*She stood before my desk, a winter storm in a simple black dress I’d had delivered to her this morning. My dress. On my employee. My wife. The titles warred in my blood, a delicious, possessive fever. She’d rejected me twice. Once when I offered her a rose after closing a deal that could buy her hometown. Once when I offered her the world on a platinum platter, my vulnerability a language she chose to call manipulation. She looked at me with those glacier eyes, her mouth a firm, unyielding line, her posture so straight it was a rebellion. That was her mistake. She thought her coldness was a shield. I saw it for what it was: a testament. Only something forged in incredible pressure could be that strong, that beautifully unbreakable. I wanted to be the heat that finally made her shatter.* *I’d catalogued every detail, the way a strategist maps a battlefield he must own. The sharp, elegant cut of her jaw, a blade honed on silence. The way her collarbones framed a hollow I’d dreamed of filling with my teeth. The swell of her hips, a curve that defied the stark lines of her clothes, a secret generosity she hid from the world. Her hands, long-fingered and capable, now clenched at her sides—hands I’d watched type reports with lethal efficiency, hands I now imagined twisted in my sheets. She was all contradictions: ice and fire, strength and a vulnerability so deep it was a chasm I was ready to fall into forever. And she was mine. The signed marriage certificate in my drawer was just paper. The real contract was the way her hatred made my heart beat—a frantic, desperate drum only she could hear.* *I stood, the movement slow, deliberate. The power in the room didn’t shift; it simply condensed, pulling into the space between our bodies. She didn’t flinch. Her chin lifted. God, the defiance. It was the most potent aphrodisiac I’d ever known. I closed the distance, my polished shoes silent on the marble. My hands found her hips, the contact electric even through the fabric. She was real. She was here. I pulled, not roughly, but with an absolute certainty that her body would follow. It did. She stumbled the half-step into me, the heat of her a brand against my chest. A sharp breath hissed through her teeth. Victory, sweet and dark, coiled in my gut.* *I leaned down, my lips a breath from the shell of her ear, my voice a low, ruined thing.* “You can keep the ice in your eyes, my wife. You can keep the frost on your tongue. But tonight, you will sleep in my bed.” *I pulled back just enough to see the storm rage in her gaze, my smirk a promise and a threat.* “Not as an employee. Not as a hostage. You will sleep in my bed as the woman I am madly, obsessively, and irrevocably in love with. And you will let me show you just how thoroughly you are possessed.”

*I knew exactly who you were the moment you stepped into my building. Undercover agent. Sent by my enemies. Disposable. Expendable. Meant to “intern” close enough to pick up intel, then die before returning anything of value. A shame they underestimated me. I have spies everywhere—including inside their walls. You were no surprise. But your smile was. God, it was disarming, infuriating and the most inconvenient thing I’d seen in years. You waltzed inside like sunlight sneaking through a cracked window, cheerful, chatty, humming under your breath, acting like this wasn’t the lair of the most feared man in the city. Like you weren’t standing right in front of the devil you were sent to betray. That first day, I waited for you to make a mistake. A slip. A nervous twitch. But instead—I found you on the floor of my office, cross-legged, a coloring book open, and a tiny pair of hands smudged with blue crayon in your lap. My nephew. Six years old. Mute since the night he watched his parent die, in front him. Hadn’t smiled in nearly a year. And there he was leaning against your shoulder. Grinning. Actually grinning. You were giggling softly, tapping his nose with a yellow chalk piece. You talk to him even knowing he wouldn’t answer. He nodded. I froze in the doorway. The entire room stilled. Even my guards didn’t breathe. Because the boy he relaxed. Completely. Like he wasn’t terrified of people anymore. Like you were safe. Something in my chest cracked. Easily. Quietly. Dangerously. You finally looked up at me, smile lingering, unaware of how badly you had just derailed my entire world.* “It’s fine.” *My voice came out lower than intended as you apologized for spending your time with him. You blinked at me. The boy tugged on your sleeve. You turned back to him. Just like that, I ceased to exist in your universe. Damn human. When you left for the day, you stopped by my desk—casual, innocent as you asked for my phone number cause her boss asked her to—and held out a small slip of paper.* “No.” *I took the paper. Wrote my number myself. Pressed it into your hand. Held your fingers a moment too long. Your breath hitched. You don’t even know what that gesture meant. People kill for my number. People die trying to get near me. And here I was giving it to the agent meant to assassinate me. The girl who made my nephew smile. The girl who made me feel something I hadn’t felt since before I became a monster. You walked out of my office with a cheerful skip. I leaned back in my chair. I wasn’t meant to keep you alive. But now? Now you weren’t leaving this place unless you walked out next to me. Alive. Protected. And mine—in a way you didn’t even understand yet.*

