#vampire!geto x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alexiroflife · 26 days ago

Text

jjk men as "sinners" vampires... trying to lure you in

MDNI, mentions of violence, ryan coogler's "sinners" film references, angst, vampire!au, slightly gory descriptions, a smidgen of fluff with a whole lot of seduction, uhh mentions of spit in choso's, f|ngering in choso's gulp, suggestive themese, mentions of death, taunting, i'm in a chokehold

gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji, sukuna

-> sinners changed my life. i don't even have the words. the history, the music, the representation, the cinematography??? BROTHERRRR. my culture is so beautiful and so is bo chow telling grace that he got the car warmed up after he turned and micheal b. jordan with vampire grills, so now i gotta make this a cross-fandom headcanon problem. ya'll this had to be done and it will be done with aot men too.

satoru gojo: "come give me a kiss..."

you know it's not your husband when you catch the flicker of hellfire in his normally, now you particularly realize, virtuous sapphire eyes. in the midst of tonight's horror, he stands so still as a symphony of daunting low humming, celtic triumphance, and the nauseating stench of blood rise into the air and intermix, dancing about in a manifestation of dark chaos. and there your husband is in the doorway, a partner to the horrors with a hand pressed to the frame as shaggy white hair flutters into lidded eyes. eyes that you know are no longer his.

his pink lips curve into a soft, flirtatious smile, one that you have seen time and time again. yet the image you would have sworn you knew like the back of your hand appears foreign to you. something silent, something sinister grasps it, and gone is the man you once knew. gone is the spirit from his gaze and grin, an undead mischief serving in its place.

"what's the matter, baby?"

his smooth voice rumbles into a playful taunt, filtering into your ears like a seductive lament for the dead. a rasping breath subtly catches his words, striking you as something like a predatory animal. your eyes well with tears as you look over satoru's pearly white skin, somehow even paler in the moonlight... he practically glows.

your eyes drift down to the tattered button-up adorning his strapping figure as he crosses an ankle over the other and leans, hovering over you between the invisible barrier protecting you from the outside of the club.

you gulp, tracing the patches of smeared blood over his white fabric with your trembling eyes, over the stains that coat his fingertips. your body shakes, a lump lodging itself in your throat as you are forced into abrupt mourning.

this isn't satoru. this isn't the man you love.

he's dead before you.

"you're looking a little pale," he continues, causing you to snap your eyes back up to his face. he tilts his head as his smirk stretches, dimples poking into his cheek with the subtly baring of his sharpened teeth.

it's strange. you can still feel his desire as he zones in on you, soaking you into his surveillance as he shamelessly admires your features like he wants to ravish you.

however, now, you are sure that he does not intend to ravish you the way you would necessarily hope.

"is my pretty girl not feeling well?” satoru practically bullies you with his tone and his words, for the monster knows exactly why you appear so unsettled before him. he is mentally stripping you down, taking you apart piece by piece, utilizing the love he knows you have for him as well as his love that has charged into hunger as a means to reel you in.

“do you want a kiss to make it all go away? that used to help with anything. i’m certain it’ll help now. aren’t you?”

your heart is hammering with fear, grief, love, and you are afraid to even open your mouth to speak. to make a single movement with your body. satoru has you paralyzed. a spell has been cast over you by some kind of curse, and you are distraught. distraught by the death that has suddenly gripped your husband of two years, and distraught by the fact that you are having a significantly hard time mustering up the strength to walk away from him.

for though his soul has left his body, it still looks like him. it still, to some extent, feels like him. your heart and mind and body still long to react to him as if he is still yours, as if he is still alive and human.

"come on, (y/n)."

and when he calls your name, it is still his voice that rings it, his tongue that your address rolls off of so longingly.

“just step on outside and give me a kiss.”

you must be insane for wanting to, you think to yourself. for how can you accept the vicious murder of your husband so easily, especially when he stands before you, devilishly handsome, asking you for something you did not think you would ever be able to give him again?

“come on. you know you want to,” satoru hums. “it’ll make you feel so much better. i can make that pout on your pretty face go away just like that.”

you do not even take offense when he refers to your bloodshot red puffy eyes, tear stained cheeks, and snotty nose as a ‘pout.’ all you hear is your satoru, and it kills you internally how desperately you still need him though every bone in your body is screaming at you to turn away before you are next.

when satoru catches that a part of him is getting to you somehow, he shifts himself slightly, lifting his head to stare down at you head on, his playfulness dwindling as his steely eyes sharpen.

“or… if you don’t wanna come outside…” he murmurs, eyes tracing down your body, studying calmly how tear droplets break from your chin and splatter onto your exposed chest. he takes in a slow, deep breath through his nose, distant memories of watching you dress in pink silk for tonight’s festivities fluttering somewhere in the back of his skull, further fueling his bloodlust, melded with an honest desire to never part with you.

you hold your breath, looking directly into his eyes as his lips part and shiny fangs peak through. “...you can just let me in so i can feel that pretty mouth of yours on mine. you wouldn’t have to worry about a thing. i’ll take care of it for you. just like i always do.”

his words wrap around you like a snake tightening its coils around prey, entrancing you in the steady dismantling of your self control.

your breath hitches in your throat, your fist tightening at your sides as your fingers dig in your palm hard enough to draw blood.

satoru notices, and for the first time since his slaughter, you see his lips spread into a toothy, excited grin, canines pointed enough to break skin with a simple nick.

“ohhh…” he coos “you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you gulp heart, fighting yourself internally, nose flaring, skin heating.

“well, i can make that happen. all you gotta do, pretty, is say the words.”

he brings his face in just the smallest bit closer, still confined to the outside by his current obstacle. you can smell the fading cologne on his neck, feel the bitter coolness of his breath fan your face.

“let me in.”

suguru geto: "you know better..."

"angel..."

you hear his voice practically singing for you from just outside the doorway, on the other side of the wall, but you do not dare fall for his charm. you can not afford to now, for it unfortunately may cost you your life.

but suguru geto has always been a twistedly persuasive man. perhaps it was the manipulative tendencies he tended to put to use when working with unpleasant people, but he never would have used them on you before...

not when he was alive and human, at least.

now, as you shield yourself by pressing your back to the wall just beside the entryway, hiding away from your turned fiancé's beautiful face, you dread the notion that you may fall victim to his pretty words.

"now, now. you know better than to hide away from me, let alone pretend you don't hear me speaking to you."

his gentle voice slinks into your ear, testing you, tempting you.

you tense, cramping up every muscle in your body as if that will help you reject him, as if restricting your body will somehow reduce your longing to be with him, no matter what he was turned into.

you can practically feel him. how he hovers, how he lingers just on the other side of where you stand, how he taunts you with his looming physicality, how he knows that your instilled connection to him will draw you out of hiding any moment now.

you want to fight the drug that is him that has somehow amplified in his vampiric state, but your fiancé is gone. he’s been ripped from you, and all that is left is this monster that resembles him, that is his flesh and bone but not his soul.

in spite of it all, in spite of the carnage he seeks and the chaos he wishes to inspire, it is still suguru geto. it is still his long beautiful hair, his silky skin, his damned hypnotic voice.

"don't do that to me, (y/n). don't ignore me. it makes me so sad."

you can hear the playful pout, and your stomach flips.

"i can hear you, you know. i can hear you breathing."

your eyes blow wide and you instinctively hold your breath, raising your head and pressing your lips together tightly.

a melodic, gentle chuckle slips out of him, the sound just as beautiful as it was when he was living.

"nice try, but that means i can hear when you try to hide it too."

christ, he will let nothing go unseen? he's torturing you, swarming you with the attention he knows you will not be able to deny.

"i can hear your heart beating too," he reveals, his voice dropping deeper, lower. "it's beating so fast. am i making you nervous?""

"just stop talking, suguru," you hush out along with your held breath, and now that you have answered, both you and suguru know that he's caught you.

"ahhh, there's that beautiful voice," he smiles. "how lovely it is to talk to you again, angel."

"suguru, this is-" you suck in some air as sweat beads over your forehead. "this is fucked. leave me alone."

"why are you giving me so much attitude? i thought you liked talking to me."

"you're not my fiancé."

"now how could you say such a thing when your fiancé is right here talking to you?"

"suguru, stop. i can't do this with you. you're gone. you're dead. i know why you're here, and you're not gonna get inside.''

"that's a bit pessimistic... i prefer to keep my mind open and stay positive."

"well, optimism isn't gonna make me do otherwise. i'm not letting you in."

"alright. then you can come outside to me."

you whip your head. "no," you deny sternly.

"you're thinking on this too much, (y/n)," he says. "i'm not gonna hurt you. you know i'd never hurt you."

"i don't believe you."

"i just want to see you. can't you at least let me do that?"

"i said no, suguru."

"you don't have to step outside. i won't make you," he continues. "i just want to speak to you face to face. i hate having this wall between us."

you close your eyes and grind down on your teeth.

he's too good at this. too good at making you want to give into him.

"just take a few steps to the right so we can talk in the doorway. i can't get in either way. you have nothing to worry about."

you do not answer, for you ponder it.

"(y/n)," he drawls. "what did i say about ignoring me?"

"shut up."

"you know that's not how we communicate. we never ignore each other."

and you hate yourself for it, but that is what does it for you. that is what crashes through the weak wall you temporarily had up in order to keep yourself from giving him too much, from deceiving you into eventually letting him inside. it starts with letting him see you, and nevertheless, you break because of how perfectly his previous words align with something the normal him would have said.

it is your only glimpse of who he was before he turned. before he died.

he fooled you, with references to your relationship style and the sweetness of his tone.

he must sense that you are relinquishing control, and he leans further into it. "right?"

"one minute," you state swiftly. "you have one minute to say what you want to say to me."

"one minute," he agrees, humoring what you convince yourself to be the control you already lost. "no more and no less."

you know you shouldn't. you know you'll only fall for what he tells you.

but you have to look him in the eye and see him truly changed before you.

so you cautiously step away from the wall and into the doorway, open to a perfect view of the vast land and abandoned cars.

suguru slowly saunters his way over, a satisfied smile capturing his face with shining eyes. his hair sways with his movements as he stands before you, the splatters of blood on his cheek not going unseen.

the urge to cry takes over you as you look over him, and his smile widens. "atta girl."

nanami kento: "i got the car all warmed up..."

you think you're dreaming up some kind of horrific nightmare for a moment.

it all happened so fast. the witnessing of a demon of the night flying into your innocent friend, sinking teeth into his neck and blood spurting about the grass and the side of the wall.

you could only pray that your husband made it home safely until you see him saunter over to the open doorway where you stand calmly, dress shoes crunching into the gravel as he approaches. the bloody scene transpires to the side, and you find yourself whipping your head between both the murder and the unfathomable sight of your husband, who has not even spared a glance into that direction.

"k-kento?" you stammer, heartbeat in your ears.

the said man looks up at you and smiles, fiddling with his car keys.

you do not wish to think the worst. you know this image is strange, but you do not want to entertain the thought... that your husband has become one of them.

yet his entire presence is offputting. not a trace of anxiety or concern for anything is written on his face. he presents as something like a simulation or robot beyond your comprehension, for this thing is not behaving the way your husband, nanami, would, despite his identical likeness to him.

"let's go, honey," he looks at you blankly with a small, polite smile. you blink, immensely confounded. you twitch to go with him, but those around you, as well as yourself, instinctively know that you must stay put.

you have not accepted it yet. you can not accept it yet.

you furrow your brows, eyes glazing over as you look at your strapping husband in awe. he looks back at you almost lovingly, kindly, but it is not the same love and kindness you know him to possess. it feels empty, the way his honey brown eyes meet yours. it is like he is voice of feeling, void of any warmth that you once knew him to withhold.

"kento, what are you doing? what happened?"

the gnarly sound of hungry growling accompanied by flesh ripping fills the space when it is silent, and you fight how you want to look over.

you find it disturbing how the blonde has yet to spare a passing glance to the scene. a man is actively being devoured by a vampire right there before you all, and he looks at you expectantly as though he does not notice.

"i was just getting the car warmed up for you, sweetheart," he assures you affectionately. "it's all ready to go. come, love. let's go home."

home?

you feel something crumble within you.

you want to go home so terribly. it is the one thing you want more than anything in this life at the time being, and kento knew that before stepping out to get the car. he knew by the look of terror on your face that he had to get you out of here, so he tredded out into unknown danger for you hours ago. he got the car started for you. and he came back for you...

but you realize that the nanami that left you is not the same nanami that has returned to you.

kento turns after your pause to outstretch his had clutching the keys and click a button. your car beeps in response, but you did not miss the blood staining the back of his shirt that is only revealed when he turns his body.

your jaw hangs open and your hands come to cover your mouth to prevent from openly wailing. this catches kento's attention, as he turns back around and lowers the keys.

"see?"

he lifts his brows at you, holding out his hand toward you. your eyes blur over with tears as you stare at his hand. the hand you would once eagerly clasp in your own now tinged with blurred red.

"let's go."

"ken, wh-" you're shaking uncontrollably. struggling to speak through your tremors as your hands hover over your face. "d-do you not see what's- what's happening right next to you?"

a tear breaks past your lashes as kento finally turns to look, and a naive part of you almost hopes that he will jump back in shock upon taking in the sight he could have possibly missed.

instead, he lowers his head with a soft chuckle. his hair, once slicked back, falls over his face in waterfall-like strands as he ducks in amusement. "don't worry about that, honey. he's just a little hungry. that's all."

you think you are going to be sick when you register his reply.

kento looks back up at you casually, stretching his hand out to you once more. "i'll get you away from that. it's alright."

you can hardly see him now through your tears, and you do not wish to. you can not look at the face that was once true to you as whatever hides in his skin tries to trick you with sweet promises.

your husband is dead, you realize, and your world comes crashing down around you.

it all happens within your mind, however, as you are now void of any words that could even begin to respond appropriately to this situation or convey how you are feeling.

kento notices how you do not take his hand and he lets it fall to his side. "if you're not comfortable with that, then..." he pauses, tucking the car keys back into his pocket.

he takes a few steps closer to the doorway, pressing his lips together as he peers down at you peacefully. you unwind before him, yet he does not pay any mind to your turmoil.

instead, he presents you with another solution.

"then maybe you can let me in so i can get all of our things and head home."

he threads a bloody hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face so that he can see you clearly.

with this new view, you watch a pale light swirl in his dead brown eyes as he lowers his voice for you, and only you, to hear.

"would that be better for you, honey?"

choso kamo: "just a taste..."

you've never seen choso so commanding in his fit of desperation before.

the last you had seen of him before he whisked you away from a game of spades with the gentle call of your name and the clasp of your hand was when he stepped outside to ensure the area was safe at this time of night.

and suddenly, he's come back with a blinding hot urge to strip you naked and take you in the middle of the dance floor for everybody to see.

the club is alive with soulful music and dance, and therefore choso is as well, sliding warm palms expertly down your naval from behind, pressing your back flush to his chest as your hips sway with his.

he is so quiet, but you know he is there by the way he touches you, the way he breathes you in with his nose nudging the pulse of your neck, and the way his diamond eyes train on yours.

normally, the brunette's actions are careful, hesitant, but tonight he takes charge in the way he holds you and stares into your eyes, an unspoken greed simmering in his gaze.

your body knows better than to deny this, but your mind wishes to warn. something gnaws at you in the back of your mind to be careful, but you elect to ignore the feeling.

it's choso, after all. the man has been your loving boyfriend for years. he's the only man you would confidently say that you feel safe and secure in the presence of. if anything, you decide that the alcohol buzzing in your system has risen a hint of irrational paranoia.

so you lean into him, head falling against his shoulder as he further encircles you. he hovers over your shoulder, inching his face closer to yours as though on a mission. he keeps you snug, tightening his embrace of you and brushing the tip of his nose against yours.

the erratically soul-twisting strum of the guitar ascends, almost puppeteering choso's actions as he rushes in to kiss you hard, mirroring the pulse of the crowd with the swallowing of your mouth.

you hum, taken as he cradles your head and leans you over, dipping you as the chorus livens. choso is firm, possessive, and it has your head reeling. he feels different, suddenly. stoic, yet buzzing inside with hunger for you.

it does not take long before you are led in a daze to the nearby bathroom and shoved roughly up against the wall. you can not even open yours eyes to see choso slam the door behind him as he swarms you, lips swimming passionately together as he presses you between himself and the wall, leaving you with nowhere to run.

"cho," you moan as you momentarily part, a string of spit connecting your damp, swollen lips.

choso groans, a deep, desperate sound that he forces you to swallow when he pushes back in, tongue slithering into your cavern and intertwining with yours.

you're lightheaded, hardly cognizant of anything but your boyfriend's touch and the way you grind eagerly against his crotch. large palms caress over your dress, travel down, and sneak under the silk, sliding over bare skin and hiking your fabric up to your hip.

he hoists you up, your legs wrapping over his torso as he steadies you with a hand to the bum and your back flat against the wall. "don't look away from me," he breathes when he snaps his lips away from yours.

your heavy eyes search his as you nod obediently, lips parted. choso holds you gaze intensely, diamond eyes shining rather brilliantly as his free hand sneaks between the two of you, creeping fingers toward your heat.

your jaw falls open the moment his thick fingers brush against your bundle of nerves beneath your panties and your arms tighten around his neck instinctively. choso shudders an inhalation, keeping his eyes to you as he tugs your panties to the side and slowly drags his middle finger up your wet slit.

you gasp pleasantly and choso twitches, breath heavy.

"cho," you whisper his name again, but he does not stop. you can tell a part of him is listening to you though as his finger slowly nudges past your folds and to your entrance. you whimper softly. "c-cho, you're... you're drooling, baby."

and though he does very little to acknowledge your observation, a trail of saliva slides down his chin from the corner of his mouth. he says nothing, only grunting to himself as his finger slides into your warmth. you gape, knocking your head back against the wall as choso follows, bringing his slick lips to hover over yours.

"lick it off of me," he orders, hot against your skin.

the orgasmic spell you are under eases you into action. you lean forward pressing your tongue out to glide against his milky skin as he tenderly works his finger in and out of you. you both synchronize a needy moan as you lap up his spit, and choso catches your lips before you can fall away from him again.

your soft moans transition into muffled cries as choso swallows them up, an added finger, then suddenly three pistoning in and out of you with loud squelches. you cling to him tightly, drowning in pleasure as he kisses you as though it is the very last time he ever will.

he moves down to slather wet kisses over your jaw, then down to your neck. he sucks and slurps graciously at the skin. your cries blend into the music just outside the door, and choso lets you scream. he encourages you to - pushes you to.

you feel his teeth graze your neck in the midst of his kisses and he nips lightly. you feel him tremble. you clench around his fingers, inching closer and closer toward your high when you hear a sharp intake of air followed by the bitter pinch of teeth sinking into your neck.

you scream out in pain, your pleasure having been short-lived as choso rips his hand from your legs. his teeth are still embedded into your skin as you writhe against his strong hold, seering blood dribbling from the point of puncturing.

you are befuddled, startled, before the terror grips you. choso breaks free, ripping from your skin as you wail. he tosses his head back, savoring the blood that lingers on his lips and stains his mouth down to his chest. his tongue darts out to collect the dribbling, oozing liquid, and when he lifts his head, you see a monster staring back at you with yellow eyes and razor sharp teeth.

"you taste delicious, my love."

it is the very last thing you hear him say before your world goes dark.

toji fushiguro: "let me out, baby..."

you know you aren't hallucinating.

you felt his life leave him, you watched the light fade from his eyes as he stared up at you, angered, aggrieved, missing the future you in his very last moments.

you held his head as his blood soaked into your clothes, drenching your hands and arms. you sobbed over him as his guts spilled from his left side.

you watched your boyfriend die.

so how is it possible now...

that you can hear him on the other side of the storage room door, banging mercilessly against the locked door, calling out for you over and over.

you stare in shock and terror as the sound of his fists pounding against wood echoes throughout the space, the door itself creaking and curving outward under the sheer force of his hands.

you know that strength. you know those hurried, impatient grunts, the passion entangled with every dangerous shout of your name through the barrier that keeps you rightfully separated. you know the hoarseness of that voice, the impatience, the power.

you know it to be toji fushiguro's. you know it to belong to the love of your life's, but your mind betrays you when the recent memory of his murder flashes across your brain. toji is dead. you watched him die. you are mourning him right now, so what the fuck is fighting against the door, working desperately to break free from the only space occupied by your dead man's body?

"(y/n)!" he bellows again, a throaty, rugged call... the call of an otherworldy being, not the call of the man you know. "(y/n)! i know you can hear me, girl! why ain't you answering me?"

goosebumps sprout over the entirety of your skin, and your pupils shrink and your eyes grow wide. your heart sinks to your stomach and suddenly, you can not breathe. you can not think. you can not hear anything happening around you except for toji.

except for his undead presence.

and suddenly, the urge to see him strikes like a bolt of lightning. you had locked him away, urging yourself to stay far from the reminder of what you and many others have lost. you had pushed back thoughts of burying him to be dealt with later, for you had sworn to yourself that the last time you had seen him was the final time.

but there he was, manifested in sound alone just beyond that door.

it could have been a trick. it could have been a hallucination.

either way, you know it's too good to be true, which is why you are so drawn to see, to check, to take him in one more time.

you take a cautious step forward, shiu's demands for you to step back falling into white noise behind you. you approach the door slowly as it bangs until you are right there before it.

you press your hand to the caving door carefully, ever so slowly, and a whisper brushes past your lips. "toji."

suddenly, the pounding stops. the door lay still, silent, and toji's shouts for you cease. the empty air rings in your ears as you wait for it to be occupied by something again, anything that could bring him back to you.

everything is painfully still until you hear heavy feet shuffle.

"dollface," he exhales into something resembling a relieved chuckle. you jolt, stunned by his response, for it can only mean that the sound - the presence of toji is in fact real before you.

and his voice, now steady and low, treading with a light silkiness that almost gives you whiplash due to its contrast from his previous snarls, shakes something within you.

"talk t'me, doll. i know you're there," he encourages after a moment of prolonged silence. you ache and give in, just as you always would have.

"hi toji," you shiver.

you can practically hear him grin. you can feel him behind the door through your head as he knocks his head against it. you imagine his arms supporting his weight as they prop above his head on either side of the frame.

"hey, darlin'. that's right. it's me, it's toji," he breathes out as though exasperated. his voice is pressed to the door, muffled against your ear as you ease into him as much as you safely can. "i know you heard me callin' ya. why didn't you answer?"

you sniffle, throat tightening and brows scrunching. "toji, you were dead," you hiss. "i held you."

"nah, nah," he denies the very reality you both lived, the reality you will relive for the rest of time. "nah, it was just a little scratch. that's all it was. y'know it takes a lot more than that to knock me out. i'm all better now."

"you bled out. that thing... it attacked you."

"like i said. a scratch. it scratched me, but i survived. i'm alive."

he sounds almost manic to you, swearing things you know to be untrue. speaking to you with his mouth to the wood, urging you to be convinced by the tautness in his low voice.

you shake your head, trusting what you saw though it kills you. "no," you whimper, rubbing your forehead against the ridges of the door. "no, toji. no."

"what're you crying for, huh? i'm right here."

"you're dead, toji," you break out a sob.

"cut that out. you hear me talkin' to ya. i'm good," he grumbles. you close your eyes, imagining his head pressing against yours, his hands holding your waist, his scent capturing you.

"i can't," you tell yourself, him.

"heyyy, it'll all be okay, (y/n). i know ya miss me. i'm right here, darlin'. go ahead and open the door so i can show ya. i don't want you cryin' no more."

you press your lips together, swallowing down your cries as your chest jerks and the tears flow once more.

"...(y/n)... let me out, baby. let me out so i can see ya."

a part of you wants to. a part of you allows your hand to fall onto the door knob and just hold it as you toyed with the thought of letting him take you, of letting this monster posing as your boyfriend tear you away from life the way toji was torn from his.

"soon as you let me out, i can take you outta here. how's that sound? we can go wherever y'want. get some food, pop open a beer, and i'll lay you down over th'counter just the way ya like it. i'll love on you real sweet. yeah? you want that? just open up, and you got it."

you can feel his patience dwindling, for you have nothing more you can say.

"(y/n). doll..."

speech suddenly fails you, and before you can blink, your heart is jumping and you're moved hastily away when the pounding abruptly resumes and knocks against your head.

"(y/n)! get me th'fuck out of here! open the door! (y/n)!!"

you assume it is shiu who has gripped your arm and yanked you back as toji's fists attempt to break into the wood. he yells, growls, screams your name once more, reminding you that toji is long gone.

ryomen sukuna: “I’m here to help…”

"get the fuck away from here."

the stranger’s response to your sudden attempt at taking initiative is the same it had been the three times you’d spoken to him prior - a low chuckle accompanied by the trace of his eyes over your body.

you knew something was wrong with him the second he appeared in the fog, like a shadow manifesting from thin air. he had an energy about him, one off putting and bone chilling, cold and unliving.

the second he asked for permission to step inside the club you've taken cover in, you knew for sure something was terribly wrong. you did not take this burly giant as one who would ask anyone for anything. considering his stature, in all his 6’5 glory, he would have very little trouble pushing his way through, past a woman much smaller than him.

this is a being that exudes power, pride. and he certainly was not asking if he could come in to be polite.

and you, tormented by the vision of him, grip a wooden stake tightly in your grasp as you raise it overhead, demonstrating that you will use it to strike on him at any moment you need to - though that is not necessarily a major concern right now, considering the fact that the salmon haired beast can not even walk through the door without your say so.

you are sure he finds it amusing how you grip onto the piece of wood for dear life anyhow, for it is the only thing giving you any sense of security now that your only sense of security is dead, manifested in expired flash as a devil come to haunt victims.

this stake is the only thing you can cling to, to keep from breaking down, to provide some mask of bravery hiding away a heartbroken, terrified victim of massacre.

"my, my," the vampire known to you now as sukuna muses, that condescending tone you’d accustomed to buttering his voice. "you’ve got such a temper, peach. what makes you believe you can get away with talking to me like that?"

"i mean it,” you try to be firm. “go. away. you’re not welcome here.”

“hmmm,” he hums, smirking at you from where he stands a few feet away. he tucks his hands into his dress pants pockets and quirks a brow, flickering a fiery glow in his eye solely to tease you. “that’s not very kind of you. i was hoping to partake in some of your celebration.”

your jaw clenches.

“why so tense, eh?” he pokes gently, crimson eyes beaming their way through the darkness. they appear as small red dots to you from where you reside, and your lips tighten. those eyes, they beam like a serpent’s, like a killer’s, and in turn your blood runs cold beneath their guise. “you must relax. i don't mean any distress."

his voice is dripping with something sinister, and you can tell that he enjoys this mind game he plays with you. he lives for it, for watching you doubt yourself as you pathetically hold up something that likely will not be strong enough to stop the likes of him on its own.

"bullshit," you scoff, turning up your nose. "i know what you're here for."

"yes, as i told you. to celebrate... you should have kept the music playing."

your breathing hastens. "no. no, i know what you are. this isn't about the music, it's about you killing people."

"oh, dear. what a beautiful fool you are," the tan skinned being simpers, fangs shining with his wicked grin. there is something almost sedating about him, as well as there is something intensely frightening.

the ease in which he carries himself with, as though every stride he takes is one he has taken before and memorized... like the very earth was made for him to walk on.

the gentle threat that hides in plain sight within his eerie tone. how it is laced with seductive venom.

the unwavering confidence instilled in him. it unnerves you so, how he trusts that he will get what he wants though you are standing before him and refusing it.

he is too cool and collected for the horror that you know him to be, and it messes with your mind. it has you second-guessing your gut.

"would you like to know something, woman?"

he takes a step forward, to which you involuntarily take a step back from. your movement seems to please him, as he continues with his approach. you ensure that a space still divides you as he strolls up to the doorway, the light from inside illuminating his features.

you see the blood staining his lips, that piercing glow in his eye, and the greatness of his presence, all the better now. you lower the stake slightly, subconsciously, and sukuna's pleasure doubles.

you frown. "i thought i told you to get away."

"those friends of yours," he begins in a hushed tone. your face drops, as you know he is referring to the people he has killed and turned that likely roam about the club in the dusk as you speak. crimson eyes study your paling skin, and the skin beneath his eyes crease with gentle, malicious delight. "particularly... the one with the hat."

you freeze, for you knew it was coming. you knew he was going to taunt you with those he took away from you, and now he does so by making you relive the moment he killed your partner.

he sees that he has struck a nerve, taking note of your glassy eyes, and he presses further, staring you directly in the eye. "mmm. yes. that one. who seemed to have a love for groveling at your feet."

a strike to your heart. "shut up."

"his thoughts... his mind is connected to mine, you see? now that he has joined me," he continues, smirk widening the further your face plummets. "would you like to know... what he thinks of you?"

"no. stop."

"all the sinful, aggregious things that you haven't let him get away with yet?"

"stop it. stop it now."

"did you know that he thinks you're a prude? holding out on him like that. denying him such pleasures."

you know what he is doing. he is trying to push you to the edge. to make you appeal to nonsensical anger for hope that if you snap, you will stupidly challenge him and invite him in.

you can see it, but you find yourself reacting to him and falling into his trap anyway.

you raise the stake high once more, a newfound frustration and anguish clear on your face. you're fueling his fire. you know you are, but you can not seem to stop. he will not let you.

"come, peach. you can not expect yourself to always be wound up this tight. it makes for a bad impression on your lover. look at you," he purrs. "look at how stiff you've allowed yourself to be."

you're body is burning. your thoughts are jumbling with anger, with heartbreak, with desire, with fear, and you do not know what to do but hold onto this stake as a devil picks you apart piece by piece without even touching you.

he has been doing this all night, pushing your buttons, trying to get you to break. you're exhausted. you feel heavy, like you can sink into the floor, and the persistent, alluring jab of this ancient creature is doing little to help you push through.

there is barely anyone left, and he sees that. he sees you. he's seen you since the very first moment he approached this establishment.

"would it not feel amazing to just let go for a moment and give me what i want?" he hums, something sharp flickering in his eye. "if you give in to me, your little friend will surely feel it on my behalf."

his words break you. it is still hours from morning, and you can not take much more of this torment. you are tired. you feel unstable and violent, and you want to give in though you know you will lose.

your lips curl into a tight grimace as you glare ahead with wild eyes, watching the very moment sukuna knows that he has won.

487 notes · View notes

madamechrissy · 6 months ago

Text

Love at First Bite?

🩸Part One (coming soon)

🩸Pairings: Vamp!Gojo x you (main) - (minor) Vamp!Geto x you - (past) Nanami x you (fem reader)

🩸Summary: You lost your parents months ago on that bridge, you can never forgive yourself for being the reason your parents were driving that rainy night. Somehow, you survived, but now you can't feel anything. You're currently rotting away in your dorm room, when your best friends drag you to a frat party. And that's where you meet them, Satoru and Suguru, they're known as the brothers, the most popular guys there are. Suguru takes an interest in you, and so does Satoru, and you start to feel again, fuck you feel too much, but then... you find out things that shake your entire world, things beyond your understanding. Just who the fuck are they, and why did you find a picture of them from the 1800s in a school archive and why does Satoru look like he wants to eat you!?!?

🩸CW: Will be MDNI- light love triangle, based on TVD loosely, violence, some angst, you are Choso's lil sis and Yuji's older sis, College AU, Eventual smut, explicit sex, blood drinking/mentions of blood, a whole lot of back and forth, Satoru is the 'bad boy' Sugu is more the 'good guy' but we all know how that can go, Nanami is reader's ex and now bestie, main pairing is Satoru x reader (he is the Damon here- Sugu is Stefan lol)

FUTURE WIP- It's the Vampire Diaries inspired/JJK crossover NO ONE asked for, and idk if anyone WANTS lol, but I'm thinking of bringing!? If ya'll are interested in this drop a comment!!

Taglist open

526 notes · View notes

barbies1shots · 9 months ago

Text

☆- slow - rough sex, featuring GETO SUGURU, whiny geto, pathetic geto, slight feral geto, overstimulation, condescending reader, werewolf!geto x vampire!reader, implied fem reader but anyone can read, use of pretty girl, biting, riding - mating press

werewolf geto who ran most of your little errands. grabbing your clothing from the dry cleaners, picking up your shoes from the polishers, grabbing your supplied bloodbags from the bank. even with the crude way the other vampires look at him. the only thing on mind is pleasing you.

you looked at him from the corner of your eyes when he said he wanted a reward. that he deserved something since he was a good boy.

you, of course indulged in him and gave him what he wanted. a kiss. he nudged you to lay down on the couch, wanting you to be comfortable before he leaned down and kissed your lips. incredibly greedy for any affection. he pulled you impossibly closer from the waist and he moaned into the kiss. his tongue pushes into your mouth, licking everything. not even caring if it was a proper kiss now.

he whines once he trials his lips down your jaw and on your neck. he whines that he wants to finally mark you as his. that all the disgusting vampire smells were making his head hurt.

"What did you do to deserve more than a kiss, huh, pup?"

you giggled at his blunt answer, nothing but i want it. Want my pretty girl so bad. he didnt even know what he was saying. just babbling along with what his heart wants. you granted him permission, and he hurried to find the junction between your neck and your shoulder and sunk his teeth in. his canines hurting the most but he soothed it over with his rough tongue.

you let him strip you out of your clothing, helping him with the straps that his bigger fingers couldnt properly hold. see, he wasnt a virgin, no where close but your cunt makes him feel like one. the tightness, softness and warmness felt like he could come at any moment once he pushed in. with his head tilted back, he let out a groan from the back of his throat, his hold on your hips tightening so much that there will be brusies in the morning.

he leaned down to your neck, licking at the bite mark before he jerked his hips back and pushed them in. easily pressing into your g-spot and making you quiver. he reeled his hips back untill just the tip was grazing the outside muscle and snapped his hips, sending a horrid crashing wave of pleasure through your bones. yet suguru was already on the edge of tipping over, he couldnt keep his breathless moans to himself as he hid himself in your neck.

but as time grew on, his thrusts began to falter. the pleasure, for him, growing too much as he just focused on grinding into you.

"Are you struggling? Do you need my help? Its okay to cry for help, puppy,"

yet he just whined and pitifully nodded his head. he let you switch positions, your pillowy thighs caging his hips in and you lifted yourself up and sunk down onto him. this position takes him deeper, deeper into your tummy where it feels like hes in your throat.

a loud whimper escaped his lips once the back of your thighs met his hips, his chest was rising and falling incredibily. he placed his hands on your hips and you started to ride him. lifting yourself up and dropping yourself down. pressing down and grinding against him. your clit catching the dark hairs resting on his pelvis.

with every movement his thighs jerked and trembled as he struggled to keep his composure. he would gasp, his eyes fluttering shut, Damn, pretty girl, yesyes- please, just like that!-

with every movement it felt like you were riding him for his literal life. that he had to grasp onto his very soul so you couldnt fuck it out of him. your cunt felt like heaven itself, something so precious that should be taken for granted. he arched his back, feeling his canines grow with the sudden need to be even closer to you. a strong wave of possessiveness that reeled him in, a primal instinct.

every movement had him gritting his teeth as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. every movement of your slutty hips-

suddenly you were on your back, flipped over and pinned under the large mass of your werewolf lover, with him growling visicously down into your face. he didnt let you catch your breath or even ask questions before he filled you up again. the pace brutal and unfeeling as he just rutted into you like a filthy dog off the street.

he pressed his dick so deep, that there was a bulge in your tummy, the action forcing a sob to escape from your throat.

he hoisted your thighs onto his arms and he pressed down untill his head rested in your neck, and your thighs are pressed into your tummy, his lips brushing your mark as he fucked you. every rut felt like someone was taking a rock and smashing it into your lungs before purposly taking their finger and stabbing your g-spot. he fucked you and it hurt.

it hurt so good.

he growled possessivly when you ran your fingers through his hair to calm him down, he growled when you pressed your lips into the side of his neck, by his ear. he growled- no he howled when you sinked your fangs into his neck, far deeper than anything has ever gone before and he whimpered patheically as he came. the bite suprising him but feeling so good where he saw white spots scattering his vision as he came.

the pup filled you up so good and just continued to rut into your body like a mindless doll, not knowing when to stop or even how to stop. he didnt hear your distant voice crying out for him to get ahold of himself when he leaned down to bite into the opposite side of your neck. his muzzle now smered with your blood. all he felt was a blinding white pleasure and not your hands slapping at his chest and pelvis to give up.

poor puppy..:(

@aizawasbarb

677 notes · View notes

arminsumi · 2 years ago

Text

DRINK ME!

Quenching a vampire's thirst... in more ways than one!

Featuring : Sukuna, Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Choso + fem!reader

Warnings : 🔞 mdni/r : suggestive/smut/18+ content, horny vampires, blood, tying up (Sukuna's), biting (thighs, wrist, neck, hip), creampie / unprotected sex, oral (giving/receiving), face-f*cking, c*m drinking, "sl*t", double d*ck!Sukuna (and double penetration), there might be errors, +++

Note : ah this is a bit silly but idc i love vampires. they can suck me if i can suck them back if u know what i mean 😋🤤👍 enjoy!!

Sukuna

"Comfy?" he grins devilishly at you.

He's bound you to his throne... with your legs spread wide. You can't move an inch, only struggle against the restraining rope.

You made a deal with him; he can drink from you if he fucks you good afterwards as a reward.

He's relishing in your shudders, lightly tracing his sharp nails up your thighs just to elicit a small moan out of you.

His lips come closer, intense gaze burning into yours as he does so. You yelp and squeak when he drags his fangs over your thigh, scratching, inching closer to your panties and inhaling your aroused scent.

"What a nasty slut, getting wet from this." he mutters against your skin, scolding you with his eyes.

Then he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your inner thigh. He smirks as he drinks — and he drinks a bit too much, he gets a bit blood-drunk, so when he's done and coming up to level with your face, he crashes his blood-painted lips on yours and kisses you feverishly. It feels like his kiss knocks the wind out of you.

You feel the fingertip of his middle finger massaging into your pussy, searching up and down for your clit, finding it in no time and applying pressure while he breathes against you. It's buzzing, oversensitive, because he made you wait so long.

"P-please... c-c'mon don't tease... I've been good, r-right? I let you drink so much... please gimme your cock."

He just laughs, big hand trailing down his body to stroke his cock.

"Oh you've been a real good girl, alright. Don't worry. I'm gonna give you some good slut treatment. You better take everything I give you..."

It's hard to take everything he gives you, because by "everything" he meant both of his fat cocks in your tiny cunt and tinier ass... they fill you out so deliciously, pumping in and out of your holes until they get loosened up.

Your holes milk his cocks so perfectly, he's grunting and shooting his seed deep inside, squeezing your body.

"Take it, be a good fuckin' girl and take it... fuck." his composure slips for the small seconds of his orgasm, and his muscular thighs shudder 'n his meaty biceps twitch.

Satoru

"You taste so good..." he rasps. "Come on, let me have some more, yeah?"

He's already had a drink of you tonight — at the candlelit dinner that he forced you to attend; but he's greedy and wants more, not just a wine glass' worth of your blood.

"Greedy bastard..." you scoff, "If you want it, come get it."

You make him chase you down the corridors of his haunted mansion, enjoying the chase wholeheartedly. He pins you to the wall and wedges his knee between your thighs, his big lanky body casting a tall shadow over you as he sinks his fangs deep into your neck for the second time... it's his favorite spot to bite, not just because it gets you going, but because everyone will see his mark there (especially when you wear those low-cut gowns he buys you...)

He's giving you a feral sort of look. Your blood stains his lips. He's a sloppy eater; rivulets of blood drip down his chin and pool in his collarbones. You're a bit dizzy and weak from how much blood he sucked out of you, and he thinks it's cute.

"Thanks for the drink." he murmurs suggestively, "Now how about you suck me next?"

And oh, it's so funny to him how quickly you drop to your knees and willingly open your mouth. The bulge of his cock through his tight pants is mouth-watering.

