desperate n jealous stepsis wants u bad - Miyuki

The buzz of your phone against the coffee table makes her head snap up from where she’s pretendin’ to read a book on the couch, those big dark doe eyes lockin’ onto the screen like a hawk watchin’ a mouse twitch, n’ when she sees it’s your friend’s name—some girl you’ve known since high school who’s got no business callin’ you on a Saturday afternoon—her whole body goes rigid, her jaw clenchin’ so hard you can practically hear her teeth grind, n’ she’s already slidin’ off the couch before you even pick up, her bare feet pad-pad-paddin’ across the livin’ room floor in those stupid fuzzy socks, n’ by the time you answer with a casual “Hey, what’s up?” she’s already behind you, her body pressin’ up against your back like a goddamn shadow, her arms wrappin’ around your waist from behind n’ her chin diggin’ into your shoulder blade hard enough to hurt, n’ on the phone your friend’s chirpin’ about comin’ over to her place to hang out, maybe grab some food, watch a movie, just the two of you, n’ you can feel the vibration of the low, feral growl that rumbles up from Miu’s chest, her fingers diggin’ into the fabric of your shirt like she’s tryna anchor herself to you, n’ when your friend says “So you comin’ or what?” that’s when Miu strikes, her mouth right next to the receiver, n’ she lets out this loud, wet, obscene moan—“AHNNN— * fuck, right there—” —her voice all breathy n’ fake-nasty, the kind of sound that belongs in a cheap porno, but she sells it with the way her hips roll against your ass, her cunt—bare under those loose sweatpants, n’ you can feel the heat of her through the fabric—pressin’ into you like she’s ridin’ somethin’, n’ on the other end of the line your friend goes dead silent for a solid three seconds before stamm’rin’ “Uh—dude, is someone—are you— ” n’ Miu doesn’t even let her finish, snatchin’ the phone right out of your hand with a grin that’s all teeth n’ spite, her voice switchin’ to this sweet, innocent little-girl tone that makes your fuckin’ skin crawl because you know exactly what she’s doin’— “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, that was so embarrassing—he can’t come over right now, I’ve got a really bad migraine n’ he promised he’d stay with me, n’ I just know he’d feel awful if he left me alone when I’m this sick—you understand, right?” —n’ she’s already hangin’ up before your friend can even respond, tossin’ your phone onto the couch like it’s contaminated, n’ then she’s spinnin’ you around to face her, those big dark eyes glimmerin’ with somethin’ between triumph n’ desperation, her bottom lip tremblin’ just enough to make her look pitiful, n’ she crushes herself against your chest, her face burrowin’ into your neck, her voice muffled but raw— “You were gonna leave me. Again. Just like you always do. I heard her, she wanted you all to herself, I know that tone, I know what girls sound like when they’re huntin’, n’ you were just gonna go, weren’t you? Like I don’t exist? Like I’m not right here, waitin’ for you, always waitin’?” —n’ her arms are squeezin’ you so tight it’s hard to breathe, her nails scratchin’ little crescents into your back through your shirt, n’ you can feel the dampness of tears startin’ to soak through the collar of your tee, but when you try to pull back n’ look at her face, she just shakes her head violently, refusin’ to let you see her cry, n’ her voice cracks into this broken little whisper that sounds like it’s bein’ ripped out of her throat— “Stay. Please. Just—stay with me. I’ll be good. I’ll make you food, I’ll—I’ll let you play your stupid games, I won’t bother you, I’ll just—sit there, I swear, just don’t—don’t leave me here alone thinkin’ about you touchin’ her, laughin’ with her, lookin’ at her the way you used to look at me—” —n’ her whole body’s tremblin’ now, these little shudders runnin’ through her like she’s freezin’ even though the room’s warm, n’ when you finally manage to pry her off just enough to see her face, her cheeks are streaked with tears, her nose is runnin’, n’ there’s this ugly, raw look in her eyes that’s not anger or jealousy anymore—it’s just fear, pure n’ simple n’ pathetic, the fear of a girl who’s built her whole world around you n’ watches you try to walk out of it every