#a little bit of cannibalism as a metaphor for love
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red-garden · 28 days ago
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Jiggy is so eldest daughter coded and he would have a catholic guilt aesthetics board on pinterest.
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maruyaaya · 27 days ago
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i am physically incapable of writing fics where the main couple isn’t horrifically codependent
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moonstandardtime · 9 months ago
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fun fact about this bit from tiac. "his detached tongue in your mouth" is supposed to be like kissing with tongue. because i cant deny that sweet sweet toxic selfcest yaoi
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lanthimoschic · 11 months ago
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s4pphoiduser · 2 years ago
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cannibalism as a metaphor for endless, all-consuming love. i wouldn't know how to be without you. i fear i might eat you whole just to keep you with me. i don't ever want to be without you. i wish i could open you up and live in the bloody chest cavity forever. we could be together forever. i love you and i want you to eat well.
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aayakashii · 5 months ago
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After a long time, I offer you the sequel to this fic here 🤲
Warnings: *BANGING POTS AND PANS* KUUYA IS A SUBMISSIVE PATHETIC LOSER YANDERE IF YOU DON'T LIKE MALE SUBS YOU MIGHT NOT LIKE THIS!!!! Also: NSFW and yandere themes from Kuuya and the reader; reader is gender neutral and AFAB; 9k words 💀
Kuuya is a @devotion-disorder OC and they gave me permission to write more abt their sad and wet cat <3 I hope you like it!!! The art below is theirs as well!
♡ cannibalism as a metaphor for love ♡
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The clock ticked a little bit past 6PM. You frowned as you watched the last rays of sun fade away in the sky, thinking about your house – how you could be wearing your comfortable pajamas, making some greasy popcorn while you watched a bad horror movie.
Instead, all that you had was that non-ergonomic chair, a coffee that had already gone cold and bitter and the glaring blue light of your computer burning your retinas.
You were working overtime.
It’s not a new concept for you per se, not in a black corporation such as the one you worked for. It’s just that on that specific day, it felt like everyone had left the building but you. Every cubicle was empty and the room was incredibly dim – it was anxiety inducing. You turned on as many lights as you could and put some background music to feel less isolated, but the setting simply didn’t help. You were locked in that little dystopian bubble all on your own and no amount of piled up work could make you concentrate properly when it felt like you were in purgatory.
Outside, a loud thunder made the window panes vibrate and you sighed.
“Fuck this” you murmured, getting up. You’d at least make some more coffee. Would you feel even more anxious? Yes. But you needed something to distract yourself with and brewing a new, actually sweetened pot of coffee would have to do.
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You briskly walked towards the break room, trying to avoid thinking about the oppressing darkness that surrounded you, staring at your feet. However, you soon slowed down – the door to the office kitchen was closed, and you could see the light was on from the crack under the door. 
Common sense would allow you to come to the conclusion that probably someone else was in the building with you, after all. 
But in that moment, all that blared in your mind were the sirens of dread. Your mind went from thinking that a serial killer was hiding in the pantry to imagining a deadly monster coming to whisk you away before you ever thought about some other colleague being in the building with you.
You crossed your fingers hoping it was just the (possibly hot) monster from another dimension coming to kidnap you and slowly opened the door, ready to run if needed.
Instead, you were met with the curved back and the mop of messy lilac hair of someone you knew oh too well.
“Kuuya?” you called, quietly.
“AH!” he flinched, crinkling the plastic cup he had in his hand and spinning around to look at you. The water he was pouring in his cup splashed on his button up shirt and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.
You raised your hands up, like you would do to a feral animal to show you mean no harm.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to spook you. I didn’t know there was someone else here. I thought I was alone.” you said, entering the room and feeling a little bit relieved to see another sign of life in that somber building.
Even if it was from your cute and creepy little stalker.
Kuuya hurriedly grabbed a napkin and began dabbing at his shirt, nodding silently and avoiding your eyes.
You sighed loudly as you began rummaging the kitchen’s cabinets for all the supplies you needed.
As much as you allowed yourself to indulge in your sick fantasies when it came to him, most of the time Kuuya just frustrated you. You wondered if he would ever try to talk to you. Hell, would he ever even look at you in your eyes for more than a second? It was maddening.
You knew he was far from innocent, no matter how reserved he acted around you. Didn't he literally follow you to your home just to jerk off in the bushes by your window? Where is all that courage when you're right next to him?
You wouldn't mind actually taking the initiative, but most of the time you honestly felt like you were crazy. Maybe you were so horny for that sad wet cat that you were hallucinating. 
Maybe he never went to your house and it was just the wishful thinking of your deeply, deeply perverted mind.
Maybe he actually wanted to run away from you whenever you were around, but you were just too insane so you kept imagining him fisting his cock just because you breathed near him.
Although they do say that insane people never think they're insane.
God! If only he gave you A DIRECT SIGN! A green light! Something that would let you know you can take charge!
No matter how adorable his bashfulness was, he still made you feel like you were kicking a baby animal whenever you addressed him directly. And honestly, that didn't really help his case.
“Are you… okay?” his quiet voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you noticed how you were crouching and staring at a dead empty cabinet for way longer than necessary. You closed the door and got up quickly, clearing your throat.
“We’re out of coffee.” you said, pulling your phone out of your pocket. “I'm gonna order something to eat. Is there anything you want?”
Kuuya was one step away from being malnourished, you noticed. You wouldn't mind putting some food inside that scrawny body.
“Um… No, it’s not necessary… I don’t really have… um… money…”
You waved your hand dismissively as you scrolled through a delivery app.
“That doesn’t matter. I’m paying.”
Kuuya shook his head frantically while waving his hands.
“N-no, I can’t accept that!”
You side-eyed him and he visibly flinched under your glare.
“Even if you don’t tell me what you want to eat, I’m gonna order something for us. We are quite literally stranded here, I’m not going to let you go hungry.” you shrugged.
He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. God, he was so cute. Why did he act like you would straight up kill him if he said something wrong, though? Were you that intimidating? Well, not intimidating enough to keep him from masturbating right by your bedroom and stealing your stuff, apparently.
“Also” you continued “It’s going to rain soon, apparently. I don't want to make some delivery guy go out in the rain to deliver us food once we’re actually hungry, so I'll just do it now.”
Kuuya opened and closed his mouth, as if he wanted to say something, but nothing would come out. He looked like a little fish, you thought, as you waited for him to say something. When he didn’t after a whole minute, you just shrugged.
“Is chicken sandwich and fries okay with you?”
He nodded, hesitant yet still licking his lips unconsciously at the thought of some good actual food. You figured he was probably very hungry. In fact, you could picture it very clearly: Kuuya getting home and just eating the least nutritious instant noodles in the world, day after day. No wonder he looked so tired all the time. He was probably running low on fuel for way too long.
“Okay. So I’m gonna order those, and also some coffee and cookies. If I'm gonna stay here and be tortured by all the work I gotta do, I wanna at least have something tasty to console me.” you mumbled, more to yourself than anyone else.
And as you placed the order, you ended up missing the little lovestruck smile that quickly appeared on Kuuya’s face.
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You had gone back to your cubicle while you waited for your order. Knowing you weren't completely alone calmed your nerves and you managed to work properly for the time it took for your food to arrive.
Once you had all the bags in your hands, you walked back to the kitchen and the door was open just like you had left it. Kuuya was still there, sitting at the table, nursing a tepid cup of water.
“You didn't go back to your work station ?” you said, putting the multiple bags of food on the table, earning a startled yelp from him again. You raised an eyebrow and huffed out a laugh. “You're more skittish than I am.”
He pursed his lips into a thin line, avoiding your eyes.
“S-sorry…”
You shook your head.
“There's no reason to apologize. Here, the food arrived. Let's eat?”
He nodded, hurriedly getting up to help you set up plates and cups down, wobbling a little bit like he had to consciously think about how to walk properly.
You looked at him through the corner of your eye while he washed a few dishes. 
Kuuya always seemed like he was in distress. His shoulders looked tense like a violin string and there was always a little crease on his forehead. His eyebrows were almost always scrunched and raised up, giving him that kicked puppy look to his face that you found so endearing. It made you want to hold him in your arms and massage those little shoulders until they were soft under your fingers, and kiss those worry lines until he relaxed, even if just for a little while.
You clenched and unclenched your fingers, quickly busying yourself with putting the now clean plates on the table, otherwise you'd jump at him as soon as he looked at you with those pink doe eyes that you so deeply wished you could stare at for hours on end.
If only he wasn't so easily frightened.
Soon enough, everything was set on the table, ready for you to eat.
“Alright” you sat down and motioned vaguely towards the food “Dig in! Don’t be shy.”
Kuuya slowly sat down, eyeing the sandwiches like he had never seen food before in his life. Still, he kept his hands to himself and fidgeted on his chair.
“Is something wrong?”
“I- I feel like I should be paying for this. I promise I'll repay you once I get my next paycheck.” he mumbled, looking extremely embarrassed.
You tutted, shaking your head.
“Nonsense. You don't have to pay for anything. Now eat. It'll make me glad if you eat properly. That's how you can pay me back.”
He pouted for a moment, considering your words, then hesitantly grabbed the sandwich, giving it a nibble. His face lit up at the taste of the sandwich and his inhibitions then seemed to go down a little. He took a bigger bite, chewing happily. His chin was slightly smeared with sauce and you smiled.
So fucking cute.
As you ate, you noticed how he kept on shaking and nodding his head in order to move the long lilac bang that covered his right eye away from his mouth. After a few more moments just watching him struggle, you got up from your seat.
“Here, let me help you.” You reached inside your pockets and showed him a hair clip you always kept at hand. You reached out for his bangs, hovering your hand over his hair as if to ask for permission to put the clip on him.
He unceremoniously slapped his hands over his bangs and right eye, hard.
“N-no!” He yelled, sounding terrified.
You jumped, surprised at his uncharacteristic reaction, and raised your arms again, the second time that day.
“Okay, okay. Sorry, I won't touch it. You can put it on your hair if you'd like it, then. No pressure” you said, still offering the hair clip.
He slowly moved his hands away from his eye, shaking as he grabbed the clip from your palm. 
“O-okay…thank you and… sorry…” he mumbled, gripping the clip tightly inside his fist.
“It's no problem. Just… please pin it in a way that will keep your hair from touching your food” you grimaced “That's not really hygienic.”
He clumsily pinned his hair to his scalp, the bangs still completely covering his right eye, but somehow precariously pinned right over his ear. You gave him a nod of approval.
“I guess that's good enough.”
You two continued eating, a painfully awkward silence looming in the atmosphere, as the heavy rain that had threatened to fall all night finally pattered against the windows.
You figured you wouldn't try to break that silence, despite how uncomfortable it was. It was time for him to try and communicate with you too, and if he didnt, well. You wouldn't spread yourself thin just to receive a few nods and indiscernible  mumbles, no matter how adorable he was whenever he was flustered.
Kuuya politely thanked you for the food as he finished eating, right at the same time as you. He pushed his chair, the grating sound against the floor making the both of you flinch. He straightened himself up, as much as his hunched back would allow him to, and cleared his throat.
“I, uh. I have to go to the bathroom. I'll- I'll clean everything up, so you can leave it there. I'll be right- I'll be right back.” He stuttered, eyes flitting everywhere around the corners of the kitchen, except to you. He was tightly grabbing his elbow with his other hand, until he visibly relaxed when you nodded at his words, like he needed your permission, and scrambled out of the room.
You waited a minute or two after he left, before getting up and quickly walking towards the men's bathroom as well.
Yeah, right. Sure. Bathroom.
You might not have known Kuuya that well yet, but you knew one little thing: he was a terrible liar.
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You opened the door to the bathroom as quietly as you could, hoping it wouldn't creak and possibly rat you out. When you managed to close it behind you without a sound, you exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding.
Stepping slowly and carefully, you walked towards the bathroom stalls and stood still for a second.
Yeah. There it was.
Your mouth quirked up into a pleased smile when you heard the sound of heavy breathing coming from a stall to your left. Gasps and choked out little moans reached your ears and went straight into your core.
Kuuya was jerking off in that bathroom stall.
You licked your lips and kept moving slowly, much like a predator trying not to be seen. You slotted yourself into the stall right beside him and crouched on top of the toilet, effectively hiding your feet from him in case he looked down.
But from the sounds coming out of his stall, he was already way too cumbrained to notice anything around him.
You could hear the sounds of his hand rubbing his cock mercilessly as he groaned, probably a little louder than he should if he was trying to be subtle.
Your breathing became heavy.
You found yourself imagining his hand grabbing his shaft tightly, rubbing his thumb against the angry pink tip of his dick, smearing the beads of precum all over his length. His other hand would be lifting his shirt to pinch and pull at his nipple, eliciting those cute little gasps you kept hearing from where you were standing.
Begrudgingly, you undid your pants’ zipper and shoved your hand into your already leaking cunt.
His moans got louder, the lewd, wet sounds of him fucking his own hand going faster and you thought of how his cock would be twitching, balls heavy with cum tightening as a warning sign that he was about to come undone.
Your fingers circled your clit, eyes closed and mouth agape with a silent moan at how fucking hot he sounded and how filthy you felt for getting off to him without his consent – but it's not like he didn't do the same to you before.
A loud, shaky moan came out of him as he apparently came all over his own hand. You thought of how he would ride his own high, squeezing every last drop of his load out of his cock until the overstimulation would be too much and he'd halt his movements.
You heard him pant heavily, stopping your movements so he wouldn't hear the wet sounds of your pussy. You were so far away from your own high, but listening to his little mewls was more than worth the frustration.
Until he opened his mouth again to moan your name.
“I love you… I love you I love you I love you, fuckfuckfuck I love you so so much.. a-ah fuuuuck…” the sounds of him furiously jerking off reached your ears again and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to control your breathing.
He kept moaning and whining your name over and over again, probably leaning against the stall's wall as everything began to shake in the same rhythm of his hips.
You bit your knuckle hard, trying to avoid making any sounds while you rubbed yourself, chasing your orgasm to the glorious sound of your pathetic stalker fucking himself silly in your workplace's bathroom.
His whiny, slutty voice sounded like honey, viscous and sweet – something that you would swallow eagerly, leaving your tongue heavy with his syrupy, nauseating taste. 
You bit your knuckle harder as you felt the frustration of chasing a release that would not come, because you desperately wanted to taste him; to glide your tongue over his skin and memorize the salty flavor of his sweat and the musky scent of his body. Anything else would not work for you anymore.
You could eat him whole, truly. You needed your hands and your stomach and your pussy to be full of him. Urgently.
You stopped toying with your clit, allowing the anger of not even having a sad, unsatisfying orgasm wash over your body.
Kuuya seemed to finish much quicker this time, your name in his lips loud as he came a second time.
You looked down and bit your lip, pulling your own hair in frustration – you could see a few drops of his cum drip onto the bathroom floor, pitifully wasted.
Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to breathe deeply and closed your eyes. 
First, you needed to get out of there without him noticing so he wouldn't have a mental breakdown and run away. And then, only after that, you could think of the next steps of your plan.
You allowed yourself to rest your head against the wall, waiting for him to clean himself up and leave.
It was so weird, this desperate attraction you had for Kuuya and how afraid you were of messing everything up. You had your previous crushes before, sure. But nothing was ever as strong as the desire you had to cradle that stupid man in your arms and keep him with you, safe. 
You knew things were different once you found out he was obsessed with you and it still didn't extinguish that little fire inside of your core.
Usually, you'd lose interest in people as soon as they began expressing interest in you as well – you knew it was wrong and you had brought it up during therapy sessions, but it never really bothered you.
Until Kuuya. 
When you confirmed your suspicions (that he was insanely obsessed and even went as far as stalking you) you felt a strange excitement bubble in your stomach – like you had achieved something.
It made you shiver in anticipation for those little moments in which your eyes would meet his and he'd blush furiously, or when you'd purposely brush your hand against his only to watch how he twitched and rubbed his thighs together.
You were addicted to him. You wanted him even more after finding out about his feelings, and that was new to you. That was something you weren't willing to let go.
And with that, came the fear that Kuuya might be just like you. What if he was an emotionally constipated mess like yourself? What if he lost all interest as soon as you gave him an opening? Just because he was different for you, didn't mean you'd be special to him, in the off case he had the same bad habits.
That was why you were so cautious, so slow in your movements. You didn't want him to run. You didn't want to lose the feeling of being reciprocated. You'd protect it the same way you'd protect a tiny flame against the whip of a merciless wind.
But after hearing him moan your name like a needy whore, you didn't think you could hold it in anymore.
Kuuya had already left for a good 5 minutes while you were lost in your thoughts.
You quickly cleaned yourself and walked towards the sinks to wash your hands. You looked at yourself in the mirror of the men's bathroom. Sweat stuck to your forehead and your face looked flush. You were out of breath and your heart beat fast and loud inside your ribcage.
You turned on the sink, splashing cold water against your face and, after you dried up, you stared at your reflection again.
Well. So Kuuya had loudly moaned your name as he fucked his own fist. And you had masturbated to the sounds of his gasps and mumbles of your name.
No matter how paranoid you were – you were very much sure you weren't fucking hallucinating any of that.
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“Walk me home?” you went to his desk after you finished the last of the details in your reports, fully intent on taking him with you to your home.
‘It’s now or never’, you thought to yourself.
“S-sorry?” he sputtered.
“Walk me home?" you repeated "The rain stopped, but it's kinda late. I don't want to walk alone. It's too dark.” 
He seemed to consider your request for way too long. Anxiety began bubbling in the pit of your stomach, and, for a moment, you thought it'd be better to just pretend you never asked anything, until he answered you.
“Okay… I can go with you.” he murmured, getting up and grabbing his shoulder bag.
You let out a breath of relief you didn't know you were holding, and smiled.
“Thank you, Kuuya!”
You didn't miss how he bit his lips and shivered at your words.
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The walk home was uneventful, as you expected. Kuuya walked by your side and insisted on staying on the road's side of the sidewalk. You praised him for being a gentleman and he became a blushing and stuttering mess, but besides that, he was quiet. 