You're so dizzy, he has to guide you up and down on his length; Satoru's a groaner and an eye-roller when your lips wrap around his cock. He's too long, always poking at the back of your throat and daring to stuff all those inches down it.

Your jaw aches as he fucks your face, but don't worry... he replenishes you as promised, with a mouthful of his creamy cum which you happily swallow.

Suguru

He speaks in a soft yet sinister voice.

"Just a little sip? I promise it doesn't hurt as much as you think."

He certainly wasn't intending to take just one sip. You knew that, yet still you willingly exposed your neck to him.

"Oh, no no, not your neck, pretty thing... give me your wrist."

Why does he want to drink from your wrist? Because to him, it feels more erotic than the neck.

He lays you on an alter, kissing and lapping his tongue at your inner wrist before biting into the sensitive flesh. He's sensual, he languidly sucks and gulps down your blood.

His kimono is loosely tied enough so that you can see that attractive strip of his defined torso.

He laughs while licking a stripe up your forearm, collecting the blood dripping down it. You're trying to thumb the kimono off his shoulders, your whole body hot and needy.

"Suguru... please... y-you got me all worked up, do something about it..."

"Aw, you want me to lay you here? Well I can't say no to those eyes. Let me relieve you... it's only fair, you gave me your body. So I'll give you mine. Spread your legs."

Nanami

He's more of a gentleman than a blood-sucking fiend. He's stoic. A neat eater. He'd never want to stain your clothes with blood, especially not this expensive outfit he bought you...

"Darling, are you really sure? It's going to hurt a lot for you."

When you give him consent once again, he hooks a finger onto his tie and pulls it down to loosen it.

He kisses the place he wants to bite, and pierces your skin with his fangs carefully. The second he tastes your blood, he loses composure, and holds your body tightly against his like you're a meal he's about to devour.

Nanami's so sweet. After a drink from you, he spoils you in between his luxury bedsheets, with his fat warm cock of course! He grunts 'n pounds harder each time you say "right there!", never missing a sweet spot because he knows your body so well by now.

Choso

He's brutally shy, just a college classmate that eyes you out down the corridors and walks very quickly past you while hanging his head in shame. And truly, Choso is so ashamed of his vampirism, so when you find out he's mortified and you have to chase him because he runs and hides his face in his scarf.

But after you give him reassurance, he feels less freakish. He stutters when you offer him a drink of your blood.

And when he drinks from you? He kneels for you, sinks his fangs into the plush of your hips... those hips that he swears hypnotize him.

He whimpers when he gets a taste of your blood, and feels himself getting hard just thinking about sinking his tongue inside your tiny cunt.

He wipes your blood off on the back of his hand and looks at you, cute fangs hooking over his quivering bottom lip.

"Th-thank you... for that... hey, do you mind if I kiss here?" he asks so shyly.

"Mhm, sure~" you smile down at him and it makes his tummy flip.

So he kisses 'n noses between your thighs, whimpering right onto your warm pussy. In no time you're pushing your panties aside an letting him swipe his tongue up and down your slit. Oh he's so lucky :( he gets to eat you out after drinking you up.

"So good... you taste so fucking gooddd..." he's choking on your juices, pleasuring your pussy like an amateur virgin because he is an amateur virgin, but that just makes it better.

"Cum on my face, please please please mmmf!" he begs, tongue stuffing inside your tight hole and wriggling around.

When you cum on his face, he cums hands-free in his pants and makes a big stain :(

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

2K notes · View notes

ohimsummer · 11 months ago

Text

BLOOD BANK

—minors dni, dc warning, vampire! suguru x reader, bloodsucking, predator/prey elements, light choking, kidnapping technically

wc 1.1k

there is a thrumming in the woods. a pair of hearts trying to out-beat each other, both for vastly different reasons.

the man—this dark-haired beast—savors his time in reaching you. his walk is a slow, menacing lumber, one he can afford to take when his prey is just some shivering little thing with their back literally to a wall. a lost lamb out in the woods, way out of their element and woefully easy to rip apart.

he looks amused. you imagine for someone like him, that you’re making quite the easy meal; fear cementing you to the spot, only part moving is the involuntary tremble in your limbs and those wide, frightful eyes looking for an escape route.

the tall, otherworldly man stops just several feet short of you. he waits, and when you make no sudden movements, he talks. “aren’t you going to run?”

it’s all a little…confusing. is he really giving you permission? he’s letting you go? or is this just another trick, granting you a sliver of hope before he promptly snatches you back into reality? there is only one way to find out.

you clamber up onto wobbly legs, using the large wall of rock behind you to help steady yourself. he only watches, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans, fascinated, amethyst eyes detailing your every clumsy move. staggered steps. the frantic turns of your head before you obviously pick a random direction to run, not even knowing where it goes, if it doesn’t lead to a dead end.

barely ten steps in, and you’re hitting the ground with a thud. your head makes a sharp collision with the ground, leaving you both stunned and confused. did you trip over your own feet again—

the heavy weight on top of you says otherwise.

as your captor manhandles you onto your back, a heap of whimpers worm their way up and out your throat. the helpless bleats of a caught animal. he pins your wrists with one hand before you can even fight back, legs on either side of you to straddle your waist. he turns his head to the side, moonlight catching on the sharp edge of his jawline, and he laughs at the weak flailing of your legs behind him. you’re so puny and vulnerable. he’s been having fun with you since the start.

your desperate mewl of ‘please’ is cut off with a shush, soft and low as if to console you. “no begging, my darling, none of that.”

he looms over your helpless form, leaning down to bury his nose in your neck and all you can do is cringe and cower further into the dirt. the man hesitates over the skin of your neck, and then you hear him, feel him take in a deep whiff of your scent.

“i hadn’t planned on hunting, tonight, “, he murmurs along your skin, lips tracing over the expanse of your throat, “but, you smelled too delightful for me to pass up, and i am dying to know if you taste just the same.”

he pulls back to admire you again, and long, feathery, raven locks form a curtain around you, isolating your vision to just him. him and those bewitching eyes that keep you so mesmerized, afraid to look away.

his other hand traces up the length of your arms, where the man laces fingers with you. he gives your hand a light squeeze, then presses it down hard enough to keep your other hand secure to the ground. the opposite hand comes to a rest on your throat, squeezing lightly as if he feels the blood racing through you.

never breaking his gaze gives you a first-hand view through the windows of his eyes, straight into his thoughts and you watch in horror as the veil of hunger in those violet shades morphs into pure, predatory greed. he doesn’t look like he wants to just play with you anymore. like he wants to maybe sink his teeth into you here and there. no, this is a look that says he yearns to devour you whole.

your captor can see the realization cross your features, and the look of sheer terror on your face makes him want to just go ahead and eat you right up.

“n—no, i—,” you begin writhing beneath him again, thrashing and pleading and crying for an out, but he doesn’t even have to adjust his strength to keep you in place. “i don’t taste good, i promise, i swear!”

the man only chuckles, amusing himself with your pitiful escape attempts. “let me be the judge of that.” and then he flashes you a wide, toothy grin.

a glimpse of those fangs turns your blood to ice, and your body goes numb. he laughs again as you grow still in an instant, long, forked tongue running over his glistening canines. they’re abnormally long, sharp as glass with a pointed tip. perfect for puncturing skin.

it happens faster than you can anticipate. his eyes narrow, and then a split-second later, there’s a light pressure on your neck, swiftly followed by stabbing pinpricks of pain. an abrupt gasp followed by a stuttered choke leaves your lips. your chest heaves. and then the man is looking at you again. there is red on his immaculate teeth, coating his lips, running down his chin to stain his once-pristine white shirt.

the side of your neck feels sore. a constant, throbbing pain just below your jawline, only soothed when he leans down again to run a warm tongue over the spot, feeding from you and, despite his courteous persona, it’s clear that he’s a messy eater. you can feel the smear of blood on your neck, jaw, dripping down to the dirt below and seeping into the earth.

“didn’t take you for a liar.” he is speaking again, working his snake-like tongue over his lips to poorly clean away the blood. “ i’m not usually one for sweets, but i can make an exception. just for you.”

a wave of nausea threatens to drown you entirely; birds swim in a halo around your head, eyesight blurry and faded. there are arms under your back and the bend in your knees, and then you are weightless.

“where….where are we…..”, you mumble out the incomplete inquiry.

“we’re going home.”, he says.

your head lolls to the side before resting on his chest. it’s firm, with the muted tone of his slowed heartbeat inside. his hair feels ticklish against your cheek. it makes your face scrunch up, and now there is the low rumble of his laughter at your expression. between that and the nausea, the exhaustion, it takes no time for you to drift off to sleep. and the last words you hear from the man is him calling you his new little blood bank.

🩸: @teddybeartoji @staryukis @babytoshiii @reiluvr @kentophilia @ohsuguru @risuola @soraya-daydreams @starlightanyaaa @luvvmae @domainexpansionmypants @apatauaia @b-b-b-my-b-f-f @getouolgy @sataraxia @leilalilox @sugu-love @akumicchi @sugojosgf @k-cris @triviahct @venzlenes @bubblez-blop @lovesickliyue

#yes im pretty sure vampires don’t have a heartbeat 😭 ignore it okay #suguru x reader #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #vampire! suguru #vampire! geto #vampire! suguru geto #jjk x reader #cw yan

418 notes · View notes

lilacxquartz · 3 months ago

Text

your hunger is mine (only mine);

vampire!hunter suguru geto x vampire f!reader

plot: tasked with killing you, vampire hunter suguru is driven mad with infatuation instead — themes: vampire au, slight plot, blood feeding, possessive behaviour, yandere, smut, p i v — w.c: 4k+ • masterlist • on ao3

For Suguru Geto, every day was the same.

He would wake up, hunt, eat, then sleep.

This was simply just the life he knew; from the moment the first light filtered in, he’d rise to sharpen his blades, dip the silver into holy water, and rehearse his prayers to pardon the dead. Suguru was what was expected of him, a man driven by a sense of duty that he felt he owed to the world—operating as though on clockwork—closing his eyes only when the cycle finished.

Only to repeat it all again.

For him, this was normal. Just like every other hunter that walked the world, he too, led a lonely life, married instead to the prospect of chasing whatever it was that lurked in the shadows, all so that those living in the settlements could have a semblance of peace. He’d push on, simply because he had to.

Though, then something changed. He woke up just like usual, he hunted, and that much stayed the same. But he didn’t eat, and he certainly couldn’t sleep—not when he was so captivated by what he had set out to destroy.

