I am in love with that Jk merman story of yourssss , you are such a talented author !!!! Keep it up with the good work .
Even i want to request a prompt after that story because i believe only you have the capability to bring that prompt to life (only if you want to write ofcourse, no pressure )
I have never read an ABO fic with enemies to lovers troupe in modern era , I mean just imagine them being the high-school academic rival wolves who can't bear standing eachother
but the moment they turn 18 and their wolves will develop some special senses and powers, they both will realise that they both are actually mates . damnnn now image the strong pull their wolves will feel towards eachother making them go crazy ( their wolves will fall in love with eachother the moment they will recognize eachother as mate and start rebelling their human counterparts and start convincing them to love eachother too .)
and how bad they will try to hide it , deny their wolves forbid their animal counterparts from eachother only to fail miserably in the end because yeah that mate bond will win 🥹
You can choose any BTS member you want because I love and enjoy reading all seven of them so go for any member you want .
Borahae 💜 , no pressure if you are not interested in writing this prompt , I will still adore you and your work 💜 😘 so feel free to reject this request if you want .
part of the prompt game
pairing: alpha!Jungkook x omega!female reader
genre: fantasy!AU, "E"2L, ABO, high school romance
warnings: Jungkook's the most pitiful teenager in all of existence, bad handling of emotions/feelings, a lot of cliques, denial, a little bit of physical fighting, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth
word count: 2.754
a/n: tysm for all your compliments, I'm so flattered 🫂 I've tweaked your request a tiny bit to fit the character of OC better and left out marking etc. bc they're still so young 🥹 hope that's okay 💕
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He hates you.
No, he loathes your entire existence.
That Miss Perfect attitude, excelling in everything you do as if it’s the easiest task in the world. You’ve been enemies since high school started—not because either of you declared it so, but because Jungkook simply can’t stand you.
You, on the other hand, are oblivious to this feud, always kind and friendly towards everyone, especially Jungkook. He doesn’t understand how you do it, staying so humble and kind towards him when he takes every opportunity to throw jabs your way, or cause you minor inconveniences, like not holding the door open or letting you trip more times than he can count.
It’s infuriating to watch you be so lovely, especially when you’re not only the smartest but also the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen—something he will never admit. Ever.
“Jungkook?” Your soft, sweet voice startles him. He’s been too busy glaring at the papers scattered before him, his thoughts circling back to you. There's no one else in the lecture hall, and he didn’t even realise you’d entered. You seem to appear out of nowhere, catching him off guard. “I think you dropped this.”
You’re smiling again, that blinding smile of yours, starry eyes sparkling with joy, courteous as ever. He wants to scream. He doesn’t want this treatment from you, not when you’re a little older than him—well, only two months, but still. You’re 18 now, with your wolf, while he’s not, which only deepens his resentment. Once again, you’re ahead, better at something.
The whole school talked about your wolf. Despite your gentle nature, everyone was shocked to learn after your first turn that you’re an omega—one of the very few in the city, the only one known in school. It’s yet another thing Jungkook can’t stand, especially now that everyone, wolf or not, showers you with attention.
“Not mine,” Jungkook lies through his teeth, eyeing the pencil still held out towards him in your small, delicate hand, your nails perfectly manicured.
“Oh…” you murmur, glancing down at the pencil, your brows drawing together in disbelief. Of course, you don’t believe him. “But it’s got your initials, and it’s the one you’re always using.”
Damn you! Of course, you know it’s his favourite. He should’ve seen this coming.
“You think I’d use it after your germs have contaminated it?” Jungkook scoffs.
“That’s not very kind.” You purse your lips, those beautiful lips.
“It’s the truth, ___.”
“Is it okay if I keep it?”
What?! “What?” Jungkook can’t believe his ears. Why would you want to keep it?
“Can I keep your pen? It would be a waste to throw it away, especially when it looks so cool.” You repeat, smiling again.
The pencil is cool, and Jungkook has half a mind to just snatch it back, but he won’t give in. He won’t concede even the smallest defeat.
“I don’t care,” he grumbles. It’s enough to make you burst with joy, your face lighting up as you clutch the pencil to your chest.
“Thanks, Jungkook! You’re so kind!”
“Whatever.”
And ‘whatever’ indeed, because seeing you every day with his pencil, as if it’s the most precious thing in the world, drives him mad. He regrets his decision. He wants it back. It’s his, and what’s his should stay his, but it isn’t—and it makes him livid.
Livid in a way that fuels his pettiness, pushing him to new lengths to make your life difficult. He puts fake spiders in your bag, bumps into you when you’re struggling with your food tray in the canteen. But all of it is in vain, because you’re an omega—everyone’s darling. Every time something inconvenient happens to you, a horde of people rushes to your aid.
This alone is enough to make Jungkook reconsider his actions—or rather, the attention he’s giving you. It’s not like you care. It’s not like you treat him any differently when he’s mean. So what’s the point? At some stage, he’s not even sure why he started all this, why he loathes you so much. If he’s honest, you’ve never actually wronged him. Not once. And now, he’s running out of ways to break you, to show everyone your true colours, because no one can be this perfect, right?
It’s the Friday before his birthday weekend when you approach him again, this time holding a small present. You look up at him as he stands by his locker.
“Hey, Jungkook,” you say softly.
“What do you want?”
“Uhm, I know Sunday’s your 18th birthday and… well, I know you didn’t invite me to your party, which is totally fine! Don’t get me wrong! But I just wanted to give you this because it’s a big birthday, right? So, yeah…”
The tiny gift is wrapped in floral paper with a neatly tied bow, and it looks exactly how he imagined your presents would. It screams 'you', and he’s unsure what to say. He reckons he should just take it and thank you, but the way you’re looking up at him, so small and kind despite knowing you weren’t invited, bothers him like a sock slipping off mid-walk.
Jungkook reluctantly takes the present, ignoring the slight relieved droop of your shoulders and how your warm, soft fingers brushed softly against his.
“Thanks,” he mumbles, his eyes transfixed on the gift.
“Happy birthday, Jungkook. I hope it’ll be everything you wanted and beyond.”
And with that, you turn away, a light spring in your step, your hair moving behind you like a fairy’s wings.
Jungkook doesn’t waste any time after you leave, ripping the gift open in a rush of curiosity, only to freeze, stunned, when a tiny jewellery box is revealed to him. He’s never received any jewellery before, and the fact that it’s a gift from you—a female ‘stranger’, no less—makes his nerve endings prickle with discomfort. The idea of receiving something so personal feels wrong somehow, and yet, despite this strange feeling creeping over him, he still finds himself opening the small red box.
Inside, nestled on an equally red velvet cushion, is a delicate necklace with a pendant that bears his initials. It’s the prettiest necklace he’s ever seen, and the worst part is that he can already picture himself wearing it, the style so perfectly matching his aesthetic that it’s rather unsettling.
He carefully takes the necklace from the box, letting it twist and turn in the sunlight, the metal gleaming ever so mesmerising. But that’s when he notices an engraving on the back of the pendant, and as he peers closer, he fights the urge to rub his eyes.
You’ve had ‘alpha’ engraved onto it. There’s no way anyone could be so bold as to assume another person’s future rank, and yet here you are, making such an assumption about him. Jungkook can’t help but think maybe he was right all along—there’s something strange about you. You’re just a little too perfect, a little too confident in your kindness, a little too bold in your presumptions.
Shaking his head, he lets the necklace fall back into the box, snapping it shut and tossing it carelessly into his locker, fully intending to forget about it sooner or later. Out of sight, out of mind, right?
Saturday night and Sunday come and go in a blur of noise, people, and anticipation. Jungkook has invited practically everyone he knows to his birthday party, hoping that with the arrival of his wolf, his mate might finally be revealed as well. But no one who attends is his mate, and this realisation drags his mood dangerously low. He feels a nagging stab in his chest that he can’t shake, made even heavier by the recurring thought that you, little Miss Perfect, were right all along—Jungkook has become an alpha, just as you predicted. Typical.
What infuriates him even more is that on Monday morning, as you—like always—walk past his locker on your way to the lecture hall, the world seems to slow around him. He watches in disbelief as you suddenly stop, staring at him with wide eyes that shimmer with unshed tears. You look stunned, but more than that, you look happy, as though you’ve just discovered something wonderful. And then, in the midst of his confusion, his inner wolf starts to go wild, barking ‘mate’ over and over again, leaping with excitement inside him.
It should be a moment of joy, a moment where he feels relief and happiness in finally knowing who his mate is. But instead, all Jungkook feels is denial, a desperate refusal to accept the truth, even though, deep down, he knows that you’re everything he ever wanted in a mate.
Still, he turns away from you, ignoring the way your face crumples, the way your bright, hopeful tears turn into ones of sadness, the way you rush past him with your head down, leaving his wolf whimpering in confusion and hurt. Jungkook tries to convince himself that this can’t be real, that it can’t be right, even though every part of him knows it’s exactly what he wanted, what he’s been waiting for.