You arrived at your door and Kuuya hovered right beside you, watching you fumble with your keys.
You weren't very good at hiding your anxiety after all.
Once the door opened, you stepped inside and held it for him.
“Come inside for a moment.�� you murmured after clearing your throat.
You watched his throat bob up and down when he swallowed hard. He probably had many questions and, honestly, you couldn't blame him. You had no reason to invite him to your house.
At least not obvious reasons, that is.
He did as you told after a few seconds of hesitation, although he had confusion written all over his face.
“Why… why did you invite me in?” he finally asked while he watched you shrug off your coat and kick off your boots. You motioned for him to take off his shoes as well and leave them beside yours.
“Just something I gotta do.” you answered, observing him clumsily undo the knots on his shoes.
He cocked his head to the side, looking up at you.
“What?”
Once he was finished putting his shoes right beside yours, you beckoned him with your finger, and began walking deeper inside your house and towards your room, hoping he would follow.
He did, dumb shock plastered on his face, but still compliant.
You opened the door and motioned for him to enter. As soon as he was inside, you slammed the door behind you and locked it.
Kuuya's eyes were wide as he quickly turned to look at you. He seemed terrified, the poor thing, but this time you wouldn't back down. You couldn't.
“Shhh, it's okay. No need to be so scared” you shushed him as he opened his mouth, walking slowly towards him. You placed your hand on his chest and pushed him towards your bed.
When he plopped unceremoniously on the mattress, you looked at his pants.
He was already hard.
You smirked.
“Do you know why I brought you here?” you asked in a murmur while you leaned towards his trembling figure, wiping a few stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb and holding your weight over him with your other arm.
“N-no…?”
You cocked your head, actually surprised at his answer.
“Really? Are you really that clueless?” you traced his jaw with your finger, and he squirmed underneath you, rubbing his thighs together to get any friction on the bulge inside his pants.
“I…” he cleared his throat “I don't understand.”
“Well, I, for one, am not clueless you know.” your fingers traced the length of his neck, and you smiled when a few goosebumps pricked his skin.
He gulped.
“I know you jerked off to me earlier today.” you said flatly, with a sickening sweet voice while your finger now teased and rubbed his pebbled nipples through his shirt.
He gasped and you didn't know if it was from surprise or pleasure.
“I also know you followed me some weeks ago and jerked off in that bush outside my window.” you pointed to the window hidden behind your blinds and he followed your gaze, eyes watery and cheeks a bright red.
“And I know you steal my stuff and my trash so you can keep it.” he was still looking at your window when you palmed his bulge through his pants. He arched his back, moaning loudly, and you grinned maniacally at his reaction.
Pretty slut.
“Do you… D-do you think I'm disgusting?” he asked, shamelessly grinding his hips against your palm.
“Yeah, I do. I think you're disgusting and a creep.” he moaned at your words, but his eyes closed tightly, and a few more tears ran down his cheeks. He had a pained expression on his pretty face, like you had hurt his fragile feelings.
Apparently Kuuya knew how to tug on your heartstrings.
You moved your hand away from his pants, fully aware of the damp spot that had formed on the fabric.
“But so am I.” you completed and he opened his eyes wide, looking at you like you had just grown a second head.
“Seeing you so desperate and needy…” you shook your head in defeat “It does things to me, you know.”
“I-it does?” he asked, all doe eyed, blushing and hopeful. You sighed at the sight, trying to burn it forever into your brain.
“Mhm. Yeah. It makes me wanna eat you whole.”
Kuuya shuddered as you placed your hand back on his chest, gliding it towards his throat. You held his neck firmly for a second before you gently cupped his warm and reddened cheek. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes like a cat.
“Will you let me, Kuuya?” you whispered.
“W-what?” He opened his still teary eyes, gazing at you expectantly.
“Will you let me eat you?”
A beat of silence went by and you almost felt the ugly head of shame peek into your mind, but then he nodded, a single tear falling onto your thumb.
“Y-yes.”
Like a thin thread snapping, you kneeled onto the ground and pulled his waist towards you, letting his legs hang limply on your sides. Your fingers trembled as you undid his belt buckle and you looked at him.
Kuuya was propping himself onto one of his elbows, his other hand covering his mouth as he watched you hastily take off his pants and boxers. His hard cock sprung free, leaking pathetically, and your mouth watered at the sight.
You were starving. 
It was time to eat.
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Kuuya felt like he was dreaming. Or maybe he died and his very own heaven (if he would even be allowed there) was having you suck his painfully hard cock.
He forced his eyes to stay open so he could watch you. The way your tongue swirled on his head and pressed mercilessly on his slit – you had barely put his cock inside your mouth and he already felt like he was melting.
He knew he was sounding pathetic. He whined and squirmed against your hands while you kept his thighs open. It was so good, it was feeling so good he was losing control of his body.
When you started bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks to suck him harshly, he thought he would die. It had to be wrong, to feel this good. It was criminal.
Kuuya moaned like a whore and, deep inside, in the still conscious part of his mind, he wondered if you liked it. He hoped you did, he hoped his pathetic high pitched groans made you soak your panties because he couldn't control them.
Not when you were sucking him so good.
He bucked his hips against your mouth, the sound of your gag snapping him out of his daze for a moment so he could mumble a “sorry”, but then you moaned. 
You moaned and the vibrations of your throat went through his cock and he lost it, completely. He held your head firmly, thrusting frantically into your mouth as he repeated “'m sorry! 'm sorry! 'm sorry!” until the words lost all meaning to him. With a stutter, his hips bucked again and he spilled inside your mouth, his slurred words elongating into a pornographic moan.
You opened your mouth wide, relaxing your throat as soon as his cum began spurting, eagerly swallowing the salty taste of him while he rode his orgasm until he couldn't take the stimulation of your soft mouth anymore. 
As you dabbed the drops of cum that had spilled from your mouth, he suddenly wondered, in the back of his mind, if you already had any practice doing this kind of stuff. He panted, face warm and red, dick twitching while he looked at you wiping your mouth and licking your fingers. And he felt jealous at the thought.
He wanted to be the only one. He couldn't handle the thought of you touching anyone else like that. He hated it. Hated it. He had to be the only one you'd touch like that. God, he wished he could go back in time to prevent you from touching anyone else, just so you'd always be his alone.
A few angry tears pricked in the corner of his eyes and he tackled you to the ground, surprising you with a hug.
“K-kuuya?!” you squeaked, the air leaving your lungs went he laid all his weight on you.
Kuuya began rubbing his cheek against yours, sharing the sweat that stuck to his forehead with your face, making you grimace.
“W-what's wrong?” You asked in a murmur, after reciprocating his hug.
He whined wordlessly and began untangling himself from you, holding himself up by his trembling arms.
And, for a long moment, he just stared at you.
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You thought he looked beautiful. 
He wasn't exactly the most handsome man in the world, but to you, he looked angelic.
His lilac hair was disheveled and his face was flushed. His lips were a pretty red, as if he had bitten them too hard, and his eyes were half-lidded and clouded with lust and sheer adoration. It sent tingles down your spine. You wondered if anyone has ever looked at you like that, but you already knew that no one has ever held you in such high regard. It made your heart race and your core burn. 
You could sear the image of him under your eyelids and you would never tire of it.
He was gorgeous.
You tucked a strand of damp hair behind his ear and then cupped his cheek. Your thumb rubbed his skin gently and his eyes fluttered shut. He began leaning against your touch again, before he stopped himself and opened his eyes. You looked at him, puzzled, when he averted his gaze.
“U-um…” he began, after clearing his throat. You kept quiet, allowing for him to continue.
“C-can I… um. Can I eat you too?” He mumbled, closing his eyes tightly. You felt your face tingle at his words and his adorable embarrassment.
“Yes” you murmured and he opened his eyes wide “Yes, please.”
Kuuya quickly sat up on his knees, and looked around, apparently finally realizing you two were laying on the ground.
“Do you… want to move to the bed?” he asked bashfully, and you chuckled.
“Yes, it'd be more comfortable.”
He got up, holding out his hand to help you up as well. He didn't really have enough strength to pull you up, so you just held his hand tightly, not wanting to reject his help, as you gracelessly lifted yourself from the ground.
As soon as you were standing, you began pushing the waistband of your pants down, but Kuuya's hands quickly stopped you, holding you tightly. You widened your eyes as you looked at him.
“I… want to do that.” he said, bashfully.
Wow. Who would have thought he'd be so brazen for once.
You smiled, nodding, and laid on your bed, making yourself comfortable. 
You observed how Kuuya was already rock hard again and he had yet to touch you properly. He was insatiable for you and it made your pussy clench around nothing. 
He was going to be the death of you.
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Kuuya, in a sudden development, decided that it didn't matter what happened in the past. What happened, happened. All he needed to do was make you forget about it all.
He needed to be good. He needed to fuck you so good that you'd forget anyone you might have hooked up with in the past. He needed to make you addicted to his tongue, his fingers and his cock so you'd always go back to him for more.
Granted, he didn't know how he was going to do that since he was a literal virgin, but he hoped his enthusiasm would convince you to give him more chances, until he had mapped every little crevice of your body and all the little buttons that made you squirm.
Kuuya licked his lips, slowly pulling the hem of your pants down while he kneeled on your bed. The sight of your soaked panties made him gasp loud, and he had to grip the base of his cock tightly, hissing as he threw his head back. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down while he swallowed hard, concentrating on not allowing himself to cum.
He couldn't allow himself to cum untouched just by looking at your wet cunt. At least not in front of you. Not right there. He would, however, be filing this image inside the safest corners of his brain to become prime masturbation material later on, that's for sure.
He leaned in, warm and shaky breath hitting the damp spot on your panties. His tongue lolled out unconsciously and he licked a long stripe over the fabric of your underwear.
He was so sure he had died. That's the only possible answer for all the things happening right at that moment. Not only did you suck him, now he was tasting your pussy?
Oh god. He was tasting your pussy.
It was like something broke inside of him, allowing all of his obsession to spill over as soon as he pressed his tongue against you. He moaned loudly, ripping your underwear away only to grip it tightly in his hand as he, at last, dived into you.
He was going to keep it to himself as a prize. 
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Kuuya slurped and sucked and licked your wetness like a starved man. He wasn't focusing on the task at hand; instead, he was just getting drunk on your juices and your musk, moaning like someone who had just eaten the most delicious sweet. Oh he was so cute, all pussydrunk like that.
You hummed, gently holding a fistful of his hair as you grinded lightly against his eager tongue. You… probably weren't going to cum if he didn't suck you with a little bit more intent, but you figured you'd just let him enjoy himself for a bit more.
Just looking at his eyes rolling and hearing the sinful whimpers and grunts he was letting out was already doing something to you.
Soon enough, however, Kuuya seemed to discover that one little bundle of nerves. He gave it a few kitten licks before curling his lips against it to suck, and it was finally your turn to roll your eyes.
Your hand gripped his hair tighter and your back arched while he rolled his tongue against your clit; eyes wide when he realized he must have done something right.
One of his hands tentatively rubbed against your entrance and you cooed.
“Yes Kuuya, that's a good boy… Put one of your fingers inside me, baby”
He gasped against your pussy, the praise clearly making him lose his focus. A mean part of your brain thought about stuffing him with a butt plug just so you could make him wag a little tail whenever you praised him, but that would have to be an adventure for a later time.
He began pumping two fingers inside you, mouth going slack in awe once he heard the shlick of your wet cunt, and drool pooling at the side of his mouth.
He was so clueless and so, so cute. You couldn't help but think about actually making a mess of him.
“Kuuya” you said, not as a moan, but as a call. He stopped his motions for a second and looked at you – doe eyed, mouth and chin still glistening with your cum.
You licked your lips at the sight.
“I'll sit up a bit. I want you to lay down on the bed.” You said, as you shifted your position and rested your back against the headrest, making him crawl towards you to keep his head between your legs.
You watched as he slowly rested his body against the bed, a little yelp coming out of his lips when his hardened length pressed against the mattress.
“Good boy.” You praised him as you ran your knuckles on the sticky skin of his cheek and he whined.
“Now I want you to hump the bed while you eat me out.” you said, flatly.
Kuuya's eyes widened like saucers.
“W-what?” 
“You're hard, aren't you?” You ran your hand through his head, caressing his hair gently “I want you to fuck the bed while you eat me out. I want to watch you move your hips like a pretty slut. Can you do that for me?” 
He blinked, staying silent as you kept threading your fingers through his hair. The furious blush that spread through his face and neck was anything but unnoticeable.
“I can give you a pillow, if you'd rather hump it instead of the bed” you added, figuring he was probably already addicted to humping his own pillow like a dog in heat, so it wouldn't hurt to make him comfortable while he obeyed you.
“Y-yes… I would like a pillow then.” He whispered.
You mouthed an okay and gave him your favorite pillow – the one you usually hugged while sleeping. You wondered if he knew that. And by the way his eyes lit up when he saw the pillow, you figured he probably did.
“Take off your shirt? Please?” you asked him, after he positioned the pillow where he wanted it to be.
Kuuya pouted at your request, and as you were about to tell him he didn't need to do it if it made him uncomfortable, his trembling hands moved to unbutton his shirt slowly. You reached out to him, pausing his hands. He looked at you, sad puppy eyes glistening with tears.
“Do you want to take off your shirt? You don't have to if you don't want to.” you reassured him.
He sniffled, looking away.
“I-I don't mind.” he mumbled and you knew he was probably hiding his discomfort to please you and would never tell you the truth. 
Kuuya seemed thirsty for your approval in every little thing, to the detriment of himself. It made a little monster inside of you roar with the desperate need to keep him tucked away, safe with you, just like a dragon who hoards gold in a faraway cave.
Your thumb caressed his still trembling hands.
“Then just leave these buttons undone. You don't have to take it off.”
“But-”
“Kuuya.” You said his name firmly, making him flinch despite the gentle touch of your hand against his. You noticed how his cock twitched at that as well. “It's okay. Now please be a good boy.”
You went back to your position against the headrest and opened your legs, pussy still dripping and throbbing with the lack of attention. He gulped, licking his lips and nodded furiously.
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It was hard, coordinating his movements. All Kuuya had known his whole life was to jerk off or hump his pillow, but now he had to suck you, lick you, pump his fingers inside you AND hump your precious pillow. Not that he was complaining. He loved it. It was Heaven.
But he felt a bit self conscious about his abilities, or lack thereof.
Just like he was self conscious when you asked him to strip. He hated his body – he was so scrawny and weak-looking, he felt disgusting. What if you hated him? What if you wanted something else in a partner? He couldn't risk having you uninterested in him! Not when he got what he so desperately wanted!
Showing you his body would have to wait until he was either convinced you truly wanted him, or until he got you locked up in his apartment. The last option was the most tempting to him – having you shackled to his barred window would be a guarantee that you wouldn't run away after all.
But for now, all he could do was his best – all while suffocating you with his affections until you drowned in them.
The squelching sounds of your pussy as he pumped his fingers inside you were driving him insane.
Kuuya humped your pillow like a dumb dog in heat – his hips almost bounced against the bed with how hard and deep he was thrusting. He couldn't wait until he was balls deep inside your cunt, the leaky tip of his cock kissing your cervix until he filled you whole.
He felt dizzy. He half registered how loud his moans were; all he could think was about your cum all over his face and how he fucked your pillow, mean and fast.
“C-curl your fingers up, baby” you whined, pulling his hair, and this finally got his attention.
He acquiesced, because he was good. He was so good for you and he was going to learn everything you liked because no one else would ever touch your body ever again. 
Only him.
And he had to learn it all to keep you satisfied and happy, so you'd praise him and fuck the brains out of him as a reward. It was the perfect exchange! You'd be his and he'd be yours and nothing could ever keep his grubby hands away from you now.
He would do whatever you asked.
He felt a spongy texture against the pad of his fingers, and when you mewled, legs spasming around him, he knew he had found gold, somehow.
He halted the movement of his hips to focus on swirling his tongue against your clit and fingering your cunt at an insane speed. He would for sure be extremely sore the next day, but he only cared about your loud moans and how your thighs were squishing his head so tight and so good.
When you finally came, he groaned at the feeling of your cunt squeezing his fingers inside you, pulling them deeper inside with a vice grip, and the taste of your cum wetting his whole face. He reached his own peak at the thought of how HE was the one who made you curl your toes and soak your bed sheets like that.
And another proof that he was made for you was added into his mind.
But it was too fucking much. For the first time in his life, Kuuya felt drunk. He needed more or he would die. He needed more more more more.
Maybe more than you could even give.
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He didn't let you breathe at all.
As soon as your eyes fluttered open again, coming down from your high, he began crawling on top of you, panting like a feral dog. You watched as a sticky thread of his cum momentarily connected his dick to your now wet pillow and despite all that, he was still fucking hard. How was that even possible was beyond you, but you didn't have time to linger on those thoughts when he hovered over you.
“I wanna cum in you” he moaned, still moving his hips, humping your mound. His eyes were glazed over, like he wasn't all there with you, and his pupils were blown wide.
“I wanna cum in you” he repeated, panting, a little bit of drool spilling from the corner of his mouth “I need to cum in-inside you. I need to fill you up, please. Let me breed you? Please? I wanna be inside you and hnng- pump you full of my cum, please? Let me cum inside, please? Please please please let me breed you, please” he slurred nonstop, almost incoherently, while he frantically moved his hips like he couldn't control them.
He was so drunk with you that he was desperate and talking like he had never done before. 
It was pathetic. 
And so fucking hot.
“Shhh baby, it's okay” you cooed, petting his head to calm him down while your other hand squeezed his hip to try and still his movements “You can fuck me, it's okay. I'm not going anywhere.”
He whined, nodding his head and sniffling as a few tears ran down his cheeks, seemingly coming back to his senses a little bit.
“It's okay, love” you pulled his head towards you, cradling him on your chest. You kept on petting him, while your other hand softly scratched his back in order to calm him down.
Once his breathing was a little less erratic, you let him raise his chest again.
“You okay?” you murmured.