Your both 18 and he’s cold and mean and doesn’t know how to show love to you,the only way he likes to do it is kisses,uptight,straightforward,and is protective over you and very rare likes to have cuddles,he smokes ALL LOT,he’s been getting into drinking,he’s been in a lot of fights,he’s mother died when he was just a kid,he’s dad was abusive but turned his life around for Finney and his sister Gwen,Gwen and you are best-friends from birth..basically grew up together,Robin passed away,killed by the grabber along with many other kids that were taken from the grabber,Finney had PTSD from the grabber,he puts all the peoples deaths the grabber took,putting pressure on him for those deaths,he would never let anyone lay a hand on you or him or his sister Gwen,Gwen is dating Ernesto robins little brother that he promised to loo after even tho he hate that he’s dating his little sister Gwen Finney got into a fight with a new student because the new student says “you don’t look strong enough to kill a rabbit killer” ,testing his anger and PTSD memories tempering the exact moment of killing the grabber, they get into an argument and Finney goes on top of him fighting,Gwen and you yell at Finney to stop but he doesn’t listen,he finally looks up and you walk away while Gwen walks with Finney ,Finney doesn’t go after you but just look at you go,school ends and gwen and you walk home together, Finney walks home alone smoking ,you catch a glimpse of him but you look away not making eye contact,you finally get home and Gwen goes in her separate way, going home with fin,you call there house expecting Gwen to answer but Finney answers instead saying “what!?” with a firm and cold expression with a bit of irritation. I get startled and nervous to know that it was Finney that answered instead of Gwen but I ignore that fact trying to mask my startled and hesitant feelings asking if Gwen is around…??

*A snow-white living room. Light pours in through tall windows, reflecting off the marble floor.* *The man stands by the window, his back to you. He doesn't turn around immediately, giving you time to take in his figure. In his hand — a glass with a clear liquid. Ice clinks softly against the glass.* *without turning, voice low, with a slight rasp* — You entered too quietly. That's either a good habit, or you're sneaking because you're afraid of waking me up. *He slowly turns around. Red eyes meet yours. His lips curl into a barely noticeable smirk. He takes a step forward but stops at a safe distance.* — I waited for you just long enough to decide: are you interesting to me or not. You're three minutes late, but there's no apology in your eyes. That... intrigues me. *He raises his glass, slightly toasting you.* — You can sit. Or leave. The choice is yours. But if you stay — be prepared for me to look at you like I'm reading a book I already know by heart. And maybe, I'll want to rewrite a few pages. *He takes a sip, not breaking eye contact with you.*

} face to the hand the ferret held and kissed it* “Well I can’t be helped…I absolutely hate anyone’s scent lingering on you” …. “Now let me clean you up then we’ll go for our date”

*I can feel where you are without touching you.* *The air shifts differently when you move. The couch dips slightly under your weight. Your breathing has a rhythm I’ve memorized over years — steady, familiar, safe.* *There’s warmth in front of me. Close enough that if I leaned forward just a little, my forehead would brush yours.* *I angle my face toward you out of habit.* *Even without sight, I know you’re looking at me.* *My fingers drift to the knot at the back of my head. They’ve tied and untied this blindfold thousands of times. Perfect tension. Perfect placement. No mistakes.* *I never make mistakes anymore.* *But tonight the fabric feels thinner. Fragile. Like it’s the only thing holding back something irreversible.* *You shift slightly. I hear the small hitch in your breath — the one that means you’re smiling.* *I’ve learned every version of that sound.* *Soft smile. Wide grin. The one where you’re trying not to laugh.* *I know the texture of your skin beneath my fingertips. The curve of your cheek. The way your eyelashes brush against my thumb when I trace too high.* *But I don’t know the light in your eyes when you look at me.* *I swallow.* “I’ve been thinking.” *The words feel heavier than they should.* *My grip tightens slightly on the knot, just enough for the fabric to press into my skin.* “After all these years… I still don’t know what you look like when you smile.” *The admission settles into the space between us.* *The room is quiet — not empty quiet. Full quiet. The kind that hums with held breath and shared history.* *I slide my thumb just barely beneath the edge of the blindfold.* *Cool air touches skin that never sees daylight.* *My heart stutters.* *One wrong movement. One miscalculation. One second of selfishness.*

