing and turns to look at you, "The window."

"What?"

Myung opens the bathroom window, "Get out through the window."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious," Myung says. "Get out, I’ll distract them."

Do you even have another option right now? Because walking out of the bathroom means risking another encounter with Jimmy. Still, climbing out of a house through a window? Isn’t this thing only happening in badly written movies?

Is there even a movie where characters escape a place through a window?

"Holy shit!" Myung sputters, shaking her phone in front of your face. "Wolf is here!"

It’s a text from Bongcha asking where you both are, that Wolf just showed up and is looking pissed.

Wolf is here? What is going on? The dream is lasting too long for your own liking. Who’s even in charge of the script because you need to have a little chat with them.

"Y/N!"

Myung yelps and your heart drops as soon as you recognize Wolf’s voice loudly echoing in the house. Can someone actually scream that loud?

Myung forcefully shoves you towards the door, expression torn between fear and excitement. You know she lives for the plot and you’re definitely providing her with a great show, "He’s so into you, girl! Ugh, just go!"

Your fingers slightly shake when they wrap around the doorknob. Wolf is standing in the middle of the living room, a hand latched on Jimmy’s shirt, eyes scanning the whole place. When they land on you, you feel smaller than ever before.

Wolf eyes you up and down, his gaze lingering on your bare legs a little longer than usual before he looks back at Jimmy, "Touch her and I kill you."

That’s the perfect opportunity to leave this place. So you take it. Walking past the crowd, you easily escape the house with your heart drumming in your ears and the cold wind clinging to your skin.

"Hey, Y/N!" Wolf yells as he runs out of the house right after you.

He actually showed up after Jimmy threatened you. Why? Do you really want to know?

"No thank you?" Wolf laughs.

You turn around with a glare, "No, I’m not thanking you! You created this, it’s your fault."

"Oh yeah? But I’m not the one who decided to go to a Yoosun party, am I?"

You want to rip that smirk off his face, take his glasses off and break them in half. You’d even dare kicking him between the legs.

"Should I remind you you’re the one who said we were dating?" you spit back. "It’s not funny messing with people like that! Maybe you’re bored with your life but find someone else to do that with, okay?"

Wolf’s smile vanishes, "I don’t plan on finding someone else."

"Why?!" you grunt annoyingly, "Any girl would gladly pretend to be your girlfriend. Seriously, Wolf."

"But I’m into you."

You feel like you’ve been hit by a truck. Wolf just said this so casually, as if he was talking about the weather. His gaze is unwavering, stuck on your face and he barely blinks.

He huffs at your lack of reaction, "Come on now, don’t act so shocked. It’s pretty old news."

"Old news?" you repeat with a grimace. "You’re unbelievable, what the fuck’s wrong with you."

Wolf shrugs, "You can ask around, I’ve liked you for a while. Whatever, you can reject me, it won’t change a thing."

Wolf likes you. Is this real life? Absolutely not. You don’t even understand why Wolf would like you out of all people. You were never even friends? How can you like someone you don’t even know?

"This isn’t funny, Wolf," you mutter.

"Oat milk latte is your second favorite drink, you like french poetry and did competitive fencing up until last year," Wolf spills out. "I know because I attended one of your competitions and you beat one of my old friends. We were still kids at the time."

What the actual hell? How can he know all of that?

"You should get back into it, you were really good," Wolf points out. "You want to open an animal shelter when you’re older and become a therapist."

Holy shit, what is happening? There is actually no way Wolf just made this up and was right on absolutely everything. How could he have found out all of this about you anyways? It’s not like you spill your life on social media, rather the opposite.

"What the fuck?" you blurt.

"Believe me now?" Wolf asks calmly as he walks towards his bike. He lights a cigarette, throwing you a look. "Need a ride home, I guess?"

You can’t process what’s happening. Wolf likes you. Wolf has liked you for a long time. How long? Were there signs? Are you actually dreaming?

If this is a dream, you don’t know if you want to wake up yet. Because going back to your regular, bland life will be painful. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to the butterflies in your stomach and your heart racing in your chest.

Wolf chuckles, stretching his arm to give you a helmet, "You’re cute."

You don’t even think before putting the helmet on your head and sitting behind Wolf on his bike.

Little do you know Wolf’s heart is racing incredibly fast when you place your hands on his waist, he can’t fucking believe he just confessed after picking you up at a Yoosun party. It definitely wasn’t part of his original plan to win you over.

When Wolf drops you off in front of your apartment complex, the migraine that was threatening to settle in your skull because of the party vanished to be replaced by a plethora of questions.

Wolf slides forward on his seat, allowing you to get off the bike. He can’t ignore the way his heart skips a beat when he notices your flushed cheeks and disheveled hair when you give him his helmet.

"For how long?" you ask without thinking.

He cocks his head to the side in confusion, "What?"

You cough awkwardly, "For how long did you… like me?"

Wolf smiles, letting out a tiny laugh. You’ve never heard him laugh like this before. It sounds too nice in your ears.

"That’s a question for another time," Wolf replies as he puts the helmet on his head. "Good night, Y/N."

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

Something weird is going on inside the halls of Ganghak. You literally just set one foot inside the school that everybody stopped what they were doing to look at you.

