Hiya! Could you write about the reader taking care of Rex while he's recovering from blue shadow virus? Thanks!
We're doing another medic!reader because that's what i want in life, rip
Your hands were shaking as you smoothed a hand on Rex's head again. You exhaled, looking around the medical ward, standing and moving to the padawan's bed. You didn't know her well, but he seemed to pick up on a lot of Rex's habits fast- you had known the captain since he was a shiny, a rookie, and you were out on your first battle mission.
This padawan reminded you of younger you- brash, quick, and she absolutely would not sit still.
"Commander Tano, please lay down," You said, calmly, walking by her cot.
The padawan sighed and ran a hand over her face quietly. "This is stupid. I'm a jedi."
"Even Jedi aren't immune to fast-spreading bioengineered diseases." You ran your hands over the tools, finally selecting a small censor and turning to her. "Let me check your breathing."
You pressed it gently to her back, risking a glance back at Rex. "You're a brave kid." You said, gently. "But everyone gets worn out. Even jedi."
"Or captians?" Tano's voice lifted, almost teasing, as she glanced over at Rex.
You coughed. "Sure, captains too, they're humans after all."
Tano shifted as you removed the sensor. "He talks about you a lot. Like... A lot. Skyguy- er, General Skywalker teases him about it."
You snorted lightly, taking a salve from the table and handing to to her. "Can I put this on your neck?" She nodded and leaned her head back, and you resumed your work. "It'll help relieve your airway passages." You paused, fighting the urge to glance at Rex again. "So... Skywalker talks about me, huh?"
"Yeah, with the Captain." Tano shifted, blinking rapidly as you finished the salve. "Oh, that's strong."
You closed it, glancing over at Rex, then at the salve. "Rest easy. If you don't, I'll give you a sedative."
Tano whined and flopped back, exhaling heavily. Finally, she said, "I know he likes you. I can feel it when he talks about you.” There was a moment of sweet silence before she chimed up again, “Which is a lot.”
You chuckled, handing her a blanket. “Thanks for the intel, Tano.”
You walked back to Rex, pausing and looking down at him. His breathing had deepened, not nearly as shallow as it had been earlier. You sighed, hands less shakey from the worry, and you leaned down, gently kissing his forehead. Your hand smoothed on his head again, feeling the blonde fuzz of his hair under the pad of your thumb.
You felt him shift under you, mumbling listlessly in his feverish fatigued-induced sleep. You shushed him gently, climbing into the cot and gently resting his head on your lap, head leaning back on the wall nearby.
Your head lulled back as you hummed, hand gingerly petting his cheek, and you yawned heavily. The warmth of sleep crawled up your shoulders, and your eyes slipped closed into sleep.
How unfortunate it was that Anakin, who had dropped by to visit Ashoka and Rex, managed to snag a picture for blackmailing you and the captain later.
You see a really weird "job" post online, and the money seems too good to be true. But you aren't really in a position where you can turn it down...
You hope it doesn't get weird.
Parts: [ x / 2 / 3 ]
---
It was a very… concerning “job” posting.
But desperate times, and all that.
It had shown up about a week ago, and it wasn’t hard to see why no one had taken the poster up on it as of yet.
Bedmate Needed
● 11 pm to 6 am
● $25/hour up front
● Riverside Motel
● Room 44
● Not a sex thing
The last note seemed tacked on in a later edit, but it was still… not great.
You’d have to be either a gullible idiot or a desperate one to go for a job like this. Unfortunately, you were the latter. Very much so.
You couldn’t take another night on the street. It was getting so cold out. The promise of a warm bed was almost enough to lure you in on its own. But the money… 175 bucks just to sleep in the same bed as some internet creep?
Despite the clarification in the post, this had to be a sex thing, right?
You hadn’t gone that far, despite everything. It’s not like you hadn’t considered it… but the thought was too terrifying. Making yourself completely vulnerable to a stranger that could just decide you were less than a person and do whatever they wanted to you? You had to draw the line somewhere.
But at this point, you weren’t sure that there was a line you weren’t willing to cross anymore.
. . .
The Motel wasn’t the seediest you’d ever seen around town but it wasn’t a place you would’ve voluntarily stayed at even two months ago. Back when you had options.
Creepy post guy opened the door after a couple of knocks, with an awkward, pregnant pause between them. He wasn’t quite what you expected for an internet creep, but he was still a sight to see.
Really bad posture and dark, greasy-looking hair, with the darkest circles under his eyes you’d ever seen. He looked like he was about to pass out at any second, but he held it together long enough to gesture you into the room.
“Hey…” His voice was low but he sounded nervous. And so, so tired. “You’re… You’re a little early. That’s…that’s fine. Uh, come in.”
You felt his eyes on you as you passed him, and it didn’t help your anxiousness. Not one bit.
“Hey so, I-I really…I uh, need a shower.” He stumbled over his words with a breathy, nervous laugh. “Unless you wanna sleep next to a… fuckin’ sweaty mess all night. Do you wanna go first or…?”
You must’ve looked nervous because his eyes went wider, digging into his pocket.
“I wasn’t tryin’ to… Oh, uh…here.” He nodded, pressing the money into your hand. “Up front, just… just like I said. You just…just seemed like you maybe sorta needed one too.”
Some part of you must’ve still had an ounce of pride left because your whole body felt on fire with shame, embarrassment so consuming that you froze up. It had been a couple of days…
He just looked away, seeming like he was embarrassed himself.
“I w-wasn’t gonna like… try to join you or peep on you or nothin’!” He tried to assure you, eyes darting in a panic and talking a bit too fast. “If I, like, go first? I won’t get mad if you change your mind and leave… I get it. I’m not gonna like… go after you or call the cops or nothin’ like that. I just…”
He stared at the floor, nails digging into his arm as he seemed like he was having trouble breathing.
“I really… I really need this.” He was so quiet, but his voice was so desperate.
You couldn’t really be considering this, could you?
He seemed more like a weird, awkward, sad guy than a real danger or some kind of pervert.
And you really did need a hot shower.
It seemed like a safer bet to have him go first, if you were really going through with this. And it would give you a chance to look around the room for a spot to tuck away your pocket knife, just in case.
When he was in the shower, you did just that. The spot between the mattress and bed frame would be easy to grab at if things got hinky.
If things got all touchy-feely, as you suspected they would, him finding that on you or leaving it in your pocket when your clothes got tossed wherever would be really inconvenient.
Steam rolled out of the bathroom when he stepped out, shirtless but with sweatpants and a towel around his neck. He was thin, almost alarmingly so, but you could still see muscle, enough to pose a problem should he decide to overpower you.
This was your last chance to back out, before you’d be vulnerable to this odd stranger.
But even if you left, the money wouldn’t last long, and it’s not like you had any other options.
You were so grateful that the motel tub wasn’t disgusting, but you would’ve gotten clean regardless. Two days worth of sweat and funk was washed away and it felt so heavenly… But it was hard to relax when you were trying to stay hyper alert of any noise that could be that man trying to get in or even eavesdrop.
But…
Nothing.
You finished your shower and brushed your teeth, doing everything you could to feel clean that a motel bathroom could provide. And there was no sign of the guy.
But you had to go back out there eventually. You supposed you could lock yourself in here and get a full night’s sleep indoors, even if it was on the floor of a motel bathroom with your back against the door, but part of you just said “fuck it” and warily peeked around the doorway into the bedroom.
The lights in the room were dim, but warm. He was sitting on the end of the bed, one knee tucked into his chest, staring at the tv as the bright colors of a nightly talk show reflected in his eyes, but something told you he wasn’t really watching. His eyes met yours and you froze.
“It’s almost eleven…” He mumbled, his head resting awkwardly on his shoulder. His hand ghosted over the spot on the bed next to him. “… Will... will you stay?”
So many thoughts raced through your head. What would happen if you laid down beside him? You could probably deal with sex… even if it felt a bit wrong. But if he wanted to hurt you?
Your brain reminded you:
What do you really have to lose?
When you told him you would stay, sitting next to him, you could see him relax. Just a bit.
“If you still want to leave-”
But you cut him off, almost afraid he would talk you out of it after you’d made up your mind.
Avoiding his stare, you told him you had nowhere to go.
The bed was cold, it might take a bit to warm up with the two of you in it, but it was the least of your concerns at that moment.
“So it’s...” He’d spoken up so suddenly, you hoped he didn’t see you flinch. He was staring at the ceiling, seeming just a tiny bit calmer. “... it’s fine if you just… lay there or h-hold onto me, or play on your phone or whatever, anything is fine. Just… just don’t leave ‘til mornin’. Okay?”
A worrying pause, but you told him you understood.
And that was that. He laid next to you unmoving for almost an hour before you had the nerve to move at all, shifting slowly to your side to face him.
His eyes were shut, his breathing even, but somehow you knew he was still awake. It was like he was trying to sleep but it just wasn’t coming to him. He looked so worn down, like he could just keel over any second. It definitely made him less intimidating, but you weren’t letting your guard down, no matter how much your body was screaming at you to just let go.
Despite your better judgement, you wondered if he really was being genuine about this not being a sex thing. It was a relief, sure, but it just raised more questions.
Why were you here?
. . .
You’d stopped looking at the bedside clock a while ago. It had to have been hours by then.
Your anxiety and dread somehow felt quieter under the lull of impending sleep. Despite everything, your body was at least grateful for a warm bed and hot shower, and if you didn’t sleep there now, you didn’t know when you’d be able to sleep somewhere warm any time soon.
Every moment that ticked by, you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, just to let go… This whole situation was weird, but you just wanted to sleep.
He hoped against everything that he would just fall asleep.
Just this once, he didn’t want to have to follow through with it. But he was so damn tired. There was this ache behind his eyes that he could feel in his bones, his mind never stopped racing…
He could feel your body heat in the bed next to him. You had either been very scared or very considerate, you’d only moved once since you laid down with him.
He hated that he had to do this. He felt sorry for you, he really did. But it was drowned out by the buzzing in the back of his brain. The constant whispers in his ear.
There had been so many before now, it was a miracle he hadn’t gotten caught. But this was a huge, dangerous city. Everyone in it was just a blip to anyone paying attention.
He could feel their skin under his palms buzzing at the back of his brain. How their eyes stared into his, burning with betrayal, fear, helplessness. How he saw them fade away.
How it was the only thing that worked to let him finally sleep. The only thing that quieted the whispers, at least for a little bit.
Some booked it after getting the money. Some just showed up and straight-up robbed him. Some tried to leave in the middle of the night, thinking he was asleep. But if they stayed and fell asleep, that was that.
He told himself that he gave them all a chance.
If you managed to stay up all night, you’d be safe. But he really needed this… It was already day three, and he’d never made it past day five without completely losing it. Trying to fight this, it was too hard. The longer he stayed awake, trying to avoid what had to happen, the worse he felt. The louder the voice got. The deeper the ache in his bones. But the more often he did it, the easier it got. And that was worse in a different way.
It was wrong. He wasn’t so deep in it that he couldn’t see that. The morning after, he always hated himself and what he did.
But as the days went on, it would all creep back in. And doing it again felt less and less horrifying to him.
You were scared. He could tell. And you had every reason to be, he told himself. But it just meant it would take you longer to fall asleep.
He could wait all night. And if you made it the full seven hours, you weren’t what he needed. You’d be free from him, from this. Hopefully you wouldn’t come back, no matter how badly you needed the money.
He wondered what you meant by having nowhere to go.
But he tried not to wonder too much. It would make this harder.
He could hear your breathing getting slower, your body relaxing into the bed. You wouldn’t last much longer.
His eyes shot open when he felt you suddenly touch him, tucking your forehead into his shoulder. You weren’t quite asleep, a cuddler? He almost laughed to himself when half-asleep you looked a bit frustrated, like it wasn’t enough.
You muttered something about being cold, lazily scooting your body closer to him up the bed. He felt his breath catch when suddenly, his head was pulled to you, tucked into your chest as your arm circled him. He was suddenly the little spoon, but facing you. He could hear your heartbeat.
He wanted to say something, wake you up or wriggle free to make what he had to do easier on you when you fell asleep. He felt a hand in his hair, playing with it and idle gentle nails on his scalp.
It was… nice. Everything felt calm, the buzzing and horrible thoughts were still there but they were being drowned out by the warmth of your skin, the thump of your heart in his ear.
You were mumbling something. He held his breath, trying to hear.
You told him, or whoever you were dreaming about, maybe even no one at all, that he was okay. That he was safe.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open. Something was different this time. He felt all his control slipping away, and for once, he wasn’t scared.