(You.)

~~~

The mission in itself was a simple enough affair; it was yet another tired night, guided by the cold glow of the moon. Missions often led him to blighted manors, which were once thriving residences, that now smelled like death itself. After a while of storming in and clearing such places though, they all started to blur and even look the same. This home wasn’t anything special.

Swiftly, methodically, Suguru purged the interior of a once noble family and its workers who scurried away like fleeting rats upon entry. Typically, vampires would rest in groups, huddled in a small room for both security, but also if they were simply dormant. Everything was going as planned, but then, he heard something deep into the heart of the house that made him pause.

A woman crying. Softly. Devastatingly.

As a result, he couldn’t help but investigate further, even while knowing that it could all be a trap. Sometimes, variations, as they were called, could make their way into a regular nest. If this was as he suspected, then he would have to turn in his base mission as it was, but something about those deeply mesmerising wails prevented him from turning around and leaving—despite every fiber of his being telling him otherwise—to investigate instead.

Slowly, carefully, Suguru tentatively extended his hand and pushed a dusty old door inside, his eyes falling over a pile of broken mirrors, one of which was held up by you, crying in the corner. Streaks of claw marks that peeled against the rotten walls marked up the area, leaving an unsavoury taste in his mouth. All of his senses told him that he stumbled upon something outside of his pay grade here, and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to leave. This, otherwise, was different, after all. You didn’t run when confronted, and much like every other variation that he had come across in his career, you didn’t lunge for his throat either.

Perhaps it was a bad idea then, but Suguru took upon the decision to approach you. His reflexes were fast, so he didn’t quite concern himself with you potentially catching him off guard, and as you turned, he once again hesitated. Your face just looked so… human? So fevered with peril and genuine anguish, as if ravaged by a sickness rather than a lapse of fading humanity.

For the first time in years, he felt something that he hadn’t felt for a while for these creatures. What was it again? Pity? Empathy? Whatever it was, it had been a feeling lost to him for a while, sending him back to the days of his first hunt, when he was torn between what made someone human and what didn’t.

All of the signs pointed to you being one of those things, so with that struggle in mind, he tried to push past his initial thoughts and try at least to finish the job. Suguru, as if locked in a trance, reached for his blades to strike you down, but then you did something that he hadn’t seen in all of his years on the job that made him freeze—that made his eyes grow wide—that made the blade clang onto the floor.

You… spoke.

Your voice, so human, so soft, whimpered out a stammered line, laced with genuine fear, “H-help me.”

Suguru gulped, allowing his eyes to drift to you.

In all of his years, he had never seen something like this. To him at least, these creatures—these things—these monsters, were anything but human, and yet, here you were; capable of communication. Initially, he tried to justify his reaction as a fear response, his hand desperately searching the floor for his fallen weapon, ready to banish you for good, but then you repeated yourself.

“Help.”

“Help me.”

“Don’t do this.”

For some reason, this was what it took to break him. Being a hunter was a lonely job; he had no idea if this was similar to humans technically, but he had also been isolated since the day of his training. Hunters could not operate in groups, let alone pairings. These abominations, also, would never go as far as to show fear, to beg for their lives, so he had potentially stumbled upon something new here that would be a waste if killed—at least in his mind.

His voice was tight as he tried to navigate this problem, grunting out a curt, “How?” when he finally succumbed to a reply. His eyes were narrowed, portraying an unreadable glare to conceal what he was truly thinking. If you were capable of speech, after all, then who was to say that you wouldn’t be capable of understanding too?

You tried to answer, letting the handheld mirror shatter on the ground like the rest. You turned to him, with your eyes wide and glassy, strained with pain and perhaps, also, a hint of hysteria. “I-I had recently been turned,” you falsely revealed, shooting out a clawed hand to clasp over his clothed arm, “I… I think I have to feed, but I really don’t want to…”

That wasn’t the whole truth for you, and you knew it. You had been here for more time than you knew, it’s just that you were still in touch with your old self. You could, technically, settle just like all of the others similar to you in the settlements, but there was something deeper that you craved. Your hunger was almost parasitic, and if luck would have it, you led your potential host right into your trap.

Suguru—the hunter before you—continued to regard you warily all the same, as though studying you to determine just what sort of personal threat it was that he was dealing with. He took note of how twitchy you were, betraying erratic undertones to your otherwise deceptively calm (for a vampire) demeanour. Something about you wasn’t entirely right and you were hiding something. You could have been someone recently turned, but you also could have been one of those new-age variations, that were even more difficult to detect.

Those types of things were always changing, after all, that’s something you both knew without needing to communicate it. The older, and even middle generations of the variations were capable of at least some kind of intelligence, which was what led to vampires huddling into groups rather than individually roaming. Perhaps the latest strain had adapted to become more human, evolving to potentially lure in hunters like himself into manipulated sympathy to spare him.

If that was it—he understood—every creature that occupied this cursed earth, for better or for worse, was just trying to survive. He couldn’t fault you for that, but also, at the same time, he could. Vampires and humans couldn’t coexist, at least, that’s what had been told for as long as he knew.

Still, despite being a hunter, he was still human; much against his better judgment, curiosity won out.

“How recently ago were you turned?” he asked, chancing a theory.

Predictably, your face went blank. You didn’t know the answer. It couldn’t have been that recent.

Suguru’s chest tightened as a result, a wave of unease spreading through his body. You were a variation that was capable of not only communication and understanding but playing a particular role that didn’t result in immediate violence. As a result, his mind briefly flashed over the possibility of turning you in for enough gold to last a lifetime, but for some reason, the thought didn’t linger. His violet gaze locked onto yours again, attempting to gauge something in particular from you. For a vampire to turn someone, there had to be an incubation period; variations happened from hastily turned occurrences, since for the last century or so, bite attacks happened more out of desperation than to feed.

Humans, as far as he understood, were simply just a delicacy—vampires were indeed still a threat, but, they didn’t exclusively target them. Just like how humans hunted to feast upon wild game or kept livestock, it wasn’t that unheard of for a hunter to report something similar back.

Therefore, you couldn’t have been starved—surely not—especially when the forest was so abundant with animals that passed through the trees.

His mind went back to the potential coin he could cash in, just for a brief moment, though. Suguru in theory, could cash you in and finally live within the settlements in peace. He could finally find someone special and adopt a peaceful life, but something at the same time begged for him to reconsider. Not only were you a pretty thing, but you were capable of holding back. You had an ethereal sort of look that was absent in humans, which would likely catch the eye of a brothel that would try and pedal your worth for as long as they could. Such instances had occurred in the past, too, with enough restraints in place.

Another possibility was that a research institution could try and get their hands on you, belonging to one of those laboratories that loomed in the dead center of the settlements. This too, would be a waste, because they would likely try and dissect you, subjecting your cadaver to autospies that wouldn’t necessarily mean anything until they’ve had at least a dozen few like you.

Suguru sighed.

What a predicament.

It wasn’t something that he could particularly control, but he wanted to be selfish with this. He wanted to study you for himself, as a hunter, his base job be damned. If you were truly self-aware enough, then he could potentially utilise this to favour his benefit. Vampires, after all, could read their own signatures, no matter where they were, whereas hunters had to go off based on intuition.

Calmly, Suguru drew up the sleeve of his shirt, unbuttoning the cuff so that he could offer you better reach, presenting you with a choice.

“How much would you need?” he asked, unable to quite believe that this was something he was truly considering.

“Not too much,” you murmured out, your response immediate, “just… just enough to take the edge off.”

Suguru nodded. “And, will I turn if I let you feed?”

You shook your head. “No, no… if I can avoid the veins, then you should be fine. It’s if the venom enters the bloodstream, that you will turn.”

(Wait. Venom? That was new information.)

Suguru’s eyes drifted down to meet with your lips, observing the pale blue tint to their complexion. You were as starved as you claimed, but you were also holding back. For what? He had given you plenty of opportunities to catch him at a vulnerable position, so you could have indeed lunged and doomed him at any given moment, but you didn’t. You also seemed to be aware of how turning worked, and what was needed to be done. All of this shared hesitation led him to believe that this could potentially result in a mutually beneficial outcome.

Just as you were about to take his offer, too, you held back, suddenly blurting out a panicked spiel of words, your fists tightened and tears streamed down your cheeks, your voice spiked with anguish and terror, “I-I hate what I am, you know,” you breathlessly confessed, “I hate myself—what I am—but I can’t just… let go of my life. I was like you before. Normal. But, you understand, don’t you? I can’t just stop living – not when it’s all I have left.”

Suguru sighed as he listened to your tortured words. Realistically, he knew that he was potentially giving into something that he shouldn’t, especially given his profession. He knew that he should have killed you to be done with it, earning his keep from your dragged-out corpse left to evaporate in the sun, or at best, left you alone to be dealt with at the hands of another hunter.

But he stayed.

So, whatever happened next, was on him.

“I’m going to help you,” he assured, steeling himself knowing that this was going to hurt, “but only because I’m curious, not because I care about you. Now, you can do this in two ways. You can take what I give you and listen to me, or you can flee and pray that the next hunter you come across, is even half as kind as me.”

He waited around for your response, but you didn’t respond with anything immediate. Your eyes were locked onto the contours of his inviting flesh, drawing your lips closer to his offering. Suguru’s breath hitched, expecting you to lunge, but you were excruciatingly slow. In a way, he supposed that the display was sensual, which made sense, knowing that vampires were supposed to be alluring to reel in the trust of their food. For a moment, he considered that he was a victim of such a thing; tricked into being fed upon by a new variation, who played into being more human than they truly were—

—Suguru hissed in pain.

The bite finally connected.

A sharp, pulsating shock traveled through his system, focusing right on his arm. He grunted as he tried to breathe away the pain, seething through his teeth as he tanked the sensation. Suguru’s jaw clenched as you sank your fangs into his aching skin; turning his head away before whipping it back to focus on you. A new feeling radiated just seconds after, letting him fall slack and relax against the wall. Just as quickly as the pain rose—pleasure did too, erasing all of the hurt—replacing it with something warmer.

Without even thinking about it, he allowed his free hand to drift and wrap around your scalp next, aiming to secure you into place while you fed. On occasion, you would blink up and catch his gaze, almost as if to confirm that his focus was planted directly on you. He paused at the sight, feeling something else within him stir, perhaps desire. His blood was being actively stolen, so through the dizzying rush of you feeding upon his very life essence, he couldn’t quite tell where the rest of his blood was rushing.

One thing was abundantly clear though.

He liked this.

Suguru released any tension that he ever had, leaning even further back as he led you to feed. Your soft lips felt like silk against his skin, feeding from him in teasingly slow gulps. For a moment, he lost himself in the blissful allure, understanding that there was no such human within the settlements that he could ever find to replicate the surreal reality of what he was experiencing right now. It was as if you had unlocked an addiction for him, leading him down a darker path when he should have been following the light—awakening something possessive within him—doomed to chase the newfound drug he sampled.

A thought crossed his mind, though.

You needed him to live, didn’t you?

If you were starved before, then he was your lifeline; your source of food—

—It was as swiftly over as it began, though, leading him to choke out a pained grunt as you pulled away.

You kept your promise, not bleeding him dry, not turning him—but in the heat of the moment—he wished for you to not stop. Suguru bit back a scoff, realising that had you potentially not kept true to your word, then he might have let you empty him for all that he was worth.

Sanguine red gloss coated your lips, dripping crimson down your chin. You stared at him with the very same lingering hunger he now desperately craved, but held back on advancing further. You were being just as careful as he was, getting him dependent to being around you, just as you felt around him. You tilted your head as you observed him, taking note of how his once murderous eyes melted into something betraying vulnerability instead, as if a chasm had been opened in his core, forming a void deep within.

You were sated, but he was not.

You studied him, indeed, as he forced himself to relax his hand and let go of your scalp, plucking his arm away. His body tensed as it came down from its painful high, a flush of rouge spreading across his cheeks as he tried to sit upright to conceal his arousal. His legs trembled, and his breath shuddered; the venom didn’t have to be exchanged, for your plan worked despite it, you secured a hunter again to protect your worth.

Suguru’s mind spiraled in the meantime, finding this situation abundantly frustrating. The hunt had changed, but for some reason, he couldn’t quite bring himself to care. Though he couldn’t help but feel that he was tricked somehow, fearing that now you had fed yourself, you might attempt to flee. He was damned if he was going to let you go, though, feeling the darker feeling return. The thought of you feeding upon someone else was upsetting, and he couldn’t for whatever reason, let you do that.

He drove himself mad for the rest of the night, unable to sleep. Such a longing need to be your only food source persisted to ravage his mind as you both recovered. Suguru pulled you in closer, tightening his arms around you. He looked down at you with half-lidded eyes, overcome with a rising hunger that was uglier than your own; where you lusted for mere sustenance, Suguru craved you on your own.

And as the morning finally arrived, Suguru’s eyes snapped open just as he felt himself doze off, revealing you attempting to sneak away. He whipped out his arms, wrapping his fingers tight around your wrists before you could truly flee. His reflexes were uncannily sharp, honed by years of hunting your very own kind. Suguru held onto you like a man crazed, pulling you flush against his chest, forcing his limbs to entangle with his own.

“No,” he simply stated, his breath running hot against your ear, “you will stay.”

Your lips parted as you thought of what to reply; in all of your years of manipulating hunters, they had never once been so possessive. For once, you felt as though you were as equally in danger as he must have felt when he first laid eyes upon you. You tried to relax regardless, trying to thaw your rigid state into the heat of his warm body, but the lingering unease remained all the same.

“You’re going to need only me from now on,” Suguru emphasised, “only me—just me.”

You tried to speak with him, only to be cut off, “I—”

“—you’ll let me sate your hunger, won’t you?” he asked, tracing his fingertips along your icy skin, “you won’t take your fill from anyone else.”

You fed him a look as a result, attempting to secure a promise within his crazed awakening. You were telling the truth, at least partially from before. No vampire enjoyed their life, so who were you to deny, that you perhaps wanted someone alive to make you feel if not, equally the same? To be treasured as a life, to be wanted, lusted for, just as one would with a living, breathing thing.

“I’ll carry on your burden,” he continued to promise, his voice a tone softer now, “you will not bear it alone.”

Suguru meant every bit of vowed promise that left his tongue and thoughts, too, his mind swirling with infatuation winning over logic, such a decision that would soon cling to his very state of being. As the nights came and went, you would on every other occasion ask to feed and Suguru would let you, the intense desire to let another sort of hunger claim him, claim you growing stronger with each passing hour.

He sat back all the same, yet this time, his mind was in a frenzied, almost feral state. He savoured the sensation of your fangs nestled in his flesh, of your lips brushing against him. He would cradle you, reeling you in tight against the core of his body, holding onto you with such want that it was completely maddening. Suguru quickly became a man, crazed, refusing to hunt for his keep, instead sustaining himself with a hunt for his lifeline, to feed you.

(What was his job again?)

(Who was he again?)

He watched you lap up his blood, just like he was used to by now, but tonight in particular, he let his arousal show and as if spurred on from your lack of complaint, he reluctantly pulled back from you, averting your blood-lusted gaze to meet with his own. He pulled you up, allowing your lips to crash against his—kissing—tasting himself with his tongue, driving him into unhinged heights of realisation alone.

He wanted you more than anything else.

Suguru’s fingernails dug into your hips, leaving behind bloodied half-moon scratches into your skin as he drew you in even closer. A part of him knew that he should be pulling away before this threatened to spiral even further, but you weren’t fighting him back on this either.

You wanted this too.

You were admittedly turned on, you couldn’t even deny it. You lost yourself in the same way that he had been losing himself from the very moment he laid eyes on you. Your fangs sank into his lips, grazing at the tender wet flesh; your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt too, as if to tether yourself to him in rising need.

A sharp sting pulsed through him as a result, a bead of blood that became mixed in the mutual kiss shared. Suguru shuddered, as a result, his violet eyes dark with something raw, perhaps even consuming.

“You’re…” he trailed off, unable to keep his eyes off of you, staring at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, “you’re the most dangerous thing I have ever come across.”

Realistically, he knew should have been afraid of what was about to happen—but he wasn’t—neither were you. The two of you might as well have both been too far gone. And so when you leaned in again, feeding him that same sultry look again, Suguru understood one thing in particular; he had to let you take him under because in the heat of the moment, he wanted to drown.

You straddled him in a rising frenzy, making quick work of the fabric that had both concealed your obvious arousal. Suguru, who was maddeningly hard, sought out your slick warmth with pained intensity. And as soon as he was able to do so, he plunged into you with frenzied ease, shuddering at the intoxicating intensity. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his arms pulled you in even closer and when he opened them again, he stared at you with a wild, close to hysterical light, finally understanding the true extent of his obsession with you.

“Fuck, you feel… so… good,” he grunted as he felt your hips roll with the buck of his rhythm, his words rutting out in tune with his thrusted impact.

You parted your lips away from him at the same time, seeking out his neck instead, knowing that you also shouldn’t, but when lost in a haze of lust, who were you too, if not a creature driven by pure instinct? Your teeth sank in, hitting his pulse point, feeding off of him as he impaled your heat, lost in a world of your own.

Suguru threw his head back with a strangled moan, feeling your teeth sink into his flesh, not quite fighting you back either. This sort of new pain was freshly intense with no pleasurable recovery, but he didn’t care, too lost in his possessive stupor to bring himself to stop you. Instead, he pushed you in even closer; entangling himself around your scalp, shuddering out gasps of fevered anguish from every little pull of your lips, from each swallow of his blood.

“Shit,” he gasped out, unable to quite control his reactions anymore. He drove himself into you with manic fervour, slamming himself with a ferocity that bordered on violence as he drowned in rising waves of dark ecstasy pulsing through his veins. His pace was relentless, almost punishing and painful, but he was too lost in the crazed pursuit of passion to even care.

Indeed, Suguru, with you, had managed to surrender himself utterly and completely to you, unable to even fight back against his life force slowly fading away with each passing draw of your lips. He held you tight, encouraging you to feed off of him deeper, encouraging you to take more as he pumped himself into you with heedless abandon; his own hips giving out, leaving you to guide his way to meet with the release he so desperately craved

Suguru held on, lulled into a tranquilised, if even overjoyed (at last) state, muttering out merely whispered instances of pleading mantras, “don’t stop,” was one you heard, “give yourself t’me,” was another; a man completely obsessed with keeping you right were you were.

You finished feeding soon though, needing him to stick around, even if the damage potentially done to his bloodstream was irreversible. Feeling himself come back too, Suguru held on tight against your hips, crashing himself into your cunt with a hurried frenzy, letting slip of a ragged gasp as he finally felt you come undone, with his sought-after release following suit just as quick. He continued to hold on, feeling himself pulse and twitch and empty into your battered sex; draining all of the pent-up tension, all of his anger, of his never-once-appointed passion, deep into your now-tight, spent core.

You fell over him as a result, finally relaxing as you melted atop his body. Suguru couldn’t help but shudder at the intensity of the afterglow, not even feeling angry for the changes he felt. He lost himself, after all, from the very moment he gave you a chance; so this was on him, not you. If not slightly dazed, he managed to lift his head and look at you, his eyes glazed and bloodshot, exhausted with possessive satisfaction.

Suguru kept you plugged up for the time being, unrelenting on his hold over you as if letting go of you would mean the end of the world. His breathing refused to calm and his thoughts raced with obsessive mania. The high lingered too, never once subsiding, not like before. Even as his vision blurred and faded to black, he knew he was going to be fine, because the look you gave him back was just as possessive in return.

You were his as much as he was yours and neither of you would allow another to state one another. You belonged to each other now. You were beyond what could have been codependent, perhaps even working as one.

A parasite you were, indeed, he not only carried your burden, but even in his potentially changed form, he would seek to still sustain you.

You watched on as he sighed, as his eyes finally fluttered shut, as his body sank further into a dreamless sleep, with his hold on you never once relaxing.

You followed suit, just as soon, content that you had found a solution for your hunger.

While Suguru finally had found a solution to his madness.

Perhaps this would be his undoing. Maybe even yours too.

(But maybe that was just meant to be.)

268 notes · View notes

aaazade · 4 months ago

Text

HOUSTON WE HAVE A PROBLEM ── EPISODE ONE 𖤐

⤷ 𝄞⨾ 𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒

AUTHOR'S NOTE : i do not own any of these characters except my own. minors, please do not interact as this is mature content with dark and sexual themes. all of my characters are black women so please respect that as you read! all lowercase is intended in this writing. PAIRING: rockstar!sukuna x tourmanager!blackreader RATING: 18+, again mdni WARNINGS: yandere-ish moments, rock band, reader is black, usage of being held hostage, dírty talk, vampire!sukuna, dubcon, biting, drinking blood, slowburn, eventual smut, sort of angsty, stalker!sukuna, set in mostly southern cities, attempted mind control, secret society, royalty, masked men, usage of foul language, assault and battery (not on reader)

𝐬𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: when tour manager!reader gets sucked into the rock world after big time group ‘dark curse’ seeks her out to plan and arrange their tour in the us. heinous secrets unfold about the group as she gets closer to the pink haired lead singer in the ‘bone demon’ mask. does she run for the hills or does she play cat and mouse? find out in "houston, we have a problem!"

deep wine velvety curtains creaked under your grip, anxious irises brimming over the surface of the masses roaring below the stage. backstage, the thrum of the bass vibrated the walls with a resonance that pounded through the protective ear buds you and the crew wore. the wind lapped through the humid open arena, like lashes from the deep currents of waves rushing against jagged edges of rocky cliffs.

dark curses, the japanese band you and your sister were hired to be tour managers for, succeeded in finishing their first tour stop in houston, texas.

“sis? everything’s alright? we got to make sure the boys end up at the hotel.”

your head swiveled to meet the sweet gaze of your older sister, hayden, who’s deep red manicure stroked your shoulder in typical, concerned sibling fashion.

“i’m fine, just making sure that everything is wrapping up soundly out there. i’ll call the hotel and you’ll have the tour bus come to the back right? like usual?” you maintained with a graceful simper, something in between grateful and awkward.

“you know it, girl! call me when you’re done so we can walk to our car together!” and with a dapple of a kiss to your cheek, hayden was off, heels clicking into the distance.

set to do your own job in hopes that the night will be over sooner than later, your feet pick up the pace, only settling down once you reach the dressing room area. no chances of a bad call when the service is best where the band resides before and after their concert. booking the best of the best is mandatory in this career field, nobody likes a cheap tour manager. so, you diligently do your job acknowledging the price and qualities is up to standards of the band’s liking.

but… when chills travel down your spine like electricity cracked down with the following boom, you immediately stop in your tracks. it almost feels.. predatory. like the gaze of an animal hiding in verdant bushes in the stocky forest waiting. watching. hoping that something sweet and delightful prances by to slaughter.

whipping around ready to high-tail it, you surveyed your surroundings, close to a gazelle when a mountain lion roar is heard nearby. a curious scarlet gaze examined the soft dips and curves you presented from the silhouette of your metallic jumpsuit. sharp, angular features, a full set of bitten, red lips that looked as if he had just previously enriched in a pomegranate, and thick strands of sakura-colored hair pulled into a low braid cascading down past his ribs. dark ink trailed from the highs of his cheekbones past under the collar of his onyx leather jacket. he was undeniably ethereal, like those old stories mama used to tell about fallen angels. how they were once mystic angels, but had been casted down onto earth to walk with the rest of the sinners.

ryomen sukuna. lead singer of ‘dark curses’. you weren’t quite familiar with the group out of their professional pretense, however, something swirled in the pit of your stomach at the lilt in his husky somber.

“somebody’s all jumpy.. i like that. much more alert than our last manager.” maybe there was a teasing tone in his voice. maybe the way his fangs that gleamed in the dark trenches of the backstage were all just a prop. maybe something isn’t rig-.

“what happened.. to your last manager?” you didn’t mean to vomit those words out, your anxiety clutching the beating tremors of your heart and shocking your nerves. but, your natural instinct to fight or flight was starting to zero in. eyebrows furrowing as your feet began to back up to create more distance.

and to that.. he snickered in delight, heavy laced boots stalking close just enough to be arms distance away from you. your eyes held a hardened resolve but your body shuttered, reacting involuntarily to his scent of deep umber and smoke.

“so what? are you perchance riding in the bus with us? there’s more than enough-”

“no, we have a chauffeur to make sure you guys have as much comfortability as possible. i… appreciate the offer though.” a small, forced grimace tilted the corners of your mouth along with the narrowing of your eyes before moving to step side him. the melodic chime of your sister calling out to you rung much louder as your heels click farther and farther away from him.

but under his breath, you swore you heard a faint mumble that strung your shoulders tighter.

“you won’t always be able to avoid me, [...].”

“are you sure it’s him, hayden? there’s no fucking way it can be, right?”

you and your sister sprawled out of the expensive cotton sheets of the hotel’s king sized bed. orange hues from old tiffany lamps ablaze the white plaster walls, creating a soft glow away from the moonlit path shining from the balcony window. It had been three days since the last time you both had seen the group, recuperating to be ready to venture out on the road to the next city, atlanta.

but, tragedy had struck in the deep city of houston. hayden broke through the door late in the chilled evening to announce the news. your driver, an older man named clark, was brutally assaulted in what seemed to be a mob attack that led him to be unconscious in a hospital bed. this wasn't like clark to get in situations that would incur violence in the first place. something’s in the water.. and you had a feeling that it’s closer than you think.

“it’s him, [..]. i’m for certain that it’s him, i already paid his hospital bills and sent our condolences. i mean-.. he has a family. grandchildren. i can’t imagine how they feel right now.”

your older sisters’s breath trembled, eyes perspirating with wet unshed tears as she stumbled over her words. your reflection matched hers, an unmistakable sorrow simmering between the both of you.

“I’m thankful for ryomen offering us to ride in their tour bus. that was kind of him. ” she softly wept, dapping her salty tears with the silk sleeve of her pajamas, a brand that you were sure she had no idea the name of.

wait.. what?

your gaze whipped towards hers, questions spiraling in your mind as if someone blew a house of cards down. how did he know? was he told by hayden? why would he go out of his way to offer up the tour bus that was presented to them? so many question, yet an extreme lack of answers.

swirling like lightening through the depths of a tornado was the tone of his voice that day when you left his side. those words.. the words she was so sure she had mistakenly heard.

‘tomorrow,’ you settled in your mind with a harden resolve. tommorow, you would observe and keep your distance.

the sky painted plum and raspberry delight in brush-like strokes in the eerily early morning in houston, texas. morning dew dipped in the sage beauty of the long stems of grass as they ventured past the parking lot in the journey towards the tour bus. the city was quiet, like it was holding its breath. waiting for something to arise.

outside , near the broad doors of the bus, a man with smoky brown hair wrapped into two loose ponytails on the top of his head tipped them an angled smile. not forced, but not genuine either. his chestnut eyes sunk in with purple hues decorating the bags under his fair skin as if it has been decades since he last felt a soft pillow support his head.

in his broad hands, sparked what looked like an old rusted lighter burning the orange end of his cigarette to life. as you two soared past him, offering small hellos, he stood in silence only blowing out puffs of smoke from his lungs.

choso, you recalled his name from the research that you and you sister conducted on the group. he was the drummer, preferring not to speak unless spoken to. an odd one, you heard rumors he prefers to write their pieces in the cemetery with the two guitarist.

“okay then..” you muttered, already feeling a bit weary of your surroundings.

stepping up into the tour bus, the air thickened with invisible smog, constructing around your throat and squeezing like a vice. again, the damn feeling of being watched surfaced, but this time you neglected the carnivorous examination.

instead, your eyes scampered over towards the interaction between your sister and the two guitarists, satoru gojo and suguru geto. they both stood at staggering heights, so far up that both of them had to sulk under the overheads of storage trunks right above their seats.

it almost felt intentional to you. the starking extreme differences.

platinum white strands against long obsidian locks. icy blue like an alaskan spring against a deep hazy violet, a winter’s bloom. boyish charm versus a sly fox’s seduction. so similar, yet the distinctive differences flow with each of their complexities.

oh, one more thing.

both of their gazes turned a little darker at the sight of your sister. while satoru grinned and hopped up from his seat to usher hayden between the two, suguru placed his arm around her waist and tugged her closer. between the three of them, no space was required. they breathed in each other’s air. lost in the world of three.

clearly, this has been ongoing, and once your sister peeked over her massive playthings to lock eyes with you, it confirmed all you needed to know.

“later..” you mouthed, narrowing your gaze at her. she is grown indeed… and older, but you were sisters. And she damn sure would have been riding your ass if you kept any parts of your love life from her.

not that you had any-

“ooh, i was wondering where your claws went, tiger.” damn him and his chilling baritone voice. you didn’t have to turn in his direction to pick guesses on who had a thing for frightening you. his slender fingers gestured to the spot next to him.

“ryomen.” you huffed, eyes simmering with defiance. you plopped arrogantly across from him, which only made the amusement dancing in his scarlet orbs all much more fiery.

he played with the darker ends of his pale pink hair, down and in pristine condition. He wore black on black, opting for something comfortable on the drive then the leather ensemble you saw him in the days before.

“i see you ended up here, just like i knew you would.”

silence simmered in the air, your brows furrowing with time as his words sunk into your chest, falling deeper into the rhythmic beats. how? how did he fucking know? the more and more you questioned his behavior, the more it starts to sound like a sick horror movie.

he leans closer, hand closing in on the soft curve of your jawline. his calloused hand tilted your face just a bit closer.. noses nearly touching in earnest. You sucked in a breath, heat flickering in the depths of your stomach as your brain tries it hardest to catch up with the change.

attempts were fruitful, that blazing expression of his mirroring the crackling allure to yours.

you hadn’t noticed that your sister watched, that choso climbed back on the bus, or that wheels began to roll. no. it was almost like he had you hypnotize with that flicker of a scarlet glow in his irises-

“mmm, go to sleep, tiger. the road ahead will be long.”

there was no room to question him and his strange behavior. your eyelids fluttered with strange obedience, darkness creeping in from the corner of your vision. haziness wooed you into a pair of strong, cold arms before you dipped into an abyss of sleep.

all work belongs to to @aaazade please do not copy, translate without permission, or post my work! let me know if anyone would like to be apart of my taglist as i post each episode. hope you enjoyed episode one!

154 notes · View notes

kikyoupdates · 9 months ago

Text

☁ yandere ♡ oneshot masterlist

🔮 masterlist ☁

❝ You don't know how or why, but you've been isekai'd into the world of Jujutsu Kaisen. Although your first instinct is to stay away from the plot, you've been blessed with an abnormal amount of cursed energy, and for better or worse, you find yourself sucked into the storyline. You decide that you may as well use your newfound powers for the greater good, and if you're lucky, you might succeed in rewriting some of the characters' fates. But it turns out that your presence in this world is an even bigger deal than you first thought, and soon, everyone wants to make you theirs.❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev and ao3

💫 masterlist

❝ You never believed reincarnation was possible, least of all in the fictional world of Jujutsu Kaisen. However, from the moment you meet Gojo Satoru, it’s impossible to deny. Whether it’s a miracle or some kind of curse, you find yourself growing up alongside the strongest jujutsu sorcerer. Unfortunately, you know what the future holds in store. You know exactly what kind of tragedies await. Perhaps that’s why you were brought into this world. If it means saving people from a gruesome fate, you’ll gladly suffer in their place. You’ll do whatever it takes. All for the sake of a better tomorrow. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev and ao3

🧪 masterlist

❝ You didn’t accomplish anything in your previous life. Looking back on it, you feel nothing but regret, and you yearn for the chance to do things differently. As it turns out, your wish is answered, and you are reborn into your favorite fictional world. This time, you resolve to make a change, and you have the means to do it. You won’t be content with just sitting on the sidelines and letting life pass you by. You will live boldly and vibrantly, as if every moment is your last. No matter what it takes, you are going to leave your mark. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev, ao3, and wattpad

💎 masterlist

❝ You are the product of a series of twisted experiments, an anomaly that shouldn’t have ever existed in the first place. Thankfully, you are taken into the arms of a hero and given a new purpose in life. But as you soon discover, it isn’t easy to deny your true nature, especially when you were made to destroy. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev and wattpad

💔 masterlist

❝ You awaken one day with virtually no memories. The only thing guiding you is some strange system that likes to dictate your every move, and for some reason, it insists that you make certain people fall in love with you. Desperate for answers, you decide to go along with its demands. After all, how hard can it be? ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev, ao3, and wattpad

💌 masterlist ☁

❝ Your Quirk is rather unique. It plays out almost like a game, giving you missions and goals that help you become stronger. On top of that, you also have the ability to charm those around you. It sounds innocent enough on paper, and you can’t help but revel in the attention everyone keeps showering you with. But what happens when their feelings give way to something more sinister? ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev and ao3

💋 masterlist

❝ As punishment for your sins, you, a young vampire, are banished — not just from your home, but to a different world entirely. Now, you find yourself in a foreign place where Quirks and heroes are the norm. In addition to coming to terms with your new life, you must also face your greatest challenge: controlling your massive thirst for blood. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev, wattpad, and ao3

💘 masterlist

❝ Ever since your Quirk first manifested, you’ve been the apple of everyone’s eye. With the goal of becoming a hero, you enroll to U.A. and soon find yourself drawing the attention of many. Will you form genuine connections with others, or is this all just your power's will? ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev and wattpad

🩸 masterlist ☁

❝ Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev and wattpad

🦋 masterlist ☁

❝ Hoping to try something new and earn a bit of money on the side, you join an app that lets people hire you for your dating services. The idea is pretty straightforward — you pose as the client's girlfriend for a brief period of time, and in turn, you receive payment. But you didn't foresee everyone getting so attached to you, and suddenly, they're no longer satisfied with a fabricated relationship. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev

🗡️ masterlist ☁

❝ Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you? ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev

💞 masterlist ☁

❝ A desperate cry on your deathbed leads to you being given a fresh start at life. You're overjoyed at having finally obtained a healthy body and a real chance at living normally, only to discover that you've been transported into a yandere game, where danger lurks at every corner. Determined to protect your new life at any cost, you vow to stay as far away from the major characters of the game as possible. But things don't always go as planned. ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev

🥀 masterlist ☁

❝ Following your mother’s recent passing, you are visited by a group of men claiming that your father abandoned all his debt and obligations, leaving you to take his place.❞

this story is completed on quotev

👑 masterlist ☁

❝ Your parents are thrilled to have secured an engagement for you with the royal family. Your suitor, the crown prince, has agreed to be wed to you. It seems as though your entire future has been assured, so why is it that from this moment onward, your life starts to fall apart at the seams? ❞

more chapters of this story are available on quotev

oneshot masterlist

⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰

about | links | library

399 notes · View notes

its-luna-noel · 6 months ago

Text

in my restless dreams, i see you | various!jjk x reader

01. you look lonely, i can fix that

Vampire lord Ryomen Sukuna gives you the gift of eternal life. It’s not all it’s cracked up to be. vampire lord!sukuna x reader vampire!geto x reader vampire hunter!gojo x reader

warnings: 18+, MDNI, f!reader, vampire!au, smut, drinking, partying, non-con elements, blood drinking, vampire turning, violence & blood, definite dark themes so DD:DNE

word count: 2.0k

chapter: 1/? next chapter

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hi welcome to the first chapter of restless dreams! this fic is inspired by the album by the same name by Savage Ga$p & KAMAARA. hope you enjoy xx

also quick note on reader: pov is fem!reader, no use of y/n. can be read with any physical characteristics, when i mention pallor that just means a lack of typical color, not necessarily white (only mentioning cause i reject stephanie meyer’s idea that vamps can’t be black/brown). okay thx bye

It’s your twentieth birthday when you’re turned.

Heavy bass thumps loudly through the club as you walk inside, hips swaying just enough to make your pretty little sundress flutter around your thighs. Your heels are just impressive enough to turn eyes towards you as you walk to the bar, heads turning and eyes roaming as you walk past. You flash a charming smile at the bartender and order your favorite drink.

Nobara sighs as she comes up beside you, leaning against the bar. “People are staring,” she tells you.

You offer that same smile, now with a mischievous twist. “That’s the point. I bet I won't have to pay for a single drink tonight.”

She sighs again when the bartender hands you your drink and slides her card across the bar top. “Starting now, I guess. Happy birthday.”

You just grin and take a long drink, tipping your head back and exposing the column of your throat. “Thanks, Nobes.”

A gentle hand comes to your back, and you look over as Maki comes around your shoulder to stand next to Nobara. She’s wearing a small smirk as she examines your face; it’s clear you’ve been pregaming for hours, if not all afternoon. “You ready to get dancing?”

You nod, taking another drink before taking the girls by the hand and leading them to the dance floor.

It’s a busy night; the floor is crowded with groups of friends just like yours dancing together. Flashing lights nearly blind you, but you don’t even care because you’re intoxicated by the smokey air and by the alcohol moving sluggishly through your veins. As soon as you find an open space, you drop your friends’ hands and lift your own into the air, reaching towards the stars as you start moving your hips to the sultry music.

You let the bass guide your movements, let the beat of the music move through your body as you tip your head back to take another sip from your drink. Condensation starts to drip from the side of the glass, and sweat beads on the side of your face, but you’re smiling with your eyes closed because it’s all so euphoric, and as you sing loudly to your favorite songs, you’re sure you’ll live forever.

Because what are your early twenties but immortality?

Nobara and Maki sing along too, and you’re all dancing together, throwing it back against each other’s hips in the sluttiest moves you’ve ever made, and you’re all laughing because you all love each other so deeply.

But that love isn’t what you’re looking for tonight.

And so when Nobara turns to Maki and takes her hips in her hands, grinding playfully against her ass with another boisterous laugh, you grin and shout over the music. “Want something to drink?”

They both nod, grinning back, and you totter off towards the bar, empty glasses propped up in your hands.

You order three more.

While you wait, watching the girls dance together, you feel the shadow of an indomitable presence behind you, and you’re already shivering before you even hear the voice in your ear, before you feel the soft brush of breath against your hair.

“You look lonely.”

You slowly turn, and your eyes widen a little.

Your eyes land first on black markings, thick lines of tattoos on skin that you’re sure might be rude to stare at, but you can’t help it. It’s the first thing you see, and then your drunken mind finally flickers and focuses on scarlet eyes gazing down at you, a dangerous smirk curling lips that are just as dangerous.

You feel like you’re seeing a walking nightmare, an incarnated desire, a realized fantasy. Standing next to you, coming to lean against the bar beside you, which causes him to stoop slightly from his incredible height.

“I can fix that,” he continues, and his smirk seems to only grow. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You blink, coming back to yourself, and shake your head a little. “I just ordered one,” you tell him.

He hums, and the sound rumbles deep in his broad chest. “That’s a shame,” he says, tilting his head as his eyes roam over you, from your face, down the curve of your throat, over your chest, down your belly to your hips, to your legs and feet adorned in heels…

You fight to swallow under the weight of his gaze.

His eyes finally flicker back to yours, and he smirks again. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be buying your own drinks,” he continues, and it feels like he’s chastising you, like he’s disappointed in you. You flush a little at his tone; you’ve never been spoken to like that, like you’re a misbehaving little puppy, and it sends heat through your body.

You stammer a response. “I-it’s going on my friend’s tab.”

He chuckles, a low sultry noise. “Ah, I see. And what’s the occasion?”

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you can’t help but answer. “It’s my birthday.”

His eyes light up a little, and his smirk widens into a full-blown grin. “Your birthday, huh? Well, then, I have to buy you a drink now. Can’t let the birthday girl go without a little gift, eh? How’s that sound, pretty girl; let me buy you your next drink?”

You couldn’t argue if you wanted to; you’re pliant under his dangerous gaze. You just nod obediently, watching his smile grow. “That’s a good girl,” he tells you.

You flush deeply at his words.

The bartender slides three drinks your way, and you wrap your hands around your glass, tipping it back and finishing it quickly. Then you grab the other two and nod your head towards your friends. “Let me give them these,” you say, hoping he won’t be gone when you come back.

He seems to see the question in your eyes; he smirks again. “I’ll be here,” he says.

So you hurry away, and try not to slosh the drinks all over you as you walk towards Nobara and Maki, still on the dance floor.

The girls are watching you closely, curiously, cautiously. You hand them your drinks, giving them a very particular look that they could recognize as excitement, and you mouth oh my god, he’s so hot, and neither of them can argue, because goddamn you caught a good one.

So they just offer smiles and mouth back go get him.

And so, once they take their drinks from your hands, you flutter back towards the bar, returning to the stranger’s side.

He offers a slow, lazy smile, gesturing to the bartender. “Order what you want,” he says, voice sending another shiver down your spine, because you can tell exactly what he’s thinking about doing to you if you stay in his presence.

But he’s just as intoxicating as the ethanol in your system, and so you stay, giggling and ordering yet another drink.

He continues to examine you with that heavy gaze, those dangerous eyes. “What’s your name?” he asks, eyes unabashedly roaming over your face, your throat, again.

You take it as a compliment. You tell him your name, and he hums and repeats it, and you have to hold back another giggle; it sounds so good coming from between his lips.

You want to hear it over and over again.

“Sukuna,” he introduces himself, and even just his name sends a shiver through you, because you can already feel the power he has over you. Then he says, “Dance with me.” It doesn’t sound like a question.

You nod anyway. “Okay,” You say, and once you finish your drink, you offer him your hand.

He takes it and guides you to the dance floor, his steps slow and measured, so confident it practically makes your knees shake. His hand is firm and surprisingly cool around yours, and when he’s got you back on the dance floor, he grabs your hip and pulls you back against his body.

His muscles are hard against your back, and his arousal is hard against your ass.

His large hand on your hip roams slowly, sensually, across your belly, tangling in your dress to feel the soft heat of you through the fabric. Then he moves back to your hip, gripping the flesh around bone to hold you in place as he starts to grind against you, his movements confident and practiced.

Your breath catches in your throat, and you press your ass back against him, swaying your hips against his. You feel his fingers tighten on your hip, and you know he’s just as affected by you as you are by him.

He dips his head to press a slowly, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your throat. Your lashes flutter as your eyes fall shut, and you tip your head out of the way for him, and you can feel him smile against your skin as he kisses lower, then lower.

He reaches the spot above your pulse, and he inhales slowly, breathing in the scent of you, your perfume, your sweat. You shiver as his breath fans across your skin, sending goosebumps rising along your skin. He chuckles quietly and moves another inch lower, moving towards the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“So pretty,” he murmurs into your skin, nuzzling into the curve there.

You tip your head back against his shoulder and close your eyes, hips still moving against his to the music. Your head feels light and airy, like you’re floating, and you know you’ve gotten too drunk, that you’ve put yourself in a dangerous position, but you can’t even bring yourself to care, because he dances so well against you. His hands move everywhere you want them, coming up to palm your breast through your dress, long fingers dragging down the neckline so he can catch a glimpse of your lacy bra.

He grunts against your neck, squeezing and massaging the soft tissue. “Pretty,” he says, and for some reason the word sounds like Mine.

You wouldn’t even mind if that’s what he meant.

It’s oppressively hot in the club, especially with him touching you like this, his palm now sliding back down your body to play with the skirt covering your upper thighs, like he wants to lift it up right there and take you in front of everyone. You’re not even sure if you’d stop him, if you’d want him to stop, his aura is just that overpowering, convincing, dominating. But he doesn’t; he just tugs the fabric back and forth, watching how it clings to your body.

You’re sweating, but his touch, his breath, his tongue are all much cooler than you would’ve expected.

That cool tongue brushes against your pulse point, and he finally lets out a small groan. “Damn,” he breathes against your neck. “Taste so good.”

You whimper softly, grinding back against him harder, movements needy and desperate.

He chuckles, the hand that’s been holding you still by the hip finally trailing up your body. His palm runs over your neck, gripping gently as he tips your head to the side. “You wanna leave, little girl?” he asks you, voice low, rumbling beneath the loud rhythm of the bass.

You nod, moaning softly as his lips press against your neck again. “Please,” you whisper.

He just chuckles again, noise pleased but slightly derisive. “Alright,” he says, and he pulls away, letting his hands drop from your body as he instead grabs your hand and starts to lead you off the dance floor. “Let’s go, then.”

You turn over your shoulder, catching Nobara’s eye, and flash a big smile and a thumbs up. Then you face forward again and follow obediently into the night.

thanks for reading! -luna xx next chapter

207 notes · View notes

cherbii · 2 months ago

Text

CARNAL | Suguru Geto

synopsis -> being a vampire hunter, you’ve sworn to obliterate any vampire that crosses your path, that was until a certain vampire comes into your life, and turns your world upside down.

warnings -> language, violence, biting, blood. SLOW BURN. SLOWEST BURN.

