SUMMARY: AFTER BEING FRIENDS WITH BEAR FOR A LONG TIME AND BEING IN A COMPLICATED RELATIONSHIP YOU STOPPED, YOU LEARN THAT HE IS DATING NIKKI. HOWEVER, THINGS DIDN'T GO AS PLANNED.
WORDS: 2702
RATING: 18+
CONTENT: AU - NIKKI DIES AND BEAR LIVES, EXES TO LOVERS, BEAR IS A LOVE WEATHER VANE, LIKE MAKE UP YOU MIND WHO DO YOU LIKE?, ORAL (M RECEIVING), P IN V, CREAMPIE, SWALLOWING
WARNINGS: MENTIONED VOMITING A FEW TIMES
This wasn't something your small group of friends really appreciated: at work and during outings, they felt it was empty when you were absent. But still, it was something they should accept. You had to be away for a few weeks for family reasons.
But among your friends, it was with Bear that you had talked the most before you left. You had met in a cafe, drinking and snacking together until it was time for you to leave.
âHow long are you going to be gone for, anyway?â he asked.
âThree weeks. Itâs going to be a long time, isnât it?â
Bear nodded vaguely, his eyes falling on the piece of apple pie on his plate. It was you who had encouraged him to order one, insisting on how delicious it was, one of the best apple pies you had ever tasted in your life.
âDonât look so gloomy, Iâll come back and⊠I can send you messages,â you say, leaning slightly forward so that your eyes meet.
Bear then raised his head, allowing you to straight up. You gave him a smile, your fork thoughtfully spearing your own piece of pie.
âDuring these three weeks⊠a lot of things will happen, youâll have plenty to tell me,â you continued. âMaybe when I come back, youâll be Nikkiâs boyfriend.â
Bear remained silent as he looked at you, before shaking his head slightly. He took a large piece of his pie, his eyes never leaving you. After a moment of silence, during which you did nothing but eat, Bear decided to speak:
âYou know you donât need to make jokes about that, right?â
âWhat? Why not? I find it amusing!â
Bear shook his head again, his expression almost disapproving. He knew you cared for him, even after your strange relationship had ended. Whether they were a couple or friends with benefits, nothing was really certain. But in any case, the relationship had ended one day.
âYou know as well as I do that it's not trueâŠâ
âBut it is,â you insisted. âAnyway, itâs not that important.â
Bear scoffed and nodded, although he didn't really agree with you. Well, he still hadn't confessed anything to Nikki, so was he really in a position to judge how you dealt with your own feelings? It was wiser for him not to elaborate on the matter. You would have let him know that such a comment would be the pot calling the kettle black.
After you each paid your share, you left the cafe. You hugged Bear, who hugged you back awkwardly. As you stepped back, your hands remained on his back a little longer than necessary, just as his hands remained on the small of your back.
âI promise to write to you every dayâŠâ
âIâll answer,â Bear assured her.
âYou better, especially since I plan to stop by your place on my way back.â
âIâll be there,â he said, nodding.
And so you parted ways, he to return home and you to leave to rejoin your family.
Things were going pretty well for you. As you said, you regularly sent messages to Bear to tell him what you were doing, but especially to find out what was happening in his little life during your absence. Although at first he always replied quickly, the replies eventually became a little more occasional. Since Bear hadn't given you any explanations, you went fishing for information. According to Sarah and Ian, it's because he started dating Nikki.
Something about knowing this made you anxious. You didn't know if it was because of jealousy or if it hurt you that he was ignoring you. Being in a relationship did not mean ignoring your friends, much less those of long standing. You were starting to think that, since he now had Nikki, he no longer had any reason to keep you close. Perhaps he was just waiting for this opportunity, to subtly get rid of you.
This had been bothering you until it was time for you to go home. On the way back, while you were stopped at a red light, you took out your phone. You hesitated for a moment before finally sending a message to all your friends to let them know you were arriving. However, Bear was the only one who didn't reply.
You were getting closer and closer, but still no response from Bear. When you were not far from his house, you pulled over to the side of the road. You contacted your other friends, asking them if they knew whether he was available or not, but it went unanswered, not even left on read. That was enough! Bear couldn't be so caught up in his relationship with Nikki! If that was the case, it was time for him to change!
> I'll be there in five minutes
>> No! Not now!
> I promised
You then restarted the car, driving quickly towards Bear's house. What could possibly prevent him from seeing you? Admittedly, it was late, but that had never been a problem before.
It didn't take long for you to arrive at Bear's house. Without even asking permission, you opened the door and entered.