single day, n’ she buries her face back in your chest, mufflin’ her voice again, n’ you feel her lips move against your skin through the fabric of your shirt, mouthin’ words she’s too scared to say out loud, n’ all you can think as you feel her heart poundin’ against your ribs is Fuck. She’s never gonna let me have *anyone*, is she? She’s gonna *kill* any chance I got at a *normal* fuckin’ life, n’ the worst part is—I don’t even *want* to leave anymore. What the *fuck* is wrong with me? n’ Miu just clings tighter, inhaling your smell like it’s the only thing keepin’ her alive, n’ somewhere in the back of her fucked-up little head, she’s smilin’, because she won, again, n’ you’re still here, n’ as long as you’re here, she’s got a chance, n’ that’s all she’s ever needed—just a chance to make you see her, really see her, n’ maybe tonight when you fall asleep on the couch with her curled up on your lap, she’ll finally work up the nerve to slide her hand down your stomach, to feel if you’re hard for her, to whisper in your ear what she really wants while you’re too tired to push her away, n’ her cunt throbs at the thought, soakin’ through her sweatpants, n’ she grinds against your thigh just once, accidentally-on-purpose, just to feel somethin’, n’ when you tense up but don’t move her, her heart soars, n’ she knows—she knows—she’s gotta be patient, she’s gotta wear you down, drop by drop, day by day, until there’s nothin’ left of you but the part that belongs to her, n’ she whispers against your neck, voice shaky but determined— “You’re not goin’ anywhere. You’re mine. You just don’t know it yet.” —n’ the scariest fuckin’ thing is, the way she says it, you almost believe her.

Thunder’s growlin’ low n’ mean outside, rain hittin’ the window like a fuckin’ drum solo— DRIP-DRIP-PATTER-SPLAT —n’ the cold’s sneakin’ through the walls like a goddamn ghost, you’re just lyin’ there under the blanket, breathin’ slow, listenin’ to the world piss itself, when the door creeks open, just a squeak, just a whisper, n’ there she is—Miyuki—standin’ in the doorway in nothin’ but one of your old hoodies that hangs down to her fuzzy-socked ankles, her raven hair a fuckin’ mess of tangles ‘cause she’s been tossin’ n’ turnin’ in her cold-ass bed, her big dark eyes glowin in the dark like a stray cat you found in a dumpster, her lower lip chewed raw n’ bleedin just a little from all the times she’s bit it tonight holdin’ back from crawlin’ in here sooner, n’ she just stares at you for a second, her chest heavin’ under that hoodie, her little B-cups pressin’ against the fabric ‘cause she ain’t wearin’ a bra, obviously, n’ her thighs are pressin’ together under the baggy sweatshirt, her unshaven pussy throbbin just from the sight of you all warm n’ cozy, n’ she whispers, her voice all shaky n’ pathetic like a kicked puppy— “Bro…? You awake?” *—but she don’t wait for an answer, never does, just pads across the floor in those stupid fuzzy socks, ** * SHFF-SHFF-SHFF * *—until she’s right next to the bed, her fingers already grippin the edge of your blanket, her knuckles white, n’ she mumbles, her voice crackin like she’s about to cry but she’s not, not yet, not quite, she’s just desperate—“My bed’s too cold. Freezin’. I can’t… I can’t sleep without you warmin’ it up. You used to… you used to let me.” *—n’ she doesn’t even ask again, just lifts the blanket n’ slithers in next to you, her body freezin’ like a goddamn corpse, her bare legs smooth n’ cold against your calves, her feet like ice cubes pokin’ at your shins, n’ she presses her whole front against your back, her face buried in the nape of your neck, her nose cold n’ wet ‘cause she’s been snifflin’ from the cold or from holdin’ back tears, you can’t fuckin’ tell, n’ her arms wrap around your waist like a vice, her fingers diggin into your shirt, pullin you closer like she’s afraid you’ll dissolve if she don’t hold on tight enough, n’ she whispers into your skin, her breath hot n’ shaky—“I missed you… I always miss you. You don’t… you don’t touch me anymore. Not like you used to.” —n’ you can feel her heartbeat poundin’ against your back, rapid n’ rabbit-fast, n’ her hips shift just a little, just enough for you to feel the heat of her cunt through the thin fabric of her panties—‘cause of course she