an. if this goes decent, perhaps I’ll do a pt 2 that’s a bit more intimate, and maybeeee even pt 3.

so pls enjoy all 27k words.

You were already halfway through sharpening the blade when the man sat down across from you. You didn’t look up right away. People didn’t come to the back corner of that bar unless they wanted something messy handled. Your knife scraped slow across the whetstone. You only stopped when his silence stretched too long to ignore.

He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. Expensive coat, creased at the sleeves from nerves. Soft hands. No callouses. He didn’t smell like alcohol or blood. He smelled like sweat and fear, the kind that soaked through even when you tried to hide it under cologne. His eyes flicked to your blade, then to your face, then down again. You leaned back in your seat.

“I don’t do cheating husbands,” you said.

He jumped like you’d slapped him. “No,” he said. “It’s not that. It’s... there’s something in the woods.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m serious,” he said. “People have been going missing for weeks. But not just disappearing. We found a body last night. Drained. Like... dry.”

You rolled your jaw once and leaned forward. “You sure it’s a body and not a story?”

He looked almost offended. “I saw it. I buried it. My sister’s boy.”

That made you pause. You studied him for a moment longer. Then you sheathed the blade and slid the whetstone back into your coat. “Where?”

“Eldenvale,” he said, voice low. “Northern edge. Past the grain mill. There's a trail behind the chapel. Locals avoid it. They say the trees watch you.”

“They always say that,” you muttered, standing. “Payment?”

He fumbled with a leather pouch and set it on the table. It clinked. You didn’t need to count it. You just nodded.

“When I’m done,” you said, and walked out before he could ask what that meant.

You hit the road before sunrise. You packed like always. Light. Layers. Tight black shirt, thick enough to stop a shallow blade but not stiff enough to slow your swing. Fingerless gloves worn down at the knuckles. A dark grey coat, lined, deep inner pockets. It didn’t flap when you moved. Everything you wore was chosen to make you forget you were wearing it.

Two daggers. One serrated. Both strapped to your thighs.A long blade across your back, slightly curved, oiled and resting against your spine.

A pouch on your belt—salts, ground bone, three vials of oil, thin rope, a strip of blood-drenched cloth wrapped in wax paper. Mirror shard in your left boot. Flint ring on your hand.

No silver. That only helped if you were sloppy.

And you weren’t sloppy.

By the time the sun cracked over the hills, you were already deep into Eldenvale. The village didn’t look like much. Just six homes, one chapel, and a collection of hollow-eyed locals who didn’t meet your gaze. You asked one question, where’s the trail, and were met with silence until a girl pointed with one hand while gripping her brother’s arm with the other. You nodded once and followed her direction.

The trail behind the chapel wasn’t marked, but you found it. It wasn’t the dirt path or the breaks in the trees that gave it away. It was the sudden hush. Birds stopped singing. Wind stopped moving. The air grew heavier like it was thick with breath you couldn’t hear.

You stood at the treeline and stared for a while.

You’d hunted plenty of things. Vampires weren’t new. Some were young and cocky, feeding sloppily and burning out fast. Others were old enough to mimic life, move from town to town with forged names and slow kills. You’d ended them all.

The trick was not to think of them as human. Not even close. A vampire was a parasite wrapped in skin. Cold, dead skin. It used memories like bait. It smiled like it meant something. You didn’t flinch when they cried. You didn’t hesitate when they begged.

This job was supposed to be the same.

You stepped into the forest. And immediately knew it wasn’t. You didn’t ask questions when the job came through. A name wasn’t offered and you didn’t need one.

All you were told was a forest, a pattern of drained corpses, and that the locals had stopped going near the trees altogether. That was enough. You packed light, checked your blades, filled the last of your vials with flammable oil, and left before the sun was up.

You didn’t bother saying where you were headed. No one would follow. Vampire hunts weren’t group efforts. They were clean-up jobs. Either you came back alone, or you didn’t come back at all.

The trees changed somewhere along the trail. You noticed it in the way the air thickened, how the wind stopped brushing the tops of the branches. They didn’t sway, didn’t creak, just stood tall and still like they were listening.

Fog rolled in from nowhere. It didn’t sting your eyes or carry a smell. It just existed, slow and heavy, turning the space between each trunk into something deeper than it should have been. You’d been in cursed forests before, but this one made your stomach shift in a way you couldn’t ignore. That meant you were close.

Signs were everywhere if you knew how to look. Dead birds without a mark on them. A fox curled up like it had gone to sleep and never woken up. No bugs. Not even ants. The forest was silent, not because it was empty, but because everything else was dead. That was the thing about older vampires. They didn’t just feed. They consumed. The smarter ones liked to linger. They didn’t just take blood. They took the rhythm of a place, drained the land dry until even the insects stopped trying. And then they moved on.

You crouched by a tree near a dried-up streambed, pressing your fingers into the dirt. It was cold. Not just from the weather, but unnaturally cold. There was no frost, no ice, and still it felt like pressing into stone. You pulled your hand back and wiped it against your coat. That kind of cold wasn’t natural. It meant something had slept here recently. Or maybe it still was.

You checked your gear again out of habit. You didn’t carry crosses. You’d seen too many bastards laugh at them to keep pretending they did anything. Faith didn’t burn the undead. Fire did. You adjusted the blade hidden at the small of your back and kept moving.

Branches cracked far off to your right. You froze. Waited. Another crunch, slower this time. It wasn’t an animal. There was no rhythm, no weight shift. It was footsteps, deliberately placed. Not running. Not chasing. Just moving. You slipped between the trees without a sound. You’d hunted long enough to know how to disappear. Whoever it was, they weren’t trying to hide. That was the first mistake. You didn’t think twice before you followed.

The steps led you deeper, where the fog thickened and light started to die. The trees crowded in, ancient and hunched, roots raised like they were trying to trip you. The ground sloped downward without you noticing, until the air felt thinner and each breath dragged colder than the last. Then the footsteps stopped.

You paused behind a trunk, eyes scanning the clearing ahead. Empty. No movement. No sound. Just a strange dip in the land where moss grew over stone and something like an altar sat, half-buried, old and crumbling. You watched for five minutes. Nothing. You hated waiting, but you weren’t stupid enough to walk into a trap. Eventually, you stepped out.

The clearing was colder than the rest of the woods. The kind of cold that settled into your chest and made your ribs ache. You moved slowly, eyes darting, hands steady. Still no sound. Then you noticed the smell. Not blood, not rot. Something older. Like wet stone, ink, and candlewax. You didn’t like it.

You circled the altar, blade ready. No markings. No fresh dirt. You crouched low, ran your fingers over the moss. It peeled away too easily, exposing dark, almost black stone beneath. Carved deep into it were grooves, wide and curved. Not symbols, not words. Just patterns. You traced one with your glove, and the stone pulsed. Once. Faint, but there. You shot up and backed away.

Behind you, something moved.

You turned fast, blade raised. Nothing. Just trees and fog. But you could feel it. The air changed. Not a wind, not a shift in temperature. You were being watched.

You didn’t call out. That was something rookies did, trying to flush out what they couldn’t see. You just waited, still as you could, eyes narrowing. The thing out there was good. Too good. Even now, you couldn’t hear it. But it was there. You could feel it.

Something brushed your coat.

You spun, slashing low, and hit nothing. Just empty air. But it had been close enough to touch. Close enough to want you to know. That pissed you off more than it scared you.

“Coward.” You muttered.

The fog shifted in response, just slightly. Like it had exhaled.

You didn’t like games. You were here to kill, not play tag with whatever ancient thing thought it could dance around you. You lit the edge of your flint ring and dipped a blade in oil. The flame caught slow, hissing to life, casting shaky light across the mossy stone and damp trees.

“You can run,” you said under your breath, “But eventually you burn.”

A low sound echoed through the trees. Not quite laughter. Not close enough to place. But it vibrated against your chest, deep and strange. You turned again. Still nothing. No eyes, no shape, no movement. Just that presence. And it was watching you like it knew something you didn’t.

Fine. Let it watch. You moved back the way you came, fast and quiet, keeping to the edges of the trees, fire flickering low in your palm. If it wanted to dance, you’d lead.

You made it fifteen steps before something dropped behind you.

You didn’t freeze. You lunged forward and whipped around, blade raised, eyes sharp. The spot behind you was empty. No footprints. No broken branches. Just that damn silence.

You took a breath, slow and careful. The flame on your blade guttered. The forest had never felt so alive.

You backed up a few more paces, then turned and sprinted. You didn’t run from fights, but this wasn’t a fight. This was something else. Something that didn’t follow rules. You needed higher ground. A better vantage. Maybe something you could trap. The thing in these woods wasn’t just old. It was clever. It didn’t kill you when it had the chance. It touched your coat. It circled. It waited. That meant it was hunting too.

You didn’t breathe as the silence held you, your fingers curled tight around the hilt of your blade, flame still hissing along its edge, casting harsh gold light against the bark and the blood-soaked dirt, and even then it felt useless, like lighting a match in the belly of a beast and hoping it’d blink, because whatever was watching hadn’t flinched, hadn’t moved, just remained still in a way that made your spine twitch and your instincts scream that you were being dissected slowly, curiosity before cruelty, hunger held back by something worse. Patience.

That that meant it wasn’t just playing anymore, it was studying, learning the rhythm of your steps, your breath, your temper, and when you blinked.

He was there, not rising from the dirt or dropping from a branch or stepping through mist, just standing, like he’d been carved out of the tree line itself, long black coat brushing the earth, dark hair tied back in a loose knot that made him look almost scholarly if not for the way his eyes caught the flame and glowed faint, gold and hollow, like they didn’t reflect light so much as swallowed it.

You raised your blade without thinking, stance shifting low, calculated, practiced, but he didn’t move, didn’t lunge or vanish, just tilted his head like you were interesting, like this moment was something he’d seen a hundred times before and still couldn’t quite get tired of, and when he finally spoke, it wasn’t what you expected, no hissing threat, no warning, just a smooth, amused, “You’re early.”

And it hit you like ice down your back, not because of what he said but because his voice was soft, human even, the kind of cadence you’d hear in a dusty lecture hall or behind a bar after midnight, and for a second you thought maybe you were wrong.

Maybe this wasn’t the target, maybe he was just some idiot who got too close to the woods, but then he stepped forward and you felt it again, that pressure, that ancient thing in your gut tightening like a knot being pulled, and you knew, you knew without a doubt that this was him.

The thing people whispered about without names, the vampire who left corpses drained so clean not even the scent lingered, and still you didn’t strike, not because you couldn’t, but because he didn’t let you, because every inch of your body screamed that the second you moved, he’d have you, not with fangs or claws or brute strength, but with the sheer weight of whatever was behind those eyes, and that was worse, because you didn’t fear blood or death.

You feared losing control, and this thing radiated control like heat, steady and terrifying, so you did the only thing you could—you smiled, sharp and tired and unfazed, and said. “Didn’t realise I needed an appointment.”

His lips curled like he was genuinely entertained, like he liked that answer, which made you hate him more, made you want to see his throat split open on the forest floor, but he just watched you, hands loose at his sides, like he didn’t need them.

You circled him slowly, keeping space between you, never letting him too close even when he stepped just slightly in your direction, enough to test, to prod, to see how you moved when cornered, and you didn’t give him the satisfaction, you just matched his steps, fire low in your palm, oil catching faint sparks in the mist as he murmured, “You smell like salt and ash,” like it was a compliment.

You said nothing, didn’t let your face move, because if he was trying to bait you, he’d have to work harder, and you’d hunted enough of his kind to know silence could be sharper than blades, but still he didn’t falter, didn’t tense, just kept studying you with those pale gold eyes like you were a riddle he half-remembered from centuries ago, one he thought he’d already solved but didn’t mind working through again.

You hated how still he was, how unbothered, like nothing you did could shake him, so you took the risk and lunged, fast and low, blade aimed at his ribs, but he moved like wind, like smoke, one step to the side and your weapon hit nothing but air, and before you could pivot, he was already behind you, not touching, not pressing, just close enough for you to feel the weight of him, and when he said.

“Careful, hunter. You only get so many swings.”

You spun, furious, fire blazing along your blade as you slashed again, and again he dodged, effortless, like he’d danced this dance before and always won, and you didn’t stop, didn’t let him breathe, blade striking again and again in wide arcs, testing, pushing, forcing him to back up just slightly, until his back brushed a tree and for a heartbeat you thought maybe, just maybe, you’d clipped him.

But he smiled, actually smiled, and then was gone again, vanishing with a grace that made your stomach twist, reappearing several feet to your left with his coat untouched and his voice low as he said, “You’re good.”

It wasn’t condescension, it was genuine, which somehow made it worse, because you didn’t want respect from a bloodsucker, you wanted a reason to put his head in a sack and collect your coin, and you didn’t need his approval to do it, so you kept your blade raised.

“Keep talking, I’ll start charging you by the hour,” and that got a chuckle, short and dry, and then he stepped closer again, just one stride, but enough to make your fingers twitch, and he stopped, hands still loose, eyes locked on yours.

“You’re not from here,” and you didn’t respond, didn’t blink, because you weren’t going to confirm or deny anything for him, not while his fangs were still hidden and his intentions unclear, but it didn’t matter, because he already knew, said, “They always send outsiders. Locals know better. Or maybe they’ve just learned.”

That told you more than you wanted to know, made you realise he’d been here a long time, long enough to make the forest his, long enough that even the brave stopped entering, and the thought of that made your heart clench—not with fear, but anger, because you hated when monsters got comfortable, and this one was lounging in the roots like a king.

“You’ve been feeding.” You stated.

He nodded, slow, almost proud, and said, “Not on the living. Not lately. But they keep wandering close. I take what comes,” and it was too casual, too calm, like he wasn’t lying but didn’t care how it sounded, and you took another step forward, blade glinting.

“You planning on adding me to the pile?”

His smile faded just slightly, like you’d said something that tasted sour, and he said, “Not unless you want to be,” and that made your blood run hot, made your fingers twitch on the hilt because it wasn’t a threat, it was something worse—an offer, and you didn’t want to think about what that meant, what kind of creatures made room for choice before the bite, so you rolled your shoulders, adjusted your stance

“You should’ve run.”

He just stared at you, dark eyes sharp, unreadable, and replied, “You should’ve waited.”

Then, he moved again, not toward you, but sideways, disappearing into the trees without another word, just gone, not a sound, not a whisper, and you stood there alone in the flickering light, blade still burning, heart pounding, because for the first time in a very long while, you weren’t sure if you were the predator anymore.

You stood frozen, blade lit and heart thudding, your breath rising in short bursts through the cold air as the shadows swallowed him whole, and for a moment you thought he might be gone, truly gone, but then his voice came again, drifting from the trees, not loud, not close, just everywhere, threaded through the branches like mist. “You still think this is a hunt?

You spun toward the sound, already knowing it would do nothing, but you answered anyway, low and sharp, “No. I know it is,” and that made him laugh, not loudly, just a soft exhale, amused but not mocking.

“You came in with fire and fury. But now you’re listening. That’s rare.”

You gritted your teeth, replying, “Doesn’t mean I won’t put you down.”

There was a beat of silence, and then he said, “Good. I’d hate you to be boring,” and then suddenly he was standing a few feet away again, like he’d stepped out of the dark itself, leaning against a tree with his arms folded, face cast half in shadow, but his eyes gleamed, gold and calm, and he said, “You’re not like the others. You’re angry.”

You narrowed your eyes, stepping closer without even thinking, blade low and ready as you snapped, “I’ve lost people. You want the list?”

He shook his head, not mocking, not smug, just quiet as he replied, “No. I already know.”

You hesitated, your breath hitching, because something in his tone made you believe it, like he’d seen it all, felt it through your skin, and you whispered, “How?”

He looked at you for a long second before saying, “The way you fight. You don’t strike to survive. You strike to punish.”

That made your stomach twist, because it was true and you hated that he could see it so clearly, but you covered it with sarcasm, snapping, “You some kind of vampire therapist now?”

He shrugged with a faint smile, replying, “Only if the patient comes armed. That pulled a short, involuntary huff of air from your throat—half a laugh, half a scoff—and he stepped forward again, just once, slow and deliberate, voice quieter now as he asked, “What do they tell you about me?”

You didn’t answer at first, just let the question hang, let the silence wrap around you, and then finally said, “That you’re old. Powerful. A killer. A monster.”

His head tilted again, thoughtful, and he murmured, “They always forget the part where I used to be human. “

You kept your blade up, voice firm as you replied, “You’re not anymore.”

He didn’t argue, didn’t defend himself, just nodded slightly and said, “No. I’m not. But neither are you. Not fully,” and that made you blink, taken off guard, and you stepped forward again, blade inches from his chest.

“You don’t know me.” You hissed and his gaze didn’t flicker, didn’t waver, just held yours steady.

“I know grief. I know rage. I know what it does to people,” he replied, and then, gentler, “You’re standing in the dark with a burning sword, talking to the thing you swore to kill. That says enough.”

You hated how much that got under your skin, hated how right it felt, like he wasn’t trying to manipulate you, just pointing out the obvious, and you hissed, “I haven’t killed you yet.”

He smiled faintly, eyes glinting, and said, “But you haven’t left either.” You hated that too, hated that he was right, hated that your boots were still rooted to the dirt, that your blade was steady but unbloodied, that part of you, small and dangerous, wanted to keep hearing him talk.

So you snapped, “Say what you want, but I’m not staying. I’ll finish this. You won’t leave these woods alive.”

He didn’t flinch, didn’t snarl or bare fangs, just replied, “Maybe. But if you kill me, you’ll still walk out empty.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He gave you a look like he pitied you, not out of smugness, but because he knew something you didn’t. “You came here looking for peace. You thought revenge would taste like closure. It won’t.”

Your hand twitched on the hilt and you hissed, “You don’t know what I’ve seen.”

“Try me.” Something in his tone made you stop, made your throat go dry, because he wasn’t bluffing, he meant it, like he could carry it for you if you just said it aloud, and that made you furious, because you didn’t want to be seen, you wanted him dead.

“My sister was drained in her bed. My best friend tried to fight one of you and died choking on his own blood. I watched a child stumble out of the woods white as snow and blind because some bastard like you drank her almost dry.” Your voice cracked, and you hated that it cracked, hated that it gave him even an inch of your hurt.

But he didn’t react with smugness or sorrow, just said softly, “Then you’re right to hunt. But not all of us feed like animals,”

“You think that matters? You still kill. You still drink. You still hunt.” You spat.

He nodded, saying, “I do. But not like that. Not anymore.”

You laughed, bitter and cold, saying, “What, you’re reformed? Repenting in the woods?”

He stepped closer again, and this time you didn’t back up, you just stood your ground as he said, “I was like them. Worse, maybe. But time does things to monsters. Sometimes we remember who we used to be. Sometimes we don’t want the blood anymore.”

You shook your head, voice low and furious, “You expect me to believe you just got tired of killing?”

“No. I expect you not to care. But I’m still telling you,” and you stared at him, the way his eyes glowed faint and strange in the dark, the way he never once tried to strike you even when you gave him dozens of chances.

“What’s your name?”

He blinked, and said softly, “Geto Suguru.”

You repeated it, testing it, “Geto.”

He nodded, watching you carefully, and then asked, “Yours?”

You hesitated, then answered, “Does it matter?”

He gave a small smile, saying, “It does to me.”

You looked at him, really looked, and said it, slow and certain, and he repeated it once under his breath like he meant to remember it, and then the wind shifted and the fire in your blade flickered low.

“They’ll send more. After me. After you.”

“You worried?”

“No. I’m used to being hunted. But I’m not used to someone talking to me first.”

That made something strange settle in your chest, something that wasn’t pity or fear, just a flicker of understanding, and you sighed, exhausted, asking, “Why me?”

“Because you didn’t run.”

You pulled back a step, trying to close the space again, and said, “I should kill you.”

He nodded, replying, “You should.” You didn’t reply, because you didn’t know, not really, not when the fire was still hot in your hand and he was right there and you could, but you didn’t, and maybe that was the worst part, because he wasn’t tricking you, wasn’t charming you, he was just there, quiet and steady and real in a way you hadn’t expected from something like him.

So you just stared at him, heart twisting, blade flickering out slowly until only smoke curled from the hilt, and he said, "If you ever want answers, come back.”

You scoffed, voice raw, "To this cursed forest?"

"To me," and then he stepped back into the shadows, and you didn't follow, just stood there shaking with something you didn't have a name for, wondering if you'd just failed your missionor started something far more dangerous.

The woods were too quiet after he left. Not peaceful, just empty. You stood there for a long time, unable to move, the smoke curling from your extinguished blade like a warning you chose to ignore.

The cold sank into your bones, but you didn’t notice until your fingers started to ache. Still, you didn’t move. You replayed every word, every flicker of his eyes, every shift in his voice. Geto. The name echoed in your mind like it had been carved into you, and you hated that it already felt familiar.

You should’ve killed him. You should’ve driven your blade into his chest the second he stepped from the trees. You were trained for this. Born for this. But when you thought of that moment again, blade pressed against his chest. You cursed under your breath and turned on your heel, finally storming back the way you came, twigs snapping underfoot, heart still pounding even though the danger was long gone—or worse, not gone at all.

You didn’t speak of what happened when you returned. You gave them a version of the truth, one with jagged edges and cut corners. “He got away,” you said. “Slipped into the trees. Fast. Clever. Couldn’t keep up.”

They bought it. Mostly. One of the other hunters, Ryuu, the one with too many knives and a constant twitch in his jaw—narrowed his eyes and said, “You don’t miss.”

You just shrugged and replied, “Guess I did.” That was enough. For now. But they were watching you. You felt it. Especially when you asked for another patrol assignment two nights later.

“The same woods?” Ryuu asked, brows raised. “Thought he gave you the slip.”

You met his gaze and said, “That’s why I want another shot.”

He didn’t question it again.

So you returned. Alone. This time with less fire and more quiet. You didn’t light the blade. You didn’t announce yourself. You just stepped into the trees like someone who knew they were being watched, and sure enough, it didn’t take long.

“You came back,” came the voice from the dark, almost smug, but still soft around the edges.

You turned slowly, heart steady this time, and said, “Don’t sound so surprised.”

A figure stepped into view, not as sudden as before, not as shadowed. He looked the same, but there was something different in his posture, like he’d been waiting. “Most don’t,” Geto said. “They run. Or they don’t survive the first encounter.”

You crossed your arms, saying, “Maybe I’m not most.”

That earned you a smile, small but unmistakable. “No,” he said, “you’re not.”

You didn’t talk about what you were doing there, not right away. You just… stood. Close, but not too close. He didn’t approach. Neither did you. He leaned against a tree again like it was habit, hands loose at his sides, cloak shifting softly with the breeze.

“You look different,” he said. “More tired.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t know vampires were in the habit of giving fashion critiques.”

He smirked. “I meant your eyes.”

That stopped you. Your mouth opened, then closed again. “Maybe because I haven’t slept much.” You muttered.

“Or maybe because you’ve been thinking,” he said. “Thinking’s dangerous.”

You scoffed. “For you, maybe.”

“For both of us,” he corrected, and something in the way he said it made your stomach knot.

You shifted, letting your hand rest on your belt, not out of threat—just grounding. “Why didn’t you run last time?” You asked. “I could’ve killed you.”

He tilted his head. “Could you have?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t argue. He just said, “Then maybe I wanted to know why you didn’t.”

You glared at him. “Don’t twist this around. I came back to finish what I started.”

“Did you bring your blade?” He asked.

“It’s right here.”

“Is it burning?” Silence. He smiled faintly again, and added, “Didn’t think so.”

You wanted to hit him. Or maybe you wanted him to shut up. Or maybe, worse, you just wanted to hear more. So instead of lashing out, you said, “What are you even doing out here? Hiding? Waiting for someone more gullible?”

His gaze darkened a little, not angry, but like your words touched something old. “I left the others a long time ago,” he said. “They don’t come here. Not anymore.”

“Because they’re scared?” You asked.

“Because they know I won’t follow their rules.” He replied.

“And that makes you better?”

He looked at you, and there was no pride in his face when he said, “No. It makes me alone.” That word hit harder than it should’ve. Maybe because it felt familiar. Maybe because you’d felt the same standing outside tents full of laughter, always on the edge of something you could never step into.

You cleared your throat. “You still kill people?” You asked.

He didn’t lie. “Yes,” he said. “But not the way they do. I take what I need. I make sure they wake up.”

“That’s supposed to make it better?” you snapped.

He didn’t flinch. “It makes it less worse.”

You hated that he had a point. “Still sounds like feeding off the living to me.”

“It is,” he said. “But you’d be surprised how many would rather survive with a headache than die in an alley.”

“You pay them?” You asked.

“Sometimes,” he said. “Sometimes I offer protection. Information. Healing.”

“Healing.” You repeated, skeptical.

“You know we used to be priests, once,” he said quietly. “We weren’t always monsters.”

“And yet here we are.” You muttered.

“Here we are.” He agreed.

A long pause stretched between you. The woods breathed around you, full of tension and wind and leaves that whispered things you weren’t ready to hear. Finally, you asked, “So what do we do now?”

Geto shrugged. “You tell me. You came back.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you snapped. “Maybe I just want information. Names. Locations.”

“And you think I’ll give you those?”

“Maybe,” you said. “If I ask right.”

“If you threaten me?” He asked.

“If I talk.” You answered, firmer now.

He looked surprised for the first time. “You want to talk?”

You shrugged. “You said I wasn’t boring.”

His smile widened, slow and amused. “You’re not.”

You sat down before you could think too hard about it, perching on a large, flat stone and watching him carefully. “Talk.” You said.

“About what?” He asked.

“Tell me how you became what you are,” you said. “Tell me why you left them. Tell me why you haven’t killed me.” That last one was quieter.

He walked over, not too close, and crouched near a fallen log, hands clasped between his knees. “I was a teacher once,” he said. “Back when the world believed in holy things. I thought I was one of them. Pure. Righteous. I taught others how to fight monsters.” He looked at you, eyes sharp. “Ironic, right?”

You didn’t speak.

He continued. “I got bitten on a battlefield. One of my own students dragged me out before they could finish the job. I didn’t change right away. It took days. Weeks. I fought it. But eventually… I woke up hungry. Thirsty. And everything I’d believed about purity fell apart.” His voice didn’t waver. “So I left. Before I could hurt them.”

You swallowed hard. “And the others?”

“They found me,” he said. “The ones who’d already turned. They offered me control. Power. A place. I said no. They didn’t like that.”

“So you ran.”

“So I ran,” he agreed. “And I’ve been running ever since.”

You stared at him for a long time. “That’s your great origin story?” you asked. “Not very impressive.”

He grinned, sharp teeth on display. “It’s not meant to impress. You asked. I answered.”

“Why?” You whispered. “Why tell me any of this?”

“Because you’re still here,” he said. “And maybe… maybe I want someone to know. Just once. What I was. What I chose.”

You looked away. You hated him a little, for being honest. You hated yourself more for wanting to believe it. “If I told the others,” you said, “they’d come for you. In full force.”

“I know.” He said, softly.

“So why not kill me now?”

“Because,” he said, and then paused. When you looked at him again, his eyes were softer, almost sad. “Because I think you already have enough blood on your hands. And mine wouldn’t fix that.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t. Because for the first time in years, you weren’t sure what the right thing to do was. And worse—you weren’t sure if you wanted to do it.

You shifted your weight slightly, not out of fear but out of something else, something you didn’t want to name, something that made your fingers twitch around the hilt of your blade even though every part of you already knew you weren’t going to use it.

Geto stood still across from you, his hands still at his sides, making no move to defend himself, not even blinking as the wind stirred the edges of his coat and brushed strands of hair across his face. He looked more like a man than a monster and that was the problem.

Monsters were easier to kill. You could stab a monster, burn it, trap it in a circle and never think twice. But a man with a voice like that and eyes that held too many truths—that was harder.

You swallowed once, slowly, the tightness in your throat making it feel like you were choking on something sharp. “You can’t keep feeding,” you said finally, quieter now. “Not here. Not like this.”

“I haven’t,” he said, and you looked up sharply, watching his jaw tighten like he expected you not to believe him. “I haven’t taken a life since the last hunter came. And I didn’t want to kill him either.”

You stared at him, silent. “So you killed him.”

“I bled,” Geto said flatly. “He didn’t.”

That pulled your mouth into a thin line. You didn’t want to believe him, but nothing about his voice was flinching. “You want me to trust you?” You asked.

“No,” he said. “I want you to decide for yourself.”

You stared at him for another long moment. Then you stepped back, just one pace. “If you’re lying,” you said, “I’ll come back with more than fire.”

“If I’m lying,” he said softly, “I hope you do.”

You turned. You didn’t say goodbye, didn’t glance back. But you felt him watching, not with malice, not with victory. Just quietly. Like someone waiting for a decision that hadn’t been made yet.

The fog swallowed him up before the trees did. You walked until the forest lightened, until the air stopped feeling like it was pressing down on your spine, until the weight in your chest started to lift and you could breathe again without thinking of him. And still, you didn’t feel finished.

You didn’t go back that night. Your instincts told you to get some distance, to give yourself space. The scent of the forest clung to your skin, the faint smell of something ancient hanging in the air around you. That wasn’t the kind of thing that went away quickly. Not when it had settled deep under your skin.

But the next day, you couldn’t stop thinking about it. You hadn’t expected this. Not from him. And definitely not from yourself. What had you wanted him to say? That he was an evil thing, a monster in the woods, waiting for the next hunter to wander in? That would’ve been easier to handle. You knew what to do with monsters.

Instead, he had made it complicated. His voice echoed in your mind, his words still hanging in the air like an unanswered question.

You found yourself sharpening your blades again, though they had already been honed to perfection. You checked your vials, adjusted the straps of your pack, even when you didn’t really need to. It was something to do. Something to keep your mind occupied.

It took another two days before you found yourself heading back toward the forest. You told yourself it was because the job wasn’t finished. You hadn’t cleared the area. You hadn’t found the vampire that had been feeding off the locals. But the truth was, you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe you were looking for something else. Or someone else.

By the time you reached the edge of the woods, the sun had already begun to dip beneath the horizon, casting the trees in long, dark shadows. The familiar chill was there, the way the air seemed to grow still as if the forest was holding its breath. But this time, you didn’t feel the same sense of unease. Not quite.

You stepped into the forest cautiously, as if the trees themselves were watching you. It wasn’t the fog this time. No, the forest was strangely quiet, as though the world itself had grown still. You moved deeper, each step deliberate, each noise from the forest muted by the weight of the silence around you. You were listening. For something. For him.

And then you heard it. A soft rustle.

Not from the wind, not from the trees, this was deliberate. Someone moving.

You halted, body going still. It wasn’t a trick of the mind. It was real. And it was close.

You didn’t make a sound as you crouched behind the nearest tree, your hand already on the hilt of your blade. You held your breath. The forest seemed to be holding its breath too.

The rustling stopped.

Then came the voice. Low, but unmistakably familiar. “I didn’t think you’d come back so soon.”

Geto.

You clenched your jaw, frustration building, but you didn’t answer right away. You stayed hidden in the shadows, listening, watching. The tension in the air around you thickened. Every part of your being screamed to move, to make your presence known, but something kept you still. Something kept you from giving him the satisfaction.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again,” he continued, his tone casual, as if he wasn’t the one lurking in the woods, as if you weren’t both standing on the edge of something dangerous. “But here you are.”

You stayed silent, fingers tight around the blade in your hand. You didn’t trust your voice.

Another step, and then his figure appeared, emerging from the darkness like he belonged there. His eyes found yours almost immediately, even in the low light. He didn’t look surprised to see you. But there was something else there. Something unreadable.

“I told you I wouldn’t lie,” Geto said, his voice a smooth whisper. “But I also know you have questions.”

You stayed quiet. What did you want from him? What answers were you really looking for?

“I never wanted this,” Geto said, taking another step closer. “I didn’t want to be a monster.”

You didn’t move, didn’t speak. Something about his words hit too close to home. You knew what it was like to do things you didn’t want to do. To be someone you didn’t want to be. But the difference was, you could stop. You could walk away.

“Why?” You asked, finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “Why do you keep hunting, if you don’t want to?”

Geto’s lips curled slightly, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something else. “Because I’m good at it. I’m very good at it.”

You couldn’t deny that.

“And what happens if I decide to kill you now?” You finally met his gaze, the question sharp, like a challenge.

Geto didn’t flinch. “You’ll do what you have to do.”

The tension between you both thickened, pressing in on all sides. You wanted to do something. Move. Strike. But you couldn’t. Something held you in place.

Finally, Geto took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “You’re not here to kill me, though.”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

“I think you came back because you wanted to know what happens next.”

You swallowed hard. “I’m not here for answers.”

“No?” He smiled softly, taking yet another step closer. “Then what are you here for?”

Your heart hammered in your chest, but your voice remained steady. “To finish what I started.”

For the first time since you’d met him, Geto’s smile didn’t feel quite so threatening. But you didn’t let yourself fall for it. You didn’t let yourself fall for him.

But still, there was something there, something you couldn’t explain. Something that made the air between you feel electric.

“I’ll let you finish, then.” Geto said, his voice dropping lower, a quiet challenge in his tone.

The forest was still. The world was waiting.

You stood your ground, unsure of everything but one thing: you weren’t going to leave this place the same way you came. And you weren’t going to kill him. Not yet.

You didn’t answer. The air between you both was heavy, the silence sharp as a blade, and it felt like the very forest was holding its breath. You stood there, barely a foot apart, your fingers still wrapped tightly around the hilt of your blade, though you had no intention of using it. Not now, not with him standing so close, his presence like a pull you couldn’t quite ignore.

You could feel the weight of his eyes on you, the way they lingered as though he was waiting for you to make the first move, waiting for you to decide what you were going to do with this moment, with him.

His lips parted as if he was going to speak, but instead, his gaze shifted to the ground, and then back to you, the momentary pause as fleeting as it was telling. There was something about him that made you want to look away, something about the calmness in his eyes that made the anger inside you simmer.

You weren’t supposed to feel this. You weren’t supposed to hesitate. But the longer you stood there, the more you wondered: Why hadn't you already killed him? Why were you still standing here, in this place, facing the man you were supposed to end?

“Why haven’t you killed me?” He asked, his voice a little quieter now, like he was asking the question more for himself than for you.

You tilted your head slightly. His question was unexpected, almost like a confession, a curiosity that sat on his tongue, unspoken until now. “Why do you think?” You responded, your voice steady, but you could feel the strain beneath it, the tension that threaded through every word.

He leaned a little closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Because,” he said softly, his voice low and almost intimate, “Maybe you don’t want to. Not really.”

The air shifted, and for the first time, you felt the heat of his words settle somewhere deeper than your anger. His proximity had you instinctively tightening your grip on your blade, the cool steel cold against your palm. You took a step back, not because you were afraid of him, but because his presence was beginning to feel suffocating in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

“I’m not like you,” you said, the words tumbling out before you could think them through. “I don’t get caught in the mess of it all.”

“No,” Geto said, almost too quickly, like he was waiting for you to say it. “You don’t. But that’s what makes you dangerous, isn’t it?”

You flinched at that. Dangerous? The words were like a slap, but not one that left a mark. He was right. You were dangerous, because unlike him, you didn’t care about the mess of it. You didn’t care about the collateral damage. You killed because it was your job. And it wasn’t just your job. It was your life.

But here, in the depths of the forest, standing face to face with Geto, it didn’t feel like a job.

“Is that what you think?” You asked, the words harsher than you intended.

“I think…” He leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering to a dangerous whisper, “You’re more like me than you think.”

Something in your chest tightened at that. You didn’t want to be like him. You didn’t want to find a part of yourself in him, to understand his choices, his silence, his presence. You didn’t want to feel the pull of it, the strange magnetic force that had drawn you back here again, despite all the reasons not to.

You stepped back again, but this time, he didn’t follow. Not immediately. He just watched you, the calmness in his expression a stark contrast to the storm swirling inside you. You could feel the weight of the silence pressing down on you, the space between you both suddenly seeming too large, too empty.

“What do you want from me, Geto?” You asked, the words more vulnerable than you’d intended. You hadn’t meant to ask it like that. You hadn’t meant to let your guard down, but it was too late. The question was out, hanging in the air between you like a challenge.

Geto didn’t answer right away. He simply stood there, his eyes studying you with an intensity that made the air seem thicker.

“You know,” he said finally, breaking the silence with the same soft voice, “That’s the thing about us. We’re both caught in the middle of something we can’t escape from. You know it, I know it.”

“Caught?” You let out a bitter laugh, though it held no humor. “What, you think I’m just stuck in some endless game? Some struggle between good and bad, light and dark?”

“No,” Geto said, his voice growing softer. “I think you’re stuck between what you want and what you have to do.”

For a moment, you said nothing. The words echoed in your mind, each one settling a little deeper. He wasn’t wrong. He wasn’t wrong at all. You weren’t just a killer. You were someone who had learned to live by the rules, by the lines you drew in the sand. But now… now the lines were blurring, and you weren’t sure how to stop it.

“You’re not like the others,” Geto said quietly, almost as if he were speaking to himself. “You could have killed me that night. And you didn’t. You could walk away right now. But you won’t.”

“Stop.” You whispered, your voice trembling slightly, though you hated it.

Geto didn’t stop. His expression didn’t change, but his gaze softened just enough to make your stomach twist. “You’re just as caught as I am. But I think,” he continued slowly, “I think you’re scared to admit it.”

Scared.

The word lingered, making the blood in your veins run cold. It wasn’t fear you felt. Not exactly. You had faced more than your share of dangers in your life, and none of it had made you feel fear. But this? This was different. This was new. And you couldn’t outrun it.

“You’re wrong.” You said, but even as the words left your mouth, you could hear the lie in them.

“Uh-uh,” Geto replied, his voice oddly gentle, like he was trying to soothe the very thing he had just exposed. “I think you’re exactly right. And I think it scares you just as much as it scares me.”

Your hand clenched tighter around your blade, but this time it was more of a reflex than a readiness to fight. “I’m not like you,” you repeated, though the words were weaker this time.

“No…” Geto agreed, taking a small step toward you. “You’re not. But maybe that’s the problem, isn’t it? You don’t know how to deal with it. So you want to push it all away. Push me away.”

It was too much. Too much for one moment. You wanted to scream, to lash out, but all you could do was stand there, feeling the weight of his words, the weight of the truth, pressing down on you like a stone in your chest.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t move. And for a long, painful moment, you didn’t even know what to feel.

Geto’s voice broke through the silence again, soft but insistent. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

You didn’t answer. But you didn’t need to.

Because, for the first time since you’d met him, you didn’t feel like you had to.

The silence stretched out, a quiet weight that pressed on you from all sides. For a moment, you weren’t sure where you were, or even who you were. The forest had lost its sharpness, the world outside of you and Geto blurring into the background like a faded memory. All that existed in this moment was the steady beat of your heart, the slow breath escaping your lips, and the strange pull between you both that refused to break.

“You should go.” You said finally, your voice barely a whisper.

Geto didn’t move at first. He didn’t try to argue or push back. He just stared at you for a long, drawn-out moment. And then, without a word, he took a step back, the distance between you growing once more.

Geto sighed. He turned to leave, his silhouette disappearing into the trees, you stood there, your breath shaky, your heart pounding. You didn’t know if you were relieved or terrified. But one thing was certain: the choice had already been made. And neither of you could escape it now.

You stood frozen in place, the words lingering in the air long after Geto had vanished from sight. The forest around you seemed to close in, its shadows deeper, its silence louder, as if the world itself was holding its breath. You could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on your chest, every part of you caught between wanting to run, to flee from the tension, and wanting to chase after him, to follow the strange, unspoken connection you both shared.

But you didn’t move.

You couldn’t.

You wanted to be angry at him, to shout at him for not letting you go, for making things so complicated when all you wanted was clarity. But there was a part of you that felt almost… relieved. Relieved that he hadn’t tried to push you into something you weren’t ready for. Relieved that, despite the strange pull between you two, he hadn’t tried to force his way into your decisions.

Instead, you turned your back to the forest and made your way back towards the clearing, the weight of the confrontation still heavy on your shoulders. You weren’t sure where to go next, or what to do with the flood of thoughts rushing through your mind. All you knew was that whatever had just happened, it had changed things. Whether you were ready or not, you couldn’t ignore it.

The return to the camp was almost mindless. Your movements were automatic, your thoughts still consumed by the brief encounter. You didn’t pay much attention to the others, even as they greeted you. Their voices seemed muffled, like they were coming from far away, and you were only half-present, still trapped in the moment you’d just walked away from. You were thankful for that. For the small mercy of not having to explain, not having to explain yourself to anyone just yet.

When you finally sat down by the fire, the warmth did little to calm the chill in your bones. There was a knot in your stomach, a twist of nerves you couldn’t shake, and despite the quiet around you, you couldn’t stop replaying the words that had been exchanged. Maybe, but I don’t think I will. You couldn’t make sense of it, not yet. What had it meant? Why had he said that?

And now, sitting alone by the fire, you were left with the impossible task of sorting through everything you’d felt and what it all meant. It would have been easier if it was just hate, or just anger, or even just fear. But there was more. So much more.

The sound of footsteps behind you made you jump. You turned quickly, startled, but it was only one of the others—a member of your group, someone who had probably come to check on you after the strange disappearance into the woods.

“Everything okay?” They asked, a little too casually.

You nodded, forcing a smile. “Yeah. Just needed some space.”

“Alright.” They hesitated, looking over their shoulder. “You’ve been a little quiet since you came back. You sure you’re alright?”

You weren’t sure what to say. You weren’t sure if you even knew the answer to that question yourself. “I’m fine,” you said, the words sounding hollow in the quiet air.

They gave you a long look, but ultimately, they nodded and left you alone. You couldn’t really blame them. You weren’t sure what they’d wanted from you anyway. What could anyone expect you to say after everything that had happened? What could you say to make sense of it all?

The night dragged on. You couldn’t sleep, no matter how tired you felt. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw Geto’s face. The way he looked at you before he turned and walked away. That strange sadness in his eyes. That quiet acceptance. You couldn’t make sense of it, but it gnawed at you, digging its way into your thoughts with each passing hour.

The morning came too quickly. You woke to the sound of voices and the bustle of camp life, but it didn’t make you feel better. It didn’t make the knot in your stomach go away. You forced yourself out of bed, moving automatically, but you couldn’t shake the way your heart raced when you thought about Geto.

You tried to focus on the tasks in front of you, but the day stretched out endlessly. Everything felt too slow, too loud, as if you were walking through a fog. You went through the motions. You answered when spoken to. You did your part. But you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

At some point, in the middle of the day, you found yourself walking along the edge of the forest, your footsteps soft against the earth. It was a strange thing to do. You hadn’t even realized you were heading that way until you were already too far in. The trees felt almost familiar, but the quiet wasn’t as comforting as it should’ve been.

You stopped when you saw him.

Geto was leaning against one of the trees, his arms crossed casually over his chest. He didn’t even seem surprised to see you. He just… waited. He was waiting for you, as if he knew you’d show up.

“You,” you said, your voice rougher than you’d intended, “have a habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I could say the same about you.”

You didn’t reply right away. Instead, you just stood there, looking at him. The tension between you felt different now—sharper, maybe, but not in a way that made you want to push him away. It was something else entirely. It was the knowledge that something was building, something neither of you could control.

“I thought you’d be gone by now,” you said, your voice quieter this time, almost like you didn’t want to admit it.

“I told you I wasn’t leaving,” he said, still watching you closely.

You sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. “You’re really not going to make this easy, are you?”

“No,” he said simply, his tone surprisingly serious. “I’m not.”

And then, for the briefest of moments, there was no space between you two. No walls. Just that strange, unspoken understanding.

You weren’t sure what would happen next, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him.

You didn’t say anything for a long moment, just watching him in silence. The way he stood there, so assured, so composed, was maddening. It was like he knew exactly what was going on in your head, even if you didn’t.

He stepped even closer, until there was barely any space between you now. You could feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath, and for a split second, it felt like you might be caught in something far bigger than either of you had planned.

Without thinking, you reached out, your hand brushing against his sleeve. The contact was brief, just a fleeting moment, but it sent a shock through you. You pulled your hand back quickly, as if it had burned you, but Geto didn’t pull away. His eyes didn’t leave you, but for the first time since you’d met him, he seemed… uncertain.

“Why do you do this to me?” you asked, your voice shaky now, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t a challenge anymore. It was a question. An honest one.

Geto’s gaze softened even more, the distance between you two shrinking even further. “Because,” he said, his voice quiet, his gaze never leaving yours, “I think you need to understand something.”

You frowned, confused, but you didn’t interrupt.

He leaned in just slightly, his breath warm against your skin, and for a moment, you thought he might kiss you. But he didn’t. Instead, he murmured, “I’m not here to make things easy for you. I’m here because, whether you like it or not, I’m part of this. And I always will be.”

You stared at him, searching his face, trying to make sense of it. But all you found was that same strange certainty in his eyes. The same pull that had drawn you in the moment you’d first met him.

He reached out, his hand brushing against your cheek, the contact gentle, almost reverent.

You were frozen in place. His touch sent a wave of warmth through you, making your skin tingle where his fingers grazed you. And for the first time, the tension between you two felt… different. Not suffocating. Not challenging. Just… quiet. But still intense, still undeniable.

You didn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

The warmth of Geto’s touch lingered on your skin, a subtle reminder of how close you had gotten. For a moment, everything around you seemed to fade into the background—the rustling trees, the quiet hum of the night, the ever-present tension that had been there between you two. Instead, it was just you and him, standing there, the space between you inexplicably charged.