He nodded, rubbing his eyes. Then he looked down at his cock and back at you. You chuckled. He really was insatiable.
You threw your arms around his neck, eyes half-lidded.
“Then go on and fill me up” you murmured against his ear, enjoying the shiver that went down his spine.
You didn't need to ask twice.
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Kuuya was so nervous.
He was about to be inside his love! He was about to fill them up with his cum, but the thought itself was already throwing him to the edge. He would have to do his best to not cum once he felt your gummy walls squeeze his cock.
Easier said than done.
Kuuya threw his head back again, a guttural moan erupting from his chest as soon as he got the head past your entrance. He heaved loudly, focusing so hard on not spilling himself so soon, whimpering whenever your walls clenched around him.
“Y-you okay?” you asked breathlessly and all he could do was nod with a pained expression on his face.
“It's okay, take it slow” you added, gently rubbing his thighs. 
You were an angel, truly. Only you would have so much patience with someone as pathetic as him. He had to fuck you good! He had to show you that you could depend on him! This way you would keep pampering him like he so desperately needed.
Through pure determination, Kuuya pushed himself further, moaning pornographically with every inch that went inside you. Once you had taken him down his hilt, he exhaled, shakily.
“T-there you go…” you groaned “Filling me up so much, my good boy.”
Kuuya whimpered. He was torn between asking you not to say those things so he wouldn't cum, and lapping up your praise like a parched man.
He began moving, slowly thrusting in and out of your wet cunt, and he felt like he was melting all over again. He was going to be just a puddle, with how good it felt. You clenched tightly around his length like you were trying to milk him dry and he realized that he was probably going to be addicted to this from then on – there was no going back.
His nails dug into the plush of your hips as he began pounding into you, fast and erratic, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and the wet noise of his cock being drenched in your juices were so dirty and he loved it. He couldn't help the “Ah! Ah! Ah!” he kept letting out to the rhythm of his thrusts.
You were just so good, so made for him, so his.
With a sudden movement, Kuuya hooked his arms under your legs and pushed you. He always saw that position in those porn videos, and he always wanted to do it to you. The mating press. He wanted to push himself inside you as far as he could and then fill you up with his jizz. Ah, just thinking about it made his cock twitch inside of you.
He wondered if you could feel his fast and loud heartbeat in your pussy, since his cock was so damn hard. It would be almost painful if it wasn't for your glorious wetness sucking him in so good and taking care of him.
You grabbed one of Kuuya's hand and brought it to your clit, urging him to draw little circles on it to bring you over that edge. He rubbed it quick and merciless, looking down at how your pussy was swallowing his cock, so wet that a ring of white had formed around its base as he fucked you, and how your clit also twitched under his fingers.
Not long after, you felt your abdomen tighten and your walls clench around him as you reached your orgasm, arching your back while you desperately pushed his hand away from your clit to avoid overstimulation.
Watching you cum so hard because of his very own ministrations made Kuuya cross over that edge right away as well. With a high pitched moan, he spurted his load inside you – so much cum that it spilled down  to your bed and Kuuya mindlessly tried to push it back into you while he rode his high.
His chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over, the look of pure adoration still visible in his pink orbs as he looked at you, sweaty and thoroughly fucked (by him! Not by a toy! Much less another man! Not ever again.)
He wanted more. He needed more. He felt like he could cum over and over again inside you and fuck you silly for hours on end.
But as he opened his dry mouth to say these words, a sudden tiredness took over his body and his eyelids got impossibly heavy.
Kuuya fell down into your arms, unconsciously snuggling your figure, his softening dick still inside you as he cuddled your body and placed kisses on your sticky skin. It wasn't long until his breathing became steady and sleep took over his body.
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You decided you'd let 5 or 10 minutes pass before you'd wake him up in order to drink some water, eat some protein bars and join you in the shower so you two could clean up.
But damn it, was he adorable while sleeping. He had a little pout on his bottom lip, but besides that, his face finally looked relaxed. The first time you've seen him like that in all those months you two have been coworkers.
Pride swelled in your chest as you thought about how you're the first one to ever see him like that.
The scared wet cat finally in your arms, ready for you to coddle, kiss, fuck, take care of and protect from any harm.
You unconsciously tightened your hold on him, feeling a wave of possessiveness so vile that it made you dizzy for a second.
It was a bit too much, what you seemed to feel for him. But you weren't willing to analyze that at that moment. He was right there in your arms, clutching you like you were his lifeline – and that was more than enough for you.
At least your anxiety and paranoia had been completely quelled. If he was so desperate to fuck you after you confessed you were a bit creepy for him as well, then maybe it was okay for you to be more upfront with your desires, just like he was.
Even though he truly would never guess he was being so obvious.
It was so cute, how he thought you really didn't know about anything he ever did. Not the stalking, nor the stealing. And not even the little thoughtful things he could straight up tell you because you'd genuinely appreciate them. 
However, regardless of him telling you or not, you just knew everything. Your poor little baby wasn't very subtle, after all.
Therefore, you very much knew Kuuya had stayed behind with you at work just because he knew you'd be there. He thought he was elusive, but you could pick up his intentions from miles and miles away. As soon as you first saw him idling alone in that kitchen, it all clicked perfectly in your head.
Kuuya was so silly and so dumb, sometimes. But it was okay because that made him so, so cute that you could eat him up.
Over and over and over again.
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4K notes · View notes
99woez · 7 months ago
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crush ᰔᩚ l.sh
warnings. smut, best friend!sohee, childhood best friends to lovers, oral (fem receiving), making out, ethel cain inspired so obviously mentions of cannibalism as a metaphor for love, no actual cannibalism lmao, mentions of poverty. heavily inspired by "crush" by ethel cain. i think that's it but if i missed something please let me know! enjoy <3
part one || part two
wc. 4.4k
summary. the only escape from this deadbeat town is your best friend, lee sohee.
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“You know, my brother was the valedictorian.”
“Yeah, your mom yells at you about it all the time,” You deadpan, eyes shut behind your heart-shaped sunglasses as you lay out in Sohee’s backyard. One thing about Sohee’s mother is she didn’t give a damn about who was around; she was going to remind Sohee he should be more like his brother. She was a rough woman, but you figured she had to be with a husband on death row. She raised two boys alone in this good-for-nothing town you so desperately wanted to get out of but were trapped in. Like a fly stuck in the sticky yellow paper curling up in the corners of Sohee’s kitchen, you think with a huff as the sun beats down on your skin, leaving it hot to the touch.
Sohee looks down at you and pushes out a chuckle.
“She does yell about that a lot.” It sounds like he’s never thought about it before. He probably hasn’t. Sohee was an optimist, kind, and smart despite thinking he was not. He could’ve gotten better grades in school if he tried harder––That was his problem. He was a people pleaser and started pleasing the wrong people. His friends moved dope, so Sohee did as well despite never trying a drug in his life, even to this day. 
“You going to the Pecan Festival?” Sohee asks after a passing moment of silence. You open your eyes at the mention of the event. There were very few things to look forward to in this town: The flea market, the Wet Leaf ball you and Sohee were too poor to get invited to, and the Pecan Festival. Everything else fun was a trip out of town on a highway you’ve grown fond of. Still, you love the Peacan Festival. You’ve been going since you were little. Tickets were cheap, the food was greasy, and the rides looked like they failed several safety tests but you loved it. It was one of the few things that kept you here.
Besides Sohee, of course.
You prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at Sohee, tipping your head down so he can see your eyes over the thick red rims of your sunglasses. He smiles softly when he see your eyes, a crooked smile that only he possesses and makes your heart stutter a bit. There’s no one like Sohee, you think as you feel your own lips begin to turn upwards in a smile of their own.
“Of course I am,” You quip, “I was the Pecan Princess, you know?”
Sohee laughs at that, head tipping back as his laughter fills the sky.
“Yeah, when you were, like, ten. You’re too old to be a princess now.”
Your jaw drops in faux offense, putting your hand over your heart.
“Well, if I’m not a princess, what am I, Sohee? An old hag?”
“You’re a queen. Real royalty,” He jokes, making you click your tongue at his poor attempts of flirting, rolling your eyes. Sohee inhales sharply through his teeth, turning his face away from you when he realizes the joke didn’t land like he wanted to, embarrassed chuckles leaving his lips as his cheeks get even more pink.
You still smile at him despite his flubbed joke, reaching out and pinching his warm cheek. He squeezes his eyes shut with a whine but doesn’t move away from your touch, making you coo playfully.
“Come on, jester. You’re going to get a heat stroke,” You tease as you push yourself to your feet with a grunt. Sohee lingers in the dying grass for a moment, looking up at you for a beat too long. You put your hands on your hips, raising your brows at him to silently tell him to hurry his ass up. He takes the silent command with a sigh, pushing himself up to his feet and nodding towards his small house.
“Mama has lemonade in the fridge.” 
“Did she make it, or was it store-bought?”
“Made it, of course. You know she’s scared of artificial sugars,” Sohee reminds you as he opens the screen door that hollers when it’s pulled open, then pulls hard on the actual door into his rickety old house to open it for you. You do a small skip at that news. As crazy as she may be, Sohee’s mom could tear it up in the kitchen if she wanted to. Most of the time, she didn’t want to and left the cooking to Sohee. He’s become a better cook over the years, but there was a time when you were over every night either cooking him dinner or making sure he didn’t burn the house down.
You sip the perfectly tart yet sweet yellow liquid through a red and white striped paper straw, sitting in the corner of the green velvet couch in Sohee’s living room as he begins flipping through the channels from the other side of the couch. The sounds of the channels blend in a dull symphony as you look at the white front door with a slight hum.
“When does your mama come home?” You ask, turning your attention to Sohee’s side profile as he shrugs.
“Late. She has a night shift.”
“Think I can spend the night?” You wonder casually before taking another sip of lemonade. Sleepovers were common between the two of you. You’ve been having them since you were kids though when you were younger, you would sleep in separate sleeping bags in the living room. His sleeping bag was big and green, like a soldier, he would say, and yours purple and had a faded picture of Cinderella on the front. The memories are fond. You always smile when you remember how long Sohee has been in your life.
Sohee shrugs again, turning to look at you as he pauses his channel search. It’s on some local channel; a woman with too much lipstick on talks excitedly to a sunburnt man about the Pecan Festival, but you barely hear her. You’re too busy focusing on Sohee as you wrap your lips around your straw again and sip down the final sips of your drink.
“Don’t see why not,” Sohee says softly, big brown eyes flicking to your lips and then back in your eyes. You watch as he dampens his lips by sticking his tongue out just slightly, causing heat to spread throughout your chest. You have to turn your gaze away from him, watching the TV with a knowing smirk. You shake your cup to jiggle the ice cubes inside it around before reaching in and plopping a cube into your mouth, keeping you preoccupied.
You can feel Sohee’s gaze on your profile for a few moments too long before he turns back towards the TV, awkwardly clearing his throat and shifting in his seat.
“Are we going to-”
“Do what we did last time?” You finish for him, shaking your cup again as you crunch down on the hard ice cube in your mouth, cooling your body down instantly. Sohee’s gaze is back on the side of your face, but it’s more intense now, making your heart beat faster. You play it cool. You always play it cool with Sohee, which isn’t hard to do since Sohee is so easy to please more often than not.
“We can,” You hum, looking at the boy beside you with a sly smirk as he stares at you with the biggest, most desperate eyes you’ve ever seen. You pout playfully at him, reaching out and grazing his cheek with the back of your fingers. “You want me to suck your dick again, pretty boy?” You ask as if you’re asking what he wants for dinner, grabbing his chin gently and shaking his face barely. 
You didn’t mean to suck Sohee off––You swear, it just happened. He was the one to bring up how he still hasn’t fucked anyone, droning on and on about how he craves to be touched by someone, anyone, at this point. You were just doing him a favor. It didn’t mean anything.
But the kiss you shared most certainly did. You haven’t stopped thinking about kissing Sohee since it happened, your gaze lingering on his lips longer than they should during conversations, or your hand working yourself to an orgasm, thinking of how good his soft lips would feel wrapped around your clit. You have to contain yourself to not bite your lip at the thought of leaning in and kissing him right now. You don’t dare look at his lips, knowing you’ll lose self-control if you do.
Sohee inhales deeply through his nose, watching your face closely, eyes trained on your lips as he wets his again. He nods before giving a nonchalant shrug. You notice the tips of his ears are already red. He’s so cute.
“I mean, I wouldn’t mind. ‘Totally wouldn’t say no,” He laughs, making you smile and inch towards him. Sohee leans back slightly, making you pull back, but he shakes his head. “I just…You know, that’s not all I care about, right? Like, it’d be cool to do all that with you, but I don't…We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to. We’re friends before anything. Always.” 
Then his pinky is out between the two of you. You look down at his hand, chuckling softly before looking back at his face. You never thought otherwise, but you suppose it’s sweet. Sohee wanted to assure you of that. Again, you know Sohee and know yourself at this point, so you didn’t need the assurance that he wasn’t using you as a fleshlight.
You hook your pinky with his, shaking his hand firmly with a smile.
“Always.”
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Sohee’s room is such a wreck.
He climbs on his bed, lying across it to push open his window just enough to let some air in. The AC unit in his room blew out about a month ago when the heat started to kick in. It was only a matter of time. The thing had been running since Sohee was three. You’re shocked it lasted this long. You go to the white box fan in the corner of his room, sitting on a chair as you click it onto the highest setting. The hum instantly fills the once-still room, and warm air circulates throughout the stuffy room.
Sohee sits up on his bed, leaning his back against the wall his bed was against with a hand behind his head to act as a cushion. His big brown eyes watch as you go to his dresser, opening it to dig for your favorite shirt of his. You can feel his eyes on your back as you shuffle through his drawer, making you smile faintly. You always liked having Sohee’s attention, but having him look at you like he wanted to eat you whole was a new kind of rush. You craved it more than you had for any other boy in your life.
There were only two before Sohee if you’re being honest. This town didn’t have the best selection of men to pick from. First, there was Wonbin, your first boyfriend. He was beautiful, stunning, striking even, with pretty long black hair and a nose you memorized the shape of a thousand times over. You suppose you loved him and his gentle ways but always wanted more from him. It’s not like it mattered; you two broke up a week after graduation when he was accepted into Yale. You don’t exactly blame him. He was going to fucking Yale, and you were going to the community college in the neighboring town. You hope he’s well.
Then there was Eunseok. You’re shocked you remember his name. After you two met in a bar, he was a hook-up in the back of his car under the underpass. He was driving through on “business,” at least that’s what he told you. Easily, it was the best sex you’d ever had. He was way more experienced than Wonbin had been and rougher. He knew what he wanted and he knew how to get it. You had to appreciate that about him. Plus, he was gorgeous. You still follow him on Instagram just to never forget what he looked like.
And now, there’s Sohee, and Sohee is so different from the first two. You know it, he knows it, everyone knows it, but no one says it. 
His eyes are still trained on your back, practically burning holes into your skin as you slowly peel your own shirt off and over your head. You let a beat pass to feel his gaze on you a few more seconds before you pull his shirt over your head and let it drape over your frame. You hear him clear his throat, causing you to turn around to face him with a kind smile and tilt of your head. He blinks at you with a crooked smile that seems to keep growing the longer he looks at you before patting the spot next to you excessively.
You skip a bit as a big smile takes your face, rushing over to his bed, jumping onto it, and landing on your knees next to him, bouncing a bit when you land thanks to the springs in the old mattress of Sohee’s bed. You curl your lips in when you look at him, watching his eyes scatter across your face with that same smile on his face. You both can’t seem to stop smiling; both of you are giddy but too unsure to make the first move. You giggle quietly at the silence, leaning closer to him to bump your forehead against the side of his head. 
"Nervous?" you tease, and Sohee chuckles in response - a sound so sweet it makes your heart flutter. His large hand reaches out to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, his touch light and careful. This simple act sends an indescribable shiver down your spine.
"Not nervous. Just…" He hesitates momentarily, glancing away as he searches for the right words. But then he's looking back at you with those warm brown eyes full of nothing but love. "Just wanna make sure this is what you want," he finalizes, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek.
His concern is touching, but also slightly amusing. And it only serves to deepen that heat building up in your chest - this feeling so different from anything you've ever felt. Everything feels new with Sohee but also so familiar.
You take in his worried expression before giving him a reassuring smile, reaching up to cup his face with both hands. "Trust me," you state firmly, pressing a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose for emphasis. "This is what I want."
His pretty eyes blink at you once, twice, before his lips stretch into another one of his adorable smiles, crinkling up into crescent moons at the corners. As always, it's contagious, and you can't help but smile back at him.
He leans in first, slow and careful, like he's afraid he might break you. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as your eyes flutter close, the anticipation almost unbearable now.
Then, finally, his lips meet yours softly, gently, almost like a breath against your skin in the beginning. It sets you ablaze. Everywhere. You can feel the heat pooling low in your stomach instantly, spreading through your bloodstream as he leans into you further. His fingers lace with yours, his hand resting on your lower back as he opens himself up to you more, asking you to deepen the kiss. And when you do, it’s perfect.
Soft and slow, his lips pressing against yours in a familiar rhythm. Sohee tastes of sweet lemonade and mint gum as they move against yours. You don’t know how much of it is real life and how much is a dream because Sohee’s lips seem to mold to yours so effortlessly that you forget everything else but his warmth, the smell of his breath on your face, and the taste of his mouth.
You moan softly into his lips, feeling him curve into the touch, nudging closer to you until their bodies are pressed together from shoulder to thigh. Your fingers dig into his arms, not wanting to lose this contact for one second as your free hand lingers at the hem of his t-shirt. You both sigh into each other’s mouths softly before pulling away just enough to suck on his bottom lip softly, feeling him whine in response.
“So cute as always,” You whisper against his lips before pressing them together once more, feeling him moan into your mouth at the mere touch of your lips against his. It still boggles your mind that he’s never done stuff like this before. When you asked him why he never just got on a dating app, he told you he tried, and it wasn’t as easy as it sounded or that none of the people he found on there were his type. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense that Sohee never had sex before last weekend. 
