#god it feels so strange to do this after so long

[yandereunsolved]

Yandere Daryl Dixon w/ immune reader— 'we're all infected, why does it matter if you're the cure?'

Yandere Daryl saw your scraggly ass aimlessly wandering through the abandoned pharmacy he needed to raid. Walkers, five of em', and you fought them off bare fisted. Pretty badass, and fucking stupid, if Daryl has anything to say about it. You're bleeding from your neck more than any living person should.

A bite. You're bit.

No wonder you could care less if one of the rotting corpses bites on ya.

He wants to put you down like he should. He lines up his crossbow with your head, and like a deer caught in headlights, you flee.

Goddammit all.

Shouldn't matter anyway. You'll become another walker. At the most you got some gauze.

It had to be months again before he saw you on another run. There you are—banged up and just a lil more than skin n' bones, but there you are alive none the less.

Yandere Daryl admits to himself that it's the first time he's been intrigued by someone in a long while. Maybe that's why he's insisted on going on runs by himself these past few months. Maybe just maybe deep down he wanted to see you again.

It isn't hard to simply surprise you from behind and disarm you. He knocks you out and lowers you to the sidewalk. He doesn't see any walkers near, so he can check your wound out easy.

You still have gauze over it, but it has long since needed a change. It's drenched in fresh blood and covered in old. He unwraps it to see the damn bite. He can't tell if it looks better or worse now.

"Poor sap, what am I gonna do with you? Whats good a cure if there's no docs, only greedy men in this world." He tsks.

Yandere Daryl picks you up and carries you back to the group. He wraps a slightly torn shawl around your neck. It's one he found near the store you collapsed at. There's a reason you have been out here all these months.

You could'a just given up and died.

You could'a found a group.

Instead you found him again.

"Must've been fate, huh?" He chuckles humorlessly.

The way you looked at him. You're runnin' from somethin'. He just has to figure out what.

Yandere Daryl decides you're his to take care of. When he carries you into Alexandria, he doesn't let anyone else get their hands on you. He doesn't answer anyone's questions while he walks in and towards his house. He locks himself in and tells anyone that comes by to piss off.

Screw the rules and whatever the fuck.

You're a mystery that he has to solve.

So he grabs a change of clothes and some food for you. He plops them down on the table and sits in the opposite chair.

He doesn't mind waitin' for a while. It gives him plenty o' time to think. Somethin' in him is just stirrin'. He just can't decide what.

Yandere Daryl calms you down after you wake up. You can barely form words on those pretty lips and tongue of yours. Naturally, you question him and his motives. You're defensive and don't elaborate at first.

It takes just a handful of threats about exposing you and spreading around the fact there is an immune person to unravel your need for secrecy.

Somewhat.

You only tell him that you're being hunted by a group you were once with.

"Mind elaborating, hun?" Daryl draws out while looking over your figure for what feels like the thousandth time.

"I'll tell you—but I swear to God if you use this against me I'll stab you through the head a dozen times over."

"Fair nuff."

"They would—If you get bit and are injected with... well, enough of my blood then it acts as a cure..."

They fuckin' what?

Yandere Daryl vouches for you, and you end up in Alexandria. You get no ifs, ands, or buts about it. They assign you to his house. Daryl definitely convinced Rick that since you're a newcomer and you trust him more, he could keep a watchful eye on you. It totally isn't because there's this strange all possessing feeling that keeps latching onto his heart when you're around.

He keeps your secret safe n' sound. He manages to steal enough makeup from rundown stores to keep your healing bite covered up. He makes sure you are eating and getting healthier. He checks up on you before and after he gets done with a run. Hell, he reminds you of shit he forgets about all the time.

This does extend to him killing people to keep you safe. They looked at you wrong. Maybe one of the residents feels suspicious about you. They may even have confronted Daryl and questioned him. Oh, well. Just another one pushed to the biters.

Daryl has never had a strict moral compass. So he doesn't feel bad about murdering people who he is supposed to consider his neighbors.

Of course, those who came with him to Alexandria get the privilege of questionin' you just a bit. He's quick to shut that shit down, though.

Carol is the only one who is close enough to knowing that you are immune. She knows that Daryl has something more than platonic towards you. She also knows that you were injured with something that looked suspiciously like a walker bite mark when Daryl first lugged you in. (She snuck in and looked through your scarf while Daryl wasn't aware.)

She just isn't looking for trouble. She doesn't want to believe it, as it doesn't seem plausible. There have been too many false hopes from the CDC to Eugene.

So she let's Daryl foster his feelings towards you while watching out for you both. If Daryl ever oversteps a boundary with you, Carol will be there to knock him up side the head, call him a stupid redneck, and threaten him in the most motherly way possible. 

Yandere Daryl never saw you have so much terror in the eyes as the day he mentioned The Saviors. It clicked in his mind immediately. He has only felt that rage one other time in his life: when he learned Meryl had been handcuffed to the roof and left for dead.

He didn't think, but he acted. He held you and refused to let go. It's just so fuckin' unfair. He loses everyone that has a semblance of importance to him. Not you. Not this time.

His only thought was that he was going to burn every one of those fuckers to the ground—innocent or not.

[lady-of-endless]

"Always Been You"

Summary: The Marine vice admiral misses his enemy.

Tags: fem reader; whipped Smoker; enemies to lovers; you fell first, he fell harder;

Author's Note: I have had some One Piece feels lately and wanted to write my favorite dynamic with Smoker, our beloved. Let me know if you'd be interested in a second part.

..........................................................................................

Smoker could never tell when you were close but you always knew when he was.

You walked through his heavy smoke many times, feeling it cling to your clothes and hair and seeing it float around you when he was after you as an obvious and thrilling warning.

Now, smoke only floated towards the ceiling of his bedroom, from his cigar while his eyes were fixed on the empty spot of his bed.

Smoker lit up the second cigar and narrowed his eyes, remembering how you would always steal one of the two cigars he always had between his teeth, just to tease him.

You.

Where the hell were you?

The secret rendez-vous have come to an end for a few days, abruptly. You were not showing your face anymore around town, staying hidden God knows where and why, and the Marine couldn't decide if he only missed the touch of your warm breath on his skin and the pleasurable tension or everything that made you the pirate he fell for against his will.

He took another long drag, getting up from his bed and walking to the opened window of his bedroom. He looked at the Loguetown night sky. Even if you worked from the smallest and hidden corners of the town, he would still somehow stumble across you. It was like you wanted to be found by him on purpose, but not anymore lately.

Smoker took a deep breath, taking in both the taste of his cigars and the crispness of the cool night air, feeling his thoughts slowly drift off again. He tried to concentrate only on his work and his duties as a Vice Admiral, but his focus kept wavering as he felt himself being pulled back to the thought of you.

So much time passed since your last encounter that Smoker felt he could remember your face only from the wanted poster and not the flashbacks that get him distracted more frequently lately. He didn't want to think about how long you've been missing, how long he couldn't try to capture and arrest you or wrap his arms around you.

Smoker groaned, disgusted by his vulnerability. To be in such a high position and to have such a weakness for the enemy's affection was something that had to be kept secret.

He hated having to hide those affairs from the Marines. He despised lies but he had to be a liar to them for you. He had to lie about why he arrived later than usual in the morning, about why he looked disheveled before meetings, about the lipstick stains from his uniform jacket.

But you made it all so damn worth it and thrilling. Now, Smoker didn't know what to look forward to besides the moment when he'll chase you again. If you'll ever get back. Pirates are always unpredictable, after all, and he should have been grateful for your absence, not feel bitter about it.

"Damn it..." He muttered to himself, annoyed at his weakness. It was strange and revolting to long for the enemy's affection and not for arresting you once and for all.

As a vice admiral and commander of the Marines, he had a duty to uphold and a reputation to maintain. What would his peers think if they knew he was connected to a woman who actively defied and undermined the World Government as a pirate? His only safe space was his mind, where he could think about you without restrictions even when he tried so hard not to, stopping himself so many times.

He wished he could do his job without interfering feelings. He tried so hard to respond to your teasing by telling you he despises your kind without pulling you against him, in his arms.

His transponder snail rang suddenly, at that late night hour.

Smoker didn't flinch and reached for the transporder without even looking at who it was, almost like a reflex.

"Yeah?" He answered, his voice rough. It was Tashigi, of course. "Tashigi speak, what is it?" He asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed, frowning. He was immediately alert, not liking her concerned tone and the time of the call.

"It's her again. She has been seen in town." His subordinate reported sighing at the issue.

Smoker's cigars fell from his lips onto the floor.

"Captain?" Tashigi asked at the lack of response.

"I will inform the rest of the team to go out and search for her right now. I'll even track her down myself alone if I have to." Smoker responded, sounding more than just authoritative and furious, ending the call but knowing too well that he won't follow the plan and will go after you alone without the others. He groaned at the thought that he lied to his subordinates once again, just for your sake.

If there was one thing he didn't need to hide in this complicated affair was that he couldn't deny the thrill of being able to hunt you once again. He was the White Hunter, after all.

The thought of seeing you again filled him with an intoxicating rush of excitement and tension. In his troublesome imagination, Smoker could already see himself standing in front of you, looking down into your eyes, your lips a few inches away from his as you teased and riled each other until he kissed you roughly enough so that his stubble left your soft skin rosy and sensitive.

He got up from his bed and began to get dressed, his movements fueled by anticipation.

Smoker put on his boots and scoffed as he remembered each of your successful getaways and your incredible ability to get out of the Marine's grasp every time. It was annoying and also fascinating to watch you play nice, charming, and fool every Marine that tried to capture you. Yet, he couldn't help but wonder if he was just another victim of your act too, a plaything. It was time to get you and the answer to this.

[demodraws0606]

My thoughts on the latest episode (aka HU IS THE CULPRIT I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL)

Warning : My sassy attitude is not directed towards anyone else, I'm simply amusing myself and also I've only gotten barely 5 hours of sleep god save me.

This is gonna be very long and messy so strap in folks

It's so obviously not Eden or Ace it's painful (idc 'i'll die for my hubris). Not even just because Eden lying and being the culprit after all of that would be both underwelming and just...miserable. But also because of how the way we're getting the reveal in advance that it could only be Ace and Eden. The fact the cast was already on Eden's throat as well just makes this point even more clear to me.

This isn't like fucking Korekiyo in chapter 3 of DRV3, this isn't how a culprit reveal happens. Especially not when there's so much we don't know yet.

So who is the culprit ?

...

It's Hu, it's literally Hu.... and like 1 pourcent chance it's Nico but I think both of them are accomplices here.

The thing is, I don't buy any of the shit Nico is saying, their admission of guilt is strangely quick and detached. They also seem to go along with anything people say about them (like them framing Hu) which makes it even more suspicious, they could've just said they used Hu's weapon out of conveniance ? The only thing this episode has proved me is that Nico is an Active accomplice rather than a Passive one like I thought. For what reason ? I honestly don't know fully yet but again we don't know a lot about Nico anyways.

Hu's behavior really makes me think she did it and is acting out, mostly out of guilt. She seems really stressed this trial which while makes sense for character reasons, it also makes sense if she's the culprit and feeling guilty. It would explain her defending Eden and Nico mainly I think despite her probably being the culprit she doesn't want the perception that Eden/Nico has to be broken (especially not bc of her). I've already explained how Hu being the culprit makes sense from a character perspective so I'm not gonna get more into it.

By the way any arguments in this post being like "it would be out of character for Nico or Hu to do that" should honestly review their own hypocrisy if they think Eden did it, or even Ace for that matter.

Another thing that makes me even more convinced that it can't be Ace or Eden is that...you can't fucking prove any of them did it with 100 pourcent certainty. David fucking threw the BDA rule out of the window, so we can't be sure Eden didn't do it but like what decisive evidence would make it clear between the two of them.

The only pieces of evidence we have left is :

-The sticky ball of clothes (most likely turpentine because the soil of the relexation room would cause the ball to have stains on it)

-The alibi for the relaxation room water

-The missing glove (which I think i've changed my opinion on what it could mean here)

Eden did know about the ball of clothes (but that piece of fucking evidence has strings attached so we'll get to that) and Ace doesn't have an alibi against taking the water like Eden does.

The missing glove is the only evidence left untouched here and honestly I actually don't think it had anything to do with the glove having someone's hair or anything, mainly because first of all the culprit could've technically just removed any hair on the glove even if it was sticky.

And also there's something else that makes more sense.

I think they probably had to use the glove to avoid rope burn while trying to set up the mechanism to kill Arei. Especially with how high the playground's ceilling is, it wouldn't be child's play. I'm not really good at deciphering what could've possibly happenened directly in the murder but I'd argue it's just more likely that the culprit would be put in a situation were rope burn could happen. This murder set up would require a lot of physical effort, and if the culprit even slipped for a second their hands would end up being damaged from rope burn making them obviously look guilty (also ouchie), which I think is what happened.

It would also explain the scuffs on the floor, maybe the culprit was struggling to hold onto the rope leading to them causing marks with their feet while trying to pull on the rope.

The reason why I think the glove is missing is probably because it's damaged and the culprit wanted to avoid the cast knowing they used Arei's glove during the murder. In fact it's the only piece of evidence that is completely missing

But why ?

Has anyone realised something about, I argue, the three other main suspects here ?

Nico, Eden, Ace ?

They all have gloves.

"But a huge portion of the cast has gloves this doesn't mean anything, it's just a stylistic choice !!" Yeah, the majority of the cast has gloves.

I think now you can understand why the culprit wouldn't want the cast to know that the glove was used. Because if the cast did see the glove that was probably damaged, they would assume the culprit wore it and it would narrow down the suspect list to an extremely narrow pool. This forces them to basically take the glove and hope to fucking god the cast doesn't catch on which they clearly haven't yet.

You know who doesn't fucking wear gloves.

HU JING

My girl got no gloves on !!!!

So yeah, with the glove being untouched evidence yet I think it will be the main decisive thing to point out who the culprit truly is, and I just don't think it's just gonna be like "oh let's just search everyone to see which one has the glove !". For all we know the culprit could've fucking eaten the glove, I don't think we're getting another Min in trying to search shit on people's person.

Anyways I'm gonna transition to other stuff to explain how the Nico and Hu theory makes sense from a logical standpoint here.

Let's get on to the sticky ball of clothes.

First I want to get it out there that I do not think the ball being sticky is due to the soil of the relaxation room. Mono-TV's talk about the "special formula" was mostly to foreshadow the floor of the playground's properties, also the fucking ball would have stains on it.

For me this means the ball of clothes has to have been covered in turpentine especially now that we have confirmation from Ace directly.

This is extremely huge and I'm flabbergasted has no one has mentioned this. Pray tell where the fuck did that piece of cloth go, did it get isekai'd into another world ?

This question actually has multiple meaning here because that fucking ball of clothing actually has massive implications. It confirms a lot of things and also puts a lot of doubt in things that seemed to be confirmed.

Before that I also want to say that Arei 100 pourcent got knocked out with turpentine. I don't want to argue over and over again that it was used because I've done this before but I have to since there are multiple reasons why she had to have been knocked out.

The floor is extremely prone to scuffs, if Arei was struggling then we definitely would've seen more than just a few marks in one area.

The method of murder would have been extremely difficult if she was struggling, like to a ridiculous point. Especially with someone like Arei who has been shown to have been sneaky and very prone to attacking people in their weak spots.

The tape binding Arei's hand in hindsight actually probably wasn't to avoid her struggling, it was most likely due to how the mechanism of the murder work. Keep in mind how the murder had to have worked and imagine if Arei's hands were just loose and flopping around. There could have been possible injuries with her arms that would ruin the culprit's obvious plan to make it look like a suicide. It also just makes sense for weight reasons, again Arei having her arms flopping around would make moving her body even more difficult.

And even if you want disagree with all of that, the culprit could've just binded her tape to avoid the same mistake that happened with Ace with him waking up from the turpentine.

Now that I've made my case about Arei being knocked out, let's get on the actual new arguments I want to make.

First, we know for a fact that a piece of cloth was used to knock out Ace meaning it has to have gone somewhere, if you say "well they could've just thrown it away" I will personally come into your home and shit in your shoes. And you're also wrong because I've already proven that Arei had to have been knocked out.

This means the only piece of cloth available to us would be the sticky ball of clothes.

But...like let me just explain everything that's mind boggling about all of this.

-This ball of clothes had to have been made for Ace's murder to knock him out

-The only people who knew about the old clothes were Hu, Teruko and Whit. Eden only knowing later on, way after Ace's murder was planned probably, because Hu told her about it.

-The culprit used this ball of clothing against both Arei and Ace

-The cloth is suspiciously absent from the murder scene, which makes no sense considering Nico's account rely on them not having left the gym while trying to murder Ace. Them leaving to chuck the cloth aside only to come back to the gym doesn't make sense with the timeline in how we discover things.

Yep, I'm making the claim that Nico didn't actually kill Ace here, I still think it's Hu. Again you can try and complain all you want about how it's out of character for Nico but the reality is...shit is not adding up.

It's really suspicious how silent Hu becomes when her weapon is brought up, immediatly clamming up and not defending Nico anymore. When Teruko makes assumption that Nico lied to Hu to get her weapon, she doesn't reply with a betrayed "Nico is that true ?" or even a sentence she responds with "That's...". The amout of ellpises both Nico and Hu give are extremely suspicious and just make me side eye both of them extremely hard.

I'm gonna go on another tangent here, on the subject of Hu being suspicious. Mainly because I do wanna point out a moment that both makes Eden seem a lot more innocent and makes Hu a lot more guilty.

The subject of Arei potentially committing suicide.

Now, it's very clear that the way Arei was hung was meant to make it look like Arei killed herself, this was very much meant to be the culprit's intention. Both to hide the true murder mechanism and probably to mislead the cast. The fact that it's only an incidental red mark of Arei's wrist that proves she didn't kill herself, proves that the culprit intended for it to look like a suicide.

However guess who argues against this...Eden, which, if she is the culprit I don't see why she would do something like that (and if you say "well why is Hu defending Nico and Eden" I already explained it). Clearly the Eden!Culprit theory relies on her being capable of manipulation so there's no reason why she would be so caught up in her own feelings to just ruin her own plan like that.

You know who seems to really be into the idea of Arei killing herself though, Hu.

That's all I have to say on that, now let's get onto how I think Nico actually helped Hu.

I do think there's still a 50/50 on them working directly together or just Nico catching onto Hu's plans and deciding on their own to help her.