âDonât come in!â
And just as Bear told you not to, the door was open. Your throat tightened as you watched the scene unfold before you. First, Ian, on the ground, with a bullet hole in his forehead, then further on the body of who you assumed to be Sarah because of the tattoos, and finally Nikki on the sofa who, like Ian, had a bullet in her forehead and a huge wound around her eye. Your head began to spin, your breathing quickening until it became ragged. You felt nauseous, and when your gaze fell again on Sarah's seated body on a chair, her face now resembling tomato pulp, you leaned forward and started to vomit.
Bear stood up, dropping a gun from his hands, before cautiously walking towards you, avoiding the vomit that covered the floor.
âBear?â you moaned, seeing him covered in blood.
âI told you not to come, why didnât you listen?â he scolded you.
âBecause I was worried!â
The smell of blood hit you, making you immediately leave the living room and head towards the bathroom. You were about to vomit again before you saw the light vomit filled with medication already present in the bathtub.
âHoly shit,â you grumbled before vomiting a second time, this time in the sink.
Bear joined you in the bathroom, a hesitant look on his bloodied face. He looked like a child who knew he was about to get in trouble.
âWhat happened?â you exclaimed in panic.
âYouâre going to have to believe me⊠because I told Ian and he didnât believe me and⊠this is what happened to himâŠâ
âHe had a bullet in his head, you had the gun in your hand. Was it you?â you asked, your voice trembling.
âNo, no! Let me tell you what happened!â
You sighed as you sat down on the floor, relieved by the cold bathroom floor. He left the room quickly before returning with some kind of stick in his hands. Then, once he had it, he sat down opposite you.
âThis. This is the reason for everything that happened. The One Wish Willow.â
âA fucking piece of wood. Are you kidding me?â you started getting angry at him. âHave you gone mad, Bear?â
âWait for the rest!â he replied, shaking his head vigorously. âWith this, you can make any wish you want and it will come true.â
He immediately noticed your uncertain look. It was clear you didn't really believe him.
âYou must believe me, I swear Iâm telling you the truth,â he insisted, his voice more pathetic than youâd ever heard from him before. âI beg you.â
You almost had to pinch yourself to make sure it was real. Seeing him begging you and almost on the verge of tears was unusual, though not unpleasant.
âI wished that⊠Nikki loved me more than anyone else in the world and⊠she was literally obsessed with me,â he explained. âSheâs the one who⊠turned Sarah into mush, and sheâs the one who shot Ian. I⊠put an end to that⊠to her suffering by shooting her.â
You were speechless, still unsure of the truth of his words. After all, how could you be sure that this piece of wood would actually do what you wanted? Bear seemed to understand, since he handed it to you.
âYou can only make one wish. Think carefully. Say it out loud, then break the stick in two.â
âWell⊠I wouldnât say no to a new car,â you say thoughtfully.
âWait⊠word your wish correctly. Ian wished for 1 billion dollars and they appeared from the sky. The car could do the same.â
You think for a moment about the wording to avoid ambiguity, before finally finding the right solution.
âI wish I had a new car parked in front of Bearâs house with the keys,â you said before breaking the stick in half.
You looked at each other for a moment without saying anything, before a loud noise was heard outside. You got up and went to see what was happening. As Bear knew, a brand new car was parked properly. Your eyes widened in shock before you walked hurriedly towards the car. You glanced inside the car, seeing the keys in the ignition. You tried to open the door, but it was locked.
âWhat?!â
âTricky, isnât it?â he said, his voice weary.
âYeah, well, this genie underestimates me.â
You walked to your old car and rummaged through your bag which was in the trunk. Eventually, you took out a hairpin. You then went back to the new car and, crouching down, took the time to pick the lock.
âWhere did you learn that?â he asked you when he heard the door lock open.
âBy watching a video online, I thought it might be useful someday.â
âOf course, you did thatâŠâ
It was a few seconds of silence that made you realize the actual situation. Bear was right, he had basically wished that Nikki would love him madly and that's what had happened. And then, he was done for if the police happened to stumble upon the crime scene caused by Nikki. It's not like he could prove that it was the wish's fault, which made Nikki to do all that!
âWe have to leave,â you announced. âCome on!â you said, taking him by the hand to pull him inside his house.
Inside, Bear changed his clothes and cleaned his face to remove the blood, while you filled a bag with important things. Your heart was pounding again, as you narrowly avoided vomiting once more at the sight of the horrific scene.
âWe can go,â he said once you were both ready.
Your bag and his in the trunk of your new car, you drive out of town, going as far away as possible so the police can't find you. It was long and silent, just a few reassuring words spoken by you to relax him, or at least try to relax him.
You end up stopping at a motel, where you both give each them false names as a precaution. You shared a room with only one bed. It was simpler and, in any case, it wouldn't be the first time you shared a bed.