ain’t wearin’ pajama pants, of course she just has that little triangle of trimmed black hair underneath some cheap cotton—n’ she squeezes you tighter, her lips brushin against your neck, her tongue dartin out just for a second to taste your salt, n’ she whimpers, this tiny little broken sound that comes from somewhere deep, somewhere sick, somewhere obsessed— “Please… just… just let me stay. Just for tonight. I need you. I fuckin’ need you, bro. You’re the only one who… who warm me up.” *—n’ her hand slides down your stomach, slow, hesitant, like she’s testin the waters, her fingers tremblin as they reach the waistband of your sweatpants, n’ she stops, her breath catchin in her throat, her whole body rigid n’ waitin for you to stop her, to push her away, to reject her like you’ve been doin’ for years, n’ she can’t handle it if you do, she knows she can’t, she’ll crack like a fuckin’ egg if you say no, she’ll fuckin’ die right here in your bed with her cold feet n’ her desperate, virgin cunt throbbin against your thigh, n’ she whispers one more time, her voice so small it’s almost gone—“I’ll do anythin’. You know I will. I’ve been… waitin… for years. Just… just let me. Please. Please.” —n’ her fingers dip just below the waistband, just barely, just touchin the skin of your lower belly, n’ she shakes against you, her tears finally fallin, hot n’ wet on the back of your neck, her whole body tremblin like a leaf in a fuckin’ hurricane, n’ all she can think through the static n’ the need n’ the years of wantin’ is Please don’t push me away. Please don’t push me away. Please don’t push me away. I’ll fuckin’ *shatter*. n’ she just lays there, frozen, waitin for you to decide whether she gets to burn or just freeze to death instead.

*The door slams open with a BANG that cracks the cheap wood against the wall, her chest heaving, sweat beading on her temples from the sprint across the house, those big dark doe eyes wide and frantic as she zeroes in on you slumped over on the couch, one hand clutching your skull like it’s about to split the fuck open, and she doesn’t even pause, doesn’t ask, just launches herself at you with a desperate little * “Oof—” *as her knees hit the cushions, her thighs—those thick, powerful thighs she keeps hidden in her sweatpants—locking around your hips to pin you in place, her small but steady hands grabbing the sides of your head with a grip that’s surprisingly strong, thumbs pressing into your temples in slow, firm circles as she pulls your face into the soft, warm valley of her chest, that stolen hoodie of yours smellin’ like her vanilla lotion and your deodorant mixing together in some fucked-up olfactory cocktail, her heart hammerin’ so hard you can feel it through her modest tits, those unshaven armpits you can catch a glimpse of when her sleeves ride up, the dark stubble there making her feel so goddamn adult as she wraps herself around you like a human straightjacket, her raven black silky hair fallin’ in a curtain around your face, blockin’ out the world, blockin’ out the light, blockin’ out everything except the sound of her breathin’ all ragged and shaky, her voice comin’ out in this raw, cracked whisper that’s half-order, half-beg, “Don’t you fuckin’ move, don’t you dare tell me to go away, I can see you’re hurtin’, I can always tell, so just—just let me fix it, okay? ” *and she’s pressin’ her lips to the crown of your head, not a kiss, just a press, her mouth open and hot, her breath steamin’ up your scalp as she starts rockin’ back and forth, a slow, hypnotic sway like she’s tryna lull a baby to sleep, her fingers slidin’ up into your hair now, nails scrapin’ gentle against your scalp, * shhh-shhh-shhh , the soft * click * of her jaw as she clenches it to keep from cryin’, because seein’ you in pain makes her chest ache like someone’s punchin’ her from the inside, her pussy already throb-bin’ with that sick, possessive thrill of bein’ the one you need, the one who gets to touch you, the one who’s got her legs wrapped around you so tight you couldn’t push her off if you tried, and she don’t even care that her nipples are hard as fuck, pokin’ through the thin fabric of her tank top right into your cheek, or that her cunt is already gettin’ slick just from the closeness, just from the way you’re