I do think Nico directly helped her though in two major ways

First, the water, it's the obvious one. Nico probably ended up giving the water the Hu here weither they did so with/without knowing Hu's intention doesn't really matter since they're deciding to keep quiet about it now.

I also want to quickly mention how Hu getting water from the relaxation room makes a lot of sense. Hu was busy with Eden in the kitchen and Teruko had taken all the drinks from the gym, so it's likely Hu was forced to take the water from the relaxation room.

Second, the note

Oooo baby let's get into my favorite realisation in watching this episode.

One piece of dialogue has made me realize something

This made me puzzled too, because yeah, who would be listening in and how did Arei not notice when she went into the room ?

Let me take you all back to Chapter 2 Episode 5

Rose and Teruko have a conversation about Rose's secret and that conversation lasts a good while, until...

Nico was actually shown to have been there the entire time, Teruko and Rose were talking without noticing they were there.

Nico then explains themselves like this, pretty much proving this is something they just like doing casually sometimes.

This actually would explain everything on how the eavesdropping happened, Nico was on the literal fucking floor of the infirmary leading to them listening to everyone's conversation. Which tmeans they could have had the information to write the note.

This would explain the inconcistencies as to why would the culprit know to eavesdrop and how they didn't get caught by Arei when she was barging into the room (if they were outside by the door).

Now this leads to two possibilities with Nico and their relation to Hu.

Either they worked together with Hu and they both came up with the murder together. Which means either of them could've written the note.

Or Nico helped Hu without her knowledge, making the note to help her (edit : just realised this doesn't make a lot of sense ignore this).

I believe this is all I have so far and I'm very tired so you won't get a conclusion

Oh wait I hear something in the background...

"WHAT ABOUT THE TAAAAAAAAPE"

First of all, y'all gaslit me into thinking Ace couldn't have taken the tape so I'm already sick of this tape bullshit being used as decisive unshakeable evidence.

You know what I think probably happened ? Ace took the tape, after all it disappeared when he woke up and it's possible that he just then threw it away in the trash.

I mean Ace did say he was gonna "commit a murder of his own", it would be in line with him taking the tape.

Why isn't he talking about it then ? Because he'd be seen as the fucking culprit and also Ace is not really the most honest bitch out need i mention Ace witholding info about David and Arei's conversation.

[dancinglikebutterflywings]

Not Dead Yet | Part 01

-> Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x Medium-Fem!Reader

-> Sypnosis: After a strange encounter, Jeonghan wakes up outside of his body. The only person who can see him is Y/N, a woman with a gift (or curse as she would call it) who is able to see and communicate with the deceased. But Jeonghan isn't dead... not yet anyway.

-> Warnings: Supernatural au. There is a mention of God's and collapsing. Jeonghan is a bit of a heart breaker/player. Only mentioned once that reader has dark hair. This was going to be just a prologue but it ended up a chapter.

-> Word Count: 1,605

-> Taglist: open. Leave a comment on the masterlist post, send an ask or fill out the Tag List Form.

Not Dead Yet Masterlist | SEVENTEEN M.List

As Jeonghan walks with Ji-Ah, the woman he’s been seeing for the last three weeks, alongside the Han River, he takes this moment to do what he’s been trying to do all night. He drops her hand as he stops walking and turns to face the river, his arms resting on the railing. Ji-Ah notices the shift in the atmosphere as soon as Jeonghan lets go of her hand. The warmth of his touch is replaced by a sudden chill in the air. With concern, she turns to face him but before she could say anything, he starts to speak.  

“Ji-Ah,” he begins, his voice feigning regret. “I’m sorry, this just isn't working for me.”   

“What do you mean?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve only just started getting to know each other.”  

He can hear the hurt in her voice but he feels no sympathy. “Listen, Ji-Ah,” he continues, starting his well-rehearsed go-to break up speech, “You’re an incredible woman. It’s just that I don’t think we’re a good match. I’m sure there’s someone wonderful out there for you. I just don’t think I’m that person.” 

“But it’s my birthday,” she whispers, her voice trembling as she fights back tears. 

"Aish," he mutters under his breath, recalling the reason they had gone out for dinner in the first place. For a fleeting moment, he feels a pang of guilt but quickly suppresses it. 

“I thought we had something special,” she sobs, unable to contain her tears any longer.  

"It's only been three weeks," he blurts out, not realizing the words had escaped him until he sees her expression, a mix of hurt and disbelief with tears streaming down her cheeks. 

“Do you even care?” Ji-Ah’s voice is barely above a whisper as it cuts through her cries.  

“Of course I care,” he says looking at her with faux sympathy and feeling slightly awkward that this wasn’t ending as quickly as he hoped. After all, they’d only been on four dates in the span of three weeks. According to him, that wasn’t a long enough time to get attached to someone. “I’m doing this because I care about you. I don’t want to waste your time on something that’s never going to work out. This way, you can find someone who truly deserves you and is worth your time.” 

“So, this is it?” she asks wiping her tears away. 

“I’m afraid so,” he nods.  

“Okay,” she says trying to put on a brave face and forget the embarrassment and hurt that’s coursing through her. “Thank you for making my birthday awful. I hope I never see you again.” 

“I hope so too,” he says, his words once again slipping out before he could stop them.  

“Maybe you’re right,” she concedes, her expression taking on one of offence. “This wouldn’t have worked out because you’re an asshole. I feel sorry for your next girlfriend.” With that she walks away deliberately bumping her shoulder against him as she passes. 

He grumbles to himself about how that could have gone a lot quicker and pulls out his phone, finding the number of the woman he met the day before and quickly sends her a text 'plans fell through. Do you want to meet up in 30 minutes?'.  

With a smile on his face, he makes his way back towards where his car is parked occasionally checking his phone for a reply. As he reaches his car, he finds a strange man wearing a black top hat, a bright orange suede jacket and horrendous green pants leaning against the tailgate. His expression is blank, not giving Jeonghan any indication of what his motives could be, but his deep brown eyes are fixed intently on him making Jeonghan feel like he was looking right into his soul. 

"Can I help you?" he asks the man with a hint of annoyance.  

"When are you going to stop breaking these lovely ladies' hearts?" the man replies, his voice calm and steady. "Yoon Jeonghan.” 

"Do I know you?" He asks, his eyes widening slightly. He’s 99% sure he’s never seen this man before this moment. 

“You don’t, but I’ve been watching you,” he replies, moving away from the car and steps closer to him. The man’s gaze remains steady, and Jeonghan feels a shiver run down his spine. There’s something unsettling about the way this stranger seems to know him. It’s as if he’s been examined under a microscope.  

Jeonghan shifts his weight, attempting to shake off the sudden wave of vulnerability that washes over him. "Look, I don’t know who you are or how you think you know me, but I’m not interested in whatever you have to say." 

The stranger chuckles softly, a sound that feels oddly out of place given the tension in the air. "Oh, but you should be, Yoon Jeonghan. I’m not here to lecture you on your romantic escapades. In fact, I’m here to give you a warning." 

“A warning?” Jeonghan furrows his brow, trying to make sense of the cryptic words. The man’s presence is unsettling, and the way he speaks feels almost as if he’s reciting lines from a play or a movie. “What warning? And how can I trust you? I don’t even know your name.”  

“You don’t need to know my name right now,” the man tells him. “The only person who will be able to see you will know my name and that’s when you’ll learn it.” 

"I really don’t have time for this," Jeonghan sighs, shaking his head as he goes to take a step past him to get into his car. "I have plans that I need to get to.” 

"Plans, you say?” The man says, tilting his head slightly, as if considering Jeonghan’s words. “I’m afraid the only plans you have are with the Gods.” 

Caught by surprise, Jeonghan turns back to the man, confusion written on his face. “The Gods? I don-” 

“Oops,” the man winces as he clicks his fingers and Jeonghan collapses to the ground unconscious. “Probably should have given him a heads-up first,” he says and then shrugs before walking away. “I did try to warn him.” 

When jeonghan finally regains awareness, he sits up and finds himself in a hospital room. The faint beeping of machines that monitor his vitals, rings loudly in his ears, the smell of antiseptic fills his nostrils and the fluorescent lights are harsh against his eyes. Before he could panic about how he ended up in hospital, the man from earlier enters his mind. The stranger’s words echo inside his head, a haunting reminder of the bizarre encounter they had and the warning he tried to give him. 

Wanting to find a nurse or doctor so he could get discharged knowing there can't be anything wrong with him, he gets out of bed and makes his way to the door.  

As he exits the room, a nurse walks by. He tries to get her attention by calling to her but she continues as if she doesn't hear him. Thinking she was being rude. He tries again as another nurse walks past him but she too ignores him. 

"Excuse me!" Jeonghan raises his voice, desperation slowly sinking into his tone. "Can someone please help me? I want to go home."  

But the nurses and other hospital staff continue past him, their expressions blank. It's as if he’s nothing more than a ghost haunting the halls of the hospital.  

Frustration bubbles within him, and he takes a step forward, determined to find someone who will acknowledge his presence. The fluorescent lights hum overhead and his heart races as he wanders down the corridor. He glances into the rooms he passes, catching glimpses of patients lying in beds, some asleep, some having visits with family members and others staring blankly at the ceiling with nothing else to do. 

Finally, he spots a doctor in a white coat, clipboard in hand, walking briskly toward him. Jeonghan rushes to intercept him. "Excuse me! Can you help me? I need to know what happened to me," he pleads, his voice tinged with urgency. But just like the nurses, the doctor brushes past him as if he were invisible.  

Feeling confused and overwhelmed, Jeonghan sinks into a chair meant for waiting families. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his head in his hands, mumbling to himself.  

Eventually he lifts his head, glancing around the waiting area. The chairs are filled with families, most of their faces etched with worry or relief, some with boredom, but none of them seem to notice him. The weight of everything that’s happening starts to get to him, and he fights back the urge to scream and demand for someone to see him. 

Taking a deep breath, he stands up, a spark of determination igniting within him. Just as he prepares to approach the doctor at the nurse's station, the elevator doors across from him slide open. His heart races as he sees a figure step out, exuding a warmth and confidence that draws him in. Her dark hair is slightly tousled, as if she just rolled out of bed, and her outfit—a black faux leather jacket, a white shirt, ripped jeans, and white sneakers—makes him think she’s not part of the hospital staff. 

Before he can make another move, she looks up, their eyes connecting, and for the first time since waking up, he feels truly seen and is reminded of what the odd man from earlier said. 

“The only person who will be able to see you will know my name.” 

©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy/modify/repost anywhere. reblog instead

@staytiny2000 - @rainydayteacups - @hipsdofangirl - @do-you-remember-summer-127 - @cookiearmy

@catzachvsvt

Tag List Form.

[loveemagicpeace]

Neptune & illusion

Here I am describing the things that are confusing and illusory that Neptune can bring. Neptune, the planet of dreams, illusions, spirituality, and the unseen, governs the realms of imagination, intuition, and the subconscious. Named after the Roman god of the sea, Neptune’s energy is fluid, mystical, and elusive, often associated with the dissolution of boundaries and the desire to merge with the divine or the infinite. In astrology, Neptune is linked to creativity, compassion, idealism, and escapism, but also to confusion, deception, and disillusionment. Neptune rules over the realms of fantasy, creativity, and artistic expression. It inspires visions of what could be, often fueling dreams, art, and music.

One of Neptune’s challenging qualities is its association with illusion, confusion, and deception. Neptune can create a fog that obscures reality, leading to misunderstandings or fantasies that do not align with the truth. It rules over situations where things are not as they seem, and can bring about disillusionment when the idealized version of reality falls apart. This planet can also represent escapism, whether through daydreaming, addiction, or avoiding life’s harsher realities.

This planet is associated with addiction, whether to substances, fantasies, or behaviors that allow people to avoid dealing with reality. Neptune’s influence can create a longing to escape the harshness of life, making it easy to fall into patterns of avoidance or self-destructive habits.

Neptune in 1st house- The first house represents your personality, appearance and energy. Therefore, Neptune in the first house will literally be a part of you. Your personality will be dreamy and you may spend a lot of time in your head or in your world. You like to live somewhere else because it helps you not to face reality so much. For example: you are having coffee with a group of people and everyone is talking about a topic, but you are just sitting drinking coffee and daydreaming and you are in your own world. With Neptune here, you turn off the entire reality and the world around you. People find you special, mysterious, dreamy and can often idealize your personality and you. Many people find you as someone who is like from a cartoon, infinite, special. With this placement, you can also manifest a lot because you give an illusion about yourself and your life to others that may not exist, but others believe it. You can become too idealistic about yourself and your appearance. You can fall into too much illusion about yourself. This "Neptunian" persona can be a double-edged sword—while it can make them seem alluring, it can also cause confusion or misunderstanding in relationships, as others might see them as something they are not.

Neptune in 2nd house- you can dream a lot about money, wealth and material things. Here you can be careful who you lend money to or tell them about, because you can run into people who rob you. your inner feelings can sometimes be very strange and illusory, maybe you think you feel a certain way but you really don't. Neptune can create illusions or confusion around money, self-worth, and material possessions. The illusion lies in valuing things that may seem important in the moment but are unstable or unrealistic long-term, leading to potential financial instability or confusion about true self-worth.

Neptune in 3rd house- your thoughts can be dreamy many times. You often feel unaccepted by your relatives and you may also have an incomprehensible relationship with your siblings. Many times very strange things can happen to you when it comes to relatives or siblings. One of them could be weird or have a mental illness or the things you learn about them are very shocking. It can happen to you that sometimes you think that some things are completely different than you thought they were. You can be firmly convinced of something and then find out that it was never true.

Neptune in 4th house-a lot of strange things can happen here at home. A home can be full of mystery and confusion. Maybe when you grow up you can find out things about your mother that you didn't expect. Your mother can be a mystical, mysterious woman, maybe her personality can be covered. You can live in a house where strange things happen and are somehow inexplicable. There’s often a deep longing for an ideal home life that feels peaceful and spiritually fulfilling. The illusion lies in the tendency to escape into fantasies about family or emotional safety, sometimes avoiding confronting difficult truths about their home environment or past.

Neptune in 5th house- your jealousy of your partner can overwhelm you many times. You can imagine things that your partner has never done. You have the feeling that your partner is having an affair with someone else, but this is not happening at all. This placement can be suspicious when it comes to dating and love life. Your partner can also leave your life without knowing it, maybe while you are on a trip. They may fall for unavailable or elusive people, drawn to the dream of perfect love, which leads to heartbreak when the illusion fades. This placement can also blur boundaries when it comes to pleasure-seeking, sometimes leading to indulgence in escapist behaviors like substance use, risky romantic flings, or over-identifying with fantasy worlds.

Neptune in 6th house-you can imagine an illness or think you have an illness that you don't really have. Here you have to take care of your body's health, and it's difficult because you can have a different idea of ​​your body than it really is. Illnesses can come from your subconscious and you can also heal yourself. The idea of ​​a certain body can sometimes confuse you or you have the feeling that your body looks different than it really is. Anorexia can be common here (but it does not necessarily depend on other aspects).

Neptune in 7th house- it can happen that your partner suddenly disappears or leaves your life and you don't even know why. It's like waking up in the morning and your partner is no longer in your apartment and you start looking for them everywhere and you can't find them. As if they disappearance was very unusual and strange. However, since Neptune is the planet of illusions, it is possible to feel that everything in the relationship has always been okay and that the relationship has always been very good, but in reality you may find out that the partner did not like many things. The relationship itself can be very illusory, so you need to be careful not to get too involved.

Neptune in 8th house- can create a fog around emotional depth and intimacy. You may have a tendency to idealize your emotional or sexual relationships, seeing your partners as more perfect or spiritually connected than they are in reality. You might be more prone to fantasies about life after death, the unknown, or spiritual enlightenment, and this could skew your perception of reality. Neptune can create an unconscious fear of betrayal or abandonment, which may lead you to be paranoid or overly trusting in relationships.

Neptune in 9th house-There can be a sense of disillusionment or confusion regarding organized religions or traditional belief systems, leading to a more personalized or eclectic spiritual path. Neptune's influence can blur the lines between reality and illusion. There is a risk of becoming lost in fantasies or unrealistic expectations about education, travel, or spiritual pursuits. One of the primary illusions with Neptune in the 9th house is the idealization of spiritual beliefs or teachers. There can be a strong desire to escape into distant lands in search of freedom or spiritual awakening, but this can sometimes lead to an unrealistic view of the world. People with this placement might experience a sense of "spiritual wanderlust," constantly seeking but never fully finding the ultimate truth they crave.

Neptune in 10th house- You might struggle with finding clear direction in your professional life. Neptune can cloud your judgment, leading to unrealistic or overly idealistic goals. Neptune can cause you to project an unclear image, leading to misunderstandings or misinterpretations of your abilities. There is a tendency to idealize certain career roles or to feel a spiritual calling, but without proper grounding, they can become disillusioned when reality falls short of their fantasies. However, you must be careful not to lose yourself in escapist fantasies or idealize certain roles that might not be grounded in reality.

Neptune in 11th house-You might place your friends on a pedestal, seeing them through rose-colored glasses and ignoring their flaws. Neptune can blur boundaries, causing you to be too trusting or giving in your friendships. Neptune can cause you to be overly idealistic about your hopes for the future. They can easily lose themselves in the needs or expectations of others, sometimes becoming a "savior" or martyr within their social group. Friends may project their own fantasies or expectations onto them, which can create confusion or misunderstanding in these relationships. Be careful of friends which are false.

Neptune in 12th house- You may find it difficult to confront your own fears, trauma, or emotional pain, preferring to avoid them altogether. This avoidance can manifest as addictions or unhealthy habits, used to numb yourself from the emotional intensity of your inner world. You might not be fully aware of your hidden fears or suppressed emotions, leading to confusion or self-sabotage

-Rebekah🍀🧚🏼‍♀️🫧

[reallyhatethiswebsite]

Hark! I submit an official request for Raphael and someone (dealer’s choice) getting hit with the old Sex Pollen. It could be a trick by Haarlep or a plant/mushroom releasing pollen/spores in Faerûn during one of his visits. I leave circumstances to your brilliant imagination.

I love the sex pollen trope and would love to see you write it :) As always, feel free to make him or both of them as tame or unhinged as you like! Thank you! 💕

❤️

Raph gets pollened ☺️

-

There was a lot of strange stuff to find laying about in the ruins of Moonrise Towers. Most of it caked in dirt, dust, and other unidentifiable substances. The kleptomaniac in Tav had her poking around, putting her mitts on everything before those little tiefling gobshites stripped the place bare.