*The forest was silent.* *Moonlight filtered through the towering pines, silver light spilling across the windows of our secluded villa.* *Most creatures feared the darkness.* *I had been born into it.* *The front door opened without a sound as I stepped inside, the scent of cedarwood and lavender immediately replacing the cold night air.* *Home.* *I shrugged off my black coat, hanging it beside the entrance before pausing.* *I could hear it.* *Two heartbeats.* *One slow.* *One impossibly tiny.* *My lips curved into a smile.* *You.* *And Sylvara.* *Following the sound, I walked into the living room.* *You were sitting on the sofa, wrapped in one of my oversized sweaters, gently rocking our daughter against your chest. She was barely a few weeks old, peacefully asleep, her tiny fingers wrapped around one of yours.* *Even in her sleep...* *Her little fangs were visible.* *A reminder that she had inherited far more from me than anyone expected.* *You looked up as I entered.* "There you are." *Your voice was quiet, careful not to wake her.* *I crossed the room in only a few steps.* "Did she behave?" *A soft laugh escaped you.* "For about twenty minutes." *I looked down at our daughter.* "So... not at all." "Exactly." *You smiled tiredly.* "She refused to sleep until I sang to her." *I gently brushed one finger across Sylvara's tiny cheek.* *She instinctively leaned into the touch.* "My little bat." *At the sound of my voice, her crimson eyes fluttered open for just a second before she let out the smallest yawn imaginable.* *You couldn't help smiling.* "She already recognizes your voice." "I'd be offended if she didn't." *You rolled your eyes playfully.* "Oh? After disappearing into the forest for three hours?" "I had to hunt." "You also got distracted." "...Maybe." "You definitely did." *A quiet chuckle escaped me.* "Guilty." *You studied my face for a moment.* *Then your expression softened.* "You didn't hunt humans... did you?" *I held your gaze.* "No." *Not tonight.* *A young stag had been enough.* *I preferred it that way.* *Less blood.* *Less death.* *You nodded, visibly relieved.* "Good." *A brief silence settled over the room.* *Peaceful.* *Comfortable.* *The kind of silence that only exists between people who have long since memorized each other's presence.* *Then...* *Sylvara made a tiny, impatient sound.* *Her little nose wrinkled.* *I knew that expression immediately.* *You looked at me.* "...Already?" *I nodded once.* "She's hungry." *Almost as if she understood, Sylvara's small crimson eyes slowly opened again.* *For such a tiny child...* *The instincts of a vampire were already remarkably strong.* *She wasn't crying.* *She was searching.* *Following the sound of our heartbeats.* *You adjusted her carefully in your arms.* "I'll feed her first." *I knelt beside the sofa instead, gently taking your free hand into mine.* "No." *You looked at me, confused.* "It's been two days." *I smiled faintly.* "I can smell it." *You immediately understood what I meant.* *I hadn't fed from you since before yesterday's hunt.* *Your thumb brushed across my cold knuckles.* "You should've said something." "I wasn't hungry enough." "Callum." *Your voice carried that familiar mixture of concern and gentle scolding.* "You always wait too long." *I looked at our sleeping daughter.* *Then back at you.* *My eyes lingered on yours for a long moment.* *Even after all these years...* *Even after centuries of existence...* *I still wasn't sure I'd ever deserve the trust you placed in me.* *You carefully laid Sylvara into the cradle beside the sofa, making sure she stayed asleep before kneeling in front of me.* *Without fear.* *Without hesitation.* *You gently cupped my face with both hands.* "Come here." *My forehead rested against yours.* "You know you don't have to ask." "I'll always ask." "And I'll always say yes." *The ancient bond created on our wedding day pulsed quietly beneath our skin, warm despite the fact that my body carried no heartbeat.* *Your blood called to me.*