In the days that follow, he struggles to keep up his usual routine of tormenting you, making snide remarks whenever he gets the chance, but there’s no joy in it anymore. You’re not kind to him the way you used to be, not anymore. You don’t smile at him, don’t even really smile at anyone; instead, you accept his cruelty with a resigned, sad look in your eyes and a forced, brittle smile that never quite reaches your eyes.
Each day, it becomes harder and harder for Jungkook to suppress his wolf, who clearly isn’t on the same page with his cold treatment of you. His wolf growls at him, restless and unhappy, frustrated with the way things are. And Jungkook knows—he understands why—but he feels trapped.
How could he possibly make things right after all he’s done to you? How could he ever redeem himself after letting his bitterness and resentment carry him so far? It doesn’t help that the necklace you gave him is now tucked securely under his shirt, the cool metal pendant resting against his chest, near his heart, multiplying the ache that’s slowly but surely forming there as well. He fiddles with it absentmindedly, the action soothing in a way he can’t explain, though it only makes the guilt grow.
“Jungkook?”
He no longer startles when you appear, his wolf always sensing your presence before you even speak, and your voice has become so quiet, so broken, that it doesn’t have the same effect it once did.
Looking at you now, standing there with your eyes downcast and your voice soft, makes him wish he could take it all back—every harsh word, every petty action. He wishes he could go back and rewrite everything, build something good between you instead of tearing it down. But it’s too late for that, far too late, and he knows it.
When he doesn’t respond, you gather the courage to continue, your voice wavering slightly. “I know it’s random, but I noticed your grades haven’t been as good as they used to be. I know you’re not the kind of person who needs help, but… if there’s anything I can do, just let me know, yeah?”
He wants to snap at you, wants to push you away, but he’s so exhausted—exhausted from pretending he doesn’t care, exhausted from pretending he hates you, and most of all, exhausted from fighting this undeniable bond between you.
Tears prick at his eyes, overwhelming him with guilt, frustration, and something else he can’t quite name. He’s so fed up with himself, so trapped in the mess he’s made that he doesn’t know how to fix it, doesn’t even know where to start.
“Hey… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” you say, your voice tinged with panic now as you shift nervously on the spot, your hands reaching out towards him only to pull back, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry…”
“Stop!” Jungkook yells, and the sound of his own voice surprises him. You flinch, your entire body recoiling as if he’s physically struck you, your trembling hands clasping tightly in front of you.
“I… I’m sorry.” Your bottom lip quivers, and before Jungkook can say anything else, you turn and run, disappearing down the hall, leaving him standing there with the misery of his guilt pressing down harder than ever.
To think it couldn’t get worse was the stupidest thought Jungkook ever had, because it got worse. Not only did his little outburst suffocate him in guilt, but it also made you avoid him every chance you got. It also didn’t help that most people noticed your changed persona, adding one plus one and recognising Jungkook as the culprit.
He doesn’t fault them, doesn’t really mind the insults coming his way, of being heartless for not wanting a mate like you, when he knows they speak the truth. He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve someone who he clearly hurts without a true reason.
And the way his inner wolf retreats now from him too, is something he understands as well, because there’s literally nothing he could do to mend what he’s broken.
It’s one afternoon after classes have just finished, and he’s walking out of the school when he notices you cornered against the wall by some other alphas, three in total. Jungkook’s immediately enraged, and it’s then that his wolf rises to full strength, baring his teeth and growling violently.
You’re clearly uncomfortable, clearly scared of what might happen, especially when one of these alphas gets in your face, giving you no way to escape. The last straw for Jungkook is when one runs his filthy finger along your beautiful face.
“Hey!” Jungkook roars, storming towards the alphas who have now turned to laugh in his face. “Back off.”
“What?! She’s fair game.” One mocks, while you’re still pressed against the wall, but your eyes are hopefully locked onto Jungkook.
“I said back off my mate.”
They do, but only to now lunge at Jungkook, thinking that outnumbering him will shoo him away. But it doesn’t—Jungkook won’t let anyone else touch you, his wolf and himself ready to do anything to protect you. And so, Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to take each one of them down.
Driven by adrenaline, he doesn’t notice the sting of the hits he couldn’t block, but it’s nothing compared to the urge to protect you with all he has, all he is.
One after the other falls to the floor, while blood trickles from his split lip, knuckles burning and swollen, his chest still heaving, his wolf still angrily jabbing at the air.
“Jungkook?” His eyes snap up to you when you call for him, and he’s relieved to find no repulsion or fear in them when they lock onto him.
“Are you okay?”
“Thank you,” you nod, and his wolf wags his tail, barking mate, deafening all his other senses.
“Good."
“I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologising?”
You hesitate, and it makes him feel powerless all over again, but eventually you whisper, “Because I’m not who you wanted.”
It’s broken, it’s defeated, and it’s everything he never wanted his mate to say, because it’s not the truth. Never was. Never will be.
“But you are.” Jungkook tries to smile, despite knowing it’s not hopeful or kind, but sad in all the ways his decisions led it to be.
“I am?”
Seeing your eyes gradually returning to their lively, sparkly self is more than he ever wished to witness, more than he ever should receive, but everything he ever wanted.
“You are. Always were.”
And with that, he opens his arms, stepping over the still-groaning alphas to get closer to you.
With a push off the wall, you sprint into Jungkook’s arms, tears of relief running down your cheeks as he embraces you like you wished he would from the start. But it doesn’t matter, because no time apart could ruin the feeling of him embracing you and your bond.
“I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles into your hair, inhaling the magnificent scent of you.
“It’s fine, everything’s fine.”
And as you cling to him, your wolves finally as content as you are, you know that you’d never change a thing, because it’s better to be loved willingly than with no other choice.
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You and I, We’ve Grown Comfortable Here
Pairing: Lee x Reader
Summary: Two outcasts with nowhere to go decides to go nowhere together. In each other they find shelter, acceptance, intrigue and a bond neither expected to go as deep as it does.
Words: 13.6k
Warnings: not proofread, basically five fics in one (a year of their relationship developing), assault, hints at sexual assault, implied attempted rape, death, murder, cannibalism (bones&all hello), make-out sessions, blood, implied smut(?), panic attacks, implied abusive parents, kicked out of home, living in a car, crying, angst, slow burn, cannibals in love, hurt/much comfort, happy ending, lee's truck being a character in and of itself
A/N: i am so unwell, i wrote this whole thing in the span of ONE day. this man makes me unwell. anyway, if i ever write any other fics or drabbles for lee, unless otherwise specified, presume it is based on this background because i am obsessed with these two.
***
When you saw the headlights, your heart caught in your throat just a little. It was late, too late to be out walking down a relatively abandoned countryroad, too late to even be awake. With only the stars for company, you were dragging your feet as you were walking in the hopes of hitting a camping site soon. You had heard good rumours of one not far away from the town you are putting in your rearview mirror. Metaphorically of course, with no driving liscense or car, all you had to get from one place to another were your shoes and your bravery.
It had been a couple of months since you left home. Whenever you had the opportunity to sleep, you could still hear the shouting and the slamming of doors when your father finally threw you out for good. The home in question had never felt safe for you anyway, you had never fit into the small town cookie cutter they tried to press you into, even when it drew blood.
After all that, you might be best off alone you concluded, and have stuck to that as you made your way through the US. There was nowhere in particular you wanted to go, you just did not want to be tied down anywhere. You wanted to see, explore and feel.
You had been dabbling in hitchhiking over the months, always sending a silent prayer to gods you did not believe in before getting into the strange cars. With a knife always in the pocket of your hoodie, you felt relatively secure that you could defend yourself if worse comes to worse. Yet you knew you can never truly know. You tried to keep your head on you still.
There had not been any cars on the road you were currently occupying for the past two hours. It had, for a glorious moment, felt like yours. Just you and the pavement and the night. So, when the headlights lit you up for behind, you grew a bit weary. Part of you wanted to jump in it, unsure of how long you had left until the campsite, tired to the bone, but you knew you shouldn’t at this hour.
But you were also so incredibly tired.
The rumble of the engine neared closer and the driver dimmed the headlights. On your left, the car drove into view, an old beat up truck, and it was slowing down to stop beside you. Leaning over the passenger seat, a young man peered out through the rolled down window, a messy head of freshly dyed hair shining like a beacon in the dark. He watched you with a face torn between curios and cautious.
“You good?” he called out, trying to be heard over the noise of his car.
You didn’t answer right away. Instinct told you to keep walking, to keep your head down and stay invisible like you’d been doing all night. But something about him made you stop.
You squinted through the light. “What do you think?”