You woke to a sunbeam across your face, and the strange man in your arms, sound asleep. According to your phone, it was 10 am. You were grateful for the extra hours in a warm bed, but would he be mad? Did he have somewhere to be?
You couldn’t remember anything past drifting off next to him, but the two of you were tangled together, he seemed so comfortable.
Now that it was over, and your anxieties were much quieter, you really got a good look at the guy. He wasn’t… unattractive, you supposed. He was all elbows and ribs but laying against your chest made him look so soft and harmless.
Wasn’t the worst way you’d ever made 175 bucks.
You wondered if he’d shell out the extra 100, or if that would be pushing your luck.
Either way, it would be best to wake him up.
Gently scratching at his scalp, you told him it was getting late.
You watched as his eyes struggled to open, and for a few calm moments, he just laid against you. After a beat, he gasped and jolted up, head swiveling around the room in a panic.
“I…” He seemed really out of it, almost scared. “I actually…”
He stared at you, eyes wide. You told him it was ten in the morning, hoping everything was okay and if it wasn’t, that he wouldn’t take it out on you.
He grabbed you by the shoulders, and for a moment you were sure something bad was going to happen, but somehow, it was even worse.
He was crying.
Breaking down, sobbing hard as he just kept staring at you. Even with the odd night you’d just had, this was somehow the weirdest part.
Despite yourself, you asked him if he was okay. He pulled himself together and you were startled again when he touched your face, his thumb gently grazing your cheek. It was tender and sweet, and it was freaking you out a little. Just a tad.
“You… It was you…”
All you could think to ask was if you should get going, maybe trying to make it seem like you had someplace to be, or were at least trying to be considerate of his time. But it didn’t seem like he was taking the hint.
He grabbed your hands in his, the sudden contact made you jump. He pulled them to his chest, he was too close. The way he was looking at you…
“Can we… Can we do this again? Like tonight? Please?” He was practically begging, the look in his eyes changing. That nervous, achingly tired gaze was hopeful. And so warm.
“You can have the room, if that’s what you need!” he offered, maybe somehow having picked up on your current situation. “I can pay more too. Just p-please…”
He held your palm to his cheek, staring up at you.
a bit of a different one from me, but i kind of liked how it turned out
that feeling when your new yandere was totally gonna off you but you were just too comfy
he's never gonna let you go. you're the only thing keepin him from killing again, ya know?
i don't have a ton of yanderes that actually kill, as odd as that seems. but this guy is one of them
he's not supposed to be a huge commentary on any particular mental health conditions, i did a bit of "research" into psychosis induced insomnia (using that term VERY loosely), but like does he hear voices because he can't sleep, or can he not sleep because he hears voices? who can say? certainly not I, the dummy who made him
i wrote this one pretty much right after my last big deadline ended, but it got reworked a bit cause it just needed some tweaks:
the yandere started out as tired but crass, kind of a dick, and when he switched after that good night's sleep it felt off. It felt more interesting if he was a bit pathetic and creepy, it felt like less of a red flag for the reader to stick around
the reader was originally going to be a straight up s*x worker that got hired by the yandere for him to kill, but it didn't really feel like my place to make that commentary on violence against s*x workers or to more or less soften it with a yandere love interest. it just didn't feel right for something so unserious
but ive been having horrible writer's block lately, so i thought i'd finally put this one out. i need to read/play some yandere stuff and get inspired. let me know if you have any recommendations y'all ✌️
When you were young, you got lost in the woods after an accident. No one believed you when you said that you met a little boy who found you and helped you. That was years ago now, and you don't really know what you're trying to prove, but you go back into those same woods.
It isn't long before you realize that you're not alone.
[content warning: implied murder and scene of a physical assault]
When you were young, maybe ten years old, you wandered away from a car accident just off a long stretch of road in the middle of nowhere. It had been raining pretty hard and it was dark. You got yourself lost in the woods. You were a little banged up and your head hurt. Your thoughts were scattered and you felt dizzy as you kept moving, not knowing where you were trying to go.
Alone, cold and scared, you froze when you saw a glow from behind the trees. A small boy with an old-looking kerosene lantern came into view, and you didn't know if you were relieved to see someone or frozen at the sight of this little kid all on his own in the woods.
He couldn't've been older than seven, maybe eight, but he was smaller than you. But unlike you, there wasn't a hint of fear on his face.
"Are you lost?" he wondered, and through tears, you nodded, sobbing that you were and that you were hurt. Holding the lantern closer, he saw your injuries and an empathetic sadness spread across his face.
"It's okay... Come on to my house." He offered, but he was already holding your hand to pull you along after him. He led you through the dark, winding woods, and you wondered to yourself how he knew where he was going. But he must have, he finally stopped on a little clearing in the trees with a small cabin.
Despite being so little, he got a fire going all on his own.
"Papa's out huntin', but he'll be back in... three more sunrises." He said matter-of-factly, like it was completely normal. You asked him about his mom.
"Mama's been gone a long, long time." He told you, making sure the fire would keep burning. He went to the cabinet under the sink, grabbing some stuff. He helped clean up your scratches, and put a clean cloth to your forehead. You hadn't known you'd been bleeding.
He didn't look worried at all about being alone, and he seemed used to it, if him cooking you a simple meal on his own was anything to go on.
He looked at you with big eyes as the two of you ate and he asked you so many questions. About everything.
"Do you have any pets? Papa has a dog. Her name is Missy, but she's not very nice. She's out hunting too, but I can't go. Papa says I gotta be the man of the house when he goes out."
"Do you go to school? Papa teaches me stuff, I learn all about all kinds of things!"
"Papa and Missy are all my family. What's your family like?"
At that, you started to sob again, and you weren't sure why. He looked so guilty for making you upset, but you couldn't make yourself stop. He let you sleep in his room, and when he crawled into the bed next to you, He let you hold his stuffed rabbit.
As you slept, the boy thought to himself that it was pretty sad that you were all alone. But as he listened to your soft breathing, he told himself that if no one wanted you, he could keep you. You could be his and he could take care of you. He didn't like to admit he felt lonely, and his papa could be pretty mean and not talk to him sometimes, but maybe he would like you as much as he did? And then no matter what happened, he'd always have you.
He fell asleep holding your hand, wondering if you would stay with him forever.
The next thing you remembered was coming to in a hospital. You hadn't been able to hold onto what you'd seen in the crash, but that was when you learned your family hadn't survived it. You cried for so long and so hard that the nurses had to make the police leave and wait to come back in.
They told you that you'd been found alone in a ditch by part of the search team days later, near frozen with a nasty head wound, no little boy in sight. At the time you'd insisted he'd been real and he was out there, but no one ever found him, or any sign anyone had lived anywhere close in a long while. You weren't sure if you had imagined him with your head injury and your grief, and when you were younger you'd insisted to every police officer, social worker and foster family that he'd been real.
But if he'd told you his name, you couldn't remember... So much of that time was all one, uncertain blur.
Your therapist said visiting the sight of the crash might finally help you get some closure. Someone had put up a little cross with plastic flowers in the many years since then, the sight of it made your chest tight. But worse, you kept staring at those woods, telling yourself that it... didn't happen. That he hadn't been real. That you'd just imagined a kind little boy who probably saved your life, that the thought of him had comforted you through the most traumatic event of your life.
You'd just lost your family and your mind had conjured up someone who'd cared for you, and that was all.
But you still went into the trees, unsure if you wanted to find anyone or if you just needed... something. Closure? Proof? A sign? Whatever it could be, you kept walking, trying to retrace your steps from that day. You knew it was damn near impossible, it'd been raining and dark and you'd been concussed and traumatized, but your body kept moving.
It was crazy, and you felt crazy, but he'd never left your mind. The memory of that little boy had carried you through the roughest moments of your life, even after you started to believe he'd been just a figment of your imagination. So it was irresponsible and naive and so many different kinds of dangerous to be wandering the woods alone, the sun going down and temperatures dropping fast. You were armed with little more than a flashlight and a pocket knife you normally used to open packages. And a phone with no signal.
Before long, even your thick coat wasn't enough to keep the chill away, and you wished you'd worn better shoes.
You focused on the sound of your breathing, watching the trailing white puffs hit the air and disappear.
Once.
Twice.
Over and over.
Then.
You heard it.
Someone else's breathing.
You watched your body language, trying not to make it obvious you'd heard anything. Your pace got a little faster, but not an outright run, not yet.
It had a hint of a low pitch behind it if you focused. A man? Footsteps, but not constant. He was trying to stay quiet. You started going a little faster, and he picked up the pace. You needed to run.
You tried to get away, made random turns and grabbing tree trunks to make sudden loops in new directions. You couldn't turn off your flashlight or you'd be running blind, but it was giving you away. You could hear him now, breathing heavy, in your terror it almost sounded like a low growl getting closer and closer.
A hard slam into your back knocked you to the forest floor, and the two of you crashed into a burst of fallen leaves and frantic cries, hands grabbing for any purchase as you tried to rip away from him. His hand grabbed your face, covering your mouth before you could scream. He pressed a hand to your shoulder, pinning you on your back down in the dirt.
"Don't struggle." A low, terrifying voice advised, empty eyes staring into yours. "You'll only make things worse."
For a single, horrifying moment, you truely believed you were going to die.
. . .
But it never came.
"… Is… that you?"
You didn't want to open your eyes, still thinking this was it, but when he took his hand off your mouth… Instead of screaming, you managed to just breathe again. That look in his eyes was gone, replaced by a look that stopped you in your tracks.
The emptiness had been replaced by this… warmth, paired with a bright, gentle smile that met his eyes. Why was he looking at you like that?
"It's been so long, I really thought…" The man pulled you close to him, squeezing too tight. He was… hugging you? Why was he hugging you? "I thought he… But it's you! You're okay..."
You pushed back against the stranger, and he saw the confusion and mistrust in your eyes, still reeling from, you know, being tackled and pinned by a grown man in the woods at night.
"I just…" he seemed… ashamed? "I heard someone out here, but I never coulda imagined it would be you. I just… "
He was still looking at you with that same warmth. It felt… why did it feel… familiar?
"I just… can't believe you came back to me."
Then, despite it all, you saw it.
He had the same soft brown curls and sweet smile, but that was all that was familiar. He was tall, broad shoulders and a two week-old beard. If you weren't sure it was him, you'd be terrified. But all you felt was... you weren't sure.
You felt happy, vindicated, warm. But you started crying, just ugly bawling where you couldn't catch your breath.
It was him.
Kurt. For the first time in years, you could remember his name. How could you have forgotten?
You called out to him, your voice breaking, and he laughed softly.
"Hey now... " He gingerly touched your face, like he was scared to break you, but you pressed yourself to him, holding on tight. He held on even tighter, resting his head on top of yours.
"I told myself that you'd come back to me..." He sighed. "But you kept me waitin' a long time..."
His voice was deep and rough, but the warmth behind it made you feel... safe again. For the first time in years.
You knew you hadn't made him up. That little boy who'd found you and gave you something to hang onto was safe and all grown up.
You hit him with so much that'd been building up inside you the second you could catch your breath.
That you'd never forgotten him.
That you were glad he was safe, no longer that little boy on his own in the middle of the woods.
That you had missed him.
"I missed you too… " He held you tighter, and you let yourself feel… safe.
But something nagged at you.
You felt a surge of something that made you feel a bit unsteady again. You pulled back a bit, pushing against his chest to see his face. He blinked.
"What's wrong?" He flashed a soft smile, confused, but still not letting go.
You asked him why the hell had he chased you? Pinned you down? You asked him why he hadn't… called out? Made himself known? Was he trying to scare you off?
He paused, his smile unfaltering.
"Ah… sorry about all that." He held his hands up, an embarrassed smile on his face. "My place isn't far from here, and this here's my neighbor's property. I saw your flashlight and thought someone was skulkin' around while he's out on a huntin' trip up north. I was just tryin' to scare some trespasser, but…"
He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"I found you instead, hun."
That hit you dead center, practically knocking the wind out of you. For years, you remembered him as that sweet little boy, but of course he'd grown up, just as you had. So it was hard to reconcile the idea that he'd grown into this tall, lumberjack-looking, sweet talker of a man.
It just wasn't fair, the way he was looking at you. He made your face feel like it was on fire.
"I really did a number with all that, didn't I?" He picked a leaf out of your hair, brushing dirt off your shoulder. You froze, finding yourself hyperaware of his touch. "What're you doin' out here in the middle of the night anyway?"
It was a long story, you said with a sigh.
"At any rate, we should get back to the cabin." He held out a hand. You took it without a second thought and he started to lead you through the trees.
"And I'd turn off that flashlight." He noted with a frown. "Never know what's wanderin' around out here.