She was enamoured by something: a big round vial that contained some viscous liquid which, when Tav cleaned the bottle a little, glowed an ominous dark purple. The stopper was wedged too tight to open. It had been fermenting for a long, long time. Tav had discovered the bottle in a box with a decrepit occult codex of some kind and a burned out incense holder. Bizarre findings that warranted further investigation – after she’d raided everything else of value, of course.

“Well, well. Where should I find the mouse but scurrying about in a ruined old attic? Apt.”

“Shit!”

Tav nearly leapt out of her skin. The bottle went flying, shattering on the ground. A thin, noxious violet gas began to seep from its shattered corpse. The smell was pungent, stomach-churning; like rotten eggs and swamp water. Tav coughed and gagged, eyes wet, glaring at the devil who’d startled her so badly. He stood there innocently, unassuming, a single eyebrow raised at her display of drama. So much for finding out what that potion did.

“Do you enjoy getting the jump on people, devil?” She said waspishly, moving further away from the mess. “Gods, that stinks.”

“Sometimes. Mortals are much more likely to agree to certain things when they’re frightened,” Raphael purred. He tilted his head, taking a small whiff of the gas. “Hmm…it smells like peaches to me.”

Peaches, sure. “What do you want?” Tav crossed her arms. Never turn your back on a devil. Especially this one.

“Merely to see why my favourite future client isn’t celebrating with the rest of her merry band,” said Raphael. Tav noticed he was surreptitiously inhaling deeper sniffs of the potion, like a dog that had caught an interesting scent on the wind. He may not have realised he was doing it. “After all, you freed the angel. You struck down the avatar of a God. One would think a hero of such calibre would at least raise a glass or two in victory, no?”

“I don’t like crowds,” muttered Tav, keenly aware he was mocking her. He was always mocking her. Raphael shifted his feet, coming just a bit closer.

“Yes, I know,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I know a lot about you, Tav. I know the kinds of people you used to do business with before the mindflayers took you. I know the kind of work you did. I know where you came from, and where you were going before all of this.”

“What?” Tav stared at him, aghast. A mix of horror and, inexplicably, intrigue squirmed in her belly. How did he know these things? Why did he know these things? Something was off, though. Raphael seemed, for a brief moment, as shocked by his words as she.

“All that is to say…” He adjusted his collar. Loosened it. “Hells. Why is it so damn warm all of a sudden?”

In a crumbling tower, battered by the chilling miasma of the shadow curse, the only warmth came from the Infernal himself. “It’s cold up here,” Tav said slowly. A bead of sweat rolled down Raphael’s temple in contrast. “Are…you okay?”

“What a stupid question,” the devil snapped. He was becoming flustered, a fetching flush spreading across his harsh cheeks and the bridge of his handsome nose. “I must return to the Hells. Goodbye.”

He clicked his fingers, intending to disappear in a burst of hellfire as usual, but nothing happened. A mere sputtering of sparks from his fingertips fluttered and died. Outraged, Raphael clicked them again, harder, as Tav watched with mounting anxiety. No portal opened. The devil went nowhere.

“Foolish little bint,” he snarled at her. Revealed his pointed canines when he sneered. Tav saw his pupils were rapidly expanding, consuming the sweet brown of his human irises. “What was in that bottle you dropped?”

“I don’t know,” Tav bit back. Always aggressive when she felt cornered. “And you’re the reason I dropped it in the first place. Maybe this will teach you to stop needlessly scaring people, though I bloody doubt it.”

“If you don’t watch your tongue when you speak to me, I’ll pluck it out of your filthy mouth,” Raphael threatened, low and throatily. He tugged his collar open completely, revealing his neck and some teasing wisps of chest hair.

“Oh I see, the devil’s feeling a bit poorly so he finally shows his true colours,” crooned Tav. “It’s about time. I was getting tired of your gentleman act, you know.”

“Ah…to have your skin hanging on a hook in my foyer would be such a delight…” Rumbled the devil, almost absently. He began to unfasten the buttons of his jacket.

“What are you doing?!” Barked Tav. He didn’t answer. Tossed his coat aside and moved onto the buttons of his fancy white shirt. It was damp with sweat – and this was when Tav noticed the bulge between Raphael’s legs. His cock, hard and proud, strained in the fabric of his trousers. A hot spike of desire shot through Tav’s body. “Oh, shit…”

The potion must have been some kind of demented aphrodisiac, made potent enough over time that just a few inhales was all it took. It must’ve been pretty strong indeed if Raphael was crumbling under its influence so fast. Except it wasn’t affecting Tav. She could admit – only to herself – that her tingles of arousal looking at Raphael’s big, deft, tawny hands work the small buttons of his clothes, at the glistening, hairy skin of his chest as he opened his shirt, at his puffy dark nipples, at the trail of fuzz going down his soft middle to vanish below his belt, at the outline of his erection, at the wet spot its leaking head made on his trousers…they were on Tav alone. She’d been attracted to the smarmy devil from the start.

Figuring all this out, Tav had one thing to consider as Raphael reached for his belt: what did she do?

Indulge, of course. An opportunity like this only appeared once in a lifetime. A street cat like Tav knew it better than most.

So she bit her lip, breath baited, as Raphael freed his cock and balls, both fat with need. Ogled as he furiously, shamelessly, rubbed his prick, squeezed its swollen sticky dark pink head, his tight scrotum bouncing with the force, staring right at her as he did. Sighed when he came in moments, grunting, cum spilling on the ground, all over his knuckles, everywhere. His expression was stormy, devoid of relief or rapture, his cock refusing to soften.

“It’s not enough,” he hissed even as he milked more cum from himself in oozing pearls that lazily trickled between his glans, teeth bared in frustration. “It’s not enough.”

He looked furious, frantic, frayed, and so, so fuckable.

“Come here, then,” said Tav, distantly aware of how breathy she sounded, “let’s try something else.”

He was on her in a second. A waiting predator pouncing on its prey. Tav could barely gasp before he was swallowing her mouth in harsh, biting kisses, one hand fisting the hair at the back of her head, the other holding her hip with bruising strength. Tav greedily put her hands all over him, yanking his silky too-perfect hair, scratching his slick chest and stomach, crushing handfuls of his pliant backside. He was like a furnace, radiating stifling heat. He smelled like cherries and musky sweat. So human, but for the hint of sulphur he simply couldn’t hide. His tongue tasted like wine and fire when he forced it into her mouth, hungrily licking behind her teeth. He was a man unravelling, so much desire pressed beneath the surface just waiting for an excuse like this to burst free, and Tav wanted to see it all.

“Wretch,” Raphael spat when they broke apart. The ribbons of saliva connecting their lips were tinged red. He’d bitten her bloody. “Invading my thoughts…my dreams…and now my body…”

“Your fault,” Tav retorted, crying out when he jerked her head back, rolling his aching prick against her clothed sex.

“Inside,” he growled, losing coherence, “need to be inside…”

He manhandled her, pushing her onto a nearby broken desk. With one hand, and in one yank, he pulled her trousers and smallclothes down to her ankles. Tav heard fabric rip but couldn’t find the will to care. The eerie, twisted moonlight coming in from jagged cracks in the stone, the cursed lands’ grotesque long shadows – these things stretched and warped Raphael’s silhouette into the monster he truly was. Tav swore she felt claws, fangs, horns, saw the glint of yellow eyes…but he was still a man, driven and desperate, who pried her thighs open and stuffed her full of his cock, who rocked up on the balls of his feet to get as deep inside her cunt as possible.

“Fuck,” she groaned, raking her fingernails down his back. She was wet and willing, but it had been a while, he’d entered her without preamble, and his cock was thick. He was unforgiving, selfish, searching only for his own pleasure. The stretch, the burn, as he used her, fucking her hard, fast, violent, was hideous and exquisite. She clenched her cunt around his cock and he came immediately, snorting into her ear like a rutting bull. Filled her womb with hot liquid release. She could feel it spurting out of his cock with every throb. He had so much to give, and still he didn’t stop. Couldn’t. Much to Tav’s delight.

There would be Hell to pay when this was over.

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hiyah! could I request Donna with a reader who has a really ratty old stuffed animal that they’re super attached to that Donna is a little (very) jealous of? maybe during a crisis Donna tears it apart and reader is inconsolable for days and won’t even speak to her, until one day Donna very carefully repairs that stuffed animal for reader again. love some angst with a happy ending!

Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :)))))))

A childhood friend

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, Donna being Donna, Donna's POV

Word count: 7,770

Summary: How can I be jealous of a teddy bear...?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

I would never have imagined that I was waiting for someone, that in the darkness of my bedroom, loneliness wasn’t my only company.

After so many years of loneliness, of so much crying, horror… Finally I wasn’t alone and I would never be alone again.

My life is of no interest to anyone, it never was. Maybe I could have the feeling that I really left the young and crazy Donna Beneviento to become someone important, so “lady” preceded my name and I would feel special.

No, that didn’t work. I will always thank the Black Gods, Mother Miranda, for having been chosen for a cause that I am still not sure of. I became a Lord, someone to be feared. Yes, that sounded much better than: the crazy and sick doll woman.

But thinking that something in my life would change after my transformation was only part of an illusion, a desire of my subconscious to abandon my loneliness.

Yes, I had power. I could do things I would never have imagined. Causing fear and suffering to those people who one day messed with me was a fun pastime, but it didn't last too long.

Power brings fear, and fear brings loneliness.

It's not that I wanted to suddenly find myself surrounded by people who begged to serve me, as my sister did. No, that false desire to share my life with someone was the only bit of sanity left in my sick mind.

No, I didn't need anyone. I had everything without having anything.

Thanks to Mother Miranda's gift I was able to give life to my partner Angie, my only friend, the only one who, even without existing, was by my side all those years. A miracle from the Black Gods, a gift I can never thank enough for.

But after years and years of thinking that perhaps loneliness would always be my condemnation, that, simply because I was born into my family, having spent my childhood, my life in that sinister village, I would no longer have the right to be a normal person.

You appeared as a coincidence, as something that shouldn’t be there and at the same time had to exist; a beautiful, perfect girl, daughter of the village weaver.

Were you really a coincidence? It was becoming more and more difficult for me to see it that way.

You had something I needed. You had fabrics for my dolls. At first it was unexpected. The Duke simply didn’t have what I was looking for. When I saw you… When I saw you I knew that I would never buy fabrics from that greedy merchant again.

I preferred to see you, to see your innocent smile, the lack of trembling in your body when I was near. You were different, you didn’t fear me, or you didn’t show it.

That was much more than I had in my entire life, someone who smiled at me, who didn't run away from me, who didn't beg for mercy. It was sudden, my heart started to move strangely, to pound when I got close to you. Yes, I never had the chance to experience that thing called love, so it took me a while to be sure that it was what I felt for you.

Longings, sighs, smiles… All those changes, those involuntary actions of my body were like a disease, one that I did like to have, for which there was only one cure: You.

After a while trying to put my feelings back together, assuming that I really loved you, that I visited you only to contemplate your smile, I dared to tell you what I felt.

I wanted you to guide me. I wanted you to tell me what those sighs meant, those smiles that you were unable to see through my black veil. I explained everything to you, with fear, fearing that you would think I was just stupid, a poor crazy woman who didn't even dare to talk to people.

Your smile grew bigger and bigger and then… Then you confirmed it for me. Those butterflies in my stomach, my mind ravaged by your beauty, the sighs, the desire to see you… It was love.

I wasn't surprised by your timid explanation but... When I lowered my head, ready to run away, so as not to hear your rejection, so as not to hear that I was just a monster, then you did it. Without fearing the consequences of your audacity you lifted my black veil. You didn't uncover my face, just a little bit of it, just enough for your lips to rest on mine.

A kiss, the first of my life but not the last, a kiss from those tender, brave lips that didn't flinch, that didn't hesitate... The best kiss.

You also felt something for me. Your body was sick in the same way, it was sick of love...

Explaining how little by little the kisses became routine, how my caresses became more and more emboldened by your skin would be too boring. Everything we lived always had an end, a bitter one, the moment when you had to go back home.

Desperate, being selfish and possessive, one of those nights I begged you not to leave ever again, to stay with me. You, always surprising me, said yes.

And that, that was the first night in which our bodies could embrace each other eternally, in which the warmth of your body remained in mine.

“Okay, I'm done,” you said when your usual clothes disappeared to give way to a nightgown, the clothes that would accompany you every night. “Donna?”

“Oh, yes,” I said, shaking my head, leaving that journey through my memories, that explanation I needed to know that you were real, that you did exist. “Come,” I said, patting the mattress affectionately.

“Wait, wait, something is missing,” you said suddenly, searching for something among your suitcases. “That's it...”

I blinked several times when I saw you with something in your arms, it looked like a teddy bear, or at least, it once was.

“What's that?” I asked pointing at that ratty animal as you got into bed next to me.

“It's Percy,” you said with an innocent smile, showing me the teddy bear and moving one of its paws comically. “Hello, hello”

“Percy?” I asked again with a frown, taking the bear in my hands.

The condition of that plush was terrible. It was missing an eye and the seams seemed to want to tear. The passage of time was evident in the old bear, it reminded me of Angie.

“Mm,” you murmured as I continued to look at that worn teddy bear. “I've had it since I was very young, it's important to me, you know, like a friend.”

“A friend…” I whispered with an inevitably unpleasant grimace.

 I hate broken toys.

“Yes, I've been sleeping with him for as long as I can remember, he's always been with me, you know...” you commented, sighing and looking at the gestures I made on the animal, trying to recompose one of his arms.

“You haven't taken good care of it,” I murmured, looking at you out of the corner of my eye. “It's destroyed.”

You simply shrugged your shoulders.

“Yes, well... I've always taken him with me on my adventures,” you said with a nostalgic tone. “Time passes for everything, but for me he's still the same.”

“The same? (Y/N), it's missing an eye,” I said with a mocking smile.

I wasn't used to joking, I didn't even know how to do that, I always failed and that time, you didn't even bother to fake a smile, you just crossed your arms.

“You are missing an eye too and I love you,” you said with a dangerous whisper, one that indicated to me that you weren't joking.

I looked at you quickly, offended by your comment. You weren't careful, (Y/N), you didn't know how dangerous it was to joke about my horrible appearance.

Well, maybe you did, because your face immediately changed and you bit your lip, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Um, Donna, don't take it the wrong way... I, I meant it as a joke,” you stammered, with a reassuring tone.

I just nodded, taking one last look at that horrible bear and leaving it on the nightstand.

“Oh, no, no, wait,” you said climbing up my body and reaching out to grab the teddy bear. “Be careful, Donna.”

“Careful? Perché? I haven't done anything,” I said confused while you got off my body again, with that animal in your arms.

“Don't leave Percy anywhere, he’s fragile and... Well, besides, I already told you that I always slept with him so...” you said, placing the bow tie on that teddy bear, making me frown even more.

“Is the bear going to sleep here? In the bed?” I asked in a dark tone.

I didn't know why I acted that way, but I did, I had the need to do it, as if I myself considered that the bear was exceeding the limits of confidence.

“Yes... It's just that... Well, it may seem silly to you but... I continue, I continue sleeping with him,” you confessed a bit embarrassed, placing the bear delicately under the sheets, in a position that seemed horrible to me, between the two of us. “That way he could protect me.”

Ignoring the gesture of putting that plush to sleep with us, I laughed pleasantly, shaking my head and taking your hand.

“Come on, tesoro… You don't need it anymore, I'll protect you,” I said, moving the bear away from the bed.

You gasped, snatching it from my hands with a nervous, almost scared gesture.

“Um, I'm, I'm sorry Donna but I need it,” you said, looking away. “Well, unless… It's a problem for you… Be more careful, please…”

I blinked several times, trying to listen to your words over and over again and to interpret your serious expression as you returned the animal to that privileged place.

A part of me asked for tranquility, calm. The bear wasn’t something strange. I slept with my dolls, with Angie. I should know how important it could be for a person.

 The other part of my head, the one corrupted by hate, jealousy and madness, did nothing but scream at me to get that pathetic bear away from the place my body should occupy.

“Um, it's not a problem,” I said in a small voice, with an expression that surely didn’t show the intention of those words.

Does she prefer to sleep with that bear? How stupid you are, Donna…

“Taci!” I said out loud, startling you with the abruptness of my words.

Again I wasn’t careful. I let the voices in my head sound real, cloud my senses. Luckily, it was only for a moment, until your soft and reassuring hand rested on my cheek again.

“Honey, I didn't say anything,” you said with a nervous smile, with that tone you used when the shadows stalked me.

I was stupid to think that way, to believe that the pathetic bear could replace me. I wish I weren't condemned to madness, to imagine that, around every corner, there was a threat that sought to take you away from me.

“I'm sorry,” I said, rubbing my eye and kissing the back of your hand.

“Relax, I know the move has been stressful for you but...” you said, taking your hand away and lying down on the bed, guiding me to do the same. “I'm here with you now, my love...”

Your whispers, your words of love always served to soften my sharp soul. The day you were gone... I wouldn't want to continue living. Not even eternal life would be a gift. It would be a constant condemnation, a time in which your loss would never disappear from my wounded heart.

“Certo,” I whispered, forcing a smile, reaching out my hand to remind the softness of your skin, to remind myself that I wasn't living in a dream.

You laughed softly, like every time my imperfect hands touched your perfection. Not even the fact that my hand touched that teddy bear stopped me from enjoying your hand, getting a little closer to kiss your lips slowly.

“Careful, be careful, darling,” you said amused, harassed by the tickling my lips did on your skin. “Percy.”

I moved away as my smile faded, letting your hands leave me to take the plush out from under my body and position it again, ready to sleep.

“I'm sorry,” I whispered with a fake voice, glancing sideways at that one-eyed bear, one that seemed to enjoy its victory. At least that's what my mind interpreted.

It was our first night together, and the joy in my heart hid those irrational jealousies for a moment. Having your body sleeping next to mine, your deep, calm breathing reaching my ears like a lullaby... That was unbeatable, even with that disgusting Percy separating us.

I could barely sleep that night.

I couldn't sleep because I had you by my side, because my mind traveled from joy to sadness, then to fear, the fear as always irrational and almost psychotic. I thought when I dared to close my eye, I would lose you forever.

That didn't happen. I dared to sleep, to test my worries, and I won. Well, almost...