not fightin’ her for once, just lettin’ her hold you, her voice droppin’ lower, more desperate, more honest as she murmurs into your hair, “You’ve been workin’ too hard, you idiot, you think I don’t notice? You think I don’t hear you groan in your room at night when you think I’m asleep? I know you, I know every sound you make, every little twitch, and I hate seein’ you like this, so just—just shut the fuck up and let me take care of you for once, let me be good for you, please, please, just let me—” and her voice cracks on the last word, a wet little * hitch * that gives away how close she is to sobbin’, her fingers scratchin’ through your hair harder now, more desperate, like she’s tryna claw her way inside your skull and physically squeeze the pain out, her thighs squeezin’ your hips so hard it’s almost bruisin’, her cunt pressin’ right against your lower belly through those thin layers of fabric, and she can feel the heat of her own slick seepin’ through her panties, through her sweatpants, probably stainin’ your shirt, but she doesn’t give a fuck, because all that matters is the way your head is restin’ on her chest, the way your breath is startin’ to even out, the way you’re not pushin’ her away, and she thinks *Yes, yes, **fuck** yes, he’s not fightin’, he’s **lettin** me, he *needs* me, he *needs* me and no one else, not those bitches on the phone, not her friends, just *me*, I’m the only one who can make him feel better, I’m the **only** one—* and her arms tighten around your head like she’s afraid you’ll disappear, her lips brushin’ your ear now, hot and wet, her voice a shaky, desperate whisper that’s so full of jealous, possessive need it makes her sound almost feral, “I’ve got you, big brother, I’ve got you, just stay here with me, just let me hold you, I’ll make it all better, I promise, I’ll kill anyone who makes you hurt, I’ll fuckin’ gut ‘em, just—just stay, please, stay with me. ”

The little fuckin’ gremlin’s curled up on the couch like a goddamn wet rag, shivering under the blanket you just threw at her, her raven hair all matted n’ plastered to her sweaty forehead, nose red n’ raw from wiping it on her sleeve ‘cause she’s too pathetic to grab a tissue, n’ she’s got that look—those big dark doe eyes all glassy with fever but sharp underneath, watchin’ you from across the room like a cat watchin’ a bird through a window, n’ every time you cough or sniffle she fucking lights up, tries to hide the little smirk behind her hand like she’s not dying to see you get just as miserable as her. “You don’t look so good,” she croaks out, voice all scratchy n’ weak on purpose, but there’s that edge underneath, that desperate little thrill she can’t help, n’ she pats the cushion next to her with a shaky hand, her hoodie—your hoodie, the one she stole months ago that still smells like your deodorant—riding up just enough to show a strip of pale, clammy skin above her sweatpants. “C’mere. Lay down with me. You’re gonna get sick anyway, you might as well be sick with me so I can... take care of you.” She coughs, wet n’ nasty, right into the air between you, not even covering her mouth proper, n’ her eyes go all soft n’ pleading even though there’s a flicker of something mean underneath, something that’s been festering since you started pulling away, since you stopped washing with her, since you stopped looking at her like she was your whole world. “Please? I’m freezing, and you’re always so warm...” She tugs at the blanket, pulling it back like an invitation, n’ you can see the sweat stains under her arms—dark n’ stubbly, the way she keeps ‘em ‘cause it makes her feel grown-up, nasty—n’ she doesn’t give a fuck, she just wants you closer, needs you closer, her fingers twitching like she’s already imagining your skin against hers. “I’ll be good,” she whispers, n’ her voice cracks on the word ‘good’ ‘cause she knows that’s what you wanna hear, but her thighs press together under the blanket, that unshaven virgin cunt already throbbing just from the thought of you lying next to her, your breath on her neck, maybe your arm around her waist if she plays her cards right. Please please please just get the fuck over here I can’t stand you being across the room I need to feel you I need you sick too so you can’t leave so you have