With anyone else, you would've felt uneasy about what was practically a stranger leading you in the dark. But as crazy as it sounded, you trusted him. You always had. His rough, weathered palm held tight to your own as you kept close, so much on your mind.
What had his life been like for the last fifteen years? What kept him in the same woods you met him in? Had he grown up happy and loved? All things you'd wondered as you'd grown up on your own, thinking about that lonely little boy.
He'd never forgotten that day when he'd found the crying, injured little thing in the woods. He was young then, he didn't understand anything. It was before his father taught him how the world really worked.
When he was small and helpless, he couldn't stop his father from taking you away from him. You'd been with him in that cabin for three days. The two of you ate together, you slept in his bed with him, and he showed you how to start a fire. You'd seemed so surprised about how he could do so much on his own. He wanted to ask you so much about what it was like to grow up outside the forest, but if he asked you about your family, you would get this faraway look in your eyes and start crying again.
He never knew what to do when you cried. His father never let him cry. So when you curled up into yourself, weeping because of something he'd asked, it made him feel so helpless. When he came too close, you would grab him and hold on tight, and while he still felt confused, he held you right back.
His father came back on the third sunrise, just like he'd said.
He took one look at you and he'd gotten so… angry.
"Junior." he said in the tone that let Kurt know he'd done the wrong thing. "Look at me."
He grabbed his son by the arm, forcing the boy to face him. He wasn't loud, he didn't yell, but his voice used to make Kurt feel this intense fear that stabbed at his insides. The grip he had on him was starting to hurt, but he knew what would happen if he tried to pull away, even as young as he was.
That someone would be looking for a kid.
He was furious with what he'd done. He told his son that he knew that he was never supposed to bring anyone back to the cabin. If he saw someone, he was supposed to hide and tell his father.
He said what Kurt had done was stupid, reckless.
If they came looking, they would find the bodies.
He grabbed you, and you fought him, screaming. One hit with the butt of his rifle and you went down hard. Kurt yelled and cried and begged him to give you back, that you were his. But his father just grabbed him again and squeezed tight, the pain shooting up his arm. The look his father gave him when he cried in pain… disgusted with him, telling him that he was soft like his mother.
"Did you tell them your name?"
The biggest rule he was never to break. He wasn't supposed to talk to outsiders, he wasn't supposed to let them follow him back, and he was NEVER to tell them his name.
If he did, his father would kill you like everyone else he hunted in those woods.
"Junior, answer me now."
"No, I did not, sir." He lied, making sure the pain in his arm didn't make him cry again.
He had his hunting dog Missy guard him while he took you away. He'd already been gone for days, and food ran out quickly. It was all to punish him for betraying his father. He couldn't ask him whether he'd killed you or not, but he didn't keep any of your things, and he didn't wait a long time to hunt again like he did after he killed someone.
He never saw you again, until now.
You were older, of course, but you were still weak. Scared. You needed to be protected. Seeing you again made him feel something… he wasn't sure what exactly it was.
But his father was gone now. That man took his mother from him, then he took you away. He held onto his loss and rage until he was stronger than him. He thought his son was beaten down, scared into loyalty, that he would keep making himself useful to his father.
Keep helping him kill anyone he chose to. That he needed to.
So he never saw his axe coming.
No one was left who could take away what was his.
He squeezed your hand tighter as he led you to the cabin. He knew your eyes wouldn't've adjusted to the dark yet, so when he felt you lean on him and cling to his side, it made him feel... excited.
He was glad that he hadn't hunted in a while, there wouldn't be any mess to clean up so you didn't get scared. His father used to tell him that one day he would need to choose from his prey and start a family to carry on what he'd taught Kurt. That he needed to keep up the family tradition.
There was a part of him that wanted to stop after his father was gone, but he… couldn't. There was something in him, deep down, that made him just like him. He wasn't cold and angry like his father was and he didn't want to hurt anyone, but he still…
Had to.
You would've been dead too if he hadn't seen it was you he'd hunted.
He'd already thought he'd lost you once. The warmth of your hand in his made him feel… Complete. Like that empty place inside that gnawed away at him from time to time was finally full.
He could finally keep you, like he'd always wanted.
Today was just the start of the rest of your lives together.
reader might have a bit of indirect transference with our boy here, they conflate the pain of losing their family with meeting him and held onto the memory of him in their grief and lonliness, and now it's all come flooding back
Kurt is just so jazzed that you're alive and he found you! he gets his best (and only) friend back! yaaayy!
given the gender-neutral nature of the reader, his dad probably didn't mean for Junior to pick this particular prey for making a family and keeping up the "family tradition", but Junior never was very good at following directions, like he didn't think he ever had to say "don't kill me specifically, son". that one was probably pretty important, pops
currently unsure of the relationship between Kurt's mom and dad. was it more or less consensual? was she aware of the killing? did he kill her or did she just pass? dad never told Kurt, talking's not his strong suit, and im not sure how young he was when she passed either. so that's up in the air for now
just a line of killers raising killers in isolation, a mix of raising them to believe that their urges are normal and not knowing any other way of living.
Kurt's name was proposed by @spiderfly-tree-rat on the discord, and it fit so well that nothing else would do. I didn't want him to just be Junior, even if he is a Jr., technically, but when you're thinkin up yandere names for fictional guys people might be into, Junior by itself isn't the name you think people will be messaging you like "Junior!! that's my wife lol, that's my stabby little golden retriever husband" it's just not the vibe lol
plus, no one calls him Junior anymore, literally, since Senior got axed
i can see future parts to this one being written if people are into Kurt, but nothing is written up as of now. it's currently a blank slate, but i can see great potential with him going full yandere on his hun
also, optional, but in his brain, i think the full beloved's nickname is "hunny bunny", it's a bit too "bunny being chased through the woods by the wolf" fic vibe, but you know what, it's canon now. i typed it out and talked myself into it. he calls the reader hun, but in his brain it's the full thing. Kurt means wolf anyway and im leaning into the cringe element, fight me lol
honestly, i just thought it would sound nice in the possible slight accent im giving him with the present participles ending in apostrophes, plus i love hun, hun is cute)
header is edited from the manga Solo Camping for Two, p much because of the woodsy setting and the main character having a beard lol, it's a cute manga, but the main girl makes a terrible, anime-esque first impression in chapter 1 and the fanservice is a bit gratuitous early on, but i love specific interest manga
Still trying to keep a low profile, you are once again out in the city. Just one random face in a sea of strangers. But by now, you've learned that it's wise not to dismiss what feels like "just being paranoid". Someone is following you, and you're starting to miss your weird internet stranger...
Parts: [ 1 / 2 / x ]
[content warning for depicted violence and mentions of violence/murder and sexual situations, not for readers under 18]
It’d been a long time since he’d lost control like that.
Staring at the drain, he silently watched the water circle it. He couldn’t remember if he’d ever killed someone if it wasn’t to sleep. It felt… different.
He’d killed someone just because he was mad.
Because he hated them.
Because they got in the way of you.
And…
He would do it again.
He’d had the thought to himself that the reason he wanted you with him, wanted you at all, was so that he could sleep. That the intense need he felt was some baser instinct of his to help control the things he couldn’t, to make his life easier.
But now that you were gone, killing didn’t seem as… effective as it used to be.
The voices were already creeping back in, and he felt exhausted. And even with the blood of his former employer still all over the motel bathroom, sleep felt just as out of reach.
Had he built up some kind of resistance to his old band-aid solution?
Now, it looked like you were the only thing that would work, maybe… Or was this something else entirely?
Maybe…
He just needed you.
The heat of you next to him in the night. The stillness of his thoughts as he studied every detail of your face. The steady rhythm of your breathing as you held him close.
The beat of his heart under his hand as he steadied himself against the shower wall.
His other hand creeping down his chest, he closed his eyes as the uncomfortably hot water ran down the same path. The steam was becoming a bit suffocating, but it felt amazing on his sore muscles.
His breath caught in his throat when it was your hand replacing his own, drifting over his stomach, the sensation soothing his nerves after overextending himself.
It was you.
Calming the voices.
Consoling him.
Praising him.
Calling him yours.
Your lips grazing his jaw as your hand trailed down, your fingers ghosting over his skin.
He choked out a gasp as you whispered in his ear, your fingers wrapping around him.
You told him he looked so cute, all flustered, Colin gasping and panting as you bit his neck.
“Don’t… “ He cried out, biting his lip. “Don’t st… stoooop…”
A soft chuckle was all he could hear, his own moans and whimpers drowned out by the tinny hiss of the shower head.
It was all too much… You were talking to him the whole time, telling him exactly what he needed to hear to feel just a little bit more. More more more… He needed something, something else… It was right there. He just had to… had to-
You told him to let go, to give in to you. He chased after that feeling, his nails digging into his shoulder. You…
You were everything to him. He wanted… He wanted you. It wasn’t enough, but it was too much. Too much…
“Yes…” He moaned, muffled as he pressed his mouth to his shoulder, feeling so damn overwhelmed. “Please please please PLEASE-!!”
A strangled, choked sob escaped his throat, it felt like his whole body was in spasms, and he wished you were there to hold onto. He wished it was your shoulder he was biting instead.
“F-fuuuuck” He mumbled around his own skin. “I can’t… it won’t stop…”
His legs trembled and almost buckled under him, his hips bucking into a painfully empty space where you should’ve been, not just his hand. Panting hard, blood dribbled from his mouth onto his chest, circling the drain alongside everything else.
“Fuck…” he panted, his wet hair clinging to his face.
He felt like it’d been a long time since he’d done that. He wondered to himself if it’d always felt that intense…
Or was it because of you?
The water was getting cold. Maybe it had been for a bit. He couldn’t remember.
His thighs burned, but it felt… nice. So much warmer and almost… comforting compared to the burn he felt after a kill. He let the water roll over him for another minute or so to cool him down.
You were gone. You’d been gone that whole time, but the you that he’d seen, that he’d felt… they were gone now too. He stared at his own hands, wishing yours would come to him again.
You were… changing something inside him. He’d been so empty for the longest time, something about you-everything about you was filling him up, making him into something new.
He was thinking a bit more clearly lately. Just enough to… remember how to be a person again. Or at least… enough of a person to realize he needed to calm down. To get his head on straight long enough to figure out a few things.
. . .
“Yeah…” he sighed, pulling back the curtain. The floor, the sink, the mirror… Everything was still covered in blood. “There’s still so much to do…”
. . .
“It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve cleaned up…” he sighed, grabbing a towel for himself. “I know how to get rid of this. I need my tools…”
. . .
“There won’t be anything left when they come back.” He squeezed his eyes tight in frustration. “They won’t see. I wouldn’t scare them like that…”
There was a lot to do. But something stuck out to him.
“I guess I lost my job.” He hummed to himself. But spying what was left of his boss, he had an idea.
Being a small part of the motel’s business, he knew enough to keep things running, to keep up standing reservations with big regulars and creeps.
And given the kind of customers the boss catered to, it wouldn’t be… unthinkable that he’d crossed the wrong people and those same people were the new management of the place, the most hostile of all hostile takeovers.
And, if they just so happened to imply that the old boss was hiking up the rates and a bit too loose-lipped to the wrong people, which in fairness, he was… They probably wouldn’t mind staying again, if promises were made.
Of course, all new staff would be employed. No one left from the old regime. New cleaners, new front desk guy, so Ryan had to be let go. Same way his boss was, as far as they would know.
He would have to be a few new people, behind the scenes. But the money would all be his now, and with the right words to the right people, the real him would still go unnoticed. He could take just enough bookings to get by, plus it would lessen the chances of getting found out.
Chris could just not show up to his shift at the bar, and eventually they’d just assume he wasn’t coming back. He had too much to do here.
After all, the money would go a long way towards finding you.
The money you’d gotten had been some relief to your situation. The last few days had been… okay.
You’d used some of it to get a gym membership in cash and under a fake name. It was a cheap, reliable way to get a regular shower and a locker to store some of your stuff that was too risky to keep on your person. The money would also go a long way at a few different cheap hostels for about a month or so. You could afford some cheap food and the occasional trip to a laundromat, the one downtown with the broken cameras, but all of it was just a temporary fix.
You still had to hide like a scared animal. Your old life was so far away now, it almost seemed like a completely different reality. There was no looking for a permanent place, no job search, no trying to figure out what you would do long term. Though that was probably the smartest thing to do, it just… wasn’t really possible then.
Anyone you spoke to could be the person that would later realize who you were and who was looking for you and then it would all be over. So you never walked the same route anywhere, and you never stayed anywhere more than an hour, all the while watching doorways and jumping at every sound.
You didn’t used to be so jumpy.
Back when things were normal.