Sohee didn’t talk to a lot of girls. He was shy, very sweet, but very shy. It wasn’t that girls didn’t like him. Plenty of them did. He just couldn’t talk to them for long. The longer you thought about it, it was a miracle he had managed to kiss a girl before you blew him. To be fair, they were both drunk, and at a party the cops would end up showing up to. It’s not like it mattered now, but it plagued your thoughts, knowing you’re the only one he’s had like this.
His hand finds its way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as his other hand traces a slow path down your side. The feel of him, his closeness, and the pure 'Sohee' of him is intoxicating, and you can't get enough. You angle your head slightly to deepen the kiss, feeling his grip on you tighten.
There's a slight rustle of fabric as Sohee shifts closer, and what was sweet and gentle heats up to an intensity that takes your breath away. He pulls back ever so slightly, but before you can protest, he's claiming your lips again with a fervor that makes your heart pound even harder.
You gasp into his kiss, feeling it wash over you like a wave. His hands are on your waist now, pulling you closer as if there's not already enough heat between the two of you. There's a sudden boldness to him that sends a thrill down your spine. This is Sohee - sweet and shy Sohee - who has somehow managed to transform into this passionate, assertive thing that has you pressed into his sheets and kissing you like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
Suddenly, he pulls away from your lips and starts trailing kisses down your neck. You reach up to his hair, tugging lightly at the strands as he moves further down. His hands roam over your body, tentative but becoming more confident by the second. 
“You okay?” he whispers against your skin. His voice is unsteady, revealing just how much he’s holding back. Your heart tightens at his concern, making you want him even more.
“Yeah,” you breathe out, “More than okay.”
That seems to be all the encouragement Sohee needs. He pulls away to tug at your clothes, looking up at you for permission before slipping them off entirely. Now, nothing but bare skin and the dim light that filters through the room.
His eyes never leave yours as he moves lower, pressing a kiss just above your belly button. The anticipation of what’s to come has you trembling. It's as if his shyness is melting away and being replaced with something raw and hungry.
“Sohee…” Your voice is barely a whisper as he hovers above you. His gaze is intense, full of questions that he doesn’t need to ask because, yes, of course, you want this.
His fingers trace over your thighs before spreading them apart gently as if he's afraid you'll break. His eyes flicker up to meet yours once again, and his head dips down.
It's clumsy and awkward at first. Sohee has no idea what he's doing, and it's as clear as day. But something is endearing about his determination to make this good for you: how he tries different movements until he finds one he likes. More so, he likes the reactions you give him.
His lips brush against you, soft and warm, like a feather on your skin. It's electric, and you let out a tiny moan, more surprised than anything. Sohee's fingers curl into your thighs harder, his nose grazing the patch of hair below your navel. That tiny touch sends shivers down your spine. He continues his exploration, kissing and licking upwards until he reaches the sensitive spot between your legs. The feeling is unbearable, and you gasp for air as he finally settles there. His nose moves softly against your folds, taking in your scent. You feel him inhale deeply, almost like he's absorbing you into his system.
"Sohee," you whisper his name against the pillow, unable to form any other words as he parts you with his fingers and dips his head lower, pressing another kiss there before swirling his tongue around your clit. You can feel yourself melting under his touch; it's almost too much. Sohee's hair tickles against your inner thighs as he burrows deeper this time, tasting you properly. Every pulse of pleasure that goes through you spurs him on, making him suck harder on your clit as one hand moves across the sheets to intertwine with yours. You whimper at the feeling of his palm against yours, squeezing tightly as you watch him with heavy-lidded eyes.
You buckle beneath him, crying out his name, feeling each breath he takes against your skin. His lips dart in and out, tracing circles with his tongue as he grazes over your clit. You grip the sheets tightly, arching your back and moaning into the pillow. Sohee's fingers squeeze your hand while the other hand continues to explore every inch of you he can reach from his position. You can feel every shudder run through him as he takes you into his mouth, tasting you, teasing you mercilessly with gentle sucks against your folds.
You open your eyes to look at him, seeing the concentration on his face as he lavishes attention on you. His free hand traces your inner thigh, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. He licks and teases, sucking softly at your clit as you squirm underneath him. The bed creeks with every move he makes, adding another layer of stimulation as your moans become louder and more desperate for release.
Your hips rise off the bed a little before coming back down hard onto the mattress as you let out a long, low groan. Your fingers dig into his hair as Sohee's tongue darts out to flick across your entrance – a taste test that has your toes curling in response. He hums around you, smiling against your skin as he takes you deeper into his mouth. The vibrations send shockwaves of pleasure through you, making it harder to keep quiet. You bite down on your bottom lip as pleasure builds within you, feeling so close to the edge but not quite there yet.
You feel your walls start to tremble and quake as you near your peak, your hips bucking up and forcing him deeper into your mouth. Soon, he's sucking at just the right rhythm, sending waves of pleasure over you that build and crash with each passing moment. Your fingers dig into his hair, holding on for dear life as he moans around you, encouraging him to continue. He does so, pushing you further and further until your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, crashing through you in waves. Your body tenses, and your breath quickens as your muscles contract in ecstasy. A tight moan rips from your throat as you reach the peak of pleasure, waves of bliss pulsing through every inch of you.
Sohee doesn't let up, swirling his tongue around your entrance until the last shudder passes through you. Then, he slowly pulls away from you, giving your clit one last lick before looking up at you with those brown eyes that hold nothing but love and adoration. His hands smooth over your stomach before gently kissing the skin, lifting his head, and colliding his full lips with yours. You taste sweet against his lips, moaning against him as your arms drape over his shoulders, grabbing his shirt by the back of the neck and pulling it over his head.
He breaks from the kiss to let you take his shirt off, but he’s dragging himself back to your lips, moaning when he crashes into you. “Always wanted to do that,” Sohee pants against your lips as he ruts his hips against yours, making you whimper up at him as the fabric of his basketball shorts brush against your sensitive folds. 
“You’re-You taste so good. Fuck, every bit of you tastes so good. I just want to eat every part of you.” His breathless confessions make you moan quietly, nodding along in agreement as your breathing begins to pick up again. Your heart is pounding in your throat like you just ran a marathon, your hands scrambling to press against his chest. When your palms press to his chest, you hear his heart pounding against his ribcage.
“I’d let you eat me,” You tell him breathlessly, feeling him smile against your lips. “Want to live inside you forever. ‘Don’t ever want to leave you.” Sohee groans at your dragged-out words, ducking his head into the crook of your neck where his lips attack the skin there, nipping and sucking to leave bruises, marking you as his for everyone to see.
“Promise me you’ll never leave me, baby. Please,” Sohee whispers into your skin, his words sinking into your bones and carving themselves into them. You nod without hesitation, digging your nails into his back. Your brain is too clouded to think rationally, to remember how you hated this town, to remember the dozens of out-of-state college applications you sent out to rid yourself of this place, even to contemplate how you would leave Sohee one day. Not now, it doesn’t matter now.
“I promise. I swear, Sohee,” You whisper, turning your head for your lips to brush against the shell of his ear. He moans, body trembling against you before lifting his lips to collide with yours again.
Beneath the hum of the box fan and squeaks of a mattress with every move you two make, you can hear the cicadas sing.
394 notes · View notes
crescenthistory · 3 months ago
Text
You and I, We’ve Grown Comfortable Here
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Pairing: Lee x Reader
Summary: Two outcasts with nowhere to go decides to go nowhere together. In each other they find shelter, acceptance, intrigue and a bond neither expected to go as deep as it does.
Words: 13.6k
Warnings: not proofread, basically five fics in one (a year of their relationship developing), assault, hints at sexual assault, implied attempted rape, death, murder, cannibalism (bones&all hello), make-out sessions, blood, implied smut(?), panic attacks, implied abusive parents, kicked out of home, living in a car, crying, angst, slow burn, cannibals in love, hurt/much comfort, happy ending, lee's truck being a character in and of itself
A/N: i am so unwell, i wrote this whole thing in the span of ONE day. this man makes me unwell. anyway, if i ever write any other fics or drabbles for lee, unless otherwise specified, presume it is based on this background because i am obsessed with these two.
***
When you saw the headlights, your heart caught in your throat just a little. It was late, too late to be out walking down a relatively abandoned countryroad, too late to even be awake. With only the stars for company, you were dragging your feet as you were walking in the hopes of hitting a camping site soon. You had heard good rumours of one not far away from the town you are putting in your rearview mirror. Metaphorically of course, with no driving liscense or car, all you had to get from one place to another were your shoes and your bravery.
It had been a couple of months since you left home. Whenever you had the opportunity to sleep, you could still hear the shouting and the slamming of doors when your father finally threw you out for good. The home in question had never felt safe for you anyway, you had never fit into the small town cookie cutter they tried to press you into, even when it drew blood.
After all that, you might be best off alone you concluded, and have stuck to that as you made your way through the US. There was nowhere in particular you wanted to go, you just did not want to be tied down anywhere. You wanted to see, explore and feel.
You had been dabbling in hitchhiking over the months, always sending a silent prayer to gods you did not believe in before getting into the strange cars. With a knife always in the pocket of your hoodie, you felt relatively secure that you could defend yourself if worse comes to worse. Yet you knew you can never truly know. You tried to keep your head on you still.
There had not been any cars on the road you were currently occupying for the past two hours. It had, for a glorious moment, felt like yours. Just you and the pavement and the night. So, when the headlights lit you up for behind, you grew a bit weary. Part of you wanted to jump in it, unsure of how long you had left until the campsite, tired to the bone, but you knew you shouldn’t at this hour.
But you were also so incredibly tired.
The rumble of the engine neared closer and the driver dimmed the headlights. On your left, the car drove into view, an old beat up truck, and it was slowing down to stop beside you. Leaning over the passenger seat, a young man peered out through the rolled down window, a messy head of freshly dyed hair shining like a beacon in the dark. He watched you with a face torn between curios and cautious.
“You good?” he called out, trying to be heard over the noise of his car.
You didn’t answer right away. Instinct told you to keep walking, to keep your head down and stay invisible like you’d been doing all night. But something about him made you stop.
You squinted through the light. “What do you think?”
He let out a breathy laugh, the kind that was more habit than humor. "Yeah, didn’t think so." His voice was rough, not unfriendly, but sharp around the edges. He glanced down the empty road and then back at you. "Need a ride or something?"
Every ride so far had been a risk, a quiet leap of faith, and it wasn’t like you had a good track record with trusting people. Your parents had made sure of that, kicking you out like it was nothing, like you were the problem for being too loud, too you.
Still, you couldn’t keep walking forever. And there was something intriguing about this boy, out here alone in the night, just like you.
“I guess that’s where we’re at tonight,” was your response, and he nodded immediately with a halfsmile.
“Fair enough. Where you headed?”
“Anywhere but here.”
“Same,” he said, and for a moment, the two of you just stared at each other across the empty road. Something about him felt different — like he wasn’t just another passerby. You weren’t scared. Maybe that should’ve worried you.
He threw the passenger side door open. “You coming, or what?”
"Depends," you said, raising an eyebrow. "You a serial killer or something?"
He smirked, but there was a hint of something darker in his eyes, something guarded. "Not tonight."
"Comforting," you deadpanned, but you found yourself stepping closer to the truck anyway.
He watched you climb in with a kind of steady calm, like he was waiting for you to make the call. There wasn’t an ounce of threat in him, no leering or weird comments, just quiet, detached curiosity.
The truck smelled faintly of gasoline and something else, something metallic that made the back of your throat tighten, but you ignored it. There was a quiet ease to him, though, like he wasn’t thinking of you as prey – like he wasn’t thinking of you at all, really. He just… was. And it felt like enough.
The silence stretched between you as the truck rumbled down the road. Finally, you turned to him, curiosity itching at your thoughts.
“So, you pick up girls off the side of the road often, or am I just lucky?”
He gave you a side glance, something like amusement tugging at the corners of his lips. “Lucky’s a word for it.”
There was something raw in his eyes when he said it, a guarded edge you recognized. You didn’t push it. 
“I heard there is a campsite in the town over, I was thinking of maybe staying the night there,” you said, not wanting him to feel stuck with you in the car forever.
“The Meadows Site? Yeah, I was actually thinking of parking there for the night myself,” he said, giving you a curious glance before looking back to the road. “But it is a few more hours off.”
“Wow, I really am lucky you picked me up then.”
He snorted at that, a sound you somehow hadn’t expected to escape from him, but was amused to hear. You didn’t feel a need to chat further at the moment, and didn’t get the impression he did either. It was not uncomfortable though, the opposite actually. The atmosphere in his truck was comforting, to the point where you would almost fall asleep, though you really should not. Still, there was one thing left to ask.
“What’s your name, kind stranger?” you quipped, teasing tone evident in your voice. He smiled fully then, relaxing more into his seat.
“Lee. And yours, lucky girl?”
You told him your name and settled back into your seat yourself, watching the stars blur into the dark as the truck carried you further and further from everything you’d ever known.
***
It turned out you both had nowhere to go. No one waiting for you at the end of the line. No real reason for him to drive off without you the morning after your night spent in Meadows Site. He had borrowed you a blanket to lay on, thicker than the one you had been surviving on for a while now. After eating breakfast at a shop nearby that he showed you, clearly more familiar in the area than you, it just made sense to get back into the truck with him. That’s how you both rationalised it, as your eyes sparked with interest and entertainment whenever they met. Just made sense.
From that day, Lee’s truck became the closest you had had to a home in months. Maybe even years.
The miles between you and the world grew, but so did the distance between you and the versions of yourselves you left behind. You had nothing to offer each other apart from company, and nothing to lose from spending your days with one another. 
It became easy, almost too easy. Long stretches of road, music humming through the truck's radio, filling the space between the two of you. Conversations about nothing that meant everything — favorite songs, old memories that still hurt, silly stories from childhood, tragedies that were so massive it became intrinsically hilarious to you both, Stories you told in the dead of night when the world felt softer, more forgiving. 
Lee felt true in a way no other had. His company was comfortable, natural. A genuine friend that you could tease, maybe even flirt with a little when the mood struck. Nothing serious you would say. All in good fun, teenagers cruising through the Midwestern countryside.
It felt like forever, though it had only been a few weeks. The truck was a much better bed than the thin blanket you had relied on since you left the house you grew up in. You’d sleep in the backseat, sometimes curled up in the trunk with blankets piled up like a nest. On rare occasions, when exhaustion weighed you both down, you’d spring for a cheap motel, a temporary reprieve from the road.
The more you got to know Lee, the more that sense you had gotten about him on the night you met grew. Something was different about him, something you could taste on your tongue, a kind of unspoken understanding that simmered beneath the surface. You couldn’t explain it, not exactly, but there was something in Lee that reminded you of someone else. It wasn’t just the way he moved or the sharp look in his eyes – it was the way he held himself, the way he watched people, sizing them up like he knew more about them than they’d ever want to know.
You had known someone like that before.
Your uncle.
Your family never talked about him, not after he disappeared, but you remembered the day it happened like a movie in your mind. The last time you saw him. He had come to visit, just passing through, or so he said. You were young, but not young enough to forget the blood that stained his clothes, how his face was drawn, pale, like he was barely holding it together. How his teeth were off-white in a way you had never seen before. He had brushed it off when you asked him, saying he had gotten into a fight, nothing serious, but the way he smelled… it stuck with you.
The metallic tang of blood, the way it clung to him even after he cleaned up, how his eyes seemed wild and unfocused in the dim light of the kitchen. You could never explain it to someone without sounding insane. But yet somehow, you knew what he was. You knew.
Your parents didn’t say much about it then. They just watched him with wary eyes, their faces tight with something close to fear, though they never admitted it. When he left, they didn’t even look at that, and once he was gone they removed all photographs. They never mention him again, not even when you asked. It was like he had never existed. Like he had never even been part of the family.
You never met someone like him again, someone you could feel deep in your bones.
Until Lee. The Lee you looked at as he drove nonchalantly down roads, almost too relaxed to be sitting in a driver’s seat. He made all those pieces you had tucked away begin to slot together, forming a picture that put words to your instincts. The way your uncle had looked that night, the way your own body sometimes seemed to hum with something restless, it was all there, just waiting for you to acknowledge it.
You did not bring it up to him, it never seemed natural. And honestly, you didn’t feel the need to. For some reason, the idea of it all didn’t bother you. Lee was just Lee still, your road companion.
One night, you and Lee had parked the truck somewhere far off the main road, the stars stretched out like a tapestry above you. It was late, the kind of late where the world felt quieter, where the darkness seemed deeper, more honest. You were lying on a blanket in the bed of the truck, side by side, the silence between you comfortable but heavy, like something was waiting to be said.
The two of you had shared a lot already, more than you thought you had in you to share. He was still technically a strange man to you, it had not yet been a month. Still, you felt a bond with him you could not explain. His presence brought you peace in a world too large for you to grasp.
You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, the way his fingers twitched restlessly by his side, like he was working through something in his head. Lee had been quieter than usual lately, more thoughtful, more distant. You didn’t push him – he was always like that, a little withdrawn when he was trying to sort through whatever was going on in his head. But tonight, it felt different. More pointed.
Finally, he broke the silence.
"Do you… know?"
The question caught you off guard. It was so vague, so quiet, that for a second, you weren’t sure if you had heard him right. You turned your head to look at him, but his eyes were still fixed on the stars above, his expression unreadable in the dim light. There was something in his tone, though. Cautious, like he wasn’t sure how you would answer. Like he was afraid to hear it.
You swallowed, your heart picking up speed. "Know what?"
His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tightening as he shifted slightly, still not looking at you. It seemed like he had hoped you would not ask. He was always careful, always measured with his words, but this time, you could tell he was holding something back. He exhaled slowly, and then, without turning his head, he said it again, this time more direct.
"About me. About what I am."
There was no uncertainty in you about what he was referring to. There it was, the thing you had been skirting around, the thing neither of you had spoken aloud. You knew, deep down, that this conversation had been coming for a while, with all the time you spent together, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt like a stone settling in your chest.