Whispers echo and travel around you, sizzling in your ears. Girls stare at you with daggers in their eyes and the boys look away in shame whenever you make eye contact with them.

Your phones buzzes in your hand. It’s a text from Myung.

myung 👑

girlllll everybody knows what happened this weekend at the party!!!!

they all think you and wolf are dating 🥹😍🧎🏻‍♀️

also wolf dropped something on your desk im fucking SCREAMING

WHERE TF ARE U ITS GONNA GET COLD

It’s going to get cold? What is she talking about? You ignore the insisting stares as you walk further into the school, now understanding better why you suddenly seem to have become the school’s main character.

But, once again, the whole classroom turns around when you walk inside the room.

You have to contain an eye roll when you spot Myung’s ecstatic expression plastered on her face as she points a finger at your desk.

There is a cup on your desk with Wolf’s name scribbled on it. You don’t need more clues to figure out he must have stopped by a coffee shop and ordered you a coffee. Your heart can’t take it anymore. You’re not made to handle so many things happening, especially when they aren’t part of your usual routine.

Everything feels confusing as you sit down, removing the lid of the cup to take a look at the beverage. The smell hits you instantly. A dirty chai latte.

You wonder if your heartbeats will ever slow down at some point or if you’ll be stuck in this half-panicked, half-overwhelmed state for the rest of your life. Were you feeling all of these emotions the last time you crushed on someone?

Wait, who was your last real crush? Oh yeah, a transfer student who ended up being a total dickhead.

But you know by the way your heart races and your stomach twists that this crush on Wolf feels stronger. You know you’re screwed. He didn’t even need to try so hard for you to fall right back in the trap.

And you know he is bad news. He constantly skips school (but always manages to get good grades), ruthlessly fights with whoever dares to provoke him and takes part in illegal activities.

But all it takes is for him to confess he likes you and buys you your favorite drink and now you’re head over heels for him? Honestly, you’re cringing at yourself. It’s like, in the blink of an eye, you became the very unlikeable main character of a romantic movie who’s so blinded by her own feelings she ignores all the red flags.

Also, another part of you still has a hard time believing everything that’s happening. You’re aware this isn’t a dream, you’ve made peace that your life just took a strange turn in just a few days. But is Wolf really serious? Sometimes, you wonder if he’ll just look at you one day and laugh until his sides hurt, tears start spilling from his eyes before confessing all of this was just a prank.

Still, with everything he told you last time, you feel like he wouldn’t put so much effort into a prank. But is Wolf capable of loving someone else? He seems so full of… anger and pain. And do you want to let someone like him into your life? Is it really worth it?

All your questions melt into a puddle when you spot Wolf on his bike when you make it to the coffee shop after school.

He isn’t wearing the school uniform, instead a pair of loose black slacks and a black tee shirt. The outfit is simple but it looks way too good on him.

"Hi," you breathe out, readjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder.

"Hi," he replies. "I’m taking you out for a bite after your shift. I’ll pick you up."

As in a date? Tonight? You’re about to burst on the curb, your heart can’t keep up with everything that’s happening.

"Uh… yeah, okay."

If anyone else would have offered you a date on the spot on a school night, you would’ve said no in a heartbeat. Wolf didn’t offer, more so imposed it and you agreed in the blink of an eye. Did he cast a spell for you to be so weak?

Wolf flashes you a quick smile and turns on the engine on his bike, "Okay, wait for me here!"

You are so starstruck you barely remember your shift. You just know Myung and Bongcha want a detailed story time once you’re home and that Subin asked if the purple haired boy was your boyfriend.

The idea of dating Wolf still seems very strange to you. You can’t deny the crush you have but you know nothing about him.

All you know is that he loves to skip school, loves to fight (and is apparently very good at it) and is part of a gang called the Union. But everybody knows that.

What can you even ask him? You feel like the real things you’re interested in are going to be touchy subjects. What if he storms off or loses control? What if you have nothing to talk about and the silence is awkward?

When you walk out of the coffee shop, you’re a nervous mess with a racing heart and sweaty palms. Wolf had asked you to wait for him but he is already there, smoking a cigarette that he throws on the ground the moment his eyes land on you. He wipes his hands on his thighs and quickly grabs his helmet, handing it to you.

"I hope your shift wasn’t too boring without me around," he says playfully.

You raise an eyebrow, "Don’t get too cocky, Wolf."

"I know you like having me there."

"All you do is sit down and drink in silence," you retort as you put on the helmet. "For all I know you come over just to force me to make a drink I can’t have when you know it’s my favorite."

Wolf’s grin gets bigger on his face, "Wasn’t the one I brought you this morning good enough for you?"

Touché. It was a really good drink, even more so because it was unexpected and… free of charge. You have the habit of making yourself a drink during your shifts but knowing someone else paid it for you gave it an even better taste.

And your heart tingles at the simple thought of Wolf going into a coffee shop to buy you your favorite drink and dropping it by your desk before leaving the school altogether.

No, you have to stay focused. You glare at the boy sitting on the bike, "You’re not winning me over with free drinks."

"Wait, Y/N, please remind me," Wolf pretends to think, scratching his head. "Who agreed to go on a date with me?"

He knows what he’s doing. Oh, he knows. Because your heart speeds (yes, again) and you can feel your cheeks warming up.