He let out a breathy laugh, the kind that was more habit than humor. "Yeah, didn’t think so." His voice was rough, not unfriendly, but sharp around the edges. He glanced down the empty road and then back at you. "Need a ride or something?"
Every ride so far had been a risk, a quiet leap of faith, and it wasn’t like you had a good track record with trusting people. Your parents had made sure of that, kicking you out like it was nothing, like you were the problem for being too loud, too you.
Still, you couldn’t keep walking forever. And there was something intriguing about this boy, out here alone in the night, just like you.
“I guess that’s where we’re at tonight,” was your response, and he nodded immediately with a halfsmile.
“Fair enough. Where you headed?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Same,” he said, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other across the empty road. Something about him felt different — like he wasn’t just another passerby. You weren’t scared. Maybe that should’ve worried you.
He threw the passenger side door open. “You coming, or what?”
"Depends," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You a serial killer or something?"
He smirked, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes, something guarded. "Not tonight."
"Comforting," you deadpanned, but you found yourself stepping closer to the truck anyway.
He watched you climb in with a kind of steady calm, like he was waiting for you to make the call. There wasn’t an ounce of threat in him, no leering or weird comments, just quiet, detached curiosity.
The truck smelled faintly of gasoline and something else, something metallic that made the back of your throat tighten, but you ignored it. There was a quiet ease to him, though, like he wasn’t thinking of you as prey – like he wasn’t thinking of you at all, really. He just… was. And it felt like enough.
The silence stretched between you as the truck rumbled down the road. Finally, you turned to him, curiosity itching at your thoughts.
“So, you pick up girls off the side of the road often, or am I just lucky?”
He gave you a side glance, something like amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “Lucky’s a word for it.”
There was something raw in his eyes when he said it, a guarded edge you recognized. You didn’t push it.
“I heard there is a campsite in the town over, I was thinking of maybe staying the night there,” you said, not wanting him to feel stuck with you in the car forever.
“The Meadows Site? Yeah, I was actually thinking of parking there for the night myself,” he said, giving you a curious glance before looking back to the road. “But it is a few more hours off.”
“Wow, I really am lucky you picked me up then.”
He snorted at that, a sound you somehow hadn’t expected to escape from him, but was amused to hear. You didn’t feel a need to chat further at the moment, and didn’t get the impression he did either. It was not uncomfortable though, the opposite actually. The atmosphere in his truck was comforting, to the point where you would almost fall asleep, though you really should not. Still, there was one thing left to ask.
“What’s your name, kind stranger?” you quipped, teasing tone evident in your voice. He smiled fully then, relaxing more into his seat.
“Lee. And yours, lucky girl?”
You told him your name and settled back into your seat yourself, watching the stars blur into the dark as the truck carried you further and further from everything you’d ever known.
***
It turned out you both had nowhere to go. No one waiting for you at the end of the line. No real reason for him to drive off without you the morning after your night spent in Meadows Site. He had borrowed you a blanket to lay on, thicker than the one you had been surviving on for a while now. After eating breakfast at a shop nearby that he showed you, clearly more familiar in the area than you, it just made sense to get back into the truck with him. That’s how you both rationalised it, as your eyes sparked with interest and entertainment whenever they met. Just made sense.
From that day, Lee’s truck became the closest you had had to a home in months. Maybe even years.
The miles between you and the world grew, but so did the distance between you and the versions of yourselves you left behind. You had nothing to offer each other apart from company, and nothing to lose from spending your days with one another.
It became easy, almost too easy. Long stretches of road, music humming through the truck's radio, filling the space between the two of you. Conversations about nothing that meant everything — favorite songs, old memories that still hurt, silly stories from childhood, tragedies that were so massive it became intrinsically hilarious to you both, Stories you told in the dead of night when the world felt softer, more forgiving.
Lee felt true in a way no other had. His company was comfortable, natural. A genuine friend that you could tease, maybe even flirt with a little when the mood struck. Nothing serious you would say. All in good fun, teenagers cruising through the Midwestern countryside.
It felt like forever, though it had only been a few weeks. The truck was a much better bed than the thin blanket you had relied on since you left the house you grew up in. You’d sleep in the backseat, sometimes curled up in the trunk with blankets piled up like a nest. On rare occasions, when exhaustion weighed you both down, you’d spring for a cheap motel, a temporary reprieve from the road.
The more you got to know Lee, the more that sense you had gotten about him on the night you met grew. Something was different about him, something you could taste on your tongue, a kind of unspoken understanding that simmered beneath the surface. You couldn’t explain it, not exactly, but there was something in Lee that reminded you of someone else. It wasn’t just the way he moved or the sharp look in his eyes – it was the way he held himself, the way he watched people, sizing them up like he knew more about them than they’d ever want to know.
You had known someone like that before.
Your uncle.
Your family never talked about him, not after he disappeared, but you remembered the day it happened like a movie in your mind. The last time you saw him. He had come to visit, just passing through, or so he said. You were young, but not young enough to forget the blood that stained his clothes, how his face was drawn, pale, like he was barely holding it together. How his teeth were off-white in a way you had never seen before. He had brushed it off when you asked him, saying he had gotten into a fight, nothing serious, but the way he smelled… it stuck with you.
The metallic tang of blood, the way it clung to him even after he cleaned up, how his eyes seemed wild and unfocused in the dim light of the kitchen. You could never explain it to someone without sounding insane. But yet somehow, you knew what he was. You knew.
Your parents didn’t say much about it then. They just watched him with wary eyes, their faces tight with something close to fear, though they never admitted it. When he left, they didn’t even look at that, and once he was gone they removed all photographs. They never mention him again, not even when you asked. It was like he had never existed. Like he had never even been part of the family.
You never met someone like him again, someone you could feel deep in your bones.
Until Lee. The Lee you looked at as he drove nonchalantly down roads, almost too relaxed to be sitting in a driver’s seat. He made all those pieces you had tucked away begin to slot together, forming a picture that put words to your instincts. The way your uncle had looked that night, the way your own body sometimes seemed to hum with something restless, it was all there, just waiting for you to acknowledge it.
You did not bring it up to him, it never seemed natural. And honestly, you didn’t feel the need to. For some reason, the idea of it all didn’t bother you. Lee was just Lee still, your road companion.
One night, you and Lee had parked the truck somewhere far off the main road, the stars stretched out like a tapestry above you. It was late, the kind of late where the world felt quieter, where the darkness seemed deeper, more honest. You were lying on a blanket in the bed of the truck, side by side, the silence between you comfortable but heavy, like something was waiting to be said.
The two of you had shared a lot already, more than you thought you had in you to share. He was still technically a strange man to you, it had not yet been a month. Still, you felt a bond with him you could not explain. His presence brought you peace in a world too large for you to grasp.
You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the way his fingers twitched restlessly by his side, like he was working through something in his head. Lee had been quieter than usual lately, more thoughtful, more distant. You didn’t push him – he was always like that, a little withdrawn when he was trying to sort through whatever was going on in his head. But tonight, it felt different. More pointed.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Do you… know?"
The question caught you off guard. It was so vague, so quiet, that for a second, you weren’t sure if you had heard him right. You turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were still fixed on the stars above, his expression unreadable in the dim light. There was something in his tone, though. Cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you would answer. Like he was afraid to hear it.
You swallowed, your heart picking up speed. "Know what?"
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he shifted slightly, still not looking at you. It seemed like he had hoped you would not ask. He was always careful, always measured with his words, but this time, you could tell he was holding something back. He exhaled slowly, and then, without turning his head, he said it again, this time more direct.
"About me. About what I am."
There was no uncertainty in you about what he was referring to. There it was, the thing you had been skirting around, the thing neither of you had spoken aloud. You knew, deep down, that this conversation had been coming for a while, with all the time you spent together, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt like a stone settling in your chest.
Your mind raced, memories of your uncle flashing through your thoughts, the blood on his hands, the way your parents had never spoken about him again. The way it all lingered in you like electricity.
You nodded slowly, your voice quiet. "Yeah. I know."
Lee didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, the way his body seemed to coil like a spring, ready to snap. His fingers drummed lightly against the truck bed, a habit he had when he was nervous, though he’d never admit it.
You wondered how he knew to ask you, if he had seen it in your eyes. You guessed you could ask him. But this moment hung in the air between you with such fragility. It felt like something had shifted irreversibly between you, and you were not yet certain if it was a good thing or not.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. "And you… don’t care? Or what? You don’t wanna leave?"
You turned to him fully, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at his face. The starlight cast shadows over his sharp features, but his eyes—his eyes were clear, burning with something raw, something vulnerable he never let anyone else see. They were straining to remain trained on the sky.
"I’m not scared of you, Lee," you said softly, your voice steady but firm. "Or of it. I know who you are. And I know you’re a good person."
