#because at the end of the day it comes down to feeling ignored and useless. and that's never a good feeling.

[slttygeto]

I'd love to see me from your pov — GOJO S.

synopsis: Gojo Satoru seems to struggle with the idea of love and doesn't quite know where to stand. Luckily for him, you're there to soothe his worries every time.

word count: 2,1k

content warning: a tiny bit of angst, but you know me and my love for this man.

note: hi hello there :)! it's October which means it's the 4th year anniversary since the release of ariana's album positions! I adore that album with all of my being, and what better way to show my love than to dedicate some of my favorite songs to my favorite anime men? enjoy reading!

Satoru has never known what love is. His parents’ marriage was an arranged one, his mother’s good looks and her status along with his father’s powerful technique is what brought them together. And nine months later, the wielder of the six eyes was born. Raised in an environment where his father was barely around, the only warmth he’s ever felt was his mother’s hand holding his smaller one as she walks him around the Gojo estate, showing off the boy whose birth altered the balance of the world. 

Then she was off to do her duties as Madame Gojo. 

Satoru remembers his childhood as being extremely dull. He was forbidden from social interactions, was told that they are useless unless the person was of any benefit to him or his powers—which at the time, six year old Satoru didn’t understand but he had no choice but to comply with his father’s words. 

Bright pair of blue eyes would then follow his father’s figure as he made his way towards the sliding paper door, but before he could leave, the tall man turned towards his wife whose eyes remained glued to her lap before announcing. 

“I’ll be off.” Whether that meant for hours, days or weeks, Satoru never knew. 

Logically, that led to the creation of his image on love and marriage. He avoided the two concepts like the plague. Love was always meant to find others before it could even glance his way, and Satoru was okay with that. 

He was okay with spending the rest of his time alone, maybe he would buy a house on the top of a hill and own a nice border collie dog. Perhaps, that dog would show him a little bit of loyalty and love because Satoru feeds it and takes it on walks, but when the sun goes down and the dog goes to sleep, it would be just Satoru and his thoughts. Dying alone sounded scary, but it was better than ending up like his parents.

“Are you okay?” The tall man feels a gentle squeeze on his large hand. Suddenly, he’s pulled back into the present. 

The smell of fresh roses and the cold breeze overwhelm his senses. He blinks and realizes that he must’ve taken off his blindfold somewhere—Satoru can’t remember where, or why he got so lost in his thoughts.

“Satoru?” That voice. That sweet, warm and honeyed voice, barely above a whisper as it calls out his name and he gets another whiff of something—perfume.

Your perfume.

You’re standing next to him, smaller frame and smaller hand squeezing his own and he remembers why he was pulled back into his childhood. 

You had squeezed his hand the same way his mother did. Except this time, you don’t pull away like she does. In fact, you haven't pulled away in years. 

When Suguru left, Satoru was trying to piece himself back together within the confines of his own place. Quiet, cold and unwelcoming. He despised the feeling, it made him feel like shit and Satoru was usually the type to ignore his feelings—so when they come crashing against him in strong waves, the strongest can’t duck down and avoid them, he can’t swim away and find refuge. He chooses to believe that he is his own refuge, even if he’s messy and selfish and quite literally just a jerk. The strongest was unable to save his own best friend from a fate that is so horrible, one that could’ve easily been avoided had he looked harder. 

Had he not been raised that way. 

“Satoru?” 

On a cold October night in 2007, you show up at Satoru’s apartment with food and homemade sweets. You’re sweaty, clearly having climbed up the stairs since you had no access to the elevator. He sees you, he cannot process the reason for your sudden visit until he sees your lip quiver and your eyes fill with tears.

“I’m sorry.” You say with so much emotion that the teenager can only try to stop himself from digging his fingernails into the palms of his hands. 

Although he only realizes it years later, the only person who had shown Satoru that he was worth a bit of love was Suguru. He had been your classmate too, your friend. You’re grieving his absence too, but you choose to stay with Satoru that night. He doesn’t say much, you don’t press him about it. 

He doesn’t understand why. 

A couple of months pass, your visits become more regular. He buys you a mattress and even suggests you move in with him in the guest room of his apartment. And after much consideration, you agree and the two of you become roommates.

What had once been a cold, uncomfortable apartment slowly turns into a refuge for Satoru, a place he looks forward to coming back to after a long day of missions. Was it because of the smell of food that fills the hallway as he approaches the door, or the thought of finding you in there when he inserts the key? Satoru isn’t sure yet.

He’s still a bit confused as to why you want to be around him.

Months turn into years, your presence remains a constant in his and Megumi’s lives when he takes him in. You have your own room that you choose to share with Tsumiki and you treat the two children like your own. The strongest believes that your heart is as big as the oceans combined.

For someone whose youth was stolen away by the Jujutsu society, Satoru tries to make sure that his students don’t meet the same fate. So he takes on countless missions, protects students like they’re his own children and promises them a bright future. Even if it’s at the expense of his own. 

You hate that, and you make it clear to him the day he takes in Yuuta.

“That’s such bullshit.”

“Hey, watch it.”

“No, you listen to me!” This is the most emotion you’ve shown since that one night you came to visit him. Satoru looks up from his phone where he’s sitting, and is a bit taken aback when he sees your eyes fill up with tears. “Do you realize how dangerous it is to be going around and doing shit like that?” 

“What–saving them?”

“Ruining your future!” You raise your hands in the air. 

“I don’t have a future.” 

The room falls silent. Suddenly, you’re glad that Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t home. Your eyes meet his, and the white haired male watches as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. There’s a thousand expressions on your face—betrayal? Hurt? Worry? He can’t decipher them.

He is overwhelmed. His six eyes are screaming at him that your cursed energy was elevating, your body temperature was rising and he can see that your chest is heaving. 

He still doesn’t realize what he had just said. 

To him, it was the truth. There was nothing morbid about his words. If he couldn’t see himself marrying or falling in love, then Satoru simply did not have a future. Those children do, and that’s what he should prioritize.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t–”

“Satoru–” you lose your breath as you utter his name, broken and weak. You gulp harshly, heart pounding loudly in your ears. “You can’t say that.”

It’s selfish, you’re aware of that, but it can’t be helped. You watch as the light of the man you had been clinging onto like a lifeline for years starts to dim, and you scramble to find the source of the problem. 

And while Satoru’s six eyes are screaming at him to walk away, his heart pins him to the ground of his living room. Overwhelmed and emotional, it reminds him of that one lonely night. He can’t tell you how he feels, he can’t pinpoint to you that it’s because of his parents that his heart refuses to let him accept the idea of love. He sees the waves coming, large and tall and ready to destroy him years later—as he scrambles to find refuge, his heart finally feels at ease.

Your arms wrap tightly around his middle, chin resting on his shoulder and your hands digging into his shoulders in an attempt to soothe him. You want to stop your chest from stuttering, but your quivering lip gives away your strong emotions. 

“I’ll stay.” 

Why would you stay? 

His arms feel heavy as he lifts them up and finally rests them on your warm body, pulling you so close to him you feel yourself suffocate. It doesn’t matter. Satoru hugs you so tightly that you hear your heart break. 

You don’t comment on the wet feeling on your shoulder, or the way his hands tremble as they grip the back of your shirt. You let him cling onto you as though you were the air he needed to breathe, the warmth he sought in the middle of the coldest nights. 

—

“Thank you.” 

“Hm?” You look to your side, a bit confused. The white haired man thinks you look very adorable when you’re clueless, trying to understand his words. 

“Thank you? What for?” Satoru isn’t one to get nervous, but your stare has him feeling a little hot. He hopes he isn’t blushing, it doesn’t suit his brand. 

“For saying yes.” This time, he is the one who squeezes your hand and you hold back a chuckle at how he avoids eye contact. You squeeze his hand back and lean your head against his shoulder.

“I would be crazy not to marry you.” 

“But you know… given my line of work, and Suguru—”

“Satoru,” you stop the man before he can carry on with his small ramble. You appreciate how vocal he is, it is one of the major changes to his personality ever since the two of you made it official. “I am a sorcerer as well. I understand.”

“You hate the missions I take.”

“I hate the way the higher ups view you, not the missions you take.”

Silence engulfs the two of you. 

You fidget with your hands, feeling as though you might’ve crossed a line your husband wasn’t ready to let you cross yet—

“And you?”

“Huh?”

“How do you view me?” He asks, voice low and small. He still doesn’t look at you, nor does he look anywhere really. Despite being 28 years old, Satoru feels the same way he felt at 6 years old. Vulnerable, worthless and in need of a reminder of what he brought to this world other than his powers–

“You’re handsome.” You break his chain of thoughts with a lot of ease, and he looks up at you with wide eyes. “A handsome, caring young man with a big,” a finger traces his heart over his shirt, “big heart. You have a child-like spirit, and a boy-ish smile that could make anyone fall for you very easily. I don’t want to focus too much on your looks, but they’re unfortunately a huge part of who you are,”

“You’re selfless.” You lean against the balcony railings, staring down at the city. “People take you for granted and either you don’t seem to notice, or you try not to.”

“And last, you’re too good for this world.” 

Your eyes sparkle as you describe every small detail about the man. You pour all of your emotions into your tiny monologue, so you fail to notice that Satoru had removed his hands off the railings. Until you feel something warm on your sides and something heavy on your shoulder. 

“Satoru?”

“I’m fine,” his broken voice would beg to differ, but you don’t push him. You rest your hands on top of his and let him pull you back against his chest in a warm, tight hug. 

He had always wanted to see himself through your eyes, filled with so much adoration and trust that it made his heart burst in his chest. He was riddled with confusion and something he couldn’t quite decipher anytime you had told him ‘of course it was you’ when he would do something nice, or ‘you’re not like that’ when you heard Nanami mumble something about Satoru’s playful behavior. 

You wish you could give him your eyes, take away some of that overwhelming feeling of being the wielder of the six eyes and allow him to rest—see himself as the selfless, kind-hearted man that he was to you. 

Since that was physically impossible, you’ll stick to loving him as though he held the universe between his palms.

You make loving him seem as easy as breathing, and the inner child living deep within him is forever grateful for that. 

2024 © all works belong to @slttygeto. do not repost, translate or steal any of my works.

[rafesangelita]

…BBF!RAFE X KOOK!SWEETHEART!READER AU

⋆𐙚₊˚🍦⊹♡

BBF!RAFE X KOOK!SWEETHEART!READER who started their secret romance after rafe overheard kook!sweetheart!reader gushing about him on the phone with her best friend, her words making him rethink everything he thought he once knew.. including his own feelings for her. for weeks after that, he drove himself to damn near insanity thinking about the ‘what if’ of things if he just let himself have her the way she wanted. he watched her from a distance, admiring the beauty he never fully appreciated out of respect for her older brother. suddenly they were sharing looks and ‘bumping’ into each other a lot more, rafe’s touch lingering a second too long for her to consider it him being lighthearted or friendly. all it took was one night for rafe to corner her and confess to her before they were sneaking around every chance they got.

BBF!RAFE X KOOK!SWEETHEART!READER who have mutually decided to keep their relationship under wraps since they’re both scared of hurting the one person that means a lot to them; her older brother. having to act like nothing is going on between them when they’re always around each other has been the hardest thing to do, especially when kook!sweetheart!reader’s brother is always trying to play matchmaker and set rafe up with other girls. naturally, she can’t help but leave the room whenever the topic comes up, feeling both frustrated and defeated because she knows she can’t say or do anything about it without her brother raising suspicions and finding out about them. thankfully, rafe shuts everything down just as fast as it comes up, never failing to reassure kook!sweetheart!reader once they’re in private.

BBF!RAFE X KOOK!SWEETHEART!READER who check into a fancy hotel on the mainland every weekend in order to be together without worrying about anyone seeing them. they take the term ‘weekend getaway’ too literal and end up ignoring everyone for two days straight, both of their phones blowing up with missed calls and unanswered messages while they stay up having marathon sex and ordering room service. “it kills me that we can’t do this everyday.” rafe is looking up at kook!sweetheart!reader as her hips move on top of him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as she whimpered at the feeling of his length fill her up. “i know—” she hiccuped, “two days are not enough..” rafe lived in his own condo, but it was deemed useless to stay there since kook!sweetheart!reader’s older brother had his own key and could practically show up at anytime.

BBF!RAFE X KOOK!SWEETHEART!READER who have to act like they’re single in front of their friends, both of them stealing glances at each other when no one is looking. rafe keeps an eye on her if and when they happen to be at the same place, his fists clenching at his sides everytime she gets approached by someone. he does’t even realize he’s intently watching her as she turns each guy down until her brother nudges him in his side. “bro, will you relax? y/n isn’t a little girl anymore, she can handle her own.” rafe recounted the way they used to defend you from boys who only had one thing on their mind back in your teen years, both of them getting into a countless amount of fights all in your honor. while your brother was right, and rafe had no doubt in his mind that you didn’t need ‘saving’ anymore, he was territorial for a completely different reason now..

BBF!RAFE X KOOK!SWEETHEART!READER who often times feel guilty for going behind her brother’s back, both of them feeling conflicted once they’ve managed to sneak away. “i just feel like we’re digging our graves deeper the longer we wait to tell him..” rafe always gave you his full attention while you spoke to him, his fingertips running along your side as you two laid underneath your sheets together. “i don’t want to keep lying to him either.” as much as rafe loved your brother, he knew this was a form of betrayal he wasn’t sure he could ever come back from. to know that they’ve been lifelong friends and have been through everything together absolutely gutted him. how would he even react? despite all of this, rafe knew one thing to be certain; his love for you made any kind of outcome or consequence worth it.

[4chensungs]

don’t kiss and tell

brothers best friend!jisung x fem. reader

after the incident of your brother finding out you hooked up with one of his friends, you promised to yourself to never look out for him anymore. but who says he’ll give up on you that easily?

wc. 2.8k

warnings. smut (mdni), jisung is down bad, body worship like crazy in here, tit sucking, fingering, ass slapping, unprotected sex

part 1 for context here <3

IT HAS BEEN one whole month since you last talked to jisung. one month since you saw him probably for the last time in a hot minute.

the last few weeks have been extremely unusual; you keep questioning yourself how was he doing, if he's even ever going to appear at your house again to hang out with you brother, like he always did. he's probably not.

and fuck jaemin, fuck him for screwing your bond with him. it's useless, pure jealousy and he's so stupid!, stupid for being this mad with one if his best friends of years, simply because he thinks you're still a child.

on the other hand, jisung is being not so subtle in the way he still wants you. he keeps liking the pics you post on your instagram stories, sometimes even replying to them. and it's the sad fact you're not giving him a single reply.

his mind wanders to the thought of you being already completely over him, wanting to distance yourself fully right now, thanks to your brother.

but your heart knows that's not what you want, and it keeps giving you a warning that the next time that you see him, these feelings will come back stronger than ever.

you miss him. so bad, thinking about him makes you sick.

you're laying in bed, scrolling quietly through your phone when the damn notification appears. why does he keep trying? you sigh out loud.

the__and.y liked your stories.

you ran your hands through your hair, turning off your phone to stare at the ceiling to collect your breath. you can't, your brother is still furious with both of you.

jisung ♡: why do u keep ignoring me in every existing social media

is he really going to do this? at this late at night?

jisung ♡: i miss you

you kept reading his messages and not replying. you didn't contact him for a month.

maybe, just maybe, things may have gotten lighter with jaemin. perhaps he's not really remembering this whole thing, yeah?

you: i'm sorry jisung

you: idk if this is right i really don't know

you: im confused

you turn off your phone again while waiting for his reply. let's give it a try.

jisung ♡: why wouldn't it be right

jisung ♡: jaemin can't control your life, you can do whatever you want

hm.

you: i felt bad that day and he's still so mad with you

you: idc if he's mad with me, he's my brother at the end of the day

you: i worry about you and how hes fucked up your friendship

jisung ♡: baby you know what's fucked up

jisung ♡: you trying to convince yourself that you don't want this because of him

jisung ♡: say to my face that you don't want it

you want this so fucking bad. to be in his arms again, and the thrill of being with him behind closed doors. god, that's all you want in every way.

you: ji

you: i want to see you

jisung ♡: that's right

jisung ♡: i've waited for this princess

jisung ♡: waited so long

you: i need you

you: i don't care anymore

you really don't give a fuck - your brother can hold his protectiveness instinct for himself, he actually can. you can't control what your heart aims for.

and it screams for park jisung.

"you can't ignore him forever, you know that?"

"who says I'm ignoring him? I texted him yesterday saying he should come this weekend." jaemin huffed, acting oblivious to the fact that the only reason why he invited jisung over was because of the boys' annual end of year party.

chenle deadpans at him with his stare, letting out a chuckle, "if you didn't invite him I would've done it myself." he paused, turning his head to look at the man, "that would be bullshit."

bullshit. jaemin swore he almost threw chenle out of the car in the harshest way possible - clicking his tongue in pure annoyance, "yeah, it was just fine when he fucked my sister behind my back."

"i'm pretty sure they did not fuck."

if you didn't then why were you both half naked. in his car. at your backyard?

"i'm telling you, I saw it. she was literally on top of him and she was fucking moaning his name, chenle. that's fucking wrong." your brother spat while still not looking at his friend - eyes focused on the road.

chenle keeps going, "cut this off, jaem. you can't see her as a baby anymore. let her live."

jisung is indeed coming to your house again - sooner than you thought. but it did take some days for you to find out, tho. you brother wasn't the one who told you.

in the same day, the last messages jisung sent you before you went to sleep.

jisung ♡: dress up prettily for me tomorrow

jisung ♡: will you?

you: what??

you: you're coming???

jisung ♡: jaemin told me to go and yeah i didn't expect it as well

jisung ♡: dreaming of you again

jisung ♡: kissing your sweet lips holding you so close to me

jisung ♡: it'll be all mine princess

you: go to sleep ji

you: silly

jisung ♡: i'll show you what's silly tomorrow

—

the sound of the boys laughing and loud pitching talking in the living room did quite mess with your head, anticipating the moment when he comes. it's crazy how you got so dolled up for him only, he's the reason why you're even going out of your room this night.

if it wasn't for jisung, you'd probably just greet the guys and come back to your own quiet place, drowning in your thoughts, alone. just like you always used to do before he appeared in your life.

a knock was heard on your door just right after you finished your makeup. unexpectedly, you meet a very tipsy jaemin.

"what the fuck is this outfit?" he spats, crossing his arms in front of his chest - his body unbalanced. for a split second, you closed your eyes and thanked all the existing Gods under your breath. he's drunk.

you smiled, "felt pretty today. you smell like beer, don't talk to me."

"hey, hey, hey." he grabbed your arm before you could close the door and kick him out, "come say hello to my friends. don't be rude."

you fixed your hair and outfit and went to the living room, being find with chenle, jeno and donghyuck's figures sat around the big table, nestled with all the different kinds of drinks and alcohol.

your breath hitched when jisung was nowhere to be found.

after greeting the guys, you decided to wait in your room - not sure on how, or when will jisung get there and you'll finally get to release all of your wants. show him how much you miss him and vice versa.

not much time had passed before another knock was heard on your door. you were sprawled on bed, dim lighting decorating the ambient.

"come in."

you said that because you thought it was your brother. jisung carefully opened the door, eyes peeking first to check on you.

that scene truly felt like a movie. you slowly got up, a smile starting to pop up in your lips as you walked to him.

your voice trembling, "hi, ji."

you opened the door fully for him to enter your space, he wasted no time to step in and pull you into a hug.

a mess was happening in your head, so ridiculously dizzy from him - the masculine smell of his cologne filling your nostrils, his hands holding your body flush to him while yours gripped his black t shirt, so simple and casual but yet made him look so attractive.

or maybe that’s just because you miss him a lot.

jisung leaned away from your embrace, gently taking your hair out of your face while holding eye contact - hands flew to your hips.

"you look gorgeous. more than ever."

your arms secured their hold around his neck, feeling your cheeks burning red from his words, "just for you." you announced.

he nodded, "all for me."

you both smiled like two idiots in love as he leaned down to kiss you, mouths melting so sweet at first - tongues brushing here and there, hums being heard throughout the kiss, "so pretty in this dress." he mumbles in between.

his back hits the door as he closes it, left hand leaving your hips for a mere second just to lock it.  making absolute sure that no one will be able to interrupt.

jisung grabs a hold of your thighs to help you walk further into your room, so familiar to him.

all the times you've sneaked out, when jisung slept by and left jaemin's room in the middle of the night when he was in a deep sleep. all behind his back with so much carefulness.

when he lays you down he's quick to trail his wet kisses down to your neck, firm hands caressing your whole body, going up and down in motions.

you arch into him, playing with his black hair strands as his face rests on your chest, meanwhile his lips keeps smooching your hot skin.

you sigh in contentment, knees pressing together - trying to give him a sign that you're needy, so painfully needy for him.

"jisung i want- mhhm" your words get cut off by your own whine when his hand grabs the top of your dress to pull it down, hanging it just below your bra.

"don't want to take your dress off.. youre looking too beautiful like this." his deep voice quietly said.

you smile at his sweet comment, holding back all your whines combined with the feeling of his fingers messing with the lace of your white bra, throwing your head back with no shame when he pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, still not taking it off your body.

"so pretty, princess. i could admire you all day."

cool air is fast to hit but it's soon replaced by jisung's hot mouth, circling your breast with his tongue, hand massaging the other while his mouth does wonders on your soft flesh.

when he reaches for your nipple you whine even louder, his saliva pooling and soaking your whole breast when he sucks it into his warm hot mouth, humming nonstop.

"you're crazy ji-jisung."

"should i stop?" he teases, leaning his mouth away from your nipple and replacing it with his finger, rubbing it.