You tried not to let your mind wander often, because if you did, it usually went back to the same place.
The small motel room.
The safe and secure feeling.
The warmth of him against you.
The sound of him mumbling in his sleep.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to tell yourself it was for the best. You would’ve had to leave eventually. That you couldn’t stay in one place for too long.
No matter how safe and hidden away you felt you’d been.
No matter how much you maybe kind of regretted leaving.
First, it was this instinctual fear, the cold, panicked feeling of someone looking at you from somewhere you couldn’t see.
In the past, you would’ve just dismissed it as feeling anxious. But lately, being paranoid had been your saving grace as of late.
A few days later, some of your things in the gym locker seemed just slightly out of place, just enough to set off alarm bells.
Not long after that while walking to your hostel, you noticed footsteps behind you. Alert to their presence but not initially suspicious, you slowed your pace just a bit. Sure enough, the unseen stranger down the sidewalk slowed, their steps falling in line with yours. Another test, your pace a tiny bit faster, and suddenly it was obvious someone was following you.
Quickly cutting through an alley at random, you circled back a few blocks and headed in a completely new direction, successfully shaking your tail.
You canceled your stay through your phone, booking another on the other side of town and taking only side streets to get there. You didn’t know who had been behind you, but you didn’t get to sleep that night, your mind racing with the worst possibility.
If it had been some random mugger or worse, it would almost be a relief. But you couldn’t help but suspect the obvious.
That someone had found you.
In the voices and noises of the city streets, you could swear you heard your name. No one was calling out to you, it was more of a hushed whisper, like someone was noting where you were or telling someone else about you. It was so faint you almost wondered if you imagined it. But that wasn’t the way to think when you were actively hiding yourself away.
Little things kept piling up, and you were more on edge than ever. But there wasn’t much you could do about it other than try to stay hidden.
Every time you had to go out into the city, it was agonizing. You were no longer just scared, you were tired.
Tired of always having your guard up. Tired of lying awake at night, wondering if tomorrow would be the last day you’d be able to hide. Tired of all of it.
You didn’t deserve any of it, you didn’t do anything wrong…
But you still were being made to suffer like you were, and you didn’t know how much longer you could do it.
You were leaning against the side of a beaten-up food truck downtown, waiting on your order. No cameras, no names, cash only, and you couldn’t get cornered. A quick getaway was easier here than if you’d gone indoors somewhere with exits that could get blocked.
But it meant that the cold air was beginning to bite at your fingertips. It wouldn’t be too long until you were warming them up with your order as you walked back to your room for the night. Your breath would have to do for now, wispy puffs of it slipping from between your fingers and up into the air. It was a quiet moment where you could just breathe.
But it didn’t last for long.
“I knew it.”
Your first instinct was to run. You practically threw yourself off the side of the truck when your frantic gaze finally found where the voice had come from.
But you froze, your voice caught in your throat.
It was Colin.
“I thought that was you.” he seemed so relieved, like he’d been so… worried?
And there was that smile you couldn’t stop thinking about, and you could feel that same familiar warmth in your chest, despite the cold.
But you felt stuck. How was he here? In a city with millions of people in it, what were the chances that the two of you would run into each other again?
“It’s good to see you.” He stood in place, maybe seeing how nervous you seemed. “Are you… good?”
You didn’t know how to answer him. You wanted to talk with him, maybe just to be near him again, maybe just to hear his voice. But it wasn’t safe out in the open. You didn’t know who exactly was after you, or what they wanted with you, but that meant you also didn’t know if they would hurt Colin if they saw you with him.
He took your silence for what it was.
“Hey, are you free? Can we talk?” He asked, looking hopeful.
A beat, then you nodded. But you told him it couldn’t happen right then. You checked your phone, asking him if you could meet him in an hour.
“Okay!” He quickly agreed, not even trying to hide his nervous smile. “Where should we meet?”
Just to be safe, not to say it out loud, you told him to meet you where the two of you’d first met, your “special place”. He grinned, saying the phrase to himself under his breath as started to walk off.
He froze, thinking something over, before stepping back to you quickly and taking your hand in his, giving it a squeeze.
“Promise you’ll come?” You’d never seen what could almost be called “puppy dog eyes” on a grown man before, but they were practically pleading with you as he held your hand.
It was cheesy, but your heart raced. You hoped he didn’t notice you trying to avoid eye contact.
You agreed, and though he seemed reluctant to let go, eventually he did, and you watched him slip away into the crowd.
A few minutes later, the food truck vendor called your number, and normally you weren’t one to eat on the move, but you felt like you needed to get moving.
It was a bit of a trek to the motel, and you took a lot of side streets jut in case, but there weren’t a lot of places in the city where you knew you wouldn’t be spotted. And a lot of the public transportation had cameras, so walking was really your only option nowadays. But you also just… wanted to go back there again. Once you finally got there, it all just felt…
Right.
You’d been so on edge the last few weeks, you never really felt safe anywhere. Every new room or building was just a place you could exist. But here, you felt like you knew what everything meant. Like it was all going to be okay.
And you knew it was because of him.
Just like that first night, he answered the door, but he was almost like a different person.
He was still kind of a mess, but there was something in his eyes. He looked less… lost. Kinder. Much less nervous. But the way he looked at you had changed the most.
You weren’t afraid of him, or what he might do. Not anymore.
“I didn’t know you were coming, so this is all I have…” He handed you a mug, the little pod coffee machine having just finished up.
You smiled, telling him it was okay. The coffee was wonderful after you’d been out in the cold. He was making a cup for himself now, trying to choose between the little pod flavors.
The machine whirred away as it made his coffee, he looked like he was trying to say something, but it seemed like he finally tried because as he stirred in a bit of sugar, he let it out.
“I… I really missed you.” He muttered, maybe hoping you wouldn’t hear him. But he perked up with this bright, dumbstruck look when you finally said that you’d missed him too.
“You did?” He seemed genuinely surprised, like he would’ve never expected you to say that in a million years. “That… that makes me kinda happy, won’t lie…”
A minute of somewhat awkward silence as he finished preparing his coffee, you still sipping away at yours with a comfortable smile behind the mug where he couldn’t see. It had been a bit since you’d been able to smile like this.
“How, uh… How are you holdin’ up these days?” he asked, plopping down next to you.
The almost automatic, small talk response of “Fine” nearly slipped past your lips, but even the thought of saying it felt so… upsetting? Wrong? Like you didn’t want to lie to him.
Colin seemed to pick up on the change, because his face clouded with worry. Setting his coffee down, his hand crept towards yours, hesitation, then his fingers brushed yours. Despite yourself, despite all your uncertainty, you laced your fingers with his.
Everything just kept spilling out of you. You finally told him about everything. How you’d just been a normal person living a normal life and then it all changed in an instant. How you’d been out on the streets for a long while, how you were hiding from someone-or maybe a few someones, you weren’t sure-who wanted to hurt you? Or track you down, at the very least. There was so much you still didn’t know.
And how you just couldn’t keep it up. How every day felt worse than the last and it was just so hard to keep going, or… to keep finding a reason to at all.
Suddenly, you were pulled against him, pressed into his chest as he held you close to him. A pang of guilt in your gut, you hadn’t meant to dump that particular feeling onto him. But, when you’d reflexively tried to apologize, you couldn’t even finish the word “sorry” before he held on tighter, shaking his head.
He held you for a long while. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have fallen asleep to the sound of your heartbeat, and you could see the appeal now. When you finally pulled back, you’d calmed down a bit. With him so close, you really got a good look.
It was impossible not to notice the state of him. His disheveled, greasy hair and the slump to his posture, the horribly tired look in his eyes. The dark circles were just as bad as the day the two of you’d met.
You asked him.
Did he not find someone else?
“Someone else?” he asked. He seemed confused.
Someone else to sleep beside, after you were gone.
His palm held your cheek so gently. His hands were a tiny bit cold, but you found that you didn’t mind.
“I didn’t look,” he sighed. “Ever since you left, I’ve just been… surviving.”
That same pang of guilt hit you. Did he really not? Or was he just trying to seem…
Loyal? Committed? But why?
“I was really hoping I’d see you again.” His hand left you, and you hated how you wished it wouldn’t. “You just left without saying goodbye.”
Some part of you was still trying to push him away, telling yourself that you didn’t owe him a goodbye. That it wasn’t your fault if he had felt…
Disappointed? Empty? Maybe even a bit abandoned…
It felt both wrong and cheap when you offered a simple apology, when you told him you didn’t know if you could do it when he was there. But…
“But you had to move on.” he offered, a tired smirk silently telling you he understood. Or at least you hoped. “I was kind of worried though… Your note made it sound like you were in some kinda trouble…which I guess was true.”
The note that you’d rewritten so many times that day, you’d been worried you’d run out of time before Colin got back that day. It had so briefly explained your situation, and what you thought he needed, and maybe deserved, to know.
Colin,
I have to leave, and you’re reading this, so I’m already gone, I hope.
It’s not safe for me to stay in one place for too long.
I want to, but I can’t stay.
I felt safe here, with you. You don’t know how much that meant to me these days.
I know you’ll find someone to help you sleep, but it can’t be me anymore.
Thank you for helping me,
And when you’d been about to sign your name at the bottom, you’d worried, maybe needlessly, that it would leave a sign of where you’d been. If the wrong person could see it, Colin could get caught in the middle of all this.
But it felt wrong not to.
So you did.
It was just a simple thing meant to be a simple goodbye, to make leaving him seem easier. But it hadn’t gotten any easier.
Colin seemed uneasy with how quiet you were being. He seemed to be searching for what to say, but he was getting… sidetracked.
You noticed his eyes kept darting down, then sharply meeting your gaze with a few flustered blinks, like he was trying so hard not to be obvious.
He was watching your lips. And when your eyes lowered with an amused grin, you swore he blushed all the way to his chest.
“S-sorry, I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. You… You just, well, more like I just got uh…”
You offered one word: Distracted? And he squeezed his eyes shut in a panic, lips pressed in a thin line as he dragged a hand down his face.
You didn’t know where it was coming from, but you boldly asked him:
Do I distract you?
“Yes.”
You froze, wondering if you’d heard him right. His eyes were avoiding yours, but his words were more direct than you’d ever heard from him.
“I can’t stop thinking about you…” He muttered behind his hand, still looking away. “ I never stopped.”
It was such an uncharacteristically forward thing for him to say that for a moment, you just froze. While you were still processing it, he kept going.
“I’ve lost so much of myself. I barely knew who I was anymore. But with you…” His breath was shaky, and he was idly tugging at a loose thread in the bedspread. “With you, I can feel myself becoming… a person again.”
Before you could ask him what he meant by that, he still wasn’t finished.
“If you leave, everything… it’ll all go back.” he muttered. “Back to what it was, who I would be… I… I don’t want to go back to that. You’re the only thing keeping me here.”
You questioned: Here?, your eyes darting to the room around the two of you.
“No!” He sounded pained, dipping his head in exasperation, looking so worn down. “No… no, here. Here.”
He held his head in his hand, breathing heavier.
“It’s been so long since I’ve been here, really fully here, w-without anything creeping in.” The room was so eerily, suffocatingly quiet apart from his forced words. “If I go back there now, it’ll be so much harder to find my way back. Here. To you.”
You weren’t sure you really understood the panic in his words, but if you being here really was helping him, even a bit…
Taking his hand in yours, your thumb grazed the back of his hand as you figured out what to say.
“I need you…” he whispered, looking almost ashamed of himself.
You told him the same. You needed him. And that was the truth.
His eyes were wide, and then it was your turn to avoid him looking at you.
And… more than that…
You felt your face getting hot, but you pressed on and said it.
More than that, you wanted him.
You felt his hand on your cheek, and his lips swiftly pressed to yours.
It was intense and sudden, but it was true. You wanted him. Grabbing his shirt, you pulled him closer, softly moaning against his lips.
“I want you… It’s been so long… since I wanted anyone… Anything.” he gasped between each kiss.
Somehow, you knew what he meant. Running for so long, wanting someone… something, was practically a luxury. You had to focus on what you needed, what would keep you alive and safe.
But Colin…
Needing him was easy.
You wanted every bit of him.
He pulled back, just enough to pepper your cheek, your jaw, your neck, your shoulder with those same desperate kisses.
“Stay…” he pleaded, pressing himself close to you. “Please… stay with me. It hurts…”
He held your hand to his chest, and you could feel how hard his heart was pounding. His head dropped to your shoulder, the heat of his breath on your neck.
“It hurts when you’re not with me… When you disappeared, it felt like my heart got ripped out. Everything was so… numb.”
He kissed at your neck, pressing in further when you scrunched up at the sensation.