Your mind raced, memories of your uncle flashing through your thoughts, the blood on his hands, the way your parents had never spoken about him again. The way it all lingered in you like electricity. 
You nodded slowly, your voice quiet. "Yeah. I know."
Lee didn’t move, didn’t say anything for a moment, but you could feel the tension radiating off him, the way his body seemed to coil like a spring, ready to snap. His fingers drummed lightly against the truck bed, a habit he had when he was nervous, though he’d never admit it. 
You wondered how he knew to ask you, if he had seen it in your eyes. You guessed you could ask him. But this moment hung in the air between you with such fragility. It felt like something had shifted irreversibly between you, and you were not yet certain if it was a good thing or not.
When he finally spoke, his voice was rough, strained. "And you… don’t care? Or what? You don’t wanna leave?"
You turned to him fully, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at his face. The starlight cast shadows over his sharp features, but his eyes—his eyes were clear, burning with something raw, something vulnerable he never let anyone else see. They were straining to remain trained on the sky.
"I’m not scared of you, Lee," you said softly, your voice steady but firm. "Or of it. I know who you are. And I know you’re a good person."
Lee’s breath hitched, just for a moment, barely noticeable, but you caught it. His eyes finally flickered toward you, the walls he kept up so carefully starting to crack. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come. He just stared at you, a thousand thoughts racing behind his eyes, none of them quite making it out.
He swallowed hard, his voice dropping even lower when he finally spoke. "You don’t even know what I’ve done."
"I don’t need to," you said, your gaze locked on his. "I know you. I’ve been with you this long, and I think I have known all along. And I’m still here."
He stared at you for a long moment, his brow furrowed like he couldn’t believe what you were saying, like he was waiting for you to change your mind. But when you didn’t, when you just kept looking at him like none of it scared you, like you weren’t about to run, something in him seemed to shift. The tension in his shoulders eased, just a little, and he let out a slow, shaky breath.
"Why are you not afraid?" he asked, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.
You shook your head, almost wanting to laugh. “You’re just Lee to me.”
Lee looked away again, his eyes tracing the stars, but his mind was far from the night sky. The silence stretched between you once more, but this time, it wasn’t heavy with tension. It felt lighter. Like a weight had been lifted, even if he wasn’t ready to say it yet.
You settled back in beside him, arm grazing his. Comfortable. 
For the first time in a long while, Lee let himself relax. He was always aloof, physically all over the place, but his mind remained alert. Now, he let it fall onto the pillow your words provided. He realized then, though he didn’t say it out loud, that the tightness in his chest, the thing he had been fighting for weeks, it wasn’t just nothing. He didn’t want to think the word, let alone say it. It had crept in slowly, so quietly that he hadn’t noticed it until it was staring him in the face. 
Love didn’t feel safe to him. Love was complicated, messy. Dangerous, even. And yet, here you were, sitting beside him, telling him you weren’t afraid, telling him you knew who he was and that it didn’t matter. That you’d stay.
It was a feeling he didn’t know how to name. Not yet.
He turned back to you, his eyes softer now, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You’re really not gonna leave, huh?"
You laughed a little at how he shared it like a revelation, shaking your head. "Nope. You’re stuck with me."
Lee let out a breathy laugh, a sound that seemed to ease the last bit of tension between you. He looked at you, really looked at you, and for the first time since he met you, he felt something close to hope. He didn’t say it, but in that moment, he knew he’d do whatever it took to keep you by his side.
"I could get used to that," he murmured, his voice quiet but sincere.
And as the two of you sat there, side by side under the stars, the unspoken understanding between you deepened, solidified. You weren’t leaving. You weren’t afraid. And for Lee, that was enough.
You fell asleep side by side, just you and the stars.
***
Nights passed like that, over weeks and months, with you and him slowly gravitating closer. 
Whether it be in the seats of the truck or the trunk, you always slept near each other. Originally you slept on either side of the trunk, or in each your seat, but as you spent most of your nights talking until either one of you passed out, it just felt natural to be close by.
Waking up with your limbs accidentally having gotten entangled, faces closer than you ever would be when conscious became a norm. The first time it happened, Lee woke first, but did not move until you woke, revelling in the touch of your body against his. Eyes studying your calm face, fully convinced this would be his only opportunity to be this close to you. When you came to, he pretended your movements woke him.
Neither of you spoke of it. There was no need to. Some things didn’t need words.
The more you got used to waking up entangled, the more intimate it became. You would find yourself laying on top of Lee’s chest, or his face would be tucked into the crook of your neck. Once this started happening, you both happened to begin to prefer sleeping in the trunk.
Despite your increasing comfort with each other, the nights were never completely peaceful. Sometimes you would wake up to find him gone, wandering somewhere. It was usually in the aftermath of a nightmare, but you also knew that he sometimes had other reasons for being gone.
You woke up in the middle of the night, the truck’s trunk feeling too empty, too cold. Instinctively, your hand reached over the space where Lee usually lay beside you, but all you felt was the crumpled fabric of his jacket. He wasn’t there. For a few seconds, you blinked in the darkness, groggy, your mind slow to catch up with the situation. The air felt wrong, too still, too quiet. That was when you noticed the faint sounds of movement just beyond the trees, down near the creek.
When possible, you two tried to park near a body of water, so you had the opportunity to wash up. You had also mentioned to Lee how relaxing you found lakes, and he started planning his routes around it after that.
You could hear heavy breathing and splashing by the water. Without thinking, you slipped out of the trunk, pulling on one of Lee’s hoodies he had discarded beside your blankets, and you quietly padded down toward the sounds. The moon hung low over the horizon, casting long shadows across the water, and that was when you saw him.
Lee was crouched near the edge of the creek, his shoulders tense, his hands dipped in the water. The pale light from the moon caught on his skin, but more than that, it illuminated the dark smudges smeared across his neck and arms. Blood.
He had not heard you yet, too focused on what he was doing – trying to scrub the blood away with frantic, almost desperate movements. He was shaking, his body too tense, like he was on the verge of unraveling. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, the material soaked in water and blood. His hair, usually a mess of carefully maintained chaos, stuck to his forehead in sweat-soaked strands.
For a moment, you didn’t move. You just watched him, heart aching at how broken he looked. It wasn’t like the Lee you were used to. This wasn’t the confident, quippy guy who could brush off anything with a smirk. No, this was the other side of him, the side he didn’t let you see. The one that carried all the weight of what he did, of who he was. The one that bled in more ways than just physically.
“Lee?” Your voice was soft, careful. You didn’t want to startle him, but you couldn’t just stand there, watching him like this.
He froze for a moment, his hands stilling in the water. He didn’t look up at you right away, just stared down at his own reflection rippling in the creek. “Go back to the truck,” he said, his voice rough, a little shaky. “I’m fine.”
But you could hear it. He wasn’t fine. Not even close.
A closer look at where he was sitting, you could see that he wasn’t fine physically either, his torn shirt revealing scratches across his upper body, bruises already forming along his arms in the moonlight. Whoever encountered your Lee tonight had put up a fight.
You ignored him, stepping closer, your bare feet sinking into the wet grass near the water’s edge. “You’re hurt.”
He let out a harsh breath, finally looking up at you. His face was pale, a little gaunt under the moonlight. His eyes, usually so sharp and full of something unreadable, were glassy. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, turning back to the water. “I’m just cleaning up.”
But you could see the way his hands trembled, how his movements were too rough, too quick, like he was trying to scrub the guilt away more than the blood. You stepped closer until you were beside him, crouching down at his level.
“Lee, look at me.”
He didn’t. His jaw tightened, and he kept scrubbing, the water turning pink as it mixed with the blood on his skin. 
"Lee," you said again, firmer this time, reaching out to gently touch his arm. 
He finally stopped, his hands hovering just above the surface of the water, but still wouldn’t look at you. “You weren’t supposed to see this,” he muttered, voice raw. “You weren’t supposed to—” He cut himself off, his shoulders hunching forward like he was folding into himself. “Shit.”
"What is wrong with me seeing this?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the outline of a bruise forming along his arm. "Why do you have to fix it yourself?"
He swallowed hard, still staring at the water. "Because you don’t need to deal with this. With me. You didn’t sign up for… any of this." His voice wavered at the edges, frustration mixing with exhaustion.
You shook your head, biting back the sting in your own chest. "You think I care about blood? About this? I knew what I was getting into, I told you so. If you’re hurt, I want to help."
He finally looked at you then, his expression flickering with something like disbelief. “You shouldn’t have to… see me like this. Like some… fuckin’ monster. No, no.”
“You’re not a monster,” you said firmly, and you didn’t waver. You tightened your grip on his forearm. You could see the bruises, the blood streaking down his neck in shapes that looked like somebody had scratched at him, put up a fight. You saw the way he clenched his jaw like he was holding everything in, trying not to crack open. You saw the way his eyes flickered with guilt, shame, like he couldn’t stand himself in that moment. The same boy that laughed with you in the car, who played jokes on strangers. Who usually tried to seem totally content with this lifestyle of his.
"Yes, I am," he whispered, his voice breaking. "You don’t… understand what it’s like. To have to do this, to –"
"I don’t have to understand everything," you cut him off, your hand sliding up to his neck, gently brushing through his damp hair. "But I know you. And I know you don’t have to do this alone. That is my choice, and I choose to be here for you."
He let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing for a brief moment like he was trying to pull himself together. But when he opened them again, you saw the vulnerability in them, the rawness that he tried so hard to keep hidden. He was struggling, fighting to keep himself together, to not fall apart in front of you.
You sat down beside him fully now, your knees brushing his, your hand still resting at the back of his neck. “Let me help.”
He hesitated, his pride fighting against the offer, but he was too tired to resist for long. Slowly, he nodded, his body slumping in defeat as he let you take over.
You helped him take of his torn t-shirt, leaving him bare to reflect the moonlight, and dipped it into the creek. The cold water soaking through the fabric as you carefully brought it back up to his skin, gently wiping away the dried blood from his face, his arms. He winced slightly when you dabbed at a few deeper cuts near his ribs, but he didn’t pull away.
"You don’t have to pretend with me," you said quietly, your eyes focused on cleaning him up. "You don’t have to be strong all the time."
Lee didn’t respond right away. He just watched you, his eyes following the way you moved, the way your touch was soft, careful. He let out a low breath, something like relief mixing with the exhaustion in his voice. “I hate that you’re seeing me like this.”
“Why?” You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re hurt? Or because you’re human?”
He laughed roughly at that, shaking his head slightly. “I haven’t felt human in a long time.”
You paused, your hand stilling for a moment before you continued cleaning the blood from his neck. “You feel human to me.”
He went quiet again, his eyes studying you, the way you didn’t flinch, didn’t shy away from the mess of him. For a long time, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the gentle ripple of the creek as you worked, the soft splash of water as you wrung out the bloody fabric.
“He-” Lee began but his voice broke. You were patient, continuing to tend to him as he seemed to wrestle with whether to continue the sentence. Eventually: “He was a bad guy. I always try to make sure they are.”
It broke your heart to hear the pleading undertone of what he was saying. What he was trying to convey to you.
You weren’t entirely sure what the best response was, but you settled on telling him you believed him.
When you were done, you leaned back slightly, your hands resting on your thighs as you looked him over. He still had some bruises that would take time to heal, but most of the blood was gone, his skin clean again under the moonlight. None of his scratches were in need of any serious medical intervention, but you made a mental note to stop by a pharmacy in the morning regardless.
“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek. “Better.”
Lee stared at you for a moment longer, his eyes flickering with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, without warning, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. His voice was barely above a whisper when he spoke. “You shouldn’t have to take care of me like this.”
You closed your eyes, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders. “I want to.”
For a long moment, he didn’t move, just stayed there, eyes closed and his forehead resting against yours. His breath slowly steadying as he let himself lean on you, just for a little while.
“Thank you,” he murmured, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.
You smiled slightly, your hand moving to the back of his neck again, gently threading your fingers through his hair. “I told you. You’re not alone.”
“Not alone,” he mumbled and wiggled his forehead against yours briefly before pulling back and getting up.
He stretched a hand out to you, ready to pull you back with him to the truck.
***
A few states had ended up in your rearview mirror since you turned that creek pink and your hearts slightly softer. The atmosphere between you had shifted yet again, growing deeper and deeper each time. There was no acknowledgement of it, but there didn’t need to be. In the unspokeness, you could grow bolder. The touches, the glances, they took up more and more space in your increasingly small truck. You would yet again wake up in each other’s arms, and it no longer felt accidental.
It was the small things, too. The way his hand would brush yours when you walked side by side, or how he let his fingers linger a moment longer when you passed him something. The way your legs would press together in the truck when you shared the cramped front seat, neither of you moving away. Sometimes, when the truck was pulled off the road and you were both leaning against it, talking under the stars, his knee would bump against yours, and instead of pulling back, he let it stay there.
It felt like you were both waiting for something. The tension was not sharp, it was warm, almost inviting. You both knew what was next, but neither of you had made the move to cross that last, thin line.
You and Lee had spent the evening like you always did—driving, talking, letting the hours slip away into easy silences and the occasional laugh. Planning where to head to next. You had decided to drive to see the silliest places you could find, asking random strangers was the weirdest tourist attraction they have heard of is. On the list is Ben and Jerry’s Flavor Graveyard, the world largest ball of paint and a nuclear waste adventure trail. The night had come over you, and you ended up parked on the outskirts of a town, the lights from them illuminating you even in the dark. The two of you sat on the hood of the truck, your legs dangling off the edge, shoulders brushing.
He was quieter tonight. You could sense it in the way his gaze kept drifting over to you, then back to the stars. His hand rested on the metal beside you, his fingers tapping a slow rhythm, like he was thinking through something he had not decided on yet. But it wasn’t the usual restlessness that seemed to rule Lee’s entire existence. This was something different. Something quieter.
You nudged him gently with your shoulder. “You’re awfully quiet for a guy who never shuts up.”
He huffed a laugh, his head tilting toward you, that familiar smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, I get that a lot.”
“Ironic, isn’t it?”
You smiled, your eyes catching the faint light of the stars reflecting in his. It was moments like this that you felt the pull most strongly – the way his face softened when he wasn’t trying to keep his guard up, the way he let you see parts of him he didn’t show anyone else. There was something magnetic about Lee when he wasn’t hiding. It made you want to keep his doors open, to take them off their hinges.
His hand shifted, almost imperceptibly, his fingers brushing against yours on the deck of the trunk. It was barely a touch, just the faintest hint of skin against skin, but you felt it like a jolt, a reminder of how close you both were. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. 
The silence stretched between you again, thick with something unspoken. It struck you how much serenity you felt in your soul in the silences with him, even when there was something brewing in it. You could feel him beside you, the warmth of him, the way his breath had slowed, his body still as if he was waiting for something.
Your fingers twitched, brushing against his again, and this time, you didn’t hesitate. You turned your hand over, palm up, an invitation as much as it was a question. Lee glanced down at your hand, and for a moment, you thought he might pull away, like he had so many times before. But instead, his fingers curled slowly around yours, his grip gentle but sure, and your breath caught in your throat.
Neither of you spoke. The understanding that had hung between you for weeks was right there, all you had to do was lean into it.
“Lee,” you whispered, not even sure what you were asking. You liked having his name in your mouth. 
He turned his body towards you at his name, shifting closer, eyes locked on yours. You could see the hesitation there, the way his brow furrowed slightly, like he was still fighting something inside himself, still holding back.
But you weren’t. Not anymore.
You leaned in, closing the space between you before you could second-guess yourself, your lips brushing his softly, testing. Just once, enough to give him an out, enough to say I’m here, if you are.
For a moment, nothing happened. Lee stayed perfectly still against you, his breath caught, his fingers tightening around yours. Then, slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned in further, his lips pressing back against yours, soft and warm. Open mouthed, lovingly.
It wasn’t rushed or desperate like you might have imagined. It was careful, deliberate, like he was letting himself feel it for the first time, like he wanted to make sure it was real. His free hand came up, brushing lightly against your jaw, his fingers tracing the edge of your face, almost as if he was afraid you might disappear if he didn’t hold on.
You deepened the kiss further, savouring his touches, the feeling of his tongue against yours. Your hand glided up to his chest, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. Slow but steady, the tension between you finally breaking in the gentlest way possible. It was like everything that had been building between you – every touch, every glance, every unspoken word – was spilling into that moment, into the way his lips moved against yours, into the way he held you like you were the only thing to hold.
When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, your breaths mingling in the cool night air. Lee’s eyes were still closed, his thumb brushing over your cheek as if grounding himself in the moment, his lips parted, trying to catch his breath.
You stayed like that for a while, it didn’t matter how long. Few things mattered, you had found. Lee did. 
When he finally opened his eyes, they were unguarded in a way you hadn’t seen before. He didn’t smile, but the look in his eyes said enough. He was here, with you, in whatever this was.
He whispered your name, a late response.
You hummed with a smile, your fingers still tangled in his shirt. No words were needed. There were none that could be said, not now, not yet. 
Lee chuckled softly, a sound that felt more like relief than anything else. He slid down from leaning against the truck, to laying on the deck, still not letting go of your hand. You followed suit, for the first time purposefully laying your body half on top of his, head resting on his chest. 
No more waiting.
There was a whole civilisation right before you, just out of reach, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t thinking about the next destination. You were here, together, and that was all that mattered.
***
Once that barrier was breached, you and Lee found yourself stealing kisses of varying intensity more often than not. There was no label on the two of you, with your pasts you both were guarded from being the first to admit the intensity behind your actions. Yet, the need to be close was not dissipating as the days passed, if anything it only grew the more of a taste you got for each other.
One night, you found yourselves at a dive bar on the edge of some no-name town. The music thumped through the walls, too loud and too fast, but it matched the energy buzzing between you and Lee. The dim lights made everything look a little hazy, like the whole world was moving in slow motion. Lee leaned against the bar, his back to the crowd, his eyes fixed on you as you stood close to him, sipping on a cheap cider that barely tasted like anything. He hadn’t drank much tonight, which made the way he was looking at you feel even more intense.