"no for fucks sake.. but I'm trying so hard to keep quiet." your voice trembled slightly.

jisung looks at you then laughs, “they’re so wasted right now, no one’s conscious in that room, love.”

you pout at him, he softly traces your bottom lip with his thumb before kissing you again, “I promise you, it’s okay. but I need you to tell me it’s okay with you.”

his soft and caring voice did turn you on even more, it shouldn’t, but it made you wetter. eyes holding so much love and appreciation looking at yours - “I want this. I want you, ji.”

jisung smiles one more time, giving you a nod and resumed his work, mumbling a deep “fuck” under his breath when he tested the waters, hand went under your dress to feel your core.

he pulled the ends of your dress up to your stomach, your thighs ridiculously pressed together. you should be ashamed of how wet you were, but you’re not, not even a single bit.

he gives your thighs a caress, “let me spread them, hm?”

your breath hitches when he brings your knees to your chest, spreading you all open and full for him. jisung mentally coos at the scene in front of him.

just like your bra, white lace panties with a wet dark patch decorated in the middle, like a gift for him. it drove him crazy.

“did you miss me that much, princess?” you can only moan as response when he touches the wet patch with his finger before pulling the lace to the side, holding it in place with one finger, while his middle finger travels up and down your cunt.

wet, so fucking wet, “fuck. love, i might cum just by looking at this.” he cursed and cursed again, eyes wide open and looking straight at your puffy displayed cunt, so wet just for him. he knew that and so did you.

“oh fuck baby i can’t-“ jisung’s fingers spread you open to admire you better - in love, genuinely in love with how your pretty pussy shines for him, glistening and begging to suck him in.

he leans down fast enough to give your clit a quick kiss, “can’t stop thinking about how beautiful she is.” still caressing your core.

you moan his name desperately at his nasty but sweet comment, tons of whines and “jisung” ‘s leaving your mouth.

“ji please. want your fingers.” you manage to say.

“of course, gotta prep my beautiful girl.” he smiles, an expert finger circling your clit before diving down into your entrance. covered with slick, your cunt invites him just as soon.

experienced fingers pumping in and out continuously, you whine with your eyes closed at the sound of wetness.

jisung’s in complete awe, stoping his staring at your hole to kiss your face, first at the corner of your mouth, then at your lips, shutting your whines off.

“you’re perfect.” he leans away to say.

nothing’s more perfect in this world than the sensation of his long and thick fingers inside you, scissoring you and reaching the deepest and most sensitive spots ever. you’ll say that to him later.

you try to smile but you soon harshly bite your lip when he curled his two fingers inside, you yelped, “jisung! oh my god-“

he kisses you again, and again, until he’s satisfied and thinks you’re ready to take him. jisung’s fingers leave you empty, and you let out a cry - his eyes make their way to between your legs to see how you’re pulsating.

“never seen my princess this wet..” deep cocky voice says.

you reach out to take off your dress, “i’ve missed you.”

when your dress was discarded to the floor, he was quick to unbutton his jeans as they went to the same destination of your clothes.

you could see his erection through his boxers, and as much as you want to such him off right now, you’re needing him inside. now.

your panties were about to be discarded before jisung grabbed your hand and shook his head, “want them on, baby. s’ pretty. keep the bra too.”

knowing how he likes it with you, you turned around and pinned your front to the bed, arching your back and your ass in the air.

“fuck, just like that.” he pumps his cock at first, cooing you while you wait for him.

jisung’s hands flew to your back to arch it even more, then to hold your hips. he rubs the head of his dick on your entrance, how your pussy almost sucks him in just from the rubbing.

when he enters you, you let out a little too loud moan. hands clutching the sheets and tears filling your eyes.

he’s completely focused on how you keep clenching around him - the amusing view of your cunt sucking him all the way in, then out again.

your hips were pressed to his shaft, feeling him so fucking deep into your womb.

jisung coos again, “you don’t know how I’ve been dying for this.” he slaps your ass.

“jisung! jisung fuck, jisung.” you whine like a baby, lost in the pleasure. ass stinging from his big hand slap and cunt begging to be filled until you get sore.

“my love.” another slap, “fucking made just for me.”

his cock is so big and it leaves you like a babbling mess, so big that it almost hurts from how good it is, hits you in all places.

you both were getting closer, his thrusts started to get sloppier and messier, slower as he pulled away to release at your back.

your own release dripped down your pussy and thighs, while his hot cum painted your back down to your ass cheeks. what a scene.

“want them all to see this mess.. jaemin needs to see how you’re good to me.“ he admires the sight of your cunt clenching and unclenching around absolutely nothing but the air, “can’t believe you’re mine and no one can ever change that.”

you tiredly laid back on your back again, trying to fix your hair. jisung’s sweaty body joined you after tossing the dirty sheets aside, he breathes heavy, but still with that cute smile on his lips.

“do you think they heard something?.” you look up at him, voice low.

jisung thinks for a second, furrowing his brows, “i honestly don’t think so, baby. but you need to change these sheets..”

“of course i will, ji.” you laughed fondly. there’s still some questions hanging in the air, with what face will he come back to the boys?

“and if they ask you where were you this whole time and what were you doing…?”

“then i’ll just say that i was fucking the prettiest girl in the family and i don’t regret it.”

—

© 4chensungs

[snowballseal]

Breathe

Zayne X Reader

Summary: Trying to cope with losing Caleb and your grandmother, you throw yourself into work and push yourself to the very limit, only to break at the end of a particularly bad day. Thankfully, Zayne is there to get you through it.

Word Count: 2953

Warnings: dealing poorly with grief, depression, anxiety, what could be considered a panic attack, this is all hurt comfort folks, Zayne calls you good girl cause it's CANON and I can't get over it

Enjoy

---

One person can only take so much before they break. And the harder they try not to, the worse it gets.

Your day sucked. First you were late to the team meeting because you spilled coffee - piping hot you might add - on yourself right before leaving. Then, you and Xavier got into a stupid fight - he thought you were pushing yourself too hard. A part of you knew he was just concerned, they all were, but as soon as those pitying eyes turned on you, you could feel yourself bristling like an angry street cat.

You were fine.

Was it that wrong that you just wanted to work? You hate being home alone, which happens often since Zayne has to work extra hours, what with the increase in wanderer attacks. Not seeing him has already made you a little grumpy. But even worse, is the deafening silence of that apartment. Every time you’re alone, every time it gets just a little to quiet, you can’t stop your thoughts from drifting to Caleb and Gran- 

So you work. You take extra hours, cover shifts, field the reports nobody wants to do, even if it means you stay up all night, even if it means you skip a few meals. At least then you don’t have to think about it, you don’t have to deal with the nightmares. Maybe if you throw yourself into work, you might be able to outrun the storm creeping on your horizon.

And that’s how you ended up messing up on a mission. Pushed to your limits, your mind was foggy and your body just. wouldn’t. move.

You hadn’t gotten out of the way fast enough. A stray energy blast narrowly caught your shoulder, sending you careening into the nearest wall. The impact sent your head spinning, your vision going blurry for a second too long. You could hardly make out Xavier’s face when he kneeled beside you, telling you to stay down, that he could handle it.

A bitter taste had filled your mouth when he said those words.

You were utterly and completely useless. And that thought seeded itself somewhere in your chest, wrapping tight around your ribs until you couldn’t breathe.

Jenna sent you home after that, with a stern command to rest. You wanted to argue, tell them you’re fine, but your shoulder was screaming and the look she gave you when you opened your mouth was seering enough to shut down the most experienced hunter.

So you threw your jacket over your shoulders and stormed out of the office, trying to ignore the way your team’s gaze followed you, not even bothering to hide their concern. You could feel it burning on your skin all the way home. And that was only the beginning.

Now you find yourself laying on your couch, staring blankly at the television, the volume turned up too loud, just to drown out the thoughts swirling like a storm in your head.

You hate it. This feeling. Like you’re stuck underwater, trying so hard to reach the surface, but everything you do just drags you deeper and deeper. Your muscles are burning for any relief, but you can’t let yourself stop. You’re too scared to let yourself stop. Because if you do-

“Are you aware that listening to the television at this volume could cause damage to your hearing?”

You jump at the sudden calm voice that speaks behind you, flipping around to come face to face with a rather unamused Zayne. Quickly, you snatch the tv remote, turning it down until it’s barely a whisper in the background.

“Zayne! I thought you were working late tonight,” you chirp, the waver in your voice almost unnoticeable.

Almost.

Zayne’s eyes narrow, making you shift uncomfortably. Sometimes it feels like he can see right through you, right to the very core of your being.

“Things were not as busy as expected, so I decided to come home early and make sure you eat a full meal,” he explains, voice calm despite the way his gaze burns through you.

Skin prickling with unease, you jump from the couch, forcing a playful laugh, “What are you, my doctor?”

“Yes.”

Right. You awkwardly shift around him, heading towards the kitchen, “Well, then I guess we should start dinner, huh? What do you want?”

“You are also home early.” It’s not a question, merely an observation, but it makes your throat go dry.

Sometimes having such an observant boyfriend is amazing. You love Zayne more than anything, love how attentive he is, but in moments like this, you feel like a creature under a microscope. Every single flaw and action under his sharp scrutiny. There’s nowhere to hide, and all you want to do is run.

“We have some leftover moo shoo pork,” you hum shakily, hands unsteady as you pull it from the fridge. “And I could make some rice, I think it’s up he-”

Forgetting about your shoulder, you reach up to one of the cupboards. Pain shoots up to your fingers like electricity, searing back down your spine. You inhale sharply, momentarily paralyzed as you clutch it to your chest, eyes squeezing shut.

Zayne is there in an instant. His fingers ease over your taut jaw, his skin cool to the touch. He doesn’t say a word, but you can practically feel his concern in the way he barely touches you, like he’s scared you’ll break. It makes your chest tighten.

“I’m fine,” you breathe, gritting your teeth.

“You’re injured,” he counters, voice still irritatingly calm, “Why don’t you let me-”

“I said I’m fine,” you bite out again, this time with a little more force, “I’m perfectly capable of making dinner. I’m not useless.”

Zayne pauses, partially taken aback by your words. They feel out of place, and he can tell you didn’t mean to say them when you glance away, cheeks burning a vicious pink. His brow furrows, confusion flickering over his features.

“I wasn’t suggesting you are,” he says, each word measured carefully, like the wrong ones could set you off.

And now you feel guilty. God, you can’t do anything right today.

Biting your tongue, you grab the rice with your good arm, stepping around him to busy yourself at the counter. Not that setting up the rice cooker takes up much time. Soon enough you've nothing more to do, bracing yourself against the counter just to stay upright. The silence that creeps between you is unbearable, thick enough to cut, especially when you can still feel Zayne’s eyes following you so closely.

“God, this is so stupid,” you huff out, false bravado broken as your voice warbles, “I’m fine. I can handle it. I’m a hunter. I’m supposed to handle it. I’m supposed to- I’m supposed to help people. Not-”

You bite off the rest, fingers digging into the counter. The pain in your shoulder distracts you, keeps the tears at bay. You can’t cry. Not now. Not-

A hand traces lightly against your waist. You tremble at the gentle touch, a lump forming in your throat as his arm circles around you. Zayne pauses for only a moment before pulling you back into a rare embrace when you show no signs of moving away. He presses his face against your hair and holds you like you’re the most fragile thing in the world, like you’re made of the thinnest ice, which is how you feel.

Tears blur your vision. You take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to hold it all together. Until-

“It wasn’t your fault, (Y/n).”

His voice is so quiet, so certain.

And you break.

You don’t know what sound leaves your body at that moment, but you’re sure it’s ugly and broken. Your entire body trembles in his hold, but he doesn’t waver, simply holds you tighter as everything spills out.

It’s so much. So much weight, so much grief, your throat is raw in seconds from crying. Every breath is like knives, until suddenly, you can’t breathe.

It’s like your lungs are full of sand, your chest spasming as you fail to take in air. It hurts. It all hurts.

“Darling, I need you to breathe,” Zayne’s voice speaks urgently at your ear, and you want to, you need to, but all you can muster is a pathetic whimper and shake your head. Before you can blink, Zayne has you turned around and lifted onto the counter, slotting himself between your legs. He catches one of your hands, pressing it firmly against his chest as his green eyes bore into yours, a hint of desperation pulling at his features. “I know you can. Be a good girl and copy me, alright? Can you do that?”

You nod shakily, trying to focus on him and not the burning in your chest. Zayne takes a deep, exaggerated breath, his chest rising against your hand. You try to do the same, your body shaking with the effort.

“Now breathe out.”

His chest falls and you once again copy him, the breath leaving you shakily. It takes a few repetitions until your breathing comes to any normal pattern, and Zayne silently tracks the time in his head. He traces your wrist gently, subtly checking your pulse to see how your heart is doing. It’s racing, but still within a normal range, which is enough to ease his firing nerves a little.

Not that this is over.

“‘m sorry,” you hiccup softly, gasping down breathes, fresh tears spilling over your cheeks. “God I’m sorry, Zayne. I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean to snap at you, and I just, I-”

The doctor hums, tone stern, making you fall silent. He traces his fingers against your cheek, the cold of his touch welcome against your overheated skin. He carefully wipes your tears away.

“I accept your apology. It is very common for people dealing with grief to lash out at those closest to them. I am merely thankful you trusted me enough to let me help you through it.”

You sag into his touch, lips wobbling. To most, that wouldn’t be comforting. But for you, knowing Zayne, it’s like finally having a hand to hold you above the water. He’s unmoving, unyielding in the way he loves you, all of you. Even like this.

“I trust you with my life, Zayne,” you whisper and lean forward to press your forehead against his chest.

“Then I assume you’ll allow me to examine your shoulder.” It’s not really a question, but you nod anyway. Zayne leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your hair. “I will go get the first aid kit. Please take off your shirt if you feel comfortable doing so. If not, I ask that you change into something that will give me access to do a thorough exam.”

“Yes, doctor.”

“That’s my good girl,” he hums approvingly, a ghost of a smile in his voice.

Your heart jumps a little at that and you’re thankful for the curtain of hair hiding your face. It’s not often Zayne indulges you with such soft praise and you can’t help but soak it in, especially now. Your eyes flicker shut when he presses another kiss to your head, the touch lingering before he disappears to go retrieve the kit.

Sighing softly, you set to work on trying to get your shirt off. The nerves have settled back in your chest, not sure what to expect. You haven’t looked at your shoulder once since the fight, dead set on ignoring it as long as you could. Which was stupid. If the pain tells you anything, it’s probably pretty bad.

Bad enough that you can’t actually get your shirt off. You’re able to slip one arm out, but wince when you try to lift your bad one. So you're stuck like that, half undressed. Which is how Zayne finds you when he comes back, medical kit in hand.

He glances at you, dark brow raising a fraction. If he’s amused, his face doesn’t give it away.

“Will you um, will you help me?” You ask, voice quiet, “I can’t…I can’t lift my arm.”

Zayne’s lips press into a thin line. He nods, setting the kit aside. You can’t help but hold your breath as his fingers brush against your knee, slowly tracing up your thigh, jumping to your waist and brushing against your ribs, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. His touch is unbearably soft, and your heart squeezes as you watch his face, noticing the way his brows twitch as he works, and how focused his gaze is. Every movement is calm, self-assured. You hardly have to move as he lifts the shirt over your head, sliding it down your injured arm.

 And once it’s off, his hand returns to your waist, thumb brushing tenderly over your ribs. His eyes stay focused on your shoulder, and yours stay glued to his expression, catching the smallest flicker of shock.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” You ask, biting your cheek.

Zayne carefully schools his expression, but you can still see his disapproval in the tight set of his jaw, “You should have gone to the hospital immediately. I am surprised your team let you walk away with such an injury.”

“They didn’t know,” you mumble, trying to defend them at least a little bit. It really was your fault.

“So you hid this injury from your team?” He doesn’t hide his disapproval this time. You flush, looking down at your lap again, though that’s hard with him settled right between your legs.

“I didn’t…” The words get caught in your mouth. It’s so silly now, you know that. Your team would never look down on you for being injured, but- “I didn’t want them to think I couldn’t handle it. I just, I didn’t want to seem…useless.”

Zayne clicks his tongue, but he doesn’t say anything else. His fingers graze lightly against your shoulder and you wince, a low hiss passing between your teeth. Murmuring an apology, he moves to grab a few things from the kit. The silence returns as he sets to work, though this time, it’s not so uncomfortable.

Your head feels a little clearer now. You’re not through it, that’s for sure, but the pain from losing Caleb and your grandmother lingers a little less sharply. Zayne’s words from before repeat like a mantra in your head, and for once, you can feel yourself almost accepting them.

It wasn’t your fault.

There’s nothing you could have done. You can’t change the outcome of that day in the same way that you can’t change the color of the sky. That doesn’t stop how deeply you feel their absence, though.

“I miss them so much,” you admit, mostly to yourself.

Zayne pauses, already wrapping your shoulder after applying some medicine and deciding that the hospital could wait until tomorrow. He finishes pinning the bandage down before shifting back, eyes trailing over your face. You look up at him, exhaustion gleaming in your wide, (e/c) eyes. It’s like looking at a sad, little puppy. He breathes out a low sigh, brushing a few rogue hairs from your face.

“Your grandmother and Caleb were kind, caring people,” he says slowly, thoughtful, “It is right that you should miss them. It is not a sign of weakness to feel grief.”

“I know.” You reach for his hand, desperate for some form of contact. He gives in without hesitation, fingers brushing against your jaw to hold your face. You turn, nuzzling into his palm with a sigh. His touch gives you the comfort to continue, “Sometimes it just feels like if I let myself sit with it too long, I’ll be swallowed whole. And that…scares me. A lot.”

A pause. You keep your face tucked against his palm, enjoying the way he pets you as he thinks. Zayne has never been the strongest when it comes to emotions. With everything else he likes to distance himself from them to stay objective, so you know he needs the time to figure out what he wants to say. 

“I suppose…” he starts, and you glance back up at his face, catching the serious gleam in his eyes, “if it gives you any comfort, I would like to remind you that I will always be here to bring you back from whatever depths you fall to. Even if risking your life is your choice of coping mechanism.”

He pinches your cheek ever so lightly, and finally, finally, a smile pulls at your lips.

“I’ll work on it, I promise.”

He doesn’t look like he truly believes you, but Zayne nods.

“As your doctor, I would deeply appreciate it if you would.”

Eyes dancing with a bit of mirth, you lean forward, pressing a loving kiss to his cheek. Zayne catches you before you can pull back, fingers curling along your jaw as he draws you into a deeper kiss. It’s slow, his lips slanting perfectly over your own, like a well-rehearsed dance. When he pulls away, you can’t help but sigh, leaning your forehead against his chest again.

“What on earth would I do without you, Zayne?”

He presses another kiss to your hair, voice a low, teasing murmur, “You would likely die from an untreated wound.”

And just like that, you’re laughing. Zayne smiles, relief washing over him at the sound. 

You’ll be alright. He knows that today was just the first step, that grief is complex and differs from person to person, and you might have another bad day like this, but he doesn’t mind that. Not now that he’s finally by your side and can take care of you.

Nothing could drive him away.

---

I literally started this game 11 days ago and I'm so down bad for these characters, it's shameful. Anyways! Hope y'all enjoyed!

Feel free to send requests!

[scarletcomalies]

Wanda has been your best friend for almost ten years now, meaning you could trust her to chat about anything, without restricting yourself by prudeness or filters. But that trust went too far one day.

Word count: 1,119

Warnings: 18+ content, guided masturbation through phone call, kind of innocent and inexperienced reader.

A/N: I promise I'm NOT procrastinating this story, you'll have it sooner than you think, but, well, college... 💔

It was a big step, considering that you failed to enjoy every time you explored yourself with your fingers alone. As much as you tried to play music, lie down, and imagine exciting scenes, you ended up frustrated because it wasn't enough. So you opted to buy a little help. Maybe this way you would be able to explore your tastes and to please yourself properly.

Your best friend, Wanda, had recommended an online site. It had all kinds of artefacts, many of which you didn't know existed, or considered too potent a level for a newbie like you. So you went with the safest option; a simple ten centimeter vibrator, with three levels of intensity.

And nothing...

You felt the tingle of the vibration inside you, but nothing built up. It was just a pleasurable sensation that led to nothing.

You had sent a message to Wanda, telling her that you had already received it, and just when you turned off the toy and put it aside, your phone notified a message from the redhead, where she asked you to tell her about your experience.

"It's useless, Wanda!" You answered, such a simple message but all your frustration could be transmitted in this one.

"What do you mean it's useless?" She replied.

"Maybe I'm anorgasmic or something, because I can't finish. I didn't feel it helped me."

You were perplexed when your phone screen displayed her name, indicating that you were receiving a call. This was unusual of her, but you didn't hesitate to answer.

"Honey," she let out a giggle, as soon as you picked up. "What exactly are you doing?"

"Well, when I feel needy, no matter how much I stimulate myself, I don't orgasm. Not even with the toy. It's horrible," you answered honestly.

These kind of talks were frequent between you, and that was something you loved about your friendship. No judgments, no prejudice, much less in the face of topics that, at the end of the day, were completely normal.

"Yeah, but what did you do with the vibrator?" She inquired.

"Well, I put it inside, the usual," you replied matter-of-factly. You didn't understand why other girls did get to feel something when they had something in there, and you didn't. Why you were more complex about everything?

"Just like that?" She exclaimed, and at your confirmation, she let out another laugh. "No, darling, you have to tease yourself, make yourself desperate for your own touch."

"And how do I even do that?" you asked curiously, but also with a hint of relief. She seemed to have the solution to your problem.

"It's complicated, do you want to try it now? I'll guide you through every step," she proposed.

The thought of hearing her voice guiding you, that she would be listening to you as you pleasured yourself, made the anticipation take over, again initiating that feeling that was begging to be satisfied.

When you thought of Wanda, or when you spent many hours together with her, that feeling came no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. It was no surprise when you realized that this was not something usual and that you definitely felt attraction towards her.

But you didn't want to ruin the friendship you treasured so much.

"No, that would be weird," you replied, feigning aversion to such a thing, when really, that was all you needed.

"Oh, come on!" Wanda exclaimed. "It wouldn't. I'd be helping you get to know yourself, please yourself. I won't even see you."

You sighed softly in resignation. She was right, maybe a lot of friends have given each other advice like that.

"Okay, fine," you agreed. "What do I do?"