“I won’t let you go again.” He muttered into your skin, his teeth grazing it as he panted. “Stay with me… here.”
His lips on yours again, his hand crept to your thigh. Hesitant. Waiting for some sign of your discomfort or rejection.
But it never came.
You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, pulling him with you as you leaned back. He pulled back, still panting, his eyes searching your face.
You told him to stop worrying. That you weren’t going anywhere.
“Are you up?” A soft voice called to you, the light of the new morning spilling into the room through the blinds.
Half-awake, you pressed yourself against his chest, tucking yourself further into the arms wrapped around you.
You stirred at the laugh he couldn't help but let out, a deep rumble in his chest under your head. Running his fingers through your hair, you seemed to settle at his touch, sighing softly against him. He wondered if you were really asleep or just being stubborn.
“You’re holdin’ on tight… such a cuddlebug… Bug. My lil’ lovebug.” he muttered to himself, a hand rubbed soft, little circles in the small of your back. “… It’s hard to believe you’re actually mine, bug. All mine…”
He kissed the top of your head, and you smiled a little bit in your sleep. He had to bite his free hand to keep it under control, to keep it from touching you like he had that night. He missed your noises, the face you made when he kept getting you so close and then slowing down again, hearing you beg and plead for something you were too wound up to really put into words.
He hoped you would stay here with him this time.
He wanted you to be his, but he… he wasn’t sure he wanted to force you. Not yet at least.
He’d already crossed a line he couldn’t come back from. And he was going to keep that to himself. If you ever found out…
You’d been so hard to find.
He’d spent weeks putting out feelers for you. Looking around places to get cheap, warm food and a bed for the night. You stayed away from places with a lot of cameras and anywhere you had to be I.D.’d, so you weren’t gonna get found like that.
Using his new management persona, he’d asked around the bigger crime folks the old boss was associated with if anyone was trying to find you.
In an “office” downtown, which was really more of a crappy apartment above a seedy massage parlor, Colin met a man.
His business associates called him “The P.I.”. Whispers in the wrong circles said that this was the guy you hired when you wanted to find someone, but couldn’t risk a paper trail. He wasn’t cheap, and he was willing to get his hands dirty, but he usually got the job done. And discreetly at that. It helped that he wasn’t a real private investigator. Just some asshole who could get shit done.
“Now we can discuss things properly.” Colin sighed, wiping his knife on his jacket lining.
“I noticed you following them, and it was just too easy to follow you back.” He laughed. “And some contacts of mine said that you advertise yourself as a P.I., but really you’re a killer…”
But The P.I. didn’t respond. Or rather, he couldn’t.
“Now, I dunno your side of the story. Maybe you’re just some hired gun protecting your boss by tying up some loose ends. Maybe it’s person? Maybe you loved them and they rejected you, do you have a hard time takin’ no for an answer, my guy? Maybe someone else loved them and used you to get them back, whether they want to or not.”
He walked around to the back of the man, gasping on the floor, clutching at his neck.
“Hell, maybe you’re like me. Maybe you just want to kill. Maybe the thought of their blood between their fingers is the only thing that makes you feel alive. Part of me can understand that. Maybe…”
He groaned, crouching down.
“Maybe maybe maybe maybe…” Colin muttered, shaking his head. Dragging a hand down his face, skin tugging down with it, somehow soothed his tired eyes. “Too many unknowns, too many fuckin’ variables here. I’m done, ya know? With you gone, my little bug’ll feel safe. That’s all I give a shit about.”
The man’s eyes were darting around, like he was still trying to find a way out of this alive.
“Now… maybe- god, there’s that fuckin’ word again… But you might have friends, out there somewhere. They might want to get revenge, or finish what you started, for whatever the reason. So, nothing personal. But I think I’ll just…”
A sudden stab to the man’s gut, and a wet, gurgled scream somehow managed to escape.
“Yeah, I think I’ll use you to… send a message.”
. . .
He usually wasn’t one for theatrics in his kills. No fuss, no muss. They usually just “disappeared”. He had no impulsive, childish desires to play with them or open them up to see what made them tick.
You wouldn’t know it, looking at his handiwork here.
He made a mess. Nothing too dark, like a weirdo art project to taunt whoever would find him and care. But enough to say that whoever had hired him shouldn’t have.
He found a “file” on you, if you could even call it that. Photos, habits, ways to find you, names you might go by… How you were meant to be killed. Someone had hired that man. He sighed, not remorseful, but almost annoyed. He’d gotten a lot of… joy? Something like that, out of imagining he was killing a former lover of yours or another stalker, competition either way.
But, this also (annoyingly) meant that this wasn’t over.
A pause. His thoughts raced as he put the pieces together.
This meant…
This meant that you still needed him.
He’d come here with the intention of keeping you safe, he knew that. He’d considered not telling you he’d come here, or what he’d done, so you’d stay scared. Uneasy. Dependent.
So you’d stay with him. Lie next to him at night, hold him, be held by him.
But now, he wouldn’t need to lie…
Maybe…
Maybe… you’d even love him.
He smiled, biting his lip, your face the only thing he could picture. He’d never felt so… light. So… happy? Like the thought of you made him so detached from everything else in the world, tethered by you to everything he was or would ever be. You were everything.
Someone was looking for you. The details were under wraps, but someone out there was desperate to find you, and he knew that they wanted you dead.
And they had a rough idea of where you were.
He needed you. He wanted you. And once he knew why you were so closed off, why you’d built up those walls, he’d had an idea.
He would keep his eyes on you and anyone else after you, and steer them in the wrong direction. No one else was going to touch you.
So making you a little more afraid would leave you no option but to come back to him.
You needed someone to trust. And he needed you to trust him.
In the time you’d left him, whenever he’d see you freeze in your tracks on the street, trying not to let on how scared you were at whatever you did or didn’t really hear, his chest ached. He wanted to be with you, holding your hand, letting you know he was yours, that you’d be okay. But he couldn’t, back then.
Not until he was sure you were his. For good.
And he’d done it! He’d led you back to him. You were lying against him and he could feel your body heat, listen to the sound of your breathing, watch the rise and fall of your chest. And just as he'd felt before, he felt his muscles relax, his eyes felt heavy... You were here. And everything was exactly as it should be.
“You’re mine, Bug.” He kissed the top of your head, holding you in his arms. “I’m never lettin' you go again…”
it just kept gettin longer and longer, and then i kept having to go back and re-read my own writing to make everything at all coherent D:
but it's done! more Colin writing could happen, but this is the end of the "main" story. i will take writing suggestions/requests for Colin and his Bug, if only to get the creative juices flowing again
the nsft scene at the beginning is as explicit as im gonna get without like a sperate nsfw account i can verify ages on lol, i don't write a lot of straight up smut, and i like that kind of writing when things are more alluded to rather than relying on over-describing everything with words that make my little ace brain feel fried 😐 (it's not that bad lol, but i know some of y'all ain't 18, and trying to purge/verify 1000+ people sounds exhausting)
followers/reader who asked to be tagged, i remembered y'all :3 :
You are a royal mage given one job: To civilize the Emporer's newest captured monster for his collection. But the creature is more than it seems to be, despite his monsterous exterior. It seems like the creature is playing along, for now. But... why?
You sighed. His chin on your thigh like an overgrown puppy, you tried once more to get Cole to call you by your name.
“Why?” He huffed as he stuck his tongue out from between his fangs. “Little mage. My little mage."
He was getting to be very… possessive. It would be bad to let it go unchecked if the Emperor were to get wind of it. You tried to discourage it all, telling him that you weren't his with a lighthearted smile. But just like the last time, your words only seemed to annoy him.
He hissed at you under his breath, warning you of his temper.
"Talk too much.” He'd decided. No story then. But he didn't remove his head. You began to idly stroke the back of his neck, and you finally felt him relax after a few minutes.
It would seem that you'd spoiled him rotten…
It had been two months since you’d first met the strange creature the Emperor’s men captured, and he’d just started to be allowed up in the gardens with the rest of His Majesty’s menagerie. You’d been specifically tasked with his care and with making him more “civilized”. At least enough so that he wouldn’t try and bite anyone’s arm off.
Again.
He’d come a long way since you finally coaxed him out of the dungeons, promising you’d be with him every day. It was your job to tame and care for His Majesty’s “curiosities”, after all.
That day, you’d been given a special assignment.
In the Emperor’s menagerie, there were creatures from all corners of the world, many of which the ordinary citizens of the empire had only heard stories of. The one thing that His Majesty coveted more than anything was creatures others considered rare and unusual. Some were magical in nature, others simply strange or dangerous. If it caught his eye, it was captured for the menagerie.
You were a mage in his court. Your magic wasn’t particularly strong, but you had a certain natural ability that was especially useful for the Emperor and helped build his collection. Monsters were abundant on the outskirts of the empire, and when you weren’t helping the knights to subdue the more destructive ones, you were the main caretaker for the creatures he kept.
In the depths of the Emperor’s dungeon lived his latest specimen. Usually the more harmless creatures were kept in the gardens behind the palace, but this newcomer was fairly… hostile, or so you’d been told. Some of the guards were muttering about its strength, several of them freshly bandaged up, looking fairly bruised and a bit bloodied but still standing.
None of them were surprised to see a lone mage make their way down. Your powers were well-known among the Emperor’s men. Descending the steep stairway, you found that you were a bit nervous. What if your ability didn’t affect this creature the way it did other creatures? There was only one way to really know, but if things went wrong…
Pushing out the unneeded thoughts, you finally stopped in front of the creature’s enchanted cell, forcing yourself to be ready for whatever might come.
The creature was chained by the neck to the wall, with just enough slack to get a bit closer. But there was no reaction from it at first. Either it somehow hadn’t noticed you or it… was ignoring you?
You observed it for a moment, making a mental note of its features. It was roughly twenty-one hands tall, not so monstrous in size, but just large enough to add to how inhuman it appeared. Dark scales surrounded a strangely expressive face, but with dark, oddly slitted eyes and horrifyingly sharp teeth. It had long, muscled limbs and a tail that thumped against the stone floor in annoyance. The large wings tucked at its sides had severe damage to the membranes, you’d been told it was how they brought it down, and how it wouldn’t be able to fly off again as long as they were torn.
You’d also been told it was a possibility that it was at least partially human. Whether it was the result of some profane union of magical beast and man or an ambitious dark magic ritual, no one was sure. But rather than fear or disgust, you felt… pity? Sympathy? You could only hope your ability could bring it some peace if it had any sense of self-awareness.
You called out to it, magic flowing through your voice. You could see its ear perk up, and when it finally looked at you, there was something behind its eyes. Something intelligent? Or did its expressive, human-like face trick your mind into believing that?
It tilted its head when you asked it to come closer. But curiosity seemed to win out as it started to stalk towards you. Looming with bared fangs, the creature dwarfed you completely. It was easily the size of a large draft horse, its stature and gait reminded you of a wyvern you’d helped to subdue once. Many of its features were draconic in nature, so you searched your mind for anything identifying.
Given its size and the rounded spines along its back, as well as its more humanoid facial features, you could hazard a guess that the creature was male. It had five digits on its front claws, and four on the back, long and dexterous-looking like a human but with blunt, dark claws on the ends. He was mostly covered in fine scales, but he had a mane of thick black fur that fluffed up at his chest, along with a curtain of dark hair hiding most of his face. His chest and underbelly was remarkably human, blending back into scales at his pelvis. He was hunched and on all fours, so it was hard to see some of his features, but he’d noticed you looking him over. He didn’t seem pleased.
He sniffed at you, and with quick thinking on draconic behavior, you bared your neck to it where smaller, weaker dragons would present to show subservience. On the chance your ability failed you, you needed to show him you weren’t a threat.
He took in your scent for an uncomfortably long time, his nose was unbearably hot on your skin. He seemed to be debating biting your throat, whether it was because he was agitated or scared, or maybe just because he could. But breaking necks was a favorite opening move of draconic creatures, so you had to convince him faster.
You spoke again, telling him that he didn’t have to be afraid. He suddenly reeled back, tilting his head again.
“Afraid…” he huffed with a sneer. Your eyes wide, you were pretty sure you’d confirmed his human origins.
Dragons definitely could not speak. His voice was low and raspy, and his breath was insufferably hot and smelled like smoke. You briefly wondered if he could breathe fire, and if his body was built for that or if it would hurt him.
Not knowing how long you had before the Emperor's knights pulled you out, you asked him if he had a name.
He said his name was Cole. Or maybe it was Coal, but he didn’t seem interested in clarifying which it was for certain. You wondered who’d given it to him. His parents? Another dragon? A previous “owner”? As much as one could try to own a draconic creature, without the magic and military might that the Emperor had.