Lee’s breath hitched, just for a moment, barely noticeable, but you caught it. His eyes finally flickered toward you, the walls he kept up so carefully starting to crack. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He just stared at you, a thousand thoughts racing behind his eyes, none of them quite making it out.
He swallowed hard, his voice dropping even lower when he finally spoke. "You don’t even know what I’ve done."
"I don’t need to," you said, your gaze locked on his. "I know you. I’ve been with you this long, and I think I have known all along. And I’m still here."
He stared at you for a long moment, his brow furrowed like he couldn’t believe what you were saying, like he was waiting for you to change your mind. But when you didn’t, when you just kept looking at him like none of it scared you, like you weren’t about to run, something in him seemed to shift. The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little, and he let out a slow, shaky breath.
"Why are you not afraid?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
You shook your head, almost wanting to laugh. “You’re just Lee to me.”
Lee looked away again, his eyes tracing the stars, but his mind was far from the night sky. The silence stretched between you once more, but this time, it wasn’t heavy with tension. It felt lighter. Like a weight had been lifted, even if he wasn’t ready to say it yet.
You settled back in beside him, arm grazing his. Comfortable.
For the first time in a long while, Lee let himself relax. He was always aloof, physically all over the place, but his mind remained alert. Now, he let it fall onto the pillow your words provided. He realized then, though he didn’t say it out loud, that the tightness in his chest, the thing he had been fighting for weeks, it wasn’t just nothing. He didn’t want to think the word, let alone say it. It had crept in slowly, so quietly that he hadn’t noticed it until it was staring him in the face.
Love didn’t feel safe to him. Love was complicated, messy. Dangerous, even. And yet, here you were, sitting beside him, telling him you weren’t afraid, telling him you knew who he was and that it didn’t matter. That you’d stay.
It was a feeling he didn’t know how to name. Not yet.
He turned back to you, his eyes softer now, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re really not gonna leave, huh?"
You laughed a little at how he shared it like a revelation, shaking your head. "Nope. You’re stuck with me."
Lee let out a breathy laugh, a sound that seemed to ease the last bit of tension between you. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since he met you, he felt something close to hope. He didn’t say it, but in that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep you by his side.
"I could get used to that," he murmured, his voice quiet but sincere.
And as the two of you sat there, side by side under the stars, the unspoken understanding between you deepened, solidified. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t afraid. And for Lee, that was enough.
You fell asleep side by side, just you and the stars.
***
Nights passed like that, over weeks and months, with you and him slowly gravitating closer.
Whether it be in the seats of the truck or the trunk, you always slept near each other. Originally you slept on either side of the trunk, or in each your seat, but as you spent most of your nights talking until either one of you passed out, it just felt natural to be close by.
Waking up with your limbs accidentally having gotten entangled, faces closer than you ever would be when conscious became a norm. The first time it happened, Lee woke first, but did not move until you woke, revelling in the touch of your body against his. Eyes studying your calm face, fully convinced this would be his only opportunity to be this close to you. When you came to, he pretended your movements woke him.
Neither of you spoke of it. There was no need to. Some things didn’t need words.
The more you got used to waking up entangled, the more intimate it became. You would find yourself laying on top of Lee’s chest, or his face would be tucked into the crook of your neck. Once this started happening, you both happened to begin to prefer sleeping in the trunk.
Despite your increasing comfort with each other, the nights were never completely peaceful. Sometimes you would wake up to find him gone, wandering somewhere. It was usually in the aftermath of a nightmare, but you also knew that he sometimes had other reasons for being gone.
You woke up in the middle of the night, the truck’s trunk feeling too empty, too cold. Instinctively, your hand reached over the space where Lee usually lay beside you, but all you felt was the crumpled fabric of his jacket. He wasn’t there. For a few seconds, you blinked in the darkness, groggy, your mind slow to catch up with the situation. The air felt wrong, too still, too quiet. That was when you noticed the faint sounds of movement just beyond the trees, down near the creek.
When possible, you two tried to park near a body of water, so you had the opportunity to wash up. You had also mentioned to Lee how relaxing you found lakes, and he started planning his routes around it after that.
You could hear heavy breathing and splashing by the water. Without thinking, you slipped out of the trunk, pulling on one of Lee’s hoodies he had discarded beside your blankets, and you quietly padded down toward the sounds. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the water, and that was when you saw him.
Lee was crouched near the edge of the creek, his shoulders tense, his hands dipped in the water. The pale light from the moon caught on his skin, but more than that, it illuminated the dark smudges smeared across his neck and arms. Blood.
He had not heard you yet, too focused on what he was doing – trying to scrub the blood away with frantic, almost desperate movements. He was shaking, his body too tense, like he was on the verge of unraveling. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, the material soaked in water and blood. His hair, usually a mess of carefully maintained chaos, stuck to his forehead in sweat-soaked strands.
For a moment, you didn’t move. You just watched him, heart aching at how broken he looked. It wasn’t like the Lee you were used to. This wasn’t the confident, quippy guy who could brush off anything with a smirk. No, this was the other side of him, the side he didn’t let you see. The one that carried all the weight of what he did, of who he was. The one that bled in more ways than just physically.
“Lee?” Your voice was soft, careful. You didn’t want to startle him, but you couldn’t just stand there, watching him like this.
He froze for a moment, his hands stilling in the water. He didn’t look up at you right away, just stared down at his own reflection rippling in the creek. “Go back to the truck,” he said, his voice rough, a little shaky. “I’m fine.”
But you could hear it. He wasn’t fine. Not even close.
A closer look at where he was sitting, you could see that he wasn’t fine physically either, his torn shirt revealing scratches across his upper body, bruises already forming along his arms in the moonlight. Whoever encountered your Lee tonight had put up a fight.
You ignored him, stepping closer, your bare feet sinking into the wet grass near the water’s edge. “You’re hurt.”
He let out a harsh breath, finally looking up at you. His face was pale, a little gaunt under the moonlight. His eyes, usually so sharp and full of something unreadable, were glassy. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, turning back to the water. “I’m just cleaning up.”
But you could see the way his hands trembled, how his movements were too rough, too quick, like he was trying to scrub the guilt away more than the blood. You stepped closer until you were beside him, crouching down at his level.
“Lee, look at me.”
He didn’t. His jaw tightened, and he kept scrubbing, the water turning pink as it mixed with the blood on his skin.
"Lee," you said again, firmer this time, reaching out to gently touch his arm.
He finally stopped, his hands hovering just above the surface of the water, but still wouldn’t look at you. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he muttered, voice raw. “You weren’t supposed to—” He cut himself off, his shoulders hunching forward like he was folding into himself. “Shit.”
"What is wrong with me seeing this?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the outline of a bruise forming along his arm. "Why do you have to fix it yourself?"
He swallowed hard, still staring at the water. "Because you don’t need to deal with this. With me. You didn’t sign up for… any of this." His voice wavered at the edges, frustration mixing with exhaustion.
You shook your head, biting back the sting in your own chest. "You think I care about blood? About this? I knew what I was getting into, I told you so. If you’re hurt, I want to help."
He finally looked at you then, his expression flickering with something like disbelief. “You shouldn’t have to… see me like this. Like some… fuckin’ monster. No, no.”
“You’re not a monster,” you said firmly, and you didn’t waver. You tightened your grip on his forearm. You could see the bruises, the blood streaking down his neck in shapes that looked like somebody had scratched at him, put up a fight. You saw the way he clenched his jaw like he was holding everything in, trying not to crack open. You saw the way his eyes flickered with guilt, shame, like he couldn’t stand himself in that moment. The same boy that laughed with you in the car, who played jokes on strangers. Who usually tried to seem totally content with this lifestyle of his.
"Yes, I am," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You don’t… understand what it’s like. To have to do this, to –"
"I don’t have to understand everything," you cut him off, your hand sliding up to his neck, gently brushing through his damp hair. "But I know you. And I know you don’t have to do this alone. That is my choice, and I choose to be here for you."
He let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment like he was trying to pull himself together. But when he opened them again, you saw the vulnerability in them, the rawness that he tried so hard to keep hidden. He was struggling, fighting to keep himself together, to not fall apart in front of you.
You sat down beside him fully now, your knees brushing his, your hand still resting at the back of his neck. “Let me help.”
He hesitated, his pride fighting against the offer, but he was too tired to resist for long. Slowly, he nodded, his body slumping in defeat as he let you take over.
You helped him take of his torn t-shirt, leaving him bare to reflect the moonlight, and dipped it into the creek. The cold water soaking through the fabric as you carefully brought it back up to his skin, gently wiping away the dried blood from his face, his arms. He winced slightly when you dabbed at a few deeper cuts near his ribs, but he didn’t pull away.
"You don’t have to pretend with me," you said quietly, your eyes focused on cleaning him up. "You don’t have to be strong all the time."