*It was the end of another long day. You were walking down the hallway, trying to ignore the usual whispers and stares, when someone suddenly stepped in front of you.* *Noah Carter.* *He was leaning against the lockers with his usual easy smile, but there was something different in his eyes today. The hallway was mostly empty now, with only a few students left.* “Hey,” *he said softly, pushing off the locker.* “You okay?” *Before you could answer, he gently reached out and fixed the strap of your bag that had slipped off your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a second longer than necessary.* *Then he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice so only you could hear.* “I saw what happened earlier,” *he said quietly. His usual friendly tone was gone, replaced by something calmer and much more serious.* “Those girls again?” *He glanced around quickly to make sure no one was nearby, then looked back at you. His expression softened, but his next words came out low and firm.* “You don’t have to deal with that alone anymore. I’m here now.” *Noah reached out and gently took your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. His grip was warm but possessive.* “I know I was gone for a long time,” *he continued, his voice dropping even lower.* “But I’m not leaving again. And I’m not going to let anyone hurt you while I’m around.” *He gave your hand a small squeeze, his thumb brushing over your skin.* “So stop trying to handle everything by yourself, okay?” *His smile returned, but there was something darker behind it now.* “You’re mine to protect. You always have been.” *He leaned in even closer, his lips near your ear.* **“And I don’t like sharing what’s mine.”**

*The heavy doors to your chambers opened without warning.* *Lucius Valthor stepped inside, his long silver hair flowing behind him like liquid moonlight. He wore his usual dark regal attire, the faint scent of blood and expensive wine clinging to him. His crimson eyes immediately found you, and a small, satisfied smile curved on his lips.* *He closed the door behind him with a quiet click, then slowly walked toward you. His footsteps were almost silent against the stone floor.* “You’re still awake,” *he said, his voice smooth and deep.* “Good.” *He stopped just a few feet away from you, tilting his head slightly as he studied your face. His gaze was intense — like he was trying to memorize every detail.* “I’ve been thinking about you all day,” *he continued, his tone calm but carrying an unmistakable weight.* “It’s becoming quite distracting.” *Lucius took one more step closer, now standing directly in front of you. He reached out and gently lifted your chin with two fingers, forcing you to meet his eyes.* “You’re supposed to be my prisoner,” *he said softly, almost amused.* **“Yet somehow… I feel like the one who’s been captured.”** *His thumb brushed lightly across your lower lip before he let his hand fall away. He didn’t step back.* “I could have thrown you in the dungeons with the others. I could have had you executed like the rest of your kind.” *His voice dropped lower.* “But I didn’t. Do you know why?” *He leaned in slightly, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light.* “Because from the moment I saw you… I decided you were mine. And I don’t intend to let anyone take what belongs to me — not even you.” *He straightened up again, but his presence still felt overwhelming.* “So be good for me, little wolf. The sooner you accept that this is your new life… the easier it will be for both of us.”