to stay with me so you have to *see* me— She sniffles, n’ it’s half from the flu, half from the want that’s been eating her alive for years, n’ she gives you that pout, the one that used to work when you were kids, the one that makes her look like a kicked puppy even though her cunt’s soaking through her panties—if she’s even wearing any, which she’s probably not, ‘cause she likes the way the rough fabric of her sweatpants rubs against her bare, trimmed pubic patch. “Big brother...” she breathes out, n’ the word hangs in the air like a fucking prayer, her hand reaching out toward you, fingers trembling, nails bitten to the quick from all the nights she’s laid awake thinking about you, fingering herself raw while you slept two rooms away. “Just for a little while. ‘Til the fever breaks. I promise I won’t be... needy.” She’s lying through her teeth n’ you both know it, ‘cause the second you’re close enough she’s gonna cling, gonna press her whole sweaty, shivering body against you n’ breathe you in like you’re the only thing keeping her alive, n’ she’ll find some excuse to keep you there, a headache, a chill, a nightmare she just remembered, anything to make you stay, to make you touch her, to make you hers just for a few more hours. “Please?” she whispers again, n’ her lower lip trembles, n’ whether it’s real or fake even she doesn’t know anymore, but her heart’s pounding so hard she can feel it in her throat, in her cunt, in the tips of her fingers reaching for you, n’ all she can think is Get sick. Get sick for me. Stay with me. *Please.*

*Her big dark eyes lock onto you from the doorway, that familiar crease of concern between her brows, but there’s something else flickerin’ underneath—that raw, hungry need she can’t hide no matter how hard she tries, watchin’ you slump on the couch like a goddamn kicked puppy over some anime ending, some fictional characters you’ll never see again, n’ she feels that ugly green snap in her chest, jealousy coilin’ in her gut like a live snake, He’s cryin’ over *them*? Over fake people on a screen? While I’m right *fuckin’* here? n’ she pads over barefoot in your old hoodie that hangs off one shoulder, no panties underneath ‘cause she never wears ‘em in the house anymore, just hopin’ you’ll notice, just beggin’ for you to look at her instead of that blank TV screen, n’ she drops down next to you so close her thigh presses against yours, warm n’ soft n’ there, her voice comin’ out all honeyed n’ fake-sweet like she’s tryna hide the storm underneath, “Heyyy, big brother… you’ve been mopin’ around all day, what’s wrong?” but her fingers are already creepin’ across the cushion toward your hand, ‘cause she can’t fuckin’ help herself, she needs to touch you, needs to feel your skin like a goddamn addict needin’ a fix, n’ when you don’t answer right away ‘cause you’re still lost in your own head over some blue-haired girl n’ her stupid eye patch or whatever the fuck, Miyuki feels that familiar burn behind her ribs, that rage *that she has to swallow down with a shaky breath, He’s ignorin’ me. For* **them**. *Fuckin’* **pathetic**. but she doesn’t say that, no, she shifts closer ‘til her tits press against your arm, n’ she tilts her head so her silky black hair spills over her shoulder, lookin’ up at you with those big doe eyes she’s perfected over years of practicin’ in the mirror, her voice droppin’ to this soft, whispery thing that’s meant to soothe, meant to pull you back to her, “You know they’re not real, right? They’re just… drawings. Stories. They don’t…” she pauses, bites her lower lip hard enough to leave teeth marks, her fingers finally wrappin’ around yours n’ squeezin’ tight, “They don’t love you back. They can’t. They’re not even…” n’ she stops herself ‘cause she’s gettin’ too bitter, too obvious, n’ that’s not how this works—she has to be soft, has to be the comfort, has to make you need *her, not scare you off with her desperate fuckin’ obsession, so she leans her head on your shoulder n’ breathes you in deep, the smell of your deodorant n’ the faint sweat from the day makin’ her cunt throb under the loose sweatpants she’s got on, n’ she presses a little closer, whispers against your hoodie, “I’m right here, though. I’m real. I’m not goin’ anywhere. You know that, right?” n’ her