Lee didn’t respond right away. He just watched you, his eyes following the way you moved, the way your touch was soft, careful. He let out a low breath, something like relief mixing with the exhaustion in his voice. “I hate that you’re seeing me like this.”
“Why?” You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re hurt? Or because you’re human?”
He laughed roughly at that, shaking his head slightly. “I haven’t felt human in a long time.”
You paused, your hand stilling for a moment before you continued cleaning the blood from his neck. “You feel human to me.”
He went quiet again, his eyes studying you, the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away from the mess of him. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the gentle ripple of the creek as you worked, the soft splash of water as you wrung out the bloody fabric.
“He-” Lee began but his voice broke. You were patient, continuing to tend to him as he seemed to wrestle with whether to continue the sentence. Eventually: “He was a bad guy. I always try to make sure they are.”
It broke your heart to hear the pleading undertone of what he was saying. What he was trying to convey to you.
You weren’t entirely sure what the best response was, but you settled on telling him you believed him.
When you were done, you leaned back slightly, your hands resting on your thighs as you looked him over. He still had some bruises that would take time to heal, but most of the blood was gone, his skin clean again under the moonlight. None of his scratches were in need of any serious medical intervention, but you made a mental note to stop by a pharmacy in the morning regardless.
“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Better.”
Lee stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this.”
You closed your eyes, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “I want to.”
For a long moment, he didn’t move, just stayed there, eyes closed and his forehead resting against yours. His breath slowly steadying as he let himself lean on you, just for a little while.
“Thank you,” he murmured, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.
You smiled slightly, your hand moving to the back of his neck again, gently threading your fingers through his hair. “I told you. You’re not alone.”
“Not alone,” he mumbled and wiggled his forehead against yours briefly before pulling back and getting up.
He stretched a hand out to you, ready to pull you back with him to the truck.
***
A few states had ended up in your rearview mirror since you turned that creek pink and your hearts slightly softer. The atmosphere between you had shifted yet again, growing deeper and deeper each time. There was no acknowledgement of it, but there didn’t need to be. In the unspokeness, you could grow bolder. The touches, the glances, they took up more and more space in your increasingly small truck. You would yet again wake up in each other’s arms, and it no longer felt accidental.
It was the small things, too. The way his hand would brush yours when you walked side by side, or how he let his fingers linger a moment longer when you passed him something. The way your legs would press together in the truck when you shared the cramped front seat, neither of you moving away. Sometimes, when the truck was pulled off the road and you were both leaning against it, talking under the stars, his knee would bump against yours, and instead of pulling back, he let it stay there.
It felt like you were both waiting for something. The tension was not sharp, it was warm, almost inviting. You both knew what was next, but neither of you had made the move to cross that last, thin line.
You and Lee had spent the evening like you always did—driving, talking, letting the hours slip away into easy silences and the occasional laugh. Planning where to head to next. You had decided to drive to see the silliest places you could find, asking random strangers was the weirdest tourist attraction they have heard of is. On the list is Ben and Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard, the world largest ball of paint and a nuclear waste adventure trail. The night had come over you, and you ended up parked on the outskirts of a town, the lights from them illuminating you even in the dark. The two of you sat on the hood of the truck, your legs dangling off the edge, shoulders brushing.
He was quieter tonight. You could sense it in the way his gaze kept drifting over to you, then back to the stars. His hand rested on the metal beside you, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm, like he was thinking through something he had not decided on yet. But it wasn’t the usual restlessness that seemed to rule Lee’s entire existence. This was something different. Something quieter.
You nudged him gently with your shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet for a guy who never shuts up.”
He huffed a laugh, his head tilting toward you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
You smiled, your eyes catching the faint light of the stars reflecting in his. It was moments like this that you felt the pull most strongly – the way his face softened when he wasn’t trying to keep his guard up, the way he let you see parts of him he didn’t show anyone else. There was something magnetic about Lee when he wasn’t hiding. It made you want to keep his doors open, to take them off their hinges.
His hand shifted, almost imperceptibly, his fingers brushing against yours on the deck of the trunk. It was barely a touch, just the faintest hint of skin against skin, but you felt it like a jolt, a reminder of how close you both were. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he.
The silence stretched between you again, thick with something unspoken. It struck you how much serenity you felt in your soul in the silences with him, even when there was something brewing in it. You could feel him beside you, the warmth of him, the way his breath had slowed, his body still as if he was waiting for something.
Your fingers twitched, brushing against his again, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. You turned your hand over, palm up, an invitation as much as it was a question. Lee glanced down at your hand, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, like he had so many times before. But instead, his fingers curled slowly around yours, his grip gentle but sure, and your breath caught in your throat.
Neither of you spoke. The understanding that had hung between you for weeks was right there, all you had to do was lean into it.
“Lee,” you whispered, not even sure what you were asking. You liked having his name in your mouth.
He turned his body towards you at his name, shifting closer, eyes locked on yours. You could see the hesitation there, the way his brow furrowed slightly, like he was still fighting something inside himself, still holding back.
But you weren’t. Not anymore.
You leaned in, closing the space between you before you could second-guess yourself, your lips brushing his softly, testing. Just once, enough to give him an out, enough to say I’m here, if you are.
For a moment, nothing happened. Lee stayed perfectly still against you, his breath caught, his fingers tightening around yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in further, his lips pressing back against yours, soft and warm. Open mouthed, lovingly.
It wasn’t rushed or desperate like you might have imagined. It was careful, deliberate, like he was letting himself feel it for the first time, like he wanted to make sure it was real. His free hand came up, brushing lightly against your jaw, his fingers tracing the edge of your face, almost as if he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on.
You deepened the kiss further, savouring his touches, the feeling of his tongue against yours. Your hand glided up to his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Slow but steady, the tension between you finally breaking in the gentlest way possible. It was like everything that had been building between you – every touch, every glance, every unspoken word – was spilling into that moment, into the way his lips moved against yours, into the way he held you like you were the only thing to hold.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Lee’s eyes were still closed, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if grounding himself in the moment, his lips parted, trying to catch his breath.
You stayed like that for a while, it didn’t matter how long. Few things mattered, you had found. Lee did.
When he finally opened his eyes, they were unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen before. He didn’t smile, but the look in his eyes said enough. He was here, with you, in whatever this was.
He whispered your name, a late response.
You hummed with a smile, your fingers still tangled in his shirt. No words were needed. There were none that could be said, not now, not yet.
Lee chuckled softly, a sound that felt more like relief than anything else. He slid down from leaning against the truck, to laying on the deck, still not letting go of your hand. You followed suit, for the first time purposefully laying your body half on top of his, head resting on his chest.
No more waiting.
There was a whole civilisation right before you, just out of reach, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about the next destination. You were here, together, and that was all that mattered.
***
Once that barrier was breached, you and Lee found yourself stealing kisses of varying intensity more often than not. There was no label on the two of you, with your pasts you both were guarded from being the first to admit the intensity behind your actions. Yet, the need to be close was not dissipating as the days passed, if anything it only grew the more of a taste you got for each other.
One night, you found yourselves at a dive bar on the edge of some no-name town. The music thumped through the walls, too loud and too fast, but it matched the energy buzzing between you and Lee. The dim lights made everything look a little hazy, like the whole world was moving in slow motion. Lee leaned against the bar, his back to the crowd, his eyes fixed on you as you stood close to him, sipping on a cheap cider that barely tasted like anything. He hadn’t drank much tonight, which made the way he was looking at you feel even more intense.
There was something magnetic about him, the way he carried himself, the way his arm seemed to naturally find its way around your shoulders when in public, protective and possessive without being overbearing. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, and you leaned into it, enjoying the comfort of his touch.
It was late, and the air between you was only magnifying your need for him, his fingers barely touching yours on the bartop like he was daring you to pull him closer. He only moved them to order another round from the bartender, shooting you a wicked grin.
“Thoughts?” he asked you as he handed you your new drink.
“This place isn’t too bad. The guy at the bar isn’t either.” The smile you flashed him was teasing and he all but rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I guess we’re both alright.”
You were about to make some quip about his soft spot for dive bars when a figure caught your eye, and you tensed. A guy had sidled up to the bar a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you, too interested, too familiar. You glanced at Lee, but he was already clocking the guy, his body going still beside you, though his expression didn’t change.
The guy stumbled closer, his drink sloshing in his hand. “You two look like you’re having a good time,” he slurred, his gaze flicking between you and Lee with a smirk that made your skin crawl.
Lee’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away from the guy. His look could draw blood, but his voice stayed calm, almost flat. “We were.”
The guy either didn’t notice your discomfort and Lee’s adverse stance, or he just didn’t care. He leaned in a little closer, still grinning like this was all a joke. “Come on, man. Just trying to talk to her.”