You could see he was eyeing you, but with what intentions you still weren’t sure. You told him that you would make sure he would be well taken care of here. He snorted, turning away from you dismissively.
“Little thing… Take care of… me?” You could swear the low, rasping sound he was making was a chuckle at the thought. It sounded funny to him, you supposed.
Despite whatever he thought, he would need you here. If he displeased the Emperor enough, nothing would protect Cole from his wrath. Not his rarity, his novelty or his draconic strength.
Your magic soothed creatures, making them more docile in your presence. Even the wildest beasts became meek and obedient. But it seemed like this strange monster was too human to be affected. But you had no idea if he was at least somewhat pacified by your magic or if he was just more agreeable than your average draconic creature.
You would have to observe him to make him suitable for the Emperor. Cole was a completely unique being that the world had never seen before. It would be a shame if you failed. For both Cole and yourself.
You had no doubt that the Emperor would have both your heads if you couldn’t tame him.
There were more than a few times where he feigned a lunge at you, seeming disappointed when you didn’t flinch. It was all just a game to him. He either didn’t recognize the level of danger he was in, or he didn’t care.
He wasn’t ready to meet the Emperor, not even close. He was still too unpredictable. And…
You weren’t sure if you should reveal the fact that he wasn’t some wild, unthinking beast.
Because, if you were being honest, he was more human than you’d originally thought.
He had moments of deep thought and introspection, and the more you talked with him, the more developed his language skills became.
“Con…stellations… ” He tilted his head, sniffing at the book you’d brought to teach him a bit, as well as to practice speaking.
You nodded, pointing out some illustrations with the help of a weak illumination spell. The dungeon was a terrible place for reading, you could only hope Cole would be allowed to roam the palace grounds before long. Plus, the horrendously long staircase was a nightmare to descend every day. Your legs were getting quite the workout though.
You had wondered what sort of life Cole had before he was captured. Did he used to be a human? Was he born this way? Who raised him? Did he have any sort of education? What did he know of the world? How did he see it?
You explained how travelers, sailors, and early explorers used constellations to find their way around the world. You pointed to a few of your favorite ones in the text illustrations. But it was all a bit pointless when you couldn’t see the stars with him.
You told him to hold on for a moment. Illusion spells weren’t your specialty, but you’d studied them in the Mage’s Tower and could pull them off with enough concentration. The air above your heads flickered with your magic’s light before blooming into a brilliant and luminous night sky.
Cole’s eyes darted from one cluster of stars to another, his expression changing from one of curiosity to a listless annoyance. The sight made your heart sink. What had you done wrong?
“Not the same.” he huffed, his tail thumping. Looking up at your illusion, you had a thought about what he could mean. He wasn't a mage or a spectator who would find this magic feat of yours impressive by your skill alone.
It was just a fakery to him. Worse than nothing.
You told him you were sorry, you knew it couldn't compare. It wasn't kind of you to show him a glimpse of something he wasn't allowed to see.
“Hmph…” He seemed to be thinking, but it didn’t seem like he was going to share. You felt your eyes getting heavy, and you stifled a yawn, making a mental note to wrap this up quickly so you could recover a bit before you were needed.
Cole knew he was trapped here… for now. It was humiliating, being chained up and kept as a human's prize. His wings had a constant ache in them as the membranes slowly healed. But the most humiliating part of everything was you.
His first instinct was to snap your limbs in his jaws and pin you to the ground, just to show you that he would not be controlled. But the usual rage he felt towards humans seemed to dim when you were around. You seemed to know he was trapped here and you took no joy in seeing him laid low, unlike the other warriors in this place. It wasn’t pity, but something else entirely.
Besides, if there was anyone to pity here, it was you.
He was trapped in this place. But so were you.
You were a tool, or worse, a curiousity of your master, and you did what he wanted out of fear. Because you were too weak to overthrow him. To tear out his heart.
You were pathetically small, completely unprepared to defend yourself, and you didn’t even seem to know it.
You bared your neck to him the first time you’d met him, for shit’s sake.
To his kind, that either meant you were prepared to die or…
You had smelled rather nice... He’d decided at that moment that you were more interesting to him alive, and he’d been right. You’d kept coming back to him, trying to pacify and entertain him, and it was fun to watch you keep trying. More fun than the blustering idiots or cowardly servants that either came by to try and intimidate him or deliver his meals.
You’d tried telling him stories from those little “books” that you always carried around, but the words didn’t matter much to him, he was more interested in just hearing your voice. Sometimes, you would go quiet and start to trail off, seeming like you were disheartened by his obvious lack of interest. His eyes still closed, he would nudge you with a claw to your back, a silent note to keep going. You would laugh and keep reading, and that laugh was slowly becoming his favorite sound.
He would get out of this place. And he would take you with him, he decided.
There was no debating it with himself, no logic behind it, no real plan, even. He just... wanted you. So he was going to have you. And that was that.
He was suddenly aware of your silence. He craned his neck to see that you had dozed off against his side. You’d tucked yourself into him, his battered wing pulling you closer.
He promised himself that when he got out of this place, he would show you the stars that painted the night's sky over his homeland. Much more impressive than a little light show or some drawing in a book.
Still horribly groggy, you were pulled out of it by the shouts of the knights.
“Release the mage, foul demon!!”
“Back! Get back, monster!!”
Cole had tucked you into his chest, seemingly ignoring the knights as they continued to shout at him. You blinked up at him with heavy eyelids, his own eyes eerily staring down at you.
With a sigh, you called out to the knights, telling them you were just fine, you’d just nodded off. They watched you yawn and get up with a satisfying stretch, eyes nervously darting to Cole like he would strike at any moment.
“His Imperial Majesty has summoned you, Court Mage.” one of them announced, earning a glare from Cole. You nodded, making your way out when you felt a tug. He was biting the back of your robes, trying to tug you back, a deep, unsettling growl ringing out from his throat. This rattled the knights, but you shut everything down before it escalated again.
You told him you would be back soon and to be good. He knew he was being condescended to, but he let go anyway. He held out the book you’d brought with you, his hand dwarfing yours as you took it back. But before you could turn away, his mouth idled by your ear as he whispered to you so softly that the knights couldn't hear.
“Soon… little mage." His smoky breath was hot on your neck. His voice was low and sent a strange feeling down your spine, something somehow between terror and comforting warmth you couldn't name. He nudged his head on your cheek and snapped you out of it. The self-satisfied look on his face made you roll your eyes as you walked away, looking back one more time before leaving with the knights. He was curling up into himself to rest, but a lone eye stayed fixed on your retreating form.
The knights were muttering to each other as they escorted you back to the main hall. You heard bits and pieces like "dangerous" and "monster". They were frightened of him, like any sane person should've been. But Cole was too… human to really frighten you. But that word wasn't quite right… You laughed to yourself at the irony of that thought. Humans were their own sort of dangerous, their own sort of monsters, you thought. You'd dealt with too many of that sort to think very highly of the average person. But Cole wasn't human. He was something different. Maybe even something new.
Whatever he was, his company was something precious to you already. And if you wanted him to stay alive, you had to get him suitable to be in his "master's" presence. And soon.
You sniffed at your robes, noting that you smelled like smoke, the same scent that you knew too well from spending all your time with a certain creature.
There wasn’t enough time to change, so you hoped His Majesty wouldn’t take offense.
When those knights had busted in and started trying to grab for you, he had to resist the urge to bite their heads off with a single snap of his jaws. They were trying to take what was his, and it made the fire in his core start to rise up his throat and the flames lick at his fangs. He wanted to utterly ruin anyone who would take you from him.
He composed himself, something that was getting harder and harder to do. he still needed to play along. His tail thumped idly on the stone floor of the dungeon as he let his thoughts settle. These humans, you included, wanted him to be something else. The thought made his skin itch under his scales, made his claws dig into the stone.
But it made him think... If he appeared to be "tame", he could leave this place. He would probably just be exchanging one cage for another, but it would mean he would be one step closer to you.
And he had something valuable: knowledge. He knew their weapons now, how they would move to take him down. He was ready, and he knew their fear of him was was something he would have to balance carefully.
If he could put himself into your world, you would be with him all the time. Then if he could just see the sky, let his wings heal... He could pretend to be this tame, stupid thing for the master of this land, a pretty trinket in his hoard.
Then he would steal you away. If he had to take on those little knights and bite out their throats to take you, he would. If he needed to take on the army that brought him down before, he would roast them alive in their armor this time, no survivors. If it meant having to tear the master of this land in two and leave this land in chaos, then so be it.
He would get to have you and his revenge all in one fell swoop. The thought made him feel warm and cozy in the depths of this dank hell. He dreamed of you again that night.
(the spellcheck on tumblr's post editor is just gone? so please excuse any spelling errors until i find and correct them, thanks ✌️)
the Emperor's gonna be pissed if you can't get this crap under control... hope that doesn't come back to bite you, in one way or another...
originally, Cole's yandere nickname was "mine", as i wrote this before the merman Yandere of the Day, and decided it fit the merman better and Cole's nickname got more specific, but i like it
header (which i would love to say will be temporary but i've made that claim before lol) is an edited panel from a manga called "The Monster and the Beast" by author and artist Renji Range (which i read forever ago so i couldn't tell you if it's good, but i don't remember it being bad) (doing manga panel with credit this time, still trying to stick to my promise of no more AI headers) and if i was editing it on my desktop and not my phone, i would've added a stone wall texture to the background, but it will work for now
i imagine Cole's not quite as human-shaped as this guy, more dragon features, but my brain wants to mix in the full-on bird beast form of Howl from Howl's Moving Castle, but no matter how i draw Cole, he doesn't come out quite right. when he's all hunched over on all fours he looks more monsterous, but upright, he looks more like a human. unsure how human his face really is, that's up in the air. he has both scales and fur, and hair (which is he only feature i kept from the example header)
is he a hybrid born from some dragon/human coupling? (hopefully implying that full-blooded dragons are not stupid animals like people think)
is he the result of some horrifying dark magic ritual meant to do somethin like steal a dragon's power but it turned the subject into a monster and then he killed everyone else involved?
is he something entirely new, like not really a dragon at all, just a monster that's just fully sapient?
who can say?
i'd like to think that actual dragons are insanely rare in this world, it's more likely that you'd see lesser dragon-types like wyverns and drakes than full-blown dragons, so if he's an actual hybrid, it's probably of one of those kinds of creatures, but the Emperor wants Cole either way, cause he's the only creature like him around
i read the phrase(s) draconic creature/entity once in a fanfic and now it's burnt into my brain. just covering the full spectrum of dragon creatures and not just dragons. wyrms are cool too, you guys :c
i tried a draft where he was more human shaped based on a drawing i did while trying to figure out his look, and it wasn't quite right and kinda morphed into a whole 'nother character lol for a different story, i guess. so he's pretty monster-shaped, think more hunched but still human-ish, like a werewolf maybe? it's still hard to picture even after like a dozen attempts at a sketch D:
i have an idea for a part 2, where things go to hell and more definite romance stuff happens, this chapter was pretty tame, if you're not into more monsterous love interests, you're in the wrong place lol
this has been in my drafts for a long time, but i got a bit of inspiration to finish it finally, hope someone enjoys it
I Think My Cute Co-Worker Got Taken Over By an Alien Hive Mind
On a mission and aboard a ship in space, your only real friend there is the cute and shy janitor. After an accident where he crashed on a nearby planet, he's been acting very... strangely.
Parts: [ x / 2 ]
(just a teensy bit of nsfw implications in the dialogue here, nothin explicit)
You're a scientist on a long-term space expedition. It's mission is to find possible inhabitable new worlds for humanity to live on in the future. Your job is to monitor and research environmental factors that could pose a threat to your crewmates and the mission and find ways to make planets more livable.
There are security officers, miners, your fellow scientists and researchers, the doctor and her assistant, a couple of maintenance androids for the ship and of course the crew who navigate and serve on the big hunk of metal you're all zipping through space on. On that crew is the ship's custodial worker.
You're not so snobbish to undervalue the importance of a clean living environment, especially in the medical wing and your own lab, but there are some on the ship that treat him like he's invisible or like he's not important just because he's not the brains or muscle on board. He comes and cleans up in your lab every day before dinner, and while sometimes you're too busy to really spend any time chatting, you do enjoy the talks you get to occasionally have.
Sometimes you're so busy that you end up working through dinner, and when you finally pull yourself out of it, you find quick and easy dishes ready for you well past the allotted mealtime. He always leaves a little candy from his personal stash alongside them, so you know it's from him.