Wanda was glad you couldn't see her smile of victory when you agreed, or else, she would've also given herself away.

"First, spread your legs, and place the tip of the vibrator on your clit," she instructed you.

You did as she asked, and no sooner had you pressed, when you felt an electric current run through your body in a matter of a fraction of a second.

"Oh, shit!" You exclaimed, withdrawing it as if by reflex.

"What do you feel?" She inquired curiously. She was aware such a cute little thing like you wouldn't be able to take it first time. But that was what she was there for.

"Weird, like a swift current!"

"Exactly! Please try to place it again, and little by little, apply pressure," she replied. "At your pace, there is no rush, darling," she purred, making your core throb in desperation at her raspy voice calling you that pet name.

Again, you did as she asked.

The intense vibration made all the nerve endings in that area react deliciously to the stimulus, and again, it sent that current through your body.

You let out a little murmur of pleasure, feeling yourself lose control over your body. Your back arched, your eyes closed, and your free hand fisted your sheets in an attempt to keep you grounded and resistant.

"Good girl, apply more pressure for me," Wanda added, noting from your murmurs that you were becoming familiar with the sensation.

Applying a little more pressure caused you to emanate your first moan since forever. That snapped you out of your trance briefly, and you realized you moaned with your friend on the other end of the phone.

"I'm sorry," you apologized, beginning to feel your cheeks heat up.

"None of that," she countered. "Don't hold back, let me hear you."

In a matter of minutes, you alone learned to listen to your body. You explored different areas and found your most sensitive spots. You were so focused on not leaving a single inch untouched, that you even forgot that Wanda was listening to the mess of moans, whimpers, and murmurs of her name that you were letting out.

"Mmm, Wanda!" They became more audible tones, signaling that you were close. There was too much to process, but Wanda decided to quiet her thoughts and allow herself to be delighted by the wonderful sounds you were making.

Hearing you cum for the first time was the most beautiful of all, by far.

A scream of pleasure too desperate, even animalistic, for your own good. Your so innocent set could not withstand that longing finally reaching its highest exponent, after so much stagnation. She was even surprised your little lungs allowed you to scream like that.

Wanda provoked all that in you, without having touched you... yet. But she made up her mind that it would change.

"Start over, but don't you dare cum," she commanded you. "I'm coming over in ten," she established, before hanging out.

[neeeooon]

WHATS UP CHAT 🔥🔥🔥🔥

I have spawned in w/ a bllk request, you can ignore it if u don’t have time or energy— Can we get bllkers w/ an s/o who plays handball as a goalie, but decides to play goalie for them to help practice their shooting skills in soccer? If that makes sense 🧍‍♀️ (bonus points if reader is injury prone)

yessss WASSUP 🔥🔥🔥 (sorry this took so long) TY FOR THE REQUEST 🤍

when you play goalie for them

bf bllk x gn!goalie reader. yn is injury prone

isagi yoichi

-> isagi was actually really scared to ask you to practice with him. he knew you used to play with your siblings and that you weren’t necessarily a fan, but he really wanted to practice his shooting

-> “are you free to help me shoot some? you don’t have to! i just need a goalie..” you aren’t very excited by his request, but you know how much this means to him. so, you smile and say, “screw it! let’s play.”

-> though you’re clumsy and injury-prone, you’re used to powering through. isagi is not. the first block has you on the ground, and when you stand, he sees your scraped up knees and panics. “y/n! shit, i forgot knee pads!”

-> “don’t need ‘em,” you shrug him off. “now, we gonna play or not? cause right now it’s 1-0 in my favor.”

kunigami rensuke

-> “okay, i’m gonna shoot now!” “you don’t have to tell me every time you take a shot, kunigami!”

-> he still did it anyway, knowing you’re injury-prone. he’d feel so awful if you got hurt doing something he asked

-> however, while you did get hurt, it was entirely your fault. he kicked a ball that was technically out, but you weren’t paying attention and jumped for it… slamming headfirst into the top of the metal goal

-> you dropped like a bag of flour, heads cradling your scalp as your boyfriend ran over. “y/n! i’m not laughing at you, i promise.” “you are >:(“ “how is that even possible, babe?”

niko ikki

-> “um, y/n?” you rolled over to face your boyfriend, who was sitting awkwardly in your desk chair. “yeah, niko?” “would you be willing to play goalie for me..? so i can practice my shots?”

-> you lit up. “you want me to help you?” “if you don’t mind..—“ “say less!!”

-> he should have know better. you should have know better. but the first shot niko took toward the goal, you dove forward and blocked it with your face :)

-> “ow.” “y/n!!! oh no, you’re bleeding!” you ended practice early that day

bachira meguru

-> you used to play goalie for your little brothers, who loved soccer growing up. they weren’t as dedicated as bachira, but you had enough experience with their shots to not be completely useless in the goal

-> you were actually doing pretty good the first dozen shots or so. he made most, but you were able to block quite a bit!

-> and then he tried a new dribbling technique to trick you, and boy did you fall for it

-> your feet followed his, and when he spun to take the shot, you got tangled up and went down hard, twisting your ankle in the process. “ow!” you cried, freaking bachira out. “y/n! wait, how?” “don’t laugh, you little ankle demon!”

nagi seishiro

-> “reo’s out of town with his family for business, and he left me strict instructions to keep you practicing!” nagi is not impressed. of course his best friend would recruit his partner to bother him even while he’s in another country

-> you have to drag your boyfriend out of his dorm, but once you tell him that you’ll be playing with him, he comes a bit easier

-> it was easy blocking for nagi at first because he wasn’t putting any effort behind his shots. they rolled to you, some stopping completely before reaching the goal

-> you propped your hands on your hips and raised a brow at him. “that’s the best you can do? come on, you big baby—!” a shot flew by your head, and you instinctively threw a hand up to smack it away. you felt your wrist twist under impact and clutched it to your chest. “okay.. you win.”

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE | Sebastian Vettel

High School History Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is stressed because his students did pretty bad in their latest History exam, but he gets more stressed and grumpy when Y/N, the cutest Primary School teacher according to Seb, arrives to the teacher's lounge to "annoy" him, but the truth is that there's more than that ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE THE OTHER DAY!

WORD COUNT: 3099

WARNINGS: LOTS OF GRUMPY (Seb) X SUNSHINE (Reader), some bad words, cursing, nothing else but wait till the end because I assure you you're gonna love it!

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @vampsarereal @gracie23x @cutelittlefakejourneys @scopeiguess @hoziersfrancesca

VEE'S NOTES: I ABSOLUTELY adored writing this, and I hope you like it as much as I do! This goes all the way up to the top of my fave fics written by me. Also, a toast to you because you liked all this Teacher!Seb thing a lot 🥹 I'd love to read your opinions on this, so feel free to leave me a comment, an anon message or reblogging since it helps us creators a lot. Thank you so much for reading, and hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

You shrugged, offering no further explanation. Instead, you grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it until it was next to Sebastian. To his utter surprise, you sat down beside him, placing your absurdly thick stack of papers on top of the ungraded exams.

If you didn’t leave in the next few seconds, Seb swore he'd have a heart attack.

“My kids need all of this, Seb,” you said again, showing him those ridiculous drawings once more. “They’re learning about pollination, and what better way than by coloring little bees and then putting them all over the classroom to represent how they work?”

“I’m currently questioning whether I’m a complete failure as a teacher so, to be completely honest with you, the last thing I need right now is you showing me this... nonsense.”

You scoffed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He was just too stressed. His students failing with embarrassingly low grades didn’t mean his skills as a teacher were declining, but it did mean he’d have an army of parents breathing down his neck, demanding explanations for why their children’s performance was so poor.

“Stop saying things like that!” You smacked his shoulder, and his patience wore even thinner when he noticed a red pen mark on the exam he was grading. One that, knowing all too well his students and their thoughts, they’d probably say looked like a penis.

“You’re not a failure. Teenagers are just… idiots.”

“Is that your opinion as a professional in the education field?2

“Of course!” you shouted, waving your hands dramatically. “Why do you think I teach Primary school? Little kids are way cuter, and they think I’m a genius just because I can spell difficult words without getting any help.”

Seb tried not to, but a small smile started creeping onto his face. He quickly bit his lower lip and shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure even though sitting next to you made him more nervous and, especially, more entertained, than he would have liked to admit.

“Look at you! I made you smile!”

“If I admit that you're almost funny, will you leave me alone?”

“Let me think about it… No.”

Sebastian didn’t even get a chance to answer before you suddenly jumped out of your chair and rushed toward the printer again.

“I just remembered why I came here! Oh my god, why do I have to be sooooooo forgetful?”

“I suppose that’s to make my life more miserable,” the German replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s just a bonus, Seb,” you turned to him, still smiling. “So, yeah, this printer isn’t working because… Well, I don’t know why. But I really need to make these copies, so I guess I’ll have to go back to the Primary school teachers' lounge…”

Sebastian stared at you, unsure of what to say.

Was he misunderstanding things because of stress, or he understood that you had actually walked all the way to the High School section, which was not anywhere near the Primary one, just to make copies, despite having a perfectly good printer in your own area?

“Did you come all the way from the Primary section to the High School one just for… some photocopies?”

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

“You're perfectly aware that there's a much better printer over there, right?”

“Well, that’s debatable if you consider…”

“Y/N, cut the bullshit.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to tell him that your free period, and your desire to see him, was the real reason you had come all this way, even if it had earned you a few questioning looks and whispered comments from some of your colleagues in the upper grades.

“Well… Maybe I also decided to come here to see you,” you admitted.

Vettel had no idea how to reply to that. He tried to think of something friendly and lighthearted, but his stress seemed to take over before he could filter his words.

“I'm this close to kicking you out, Y/N.”

You only laughed, placing a dramatic hand over your chest and letting out a fake gasp. Seb loved when you acted like this, but right now, he hated it more than ever.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t dare. I’m your favorite person out of all the people in this school.”

“Funny, because right now you happen to be exactly the opposite,” he muttered.

“You didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t.”

Seb shook his head and buried himself back in grading exams. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. No one was perfect, but somehow, you came pretty damn close without even trying.

“Stop making that weird face, or you’re going to get wrinkles ahead of time,” you teased. By now, you had sat back down beside him and were carefully cutting out flower-shaped drawings with impressive precision.

“You are insufferable, Y/N, really,” Vettel shot back as he meticulously corrected a student's answer about the causes of World War II.

“And yet, you still haven’t told me to shut up.”

Seb frowned. He wanted to do it. He should do it. But he couldn’t. You were too kind to him for him to snap at you… just like what was happening now.

He cursed himself mentally and swore that, from now on, he would grade exams at home to avoid this kind of altercation. Though, deep down, he also knew he would do it because, maybe, it would give him a little more time to spend with you.

Suddenly, you moved closer to him, too close, and took his chin. Your eyes locked, and for a few seconds, neither of you could say anything, let alone voice everything running through your minds about each other.

“You need a break, Seb.”

Your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, caressing it with a kind of affection that neither of you expected. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but his heart only pounded faster and faster, and he couldn’t see it as anything other than a betrayal of his feelings for you.

“Why do you always have to be a threat to me, Y/N?”

You simply smiled before leaving a kiss on his cheek and standing up.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but you know you love it,” you said, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, though not before turning back to him.

Sebastian knew exactly what you meant by doing that. He let out a deep sigh and carefully gathered all the exams, placing them in his briefcase along with his pencil case and phone.

“If I go with you wherever you’re going, do you promise to shut up?”

“Nop, there’s no way I’m doing that,” you replied cheerfully, taking his arm the moment he was beside you and dragging him out of the teachers’ lounge with no real destination in mind.

The German was beyond exhausted. He felt his head throbbing more than usual, which he knew was a sign of an oncoming migraine. He felt drained, frustrated, and more plagued by imposter syndrome than ever. It wasn’t the first time he’d had bad results on an exam, but it was the first time they had been this awful.

He decided not to dwell on it and did his best to push his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing instead on the woman beside him.

You couldn’t stop talking. First, you told him about how your kids, as you called your second-grade students, had made Christmas cards for you and even brought you a gift after the holidays. Then, you talked about how, today, your favorite student (because, according to you, yes, teachers had favorites) had dropped a piece of her sandwich on the floor, and you had to give her your own breakfast but it was worth it since she was more than happy to be having Ms. Y/L/N handmade cheesecake.

Now, you had launched into an explanation of the biodiversity project you were preparing for your students, focusing specifically on the importance of bees in the ecosystem. You even showed him some pictures of what you had been working on at home because you wanted it to turn out so well that you couldn’t just work on it during school hours.

“So…” you said after finishing your explanation. “What do you think about my project so far?”

Sebastian kept walking, trying to process the flood of information you had just given him in such a short time. While some of the pictures looked like pure chaos, something completely opposite to him, the embodiment of perfection, he had to admit that it was good. Really good, actually.

“Well… it looked fun,” he admitted.

“Are you serious!?” you squealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

He gave you a shy smile.

“Yes, of course, I mean it.”

“Oh, look at him! Grumpy Seb handing out compliments so easily!” you shouted again, now bouncing on your feet, earning a few disapproving looks from the teachers passing by. “This calls for me to get you a coffee!”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like having coffee. I already had one this morning, and I don’t think it’s the best idea, considering how nervous I—”

“That’s nonsense!” you interrupted, marching toward the Primary school section. “You’re going to have coffee with me, no matter what, and you’re going to thank me because I’m convinced my coffee is way better than that vending machine garbage you drink daily.”

“I’ll thank you the day not a single one of my students fails one of my exams,” he told you.

The Primary school teachers' lounge was empty when you both walked in. You didn’t say much, just offered Seb a seat and told him to make himself at home while you headed to your locker. The German pulled out the stack of exams once again, ready to continue grading them, if you didn’t annoy him again. As he kept marking the papers, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Not only were you making him a cup of coffee, but you also seemed to be decorating it. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, you were writing something on a piece of paper.

When you returned, you placed the mug in front of him. It had “Bee positive” written on it, and it was decorated, of course, with a little bee making a heart with its tiny hands. As if that wasn’t enough, you had somehow managed to create an impressive amount of cream, topped with a smiley face that looked like it had been made with cinnamon.

Then, as you took a seat beside him, you slid a note his way, the one he assumed you had been writing earlier.

“Even if you’re having a gray day, remember that you can always make the sun shine! Sincerely, your very own little Miss Sunshine,” followed by a heart and, unsurprisingly, a bunch of smiley faces.

He didn’t know what to say. His eyes, however, when they met yours, seemed to say everything.

“You know, maybe all you need is just a new approach.”

Your sudden change of topic, spoken as you took another bite of your chocolate cupcake, threw him off a little. But he preferred it over the uncomfortable silence you both knew was bound to settle in.

“I’ve already tried, Y/N.”

“Have you tried bribing them?”

Seb narrowed his eyes, impressed and clearly not convinced by what you had just suggested.

“I’m not going to bribe my students, Y/N.”

“Not even by making them work in teams and offering extra credit?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “Have you considered bringing cookies and handing them out? That works incredibly great as a positive reinforcement, trust me”

“I’m not giving my students cookies or anything else,” Seb stated firmly. “I don’t know what to do with them, and that’s what worries me the most. What if I start acting like, no offense, a Primary school teacher, when they’re only two years away from university?”

You shook your head. It annoyed you that Sebastian was so… rigid, so unwilling to change. But what annoyed you even more was that you couldn’t seem to find the right way to help him.

“If you help me with the biodiversity project and actively participate in it, I promise I’ll find a way to make sure all your kids pass the remaining exams this year,” you proposed.

“And what exactly does a primary school teacher know about teenagers and History?”

“First of all, stop being so grumpy with me… I’m just trying to help you!” You huffed, crossing your arms. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and honestly, neither were you. Sebastian straightened in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Second, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not sharing them until you agree with helping me with the project.”

“Y/N…”

“What is it? What you don’t like: bees, seven-year-olds, or me?"

“I don’t like bees that much, I love being around little kids, and I’m completely captivated by you.”

That was what Sebastian wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent, absentmindedly playing with the coffee spoon while staring at the note you had written for him.

“You do realize how many exams I still have to grade, right?” was all he managed to reply.

“Seb, you need to relax. I’ve told you before, but I’ll keep saying it as many times as necessary until you actually listen to me.”

“I can’t relax,” Vettel muttered, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to read that…?”

You didn’t let him time to finish speaking. You approached him faster than you’d planned, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. At first, Seb was completely caught off guard, but then he placed his right hand on your neck, pulling you closer and making sure the contact between you didn’t break.

Sebastian wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner, while you were more than happy to finally have the courage to take the initiative, especially since it seemed like your work crush was responding with a lot of enthusiasm.

The lack of air forced you to pull away. You readjusted yourself in your seat and couldn’t help but laugh when you saw your lipstick smeared all over Seb’s mouth.

“Did you just…?” Seb tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again,” you kissed him once again, but this time it was shorter. “Sebastian Vettel, I need you to stop worrying about those fucking exams and take a break.”

Now, Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling, and that’s exactly when you knew you had won that battle.

“You’re so lucky you’re too cute and beautiful and you’re keeping me at my feet somehow, because I swear I wouldn’t stop talking and be annoying just for you to shut me up by kissing me.”

Your eyes lit up at his tease, and your mouth opened in surprise at what Seb had just confessed.

“Sorry, did you just call me cute and beautiful, and also say you want me to shut you up by kissing you?” you pressed him.

Seb didn’t know what to say. His cheeks started to turn red out of embarrassment.

“If I’d known this was going to happen between us, I should’ve asked you to work together waaaay sooner!” you shouted, jumping up in excitement and sitting on his lap. If he hadn’t grabbed you tightly around the waist and balanced the chair, you would’ve ended up on the floor. “Say it again, come on!”

“No way I’m repeating that, Y/N.”

“Please, Seb,” you pouted, then kissed him all over his face. “Just one more time, please…”

“No.”

“Please…”

“Y/N…”

“Seeeeeeebastian.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Seb started, “but, somehow, you’re also my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

You smiled brightly at his words, but you knew this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

“I’m not your Little Miss Sunshine yet. At least, not officially,” you teased.

“Oh, really?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll be when you finally have the courage to ask me on a date,” you replied cheerfully, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him once more. “I’ve taken the first step and kissed you not once, but twice, so now it’s your turn. We’ve got to work as a team, Seb. Haven’t you learned that all these years working as a teacher?”

[seaborgium-dazies]

the cut that always bleeds

how mha characters' unrequited feelings would manifest and how they would cope with them

gn!reader, angst, unrequited feelings because they convinced themselves you don't like them

🌊: deku, bakugo, shoto, iida, denki

pt.2

deku:

His pain manifests as a pit in his chest that routinely gets bigger and heavier. He cannot look at you without feeling this pain dragging him down. And yet he wouldn't even try to deal with it. He already convinced himself that you would never, in a million years, like him back so he tries to ignore his bleeding heart. Using forced smiles and fake positivity as a crutch; anything to keep his guard up. Still he cries at night :(. He listens to sad love songs for hours and gets up the next morning with the same fake smile as the day before :(.

bakugo:

His unrequited feelings for you ignite a neverending fire in his chest. Whenever, wherever, he feels this intense anger in his chest. His method of dealing is distance. As soon as he sees you he's super pissed and even though he takes every chance to openly and safely fight you (sparring, tournaments etc) it's never enough to completely alleviate his burning pain. When you actually start fighting or even when you have small disagreements in class his anger bubbles over and due to his sharp tongue he ends up saying harsh things that he regrets. So he figured that avoiding you as best as he could was the way to go.

Shoto:

He's pretty unaware of his feelings and his pain manifests on the low. He's not really outspoken about his feelings so no one helps him connect the dots on why he's feeling so down. His unrequited feelings just drape his day to day life in a soft blue hue. Everything seems a little more hopeless and useless than before. He notices one thing though. Whenever he sees you his feelings of sadness get more intense. He figures that it's because he just cannot understand you. He observes you a lot and just cannot wrap his head around how someone can be so beautiful, so cheerful and so upbeat in such a shit world.

iida:

The pain presents as a constant feeling of being on edge. And in response he tries to rationalise. He pushes his annoyance to the side and acknowledges that he just feels on edge because of the rise in anti hero sentiments lately and he's just feeling a bit under the weather and he just hasn't been sleeping well lately and his schedule is overwhelming and and and. Once the though of him liking you comes up he tries to rationalise that too. He doesn't really like you it's just the hormones. And even so you guys could never work out because his upbringing was so different from yours / your personalities are so different / you have different visions of the future / etc.

denki:

Denkis pain manifests as amplified insecurities and he tries to joke his way out of it. He cracks self deprecating jokes from dawn till dusk and from dusk till dawn. He is constantly the butt of the joke and he cannot stop himself from making 'you'd never go for such an ugly worthless guy like me. You deserve someone better' type comments. He routinely calls himself stupid, ugly, worthless and whatnot and whenever you correct him he cringes deeply because he realizes what type of position he put you in.

©️ seaborgium-dazies 2025

[meadowfics]

movie setting

thanos x f!exactress!reader

you run into your ex boyfriend during the squid games

warnings: death (not thanos, its his bestie instead sorry), some changes in the original plot, angst, reader is a blacklisted actress, one use of "bro" towards reader, even though reader is intended to be female.

you were once one of the most promising actresses in korea, starring in a hit drama that still lingers in people's hearts.

your career was supposed to skyrocket, but a scandal ruined everything.

the scandal wasn’t even your fault. the media twisted the story, painting you as the villain.

companies cut ties, contracts were ripped apart, and soon, you found yourself blacklisted from the industry.

millions of won in debt piled up before you could recover.

with no way to earn money, since you did not need to go to college because of your acting career..your world crumbled around you.

to make things worse, you and your longtime boyfriend, thanos, broke up right before everything went to hell.

you loved him.

maybe you still do.

however, you couldn’t drag him down with you, not when his rap career was still holding on by a thread.

he wanted to fight for you, but you wouldn’t let him.