You didn’t have time to respond before Lee shifted, his arm moving in one fluid motion to slide around your waist, pulling you against him in a way that felt natural, like he was drawing a line in the sand. “She’s not interested,” he said, voice low and steady, but you could feel the warning beneath the surface.
The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Lee’s calm intensity, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, man, no need to get all protective. Just having fun.”
Lee kept staring him down, his grip on you tight, steadying you as much as he was putting space between you and the guy. “Well, you’re done,” he said, still in that same measured tone, like he wasn’t giving the guy a choice in the matter. “Go back to your drink.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, backing off with a muttered, “Alright, alright. Chill.” Slunking back into the crowd, he cast a few annoyed glances over his shoulder, but lacked the bravery to follow up on his annoyance.
Lee’s body was still taut with that lingering tension, eyes scanning the room again before he finally let out a breath. He didn’t pull away from you though, his hand resting on your hip as if he needed the contact to remind himself that you were alright.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice softer now as he finally looked down at you, concern flickering behind his eyes.
“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to take in what just happened and how swiftly Lee handled it. Never before have you gotten away from a situation with a creepy man so fast.
“Are you?” you eventually asked, looking up to see his jaw still slightly clenched.
He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down to meet your eyes. "Yeah. Just don’t like guys like that."
You smiled a little, leaning into him, your hand resting lightly on his chest. "I noticed."
His lips quirked into a small grin, and it felt easy again, back to just the two of you, even in this crowded bar. "You ready to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against your skin now that you stood so close.
“Think so.” You finished your drink and without another word, he took your hand, leading you out into the cool night air.
The bar’s noise faded into the background as the two of you walked back to the truck, your fingers still intertwined with his. There was something about the way he was holding your hand that made your heart race. It was tighter than normal, his thumb brushing over your skin.
You stopped by the passenger side door and Lee immediatley closed the gap between you, pressing you gently against the side of the truck. His hands rested on your hips, it was as if he had realised he could place them there now. When his gaze met yours, his eyes flickered with something dangerous, something raw.
"You know," he murmured, his voice rough, "I will always protect you. In any situation.”
You almost didn’t know what to say. It was so simple, yet he poured so much emotion into those words, and you felt them entirely.
“I do know,” you whispered. “I have never felt safety like this before.” The last part felt like a confession more than an answer.
Lee’s breath hitched and he laid his forehead against yours, leaning more of his body against yours, so you were flush between him and the metal of the car.
“I’ve been trying not to kiss you all night. You’ve made it difficult.” Lee looked into your eyes as he said it, searching your face for a reaction. His pupils were wide, gaze intense.
You felt a shiver run through you at his words, the heat between you burning brighter. "Then stop trying."
He didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips crashed into yours with a force that knocked the breath out of you, one hand sliding up to grip your face while the other remained held your hips tighter, closer. His kisses were always languid, open-mouthed and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair and pulling at it as you kissed him back with equal intensity, your body arching against his. His mouth was warm and demanding, and when he kissed you, it felt like everything else in the world fell away.
The kiss deepened quickly, his hands moving up under your shirt, the cool air mixing with the heat of his touch. His mouth trailed down to your jaw, your neck, each kiss igniting sparks along your skin. You gasped softly, tilting your head to give him better access, your fingers travelling to dig into the skin of his back
"God," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless, like he could barely control himself.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, merging under the stars, the truck a silent witness to the way your bodies moved together, the way you couldn’t seem to get close enough. You lost track of time, lost track of everything except the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your skin. He was beginning to become your Lee.
***
Living with Lee changed you in many ways, but the most important was that for the first time in your life, you felt free. Whether it was the boy’s attitude or his attentiveness to you, or the roads that stretched for miles like ink on paper, you settled into your own body and existence. You owned yourself and your destiny in a way you didn’t think possible.
As you shared more of yourselves with each other, you realised just how repressed you had been, just how much of you had been shut off. In your newfound safety in Lee, you could open up.
Things long locked away were stirring within you. Some painful, some exciting. And some, you didn’t have the words to describe yet.
For the time being, you were on a quest to a museum of the history of cheese that an old lady at a café had been raving to you about. It was another state over, but this sweet woman insisted it was worth it, and as you were the ones who asked her about a recommendation, you felt it only right to trust her word.
On the way there, you were stopping in a typical shittown, the kind where nothing really happens but somehow everyone knows everyone else’s business. Craving excitement after a long day in the car with your feet in Lee’s lap, you asked him to go looking through town for something to do. There was a bonfire party that night, something thrown together by a group of locals, and you figured that would do.
The fire crackled in the center of the gathering in the middle of the forest, the air heavy with smoke and alcohol. Lee’s arm was slung loosely around your shoulders as you walked through, scouting the place.
"You wanna stay long?" he asked, voice low in your ear.
You shook your head, leaning into him a little. "Nah. Let’s just see how it goes."
He nodded, but you could feel the tension in him, like he was always keeping one eye on the crowd. That protective streak ran deep in him, and you couldn’t help but wonder where it came from.
The two of you settled down on a log by the fire, chatting with some locals and getting your kick out of listening to them drawl away about town drama. A man had been circling where you were sat, both you and Lee noticed, but he never approached.
Needing to get some water from the truck, you squeezed Lee’s leg and told him you’d be right back.
He let his arm fall from around you to let you up, but looked at you with concern. “Don’t be long.” You just smiled. He watched you go, his eyes lingering on you longer than you realized.
You were walking back with water in hand, still on the outskirts of the bonfire and shielded from view when you saw the man coming up towards you. He looked the exact same as every man who had been a bother to you since you began life on your own and your stomach soured.
"Hey," the guy’s voice was a slurred mix of alcohol and bravado, his grin too wide, too familiar. "Why’d you leave your pretty boy toy behind? Done with him and ready for me?"
Your skin prickled with unease, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “I’m good. You should head back.”
He ignored you, stepping closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re vibing, right?"
He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm, and you jerked back instinctively. “Don’t touch me.”
The grin on his face faltered, replaced with something darker. “You’re just playing hard to get,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening now. "Girls like you always do."
“Back off!” you tried, but he took quick steps toward you.
Your heart raced, and before you could step away, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with bruising force. You twisted, trying to wrench yourself free, but he was stronger than he looked. His other hand moved to his pocket, and when he pulled out the glint of a blade, panic surged through you.
"Stop –"
"You’re not going anywhere –"
What happened next was a blur—a clash of instincts, fear driving your body into overdrive. He lifted the knife towards your throat, likely to threathen and not harm in the moment, but you could not wait to see how that would turn out. Your body moved before your mind could catch up, your hands lashed out, grabbing his wrist with one and prying the knife away with another. Suddenly the blade was in your hand, and when he threw himself on top of you, you shoved him off with one hand and used the knife with the other.
It found its home in his neck.
You scrambled away, not yet realising what had just happened. At your hands. You stared at him in shock where he laid in front of you, the sounds sickening, wet gurgle as his throat opened up. Blood poured out in a thick stream, hot and fast, soaking his shirt.
In shock and desperation, you grabbed at the wound as if to counteract what you had just done, but he took that opportunity to grab you by the hair and neck, attempting to choke you. Fear surged through you once more, but his once-hard grip was already weakening and you could wrestle free.
By the time you recovered and looked up, the life had drained from his eyes. All you could hear was your breathing and the pulse in your head.
You could smell the blood. On your hands, on his clothes, still oozing from his wound. It was dizzying, the world becoming distant as you were trapped inside this bubble that consisted of the two of you. You and the corpse.
You realised you had never seen a corpse before, not in person. Smelling fresh blood was different from smelling it once it had harkened on Lee’s skin. Not even the thought of Lee could drag you out of the state you were slowly being pulled into.
Without fully acknowledging your movements, you moved back towards the man, the one who had wished you dead and died by his own knife. Your eyes were fixated on his wound, something building inside of you at a rapid speed. A coil built in your stomach, one you had known was there for essentially forever, without the ability to give it a name.
It snapped. And as it did, you leaned down and sunk your teeth into his neck.
Everything felt right, not the kind of comfortable right you had developed with Lee, it felt like your body was finally getting air after a long period of suffocation, it felt like water after a long run. It felt like a meal after having been starving.
Your face was buried further and further in the flesh, your mind completely void of all thoughts. Just your fingers and teeth, blood and bone. Feral, instinctive, lost in the hunger that just kept building, like it was never enough.
"Shit."
A switch went off, and you were snapped back to reality. The smell of forest pine and moss, bonfire and smoke crept back in. As you slowly lifted your gaze, you saw him standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide, his face pale in the moonlight. His gaze was locked on you, and for the first time since you met him, you saw real shock on his face. Not fear exactly, but something close. Something you didn’t expect.
Horror.
“Lee…” Your voice broke, barely a whisper. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing into you like a wave. “Oh, God.”