There was something magnetic about him, the way he carried himself, the way his arm seemed to naturally find its way around your shoulders when in public, protective and possessive without being overbearing. You could feel the heat of his skin through your clothes, and you leaned into it, enjoying the comfort of his touch. 
It was late, and the air between you was only magnifying your need for him, his fingers barely touching yours on the bartop like he was daring you to pull him closer. He only moved them to order another round from the bartender, shooting you a wicked grin.
“Thoughts?” he asked you as he handed you your new drink.
“This place isn’t too bad. The guy at the bar isn’t either.” The smile you flashed him was teasing and he all but rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, I guess we’re both alright.”
You were about to make some quip about his soft spot for dive bars when a figure caught your eye, and you tensed. A guy had sidled up to the bar a few feet away, his eyes fixed on you, too interested, too familiar. You glanced at Lee, but he was already clocking the guy, his body going still beside you, though his expression didn’t change.
The guy stumbled closer, his drink sloshing in his hand. “You two look like you’re having a good time,” he slurred, his gaze flicking between you and Lee with a smirk that made your skin crawl.
Lee’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away from the guy. His look could draw blood, but his voice stayed calm, almost flat. “We were.”
The guy either didn’t notice your discomfort and Lee’s adverse stance, or he just didn’t care. He leaned in a little closer, still grinning like this was all a joke. “Come on, man. Just trying to talk to her.”
You didn’t have time to respond before Lee shifted, his arm moving in one fluid motion to slide around your waist, pulling you against him in a way that felt natural, like he was drawing a line in the sand. “She’s not interested,” he said, voice low and steady, but you could feel the warning beneath the surface.
The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Lee’s calm intensity, and he let out a nervous laugh. “Hey, man, no need to get all protective. Just having fun.”
Lee kept staring him down, his grip on you tight, steadying you as much as he was putting space between you and the guy. “Well, you’re done,” he said, still in that same measured tone, like he wasn’t giving the guy a choice in the matter. “Go back to your drink.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender, backing off with a muttered, “Alright, alright. Chill.” Slunking back into the crowd, he cast a few annoyed glances over his shoulder, but lacked the bravery to follow up on his annoyance.
Lee’s body was still taut with that lingering tension, eyes scanning the room again before he finally let out a breath. He didn’t pull away from you though, his hand resting on your hip as if he needed the contact to remind himself that you were alright.
"You okay?" he asked quietly, his voice softer now as he finally looked down at you, concern flickering behind his eyes.
“Yeah,” you whispered, trying to take in what just happened and how swiftly Lee handled it. Never before have you gotten away from a situation with a creepy man so fast. 
“Are you?” you eventually asked, looking up to see his jaw still slightly clenched.
He nodded, his expression softening slightly as he glanced down to meet your eyes. "Yeah. Just don’t like guys like that."
You smiled a little, leaning into him, your hand resting lightly on his chest. "I noticed."
His lips quirked into a small grin, and it felt easy again, back to just the two of you, even in this crowded bar. "You ready to get out of here?" he asked, his voice low, his breath warm against your skin now that you stood so close.
“Think so.” You finished your drink and without another word, he took your hand, leading you out into the cool night air. 
The bar’s noise faded into the background as the two of you walked back to the truck, your fingers still intertwined with his. There was something about the way he was holding your hand that made your heart race. It was tighter than normal, his thumb brushing over your skin.
You stopped by the passenger side door and Lee immediatley closed the gap between you, pressing you gently against the side of the truck. His hands rested on your hips, it was as if he had realised he could place them there now. When his gaze met yours, his eyes flickered with something dangerous, something raw.
"You know," he murmured, his voice rough, "I will always protect you. In any situation.”
You almost didn’t know what to say. It was so simple, yet he poured so much emotion into those words, and you felt them entirely.
“I do know,” you whispered. “I have never felt safety like this before.” The last part felt like a confession more than an answer. 
Lee’s breath hitched and he laid his forehead against yours, leaning more of his body against yours, so you were flush between him and the metal of the car.
“I’ve been trying not to kiss you all night. You’ve made it difficult.” Lee looked into your eyes as he said it, searching your face for a reaction. His pupils were wide, gaze intense.
You felt a shiver run through you at his words, the heat between you burning brighter. "Then stop trying."
He didn’t need any more encouragement. His lips crashed into yours with a force that knocked the breath out of you, one hand sliding up to grip your face while the other remained held your hips tighter, closer. His kisses were always languid, open-mouthed and passionate. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair and pulling at it as you kissed him back with equal intensity, your body arching against his. His mouth was warm and demanding, and when he kissed you, it felt like everything else in the world fell away.
The kiss deepened quickly, his hands moving up under your shirt, the cool air mixing with the heat of his touch. His mouth trailed down to your jaw, your neck, each kiss igniting sparks along your skin. You gasped softly, tilting your head to give him better access, your fingers travelling to dig into the skin of his back
"God," he murmured against your skin, his voice rough and breathless, like he could barely control himself.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, merging under the stars, the truck a silent witness to the way your bodies moved together, the way you couldn’t seem to get close enough. You lost track of time, lost track of everything except the feeling of his lips on yours, his hands on your skin. He was beginning to become your Lee.
***
Living with Lee changed you in many ways, but the most important was that for the first time in your life, you felt free. Whether it was the boy’s attitude or his attentiveness to you, or the roads that stretched for miles like ink on paper, you settled into your own body and existence. You owned yourself and your destiny in a way you didn’t think possible.
As you shared more of yourselves with each other, you realised just how repressed you had been, just how much of you had been shut off. In your newfound safety in Lee, you could open up.
Things long locked away were stirring within you. Some painful, some exciting. And some, you didn’t have the words to describe yet.
For the time being, you were on a quest to a museum of the history of cheese that an old lady at a café had been raving to you about. It was another state over, but this sweet woman insisted it was worth it, and as you were the ones who asked her about a recommendation, you felt it only right to trust her word.
On the way there, you were stopping in a typical shittown, the kind where nothing really happens but somehow everyone knows everyone else’s business. Craving excitement after a long day in the car with your feet in Lee’s lap, you asked him to go looking through town for something to do. There was a bonfire party that night, something thrown together by a group of locals, and you figured that would do.
 The fire crackled in the center of the gathering in the middle of the forest, the air heavy with smoke and alcohol. Lee’s arm was slung loosely around your shoulders as you walked through, scouting the place.
"You wanna stay long?" he asked, voice low in your ear.
You shook your head, leaning into him a little. "Nah. Let’s just see how it goes."
He nodded, but you could feel the tension in him, like he was always keeping one eye on the crowd. That protective streak ran deep in him, and you couldn’t help but wonder where it came from.
The two of you settled down on a log by the fire, chatting with some locals and getting your kick out of listening to them drawl away about town drama. A man had been circling where you were sat, both you and Lee noticed, but he never approached.
Needing to get some water from the truck, you squeezed Lee’s leg and told him you’d be right back.
He let his arm fall from around you to let you up, but looked at you with concern. “Don’t be long.” You just smiled. He watched you go, his eyes lingering on you longer than you realized.
You were walking back with water in hand, still on the outskirts of the bonfire and shielded from view when you saw the man coming up towards you. He looked the exact same as every man who had been a bother to you since you began life on your own and your stomach soured.
"Hey," the guy’s voice was a slurred mix of alcohol and bravado, his grin too wide, too familiar. "Why’d you leave your pretty boy toy behind? Done with him and ready for me?"
Your skin prickled with unease, but you forced yourself to stay calm. “I’m good. You should head back.”
He ignored you, stepping closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re vibing, right?"
He reached for you, his hand brushing your arm, and you jerked back instinctively. “Don’t touch me.”
The grin on his face faltered, replaced with something darker. “You’re just playing hard to get,” he muttered, his voice low and threatening now. "Girls like you always do."
“Back off!” you tried, but he took quick steps toward you.
Your heart raced, and before you could step away, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist with bruising force. You twisted, trying to wrench yourself free, but he was stronger than he looked. His other hand moved to his pocket, and when he pulled out the glint of a blade, panic surged through you.
"Stop –"
"You’re not going anywhere –"
What happened next was a blur—a clash of instincts, fear driving your body into overdrive. He lifted the knife towards your throat, likely to threathen and not harm in the moment, but you could not wait to see how that would turn out. Your body moved before your mind could catch up, your hands lashed out, grabbing his wrist with one and prying the knife away with another. Suddenly the blade was in your hand, and when he threw himself on top of you, you shoved him off with one hand and used the knife with the other. 
It found its home in his neck.
You scrambled away, not yet realising what had just happened. At your hands. You stared at him in shock where he laid in front of you, the sounds sickening, wet gurgle as his throat opened up. Blood poured out in a thick stream, hot and fast, soaking his shirt.
In shock and desperation, you grabbed at the wound as if to counteract what you had just done, but he took that opportunity to grab you by the hair and neck, attempting to choke you. Fear surged through you once more, but his once-hard grip was already weakening and you could wrestle free.
By the time you recovered and looked up, the life had drained from his eyes. All you could hear was your breathing and the pulse in your head.
You could smell the blood. On your hands, on his clothes, still oozing from his wound. It was dizzying, the world becoming distant as you were trapped inside this bubble that consisted of the two of you. You and the corpse.
You realised you had never seen a corpse before, not in person. Smelling fresh blood was different from smelling it once it had harkened on Lee’s skin. Not even the thought of Lee could drag you out of the state you were slowly being pulled into.
Without fully acknowledging your movements, you moved back towards the man, the one who had wished you dead and died by his own knife. Your eyes were fixated on his wound, something building inside of you at a rapid speed. A coil built in your stomach, one you had known was there for essentially forever, without the ability to give it a name.
It snapped. And as it did, you leaned down and sunk your teeth into his neck.
Everything felt right, not the kind of comfortable right you had developed with Lee, it felt like your body was finally getting air after a long period of suffocation, it felt like water after a long run. It felt like a meal after having been starving.
Your face was buried further and further in the flesh, your mind completely void of all thoughts. Just your fingers and teeth, blood and bone. Feral, instinctive, lost in the hunger that just kept building, like it was never enough. 
"Shit."
A switch went off, and you were snapped back to reality. The smell of forest pine and moss, bonfire and smoke crept back in. As you slowly lifted your gaze, you saw him standing at the edge of the clearing, eyes wide, his face pale in the moonlight. His gaze was locked on you, and for the first time since you met him, you saw real shock on his face. Not fear exactly, but something close. Something you didn’t expect.
Horror.
“Lee…” Your voice broke, barely a whisper. The reality of what you’d just done hit you all at once, crashing into you like a wave. “Oh, God.”
Your eyes flashed back down and suddenly it was as if you realised you had a corpse at your feet. You scrambled backwards, breathing quickening, horrified and lost. You stared at your hands as tears were beginning to blur your vision, only worsened by how you couldn’t even see your skin’s colour through all the blood. Small curses kept spilling out past your lips as your eyes darted between the man, your hands and Lee.
“I– I didn’t mean to, I–” Your voice broke.
Lee took a step forward, his face still a mask of shock. For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in place, staring at the blood smeared across your skin. He’d always sensed something in you, always felt that you and him were the same in some way, but this… this was different. He hadn’t smelled it on you before. He had no idea.
“I didn’t– I don’t know what happened, I just–” You couldn’t make sense of it. Of anything. Your world was turned upside down.
“Hey.” Lee had made his way over to you, sitting on his knees in front of you. His voice snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts, low and firm but not harsh. He closed the distance between you grabbing your arm, pulling you up from the ground. His grip was steady, but there was urgency in it now. “We gotta go.”
You blinked at him, still in shock, the reality of what you’d done slowly settling in. “But –”
“I know, I know, okay?” He pulled on a piece of hair plastered to your skin by blood, tucking it behind your hair. “I get it. But we gotta go. Now.” His voice cut through your haze of confusion and guilt. He didn’t wait for you to respond, didn’t give you the chance to argue. He grabbed you by the waist, practically lifting you off your feet as he dragged you away from the body and into the trees.
The world around you blurred as he pulled you through the forest, his grip firm, unyielding. The pounding in your head drowned out everything else– the sound of the party, the crackle of the bonfire, the smell of blood still clinging to you. All you could think about was what you had just done. What it meant. What you were.
By the time you reached the truck, you were shaking, your breath coming in short, panicked gasps. Lee shoved you into the passenger seat, his hand still gripping your arm like he was afraid you might bolt. He climbed in beside you, slamming the door shut, his face hard and unreadable as he started the engine.
For a while, there was nothing but the hum of the road, the world outside the truck a blur of dark trees and empty stretches of highway. Lee didn’t say anything, his eyes locked on the road ahead, his grip tight on the wheel. Mind racing almost as fast as the car, as he sped down the highway, determined to get as far away from the scene as possible. You sat beside him, leaning your head on the dashboard in front of you as you tried to gather yourself. Your hands still trembling, blood still drying on your skin. 
You could barely breathe, the walls of the truck closing in around you. The reality of what you had done hit you again, harder this time. You had killed someone. Eaten someone.
You choked on a sob, tears already streaking the blood on your face. Your chest was tightening, your vision blurring. “Lee, I–”
There was no way for you to finish the sentence.
With your eyes clenched shut, hidden away, making yourself as small as possible in your seat, you couldn’t see the pained look he gave you. He needed to protect you by putting distance between you and the crime. But all he wanted was to pull you close.
“It’s okay. I will stop as soon as I can. It’s okay.” 
Eventually he caught eye of a discreet sideroad and veered the truck down it as fast as possible. He slammed on the brakes, parking the car on a plot of grass by a river. The engine cut off, leaving the night in a sudden, heavy silence. In the blink of an eye, Lee was out of the truck, opening your door to pull you out as well. You were too out of it, not processing anything that was happening. He ended up scooping you into his arms and carrying you bridal style down to the riverside. 
One bloody bride that is.
He sat you down by the water, his hands still firm on your arms, not giving you room to break down yet. "Sit here." His voice was softer now, but still edged with urgency. He knelt beside you, shrugging off his jacket and dipping it into the water. The cold night air hit your skin, but you barely felt it, still lost in the haze of panic.
You sat there, frozen, as he started to clean the blood off your hands, your arms, your face, as carefully as he could when hurrying. His touch was careful, deliberate, the way it had been when you first found him at the creek, battered and trying to clean himself up. But there was something different this time, something softer, more protective, like he wasn’t just cleaning the blood away, but trying to take some of the weight of it with him. Like he was saying, You don’t have to carry this alone. His jaw was clenched, eyes focused entirely on you, like he was trying to fix you, trying to put you back together piece by piece.
“Lee,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Am I–?” You couldn’t finish the sentence.
He paused, his hands stilling for just a second before he looked up at you. His expression softened, something breaking in his eyes. He reached up with a wet hand, brushing over your cheek and simultaneously cleaning some blood off. "You don’t have to be scared of it," he murmured, his voice low, steady. "Or of me."
You blinked, tears welling in your eyes. "I don’t understand."
“I’m here.” His fingers remained on your face, wiping away the tears before they could fall too far. “I’m not going anywhere. You hear me?”
You gave a faint nod. 
For a long moment, neither of you said anything, the weight of what had just happened hanging between you. He kept trying to get as much blood as possible off you, making you presentable again both in case someone saw you and to help you feel normal again. He didn’t try to explain it, didn’t try to rationalize it. 
“I didn’t mean to,” you whispered, your voice cracking. “He attacked me, I protected myself and then, then–”
“I know,” he said quietly, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “I know.”
Lee made sure your face and hands were free from blood, and then he helped you out of your stained sweater, leaving you in just your top underneath. He discarded it quick and turned back to you, grabbing your shaking hands.
“We need to move again, sweetheart” he said, voice low but certain. “We can’t stay too close.”
He stood up, reaching out to pull you up with him. His movements were quiet, purposeful. He didn’t rush you, but there was a tension in the air now, like he was calculating the next move. You could tell his mind was already working ahead, mapping out the quickest way to get you both far from the scene, far from the mess you left behind.
Your legs wobbled as you stood, your body still weak from the adrenaline crashing out of your system, but Lee’s grip on you was firm, guiding you back toward the truck. He opened the passenger door, helping you in before sliding into the driver’s seat. He tentatively took your hand with the one that wasn’t on the steering wheel, rubbing circles on it with his thumb as a silent comfort. The truck rumbled to life beneath you, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of the engine, drowning out the thoughts you didn’t want to face.
"I didn’t know it would feel like this," you whispered once you were back on the road, your voice shaking. "I never… I didn’t think I’d ever be like this."
Lee was quiet for a moment, his eyes trained on the road, like he was thinking carefully about what to say next. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and steady, though there was something distant in it, like he was pulling from his own memories. "First time I fed… I couldn’t stop shaking afterward. Not ‘cause of the blood. It was the way it felt. Right and wrong all at once. Like it was something I was supposed to be ashamed of, but my body just didn’t care."
You swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting you in a way that made your chest tighten. It was exactly how you felt – the rush of power, the satisfaction of feeding, mixed with the horror of what you had done. You had never wanted this, but it was like your body had decided for you.
"I didn’t want to stop," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I didn’t even think about it. I just… gave in."
Lee turned to you, his eyes soft but serious, and for a moment, you could see the weight of his own guilt mirrored in his expression. "That’s what it does. That’s what the hunger is." He paused, his jaw clenching briefly before he continued. "It takes over. And once it does… it’s like you don’t have a choice anymore. You just need."
You shivered, wrapping an arm around your stomach, trying to shake off the phantom feeling of the blood on your skin, the taste of it still faint on your lips. "I’m going to need it now,” you said, the realisation setting in. “How do I handle that?”
He exhaled slowly, and you saw the streetlights reflected in his eyes as they grew somewhat glossy. "You learn. Little by little. You get to know the hunger, learn how to control it instead of letting it control you. I will help you with it. You won’t do it alone.”
The tears you’d been holding back started to spill over, and you turned away, trying to hide your face. "I don’t really know what to do with myself now.”
He remained quiet, just held your hand tighter. 