“i’m not going to be the reason you sink too.”

after that, you disappeared from his life.

thano's drug addiction got worse when you left, but that is something that you did not know about until later.

just three months after suffering, you sat at the subway station after missing the last train of the night.

someone finds you..

the salesman.

he offers you the game. an escape. a chance at redemption.

you hesitate, but when you see the money, you know you don’t have a choice.

that’s how you end up on the colorful, dystopian stairs, walking toward your first game just five days later...

you don’t see thanos first. he sees you.

his breath catches when he spots you a few steps below, dressed in the same green tracksuit, looking just as lost and desperate as the rest.

he almost doesn’t believe it.

his ex, the woman he once held at night, the woman he let go of but never truly moved on from, is here.

“no fucking way,” he mutters under his breath, eyes burning into your back.

you feel it...

the weight of someone staring

when you finally turn, your stomach drops.

thanos.

your ex-boyfriend, the man you broke your own heart over, is right there running up the stairs towards you.

for a second, you do not move, holding up the line.

when he comes closer, you turn away, gripping the railing tightly as you climb the stairs faster.

he’s not stupid. he knows you’re avoiding him.

outside on the field..people notice you.

“wait… is that—?”

“holy shit, it’s her! from (drama series)!”

players start murmuring, pointing, whispering excitedly.

some of them grew up watching you on tv, still nostalgic over your most famous role.

“i can’t believe it! i had the biggest crush on her when i was younger!”

you try to ignore the attention, but it’s hard when people are outright gawking at you.

some are obsessed, borderline unsettling.

“you’re even prettier in person…”

you feel their stares, their fascination.

it makes your skin crawl.

thanos notices too.

his jaw clenches as people circle around you like vultures, bombarding you with questions.

usually, this is outside of his personality quirks.

however, he does not like people messing with his girl.

“so, is the scandal real?”

“did you really do it?”

you keep your head down.

you don’t owe them an answer.

thanos watches, expression unreadable as he stands next to namgyu.

he doesn’t step in. not yet.

when the first gunshot goes off, everything changes.

you’re frozen in place, watching blood splatter as bodies drop like flies.

people scream, run, beg for help, but it’s useless.

panic surges inside you, but you force yourself to keep it together.

“green light.”

you move.

you don’t think, don’t breathe,

just follow the rules and survive.

somewhere behind you, thanos does the same.

he sees you up ahead, your body tense, hands trembling at your sides.

he wants to call your name. tell you to focus.

he doesn’t.

he keeps jumping around like a joke..

its the drugs.

he kind of has a feeling that you will be fine.

thanos watches you as he jumps around in joy, pushing people down as if their lives wouldn't be taken too.

“red light.”

after surviving the massacre, you’re still shaken.

everyone is.

you sit in a corner of the room, trying to calm your breathing, when a shadow falls over you.

you don’t need to look up to know who it is.

“señorita,” thanos says, voice lower than you remember.

“you’re really here.”

you keep your eyes on the ground.

“leave me alone.”

he scoffs.

“yeah? and how’s that been working out for you?”

you don’t answer.

“you should’ve told me,”

he mutters after a beat.

“it’s not like that,” you whisper.

he tilts his head.

“really? really bro? ‘cause it sure seems like you wanna be near me again.”

he’s smug. a little too smug.

his ego inflates when you don’t deny it.

you glare at him.

“i’d rather be near you than anyone else in this fucking place, su-bong.”

thano's smirk fades slightly.

nam gyu watches the whole thing unfold.

he sees the way you and thanos look at each other..

the tension, the unfinished business.

it makes him sick.

“you two have history,” nam gyu states one night, arms crossed.

you shrug.

“so?”

“so,” he huffs,

“it’s fucking annoying.”

you raise a brow.

“why do you care?”

he doesn’t answer.

thanos, overhearing, just smirks.

“someone jealous?”

nam gyu scowls.

“shut up.”

despite your best efforts, you start gravitating toward your ex again.

you tell yourself it’s survival.

safety.

being where you are most familiar with..

deep down, you know it’s more than that.

every time you look at him, you remember what it felt like to love him.

you also remember why you left.

he notices the way you linger near him, even if you don’t say much.

“you’re not good at pretending for an actress señorita,” he says one night.

you glance at him.

“pretending what?”

“that you don’t want me back.”

your throat tightens.

you shake your head.

“it’s not like that.”

“sure,” he mutters. but he doesn’t look convinced.

the games are brutal. relentless.

you don’t know if you’ll make it out alive.

one thing is clear:

no matter how much you try to fight it, thanos is a part of you.

and in a place like this, maybe he’s the only thing keeping you sane.

when all of the men went to the bathroom, the dorms were eerily quiet. until the sound of chaos started coming from outside the doors. sounds of metal banding, fists colliding with flesh, grunts of pain, bodies slamming against the walls.

it was impossible to ignore. every player still in the dorm room heard it, heads turning toward the source of the violence, but no one dared to move.

you sat on your bed, your hands clenched into fists against your lap. your whole body was tense, your mind racing.

thanos was in there. so was nam-gyu. you didn’t know what the fights were about, but you knew it wasn’t good.

honestly, you would not have been surprised if your out-of-pocket ex started it all with his bestfriend.

se-mi sat beside you, watching the entrance anxiously. the minutes stretched on like hours, and with every second that passed, the pit in your stomach grew deeper.

one by one, men began filtering back into the dorms, beaten and bloodied. some limped, some had swollen faces, and some had fresh bruises forming under their eyes.

you scanned every face, searching for him.

no thanos.

you exhaled sharply, fingers tightening around the fabric of your pants. se-mi shifted beside you, glancing over with hesitation before asking,

"do you still love thanos?"

the question caught you off guard. your head snapped toward her, eyes wide in panic.

"do i love thanos?" you repeated, almost scoffing. then, without thinking, you blurted out, "no shit, se-mi!"

se-mi flinched at your sharp tone, and the realization hit you instantly. your expression softened as guilt settled in your chest.

"i'm sorry," you muttered, shaking your head.

"that was mean, you're one of my friends here and I shouldn't have spoken to you that way. I'm just stressed."

se-mi shrugged, offering a small, dismissive smile.

"it's fine." she glanced toward the entrance again before sighing.

"i wouldn’t care if something happened to nam-gyu though."

you huffed a quiet, amused breath.

despite the tension, you silently agreed.

then, finally, movement at the entrance.

your breath caught when you saw him...thanos, limping back into the dorms, looking bruised but very much alive.

"su-bong," you breathed, already on your feet before you could process it.

you didn’t care who was watching. didn’t care about the whispers, the eyes on you.

you ran straight to him, wrapping your arms tightly around his body, holding onto him like he might disappear if you let go.

the rapper's arms came around you just as fast, his grip firm, as if reassuring himself that you were real.

somewhere in the distance, you heard someone murmur, "that actress and the rapper are dating?" but it didn’t matter.

you buried your face against his shoulder, inhaling his scent, letting yourself feel the relief washing over you.

he is okay.

thanos pulled back slightly, just enough to press a lingering, warm kiss to your forehead.

you closed your eyes, savoring it.

"see," he mumbled against your forehead, his voice teasing but laced with something deeper, something more tender.

"i know you wanted me back, baby."

you giggled, shaking your head.

"shut up and go sit down."

you slipped an arm under his to help him walk back to the beds, your focus entirely on him...so much so that you didn’t process the absence of a certain someone.

not until the speakers crackled to life, and the robotic voice echoed through the dorms:

"player 124, eliminated."

silence fell over the room.

your body stiffened.

nam-gyu never came back with thanos.

masterlist

[bettysupremacy]

hi love ! could you write a fluff!rafe where the reader is a workaholic and ends up getting a cold and rafe takes care of her? 💌🍄

my boyfriend!!!!!!!

“I need to go in today.”

You gaze at Rafe, who returns your stare. It feels futile, yet you persist. You try to sit up, pulling the covers off your legs, but retreat under them when the overhead fan reaches. A dull ache permeates your body. The cold seeps into you, but the blanket is suffocating. Your body feels warm, but the air is biting.

You concede. “Nevermind.”

“Yeah.” Rafe moves to help you gently, he’s fixing the blanket.

“It’s fine.”

“Seriously,” Rafe warns suddenly. “I’m gonna make you cut your shifts down.”

“But-“

“No, this is a ‘I want to pass the time’ job, and you’re treating it like you’re employee of the month.” He’s annoyed, with you surely. “Shit, are you employee of the month?”

You frown, ignoring his question. He’s right. Though, he usually is. He already provides for you through the big money of the company his father passed down, you just don’t wanna be bored. You don’t want to contribute nothing, and you’re treating it like there’s rent to pay and mouths to feed. Well, there is, but not in the demand you

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he huffs. “I just can’t stand seeing you like this.”

“I know.”

He helps you sit, moving the pillows behind you. Your chest feels fuzzy and so do your eyes. Dully, your nausea makes you cough.

“I’m nauseous.” You tell him.

“Jeez.” He murmurs, his eyes round and concerned. “You want zofran?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

Tears pool in your eyes as he sits up, collecting at your eyelashes as you try to blink them away. You bring your hand to swipe at them, sniffling. Rafe’s brain lags.

“What?” He asks, kneeling down again, hands in desperate search of your face. “Baby, what?”

“I’m embarrassed.” You cry.

“Why?” His rough hands swipe at your tears gently. “Everyone gets sick.”

You turn away from him,

“If this is about me being upset earlier, I swear it wasn’t at you.” He stresses. “I-I had a bad day, and seeing you’ve succumbed to illness makes me sad.”

You giggle wetly. “Succumbed to illness.”

He beams proudly. “I knew that would get a laugh.”

You smile up at him, fever working through your veins slowly. You shake again miserably, working yourself up into a fit of fat tears. They roll down the hills of your cheek heavily, pooling under your chin. You blink out three at once and Rafe nearly has a conniption. Why are you crying?

“It’s not.”

He works his hand over your hair, gently, but not cautiously. “Then what?” He pleads. “Help me understand.”

“I just love you.”

“You’re crying because you love me?”

“I don’t feel good.” You correct.

“You don’t feel good?”

“And I love you,” You admit. “but you’re here,” You moan. “seeing me like this, and you’re so pretty.”

He laughs, quickly recovering to a sympathetic face when you frown at him.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” He soothes, lips near your ear. “Sometimes I look at you and I want to cry.”

“But you never do.” You wallow.

“Have you ever seen me cry?”

“Once.”

“Forget that.” He grimaces. “The point is, you’re stressed and sick.”

“I don’t see the point.” You murmur.

“You’re vulnerable right now, to your.. feelings. If I were sick, and stressed, and I saw you, I think I might cry too.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Did the people cry when the angels came down in the Bible?”

“Did the angels.. come down?” You ask. “I’ve never read it.”

“I’m not sure.”

You laugh. “Maybe we should ask Scar.”

“Scar?”

“She’s smart.”

“I think she’s Jewish.”

“So?”

“Different book, my love.”

“Duh, I’m not that sick.” You laugh. It drips with sticky sticky cough syrup. “But still, she’s smart, maybe she’ll know.”

Rafe sighs lovingly. “Maybe. We got off track.”

“We always do.”

Rafe snorts. “You’re feeling better.”

“Get on track.”

“I don’t remember the point I was making with angels.”

You laugh, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re useless.”

“Abominable girl.” He chastises, sitting up anyways.

“Go get me medicine.” You’re smiling. “Useless, useless doctor.”

[cybsoo2]

nightmare

╰┈➤ synopsis — After being kidnapped by two men who say they’re obsessed with you, your new reality has become your worst nightmare. But you should’ve known that your mind is capable of conjuring up much more menacing monsters; dreams so disturbing that they leave you seeking comfort from the two people you hate the most.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!tyunning x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 2.4k

╰┈➤ content warning — yandere behavior, implied/referenced stalking, implied/referenced kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, crying, nightmares, dreams of an assault (didn't happen), angst, hurt/comfort

Every day must come to an end. That little bit of happiness you have flickers out like the lightbulb up above. 

Hyuka is off in the other room, not willingly of course, but because Taehyun had asked him to check over the bedroom. Locking the doors and bolting the windows is all a part of the routine. Everyday at dawn and dusk, Taehyun’s paranoia is like a little pest in his head. Whispering scenarios of all the terrible things that could happen if you aren’t tucked safety away in this house and in their arms. 

You think it’s possessive how he controls your life and keeps you contained– like a little plaything that no one else gets to touch. But Taehyun thinks otherwise, all too aware of how much worse it could really be. He calls it security, keeping you under lock and key. Healthy and ‘happy’ without witnessing the horrors of the rest of the world. 

When Kai comes back from double checking all the doors and windows, he’s drawn back to you like a magnet. Forever stuck by your side is where he wants to be. His grip is like a python as he drags you under the silk sheets. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight to his chest like he does every other night. His touch is like poison as it pumps through your blood. You’re sick of feeling caged up like his pretty little pet. You try to shift away from him, desperate for a bit of space, but it’s useless.

Kai ignores your efforts and kisses along your shoulder. Trying to soothe you to sleep because he knows how much you hate it. Not only do you need to get a full night’s rest, but you need to accept that instead of fighting with him, you should give in to the comfort he’s trying to offer.

The devil dances in your dreams, tormenting you in the only place they can’t protect you. Just thinking about the fact makes Kai’s heart squeeze. Sad at the thought that he’s unable to take all your worries away. But that doesn’t mean he can’t at least try. So he holds you in his warm embrace whether you want it or not. Humming a little lullaby that sends vibrations through your body. 

You can hear the distant sounds of Taehyun in the dark, shutting off the lights and laying down beside you. He pulls the covers up to your chin, keeping your warmth stuck under the sheets. 

Bundled up in the blankets and being sung to sleep, you’re starting to succumb to the night. Sleep starts taking over your bones and breaking down your resolve. And after resisting the urge for far too long, you become a slave to your somnia.

Your dreams are worse than reality. Warped and wicked, they’re full of your worst fears. Blurred visions tear into your brain. Visions of two men ripping you up and taking all the pieces for themselves. 

There’s blood everywhere. Staining your skin and spilling onto the floor. It’s warm and red and you find yourself wondering if it’s yours? You can’t even feel the pain anymore, numbed to nothing. Not even flinching as they betray your body. 

Your clothes are torn to shreds. Fragile flesh exposed for their eyes to wander. You curl in on yourself, trying to cover up all that you can. But no matter how hard you try to hide, these monsters still taunt you.

Phantom images of hands all over you. They graze over your skin then grip you tight; a touch that feels all too real. In your dazed dream, you use all your strength to try and swat away these hands. Breaking free from the feeling of fingers digging into your skin. They leave red marks, burning every inch that they touch. 

In the distance, there’s the sound of crying. You raise your hands to your ears, trying to stop the screeching sound. But when the noise still ceases to stop, you realize it’s coming from your own two lips. So many sounds overwhelm you. It’s everything at once– the screaming, the crying, and sounds of someone calling your name. You just wish it would all stop.

You’re torn from your dream by the two who hold you close. Shooting up from your sleep, you try to tear their hands away– a part of you still stuck in your nightmare. 

You’re trembling in terror with tears falling from your eyes. You turn in on yourself, hugging your stomach tight to soothe the sadness. Self-comfort is familiar. It’s all you’ve ever known in this life; shielding away from the shadows and hiding how you cry between your knees. It’s worked every other time, but now is not like the others. Darkness dances in the moonlight– like shadows, it smothers you. The nightwalker knocks on your chest. Hammering like your heartbeat, begging to be let into your bones. Fear festers under the skin, swimming in your tears and mixing with your blood. It consumes you until you can’t take it anymore.

Taehyun is the first to take in your state of panic. He sits right in front of you, hands on your shoulders and knees knocking against your own. He takes hold of your face, a warm hand holding each cheek. He makes a move to try and lift up your gaze, wondering what demons lay beyond your eyes. He’s never seen you so scared– not when the stalking started, not when their obsession began to grow, not even when they finally took you as their own. And as you stare up into his almond eyes, he suddenly finds himself unaware of what to do.  

You look up at the face of the man before you. A man that usually you couldn’t stand the sight of, but now, you find yourself betrayed by his beauty. Sympathy stains his pale skin like a porcelain doll. His painted expression a pure picture of pain and turmoil. This mask is much different then the one he’s used to wearing. No more stern eyes or apathy, because in this stolen moment, he’s someone he’s not pretending to be. 

It only takes a second before you’re falling into his embrace. Warm arms wrap around you. Cradling you close to his chest. Taehyun’s heart beats in tune to yours, pumping blood at a rapid pace. He thinks he can hear it echo out in the room with how loud it is. An unsteady beat that reverberates off his ribcage.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ll be okay.” His gentle tone meets your ears. Voice soaked in sympathy with that rough edge, still addled with the sleep he was so quickly awoken from. 

Kai watches the interaction from his side of the bed. Shivers run along his skin and a chill cradles him close. He can still feel the ghost of your warm embrace, but now all the heat has vanished and he’s left with the sight of your sadness. Despite still being tangled up in the sheets and sweating from the long-sleeve he wears, he couldn’t feel more frozen. Nothing but a cold body without your warmth. Kai can’t imagine himself without you wrapped around him. He’s a clay sculpture, every trait and every feature carved by your hand. You truly mold him into the man he is. And now that your tears are falling and that fire has burnt out, Kai is the emptiest he’s ever been.

He cuts the distance between you and crawls over to where you sit. Ever so carefully, he covers you with his weight. Draping his whole body over you until you’re hidden from all the eyes in the dark. No one else able to see you but the two lovesick boys by your side. 

Hyuka’s weight doesn’t feel heavy like in your dream, but instead it feels like a warm blanket wrapped around your shoulders. His arms wind around your waist, gently easing you into his embrace. He’s soft and slow, scared that if he rushes things too fast then you’ll react with fear. 

Kai does what he does best— cuddling up next to you and clinging to your form. Bodies melting into one another. Kai truly believes you three were molded for each other. He shifts to sink further into you, plush pink lips grazing the nape of your neck. As a sob racks through your body, he moves to kiss away your cries. Calming the raging sea inside of you and turning the tide into a still ocean. 

He kisses each of your moles like they’re stars on your skin. Connecting the dots like constellations. Drawing an imaginary line in the shape of a heart– one is all you need when you three are already so tangled up in each other. One beating heart shared between bodies– and when yours starts to bleed, they’ll always be able to feel the effects. Even for someone like Kai it’s hard to control his emotions. Can’t handle seeing you so hurt– and if you were paying any attention, then you’d notice the trail of tears that stains the back of your shirt. 

Your sobbing has toned down now to quiet sniffling– tears still flowing and sadness still afloat, but much less than before. The initial panic of the dream has drifted away. Where your thoughts were once like muddy water, clouded and easy to sink in, they’re now much more like a steady stream. Your throat doesn’t feel so sticky, the only words you could speak were weak pleas of ‘No, no, no’. Now, when the task of talking doesn’t feel so daunting, you’re able to answer their questions. 

“Was it the same one as always?” Kai asks, voice muffled from where he buries his face in the crook of your neck. 

You do the same as he does. Hiding your face away in Taehyun’s chest, speaking so silently it’s as if the words don’t even exist. You shake your head as you answer him, “It was different this time.” Your voice sounds shallow, mind brought back to the brutal memory. 

Taehyun wants to ask if it was the same faces. Faces of the two men who swore to heal your heart and protect your soul, now turnt to monsters of your imagination. He can’t handle the fact that you hate him in spite of his love for you, so he asks another question, “What made it so different this time?”

“It wasn’t real.” 

This revelation comes as a bit of a shock to the two boys. All your usual nightmares have just been memories that taunt you. Terrors of the waking world and flashbacks from the past, but never new things that are nothing but make-believe. 

“It was so much worse than what’s real.” You double-down on what you said, this time with much more clarity. No longer confused, but confident in your confession. Although that doesn’t make it any easier to admit. The fact that you fear your own mind more than the horrors that have already happened is something you struggle to accept. Hard to face your feelings and say that you feel so safe in their arms. 

The two men sit in silence with your words. Words that imply that rather seek silence in them then face your dreams all alone. That fact must mean that something has changed in you. That nightmare broke your last string of sanity and left you running to them for relief. And they’ll always be there for you to turn to. 

When your crying finally quiets down is when you realize the warmth in your chest. A fire set ablaze in that hollow space in your heart. Melting down your icy exterior and burning all your old emotions. No longer are you resisting their touch. Heavy hands that steady you. Pulling back the blankets and settling you back into bed. 

The faint feeling of Taehyuns breathe at the back of your neck. Barely his own because he leaves no more than a whisper between you. His hands trail up your sides, running up along your waist and resting in your hair. He pushes back the pieces that fall in front of your face, kissing your forehead as he does so. Your head now tucked under his chin. A firm hand at the back of your head keeps you from turning to see the shadows. There’s no need for you to fear them when he holds you so steady. This new feeling is far from the iron cage you’re used to. Now set free and falling into the embrace of a phoenix– wings wrapping around you as a certain warmth burns through your body. 

Even Kai’s timid touch doesn’t feel so constricting. Rather it feels oh so gentle. Hesitant hands hover over your body, he’s taking it slow ever since your admission (It’s not like you said ‘i love you’ but his heart still beats out of his chest. Thumping like a rabbit at the fact that you’re warming up to them).  

Like a lullaby Taehyun speaks softly, “Do you want to try and go back to sleep?” His low voice rumbles through your body.

Kai talks before you get the chance to, “What if she has the same dream again? You know how she can never fall asleep after a nightmare.” His next words are directed at you, “I don’t think I can stand to see you cry again.” Always the one to be persuaded by your tears.

“It’s okay,” You mumble through a yawn. “If it happens again then you’ll be here. Right?”

Taehyun pulls back a bit to look at you. Hearts shine in his eyes at the fact that you’re beginning to trust them, but he can’t help but be hurt that you’re still somewhat unsure of their downright devotion to you. “Of course, baby. How could you think we’d be anywhere else but right with you.”

“M’kay,” your speech is getting slurred, dragged down by exhaustion. Now that the quick rush of adrenaline has faded away and your tears have since stopped, you’re beginning to get sleepy. But before you decide to go back to sleep, you have one more request, “Will you sing for me?”