Your eyes flashed back down and suddenly it was as if you realised you had a corpse at your feet. You scrambled backwards, breathing quickening, horrified and lost. You stared at your hands as tears were beginning to blur your vision, only worsened by how you couldn’t even see your skin’s colour through all the blood. Small curses kept spilling out past your lips as your eyes darted between the man, your hands and Lee.
“I– I didn’t mean to, I–” Your voice broke.
Lee took a step forward, his face still a mask of shock. For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the blood smeared across your skin. He’d always sensed something in you, always felt that you and him were the same in some way, but this… this was different. He hadn’t smelled it on you before. He had no idea.
“I didn’t– I don’t know what happened, I just–” You couldn’t make sense of it. Of anything. Your world was turned upside down.
“Hey.” Lee had made his way over to you, sitting on his knees in front of you. His voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, low and firm but not harsh. He closed the distance between you grabbing your arm, pulling you up from the ground. His grip was steady, but there was urgency in it now. “We gotta go.”
You blinked at him, still in shock, the reality of what you’d done slowly settling in. “But –”
“I know, I know, okay?” He pulled on a piece of hair plastered to your skin by blood, tucking it behind your hair. “I get it. But we gotta go. Now.” His voice cut through your haze of confusion and guilt. He didn’t wait for you to respond, didn’t give you the chance to argue. He grabbed you by the waist, practically lifting you off your feet as he dragged you away from the body and into the trees.
The world around you blurred as he pulled you through the forest, his grip firm, unyielding. The pounding in your head drowned out everything else– the sound of the party, the crackle of the bonfire, the smell of blood still clinging to you. All you could think about was what you had just done. What it meant. What you were.
By the time you reached the truck, you were shaking, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Lee shoved you into the passenger seat, his hand still gripping your arm like he was afraid you might bolt. He climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut, his face hard and unreadable as he started the engine.
For a while, there was nothing but the hum of the road, the world outside the truck a blur of dark trees and empty stretches of highway. Lee didn’t say anything, his eyes locked on the road ahead, his grip tight on the wheel. Mind racing almost as fast as the car, as he sped down the highway, determined to get as far away from the scene as possible. You sat beside him, leaning your head on the dashboard in front of you as you tried to gather yourself. Your hands still trembling, blood still drying on your skin.
You could barely breathe, the walls of the truck closing in around you. The reality of what you had done hit you again, harder this time. You had killed someone. Eaten someone.
You choked on a sob, tears already streaking the blood on your face. Your chest was tightening, your vision blurring. “Lee, I–”
There was no way for you to finish the sentence.
With your eyes clenched shut, hidden away, making yourself as small as possible in your seat, you couldn’t see the pained look he gave you. He needed to protect you by putting distance between you and the crime. But all he wanted was to pull you close.
“It’s okay. I will stop as soon as I can. It’s okay.”
Eventually he caught eye of a discreet sideroad and veered the truck down it as fast as possible. He slammed on the brakes, parking the car on a plot of grass by a river. The engine cut off, leaving the night in a sudden, heavy silence. In the blink of an eye, Lee was out of the truck, opening your door to pull you out as well. You were too out of it, not processing anything that was happening. He ended up scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style down to the riverside.
One bloody bride that is.
He sat you down by the water, his hands still firm on your arms, not giving you room to break down yet. "Sit here." His voice was softer now, but still edged with urgency. He knelt beside you, shrugging off his jacket and dipping it into the water. The cold night air hit your skin, but you barely felt it, still lost in the haze of panic.
You sat there, frozen, as he started to clean the blood off your hands, your arms, your face, as carefully as he could when hurrying. His touch was careful, deliberate, the way it had been when you first found him at the creek, battered and trying to clean himself up. But there was something different this time, something softer, more protective, like he wasn’t just cleaning the blood away, but trying to take some of the weight of it with him. Like he was saying, You don’t have to carry this alone. His jaw was clenched, eyes focused entirely on you, like he was trying to fix you, trying to put you back together piece by piece.
“Lee,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Am I–?” You couldn’t finish the sentence.
He paused, his hands stilling for just a second before he looked up at you. His expression softened, something breaking in his eyes. He reached up with a wet hand, brushing over your cheek and simultaneously cleaning some blood off. "You don’t have to be scared of it," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "Or of me."
You blinked, tears welling in your eyes. "I don’t understand."
“I’m here.” His fingers remained on your face, wiping away the tears before they could fall too far. “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me?”
You gave a faint nod.
For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you. He kept trying to get as much blood as possible off you, making you presentable again both in case someone saw you and to help you feel normal again. He didn’t try to explain it, didn’t try to rationalize it.
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He attacked me, I protected myself and then, then–”
“I know,” he said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know.”
Lee made sure your face and hands were free from blood, and then he helped you out of your stained sweater, leaving you in just your top underneath. He discarded it quick and turned back to you, grabbing your shaking hands.
“We need to move again, sweetheart” he said, voice low but certain. “We can’t stay too close.”
He stood up, reaching out to pull you up with him. His movements were quiet, purposeful. He didn’t rush you, but there was a tension in the air now, like he was calculating the next move. You could tell his mind was already working ahead, mapping out the quickest way to get you both far from the scene, far from the mess you left behind.
Your legs wobbled as you stood, your body still weak from the adrenaline crashing out of your system, but Lee’s grip on you was firm, guiding you back toward the truck. He opened the passenger door, helping you in before sliding into the driver’s seat. He tentatively took your hand with the one that wasn’t on the steering wheel, rubbing circles on it with his thumb as a silent comfort. The truck rumbled to life beneath you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of the engine, drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face.
"I didn’t know it would feel like this," you whispered once you were back on the road, your voice shaking. "I never… I didn’t think I’d ever be like this."
Lee was quiet for a moment, his eyes trained on the road, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, though there was something distant in it, like he was pulling from his own memories. "First time I fed… I couldn’t stop shaking afterward. Not ‘cause of the blood. It was the way it felt. Right and wrong all at once. Like it was something I was supposed to be ashamed of, but my body just didn’t care."
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you in a way that made your chest tighten. It was exactly how you felt – the rush of power, the satisfaction of feeding, mixed with the horror of what you had done. You had never wanted this, but it was like your body had decided for you.
"I didn’t want to stop," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t even think about it. I just… gave in."
Lee turned to you, his eyes soft but serious, and for a moment, you could see the weight of his own guilt mirrored in his expression. "That’s what it does. That’s what the hunger is." He paused, his jaw clenching briefly before he continued. "It takes over. And once it does… it’s like you don’t have a choice anymore. You just need."
You shivered, wrapping an arm around your stomach, trying to shake off the phantom feeling of the blood on your skin, the taste of it still faint on your lips. "I’m going to need it now,” you said, the realisation setting in. “How do I handle that?”
He exhaled slowly, and you saw the streetlights reflected in his eyes as they grew somewhat glossy. "You learn. Little by little. You get to know the hunger, learn how to control it instead of letting it control you. I will help you with it. You won’t do it alone.”
The tears you’d been holding back started to spill over, and you turned away, trying to hide your face. "I don’t really know what to do with myself now.”
He remained quiet, just held your hand tighter.
For a long while, you just sat there, letting the silence and the weight of his words wash over you. The night felt vast around you, you realised now that Lee had rolled down the windows for you. Likely to help you breathe better. You should have known Lee would understand, because of course he would. Yet, there had been fear that he would be angry, disgusted. He wasn’t, not even a little bit. If anything, he was calm. Steady. Like this wasn’t something that could break you.
He built a little bit of confidence you, even as you felt your insides caving in.
The road stretched out ahead of you in silence, the dark trees a blur outside the windows. Lee was counting the miles until it would be safe to stop for the night, just a little bit longer. The truck was filled by spiraling thoughts from you both.
Lee had to stop himself from going down a rabbithole of blaming himself. Thinking that he influenced you, that maybe, if you hadn’t met him you never would have discovered this part of you. He wanted to hate himself, he wanted to break down, but with every glance over at you he knew he couldn’t. Your feelings were what mattered tonight. He knew he needed to keep it together to guide you through it.
You had been crying on and off for the past hour, struggling with too many emotions at once. To process the assault and the intense fear you felt. Guilt consumed you, but not necessarily for killing the man, as you knew you had to, but then you felt guilty about your lack of guilt, and it was a never ending spiral. You felt horrible about feeding on him, about the discovery that you were an eater. When it was Lee it didn’t bother you, because, as you had come to realise, you just loved him. You know he is good. But you? That one was harder.
Then, your mind went to more practical matters. You had killed someone, feasted upon their body and then abandoned it. There were so many layers of illegal in those actions, and a new kind of fear and panic grabbed you.
Lee had seen these emotions develop in his peripheral, subconsciously speeding a bit faster, looking for somewhere safe to stop.