He's a bit shy, and very quiet, but he always seems to light up whenever the two of you get to talk. You heard a rumor that he's the son of some business associate of one of the benefactors of the mission, and he just needed a job. Another rumor that he was a bit of a screw-up back on Earth and needed a fresh start somewhere far away. But to you, he was just your friend.
If you were being completely honest, you might've had a bit of a crush on him. He was just so kind and genuine, compared to the self-important scientists you spent every day with. And he was pretty cute, behind the baggy janitorial uniform and the dirt that sometimes smeared his face. He was sweet and he seemed to always be thinking of you, and he was one of the only things in your life that made you smile.
There was a mishap one day, a near cataclysmic crash where six members of the mission crew were dislodged from the ship and fell into the low orbit of the nearby uninhabited planet.
He was the only survivor. He'd managed to land in a strange body of water where the density levels were so high that he hit the water mostly safely and stayed afloat until rescue. A broken arm and a minor head wound plus a slight concussion, but he was alive.
Other people on the crew seemed almost angry that out of the six people lost, including the ship's first mate and a researcher, the janitor was the one to survive. But you were just so happy he came back to you.
But after that day, your friend had... changed.
He was smooth and cool, almost confident? A little awkward still, but he carried himself differently. Almost like he was an entirely different person.
And he was... a lot more forward with you. Despite being so happy he was alive and even glad that he was making a move on you finally, you couldn't help but feel like something was wrong with him.
One day, he came in to clean your lab like every day and when you asked him how he was feeling, his arm still in the quick-print cast and the stitches on his forehead still healing, he just smiled.
"I'm fine." he smiled at you, standing a bit too close. "I missed you..."
You joked with him that he just saw you that morning, and he smiled that same smile.
"I've been thinking about you..." He held a lock of your hair in his fingers, seeming almost entranced by it. "My thoughts are damn near consumed by you, love."
You couldn't help the warmth that sprung to your cheeks. He was standing so close, and while he was acting odd, he was still that same considerate, sweet man.
"I want to touch you..." His voice was low and hit just right. You wanted it too, but you faltered. You told him that you weren't sure... that something felt wrong.
"Just let yourself go..." he smiled, caressing your cheek, his other hand holding your wrist. "I want you... Let me feel you."
Wrong. It felt wrong. He wasn't that type of guy. This...
You smiled, putting your hands on his chest. You told him that you were in charge here, pushing him back slightly with an authority you weren't used to wielding. But you stayed calm. Your hand lingered on his chest, pressing him against the wall.
He bit his lip, such a confident face... it only confirmed what you feared. Taking a step back, you ordered him to not move, he needed to be good for you. Your gaze still locked onto his, you pulled up a holo-screen, locking down your analyzer containment field. His smile didn't slip, but his eyes darted around with a puzzled look in them.
"What are you doing, love?" His voice didn't seemed alarmed or even mildly concerned. "Locking me up? If you wanted me all to yourself, all you had to do was ask..."
You told him you didn't know what he was up to, but you weren't fooled by him. He wasn't your friend.
"What do you mean?" He pressed his hands to the shielding, like he was testing it while still talking to you, placating you. "It's me... Let me out, love."
You told him your friend, even if he wanted you, would never push past your boundaries like that. He was sweet and considerate, and the kindest man you knew. While whatever this was had been ready to hold you down to get what it wanted.
You started your scans while it just talked to you, but you didn't respond.
An hour had passed. If anyone found out what you were doing, they would deem it too risky and demand he be ejected from the ship. It wasn't like this was the captain you were scanning, or a fellow scientist. The mission could afford to lose him. But you couldn't.
"Let me out." It still wore your friend's smile, but there was something in it's eyes. Something... old. Something consuming him. "Let me touch you, love. I want to feel your warmth."
Your hands danced across the holographic screen, lining up your scanners. Usually they'd been used for scanning minerals and water sources to make sure they were safe for humans, but they were equipped with biological scanners in the case of the med-bay's destruction or shut-down. You were looking for what ever could be possessing your dear friend.
Something had been in that water, you were sure of it.
"We need to taste you..." It's tongue lolled out from it's mouth, panting and dripping saliva. "One taste, that's all we need. And then you'll be part of us. No more worries, no more searching, no more fighting to survive... you'll finally be free."
When you didn't respond, it laughed.
"We know how much you want him." It almost seemed to be taunting you now. "We can smell it on you... Don't you want to know what it's like? His lips on yours? His touch on your skin? You've been so isolated on this ship... long, cold endless nights with no one beside you. We know his mind, love. It's plagued by thoughts of you. Oh, how he spent night after night... positively enraptured... consumed with the mere possibility of your attentions. Your affection... Your toucccchhhh..."
You tried to shut out his words as your scanners looked for a way to stop this, to get him back, but the thing inside him seemed unbothered. Almost amused.
"He loves you..." It laughed. "It's an intense, burning thing. He wants nothing more than to feel you under him, in the throws of his LOVE... Your nails digging into his back, screaming his name... His obsession is what let us in... So singularly-minded... It was almost too easy..."
"We came into his body, his mind... it was hard not to be consumed by the thoughts of you. His wants became our wants. We are one, love. His love, OUR love... Be ours, and nothing else will matter..."
You paused. The thing inside him, It was speaking in the present tense. Like he was still in there somewhere. Or at least he wasn't dead. This thing wasn't possessing his lifeless body. It was in there with him. You felt more determined than ever.
You told it you would keep it here until you found out how to get it out of him. Even if you had to study him for days, weeks, you wouldn't stop until he was safe.
"You don't know how happy you've made him, love." It smiled, licking his lips. "He always wanted you looking only at him."
still working on CO3 but i needed to write this. i promise it's coming soon
can y'all guess what movie i went and saw that made me think of this one?
i've been thinking of a yandere that it actually some kind of possessing entity, and the idea latched onto a sci-fi vibe.
i wanted the header to reflect a darker haired, scruffier guy with a bit of chin hair who gives off a real loser vibe, but i usually source from other people's ai images (can't be copyrighted), and damn it all if they aren't all baby-faced little guys lol
You and your new... bedmate? Friend? Are starting to warm up to each other. But as safe as you're feeling, you can't help but wonder what his deal is. And if everything is actually okay here...
Parts: [ 1 / x / 3 ]
[content warning for depicted violence and mentions of violence/murder]
It was an awkward silence while your mind seemed to run through what he’d asked you. Weighing every option, every pro and con. He wanted to try and say something, anything that would be the right thing that would win you over and make you want to stay, but something told him to stay quiet, to let you come to him.
You’d asked him his name, and he’d been all too eager. Which was… unusual for him. He had different names he used for different people, so no one really knew him. But for you…
“Colin. My name's Colin.”
It felt right to tell you his real name, like he was starting to feel like himself again. He couldn’t help but smile when he heard you repeat it back to him. You were the only one who knew him now. And he wanted to know you too.
After another moment of horrible silence and then you agreed. You would stay another night with him. You did ask if you were fine to stay for a few hours before coming back, and while he wanted to say you could stay as long as you wanted, he reeled it in.
“Of course.” he realized he was still holding your hands, and he got it together, letting them go gently so as not to scare you off. “Take as long as you need.”
But you must’ve been exhausted because when he came back from the bathroom, you were asleep again. He wanted to lie next to you, so much that it hurt. It’d been so long since he’d wanted to sleep instead of desperately needing to. He wanted to hold you, or be held by you, lulled into the call of you until he was whole again.
He wanted to be with you. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted someone. Beyond how their death could bring him that momentary peace.
But if he was going to keep you around, he needed to get a few things.
You didn’t remember passing out again that morning, but when you woke up, you were alone. You spotted a note on the bedside table that said he’d be back in a bit.
You couldn’t help but be a bit afraid that accepting this strange deal was a stupid mistake. That you weren’t safe here.
It would be… okay if you had to go back out on the streets that night. Either situation was less risky than staying at a homeless shelter.
If you were recognized by the wrong person…
If you were found…
You shook off the sick, panicked feeling that hit deep in your gut. You’d kept yourself hidden so far. There’d been a couple close calls, but... you always got away. This place was safe, you kept telling yourself.
As you spiraled down, Colin came back. He had a few bags with him, smiling at you just as warmly as he had that morning.
You weren’t scared of him, not exactly, but it was hard to trust him fully.
“You’ve gotta be starving.” He laughed, setting the bags down on the dresser close by. He handed you one of the plastic grocery bags, his fingers brushing against yours. “Sorry, I got a few options, I don't know what you like.”
He’d brought you warm soup and sandwiches from a nearby corner store deli, he informed you. It was all heavenly and made you feel so toasty and warm. He made it a bit awkward, just watching you eat, but you were too hungry to mind much. He showed you some of his other purchases as you ate, calling them “supplies”.
A few essentials, products for he bathroom you needed. Some snacks he put away in the mini fridge beside the bed. A pair of plush house slippers, he smiled, joking about how the bathroom floor was like ice in the morning. A plush, thick blanket. One much nicer than the motel linens. And a set of warm pajamas for the chilly nights. Better than the sweater and jeans you'd slept in that night.
It was nice of him, really. But something about it was just a little…
In a motel/hotel-type setting, it might just seem like little things to make your stay more comfortable, but for this…
Did he hope you’d be staying… for a while? Not just a second night? Or was he just being nice?
You pushed it out of your head. You could cross that bridge when you came to it. If that bridge had even been built at all.
“I got your clothes from your bag and did a load here before I left.” He admitted after a moment, seeming worried. “I’m sorry for going through your stuff, I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to do something nice.”
It felt oddly intimate, somehow more so than sleeping next to him. But laundry was an expense you couldn’t afford, and you had so few pieces of clothing to your name anymore. Not much more than what you had on at the moment.
You told him it was okay, and again, he just smiled. That smile of his was too much.
It’d been so long since you’d gotten such a seemingly genuine bit of kindness, ever since you found yourself more or less homeless. It was almost too much, like you didn’t know what to do with it.
It’d been a long time since he’d felt so… here, this present for this long.
The days and nights used to bleed together, one long suffocating bit of nothing, broken up by sudden fits and bursts of unspeakable violence. And again, on things went, as they always did. But here he was, with you, and he was feeling… okay. It’d been so long since he felt even close to okay.
The voices were still there, buzzing at the back of his brain. But they were calmer, almost… sated. The same way they were after he killed. When it wore him out enough to finally sleep.
Back when things made sense, back when he was still a person. With every part of him still there. It started with nights, one after the other where sleep just wouldn’t come. Or maybe it had been the voices that came to him first. He couldn’t remember anymore.
Most days, he made money under the table at a seedy bar across town, cleaning up after the day drunks and ignoring the shady deals that went down in the back alley.
He worked evenings at the front desk of the motel, sometimes he cleaned up too when the usual cleaner was off. He wasn’t supposed to stay all night, but sometimes when he was days away from another kill, he just stayed behind the counter and no one cared. The owner was a creep, who kept spotty records at best of who stayed so that he could look the other way when questionable folks stayed, jacking up the nightly rates.
Wanted men, hired guns, predators and perverts alike. Anyone who didn’t want police looking for them and would pay extra for the owner’s silence. And for his own silence, Colin got a hefty cut. It came with a free room, even if he didn’t sleep. Not paying rent left him with plenty of money for the people he needed.
And there had been a few times, it was hard to remember how many exactly, where he’d caught one of the guests doing something they really shouldn’t’ve been doing and taken them out instead of finding another victim. If he made a little extra by going through their things afterwards and maybe selling some of it to a silent connection or two, then that was his business.
Not to mention living in the motel made doing what he did a bit easier, doing it on his “home turf”. He knew all the nooks and crannies, all the blind spots and which rooms were occupied. It was isolated and under the radar, which was exactly what he needed.
He lived his life like he didn’t exist. No one knew him, and no one remembered him. He could move through the city without anyone caring he was there. He needed it that way, if he wanted to keep killing.
And he did. He needed to.
That’s the way it had to be, he used to tell himself.
Until you answered his ad.
Every moment he spent with you made him so grateful that you’d found him.
You settled into bed with him for the second night, wondering how long he would keep you around for.
But the night turned into day again, and again, you were still sleeping next to him. You were still here with him.
He left during the day for hours, though he seemed a bit reluctant about it, he needed to go to work. You didn’t know what he did, but he reassured you that staying another night and sticking around during the day was no problem for him. And each morning, you woke up to the same payment under your pillow.
Did he have a good, steady job? Was he secretly loaded? Did money just not mean much to him? Or was this whole setup just that important to him that money was the last thing on his mind?
You tried not to think about if you were, in a weird way, taking advantage of the situation. Taking advantage of him. You pushed it all down, trying not to think about what would come later, just trying to fall asleep as he snored lightly in your arms.