When the morning cold shook my body, forcing it to wake up, the first thing I did was to reach out my hand to you. You weren't there. The warmth of your body had abandoned me.

I quickly turned on the light and confirmed my fears. You weren't there, (Y/N), you were gone. My breathing became dangerously labored and my eye traveled all over the room until I lowered my head.

Of course, Percy was still there, looking at me with its one eye, mocking me. It wasn't what I expected to see when I woke up but at least... At least I knew that you weren't gone, you would never go without that filthy teddy bear.

Nervous because of that cold look, because of that bear's sinister shadow, I turned its head, its body, preventing it from continuing to laugh at me, even though it really wasn't.

“Good morning!” A high-pitched squeal made me stir.

Small, familiar footsteps walked towards the bed, jumping on top of it; my friend, my companion, my Angie.

“Don't shout, Angie...” I murmured, shaking my head. “Where's (Y/N)?” I asked curiously.

The doll laughed amused, climbing onto my lap.

“I think she's taking a shower,” she commented thoughtfully. “Did you sleep well?”

“No,” I said in a cold voice, briefly looking at the bear.

“Of course, of course, your conscience did its work,” Angie said with a haughty voice that made me frown.

“My conscience?” I asked, running a hand through my hair, constantly looking at the door, wanting for you to appear.

“Yes, silly Donna…” the doll said, putting a wooden finger on my nose. “I'm sure you felt guilty for having kicked me out of the room.”

“Oh, Angie…” I sighed, understanding the reason for that attitude. “We've already talked about it, you can't sleep with us. You disturb us.”

“Silly!” my doll shrieked. “That's unfair.”

“Angie, taci,” I said with a darker tone. “You have to accept that (Y/N) now lives with us, so do me a favor and behave, will you?”

“I can't behave with the silly girl who forced me to sleep in the office,” Angie protested, crossing her arms and letting herself fall on the mattress. “It's very cold there, Donna.”

“Stop complaining, you can't feel the cold,” I commented, shaking my head, refocusing my gaze on that bear and sighing.

The doll growled, mockingly imitating my posture until she noticed where my eye was pointing, until she noticed that strange presence on the bed

-Ohhh - she murmured curiously, cautiously approaching that teddy bear. -What is this filthy bear?

“It's Percy,” I said in a small voice, frowning and looking away. “It's (Y/N)’s.”

“Percy? Hello, hello Percy…” the doll said, shaking the bear's paw as if she was really greeting it.

I looked at her and couldn't help but smile at that scene. Angie was a demon, but sometimes she managed to look adorable. I don't know what would have become of me without her.

“Hey, you dirty bear! I'm talking to you!” the puppet said abruptly, indignant at not getting an answer.

I laughed amused, picking up the puppet in my arms and sitting her on my lap, fixing her messy hair affectionately.

“Ti voglio bene, Angie,” I whispered with my soul a bit calmer.

“Oh, cheesy Donna,” she protested, removing my hands from her face. “Hey, that bear is rude, he didn't greet me.”

I laughed again, leaving the doll alone.

“He doesn't talk, Angie, he's not like you,” I explained while the puppet examined the bear again with curiosity, shaking it comically.

“Che palle,” she complained. “Wait, wait, wait,” she said, as if she had just realized something. “I can't believe it Donna…”

“Mm?” I muttered, watching the door again in case you appeared.

“So, I, the wonderful Angie, the supreme Angie can't sleep here with you and that pile of dirt that looks like a bear can, right?” she protested, with an indignant pose, not leaving the poor bear alone.

I rolled my eye and sighed, relaxing my face again, turning it slightly dark.

“(Y/N) needs to sleep with it,” I explained looking down, remembering the conversation from the day before, those irrational thoughts that talked about stupid jealousy. “It's like... A talisman for her, or something like that.”

“How old is she, 5?” the doll mocked, laughing evilly. “Isn't she old enough for teddy bears?”

I sighed again, shaking my head.

“I can't judge her, Angie, until she came I slept with you,” I said in a low voice, taking the opportunity to remind myself that there was no problem with Percy.

“It's not the same, I can talk, and move, and be the best friend ever,” Angie said proudly, pointing at herself and sitting next to the stuffed animal. “Oh, look, look, he's missing an eye, like you...”

“Should I find that funny?” I said offended, crossing my arms. “It's (Y/N)'s teddy bear and she sleeps with it, that's all, there's no problem with it.”

“Are you talking to me or to yourself?” Angie asked, comically moving the bear's weak limbs.

I looked at her with a furious sigh, not having an answer for that accusation.

“I…” I stammered confused, but before I could try to defend myself, the footsteps on the wood indicated to me that, finally, you had returned. “Oh, (Y/N)…” I sighed with a smile as you leaned in to kiss me.

“Have you missed me, darling?” you asked laughing, surely due to my usual shower of kisses, a desperate one that tried hard to mark your skin. “Donna…” you said, pushing me away amused, kissing me for the last time and sitting next to me.

“I hope you slept well,” I said, forgetting for a moment about my dark thoughts, dazzled by your smile. “Have you been comfortable?”

“Oh yes, of course,” you said, nodding sincerely. “Besides, I already knew this bed…” you whispered in my ear, making the heat of my body move to my cheeks.

“Ugh!” Angie complained, interrupting unpleasantly. “Oh, my love, darling, give me a kiss, mooch, mooch, mooch…” the doll mocked, pretending to kiss Percy, something that made your smile disappear immediately.

“Hey! Don't touch him!” you screamed, moving nervously to snatch Angie's toy. “Don't touch him!”

“Ahhh!” Angie shrieked, fleeing from the unhinged fury of your words, hiding behind of me.

“(Y/N),” I said with a surprised look. I'd never heard you scream like that, I'd never seen you get that nervous. “Cal-calmati, amore mio…”

“It's not a toy, Angie, it's not for you to play with,” you said nervously, checking if my doll had caused havoc on that damn teddy bear.

“How dare you to yell at me?” Angie asked, peeking comically, pointing at you with her finger. “Say something, Donna, defend me.”

I should have, Angie was right.

“Behave, Angie, please…” I whispered, not sure that was what I meant. You looked at me gratefully, frowning, still holding Percy.

“Donna, you traitor …” the doll hissed moving away from me and getting off the bed. “I will get my revenge! You will pay dearly for your insolence! You and that filthy bear!” she shrieked before leaving the room, saying words that weren’t especially nice.

You shuddered, hugging Percy tightly, an image that my mind distorted horribly, making it not to look cute, but dangerous.

“Donna… She threatened me,” you said in a soft voice, getting a little closer to me with a scared look. “Angie won't hurt me, right?”

“Of course she won’t, tesoro,” I said, trying to reassure you with a sweet hug, with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don't pay attention to her...”

“And Percy?” you asked nervously, moving away from my kisses, from my comfort, and hugging that stupid animal tighter.

I sighed discreetly, shaking my head and drawing your body towards mine again.

“No, tesoro, she won’t hurt Percy either,” I said reluctantly, trying not to make my passivity so obvious.

Luckily you were too preoccupied with the bear to notice the apathy of my words.

That's how our coexistence began, in a strange but satisfactory way. After all, you didn't leave, you stayed with me.

I tried to forget about that bear, I tried to pretend that it didn't accompany us every night, that you hugged it instead of my body. Meditating in the solitude of my workshop, I came to the conclusion that there was no danger in you finding refuge in a childhood companion.

Yes, I stopped thinking about it, or at least I tried. You were so perfect… Seeing you every day, being able to kiss you whenever I wanted, being able to tell you at any time that I loved you, that you were my whole life, was a better gift than the second chance Miranda gave me.

Always so cheerful, so happy, sitting next to me while we read, on my lap whenever I worked on my dolls… I spent all my time with you, all the time I could. The kisses, the caresses, the hugs… Those divine gifts were my new routine. I couldn’t say I got used to it, because I could never do that.

Getting used to it would be trivializing your presence. It would be provoking your kisses to stop causing me that incredible emotion, to stop worsening of my favorite disease, my love for you.

But, although everything was perfect, although the days passed with my body in yours, with my lips adoring yours, there came a time when I began to feel a strange discomfort.

It was like a sensation that made our loneliness, our intimacy disappear. It was like when Angie was around, like when kisses couldn't be diverted into passion. The feeling of being watched got worse as the days went by and, even though I tried to ignore it, I really tried, I couldn't do it.

That bear, that damn bear was always with us. It didn't matter what we were doing. Eating, sleeping, making love, walking... That damn Percy always accompanied us, silently, with that disgusting eye laughing at me.

Living with you was wonderful, but... Yes, I hated that bear.

Your arms hugged it every night, that piece of cotton and fabric had the privilege of feeling your warm body, separating it from mine. It could be an exaggeration, a jealousy that made no sense at all, but… If I couldn't hug you at night, why Percy could? Was he more important than me?

Maybe I was indeed exaggerating. Maybe my mental problems made me see that filthy bear as an enemy and not as one of my lifeless dolls.

Openly admitting that I was jealous of Percy wouldn’t be good for us, I knew it and that's why I decided to pretend that I didn't care about the affection you gave him, that I didn't care about the kisses you gave to that battered fabric, those caresses so different from the ones you gave me.

But time only proved me right, it only fed my darkness. My lap was no longer a place for you, yours was now the bear's favorite place.

It seemed to me that you were distancing yourself, that you gave him much more than you gave me. It could simply be that I didn't pay much attention to you when I made my dolls, I even came to think that it was some kind of revenge for something I didn't know I had done.

I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't take it anymore, not that night.

The kisses were hot, wet. The panting began to fill the bedroom with lust. My heart was beating fast, my hands were traveling over your body. I was in paradise.

“Donna,” you moaned amused by my caresses on your neck, by the way my hands climbed up your legs, ready to touch you, to make you mine, to love you madly…

I laughed, biting your earlobe, moving your body so it rested below mine while my lips began to go down your neck. My mistake was not letting myself get carried away by the voices in my head, by those voices that I began to ignore.

No, the problem was much simpler, I opened my eye.

On top of your bedside table was that filthy bear, the damn Percy. He was always there, always next to you, almost closer to you than me. Maybe that's why I wanted to make love to you desperately that night.

I stopped, catching my breath, staring into that lifeless eye, feeling intimidated, watched, as if that Percy hated me, as if he was capable of feeling the same jealousy as me.

“(Y/N)…” I sighed, sitting up a bit, relaxing the movement of my caresses.

“Donna, why are you stopping? Are you okay?” you asked curiously, running a hand through my hair. I nodded with a frown, looking away from that bear. “Come here, my love…”

Your tender words brought back the desire of my lips kiss yours, but it only lasted a moment, until my stupid eye opened again.

“Mm, no, (Y/N),” I said, moving away again, shaking my head.

You looked at me curiously, with a strange look.

“What's wrong?” you asked with a soft, understanding voice.

You were so perfect…

“It's just that… I, I can't,” I stammered, looking back at that disgusting bear. “It makes me, it makes me nervous,” I said in a low voice, pointing at the teddy bear with my head.

“You mean Percy? Oh, Donna, it's just a teddy bear,” you said amused, pulling my face back to your lips. I pulled away roughly, determined that you would listen to me.

“Can you take it away from there?” I asked, with a cold look. “I can't concentrate.”

“Don't pay attention to him, I promise he won't say anything,” you whispered seductively, silencing my protests with another one of your tender kisses. Not even the softness of your lips could comfort me.

“No, t-take it away from there, tesoro, please,” I asked more nervously, with a frown.

It was a kind request, (Y/N). I don't know why you had to refuse.

“Don't be silly, Donna, just don't look at him,” you said, with a slightly more relaxed look, trying to divert my face from your table. “Don't be childish...”

“Childish?” I asked offended, mouth agape. “Come on, (Y/N), don't be stubborn. Put it down for a moment...”

I reached out my hand to fulfill my wish, but yours stopped me.

“Stop talking nonsense and come here, forget about Percy,” you said with an impatient voice.

Nothing I say is nonsense, (Y/N)

I tried to let myself go again, but I was too nervous.

“Cazzo...” I growled, watched by that lifeless eye, oppressed by the pressure of that smiling expression that would surely laugh victoriously for having won. “Cazzo!” I shrieked, moving to hit the stuffed animal, to throw it to the floor in an unpleasant way.

“What are you doing? Have you gone crazy?” you asked startled, pushing me to get off your body, desperately throwing yourself to the floor to pick up your teddy bear. “Oh, nothing happened to it, right?”

“I can't believe it, (Y/N),” I hissed nervously, shaking my head. “Leave that stupid bear on the floor and come here.”

“It's not stupid,” you said with a look that pierced my chest. “I already told you that it's going to get dirty on the floor.”

“But... You, you...” I murmured, unable to say a word, controlling my increasingly sharp nerves. “Porca puttana...” I hissed, getting up from the bed.

“Where are you going, darling?” you asked, confused by my abrupt attitude. “My love, uh… Why did you do that? You know how important it is to me…”

“You know what, (Y/N)?” I said, turning quickly before walking out the door. Your eyes looked at me scared, terrified. I didn't know what to say, I didn't know what I wanted to say, but I knew it wasn't anything good. “I, I'm going to the workshop.”

My cowardice was useful for once. I wanted to tell you so many things… I wanted to talk to you about my absurd jealousy, about my fear about that scruffy stuffed animal taking my place but… I couldn't do it, you would hate me for it and that only meant my fears made sense, that the bear was much more important than me.

I would have to calm down, my hands were shaking. That time I managed to avoid the crisis, but I didn't know how much longer I could bear it.

The next day started like any other, a romantic breakfast, your body on my lap again while I worked… It seemed like that tense moment had caused you to realize what my concern was.

But the reality was very different. That bear was still with us all the time, even closer to you, as if you wanted to protect it from another one of my slaps. You hugged it, held it close to your body. It was even closer than me.

“You know? I've been thinking…” you murmured while we ate. My gaze shifted from Percy, accompanying us, as always, and went to your beautiful eyes.

I nodded with a slightly forced smile, one that stayed alive in the light of your smile.

“Tell me what you've been thinking, tesoro…” I sighed romantically, something that made you smile in the same way

“Mm, I thought we could go for a walk in the woods, it's a really nice day,” you said with that soft tone, with that shy smile.

“Yes, a walk!” Angie exclaimed, startling us both.

“Um, no, just me and Donna,” you corrected in a slightly abrupt but amused manner.

“I want to go too, I want to go too!” the doll protested, tugging hard at my black dress, making me almost choke on my wine.

“Angie, cazzo, lasciami…” I protested, pulling the garment away from her wooden claws. “No, you're not coming.”

“Oh, Donna said a bad word,” Angie mocked, in an exaggerated manner. I shook my head, rolling my eye and smiling at you amusedly.

That smile faded when I saw you look at the bear and shrug. It made me so nervous when you looked at it…

“What did you say? A bad word?” you asked curiously.

“Oh, well, Angie's right, you better not learn those ugly words, sweetheart…” I said, dismissing my outburst with a wave of my hand.

“Donna, silly, mean Donna, I want to go for a walk, I want to go!” the doll shouted again, causing me to sigh tiredly.

“I said no,” I said firmly with a stern tone. “You stay here watching Percy, mm?”

“What?” you asked, startled by my innocent words. “Oh, no, no, Percy is coming with me.”

“That's it, choose the filthy bear over me,” Angie whispered, with her hands on her hips. “Donna, tell her something!”

“Angie… Can we eat in peace?” you asked again, clasping your hands together in a pleading manner.

My gaze darkened again and the hand holding my wine glass began to tremble. I couldn't believe it, I just couldn't believe it.

What was supposed to be a liberating step, without stuffed animals or dolls, was nothing but a continuation of that horrible routine in which Percy was always present.

My hand squeezed the glass so hard that it broke, causing you to moan in surprise.

“Uh, wow, you're strong, huh, honey?” you joked, removing the two glass parts from my hands. “Wait, I'm going to throw this so you don't cut yourself. Percy, keep an eye on her.”

The anger could no longer stay inside me.

“Don't go, (Y/N),” I said, getting up from the table and getting in your way.

“Oh, do you want something from the kitchen?” you asked innocently, emptying the broken glass’ wine into yours.

“No,” I said abruptly, with my teeth clenched, with my fist wanting to break more glasses. “The bear is not coming with us.”

“What? Oh, um, why not?” you stammered, putting the crystals in a basket and looking at me confused. “Of course it’s coming.”

“Of course it’s not. The bear is staying,” I hissed, breathing more and more heavily.

“No, the bear is coming with us,” you said with a fake, nervous smile, as if I was saying something crazy. I wasn't, I was right. “What's wrong with you?”

Your words only increased my nerves. I couldn't stand it anymore. The madness was starting to make me lose control.

“What's wrong with me, huh?!” I screamed furiously, unhinged, letting out that contained rage, that stupid and absurd jealousy. “Qual è il tuo problema!?”

“D-Donna, you know I don't understand Italian,” you whispered cautiously, backing away slowly. “What's wrong with you? You're, you're very nervous…”

“How long are you going to keep laughing at me?” I asked in a lower tone, but just as dangerous. “Tell me, have you decided to make fun of me until I can't take it anymore?”

“What are you talking about? Oh, honey, you're losing your mind again… I'll go get your medicine,” you said nervously, passing by me. A bad idea, since my hand grabbed your arm tightly, pushing you back with a furious gasp.

“Yes, I'm losing my mind… Because of you!” I shrieked, clenching my fists tightly and approaching your side of the table, where that stupid Percy was resting. “I'm fed up, (Y/N)! I’m Fed up!”

“Donna, you're scaring me…” you stammered, grabbing the bear to hug it, to take refuge in it, instead of me. That was the last straw.

“Oh…” I growled furiously, snatching it away from you roughly.

“Hey! Give it back to me!” you shrieked nervously while trying to reach it, something impossible, since I was holding it above my head and you… You weren't exactly the tallest girl in the village… “Donna!”

“No! What's wrong, (Y/N)? If you love this stupid bear that much, what are you doing with me?”

“What?” you asked confused, jumping uselessly to reach your partner. “Donna, stop…. Donna!”

“Basta!” I screamed with more anger, pushing you roughly. “I'm sick of this filthy bear! Sick of you loving him more than me!”

“What the fuck are you saying?” you asked, furious, giving up and shaking your head. “Have you gone completely crazy? I knew you were jealous, Donna, really, I knew you were possessive but to be jealous of my teddy bear… It's too much, even for someone like you.”