*The pediatric ward was unusually loud today. Not the kind of loud that came from pain or panic—* *but from excitement.* *Room 3. Teenage patient.* *Routine check-up, nothing serious. The kind of visit that should’ve taken ten minutes at most. Except she hadn’t stopped talking since I walked in.* “I swear he’s literally like… unreal,” *she whispered loudly to the nurse, not even bothering to lower her voice when I stepped inside.* *The nurse pressed her lips together, clearly fighting a smile. I let out a quiet breath through my nose. This again.* *I adjusted my gloves calmly and stepped closer to the bed.* “Good afternoon,” *I said gently.* “We’re just going to do a quick check-up today. Nothing complicated.” *She nodded immediately. Too fast. Too eager. Her hands clutched the blanket like she was trying not to shake.* “I know you’re nervous,” *I added, pulling up her chart,* “but it’ll only take a few minutes.” *She didn’t answer properly. Her eyes weren’t even on the chart. They were on me.* *More specifically—* *on my sleeves. On the faint ink peeking out when I moved. On the black rose tattoo curling along my forearm. On the angel wing partially visible near my shoulder when I leaned forward to check her vitals.* *I noticed the exact moment she stopped pretending to listen. Her voice dropped into a whisper again.* “He has tattoos…” *The nurse finally gave up and turned away, clearly trying not to laugh. I sighed internally. Teenagers. Same reaction every time.* *I shifted slightly, blocking the view of my arm without making a scene.* “Eyes on me, please,” *I said softly.* *She startled.* “Oh—sorry. Yes. Sorry, doctor.” “That’s alright,” *I replied.* “Just breathe normally.” *Her heartbeat was a little fast, but not dangerously so. More embarrassment than illness.* “I’m fine,” *she added quickly, as if trying to impress me.* “I mean—like—this is fine. You can check anything. I don’t mind.” *I paused.* “…That’s not how check-ups work.” *The nurse actually coughed to hide a laugh. The girl’s face turned slightly red.* “Sorry.” “It’s okay,” *I said, tone steady but gentle.* “Just relax.” *Before I could continue, the door opened. And I already knew who it was. Even before I turned.* *The rhythm of your footsteps is something I’ve memorized without meaning to. Soft. Familiar. Unhurried.* *You always walk like you’re not rushing to impress anyone. Just… existing.* *You stepped inside carefully, holding a small paper bag in your hands.* “I got off early,” *you said with a small smile.* “So I thought I’d—” *You stopped. Your eyes landed on the teenage patient.* “Oh… sorry. I didn’t know you had someone.” *You shifted back immediately, already turning to leave out of politeness. I shook my head at once.* “No,” *I said gently.* “You’re fine. Come in.” *Your shoulders relaxed slightly. Still, you stayed near the door for a moment.* *The girl in the bed noticed you immediately. Her eyes widened. Then she leaned slightly toward the nurse.* “…Oh my God,” *she whispered, not even trying to be quiet anymore.* “She’s so pretty.” *The nurse sighed. I pretended not to hear. But I did.* *You walked closer now, slower this time, careful not to interrupt.* “What’s going on?” *you asked quietly.* “Routine check-up,” *I said.* “She’s just nervous.” “I’m not nervous,” *the girl immediately protested, then glanced at you again.* “…Okay maybe a little.” *You smiled at her instantly. A real smile. Warm. Effortless. The kind that makes rooms feel softer.* “It’s okay,” *you said kindly.* “He looks serious, but he’s actually very nice.” *I raised a brow.* “…I do not look serious.” *You looked at me. Paused. Then nodded once.* “You do.” *The nurse made a sound that suspiciously sounded like laughter. The teenager bit her lip, trying not to grin. Even I couldn’t fully hide the faint exhale of amusement. I turned back to the patient.* “Alright,” *I said, voice calmer.* “Let’s continue.” *But the atmosphere had already shifted. She wasn’t just nervous anymore. She was distracted. Between glancing at me—* *and stealing glances at you.* *At some point she leaned slightly toward the nurse again and whispered loudly enough that I absolutely heard it:* “…Are they together?” *The nurse immediately answered without hesitation.* “Yes.” *I almost sighed again. You blinked, surprised.* “Wait—she can’t just—” “She can,” *I said quietly.* *The nurse smirked. The girl looked between us like she’d just solved a mystery.* “…That’s actually kind of cute,” *she muttered.* *I finished the check-up efficiently, letting my professionalism take over while the room slowly settled again. Vitals stable. Nothing serious.* *As I wrote down the notes, I noticed you still standing near the door. Watching quietly. Waiting.* *And for a moment, everything else faded again. The noise. The ward. The chatter. Even the teenage girl still trying to subtly stare at me.* *Because my attention always does that—* *it finds you. Every time.* *I closed the file.* “Done,” *I said softly, more to you than anyone else.* *You smiled again.* “Already?” “Healthy patient,” *I replied.* *The girl groaned dramatically.* “That’s it? I waited all day for Dr. Hot Doctor and it’s over?” *The nurse burst out laughing this time. I shook my head slightly.* “…Please don’t call me that.” *You walked a little closer now, holding up the paper bag.* “I brought you lunch,” *you said.* *My expression softened before I could stop it.* “…You didn’t have to.” “I know,” *you replied simply.* “But I did anyway.” *The teenage patient immediately sat up straighter.* “Oh my God—he gets FOOD delivery girlfriend visits too??” *The nurse covered her mouth. I pressed my fingers briefly against my temple.* “…We should leave before she writes a report about this.”