You slap his arm, making him chuckle, and you step back, "I could go home right now."

Wolf reacts quickly, leaning forward to grab a hold of your wrist. His hand feels soft on your skin, "No, no."

But you know you aren’t going home. Your heart is skipping beat after beat with the way you can bicker together so playfully when, a month ago, you would make it your mission to ignore his presence at school.

Does it mean Wolf’s attention was on you all this time and you never once noticed?

The restaurant he picked is on the fancier end. Not extra fancy but it’s not a place you would consider if you wanted to go out for a bite with your friends. Or maybe to celebrate a birthday.

You look up at Wolf with wide eyes after checking the prices on the menu, "Wait, but you’re like rich rich!"

Wolf notices the slight embarrassment on your face and, even if he knew you were a perfect match for him a long time ago (he just needs you to realize it), it makes him like you even more.

Wolf isn’t a fan of dating. He dabbled into it a little bit and was always, always, turned off by the girls who easily assumed he would pay for the fanciest dates. He doesn’t mind spending money on him and others. He does it all the time. He knows he won’t take cash with him in the grave.

But he doesn’t want to date someone who only dreams of a luxurious lifestyle.

You let out a sigh as you check the prices once more, "Fuck, but I can’t pay for that."

Only you were meant to hear that. But your muffled whisper still reached Wolf’s ears, "You’re not paying. I am."

"I can’t let you pay for everything!" you let out in a high pitched voice.

"I asked you out, I pay."

You tilt your head to the side, "That’s very old school mentality."

Wolf shrugs, "I don’t care."

"Whatever, next time, I’m the one paying," you say confidently. But your confidence dwindles immediately and you gulp, "But I can’t afford to come to this type of place."

Wolf is smirking now, gaze locked on you, unwavering as he keeps his mouth shut. Fuck, why is he looking at you like that? What can you say, you work part time in a coffee shop, of course you can’t compete with a boy who’s involved in illegal activities.

"W—What?"

"So, there’s gonna be a next time, uh?"

You roll your eyes, covering your face with both hands, "Shut up."

He chuckles, "I’m very okay with the idea."

To your surprise, dinner went by so smoothly you both talked endlessly, never giving enough time for silence to settle in. And when you would both savor your food, the dreaded silence was actually… very pleasant.

You caught Wolf’s eyes on you way too many times to count and when you thought he would tear his gaze away in embarrassment, he would just stare at you with the ghost of a smile growing on his lips the more the blush would spread on your cheeks.

Now you’re both standing outside the restaurant, Wolf leaning against his bike as you eye him with a smile you can no longer contain.

"Thank you, Wolf," you say. "I had a great time."

He lets out a relaxed breath when he hears your voice, a smile creeping up on his face, "Me too."

Your attention lands on the couple standing a few feet away, as a child is looking at you with wide eyes. When you look at the little boy, he breaks into a big smile. You can’t help but smile back, waving your hand at him, "Hi there!"

The little boy shakes his hand before covering his face with the other one, smiling even wider. You could just melt right there and then.

The mother seems to notice and looks at you with an apologetic expression, "Oh, I’m sorry, he does that with some girls." She crouches down and rubs his hair, "Okay, honey, let’s go home!"

But the child can’t tear his gaze away from you, waving his hands and shooting you warm smiles. Wolf looks at him and shakes his head knowingly, "Ah, she’s pretty, uh?"

The boy shyly nods, both intimidated and hypnotized by Wolf’s purple hair and deep gaze. Wolf laughs at the child, "I know, I know. But I can’t let you steal her away from me."

You, on the other hand, are on the verge of fainting. This simple interaction between Wolf and a little boy is enough to throw all dignity to the ground and kiss your date right there and then.

But you simply sit down behind him on his bike and try your hardest to slow your heart down when he drives you home.

And, even if a part of you wishes you would have kissed Wolf tonight, you appreciate even more that Wolf didn’t try to kiss you when you parted ways in front of your apartment complex.

You have just enough time to take a shower and slip under your bedsheets that you receive a notification on your phone.

KSJ dmed you.

You open the app with butterflies in your chest and trembling fingertips.

KSJ

so you said you were paying next time

when and where?

Does he like you so much that he barely gets home from the first date and immediately wants to plan the second one?

Isn’t all of this just a very long dream? You can’t even hate yourself anymore for wanting all of this to be your reality. You can’t hate yourself for falling right back into your old crush.

Y/N

eager much?

next friday i’ll send you the place

Wolf answers almost instantly.

KSJ

don’t forget to forget your wallet

The laughter that escapes your throat is loud and your hand flies to your mouth, praying you didn’t awake your parents.

The instant fear is immediately forgotten, replaced by a stupid grin on your face.

Honestly, you’re pretty sure you fell asleep smiling like an idiot.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

You’ve been smiling like an idiot during the whole week, actually. It’s like you’ve been transported above the clouds and get to experience the most amazing dream in your real life.

It’s like you can almost touch the stars with your feet still planted on the ground.

You’ve been texting Wolf almost every day this week, talking about anything and everything. Some mornings, he even stopped by your place to drive you to school.

If people weren’t whispering loud enough in the hallways, now that was all you could hear.