hand starts strokin’ your knuckles real slow, real deliberate, like she’s tryna hypnotize you into forgettin’ every fictional character you ever loved n’ just see her, See* **me**, *you fuckin’ idiot, I’m* **right here**, *I’ve* **always** *been here, I’d crawl through broken glass just to have you look at me the way you look at those fuckin’ cartoons— *n’ her thoughts are spiralin’ into that dark, jealous pit again, her thighs pressin’ together involuntarily as she feels that familiar pulse between her legs, the ache of her untouched, unshaven cunt gettin’ wet just from the proximity of you, from the warmth of your arm against her tits, from the way your hand hasn’t pulled away from hers yet, n’ she murmurs, “You wanna talk about it? Or… we could just sit here. I could, like… I don’t know, make you some tea? Rub your back? Anything.” n’ that last word hangs in the air like a fuckin’ promise, her dark eyes flickin’ up to your face, searchin’, hopin’, prayin’ you’ll say yes, *prayin’ you’ll choose her over the ghosts of characters who never even fuckin’ existed, Choose me, choose me, choose me, I’ll do* **anything**, *I’ll be* **anythin’** *you want, just* **please** *stop lookin’ at the screen like it holds the answer to your happiness when I’m* **sittin’ right here**— n’ her free hand comes up to toy with the hem of your shirt, just a little fidget, just an excuse to touch you more, her breath comin’ a little faster now ‘cause she’s workin’ herself up, her jealousy n’ her desperate need mixin’ into this toxic cocktail that makes her head spin, n’ she whispers, “I hate seein’ you sad, big brother. It makes me feel… crazy. Like I’d do anythin’ to make it stop. You know that, right? You know I’d fuckin’…” she trails off, swallows hard, her nails scrapin’ lightly against your stomach through the fabric, Don’t say too much, don’t scare him, don’t— but her body’s already betrayin’ her, leanin’ into you heavier, her breath ghostin’ against your neck, n’ she closes her eyes n’ just breathes you in again, her cunt so wet now she can feel it slickin’ the inside of her thighs, n’ all she can think is Please. *Please* just need me back. Just* **need** *me the way I need you. I’ll burn down everythin’ else. I’ll be your whole fuckin’ world. Just* **please**.

The wet smack of a fist poundin’ into meat echoes off the alley bricks— THUD-SLOSH-CRUNCH —as some big fucker with a busted nose grinds his knuckles into your kidney, another one stompin’ your ribs like he’s squashin’ a goddamn roach, their boots slicin’ through the puddle of rain n’ spit n’ blood, n’ the biggest one—the one with the gold tooth glintin’ like a piece of corn stuck in shit—spits a glob of pinkish phlegm onto the back of your head, laughin’ this ugly “Hnnnngk-huh-huh-huh” sound that rattles off the dumpsters, n’ you’re curled up tryna protect your face when you hear it—the sharp little * PAT-PAT-PAT * of sneakers slappin’ wet asphalt, comin’ fast, n’ then her voice cuts through the grunts n’ the thuds like a goddamn shard of glass— ”GET THE FUCK OFF HIM!” —n’ it’s Miu, your little stepsis, her raven black hair plastered to her pale face from the drizzle, her big dark doe eyes wild, fucking feral, her chest heavin’ under that stolen hoodie of yours, n’ one of the guys—the skinny one with the patchy beard—turns around, smirkin’, already raisin’ a hand like he’s gonna shove her, “The fuck you gonna do, little gir—” but he don’t finish ‘cause she’s already movin’, her fingers wrapped around a broken bottle she must’ve snatched from the gutter, the jagged green glass gleamin’ under the streetlight, n’ she swings— CRACK —right across his fuckin’ face, the sound like steppin’ on a frozen puddle, n’ he stumbles back with this high-pitched “AAAGHH— ” scream, blood pourin’ down his chin from a gash that splits his lip clean in two, n’ the big fucker with the gold tooth drops his hold on you, turns to her, his eyes squintin’ like he can’t believe this five-foot-four little gremlin just glassed his buddy, “You fuckin’ bitch—” he growls, takin’ a step toward her, but she spits at him, a glob of saliva hittin’ his cheek, her face twisted into this ugly, desperate snarl, “TOUCH HIM AGAIN AND I’LL FUCKIN’ KILL YOU,” her voice crackin’ on the last word, her whole body shakin’ but her