“If you don't want me to be jealous, stop putting this stinky thing in my bed, stop hugging him at night!” I shouted, shaking Percy in my hand, noticing how the weak stitching on its arm slowly unraveled.

“I don't think you're the best person to accuse me of that. What about Angie?” you asked, pointing at the puppet, who pointed at herself and shook her head.

“Hey, don't involve me!” the doll protested.

“She's alive, (Y/N), this fucking bear is not, he will never be, he will never love you like I do!”

“You're going crazy. You must relax, give Percy back to me and go with your stupid dolls,” you said in a calm tone, getting a little closer to me. “When you get over that stupid craziness, we can talk calmly.”

I narrowed my eye, still breathing furiously as you extended your hand towards mine.

“Come on, Donna, be a good girl and give it back to me,” you said, with a demanding tone that ended up driving me crazy.

I growled, lowering the stuffed animal to your height but immediately removing it from your grip.

“Do you want me to give it back to you?” I asked with a dark look that was surely terrifying.

You nodded, you didn't seem moved.

“Come on, Donna, give it to me,” you said with an impatient gesture.

“Cazzo!” I screamed, grabbing the bear with both hands and doing the worst thing I could do, ripping it, pulling at those weak seams to tear it in half, to tear apart your most precious possession and throw it to the floor with a grunt. “Here is il tuo orsacchiotto di merda!”

“Donna!” you screamed, exchanging pride for the deepest sadness. “No, no, no!”

Screaming, you bent down to pick up the remains of the animal, bursting into tears that tore my soul apart completely. My madness didn't allow me to pity you, not even for a second. I thought I had triumphed.

“Why…?” you sobbed, trying to put the bear back together in a pathetic way. The cotton was sticking out of the tear and one of the arms didn't fit anymore. “Percy…”

I just looked at you, my gaze still dark.

“Donna,” you sobbed, hugging the parts of the teddy bear. “You are a monster,” you whispered, staring me straight in the eye, tears running down your cheeks.

You didn’t say anything else, not even that terrible insult made me stir until you ran out up the stairs and locked yourself in the guest room among horrible cries.

“Oh, Donna, Donna…” Angie sighed, coming closer when she saw the white on my knuckles disappear and I began to realize.

“Oh… What, what have I done?” I said, as if I had just woken up from a nightmare, running a trembling hand over my forehead, looking at a piece of cotton on the floor. “No…”

“Donna, my friend…” Angie sighed, hands on hips. “…You screwed it up.”

Angie was right.

My absurd jealousy, my sick mind forced me to break Percy, to take away your childhood friend. I hated myself, I screamed, I yelled, but none of that could ease my conscience nor heal my mistake.

You stopped talking to me, almost looking at me. You didn't even sleep with me. I had lost you.

But it wasn't a quick loss, you didn't abandon me completely. You were still in my house, you hadn't left me. What was initially a relief became the worst of my tortures. I could see you, but not have you. I could hear you, but not talk to you, I could look at your lips, but I couldn't kiss them.

I tried, I tried by all means to apologize, to beg you to forgive me, but it wasn't enough, it never would be.

“(Y/N),” I said when, as always, you sat down to eat with me. Your gaze was cold, annoyed, it seemed like you really hated me. My voice was soft, sad, apologizing with every word I said. It was of no use.

You didn't look at me or greet me. You just poured yourself a glass of water.

“L-look, I, I made lasagna… It, it's your favorite dish,” I said shyly, serving her a perfect piece that she reluctantly accepted.

“Do you expect me to thank you?” you asked, ignoring my gaze again. At least it was the first time in days that I heard you speak.

“(Y/N), per favore… Listen to me…” I said nervously, with a trembling voice and a tear in my eye.

“I don't want to listen to you,” you said in a gruff voice, dragging the chair. “If you don't leave, I'll go to my room.”

“Forgive me, I beg you, I'm, I'm suffering, tesoro, you don't know how much I am…” I said in a more pathetic tone, reaching out my hand to touch yours. You stood up with a cold look, without a smile, without the sparkle in your eyes.

“What do you know about suffering? You have no fucking idea about people's feelings, Donna. I'm going to my room, I'm not hungry,” you growled, getting up from the chair and walking back to the stairs.

“(Y/N)…” I sobbed when I lost sight of you, resting my forehead on my hand, letting the tear I was holding fall onto the table.

As if saying your name summoned you, you approached again, hurriedly, picking up your plate of food with an embarrassed look, making a proud gesture as you took that lasagna to your room.

A strange smile formed on my face as I shook my head. At least you were still enjoying my food.

“Is everything okay?” Angie asked, climbing onto my lap.

“No, it's not okay at all,” I said hoarsely, pouring myself some wine. “I'm losing her, Angie…”

“Well, you've broken her childhood teddy bear and hurt her feelings, you can't be surprised by her reaction,” the doll said. She was right.

“I don't know what I can do… I'm desperate,” I murmured, playing with my food. “I'll lose her forever, because of me.”

“You gain nothing by regretting it, silly Donna, do something,”  Angie said, guiding my face so I looked at her.

“What? I've apologized in every possible way, I've begged her and… It, it didn't help,” I explained while the doll listened to me, pretending boredom.

“If you think that by saying sorry you're going to fix things up, you're more stupid than you look, Donna,” she said, making me growl furiously, pushing her off my lap.

“Angie…” I hissed dangerously while a word stuck in my mind: fix. “Oh, wait… I think I got it…”

“What, Donna? What are you thinking?”

“Come, I need your help.”

The solution came to my head like a fresh breeze. Yes, it was true that saying sorry was absurd, that it wouldn't fix anything but… That only happened when there was nothing to fix. Fixing my mistakes wasn't something abstract, metaphorical. I could fix everything, really fix it. If I wanted to get you back, I should fix Percy.

With Angie's unmatched help, and with you not seeming upset with my doll, I managed to distract you so I could go up to your new room and get back what was left of Percy.

I spent two days in the workshop, without eating, without sleeping, searching for every piece of fabric, recomposing every part of that damn bear. If it had to be with us so I could enjoy your love, so be it.

Two new eyes, a restored bow tie, reinforced seams, clean and soft fabric, a rebuilt smile, he looked brand new.

“Well, there you are…” I murmured, running a hand over my forehead, yawning from exhaustion. “Welcome back, Percy. What do you think, Angie?”

“Oh…” the doll murmured. “It's amazing, Donna, I'm sure (Y/N) is going to love it.”

“Either that or she'll hate me forever… Is she upstairs?”

The doll nodded.

Slowly, I went up the elevator, with the animal hidden behind my back, walking slowly towards you, who seemed nervous, looking under the furniture, at least until you saw me.

“You! You crazy nutcase! What have you done with Percy?” you shouted at me, pushing me by the shoulders. I didn't move, I just shook my head. “It wasn't in its place... You threw it in the trash, right?”

“No,” I whispered with a hoarse voice, trying to keep my composure despite your angry pushes.

“Yeah, right, stop pretending, Donna. I'm sure you've gotten rid of it, how long do you plan to make me suffer?” you asked, pushing me harder and harder. “Talk, you crazy bitch! Tell me where Percy is!”

I didn't answer, no matter how much my heart hurt from your insults. I simply moved the bear from my back, holding it with both hands and showing it to you, who immediately froze, blinking several times.

“What…? Percy?” you asked confused, shyly taking the restored teddy bear. “What…?”

“Hello, (Y/N),” –I said without moving my lips, pretending to be the animal. You looked at me out of the corner of your eye and shook your head.

“It's, it's incredible… It's, it's like I remember it when my parents… Gods… What have you done?” you asked, looking at the clean bow tie, running a finger over its two now perfect eyes. The smile was starting to appear on your face.

“Donna fixed me up. She put a lot of effort into it. Look at me, I finally have two eyes,” Percy said again while I looked at you with a sad expression.

“I see…” you laughed with a sincere smile. “Look at the seams… It’s, it’s perfect…”

“Donna loves you so much. She’s tried so hard to fix me up to make you happy. She didn’t want to hurt you. She was just being silly, were you, Donna?” Percy said.

 I nodded slowly.

You shook your head and laughed amused, leaving the bear on a table and walking towards me, cupping my face in your hands.

“Donna, my love…” you whispered, with tears in your eyes. “Honey…”

“I’m so sorry, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you suffer… I, I just…”

You interrupted me the best way you knew, with one of your tender kisses, one that almost made me cry, one that you hadn’t given me in too long.

“I behaved like a fool too,” you said, playing with my hands. “I know the whole Percy thing was hard for you, Donna, but… Don’t, don’t worry, we’ll both make an effort to be a bit better, okay? I love you so much, my love…”

“I love you, (Y/N)…”

[staarboyyy]

Necessary evils | Negotiations chapter ii

Ben [ Soldier boy ] x reader | no pronouns

explicit - minors dni

tags / warnings ; dubcon, reader has vagina, intoxication, weed use, cocaine mentions, slight angst, porn with a plot, destructive mutualization, lap sitting, pleasure denial, grinding ("the knee thing"), slight underwear fetish, m!masturbation, couch sex, free use elements, creampie, verbal threats, reader takes initiative (aka fucks around and finds out, with feelings!), is soldier boy a warning? if so, soldier boy antics!,

summary ; after the night in the alley, you cant help but wonder caused it all.

word count ; 5.3k

a/n ; [ Reposted with a full ending and edits ! Thank you for the support, even on accidental posts :"D] can be a stand-alone fic, but really meant to be a chapter 2 for my first fic on tumblr, Negotiations <3 thank you all for 200 followers, ill never be able to express the gratitude in my heart that has flourished in this community!! heres to writing format improvement, cheers! *tink!

Ben grunted as he pushed himself from the creaky motel couch, sighing quietly while his eyes scanned the room silently - As he landed on a small shoe box pushed underneath a desk, he bent at the waist to grab ahold of it, sliding it out with a hum. Upon flipping open the lip in time with sitting back down on the couch, made way for the harsh and bitter smell of weed and tobacco. His large hands sifted through the different items, plucking a glass pipe and grinder from the box and setting it next to him. The motions of this gave way for a strange familiarity, the smell, and movements of packing the bowl reminding him of hiding weed from his father decades ago. He was always insistent a boy like him should be 'straight-edge', clean, and practically from marble. He gave a quiet chuckle as he brought the pipe to his lips, glancing up at the ceiling. Before down towards the floor. No way in God's green earth had his father made it into Heaven. He gave a light stomp as he flicked the lighter over the bowl - It was muscle memory, though since his father died he made it a point that he'd never rest, not even after death. With a gracious inhale, Ben's lungs filled with smoke, pulling down the thickening barriers of his throat, mind reeling black and white grainy family photos. It made him sick to dwell on his family. Though the exhale cut sharp through his lips, throat stiffening at the burn that sliced that part away from him. He went in for another, heel coming down once more to thump against the floorboards, a smirk now pulling at the corners of his lips. Smoke filled the apartment, not unusual for this time of night, even as it made its way into your sleeping nostrils.

Working with Hughie and Butcher was not your intent. You told yourself this, as you watched the two men unfold into animals, lacing their arms with bands and injecting temp v at any opportune moment. It made it difficult to sleep, knowing the two were out at night, rampaging the streets in hopes of finding Soldier Boy's past team; And also the tense presence of Ben sitting on the couch, just a foot or two away. You stirred at the strong smell, shifting slightly as you adjust yourself on the worn-in couch, propping your elbow up on the armrest with a soft grimace. It wasn't comfortable by any means, but the exhaustion of the day had hit you like a freight train.

"How long was I out?"

"An hour or two. You fuckin' crashed, figured you'd need it."

Nights such as these came with a sense of peace; Like a lion and crane feeding at a watering hole, side by side with eyes unwavering as you do what they must to get by. The peace was faint, gritty between Ben's fingers as he packed a bowl down gently, shifting his jaw. He brought the lighter up to the pipe once again before his eyes set on you- The bowl sizzled as he inhaled, smoke drifting from his nostrils as he effortlessly pulled from the pipe, puffing it as if it were a cigar. His next motion came at a strange interception of his mind and body, hand moving to offer the lit pipe towards you. He gave no words, though it seemed he wouldn't have been able to conduct them into genuine conversation nonetheless.

Typically, you'd shake your head, or wave your hand, leaving the Supe to his devices - Though, the crickets shrouded the night air, pulsating through the thin windows and swelling at the shine of the moon, thick clouds parting like curtains to expose the soft light. This wasn't a night typical for you. You reached out, pursing your lips slightly as his rough skin grazed yours, his thumb lingering on your smaller fingers for a few moments. You tentatively brought the pipe to your lips, eyes casting over the man; He looked painfully human like this, relaxing back into the couch, spreading his thighs with a grunt as he looked back toward you quizzically. You pulled from the pipe, thumb pressing against the small hole, releasing as the bowl crackled a hot orange. The smoke cut down your throat in a harsh wave, coasting over your muscles with a hitched breath as your grip on the pipe tightened slightly, tears wetting the corners of your lashes at the fire lit in your lungs and throat. The smoke escaped you in small puffs, between coughs, dishing in the occasional sip of water from a crinkled 'room service' water bottle. It seemed to entertain Ben strangely, watching you quietly as you recovered from the harsh breath of smoke with an extended hand to take the glass piece back from you. The thick veil of smoke in the air twisted in ribbons as you spoke.

"Remember when you talked about our deal? What made you," You trailed off, recalling the night with a creeping burn ringing in your ears, the feeling of his hands seared into your mind.

"Mhm." Ben didn't miss a beat replying in a deep hum, his eyes now settled closed as he relaxed back into the couch with a sigh. "I don't know. "

He knew the question was coming, though with the anticipation came no rousing answer; In truth, he didn't know. He hadn't been drawn to you before that night, and now finding his pulse speeding due to just being in close proximity of you was... A shift. That was for sure. Ben shifted his jaw slightly, head leaning off to the side a bit. Sex was materialistic, something traded, an exchange - Kissing though. It made Ben's fingers clench into slight fists beside himself, pulling in a slow inhale as his mind returned back to the alley. Your lips against his. The thrum of Ben's heart began to pulse in his temples, rushing down his abdomen as he recalled the feeling of it all. His eyes opened, shifting his weight and keeping his gaze pinned to the space in front of him.  "You think I'm a bad guy?"

"...Yes." You weren't sure what he wanted to hear in that moment, his blue eyes fixated on the spot in front of him as your attention fell from his expression to his hands. How they fisted the spaces in the couch beside himself; Yet the geiger counter Hughie left behind remained still. Not rage, not frustration, or a slew of memories. You couldn't place what was eating away at him, not exactly. Though as you confessed yourself, in a single word - The first thing to come from Ben was a chuckle. His fists uncurled, clearing his throat as his eyes moved over the room with a shake of his head. The answer didn't seem to satisfy him - He didn't know your scale of what was and what was not bad, no way to place where he was in your mind, let alone on a metaphorical scale of morality. He brought a hand to his face, palm, and fingers rubbing at his stubble before looking over toward you. His expression was unreadable, not necessarily negative, the lingering breathy chuckle leaving behind the remains of a smirk. Ben wet his lips, parting them for a moment.

"You scared'a me then?" Ben breathed the question, his tone far different from the one he asked a few moments ago. It was a hardened thought as if he'd already concluded the answer before he even asked - Though he wanted to see it. That moment where the searching in your eyes falls to a fearful pricked gaze, goosebumps on your skin as Ben's question truly dawned on you, the man tilting his head slightly, brows still furrowed. He knew that you were scared, but his face read he had no inkling of such a thing; A truly evil man, is one who can be good when he chooses to be.

"Do you want me to be?"

It was a good answer, one that left Ben in yet another warranted corner, grappling with his rather intrusive blood flow. With another shift of his weight, he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, inhaling sharply through his nostrils. The dust of cocaine surely didn't go unnoticed, Ben wiping the remainder of it from his upper lip with his thumb, and rubbing it over his tongue. He wouldn't let any go to waste, especially considering Butcher would be now... less inclined to support his rather persistent habit. It showed though; That widened gaze, pupils dilating and lips parting just enough to make way for slow breaths - The smell of whiskey and tobacco. He was always high, smoking even more than Frenchie, but there was a strange tension when he cut lines on the coffee table in front of everyone. It was a different level, the elated silver of his blue eyes pinning people to the spot, unwavering, unblinking. Terrifying, And yet there you sat.

"I think you're already past that. The whole scared thing. I mean shit, you're damn well traumatized."

"I'm stronger than you realize, you know?"

"I could pin you with one hand and take you over my knee with the other." Your throat dried, his gaze inspecting your reaction with a tentative inhale, breathing out a hum as he reached for the pipe still white-knuckled in your hand. He wasn't wrong - He had proved that, yet your stomach twisted into a tight knot at his little hesitation to make it crystal clear. His index and middle finger curled inwards twice, gesturing to the pipe with his eyes still searing into yours. You handed it over with a quiet sigh, eyes breaking away from his before he could dig himself deeper into your mind. You weren't sure how he did it, explored the darkest pits of your mind and clutching them with a forceful intimacy. You recalled the kiss, intermingled with hitched gasps and pleads for mercy, as your hand grazed his. It was warm, his ravenous hands working in stark contrast to the sudden plush in his voice and groans. It was nearly human. Ben paused for a tense moment, eyeing the pipe and parting his lips as the warmth of your skin rested against the callous of his own. You chewed your lip, sneaking a glance at the man who now visibly gathered his thoughts, tensing his jaw as he surrendered the words away, pursing his lips to punctuate his silence.

Sometimes you still wonder what he was going to say. Before he pulled his hand back from yours, before clearing his throat as he caught your stolen glimpse. He set the pipe down onto the small table, watching the bowl fizzle out with you, the black layer slowly crumbling to a dull white ash.

"I was going to ask why you kissed me,"

"I know." You tensed, half expecting him to be far past dozed off during the rolling periods of silence between you. Your eyes moved from the long put-out bowl to look in his direction, though he was already looking at you. The weight of his gaze fell onto your shoulders, beading down your body in slow waves. Ben wet his lips, pursing them once again; And you knew that was all you were going to get. It was nearly impossible to pry him from his mind when he sunk back, his eyes distant for a bleary second, before being blinked away, darting around for the closest vice to pull him back.

But there you were. His vice. The drug no material high could compete with, your soft lips shaping into words he could hardly conceptualize past the thick veil of his rushing pulse. He wanted to constrict himself, for the sake of himself, clench his damn fists and look away from your lips. He swallowed, jaw tight as you leaned closer to him in an inaudible allure, tying the both of you to a painful high. You could feel his breath, hot against yours as he inhaled slowly, his hands unlocking themselves from the couch to reach toward you.