KSJ

tried this coffee place this morning

* picture attached *

gross

never go there

You catch yourself letting out a slight giggle inside the school’s bathroom stall. Something inside of you yearns for casual messages like these. You never thought Wolf could be like this. And if you weren’t hooked before, you definitely are now.

Y/N

rookie mistake

lamest place in seoul

i hope you threatened the boss for a refund

KSJ

ayyyy y/n!

so you want me to fight?

didn’t know you liked that about me

Y/N

🙄🙄🙄🙄

pls dont fight over a coffee

KSJ

okay princess

btw can we say 8.30 tonight?

i have something to do before and idk if i’ll be out on time to be there at 8

You ignore the way your heart jumps in your throat at the nickname. Wolf will be the death of you.

Y/N

yeah 8.30 is all good

KSJ

perfect !

see you tonight

You’ll never say this to anyone (or maybe Myung if she really insists) but you’ve planned your outfit for tonight… three days ago. With each passing day, you realize you’re really living the life of the main character in any romantic comedy.

You fall asleep thinking about Wolf, sometimes he pops up in your dreams and you wake up just before you two can share a kiss, you wake up all giddy and excited for the day even if you don’t see him. You feel more energetic at school and work, yet, you don’t remember anything except the texts exchanged with Wolf and the butterflies in your stomach when he visits you at work or drops a cup of coffee on your school desk.

Tonight can’t come soon enough but your happiness takes a sour taste in your mouth when you hear the voices of some girls in the school’s bathroom.

"I’m sure Wolf’s just messing with Y/N," a first girl says firmly.

A few girls giggle before a new voice speaks, "Right?! Like, she’s so plain."

"Not even the prettiest girl in the school."

"You meant in her class, uh?"

The laughters that fill the room come piercing through your heart like a knife. You know they are just being extremely jealous. You know you aren’t the prettiest girl in the school, not even in your class. You know that.

But you just started believing that Wolf really likes you for more than your looks. You wanted to trust you could be more than all of that.

"It has to be for a bet or something," another girl speaks. "He’ll throw her away when he’s bored."

"Yeah, next week!"

Finally, the girls exit the bathroom in a choir of laughter and you release the pained breath you’ve been holding in for a few minutes.

You can’t let them get into your head. They’re jealous, they’re jealous, they’re jealous. Wolf likes you. He said it multiple times. He texts you. Not them. He thinks you’re pretty. Tonight, he is going on a date with you. He showed up to a Yoosun party for you. Not them.

You spend the whole day reminding yourself of all the things Wolf did and said, pushing away all the negative thoughts.

At the end of the day, right before 8.30, as you’re about to push the door of the little jazz club, you listen to the voice message Myung sent you.

– okay babe, tonight’s the night. it’s the night where you make us proud. us, the lovers of love, us, the bad boy and top student trope lovers. and ugh, that DRESS, he’s gonna walk in and pass out! i love you, have fun and please, please, please kiss him! it’s been going on way too long, i’m begging you!

You like the message and reply with a few heart emojis before you finally walk in the bar. Immediately, you’re hit with the sweet notes of wood and musc —probably the scent of the place, and the pleasant music of the live band playing on the small stage.

Taking a seat at the bar, you politely greet the bartender, signaling that you are waiting for someone before ordering.

A few people are gathered in booths, sitting in front of each other or softly dancing near the stage. Dimmed lights, old paintings scattered on the walls, burgundy leather booths and green carpets create a very cozy atmosphere. You like that there is music but just enough that you don’t need to yell if you want to speak with someone.

The first few minutes, your eyes stay near the bar’s front door, expecting Wolf to walk in at any moment. You did expect him to show up a little after the said time, he did have something to do before.

But when fifteen minutes go by and he isn’t here, you pull out your phone and open instagram.

Y/N

i’m seated at the bar btw

You keep the conversation open for a few seconds but he doesn’t open the message. No big deal, he is probably on his bike and can’t check his phone.

Another fifteen minutes go by.

Y/N

is everything okay?

seen

Your heart jumps up when you notice Wolf just opened your message. Suddenly, the three dots appear, meaning he is currently typing. He must’ve been held up, probably something to do with the Union.

The three dots disappear.

You start counting. One, did he delete his message? Two, you can feel your throat tightening in apprehension. Three, the dots didn’t pop up again, Wolf must’ve closed the conversation.

And you wait and wait and wait, forced to order a random drink not to be the customer who walks in and doesn’t get anything even though she knows she’s probably being stood up by her date.

The voices of the girls in the bathroom earlier that day inevitably invade your mind. Oh, you didn’t want to believe them this morning, instead choosing to blame their jealousy, but they would be laughing at you if they were here. Even you want to laugh at yourself.

You don’t know what’s going on with Wolf. Maybe something very serious is going on. But how come he can check his phone then? You really want to believe there is an explanation but you can no longer stop the intrusive thoughts.

It’s 9.30 when you leave the bar with the feeling of the bartender’s eyes trailing behind you. There was a hint of pity in his gaze.

Maybe Wolf stumbled upon the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen on his way to the date. Maybe she was so beautiful he wiped you off his head in an instant. Maybe he realized you weren’t so special in the end and that he didn’t want to waste more time with you. Or maybe you were just a joke, a distraction.

Your walk home is as dull as one can be after falling off your perched position above the clouds.