Your chest began to tighten, the panic from earlier threatening to bubble up. “Lee…” Your voice cracked, barely holding itself together. “What if someone finds out?”
He glanced at you briefly, his face unreadable. “They won’t.”
“But–”
“We’re not going back. Not to that town, not anywhere near it.” His voice was firm, cutting through your panic with the same intensity he had used earlier. “By the time they realize anything, we’ll be long gone. We’re already long gone.”
His words were meant to be comforting, but they didn’t settle the storm in your chest. You squeezed your hands together, spotting some leftover blood around your cuticle. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like the air in the truck was too thick, too stifling. The man’s corpse was laying on top of your lungs and you were suffocating.
“Lee… I…” You gasped, scratching at your skin, your vision starting to blur. You couldn’t catch your breath, couldn’t think past the overwhelming guilt, the horror of what you’d done.
He called your name, but you couldn’t register anything anymore.
The truck swerved again as Lee pulled off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled up to a small clearing, hidden behind a stretch of trees. An answered prayer.
He immediatley turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Hey. Hey, breathe. Sweetheart, I think you’re having a panic attack."
You tried to speak, but your words got caught and you were doubling over in the space that felt more and more confining.
In a swift motion, Lee had pulled you over the console and into his lap, opening the door beside him to let in as much air as possible. He held you securely, tight grip meant to ground you as he tried to talk you down.
With a hand on your cheek, he made you meet his eyes. "Look at me. You gotta breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on me."
You tried, but the panic had taken hold, your mind spiraling out of control. "I killed him. I killed him, and–"
"I know," Lee cut you off, his voice soft but firm. "You did. But it’s fine. It is fine, you are fine. I know. But you’re gonna be okay. You’re not in danger. Just breathe. Please breathe."
His words didn’t allow for you to argue, quelling your disagreements before you could make them. He cupped your face, stroking his thumb along your jaw, and exaggerated his breathing so you could follow it. In and out. He was so close, his eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, all you could focus on was him. He was pulling you back from the edge.
"Breathe," he repeated, his voice a low murmur. "That’s all you need to do right now."
You closed your eyes, following his lead, trying to pull air into your lungs the way he told you. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Slowly, painfully, the tightness in your heart began to ease, your breath coming in shaky but more controlled gasps.
When you opened your eyes again, Lee was still watching you, his hand still gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed falling. "There you go." His voice barely above a whisper. "Just like that."
You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, your body still trembling but no longer on the verge of breaking. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice fragile and raw.
Lee shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong."
You wanted to argue, to tell him that you had done something wrong, something unforgivable, but the way he was looking at you – like you weren’t broken, like you weren’t some monster, made the words die in your throat.
"I’ve got you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "I always got you. You’re good."
The weight of his words, the certainty in them, settled deep in your chest, pushing back the panic, the fear. You weren’t alone in this. You had Lee. You always had Lee.
You stayed like that for a while, just sitting in his lap in the truck, your breath finally steadying as the night stretched out around you. You didn’t notice how hard you were holding onto Lee, clutching his shirt and even some skin, but he didn’t say anything either. He just stayed beside you, his hands never leaving you, grounding you, pulling you back from the edge every time the panic threatened to take over again.
You breathed together. Through it all.
After what felt like hours, he finally spoke, his voice quiet but sure. "Let’s get settled down, okay?”
You nodded, too tired to argue, too drained to do anything but follow his lead. Lee helped you out of the seat, his arm steady around your waist as he guided you down. He went around the truck, gathering the blankets from the backseat, more than he would usually grab, and set up your usual makeshift bed in the trunk as quickly as possible.
Together, you climbed into the softness he had created just for you. It felt odd to do something so familiar when it felt like everything had changed. Lee had not, still watching you, as he leaned back against the cab of the truck. You pulled on one of his sweaters, settling in beside him. He tangled your feet together and grabbed your hand, but didn’t initiate more than that, expectantly waiting for you to process your thoughts out loud with him.
Your eyes were slightly glossy again when you whispered, "Thank you."
He shook his head, immediately softening. "You don’t have to thank me."
"I do," you whispered, your voice catching. "You didn’t have to do any of this. And you did."
Lee’s hand tightened slightly on your knee, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your pants. "Of course," he said, his voice low but firm. "You’re stuck with me, remember?"
A small, broken laugh escaped you, something warm flickering in your chest. You looked up at him, tears blurring your vision, but there was a kind of quiet relief there, too. Lee’s gaze was steady, unwavering, like no matter what had happened, no matter how far you had fallen, he was there to pull you back.
"Lee…" you started, but the words caught in your throat, too many emotions swirling inside you to put into words.
He seemed to understand anyway. Without saying anything, he angled himself more towards you, his forehead resting against yours. The closeness, the way his body pressed gently into yours everywhere, was enough to calm the last of your racing thoughts. You let out a shaky breath, your hands reaching up to gently hold his face, your fingers brushing through his hair.
For a moment, you just stayed like that, your breaths mingling, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.
"I’ve got you," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost to the night air. "You’re safe."
Something in his voice, the way he said it, made your heart clench. He had never said it out loud, but you knew. He tipped your chin up, meeting your lips with a searing kiss, one that felt like promise.
It felt like forever before he pulled away, far enough to be able to see your eyes, searching your face for more hurt to quench. You could see his bottom lip quivering slightly before he said it.
"I love you.”
Life stilled in the small clearing, and the weight of the past year came tumbling down on you. All you had done, all that had changed. How painful it had all been. How worth it it all was, to be sitting here in this boy’s arms now.
You took him in, your breath shaky. His words hung in the air between you, raw and real in a way that made your pulse race.
He smiled, understanding your reaction. His forehead went back to yours, his hands cradling your face gently, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin. There was nothing aloof about him now. He was all here, in this moment, focused on you like nothing else mattered. "I'm serious," he murmured, his voice soft, the vulnerability in it something you'd never heard before. "I love you."
Your throat tightened, grappling with the weight of it all. "Still?" you whispered, your voice trembling.
His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer, his breath warm against your lips. "You think this scares me? You think any of this changes how I feel about you?" His gaze was intense, a burning passion that steadied you, even as your heart threatened to tear itself apart. "You’re still you. This doesn’t make you someone else. So, yeah. Still. Always."
Your heart soared, a flood of emotions you hadn’t expected surging to the surface. You kissed him again, slowly, just lips pressed against lips as you tried to calm yourself. "I don’t know what life looks like for us now.”
"Then we’ll figure it out," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like there had never been another option. “Part of the fun, right?”
He pulled away just to kiss your forehead and temples, lingering there for almost a beat too long before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You're not alone in this. I’m not letting you go through it alone. Got it?"
You blinked back the hot, stinging tears that threatened to spill over. The calm in his voice, the unwavering certainty in his eyes grounded you like no else. It felt impossible, but here he was, telling you that you weren’t lost, that he wasn’t leaving, no matter what happened.
"I need you, you know," he whispered against your cheek, kissing it once more. "I don’t think you get that."
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. You clung to him. "I do," you said, your voice soft but firm. "I need you, Lee. Desperately."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then don’t overthink it."
And before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, kissing you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. There was a quiet desperation in the way he kissed you, like every ounce of the feelings he couldn’t quite say were being poured into that moment. His hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as though he was trying to erase the space between you.
You kissed him back with the same intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body pressing into his, craving the closeness, the connection. Everything else faded into the background, drowned out by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his hands on your skin.
His lips left yours for just a moment, brushing against your jaw, then trailing down your neck, each kiss soft but deliberate, making your breath hitch. "I’m not going anywhere," he murmured again, the words muffled against your skin. "You’ve got me. No matter what."
You couldn’t find the words, so you kissed him again, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight against him as though he was afraid to let go, as though you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
For a long moment, the world was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. It was just you and him, and the quiet understanding that you were in this together.
When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead pressed to his, you let out a laugh, more from the relief of having him here than anything else. It made him give you a curios smile, just happy to see you regain some of your usual behavior.
"So," you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, "are you gonna say it again, or what?"
He let out a low chuckle, his arms still wrapped around you, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "I love you," he said, his voice warm, no hesitation this time. "I love you. I’m not scared to say it, even if you make me say it a thousand more times."
"Good," you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again, softer this time, but no less meaningful. "Because I love you too. And I’m not letting you go."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he kissed you back, slow and lingering, like he wanted to memorize the feel of you against him. When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours.
"We’ll figure this out," he promised softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm. "Whatever happens, we will be fine. Together."
You nodded, your heart finally settling, a sense of calm washing over you. "Yeah. We will."
And with that, the two of you sank down into the blankets, the night quiet at last. Lee’s arm stayed wrapped around you, his lips pressing soft kisses to whatever exposed skin he could find, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that this moment was real.
As you lay there, tangled together, the world felt a little less terrifying. You had each other, and somehow, that was enough.
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