It still felt just a bit odd and awkward, but… kind of nice.
The way he looked at you, with that warm, almost intense stare that felt like it practically surrounded you when you caught him staring. And when he saw that you saw him, shied away, cheeks on fire. But after a while, he didn’t look away. Only smiled that warm smile, looking almost smitten.
When you’d first met him, he’d had such a hard time looking you in the eye. He’d been so awkward and anxious. And he still was, no question. But now it felt like his eyes never left you. And…
It wasn’t the worst thing… It felt like too much to admit out loud, but still.
Colin had been kind to you, in this odd way of his. Maybe if you had somewhere or someone to call home, you’d find all this too weird and too intimate. You probably would’ve never even met. But here, now, he was slowly becoming everything. Your conversation partner, the person you shared your meals with, where you laid your head at night…
Having someone who saw you, really saw you, after knowing what it felt like to be invisible? It was… comforting, to say the very least. Warm and inviting and...here. It pulled you out of a very dark place when that was all you knew.
And when his hands found you in his sleep, tucking his head to your chest, it was hard not to think of him as… yours.
You held back, because outside of the closeness you’d found at night in this cheap but oh-so warm motel bedding, you didn’t know how he saw you. If he didn’t want you… in that way, and he pushed you away? You’d be left with nothing again. And not even the money you’d earned so far would be worth going back to that feeling.
It wasn’t just the warm bed and the food, the shower, the money or the sense of safety you felt with him that you’d regret losing.
It was him.
You tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss sleeping next to someone, but deep down, you knew that was a lie. Especially now when you’d had to isolate yourself so much. He was really the first person you’d been able to really talk to for a long while.
He stopped by for meals together during the day, and when eleven p.m. hit, he was in for the night. When you were alone, resting and alone with your thoughts, you would be tempted to leave, even if it was to go out for a bit to pick up something you needed. But when you touched the door handle to the room, you were hit with a wave of all that too familiar anxiety and helplessness.
No one knew you were here, except Colin. You were hidden here, safe. If you left, there was a chance they would find you.
So you stayed. Just waiting for Colin to come back. Seeing him was quickly becoming the best part of your day, as embarrassing as that was sometimes. He was starting to become… more. To you.
You seemed to have these walls around you, he thought.
You weren’t… afraid, not entirely. It was more like…
Like someone had hurt you. Like you were too hurt to let him in, beyond holding him at night.
You had been with him for almost a week by then, and everything had been calm.
Somehow… he trusted-... yeah... Trusted whatever this was. He wanted you to stay, and every time he came back to the motel, you were still there. Waiting for him with a smile that said you were warming up to him. Trusting him just a little bit more.
In the quieter moments, before he fell asleep with you, sometimes he would hear them again. He almost felt like something was clutching at the back of his neck, stuck in that moment as the paranoid, conflicting thoughts played in a nauseating loop.
That no one could really help him.
That you were his salvation.
That the safety he felt was a fluke and whatever this was couldn’t actually last.
That you knew he’d brought you here to kill you.
That the only thing that’d saved you was something he’d never expected to feel, and it could stop at any time.
That you would hurt him.
That he would hurt you.
That you should run.
That he should do whatever he could to keep you close.
Endlessly, all of it hammered away at his reasoning, pushing on the back of his eyes.
But as he held you, the tension left his muscles. His thoughts quieted and he just focused on your sleeping face. Whatever had a hold on him felt so weak with you near. You were his. And nothing would take you away from him.
He was getting ready to leave one morning when you asked him something he somehow hadn’t prepared for.
Why were you here?
You were sitting on the edge of the bed, barely meeting his eyes.
“Why, uh…” He stumbled over his words. “Is something wrong?”
You were upsettingly quick to tell him that you were grateful that he’d let you stay here. For the food, for the money, and for not asking questions. It made his heart hurt how guarded you still seemed, but he let you go on. You said you just felt like you needed to understand, even just a little.
You wondered out loud if you were just here to literally warm the bed, that maybe that was all you were good for anyway. Not like you had anything else to offer anyone.
He was frozen. He’d never had to comfort and reassure anyone before, at least not that he could remember. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he made it worse?
You held yourself, like his silence confirmed your fears. Like you were so wary of everything. How long had it been since you could trust someone?
He felt himself stop breathing when you laughed at your own worry, smiling up at him with tears in your eyes. You apologized, telling him never mind, that you were just being stupid.
He sat next to you, despite wanting to just hold you. He could see you were hurting, and he just wanted to make you... better.
“It’s okay, I just…” He wasn’t… this wasn’t him. But he needed to try. You needed this. “I can’t sleep. And…”
He hesitated, not knowing if it was right to say.
“It’s… it’s a long story, but… I used to do… something else. To get to sleep. And if I didn’t…”
He remembered every kill. When he couldn’t sleep, they were fuzzy on the edge of his thoughts. But now they were so clear. He remembered their faces. How they struggled. The burn in his muscles from the kill. How he felt the relief of exhaustion wash over him like nothing else could bring him.
“If I didn’t do it, I wouldn’t get to sleep for days. Things got... bad. But then I found you! O-or, I guess you found me, ya know?”
Carefully, slowly, he took your hand in his, gauging if you were okay with it. You didn’t pull away, and he knew he must look so weak to you. So pathetic. But it was hard to let go.
“I really do need you, ya know?” His thumb grazing the back of your hand, laying his head on your shoulder. He closed his eyes, trusting you beyond everything that told him he shouldn’t. “With you, everything is gonna be okay.”
He had a faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering something unpleasant. You wondered if it was drugs or something else he might be scared or embarrassed to admit.
He was being so vulnerable with you. And it should’ve made you feel so uncomfortable, like it was too much to put on you for someone you barely knew. But it didn’t.
It didn’t bother you at that moment. It was an odd reason, if a real “reason” at all.
When he finally left, all you could do was sit on the bed, your chin resting on your knees as you held your legs up against you, the position making you feel more alert, safer. You stared at the door, fearing every sound, every shadow that passed by the door as other guests walked to their rooms.
You were hidden away here, you told yourself. No one knew you were here. Except Colin. He’d be back for lunch soon and you could relax for a bit before he had to leave again.
He needed you. You weren’t a burden to him. It was weird, but it was enough to be useful to him, even if it was just for a bit.
Wasn’t it?
It weighed on you as you tried to get to sleep that night was a bunch of questions you’d pushed out of your head until then.
How long were you going to be allowed to stay here?
How was everything going to be fine now when it wasn’t going to last?
He needed you? Who said that to someone they barely knew?
If he needed you to be able to sleep…
Would he find someone else once you were gone?
He was asleep in your arms as you layed there, wide awake with this anxious, enveloping worry. It kind of hit you then, that as comfortable as you were here, with him… as safe as you felt…
If he knew about you, what you’d been through… would he still want you around?
None of this could last forever. It had only worked out that way so far because you had nowhere else to go.
What did you expect? You scolded yourself. It’s not like it was anything real. You weren’t dating, or lovers. You weren’t even friends, not really.
You didn’t really know anything about him… It all started eating away at you.
Him, depending so much on you.
You, just as dependent on him.
And you… making more out of this situation with him than it was.
Even then, with all those thoughts swarming in your head, you still felt his body heat on you. You still held him close and fell into the rhythm of his breathing. You still craved that closeness, that certainty that when you woke up in the morning, he would still be there.
Deep down, you wanted so badly to stay. But you couldn’t open up to him like that…
You couldn’t get hurt again.
If you stayed too long…
It would be better for both of you if you just left.
. . .
“I have to go out again.” He sighed, grabbing his shoes and sitting on the edge of the bed to get them on. “It’s my day off tomorrow, so we can spend the whole day together.”
You felt guilty for what you were about to do, but you didn’t know if you could do it if he was around. Either he’d want you to stay and make it harder to leave or he’d smile and wish you well.
You weren’t sure which one would hurt more.
He left with that sweet, warm smile, and just for a moment… You wished he would kiss you goodbye.
That was as much as you were willing to let yourself feel.
His hands shook, the note tearing suddenly under his panicked, unsteady grip.
“No…” He was hit by a wave of revoltion and panic, tossing it away like it’d burned him. “No… no, fuck fuck fuck FUCK-!!”
He held himself, trying to steady the lurching unease hitting him deep. His shirt rode up as he curled forward into the old, shaggy carpet, the pain let him focus as his nails dug into his skin just above his hips.
“It’s okay. You’re okay…” he tried to soothe himself, but it was already hitting him.
You were gone. And he had no clue where to find you. If you never came back…
. . .
“If I knew where they went, I would be with them!!” he shouted back, hating how clear the voices were already. He needed to calm down. “I have to… have to…”
His legs felt weak. You couldn’t be gone… He still needed you. If you were gone… it wouldn’t be long before everything fell apart again. Not long until the voices would be all he could hear, tormenting him until he could finally find sleep again.
Killing again was one thing, it didn’t matter how many people he needed.
He needed you more.
Desperately clawing at the blanket you’d left behind, like it would keep him from losing himself entirely. Pulling it close, it still smelled like you. He knew it was in his head, but he could swear it was still warm, like you’d only just left.
There was a deafening pounding on the motel room door.
“Ryan! You piece of shit!!” A loud voice from the door called to him. “You were supposed to be at the front desk a half hour ago!! I’m gettin’ money somewhere else! If you’re spacin’ out again, I’m gonna wring your fuckin’ neck!!”
Ryan… That was the name the manager knew him by. It sounded like he’d been drinking, he’d probably come straight from the bar when he got a call that no one was at the desk to check them in.
He stood up, moving wordlessly over to the door, opening it to his furious boss.
“I knew you were here!!” he shouted in “Ryan’s” face, his breath reeked of cheap whisky. “You been cryin’ or somethin’?? Fuckin’ answer me!!”
He stuck his head out, looking around outside the door. One way. Then the other.
No one was around.
“What?! Got nothin’ to say to me you little-”
He grabbed the man’s shoulders, driving his knee under the bottom of his ribs with all his strength. The drunk doubled over, gasping and wheezing, dropping to his knees.
He was suddenly dragged by his shirt collar to the bathroom, and before he could rasp out in confusion or anger or fear, He felt the dull ache of being grabbed by his hair. But it was quickly replaced by the pain of his face being repeatedly bashed into the granite bathroom countertop. He quickly went limp.
When Colin finally stopped, it was only because his hands were too slick to hold on any longer.
“Gone…” He panted. “You’re gone. Where… where are you…”
He had to find you.
When he did…
It wasn’t how he wanted to get closer to you. He wanted you to open up to him, to tear down those walls you had built to keep him out. He wanted to make you think of him as yours, as someone you could hold on to. Someone you needed, like he needed you.
You always seemed so... on edge.
If you needed to feel safe, then…
Colin would make sure he was the only safe place for you to go.
hello everybody! would ya believe i rewrote this like four times?? but i'm really glad i did, as this is the best version so far.
hope it lives up to part 1, and that you all like it c:
once again, if you know and hate/are repulsed by a Colin in your life, i'm so sorry
can't have a romance without stupid, avoidable misunderstandings, ya know? but in this case it just seems smart on the reader's end. don't answer sketchy internet ads, kids
originally, this had just as many words but nothing really happened. it was more of a chapter where we learned all the same information, but he emotions explored felt, idk flatter? like it was saying all the same stuff but it was just not quite right.
Colin started off being very vague about his killing, but it didn't really fit his character. as much as he'd rather not kill, he doesn't feel guilty about it. to him, it's just something he does. like an annoying chore. but he's present enough to know you'd get scared off if you knew.
so as a result, there are some cw tags on this post
don't know how specific i should be about the reader's past, if getting too specific would make their side of it take the reader out of it.
just know they're basically in hiding, and they don't just leave town for a reason, i promise
haven't thought of what little yandere pet name he'd use for the reader yet, but it's in the works
i had some backstory stuff for Colin too, but it just felt out of place, so if you wanna know some stuff, send an ask ✌️
part three is where he really gets to be an all-out yandere, so here's hoping y'all come back for that (eventually lol) this part was originally going to be the last (or at least where everything happened) but then it just turned into more and more until i was like screw it, part 3
i'm sure i'll spot some typos or unfinished sentences in here somewhere when i re-read this later so bear with me please
i got laundry to do, peace out y'all
eta: i forgot to make them kiss!! def in part 3, it didn't quite fit here.
i can't remember if anyone asked me to tag them for part 2 and i can't find any mentions, but something tells me i was supposed to and i dropped the ball...
im not entirely happy with the header, but it was last minute and ive been rewriting this all day and just wanted to move on with my day lol might replace it? but im lazy so probably not *shrug*