For a long while, you just sat there, letting the silence and the weight of his words wash over you. The night felt vast around you, you realised now that Lee had rolled down the windows for you. Likely to help you breathe better. You should have known Lee would understand, because of course he would. Yet, there had been fear that he would be angry, disgusted. He wasn’t, not even a little bit. If anything, he was calm. Steady. Like this wasn’t something that could break you.
He built a little bit of confidence you, even as you felt your insides caving in.
The road stretched out ahead of you in silence, the dark trees a blur outside the windows. Lee was counting the miles until it would be safe to stop for the night, just a little bit longer. The truck was filled by spiraling thoughts from you both.
Lee had to stop himself from going down a rabbithole of blaming himself. Thinking that he influenced you, that maybe, if you hadn’t met him you never would have discovered this part of you. He wanted to hate himself, he wanted to break down, but with every glance over at you he knew he couldn’t. Your feelings were what mattered tonight. He knew he needed to keep it together to guide you through it. 
You had been crying on and off for the past hour, struggling with too many emotions at once. To process the assault and the intense fear you felt. Guilt consumed you, but not necessarily for killing the man, as you knew you had to, but then you felt guilty about your lack of guilt, and it was a never ending spiral. You felt horrible about feeding on him, about the discovery that you were an eater. When it was Lee it didn’t bother you, because, as you had come to realise, you just loved him. You know he is good. But you? That one was harder.
Then, your mind went to more practical matters. You had killed someone, feasted upon their body and then abandoned it. There were so many layers of illegal in those actions, and a new kind of fear and panic grabbed you.
Lee had seen these emotions develop in his peripheral, subconsciously speeding a bit faster, looking for somewhere safe to stop.
Your chest began to tighten, the panic from earlier threatening to bubble up. “Lee…” Your voice cracked, barely holding itself together. “What if someone finds out?”
He glanced at you briefly, his face unreadable. “They won’t.”
“But–”
“We’re not going back. Not to that town, not anywhere near it.” His voice was firm, cutting through your panic with the same intensity he had used earlier. “By the time they realize anything, we’ll be long gone. We’re already long gone.”
His words were meant to be comforting, but they didn’t settle the storm in your chest. You squeezed your hands together, spotting some leftover blood around your cuticle. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, like the air in the truck was too thick, too stifling. The man’s corpse was laying on top of your lungs and you were suffocating.
“Lee… I…” You gasped, scratching at your skin, your vision starting to blur. You couldn’t catch your breath, couldn’t think past the overwhelming guilt, the horror of what you’d done.
He called your name, but you couldn’t register anything anymore.
The truck swerved again as Lee pulled off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulled up to a small clearing, hidden behind a stretch of trees. An answered prayer. 
He immediatley turned to you, his brow furrowed with concern, his voice steady but laced with urgency. "Hey. Hey, breathe. Sweetheart, I think you’re having a panic attack."
You tried to speak, but your words got caught and you were doubling over in the space that felt more and more confining.
In a swift motion, Lee had pulled you over the console and into his lap, opening the door beside him to let in as much air as possible. He held you securely, tight grip meant to ground you as he tried to talk you down.
With a hand on your cheek, he made you meet his eyes. "Look at me. You gotta breathe, okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Focus on me."
You tried, but the panic had taken hold, your mind spiraling out of control. "I killed him. I killed him, and–"
"I know," Lee cut you off, his voice soft but firm. "You did. But it’s fine. It is fine, you are fine. I know. But you’re gonna be okay. You’re not in danger. Just breathe. Please breathe."
His words didn’t allow for you to argue, quelling your disagreements before you could make them. He cupped your face, stroking his thumb along your jaw, and exaggerated his breathing so you could follow it. In and out. He was so close, his eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, all you could focus on was him. He was pulling you back from the edge.
"Breathe," he repeated, his voice a low murmur. "That’s all you need to do right now."
You closed your eyes, following his lead, trying to pull air into your lungs the way he told you. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. Slowly, painfully, the tightness in your heart began to ease, your breath coming in shaky but more controlled gasps.
When you opened your eyes again, Lee was still watching you, his hand still gently cupping your face, his thumb brushing away the tears you hadn’t noticed falling. "There you go." His voice barely above a whisper. "Just like that."
You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch, your body still trembling but no longer on the verge of breaking. "I’m sorry," you whispered, your voice fragile and raw.
Lee shook his head, his gaze softening as he looked at you. "Don’t be. You didn’t do anything wrong."
You wanted to argue, to tell him that you had done something wrong, something unforgivable, but the way he was looking at you – like you weren’t broken, like you weren’t some monster, made the words die in your throat.
"I’ve got you," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours. "I always got you. You’re good."
The weight of his words, the certainty in them, settled deep in your chest, pushing back the panic, the fear. You weren’t alone in this. You had Lee. You always had Lee.
You stayed like that for a while, just sitting in his lap in the truck, your breath finally steadying as the night stretched out around you. You didn’t notice how hard you were holding onto Lee, clutching his shirt and even some skin, but he didn’t say anything either. He just stayed beside you, his hands never leaving you, grounding you, pulling you back from the edge every time the panic threatened to take over again.
You breathed together. Through it all.
After what felt like hours, he finally spoke, his voice quiet but sure. "Let’s get settled down, okay?”
You nodded, too tired to argue, too drained to do anything but follow his lead. Lee helped you out of the seat, his arm steady around your waist as he guided you down. He went around the truck, gathering the blankets from the backseat, more than he would usually grab, and set up your usual makeshift bed in the trunk as quickly as possible.
Together, you climbed into the softness he had created just for you. It felt odd to do something so familiar when it felt like everything had changed. Lee had not, still watching you, as he leaned back against the cab of the truck. You pulled on one of his sweaters, settling in beside him. He tangled your feet together and grabbed your hand, but didn’t initiate more than that, expectantly waiting for you to process your thoughts out loud with him.
Your eyes were slightly glossy again when you whispered, "Thank you."
He shook his head, immediately softening. "You don’t have to thank me."
"I do," you whispered, your voice catching. "You didn’t have to do any of this. And you did."
Lee’s hand tightened slightly on your knee, his thumb brushing over the fabric of your pants. "Of course," he said, his voice low but firm. "You’re stuck with me, remember?"
A small, broken laugh escaped you, something warm flickering in your chest. You looked up at him, tears blurring your vision, but there was a kind of quiet relief there, too. Lee’s gaze was steady, unwavering, like no matter what had happened, no matter how far you had fallen, he was there to pull you back.
"Lee…" you started, but the words caught in your throat, too many emotions swirling inside you to put into words.
He seemed to understand anyway. Without saying anything, he angled himself more towards you, his forehead resting against yours. The closeness, the way his body pressed gently into yours everywhere, was enough to calm the last of your racing thoughts. You let out a shaky breath, your hands reaching up to gently hold his face, your fingers brushing through his hair.
For a moment, you just stayed like that, your breaths mingling, the world narrowing down to just the two of you.
"I’ve got you," he whispered, his voice so soft it was almost lost to the night air. "You’re safe."
Something in his voice, the way he said it, made your heart clench. He had never said it out loud, but you knew. He tipped your chin up, meeting your lips with a searing kiss, one that felt like promise. 
It felt like forever before he pulled away, far enough to be able to see your eyes, searching your face for more hurt to quench. You could see his bottom lip quivering slightly before he said it.
"I love you.” 
Life stilled in the small clearing, and the weight of the past year came tumbling down on you. All you had done, all that had changed. How painful it had all been. How worth it it all was, to be sitting here in this boy’s arms now.
You took him in, your breath shaky. His words hung in the air between you, raw and real in a way that made your pulse race. 
He smiled, understanding your reaction. His forehead went back to yours, his hands cradling your face gently, his thumbs tracing slow, soothing circles against your skin. There was nothing aloof about him now. He was all here, in this moment, focused on you like nothing else mattered. "I'm serious," he murmured, his voice soft, the vulnerability in it something you'd never heard before. "I love you."
Your throat tightened, grappling with the weight of it all. "Still?" you whispered, your voice trembling. 
His grip tightened slightly, pulling you closer, his breath warm against your lips. "You think this scares me? You think any of this changes how I feel about you?" His gaze was intense, a burning passion that steadied you, even as your heart threatened to tear itself apart. "You’re still you. This doesn’t make you someone else. So, yeah. Still. Always."
Your heart soared, a flood of emotions you hadn’t expected surging to the surface. You kissed him again, slowly, just lips pressed against lips as you tried to calm yourself.  "I don’t know what life looks like for us now.”
"Then we’ll figure it out," he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like there had never been another option. “Part of the fun, right?”
He pulled away just to kiss your forehead and temples, lingering there for almost a beat too long before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. "You're not alone in this. I’m not letting you go through it alone. Got it?"
You blinked back the hot, stinging tears that threatened to spill over. The calm in his voice, the unwavering certainty in his eyes grounded you like no else. It felt impossible, but here he was, telling you that you weren’t lost, that he wasn’t leaving, no matter what happened.
"I need you, you know," he whispered against your cheek, kissing it once more. "I don’t think you get that."
You let out a shaky breath, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pulled him closer. You clung to him. "I do," you said, your voice soft but firm. "I need you, Lee. Desperately."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Then don’t overthink it." 
And before you could respond, his lips were on yours again, kissing you like it was the only thing keeping him alive. There was a quiet desperation in the way he kissed you, like every ounce of the feelings he couldn’t quite say were being poured into that moment. His hands cupped your face, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as though he was trying to erase the space between you.
You kissed him back with the same intensity, your fingers tangling in his hair, your body pressing into his, craving the closeness, the connection. Everything else faded into the background, drowned out by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat and the warmth of his hands on your skin.
His lips left yours for just a moment, brushing against your jaw, then trailing down your neck, each kiss soft but deliberate, making your breath hitch. "I’m not going anywhere," he murmured again, the words muffled against your skin. "You’ve got me. No matter what."
You couldn’t find the words, so you kissed him again, your hands tightening in his hair, pulling him closer. He responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight against him as though he was afraid to let go, as though you might disappear if he loosened his grip.
For a long moment, the world was just the two of you. Nothing else mattered. It was just you and him, and the quiet understanding that you were in this together. 
When you finally pulled back, breathless, your forehead pressed to his, you let out a laugh, more from the relief of having him here than anything else. It made him give you a curios smile, just happy to see you regain some of your usual behavior.
 "So," you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, "are you gonna say it again, or what?"
He let out a low chuckle, his arms still wrapped around you, his thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. "I love you," he said, his voice warm, no hesitation this time. "I love you. I’m not scared to say it, even if you make me say it a thousand more times."
"Good," you murmured, leaning in to kiss him again, softer this time, but no less meaningful. "Because I love you too. And I’m not letting you go."
A faint smile tugged at his lips, and he kissed you back, slow and lingering, like he wanted to memorize the feel of you against him. When you finally pulled apart, you were both breathless, his forehead resting against yours.
"We’ll figure this out," he promised softly, his fingers tracing idle patterns along your arm. "Whatever happens, we will be fine. Together."
You nodded, your heart finally settling, a sense of calm washing over you. "Yeah. We will."
And with that, the two of you sank down into the blankets, the night quiet at last. Lee’s arm stayed wrapped around you, his lips pressing soft kisses to whatever exposed skin he could find, as if he couldn’t quite believe that you were real, that this moment was real. 
As you lay there, tangled together, the world felt a little less terrifying. You had each other, and somehow, that was enough.
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n0tamused · 4 months ago
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dottore having to dispose of a faulty clone (maybe bc they were threatening reader) and then handfeeding reader parts of it like cannibalism as a metaphor for love…. do we see the vision or is this a little too 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 💔💔
A/n: pookie you're all good, thank you for feeding my brain worms with this idea I'm sending you smooches. I do hope I executed this well. I had a lot in my head that I wanted to write for this but I didn't want this to turn into a word scramble so here's this. Enjoy <3
Content: Dottore x GN reader, dark content(?), a bit yandere, implied unhealthy relationship, implied cannibalism, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, idk what else to tag as I never posted something like this so if anything else needs tagging feel free to lemme know
Words: 735
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Several candles lined the polished oak table, its surface smooth and almost sticky, the light rippling over the dark lines of the carvings on top like little light bugs chasing one another. The golden hues danced over the plates as well, but the dim light scarcely allowed for a good look at the dishes.
The fork extending forward to your lips was the only thing that held your attention long enough to be observed, taken in fully, lips closing around the bit of meat and vegetables. The juice and oil fills your mouth, sinking past your teeth and around your gums, the taste is rich yet stale all at once. You couldn’t comment on it, you didn't know what to say about it. Not with the Doctor sitting at your side and being the one to feed you so, so gently.
It's hard to remember when was the last time he looked so gentle, kind even, perhaps when he was lighting up the candles with such care, as if his own breath would blow the flames into a blaze, allowing you to see your plate in full.
The meat was well done, seasoned to your liking, and something told you it was Dottore’s own hand who prepared it, gave it his all to make it so perfect for consumption. Parts of him were laced through every sensation, every smell and every bite. Your own plate is set before him and he's cutting all your bites, spearing pieces of meat and salad onto the fork before feeding it to you, making sure you ate well.
The dull ache in your arms is brought back into memory as you languidly chew on a bite, and your fingers absentmindedly touch over your sleeves over where the bruises lay, feeling the ache grow.
“Do they still hurt you?” His voice called out amidst smoky smells and brown fog, calling you to the present. “Have you gotten any rest at all, my dear?” He added, his head tilting in your direction, his bird-like mask not allowing you for a glimpse of his ruby eyes, but from underneath you can see glimpses of the scars peeking through, teasing your eyes. For some reason he chose to wear it here, now, only puzzling you further. 
“No.. no.. they're fine… I’ll get some rest later tonight, sir..” you reply as you swallow and watch how he grimaced at the title, and you nearly cough from how big this bite was, but you would have taken a bigger bite had Dottore allowed you to feast yourself. Perhaps not, but you told yourself you would. Be it the rich taste or some other factor, you yearned to take up each bone from the meat and lick it clean, sucking out the marrow from within and letting it melt into your guts.
Would he be satisfied then?
Would you be?
The candles flicker. He's still looking at you
“Are you still afraid? I've already told you so, and explained it many times. You have nothing to fear here. This was just an error in the system which will not ever happen again.. and you shouldn't have been around to witness it, anyhow..”. You have to wonder how he can say all this with so little fear. Then again, the clone was his creation. He knew it inside and out, every crevice and every wire.
“I understand.. it's just that.. I'd rather not face the others now..not after that..” 
Truth be told, having him around was also slightly unnerving, as he wore nearly an identical face as the one that harmed you. They were the same, but also not. He was gentle, but he was not.
The one that hurt you was long disposed of and would never harm you again, but Dottore was once the one that hurt you, and now he has poured himself out before you, all for your pleasure and the sweet poison of safety and love.
He hopes to convey it to you through each meticulously put bite, every sip he graces your lips with. He had cut himself open for you and would do so again, just as he hurt you through that error. It came as easy as drinking and breathing. 
“That’s understandable. I assure you are safe, and however dark the night may get - I'll be there with you… But for now, you must eat, not fear. Open wide..”
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Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.
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soapcloth · 9 days ago
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Love, and it’s teeth {prologue}
Dark au -> gourmand cannibal!Price x reader
Series CW: 18+ MDNI, cannibalism, stalking {will update as I go}
not edited - 1000 words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
Price, for all intents and purposes had not meant to engage in Internet forums on the topic of cannibalism. He would sooner paint a bright red target on his back accompanied by the words ‘I eat people’- and yet, something about the way you defended ‘cannibalism as a metaphor for love’ with your whole chest had piqued his interest.
‘It’s a load of shite, love.’ he typed out simply in response to your post, blunt thumb jamming the send button on his touch screen. His phone buzzed almost instantly with your response.
‘lol, don’t call me love. Just say you lack whimsy and move on 😭 anyways I’m not arguing with an old British man, ‘JohnP1977’’
He scoffed, shoulder bulk shaking as he pawed at his jaw incredulously. He spent the next few minutes typing and deleting as he puffed on one of his cigars; every response coming off far too incriminating. He finally settled for tapping your icon to snoop around your profile, there was no discernible personal information at a glance aside from the fact that you were an adult, but digging into your media tab rewarded his diligence well. There you sat on your bed, oot’d? ooted? Whatever that meant. He grinned, double tapping on the photo.
Like clockwork, his phone buzzed in his hand- a direct message popping up. He smiled, languid and knowing. ‘creep 👎’ was all the message said. ‘Just showing you how whimsical I can get x.’ He responded.
Your typing bubble popped up and subsequently disappeared in a seemingly infinite loop. ‘fine’ you finally sent. ‘what do you have against cannibalism being used as a metaphor for love?’
You- all too cozy in your bed, watched your screen with your lip drawn up past your teeth. ‘Nothing, love.’ He acquiesced ‘Just not realistic, that’s all.’ You rolled your eyes. ‘ok? not exactly going for realism here, buddy’
‘Buddy? We’re friends now? What’s your name, love? Since we’re buddies and all.’
You bit out a weak laugh at his gall. ‘you sound like a serial killer’
‘Would that be okay if I was doing it as a metaphor for love? x’
-
You hadn’t thought much about that man with the blank profile since blocking him after he had spammed you with likes, notably on pictures with places you frequented as the subject. It had freaked you out enough to make you deep clean your little personal account and set to private. The right choice, evidently, seeing as a few blank profiles had requested to follow you before he had finally given up. Soon, over a month had passed since you had resolved not to visit your favourite- that fact well-documented, local bar due to the aforementioned string of incidents.
As luck would have it, this seemed to be a good choice, burnt toast theory or whatever you wanted to sum it up to. It was all over news and radio in your town, two patrons, a man and a woman, had gone missing right after leaving in an unmarked ride share. Reports had suggested that they had gotten into the wrong car and local officials spoke about the possibility of a curfew and urged towards the use of established taxi services and public transportation for those getting around.