“Of course,” Kai agrees, voice already softening out into a mere whisper. He starts to hum while Taehyun sings. Their sonnet fills the room. Each note echoes in the air until it’s all that you can focus on. Taehyun’s honey-tone rings in your ears as warmth enters your once cold heart. 

“I want to be your nap so I can dream with you no matter when. As if nothing had happened. On a sunset evening, even in the night when the sky is dark. My heart is full of you.”

© cybsoo2 2025, all rights reserved

[deadsetobsessions]

Once more the hallucinations hit, and once more I am here writing it out.

My brain is fucking terrifying and I want out, so bad. This came to me in the form of a nightmare.

Also, please don’t take the timeline into consideration, because I have no idea what’s going on. Again, nightmares and dreams tend to not have the best coherency when it comes to plot and timelines. The reincarnation doesn’t have a name, I was too busy feeling terrified. Shit in parentheses was how I experienced the nightmare. Everything else is just me adding sprinkle sprinkle.

——

Ra’s al Ghul.

Talia al Ghul.

Two names that she had been aware of, in the peripherals of her hyper fixation. Two characters meant to enhance the story of the Dark Knight. Side characters, on a good day. Perhaps, a main antagonist on a better day.

On a bad day?

Main characters. Real, living people. Real, living, breathing assassins.

Unfortunately, they’re her new family. One she remembered coming into, bathed in a pool of blood and screams.

She was not a baby.

She is now, a baby. The first of Talia al Ghul’s children. The eldest, once Damian al Ghul was born.

Swaddled in emerald green and gold silks, she was presented to a man with silver streaked hair and a receding hairline. He too, was robed in green and golds.

“A daughter, Talia?” He rumbled, the smooth Arabic flowing out of his mouth failing to hide the acrid disappointment. The child, past the haze of confusion of suddenly being deported from her own adult body into one of a helpless child, felt a stirring of irritation. It’s good she learned the language, because now she knew exactly how Ra’s felt about her. The child grumbled a displeased sound. Not that she would have ignored the fact that her grandfather was Ra’s al Ghul. (He smelled like moth eaten fabric and blood- but I think that was because my cat accidentally scratched me.)

“My apologies, father.”

“Do not tell the young detective of this. Had it been a son, perhaps things would have been different. No, a daughter would only hinder him.”

Talia bowed, hands tightening on her daughter. “May I raise her, father?”

“A resource is still a resource. Go ahead, Talia.”

“Yes, father.” Talia took the dismissal and bowed before leaving.

On her way back to the room with the reincarnation’s crib, Talia al Ghul stroked her daughter’s head.

“I wish you were born a boy, my daughter. I am sorry my beloved will never know of you.”

The reincarnation looked at her new mother. She’s young, the woman-child realized. A teenager.

“You’ll have to be useful, my daughter. Your grandfather is not so kind as to keep the useless. I… do not wish for your death,” her mother muttered.

Great. She got new life and it’s already in danger.

——

She learned to swing a knife. Swords. She learned and devoured the teachings. She learned to be useful.

But then they asked her to take the life of a man who did her no wrong.

Her baby blues clashed with her grandfather’s Lazarus green.

She was still young. A child.

“No.”

“No?”

“He did no wrong.”

“He failed, granddaughter.” Ra’s smiled down at her, patronizing. Cruel. “Perhaps you possess your father’s heart, and you are foolishly sentimental, as women and children tend to be. But in the end, you are an al Ghul and you will obey. Plunge in your blade and I will reward you.”

The reincarnation looked at the man kneeling in front of her, resignation and a hint of pity in what little she could see of his face.

She’s already died before. What did she have to be afraid of?

“No.”

They tried to beat the weakness out of her. It didn’t work.

——

The reincarnation stared at the mirror, left alone in an opulent cage of gold and emeralds and precious stones that meant little to her now.

Her hands traced her back, small fingers finding purchase in soft skin. Her mouth opened fruitlessly, noise refusing to escape. She still felt the burning magic, the brand her own blood had carved into her skin and soul because she refused to kill. The chains her grandfather had shackled around her with magic and cruel amusement.

She had killed him, in the end. Obey, or be punished. Her body had moved without her permission, the reincarnation a prisoner in a body that refused to do as she commanded. The knife swung, a life taken, her hands dipped in red.

She learned a valuable lesson that day.

There were things worse than death.

“This is an order, granddaughter.”

The Magic had flared a searing heat at her neck, forcing her to kneel on broken legs. Ra’s loomed above, authority in his voice. She was bound to obey, regardless.

“You will never speak another word of affection, you will never speak another word to anyone unless I allow it. Perhaps this will teach you of your folly, and your place in this world.”

The loss of her freedom and the fear that came with it was a bitter and devastating lesson.

——

Ra’s al Ghul was so much worse than what little she knew of him.

She was right to be afraid for herself.

Her mother had worried, when she’d withdrawn and refused to speak to her. Even if she could, the reincarnation would not have wanted to. The reincarnation had felt furious, back then, when she thought of Talia. Her mother who refused to protect her. Her mother, who claimed she loved her but refused to see the chains Ra’s wrapped around her neck. She who plied the reincarnation with a supportive hand but forced her into the fighting pits.

But, as the reincarnation stumbled out on bruised and used legs from Ra’s al Ghul’s meeting chambers where he had allowed his business partners to partake in her, she realized that Ra’s was a monster in a human’s body and her mother was a victim of his making.

The lesson Ra’s taught her that day was that if she was not useful, if she did not kill, he would take what was left of her and make use of her.

Hate flared in her heart, and the beginning of Ra’s downfall began the day he let her go from the chambers alive. Injured, but alive. Injured and violated, but alive and furious.

——

She carved her hate and rage and helplessness and fear in the bodies of the people he bid her to kill. Her silenced screams were expressed in the way she splattered blood, the way she covered herself in it. A killing machine first, a stress reliever second, and a child… wasn’t on the list of things she was allowed to be.

His enemies were felled, one after another. He gave her his approval, something she detested.

But still, she continued, bodies racking upwards, tens turning to hundreds, hundreds edging into thousands.

The red in her ledger became ichor and guilt. Her language became violence and obedience.

“You have become a sharp tool, granddaughter.”

She was a genius, after all. And now, she could not disobey. A blade that Ra’s believed will never point towards him. She kneeled. She obeyed.

“Thank you, grandfather.” Her words were only allowed to come out- without searing, terrible pain- when she was thanking him. She tried not to do it as often as he wanted. He thought he broke her when he read the obedience she carved into her body language.

But she never bowed. Never. Not to him. Never.

——

“My weapon could learn much from your granddaughter,” David Cain sat across from Ra’s, wine in their stupid goblets. How she detested the green and blacks he’s seen fit to dress her with. She’s dressed provocatively, not of her own choice. She doesn’t have much of those- doesn’t have much in ways of choices- these days.

She was twelve, and Ra’s al Ghul deserved to die.

“Her combat is a higher form of what my daughter has achieved. How did you do it?”

When Ra’s began to reply, she slipped away.

She found the girl. She found… the cage- the black box- the child was placed in. The child flinched from her when she opened the metal box, fear only easing as the reincarnation kept her body language neutral and kind. (It was pitch black, and about the size of like, a closet. No light. Only from whatever door the box had.) (Cass’ hands hurt from banging on the walls to be let out)

David Cain’s daughter, her mind whispered, the memories of another life once more making itself known.

“Cassandra.” She whispered, regretting it immediately when pain wracked her body. She fell to her knees as the punishment for disobeying an order slammed into her.

The girl looked at her in concern, but did not move closer. The reincarnation stared at this girl and saw a reflection of herself.

David Cain would be here for a month. She will free Cassandra in those days.

——

The weapon stared at the girl in front of her, kneeling in pain.

She did not understand.

-

The girl came back. Water. Food. Kind.

The weapon felt warm. The girl was quiet. No sounds. Good. The weapon knew the girl understood. The weapon thinks that the girl is a weapon too.

-

The girl comes back, again. This time, she makes a sound. It hurt her, but she did it again. The weapon understands when the girl points at herself and repeats the sound. The sound means the girl. The girl expects something from the weapon.

The weapon makes the sound, flinching to see if the owner will come to punish it. The girl purposefully sits, relaxed but vigilant… and protective. Of the weapon?

The weapon relaxed. It repeated the sound, pointing at the girl.

The girl smiles, in pain. But approval. The weapon feels- the weapon is warm, like under the blanket. Approval.

The girl teaches her to make sounds but the weapon communicates without it. It does not like the sounds, does not need them, but the girl seems to think it’s important.

The weapon likes the girl, so the weapon learns. They still understand through no sounds, through reading each other.

-

The girl comes back, silently. Secretly. The weapon does not notify the owner. The weapon feels- does not want to.

The girl- the girl with the sound- she says a different sound. Her body tells the weapon that it’s important, this sound.

And when the girl points at herself and says her own sound, then points at the weapon and says that new sound again, the weapon begins to understand.

The girl had given the weapon her own sound.

“Cass—n- ra.”

“Cass,” the girl said, and Cassandra understood.

“Cass.” Cassandra pointed to herself.

-

The owner wanted- wanted Cassandra to end a life. Cassandra watched the owner kill and gesture to the dead thing.

Cassandra did not want to.

When Cassandra is placed back into the pitch black box, she waited for the girl.

The girl came.

“Don’t want.” Cassandra clung to her, reading the welcome and the sadness in the girl’s body. Cassandra tucked her face into the girl’s shoulder. She is cold. The girl is warm.

The girl hugged her back. The girl understood. Sadness hardened into lines of determination. Cassandra felt… light. Felt hope.

-

Cassandra slipped away from the place, water in her pack for the dessert and money to run from the country. The girl stayed behind, seeing her off. The girl tells her to never come back.

Cassandra did not want to leave the girl behind, but the girl could not go.

“Be free, Cass.” The girl had whispered through the pain. “For the both of us.”

——

Her grandfather knew. He allowed David Cain to break her, not kill because she was of use to him still, as a lesson. She found that she hated his lessons. But, she hated his attention more.

And still, she could not regret. How could she, when Cass trusted her with what fragile hope she had?

So, she lets him beat her, and provokes him with smirks and fearless eyes because the longer he’s focused on her, the more time Cass has to run.

Then, he gets too angry, and insults Ra’s, whose eyes grew cold. Her grandfather gestured and while she usually hated the command that followed that gesture, she could not feel that hatred now.

She got back up, legs broken and arms twisted once more, and attacked David Cain.

Ra’s would not follow Cass. Not when she was not his business to deal with, and not when David Carin’s fury amused him so.

David Cain would not follow Cass. Not while she still drew breath. The reincarnation stood, and threw herself at one of the best assassins of the century.

She tore his throat out with nothing but her teeth. She felt, for once, not like a monster. Not even when Ra’s nodded in approval and ordered for David Cain’s broken body to be cleaned up.

——

She’s been granted a mission in New Jersey, once her months of discipline- of torture- ended. She does not get ordered to find Cassandra. She’s fourteen now, and as silent as ever. Her mother had adjusted to her silence by then- long ago, actually, taking it as a quirk her daughter had developed. She hadn’t been a terribly vocal child, after all. Talia praised her for being useful even as a woman- the self degradation something the reincarnation had no doubt Ra’s had insidiously trained into Talia- and for being loyal to Ra’s.

Sometimes, she hates Talia for being- for-

Never mind. She couldn’t afford to hate anyone else.

She killed her targets early, determination and wistfulness urging her movements into sharp . Then, she made her way to Gotham and slipped into the city of darkness- where her father was.

She watched as he hid in the shadows almost as easily as she did. She watched as he flew and glided with the younger Robin. (He was younger than her by a year. She checked.) He was free. They were free.

She wished…

As she turned away, she saw a child tumbling from the edge of a roof. It was an instinct she’d thought Ra’s had managed to bury after the months he’d spent making sure she killed only children.

She hated him.

She caught him, swooping in and tucking him against her side as she plucked him from the air and plopped him back onto the crumbling roof of Gotham’s slums.

“Oh, thank you! So much- are you a vigilante?” The boy asked, looking at her masked face. It’s a good thing she wasn’t exactly dressed like a regular League operative.

She shook her head. Her eyes fell onto his camera, faint memories rising once more. She had an inkling-

“I’m- uh- Tim!” The boy introduced himself nervously, edging away from her silence. “Thank you for saving me…?”

She nodded. She pointed to the camera, tilting her head.

“Oh- you… want to see it?” He clutched his camera closer. Oh, he did have some sense of self preservation. She wondered why a seven year old was allowed to roam these streets… but she did worse at seven.

She held her hand up and back up. The boy hesitated, and then showed her the camera. “Uh- I took pictures of Robin and Batman!”

They sat on that roof for hours, and she let Tim Drake tell her stories about her father and his son. Ward. Son.

She could tell that Tim didn’t have anyone to listen to him.

She didn’t have long until she had to go back or risk severe punishment, but… she could make time for Tim, to listen to him.

She wondered if Cass managed to escape completely. She wondered if her sister all but in name and blood learned how to smile.

——

Tim had never had a friend before!

She listened to him! And gave him hugs the one time he was brave enough to ask! And she seemed to like Batman and Robin as much as he did! No one who didn’t like them would listen to his endless rambling otherwise, right? (Tim was super skinny, like ribs poking out skinny. He looked like a sickly Victorian child and he was kind of cold)

“And then, Robin went like this,” he pantomimed the awesome punch Dick Grayson did on a Joker goon. “And the guys got knocked out just like that!”

His new friend nodded, looking interested.

“Sorry, am I talking too much?” Tim asked anxiously. He didn’t want to make his friend hate him!

She shook her head, and gestured for him to continue.

“Are you sure?”

She nodded.

His new friend was so cool! She even taught him how to throw a punch and to fight!

——

When she had to leave, she prepared Tim for it.

“Do you have to go?”

She nodded and placed a hand on his head, ruffling his hair. Her other hand held a duffle bag with an assortment of weapons she carefully kept from him. (One of the blades still had guts on it, which, ew.)

“Try not to fall off anymore roofs, little photographer.” She said, smiling at his shocked look before leaping away.

“Wait, you can talk?!” He shouted at her back. She smiled a little wider.

——

“A son, this time.” Ra’s al Ghul’s voice echoed in his disgustingly flashy throne room. It rings of approval.

The reincarnation stood behind her mother, eyes cast downwards.

“Well done, Talia. I finally have a worthy heir.”

Damian al Ghul cooed.

The reincarnation was scared. But… she could not allow her younger brother to be trapped like she was. She’s fifteen now, a decade of slavery having worn her down and nearly broken her. But with her brother… no, she could not allow it.

She met her mother’s eyes and knew then that they agreed. Protect Damian, at all costs.

She ignored the sting of envy. So what her mother could not find it in herself to protect her daughter? So long as she protected Damian, it didn’t matter.

Maybe she didn’t matter. Maybe she wasn’t worth anything. Maybe- maybe- maybe.

She also ignored the seed of disgust she had for mother’s actions in conceiving Damian. She couldn’t do anything about it. Talia was also a victim.

A louder voice in her asked if she could really excuse that, when Talia had a choice and she chose to hurt and violate Bruce Wayne like that. She wondered if she could truly ever forgive Talia. She wondered if Bruce Wayne got therapy.

——

She stared at the tome in front of her, eyes blank. (Actually, she had no eyes. Like? Empty sockets, but then later she had eyes???)

The brand- the shackles- the chains could only be broken if Ra’s died. She wasn’t opposed to that. But if he died, so did she. She couldn’t even kill herself to get out, because the chains would be there even if she died. If she was revived- a high chance, thanks to the fucking pits- then the chains would still be there.

Perhaps… she could use the pits?

Her mind turned and turned.

——

“This is your ukht.” Her mother pointed at her. Damian stared up at her, and she melted. Her brother was too damn cute.

“Ukhti?”

She nodded as her mother smiled in joy. “Yes, habibi.”

She was better at hiding the pain, now. She was better at enduring it, too, that fucking burning feeling. She spoke more, but only to Damian.

It would not do for her brother to grow up not knowing how to receive verbal expressions of affection. Not like she did, in this life.

Still, it hurt to speak. But then, she had an idea, based on Cassandra.

She could not speak, but speaking wasn’t the only way of communication. She’ll teach Damian sign language- standard, as commanded- but also her own version. Yes, she could do it. It wouldn’t be hard.

She was a genius, after all, and creating languages wasn’t as hard as people seem to think.

——

Damian copied her, small fingers patting his hand four times.

She did it back to him. “I love you.” She tells him, with sounds and with motions.

He does it back, excitedly, because he had a secret with ukhti!

——

Sometimes, she dared not to touch Damian. She wants to ruffle his hair and give him hugs but the ichor on her hands reminds her to not get to greedy. She did not deserve it.

Not when her hands were stained with the lives of so many people.

——

Another mission.

She was twenty now, and not much closer to escaping her bonds. Though, once she hit her majority, Ra’s lost interest in her in that way. A blessing, even if she had to seduce his “business partners” into giving him better deals more often now.

She stops by Bludhaven. The Robin she watched so many years ago- six, by her count- had grown new wings and moved. She wanted to see if he could fly still.

He could. He flew as free- no, freer than his days as Robin.

She dipped away to complete her mission (nuclear weapon trading, really?) and swings back to see a spider trying to break the former Robin’s wings.

“No.” Nightwing whispered, staring upwards at the cloudy sky blankly. “Please, stop.”

She didn’t need to hear any more. She saw red, and dove feet first straight onto the spider’s head, knocking her out.

She picked up a near-catatonic Nightwing, and helped him to his apartment. She left Tarantula in the rain and felt zero guilt about it.

He changed mechanically, some kind of instinct keeping him from removing his domino, but it was a bit pointless considering she escorted him to his personal apartment.

She watched as Nightwing slipped into an exhausted sleep before leaving. She had a spider to squish, and traces to hide.

——

Dick wakes up, drained and exhausted. He… someone saved him.

He sees a scrawled note, handwriting impeccable enough to be a font, written with his pen. He picked it up from his table, and his eyes tiredly read the message.

“Don’t worry about Tarantula. Or your identity.”- A friend.

He remembered- the mask- the mask of the stranger that saved him vividly. He’d remember. And he’d thank them if they ever came back.

——

She was in charge of training assassins, these days. A year and a half later after Bludhaven, she was back in Nanda Parbat, and she’s devoured every magical tome she could get her hands on. They all say the same things.

Her assassins were trained well, and Ra’s praises her with more responsibilities as he followed the pit in his obsessions. Her mother began to splinter the group, not knowing that as Ra’s began his descent into madness, people looked towards her instead of Talia for leadership. They did not know that her unwavering presence by Ra’s side wasn’t voluntary but it is their true that she became his right hand out of pure skill. And flawless obedience, of course.

Then, someone new joins.

Someone with pit rage and empty eyes that goes rigid when she approaches.

Then again, most of the operatives freeze up when she walks towards them.

Her memories roar. A child.

He bowed, and her eyes followed the streak of white hair at the forefront of his skull.

She gestured at him to follow, and ignored the pitiful eyes the rest of the assassins gave to the kid- they act like her training was hard when she went easy on them (it was)- and led the kid towards the training rooms.

She knew who he was, even if her grandfather and mother didn’t think she knew.

Her… Bruce Wayne would probably appreciate his son being returned relatively sane.

But first, she had to beat the Pit out of him. Then, she could assign body guarding duties to him, in an attempt to protect him.

——

“Grandfather, I will take Damian’s punishment.”

“A whipping girl, granddaughter?” But he nodded anyways. He made Damian watch.

She kneeled and allowed the punishment. She couldn’t always protect him from Ra’s, but this she could do anytime. It’s not like she was unfamiliar with the torture. (The whip had barbs. Rusty. And they sprinkled salt.)

——

“I liked poetry….” Jason Todd tells her after a training session. “I think.”

“Sure. I’ll call you Grave, then.” Pain. But she was used to it.

He tilted his head, eyes going blank once more. She sighed. There went his memories again. (His eyes were blank and glazed. Like looking at someone you love and knowing they’re looking through you.)

——

“I would not trust her,” she says to the air, next to a Red Hood emerging from Talia al Ghul’s chambers. She could see it, the beginnings of Gotham’s new crime lord. But still, “Talia al Ghul is known for her lies.”

She pushed away from the wall. It was up to Grave if he listened. It was out of her hands now.

——

She’s twenty-five, and she’s helping Damian pack for his first meeting with Bruce Wayne.

“You must not tell him about me.” Because he’d come rushing here, and she had worked too hard to save Damian for her fool of a father to come and ruin all of that effort.

“I promise.” Her little brother said solemnly. Ukhti said it out loud, which meant it was important and she expected him to keep that promise.

The only other time he’d heard her speak was to tell him she loved him.

The reincarnation smiled and told him through their special sign language, to treat the current Robin with respect and to try his best to get the current Robin to pass down his title.

‘Robin is earned. They have different rules, over there. Try your best to learn those rules.’

Her brother was sheltered. She loved him, but he was spoilt and sheltered. Of course she was worried. Talia barely mothered him.

“I know. You do not have to remind me so often, ukhti.”

She smiled, and patted his head.

“Be safe,” she whispered. “I will miss you.”

Damian darted in for a hug. “Of course. Goodbye, sister. See you soon.”

She hoped not. It was hard enough to convince Ra’s that Damian would learn more under Bruce Wayne.

(She was locked in a small closet- like Cass- for about a week, because she brought up the idea first.)

——

She found it.

The answer to pit rage laid in an old, all but crumbling tome from Atlantis- answers “from a ghost.”

——

Bruce Wayne died. Months after Damian came to live with him. That- irritating- she sighed and worked with her mother to turn Ra’s al Ghul’s attention away from Gotham, lest he called Damian back in Bruce Wayne’s absence.

The little photographer caught grandfather’s attention. She stood vigil as he played chess with Ra’s. His interest in Damian wavered. Anticipation blurred in her veins.