Yet, the atmosphere was strange when you lay side by side. You always had to realize that all your friends were dead, and that it was just the two of you now.
âAre you⊠going to be okay?â you asked, seeking reassurance.
âYesâŠâ
Barely illuminated by the moonlight, you observed him. You could see how terribly tense he was.
âI know a method to help you relax, but I donât think this is the time,â you said, trying to use humor.
However, at your suggestion, Bear's expression became extremely serious. You then understood that he was indeed ready for the special method.
âI was just kidding, you know?â
âNot meâŠâ he replied, shifting into a better position. âMaybe... I needed all of this to realize that you were the one for me,â he continued, one hand subtly beginning to pull down his pants.
âA bit of an extreme way to become aware of your feelingsâŠâ
But that's fine with me, you thought, not daring to say it out loud.
You climbed on top of him, your lips meeting immediately. Bear had one hand on the back of your neck and the other undoing his pants. The kiss wasn't just a simple erotic exchange; you were devouring each other.
When you felt him lower his pants, you ended the kiss. You then slowly lowered yourself until your face reached his cock. When your lips enveloped his member, it was the same sensation as recalling a childhood memory. It had been so long since you last slept together, you were happy to suck him off.
He sighed as his hands ran through your hair, his way of encouraging you not to stop. Your eyes focused on him, your hands gently caressing the inside of his thighs, close to his cock.
His hips began to move to push his length further down your throat, his sighs quickly turning into moans. He had almost forgotten how much of a real pleasure it was to be sucked off by you.
Soon, he took hold of your hair firmly to be the one who took charge. It only took a few more movements for him to reach orgasm, his sperm spurting into your throat. Without hesitation, you swallowed it all. You then pushed his hand away so you could move your head back and thus take his cock out of your mouth.
âThatâs a good start, I already feel a bit better,â he said.
You smiled slightly before moving your face up to his. While kissing, you undress each other, with occasional kisses on the neck. Your hands were very wandering, never stopping you from groping each other, whether it was your add, thighs, or in your case, your breasts.
You gasped before snickering when Bear suddenly switched your positions. He settled himself between your legs, his face in the hollow of your neck, his lips pressed against it. And without further ado, he pushed his cock into your pussy. You moaned, your hands gripping his hair with desire.
You didn't speak during that time; the only sounds were your breathing and moans. You didn't really need to talk; things happened naturally, as if you did this regularly. Well, that was the case not so long ago.
Soon, Bear's teeth began nibbling at the skin of your neck, as if he were marking his territory. You obviously didn't stop him, appreciating the jealousy he had actually possessed all this time.
Little by little, Bear forgot the miserable and catastrophic situation he was in. All that mattered were the succulent back-and-forth movements he was giving you.
When you were both nearing the end, Bear holding your thighs firmly and you holding his neck, the movements accelerated and became more violent. It was with despair and even distress that Bear tried to reach his orgasm.
And finally, you reached orgasm together, Bear not holding back from emptying himself inside you without the danger of the situation even crossing his mind. Being runaways and potentially getting you pregnant? Who cares! It felt so good fucking you like he did.
You remained in the same position for a while, enjoying each other's warmth, before he decided to withdraw. So, you immediately snuggle up to him, your eyes already closed with fatigue.
âWeâll have to go somewhere else tomorrowâŠâ you murmured, to which Bear responded with a nod. âI love you more than anything in the worldâŠâ
Bear tensed for a moment at your words, before sighing and shaking his head, keeping you close. It was surely an accident; you didn't want to connect it to what had happened with Nikki.
âI like this life on the run,â he murmured.
It was arm in arm, forgetting the death of your friends since you were better off sleeping and cuddling together.
Summary: For three years Bear loved you in silence from the corner of the music store. Then he found a willow that could make you love him back â and he never planned to let the spell break.
Warnings: Magical coercion/non-consensual mind and emotion alteration, Obsessive/possessive behavior, Yandere! Bear
The rain had been falling for three days straight, turning the city into a watercolor smear of gray and neon. Inside the little music store on 12th, the air smelled of old vinyl, warm dust, and the vanilla candle Sarah always lit when the weather turned mean. The âClosedâ sign was crooked in the window, but none of you had left yet.
Ian was sprawled on the battered couch with an acoustic guitar across his lap, but he wasnât really playing it. He kept strumming random, half-hearted chords while he talked shit with Sarah about a difficult customer from earlier, occasionally laughing at his own jokes. Sarah sat tucked against his side, phone in one hand, but she wasnât fully checked out. She kept glancing over at you with that gentle, watchful expression she always got when she thought you were being too quiet. Sheâd already pressed a warm mug of tea into your hands earlier and kept sneaking looks to make sure you were actually drinking it.