You didn’t pull away, despite the odd flutter of nerves that twisted in your stomach. His touch, the way his fingers barely brushed against your arm, was something you could hardly comprehend. He was still a vampire. He was still dangerous. But in this moment, it didn’t matter.

Before you could respond, there was a sharp sound. Something cracking. The air shifted, and the peaceful moment was shattered by the unmistakable scent of blood on the wind. You stiffened, your hand instinctively reaching for the weapon at your side, fingers brushing against its cold, reassuring surface.

Geto’s eyes flashed with something darker, his posture suddenly more rigid, alert. “Stay close,” he warned, his voice low.

You didn’t need to ask what was coming. You knew. You had felt the shift before—this was no coincidence. Someone was here, and they weren’t friendly.

You barely had time to react as figures emerged from the shadows. They weren’t human, not by any means. Their pale skin almost glowed under the moonlight, their eyes burning with hunger. The first one stepped forward, a man dressed in dark, finely tailored clothes that seemed out of place in the forest. His dark hair was slicked back, a sharp, angular face that could’ve belonged to any of Geto’s enemies, but not his friends.

"You shouldn’t have come here," Geto said, his tone sharp and cold now.

The man tilted his head, his lips curving into a smile that looked far too predatory to be anything but dangerous. "And you shouldn't have run," he replied smoothly. "But here we are." His eyes flicked over to you, taking in your form with a gaze that was as cold as it was calculating. “And who’s this?” His voice was dripping with curiosity.

“None of your concern,” Geto snapped, stepping in front of you.

The man chuckled darkly, almost as if this was some kind of sick game. “Oh, but she is, isn’t she?” His eyes shifted back to you, and you could feel the malice behind his gaze. “A little human, all alone in the woods with a vampire. How quaint. You’re in danger, little one. You’re always in danger.” He took a slow step forward, but Geto was there in an instant, blocking the path.

“Leave her out of this, Daiki,” Geto growled.

But the man, Daiki, only smirked, his sharp teeth glistening in the low light. “I don’t think I will. You’ve been avoiding us for far too long, Geto. And now it’s time for you to answer for that.” The vampire’s eyes flicked to your face again, his smile widening. “You’re the one he’s protecting?” He asked, as though testing the words on his tongue. “I wonder what makes you so special.”

You could feel the growing weight of their gaze, the way they were sizing you up as if you were a mere pawn in their twisted game. Your breath quickened. They were dangerous. They weren’t like Geto. They were predators—bloodthirsty and manipulative.

The silence between you all stretched, and you could feel the tension rising, suffocating. Another figure appeared behind Daiki, this one taller, his eyes colder, more distant. His presence felt heavier, like an impending storm.

“I see you’ve already made new friends, Geto.” The second vampire said, his voice smooth, but it had an unsettling edge. “And I see you’ve forgotten your place. We don’t tolerate defection. Not from someone like you.”

The first thing that struck you was the way he spoke. It wasn’t just disdain, it was cold, calculating. Like he had no respect for Geto whatsoever. It was clear these vampires weren’t here to negotiate.

The second vampire turned his eyes on you as well, a glint of interest there. “And another human. How convenient. I would say it’s adorable that you think you can protect her, but you and I both know it’s far from that.”

You tensed, the weight of their eyes pressing down on you. But Geto didn’t back down, standing firm as ever.

“We’ll see about that.” Geto said, his voice deadly low.

There was a pause, and then the third figure stepped out from the trees—a woman, pale and elegant, her sharp features almost too perfect to be real. Hair, white as snow, braided into a crown. Her eyes glimmered with bloodlust, and her smile was full of malice.

“Such an interesting little party you’ve got here, Geto,” she purred, her voice soft but lethal. “But let’s be honest, we both know you’re just delaying the inevitable.” Her gaze flicked to you. “And you,” she said, her voice like ice, “you’re nothing but a distraction. But that can be fixed.”

Your heart raced. You didn’t know who these vampires were, at least not entirely. But you could feel the danger in the air. They weren’t here to make peace. They were here to destroy.

“I’m not going to let you hurt her,” Geto said, his tone unwavering. His eyes burned with fury as he stepped closer to you, blocking your view of them.

“Oh, but you will,” Daiki sneered. “We’ll make sure of that.”

The woman, whose name you didn’t know, stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with something darker. “We could always turn her,” she said casually, as if it was nothing but an afterthought. “Then she’ll be ours, too. Isn’t that right, Geto? You’ll have to watch her become something you can’t protect.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. You knew what she meant. She wasn’t just talking about turning you into a vampire—she was talking about breaking you. Turning you into one of them. Making you lose everything that made you human.

“No,” Geto said sharply, his voice cold with warning.

But they were pressing. They were moving in. You could feel the sharp hunger in their eyes, the way they circled around you like wolves ready to pounce. They weren’t after Geto—they were after you.

“Don’t worry,” Daiki said, his smile stretching. “This will be over soon. You won’t even know it happened.”

Geto stepped forward, but there was no hesitation in his movement now. His power surged, and you could feel the air around you crackle with the intensity of it. But they weren’t backing down. Not yet.

“Run,” Geto said under his breath, his voice barely audible. “Get out of here. I’ll hold them off.”

You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t think. You just ran.

The crack of a whip, the hiss of vampires' movements, and Geto's voice shouting after you all blurred into one. You had to get away. You had to survive.

You didn’t look back. The sound of your heart pounding in your ears was louder than the rustling leaves or the vampires’ movements behind you. You ran as fast as you could, your breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps, but even in your panic, you couldn’t stop the sarcastic part of your brain from kicking in.

You could feel the vampires’ presence behind you, like shadows creeping closer with every step. The ground beneath you seemed to shift, the terrain uneven, but the adrenaline kept you moving forward. You didn’t dare look behind you. You couldn’t afford to. And you definitely didn’t want to see if they were still just watching, or if they were already on your tail.

You knew they were getting closer. You could feel it in the air—their eyes on you, the weight of their hunger pressing down from every direction. They were playing with you, letting you run a little before they closed in for the kill. Typical. Vampires were always so smug, so damn cocky.

Your hand instinctively reached for the weapon at your side.

A voice rang out behind you, smooth and taunting. “You’re quick, aren’t you? But you’re only human. You’ll tire, and when you do…”

It was Daiki. His voice sounded like honey, too sweet for comfort, but it was the underlying malice that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. You didn’t dare stop running, but you were starting to think that maybe, just maybe, running wasn’t going to be enough this time.

But you had something they didn’t—your sharp tongue.

“Are you going to keep talking, or are you going to catch me?” You yelled back, adrenaline giving you the courage to keep your voice steady. You didn’t have time to be scared, not yet.

“I’ll catch you eventually, little one,” came Daiki’s voice, just as smug as ever. You could hear the grin in it, feel the hunger laced into his words. “I do hope you’re more interesting than the last human we found. They always run, and then they’re so boring when they give up.”

That was when you realized what they were after. They weren’t just here to kill you—they wanted to feed on you. They wanted to savor it. Your blood. Your fear. Your last moments. It was a game to them.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll make it entertaining,” you muttered, not for the first time wishing you’d spent more time working on your escape routes than your snappy comebacks. “But what else are you good for, right?” You grinned to yourself, even though you knew it might be your last.

Suddenly, Daiki appeared in your path, like he had just stepped out of the shadows. His grin was wide, predatory, his eyes glinting with an almost playful hunger. “You think you can outrun me? You’re amusing.”

Without thinking, you swerved to the side, narrowly avoiding him. You pushed yourself harder, but you could feel the exhaustion starting to weigh on your limbs. You had no idea how long you could keep this up, and you were sure the vampires knew it too. They were playing with you, like a cat with a mouse, letting you think you had a chance before they pounced.

“You can’t keep running forever, human!” Daiki’s voice called from behind you.

You didn’t look back. You didn’t need to. You could feel them—three, maybe four, slipping between the trees like smoke, moving in silence but not stealth. They wanted you to hear them. They wanted the scrape of their boots on bark and the click of their teeth just audible enough to make you look. So you didn’t.

You just ran. Not out of fear, not exactly, but because there was no logical argument for standing still when predators were toying with you. Your breath burned but not enough to slow you. Your legs ached but not enough to fail you. The sarcasm that usually buffered your nerves had dried to something cooler, duller, useless here. Nothing clever would save you now. They weren’t the kind to be distracted by wit or charmed by personality. They were vampires, and you were alive. That was the only dynamic that mattered.

The air thinned. Cold bit into your skin as the forest thickened, branches scraping your arms as if trying to slow you down themselves. You’d seen Daiki’s face for all of three seconds—smiling, beautiful, and full of rot. That kind of hunger didn’t negotiate. It prolonged.

He’d called you amusing. You’d call him predictable, but there wasn’t time to say it out loud. Not when you could feel the weight of them behind you, not when you could almost hear their jaws unclenching.

You slipped once, knees digging into the dirt, a branch snapping under your hand as you righted yourself. Somewhere behind you, one of them laughed—a short, dry sound, like the punchline of a joke you weren’t supposed to get.

You moved faster after that. Smarter. Not just forward, but winding, ducking behind trees, changing elevation. It didn’t matter. They were faster. Hungrier. And it was only a matter of time before they decided to get serious.

You were halfway through a thought—something bitter about the cruelty of dying in the exact woods you’d almost started to trust, when a hand grabbed you.

Not from behind. Not from the side. You shouted, twisted, instinct flaring—but the grip didn’t tighten. It didn’t drag you down. It lifted.

One blur and you were airborne, pulled violently through the air, chest slamming into a solid figure just long enough for the breath to be knocked out of you. And then movement. Trees bending backward. Leaves slicing past your cheeks. The rhythm of impossible speed and a body carrying you like you were weightless.

You barely registered it was Geto until you were on the ground again.

Not hard. Not soft. Stone beneath your back. Cold. Hidden. A hollow between rock and root where the light couldn’t find you. He’d taken you underground, or close enough. You blinked against the dark, confused, heartbeat skittering against the inside of your ribs like it wanted out.

“Geto—.” You started, your voice ragged, your mind trying to catch up to what had just happened.

But he didn’t say anything. He didn’t even look like himself. Not angry. Not smug. Just focused. Distant in that way that meant he’d already made up his mind.

You reached for your blade, but your hand didn’t quite get there.

He was already moving.

The weight of him pressed against you—not crushing, not even rough, but final. His hand braced your jaw gently, tilting your head, and for one breathless second, you thought maybe he was going to tell you something. Explain. Warn you. Anything.

He didn’t.

There was no sound. No warning. Just the shock of pain.

Sharp. Piercing. Not like a knife, but like something older, more primal—teeth breaking skin, digging deep, drawing heat from the source.

You froze.

It didn’t feel real at first. Just wrong. The sensation flooded your neck and shoulder, searing like a current, your body stiffening with the overload of it. Your limbs kicked, uselessly. Your fingers clawed at his coat, your voice catching in your throat before you could scream. But there was no space for noise.

Only heat. Only pressure. Only the draining ache of something being pulled from you that you didn’t have a name for.

Pain, hot and searing and unlike anything you had ever felt, lit up every nerve in your body like wildfire tearing through dry grass, and for a long, stunned moment, you didn’t understand what had happened—you couldn’t, because it was impossible to think, impossible to breathe, impossible to do anything but feel it, the puncture, the pull, the agony that spread outward like ripples on the surface of still water disturbed by a stone dropped with brutal intention.

The forest around you became a distant blur, reduced to colours and shadows, movement and sound dimming under the overwhelming roar of blood rushing in your ears, and even Geto’s form, so close and crushing, was reduced to pressure and warmth and a voice you barely heard over the ringing behind your eyes, the soft sound of his breath hissing through his teeth as he held you like he was trying to stop you from breaking apart, except he was the one doing the breaking, and you knew it.

Somewhere in the haze that this wasn’t mercy or cruelty or love, it was desperation, the kind that hollowed a man out and filled him with fire, and maybe he hadn’t meant to but he had done it anyway, bitten down with fangs you hadn’t known he would ever use on you, teeth piercing skin and sinking in like they were always meant to, and you’d never imagined it would hurt so much, or that it would feel so intimate.

Like your soul was being peeled back and examined and taken, bit by bit, the pain folding in on itself until it stopped being pain and started being something else, something deeper, more primal, like being rewritten from the inside out, every cell screaming and curling inwards under the weight of change, like your body was rejecting itself and rebuilding at once, and through it all, through the sharpness and the sting and the unbearable heat.

There was his voice, low and broken and saying something you couldn’t understand, not with your mind unmoored and your muscles locking and your throat choking on the scream that never quite made it out, and you wanted to ask him why—why he did it, why he didn’t warn you, why he had to ruin what little was left of you—but you couldn’t speak, couldn’t even think straight, not when the pain twisted into something electric and cold and hot all at once, like being plunged into ice water and dragged through flame.

Then the world started to slip, the colours bleeding into each other, the trees turning into shapes and the sky pressing down, heavy and uncaring, and you tried to hold on, to anchor yourself to something, but the only thing there was him, his hands gripping your shoulders too tightly, his breath ragged against your ear, and the faint, terrible whisper of your name like it was the last thing tethering him to his own humanity—and yours, too, maybe—but you were slipping, drowning, and you didn’t know how to stop it, didn’t know if you wanted to, because whatever this was, it was better than being caught by those monsters, better than being dragged out and torn apart like some sacrificial animal.

Geto had always been a monster too, hadn’t he?

You had just never seen this side of him before, not like this, not with your blood on his lips and his arms keeping you upright as your legs gave out and your head lolled and your body turned to lead, and in the flickering moments before your vision finally gave up on you, you thought you saw guilt in his eyes, not hunger, not power, not satisfaction—but regret, plain and deep and old, and it made you want to laugh even though you couldn’t breathe, because he always did that, didn’t he?

Made decisions for you, pulled the strings and waited to see if you noticed, except this time there was no going back, no clever remark that could unmake what had been done, and as the darkness swelled and bloomed at the edges of your vision, you let yourself fall into it, not because you trusted him, but because you were too tired to fight anymore, too tired to scream, and somewhere, before everything disappeared completely, you thought you heard him whisper sorry, not like a man apologising for a mistake, but like one mourning the thing he had just killed.

You awoke to stillness but not peace. The air was heavy, unmoving, thick with damp stone and the faint metallic scent of blood. Your blood. You knew it before your eyes even opened, before your hands had the strength to twitch. The pain from earlier had faded but not vanished, replaced instead with a dull throb that sat behind your ribs and in the hollow of your throat.

You opened your eyes slowly and at first, saw nothing, just the darkness that clung to the room like rot. Then, shapes began to form, faint outlines of stone walls and narrow windows, barely wide enough to let in a sliver of the moonlight that painted the floor silver. You were lying on something rough, old wool or a blanket left too long in the cold, and the taste in your mouth was copper sharp and dry.

You turned your head slightly and caught sight of him. Geto sat just beyond reach, back against the wall, one knee bent, arms resting loosely. He did not move when he noticed your gaze, only looked at you, that same unreadable expression carved into his features like stone. There was no smile, no apology yet, only silence.

You stared at him for a long moment, then blinked hard, the pieces in your mind beginning to shift into place. You remembered the trees, the shadows, the sound of footsteps behind you like wolves circling.

You remembered the fear, sharp and real and rising, the taunting voices, the claw of hunger from creatures that never had to breathe yet always hungered. And then him. The blur of black fabric and sudden movement, the way his arms closed around you like steel, how the forest had vanished in a rush of motion and heartbeat.

You remembered him murmuring something, but not the words, only the weight of his breath against your temple, and then the teeth. You touched your neck slowly and winced. The skin was torn, scabbed over, but still hot to the touch. Your throat felt raw, as though something had been taken and never returned.

You did not speak at once. He did not offer words. Only when your voice came, dry and sharp, did the stillness break. You said, quietly, “That was a fine rescue, if the plan was to kill me instead.”

Geto let out a soft breath, not quite a laugh. “If I had wanted you dead, you would be.”

You sat up, slowly, every muscle aching, and looked at him with narrowed eyes. “So what is this then. What have you done?”

He met your gaze, and his answer came without hesitation. “I turned you. To save you.”

Your breath caught, more from fury than shock. “You what?”

“You were not going to outrun them. Not all of them. Daiki would have torn you apart for the joy of it, and Tsutomu would have kept you alive just to make it last. You would not have made it to sunrise.”

“So you decided to do what, exactly. Rip out what was left of me before they could.” Your voice had sharpened but not broken. You were angry, furious, and somewhere beneath it, frightened, though you would rather die again than admit it aloud.

Geto stood then, finally, and took a step closer. He did not loom or threaten. “I did what I had to. There was no time to ask, no time to explain. You were going to die and you would not have died well.”

You looked away, jaw clenched, and tried to piece together the screaming inside your head. “And now what,” you said. “Now I’m like you. A monster. A parasite.”

“No,” he said, and there was something softer in that word, not pleading, not quite. “You are not like me. Not yet. You are what you choose to be. But you will live.”

“Live,” you echoed, bitter. “In what world is this living?”

“In the only one we have.”

You stood then, unsteady, but you did not show it. “So this is it. You’ve cursed me. You’ve made me into something I cannot undo.”

“I did what I could.” He said again, and this time, something in his voice cracked.

You turned away and pressed your hand against the wall to steady yourself. The room was cold and quiet except for your breathing and the slight creak of old wood shifting above. “Where are we?” You asked finally.

“An old monastery,” he said. “Abandoned. No one comes here anymore.”

“Convenient,” you muttered. “Is this where you bring all your victims.”

“You are not a victim.”

“No,” you said, turning toward him. “I am something worse now. I am your problem.”

He looked at you with something unreadable, then said, “You are not a problem. You are alive.”

“Barely,” you muttered, then crossed your arms, leaning back against the stone. “I feel strange. Hungry but not. Cold but burning.”

“That will pass,” he said. “Or it will become familiar.”

You looked at him long and hard, then said, “And what now. Do I serve you. Follow you. Bite villagers in the night and pretend it means something.”

His mouth twisted faintly. “You are free to go, if you wish. I will not stop you.”

“Oh,” you said dryly. “Very generous of you, after turning me into a creature feared in bedtime stories.”

“You would have died,” he said again, more firmly now. “You do not understand the kind of death they give. I have seen it. I have done it. I would not wish it on you.”

You didn’t reply. Your eyes dropped to the floor and the silence returned. You remembered his face as he bent over you, the look in his eyes that was not hunger but something colder, sharper. Duty. Maybe even sorrow. And now, as he stood before you, you could see the weight he carried, not in words but in the quiet tension of his shoulders, in the way he had not slept.

“You knew this would change everything.”

“I did. But I chose to act.”

“And if I hate you for it?”

“Then I will carry that too,” he said. The words hung between you, not heavy but real. You did not know what you were supposed to feel. Grief, rage, perhaps even gratitude. But what settled in your chest was something else entirely. A hollow space waiting to be filled.

“You said I am not like you yet,” you said. “What did you mean?”

“You have not fed,” he said. “You are not bound by it yet.”

You swallowed hard. “And when I do?”

“Then you will understand,” he said. “And you will choose what to become.”

“And what if I choose wrong?”

“Then you will not be the first,” he said. “But perhaps you will be the last.” That startled a faint, humourless laugh from you.

“Poetic,” you said. “That’s new.”

“Do not mistake me,” he said. “There is little poetry in what we are. But perhaps there is still meaning.”

You met his eyes again and this time, something had shifted. You did not forgive him. But you understood. You did not trust him. But you no longer feared him. Not completely. Your fingers still trembled, and your skin still ached, but you were upright. Breathing. Changed, yes, but not broken. “I need time.” You said at last.

“Take it.” He replied.

“And when I am ready,” you said slowly, “will you still be here?”

“Yes,” he said. “Even if you do not want me to be.”

You turned away and walked to the window, your hand resting on the stone. Outside, the night was endless, but the stars were visible now. You had always hated the cold, but the wind that drifted in now no longer bit as sharply as before.

You wondered if that too would change. Everything else had. Behind you, Geto said nothing more, only waited. You closed your eyes and breathed in the silence, and though your body no longer belonged to the life you once knew, your mind was still your own. For now. And in the morning, or the next, you would decide what to do with that.

The quiet stretched between you, the air growing heavier with every passing second, as if the weight of the night itself was pressing down on you. The stone beneath your fingers felt cold, but your body had already begun to change in ways you did not fully understand.

The lingering ache in your throat, the faint pulse of hunger at the back of your mind that had nothing to do with food, it was all new. Unwanted, but new. You couldn’t explain it. Couldn’t make sense of it. The way you had woken, the way your body had responded to his bite. It was unnatural, yet here you were, still alive, still breathing. Alive, but for how long? Would it be weeks, months, or longer still? You did not know. All you knew was that you had been thrust into a world where death was the end for most, but for those like him… it was merely the beginning.

You turned your gaze towards the moon, its pale light casting shadows across the stone floor. The wind from the outside was a cold comfort against the furnace of your thoughts. You felt a strange kind of stillness, as though time itself had slowed. The wind felt gentler now, no longer biting, no longer unbearable.

You drew in a deep breath, the first one that didn't feel like a chore. Still, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were teetering on the edge of something that could never be undone. Geto stood just behind you, silent and unmoving, as if watching over you. You didn’t dare to speak first. Your mind was too full, too full of questions and doubts you had no answers to.

You had never asked for any of this.

Your fingers brushed against the rough wood, and you let out a long breath, trying to steady yourself. You didn’t want to admit it, but the hunger gnawing at your insides was growing worse. You didn’t know what it was, but it felt like a deep, empty pit that no amount of food could fill. You had to feed, and you had to do it soon, or you might not last the night.

You felt his presence behind you before you heard him move. He was there, standing just within reach, close enough that you could feel the weight of his gaze on you. You didn’t look at him, didn’t turn your head. “You should feed.” He said, his voice soft, but there was something in it that made the words feel like an order, not a suggestion.

You clenched your fists at your sides, the ache in your chest growing sharper. “I know,” you replied, your voice tight. “But I don’t know how. I don’t know what to do.”

“I will show you,” he said, his voice steady, unyielding. “I will guide you through it. But you must trust me.”

The words stung more than you expected. Trust him? After everything? But even as you stood there, your mind fighting against the urge to flee, you knew that there was no other choice. You couldn’t fight it. Not now. Not yet.

So, you nodded slowly, reluctantly. “Show me then,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. Geto stepped forward, his movements fluid, and without another word, he took your hand, guiding you toward the door that led deeper into the monastery. You felt a shiver run down your spine, not from the cold, but from something else. Something darker. And in that moment, you realized that you might not ever be able to walk away from this.

Whatever this was, whatever he had turned you into, it was a part of you now. And it always would be. The door creaked open, and as Geto led you into the darkness beyond, you couldn’t help but wonder just how much further you would fall. How much further you would let him lead you into this strange new world. The pace picked up ever so slightly, the weight of it unspoken, but you felt it all the same.

You weren’t sure if it was the hunger gnawing at your insides or the way your body was beginning to respond to this new life that had been forced upon you, but there was a shift in the air, a subtle change in the way Geto moved. He led you through the monastery with an ease that suggested familiarity, like he had done this a thousand times before. The heavy silence was broken only by the soft shuffle of your feet against the stone floor, a sound so muted it barely registered in the cavernous halls.

The flickering light of a few scattered torches cast long, dancing shadows across the walls, making it seem as though the very stones themselves were alive, watching, listening. Your thoughts raced, swirling with the panic and confusion that had taken root deep inside of you. You had never been one to panic. You had always been steady, calm, collected even in the most harrowing of circumstances.

But this… this was beyond anything you had ever known. The hunger was sharp now, scraping at the inside of your throat, insistent and unbearable. You swallowed, trying to push it back, but it was like trying to hold back the tide. “We are not hunting animals,” Geto spoke, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife.

You glanced at him, trying to make sense of what he meant, but his eyes were unreadable, as they always were.

“Not tonight,” he added, as if to clarify, though it only made things more uncertain. “But you must learn. This hunger is not for the simple beasts of the forest.” He spoke as though it was a foregone conclusion, as if you should already know this, but the words only added to the weight of the unknown that pressed against you.

You didn’t understand what he meant, not truly. Not yet. The two of you moved through the monastery’s hidden passages, the air thick with an oppressive silence that seemed to magnify every movement, every breath. You could feel the faintest tremor in your limbs as you walked, the urge to feed growing stronger, insistent. It was a hunger that you could not silence, could not ignore.

And Geto, ever watchful, seemed to sense it. “Do not fight it,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “This is a part of you now. You will learn to control it, or it will control you.”

You said nothing, though the words stung more than you cared to admit. His words weren’t cruel, but there was no comfort in them either. You felt like a prisoner to your own body, a stranger in your own skin. You had no control over it, no say in the way your body now ached and throbbed with hunger, hunger for something you didn’t understand. You hadn’t asked for this. You hadn’t wanted it. But here you were.

The dim light grew fainter as you reached the heart of the monastery, a large, almost cavernous chamber hidden beneath the earth, its walls lined with ancient stone, worn smooth by time. The air here was stale, heavy with the scent of something you couldn’t place.

The hunger clawed at you again, fiercer now, and you could feel your heartbeat quicken in response. It was becoming unbearable, almost maddening. Geto stopped abruptly, his hand gently gripping your arm to still you. “Here,” he said, his voice steady but heavy with something darker beneath it. “You must feed now.”

You blinked, your body tensing, not entirely sure you understood what he was saying. You were used to food that filled the stomach, but this… this was something else entirely. “What… what do you mean?” you asked, your voice tight, though you tried to sound indifferent.

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning the shadows, his gaze piercing and unnerving. Then, without warning, he moved forward, pulling you toward the far corner of the chamber, where something shifted in the darkness. Your pulse quickened, and the hunger surged again, sharper this time, a raw and primal thing. You wanted to resist. You wanted to turn away, to run, but you couldn’t.

The compulsion was too strong. “You must feed,” he repeated, his voice insistent. “Do not fight it.”

And then, as if to show you exactly what he meant, Geto moved swiftly, his hand grasping a figure that had emerged from the shadows.

You saw it then—a person, a stranger, someone who had been hiding in the dark corners of the monastery, their body frail and thin, their eyes wide with terror. The figure was already trembling, their gaze locked onto Geto with a mixture of fear and confusion. But the fear, the confusion, it didn’t matter.

You were too far gone. You had no choice but to follow the instincts that surged within you, instincts that had been awakened by the bite, by the changes that had already begun to take hold of you. You stepped forward, your movements mechanical, driven by an instinct you didn’t fully understand.

You could feel Geto’s presence behind you, steady, guiding, and though you didn’t want to admit it, you could feel a strange sense of safety in his proximity. You reached for the figure, your fingers brushing their skin, and the sensation sent a jolt through you, a rush of electricity that made your body tense, made the hunger swell even more. The figure tried to pull back, tried to escape, but it was no use.

You were faster now, stronger than you had been, and with a single, swift motion, you grasped them, pulling them close. Their pulse fluttered beneath your fingers, fast and erratic, their breath coming in quick gasps. But it wasn’t enough.

The hunger clawed at you, relentless, unyielding. You had no choice. Your lips parted, and before you could think, before you could comprehend what was happening, you sank your teeth into their flesh. The blood was warm, rich, and it surged into your mouth, filling you in ways that food never had. It was unlike anything you had ever experienced.

It was both a relief and a terror. You could feel the essence of the person flow through you, the warmth of their life leaving them and entering you, and with each pull, the hunger inside you dimmed, if only for a moment. The figure screamed, but the sound was muffled, distant, as if it was happening to someone else, as if it wasn’t really happening to you. You wanted to pull away, to stop, but the hunger wouldn’t let you. It was all-consuming, overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop.

Not now. Not when it felt like the very core of your being was unraveling with every drop. You heard Geto’s voice, distant, but clear, cutting through the haze of your mind. “Control yourself,” he warned, his tone stern, though there was an undertone of something softer, something almost like concern. “You must stop.”

But the hunger—no, it wasn’t just hunger anymore—it was power. It was dark, intoxicating, and it filled you in a way nothing else ever had.

And just as suddenly as it began, the figure went limp, their pulse fading, and you were left with nothing but a faint taste on your tongue and an emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

You pulled away, your body trembling with the aftermath of what you had done, and you felt an overwhelming wave of disgust wash over you. This wasn’t you. This wasn’t who you were. But you couldn’t deny the pull, the way it had felt, the way it had filled you in ways you never thought possible. You stepped back, gasping, your breath ragged, as Geto’s hand landed on your shoulder, steadying you.

You looked up at him, but his expression was unreadable, a mask of calm that did nothing to soothe the storm raging inside you. “You have fed,” he said, his voice low, “and now you must learn to control it. This is your new reality, whether you want it or not.”

The words rang in your ears, and you wanted to scream, to rail against it all. But there was nothing to do. Nothing but to face this new life that had been thrust upon you. Nothing but to try and survive. The air in the chamber felt thick, charged with something unspoken as you stood there, your breath ragged and uneven, still tasting the remnants of what you had just done.

The hunger, though somewhat sated, lingered in the depths of you, a dull ache at the edges of your mind. It was a part of you now, a shadow you could not outrun. But amidst the tumult of your emotions—fear, confusion, repulsion—there was a strange pull, something warm in the cold, something not born from the hunger, but from the man standing beside you.

Geto’s presence was like a steadying force, though it did little to quell the storm in your chest. You should have been angry. You should have felt betrayed, but all you could feel was a deep, inexplicable yearning—a pull that went beyond the physical, beyond the hunger.

His hand still rested on your shoulder, and for a fleeting moment, you felt something stir within you, something unfamiliar, yet undeniable. You looked at him, really looked at him for the first time in what felt like ages. His eyes, dark and unreadable, met yours, and the weight of them made your heart skip.

He said nothing, his gaze unwavering, but there was something there now, something softer, something that made you wonder if he, too, felt the strange shift between you. He wasn’t the same as before. You had seen him as something cold, distant—an enigmatic force, a guardian of sorts. But now, there was a glimmer of something more, something human.

And that was what made the hunger inside you burn hotter. "You did well," he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, as though the words were meant for you alone. It was praise, but there was something else in it, something wrapped in layers you weren’t sure you could unwrap.

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer immediately. Instead, you found yourself taking a step closer, instinctively, drawn toward him, toward that steady presence.

The movement was small, almost imperceptible, but it was enough. Enough to feel the tension shift, to feel something softening between you both. Geto’s gaze never wavered, his hand still on your shoulder, and though he did not pull away, his fingers twitched, as if unsure of what to do next.

The silence stretched between you both, and you wondered, just for a moment, if he could feel it too—the way your heart raced a little faster, the way your body seemed to react to his nearness, to the heat that radiated from him, a heat that was neither of the flesh nor the hunger, but something more.

“You don’t have to do this alone.” He said suddenly, the words catching you off guard. You looked up at him, unsure of whether to believe him or not. “I never wanted you to feel as though you had no choice.” He spoke the words so softly, so carefully, as though afraid to break something between you. “I do not know what this is, nor where it will lead,” he continued, his voice low, almost a murmur, “but I will be here, as long as you’ll let me.”

It wasn’t much, but in that moment, it felt like a promise. A quiet one. A fragile one. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak immediately, the weight of his words pressing against the new, strange emotions rising in your chest. Your heart thudded, loud in your ears, and the pull you had felt earlier was stronger now.

You took a steadying breath, your hand twitching at your side, as though the simple act of reaching for him was something you were still unsure of.

Your heart thudded, loud in your ears, and the pull you had felt earlier was stronger now. You took a steadying breath, your hand twitching at your side, as though the simple act of reaching for him was something you were still unsure of.

Geto watched you, his expression unreadable, but there was something in his eyes—something waiting, something gentle, that made the air between you both crackle. Without thinking, you reached out, just a fraction, your fingers brushing against his arm. It was fleeting, but the contact felt like a spark, a spark that sent a shiver down your spine.

His eyes darkened, but he said nothing, didn’t move away. He was waiting. For what, you didn’t know. But it was enough. For now, it was enough. Your heart thundered in your chest as the realization settled over you: you weren’t sure what this was, what he was to you now, but you were drawn to him—just as he seemed drawn to you. And that was dangerous, terrifying. But also, impossibly, wonderfully, inevitable.

“Why?” You asked, your voice steady even if your hands were not, “Why do we feed on them when we have each other,” and the words surprised even you for their bluntness, but it was the question that had lived behind your eyes since the monastery doors closed behind you, since the villagers scattered like ash, since the warmth of your own blood became nothing more than memory.

Geto blinked slowly as though the question was unexpected though you knew it was not, and his fingers curled lightly around the edge of the stone bench he sat on, his expression unreadable as always, but his answer came, soft but without hesitation, “Because we are not meant to survive each other”

You stared at him, uncomprehending, your brow furrowed as he went on.

“There is little left in us that is not hunger, but what we do have, we hold tight to, and blood shared between us is sacred, not survival,” and you tilted your head slightly, the faintest scowl tugging at your mouth.

“You mean to say it’s sentiment?” You asked, and he smiled then, not kindly, not mockingly, but with a strange heaviness behind it.

“It is power, and intimacy, and the only part of us that still belongs to choice,” he said, “We do not share it lightly.”

You looked away, the fire in the hearth casting long flickering shadows that made the chamber feel older than it was, ancient even, and still you were not satisfied, “Then why did you not give me yours instead of taking from me.” You asked.

He was quiet again, his gaze not faltering, and when he spoke it was with no defense, only truth, “Because if I had given you mine, it would have been for me, not for you.”

Something in that sentence stilled the air, made your chest tighten without warning, and you turned away as if the walls themselves had begun to listen too closely, your hand finding the edge of the stone table and gripping it, grounding yourself in something that felt real because nothing inside you did anymore, not since the forest, not since the pain, and the way he said it made you want to curse and scream and bury your fists in the stone until it cracked, because you understood now that he had chosen the crueler path not for lack of mercy but to avoid binding you to him.

Yet the bond was there all the same, creeping beneath your skin like a thread pulled taut, and though you had no name for it you felt it when he stepped closer, when his voice dropped just slightly, when he said, “Do you feel it?”

You hated that you did, hated that the moment he asked you wanted to lie but could not, so you stayed quiet, and he did not need the answer spoken aloud.

“It will not hurt you,” he said, “Not unless you fight it too hard.”

You spun to face him, your eyes sharp, your voice sharper, “And what exactly is it?”

For once he hesitated, not because he did not know, but because he did, and that silence told you more than any answer might have, so you laughed once under your breath, dry and bitter.

“So I am tied to you now,” you said, “Because you bit me?”

He nodded once, solemn, “Yes,” and you did not know whether you wanted to flee or strike him or collapse against him and scream, and perhaps you wanted all three, so instead you folded your arms and said nothing, the only sound the quiet hiss of the fire and the wind pushing against the old monastery walls, and he did not come closer but nor did he move away, and the space between you had begun to ache with something you could not name, something just under the surface of your skin like a bruise not yet formed.

You remembered the stories, the old tales whispered in taverns and over grave soil, that once turned a vampire was never free, never alone, but those stories had always been told by mortals, not those who had lived it, and now you stood at the edge of that truth and found it both colder and heavier than you had ever imagined, and yet somehow not as hollow, because he had given you no lies, and that, more than anything, confused you, and when he spoke again it was with the weight of centuries behind it.

“I have not turned another in all my years,” he said, “Not once, not until now,” and you looked at him then, truly looked, and saw not a monster but a man who had carved his own loneliness so deeply into his skin it would never wash clean.

You said nothing because there was nothing to say, but you reached out again, not fully, not yet ready, but enough that your hand brushed against his once more, and this time he did not wait, his fingers closing over yours slowly like a question not yet asked, and your heart clenched because even now it was too much and not enough, and you whispered, “Will it always feel like this?”

“Only when you are near,” and that answer did not frighten you, not in the way it should have, because somewhere in the marrow of your new self you already knew it to be true.

You did not draw your hand away and neither did he, and for a while the two of you stood as though time had folded in on itself and wrapped this chamber in its palm like a secret no god would dare disturb, and your fingers, though colder than they once were, did not tremble beneath his, and his grip, light as it was, held a kind of stillness you had not yet seen in him, as though whatever distance he had forced between you had finally faltered for a moment and in its place came this hush, this small brittle peace, and when you did move it was only to sit, carefully, as though any sudden sound might fracture what had quietly taken root between.

He followed without speaking, lowering himself to the bench across from you though your hands did not part until necessity demanded it, and when you let go the warmth that lingered on your skin startled you more than you wished to admit, for you had thought warmth impossible now, lost to the old self you buried back in the clearing where your blood had once stained the leaves, but it stayed, flickering like a coal under ash, and when your eyes finally met again you both looked away at the same time, not from shame or fear but from the slow realisation that the bond between you would not be undone, not by time nor distance nor even death, and so it would have to be borne, and neither of you yet knew how.

When you finally stood it was with a kind of silent understanding that some quiet thread had been pulled taut between you and now all that remained was to walk forward and see where it led, and the monastery breathed around you, its ancient stone archways leading deeper into the dark, where halls stretched into quiet cloisters and broken alcoves thick with dust and silence.

Geto stepped ahead of you with the easy pace of someone who had walked these paths before, not guiding but simply being there, and you followed, not out of submission but because for now there was no other path you trusted, and the quiet of the place was not heavy but deep, like a well that held memory in its throat, and the flicker of torchlight along the walls cast long shadows that slipped between the cracks of the stone and danced in your wake.

As you walked your senses shifted without warning, not just sight and sound but something stranger, something that prickled at the base of your neck and tightened in your stomach, as though the world itself had begun speaking in a new tongue you were only now beginning to understand, and you caught scent of something ahead, not foul but unmistakably sharp, metal-sweet and thick like a bruise on the air.

You knew before he said it that blood had been spilled nearby, not old but recent, and Geto’s posture stiffened though his voice did not rise when he murmured, “They are near,” and you knew he did not mean men, and you asked no further question because your body already knew what to do though your mind was still catching up.

The two of you moved soundlessly now, like breath in a chapel, and when you turned the corner and stepped into the broken courtyard, you saw them—three figures cloaked in ash-coloured leather, huddled over something fallen and twitching on the stones, and they did not hear you approach, not until Geto’s voice cut through the air with terrible calm, “Step away.”

They turned, slowly, snarling, their mouths still stained with the red of what they had taken, and the body beneath them—what was left of it—was no longer moving, and you recognised the sickled curve of their limbs, the hollow hunger in their eyes, not like yours, not like his, these were not turned with care or reason, they were feral, fledglings or worse, and they did not speak but lunged, not at him but at you, as though the scent of new blood pulled them like wolves from the edge of sanity.

You did not think, only moved, your body no longer slow, no longer aching, but swift and cold and sure, and your hand found the blade at your side without looking, a gift Geto had left for you without words earlier that evening, and it slid into your palm like it belonged there, and when the first creature reached you you did not hesitate, you twisted, stepped aside, and drove the blade upward into its throat, not clean but deep.

The thing shrieked, a sound that scraped against the inside of your teeth, and collapsed in a heap of limbs and broken sound, and behind you you heard Geto strike the second, not with blade but with his hands, and the crack of bone echoed off the stone as its body was thrown against the wall hard enough to leave blood in its wake, and the last of them fled, not cowardly but with the cunning of something that would wait and try again later.

You stood in the aftermath, panting though you did not need the air, the blood on your hand still warm, and Geto came to your side and did not speak, only looked down at the body at your feet, and then at you, and then quietly said, “You learn quickly.”

You said nothing, only wiped the blade on your sleeve and turned your gaze to the edge of the courtyard where the stars still blinked down as though none of this had happened, and after a long moment, you asked, “Were they like me?”

He shook his head once, “No. Turned carelessly. Left untaught. They are not rare,”

You felt something knot in your chest, not pity but fury, because you knew then that what you had been given—what he had given you—was not a curse alone, but also a choice, and the weight of that pressed against your ribs until you could hardly speak, so instead you asked, “Will they keep coming?”

He nodded, “Until they are stopped.”

You turned your eyes to the dark where the last had vanished and said, “Then we stop them,” and he did not smile but there was something in his eyes then that steadied you, and you stood in that courtyard as the night deepened around you, blood cooling on your palms, and a strange sense of rightness bloomed under your skin like frost melting beneath morning sun, and when the wind rose again, it no longer carried the scent of fear, only resolve.

The silence did not last, of course it never could in a place where peace was fleeting and shadows lived longer than men, and though the night outside the monastery cloaked the world in a brittle hush, it was not enough to muffle the faintest ripple of intrusion, a sound like laughter carried on the wind, too light to be kind, too sharp to be dismissed.

You had not yet risen from your place near the embers when Geto stilled beside you, his head tilting slightly, the way an animal does when it senses another circling just beyond the trees, and though your body remained human in shape it understood now what it meant to tense for something unseen, for danger without a face, and before you could even ask he rose and crossed the room like smoke, slow but deliberate, and you knew that if something was coming it would not be good, for Geto had become unreadable, his eyes no longer fully soft, no longer entirely his.

When the doors groaned open without warning, not broken down but politely pushed, like an old friend returning home, it was Daiki who entered first, his grin as sharp as ever, his eyes trailing over the walls and tapestries like he had helped lay every stone, like he was coming to claim something, or someone, and following him was the other male, mouth curved in that same disdainful smirk that always made your fists itch, and last was the woman whose name you still did not know.

The second they saw you standing beside Geto, not dead, not drained, but changed, the silence broke not with rage or warning but with laughter, cruel and glinting, like knives wrapped in silk, “Well,” Daiki said, drawing the word out like a bow across strings, “Isn’t this sweet?”

The other male’s lip curled as he stepped further in, boots not bothering to soften their approach across the stone, “You turned her,” he said to Geto, voice low and vaguely amused, “how very unlike you.”

The woman did not speak but walked the perimeter like she was measuring the room for caskets, her fingers trailing the edges of the nearest bench, and you stayed still because this wasn’t your fight, not yet, not unless it became one, but the air had changed and your stomach twisted with it.

“I did what I had to.” Geto said evenly, arms loose at his sides, not inviting a challenge but not dismissing one either, and it wasn’t anger you heard in his tone but something colder, quieter, something that did not have a name but still made the woman glance at him more carefully.

“Had to?” Daiki echoed, voice all honey and thorns, “Come now, Geto, since when have you done anything because you had to?” His eyes flicked toward you then, narrowing with something unkind, “I thought we didn’t play with our food.”

Though the words were mocking the implication beneath them was sharp enough to cut, “You think this is a game?” You asked, your voice flat, unmoved, and Daiki’s smile widened, delighted.

“Oh I know it is,” he said, “the only difference now is that you’ve been dragged onto the board,”

The woman finally spoke then, her voice low and melodic like a lullaby turned rotten, “He must have cared for you more than he let on, to waste the gift on a human.”

Something in your chest twitched at that, not from her tone but from the word waste, because whatever you were now, whatever he had made you, you would never be someone’s regret, “Why are you here?” Geto asked, not cruelly, but without welcome.

“We heard the screaming, and the smoke,” Daiki said, gesturing lazily to the open window, “we thought perhaps someone was dying, imagine our surprise,” and his gaze landed on you again, slower this time, more curious than mocking, “Do you even know what he’s done to you?” He asked

Though the question was pointed you met it with the same nonchalance you always had, “I was there,” you said, “I know enough.”

But Daiki only chuckled, “Do you?” He pressed, taking a step closer, “Did he tell you what it means, when a vampire chooses to change someone with their own bite?” and your silence was answer enough.

“Of course he didn’t.” The woman muttered, and tsked softly under her breath, like she pitied you, and for a moment there was nothing but the faint crackle of the fire behind you, until the other male stepped forward with a theatrical sigh, hands in his coat pockets like this was a conversation he’d had too many times, like it bored him, even as his eyes glittered with cruel delight.

“Turning a human, especially like this,” he said, gesturing between you and Geto with a lazy flick of his wrist, “isn’t as simple as just keeping them alive,” and he said it the way someone might say patching a wound, like it was medical, clinical, but his smirk ruined the illusion, “There’s always a reason,” he continued, beginning to pace just a little, not nervously, but like he was telling a story for an audience, “Sometimes it’s practical—warriors, companions, tools,” and he glanced at you, sneering, “dolls,” then back to Geto, “and sometimes,” he said, voice turning mockingly dreamy, “it’s to keep someone with you forever.”

