[yandere!vampires x fem!reader]
★
when the union if two schools, one embodied by humans, the other - vampires - causes four vampires to grow a deep rooted; and obsessive devotion towards one human girl.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THE MORNING WAS BLEAK.
The kind of gray that clung to the sky like smoke, clouds low and heavy with unshed rain. The trees lining the trail were slick with mist, their trunks dark with moisture, their branches twitching under the occasional gust of wind.
Her mind stuck on the note from yesterday, but whether she wanted to or not, Y/N was not about to affect her attendance because of it.
It smelled of damp earth and old leaves. The kind of morning that begged to be spent inside, curled in warmth, not trudging through mud at the whim of a PE teacher who clearly valued cardio over common sense.
But no one at Auragon got what they wanted.
Especially not Y/N.
Despite the warning—the ink-slick scrawl still folded beneath her pillow like a pulse she couldn't quiet—she was here. Standing at the base of a trail that coiled up the side of the forest like some sick joke, rainwater slicking the uneven path into a slide of stones and tangled roots.
She should have told someone about the note. Julia had noticed her tension over breakfast, had even teased her for staring too long at her bowl of cereal like it held the answers to some cosmic riddle. But Y/N hadn't said anything. Not to Julia. Not to Adrian, who now stood further up the trail with his arms crossed and his jaw tight. Not even to Silas, who leaned lazily against a tree like the incline was beneath him.
Of course they were fine. The Diagon students—vampires or whatever else they were pretending not to be—looked barely winded. Adrian's black shirt clung to his frame, damp from the mist but otherwise unbothered. Silas, smug as ever, hadn't even removed his jacket.
"Alright, listen up!" barked Coach Hargrove, clapping his hands like this was a game and not state-sanctioned torture. "We're doing a competitive incline challenge today. First group to the ridge gets out of afternoon drills."
A chorus of groans rippled through the human students, while the supernatural kids straightened like someone had flipped a switch. You could practically see the excitement flash in Adrian's eyes—and the twitch of Silas's lips when he caught it.
"On my whistle!" Coach shouted.
Y/N turned to Julia, who looked like she'd already decided to fake an ankle injury.
"This is hell," Julia whispered, stretching her legs half-heartedly. "This is how I die."
"At least you'll have a scenic view," Y/N muttered, already regretting every life choice that had led her to this cursed hill.
The whistle blew.
Immediately, the front of the group surged forward—a blur of too-long limbs and competitive tension. Silas was gone in a blink, taking the incline in long, predatory strides like he didn't even feel gravity. Adrian followed, silent and sharp, eyes not leaving Silas's back.