     As Ben's large hands moved, he inhaled deeply, his eyes never leaving your lips. The warmth of his skin against yours sent an electric shiver down your spine, and you found yourself leaning your body closer to him. He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat and conflict in his eyes, the battle between his selfish desire and his self-control. But as he allowed you to press your weight against his own, his lips brushing against yours, you knew that he had lost the war. 

     Bens's lips moved against yours, slow, painstakingly hesitant as if you were made from glass. His hands moved to your waist, pulling your body closer to him as he deepened the kiss. You could taste the weed on his tongue, mixing with bitter liquor, the soft scratch of his stubble rubbing against your skin. You moaned softly against his mouth, your hands moving to his chest, clutching tightly at the collar of his sweatshirt, still dotted with water from his hair. He groaned, the sound deep, and pulled from his chest, a breath of surprise passing his nostrils as you pulled yourself impossibly closer to him. Your legs rested beside his, straddling his lap as your fingers moved to his cold wet hair, tangling themselves through the soaked strands. His tongue traced your bottom lip, his mouth practically watering as you began to grind yourself down against his stiffening cock. A familiar pulse strung itself in your desperate movements, an instinctive dance you couldn't help but lose yourself in, your heart thrumming in your chest, heartbeat quickening in your ears. You took in a ragged breath, lips still pressed messily to his as his hands gripped your hips with a pleading grunt.

"What're you doin' to me, huh baby?" Ben whispered against your glossy lips, his eyes still closed, forehead gently resting against yours. You wish you could answer feasibly, and bring your swelling need to words, but the feeling of being against him was intoxicating. His grasp was like steel, unwavering, fingers moving in practiced gropes, invasively pulling your thighs further apart with little effort on his end. Your struggles, the moments your thighs hitch together or your back arches an inch out of place, were hardly anything to him. His hands molded you in forceful need, the heat of your skin and the sound of your breathing; He wanted it all, all of your weight against his statuesque body, the feeling of the gathering heat between your thighs grinding against his cock. 

"Deals a deal," You reminded the Supe with gritted teeth, pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck. Though it did nothing, hardly feeling like a tug, he tilted his chin up, relaxing his shoulders into the couch. Your heart thundered in your chest - You felt like a mouse balancing on the paw of a lion waiting to strike, as you pestered and teased him. He clawed into your hips, palming your ass with a shudder as you lowered your head to his jaw. Your lips traced his stubble, humming softly as you reached his neck, grinding your hips down against him.

"Oh, is that what this is?" Ben spoke in a shallow rumble. "I should'a known better." You felt yourself lift from his lap, his hands bringing you into the air with ease to lay your back on the couch, grunting softly as he pinned your hands beside your head, positioning himself above you. Your breath swam shallow in your chest, swirling from your lips in a mix of moans and echoed pleas. For just a split second, the crushing heat of fear cut through your arousal in a searing slash, your thighs quivering, instinctually going to snap together. Ben's knee caught the space between your legs before you could deny him further, his pressing need to predict your movements drawing a whimper from your throat. He was like stone, no matter how your thighs wriggled, it all resulted in your clit pressing snug against his knee. You could feel your cheeks burning, rushing with the same heat that pulsed itself in your aching cunt. Ben watched your expression shift, releasing your wrists slowly as he pressed his knee experimentally against your heat. You let out a pitiful mewl, watching him slowly reach one of his hands down to grope his clothed length, the veins in his arms bulging as he dipped his fingers past his waistband with a sharp exhale.

     The noises you made stirred something in him, his cock twitching with each strained breath that caught your throat. Ben tugged the waistband of his sweatpants down, wetting his lips with a strained grunt as he freed his aching length. You shuddered, feeling his gaze on your face as you watched him wrap his hand over his thick shaft, moving in time with a slow grind against your pussy. Precum pearled at the tip, his thumb rubbing over his slit with a sharp exhale as he gazed at you hungrily.

You'd never forget those eyes, obscured by the drape of his dripping hair as he stroked himself to the image of you before him. Sweat beaded on his temple, brows arching as your back did, letting out a soft grunt as his eyes clung to your features. Ben's other hand released your wrist; He knew well enough he didn't have to restrain you to get what he wanted. His fingers traveled over your arm, rough palm rubbing against your burning cheek, before hitching his grip to the waistband of your thin shorts. His thick fingertips pushed past the fabric with an eased grunt, stretching the elastic band down to expose your underwear. Ben's jaw tensed before his lips fell open to take in a gritted gasp, gripping his cock as it pulsed at the mere sight of you. Your thighs swell over the edges of your underwear, the pearls of sweat pooling in the curves of your features. The air was thick with your hot breathing, eyes pinned on his cock, and how you affected him with each piece of clothing peeled back. Though by the time you had shed your shorts, his patience had worn thin, standing to his feet to properly rid of his sweatpants; Your breath caught in your throat as you did your best to keep up with the man's motions, how quickly his muscular arms crossed over his wide shoulders, pulling the sweatshirt from himself. Scars etched through his skin behind his chest hair, moving with his body as he sauntered toward you.

"Take everything but those lil' panties off, before I rip it all off you sugar."

You manage to comply, prying away the fabric confining your now sweat-glazed skin, pooling in the curves of your body. You could hear his breathing hitch with every article shed from your frame, your shirt discarded messily over your head. You were left as he wanted, as he demanded, head lulling off to the side as you looked up at him. Ben looked almost smug, satisfied as his hand, unmoving at the base of his aching cock, began to stroke slowly, lips parting as he admired you. Your hands clutched at the spaces beside you on the couch, imagining how your nails would feel grinding into his shoulders, raking down his back. The heat wound tight around your senses, breathing shallow as he took two steps toward you, free hand extending to tap your knee with his index and middle finger.

"Open these up, don't be all innocent now." He spoke in a husk voice, blue eyes perched on your chest, admiring how it contoured in decadent shadows with each of your delicate breaths. You wanted to hesitate, though his calloused fingers remained unmoving on your knee. Your body rushed in a hot pulse, cheeks searing as the thought dawned on you.

If you didn't open them, he would simply do it for you.

"That's it now, pumpkin." You shuddered from his pleasure at your eyes leering away from his invasive stare, knees wobbling slightly as you spread them for the man in front of you. They were a simple white pair, nothing special you thought; You dimly remember pulling them on this morning, eyes raking over yourself in the mirror with a chew of your lip. You would never imagine someone taking such a violent and carnal need to see you like that - Like this, Ben's fingers sliding down from your knee to the soft of your thigh. He kneaded your flesh, shamelessly jerking his cock as his touch left a fire in its path, rampaging your mind as he drew closer and closer to your needy heat. A whine hummed through your chest, perhaps racketeering with a man known for his selfish dalliances was less than wise, you thought - Regret, hesitation, it pulsed in your mind in an evil concoction, it strung tight in the path of his hot touch, how small grunts escaped him with each arch of his rough palm against his member. You wanted to sputter an excuse, your lips parting, the words about to spill from them; Before his hand rested on your cunt. The strings that tightened your throat, binding each one of your movements to him and his reaction to you, snapped. Your stomach fluttered as if you were on a rollercoaster, the aching tension of the rattling chain releasing, the traction giving way to an indescribable rush and sending you rocketing downwards. You knew you were being pulled, chained, and bound to the force of a man above you, all by the tips of his fingers now circling your clit in time with his strokes.

"Fuck," You huffed shakily, hardly able to conduct the electric shivers stippling your movements as you let your weight relax into his fingers. Your hips rocked slowly, clit pressed snug against the calloused warmth of his fingers. Ben's hand moved with a deliberate rhythm, his thumb flicking over your clit as his fingers danced circles around it. He watched your body, the way your chest rose and fell, the way your eyes fluttered, and your lips parted. His breathing grew ragged, and he grunted with each stroke of his cock, the head glistening with precum. You felt the fire inside you, spreading from your core, igniting every nerve ending. The room seemed to fade away, leaving only your body, Ben's touch, and the sounds of your own ragged breaths.

"Look'atchya," Ben whispered, his voice thick with a pillowy rumble. "Soaking through your panties," You didn't didn't respond, your throat too tight to form the words. You only nodded, silently pleading, the motion of your head sending another lashing rush, the pangs of denied pleasure practically agonizing.

Ben's eyes met yours, a hunger and a want for you in them. He licked his lips and leaned in, his breath hot against your cheek. "You're fucking depraved," He whispered, his fingers dipping pulling at the thin cotton, hot against your sensitive flesh. He smirked, his thumb now toying in circles over your clit, pulling it taut with each pass. "Gettin' all wet for a bad man like me,"

Your back arched with a moan, head falling back against the couch, his words sending a thrilling shiver down your spine. The way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you, it was all far past intoxication. You felt like you were drowning in lust, the water rising higher and higher, threatening to swallow you whole. His fingers played with you, circling your clit with a deeper pressure, teasing you, making you squirm.

Ben's other hand slid up your thigh, grasping the underside of your knee, pulling you closer, and simultaneously spreading your legs. His cock, thick and heavy, rested on the soft mound of your pussy, teasing you with the promise of what was to come. You whimpered, needing more, needing him.

"Please, Ben," You begged, your voice a ragged whisper. You'd damn yourself later for sounding so pathetic eyes stinging with tears of need, cheeks hot with your desperately rushing pulse. He watched you for a sick moment, holding his thumb to your clit, lips twitching into a sadistic smirk as your squirmed frantically. You shuddered out a gasp, frustrated and desperate. His fingers stilled on your pussy, Ben's rough palm now stroking the base of his member. Your body jerked slightly, the denied pleasure mingling with a bitter pain. Ben's lowered the head of his cock, letting his girth slide between your pussy lips with a strained grunt. Pressed against your glossy entrance, rubbing against it in slow circles now, your hands reached his shoulders, nails carving into the muscular flesh.

"Beg for it."

And you did. You remember your lips hanging open, drawing in shallow breaths as you couldn't tear your eyes from the tip of his cock; How he teased you with each small breach. Tears wet your lashes, shame and need wrestling in your chest with each heaving breath between obscene words. You couldn't recall the words, the magic phrase you spoke to please him just enough to give you what you craved more than anything. It was too foggy, too spun out by the responding movement of Ben's hips.

"Nasty little thing," The man praised, hooking your knees against the curve of his elbows, yanking your ass to the edge of the couch. You cried out quietly, unable to gather your breath before the hot boiling mix of pleasure and pain began to wash over your sweat-glazed body. He slid inside, slowly at first, lip twitching as he groaned quietly. Your cunt pulled him in, the velvety breathlessness of your moans and pleads beckoning him to fill you. When his hips hit yours, the pillowed warmth of your ass slapping gently against his thighs, he admired you for a fleeting second - How your cunt wrapped over the hilt of his cock, your hips already rocking as the bitterly sweet familiar feeling of him swept you away entirely. You'd never admit to him how perfectly he fit inside, how a tugging part of your heart yearned to hear his soft moans, to hear him plea for you. Though with a hesitant draw of your eyes to meet his, you could feel the ice-hot revelation shackling your aching cunt around him, how his refusal to use you slowly seemed to short-circuit your blinded mind. He knew what you wanted; But he knew the darker side of you as well. The part of you that could never love him, but craved his calloused touch, the taste of his whiskey, the smell of his smoke. Ben thrust violently into you, the couch creaking in sharp squeaks as he practically lifted your ass from the edge of the couch, eyebrows knitting together as the new angle set a flame in his movements. Your breathing couldn't keep up, sweat dampening your hair as your hands uselessly held onto his shoulders with white knuckles. Your words floundered from between your plush lips, eyes rolling back with the rushing force of each one of his thrusts. It spun your feeble mind, melting in his hands, your grasp falling away from his shoulders with a pathetic sob. It was useless; Whether you were moaning in ecstasy, or fighting tooth and nail, he could use you when he saw fit. Use you brutally, your cunt quivering around his invasive cock, his hands moving to your waist now.

"Stop your fuckin' squirmin'!" You hadn't realized you were until his rough hands pinned you down to the worn fabric of the couch below you. He palmed your hips like a sex toy, admiring the feeling of your pussy continuing to milk him despite stilling inside of you. The head of his intrusive member pressed and rested in the small curve of your cervix. His eyes sized you down, undressing your naked body, pulling the innocence from his perspective of you; This is how you wanted him to treat you? To admire you for a transient instant before reeling his hips back, and snapping them forward with a vulgar clap of your ass. He stayed deep inside, only pulling out a few inches before slamming back, stamping the head of his cock against your cervix, pushing you to your absolute limit - All with a sickening smirk on his face, beads of sweat falling down in small pools down the curve of his jaw and prominent edges of his muscular neck and chest. Your hands explored every inch of his skin, drinking down whatever opportunity to feel him, to pry underneath the facade. Sparks flared behind the thin lids of your eyes, lashes wet and messy with tears, cheeks aflame as your body followed in smoldering suit. Ben didn't let up his thrusts, the telling pulse of your eager cunt, the incandescence moans choked from your throat. "That's it now angel, that's right - That's it, soak my cock, baby." The man's voice was mesmeric, unable to pull his attention from the unsteady breath in your growing moans. The undeniable limerence pulsated in his veins, the simple sound of your voice threatening to spill him over the edge. The ambrosial tone of your connection bound your senses to him, all the hot sparks that frayed your skin now tightened themselves in your aching cunt.

"Cum for me," Ben's words hardly pressed past the thick veil that lashed and licked hungrily at your heartbeat and body, a hot white pleasure shocking your quivering cunt. The man above you groaned, pulling your hips down to meet his, the sudden sensation of his cum filling your convulsing cunt washing over your hot skin. You tensed, legs locking around the other's waist. He gripped the back of the couch, splintering and cracking the wood underneath his iron grasp, shuddering out a hissed breath with each shallow thrust of his hips. His movements slowed, drips of his sweat dotting your skin, the heat of your mingling breaths thickening the oxygen you gasped desperately for. Slowly, he pulled himself from your pussy, letting out a strangled moan as the tip popped out, his warm cum following in a slow trickle.

Your eyes were half-lidded, eyes swimming up to find Ben, watching his toned body pull away from you, his slick cock still half erect, your juices dripping messily down his strong thighs. Your legs shook, still raised, as if stuck in that obscene position until he demanded you do otherwise - Though when the warmth of his palm met the soft of your trembling thigh, he pushed down slowly. Your legs relaxed, meeting the couch with a grunt, Ben's hand lingering on your skin for a brief moment. You knew the pain would come later, the bruises flowering over your hips, returning to the silent tension that Ben insisted was better for both of you. He took a seat beside you, his chest rising and falling with a steadying breath before looking towards you with a lazy chaste expression.

"You tell anyone about this, I'll fuckin' kill ya." You couldn't help but turn your head, speaking softly between gasps for air.

"If you were really going to kill me, Ben - You would have done it already."

[crescenthistory]

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.

[myuni-moon]

SAGAU: Reboot (Part 3)

cw: violence, reader falls unconscious

You’re operating fully for survival the moment you feel the hard pressure against your skin. The manacle feels too tight, and you tug on it to hopefully grab the attention of anyone close enough to hear your strangled cries amidst the rattling metal. Kaeya lifts you so easily into the air, as if you were truly nothing. The need to claw at him to release you becomes great, and you act out solely in pure instinct.

Without thinking, your nails make contact with the arms keeping you in a chokehold. All you can envision is the scrape against his muscles, and you pray you leave enough damage to make him stop. You can only worry then what happens after that.

“You’re so pathetic, it’s almost cute.” Kaeya laughs. It grates your ears. Your consciousness is close to slipping, and it makes you even more desperate. You kick. You cry. You struggle. Anything to get away from him.

A breeze passes by you, tickling the hairs on your legs. In a locked room with no windows, it is completely out of the ordinary. However, in your frazzled state, you can’t care for it– not when a pair of thumbs are threatening to crush your windpipe without so much as hesitation. Black dots your vision. Your head feels so fuzzy. You want to live. That’s all you think about; survive, fight, pray– you pray someone, anyone comes for you.

You’re let go abruptly, your body dropping unceremoniously onto the floor. Coughs ripple your lungs as you attempt to breathe in as much oxygen as you can manage. Your vision is still hazy, and your head rings with the adrenaline rush coursing through your veins. Like a bug, you writhe on the floor as the reprieve settles into your system.

In the fever-like state, you can only hear glimpses of a high-pitched voice.

“… too much… unconfirmed... traveler… without Paimon… elemental trials…”

You black out.

You find yourself in a white void. Nothing and anything is bound to happen. The strangeness of your current setting should be another cause for caution, but any panic within you dissipates as if it never was there to begin with. You settle with staring into the endless space.

“We have waited for so long.” The words tingle like strings on a lyre. Each melodic ring reverberates in your head, a choir of disembodied voices speaking to you all at once.

Your head whips from one direction to another, “who are you?”

A blue light materializes before you; it circles around your form. It grazes around your skin, tickling every part it touches. “We are here to serve you, dearest one.” You reckon the light is who you’re talking to.

“What do you mean?”

Your head tilts in confusion, and the sprite blinks as if amused at your confusion.

“We,” it sings, “are made to heed your every word. If you have any concerns, pleas, orders, you need only tell us– and we shall fulfill them to the best of our abilities.

“We can be the wind beneath your sails, the tumultuous storm upon your enemies, and the gentle breeze that comforts you. Dearest one, we are The Thousand Winds. It is our greatest pleasure to welcome you once again to the lands of Teyvat.”

A breeze kicks up from the nothingness; it blows past you along with the little light. It swirls and swirls until it becomes a raging storm. You think the blue whirlwind would threaten to blow you away, but your feet are firmly planted to the ground. In fact, there is barely any force acting upon you from the tornado. It feels unreal, too unreal even for a dream. A part of you knows there is something more than your subconscious at play.

Before you can ponder upon it, the voice rings once more– “Any time you require us, only call to the god of Anemo.”

And just like that, the presence dissipates. You are left in the empty void once more.

Your mind slowly comes into awareness, feeling the ache in your bones and the strain in your muscles. It takes some time before you’re able to open your eyes fully. You’re only half conscious when you hear the creak of the door, and the sound of footsteps approaches you in steady strides. A gentle touch, something far divorced to the force on your neck previously, brushes against your fingertips.

It’s light– almost airy– in the way it moves through the grooves of your fingerprints. Inhuman, your mind whispers in your lack of awareness. The impression it leaves on your skin is kind, and that is enough to jolt you awake.