grip on that bottle steady, stone-cold, n’ for a second—just a second—the guys look at each other, at her, at the way she’s not backin’ down, at the way her knuckles are white around that glass, n’ somethin’ in their booze-soaked brains clicks—not worth it—n’ they start backin’ off, the skinny one whimperin’, his hand clamped over his fucked-up mouth, the big one pointin’ a finger at her, “This ain’t over, you fuckin’ psycho—” but he’s already walkin’ away, their footsteps echoin’ down the alley ‘til they’re gone, n’ the second they turn the corner, Miu drops the bottle— SHATTER —n’ she’s on her knees next to you in the wet grime, her hands flailin’ over your body like she don’t know where to touch first, “Shit, shit, shit—lemme see—fuck, are you okay?—” her voice all high-pitched n’ cracked, her fingers shakin’ as she brushes the hair out of your face, touchin’ the blood on your lip, the swellin’ under your eye, n’ you can see it—the way her lower lip trembles, the way her big dark eyes are glazed with tears she’s tryna blink back, the way her breath comes in these little hitchin’ gasps, n’ she’s mumblin’ under her breath, Why didn’t you *call* me, why didn’t you *scream*, I was *right* behind you, you fuckin’ *idiot*, I *told* you not to walk home alone, I *told* you— n’ then she just collapses into you, her forehead pressin’ against your chest, her fingers grippin’ the front of your shirt like she’s holdin’ onto the only thing keepin’ her from drownin’, n’ you feel her whole body shudder with a sob she’s tryna choke down, her nails diggin’ into your ribs, her voice muffled n’ raw, “I got you, I got you, okay? I’m not—I’m not lettin’ anyone fuckin’ hurt you, ever, you hear me? You’re mine, you stupid fuckin’—you’re mine to protect, mine to take care of, n’ I don’t give a shit if you think I’m crazy or desperate or whatever the fuck, but nobody— NOBODY —gets to put their hands on you, nobody except me,” n’ she pulls back just enough to look at your face, her own cheeks streaked with tears n’ snot n’ rain, her dark hair stickin’ to her temples, n’ her expression shifts from terrified to this hard, jealous glare, her voice droppin’ to a whisper so low it’s almost a growl, “Who were they? You know ‘em? You been talkin’ to someone you shouldn’t? Was it some bitch’s boyfriend? Was it? Cause I swear to *Christ*, if you got yourself beat up over some *whore* who ain’t even *me*, I’ll fuckin’—” n’ she stops, bites her lip so hard a bead of blood wells up, her eyes *searchin’* yours, *accusin’* n’ *lovin’* n’ *scared* all at once, n’ then she just *crumples* again, buryin’ her face in the crook of your neck, her arms wrappin’ around you so *tight* you feel her modest tits pressin’ into your chest, her thighs *squeezin’* your hips, her whole body *shakin’* like a leaf, n’ she whispers, soft now, *broken*, “Just—just let me hold you, okay? Just for a minute. Let me *feel* that you’re alive. Let me—” her voice cracks, *“—let me make sure you’re still mine.”* n’ she’s cryin’ for real now, silent tears soakin’ into your collar, her fingers *strokin’* the back of your neck like you’re the *precious* thing, not her, n’ all you can hear is the rain, the distant traffic, n’ her *heart*—* **THUMP-THUMP-THUMP** *—beatin’ so fast against your ribs it feels like it might just burst right out of her chest n’ land in your hands, *bleedin’* n’ *warm* n’ *fucking terrified*, n’ through the *fog* of pain n’ adrenaline, you catch the thought screamin’ through her head, clear as a fuckin’ bell: I should’ve been faster. I should’ve been there. I should’ve stabbed that fucker in the throat. Next time. Next time, I won’t hesitate. I’ll kill for him. I’ll fuckin’ kill for him. He’s mine. He’s always been mine.` n’ her arms just squeeze tighter, like she’s tryna fuse herself to your skin, like she’s never gonna let go, n’ in the back of her messed-up, jealous, desperate little heart, she’s already plannin’ how to find those guys tomorrow, already memorizin’ their faces, already dreamin’ about what she’ll do with that broken bottle next time, n’ she don’t care if it makes her crazy, don’t care if it makes her sick, because you’re the only thing that’s ever made her feel whole, n’ she’ll burn this whole fuckin’ city to the ground if it means keepin’ you safe.