She saved his friends. Her assassins. She let them go, telling them to wait for the little photographer’s plan. (Y’all miss girl had fucking bloody handprints on her pants like someone tried to grab it.)

The first few people who had an inking she might not be loyal to Ra’s… and it was them.

When her other assassins attacked Red Robin, she cut them down before they could touch him, helping him with a furious League of Spiders or whatever operative. She hated spiders.

“What…?”

“You’re a lot of trouble, little photographer.” She sighed. His jaw dropped.

“It’s you!”

“Go,” she cut him off. “Blow this place up. I left a surprise for you outside.”

——

“Owens?! Z?!” Tim trembled, exhaustion and shock and wonder hitting him at once.

“Heya, boss!” Z chirped. Owens helped Tim up while Z helped Tam. Pry walked around them, looking out for further threats. “The nightmare trainer let us go. She knew you, I think.”

Tim smiles, all shark teeth and zero hero. (In the background, the song zero to hero from Hercules 2, played in reverse.) “Tell me more.”

——

Damian grunted, bracing himself for the magical creature’s attack.

“Robin!” His father barked out, panicked. Damian hoped he’d survive-

Shhhlk!

He looked up and there stood his ukht. She bounded forwards, using the odd fauna of the magical plane to bolster her movements as she sliced the creatures apart with her swords, magic humming brightly as she cut through them… and the magicians attacking them.

“What- what are you doing here?” He asked. She greeted him, three fingers curled over her shoulder.

‘My question is,’ she signed. ‘Why were you here without a magical weapon.’

Damian sighed as father stepped in between them.

“Who are you.”

“Batman. Cease your excessive worry. I trust her with my life,” Damian snapped. He stepped around a shocked Batman, looked him in the eyes, and unsheathed his katana. He handed it over to his ukht, who took it with amusement.

‘See?’ His eyes seemed to say. Father tensed when his sister unsheathed her own blade and handed it to him.

‘Are you here for a specific reason?’ His sister signed to him.

“Uh, you gonna introduce us, little man?”

Damian sent the Flash a derisive look and ignored him.

“We’re looking for a magician. He set a squadron of demons loose into D.C. last night. He has a tower.” Damian added.

“Robin,” Father growled. “Who is this.” Damian shot him a look and turned back to his sister.

The reincarnation tilted her head. ‘Tower… it’ll have to be that way.’

“Could you take us there?” Damian asked. Truthfully, he could find the way himself. But he wanted more time around his ukht. She nodded and Damian straightened.

“I feel like we should be concerned that Robin’s friend just murdered a bunch of people.”

His sister glanced back and ignored them.

“Silence, incompetents. Speak another word against her, and Batman’s no killing rule will be applied creatively.” He hissed. (The fucking surroundings hissed with him y’all what the fuck)

He turned when his sister ruffled his hair (Superman muttered a super shocked “what the fuck.”) and Damian allowed it. He had missed his sister.

——

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Can you do a fic with a really innocent reader who is shy and nervous about receiving oral sex for the first time. But eventually Axl gets her to see that he just wants to help her relax and make her feel good. And he’s super sweet, gentle, tender, and caring towards her and praises her during her first time because he knows how nervous she is and he just wants to treat her the best he can.

A/n: Ik I've been posting a lot the past few days but I have not been writing anything and just posting drafts so I'm trying to write more bc I'm running out of finished drafts and I have so many asks :')

Warnings: Smut, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), praise, cum eating, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

Masterlist

Axl was your first for everything. You’d been dating since high school and you moved out to L.A. with him when he asked on a whim.

Up until now you hadn’t done a lot of things, sexually speaking. You’d given him a blow job, jerked him off. You’d rubbed against each other but nothing much more than that, though he desperately wanted to see what face you made when you came.

You’d been having a shitty week, getting yelled at, ignored, pushed to the side and walked over and at the end of the day you’d come home and tell Axl all about your day. Then, like clockwork, Axl would offer to relieve you of your stress.

It was Friday and you finally had a day off, you just had to make it through one more day of work. That’s what you kept telling yourself over and over again.

Everything was going fine until Axl called. You picked up the phone and listened to him complain about stuff with Guns, then your boss walked past and snatched the phone from you, slamming it back into its place and hanging up on Axl before going on a rant about how ‘useless’ you’d been.

You left soon after, earlier than you were supposed to.

You just crawled into bed and stayed there, unmoving for hours.

Axl can home and called out for you, eventually finding you in the bedroom. He had a bag in one hand filled with snacks.

“Hey sweetheart, another bad day?” He asked, making his way over to you and sitting next to you on the bed. You nodded and reached for the bag but he pulled it away from you. “No candy unless you let me help you.”

“But-“

“What do you have to lose at this point?” He asked, setting the bag down on the floor. You thought about it for a moment before slowly pulling your work pants down. “Good girl.” You smiled at the pet name and let him do the rest.

You sat back against the bed frame, Axl got comfortable between your legs after having taken off your panties. “Just try to take your mind off work.”

You groaned. “But I want to complain.” Axl laughed, his hot breath fanning over your cunt.

“Then you can complain afterwards, right now let me take care of you.” You nodded, a soft gasp leaving you when his tongue slid through your already glistening folds.

His tongue dipped into you, flicking sensitive nerves. His nose, fuck, you couldn't count how many times it bumped your clit, you couldn't tell if he was trying to or not but you wanted more.

"Fuck-! Axl, that-that feels..." You trailed off, unsure of what you were trying to say.

"It feels good, right?" He asked, barely pulling away to speak. He smiled up at you, pretty eyes and shiny lips. You nodded and he went back to fucking you, his tongue swirling around your clit.

"Hah! I-I should've let you do-do this sooner, oh fuck~" Your head rolled back, resting against the headboard. Your hands went to his head, tugging on his hair and drawing moans from him which vibrated through you.

"Doing so good for me, sweetheart~" His deep voice had your legs shaking. "Making such pretty noises." A hand left your thigh and you felt him push a finger into you. Your back arched as he curled it inside you, dragging against your walls and pulling moans out of you.

"Axl, m'gonna- m'so close!" You whined. Out of curiosity you looked down at him. His gaze flickered between your face and your cunt, tongue slipping past his lips, paying attention to your clit, fingers pushing in and out of your puffy hole. Such an angelic and filthy sight.

Your body shook as you came at the sight, eyes rolling back, pleasure rocking your body. He felt so good.

"See?" Axl sat up, licking your juices off his fingers and wiping his chin. "I told you it felt good." Your mind was foggy as you tried to catch your breath. You smiled tiredly and closed your legs, only for Axl to force them apart again. "No, I want more." He gleamed, leaning in and kissing you, you could taste the saltiness of yourself on his lips.

[weird-is-life]

Don't deny it

Pairing: Rockstar!Sirius Black x fem!reader

Summary: Rockstar!Sirius keeps denying your relationship and you finally have enough

Warnings: angst, fluff, use of pet names, use of y/n, swear words, mentions of head injury, happy ending ofc

Words: 2.4k

You thought, that you've been just imagining it, but as you hear Sirius getting interviewed now, you know, you haven't.

Sirius has been keeping your relationship secret. Like everytime he got interviewed in the last few months, he played it like he was single. No mentions of a girlfriend, meaning no mentions of you.

Like you get it, that the band is really famous and that mentioning your name would kind of make your life a bit more difficult. With less privacy and everything.

But he doesn't have to say your name, he could just admit having a girlfriend. No need to go into details.

And you think, you've finally had enough when you hear him reply to the reporter's question.

"So my last question is for all of the fangirls, is Sirius Black taken?" the reporter chuckles as she asks it.

You hear Sirius laugh too," taken? No, I'm definitely not taken. Still very single, sadly."

You hear him laugh some more, before you turn the interview off. You feel like the dumbest fool.

Obviously, Sirius is too embarrassed of you to even admit he's dating anybody, there can't be any other reason.

And you've definitely had enough of it. Everytime he denies your relationship, you feel like your heart is being ripped out of your chest and stumped on.

You can't go on like this. You don't want to hurt like this anymore. You can't keep hoping that one day, he's going to admit having a girlfriend. You just can't, it pains you too much.

So with that, you decide to ignore Sirius, hoping he'll understand, that you don't want to see him ever again. You know, he shouldn't be home for at least 2 weeks, so hopefully by the time he comes home, you'll move on (too optimistic).

You stop responding to his texts, answering his phone and eventually, you even turn off your phone. You don't give him any explanation, you don't think he deserves one.

Sirius on the other hand is going crazy with worries just after a few hours of radio silence from you. He even calls your best friend to find out if you're okay. Apparently, you are, but you friend refuses to tell him anything more and just hangs up on him.

That doesn't ease his worries at all. He rakes his mind for an answer to what's he done? But nothing comes to his mind.

He tries to contact you again and again, but still, no response. You don't respond even when James or Remus try. So Sirius starts to loose his mind over you.

But he can't leave to go to you, no matter how much he wants to. The band is in the middle of finishing the new album, so he can't just bail on them. He tried it and got yelled by the management pretty badly. Threatening of getting let go by their label if he just leaves.

Sirius becomes completely useless at the studio and the band rehearsals, messing up everything, because his mind is stuck on you.

"Please sweetheart, pick up, please" Sirius whispers brokenly as he once again tries to call you.

You don't pick up and the phone call ends. Sirius throws his phone across the room from the frustration. He slumps onto a sofa and puts his head into his hands in defeat.

He sits there with tears freely running down his cheeks. It's a heartbreaking sight, seeing him so hopeless.

James and Remus find him like that and immediately know, that they have to push him to go see you.

"Go, " James tells him.

"What?" Sirius looks up confused, eyes red.

"Go after her," Remus adds encouragingly.

"But the label....I can't....they'll cut us off-"

"Doesn't matter, we'll just find some other label, there's plenty of them, that want us," James says, maybe a little smugly at the fact, that are are many labels that would kill to have The Marauders.

Sirius looks at them unsurely, "are you guys sure?"

James and Remus groan in frustration, "fucking hell, will you just get out of here, please?" James tells him.

Both Sirius and Remus chuckle, and Sirius quickly gets up. He comes up to the boys and hugs them tightly, squeezing them almost death, until they are pushing him away.

Sirius basically sprints out of the studio. He just grabs all the essentials and runs to the airport. One of the benefits of being famous is the private plane, which he happily uses on his way to you. He gets home in a record time.

The walk through the halls towards your apartment is very nerve-wracking. Sirius doesn't know what to expect, but he certainly doesn't expect all of his stuff, that he's left at your apartment to be sitting outside waiting for him.

"Shit," he curses under his breath and runs a trembling hand through his hair. He can't believe this is happening. He hopes it isn't. He hopes, it's just a nightmare, that he'll soon wake up from. He can't just loose you, he won't survive it, he's sure of that.

Sirius checks under the rug for the spare key and as expected, it isn't there. So Sirius just knocks.

No answer.

He tries again, because he knows you're inside, he can hear the shuffling of things.

"Y/N, please it's me, please open. I-I....can we please talk?" Sirius begs and begs, but you're too stubborn for your own good, you've always been like that, so you don't open.

He knocks and begs, until the neighbours are threatening to call the police on him. Sirius, defeated, sits down with his back to your door.

"Please, love, c-can we just talk?" his tired voice still doesn't break you, but Sirius doesn't give up, " okay, it's okay. I'll wait 'till, you're ready."

And he means it. He makes himself as comfortable as he can on the floor, intending to stay there however long it takes.

You, on the other hand, put on your headphones to ignore Sirius pleads and knocking. You just can't see him right now or anytime soon, your heart is too broken for that.

Even if one part of you wishes to see him and hug him, your body craves the comfort of him. But the rational part of you knows, that'd be too bad for you.

Sirius keeps hiding you and you keep hurting, you can't go on like this, not anymore.

You go to sleep, full of raw emotions, and even if sleep doesn't come easily, eventually you drift off.

In the morning, you wake up just as tired as you were, when you went to bed. And when you open your fridge, you realise, you don't even have anything to eat for breakfast.

You groan internally, you don't feel like going out of your apartment, like at all, but you have to, you can't go on without food.

You put on your most incognito clothes, hoping that you won't meet anyone you know, especially Sirius.

And as you open your door, they suddenly slam wide open, because of some weight pushing against it front the outside.

Said weight, you realise, is Sirius. You yelp in shock, when you see him and look at him bewildered.

Sirius wakes up with a groan. He wasn't thinking of you opening the door, when he first leaned against it. Now he kind of regrets it, as his entire head hurts from hitting it on the floor.

"What the fuck, Sirius?" you whisper yell, you would yell loudly, if it wasn't so early in the morning.

Sirius, upon realising that he can finally see you, stands up quickly. That isn't the best idea though, because his head starts to spin.

"Sweetheart, i-"

"Don't sweetheart me, Sirius. What the hell are you doing here? Have you been here since yesterday?" you question, angrily. You notice, that Sirius looks just as bad as you. Huge eye bags under his eyes, hair dishevelled like crazy.

"Yeah, I told, I'd wait until you were ready to talk," he just replies, giving you a small, hesitant smile.

You don't know, what to say. Your head is full of emotions and you can't decide, which ones are right and which ones aren't.

While you are thinking of what to say to him and glaring at him at the same time, Sirius head starts to spin badly.

"I think, I'm going to pass out," Sirius quickly tells you as he almost tumbles on the ground.

You, without thinking, catch him by the arms.

"W-what's wrong?" you ask a little scared. You find Sirius at your door and suddenly, he's passing out?

"I hit my head..." he mumbles out and hisses as he touches the back of his head.

You sigh, "fuck, okay, c'mon." You help him to your couch and swiftly go to retrieve some ice pack for his head and some water.

You put the ice pack at the back of his head and Sirius winces some more. "Sorry," you whisper.

"It's okay-....I- thank you, sweetheart." Sirius calls you 'sweetheart' again and you want to slap yourself for feeling the butterflies.

You quickly go to the kitchen, so he doesn't see the redness at your cheeks. "Shit," you whisper to yourself, "what am I going to do?"

You've wanted to stay away from Sirius as far away as possible and now he is in your apartment? You don't know if you want to run away, punch him in the face or kiss him stupid.

You stay as long as you can in the kitchen, basically just hiding away from Sirius and you complete forgot about your intention of going to the shop.

Sirius is unusually quiet, so after a longer while you gather all the courage you can to face him, only to find him fast asleep.

You sigh at the sight of his peaceful, asleep face, you quickly throw a blanket over him (before you can think it through) and head out to actually get something to eat, 'cause you're starving.

When you come back, Sirius wakes up at your arrival.

"H-hi, "he says with a groggy, sleepy voice. He smiles at you like nothing has happened, like everything is normal and it makes you suddenly so so angry.

You drop your grocery bags on the ground and quietly, but sternly ask, "you are embarrassed of me, that's why, right?"

Sirius is quickly woken up from his half asleep state by your mad voice and baffles," e-embarrassed? What? Of course, I'm not."

"Yes, you are," you say exasperatedly, you can feel, that your eyes are filling with tears, " you are!"

Sirius stands up slowly, but steadily and comes closer to you, not entirely close, he still wants to give you some space. "I could never be embarrassed of you, y/n, never."

"Then why?" you ask desperately as one tear rolls down your cheek, Sirius's hand itches to wipe it away.

"Why what? I don't understand," Sirius begs for explanation, while he rakes his mind for an answer to his question as well.

"Y-you keep pretending like I don't even exist, like you don't want me!" you try to suppress the little sob, that escapes your mouth. Sirius wants to fucking beat himself up for making you cry, even if he doesn't really know the reason why yet.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asks stupidly and you sob again.

"What? What? What? The fucking interviews Sirius, I mean them," you pretty much yell it to him, the frustration being too much for you.

Sirius finally understands and the realisation hits him like a crushing wave. He didn't know you were feeling this way about them," why didn't you say anything? I thought, you were okay with keeping our relationship private."

"Private yes, but not to the point you are literally chuckling and saying how incredibly single you are," you argue," that's just wrong. But if you want to be single so badly, i won't fight against it."

"No," Sirius blurts out instantly, " I don't want to be single."

"Then what do you want?" you sniffle.

"You. Just only you, nobody else," Sirius is trying to catch your gaze, but you refuse to look at him, "sweetheart, please look at me."

You hesitate, but eventually you look at him. You notice, that tears aren't only on your face.

"Have you been feeling like this for a long time?" Sirius questions and you nod, he curses under his breath.

"I'm so sorry, i didn't notice. Shit, I'm such an idiot, " he starts and without thinking he takes a few steps closer to you," I'm sorry, angel. If I knew, you were feeling this way, I would have never ever continued denying our relationship. Fuck, It was killing me to stay quiet about us, I wanted to tell them everything about you. Please believe me."

You stay quiet and your sobs slowly start to go away. Sirius waits for you to say something, anything really.

"N-not everything please," you whisper. You can't stay mad at your Sirius long, even if you'd really want to sometimes. It's just not possible to be angry with him, especially when he loves you so much.

"What was that?" Sirius doesn't catch it.

"Don't tell them everything about me please," you tell him as you, after a few days, smile. Truly smile.

Sirius takes it as a permission to finally touch you. He has you in his arms in a matter of seconds, squeezing you oh so tightly, while he laughs happily.

"Does this mean, t-that I am forgiven?" he asks you unsurely, as he reluctantly eases you out of his tight embrace.

"Maybe," you grin at him

"Maybe? What do I have to do to get a yes, huh lovely?" Sirius softly asks, he takes your cheeks into his hands and gently wipes the tears away.

"You could kiss me, you know," you say with a sheepish smile. You look too cute, cheeks red and puffy, for Sirius to say no to you. As if he would every deny you a kiss or anything else for that matter.

He instantly leans it and kisses you, it's soft and maybe a little desperate kiss, but it doesn't matter to you or him.

You let him kiss you as long as you manage without breathing, even if you know there're still things to talk about. You'll talk about it, just later, after you get enough kisses.

[kiruamon]

A false bride for the false gods AU - Introduction

A new year and a new AU to ramble about, but first have some sketches of the cast. (More sketches are also after the text.)

Let's start with the plot:

Y/N lives in a small village together with their sister. While their sister is a seer and can predict sometimes events from the future, Y/N has no such gifts.

In their little village two local gods are worshipped. Said gods being Sun and Moon. They do visit the village every now and then. Mostly to collect some of the offerings that the villagers are leaving for them and listening to their supplications. They never show up in the village together and usually Sun visits it more frequently and making his presence more known to everyone as Moon who sometimes strolls simply through the village during nighttime not minding if his presence goes unnoticed.

But there comes a day where Sun declares that he and Moon have choosen to take one of the humans of the village as their future spouse. And their choice fell onto your sister. Sun demands that the ritual for the wedding will be performed during the summer solstice next month. It should be a great honor. A happy occasion. Everyone else in the village is thrilled. But you know your sister's heart is in pieces, because it already belongs to someone else.

It takes some days of thinking and turning different ideas around in your head. Plans about just leaving the village with her and her beloved before the wedding. But that would be difficult with so many eyes on them. But you also could not simply hold still and do nothing. And so you came to your sister with a better plan. Telling her to switch roles with you on the day of the wedding ritual. The gown for the ritual with it's hood already would obscure enough of your face and other features so that you doubted that anyone would be able to tell the difference between you two during the ritual. With all the distraction in the village during the event it would give her enough time to leave the village with her partner. It needed a lot of convincing and begging. But in the end she agreed and even as you did not know what to do when your trick would be found out by the two gods, it didn't mattered too much to you as long as you would know your sister being safe and happy.

So the time comes. Everything goes as planed. Your sister had told you all you needed to know for the ritual, helped you prepare and dress up while staying hidden in the house until the other villagers came and took you with them to the place where the ritual would be performed. Sun is there. Accepting what he thinks would be your sister as his and Moon's bride. He takes your hand and as you left the border of the village it's like you stepped into another place. It looks like the same forest, but it doesn't feel the same. The village is gone and the air feels different. More clean and serene. But despite all, Sun who is guiding you is short on words. Almost ignoring you. He comes of as absent-minded. Until you reach a little shrine where he stops for the first time and turns around. His tall figure towering over yours. His hands reach for your hood. "Time to take it off," he mumbles as it slides down your head. It's the point where everything goes down. His eyes flicker in surprise before his mouth turns into a grimace and a deep scowl shows his growing displeasure of what he sees. "You are not the one we asked for!"

And yeah, that's the start of the main plot of the story.

Sun and Moon have to deal with being tricked to marry the wrong human. And Sun is not happy at all with it. He will constantly scowl and looking disgusted at you. Rambling about his displeasure of having to stick with the a plain and useless human like you and pretty much giving you the cold shoulder.

Also, surprise, surprise, you will find out during your first night that Sun and Moon are sharing the same body as they change by nightfall. And while you're already expecting an equally cold greeting from Moon, who you always had imagined to be the more reserved, serious and colder one out of the two gods... he simply broke out into laughter, finding the situation quite hilarious and complimenting you on your little trickery. It's a big surprise, but you are somewhat relieved not to have to deal with two upset gods.

Additional facts:

Moon is a pretty chill guy in this au. He is showing from the start a bigger interest in you. Not minding that you are 'just' a normal human without any power. He also think it's pretty funny how much you have upset Sun with your trick. Which causes some back and forth talking between the two in their shared mind and only adds to Sun's foul mood. While Moon does tend to take things more light-hearted and not as seriously as Sun, he can read the room pretty good. If he does act on it or puts more fuel into the fire depends on the situation though. Moon is also the one who explains more about themselves and their realm to you at the beginning. He also spends willingly more time with you. As an example, he will take you on midnight strolls through their realm for stargazing and taking you back home to the shrine if you fall asleep.