Bear sat on the floor near the record player, back against the wall, long legs stretched out in front of him. He wasnât playing anything. He was watching you.
He had been watching you for three years.
You had started as the new part-timer, shy and sweet, the one everyone automatically protected. Ian called you âkidâ and ruffled your hair. Sarah called you âsunshineâ and made sure you ate lunch. Bear never gave you a nickname. He just⊠was there. Quiet. Steady. The one who walked you to your car when it was dark. The one who fixed the wobbly shelf without being asked. The one who remembered you liked your coffee with oat milk and an extra shot even though youâd only mentioned it once.
He had loved you almost from the first week.
It wasnât loud. It was the quiet, aching kindâthe kind that settled in his chest and never left. He loved the way your voice went soft when you talked about simple things. He loved how you still got excited over finding a rare pressing in the dollar bin. He loved that you were sheltered in a way the rest of them werenât anymore; you still believed people were mostly good, still hugged like you meant it, still looked at the world with wide, trusting eyes. You were the innocent heart of the group. And Bear, awkward and insecure and too tall for most rooms, had fallen so hard he sometimes forgot how to breathe around you.
He had loved you for so long that the wanting had stopped feeling like a choice. It lived in the way he memorized the sound of your footsteps on the old floorboards, the exact shade your eyes turned when you were tired, and the quiet, shameful way he sometimes let himself imagine what it would feel like if you ever looked at him the way he looked at you.
He never told you. How could he? You saw him as safe. Reliable. Big brother Bear.
You trusted too easily. You saw the good in people who didnât deserve it. You looked at him like he was safe.
He wanted to be safe for you. He also wanted to be the only thing you needed.
Sometimes he caught himself counting how many times you smiled at him in a single shift. Sometimes he stayed behind after everyone else left just to stand in the spot where you had been standing, like the air might still hold something of you. He never let himself think too hard about why.
Tonight, after Ian and Sarah finally called it and left with hugs and shouted goodbyes, you lingered. You gathered your bag slowly, then turned to him with that gentle smile.
âThanks for locking up. And for⊠everything, really.â You stepped closer and hugged him, brief and warm, your head fitting just under his chin for a second. Your sweater was soft against his chest. You smelled like rain and something floral. âYou guys are my safe place. Especially you. I donât know what Iâd do without my big brother Bear.â
The words landed like they always didâkind, grateful, and devastating.
Bear managed a rough chuckle. âAnytime.â
You left. He stood in the dark store for a long time after, neon light painting his face in shifting colors. Then he drove to the little crystal shop two blocks over.
He told himself he was going for the tigerâs eye pendant. Youâd lost yours last monthâthe one you wore every dayâand heâd been meaning to replace it. Something small. Something that said I see you without saying anything at all.
The shop smelled of patchouli and old paper. Crystals glittered under glass. Near the counter was a cheap cardboard display: small wooden boxes printed with cheerful red letters.
ONE WISH WILLOW Crack open! Make your wish come true! (One wish only â choose wisely!)
Bear picked one up. Inside was a small, pale piece of wood, gnarled and smooth in places, faintly greenish. It felt heavier than it looked.
The tired woman behind the counter glanced at it. âNovelty item. Some old willow story. People buy âem for parties. Most wish for money or a date or whatever.â
Bear bought it. And the pendant.
Back in his apartmentâthe small, quiet space filled with records and a guitar he rarely touchedâhe sat on the edge of his bed. The broken streetlight outside flickered through the blinds. He turned the willow piece over in his hands.
He should throw it away. It was stupid.
But the ache in his chest was real. The years of wanting were real. The way you had called him big brother tonight was real.
He closed his eyes. Saw your soft smile. The way your eyes lit up when he brought you coffee. The way you trusted him completely.
âI wish,â he whispered, voice cracking, âthat you would love me more than anyone else in the world.â
He snapped the wood.
The crack was sharp and final, louder than it had any right to be. A cold breeze stirred the still air, carrying the green scent of crushed leaves and rain. The lights flickered once. Then nothing.
Bear sat there, heart hammering, feeling like an idiot. He put the broken pieces in the drawer with the other small things heâd kept of yoursâa hair tie, a receipt with your neat handwriting, a polaroid from a group trip where you stood close enough that your shoulder brushed his.
He went to bed.
The days after blurred into one long, rain-softened haze. Bear told himself he was imagining it at first. But the next afternoon you walked into the store carrying two coffees and handed him one without being askedâoat milk, extra shot, exactly right. Your fingers brushed his and stayed there a second longer than necessary. When Ian teased him for being quiet, you had laughed and said, âHe talks to me. He just doesnât need to say everything out loud.â Something in Bearâs chest had cracked open and stayed open.