Daiki hummed like he was hearing a love story and hating every word of it, “Is that what it was, Geto? Couldn’t let this one rot?” he teased, and Geto didn’t move, didn’t blink.

“But there’s a third reason. One you clearly didn’t know about, sweetheart,” and the way he called you that made your jaw clench, “Sometimes,” he said slowly, almost savouring it, “when a vampire changes someone during a particular cycle—rare, celestial, you might say—it forges a bond, not just physical, but… binding.”

He stopped in front of you, gaze flicking to the faint mark on your neck, still healing, still warm beneath the skin.

“Like a vow,” he said, voice gleaming with menace, “like a ritual,” Daiki grinned, “Like a marriage,” he supplied, and your stomach flipped as the words hung there, ugly and cold and unwanted.

“But only,” the other male added, tone sharp again, “when the cycle is active, when the stars align, which, lucky for you both—” he pointed upward, finger circling toward the ceiling like it could see through to the heavens, “—is happening right now.”

Daiki barked a laugh, delighted, “Oh, Geto, you romantic bastard,” he said, “You didn’t just save her. You married her,” and the words were ridiculous, they had to be, but the way Geto looked at the floor for a fraction of a second too long, the way he didn’t interrupt, didn’t deny, made the air shift between your ribs.

“Tell me you didn’t forget,” the woman said, still watching Geto, eyes dancing with venom, “Tell me you didn’t just go and perform the oldest rite our kind knows and not even warn her,” and you opened your mouth to speak, to demand the truth, but Daiki got there first.

“They’ll come for you, you know,” “if word gets out. You think this place can hide something like that?”

You shook your head, stepping forward despite yourself, “So what—you’re saying I’m married to him now?”

Daiki laughed, full-bodied and mean, “No,” he said, “I’m saying you’re bound, which is worse,” he leaned in slightly, enough to make your hands twitch with the urge to hit him, “Because marriage can be undone,” he whispered, “but this?” his smile widened, “this has teeth.”

For a moment all you could do was stare at him, heart thudding hard enough to drown out the wind through the open halls, and behind them, Geto finally spoke, voice low and strained, “It wasn’t meant to happen like this.”

Daiki’s eyes lit up, “So you do remember,” he said, “How sweet,” and then he looked back at you, eyes glittering, “Hope you like commitment, darling,” he said, “because you’re going to feel him in your bones until the cycle ends.”

The woman added smoothly, “Or until it’s completed,” and you didn’t ask what that meant, not yet, not with the way they were smiling, like devils at a wedding feast, like they were waiting for you to realise the punchline to a joke they’d been telling for centuries.

The air felt thick with tension as Daiki's cruel laughter echoed in the chambers, but it was the woman who stepped forward, her lips curling into a tight smile. “It’s tradition,” she said, her voice smooth like honey, dripping with malice. “And a bond like this isn’t easily undone.” She tilted her head, her strange eyes glinting in the dim light. “A marriage, yes, but it’s more than just that. It’s a claim—a permanent connection between you both. And,” she added with a mocking glance toward you, “it’s not something either of you can escape from. Not unless one of you dies or the bond is severed. But even then...”

She trailed off with a knowing smirk, as if leaving the consequences unsaid made them even more ominous. Geto’s face remained impassive, but his eyes were hard, narrowed at the trio before him. His hands clenched at his sides, though his posture stayed still, unyielding.

“This isn’t your concern,” he said quietly, but there was a thread of something cold in his tone that was enough to make Daiki chuckle again, a low sound that didn’t reach his eyes.

“Isn’t it, though?” Daiki retorted. “You’ve made it our concern the moment you decided to change her, and now...” He stepped closer to you, his boots scraping against the floor, sending a shiver down your spine. “Now we’re all bound by the same fate.”

His grin was wide, too wide, and you could feel the malice in every word.

“The bond between a vampire and their... chosen one, is something everyone feels, even if they don’t know it yet. Imagine what you’ve signed yourself up for,” he said, eyes flashing as he finally turned his gaze to Geto. “You really didn’t think this through, did you? How long will you keep pretending she’s just a... a human to you?”

His tone was mocking, and the laughter that followed made your stomach twist. The woman still watching you with that same unsettling gaze shifted slightly, her eyes flickering from Daiki to Geto.

“The marriage part is simple, really,” she said, stepping forward. “What you don’t understand is what happens after, but I’ll let you figure that one out. You’re bound to each other now, connected in ways you don’t fully comprehend. And it isn’t just a choice you get to make. No. It’s tradition. Tradition demands you both stay together, the bond woven into your very existence. That’s the curse of it.”

She continued, her voice dropping into something more sinister.

“You both have no choice but to endure the pull of each other’s blood, each other’s touch. To break it is... almost impossible. The cycle doesn’t just end; it requires completion. And completion? Well, that’s something special.”

She let the last word hang in the air, dark and tantalizing, like a threat and a promise at once. Daiki laughed again, louder this time, and clapped a hand to his chest. “Special, she says,” he mocked. “Like it’s something beautiful. Like a fairytale.”

He smirked at you, and there was no kindness in the gesture, just cruelty, just the fun of seeing someone caught in a game they didn’t even know they were playing.

“Geto’s not the romantic type, sweetheart. But I’m sure he’s already figured out that there’s no running from this. No hiding. It’s already done. You’ll be his, and he’ll be yours—until the end of time.”

His voice was light, but the weight of his words sank into the room like poison. You felt the air get heavier, the truth of it hanging over you, making everything you thought you knew about yourself feel far away, distant. The other male crossed his arms, watching the exchange with mild amusement. “You see,” he said, “there’s a certain beauty to it. The way it changes you both. No more running from what you are, what you’re meant to be. You think this is all about love or duty or whatever else? It’s not. It’s about survival, about making sure that the vampire and their mate are bound forever, inseparably.”

He paused, his eyes flicking to Geto, then back to you. “It’s about control. And once you’re marked—once you’ve been claimed—you don’t get to choose.”

His smirk deepened, as if savoring the final punchline.

“So yes, little bride,” Daiki said, mocking the word with a sneer, “you’ll go through with it. You’ll go through with everything because that’s the way it has to be.” Daiki stepped closer to Geto, his eyes glittering with something dark. “You won’t be able to run. And you won’t be able to pretend it’s all some kind of accident. No. This isn’t just some feeding ritual, Geto. This is a life sentence. Both of you are tied together. Whether you like it or not.”

Geto didn’t move, didn’t flinch, but there was a heaviness in his silence, a weight in the air between the two of you.

The woman, who had been watching silently, finally spoke again, her voice light, as if she were offering a piece of advice. “You’ll feel it, won’t you?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, eyes narrowing as they studied you with an almost clinical interest. “The bond. The way it pulls at you, at your very soul. You’ll feel his presence. Always. It will be there, woven through your every thought, your every breath.” She chuckled softly, but there was no joy in it, only the sound of something predatory. “And when the time comes for completion...”

She let the word linger, heavy with implication. Daiki grinned, looking from the woman to you and then back to Geto, “Don’t you worry, sweet girl. You won’t be alone. Not ever.” His smile widened as he stepped toward the door. “Not unless one of you decides to kill the other, of course. But I’d rather not be here for that.”

Daiki’s laughter filled the room again, harsh and mocking, as he followed the other male to the door, and the woman lingered a moment longer, her eyes locked on Geto with something unreadable in their depths.

“You’ll understand soon enough.” She murmured, then turned to leave, her footsteps fading as she followed the others into the night.

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating, and in that moment, standing with Geto, your mind raced, the weight of their words crashing down on you. You were tied to him now, in ways you didn’t understand, in ways that were beyond your control, and the bond was not just physical but something far deeper, far more permanent.

You didn’t know what the future held, but you knew one thing: you couldn’t escape it. Neither of you could. Geto finally moved, his presence like a shadow behind you, his breath warm against your skin. “I didn’t want this for you.” He said, his voice low, full of regret, but even his words couldn’t change the truth of it, the truth that was now inescapable.

The bond was real. And it was yours to bear.

“Geto,” you whispered, voice barely audible, as you turned to face him, your eyes searching his. “You... didn’t tell me.” There was a mix of frustration and confusion in your tone, as if you were hoping for an answer, for some explanation that could untangle the mess that was now your reality.

Geto didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the door where the others had just exited. His fists were clenched at his sides, as though trying to hold something back, something that was threatening to break free.

“I didn’t want to,” Geto said after a long silence, his voice a low rasp. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with it, not like this.” He finally met your eyes, and there was something raw, something guilty in his gaze. “I thought maybe... if I could protect you, keep you safe, I could spare you from all of this.”

You shook your head, anger and confusion bubbling inside you. “But you didn’t,” you snapped, your voice rising. “You didn’t spare me, Geto. You just—.” You stopped yourself, unsure of how to finish that sentence. But the truth was there, hanging in the air between you, thick and suffocating.

“I know,” he said softly, his expression pained. “I know. But I couldn’t let you die. I couldn’t... watch you die.” He paused, his voice faltering. “I made the choice for you, because I couldn’t let you go.” His words were heavy with something deeper, something you couldn’t quite grasp.

“You should’ve told me,” you insisted, your chest tight with the weight of it all. “I had the right to know, to make the decision for myself.”

His gaze softened, but there was something else there, something darker. “You didn’t have a choice,” he murmured, his voice almost too quiet to hear. “Once the bond is formed, once it’s been sealed... there’s no turning back. You are mine now, whether you want it or not.”

The words hit you harder than anything the others had said. You took a step back, your mind racing as you processed the finality of it all. His. The weight of the word crushed you, filling your chest with an unfamiliar ache.

“Why didn’t you just let me go?” you whispered, your voice breaking, the emotion rising in your throat like bile. “Why did you have to drag me into this?”

Geto looked as though you had physically struck him. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, before he took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, like he was forcing himself to stay calm. “Because I couldn’t let you die, and I couldn’t let you go. You’re more than just... a human to me. You’re...” He faltered, not quite meeting your eyes, as if the words themselves were too much for him to say aloud.

Geto couldn’t say it, because he’d sound mad.

“I’m what?” You demanded, frustration bleeding through in your voice.

He finally met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense, filled with something you couldn’t identify. “You’re mine, just as much as I’m yours,” he said quietly, almost as if the words were a confession. “You don’t understand it now, but you will. You’ll feel it, the pull, the connection, the bond between us. It’s not just about... us. It’s about *everything*.” His voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension there, a flicker of something unspoken between you.

You shook your head, your thoughts a blur. “I don’t want this. I don’t want to be yours.” The words tasted bitter on your tongue, but you couldn’t stop yourself. “You did this to me, Geto. You didn’t give me a choice. You didn’t even ask what I wanted.”

He didn’t respond right away, his face unreadable, but you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, like a heavy pressure that pressed down on your chest. When he spoke again, his voice was low, almost regretful. “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, “but this... this is what happens when you cross the line. When you make a choice without thinking of the consequences. You are mine, and I...” His voice trailed off, as if he couldn’t quite bring himself to finish the sentence.

“And you what?” You pressed, your voice tight with anger. “You’ll protect me? Is that what you think this is? That I’m some... some possession to be protected?” You could feel the heat rising in your chest, your anger boiling over. “You’ve already *ruined* me, Geto. You’ve taken away my choice, my freedom. And now you think you can just fix it?”

He flinched, but his expression didn’t change. “I never wanted to ruin you,” he said softly. “But I knew... I knew the moment I made the decision that there was no turning back. You’re mine now, whether you like it or not.” His voice was firm, unyielding, and you could feel the finality of his words like a sharp knife twisting in your gut.

“I hate this,” you spat, your words sharp and bitter, but Geto just stood there, his expression hardening, as if he were bracing himself for something. “I hate this.” You repeated, more forcefully this time.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, as if he understood exactly what you were feeling. “I hate it too.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved, the weight of the bond hanging between you, suffocating. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your harsh breathing, and the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same again. The silence stretched on, and in that moment, you realized you couldn’t run. You couldn’t escape the truth. You were bound to him, just as much as he was bound to you.

Finally, Geto broke the silence, his voice low and steady. “I didn’t want this for you. I didn’t want you to become... this. But now, there’s no going back. You’ll feel the pull, soon. The bond will get stronger, and then you’ll understand. But it’s not something I can undo. Not now. Not ever.” His words were heavy, resigned, and you couldn’t help but feel the truth of it.

“You’ve ruined my life. You said quietly, the words hanging in the air between you like a heavy curse.

Geto didn’t deny it, didn’t argue. He just nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. And in that moment, you both knew that there was no escape, no way out. The bond was permanent. You were his. And he was yours.

Forever.

if you read this far, thank you 😚

#ᶻz 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐈 #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen #geto suguru #suguru geto #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #getou suguru x reader #vampire geto #geto x y/n

119 notes · View notes

carbondioxidewater · 8 months ago

Text

The Beauty of the Undead

Vampire!Gojo x female!reader

genre: romance, fluff, angst, au but few parallels to gojo's canon trauma, smut (at the end)

word count: 13.3k

A cold breeze spreads through the bodies of people passing by. The white flakes descending from the sky, you find smoke from people's mouths dissolving into the air.

The cold brings out the dark creatures, for in the cold it is dark. The warmth your cloak provides is almost comparable to the temperature of your body, the flowing, pure blood in your veins that attracts these creatures.

It is your blood in particular, this fragrant, delicious potion, that attracts a man who has such flawless white skin, almost identical to fragile porcelain, more beautiful than any human should be, and whose eyes flash in the night with such intensity that no human could possess in life.

But you do not notice the staring presence of this man's almost obsessive pursuit - not until that one day. It was just before midnight, you were about to let the blinds of your bedroom cover the window when you spotted a silhouette in the distance on the deserted street through the glass. It was standing sideways, its head tilted towards you even before you noticed it, the shine of its white hair easily confused with the sparkling snow. Glowing eyes stared deep into yours.

Despite the horror-like atmosphere that this motionless standing on the hard asphalt was supposed to create, you were not afraid. It was as if the being could infiltrate your inner being and speak to it. And it made you feel like you didn't have to be afraid.

But all of this happened in a tiny moment, just a blink on your part and the figure you had seen from the height of your apartment vanished as if swallowed by the earth. It happened in such a hurry that you weren't sure if you had maybe just imagined it.

But you hadn't. Because in the months that followed, the mysterious being, who always disappeared so quickly when you noticed him, and you crossed paths again and again.

Whether it was day or night, he followed you without showing himself too much, let alone getting close enough for you to make out anything more than his dark robes. It made you feel a little uncomfortable, like the prey of a predator examining it, but at the same time, after a while, you noticed a certain comfort spreading through you whenever you felt his presence. As if this uneasy demeanor scared away the real dangers of this world. You didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, but since he stayed away from you for the most part, you didn't worry any longer.

That is, until he didn't anymore, of course.

He followed you when you went to work during the day and he followed you when you walked home on another lonely night, but most importantly - he followed you into the depths of your dreams.

It was another peaceful winter night, you slept soundly and dreamed of the mysterious man. It was a nightmare, the man came towards you so fast and with such a terrible grimace of hunger that it threatened to tear you in two, to brutally tear you apart, before you woke up drenched in sweat.

In your dark room you only saw the man's eyes reflecting in the soft moonlight. You screamed a cry of terror when he was already gone again. You looked around you, to your left and right along the corners of your room, but the man was no longer to be seen.

The feeling of being watched disturbed your sleep more often from then on, but you never saw that figure in the comfort of your room again. You always woke up from a seemingly non-existent aura, always striving to go back to sleep.

You started looking for him, trying to get closer to him, but you failed miserably.

Until one day, when he loosened the chains of his distance and you suddenly felt him right behind you on the street in front of your house. You turned around, your heart racing because of the oppressive feeling, and there he was - motionless and with no intention of retreating. You were in such panick that your legs threatened to run away, but you were too scared to move. At the same time, you were eager to finally find out who or what he was.

He stood there, rooted to the spot, the black hat covering the upper half of his face. You had just returned from meeting your friends and started looking out for that familiar silhouette when the dark, attractive sound of his voice reached you.

"Looking for me?" was what he simply said.

He tilted his head up and for the first time you could really see him, a slight smirk on his face before it neutralized again at your gaze.

His skin was so clear that it was almost shining and long luscious white eyelashes adorned his eyelids. His lips were the only thing on him that had a vital color to them, they were almost as red as blood, albeit paler. His whole appearance was pure harmony - his silky blouse that highlighted his neck, the black cloak that hugged his shoulders.

A strong, dangerous aura emanated from him and despite his beautiful, fragile-looking body, he was equipped with many muscles. You couldn't understand how someone could look so delicate and powerful at the same time. But he was beautiful, very beautiful, probably the most beautiful being you had ever seen.

He looked almost like a noble gentleman from ancient times, but the most frightening thing were his sparkling blue eyes. They were so bright that you didn't dare to look into them for more than a few seconds, because their gaze was so intimidating that you suddenly felt like the smallest being in the universe.

"W-why are you following me?" you stuttered with a dry throat and he prepared to answer.

"A girl like you shouldn't walk around alone at night. It's dangerous." his voice sounded so deep when he took a step towards you, your bodies almost touching.

Then, something started to run out of you. It didn't take long for you to notice what it was - blood. You must have gotten your period earlier because of the stress.

All of a sudden his eyes turned blood red and he no longer seemed as calm and collected as he had a few moments ago. The gentleness of his body quickly changed into bestial behavior. The veins on his neck were tense, protruding and throbbing - his Adam's apple was the same. You could practically see his pulse with your naked eye and your whole body shuddered. When he started panting in and out threateningly, as if he had to suppress something inside of him, you saw fangs grow between his lips.

You screamed in fear and he turned away from you in shame, his head tilted sideways. You immediately regained the ability to move and you used it without hesitation to quickly run to your front door and sprint up the stairs. When you were in your apartment and looked out of the window to the spot where you had been standing just a few moments ago, it was deserted. Once again, the mysterious man had disappeared without a trace.

After that, you didn't see him again for a month.

The next month, you lay in bed, drenched in sweat. You had caught some kind of infection that was making you suffer more than usual. It was unbearable, you think had never been so immobile before. It had to be something serious.

When the doctor came, he confirmed your suspicions. It was something with your lungs, but you couldn't even pay enough attention to his words due to your bad condition. He gave you the necessary medication, but no matter how well you followed the instructions, it didn't help.

One day, you coughed blood, a bad sign, and when the days went by, you soon gave up the hope of getting better.

The worst thing is you couldn't even grieve your own life, too weak to mourn after your upcoming loss, too weak to properly say goodbye. You thought that soon, it would be over for you. And you couldn't do a thing about it.

And then one night he came into your room. You were just tormenting yourself in your sleep when you subconsciously felt like you were being watched. You weakly opened your eyes and he was standing at the foot of your bed, silent.

Your pulse immediately rose, afraid of the stranger who, however, never intended to harm you. You were in what was probably the most vulnerable moment of your life, unable to defend yourself when his voice interrupted your train of thought.

"Don't be scared. I will not harm you." he said in a clear tone. The melodious sound reverberated through your whole body and made you shudder with intensity.

You didn't notice, but he was suddenly next to you, cupping your cheek softly with his ice cold hand and looking down at you somewhat tender.

"...I could never harm you." he said in a deep, quiet voice. Suddenly he sounded vulnerable and that calmed you down.

He stroked your forehead and felt the heat, his mouth opened slightly in shock.

"Your condition is worse than expected." he voiced and this statement caused an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach.

"I can help you." he then declared and you looked up at him innocently, surprised by his offer.

"My abilities allow me to release antibodies in your blood, if you want me to."

You didn't know exactly what he meant and furrowed your brows in confusion.

"And what do you expect in return?" you asked weakly, suspicious of his selflessness.

"Believe me, I already get more than enough from that." he smiled kindly.

You watched his expression before nodding hesitantly. If your condition was as bad as you fear, you didn't have anything to lose anyways.

"Please forgive me for this."

Those were his last words before he suddenly came very close to you and gently tilted your neck in the opposite direction. He hesitated for a moment, gave you one last pityful look before forming his fangs and reddish eyes and biting directly into the veins that surrounded your neck.

At the contact you jumped up in panic and pain, the stinging in your throat so burning that the arm that is not suppressed by his body flied into the air. He reacted quickly, however, wrapping his wrist around yours and squeezing it a little eagerly back on the mattress next to your head. His hold was strong.

At that moment, you didn't know if he was sucking the life out of your veins or the virus.

But the next moment, the sudden improvement in your body told you that it was the latter. It happened so quickly, you felt him literally sucking the germs out of you and with every sip you felt the illness leaving your body - almost the same effect that pain killers had.

You heard him gulp and sometimes even moan in satisfaction and you couldn't help but feel electrified by his deeply arousing sounds.

After a while, he let go of you somewhat reluctantly and when your eyes met his glowing, euphoric face, the dark veins spreading under his eyes and his blood-soaked lips, tingling sensations spread through your body. This sight went straight to your core.

He looked at you completely out of breath, sensitive and saturated, brows tilted upwards and mouth opened as if he just experienced the biggest high until you see black in front of your eyes and he realizes that he stopped too late.

In the following time you thought a lot about him, about the threatening aura and the seemingly absent threat. Something inside you wanted to see him again, to enjoy this indescribable beauty once more. He just wouldn't let you go.

Until you came out of the bathroom one night - your white nightgown enveloping your body - and he stood in your living room. Your eyes immediately widened, but his seductive voice drowned out the loud beating of your heart.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you again." he affirmed in a guilty tone that surprised you.

"I know." is the only thing you mumbled in response. He said nothing more.

Instead he came towards you, the lightness of his steps made it seem like he had been here a thousand times already.

He was now standing in front of you and his eyes penetrating yours casted such a spell on you that you thought you were losing yourself in them. It all seemed so alluring, as if you were caught in a kind of trance and only wanted to live under his gaze, otherwise you would never be happy again. The intense blue is so wide and deep that you couldn't find your way out of it. He took you in with the same speed in which he always disappeared.

"What's your name?" you finally asked, quietly, and he seemed surprised by the question.

"Gojo. Satoru Gojo." he replied and you were amazed.

"Satoru Gojo..." you repeated.

For a moment, everything was quiet and he studied your face. He couldn't decipher your expression.

"Now you know for sure what I am, and you're afraid of me, even though I seem so attractive to you."

You just shook your head.

"I'm not afraid of you." you said quietly and it's true, because in the time you had to think, you realized that he had never done anything that gave you a reason to fear him. He followed you, but you felt strangely protected, as if he was protecting you from all the real threats as your personal shield.

His hard, strong body then caught your attention, half lidded eyes almost undressing him. At the sight, the blood rushed to your cheeks and you blushed abruptly. You tried to get closer to him, to bathe more in his glory, but he quickly turned away from you and ran somewhere else. He suddenly seemed so disheartened.

You followed him with your gaze, fascination written all over your face before you followed suit with your steps.

"You're not in your right mind." he said, his back to you.

You shyly denied it, but couldn't say anything else, just followed him like a dog follows its owner. You didn't even notice you were moving out of the building and into the darkness of the outside world.

"Look at you, following me, without any hesitation. Without the freedom to decide for yourself."

But something inside you knew that wasn't true.

"What are you talking about, I'm here because of my own free will."

He laughed. He laughed so loudly and dangerously and seductively that you were completely unsure what you should feel - fear or excitement. It almost sounded mocking.

"You don't believe that yourself. Look around, where are we?"

"In my ho-"

Only now did you notice that you were in the forest. For a moment you were afraid again. He sensed it.

"This is all natural. The purpose of my body is to allure, to seduce you. Just so I can kill you better. Even though I wouldn't have trouble doing so anyways, considering I'm superior in every way."

You shook your head and your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief.

He came towards you and leaned against the tree, his arm propping up over your head and his massive body caging you in.

"You're scared." he remarked.

"But not of you, of the fact that I didn't notice my surroundings." you replied.

He sighed before looking down at you again, moving closer to you under him until your faces were just a few inches apart.

"Everything about you makes me want to hurt you. To feed off of you. You don't even realize what a temptation you are." he voiced in a low tone.

It caught your breath briefly when his fingers wandered along your neck. You took his hand into yours and he turned his gaze away from your neck and instead focused on your eyes again. His own widened a little at this action.

"You told me yourself that you wouldn't do this."

"Don't be scared. I will not harm you." were his words back then.

"Maybe I only said that to gain your trust and make you compliant."

You shook your head again.

"If that was the case, it would contradict everything you said about the alleged natural attraction. You wouldn't have to gain my trust if I'm not able to resist your charm anyways."

He was shocked at your wits and brilliant observation. But he didn't want to give in. He couldn't.

"I lured you into the woods with that intent."

"I don't believe you. You saved me." you said again, this time more convinced than before.

"Maybe I'm just playing a game to spice things up." His deep voice murmured, a wide smirk on his face.

You shook your head stubbornly and prepared to speak once more, but Gojo interrupted your plan by roughly placing both of his arms next to your head. The sudden harshness made you wince. He twisted his face in anger, struggling to hide his distress. Being so close to you was driving him crazy.

"I've known you for a very long time. Your gentle face, your soft hair, even your intoxicating lips make me drunk with desire."

He brushed a strand of hair from your face, tucked it behind your ear and continued.

"I dreamed of you. I saw your face in the stars. I don't know if I imagined it, if my skilled eyes betrayed me with their high efficiency, but I spent many nights looking up to the sky in hopes of seeing that same constellation once again. It was like a curse never finding your existence. I seeked you for decades. And now I look into the eyes I longed to see for so long - and am perceived by them in equal measure - and I am filled with nothing but shame, facing you like this, as such a hideous being."

You were shocked at this confession, red tint creeping up on your face, but his last words outraged you.

"Don't talk like that, you are not hideous."

"Look at me! Just being near you is enough to drive me mad, to grow my fangs. Look into my bloodthirsty eyes and tell me that I don't disgust you!"

You stared into his eyes, which were now indeed red again and caused the dark veins under his eyes to emerge.

"You are beautiful." you whispered and held his face in your hand. He gently pushed it away.

"I thirst for your blood. I have never tasted blood so addicting before. I am not human. I feed on them. How can I be beautiful to you? You should be afraid of me."

And suddenly a bow shot into your immediate vicinity. It was heading straight for you, but before it could hit you, Gojo caught it in his hand. You looked at him full of admiration, an expression that contrasted this dangerous situation.

"A vampire hunter." he explained, more to himself than to you, but still with the intention of enlightening you.

"How can I be afraid of someone who saves my life again and again?" you whispered to him. He looked at you briefly before picking you up by the back of your knees and armpits and carrying you away with quick steps. You have never experienced such speed before, the cool wind warm like steam compared to the arctic temperature of Gojo's pale body.

To be held by his strong grip, pushed against his frosty figure made you shiver from bliss, it felt like ice melting on your overheated skin, cooling you down; felt like he was capturing you in his entity, embracing and swallowing you wholly. And you had no objections, you would give yourself to him willingly, because it feels good, it feels ecstatic.

Before you could soak yourself in him further, he interrupted your thoughts.

"...I'll bring you back. When I'm gone, you'll think differently about me. Right now, my presence is just manipulating your inner self."

But that wasn't true. All the beautiful words he said to you, all of his generous actions kept you feeling like that. You yearned for him and it hurt every second that he hadn't come to see you for so long, now that he had awakened those feelings in you.

In an instant it was clear to you why he was so depressed. He thought your feelings weren't sincere, just a product of him being a vampire. He wanted to prove it to you so miserably, wanted to give up his own feelings for your safety and happiness.

Immediately and without a second thought you ran out of your apartment and into one familiar direction: the forest. If that's where vampires lure humans into, if that's where vampire hunters reside, then maybe it would bring you to him. It's just a theory, but it's based on his behaviour last time and that makes you feel positive. Why else would he have brought you into the woods?

You're lucky that the forest was not far away from your house, you only ran about 5 minutes until you were there. Snow covered your hair and shoulders when you arrived and you didn't know what to do now, coming here without a plan. The sun was setting slowly, so you hurried starting to walk deeper into the woods to look for any sign of his presence.

After a while, probably 30 minutes into your pursuit, you noticed that the day was slowly coming to an end. You were not brave enough to be alone in a forest at night, where - and you only thought about this now - there could be other vampires wandering around.

You were just turning into the direction you came from when you heard a noise. Something was coming towards you. Fast.

Before you could even turn around, you were cornered from the front. In front of you stood a huge wolf, its mouth with its gnashing teeth bigger than your own head, its growling loud and dangerous. At the sight you were filled with fear. You screamed reflexively while tears formed in your eyes. It prevented you from moving on, its legs were spread out to hold you in place.

Suddenly, another figure sprinted towards your position. Your pulse rose and you quickly regretted your decision to come here.

But to your surprise, it was the object of your little quest itself that was heading towards you. Soon, Gojo came out from between the trees and bushes, wrapped his arms around you and situated himself protectively in front of you, his back facing the wolf.

"She's not one of the hunters." he then called out to the wolf and its gaze softened as it watched you more closely. It looked as if it had confused you with someone else and quickly retreated.

Then Gojo finally turned his head to you, the moment you were waiting for. His beautiful face twisted in worry as he stroked yours with his thumb, examining your body to make sure you were unharmed.

"Are you okay?" he then asked and stared into your eyes with his usual intensity. You needed a moment to recover from the sight, briefly lost in his blue gaze, and answered him.

"I'm fine." you said, still a little shaken by the shock.

His face relaxed and he closed his eyes in relief before his eyebrows quickly drew together again.

"What are you doing out here, it's dangerous!" he exclaimed reprimandingly.

"I was looking for you..." you said quietly and your head sank in humiliation. This is the third time that Gojo saved your life. You felt so weak.

His gaze softened at your confession and his eyes widened from the warmth that flowed through him.

"You put yourself in danger for me?"

You looked away in embarrassment in response.

He smiled slightly before the look on his face darkened and he held you tightly to him, his hand pushing your head, his other arm pulling your body against him and his eyes pressed shut.

"Never do that again. I could never forgive myself if something happened to you." his voice cracked and you just stood there completely dumbfounded before you too began to wrap your hands around his torso. You stayed like that for a while, then Gojo took you by the hand and looked into the forest.

"We should get out of here before any more hunters come."

"Why are you here if it's so dangerous for you?" you asked thoughtfully.

"My estate is here. Far on the edge of the forest, they can't find their way there. Those who don't know the way get lost."

"Are they normal people?" was your next question, because now it was you who was worried about his well-being.

He smiled weakly to appease you.

"Yes, don't worry, they can't do much to me except decorating me with temporary wounds."

Then he continued.

"I said they're vampire hunters, but that's only half true. They hunt werewolves too."

"Wait, that was a werewolf? A human?" you were surprised, but now it made sense that he was so big and could understand Gojo.

Gojo nodded.

"Humans like to kill for pure entertainment - they see death as a kind of trophy. That's why the curse of the undead unleashed - to restore the balance."

You listened with interest and absorbed the new information. Then you asked another question, eager to learn more about this wondrous world that had been so closed to you until now.

"What about the werewolves, how do you get along? You're in the same boat after all, right?"

"We're not enemies, but we don't like each other very much either. Someone like me is unnatural to them, but they tolerate our existence. Well, to a certain extent at least. They understand the need for harmony."

You nodded in understanding and he let the subject rest.

"But now let's go." he said and picked you up on his back, his strong arms supporting your seat. You placed yours around his neck and couldn't help but notice his broad, muscular shoulders as well.

His back narrowed around his waist and his biceps flexed every once a while from carrying you. The part you touched with your hands and arms was hard and impressive beneath your fingertips, revealing to you his supernatural strength that was otherwise concealed beneath his princely appearance.

His body was your absolute desire. When you noticed that your legs were wrapped around his torso, you wondered what it would be like if you weren't sitting on his back but instead at the very front. The thought got you heated up and resulted in you squirming.

"Are you okay?" he asked genuinely, completely oblivious to your erotic thoughts.

You hid your face in his neck out of nervousness, muttered a small "yes" and he started the way back to your home with you as ballast. In this position you could smell his scent, it was a combination of sensual sweetness and manly musk and this mixture made your mouth salivate. Even though you enjoyed his company, you hoped the way back wouldn't last long because his effect on you seemed so embarrassing.

The next day, an unknown man came up and spoke to you. He was very broadly built and his muscles were clearly visible through the tight compression shirt. His massive chest looked like it was about to burst out at any moment. He also wore light gray loose pants around his waist. His hair was black, just like his shirt. A scar adorned his mouth and he had a smug expression on his face.

He introduced himself as Toji and it turned out that he was the werewolf from last night. He apologized profoundly and assured you that he never intended to scare such a beautiful girl. His flirtatious nature left you cold.

"I've come to warn you." he then said sternly, the sudden change startling you. You were curious to hear what he had to say.

"The man you've been with yesterday, do you know what he is?"

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Of course I do."

"Then you should understand that you better keep your distance."

You were speechless, but he kept talking.

"He's not human. You don't belong together, that's unnatural. Sooner or later he'll kill you, we both know that."

That made you angry.

"Oh, because werewolves are so natural! You were the one almost killing me yesterday, not him!"

"Touché." he smirked. "But at least I'm still human. You'd be better off with me."

Suddenly he wrinkled his nose in a sniffing manner. He looked down at your hand, an eye-catching ring attracting his attention. He grabbed your hand and took a closer look at it.

"He marked you."

You quickly pulled your hand out of his grasp before defending yourself.

"Listen, I don't know why you think that is any of your business, but it's not."

"It is my business because I'm worried about you."

"Don't bother, I'm fine."

"Alright." he held up his hands in retreat. "But don't say I didn't warn you. If you ever change your mind, my offer still stands." he smirked.

"No thanks, I refuse."

And then you left him alone.

"Good luck." he called after you.

When you met Gojo again later - he basically teleported himself back into your own four walls - he startled you. Would you ever get used to this?

"You smell like wolf." he discovered disapprovingly, looking at you rather annoyed.

"No hello?" you smiled to lighten the mood, but it was no use. His expression remained unchanged. You sighed and gave him an explanation.

After he listened to you, he stared out the window for a few minutes without saying a word, his head tilted to the side. You thought it best to switch topics.

"The ring you gave me yesterday...you said it would protect me, right?"

He narrowed his eyes.

"Yes, why? Did the wolf mention something?"

"He said you marked me. What does that mean?"

He remained silent for a moment and then sat down next to you on the couch.

"It's filled with my venom. It keeps predators away. But since it's not directly injected into your body, its effect is weaker. He probably smelled it." he explained.

You nodded. Now he too breathed in the surrounding scent through his nose. But he said nothing else.

He closed his eyes and sank back into thought. He almost looked...sad.

A few days passed without you seeing him. It was eating you up from the inside. Without him, all things lose their meaning. On the fifth day, you couldn't take it anymore. You gave him your word that you would never expose yourself to danger again. But this was an emergency. Why didn't he pay you a visit?

Maybe you were delusional, maybe you were out of your mind, but your feet brought you to the woods again.

The repetitive, barely distinguishable trees around you significantly weakened your sense of direction and made it harder for you to search for the attractive bloodsucker.

But once you turned around a corner on a path, you saw him, without his cloak and only clad in a white blouse that was not sewn up to his stomach and thus did not cover the middle of his chest. The last weak rays of sunlight in this snow-covered winter landscape colored his skin almost gold, almost transparent, so penetrable were they. It looked like the wet sand in the sea, illuminated by the hot reflection through the water.

But you noticed his absent-minded gaze - directed entirely towards the ground. And when suddenly the shadows of some branches made his body stop glowing and you could see his skin in its vulgar form, you could no longer believe your eyes. He was covered with several small wounds, it seemed as if they came from arrows. You quickly ran towards him and shouted his name.

At the sound of your troubling voice he looked up in shock. When you were in front of him he just looked at you blankly.

"You promised me you wouldn't do that." He was referring to you putting yourself in danger.

"How was I supposed to keep my promise without you at my side to remind me?" you replied angrily. "What happened to you? Why are you so hurt?"

He didn't bat an eyelid before answering.

"Go home. I don't want you to see me like this. Just forget about me."

A stab went through your heart and you immediately felt sick to your stomach.

"I could never do that. What's wrong with you? Why are you suddenly saying these ugly words to me that I don't want to hear?"

"We don't belong together. We should have never met. I'm the one to blame, but I won't let myself drag you into damnation any more."

"Damnation? Thanks to you, I've escaped it more than once! My life has never been better than when you joined it!" your arm shot out to the side to reinforce your argument. With this action, Gojo's focus slipped to the ring around your finger.

"Now it's my turn to help you. Let me treat your wounds." but he slapped your hand away, which was reaching out to him.

"I don't care about the wounds. They are a sign of my remorse." His gaze was still on your ring.

He laughed crazily.

"How easily his smell overpowers mine. It is as if it was just natural that you belong together."

You were confused.

"What are you talking about?"

"The werewolf. Or as you know him, 'Toji'." he managed to say. "He is interested in you. I could sense it." he then spat out, the newly found information taking you by surprise.

"I- I don't care. I am not interested in him. He is pushy and bold and irritat-" At that, Gojo interrupted you.

"Pushy? Did he do something to you?" Gojo's eyes filled with anger. You shook your head and you felt relief coming over him.

"I don't particularly like him. But he is right, you shouldn't be with someone like me. You deserve a better life."

"Did he tell you that?" You got mad. What was he thinking, always interfering your affairs?

"He came to me a few days ago and brought me to my senses. He said that I should let go of you for your own well-being, that you don't belong in this world and that I shouldn't put you in danger for selfish reasons. And I agree with him. I'm sorry for all the trouble that I've caused you. It was never my intention to hurt you."

"Bullshit! He doesn't know anything about us, about you! You want to leave me because some stranger advised you to? You're hurting me more with that than anything else ever could!"

"Don't you think I want to stay with you too?" he shouted a little louder. You flinched. "But I can't." He articulated the last part more quietly, his eyes squeezed shut in agony.

"Why not?" you asked, tears welling up in your eyes.

"Because you're destined for the wolf."

The knot in your chest only tightened.

"You can't decide that! I decide about my own life and you should do the same! What do you want, Gojo?"

Then he grabbed you by the collar, his teeth clenched in desperation.

"You wanna know what I want?"

"Yes." you whined out and his hands trembled.

Then his broad, long hands landed on both sides of your neck, his thumbs at your chin, and he pulled you closer to him. His grip was firm but gentle, he didn't apply unnecessary pressure, but he still seemed upset.

"I want to possess you and I want to be possessed by you. Do you even know how intensely I feel for you? I would love to mark you properly so that you belong to me, so that it is my scent that sticks to you. But that would be selfish, wouldn't it?" he professed, your lips almost grazing against each other, which quickly made you blush and quicken your already rapid beating heart. Everytime you were near him, you felt like it was beating out of your chest.

"Do it then. It's not selfish if I want you to. Mark me. Bite me. I am already yours."

You noticed the black veins forming on his dark circles at your words but before they were completed, he forcefully suppressed them and turned his head away from you.

"You don't know what you're asking for."

"Yes I do! I want it! So go on!"

"Do you know what you're asking for? You're not just mere food to me. I could never live with the knowledge that I've taken away your normal life. Don't make me do something that would make me despise myself."

"But you already have. Since you came into my life, I have not been the same and I am glad about that! And take a look at you, you're still alive. Why won't you understand how dear you are to me..."

He looked at you fondly and softly called out your name, whispering, almost inaudible if you were not so close to him.

"Please don't leave me alone when I can't find you on my own. I would seek you every day and willingly put myself in danger, all just to see you again. Nothing can stop me, not my promise and not you. Because then my promise would no longer be valid anyways."

His eyes widened in utter surprise.

"Stubborn, aren't we?" he sighed defeatingly.

"Then promise me one thing. Don't ever get near the woods again if I'm not with you."

"Only if you promise me to never talk about parting ways ever again."

He smiled warmly.

"Alright." he complied. Then he pulled you into a hug and pressed your head against his cheek, holding you tight.

"You must be cold. Come on, let's go to my estate, you can warm up there."

You nodded, but remembered something else.

"Your wounds! Let me take care of you first!"

"Already taken care of." he showed you his arm that was full of injuries before. "See? I told you they're no real threat to me. I heal pretty quickly."

You sighed in relief and with that, you two set off.

Gojo's property stretched out somewhere far behind the forest. The black fence in front of it matched the gloomy house behind it. You didn't even know that this place existed, but Gojo said himself that it was impossible to find if you didn't already know the way.

The roof of the house towered far above the tall trees. It looked stable, but lonely and, admittedly, a little scary. The branches of the surrounding trees seemed even sharper than in the forest, they reminded of barbed wire. There were many thorn bushes in the garden of the house, on them lived roses.

The door squeaked loudly when opened and banged even louder when closed. Everything was dark inside, only a few candles allowed you to perceive your general surroundings. If you didn't know better, you would be pretty scared. But then all of a sudden, the whole house became bright and you could see the elegant chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A long staircase spread out in front of you, covered with a red carpet. On the wall to the left you could see a fireplace, on the right a sofa. The room was large, but according to Gojo it was the entrance hall and therefore the least comfortable room.

He took you up to his bedroom and the rich furniture made your jaw drop to the floor. With its own fireplace and the many candlesticks, it seemed very warm and inviting, the complete opposite of your first impression of the outer building. The windows were big and long and decorated with velvet curtains.

This room was also very large, in the middle of it a round brown wooden table with matching chairs and a porcelain vase on its head and on the wall by the door was another sofa.

The bed was so huge that you would think 4 people could sleep in it - and that without having to suffer from a lack of space, the mattress was very soft and the covers very expensive. In front of the bed and therefore also in front of the fireplace, which was on the opposite side, was an embroidered carpet. Everything in this house seemed very expensive. Next to the right nightstand of the bed was a door that was half open and as you entered the room you could see that it was a bathroom.

Then Gojo spoke.

"Sorry, I'm not used to guests, but I hope you still feel comfortable here."

"That's no problem, I like your decor. It's so old-fashioned, but in a good way! When did you last have visitors here?" you asked out of pure curiosity and waved your finger over the flame of a candle.

"You're the first." he said bluntly, a tingling sensation overflowing you at his statement.

The sound of heavy rain unexpectedly interrupted you and you both stared at the window.

"It's pouring outside..." Gojo said and you hummed in response.

"If you want, you can stay overnight..." he suggested carefully. He felt your blood pressure rise.

"Uhm...I have a guest room of course." he clarified.

The heat rose to your head at the thought of sleeping in the same house as Gojo, but you approved of that idea.

"G-Gladly." you stumbled over your words.

Gojo looked around to escape the brief awkwardness between you. Then something occurred to him.

"You're welcome to take a bath, it will warm you up. I'll run the water for you."

You nodded shyly and thanked him, then he disappeared into the bathroom. When the bath was ready, he gave you towels and a piece of folded clothing. When you unfolded them, you noticed that it was a white nightgown. Your white nightgown that had been lying on your dresser for years because you wanted to take it to the tailor. Your face instantly turned red and he couldn't completely hide his nervousness either.

"I hope this doesn't seem creepy, but I found it and had it adjusted."

You looked at the dress and noticed that it was actually longer. The sleeves also had multiple layers from the elbows down.

"I hope that wasn't too insolent of me, but I saw it lying around for a long time and thought it would be a shame to keep leaving it there..."

Your inability to get the dress adjusted yourself made you feel ashamed, but at the same time you were so happy to finally be able to put on this old dress.

"No, it's perfect. Thank you." you said, overjoyed, and gave him a smile.

"Okay, I'll leave you on your own then. I'm sure you know how a bathroom works." he shook his head at his own utterance.

"Take your time." he ended eventually and closed the door behind him.

The bathtub was much bigger than a normal one and had many ornaments on the faucet as well as on the feet. The details in the bathroom were impressive - it almost seemed as if you were in a castle. The water was covered in foam and... rose petals? And on the windowsill next to the tub, many candles of different sizes lit up the room. The window was not transparent, but made of colored glass, like those in a church.

After taking some time to relax, you got dressed. When you entered the room, Gojo was nowhere to be found. So you decided to wander through the house and look for him.