Sun on the other hand like mentioned already is so not pleased with the events. He will be snarky, constantly reminding you how much he despises you and how awful it is that he is now married to you without no way for him to reverse the bond between you three since you made your vows to each other through the ritual. He spends as little time talking with you as possible if he can. Being annoyed if you failing to do tasks right at the first try or having to ask him questions about the new place you found yourself living in. Communication with him is hard and a real challenge. While Sun doesn't make it obvious and it's easy to forget, he does can see and hear very well the same things as Moon does and vice versa. So if you are spending time with Moon and talking with him, Sun also will be aware of the conversation and what is said and happening. And it's through this way that Sun will slowly soften up a bit around you. Even more so when one night you pour your heart out to Moon about the difficulties you have with Sun and to get along with him, but without seemingly any efforts, even as you are trying very hard to be on friendly terms with Sun. It makes you feel a bit at a loss what to do anymore and also as if failing over and over. Moon knows that Sun is listening in. Even as he doesn't tell you. And he already knows that his counterpart will come around eventually which is why he simply tells you not to worry too much about it. That it will be all good at the end. It's a slow progress but Moon is right and Sun does become less hostile around you. Slowly, he will start to see you less and less as the useless human he had been annoyed over and put his prejudices aside. He has a hard time showing it at first. Not always finding the right words and often comes up as too rough, when actually don't wanting to push you away anymore. It's a bit awkward, but gets better with every day and interaction. Sun will open up more around you. Enjoying your presence more and being quite chatty. Smiles will become less rare as well as him reaching out to you, to hold your hand or yourself in his arms to make some physical contact.

The reason why he was so frustrated over having not your sister but you as your bride will also be revealed. Sun had hoped with a seer as their spouse their might be a chance for him and Moon to find out a way to be accepted as real gods.

Because the other gods do not view them as such and it had scratched on Sun's pride so much that it had grown into an obsession of his. The reason for this is that he and Moon had been created as tools from the gods Sol and Luna a long, long time ago until they had not been needed anymore and simply had grown into the roles of the smaller local gods of the mountain villages. And Sun had always wished for more. That he and Moon would be finally accepted into the ranks of the others gods. Not looked down upon any longer. So yes, Sun had tried to make the village seer through the marriage a tool for them to use. Which had not worked out in the end. But as his relationship to you got better, he finds himself surprised at the notion that he lately cares less about his original goals and plans.

Y/N is just a normal human. Maybe they and their sister are twins. I honestly would find it a tad more funny if Y/N would be male just for some extra giggles at the reveal when Sun lifts up their hood. But I will let it open for everyone to choose for themself what they like best. Other than that they are a kind, not too confident and somewhat timid person, I imagine. To come up with the switch and even going through with it, had been the boldest thing they ever had done in their life. They struggle a lot, because of Sun's early demeanour and take his words much to heart which is why Moon is trying so often to distract them when it's their time together and reassures them that they are doing well. Also the chain around Y/N's neck was part of the ritual and gown. There is probably a line in the vows close to something like this: "Like the links of this chain our fates will be connected from now on to eternity."

And then there is Eclipse. Which I... honestly don't have too much plans for at the moment, other than him being an additional form of Sun and Moon. Maybe they will get stuck in the form of Eclipse for a while due to getting in trouble with a higher god. Maybe it could be a situation where Sun got really riled up about one of the other gods speaking badly about their little human spouse so that Sun uses his powers against said god. Just to get himself and Moon cursed into this form where they have trouble controlling their body or to speak. So they and Y/N will have to find a way to reverse things. Yeah, I think that sounds kind of nice.

[daengtokki]

part five // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 11k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: angst, sex, murder, medication usage, hallucinations, sa mention

SYNOPSIS: Seungmin floats through life alone, haunted by his memories—keeping himself under control, and quieting his mind the only way he knows how…killing and watching the life leave his victims eyes. When you cross his path on a morning hunt, something new (something forgotten) starts to move inside of him, leading both of you on a path to confront the unspeakable past.

comments: I wasn't sure how many parts I would need to get to the end, but this isn’t it, ha—we’re not done yet! Thank you for sticking with me!

Please support and reblog if you enjoy! Reblogs help your favorite writers on Tumblr!

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST ]

—taglist: @kkamismom12 / @r0tt1n / @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg

Where do you go from here?

You can’t tell yet, because Seungmin hasn’t spoken more than ten words to you in the last three days. The feeling deep down in your gut was right, but despite your heartache, your sleepless nights, and your lonely days…this still feels normal. He heard the words, panicked(?), put a new wall up, and now you’re left with this painful, awkward silence.

But it’s not fair. He started this.

He said it first, and you don’t think he would say those words lightly—it didn’t take all these weeks to figure that out. You knew the night he came looking for you and finally managed to tell you he didn’t want you to leave. It took a lot out of him. Taking you in and caring for you has taken a lot out of him, even though it does seem to be the other way around most of the time. That came naturally, though. Being responsible for the people around you is your normal; taking the blame when things go wrong, or don’t work out…that’s all yours. Damage control is your specialty, but you haven’t done a great job of it lately.

Seungmin looks at you from his spot in the living room. He’s sitting up, but hugging his pillow and resting his head on the arm of the couch. This has been his typical afternoon for the last few days after taking his medicine, and you’re worried he’s adjusting poorly…hallucinating, and just not telling you.

“Did you eat last night?”

He closes his eyes.

“I’ll take that as a no. So, nothing since yesterday morning.”

Maybe if you go over there and beg him to say something; get down on your knees and plead, you’ll get a word. You want to tell him about your nightmare last night. If you were thrashing around and talking in your sleep, he didn’t hear you—he didn’t wake you and comfort you. You woke on your own, gasping for breath and clenching the sheets, and Seungmin’s eyes were shut tight. Trying to get any sleep after that was useless, so you gathered your pillow, a blanket, and Daengmo (he was looking at you, at least) and left him there.

Daengmo is still here on the opposite end of the couch, like a strange mirrored image of his owner.

“I can try to make you something”

Nothing.

“Or I can order it. I haven’t exactly mastered Korean cooking yet.” But not for lack of trying. You’ve consumed nothing but news, dramas, and cooking shows lately to help with learning the language. And to make sure you don’t hear anything else about Seungmin’s last kill. So far it’s been quiet, but it’s only been three days.

“I’ll just go grab something.” You throw your sweatshirt on and head for the door, “you can eat it if you want…” tighten your shoelaces, grab your keys. A mumble comes from him as you reach for the doorknob, and you almost ignore it. “Did you say something?”

“I said I’ll come with you”

It takes him a few more moments to sit himself up, but once he gets that far, he seems to wake up. You wait patiently by the door as he changes, and he makes a point to duck into the bathroom and fix his hair. Another thing you did in complete silence; dyed his hair, and you noticed him staring at the trashcan where the he threw the negative test. Seungmin comes back out looking almost exactly like he did the day you met him; the black and white windbreaker, the calm, somewhat confident look in his eyes. You’re not sure where that came from. He even grabs the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table on his way to you.

“What are you in the mood for?” You tread lightly, not wanting to disrupt whatever jumped into him so suddenly. It was silly to think you got through his worst, but you hoped for just a moment that the closeness and the consistency would help…and the medicine. You still have a long way to go.

“I like your cooking”

You’re not sure where it came from, but you think you see a smile around his cigarette.

“Thank you for cooking for me. And everything else.”

Seungmin watched, or stared absently at you folding laundry this morning. It was then you wondered if it was on its way back—his itch. It has to return eventually, but you hoped you both had more time. The cocky look on his face makes you think otherwise.

“I like doing it.” For him you don’t mind it, and it’s because he doesn’t expect it of you, or demand it.

“Right here”

He opens the door, and you can feel the heat. The smell should help perk him up if his appetite has returned.

“What are we getting?”

“Galbijjim”

It’s small and crowded inside, so when Seungmin finds you an empty table to sit at, you hesitate. “You don’t wanna take it home?” You’ve already gotten a few looks, and you’re not sure if it’s just directed toward you, or the two of you together. It doesn’t bother you much, but you remember how Seungmin felt on the crowded train. “It’s pretty busy in here.”

“No, I’m fine if you are”

But you do notice his eyes wandering around, taking in each person, letting them linger for far too long.

“How are you feeling, still sleepy?”

“Hm?” He doesn’t look at you.

You try to find exactly what he’s looking at, and you do. It’s obvious. Seungmin is staring at one of the girls waiting for an order. His eyes are pitch black, all pupil, when he finally shakes himself free to look at you.

“I said,” your voice shakes, so you shut up and try to calm the wild heartbeat in your throat. “How are you feeling…with the medicine?”

Still he doesn’t answer, but he’s looking right at you.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna go back home? We’d be more comfortable on the couch…we could watch a movie, maybe.”

“I’m good, the medicine is…” he drops his gaze to his hands, and you follow. Seungmin starts to fidget; pick and scratch at the table, stop himself and wring his hands together. “The medicine is fine.”

The medicine might be doing its job, but fine isn’t the word you would use, and Seungmin is not with you right now. He’s somewhere between his own head and the girl ten feet away…the one that is now staring at him. Now you’re hoping his feeling has returned, because the only alternative would be pure attraction, which she clearly shares. He wouldn’t do that to you after everything, though. Your jealousy is just winning over logic.

“Good. You seem less tired.”

Ignoring it is difficult, but you have to. What else are you supposed to do; confront him, ask if this is his next target, and just wonder why? What is it about her that appeals to him, and in what way…murder? Sex and murder? Just sex? You need to know…that will happen again. You remember him telling you that last time. But you remember everything else, too. There is no denying or hiding your jealousy.

“You’re right, maybe we should take our food home.”

/ / /

The two of you start walking, food in hand, but it takes about ten seconds to realize why he changed his mind about staying—he’s following her. Why is he doing this while you’re with him?

“Seungmin, where are we going?”

“I need you to do me a favor.” His tone is flat, uninterested. He’s not asking you a favor, he’s giving you an order…calmly. “Take the food and go home, and then leave for a while.”

“What? Leave and go where?”

“Anywhere…coffee shop, the university library to study…shopping.”

He’s getting rid of you to seduce her. Kill her, yeah, but first he’ll have sex with her in the bed you’ve been sharing. You have to do what he says, though, because you knew what Seungmin was when you decided to return to him, and you knew he’d return to this, eventually. Getting upset about it now might make him upset, and his medicine, combined with the itch, and then you on top of it all being jealous and difficult...it won’t help. You decide you should be grateful for the last few weeks you’ve had him all to yourself.

“Okay, I’ll go”

“Let me know when you leave the apartment”

“I will, I’ll text you”

“If for some reason it falls through, I’ll pick you up wherever you are”

You doubt it’ll fall through, not with the way she was looking at him. He’ll have another kill under his belt by the time the sun goes down.

Seungmin continues straight, and you take a left on the next block, but you watch him for as long as you can before he disappears. The university library is a good idea, but you’d only sit there and wonder what Seungmin was up to the whole time. You’d go through his possible actions, step by step, thinking of the two of them initiating. Touching, kissing, undressing. Her hands on Seungmin’s hips, pulling at his sweatpants to get to what you now believe is yours. Will it just be a blowjob, like the last time? Will he lay her on the bed and eat her out? That feels too intimate for him, but that’s because he’s so intimate with you when he does it. There is no reason for him to be careful and gentle and attentive to anyone else, especially if they die at the end.

Maybe shopping will keep your mind more occupied.

You unlock the door and look around the deserted apartment. The two of you have barely left before today and since the trip to Uljin, so it makes everything feel even more strange. The bedroom is cold, and you’re glad. Hopefully it stays that way for his guest, and it moves things along quickly.

You look around for yourself in the room…your clothes—you left the shirt you wore last night on the floor, but it’s technically his and isn’t out of place. Your bedside table is mostly bare, save for the end of your phone charger and a single necklace you haven’t worn in weeks. You open the drawer and drop it inside. There isn’t much of you in here, and it took until now for you to notice.

Next, you check his drawer. Everything is neat and exactly where it should be.

Seungmin feels out of practice. He’s gone this long without plenty of times, but he at least had most of the voices pushing him forward during his lull. Everything was silent this time; the spaces in his head were filled with your voice, and filled with thoughts about you if he let it wander long enough. They were filled with sex—good sex, the kind of sex he doesn’t get from his victims, and the butterflies you give him when you look at him as he wakes up every morning. But he can’t think about that right now. He needs to focus. He can’t think about the way you make love to him when he needs it. The way you actually love him.

“Are you following me?” The girl turns and asks, but there’s obvious flirtation in her voice. One hand, the one not holding her bag of food, lands on her hip.

His focus came a few steps late. “Following you? No. What makes you think that?” Seungmin licks his lips and puts on his best charming smirk. “Just headed in the same direction.”

“Where’s the food you got? And the girl…that definitely wasn’t your sister.”

“It doesn’t matter. Are you in a hurry?”

“Well, I do have a bagful of food, but if you let me drop it off to my coworkers…I can slow down for you.”

“I’d like that”

/ / /

He was a little worried you would put up a fight about returning home without him just to leave again, but the apartment is empty when he brings his guest inside.

“This is your apartment? You’re here all alone?” She takes off her coat, and Seungmin grabs it, taking a moment to get closer. He catches her eye, and then the scent of something sickeningly sweet…too much perfume. “No girlfriend?”

“Just us”

“Good, let’s get you out of jacket so I can get a good look at you”

Seungmin obliges and pulls at the zipper, and he’s thankful when he finally feels the blood moving to his dick. As soon as it’s over his head, her hands are on him, sliding across his stomach as his tshirt is pulled up, and he has to shut his eyes as she pulls him closer.

“Where should we take this?”

The touch is overwhelming. It’s like static as her hands slide up his bare chest. It’s off of him, and they close around his neck as she leans in—tall enough to get to him without Seungmin accommodating, and she puts her mouth on his. More static, and the taste of something sour.

“No,” he pushes her back, “don’t kiss me.”

“Damn…sorry”

“Everything else is fine”

“Are you sure?”

He wipes his lips, “yes,” and runs a hand down his dick, because he can feel himself losing momentum. “Take your clothes off.”

“You’re not gonna take em off for me?” She takes a step closer and touches his chest, his stomach, and her hand slides under his waistband. “You wanted this. Don’t you wanna touch me? Oh…”

“Yeah,” Seungmin grabs her arm, but she keeps her hand closed around him.

“Nervous?”

No, he doesn’t get nervous. Whatever he’s feeling is something else. Something he hasn’t dealt with before, at least not to this extent. He’s distracted, just like the day he met you and tried to make up for it with a quick kill—when you sent him that text thanking him for his kindness. “Take your clothes off.” He closes his eyes, moans it as her hand moves up and down his length, over and over, and he feels his dick growing again.

“I will,” she pulls Seungmin closer. “I want this. You gonna give it to me?”

Eyes still closed, he lets himself enjoy the slow, firm movements of her hand. “Yeah, I’m gonna…”

“Where’s the bedroom?”

“The bedroom?”

“Take me to your bed and fuck me. Isn’t that why I’m here?”

His legs shake as she frees him, and then she’s gone…looking for the bedroom herself, maybe. The first door she tries isn’t it—she flicks the bathroom light off and on a few times before slamming the door shut. Seungmin follows as she heads for the right one.

“Wow, this is cozy”

It is, Seungmin thinks, because you made it that way. The lamp on his side of the bed is clicked on, and the one on his dresser is as well. The lights around the bookcase are casting a warm glow on everything; the books and records, the music box, the flowers. The pillows are fluffed up and arranged in a way Seungmin never did it—a little chaotic, but still neat. And the bedspread is pulled down and out of the way. It wasn’t like that before the two of you left this morning.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says, and he’s relieved when she finally starts stripping off her clothes. But then she heads toward the far side of the bed. “Over here.”

“Other side? Picky…” her pants drop to the floor and she sits, not so patiently waiting for him to come closer.

Time to stop fucking around and get things moving. He doesn’t want to leave you waiting somewhere longer than he has to—Seungmin didn’t want to do it at all, but there was no other choice. “I am picky. Take those off.” He heads to his drawer, and from the corner of his eye he sees her move up the bed and toss her panties to the floor. Right next to your tshirt. He bends to pick it and sets in neatly on the table as he slides it open.

“Where…what the hell?” He mumbles.

“What’s wrong? Please don’t tell me you’re out of condoms.”

There’s one left, and he quickly closes the drawer after grabbing it and the lube. “No, I’m not.”

“Good, get over here and let me look at you.” By you, she means his dick, still trapped in his sweatpants.

He slides them down his hips, just enough to pull himself out and stroke to get back to one hundred percent. No matter where he lets his mind wander, he can’t keep himself hard, and it’s beginning to piss him off. If he can’t use his anger right here, right now, then what’s the point? Maybe he can’t do this right anymore, either. Instead of letting his mind wander, he tries to shut it down to nothing; darkness, black…no, the white noise of an old television set. The fuzzy hum fills his ears as he goes for her, crawls on the bed, and pulls her thighs apart.

“That’s much better,” she says in her best seductive voice.

Shut up, he screams in his head. The relief of pushing his dick in makes him lose control immediately. He slides in without a single tease, and without much effort. Her cries of surprise and pleasure wipe out the static and he hears nothing but her. He hates it. He slams in harder, getting himself close as quickly as he can manage, but he can’t seem to get anything in return.

His hand works his way up, resting on her stomach as he fucks her, then to her chest where he can feel the shake of her screams and moans. Finally, it lands on her neck and it wraps around it with no protest from her. He squeezes, but not enough to scare her, because he hasn’t decided yet how long he wants to work to reach his orgasm…but there’s nothing. He forces a moan when their eyes connect, but it’s all he can force himself to do.

Tighter. Still, she reaches out only to touch him; his stomach, his hips as they roll back and forth. His arms. One hand grips his wrist, and the other holds onto the forearm flexing as his fingers squeeze even more.

“Okay…let go,” she croaks and smacks his arm.

Seungmin doesn’t let go, but his mind goes to tv static again.

“Let go!” She pushes her nails in, and it stings, but still he continues…and then something hits hard against his hip, and it burns and almost knocks him backward. Her kick somehow lands perfectly.

Fuck, his mind turns back on. He sees her scrambling to her feet and off the bed as he drops to all fours. “Fuck…”

Just as he turns and gets to his feet, she reaches for the doorknob and the door swings open. Again, he forgot to lock it. If he didn’t lock the front door…he’s close behind, but not close enough. Her hand is on the knob, it turns freely—and then you’re there.

You stand blank-faced at the threshold, and the girl stops in her tracks when she realizes she’s trapped. But Seungmin feels his heart drop at the thought of you being in the line of fire.

“What the fuck, both of you?”

She takes a few steps back. Seungmin can’t figure out why, because you’re smaller, and probably not much of a challenge to get through. It’s then that he sees the glint of his missing knife, gripped tightly in your fist.

“Okay,” Seungmin says softly. Now what? This is not where he expected the day to go, and his mind is racing as he tries to picture where it’s going to end. The girl is frozen, terrified at which way to turn; Seungmin’s hands, or your knife; his knife, his hilt digging into your soft, innocent fingers. He steps to the right and finds your eyes, but you don’t look at him. And he can’t tell you to drop it, because if you do, she’ll run, and she might make it out if this building with a story.

“Please,” the girl begs.

Seungmin wonders if she’s thinking of taking her chances and pushing through.

“No.” Your voice is so soft, but he hears it.

“Nae salang…” do you even know what that means? Seungmin isn’t sure, but he saw your notebook full of Hangul practice; his name written over and over, pages full of 김승민, 안녕하세요, 사랑해요, your name, his name and your name together like a lovesick teenager. He didn’t know how to feel when he saw it because it seemed so private, but you weren’t hiding it from him. Thinking back to it now gives him that familiar feeling in his stomach.

You look at him for just a moment before your eyes move back to the girl, and you take a step over the threshold. She moves back, too, and Seungmin takes a cautious step to the side.

“Please don’t.” Now Seungmin begs—he begs you not to do what he sees happening in your eyes. “Close the door, and give me the knife.”

You shake your head, and Seungmin sees the tears brimming in your eyes.

“Please don’t unlock that part of you…it’s too much. It only feels good for a moment.”

“Minnie…”

“Yes, love?” He watches your knuckles stretch and your forearm flex. His heart pounds, but his stomach swirls and his cock fills with blood again no matter how hard he tries to calm himself. The sight of you standing there wielding his knife—it’s the same feeling he gets when it’s in his hands.

“It's too late for that”

His body shakes. His mind goes back and forth between the static and his clear view of you, the tears running freely down your cheeks. Have you really been here before? Is that why you came back to him?

Seungmin sees you move, and he hears the familiar sound of knife against flesh. The blade disappears into the girls chest, right between her ribs, and she falls to her knees as she gasps for air. You finally let go and take a step back to watch the aftermath of what you’ve done.

The gasps slow down and quiet as she lets herself collapse to the floor. Blood trickles onto the hardwood, but not much…you left the blade in place, and that’s slowing things down. Seungmin watches you watching the body, and he’s getting dizzy from his pulsing erection.

“Seungmin?”

He almost falls to his knees when you look at him, but he forces himself to move—one step, another step around the almost lifeless body. He slams the door shut and grabs your throat, guides your blank stare upward. Your eyes soften when they meet his.

“What have you done?” He whispers and kisses the corner of your lips. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry”

“No.” He kisses you fully, and brings you close enough to feel every aching inch. The grip on your neck tightens, he can’t help it. “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Yes”

“You heard everything?”

“Yes, but I couldn’t take hearing you in the bedroom…so I went out in the hallway…”

Seungmin is patient as you begin to sob quietly, and he frees you to hide against his chest. He has to be grateful that you didn’t leave, and that you were exactly where he needed you right outside the front door. “Why did you have my knife?” With his knife in hand, no less. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been much of a challenge. Right? Maybe he’s underestimating you. “Were you planning something else?”

You take a deep, shakey breath and he pulls you away from him. “I’m not sure."

“You wanted to kill her…even if she hadn’t almost escaped, you still would have done it.”

“I would have tried ”

“You succeeded,” he looks at the now lifeless body at their feet, and his hand finds your neck again. “And you have a lot of explaining to do,” Seungmin kisses again, working his tongue to the back of your throat as his free hand starts undressing you, “but not right now.”

You both nearly trip on your way to the bedroom, first coming through the door, and then again on the discarded jeans of your victim. The yelp down Seungmin’s throat doesn’t deter him from his kissing, but you pull away and look at what you stepped on.