By the end of that first week the changes were impossible to ignore. You started closing with him even when it wasnât your shift. You texted him at nightâsmall things, soft things. Rainâs loud tonight. Canât sleep. He would stare at the screen until the words blurred, then type back something careful and steady. One evening you had leaned against his side while he alphabetized a new box of records, your head resting on his arm like it had always belonged there. âThis feels right,â youâd murmured, almost to yourself. He hadnât trusted his voice enough to answer.
He gave you the tigerâs eye pendant on a slow Tuesday. You were in the back room sorting returns when he pulled the small box from his jacket. âFound it,â he said, voice rough. âFigured you should have something to replace the one you lost.â Your eyes had gone wide and glassy. You let him fasten it around your neck, skin warm beneath his clumsy fingers. After that you touched the stone constantly, and every time your hand rose to it you seemed to drift closer to him. âIt makes me feel safe,â you told him once, quiet. âOr maybe thatâs just you.â
The first time it started to slip was almost two weeks later. You were humming while you wiped down the counter when your phone lit up. Ian. Something about dinner after close. You smiled at the screen in a way that made Bearâs stomach turn over. âHe found a new Thai place,â you said, almost apologetic. âVegan options and everything. You want to come?â Bear had shrugged, tried to sound easy. âGo. Have fun.â But when you left that night the hug you gave him was friendly againâgrateful, warm, distant. Big brother Bear. Your eyes were clear. The ache in his ribs returned so sharp he drove straight to the crystal shop without thinking.
That night he reread the box.
Bearâs hands trembled as he turned the box over beneath the flickering streetlight bleeding through his blinds. He had bought four of them now and had never looked past the cheerful front. This time he read the small, cramped text on the back all the way through.
The granted wish will hold until it reaches its natural peak or until the death of the wisher. Renewal not recommended.
The words blurred for a second. Until his death. His stomach dropped so hard he felt sick. If something happened to him â anything â you would wake up. You would remember every soft smile you had given him, every time you had reached for him like he was the only thing keeping you steady, and you would know what he had done. His breath came too fast. He dropped the box onto the bed like it had burned him and pressed both hands over his mouth, trying to stay quiet even though there was no one else in the apartment. He couldnât die. He couldnât let the wish reach whatever peak it was building toward. He had to keep buying them. He had to keep you exactly like this â soft, trusting, his â for as long as he could. Because the second the magic slipped for good, he would lose you forever.
The second willow cracked between his fingers in the dark of his apartment. The cold green wind came again. The next morning you arrived early, wrapped both arms around his waist the second you saw him, and pressed your face into his chest like you were trying to disappear there. âI kept thinking about you last night,â you whispered. âIt felt wrong not having you close.â Bear closed his eyes and let himself believe it for a little while.
The third time the wish thinned, it happened faster. You grew restless. You wiped the same section of counter twice. Your humming kept breaking off. Twice you glanced toward the door like you were waiting for someone who hadnât arrived yet. Ian had texted about bringing pizza for the late-night hang the group sometimes did after closing. Bear watched the way your shoulders stayed tight even when you smiled at him. The brightness in your eyes flickered like a bulb about to go out.
He bought the fourth willow that same evening.
The One Wish Willow sat in the glovebox of his car like a secret he kept feeding. He had used three already. Each time the effect began to thinâyour smiles a little less automatic, your eyes clearing for a few hours like you were waking from a long dreamâhe bought another from the crystal shop that never seemed to close. He told himself it was mercy. You were happier this way. Softer. Completely his in the way he had always craved but never dared ask for.
Tonight the current wish was slipping.
You were humming under your breath while you wiped the counter, but the tune kept faltering. Twice you glanced toward the door like you were expecting someone else. When Bear stepped out, you smiled at himâwarm, genuineâbut it didnât quite reach your eyes the way it used to before the first willow.
âHey,â you said, voice gentle. âYou okay? Youâve been quiet even for you.â
He shrugged, the movement small. âJust tired.â
You nodded, accepting it the way you accepted everything. âIantexted. Heâs bringing pizza. You staying?â
Bearâs chest tightened. The old you would have asked because you wanted him there. The version the willow had made wanted him there because the thought of him leaving made something inside you itch.
âIâll stay,â he said.
You brightened, but the brightness had an edge now. âGood. I⊠I donât really want to be here without you anyway.â
The words landed like a stone in still water. Bear felt the ripple in his blood.
Later, after Ian left and Sarah had gone home, you helped him lock up. The street outside was empty, the only sound the distant rush of the highway and the soft scuff of your shoes on the pavement. You walked close enough that your sleeve brushed his. When a car backfired two blocks away you flinched and your hand found his forearm, fingers curling tight.
