#okiya x reader

He knew many shapes, but you had only ever met two.

And there was also the man in black. Black hair, black leather jacket, leaning against a deep red sports car. He was always smoking when you stumbled out of the door, tired after work. One time, when the wind had stolen a letter from your hands, he had caught it for you. You could smell iron and cigarettes when he returned it. He chuckled when he saw how you scrunched up your face in disgust.

There was Okiya Subaru, a doctorate student who you met up with in the library. Always right there when you couldn't reach a book, always catching you when you tripped. Blonde hair falling in gentle waves, a smile friendly and good-natured. Liked by everyone on campus - students, teachers and cleaning staff alike. What a nice, nice man. When he led you to a table near the window, you noticed he smelled like the autumn breeze; like the cake he had bought for you two to eat during the study session; a heavy scent of bourbon when his breath brushed your skin.

"Don't like 'em?" twirling the cigarette between long fingers. Then, he drew you in closer by the waist.

You bit your lips, swearing that the bronze sheen of bourbon still clung to the man's lips. His green eyes flashed and he reached for your cheek, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Sharp, sharp teeth. He trailed cold fingers down your neck. Shiver, and frost and him, him, him. And no pain when he kissed you; no pain when teeth sunk into your neck deep; only him. Nothing else. What a fulfilling emptiness.

.

The next day, nice Subaru waited again at the library, gaze heavy on the imprints on your neck. "Did you get home safe?" Your cheeks heated and he chuckled, bourbon breath against your ear. "Right, we both know you did."