You wish you would’ve listened to yourself in the first place. Wolf is a delinquent. Unreliable. Everything you’re not and everything you don’t want. You should’ve never confronted him weeks ago when he started randomly following you after work.

You were just a prey, a toy to satisfy his desire for action.

And you hate yourself for allowing the tears on your cheeks to melt with the hot water streaming on your body when you take your shower after making it home. Why does it feel so painful to be deceived by someone you never actually dated? And why can’t you just go back to how you felt before?

You don’t need love in your life, it’s not a goal for you. You have your friends and that’s enough. Any girl can have Wolf if they want to, you don’t want him. He was messing with you, he was messing with you, he was messing with you.

The prospect of binge watching your favorite tv show under your bedsheets is barely comforting but you’ll take anything to stop your thoughts.

Your heart clenches when you check your phone.

KSJ

my meeting took longer than planned

we’ve had big issues to deal with

i tried texting but i couldn’t

KSJ

i dont see you at the bar

did you leave already?

KSJ

three missed calls

KSJ

im in front of your place

i’ll wait for you

The butterflies in your stomach at the sight of all these messages are soon crushed by something else. Wolf was in a meeting. With the Union, certainly. Now, you aren’t surprised that what he had to do before your (canceled) date was related to that. But there is something you immediately notice.

He doesn’t apologize in his texts.

Isn’t that the first thing someone should do in a situation like this? You know for a fact you would be begging the other person to forgive you if you ever pulled something like that.

And you know Wolf has a big ego. He literally fights anyone who looks at him for over three seconds. Can you be with someone who doesn’t know how to say sorry?

Your answer is clear. No, you can’t.

Wolf tries to call you a few more times but you never pick up. He can find someone who’s more compliant, this person isn’t you.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

The dreaded meeting with Wolf happens the following Monday morning, when you arrive in front of the school.

You ignored his texts during the whole weekend, endlessly fighting against yourself not to get out of your apartment whenever he mentioned he was downstairs and wanted to talk to you.

You’ve been petty, you know that. But maybe it’s for the best if you just stop giving him the time of day. You two are way too different. You don’t think you have it in you to constantly wait for him to be done with his job with the Union, only to clean his scars and exchange a few words before you have to part ways for the night.

And what can he really offer you if he can’t keep his word nor can he apologize? He can definitely find someone better for the job, someone who will thrive with the fast paced and dangerous life of a delinquent.

Wolf stands up from his laidback position against his bike when he sees you walking in his direction.

Myung and Bongcha give you an encouraging look as Myung grabs your wrist, "I know you have all the reasons to ignore him but… at least listen to what he has to say."

You nod, aware that you can’t just walk past him when he is right there, eyes stuck on you. You notice he lets out a long breath.

"And communicate," Bongcha joins in. "He can’t guess what goes on in your head."

Your heart is drumming like crazy in your chest when you finally reach him. If only he wasn’t so nice to look at, if only you could slow your heartbeats knowing he tried to reach out to you all weekend, knowing he is there on a Monday morning.

You notice the bloodied scars on his knuckles and another one on his brow. It’s easy to guess what delayed him on Friday night must’ve been a fight with another gang.

"Hi," you say.

"You’re alive," Wolf tries to say playfully but his voice holds something calmer. Like he doesn’t know how to speak to you right now.

You only nod, biting your lower lip in expectation, gaze tearing away to focus on the swamp of students walking inside Ganghak.

"Let me make it up to you," Wolf offers, growing frustrated that your eyes seem to ignore his presence. "I’m picking you up after school."

Still no apology.

"I can’t," you reply in a heartbeat.

Wolf isn’t stupid. He knows he messed up. He knows you can’t be bought with coffees, a fancy dinner and flowers. And he knows you’re saying no because you don’t want to. Not because you can’t.

"I really didn’t think the meeting would take that long," Wolf explains calmly but his mind is running wild. "Then a fight happened and I couldn’t back down."

You sigh, "It’s not about that, honestly."

Wolf frowns at your words. He doesn’t understand what could make you ignore him if it isn’t related to what happened on Friday night.

"I get that you have your thing with the Union, it’s your life and I can only imagine it can get very hectic," you speak. "But… you never apologized, Wolf."

Wolf remains silent, feeling like he was hit by a truck. Wolf isn’t one to apologize. He never does because he is never wrong. Well, never until right now.

"I waited an hour for you," you continue. "The least you could do is say sorry."

Wolf doesn’t apologize. Usually, he accepts the defeat in silence and looks at his opponent with a newly found form of respect.

But you’re not an opponent, you’re the girl he’s been pining over for years. Like a lame and weak man unable to stop the growing feelings. And, funnily enough, he was never once ashamed.

It took him some time to understand why he was feeling so… weird around you. When it hit him, he knew he couldn’t just pretend what he was feeling could be ignored. He just needed to plan the way he would get closer to you.

When Wolf doesn’t budge, lips parted and stunned expression plastered on his face, you let out a sigh and take a step back, "I have to go. Bye, Wolf."

Wolf is forced to watch you leave, disappearing inside the Ganghak’s facility.

/\ /\ /\

\/ \/ \/

Wolf vanishes from your life after that.

You don’t see him at school, you don’t see him at the coffee shop, you don’t see him and his group of friends gathered on the terrace of a bar at night.