âSorry,â you whispered. âEverything feels loud tonight.â
Bear stopped under the flickering streetlight. Your face was half in shadow, eyes wide and trusting even as the willowâs hold loosened around the edges. He could see the real you surfacingâthe girl who had once told him she was scared of disappointing people, who still called her mom every Sunday, who baked when she was anxious. She was fighting her way back.
He couldnât let her win.
âIâll drive you home,â he said.
You shook your head too quickly. âCan I⊠can I come to your place instead? Just for a little while. I donât know why but the idea of my apartment feels wrong right now. Empty.â
Bearâs pulse thudded in his throat. He nodded.
Your hand stayed on his arm all the way to the car.
His apartment was small, the kind of place that smelled like coffee and the cedar blocks he kept in the closet. One lamp glowed in the corner, throwing long shadows across the floor. You kicked off your shoes by the door the way you always did nowâwithout askingâand padded straight to the couch like it was yours. Bear watched the way your shoulders relaxed the second you were inside his space.
He made tea because you liked it. Chamomile, two sugars. When he handed you the mug your fingers brushed his and lingered.
âThank you,â you said softly. Then, quieter: âBear⊠do you ever feel like somethingâs changing and you canât stop it?â
He sat beside you, close but not touching. âWhat do you mean?â
You stared into the tea like it might answer. âI used to love being alone. Now when Iâm by myself I get this⊠tightness in my chest. Like Iâm forgetting how to be a person unless someoneâs looking at me. Unless youâre looking at me.â Your laugh was small and shaky. âThatâs weird, right? I sound crazy.â
Bearâs hand moved before he could stop it. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, the same gesture you always did yourself. Your eyes fluttered closed at the touch like it was the only thing keeping you steady.
âYouâre not crazy,â he said. His voice came out rough. âYouâre just⊠figuring things out.â
You opened your eyes. For a second the old you was thereâclear, a little scared, wanting reassurance. Then the willowâs current surged again, or maybe it was the last dregs of the previous wish fighting to hold on. Your gaze went soft and glassy at the edges.
âI donât want to figure it out without you,â you whispered.
Bearâs heart cracked and mended in the same breath.
He waited until you fell asleep on his couch, curled under the blanket he kept for you. Your breathing was deep and even, one hand still clutching the edge of the fabric like you were afraid it would disappear. He watched the rise and fall of your chest, the way your lips parted slightly, the faint crease between your brows that only appeared when the wish was thinning.
Then he stood, grabbed his keys, and drove.
The park on the edge of town was closed after dusk, but the chain across the entrance had been cut months ago and never replaced. Bear parked in the shadow of the trees and walked the overgrown path barefoot, shoes in one hand, the new One Wish Willow in the other. He had bought it that afternoon from the crystal shop. The woman behind the counter had smiled like she knew exactly what he was doing and didnât care.
The willow trees here were realâancient, their branches hanging like green curtains over the black water of the retention pond. Mist curled low across the surface. The air smelled of wet earth and decaying leaves and something faintly sweet, like overripe fruit. Crickets screamed. Somewhere far off a train moaned.
Bear pushed through the hanging branches of the largest tree until he stood in a natural cathedral of leaves. The moonlight filtered through in pale stripes. He sat on the damp ground, the toy balanced on his knees. It looked ordinaryâa twisted length of pale wood with a cheap paper labelâbut it felt warm, almost alive, against his skin.
He closed his eyes.
âI wish,â he said, voice low so the night wouldnât carry it, âthat she stays with me. That she needs me the way I need her. That her world narrows until Iâm the only steady thing in it. I wish she loves meâreally loves meâeven if itâs because I made it happen. I wish she doesnât slip away again. I wish the real parts of her that fight this⊠I wish they stay quiet. Just let her be mine. Please.â
The last word cracked.
He snapped the willow in half.
The sound was louder than it should have been, like bone breaking underwater. A cold rush swept through the little grove. The leaves above rustled though there was no wind. One long branch brushed the back of his neck like fingers. For a heartbeat the surface of the pond rippled outward in perfect circles even though nothing had touched it. Bearâs breath fogged in front of him even though the night was warm.
He stayed there until his legs went numb, until the cold in his chest settled into something like peace. Then he walked back to the car with the broken pieces in his pocket.
You were still asleep when he slipped inside at nearly four in the morning. He showered the scent of pond water and guilt off his skin, changed into soft sweats, and sat on the edge of the couch. Your hand found his wrist in sleep, fingers curling around the bone like a lifeline.
When you woke it was slow. Your eyes opened, found him immediately, and filled with something warm and desperate and new.