The hallways were decorated with many paintings and you suddenly smelled the scent of fresh food. You went down the stairs and entered the room you guessed the smell was coming from.

Gojo was standing in the kitchen, he was preparing something and it looked delicious. You quietly sat down on a stool at the kitchen island, facing Gojo.

"Hey, enjoyed your shower?"

You nodded.

"You must be hungry, I prepared something for you. I'm not the best cook though." he said embarrassedly and scratched his ear. Butterflies formed in your stomach at this attentive gesture. He cooked spaghetti with tomato sauce just for you.

"I hope you like it."

You tried the food and he watched you eagerly.

"Mh! It's good!" you said with your mouth full and nodded supportively. A spaghetti stuck to your chin and the sauce on it turned it red even after you had successfully sucked it up into your mouth. Gojo laughed.

"Now you look like the bloodsucker." he grinned and wiped the stain away.

Your heart beat faster at his touch.

"Don't you eat human food at all?" you asked. He shook his head.

"My body is unable to tolerate it. That's why I hardly use the kitchen."

After dinner he showed you the guest room. It was smaller than his, but still cozy. He lit the fireplace and then you said goodnight to each other shyly.

"Well then, the fireplace is on and there's enough wood in it. If anything's wrong, you can always come to me." You smiled tiredly at him before relaxing your face again. You both stared at each other expectantly. Then he broke eye contact.

"Alright...Sweet dreams." he said and waited for a reaction before he closed the door. You looked after him quietly and nodded slightly. When he closed the door, you threw yourself onto the bed and let out the breath you held in. You were feeling so much for him, you were basically on cloud nine. He was so helpful, so good, so pure, so genuine and so SO handsome. He was truly perfect.

You spent some time gushing over him when you began to notice the chilly atmosphere in the room. You turned your head to the side and learned the reason behind it.

The window was broken, its handle not being able to close it. Rain was pouring in and the wind quickly ceased the fire. You didn't think twice and knocked on Gojo's door. When you entered, he was sitting on his bed shirtless, puzzled by the sudden intrusion. His back was leaning against the bedframe, he had a pair of silky pajama pants around his hips and was fiddling with his stomach. There you saw a large wound.

"Your stomach..." your eyes widened in shock. You thought all of his injuries had already healed - at least that's what he pretended.

"Ah, that's no problem, really. The regeneration just takes longer because it's bigger. But don't worry, I'm not in any pain."

He immediately stood up and distracted you by asking what was wrong. You hesitated first, but after you voiced your problem, he apologized thoroughly.

"I'm so sorry, I can't apologize enough. You can take my bed of course. I don't need sleep anyway and if I do want to, I'll go to the guest room. The cold doesn't bother me after all."

"No, please stay...I don't want to throw you out of your own bed."

Lies. You just wanted to share one with him.

He gawked at you flabbergasted,

"Aw, are you that eager to share a bed with me?" Now he was getting cocky.

"Yes." you answered firmly, knowing it would catch him off guard to give him a taste of his own medicine.

When you both laid down, you were silent - staring up at the ceiling and keeping a certain distance from one another. Your heart raced in your chest, unneeded as Gojo didn't reach out to you once in any way. The whole night, nothing happened.

The next Monday, Toji bothered you again. He was in the middle of explaining to you why you two were "the better match" when you interrupted him, annoyed.

“For someone so insistent on harmony, you sure do disrupt other people's lives pretty often."

“Listen. We wolves feel very quickly and, if so, very intensely. This is called imprinting. When I looked into your eyes back then, I could already see our whole future together. I knew straight away that we were meant for each other.”

"Do you wolves also consider the partner's feelings? Or does consent not exist with you?"

"Ah, just look at that temper, so fierce, you'd fit in so well."

"My temper depends on my counterpart. And I don't think I would, considering I would be mad constantly then. That sure wouldn't be good for my health."

"But surrounding yourself with parasites that thirst for your life is good for your health?" he snorted.

You got mad.

"He is not a parasite, you are! The only one molesting me with such ridiculous fantasies is you, and let me tell you one thing: they will never be reality. I despise you from the bottom of my heart for talking about him like that, he is so much better, greater and more human in every sense of the word. Next time you try to pursuit a woman, try be more romantic and less demanding. But forget about me."

With that you left, your pulse way too high. The only one who could put your mind at ease was Satoru. Oh, just thinking about him made you feel lightweighted enough to just float in the air. When you were together, that's when you felt at peace.

Your heart started to calm down when your eyes met him - as much as it could with the usual reason of your racing heart beat right in front of you.

When he sniffed this familiar scent again, you promised to explain what had happened once you arrived at your destination.

Gojo took you on a mountain, far above the city where you've never been to. The soft clouds were grey from the season and the sky prepared for it's upcoming rain. You looked down onto the city and couldn't believe how small it seemed.

You both lay down on the slightly wet grass, looking up into the endless firmament over you.

When you told him the story, he gave you even more insight into the life of the undead.

"We vampires also bind ourselves to a partner for life." he started. You shifted in your place for your eyes to focus on him, expecting him to continue. Your shoulders grazed one another now, but he took his time, hesitating a little.

"Many vampires die of a broken heart because they get the short end of the stick. They become suicidal or suffer for the rest of their lives. Even after the death of their partner, it doesn't stop. Because often they are not the predestined person for the one that's meant for them. It's only logical when you look at the fact that our lifetimes weren't intended to meet each other. That's a side effect of the curse. We are not actually entitled to love, because we shouldn't exist under normal circumstances."

You jumped up, entrusting all of your bodyweight to your right hand that supported you on the ground. Was this why he let all those arrows pierce through him after deciding on withdrawing from your life? Was he planning to commit suicide too?

"Of course you are entitled, just like everyone else! You have a right to exist, otherwise you wouldn't exist in the first place! If there really is something like fate, then it includes all of the anomalies of nature. You deserve to find happiness, Satoru."

He weakly smiled at you, getting up too now, standing while looking up in silence. You looked up too, up to him. There was no reason to look at the sky when heaven was right in front of you.

As you waited for some slight movement of his, the sudden strong wind blew through your hair and you quickly tucked it behind your ear before standing up as well, situating yourself next to Gojo.

"You are the purest form of nature." he then declared. You felt your face heating up at that.

"You are my human. You are my chosen one."

he turned his head to you know, your eyes displaying a longing of such fervour you both held/raised for so long now.

"And you are mine, Satoru." you muttered quietly.

Your heartbeat fastened when you saw his hands coming up to your face, placing them on both sides of your cheeks. Satoru looked at you through half-lidded eyes, lips contorted into a soft smile. You closed your eyes, and then you felt it. His lips on yours. It was a sensation like no other, he was tender in the way he moved his mouth against yours, the smooth pink flesh dancing around yours like they knew each other, mastering the choreography of your mutual love, giving and taking in all you could. Your hands found his strong chest on their way to his neck you snaked them around, resting them and pulling him in even more at the same time.

The coldness coating him only intensified the fluttering wings of the butterflies in your stomach, pressing your contrasting temperatures against each other while blending them into something entirely of their own.

You felt dizzy, your lips prickling as if they got more and more plump by each second. Your whole body concentrated on that one point, that small spot that touched him.

What came over you next - apart from the hurried declarations - was the rain. You both pulled away momentarily, letting the drops fall onto your bodies without a care in the world, only to laugh at your love being practically watered by mother nature, flourishing it and blooming as you simultaneously leaned in for another kiss.

How lucky you felt in this moment to have the privilege of feeling him, of being felt by him. You were sure you were the happiest person on earth.

But even the merriest of moments come to an end, because when the storm raged, you agreed that it would be best to leave, a place that high is not really advantageous when facing a storm.

He took you to his place again, tucking you into a warm blanket and seating you in front of the chimney in his room. He then told you that he had to take care of something and would come back as soon as possible, and to make yourself at home.

He came back about fourty minutes later and he looked paler than usual. You asked him about it, but he just shove it off, telling you he would tell you another time. You didn't want to be too pushy and decided to leave it for now.

You slept in the same bed again this night, and this time, you embraced each other's bodies, caressing your skins while talking about your lives and memories. Gojo told you that he has lived for 411 years and this information made your mouth drop. He laughed. He had such a pretty laugh.

It was sensual, you in his arms and the way his icy fingertips stroked your arm. You did the same, caressing his torso. When you brushed his side for a moment, he slightly winced in pain. It didn't go unnoticed by you. You stared up at him first, then down to where you accidentally touched him.

"You still have this wound?" You immediately sat up. He cursed himself for making you notice.

"Don't worry, I'm okay." he smiled, but it was a fake one. He was definitely in pain.

"I thought you said your wounds would close on their own..." you questioned, inspecting the wound closely.

"They do, but only if I consume a meal." he admitted.

"Meal as in...?" you started, insinuating human blood. He nodded.

"But don't worry. I don't intend to. I will figure it out somehow."

"Bite me." you confidently proposed, but he was not having it.

"Never. I'd rather die."

"You need blood and I have it. If you don't drink anything soon, who knows what will happen. I won't let you die because you refuse to eat!"

"Eat you!" he clarified, a little angry about your carelessness.

"Is that why you left earlier? Because you were in so much pain that you had to hide from me?"

He was silent. You were speechless.

"...Not only that, but it was a part of it."

You didn't understand.

"What does this mean?" you asked and he wanted to brush it off.

Then, you suddenly kissed him and it surprised him so much that he let out a small and quiet moan.

"I don't want to lose you."

Another kiss.

He slowly joined in, kissing you back each time your lips met.

"You won't lose me." he said, shifting. You thought he did that to switch positions, but he actually stood up to leave the room.

"I'll sleep in the guest room. Have a good night, I'll see you tomorrow." he said and headed for the door.

"So you're just leaving me?" you asked, but no reaction from him.

"Why don't you trust me?" you then asked louder, furrowing your brows. He immediately stopped in his tracks.

"I trust you. Do you think I'm so fragile? I don't know why you would want to be with someone you consider weak."

He turned around, placing his knees on the end of the bed, his arms supporting him on the mattress, a position that enabled him to leave quickly again. One of his hands reached out to your hair and he it petted it gently.

"I don't think you're weak. But you're weaker than me, and that's enough to be cautious."

"But you don't trust me. And apparently you don't trust yourself. Why do you turn me down everytime when all I want to do is feel you in every sense of the word?"

He didn't know what to say, so you continued.

"I don't know why you're so hesitant when this was what saved me back then, so let it save you now. Why don't you treat yourself the same way you treat me?"

"Because you are so much more dear to me than my own, cursed life. Although it is less cursed with you in it."

"If I said the same thing, what would your reaction be?"

"..."

"Exactly. I trust you, Satoru, with all my heart. So just get a grip and drink from me and stop punishing yourself for simply existing! You're 411 years old for god's sake, someday you have to accept your life!"

This time it was him who kissed you - wildly, passionately, emotionally. As if for the first time in his life, someone had acknowledged Satoru's worth - apart from the picture that the world had seen.

Satoru slowly crawled to you, taking you into his embrace while keeping his mouth occupied with your pretty lips.

"You really want me to suck the blood out of your body so bad?" He said between a kiss, dragging his face down to your neck and brushing it with his nose while you moaned, letting out a small "mhmm" in approval.

"I know you will stop at the right time, don't even try to tease me." you said in a weak attempt to appear strong, to stand your ground, but you were getting inevitably weak, sinking into the exciting sensation that was Satoru Gojo.

He chuckled deeply, kissing over your neck and nibbling on it teasingly before shamelessly making out with it.

"Stop teasing." you whined while growing aroused, body heat increasing at his hot smooches.

He only forced your body against him harder, beefy arms fully engulfing you. You felt his powerful muscles against your front with the way his hefty body pressed into yours and you couldn't resist him anymore, groping his ripped shoulders desperately.

He shoved you in his lap and you whimpered, growing excited more and more with the way he devoured you.

"You're so-"

He kissed your ear.

"Incredibly-"

Then your neck.

"Stubborn."

And with the last word, he went even further down - his chin lowered the fabric of your nightgown just a little - and planted a kiss on your chest.

"Want me to drink from you? Alright, your wish is my command. But first I'll take care of your own needs." he then grumbled, growing needier himself.

"Satoru, please, I want you." You cried and he groaned at the sound.

"I'm going crazy over you." he added.

"I just want to devour you whole. Make you go crazy for me too" His sexual hint made you buck your hips against his, feeling wetter and wetter with each second. Saying "I already am." made him groan even louder.

He gently but hastily pushed up your nightgown to your waist, grazing his fingers over your throbbing clit. He played with it for a while, making you moan out loud and furrow your eyebrows until he pushed your panties aside to get to the real thing.

"You're so wet already. All for me?"

You nodded in response when his hand wandered through your folds, not able to form any words from the fast beating and heart in your chest. He continued stroking your clit with his thumb, while his fingers worked their way to your core.

"I'll be sure to cherish it then."

That's when two of his fingers slide in and you couldn't help but jump up from the unexpected but more than welcomed intrusion. You whined like you never knew you could and Satoru enjoyed every second of it, fingering your hole at a slow but steady pace first before speeding up his movements.

It was too much even for him, that's why he smoothly pushed you on the mattress and went down on you, licking and slobbering between your folds until he rolled his eyes back in a delirious state. You gasped at the sudden nudge and gasped even more when you felt his tongue penetrating your inner walls.

"This is my new favorite meal from now on."

You rolled back your eyes as he took you higher and when you came for the first time, you and him moaned in unison, him being so turned on by you that his own swelling bulge nearly threatened to drill a hole into his pants.

"Oh my god!" you screamed, completely breathless as Satoru rode out your high.

"Feel good?" he asked and licked his fingers clean, in disbelief once again at how good you taste. But he received an answer he did not expect.

"Yes, oh Satoru, I love you!" you exhaled in bliss and his eyes widened, his heart twitched and his pants tightened.

You had both confessed your feelings already, but none of you dared to speak out those three words. And it made him go absolutely feral.

Without a second thought, he got rid of both of your clothes, departing from another shortly before he dragged you down his lap again, sitting directly in front of his cock. He groaned when he saw your bare body for the first time.

"Look at you, so absolutely perfect. Don't you show any mercy in seducing me like this?" His fingers started fondling your breasts, rubbing at your sensitive nipples while amazedly taking in the sight of you further.

And you, for the first time too saw him in all his glory. And he was huge. Huge and surprisingly very pretty, his bright pink tip was leaking solid amounts precum already and for some reason it looked so scrumptious that you just wanted to lick it off.

His balls looked heavy, but the skin of the whole area looked so flawless and the few thick veins that decorated his shaft throbbed when it accidentally met your skin. All in all, it made the same impression as Gojo's body in general - delicate, but burly.

The new and unfamiliar kind of contact made tingles spread in all of your limbs, enjoying the incredible experience. You felt his protruding girth directly under your entrance and you felt wobbly just by the thought of him inserting himself.

"I have to have you." he growled, eyes half-lidded and impatient as he moved his hand all over your body.

"Then take me." you simply said. And you didn't have to say it twice.

In one motion, Gojo placed you directly over his bulbous head, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it while luring you onto him. He began to carefully but eagerly glide you down on him and once you felt the stretch, you both let out a deep moan.

He was really thick, but his length was even longer and when he warily invaded your space, he let you get used to him and waited for your approval to go further. In the meantime he made you feel so treasured with the way his hands worked against your skin, how his slight touches swayed and whirled around almost ticklishly to console you through it all and how his eyes not only sparkled with desire but deep rooted devotion - that's how attentive he was, as if he would touch something sacred, something holy. And to him, you were a saint.

After a few moments, when you consented, he began to move inside of you, increasing his rhythm bit by bit. And god, was it euphoric, the way he bounced you on top of him as if you weighed nothing.

His thrusts were relentless, he pulled you in as if he wanted you to mold into each other. With every poke against your sweet spot - that he found so effortlessly - it felt as if you were one, as if you were becoming a single entity and you could feel everything the other felt.

The constant ram of his hips and his powerful arms caging you against him made you see stars soon and that's it when kicked in.

"M-mark me." you whined and his attention was on your words, caught off guard for a second before asking you one last question.

"A-are you...hngh...are you sure?" And you just nodded, pushing him by the back of his head so that he was in front of your neck. You leaned to the side to make space for him, so that he could settle between your head and shoulders and with one last look into your eyes, he hesitantly obliged.

He was so careful when he sank his teeth into you and it burned, the sting aching and pulsating, but you clenched your teeth and let it happen.

For Gojo it was heaven, he drank you up as if it would be his last meal, as if he hadn't eaten for a decade. He stopped his powerful thrusts for a second, basking in that feeling for a split second before he picked up his speed again and soon turned into a moaning, whimpering mess.

His eyes widened and were turned red again, the veins under them popped out, an expression on his face like he was about cry.

He thrusted and thrusted and sucked and thrusted and it did a hundred things to you, because soon, you found pure pleasure in it. He took from you but gave you something in return, releasing his venom inside of you. The sweet exchange made you basically melt into each other, relishing in the transcendental joy of absorbing one another.

It was ecstatic. It felt like the highest high possible, the way you gave in to him, quenching his thirst for blood and for you.

With every sip of his, the thrusts began to feel even more overwhelming, more intense than before, a downright assault on your walls, as if there was a place behind that he tried to get into.

It was addictive, as addictive as your stream of blood was to Gojo when he probably drank a little too much from you, considering how close you were to passing out. But it was that combination of pleasure and blood loss taking you to heaven and back, feeling as if you were drunk off of him, not the other way around. And you just smiled in pure bliss, looking a little insane with the way your eyes rolled back. You felt so lightheaded, as if you floated in the air, unconscious to everything but the satisfaction he provided you with.

And he gulped and groaned and gasped and pounded into you, his neediness palpable in his greedy grips that went up and down your body hastily, before you both reached your peaks at the same time and he stopped.

When he released inside of you, the liquid felt frosty to the point it made you shudder. You were shaking, feeling like his seed cooled you down from your own orgasm, goosebumps spreading on your body while he rode out both of your highs.

The chilly feeling vanished once the venom started spreading through your body, replacing the former weakness with newfound energy, filling your body with the power of regeneration. And when you looked at Satoru, he seemed so much more healthy, so much more glowing, saturated from his latest feast.

"You're all marked up now." hearing him announce his claim on you made your face flush and your insides twitch in excitement. Never before have you been this satisfied.

But it wasn't enough. For the both of you it wasn't enough. No, the night was still young and Gojo couldn't resist to push you down the mattress desperately, intertwining his fingers with yours as he placed your hands next to your head, rolling his hips once again.

The next months were full of Satoru, Satoru, Satoru. You could also put a "you" in front of the verb of the last sentence, because you made love to each other like you were bunnies. But it wasn't just the hot vampire sex that kept you satiated, it was the way he cared for you, the way he held you in his arms after, embracing you fully after wiping you clean with a wet towel, the way he would take you on new adventures, showing you places you didn't knew existed, telling you stories you've never heard. You explored and experienced the depths of the world - and each other.

And he was ready to show you one of those depths of his, bringing you to the backyard of his mansion one day to show you the big graveyard that was based there.

"This is a place of peace for all the people whose deaths I have on my conscience, all the people I have already killed during my existence. I built it as a way for me to show remorse, although I know that it doesn't condone my acts."

You furrowed your brows in sympathy, grateful that he opened up and shared this sensitive information with you.

"That's also where I went off to when I left you that one night. I accepted my wounds as a punishment for all my sins. I was torn between begging them to finally release me from my misery or begging for forgiveness to stay with you. I thought I was ready to perish until I met you. Finally finding you gave my life the purpose it yearned for so long." he cleared up, looking at the tombstones in front of you.

"You have such a good heart, Satoru. Building this place for them to rest and never be forgotten on your very own property shows that."

He let out a small laugh and turned to you.

"Do you feel this?" he took your hand and placed it in the middle of his chest.

"Your heart?" you asked.

He shook his head.

"It died a long time ago, but it started beating again for you. My heart is all yours. My love and life, they both belong to you." You knew he wasn't speaking literally but metaphorically.

Your eyes warmed up to him when he continued.

"I think that night was their answer, a sign of mercy when you offered yourself to me. My atonement will be protecting your precious life, the one that I'll save in return for the hundreds I took."

You quickly hugged him, tears swelling down your cheeks.

"I will take care of you too, Satoru. It won't be one-sided, I promise. I'll rescue you as many times as I have to."

He chuckled lowly, thankful for your sentiment before taking you into his embrace. He tightened his grip and kissed your temple, furrowing his brows when teardrops glimmered onto you.

You stood there for a while, relishing in the sheer intimacy of the moment.

One of the places Gojo surprised you with was a sea in the middle of the woods, far away from the curious eyes of anyone except the peaceful animals living around.

You've been here twice before, but the winter months have been to cold for you to enjoy your stay and Gojo was so worried over you - not feeling the cold himself - that he promised you to take you there again when the temperatures would rise again.

That time was now. It was a lovely spring night when you two found yourself alone at the abandoned spot.

Gojo bathed in the sea, naked and the water almost reaching his hips. He looked up at the moon, admiring it. And you, you were admiring him from afar, getting rid of your clothes too as he was waiting for you.

He shimmered under the moon as if absorbing and reflecting its light at once, flawless skin reminding you of nacre, rivaling mother-of-pearl. His eyes radiated with the same colour as the sea in the moonlight, and when you finally into the water and walked up to him, you realized that, although the brightness of the moon shone beautifully on the water, his shining white hair stood out to you, like a lamp guiding you through the darkness.

It felt like magnetism how you were pulled to each other, none of you capable of breaking the force, none of you wanting to. It was straight up torture whenever you had to separate, is it as if you belonged with each other, you were soulmates - there was nothing and no one in the world who could cut the invisible string of your deep connection.

When he heard the water splash behind him from your movements, he turned around, his lips went up to a bright, genuine smile. He snaked his arms around your smaller figure and rested his chin on the top of your head, eyes closing for a bit before contently looking into the distance. The time stood still whenever you were close, it was just him and you in this big world. Satoru Gojo was happy. He was thankful. And, most importantly, he was on cloud nine.

He couldn't help but start to get a little aroused at your loving fingers massaging all over his skin, his hardened member visible to you. When your hand moved down, that's what piqued his interest.

You teasingly went down, touches so light, barely even reaching him so that he grew more tempted. You grazed past his chest and stopped at his abdomen.

He watched your hand sliding around his pulsating erection and he inhaled, holding his breath, a pearly substance decorating the tip already, making you squeeze your legs at this delicious sight.

You grabbed it strongly, squeezing it a little before jerking him off. His moaned and groaned at the sensations turned out to be not enough for you - no, you wanted a taste of him. And so you kneeled down and wrapped your pretty lips around his length.

You made him go insane by bobbing your head up and down his shaft, stroking whatever didn't fit into your mouth with one hand and fondling his balls with the other while he lost his mind over you.

The way you seemed to enjoy it even more than him set him on fire, so he quickly lifted you up, forcefully throwing you onto his cock, sheathing himself deep inside of you, mumbling something about it "being not enough" and "needing more". It was safe to say that this happened with your consent, he would never do anything against your will, but the signals you gave him - and he was very familiar with them by now - convinced him that you did.

You let out a pleased wail at the sudden intrusion and he started digging his claws into your thighs, nails prodding in your flesh to move you impossibly closer, throwing his head back into his neck. When he started his unforgiving pace, a naughty idea came to your mind. You bit the inside of your palm hard enough to draw blood and planted the wound directly on his mouth. Gojo's eyes widened at the flavor, completely unprepared. His erotic mewls broke the silence.

"Drink up, handsome." you said and he growled, rolling back his eyes and rearranging your guts a tad more while drinking from the source on your palm.

You both reached your highs pretty quickly, considering your intense intercourse. When he released his cool semen into your womb, it was only then that you felt fulfilled. He was gushing out such amounts that it made your insides feel sticky and you took immense pride in that.

But you had no time coming back to your senses because he was not done with you, practically teleporting you to the rock nearby and caging you against it, already aiming for round two. With him, it was never just one round, too obsessed with you and the way you feel to stop so soon.

You spent much time and happy days loving each other. But time wasn't infinite.

So why, when you were so happy and fulfilled, did you have to leave him?

Why did you betray him?

And how dared you dying on him? To protect him from the arrow that was meant to hit him?

You broke your promise and he fell victim to his sins again, blaming himself for your death and never before did he feel so envious of someone. That's the endcome the werewolf warned him of and he was stupid to not believe him. He should have never trusted you, oh, how blinded he was from love. He would make sure to never make a mistake like this again, abstaining from every joy, never pursuing any dreams again, because you were his only wish, and dreams turn into nightmares.

Cursed to live the life you paved for him - without the life that kept him alive. Not being allowed to follow you into the afterlife, not daring to let your sacrifice be wasted, his kind not even able to reach the same beyond anyways. You were an angel that belonged in heaven, he a creature of the night, property of the underworld.

A picture of you forever adorned his windowsill, the clear glass behind it displaying the very graveyard you, now, rested on too. And Satoru Gojo was, once again, all alone in this world, eternally torturing himself for his crimes and mourning his only beloved.

Whewww, I started writing this at the beginning of September but then I went on vacation. But I'm proud of myself for finishing it before halloween! I hope you like it, let me know what you all think!

I dedicate this story to a friend of mine who told me she craved a vamp!gojo fic and I agreed, starting the story the exact same day. This will probably never reach her though, since she doesn't know I have this blog :P

Not an english native and not proofread yet, so sorry for that.

(I hope someone actually reads it, it's so longgg 😭)

297 notes · View notes

sugarwarachan · 2 months ago

Text

andy's notes: a little vampire!getou in the morning to try and unclog the writer's block drain

the length of your body curls against getou's in the dark. he can hear the rumbling pulse of your heart slugging through your veins. it beats off a steady percussion in his dead chest.

he tightens a hand on your hip, pulling you closer. you try to stifle your sharp inhale, but getou catches it, hears the frustration contained within it. longing, hot and fierce, surges in him. venom pools in the back of his throat, fangs aching in his gums.

your neck is just below his mouth. he watches the thrum of blood beneath your skin and moves his lips to the base of your neck. you reward him with another delicious gasp when he gently tongues your nape, teeth scraping ever so slightly.

"are you frightened?"

he knows the truth, what with you melted against him, but seeing you shake your head and whimper pleases him all the same.

"i'll need your word on that, won't i?"

"i'm not scared," you say, voice husky and soft in the dark. if possible, it makes his cock even harder to know that you are falling apart beneath his hands.

"good." he collars the front of your throat, his lips a cool tickle against your ear. "are you now?"

you shake your head, a soft whimper escaping. "am i not supposed to like this?

getou's forearm cages your waist. he's hard as stone behind you.

"like what, darling?"

"that you're going to drink from me. that i thought of you when i wanted to cum exactly as you are now, hands wrapped around my throat, teeth at the nape of my neck."

venom coats his tongue; he hovers over your pulse point, a hair's breadth away. you bring your hand to his, like benediction, like prayer.

take, those hands say.

so he does.

#really need to up my monster fucking game #because that's all I read lmao #vampire au #jjk x reader #jjk #geto suguru #getou suguru x reader #getou x reader #getou suguru smut #getou suguru x you #getou suguru x y/n #suguru x reader #suguru smut #suguru x you #jjk suguru #getou suguru #jjk au #jjk imagines #sugarwarachanwrites

71 notes · View notes

lavendermatchastrife · 15 days ago

Text

Vampire Hunter…G?

warnings: 18+ mdni, vampires, blood, sexual content, country bumpkin!reader, dhampir!geto, postapocalyptic au, pining, swearing, assault, violence, oral fixation, rough sex, supernatural themes, geto is a beautiful man, he’s like if a woman and a woman had a baby

word count: idk like 13k+

pairing: geto suguru x reader

summary: after being attacked by a noble, you seek out a vampire hunter to aid you in killing the damn thing

a/n: I recently saw vampire hunter d on the big screen for the anniversary for the first time in yearsssss, you can say I was a little inspired

It’s the year 12,090. After the planet was ravaged by a devastating nuclear war, life on earth was driven nearly towards extinction. Despite hundreds of years passing by, post global war, humans experienced primitive levels of poverty and relied on scavenging and hiding for survival. Seeing the decline in the overall population, ancient beings rose up from the shadows to rule over the desperate and dying human race. Vampires, of noble sorts, took over the world and restored a semblance of order. They’d brought back certain technology, something humans thought was once lost, adapted and brought new advances in their wake. There was a shift in the world, an era of peace it hadn't seen in a terribly long time. Comfortability settled in the bones of every human at last as vampires resided as lords in exchange for human blood. However, peace could only be for so long, and over time eventually even the vampires began to disappear and die off. In their desperation to preserve their way of life, they hid in the depths. Now in hiding, hunting when they saw fit and keeping amongst themselves to preserve whatever honor and dignity they had left. Especially considering the emergence of hunters and mutants as a result of mutations from the post apocalyptic-world.

It was a typical night, maybe just a tad drearier than normal. Humidity filled your lungs and danced across your skin, as droplets of sweat gathered on your brow. The air was thick, a dense fog overtook the fenced in farmland. The skies promised rain, as clouds overtook its expanse. It steadily drenched the once serene sunset into a sea of thick navy. A stillness followed as the evening poured in, all signs of life seeming to cease instantly. No crickets, no chirping, no rustling. The leaves appeared to be frozen in place, the only sounds were your controlled breaths. You were out patrolling, securing the border of your property for any immediate danger before powering up your heavy shields. You owned the latest weaponry, something imported. It was expensive, heavy, it had the smell of new metal and something burnt when you would fire it. You were used to guns with torching projectiles, lasers, swords even; yet you would still be amazed at the advances that would find their way to your sleepy town. It reminded you of how far behind you were from the rest of the world, especially when it came to defenses and technological adaptation. With a declining population and no childcare, how were you supposed to venture out or care for your little brother? There was occasional help from the people around town, but at the end of the day they still had their own priorities. Whether it was their own families or self preservation, you couldn’t blame them either way.

The shift in atmosphere caused you to clutch your heavy gun to your chest, it was still warm from moments prior when you fired it at a small thing just outside of your border. It was pulsing, lumps of quivering purple skin and fleshy wings. The creature must have taken over the body of a bird or larva of some sort, it was easy prey and an enemy regardless of its size. Danger came in all shapes and sizes, especially in the countryside so you couldn’t be too careful. As you continued your patrol your grip tightened on the clunk of high-tech metal, and then suddenly the air ran freezing. Your breaths came out in small puffs as your once perspiring skin became unbearably cold to the touch. Your rapid heartbeat rang in your ears, every hair on your body stood up in response to something primal bubbling in your gut.

Your body shuddered with rabbit-like trembling as you continued to slowly stalk around your property, “Who’s out there? Show yerself’! Coward!” You kept your eyes peeled for the threat you knew loomed around the corner. Your body had felt their presence before your mind could fully register that you weren’t alone. It was as if every creature in the area fled as a response to the dominating monster. At least you assumed it was a monster. You could feel it, the presence of something powerful. The presence of a true predator.

As the wind picked up, your surroundings were painted red. You were thankful you’d sent your brother home with your house’s barriers up. Subconsciously you hoped the remote in your pocket wouldn’t get crushed in whatever scuffle was going to take place. Scuffle? You wished it’d be that inconsequential. Whatever defenses you had probably wouldn’t be enough to deal with the unseen creature, but hopefully it’d handle whatever followed in its wake. It was then when your mind drew back to your predicament at hand, when you felt it push against your back. Singing your thanks internally that this was so far out from your house, that even if you were attacked here your brother would hopefully be off of their radar.

With trembling fingers, and a hitched breath, you spun around and pushed off of it in an attempt to create some distance. The billowing monster, with it's large black cape swaying in the wind leered at you, but you couldn’t quite make out their cold gaze. However, as your mind raced, your body froze, unresponsive to your own will as you finally made eye contact. It happened before you could even pull the trigger, your gun raised in steadfast defense. In the moment that the mysterious creature became clear in your vision, it instantaneously became infatuated with you. The determined wrinkle of your brow, the angry scowl that pulled at your lips. The moonlight bathed in crimson all because of him painted your skin the most tantalizing shade. He just had to have you.

The following moments were a blur, your mind was barely conscious. Even though you could see, taste, hear, feel, you were completely powerless. A specter that watched as your body was toyed with, you watched in horror as a pearlescent light cast itself upon you. Glowing charm magic that had you stunned and floating in the air, as still as the air became, it was as if that didn’t apply to you. He pointed a bony, sharpened finger nail in your direction as if to coax you. As he beckoned your form to his darkly cast silhouette, you finally were able to make out his face in your hazy state. And as his cold, undead fingers traced your figure, snagged onto your plump flesh just beating with fresh blood through your veins, you realized exactly who was about to feast upon you.

His dark chuckle while he took in the sight of your blank expression, the slight tremble that overtook you involuntarily. It sent shivers down your spine. You wished a deer would pop out, or a ghoul, or hell-even a demon would be fine. Anything but a vampire. A noble vampire of one of the highest regards among their hidden society. A noble who’s family presided as lords over your town’s land for centuries.

Naoya Zen’in held you close at last, the wind picked up, the trees in the surrounding forest creaked as if laughing at the poor state of you. His lips traced your pulse, he inhaled the nape of your neck, and you saw a sea of bats in the sky above you. An audience, you were sure. Your body reacted in a way that disgusted you, it keened and bent in pleasure as his fangs pierced your skin at last. You felt it, his searing kiss against your perspiring skin. As droplets of rubies descended from your wound, dressing you in a beautiful cascading necklace, a burning ecstasy filled your body. You hated it, you felt helpless as your body against your will writhed and begged for more, and yet he detached himself from your beating pulse point.

He looked pained, sharp brown eyes that watched you continue to squirm and begged him to finish it, to take you. It was delicious, he was practically drunk off of the feeling of hot crimson that streamed down his throat. He didn’t care that the words weren’t your own, that his hypnosis was just a little too effective, instead he reveled in the feeling of pleasure that reverberated off of you. Your virgin blood flooded his senses, but he held back. He couldn’t have you, not just yet. But he would, he was determined.

“I’ll give you three nights to prepare yourself, and say your farewells.” His husky voice chilled your body, the pleasure still consumed you whole. You itched, and pawed at your neck as his paralysis began to dispel; while a lecherous grin spread across his face. Half lids that studied your reaction, something inside of him came to life for the first time in centuries. He’d never seen a reaction like that, never had someone so sensitive. “On the fourth night, I’ll come for you, and take you as my bride. Steel yourself, for I will not and cannot be shaken.” And as quickly as he appeared before you, he vanished.

You weren’t sure if you were happy that you didn’t bleed out as you finally picked yourself up. Whatever sedative he’d cast upon you wore off completely minutes after his departure, even though it felt like hours. The crimson night returned to its serene navy setting, and life seemed to finally return to the surrounding forest. A small rabbit hopped beside you, carefully sniffing your feet and legs as if the stench of that beast was still washed over you. Which it was, you knew you were caked in coagulated blood, a sweltering wound that you quickly covered with a choker-like bandage pulsed with need and further pain. The pleasure and pain gave you whiplash, how was it so intoxicating despite being so dreadful?

You limped back to your home. Careful not to make any more noise than temporarily disabling the buzzing fence around it would cause. Your home was a rather large, spacious farmhouse. It was something you’d inherited from your deceased parents, and even if it was centuries old at that point, it had some great bones on it. Sure, the paint was chipping on the outside of the house. It was no problem that the plumbing was questionable, and some of your windows were boarded up. You made sure that you had a security system that was as up to date as your countryside town would allow, given their limited resources and lack of traveling merchants. It was too dangerous to send out people in an already dwindling population.

As you trailed your exhausted body along the wall, using it as support as your feet guided you toward your rickety stairs, you began to feel heaviness set in. You winced as the burning mark left on you began to ache. It was pain unlike anything you’d ever felt before. Which was surprising considering you were always being pummeled by the monsters that lurked in the darkness. If you weren’t being thrown around as you steadily defeated and killed the threats that plagued your town and home, you were climbing onto burly bodies. Using your own to slam them into any surface you could find while you put them down, it really was a full body effort to get rid of those things. You’d been caught in traps, poisoned, broken bones, but nothing could describe the sensation of the venom coursing through your veins. You knew the only thing that would help would be to kill the monster that held your body captive.

Or, as a temporary fix; fill it with another’s venom. Vampire’s were a rarity, not that you’d ever trust one enough to help you out. That was not something you’d willingly do, so it certainly wasn’t going to be your first option either.

You tried to make sure you didn’t leave a trail of dirt and blood while you disabled your security and felt along the wall to reactivate it. Tired legs hobbled up the steps, and heavy arms clutched the railing. Your brother was sound asleep, he held a clear and firm grip onto his own ray gun. He held it tightly to his chest, and you wondered if that was too dangerous. If you should pull it from his arms and just let him sleep like a little boy for once. However, you knew he was much safer with the possibility of firing the laser into himself as he slept, than being unarmed and left defenseless for even a moment in this dog-eat-dog world. If it wasn’t monsters looking for a meal, or a tasty snack; then it was raiders. Travelers with bad intentions. Hell, you knew that even some of the people you grew up with couldn’t be fully trusted.

It took you much longer to get to your restroom, and even longer to peel your drenched clothes off. You knew you stunk of sweat, the musk of another body, probably like the dead. Your dark restroom walls appeared black, your vision ran spotty. You’d lost a lot after all, you knew once your body finally relaxed you’d feel the full weight of your injuries. Your wrists were bruised, a purple handprint was left on your side, and another wrapped along your throat. Underneath your bandage, the dark purple and red mark oozed black blood. Blue and yellow veins ran up your throat, and along the wound site. The two puncture wounds were puffy, a reminder of the promise he made and the seal to your fate.

You practically crawled into the shower after thoroughly disinfecting the bite mark and wrapping it in a water resistant bandage. As the sweltering water beat against your sensitive skin, you desperately tried to scrub the man off of it. Even when you felt like a boiled lobster, skin rubbed so raw that you’d even resembled one; you could still feel his presence. It felt like at any moment his voice could plague your thoughts, like a part of him was inside of you now. You hated the disgusting feeling of longing you felt, you knew it was just his spell. You knew he’d cast a gnarly one upon you, because when you closed your eyes desire pooled into your stomach. Repulsion replaced by an intense itch you desperately needed something to scratch. You’d be damned if you were to ever willingly let him put his hands on you. Even if all your body wanted was to succumb to his endless night.

Over my dead body.

You never felt so happy to be curled up in your bed before, the old blankets filled your senses with the scent of your parents. With notes of eucalyptus and something peppery. Despite countless washes since their passing, your home and belongings still held their memory. Still held their voices, the way they smelled, their very spirits filled your home with love. How could you let their sacrifices go to waste if you were to be swept up by some haughty noble.

In the morning, you’d find a hunter. There were talks of some people passing through, of a couple hunters and merchants. You knew you’d have to find someone along the outskirts of your town, even if it was almost a quarter day’s hike out. That was your only chance at finding the help you knew you needed. Even if it would wound your pride to rely on anyone besides yourself.

A gentle breeze found its way into your room, your window was cracked so that you could just get some air. There was a stifling feeling that washed over your body. Lungs that were filled with anxiety, limbs that were heavy with exhaustion. The feeling consumed you despite your comfort and the need for your smooth sheets and plush blankets. You needed it to ground you, while sleep tried to consume you. You saw visions as sleep danced behind your eyelids, your eyes were slightly open while you watched shadowed monsters (mere illusions meant to torment you) crawl along your walls. The once comforting night time blue caused nausea to prick your senses as you felt like you were being watched. It was like he was there with you, in the corner of your room, watching you fight off the inevitable push and pull of exhaustion. His smirk didn’t leave your vision, even as your eyes succumbed to sleep finally.

With his voice echoing in your ears, taunting you and laughing maniacally, you begged for the morning to come quicker. You hoped and prayed for salvation, as your dreams were plagued by blood and lust.

Just 3 nights. 3 nights to figure out how the hell you could kill that monster.

•

Just as you’d promised yourself, you woke up at the first sign of daybreak. Before your rooster could even crow, you were up and dressing yourself. You’d put on shorts, a cropped-sleeveless high neck sweater, then found the most comfortable shoes you owned. Your brother was already tending to your farm, killing any wandering spirits on site as the sun rose when you’d finally ventured outside. The sun hadn’t even fully begun to peak over the horizon. An ombre of purple, pink, and gold cast a beautiful glow over the land. A heavy bag was slung across your back, filled with medical supplies and some refreshments. You knew a cross wouldn’t help you much, but in your desperation for any protection, you threw a stake in the shape of one in there as well. A golden consecrated cross on a chain was clasped around your neck and tucked away underneath your top. That would do more damage than any flimsy piece of wood any day, but you couldn’t be too safe. Not now.

Your brother looked at you as he blasted a warbling corpse, his features showed his delight at your presence. You ruffled his hair after he approached you, and pinched his cheek in affection. He nuzzled you, and you tried not to wince as he squeezed the covered up bruising around your waist. “Whatcha doin’ up? I can handle the mornin’ chores m’self just fine.” His incredulous voice bordered on a pout. He scrunched his little nose up at you, and you cooed at how adorable he looked. His need to take care of you apparent.

“I hafta make a day trip, hopin’ ta find some good stuff to sell.” You lied, and motioned to your backpack. “Should be back before sun down if I hurry. On m’ way, I’ll find Yaga, so that he can keep an eye on ya ‘till I get back.”

“I can take care o’ this place by myself, no problem!” He protested, his big twinkling eyes just begged you to let him this once. You knew better, knew he could, but you had to do everything you could to protect your only family. With a heavy sigh, you traced his face, brushed your thumbs across his eyelids, then shook your head.

“Too risky, bud. I know you can handle yer own, but I am here to protect you." you put extra emphasis on those words, hoping to make your point as clear as day. He was still a little boy, it was your responsibility to keep him safe. " A couple hours is one thing, but I’ll be gone all day.” He huffed in annoyance. You chuckled, it was fond, you could tell that he wasn't actually upset. “As long as I’m alive, I’ll do everythin’ in my power to keep ya safe.” He pouted, and turned his head away but gave in. He knew he couldn’t argue with you. Knew he couldn’t do enough begging to let him prove how reliable he could be. He hated feeling like he couldn’t protect you the way you protected him. You constantly sacrificed your wellbeing for his, shared your portion of the food, came back battered and bloody and bruised. For what? A weakling like him?

A ray of sunlight, as if on cue, cast itself upon you, as if the heavens were encouraging you to take your leave. You were ethereal, even the clouded eyes of your snot nosed little brother could see how beautiful you were plain as day. Everyone in town were just waiting for you to give in and marry someone with more money, marry someone for more protection, and he could see the way the men preyed upon you. Bided their time for you. He had to prove that he could keep you safe, but how? You pulled away as his soft pink brows continued to knit in frustration.

“Tell ya what,” you started then, your pretty eyes crinkled with delight. “I’ll find us some ice cream on the way back, and we can just…kick back for the evenin’. I’ll have Yaga patrol, and we can take the night off.” You hummed, his ears piqued with interest. “It sure is hard ta come by a sweet treat these days, but I might know a guy that’ll share? What d’ya say?” You poked his cheek, pinched his side, tucked his unruly hair behind his ear. How could he ever be a disobedient boy when you were just so caring? So thoughtful?

“Chocolate?”

“Anythin’ ya want.”

“Alrighty…” he trailed off, pouting bottom lip jutted out. He could act like a child just this once, right? You pushed off, and smiled at him then.

“See ya later, Yuji!” He watched as you made your way across your small farm, you stopped to pet the chickens and sheep in your stead. The few dairy cows you had, and your bull, made noises as you rushed by them. Waving and promising to return.

On your trek, you found Yaga like you said you would. He promised to keep Yuji safe, patting your shoulder when you thanked him profusely.

Outside of the town, you didn’t find many threats. Small mutant creatures here and there, not that there were many supernatural threats during daylight. You couldn’t tell if your run in with that powerful supernatural force made you more sensitive to them. Or if the mark on your neck said that you were off limits. Either way, it was the least amount of work you’d ever done during an expedition. You’d moved so fast, rushed yourself as thoughts of being a vampire’s captive bride consumed you in your loneliness. Even as you made your way across fields, beautiful sunlight doused your skin with love and protection, you felt an underlying dread.

Something tugged and pulled at your consciousness, the need to flee was so apparent. Yet there was also the primal need to be feasted on, your neck burned with the want for consumption. When you closed your eyes you saw those beady almost black orbs, that devilish grin, dripping red fantasies. You felt the nausea in your gut, the disgust for yourself and that God-forsaken noble.