When you’re fully conscious, emerald eyes are peering into yours. They shine with the sunlight from an open window; doves coo right outside it. The figure in front of you is only processed as a bright, melodious voice resonates from them.

Your name is softly uttered in reverence, followed by a lyre’s hum. The discomfort in your body is relieved, and the pressures against your mind eases. You can say you’ve almost completely slipped into a state of serenity– mindlessness. The fight or flight instincts within you fade and is slowly placated-

Your fingers still twitch.

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x Afab!reader

PART FIVE

NSFW

Well! Five parts later and here is your bee-smut! There will be other parts to this, and part six will probably be up by later tonight, since I'm on a roll rn. tw: breasts WILL be mentioned lol

When Rena finally stopped flying, you were outside of a large structure. You’d always imagined the hive itself as a sort of large cartoon beehive, but instead found something that looked more like a gymnasium. The outside coating looked almost like a gray paper mache, no sharp edges in sight. The “building” stood four stories tall and seemed to form itself around the impossibly tall trees of the ancient wood. It stretched impossibly wide, and you couldn’t tell quite how long the building stretched on.

There were several guard bees at the entrance. You recognized one of them as a bee-men you had met at the music festival. They saw you and Rena and immediately moved aside, Rena pushing you through the door. She eventually grabbed your hand and started to guide you through what seemed like tunnels.

The ceiling shone with a faint light, much like the inside of the shed you had visited once. You weren’t able to do much. You were out of breath from your running when you eventually made it to a large room with a high ceiling. You could see about thirty bee-men, scattered around this way and that. Many of them met your eyes, looks of pity, and despair settling in the ridges between their eyebrows and noses. You kept on, until Rena brought you through another tunnel, passing room after room. Finally, it seemed you had made it to where you were supposed to be and you saw a figure slumped down in a small alcove in the wall. You’d recognize these those wings anywhere.

“Lyith!” You yelled, running to his side. You turned him over, and you were taken with a strange forbidden feeling  pulsing its way into your head. It was like a current was pushing at the dam of your mind, waiting to break. Lyiths usual, lemon-grapefruit sent had turned sour, like he was rotting. He was pulling in breath after breath, like his lungs couldn’t hold onto any of it. His limbs shook and twitched. He didn’t seem to be aware of anything going on in the room.

“He smells like decaying magic. Whats going on Rena.” You knew what she would say, but refused to believe it.”

“Lyith can’t handle his own mana right now. It's not compatible with his body anymore.” Rena’s eyes were filled with tears.

“But that only happens when you guys are starved for magic right? Haven told me! You guys have been able to get more magic from my honey, why is he…” Your face was hot and your mouth was dry.

“He was very weak before he started getting nutrients. His body didn’t build strength quick enough to adjust to the influx of energy..”

“But you guys were descended from gods right? You're like demigods! Can’t you heal him?”

“The problem isn’t his physical body, it’s his magical one. The structure around his magic is too weak. Listen, Little One, there is still something we can do. You can do.”

Leith let out a gargling buzz. It sounded almost like he was choking.

“You can use your magic. I don’t know how it works, but your mana is very compatible with ours.” She took your hands and pulled them around Lyiths, pressing down firmly.

“There are two forms of magic when it comes to us. Our own magic, and our hives. His magic can’t handle the hives so its burning itself up trying to keep up. If you use your magic and join it to his for a while, you might be able to give him enough strength to endure for a time. But if you do this wrong, and add your magic to that of the hive…”

“It’ll overwhelm him. I’d kill him.”

“He’s already dying, (y/n).” This was the first time Rena had ever called you by name.

You stared out at Lyith’s face, wincing at how he was contorting in pain. It was just like Haven had described. His magic was burning him up.

You didn’t know if this would work, but you had to try. You carefully shook yourself from Rena’s grip, placing your hands onto Lyith’s cheeks. You concentrated on the feeling of magic. Immediately, your vision went starry. You were overwhelmed with white pulsing hot magic. It overtook all of your senses. It took everything you had to mentally claw and pull yourself up enough to be, let alone see. There was so much there. You immediately recognized the feeling of Rena’s mind, then Haven’s then that of so many others who had shared their feelings with you overtimes. You could feel their astonishment. The horror, the joy, the disturbed and the hopeful. You had to pull yourself out of it. This feeling must be the magic of the hive that Rena had been talking about.

You reached your awareness out further, concentrating on Lyith, but it was so hard to find him over the rushing current of magic. You eventually found his pain first, and followed it back to a racing, burning hot feeling. You grasped onto it with all of your might. You reached around and tried to feel out where Lyith began and the rest of the hive began, but it took time. Too much time.

You eventually grasped him, using your magic to form a barrier around his consciousness and the magic that surrounded him. There was no physical realm in your eyes, just magic, and you slowly started to piece your own mana out to his, watching it trickle around him. You could see it then, the structures, the geometry that made him up, like he was a log cabin and his wooden beams were burning. 

Yes! That was it! You saw it now. 

Slowly, you pushed your magic into his structure, fortifying it, adding layers of concrete to his wood. That little pool of energy inside you became a well, and you added it to the weakest parts of the house. A wall had already collapsed so you concentrated on building that up again, using the ash that had already been burnt. The fire, the fire burning the house was trying to consume you too, it hurt, almost forcing your mind back into your body. 

“Little witch please be careful.” Lyith whispered in your ear. But you didn’t have a body, you were a well. The voice had been weak. Too weak. You needed to heal him, build him up again. You continued to work, fueled by your desperate need not to see him die. You gave your magic over to him, and suddenly he wasn’t a house anymore but a garden. LIke your garden! You could feel him completely around you. His breath was your wind, his body the soil.

But his garden was decayed. His flowers were wilted, the stalks browning. You couldn’t leave him like that. Not your Lyith.

“Slow down.” You heard him hiss, from somewhere you couldn’t quite see. A part of you was happy, he was finally awake somewhat. But you were not done yet, you needed to heal him. You took that pool of energy that was inside of yourself and got to work. It was easy, you had done this so often, building up the flowers and letting them grow. Letting them heal.

It felt good. A warm excitement filled your consciousness, urging you on. There was no pain here. Usually when you expel your magic it weakened you. But this. This felt good. Like that ease in your muscles after a good walk.

You continued to build up the garden. You could feel Lyith everywhere. He could feel his strength returning as you worked. The burning fire had turned to a warm summer heat, perfect for growing. 

“You know not what you do little one, I am well, you have to--” He let out a moan. Something within you stirred. He had told you to stop but you could feel him. Feel his mind and his truth. He didn’t want you to. He didn’t want you to stop. You pushed your mind further against him, like a cat rubbing their head against their owner. There was a building of the summer heat coursing through him, through you, and you wanted more. 

You pushed at him, mushed your magic into his garden, totally invading his senses. All you wanted him to think about was you, feel you. And he did. The more magic you channeled into him, the more the excitement built, searing hot pleasure flooding all of your senses. You weren’t sure if it was his or yours. You wanted more. You pushed against him again. You didn’t stop, all you felt was pleasure mounting. Hot needy pleasure. The garden you had made was healed now. His magic was sturdy, strong, healthy. You had done it! You had healed him, and you were together and--

The pulsating, beating heat crescendoed and you cried out, he cried out, and then all you felt and all you two were was ecstasy. 

You weren’t sure how long the two of you rode out your high. It was amazing, delicious and your body ached. Your body.. Slowly, your senses came back to you. You had a body. You could feel it now. Toes and fingers and eyes. You could see. And what you saw was Lyith under you, his beautiful eyes glazed over, drool trailing out of his mouth. His skin was hot under your fingertips. During your work you had straddled him. Your underwear was warm, wet, and you could feel a bulge pushing up against your clothed entrance. Your awareness finally pulled away from his and your mind was your own again.

Except it wasn’t wasn’t exactly yours anymore. You felt the ghost of a bond in the back of your head. A bond that trailed back to Lyith. You had done something that couldn’t be undone.

You felt Lyiths large sturdy hands squeeze your thighs. Affection and and loud, resilient devotion. You could taste it on the air, as you focused on it, it overwhelmed all your senses.

“My Queen. You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He breathed out, his voice still ragged.

Queen?

Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit.

You pulled back, pushing your body off of Lyith and against the wall of the cot. Your tired, sore body was weakening, as the realization of what you had just done crashed upon you.

“I… I only meant to heal you.”

Lyith looked at you with soft eyes, before pulling himself up to face you.

“And you did. You did it perfectly. But it worked a little too well. You shouldn’t have been able to do that. Not like this.” He reached forward and cradled your hands.

“But it happened.” He pulled your hands to cup his cheeks. He stared at you, his expression complicated. You knew if you pulled on the bond it would all be open to you, every little complicated emotion. There was a tickle in your mind. He wanted you to feel how he felt.

There was sadness, for causing you pain. Ache and relief, to finally have you, pride, to be able to call you his, and for you to call him yours. Bewilderment, that your power was such that you could ensnare him in such a way, and curiosity of how the two of you would maneuver through this. And there was an instinctual part, buzzing and excited to finally have a queen to serve, to breed-”

Okay that was probably a little too far! You pulled back enough for a bit of embarrassment to pass across his face. But he held your gaze. He had shown you all of his truth and you loved him for it. 

“Well, this has been a really wild afternoon.” Rena said, loud enough to break up your scene.

The horror of realizing Rena had just witnessed everything and probably felt it too, made you choke on the air in your throat. Your already hot face charged up to a solar flare.

She was sitting down, leaning against the wall. A feral smirk on her face, both pairs of arms crossed around her chest. One finger was slowly, meaningfully tapping against her arm.

“Well, um-- you see-- it was an accident!” You sputtered, pulling away from Lyiths grasp to the end of the bed. You didn’t look at Lyith, only tried to explain the words of what happened but not finding them.

Rena suddenly stood up, her stance strong as she purposefully stalked towards your end of the bed. Her gaze was burning, a hungry smile on her face as she leaned down, and tilted your chin up with a black finger.

“Little One, only Queens can bond to a Bee-men like that. For a Human, we would have to spend weeks prepping you before you could even manage to attempt what you have done.”

She moved forward, putting both of her knees outside of yours, leaning over you with a fire in her eyes.

“I knew there was something different about you. I want to know what, and I want you to do that again.” Her bottom set of arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her other hand gripped your shoulder.

Your heart was roaring now, and you looked to Lyith for help. He was watching with amusement, leaning back against the headboard wall of the cot. There wasn’t an ounce of jealousy in his features or his mind.  Whatever was going on, he was definitely down for it. 

You swallowed thickly.

“C-can’t we t-take a moment to think this over?” 

She ignored you, her gaze straying to your lips. The hands at your waist started to roam, gently moving up and down, one wandered to the hem of your shirt, the other cupping the curve of your ass and rubbing through the fabric.

You tried not to let your arousal show, starting to tremble under her ministrations, as she watched you with her triumphant, molten gaze.

“Lyith may have been yours first, but I won’t let him have you to himself.” She leaned forward and gently bit down on the curve of your ear. Your breath hitched and you had to keep yourself from mewling.

 “I’m yours too, you know?” She said this part gently, an earnestness made its way into your mind. It felt like how she smelled and you leaned into it. 

If you were truly a Queen now, there was no going back. Things had changed since you had bonded with Lyith. Rena was someone you treasured too. She was arrogant and sweet, and she had always been kind in the ways that mattered.

Well. What was one more anyway? You thought, closing your eyes and leaning your body into Rena’s. She let out a triumphant trill, Then slowly started dragging her impossibly long textured tongue up your neck. 

“I’m going to show you how we normally prepare a human queen.” She purred. Her arms moved to pull up your shirt as you felt the cot move under you. Lyith had moved from his spot from the end of the bed, and had situated himself behind you, his own arms curling around your hips, playing with the edges of your pants.

“While this looks very fun, I’m not the type to just sit and watch.” He sang out in a low voice. Rena huffed and rolled her eyes. But she continued to undress you, long fingers hitching around your bra and freeing your breasts. She leaned back and looked at them, purring the whole time.

Well. It looked like you were in for a long night.

Part Six (Beware NSFW)

[kamimarroco]

A story where Ren suddenly starts chatting with you because he apparently cares about you staying up late at night. Not reviewed, may undergo corrections in the future.

Words: 1100+

“are you still awake?”

The vibration of your phone and the appearance of a notification startled you, almost making you drop the device. You looked closely at the top left corner of the screen and saw the time.

It is currently 2:35 in the morning.

People at this time are usually sleeping, and those who aren't are probably sorting out work issues or are insomniacs.

You didn't fit into either of them, since your irregularity was due to the fact that you were too stubborn.

A shame, really.

You didn't stand on ceremony and immediately clicked on the notification, being taken to the chat with an unknown person.

Well, not really an unknown person... Looking more carefully, your sleepy mind managed to rationalize and recognize who you were talking to.

Oh, it's Ren.

“yea but dw, i'll go to sleep soon”

You immediately saw him start writing after receiving your message.

“are you sure? that doesn't sound honest to me. you've been online a lot lately”

How long exactly has he been watching you to say that? Sure, it's possible to see when your profile is online because of the app's settings, but it makes you wonder if he's been watching you all this time.

“have you been watching me online?”, you ask without hesitation.

You feel him give a slight chuckle from the other side of the screen.

“haha maybe. but don't get me wrong, you really do spend a lot of time awake at night, and that makes me a lil worried”

You're torn between finding his statement strange or acknowledging your not-so-healthy habit. It's true, you're weird, anyone would find it at least slightly worrying that you spend so much time online in the early hours of the morning.

“and what about you? you are also online right now at this very moment”, you retort back, anxiety consuming you as you wait for his response.

He would be considered a hypocrite for finding your habit troubling if he does the exact same thing.

“i have a very valid reason for that. my routine makes me stay awake at night and sleep in the morning or afternoon”

Now you feel an arrow hitting right in the middle of your heart. Sure, of course he would have a good reason to be awake at this hour.

You are the only odd one out in this situation.

“i'm sorry about that, i felt defensive about my habit being called out”, you apologized, worried that your words had come across as rude to him.

“that's alright. it's 2:42 am, no hard feelings”

You felt relieved that he didn't resent your words, despite knowing that they did not convey the same intonation as in real life.

you're thinking too much (or too little), your emotions are starting to eat you up.

“but i still think you should sleep”, he sent a second message.

You felt like a child being scolded by your father, being called out for your unhealthy behavior. You felt your cheeks flush and shame enter your system.

“i already told you, i'll sleep soon”, even if he doesn't notice, you felt like a sullen child trying to explain yourself.

“wheeen?”

“by the holy of god Ren, i'm not some kind of child”, you felt the need to say his nickname (name?) for the first time, trying to emphasize your slight irritation.

This time it took him a while to answer you, seeming to process the fact that you called him by his name. You felt judged in some way for this, thinking that maybe you weren't close enough to call him that.

when did you get so soft? is it sleep that's making you think too much?

Just as you were about to text him an apology, he interrupted you.

“i know that, i just worry about you”, his message warmed your heart in a way you couldn't imagine.

That's… sweet of him. Worrying about you even though you two are just strangers on the internet who bump into each other every now and then.

Are you falling in love?

“i appreciate ur concern, but i know what i'm doing”

No, you don't.

He sent you a picture of a fox with one eyebrow raised, appearing to doubt your certainty.

That brought out a genuine laugh you didn't know you were holding back.

you're leaving yourself vulnerable around him.

“aaaw what a cutie fox!! <3”, you said, referring to the image received.

“it really is! do you like foxes?”

“yea i like them! they are cute and fluffy and i honestly feel like hugging them”

For a while, Ren seemed to forget the fact that you were awake and kept talking to you about random, unrelated topics. Neither of them really had any connection with the other, but one thing led to another.

You noticed how easy it is to talk to him. He has a fluid oratory and is always making associations with other things he knows.

You found yourself incredibly interested and captivated in the conversation you suddenly began having with this stranger.

is this a red flag? shouldn't you be more concerned about a sudden approach?

When you looked at the time on your phone, you realized it was already 3:56 am, almost four in the morning.

Jesus, did you really spend that much time talking to him?

Feeling the tiredness consume you completely, you (finally) felt it was time to let your body have some much-needed rest.

“hey i know we're still talking, but it's almost four in the morning…”, you began delicately, not wanting to give him the wrong idea that you didn't want to talk anymore.

why are you so concerned about what he thinks, in the first place?

“i don't want to let our conversation end here, so i thought we could continue it another time”

Nonono, stop this, you're falling into his trap

“i'm sorry about this, my body is really screaming for sleep”

You idiot.

Ren analyzed your messages a bit before giving a proper response.

“awe that's alright! i really wanted u to sleep in the first place, and i feel kind of guilty that i did a bad job xd”

“keeping u awake and everything”

You felt guilty for him feeling guilty because it wasn't his fault in the first place! You were the idiot who decided to stay up at night, so the damage was already done.

“nonono u didn't! i was the dumb one for staying awake until now”

“i really enjoyed our conversation tbh”

You sent it and already felt your eyelashes getting heavy.

“hehe me too! i look forward to our next conversations”

“but now u really need to sleep, so pls don't stay up too long <3”

Silly little guy. He really gets you, doesn't he?

You felt happy that you had at least met someone during your time awake at night.

[formulapookie]

❛ i need you. please. i'll be quick. ❜ with beznaia :)

The scent of Bez can probably be perceived by the whole paddock with how strong it is.

It shouldn't tho, not with the scent suppressants he's taking, not when his heat is always on time and has to arrive two weeks from now.

And Bez knows, or at least, he gets it, with the way mechanics, fans or other riders stare at him while he walks.

Fuck fuck fuck it's early. He's sweating and it doesn't help his situation in the slightest.

He's hot, he needs this to fucking calm down or he won't be able to race.

The one time it happened out of schedule he was at the Ranch, and he didn't manage to train because it was so shocking he didn't come out the bed until one his boyfriend of the time had arrived and helped him out.

He broke up recently with his ex, he doesn't have anyone to help him and fuck no he's not asking a random mechanic for help with this.

"Shit why now it was supposed to come later come on"

He's in his motorhome, he needs help, he knows he does, but who can he ask to?

Not Diggia for sure, he's got that strange this with Enea going on, and he thinks he's seen a bite on the ducati rider recently.

A mechanic is out of discussion.

Vale? No absolutely not, he remembers all too well when he got in heat near him and Marc was there, that man had practically dragged Vale away and looked at him like a psycho for days.