You currently sat back at that same bar, a bleeding heart for the poor owners that had lamented in a local social media group about the winter business they relied on to pay the ever-increasing bills all but dying out, putting them out a good chunk of money since investing in higher quality security measures in hopes of instilling greater public trust. You watched the blurry, soundless released cctv footage play on the news between sports game coverage as you sipped on your drink, eyes flitting between the yellowed flatscreen and a group running a trivia night. You sighed, taking another sip as you overheard someone beside you talking about how this whole disaster had been great for his cab business, likening it to a boon.
“Christ, have some respect.” A deep voice grumbled from your other side, causing your head to rip to the new stranger being dismissively jeered at by the offending party. A bearded man had somehow silently slotted himself into the seat to your right without alerting you. Catching his gaze, his eyes appraised you for a moment before he tutted and shook his head. “Distasteful lot they are.” He hissed, “Don’t even know if they’re gone yet.” You huffed out a quiet breath and nodded in response, not too keen on being cordial. His voice carried a proper British lilt, the accent a reminder of your short-lived cyber stalker. “This town always so crass?”
You sniffed and looked back, shrugging. “Maybe, dunno.” You mumbled. Something about this guy gave you the creeps. He was handsome enough, older, well kept, and filling out his wool-lined Levi’s jacket like it had been tailored around his body specifically, but there was something in the way you caught him licking at his teeth and gums out of the corner of your vision- the smile you could make out as he watched the news pop up once more, it twisted your gut- made you feel like it was a mistake coming here.
“Can I grab my tab?” You spoke, flagging down the bartender that you had caught making eyes at the patron beside you. She smiled and nodded, and you desperately wished her face would have hinted that she had caught the same vibes from him that you had, something to make you feel like you weren’t reading into it or making things up. “Leaving?” The man asked as you grabbed your winter coat. You nodded, causing him to dive into his pocket for a well worn wallet, treated hide of some sort. “Let me, love.”
You nodded, the less you’d have to talk to him the better and something told you that he wouldn’t drop it if you had refused, anyway. “Thanks.” You breathed. “Have a nice night.” See you never, hopefully.
“Get home safe.” He replied, grinning with teeth.
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junabuggy · 10 months ago
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Hi! I love your writing! Would you be up for writing a fic where reader has super bad separation anxiety from Al, but he has to go somewhere without them and either Angel Dust or Husk is in charge of taking care of them/keeping them calm while he’s gone? Thanks a bunch!!! ❤️
Separation anxiety! GN! Reader x Alastor/husker?
A/n: Of course !! Honestly this has been super fun and I’m more than grateful for all the people who seem to enjoy my silly little fanfictions/headcanons, many thanks everybody ♥️♥️
Also, if you couldn’t tell from a lot of my writing, I’ve taken quite a liking to Alastor… So I get it, I love him too y’all ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧
Warnings: Mentions of separation anxiety, Mentions of alcohol, Alastor being Alastor so light mentions of blood and cannibalism (doesn’t actually happen)
Fluff✔️ Comfort✔️ Angst❌ Smut❌
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Hope yall don’t mind a few headcanons first about this :33
📻𖤐 it’s hard to tell how Alastor would realistically react to someone being attached to him in that way..
📻𖤐 Like do I think it would bother him? No, he wouldn’t mind you tagging along wherever he went as long as you didn’t bother him too much or get in the way of things but there are just times where he requires or wants to be alone. Which is where Husker would come in lol
📻𖤐 He probably wouldn’t leave you with Angel, even if Husk wasn’t available for whatever reason he’d just get Charlie to look after you while he was away.
📻𖤐 I feel like he cares/loves in an odd way.. like he wants to tear you apart and lick up all your delicious, sweet blood but in an affectionate way??? If that makes sense?? Remember that pomegranate cannibalism metaphor that went around on TikTok for a bit there? Think that.
📻𖤐 of course, he wouldn’t do that, he wants to keep you around.
Okok I’m done yapping about silly radio man lol, onto the fic
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Unfortunately, today was one of those days you couldn’t tag along with where Alastor went, he was attending an overlord meeting and obviously you not being an overlord it meant that you couldn’t go with him despite all of your protests and begging.
Before his departure, he sat you down at the bar with Husker and gave you a little pat on the head, telling you that he’d be back shortly and walking out of the hotel doors.
The grumpy cat demon poured himself a drink as he stared at you, this wasn’t exactly the first time Alastor had left him on “babysitting” duty with you and he didn’t exactly mind it. You were quite sweet for somebody who landed themselves in a place like hell.
“Where’s he off to this time?” Husker asked before taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage he held in his hand, attempting to make some form of conversation with you.
“Oh.. just some kind of silly overlord meeting…” You mumbled out a short reply whilst looking a bit glum. He simply nodded in response, setting his glass down on the bar countertop to mix you up a little something as well.
Husk didn’t understand your attachment to the Radio Demon to be completely frank with you. He and a lot of others viewed Alastor as something to fear, respect, and try to avoid contact with the best they could… so seeing someone who enjoyed his company was a foreign idea to him. But he wouldn’t judge you for it. It wasn’t exactly his business anyways and at least he seemed to treat you decently.
“Don’t stress it kid, he’ll be back soon. He keeps his promises I’ll give him that much.” Husk attempted to reassure you, giving a slight smile as he slid a drink down to you.
You smiled back weakly and nodded, taking a deep breath as you grabbed the drink he had slid over to you. You took a sip and it tasted like a screwdriver, not too bad of a drink and it would probably take your mind off of things a little bit if you had a few of them. Which was probably the goal Husker was trying to reach.. he couldn’t imagine separation anxiety to be very fun.
Later into the night once you got a few drinks in you, you started to forget all about why you were upset and/or stressed out in the first place. Chatting with Husk about random stuff and occasionally mentioning and talking about a person or two.
Husk wished there were more nights like this, more time spent with you… and who knows? Maybe you’ll be visiting the bar more often for him after tonight if he was lucky. He was pretty good at playing his cards right, after all.
(Sorry this was kinda short !! I wasn’t sure what else to write. Lmk if you guys maybe want a part two with Alastor coming back from his little meeting, I might do that :3)
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𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 ◟( ˃̶͈◡ ˂̶͈ )◞
ᯓ★ 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐲
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ch4osworld · 10 months ago
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YOU ALWAYS EAT THE ONE YOU LOVE
Words: 697
Sooo i decided to take a pause from 'the passenger' until i get a decent idea for a chapter, in the meantime i got an idea for this.
Alastor x reader
Cw: cannibalism but as a metaphor for love, sadomasochism and suggestive. Maybe OOC Alastor i don't know. I went a bit crazy with this.
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He feels the softness of your skin, cold and soft against his touch. He smells your delicate aroma, his teeth grazed against you. As he feels you against him he knows he can't resist, a strong desire engulfing him whole, laying deep into his soul, an oh so passionate love he feels for you only.
He wants you to be his every meal: his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, and his occasional snack. It doesn't matter how much flesh he eats, for he only craves yours. His crimson eyes staring deep into yours, with such a hunger it seemed he hadn't eaten for days. Is it really so wrong to love someone so much to want to consume them whole, to make them eternally part of you?
There are so many ways he could make you: braised, stewed, fried, grilled, raw. Yes that would be perfect, there is nothing better than to taste your flesh as pure as it can be.
Oh yes he must eat you now.
Oh he really can't make it anymore, he finally take a chunk from your shoulder. Your soft and delicate skin seems like it's melting in his mouth, oh how delicious you were. The bitter taste of blood invades his insides, truly a bliss. Oh how stupid it was going to heaven when he was living it right now.
Your scarlet blood ran on your naked chest, as the pain finally reached you. It hurt, it endlessly hurt, but oh how it felt good, it felt addictive. You wanted more...you needed more. He finishes his little hors d'oeuvre by licking off the blood still flowing from the wound, sliding down your body until cleaning every single drop of blood. But that wasn't the end, oh darling he didn't even manage to get to the main course!
His head kept getting lower and lower, reaching your inner thighs. He looked at you, you could feel the love, the desire, the passion. He took a moment to inhale your scent, oh you were truly such a doe! So cute and tasty!
After some agonizing long seconds, he bit, taking another chunk of your skin. Oh he wanted to savor you slowly, feeling every inch, getting every taste of you. This part of you was particolarly soft. How it felt good in his mouth, and the blood only served as a bitter sauce to make it just perfect. He made sure to take every inch of it, it's not like he didn't notice how good it felt for you.
Now how could he forget about the dessert? He looked at you. You were starting to feel weak from the blood loss, he knew it, but that's just makes it better doesn't it? But oh no, you were so pale it looked like you were about to faint! That just won't do. He moved up closer to your face, his lips still covered with your blood. He kissed you, a gentle and tender kiss, making you taste yourself "Now you don't taste so bad do you? I am sure you'll be more than happy for me to finish won't you?"
You eagerly nodded, how could you refuse another one when he made you feel so good? He hummed, content with your response, as he slowly slid down to your hip. He took a moment to inhale your scent and then he finally took a bite. Sounds of pleasure escaped your lips, as he happily savored his last meal, his mouth full with your scarlet blood.
He took a moment to look at you, to admire you. Blood covered you everywhere, oh you were truly delicious! In that moment it was only him and you, in his room, covered in blood. How romantic.
Oh but what partner would he be if he wouldn't let you eat? No, no dear that just won't do, you need to eat. It's your turn to have your meal now, and you could have as much as him as you wanted. It's your turn to feel him, for him to become a part of you, forever.
You got closer and closer, your breath itching against his neck
And you bite
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t6kioo · 8 days ago
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entry no. 1
there’s something inherently grotesque about love. it’s not the soft, pastel-colored thing hallmark would have you believe. love is sharp teeth and bloodied hands. it’s hunger—actual, visceral hunger.
we “devour” each other with our eyes. we “consume” each other’s attention. we talk about “aching” for someone, about feeling “empty” without them. love songs croon about addiction and obsession, about needing someone like a junkie needs a fix. calvin harris and the disciples literally sang, “i want you to breathe me in, let me be your air.” love demands consumption, down to the bare bone.
the cultural shorthand is clear: desire is hunger. and hunger—real hunger—has always had a dark edge. maybe that’s why the cannibal keeps showing up in our stories about love. hannibal lecter and clarice starling’s hypnotic dance of intellect and temptation. armie hammer’s scandal that felt like the logical end point of his sexy, “aristocratic” image. netflix’s fresh, where sebastian stan plays a charming man who dates women only to harvest their flesh. and let’s not forget our beloved twilight—edward cullen, sparkling like a disco ball, warning bella, “you’re like my own personal brand of heroin.”
what is love if not the urge to consume? the desire to take someone so deeply into yourself that they become a part of you—biologically, spiritually, metaphorically. and what is heartbreak if not hunger pangs when that person is gone?
cannibalism makes an excellent metaphor because it’s all about boundaries—or the lack thereof. loving someone means letting them in, letting them get so close that the lines between you start to blur. but what happens when that intimacy turns dangerous? when the hunger isn’t mutual? when one person is the predator and the other is the prey?
jeffrey dahmer didn’t kill people because he hated them. he killed them because he couldn’t bear to be alone. he wanted to keep them close, permanently. it’s completely horrifying, yes, but also tragically relatable. anyone who’s stayed up all night rereading texts from an ex, anyone who’s memorized someone’s spotify playlists just to feel connected—congratulations, you’re already halfway to dahmer’s basement.
romeo and juliet, the classic tale of doomed romance, hinges on mutual destruction. they consume each other until there’s nothing left, literal poison sealing the deal. it’s the same story in wuthering heights. heathcliff doesn’t just love cathy; he wants to haunt her. when she dies, he famously cries out, “be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss where i cannot find you!” romantic? sure. but it’s also deeply unhinged.
maybe that’s why vampires, zombies, and other flesh-eaters keep showing up as metaphors for desire. they’re embodiments of hunger without limits, love without boundaries. they remind us that intimacy is inherently risky. to love someone is to hand them a knife and hope they don’t use it.
but the truth is, we want them to use it—just a little. we want the vulnerability, the ache, the bite. we want to be consumed. after all, what’s the alternative? to be alone? to keep your heart under glass, untouched and pristine? no one writes sonnets about that. no one makes movies about lovers who stay politely detached.
maybe cannibalism is the perfect metaphor for love. it’s a bit unsettling, sure, but so is the way we talk about relationships. soulmates. twin flames. two halves of a whole. it’s all just a pretty way of saying: i want you inside me. not just physically, but spiritually. i want to know you so deeply that the distinction between me and you dissolves.
and isn’t that a little terrifying? isn’t that what keeps us awake at night? the knowledge that love will either complete us—or consume us whole.
so eat your heart out. or let someone else do it. either way, bon appétit.
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yanderefarm · 2 months ago
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Is it wrong of me to rlly just wanna like- take a huge chomp out of Nephite?? Not even in a sexual way (maybe in a sexual way we’re all freaks here) I just wanna like, NOM on his arm or neck or smt and just like- sit there and chew affectionately for a bit. I’ll stare daggers at whoever I need to to be able to just chomp down on him randomly idc at this point I wanna nom on the babygirl cultist. (I’m also probably to into cannibalism as a metaphor for love-)
🦑-anon
omegaverse is such a good verse for love bites too like!!! maybe it's unconventional to nom his arm but it's also not that weird!!
sitting there chewing on him and he's a little blushing mess like
"people are staring!!!"
"they should be youre the cutest!! nom"
omegaverse biting as a love language
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cherubispunk · 11 months ago
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NEPHILIM (series masterlist) - Jackson-era!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader
summary: Joel Miller was something of a biblical figure to you. A small glimpse into the past of something archaic, untold, and harbouring on the dangerous. You liked to imagine him as one of the Nephilim. A son of god, offspring borne of a fallen angel and man. A giant of misunderstood nature. Who’s soul had been cast down on earth in punishment. His large hands had bloodshed on them, or so people had said. They whispered it quietly in the spaces between. The places he didn’t occupy often. But he was always on your mind…so there was no place for those whispers there.
a note from Lucy: biblical imagry, canibalism as a mataphor, animal imagry, joels stiff upper lip, mutual pining, two grown adults being bloody cowards!!! It's all fucking crack cocaine to me. So...enjoy two iditos in love. All parts are in chronological order.
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NEPHILIM: BAMBI
w/c: 1563 | angst, fluff
summary: when does a human stop being regarded as a human…and, instead, seen as something different entirely?
Warnings: 18+ MDNI! no use of y/n but reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, no physical description of reader apart from ‘long lashes’, brief descriptions of injury and blood, religious imagery, use of guns/ being taught to shoot, me not remembering how to shoot even though I was taught how to so there may be inaccuracies lolsies, Joel is a little bit of a dick but it’s only because he cares!
NEPHILIM
w/c: 2498 | angst, smut
summary: the disturbing comforts the disturbed.
Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! no use of y/n, I tried to keep her body type as generic as possible but he might be slightly skinny coded so please let me know and I’ll change it in edits, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, p in v sex, creampie, fingering, rough sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit)
NEPHILIM: THE FALLEN | POEM
wc: 2755 | angst, fluff?, smut
summary: fallen or damned? who's to tell when it's joel miller
Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! no use of y/n, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, yearning, idiots in love, angst angst angst!!!!!!, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, oral sex (m! receiving), rough oral sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit) - Lucy crying over a bloody google doc :)
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milfjagger · 9 months ago
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one thing about the “cannibalism as a metaphor for love/desire” spike on this website is that there really aren’t that many examples of this trope. you can say it all goes back to hannibal but that is fundamentally not how hannibal lecter operates - he doesn’t care about the people he kills and eats even a little bit and he says as much in the show. in the terror, most of the heroes literally do NOT resort to cannibalism - even though james begs francis to use his body after he dies (selfless love?), francis (as well as the other men) cannot bear to do it and bury him instead. goodsir, probably the most saint/martyr coded character, also refuses to eat human flesh and even weaponises his own body against those who do, killing himself and the perpetrators of cannibalism rather than continue living like that. and no matter how you look at it, hickey does not kill and eat gibson (or anyone else for that matter) because he loves them. he is literally asserting dominance in a survival situation to avoid becoming a victim himself.
yellowjackets is complicated because of the specific homoerotic nature of the relationship between shauna and jackie, and you could argue there’s a certain seduction that happens when jackie’s corpse is “talking” to shauna. the frenzied scene when the girls eat jackie is portrayed as some kind of dark force taking them and there are a lot of emotions tied up in it but it’s not straightforwardly “they love jackie and jackie loved them and would want them to live”. ravenous has a similar homoerotic tone and ives’ seduction of boyd into a life of cannibalism could easily be a metaphor for gay desire, but the film also explicitly critiques “manifest destiny” and colonial greed through the lens of physically consuming anyone who stands in your way.
now let’s talk about actual examples of this trope. in raw, cannibalistic desire IS actually combined with the emotions of sex, and the most moving scene in my opinion is the ending in which the dad reveals a heavily scarred torso from his wife’s bite marks, indicating that he still loves her in spite of, or maybe because of her nature. in society of the snow, and indeed in actual accounts from the survivors of the andes plane crash, many of the boys who initially hold out from eating the dead are persuaded by the comparison to the eucharist - jesus gave his body so they could have spiritual life, and their friends died so they could have physical life. the dead and consumed are conceptualised as ultimately loving and selfless; if everyone had survived the crash, all of them would have starved to death. and in my personal favourite cannibal movie, bones and all, it’s kind of a mixture of all of the above. the first time maren consciously bites someone with intent to eat them, it’s framed as this sexual awakening (again tied up in gay desire with the way it evokes fear and disgust in others). lee is also presumably bisexual and faces homophobic comments from his family. one of his early experiences with cannibalism was eating his own father (do i need to explain this). there’s so much i could say about maren’s mother and how she is portrayed as an “addict” who physically cannot control her impulses to eat people. and then of course there’s the ending where lee dies and begs maren, who has been denying her true nature for so long, to eat him and have him become part of her forever. because he literally loves her and he wants her to eat well
tldr is that hannibal and the terror aren’t even close to portraying cannibalism as love and idk what you guys are talking about half the time
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