It’s been a week and Wolf just disappeared.

But your heart and mind can’t seem to follow along, instead replaying the moments you shared with him over and over again.

And for what? It’s not like you two ever dated. But you know it’s because your old crush was brought back to flames overnight. Because Wolf likes you (if he ever did, you were never sure) and because you thought, maybe, something could’ve happened between you two.

You’re brought back to reality with Myung’s hands squishing your cheeks, "Earth to Y/N!"

"Sorry, what did you say?"

"Wolf is here!"

Your heart skips a beat at the mention of the boy who never seems to leave your mind. Why are you freaking out? And when will it all end?

It’s like the universe decided to take your bland life and turn it into a movie.

It’s Friday night, Myung and Bongcha decided to drag you to a party hosted by Soohee, a girl from your class, as if they both forgot what almost happened last time you all went out.

You shouldn’t look. Really, it’s only going to hurt you even more. You’re lucky enough the guy you have feelings for always ditches school, you shouldn’t ruin all your efforts right now.

You shouldn’t look. But Myung’s next words make it even harder, "He’s looking at you. Didn’t stop ever since he saw you."

You’re screwed, too late, you can’t help it. Your brain is screaming not to but it’s all your heart wants. Slowly, you turn around and your eyes land on him. He’s so easy to spot, because of his purple hair probably, but you want to believe it’s like your eyes are made to find each other through the crowd.

A breath is stuck in your throat at the sight of him. He is wearing an oversized pleated black shirt, baggy jeans and a red bandana around his neck. You’re sure this entire outfit cost more than all the money you ever made working at the coffee shop.

You can feel his burning gaze on you, eyeing you up and down, not once feeling embarrassed that you’re seeing him. He fixes his glasses and gulps but never looks away.

Hwangmo flickers his eyes in your direction, wondering why Wolf doesn’t listen to him anymore. He chuckles knowingly and steps away, finding someone else to talk with. He can’t distract Wolf, he knows exactly why he decided to come to this party tonight.

You, on the other hand, can’t handle this anymore. It’s not like you asked him for something so difficult. If he was brave enough to apologize, maybe things would be different tonight.

You spin on your heels and make your way into the open kitchen. You aren’t a big drinker but maybe a beer will help you ignore him.

An entire hour goes by and, even if you can still feel Wolf’s eyes on you, you do a good job focusing your attention on your discussion with Bongcha. Something about a boy she met at cram school and that you would get along with him. You sense Bongcha could have a little crush but she shushes you before you can really start teasing her.

But the atmosphere seems to change when a boy pops up next to you near the kitchen island and starts a conversation.

You’ve never seen him before and find out he is Soohee’s cousin. He’s visiting for a week.

"Got any place to recommend in the city?" he asks, "I rarely have the chance to come."

You shrug, "I don’t know, it depends what you like."

Choi slightly leans forward and you try your best not to grimace because of his liquored breath, "Don’t know, what do you like?"

Oh god no, you really don’t want him to flirt with you. Wait, has he been flirting with you this whole time? You just thought he was being friendly. Why the hell would he flirt with someone when he doesn’t even live in the city?

Realization hits you. He is just a man after all.

Choi doesn’t falter in front of your awkward silence. Instead, he seems to notice something else. He frowns, "This dude’s been staring at me non stop. The fuck does he want?"

You twist your neck so fast you almost see stars. You know exactly who could be staring for so long. And you’re right. It’s Wolf.

Eyes flickering between Choi, who’s leaning against the kitchen island, and Wolf, who’s leaning against a wall in the living room, you immediately notice they’re staring at each other.

Fuck no, Choi doesn’t know about Wolf’s rule. One, Wolf’s doesn’t blink. Two, your heart speeds up at what you know is going to happen next. Three, Wolf smirks and pushes himself off the wall.

"What the fuck’s your problem, dude?" Choi rages.

You have to stop what’s about to happen. What does Wolf think he is doing? Isn’t he fighting enough being part of the Union?

Wolf slowly walks into the kitchen, letting out a small laugh, "My problem’s you’re talking to her."

Wolf points a finger in your direction and he sends you a quick look, losing his smirk for a second. When he looks back at Choi, he is closing his fists and twisting his wrists.

Choi is just really confused at this point. He looks back and forth between you and Wolf and notices you’re more focused on Wolf than on him. He seems to understand something, "Dude, I didn’t know she was taken or something! How could I fucking know if she doesn’t say shit!"

Wolf loses his smirk instantly. Blaming the girl he likes appears to be the worst thing Choi could’ve done and Wolf is ready to push you aside when you beat him to it.

Your hand latches around Wolf’s wrist and he blinks, immediately pulled out of his enraged state. He looks at you with his eyes open wider.

"Don’t fucking do it," you warn and, next thing you know, you’re pulling him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Your heart is racing. Wolf was a second away from knocking Choi down. You’ve seen the look in his eyes. The look that caused you to throw your crush for him into the flames, years ago.

You walk inside the first room down the hall, forcefully closing the door behind you both and pushing Wolf against it. Wolf’s back smashes against the wooden door, the sound bouncing against the walls.

You don’t care. He fights all the time, you know it didn’t hurt him.