Much too jealous.

Cele is racing currently, Mig is and Franky are busy with something and Luca is - he doesn't really wanna know where Luca and Alex are.

So. That leaves one guy only to his desperate need.

Pecco.

Which wouldn't even be a bad idea, it would be a great on even, but the problem is he's got a crush on him that's been lasting forever.

Can he control himself around Pecco when he's in heat? Maybe. Maybe not. But he's the only solution.

God knows how much strenght it takes to him to get up from the floor and sneak out, his scent must be going off the rails fuck's sake.

He uses a secondary exit from the garage and manages to sneak in Pecco's motorhome, he's hot, too hot, he needs Pecco. And he needs him ow.

"Pecco?"

Pecco is sat on the couch, head in his hands, breathing in and out.

"Bez you don't want to stay here" "Pecco please I need help" "Is there- no one in your garage?"

Pecco is trying so hard not to grab Bez by the shirt and rail him on the couch, he smells so sweet and inviting, it's almost sickening how good it is.

"No. The others are all busy, and after last time I'm not going with a mechanic"

Pecco looks up, it's a mistake, Bez is flushed and hot, and he's looking at him with a bit too much need.

"Bez I - this can - God this can end badly"

Bez's brain doesn't fuction well anymore, he needs to fuck, and Pecco is - well he's not a beta like Mig or Franky, and despite smelling less strongly than Vale he's an amazing alpha.

"Please" "Bez" "I need you. Please. I'll be quick" "Marco I don't think I'm the best option"

He doesn't know how he's still in control of himself, his best friend, and way too long time crush smells so good he could beat any of the other omegas out there.

He's had desperate omegas throwing themselves at him, he's even fucked a few of them, but Bez? Bez is another story, what if he gets too intoxicated by the scent an does something he regrets? What if he gets too rough?

Bez reduces the distance between them two, and sits beside a clearly scent-affected Pecco, who's practically trying to hold his breath in not to smell him.

"Come on Pecco don't you want to help a friend in need?" "Jesus Christ Marco you can't say things like that" "Why? Don't you want to be a good friend?"

The scent truly feels intoxicating, Bez is practically radiating lust, he's looking at Pecco with too much need and the other can only resist so much before giving up.

"Marco seriously, we both crashed in the sprint it's not a good situation, aren't Mig or Fr-" "Aren't you the Alpha, Pecco? Are you not good enough? You think you can't do enough?"

Then it's a mess. A rough kiss with too much hunger and too many teeth, but they both feel so taken by it they wonder how it never happened before.

"Fuck please"

Pecco has never been quicker in undressing someone, and gets rid of Bez's jeans in two split seconds, and just as quickly he's got a hand in his underwear, teasing and feeling just how wet Bez already is, but not acting on Bez's need.

"Fuck you're so wet Marco, you get like this every time? Might help you more often" "I ah yeah, now do something or I swear if you don't fuck me" "What will you do? Huh? You came begging to my door Marco, because no one out there can fuck you like you want me to do right?"

And - yeah that's true, for how harsh it can be it's the truth.

"Then you better prove you were worthy"

Sliding two fingers inside Bez's cunt may just be the most satisfying thing of Pecco's weekend, especially with the little whimpers he makes, and how his hands start to travel underneath his shirt trying to get it off.

"Desperate"

Bez moans, he needs Pecco to fuck him now or he might go mad, seriously, he needs to have him inside.

"Alpha"

Every single cell of Pecco's body is activated, a primordial need basically taking over his brain and ability to understand where they are.

He slides a third finger in, but judging by the amount of wetness in Bez's briefs it won't be a long wait before actually fucking him.

And it's not a lot of work in effect, Bez is practically drenching the boxers, and Pecco's fingers can only do so much, even with the intensity and speed he's putting in it.

When he takes off his own jeans his bulge is really noticeable, his scent is - Bez gets lightheaded from it, and the lust in his eyes makes the younger want to give him kids.

Bez climbs on his lap, his neck exposed just the right amount for a bite, but Pecco restrains himself.

When Bez gets both their boxers completely off he wastes no time in stroking Pecco's dick once or twice and then slowly sinking down on it, letting out the prettiest moans Pecco ever heard.

They kiss once again, less messy but equally as lustful, and Bez starts riding him slowly, moaning in the kiss.

“Don’t tease Bez, you wanted it so bad then fucking earn it”

“Oh the champion can’t handle a bit of teasing? How sad, and I thought you were the best out here”

“Shut up”

“Truth’s harsh Pecco?”

“If you don’t shut up i’ll make sure you can’t even get on the bike tomorrow because of how sore you’ll be”

And it does something to Bez, shakes him inside, makes him want to see how far Pecco can actually go.

He’s on birth control anyway, even if - even if Pecco came inside him, he’d be safe.

And God does he want it.

“Bez you smell so good”

Pecco buries his face into the crook of Bez’s neck, inhaling the scent and fucking yo his brain more than it already was.

He moves so he can lay Bez down on the couch, and starts thrusting with a rapid pace, little ah ahs being the only words Bez can get out his system.

He’s fucked omegas before, more than once, but fuck, they were never like Bez.

So open, ready to give themselves up like he is doing, soft and burning hot beneath his hands, so submissive to his every touch or whisper. And they weren’t so fucking wet.

“Pecco please fuck more”

He picks up the pace and kisses his friend again, tongues twisting inside each others mouths in a tango of many unsaid things.

“Fuck. Bez fuck I want to mate you”

He stills, fuck he said it. Shit shit shit it wasn’t supposed to happen he should’ve kept himself in check.

That’s fucking why he didn’t want Bez to spend his heat with him. The risks were too high, he’s too uncaring when he’s having sex.

“Please say it again”

There’s a moment of utter shock in Pecco’s eyes, he’s not sure he’s heard correctly.

“Pecco please say that again”

He gulps, he’s still buried deep inside Bez, his mouth is so dangerously close to the neck. All too much but all so right at the same time.

“I want to mate you”

“Fuck!”

It’s like a shock wire touched his skin, the way Bez clenches around him and grabs his biceps to hold himself from flying away.

“Please do. Pecco please I beg of you please mate me. I need it to be you I - I need it since were fucking 17 and you had your first big rut and I just wanted you to have me”

He’s frozen, he wants to but what if things go bad? What if it goes like Marc and Vale? He can’t leave Bez like that.

“Get out of your head Pecco I hear your thoughts. You want it? Do it. Get your mark on me and fuck me with it on my neck”

“Bez you need to be sure, we’re- it’s not a simple situation and this is serious”

“I told you Pecco, been sure since we were 17, you smelled so good even back then, always thought you smelled better than the others, better than Vale even”

It’s a fire that ignites inside of Pecco’s stomach, travels to his dick, to his brain, crackling like fresh wood burning in the open.

Bez gets closer to his ear, gets one of his hands on his back, and digs his nails in a bit.

“Mate me. Alpha please”

And God it’s pathetic but it’s all he wants right now, he wants Pecco to claim him and ruin him for any other guy who may think they’ve got a chance with him, wants that asshole of a Pramac rider to never look at Pecco like that again, understand he’s ever gonna be his, not like Bez is.

It’s a whole three seconds of internal debate for Pecco before he gets his mouth on Nez’s neck and opens it, the. lowers himself and bites.

The hand on his back digs more inside, the broken whimper coming from Marco is basically a melody, he wants to hear it again.

“You’re so sweet, smell and taste all so fucking sweet amore”

He leaves other kisses and bites all over his collarbone, moans getting louder and louder form both parts.

He picks the pace up again immediately, thrusting into Bez with force, holding him down by the hips and just going.

“You’re big fuck Pecco, so big and so good, I need you to fill me up, need to feel you everywhere”

“Mh you like it? Yeah fuck I’ll fill you up so much, fucking get you pregnant. I want to breed you so bad”

Bez lets out a louder moan, it’s almost a cry, he wants it too.

Pecco hasn’t stopped thrusting inside him, actually he picked up the pace once more, it’d be uncomfortable if any of the two could properly think.

“Mine. Mine mine mine you’re mine Marco, I will mark you everywhere on the neck so no one comes close thinking they can have you. Do you have any idea how many guys there want to have you as their omega? Mh? You just go around smelling so good, everyone wants a piece”

“Then make me smell like you. I want your scent on me for days Pecco, you’re mine too, I don’t ever want to see Martin looking at you again, he can’t, and also - fuck also your friend he better take his fucking eyes off you”

Pecco grunts, he’s close, but Bez’s is closer, he’s on edge, so close anything can tip him off.

Another bite coming from Pecco is what does it, makes him come and shudder, a long dragged whine to accompany it.

He clenches around Pecco, who can deem himself strong as much as he wants, but when Bez clenches like that, so wet and hot and his, it’s not something he can resist.

He comes deep inside, still thrusting, as Bez lets go of his back, just helpless little moans in the background mixing with the loud sound of bikes and machines in the garage.

They kiss again, their scents mixing, the motorhome must smell like sex and them, like love.

“Mine”

Pecco says it again before collapsing on top of Bez, he was an exhausting omega to take care of, and to think it’s only the first day of heat.

“Pecco shower, shower then we have to go to the hotel”

“No. We stay here they won’t notice”

“Yes they will, you’re the Champion amore forgot it?

“I want to stay here with you”

“Yeah I know I know but we need to go”

They shower, make out in the meanwhile, Bez still tastes so sweet it’s incredible.

When they get out Bez actually looks at the mark.

It’s beautiful, perfect.

“What’s going on?”

“You had to do it so high? Pecco this is not gonna be hidden by shirts”

Pecco smiles, leaving a kiss on the back of his neck, then running his fingers over the fresh mark.

“Yeah it was my intention”

“Oh fucking possessive bastard”

“Mig stares, too much. And Franky does too, when you went in heat last time and your stupid ex wasn’t there he immediately offered to help you. Also Cele, he stares at you every chance he gets he looks at you, now they’ll know you’re mine”

They get dressed rapidly, luckliky Pecco’s clothes fit him, and he can get out the garage without seeming like too much.

Of course the day after all the journalists will ask about his new bite, and he’ll smile and just say that he’s been mated, not by who.

But he hopes he’ll still smell like Pecco so they’ll know anyway.

That he is his.

[britneyshakespeare]

i have been working with kids for four years and i had to write my first ever note just now about a seventh grade boy being inappropriate towards me. i don't know what the hell this could possibly lead to or what. he was trying to feel my legs repeatedly to the point where i had to stop sitting next to him (and i was subbing for his one-to-one para!!!). he's got high support needs. in that kind of job, you're supposed to sit next to them all day and look over their work.

the teacher whose classroom this was happening in could also tell something was wrong. the whole class was acting kinda crazy because it was the day before school vacation week and there was another class coming in to share projects. so like, he was swamped with keeping order already. but we were sitting two feet away from his podium at the front of the room. the kid was giving him and me a hard time when he wouldn't take out his chromebook as he was instructed. and then when he did take out his chromebook, he immediately, for some reason, places it on my lap. he had been ogling my legs the whole time. he puts his computer ON MY LAP. and i'm just like, stunned, because what the hell? can you not keep it on your own lap, for some reason? i don't even know what to say, i just hold it a little above my lap while i'm thinking why on earth would this be happening? he would NOT do this to his regular para if she were here, would he? this can't be normal.

and the teacher sees this and within a minute places a stool in front of the kid for him to put his laptop on. and i'm like. oh ok. yeah. he notices exactly what's happening and that that's not appropriate. and then when the other class comes in to share projects he tells me "miss b——, you don't actually have to sit next to c—— this whole period if you don't want to." and he grabs me a chair for me to go sit with the other paras in the back opposite corner of the room. like he KNEW. and thank you mr. d—— for recognizing that because i was just kind of shocked and didn't know if i was overreacting in my head to all of this.

when there's a point in the class where the kids are discussing stuff, i privately mention what's happened to the para who's sitting closest to me. and she says that the thing about him calling me pretty is something he's been known to do, but the fact that he kept trying to touch my legs is new behavior. and that's a completely different class of behavior. i was telling him NO, don't do that, and he kept doing it. and the fact that he was calling me pretty repeatedly, even when i was giving him instructions that he wasn't taking. and this is the second to last class before the end of the day, so she says she'll take a walk with him before learning center and talk to him about it, and i'm grateful for that. she does. the kid apologizes to me as soon as i come into learning center. but like. WHAT the hell.

i'm STILL like what the hell. this is unfathomable to me. the other adults who i told about this or who witnessed it were supportive of me. but. what to do??? i wrote a long note to his regular para about this, because i knew she was going to hear about it at least from the first para i told. the second para i told about it after school had a kind of... i'm not gonna say enabling reaction, but i suppose since it had already been "taken care of" (or at least, he had been spoken to and apologized) she didn't really have much to add in the way of discipline. i told her what happened after school and she was just like... a little bit, laughing? like oh, yup, that dog. she at the very least confirmed he KNEW what he was doing, that that was not an accident. she said to me "i had a feeling he was going to develop a crush on you" (me and these other paras were together for most of the beginning of the day too). but it's like. it's not about that.

i have worked with children for FOUR years. children have had crushes on me before; i'm quite unfazed by it. boys from the ages of 5-to-15 have told me i'm so pretty before and asked me to marry them. i've never had them feeling up my legs before. i've never had them making me physically uncomfortable. it's NOT about this seventh grader having a crush on the pretty substitute. he is NOT unusual for that, at all. but i've never had a boy of any age or education level repeatedly touching my knees and thighs. THAT is problem behavior!!!

because what if i wasn't assertive enough with him to tell him to stop? what if i was a girl his age? worse, what if i was an adult who encouraged this behavior? i don't come to the middle school to be a seductress. i had no intention in putting on a pair of tights and a skirt this morning of being viewed as an attractive object, especially not by a pubescent boy. what if i did though? what if his interpretation of me wasn't so incorrect and offensive? what if i let him keep touching me inappropriately and saying flirtatious things to me? me, an adult in my mid-twenties, towards a middle school boy?

in no world would that be ok. if i had been feeling up and overly-complimenting a CHILD at my place of work, holy shit would there be reports about me. so a child acting that way could never be ok either. if it'd be firable for me to be reciprocating that action, then that action should not be happening to me. ever. and that child should never repeat that action again to any other adult again.

like i am simply not there to be treated as an attractive young woman. i put on a skirt that shows too much knee and get paired with a boy, though, and that's apparently just a natural consequence. hooo-ly shit. like i don't know what to do. first of all, the more time passes since this has happened, the more i am just unable to stop thinking about it. i wasn't "hurt" or too emotional in the moment but i'm just still processing it and it gets worse. i'm just more and more disgusted.

i don't know what i expect to come out of this, or the email i sent to his regular para. like, am i gonna have to attend a fucking meeting? what is the precedent that this sets for him? WHY do i feel BAD for him about this? well, because he's a child, of course. a child who has done wrong he may not be able to understand. but he knows WHAT he did. he just doesn't know WHY it was wrong.

and i couldn't even say something to him that was like, "well, how would you like it if i was touching you like this?" because young boys do not understand how inappropriate it'd be. i'm sure this kid thought he was gonna get away with what he was doing at the very least. but probably not unlikely he (being a child with no concept of how wrong it'd be) thought he could get some sort of "positive" attention for treating me like this. either way he was simply doing what he wanted to do, with no perspective of how it would make me feel or that it could be classified as harassment. teenage boys think it'd be awesome if the older attractive woman would reciprocate their affections. they're wrong. i, as the older attractive woman of his affection, cannot be the one to convince him of that, though.

i don't know. i don't know. like it's just so not ok. but if i didn't tell another adult about this, he would've gotten away with it. he would probably do it again. and him being in trouble for it is not the same as him understanding that it was wrong. unless someone has a REAL talk with him about inappropriate attention and consent, it's not unlikely that he'll just repeat the behavior in a setting where he thinks he won't be caught or told on. THAT'S the problem. me, i could just never have to be this boy's para again. in my email, i didn't say that i would never be ok working with or around him ever again. he already knows i didn't like it and i'm not afraid to tell on him; as far as that lesson applies to me, individually, i think he's become too ashamed to repeat that.

i don't know. i don't know. i very much expressed that i, i guess, "forgave" him in the email that i wrote. i clarified that i was writing it for the sake of having it on the record. i think that could potentially be very important for the purposes of preventing further similar or escalating behavior from him in the future. i don't want him to be in trouble. i don't think i will be blamed for this, especially not with how promptly i acted, although i don't know to what extent this will be framed as me thinking i'm a "victim." i'm not... i don't feel victimized. i feel disgusted. i feel afraid for the sake of what could happen to or with him in the future, if he thinks behavior like his towards me today is ok.

i feel like if i end up having to further respond to this, this will be made about me. in a way it kind of was. is? in the moment it was happening, it was certainly about me. because i was the one this boy was giving all this unwanted attention to. but to make the consequences of this about me and to involve me any further, i also don't want. because i said what i said already, i don't care if a student has a crush on me. this isn't about me being the pretty substitute. i'm the pretty substitute all the time, to tons of people. that's not really something i've been concerned about up until now.

but do i have to reexplain my personal embarrassment? that i was wearing a skirt? that he was ogling my legs? really? what more do i have to gain from sharing that, other than having the adults at my place of work confirm or deny me in their heads as the pretty substitute? i don't know. perhaps that's REALLY overthinking it. but i don't want to be the substitute that caused a problem for this special ed kid. i don't wanna be the reason that he can't be around me anymore, the person people think of when they're monitoring how he's acting around girls and young women. i DON'T want to be the one people think of when they think of his past misbehavior. i'm NOT here for that.

that's just fucking humiliating. and in this being a thing that could follow him, i have to be ogled and touched over and over again in people's minds for this to be taken seriously. but for this to be swept under the rug would be even worse, no? i don't know. i hate this. the principal is a nice guy; i wouldn't be surprised if he and/or people from the special ed department reached out to me sympathetically about this. but i don't wanna be reached out to. i don't wanna have ppl i work with tell me "sorry that kid was just so attracted to you he couldn't help himself" like come on. if the kid himself doesn't change then i don't really care to remember this incident. and no one reaching out to me and saying they've talked to this kid will actually prove to me he understands. this is the kind of inappropriate behavior it takes years for people to understand why it was wrong, especially a child who has no idea. i mean come on.

[milo-is-rambling]

Who was gonna tell me that reading is fun sometimes

[alittleemo]

goodnight little gay people ! stay cool or whatever