âBear,â you breathed. You sat up too fast, the blanket pooling at your waist. âYou left.â
âJust for a little while.â
You reached for him. Both hands this time, framing his face like you were afraid he was smoke. Your thumbs stroked his cheekbones. The touch was gentle but the grip was not.
âI woke up and you werenât here and I thoughtââ Your voice broke. âI thought maybe Iâd made it all up. That you were never real. That I was back in my apartment alone and none of this had happened.â Tears gathered but didnât fall. âDonât do that again. Please. I canât⊠I canât do the empty without you anymore.â
Bearâs hands covered yours. He turned his face and kissed your palm, slow and deliberate. You made a small sound, almost a whimper, and leaned in until your forehead rested against his.
The kiss that followed was yours first.
Soft at firstâtesting, almost shy, the way the old you would have kissed if you had ever been brave enough. Then the willow took the wheel. Your mouth opened under his with a hunger that didnât match the sweetness of your face. Your fingers slid into his hair and tightened. You climbed into his lap without breaking the kiss, knees bracketing his hips, the heat of you sinking through the thin layers of fabric between you.
Bear groaned into your mouth. His hands found your waist, then your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left. You tasted like the chamomile tea and something darker, something that hadnât been there before the willowsâsomething that tasted like surrender and need and the kind of love that devoured.
When you pulled back for air your eyes were glassy again, pupils blown wide in the low light. Your lips were swollen. A faint tremor ran through your whole body.
âI love you,â you said, and the words were too steady, too certain for how new they should have felt. âI think Iâve always loved you. It just took me a long time to see it. Or maybe⊠maybe something helped me see it.â You laughed, small and wondering. âDoes that make sense?â
Bearâs thumb traced your lower lip. He could still feel the ghost of your kiss. âIt makes sense to me.â
You smiledâthe full, radiant smile that had always undone himâand tucked your face into the curve of his neck. Your breath was warm against his skin. One hand stayed fisted in his shirt like you were afraid the world might try to take him.
Outside, the first gray light of dawn crept across the windows. Inside, the shadows in the corners of the room seemed deeper than they should have been. Bear held you while you drifted again, your body heavy and trusting against his chest. He could feel your heartbeat against his ribsâfast, then slowing, then steady in a rhythm that matched his own.
He liked how the wish made you reach for him without thinking. How you lingered after your shifts ended, how your texts came faster when he was quiet for too long, how you seemed to relax only when he was in the room. The old you had friends and plans and a life that didnât revolve around him. This version â the one the willow had given him â turned toward him like a plant toward light. He told himself it was better this way. You were safer when you didnât look anywhere else. You were happier when he was the only one you needed. And if the spell ever started to thin again, he would drive straight back to the crystal shop and buy another willow before he let you remember how to stand on your own.
He thought about the broken pieces of willow still in his jacket pocket. He thought about the next time the effect would begin to thin, the way your eyes would clear and the old you would surface, confused and frightened and still so sweet it hurt. He thought about driving back to that pond under the hanging branches, whispering the same words into the dark, snapping another twig while the water watched.
He would do it again. And again. As many times as it took.
Because thisâyou, soft and warm and completely reliant in his arms, whispering âI love youâ like it was the only truth left in the worldâwas the only thing he had ever really wanted. The only thing the shy, obsessed part of him had ever allowed himself to imagine.
And the willow, whatever lived inside it, had given it to him.
Bear closed his eyes and let the rhythm of your breathing pull him under. Outside, the wind moved through the trees beyond his window, and for a moment it sounded almost like the rustle of long green branches over dark water.
He would keep you.
He would keep wishing.
And you would keep loving himâmore than anyone, more than anythingâuntil the day he stopped breathing and the last willow finally expired with him.
For now, in the quiet gray morning, with your fingers still curled in his shirt and your breath warm against his throat, that was enough.
A/N: wowowow this is my first post on this account. is it bad that itâs literally abt the worst character in obsession? heâs so hot im sorry </3
Warnings: SMUT, duh, selfish Bear
Being in a relationship felt..so foreign to Bear. He rarely had luck with girls..take Nikki for example? He had gathered up the courage to tell her how he felt after Trivia and she had smiled sadly at himâtelling Bear âyouâre like a little brother to meâ.
And then, he met you. You were so sweet, so kind..you didnât seem to mind his awkwardness or the tics he had that usually made people think âman, what a loserâ.
You were perfect, Bear was obsessed.
As if you couldnât get anymore perfect..you had asked Bear if he wanted to have a sleepover full of junk food and trash TV. The perfect night for him, much better than going to some dingy loud bar like usual.
Bear was sitting on the couch, lazily flipping through channels as he waited for you to come back from showering. When you had stepped out, you were wearing one of his oversized shirts that practically swallowed you whole. When Bearâs eyes fell on your form, he tried to ignore the raging surge of possession that came over him.