Wolf’s heart is racing like crazy as he watches your annoyed state. You’re known for being calm and collected. He likes that about you. But he can’t deny it does something to him seeing you so fed up you threw him against a door with no second thought.

"What the fuck, Wolf?!" you seethe, pacing back and forth in front of him.

"I was doing you a favor," he says. "You were clearly uncomfortable."

"Oh, please, keep your favors," you roll your eyes. "You’re so fucking annoying, I really wanna slap you right now."

"Do it," Wolf dares seriously.

You’re too stunned to speak. Of course you’re not going to slap him. He deserves a good hit but you’ll never do it.

"If that’s what it takes for you to talk to me again, just do it."

He’s going to piss you off even more. He knows what it takes. A slap isn’t going to fix things.

"You know what it takes," you sigh angrily. "But you have an ego the size of a fucking mountain!"

"And you don’t?"

You gasp in disbelief, "No, actually, I don’t! Don’t turn the tables around here, you know you fucked up." You run a hand over your face, what’s the point of talking with him. "It doesn’t fucking matter, you don’t get it. It’s not that important anyway, it’s not like—"

"I’m sorry!" Wolf lets out loudly. "Fucking hell, Y/N. After the meeting, I fucking rushed to the bar. I looked for you everywhere."

There is a knot in your throat. Wolf just apologized.

"I know I fucked up. And I’m sorry," Wolf confesses, again. His voice is calmer this time.

What are you supposed to do now? You assumed he would never apologize and that you would have to let the time heal you of something that could’ve been and never was.

Wolf can tell you’re unsettled. You’re breathing a little faster and so is he. He’s never apologized before. Never like that. Never for anyone. He was always sure but it’s another confirmation that he’s got you under his skin. Like you cast a spell on him.

"Three years," Wolf breaks the silence.

You frown and look up, finding his eyes, "What?"

"You’ve asked me for how long I’ve liked you," Wolf says with a long sigh. "Three years."

Three years? But, what could’ve happened three years ago for Wolf to like you for that long?

Wolf can tell you’re trying to remember, "We were paired for a science project. I already thought you were the prettiest girl in the school. But we met up to work and it happened after my first big fight."

That science project? The one Myung was talking about on your way to the Yoosun party? At the time your crush on Wolf was stronger than ever? It can’t be real. You can’t believe it.

But you can now recall the moment perfectly.

You were nervous to the core. You were meeting with Wolf at the library, still praying he would work a little. At the time, he already had a reputation for ditching classes and letting others work for him.

Your face fell when he walked into the library and made his way to your table.

He was bleeding from everywhere. The nose, the lips, the knuckles, the eyebrows.

You were too shocked to reply when he greeted you and sat down next to you. Your eyes were glued to the big gash on the right side of his face, under his lips on his jawline. You winced, wondering how he could maintain such composure.

Your hands flew to grab your backpack. With fencing, slight injuries were bound to occur so you always had stuff to take care of bruises and cuts.

Too focused on gathering the materials, you didn’t notice Wolf’s frown as he wondered what you were doing. Honestly, he didn’t even know why he even bothered showing up to work on a school homework he didn’t even care for.

You two weren’t close. He had known you almost his whole life but you never became friends. So why did he come? He couldn’t tell.

With a hand gesture, you’ve asked him to turn his head to the side so you could apply some disinfectant, "It has to be cleaned right away."

Wolf was unsettled to say the least. Were you offering to clean his cuts? In the middle of the library? Were you… prioritizing him over school work?

Wolf didn’t wince when you sprayed the disinfectant on his bleeding skin. But he gulped at the proximity, watching the way you were leaning forward with the cotton pad, gently dabbing it on the injury.

One, his heart clenched in his chest.

You carefully unwrapped a bandage and gave him a soft smile, "You’ll have to change it two or three times a day."

Two, his eyes twitched and he couldn’t stop the sharp intake of breath as your fingers came closer and closer.

You placed the bandage over his injury, biting your lower lip in concentration. When you leaned back, something weird was happening in Wolf’s heart.

You were quick to put your stuff back in your bag, "Let’s work on the science project another time."

Three, Wolf’s heart skipped a beat.

So Wolf started liking you the day you cleaned his big injury? On the day you went home with a weight in your chest, knowing it was best to throw your crush on him in the garbage?

Something else hits you. The bandage on his face. Always at the same place. Exactly where you placed it on his face three years ago. You know the injury was rather serious, meaning he must have a scar there.

But a scar doesn’t mean there needs to be a bandage.

You don’t want to believe these two things are linked. You don’t want to but you can’t help it.

Wolf nervously bites his lower lip. His eyes never leave your face, observing the slight changes in your behavior as you remember the moment that caused his endless infatuation.

He barely blinks that you’ve taken three steps in his direction. Your eyes travel from his left eye to the right. Your breath gets caught in your throat when your eyes flicker to his lips.

Wolf didn’t even count to three that your hands find his body, one behind his neck and the other over his chest. Wolf immediately melts when your lips meet with his own.

His hands find your waist, gripping you so tight you know there is no space between your bodies.

The kiss is intense. Wolf’s lips are so much softer than anything you could’ve imagined. It’s soft but you’re pressing your lips harder, letting out a small gasp when Wolf bites your lower lip. You smile against his lips at the groan he lets out when you slightly pull his hair.