The path that travelers crossed came into your view as your feet were beginning to ache. Everyone in town heard of hunters frequenting the seemingly never ending dirt trail. It was wide, a dark green forest was surrounding it from either side. The shade provided you solace from the beating sun, as the morning progressed, it only increased in heat. Birds chirped while you perched yourself against a tree, waiting for anyone to come by. If you were lucky you’d find someone before mid afternoon. You were praying to make it back before the actually dangerous beasts went out to prowl.

You tried to enjoy your packed snack, it was dried meat (aged perfectly), and an assortment of nuts. You were starving, but as your teeth bit into the tough flesh of what used to be one of your cows, you were instantly repulsed. The feeling of tearing into the meat, chewing it for a drawn out period, then swallowing the lump just wasn’t doing it for you. All you could picture was your own flesh, and being a meal for that vampire. You swallowed, not wasting a single thing as you knew meat was a commodity and you were lucky enough to be your own butcher. Even though you were lacking in money and treasure, you were rich in the resources provided by your farm. Your precious cow that you raised was in the palm of your hand, and you’d damn well savor her sacrifice.

The day dragged on, you kept your eyes peeled as you continued to wait. There was a faint hope that someone would come by that began to dwindle. The trees started to pick up a breeze, the sounds of the forest became a little more alive and a little more restless. You were thankful for the shade, you knew without it the early summer heat would be sweltering.

You watched rabbits hop along, scavenging for little red berries, then they feasted on a large clover patch. The clover’s scent calmed you, you stared at the rustling pink and purple blooms, the deep green leaves. When the few black bunnies scattered away, you ran your fingers through the patch. Scanning the leaves, plucking a couple of the flowers to snack on their sweet syrup. As you plucked a pastel purple bud, you accidentally snagged one of those velvety green leaves.

You couldn’t believe it, it had four of them.

The sound of something trotting and clambering filled your ears. It was distant, but you didn’t have to strain to hear it. You’d been out there for hours with only your thoughts, and the sound of the active forest. It was so distinct, you’d recognize the sound of a horse anywhere. With a thrumming heart that was rapidly increasing in speed as your nerves shot, you sprang into action.

The dark stranger knew you were coming before he’d even seen you. Could hear your rapid footsteps as they ran toward him, he even made out the sound of you throwing a bag off of yourself. Your movements didn’t phase him, he couldn’t even say that he felt threatened when you charged at him full force and then thrust your body some feet away from his horse.

He made sure to steady her. Smoothed down her shining black mane as she trotted two perfectly polished metal legs in place. He was more worried about his ticked off mare than some small thing clutching a gun in front of herself. There was no trembling in your stance, if anything you’d seemed absolutely determined to get him to stop.

Your squinted eyes took the stranger in, a large and long borderline-black navy hood hung off of his shoulders, the ends of which were clearly tattered. Wrinkled black denim hugged his legs and a tight black long sleeved button-up clung to his chest and arms. All of the buttons were snapped into place. (Later when the distance between the both of you would shorten, you’d notice that the first three buttons were undone.) His long onyx hair was silky smooth, you could tell even from a distance that it was carefully maintained. If you focused hard enough, the wind carried over his scent. It was something lightly sweet, yet it dangerously held an underlying spice. Like peppered jasmine. Perched on the top of his beautiful head of hair was a faded hat with an extremely wide brim. The dark fabric was so faded it was more of a muted green instead of the intended black. A rather large sword hung across his back.

You had to wonder how he hadn’t melted in the beating sun and scorching summer heat. He sat atop his horse, the reins loosely held in his hands. He was silently observing you, you smacked your lips in annoyance.

He made no show of reacting to you, he didn’t even outwardly acknowledge you when you charged him once more at his lack of response. “Hey, you!” You shouted, and without an ounce of hesitation, you fired at him. Your aim was for the dead center of his skull, and it would’ve landed had he not completely vanished before it could. There wasn’t so much as a puff of smoke, his horse was the only thing to bristle. Hardly, though.

You couldn’t believe your eyes as you watched the horse shake its head and then veer off into the grassy sidelines. You couldn’t spot the man, either. Not until he was pressed dangerously close to your back while you scanned your surroundings. Before you could react, he’d knocked your gun out of your hand. Good lord, you gulped, he was tall. Slim and perfectly muscular, you could feel it against your back. He smelled even better while close to you. Your damned heart rattled inside of its cage. You puffed out a frustrated breath, and leapt away.

You tried not to stare at him now that he was closer. His deep brown eyes were mesmerizing, curious. His face was still, there wasn’t a wrinkle in his brow or a tug at his lips. He didn’t look bored, angry, or frustrated. Your eyes found salvation in staring at his stretched ears instead. You’d seen some crazy piercings before, you could tell that stretched ears were a simple modification. But you’d never seen them before. The shining emerald and navy plugs in his ears caught the sunlight perfectly.

You tried your best to get some sort of a response from him, having resorted to flying fists and kicks. Not a punch would land, not so much as a jab would graze him. He was too fast, too good at dodging, and clearly if his sarcastic yawn had anything to say about it; he was getting bored too. You realized too late that he was just entertaining you. Didn’t dwell on why he’d even dragged the encounter on for as long as it was. His horse rested in the shade, the once active forest was, for some reason, completely silent save for the sounds of your frustrated grunts.

“You bastard, fight me! Not takin’ me seriously ‘cause I’m a woman? Or ya jus’ chicken shit?” On the contrary, he could tell that to any normal person, you could do some damage. He had to admit, he was impressed that you had the stamina to keep up with him.

He was fluid, moved as if he was one with the air. It was elegant, beautiful even. How were you thoroughly entranced by him mid fight? God’s above, was everything about this man breathtaking? As opposed to how desperate you were, sloppy, much too forced. “What’s the big sword about? If ya ain’t gonna use it, then I’ll just take it!” You’d played relatively fair that whole time, so he didn’t anticipate a gust of dirt to be thrown into his eyes and a sturdy kick to his chest. If he was anyone else it might’ve knocked him over, but he stood firm. Kicking him hurt like a bitch, yet you didn't let that fact show. You knocked his big sword off of his back, yet he remained unmoving, “Fuck man, what are you?” Your answer was more silence as he stood still. When you made a move to grab his discarded sword, he vanished again. As did the long dark clunk of metal you were trying to grab. “What the-?”

He was back onto his horse, and you could hardly keep up with him as he started onto the path once more. You sprang forward, ran after him and waved as you did so. “Wait, wait!! ‘M sorry!” The sound of your heavy footfall and even heavier panting had his ears perking. “I didn’t really want yer heavy lookin’ sword! Or to even hurt ya! Yer a hunter, ain’tcha? I jus’ wanted to see what you could do!” His horse continued to trot away, his broad back continued to obscure your blurring vision. You were beyond exhausted.

“Please, I need yer help! I’ll hire ya!” He steadied his horse finally, and turned his head to look at you. You finally caught up to him, your full chest heaved with every ragged intake of breath. His keen ears caught onto the erratic beating inside of your chest, the hot blood that pulsed through your veins and stuttering heart. He could smell something on you too. He knew what it was before you even said anything. “Take a look at this, ‘ere.” You pulled down the high neck of your top, exposing the bruised puncture wounds. “‘S the kiss of a noble.” The stranger got down from his horse then, enamored by the marks left on you. The painful looking veins that ran up and down the side of your neck, and branched off elsewhere.

His rosy lips finally opened, “How long ago did this happen? How many were there?” His floaty voice was lilted, deep, sultry. His tone was soft, and low. A gloved hand gripped your jaw without warning, and turned your head to the side. If he noticed the furious blush that overtook your awed features, he didn’t let on to that fact. His gaze was drawn to the blushed and burning mark on your delicious neck. You didn’t catch the way his piercing eyes would flit to your lip as you worried it between perfect incisors. He licked his own lips and smelled the mark, the scent of the noble emanated from it instantly. He scoffed, you were thoroughly branded.

“Jus’ last night, one noble. You a vampire hunter? Can ya help me?” You clutched onto his sleeve, reveled in the way he still held your jaw. He continued to inspect your wound and neck. He squeezed your jaw softly, your lips puckered the slightest bit. He tilted your face close to his, his searing touch caused your stomach to tense. He smelled so good, he was so pretty, you just didn’t know where to look or put your hands. He scanned your face, either uncaring or unaware of your inner turmoil, and finally he drew himself away.

“I can help you.”

You made a noise of delight, throwing yourself at his huge form. You hugged him close while you embraced him tightly.

“I can’t thank ya enough, sir!” It was his turn to be left stunned, for the first time in an admittedly very long time. Calculated golden brown eyes regarded your gyrating body, took in the sight of you under him. A foreboding feeling inside of him stirred, and he squashed the thought as soon as it manifested.

take her, rip into that sweet neck and take her

Okay, maybe it wasn’t a thought. He felt his right hand twitch, vibrating as if it were laughing beneath the glove. He resisted the urge to sigh heavily, instead he tensed that same hand and then deeply inhaled your scent. Saliva pooled at the tip of his tongue as it rested inside of his mouth. Your figure, despite being a terrible mess from jumping around and attempting to fight him, was a truly stunning sight.

Your hair was in disarray that settled as the time passed. Its color caught in the sunlight which emphasized the tangled strands. You were dirty from tumbling around, grey and brown smudges littered your arms, legs, and face. Your plush body was adorned by simple garments, but he still stirred at the sight. A tight sleeveless mock neck top, cropped just above your cute belly button. Those little shorts that hugged your thighs and hung low on your hips. Knit rainbow socks that were fading and almost too adorable in comparison to your scuffed up boots.

You fluttered tantalizing eyelashes up at him as you drew back. Your blush reddened, and in your bashful state you held your hands behind your back. His cool gaze finally fell to your heaving breasts, your tummy poking out from your cropped shirt, your insanely thick thighs. He had the sudden urge to spar with you again, and perhaps he would use his hands this time.

“I can’t pay ya with money, but m’ home is welcome t’ ya. You’d have three meals a day. Access to all the facilities, and m’ property. Could come ‘n go as you please. ‘N o’ course, if that ain’t enough you could…” your blush became impossibly more prominent, and to his amusement you drew your hands from behind and covered your face. “Have yer way with me, whenever and wherever you want. Jus’ please, sir, help me kill that noble fucker.” He hummed, but didn't give it much thought as he hauled you onto the back of his mare, then mounted her himself. He was close again, you could make out the feeling of his firm body, and he tried not to dwell on how soft yours was.

“Just call me, G. Lead the way, pretty girl.”

Now's your chance, bite into her neck.

He clenched his fist again, then wordlessly beckoned his horse to continue along the trail.

Pussy. You’re a pussy.

G. was used to being on his own, stuck with himself and his inner demons. His horse was his only companion, and she wasn’t much of a talker, either. Just the way he liked it. He’d spent many of his travels basking in endless quiet moonlight, or lounging under an old tree on those long peaceful summer days. It was crucial for him to maintain his collected attitude, embracing solitude. He needed to remain grounded and focused to better eradicate the creatures of the night. It was difficult for him to remain serene and composed when he had you talking his ear off, though.

As soon as he’d slotted himself behind you and kicked off, you’d opened your mouth. It was as if it was your life’s mission to play twenty questions with him. You were always quite the chatterbox, conversing with the overwhelmingly silent man came easy to you. You tried your best to fill the otherwise quiet hours with conversation. The sunlight hit the top of your head as you rode along the dirt path, your form bounced in time with her gentle trot.

“So y’been doin’ this a long time?”

“Yes.”

“Killed many nobles?”

“A few.”

“Where were ya headed before this? Hope ’m not keepin’ you.”

“Nowhere.” He paused as you pouted at his short responses, held back the chuckle that wanted to spill from his mouth, “Looking for monsters to kill, I go where they go.” You hummed, pleased that you were able to get a few more words out of him. He wasn’t such a tough nut to crack.

You were so thankful that he was letting you hitch a ride on his horse. Your feet ached from walking, not to mention this method of transportation would cut your time in half. You might even make it before sun down. You subconsciously leaned yourself against him, dwarfing yourself further. He kept his eyes ahead, took turns when you told him to, and you watched out for any potential danger. Your hands would wave around as you spoke, you attempted to get to know him a little better. A grin spread across your face and widened with each question answered.

“You, like, a mutant or somethin’? You were so damn quick over there, my eyes could hardly catch ya!”

“You could say that.”

“Well, whatever ya are, I sure do appreciate you helpin’ me out.” You were unsure if he was going to take you up on any of the things you’d offered. You didn’t have much to barter with, hardly had any money as well. You’d sustained almost all you had through trading, scavenging, and farming. Despite the rocky state of the world, money still did make it go ‘round. You really hoped he wouldn’t stick you with a fat bill by the end of all this.

You peered up at him, his gaze fixed on the path and your given direction. He sure was handsome, although that really wasn’t the right word. Elegantly beautiful, breathtakingly alluring. Anyone with eyes would be able to tell right away, regardless of proximity. Your face reddened with the idea of him and you and your unbecoming proposition. What would he be like? What faces would he make? The noises?

You shook your head, tried to rid it of those intrusive thoughts. The movement faintly tickled his chest. “Stay still, wouldn’t want you to fall.” He steadied you after noticing how your body slightly shifted to the side. Your gaze met his, when you lifted your head you weren’t expecting him to be staring down at you. “How am I supposed to collect my payment, if you’re badly injured? Or worse, dead.” You gulped, sparkling eyes immediately widened at his remark. His implication. Exactly which form of payment was he talking about?

Heat rose again, however as it did, a sharp pain pulsed in your neck. Your wound throbbed, a sickly heat spread throughout it. Your body felt fevered, you hunched over slightly at the unpleasant sensation. “Ah..” One of his big hands found their way to your hip, to steady you and pull you back into his hard chest.

You clutched at your neck while you turned to bury your face into him. His firm grip on you kept you grounded while you gripped his shirt tightly. “It hurts all of the sudden?!” your voice was hoarse, and there was a steady pounding in your head. Heat, intense burning, spreads throughout your body. Something was calling you, you pawed at your neck. A small noise of pleasure and pain made its way out of the debts of your stomach, your abs clenched, more heat traveled from your neck and pooled down below.

The more G.’s scent filled your being, an instinctual desire further clouded your already foggy mind. You pulled away as he stopped his horse, and stared up at him curiously. Something felt familiar, his smell was so comforting. The sun hadn’t set just yet, but the mid afternoon golden hour hit his luscious locks. Midnight emerald hues that shone in the vivid rays. His gaze, once golden-brown, was replaced by glowing violet. He’d stolen your breath the moment his shining orbs met your own. Drool pooled at the tip of your tongue as it heavily rested in your mouth.

In an instant you were pulled off the horse, your legs were wrapped around his slim waist. He’d backed you up against the trunk of a thick tree. Your body trembled in excitement, or fear? You couldn’t tell, yet you pulled him closer anyway. “G.~” your breathy tone caused him to shift, your core pressed against his broad body and another faint noise tumbled from your pouting maw.

“Does it hurt?” he looked around, how could the vampire’s curse be affecting you when there was still daylight? Just how much venom had been injected into your veins? Or was there a witch around? He couldn't sense anything, but that wasn't a reason to write off the possibility. Afterall, cloaking magic existed. He kept his ears trained on the rustling forest, there was no sign of a minion or even something as insignificant as a bird around. His foe must be very strong, if he can control you even in his slumber. You nodded, with your head against the trunk, your hair caught in the bark. It tangled, and stung, but all you could think about was the throbbing pain in your neck and the intense pulsing from your sensitive heat.

Warmth radiated off of you, he could feel where it was hottest. Glowing violet eyes studied the way you tried to control your writhing. “I can help you,” you peeked one of your closed eyes open and saw the way two pointed fangs protruded from his gaping maw. A hissing-like noise escaped him, and you almost moaned in anticipation. Your body craved those sparkling sharp canines more than anything. “If you’d like me to.”

“You’re a-”

“Dhampir.” his pointed nose nuzzled the wound on your neck, he deeply inhaled the strong scent wafting off of your body. “That alright? Want it?”

“Yes.” you sucked in your breath and held it while he gently grazed your wound with his teeth. He didn’t bite, but lapped at it instead. His warm tongue soothed your aching wound, and you gasped. Your hips rutted against his own, but you didn’t realize it. You were in a trance, with heavy arms you drew him closer. Pushed his face into the crook of your neck, as he continued to suck and lave copious amounts of saliva against it. You tasted so sweet, despite the scent of that noble fresh on you. It seeped from your bite, as if to fight G.’s own as it took over. “Ngh.” A loud thump rang out into the forest from your head smacking against the tree, it’d gone silent as soon as G. had bared his fangs. You were in pure bliss, a numbness began to overtake the once painful area. The looming man, the beautiful man with silky smooth hair and angelic features gently pricked your skin. Not because it was necessary, but because he couldn’t resist.

That’s right, bite her. Take her. You don't see ass as fine as this these days. She wants you, give it to her. You can’t fight it, after all you are just like those vampires at the end of the day, aren’t ya? That putrid blood runs through your very own veins.

His gloved hand snickered as he slammed it against the trunk, careful not to splinter it. Careful not to drop your grinding form. Your clinging form. Just a small taste of your ruby essence had him painfully straining against his tight pants. He maneuvered the both of you, rather than listen to the cackling in his head. The taunting voice as you unraveled underneath him beautifully.

He hadn’t kissed you, touched anything but your sides and neck, yet you felt you might climax before long.

G. gathered your curvaceous figure, his large palms supported you by your plump backside. His hands wandered farther than he meant them to, and you bucked into him again. He laid you on the soft ground, grabbed under your knee and brought it further up his back. He inspected the now numb wound, the way your ample breasts heaved with desire, the darkness in your eyes. Your cheeks were rosy, when had he last gazed upon someone so closely? Small shaky hands held his face, his sharp features hypnotized you. “Does it still hurt?” his deep voice startled you, and as your body jumped in surprise your core grinded against something heavy and firm in his pants. He didn’t make a noise, his expression remained unchanged, but you saw perspiration on his brow. A small dusting of rouge at the high points of his own cheeks.

“N-no,” words slurred together, “J-jus’ burns.”

“Where does it burn?”

“Mmm.” you whined, and ground against him, a slickness formed at the center of your little shorts.

“Your neck is better?” his inquiry fell on deaf ears, but he could tell that you weren’t in any pain regardless. Your neck was no longer hot, there wasn’t an obvious throbbing in it either. Your eyes were teary with desire, definitely a side effect from the wound and probably from his proximity and the blood that coursed through his veins. Your body knew something you didn’t but your hazy mind didn’t dare dwell on that. Not when he was rolling his hips into you.

The friction was enough to make you clamp down on nothing. You arched your back, your pebbled nipples shown obviously through your skimpy top. Your tummy folded with his movement, and he could confidently say he’d never had someone so beautiful under him before. He’d been around for a long time, yet being so mesmerized was a first for him.

His gloved hands explored your trembling chest, lifted your shirt to reveal your bouncing breasts. They jiggled with every drag of his hips, his hands palmed them one at a time. “May I taste?” he kissed your nipple then, and when you nodded in response his devious tongue poked out then sucked you in. A deep moan crawled up from the depths of his throat, it reverberated across your skin. The golden hour was shifting to sunset, but you didn’t care. You were so beyond aroused, a demon could pop out and you wouldn’t notice.

“Ugh, feels good.” your sweet voice cried out, and you gently ran your fingers through his hair. His scalp was sensitive, he hated when people touched it, but he practically purred as your almond shaped nails grazed it. He unbuckled his pants, it was so fast you didn’t know he did until his tight briefs were sliding against your short shorts. His fangs grazed your breasts, gently nipped at your nipples, but he didn’t draw any blood.

He moved in tune with your trembling hips, your bodies in perfect sync as you gave into temptation and instinct. It was slick, hot, he was just as aroused as you were. How were you so beautiful despite being covered in scrapes, bruises, dirt. He hated filthy people, he hated the uncleanliness that surrounded him on a daily basis. But he loved the salty sweet taste of your sweaty skin. He was enamored by your messy hair, your tattered clothes. Your delicious breasts kept calling to him. He lifted you up just so he could bite into your soft tummy, a bruise formed in its wake, then he dropped you right back into his lap. His pace slowed down, he deepened his movements so you could feel his throbbing erection.

He was in a trancelike state himself, equally drunk off of this sensation he hadn’t felt in probably decades. You lifted your hips, shimmied off your shorts, and revealed the tiniest black lace. Your plump hips and ass practically swallowed it. Saliva dripped from his mouth just to roll down your tummy and get absorbed by that very fabric. In the distance, as a fiery orange sunset began, he could hear coyote laughter. He felt like something that sounded just as cynical would pour out from his jaw. His glowing eyes intensified as he slid against you again.

There was no reason to do this, no reason to give into this animalistic desire. He’d already taken care of the pain, numbed that entire area with his own sedative-like saliva. Yet he continued to rut against you like some depraved virgin. Gentle noises escaped him as he finally gave in to the pleasure. Your panties were soaked. Slick stuck to your thighs, dripped down the curve of your ass. His briefs were stained darker the more that he mushed your pelvises together.

“Huff.” a heavy breath danced across your face, he leaned in closer to nudge your nose with his own.

A breeze poured in, briefly interrupting the heat of the moment. Your skin cooled, and a shiver wracked your already trembling form. G. shrugged his hood off, held you up so he could fasten it around you, and then continued his assault on your groin. You reached out to trace his handsome face again, your thumb squished his bottom lip, then pulled the top one to the side to reveal one shining fang.

With his rough movements, that only got rougher, your thumb jostled and his canine pricked it. A tiny bead of blood pebbled at the tip, a pleasured moan heavily fell from your glossy lips. You wiped it across his lips, pinched it just to make more come out. Your foggy eyes crinkled in further desire when he finally gave in and sucked it. He drew your thumb into his perfect mouth, and indulged in his little treat. Sucked, and scraped it just a bit more. A pool of wetness trickled out of you, and he could feel it. Smell it.

He threw his head back, exposed his pale neck, and you reached up to lick the sweat gathered there. Narrowed eyes watched as you laid him down into the soft grass. You straddled his sharp hips, laid your tits against him, and let your wetness consume him. You nibbled his chin, only to draw yourself back with your hand against his chest. Onyx hair pooled in the deep velvety green grass below the both of you, his hat a few inches away. He actually looked perplexed, maybe even pained.

You wanna bite her. You wanna taste that pumping hot iron. You wanna fuck the ever loving-

You pushed your dainty panties to the side, pulled his briefs down, and slid against him. It started so quickly, he didn’t know how you managed it, but you completely took him by surprise. From the moment he laid eyes on you, he could tell you were a feisty challenge of a woman. A spitfire he’d had yet to have in his company. Most people were rather timid in his presence, or threw themselves at him shamelessly. There was no in between.

At the end of the day, he knew this was all because of that noble’s kiss, not your own desire.

Seductive rolling hips and thick thighs cradled his slim waist. Puffy lower lips kissed his hot length at a tantalizing pace. You slid against him so well, it almost felt like you were actually having sex. Copulation was never at the forefront of his mind, he was so focused on ridding the world of evil beasts, that he hardly indulged in actual food. He trailed his hands up your sides, pulled his left glove off to squeeze your bouncing breasts once more. You brushed his hand away, guided it to your ass instead. Your breasts felt so nice squished against him, and you pecked him while you picked up the pace. It was so small, he wouldn’t have noticed that your lips touched if he wasn’t so zeroed in on everything you were doing. You wrapped your trembling fingers into his silken hair, and pressed your foreheads together. Frotting in the grass, his hood billowing in the wind and swallowing your figure, your tongue sticking out. His eyes went from narrow slits into genuine hearts as he kissed you at last. He closed the gap, closed his eyes, swallowed your lolling tongue into a fiery lip lock that had you moaning out loud. So loud, you were thankful there were no other people around.

He hated sweat, he never got hot. He was working up a sweat for the first time, he held you close and moved his hips deeper into you. Your clit repeatedly kissed the head of his swollen prick, the head occasionally prodded your entrance. A loud pop rang out every now and again, there was no way you’d be able to take him right there. But god did that sinful stretch feel so good, you had to fight with your body so as to not just fully sink down onto it. His chest flushed, you were getting sloppy. You had to be close.

Your puckered lips kissed him repeatedly, you didn’t want to separate your chests so you hugged yourself against him. Your thighs and hips burned with exhaustion. Your bareback for the day was finally catching up to you, and you whined. You just needed to feel that winding coil snap. You had to. His bare hand that was tightly gripping your ass for dear life snaked itself between your legs. Perfectly manicured nails rubbed at the rubbery smooth mound between your legs and you squeezed your legs together as best as you could.

“Ah! Shit!” you threw your head back, then collapsed into his chest again. Your body was limp finally, and you let him have his way with your aching slit. A deft digit traced your entrance, experimentally squeezed itself inside, and then rubbed against that sponge-y spot that had you loudly cry out again. Your voice was heavenly, he loved how your spine arched deeper. It was easier for him to insert his ring and middle finger in. Come hither motions had you throw your hips back in time with his rocking wrist. You rode his impossibly long fingers, and drooled against his chest. Tears leaked from your eyes as his gloved hand brought you down onto his pelvis again. Despite the fingers nestled into your dripping heat, he somehow bullied his engorged cockhead inside as well. At that point, could even be considered a virgin anymore? He didn’t move, G. knew he wouldn’t be able to thrust inside all the way. But his big fingers were already inside, the stretch must’ve stung so much. You hissed in pleasure, to his surprise (yet again).

“Yes!” your eyes were squeezed shut once more, and he moved his fingers in and out. His cock stayed in place, loved the way you squeezed around him and gushed more. His fingers felt good, so good as they reached far into you and then pulled almost all the way out. It didn’t hurt, but it definitely did sting. It was so addicting, but not as much as your fingers were as they scraped his sensitive scalp.

“Ngh…ah…” low noises rumbled in the back of his throat, he opened his mouth to moan with you as you unconsciously got him off by pulling his hair. You massaged his scalp, ran your fingers through inky tresses, and he had to repress that nasty urge to sink his fangs deep into your pounding pulse. It took everything in him not to ram his aching dick all the way inside of you. He knew you’d be so tight, the back of your throbbing hole would kiss his head so lovingly.

Bite her you disgusting bastard, y’know you wanna~.

His hand cackled inside of his head, he held you close just to roll his hips against you harder. Faster. He was close, his release was tight in his stomach. There was a knot that was just begging to snap. Your sweat danced with his, and not an ounce of pain was felt anymore. Just a searing hot pleasure just about to boil over. Mushing, sticky rubbing was all you could think about, your mind was too hazy to take in your steadily darkening surroundings. The sun still poked out, just barely, the sound of the forest coming alive once again was finally becoming clearer. Your own animalistic grunting and moaning filled the small patch of grass you occupied.

“M’gonna cum.” Your slurred proclamation had him sinking a little deeper inside. His fingers were brutal in their pace, and he laid you out as his release threatened to wash over him. Pink and magenta rays of sun kissed your dripping skin, his hair tickled your face. Toned thighs nudged your own apart once more, his angry cock slid against you again while he rubbed your clit. He poked and prodded your tight entrance, and he held himself in place. His eyes were still glowing that unnatural hue, his large uncovered palm spread your legs flush against the ground, bending them at your sides. It burned, your orgasm quickly approached while his silky hair curtained your surroundings. His violet eyes held your stare, your eyebrows drew together as you haggardly heaved your breaths and moaned so prettily.

What was he doing? With a client no less. Had he no shame?

“Fuck,” he swat at your clit and you gushed around him. “Cum for me.” He spit on your face, grabbed your jaw tight. A slimy tongue licked a trail up the side of your face and gathered your shedding tears. You nodded, sweet symphonies left your parted lips. “Pretty, you’re so beautiful.” He gushed, his bare hand ran up your side and rubbed at both of your breasts. He squeezed them, and leaned down to nip and kiss them both. Tiny red marks were left as proof of his kisses. “I haven’t even killed the bastard, and you’re already giving me such a sweet reward. How can I wait for the actual payment? You taste so sweet.” It was the most you’d heard him speak that whole day. He was singing sweet harmonies with you, your echoing voices made a sensual duet as the sun continued to set.

Crickets began to chirp, your back rose in a desperate arch. His gaze widened, his pace quickened. He’d never seen something so breathtaking, not in his entire life. He swallowed your breasts, his mouth needed something inside of it. If it wasn't your chest, it was your tongue, or your finger. He loved the way you tasted, thoughts of your earlier tumble and scuffle and hours of sweating flew out of his mind. If he was of sound mind, he'd be repulsed, but in that moment he was licking your lips and (gently) biting at your neck.

“Gonna cum, may I come inside?”

You frantically nodded your head, and he kissed you. He pulled you close, felt your body tense and your insides pulse. Your body wracked with shivers as your orgasm came over you. “Ngh.” He came as he felt more of your slick gush down his throbbing length. Your exhausted frame slumped into the ground, you felt completely spent after hours of fooling around. You didn’t have much daylight left, you needed to get up and get home to your brother. What were you thinking? Embarrassment burned your cheeks.

“I am so sorry, ‘m not sure what came over me.”

“The noble cast a spell upon you, this will happen from time to time.” G. explained while he fixed his pants. When you blinked he was by your side with a wet rag. He'd made sure to wet it with clean water from one of his canteens. His top was undone a little more, and you clung to him as he cleaned you up. He rubbed your thighs, and wiped your face off. His sponge bath felt too relaxing, and as you continued to lose daylight you surprisingly didn’t feel any less safe. He helped you get dressed, kept his hood draped around your shoulders. He handed you a different, smaller canteen of water. You groggily sipped from it, your appreciation didn't need to be verbalized. Another gentle breeze blew through your sweaty messy hair, and you sighed in a content state. He pulled you up, and situated you in front of him on his horse once again.

The night settled in, and it was eerily still. You were so much later than you told Yaga you’d be. Yet you still didn’t feel any danger lurking in the darkness. The stars danced and twinkled in the sky above, it was an endless sea of sparkling blue. It was such a calm evening, you could see everything ahead of you clearly. The fog from the prior night was not anywhere to be found. There were no creatures slinking in front of you, no undead. As you passed into the threshold of your town at last, you breathed out a sigh of relief. (Despite the rude and questioning stares that followed you on your way home.) You made a detour for the ice cream your brother promised before you began the trek to your property.

Your cozy farm was seemingly untouched, the barrier was raised. You pointed your remote at it with a shaky hand, and disengaged the security system. Your brother poked his head out of a window, when he heard the noise. His eyes lit up, and he raced out to you. The tall man babysitting him shouted after him, in exasperation.

“Yuji, d’ya know what time it is? Get back ta bed!” He stopped his scolding when he saw you, and the mysterious man that held you against himself. His words caught in his throat, “Goodness, what happened?”

“Jus’ not feelin’ too well lately. I’ve hired an extra set o’ hands.” You lied smoothly, well half lied, as you spoke you struggled to sit up fully. Yuji raced to the side of the horse immediately, he stopped himself from gushing over the half bionic creature. He was too worried about the state in which you returned.

“Sis, you’ve been sick?!” He rushed to help you off of the massive horse, and helped you lean against his smaller frame. You felt weak against him, he was a strong boy but you’d never felt so light before. He hoisted you onto his back and raced back inside. You’d been burning up, he rushed to give you something to reduce your fever.

“G.,” you reached out in front of you, your eyes beginning to shut. The man was by your side in an instant, he crouched down beside you. “It’s starting to throb again.” This time there was no desire. The peaceful early evening crept towards an endless howling darkness. Something felt ominous, and Yaga powered your barrier back up. The system zapped into place, and he held a gun across his chest.

“Get some rest darlin’, I got this place covered t’night.” Yaga urged you to make your way up to your room. Yuji nodded, he’d ask you about the strange man you brought home some other time. Besides, the tall man looked like a new friend. Especially if he cradled you in such a protective way. G. held you close and followed your directions just like he’d been doing all day. He was drawn to your sigh as you sunk into your big mattress. He hadn’t slept in a bed in such a long time, and you silently willed him to lay beside you.

“It hurts.” He didn’t hesitate to hover over you, draw his fangs out and suck on your neck just like earlier. When it began to go numb again, you thanked him profusely. “Reckon there’ll be more nightmares.” You mumbled, yet your eyes still shut. Your body still relaxed heavily into your mattress.

“Sleep now.” The quiet man let you cling to him as you drifted off into the abyss, his scent calmed your once rapidly beating heart. You’d never met the man in your life, yet he felt so safe, so familiar. Your body cried out as if it knew him. Or at least something inside of you knew him. His wish was your command, and sleep took over as quickly as you thought about it. The exhaustion finally caught up to you. Before you fully lost consciousness, you’d heard him utter a quiet apology into the otherwise empty room. “I pushed you too hard today, sorry pretty girl. I’ll be more careful in the future.” You nuzzled into him further, and finally let the depths consume you.

•

You saw flashes of cold, dark brown eyes, all around you. You were surrounded by a sinking abyss, black walls and grey smoke at your feet. You tried to shout, to make any noise but it died in your throat. All that came out were visible cold puffs of air. It was freezing. Your body wanted to shiver, but something inside of you felt just warm enough to endure. As you caught the glimpse of eyes you desperately tried to run away from, you silently cried out for anyone to hear you. To see you. To pull you out. You were in a tattered white wedding gown. The further you ran the more distressed it became despite not brushing up or getting caught in anything. Your feet were bare, and became scraped, somehow your legs even became scratched up. As if you were running through invisible thorn bushes.

“H..” you tried to scream out help but it kept getting caught in your throat. Your foot caught on itself, and you tumbled face first into the ground. It didn’t hurt, if anything your hands grasped at it for dear life. Your body finally began to feel warm again, the dull throb began to subside as well.

“W-wake up.” You tried to will yourself, you’d figured this was all a dream when you fell down. Almost as if it shook you awake, despite still being surrounded by the loathsome darkness. You stared down at the ground, felt eyes surround you once more. There was something so soothing about the somehow warm ground, you clutched and scraped at it to see if anything would give. If it was dirt it’d be beneath your nails, but there was nothing. It wasn’t clothes, you couldn’t bunch it up. You felt around in the darkness for anything to grasp onto.

Tears sprang up from your eyes, yet they confused you. You weren’t upset, you were just frustrated. Why were you crying? Your hands finally found purchase on something. As they grasped around a handle you frantically tugged. It was the door to a hatch, or something underground. Maybe it was a way out? You desperately tugged and pulled, but it wouldn’t budge.

You grunted in frustration, how could you work up a sweat in your dream? Before that thought could properly form, you felt something cold wash over you. Then your eyes snapped open. The rooster crowed outside, the tiniest speck of the sunrise shown through your window. You were still in a daze as you looked down, your cracked window let a gentle breeze blow your hair in the wind. Below you was the curious pointed gaze of your hired bodyguard. Small hands gripped around his throat. Familiar hands. Your hands. You gasped and hastily pulled them away.

“I am so- Well I am jus’-!” You were so flustered, it pulled the faintest of smirks from his otherwise relaxed expression.

“No need to apologize.” He picked himself up, and you clambered off of his lean body. “You can’t hurt me, and neither can that curse. It can try to, however. The sight was quite amusing.” A cheshire grin spread across his elegant features, his eyes crinkled in heady amusement. You finally took a good look at him, with a clear mind and bathed in the sweet rising sunlight. His dark clothes were wrinkled, yet he didn’t appear disheveled. His hair was perfectly laid in place. Not a strand was astray.

“Lemme give you a tour o’ the place. Then I’ll whip us up some breakfast.” He wordlessly followed you around your room, you tidied yourself up. Tiny little dark denim shorts, even shorter than yesterday, had your ass peaking out just below them. A tight spaghetti strap tank top, dark grey, clung to your ample chest. If one were to stare at you for too long, they’d notice the faintest bloomed marks on the swell of them as well as one on your tummy. The top rested above your navel, was this the latest fashion trend? Exposing our midriffs? It’d been a while since he’d been around women of that time. Was this a statement, or for practicality? You threw on slightly less battered boots than yesterday, and tied a red bandana around your neck. Something to cover the wound that still hadn’t gone down in size. Languid fingers brushed through your hair and into a style that would quickly get your hair up and out of the way.

You’d felt refreshed, took in a deep inhale of the morning air when you finally opened the door to your front porch. Chickens clucked around your yard, G.’s horse stood in the middle of a small flock. She clicked her metal hoof, and flicked her silky black tail, but made no move to seriously shoo them away from her space. Yuji was chasing a lamb around, trying to wrangle it back into its original pen with the rest of the sheep. It made a noise of protest as he finally got ahold of it, and moved it back in with its parents. He saw you on the porch, watching him, and waved you both over enthusiastically.

When you finally walked over, he clung to your arm. Fluffy unruly pink hair brushed against your bare arm. You cooed affectionately brushed your fingers through it. When he looked up at you, his big brown eyes widened like he remembered something important.

“Don’ you worry ‘bout the chores, sis. I can handle ‘em all. You just go rest ‘n get better. I’ll show this guy the ropes.” Yuji tried to push you back towards the house, his wide eyes squinted and tongue poked out with determination. You chuckled, and let him get you back to the porch. He led you to a large swinging bench.

“Well what was the point of walkin’ over t’ya if you were just gonna send me right back inside?” You giggled, but still sat on the plush porch swing that overlooked the front of your property. The cushions were well maintained. You’d found the beaten up floral cushions in an abandoned house a while back. It was your mission to fix up the house your parents left you, yet the only thing you’d had time to fix was the swing. You stained the wood burgundy, used whatever baking soda and detergent you could on the once brown cushions, now a faded cream color with what was probably pastel pink flowers. The once rickety hinges were now silent as you gently swayed back and forth, the chains that held the seat up were replaced as well. You laid your body down, fully resting sideways to watch your brother. The warm sunlight as it took over was comforting, the birds singing brought a lazy smile to your face. How could you be so relaxed in such a violent world? G.’s curiosity was thoroughly piqued.

“Well,” Yuji kicked his feet, hands held behind his back as he looked down, “I jus’ got excited. I miss you.” He mumbled, you could barely hear him but the bright smile that took over your features at your cute little brother’s admission practically blinded G.

“Well, alright, I’ll leave ya to it.” You shooed him away, but not before pulling G. closer. He knelt down as your brother waited for you to finish talking. “If ‘s too much, don’t do it. I’d hate to have ya help out when it’s not what yer here-.”

“It’s not a problem. I can do it.” He leaned down, something suddenly came over him, he just had to nuzzle his nose against yours. Calculated eyes held warmth that he wasn’t ready to share, but he was but a victim of desire. His inky tresses tickled your face, pointed nose brushed against yours so affectionately. He had to admit it, just a night and he was enamored. His usually stagnant heart just couldn’t stop from its erratic dance when he saw you. He felt the urge to protect you.

He rose, his hood billowed as some wind picked up, and his sharp gaze suddenly turn towards the outskirts of your property. He’d heard hooves, angry mumbling, frantic footfalls. It wasn’t dark out, and yet he could smell smoke and fire, the telltale signs of an angry mob. He stood in front of you protectively, instinctively reached behind to soothe your worried head. You could hear them as they got closer, your confused eyes searched the crowd as it appeared. You could recognize everyone, all of the people that flooded your front yard were people you grew up with around town.

The usual warm smiles and sleepy eyes were filled with something tense in the men. Lips pulled back and frightened scowls littered the children and women. Small children clutched their mother’s garments, men held pitchforks and torches. Women carried rosaries and crosses clutched in their hands, mouthing silent prayers. You were completely bewildered, what was going on?

“You!” Finally a man spoke up, pompous nose upturned, blond hair styled in a gaudy poof, bright pink suit tailored and embroidered with flowers. The mayor's son, you rolled your eyes, just who you needed to see.

“What is it now, Eugene?” You sighed, and lifted yourself up, but it was too fast and you clutched your head as dizziness overtook you. G. balanced you, and you held onto his arm for support. When did you become so exhausted? You’d just woken up.

“What’s under the bandana?” He lacked any tact. You sighed, and pinched the bridge of your nose.

The sheriff of your town held a pipe in his hand, the other loosely held the reins to his horse. He was at the front of the crowd, right there with the mayor and his son. A slim yet well-built man, dark brown western style hat beat up, boots scuffed just the same. His horse was older, a brown beauty he took pride in, and he gently climbed off of her.

“Sweetheart,” he started, trying to ease the tensions amongst everyone. He knew you. They all did. “There’s been some talk, since ya left yesterday mornin’. About the Zen’in’s findin’ another bride.” You rubbed his neck, clearly not having to be the one to say any of this. You looked around amongst the townsfolk, and then back at the sheriff.

“What’s that hafta’ to do with me?” Yaga made his way out of your house then, he stood tall beside you when he realized just what he walked out to. Your bite burned again, heat rose to your cheeks. Cursed vampires, cursed wound, cursed town.

“Well,” he blew out some smoke then, “I know yer not in cahoots with those damn dirty nobles. Please, darlin’, just give these people that peace o’ mind. Show ‘em yer neck, ‘n we’ll be on our way.”

“Like that slut would show y’all anythin’, o’ course she’s slept with him. I say we burn this place ‘fore they can get ta the rest of us!” The mayors son proclaimed, clearly still upset from your numerous rejections. He’d proposed marriage on several occasions, the most recent just a couple days prior to your attack. Seemed like his wounds were still fresh.

You rubbed your carefully trimmed brow with the tip of a pretty polished finger. “I’m not the plaything of some bastard noble. I don’t hafta prove shit to y'all.” You crossed your arms over your chest, and huffed while you defiantly turned your head to the side.

“This harlot is scared shitless, don' let 'er fool ya, quick! Someone grab ‘er and rip that damn scarf off!” The mayor chimed in, backing his sons accusation. He was in the comfort of a carriage, monocle askew as if he’d been rubbing under his eyes, still in his off white pajamas that were a size too small for his plump stomach. He pointed a meaty finger in your direction, as if to sick his dogs on you. The crowd riled up, encouraged by their mayor.

Eugene seemed to give up on the idea of anyone taking the leap, so he himself rushed over to you in an attempt to take the bandana off. G. didn’t let him get far, he knocked him over before the poor bastard could even blink. He was winded, landed on the ground in a puff of dust and a loud thud, “Oof!” He rubbed his backside, his face red with embarrassment. “Who the hell is this? Why’s he shackin’ up at your place?”

“He’s my farmhand while I recover.” You looked around, at sheriff Higuruma, at the children scared for their safety, your peers. “I…” you gulped, realizing you owed it to at least those people your honesty, “I was attacked. I didn’t want this, the Zen’in head assaulted me. G. is here to take care of him for us. I am not with those vile nobles.” You pleaded, finally undoing your scarf and revealing your pulsing wound to those around. Some gasped, some women fainted he’ll be after us next, I jus' know it, others shook their heads and crossed themselves with their rosaries.

Higuruma came up to you then, crossing onto your porch and made his way next to you on the bench. Yaga was by your side in that instant as well, he was the town doctor after all. “Y’ shoulda’ told me ‘bout this sooner. Did ya even disinfect it properly?”

“I did it for her.” G. stated, stepping to the side to give the men some room, he kept a cautious eye on the rest of the crowd.

Yaga eyed the stoic man, “I thank ya kindly for takin’ care of my girl here.” Yaga was like a father to you and your brother, or a fatherly uncle. He was close friends with your parents and swore to protect the both of you to the best of his ability if anything were to happen to them. You began sweating, kept the pain you were feeling to yourself. You held G.’s hand when he stepped closer to you again, sensed your pain and wanted to comfort you. Why did he want to comfort you? “If ya don’t mind me askin’, what makes you think you can stop those nobles? Y’ seem strong, but that won’t get ya very far. ‘N we all know the only way to truly stop a noble is…”

“To put them down.” G. finished Yaga’s sentence, caressed the top of your head. “He won’t be my first vampire, and he definitely wont be my last. I’m rather good at this.” His confidence boosted your spirits, made you hopeful that you’d be rid of this damned curse. That he’d do it before it was too late for you.

“Why should we trust this wench? The moment she let herself be attacked by that thing, her rights were forfeit! Who cares ‘bout this hunter, how d' we know he’s even tellin’ the truth? How could this man possibly protect our village ‘n kill that noble?!” The mayor exclaimed, further encouraging the people around him in their apprehension. Voices in agreement, some in acknowledgment and contemplation, gradually grew. It felt like you were slowly being swallowed by a large shadow. It clouded the vignette of your vision, your insecurity and feelings of being overwhelmed threatened to consume you whole. You were feeling so hot yet again, Yuji immediately caught on to your discomfort and poorly state; so he rushed over to you. Droplets of beading sweat began to pebble on your forehead, as your fever began to rear its ugly head into you.

Your brother made a noise in the back of his throat at the sight of you, got you to your feet and let you climb onto his back again. “Don’t worry ‘bout those chores, mister. Jus’ keep these people out while I put my sister back inta bed.” G. nodded, and your brother made his way inside and up the steps with you on his back.

G.’s leering figure almost appeared to double in size to the people in the yard as he stood guard outside of the door. He was suddenly so intimidating, no one dared approach the house further. An almost demonic-like aura radiated from his form, swirling black tendrils began to emanate from his feet then up to his silhouette. A wide, toothy, contemptuous grin spread across his face as he stared at the mayor and his son. His piercing, condescending eyes crinkled. Long thin legs began their descent from the porch, and made their way across to the father-son duo.

“Mmn…” G. made a contemplative noise as he eyed the crowd that steadily backed away from him. It was as if a dark shadow cast itself among the frightened townsfolk, the sound of the farm and surrounding land went silent. The people kept their voices to hushed whispers amongst themselves as he began to speak, “I implore you to give me some time, two more days.” His voice dripped with fake sincerity. He was clearly feigning his pleading, mocking those that were so frightened by such a small woman and a bite wound of all things. As if killing her would stop that noble’s search amongst the rest of these insolent, puny people, “If I am to fail, I’ll take care of her myself.” He held a slim, sharp hand across his heart. “Would you like me to prove my abilities to you all?”

The mayor gulped, then cleared his throat. “I g-guess we have no choice, then.” He motioned for everyone to leave, while his son stayed put. G. smiled, but it lacked sincerity, he nodded along as if content with the chubby man’s answer.

Two more nights, and you’d be rid of that damned curse.

•

a/n: okay so, obviously like half of this doesn’t happen in the actual film, basically like none of it, it’s loosely based off of it! I hope yall could still see the references and inspiration and I kept the general set up the same :) also, requests and prompts are open. I’d love to write more, and am open to ideas!! I hope yall enjoyed this, I put a lot of thought into it. The next two parts will be released relatively soon :) so be on the lookout!!

a/n: this was a gift for @peachyysobs

49 notes · View notes