It wasnât long before you were bent over the couch beneath him, soft whimpers leaving Bearâs lips as he rutted into you.
âF-Fuck..youâre so fucking perfect..â Bear moaned, his cock sloppily thrusting in and out of your pussy. His fingers grasped at your hips, pulling you back onto him over and over again. The feeling of your tight walls gripping him had him cumming embarrassingly fast.
Bear tried to resist and he began to mutter panicked apologies as his speed turned frantic. It felt too fucking good to slow down, he was selfish, chasing his own pleasure.
âShit! Oh myâi-iâm sorry, oh fuck..!â Bear shuddered, his hips slamming forward as he forced his cock in as deep as he could go. His cum spurted out, a look of pure bliss on Bearâs face as he emptied himself inside of you.
He slumped forward, panting against your shoulder..
Bear was never going to let you go, whether you liked it or not.
The threesome smut you were talking about during the Polites x reader smut
Can you pls do the threesome fic with a soft dom Polites and Odysseus with sub reader vibes?
Thx you!!! đđ
Yes absolutely! That is so what I wanted
Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REWRITE MY WORKS! REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.
Specifically, I used @duvetbox for Odysseus in this
Those Pesky Urges
Y/n pov
It was hard being the only female on Odysseus' ship, for many reasons. Underestimated, constantly having other shipmates take over the simplest tasks if they thought I was incapable. But the worst, the absolute worst, was those urges... the thrumming between my thighs, the heat that wracked my body at the most inconvenient times. It wasn't even the fact that I had these urges it was the difficulty of finding a spare moment and some privacy to deal with them.
Which is how I found myself hidden in the cargo hold with my fingers buried deep inside my puffy, needy pussy.
"I think I saw her go in here..."
Shit... Polites... I couldn't let him see me like this...
"I hope she's ok, she ran off pretty quick."
SHIT! It was bad enough that Polites was here, but the captain too?
"Y/n? Are you ok?" Polites asked.
"Y-yeah..." I choked out, my voice shaky and high. I tensed as their footfalls came closer and started to pull my fingers from my slick heat.
"You don't sound ok, are you... Holy Gods!" Polites yelped as he came in sight of me, a blush painting his cheeks.
"So this is what you sneak off to do... dirty little creature." Odysseus smirked, also coming into view. I flushed, embarrassed... ashamed. Odysseus clicked his tongue and Polites looked down with sympathy.
"Poor thing, it must be so hard for you..." He cooed, stepping closer and kneeling beside me. He gently rubbed my arms in a reassuring manner. "We can help, you don't have to do this alone." One of his hands wandered down to my stomach where he started to stroke soothing circles on my skin. Odysseus knelt down between my legs and gripped my thighs. he wrenched them apart and threw them over his shoulders. I gasped and tried to wiggle away.
"Hey! Stay still!" The captain snapped, his large hand smacking the soft part of my thigh. I yelped and Poli gently shushed me.
"It's ok y/n..."
"You're too soft on her... she's been bad, sneaking away to play with herself when she's needed on deck." Odysseus grunted, hauling me up as he started nipping at my inner thighs. I whimpered, clawing at the wooden floor under me. Polites sighed softly and snuck his hand lower, his rough padded fingers slipping down to my core, his thumb circling my clit. Sweet relief flooded my body and my whimpers turned to soft moans. "Ask permission." The sharp order brought me to attention.
"W-what?" I stuttered.
"Ask permission to cum you brat, since you didn't ask before." Odysseus looked up from between my legs, a warning look in his eye.
"Do as Ody says, lovely." Polites hummed, his fingers speeding up. I felt the knot in my stomach tightening to an almost painful degree.
"C-can I... can I... fuck, please." I panted desperately.
"Yes, sweetheart."
"No, brat." Odysseus barked.
"Odysseus..." Polites warned.
"Ask properly. Ask nicely. No profanity."
"Please, C-Captain, may I c-cum..." I stumbled over the words. Odysseus clicked his tongue skeptically.
"Fine brat, cum."
I went rigid in Polites' arms, mewling and moaning wantonly as a wave of ecstasy washed over me.
"Good girl, good girl." Polites purred as I went limp against his chest.
"Th-thank you..." I whimpered softly.
"Don't thank us yet, brat, you've been so greedy lately, I think it's time you get what you deserve." Odysseus practically growled, diving between my legs, licking and sucking at my cunt. I whined, too sensitive for this.
"Hey, hey, it's ok, you can take it." Polites assured me sweetly.
"She will take it." Odysseus mumbled, his voice sending vibrations through me. I let out a moan, tears pricking my eyes. This was gonna be a long day...
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