The kiss becomes sloppy, your heart leaps and your stomach twists as Wolf’s lips fasten against yours. He tastes like cigarettes and sweet liquor, you want more. The hands on your waist move around your back, tightening the grip even more and you can feel Wolf’s fingers lingering on the hem of your top.

Fuck, you can’t breathe anymore. Fuck, Wolf wouldn’t even have to ask for you let him slip his hand under your shirt. Fuck, you’re down bad.

You have to pull apart to take a breath. You really don’t want to stop kissing him but you need to breathe.

Your heart is bouncing in your chest and you can’t maintain eye contact with the way Wolf is looking at you. Has he ever looked at someone like that before? You can feel your knees buckling and your cheeks warming up when one of Wolf’s hands force your chin up.

There’s a twinkle in his eyes and he is breathing faster. Flushed cheeks and swollen lips, you would give everything to take a picture right now.

His voice is barely a whisper, "You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this."

You yelp when he swiftly switches positions, pushing you against the door and kissing you again with no warning.

The fingers on your chin tilt your head to the side before finding the back of your neck, his thumb rubbing the skin behind your ear. Wolf kisses you softly, responding to the way you move your lips against his.

When you kiss with urge, Wolf licks your bottom lip before biting your flesh and slightly finding your tongue with his when you open your mouth in surprise.

When you kiss slowly, doing anything to feel every inch of his plump lips, Wolf kisses you even slower as if he is trying to remember every piece of you.

And when he pulls back, he barely does. Far enough for you to breathe, close enough for his nose to rub against yours and his lips to constantly be brushing against yours.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore. You kissed Wolf. You initiated it. Not him. You.

You’ve never done this before. You’ve always let the other come forward first. Probably because you can never believe that someone can be into you like that.

Your brain doesn’t work properly anymore so you don’t care, you close the gap between your lips again. He feels so sweet on you, you want to kiss him until you can’t feel your lips anymore.

You melt when Wolf kisses you back as if it’s all he wants too.

Wolf is the first to pull away, aware that things are going to go too far if he doesn’t slow down now. He is very close from the edge at this point, dizzy and shaken to the core.

He isn’t going to say it but he didn’t think he could get more addicted to you. Then you kissed him. Wolf is screwed, he can’t deny the hold you have on him.

A breath gets stuck in Wolf’s throat when you gently play with the hair falling on his forehead, "Should we get out of here?"

Wolf doesn’t trust his voice, he only nods firmly, wasting no time to wrap a hand around yours and pulling you out of the room.

The music bouncing on the walls of the entire house doesn’t reach your ears. The faint smell of alcohol and cigarettes don’t reach your nose. The surprised looks of people when you’re seen breezing through the crowd with Wolf don’t reach your eyes.

You don’t even notice how Myung freaks out, barely containing a shriek as she holds onto a proudly smirking Bongcha for support.

Nothing matters anymore. You just want to get out of this house with Wolf.

The frisky wind feels like a gentle shock against your flushed and warm body as you stop in front of Wolf’s bike. You’ve offered him to leave this place but to go where? Truth is you don’t care.

When Wolf releases your hand to grab a helmet, you latch onto him, swiftly wrapping one arm around his chest.

Wolf feels like he is going to explode. He turns around to take a look at you. To make sure he isn’t dreaming this moment. If only he had known that you would touch him like this, your arm now around his back, that you would kiss him like this, that you would look at him like this.

If only he had known you would make his heart race insanely fast like this, he would have found a way to approach you sooner. Way sooner.

Wolf cups your cheeks with both hands and closes the gap, giving a kiss that has you almost moaning in his mouth.

Wolf is biting his lower lip when he pulls away, almost ready to just kiss you to no end. But it’s too soon, he’s just fixed things with you and he wants to take his time.

Wolf groans and is forced to break the eye contact at your flushed cheeks, swollen lips and big doe eyes, "Fuck, you’re driving me crazy."

The chuckle that comes out of your lips is the cutest thing he’s ever heard. He is really going insane at this point, he doesn’t even remember what he was supposed to do.

He blinks a few times and sees the bike. Quickly, he grabs a helmet and places it over your head. Now, he can’t just forget things and randomly kiss you, he’s keeping that for later.

"Let’s make that second date happen, yeah?" Wolf offers with a grin.

You nod quickly, sitting on the bike as you wait for him to do the same.

Wolf is about to turn on the engine, trying as hard as he can not to focus on your arm wrapped around his torso and the other over his shoulder, when you gasp. Wolf straightens, putting a hand on your thigh as a reflex, "What?"

"I said I’d pay for the second date but I forgot my wallet!"

Wolf’s body relaxes and you can feel his laugh against your chest, "That’s my girl."

AUTHOR’S NOTE. omg this was such a wild ride, i hope you enjoyed it (and that wolf wasn’t too ooc), anyways, i’m planning to write more for them so if you have ideas for some drabbles, please leave a comment or a private message !!!

Big day for annoying people (Suguru stans)

so it’s been very long… 😓😓 BUT i may or may not be working on a gojo royalty au so stay tuned. reqs r on their way i’ve just been so burnt out lately. if i go on hiatus for like 5 months again feel free to yell at me 😭😭

---

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