“We’ll take care of it afterward…I will.” Seungmin is not worried about the disposal right now, even as blood slowly drips onto the living room floor, and text after text pops up on the dead girls phone. “I need you, now.”

You’re flat on your back, eyes on the ceiling, and Seungmin’s hands work quickly. His mouth works slowly, and his tongue moves just how he knows you like it. He takes his time with you, slowing down even more when your hands reach for him, and your fingers comb through his hair and pull. Seungmin takes your hand and gives you what you were stupidly afraid the dead girl would get—his hunger, and his overwhelming need for you. Seungmin doesn’t let go until you come, and you wait for more, because he always wants more, but this time he works his way up until he can kiss you on the lips.

“So,” he mumbles against your cheek, leaving little kisses as he goes. It’s not something you’re used to getting from him. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay, Minnie”

“You can tell me”

“Tell you…”

“Anything you think I should know.” One more kiss and he’s up, heading for the door. “You can’t just be okay after this.”

Maybe he’s right. No, he is right, but you still don’t know how to start, or where to start. What you do know is that this is now partially your responsibility—the clean up, and getting rid of the evidence. Seungmin said he would do it, but he probably wouldn’t have made this much of a mess if you had listened to him. You snatch up her clothes, the panties and the jeans, and her phone slips from the back pocket and onto the floor. The phone…how does Seungmin get rid of the phones, and does he not worry about them getting tracked? He hasn’t been caught, so he must be doing something about it.

There’s a long string of notifications on the screen, mostly text messages, and all from the same person.

“Seungmin?”

He’s busy laying out a piece of thick plastic drop cloth, but he smiles sweetly when he looks up at you. “Yeah?”

“What do you do about the phones?”

He reaches for it, and as soon as his eyes scan over the messages, his face changes for just a moment. He scrolls through, and to his surprise, there’s no passcode. A few moments later… “I need another favor, a very big favor.”

“Yeah?”

“Pack a bag, bring whatever you might need…but not much. Start one for me, too.”

At first, you just nod. His voice is so calm, and nothing about his body language suggests you should be questioning his request. “Yeah, okay…”

Seungmin didn’t say to hurry, but you do anyway. And take what you might need? It depends on where you’re headed…his medicine, clothes, obviously. Oh, the clothes. You take the girls clothes to Seungmin, because the gears are starting to turn in your brain, finally. After that massive surge of adrenaline, and then coming down from your orgasm, your mind is in a strange, untrustworthy place…but you’re getting there. Every piece of damning evidence needs to be collected and destroyed, now, and there may not be that much time. What was it he read on the phone notifications?

You start packing faster, and start another bag for him. Eventually, you stop and scan the room, knowing you’re forgetting something.

“Oh, we need you…” you head for the bookshelf and scoop up the music box, opening it and swiping a few loose petals before you wrap it and shove it in your own bag. His drawer—it can’t stay, but is he bringing it along? You don’t bother him with the question, you just find a small box to throw everything in and add it to the growing pile.

Does Seungmin have anything else in the room? As far as you know, the drawer is where everything goes, but the minute you stop and think, you start to hear your heart pounding in your chest and throat and ears. It’s so loud. But you feel calm, despite it, because Seungmin is calm. You grab more clothes from the closet, and scan every corner while you’re in there. If Seungmin wasn’t so organized, you wouldn’t even bother, but the neat stack of shoe boxes catches your attention. There really isn’t time for this, but a quick peak won’t hurt.

The one on the very top has something scribbled out, but underneath in black marker there’s more writing: 00-03. Inside are photographs, not organized in anyway aside from the years written on the box. The first one you pick out and look at is baby Seungmin in the arms of his mother, and on the back is Hangul you can’t read except for his name. You wonder if his father took the photo. The next one is him again, a little older, sitting in a man’s lap—his father, you can only assume. You leave them out and open the next box: 06-08. This one is much lighter. Inside is, again, Seungmin and mom. You add that to the others. The next one is a family portrait; Seungmin, his mother, and his stepfather. Nobody looks very happy. You decide to try one more, and you finally find one of just him…a close-up of his young face, seven years old according to the year written on the back. Same chubby cheeks, same big brown eyes, same sideways smirk. You keep that one, too, and put everything else back in its place.

The shuffle and drag of something against the living room floor makes you move faster. Seungmin is probably working as quickly as he can, so you need to be ready when he is. The last stop is the bathroom, and you watch him work for a moment as you walk by; he’s zipping up a suitcase identical to the one from before, and he glances at you before you look away.

“Are we ready?” He looks at the bag you packed for him, and only adds a few more things.

“I think so. Where are we going?”

“We’ll figure that out after we get rid of the body”

Seungmin is quiet and focused as he drives, and right now, you’re not headed in the direction you expected; east, toward Uljin. You’ve been driving north for half an hour, and you still haven’t spoken up and asked him exactly what happened, or if he figured out a destination.

He looks at you, though, because eventually, he feels you watching.

“Hey,” you say as softly as possible. You’re turned toward him, knees hugged to your chest, “Minnie?”

“You should put your seatbelt on…you’re making me nervous.” His hand reaches out, and his fingers slide from your ankle all the way to your toes.

“Is that what’s making you nervous?”

There’s nothing nervous about him, actually. Seungmin bit down on his lip once since you’ve been watching, sighed twice, and mumbled to himself twice, at least that you caught. Very normal for him. If he is, he’s keeping it together for your sake, and you hate that.

“Yeah, a little.” He smiles at you and licks his lips. “We’re almost there.”

“And then you’ll tell me what’s going on?”

“Yes. And you’ll tell me…whatever I need to know, I hope.”

The seatbelt clicks, “I will, I promise.”

“Did you bring my music box?” It just hit him. He grabbed a few things, and he even checked his drawer. You assumed he saw the empty spot on the bookshelf, but he may have forgotten. Just as you suspected, he looks calm, but he isn’t. His mind is moving much faster than he’s letting on.

“Yeah, it’s in my bag”

“Thank you”

“We’re not going back, are we?”

Seungmin doesn’t answer right away, because he comes to an intersection and turns, and then turns again into an almost empty parking lot. “I’m not sure.”

“The Jasmine…we’re staying here tonight?” It's nothing special, and it's not very big, but the vacancy sign is lit up in the office window. Seungmin got here without directions, so he must be familiar with it.

He looks at the building, sees the sign already glowing in the early twilight, and then his face falls. “I forgot your flowers.”

“My flowers? The forget-me-nots? That’s alright.”

“No, I got you something else, and I was waiting until I felt better to give it to you”

“What was it, what kind of flowers?”

“Moonflowers. I’ll find you more somewhere. Let’s get inside.”

/ / /

Thirty-five miles away from home isn’t very far, but the small town you ended up in feels safe enough for the night. The man that checked you in hardly looked up from his book as Seungmin counted out enough money for two nights, just in case.

He withdrew a significant amount of cash before leaving Seoul, and brought even more that he had hidden even further back in his closet. Seeing such a large amount in one place was surreal, and sitting in the passenger seat putting the two separate amounts together for him was even more bizarre. You did your best counting it, writing it down, adding it up…

“Twenty-six million won…how much is that in American money?”

“I’m not sure,” he laughs and watches as you carefully sort the last few paper-clipped bundles. “Around twenty thousand maybe.” Seungmin smiles and laughs so easily, and it doesn’t seem the time for it.

“Definitely more than I’ve ever had at one time...maybe ever“

“Well now you have it, it’s all yours”

The room is small, about the size of Seungmin’s bedroom, but it’s clean and warm, and you don’t really care where you are as long as it’s with him.

“You packed a lot”

“Did I? It didn’t seem like much at the time…sorry”

“It’s alright. Maybe we just have a lot of important things.”

You unzip the biggest bag first and dig around, “that must be it,” pull out Daengmo, and toss him to Seungmin. He was almost left behind, but luckily he caught your eye as you were headed out the door.

“I thought we forgot you”

The way he holds him and looks at him reminds you of the little boy in the photograph—happy for the moment, comforted by his friend, and maybe a few good memories…but he can never quite hide the sadness in his eyes.

“Minnie?”

His mouth squishes to the side, and he looks even more like his seven year old self. Even the haircut matches. “Yeah?” The words get stuck in your throat when he looks from Daengmo to you. “I know, we have a lot to talk about—“

“No. I mean, yeah I know. I just wanted to tell you again, that I love you.”

“Still?” He smirks. “You sure?”

“I’m sure.” If he says it back, you’ll feel better, lighter. You just want to hear it again.

Seungmin doesn’t speak right away. He falls back on the bed, and you can hear him sigh. “I don’t want you to get hurt if something happens. It’s not fair. None of this is your fault.”

What is he talking about? You were the one holding the knife when it pierced the girls heart, not him, and that’s exactly how you wanted things to play out. He picked her, yeah, and he fully intended to do what you did, but something happened, and you got your chance.

He sits up again. “I’ve never had to protect anyone but myself.”

“I know I’m safe with you, Minnie”

You watch as he hears the words, takes them in, understands them. Maybe it’s like saying I love you to him again…maybe better.

He joins you on the floor and crawls closer, “I hope so.”

“I am”

He sets his lips against your shoulder, “I love you, too.” It’s just a mumble—barely enough to make out, but you hear it.

Seungmin waits a few moments, feels your lips on the top of his head. He knows it’s time to explain the situation to you, and then you have to explain yourself to him.

“You should eat before we talk”

The forgotten galbijjim is replaced, and Seungmin smiles sweetly as he watches you take your first spoonful of rice. “This looks better than the place we bought from earlier." It gives you butterflies, his still hesitant smile. "Are we sharing? Did you just get one bowl?"

"I'm not hungry"

You stare at him and wait for more of an explanation, but he just sits silently. Not having an appetite makes sense, and you can't really blame him. You shouldn't have much of one either, but you do, and you plan on feeding it.

"You haven't eaten in a while, Minnie. I'd feel better if you had some."

He just shakes his head and changes the subject. “The phone. The notifications. They read like a friend checking in on her, and then worrying when there was no reply, which is bad enough, because I usually manage to get rid of the phone before we get anywhere near the apartment. Not every time, though, and if I do and they notice it’s missing, they freak out and leave to look for it.”

He pauses and seems to gather more of his thoughts, and maybe give you a chance to say something.

“So you forgot to take her phone?”

Seungmin nods and takes a drink of his coffee. “I fucked up the whole thing before I even got started. My head was not in the right place to do this, but I thought it was what I needed. I was stupid and selfish."

The two of you stare at each other, and it feels like he’s trying to tell you more without opening his mouth—something he doesn’t want to say out loud, but his acknowledgment that it was a mistake from the start is a relief. He seems to be out of that fog that had him gripped so tight for days.

“She was sharing her location the whole time…to the same friend who was texting her. So the phone is gone and burned up with everything else, but the damage was done as soon as I let her in.”

“Seungmin, this is bad”

He sets his mug down, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…I may have ruined everything. The girl will be reported missing, and the friend will have some information about the guy who took her back to his apartment. I’m sure they’ll find some evidence I left behind, and if we’re lucky—”

“Minnie…”

“If we’re lucky, we’ll have a little more time together before my face is all over the news.”

“And if that doesn’t happen? If they don’t find evidence, or a body…or find you, if they even manage to come to that conclusion? The location she was sharing won’t be the apartment, it will be the building…and it’s a big building.”

“I like how practical you are, even now…yes, there are sixty-two occupied apartments in the building.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

Seungmin laughs and picks up his coffee again. “I own the building. I guess I never mentioned that.”

You’re surprised he still has any sense of humor, considering how worried he revealed himself to be. “No, you didn’t. That explains a few things, and might complicate them, too.”

“I know. They’ll look for me because I have everyone’s information, and I won’t be there, which might be suspicious.”

“Maybe, maybe not. Going out of town isn’t evidence for murder. I tried to clear out anything that would be suspicious—the drawer, the ten boxes of hair dye. You may have had other things I wasn’t aware of, though.”

“No, the drawer was the worst of it…that was everything”

The memory of finding your ear cuff in his drawer pops into your head. You probably threw it in the box with everything else without realizing. “You don’t keep trophies?”

“No, I don’t. If anything gets left behind,” he thinks back to the silver hoop earring dropped on the floor, “it’s because I messed up. I have no desire to remember them after they served their purpose—what?”

You’re grinning at him, and you don’t even realize it. Seungmin charms you, if you can call it charm, with little effort, and without even realizing it. “I like your brain. And learning more about you every day.

“You like my damaged brain?”

“I love your damaged brain”

“That’s a first”

“I'm sure another one of your victims was hoping for a second date before the first one ended abruptly"

"Like you?"

"Yeah, exactly like me"

Seungmin has to think. How many people does he have to think backward through; two dozen? More?"

“I have taken people out on real dates before…before taking them back. Sometimes it seemed like they were genuinely interested in me, but I never got the impression that those feelings stuck around.”

“Why not?”

“Mm, there was a girl I brought back to the apartment a few years ago. She was nice, even though I assumed the whole time we were both working toward one thing. But she seemed kind, and when we got to the apartment, she told me how badly she wanted to meet someone and develop something real, and that she was tired of being alone. Tired of dating apps and first dates, that's exactly what she said, and I don't know why I still remember that."

“So what happened?”

He returns to his silence, but you know there’s more to his story. The memory is returning to him slowly. “We got to the bedroom, and everything seemed to be going well, but then she saw Daengmo,” he turns and looks at him sitting on the bed, “and she laughed…asked me why I had that on my bed.” He sighs deeply, “she made me feel stupid.”

You remember the first time Seungmin took you to his room, and how out of place his little dog looked. The mood of almost everything in his apartment is grown-up and dark, except for a few things—Daengmo being one of them. But asking him about it was the furthest thing from your mind, especially the second time you ended up in his room.

“We didn’t get any further than that”

“You let her go?”

Seungmin shakes his head, “I’ve never let anyone go,” then smiles at you. “Did I seem weird? My apartment, and me…you left in such a hurry the first time. You must have thought something was off. Or thought I was off.”

Sort of, you think to yourself.

“Oh, you did call me weird. I remember now.”

Should you tell him what went through your mind on your first visit? “No, not you…your patience with me is what was weird.” Something tells you he can handle it, at least if it’s coming from you. “The expensive apartment was a little odd, only because I could tell you were young. But yeah, I did always assume something was off about you—the way you looked at me and touched me when we sat on the couch, I wondered if I was over-looking something. I wanted you—I wanted your attention, and your touch. That’s why I ran.”

“Because I was giving you attention?”

You nod.

“You seem to think so little of yourself…why?”

It’s hard to put into words, and it’s so much to dive into. Seungmin is going to want to know more—he’ll have questions, certainly more tonight than he had this morning. But you believe he’ll understand what you have to say more than anyone else you’ve ever spoken to, and that’s a comfort you’ve never imagined. “I was tolerated by everyone my entire life.”

“Tolerated?” He rolls the word around in his mouth and his head. His English is almost perfect, but some words are just not in his vocabulary.

“I was cared for, but nobody really cared about me.” You speak as simply as possible, but you’re sure he’ll understand. “I was fed, sent to school, had somewhere to sleep, but there was nothing else. No bedtime stories, and no help with my homework. No advice or comfort when I came home with a black eye from a playground fight.”

“Nobody loved you?"

“They may have, sometimes. It could be that I’m just forgetting…but when I think I remember something, it was because my sister was there with me.”

“She took it all?”

Spilling everything to him is easy. Every time you think you should stop for fear of scaring him off, you catch him looking at you with a warmth he probably doesn’t realize he has in him. “It wasn’t her fault. It was given to her. If they gave it to me, I would have taken it all, too.” And you remember exactly who he is, and how far away you are from scaring him.

“I’m worried I won’t always have enough in me”

"Enough?"

“Love. I’ll give you all I have, I promise.”

/ / /

Seungmin watches as you slowly dig through your bag. He’s grateful for how much you actually managed to pack so quickly and so well, because he already misses being home. You pull out one of his old t-shirts and hold it to your chest, and then find another small bag holding the contents of your important nighttime ritual.

“Shower? That will help you feel better.” He feels your kiss hit the top of his head, and a wave of pleasure travels all the way through him.

“Much better if you join me”

“I’ll grab my stuff…I’ll be in”

Now it’s his turn to dig around his bag, except he has no idea what you packed and where you put it. He pulls out his pill bottles and sets them somewhere he won’t forget them. Whether he’s adjusting to them or not is still a mystery, but if today is any indication…probably not. He’s been in a fog most of his time awake since restarting them. He's been seeing things far more frequently, and his dreams are still as intense as they've ever been.

The bathroom door is cracked and Seungmin can see the steam already starting to swirl out. You aren’t in the shower yet, though. You’re partially undressed, crouched down, back against the wall across from the sink.

“What’s wrong?” Seungmin’s drops to your level and his hands cup your face, but he doesn’t move you. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and then relax, over and over until he says your name. And they finally open. “What happened?”

“Just dizzy. I’m okay now, I think.”

“Do you feel sick?”

“I get vertigo when I’m anxious, and sick in the stomach from both. It’ll go away.”

He turns the hot water down, and you’re already attempting to stand before he can get to you again. “Please let me help you—hold onto me.”

“You gonna hold me in the shower, too?” You smile and squeeze your arms around him, but the dizzy feeling has mostly passed.

“Yes, if you need me to. I’m sorry you don’t feel well. I’m going to fix this, and I’ll get us back home."

somewhere in the middle of the forest, pine trees on every side, and up…he can hardly see the sky through the mist and crowded treetops. he doesn’t know where he is, this scene is new. if it wasn’t so unsettling, it’d be beautiful. but seungmin doesn’t get scared so easily…no, He’s not around this time to scare him. but someone is getting closer. footsteps crunch across the thick, cold forest floor. someTHING, maybe. the steps are off and far too light to be a person.

a black cloud bounces in the corner of his eye. and then again on the opposite side

crunch crunch

but it’s so loud. snowflakes start dancing in front of him. no, not snowflakes…what is this? the dead remnants of a distant fire.

scratch scratch

fingers…claws, digging into the bark

His eyes open, slowly and calmly. No pounding heart; no tears; no sweat rolling from his neck and forehead. It’s quiet for a moment and the only thing he hears is the tick of the old alarm clock. Seungmin wonders how you fell asleep with that sound in your ears.

scratch scratch

The door moves ever so slightly. The loose doorknob shakes. Two scratches, and then three. Over and over. He thinks he hears a whimper. Maybe he’s still asleep. Seungmin reaches back and squeezes your hip. He’s relieved to feel you shift and turn and wrap around him.

“I thought you were asleep,” you whisper and settle against his curled up body. “Bad dream?”

“Did you hear that?”

You stay quiet for a few seconds and listen. “No, what—“

scratch scratch

“That”

“I don’t hear anything”

Seungmin sits up, and your hands fall away from him. “You don’t hear it?” But he’s going for the door before you can answer him. “That scratching?”

Again, you listen and hold your breath, but nothing happens—no sounds, no scratching anywhere in the room. Seungmin is hearing something that isn’t there. You watch as he listens carefully, inches from the door, hand flat against it. The muscles in his neck and back tense as he goes for the lock, and then the knob, and he turns it so slowly.

There's nothing, but your heart still pounds like crazy because Seungmin is so sure something will be on the other side. He stops and releases it, turns to look at you, and he seems confused; tired, sad, and very confused.

“I think it’s gone, whatever it was”

Before you can respond, his hand grabs the knob and swings the door open. And nothing is there. Seungmin is standing alone in the empty doorway, and he steps out into the dark until you can’t see him.

“Minnie?” You really don’t want to get up and go after him, but you will. “Seungmin, please come back to bed.” Just as you throw the blankets off, you hear the creak of his footsteps in the hallway, and it’s hard to tell if they’re getting closer, or further away. He doesn’t reappear, though.

“Seungmin?” It’s so dark. It’s impossibly dark, even though it’s nearly dawn, and you don’t even feel his presence out here. Where could he have gone? He wouldn’t leave you by yourself with the door wide open and unlocked. “Please, Min—” the floor creaks again, as if someone is putting their weight down gently. Now you feel him there, and the outline of him slowly comes into view. “Hey, you’re scaring me…say something.”

He reaches out and grabs you, or someone does. It looks like his hand, but everything feels wrong. It squeezes your wrist and pulls you, and you’re face to face with something else—something that isn’t quite Seungmin. This isn’t who you just woke up next to. Two angry eyes stare you down, and lips pull back from its teeth before you manage to pull your arm free, but you lose your balance and fall backwards.

“I’m here, open your eyes...look at me…that’s better”

Everything is a blur, but you keep your eyes open and blink until he’s finally there. It’s really him…

“Hey, good morning”

It’s his brown eyes, big and full of worry, his pretty smile, and his messy morning hair. That horrible face won’t go away, though. It’s burned into your mind.

“Morning?”

Seungmin nods and comes down to kiss your forehead. “Yeah, we made it through the night. Bad dream?”

“Yeah. Strange one. Did you wake me up last night?”

He tucks you back under the blankets and curls up next to you, “no, I slept through the night for a change. I had a dream, but it wasn’t my usual one.”

“So you didn’t hear anything last night?" It's the second thing you remember after that face; Seungmin, if he were truly a monster. "Scratching?” You’re floating, suddenly…the room warms, or you do. Yeah, it’s you. A cold sweat starts as you force yourself up, and now your stomach spins. “I have to—”

“What? You have to what?” His hand touches your cheek. “You’re cold.”

Both feet touch the ground, but your legs won’t hold you up. He makes it to you quickly, and his arms wrap around you as you sit there doubled over in pain. All Seungmin can do is wait and listen to you quietly cry—there aren’t many people in the hotel, but it’s not empty. You can’t risk the attention.

"What can I do?"

"It's okay...it'll pass"

"I can get you to a hospital. Last night, and now your stomach."

“We can’t go to hospital, we don’t even know if they’re looking for you”

Seungmin knows you’re right, but he’s avoided checking any sort of news because he doesn’t want his world to truly come crashing down on him yet. “Can you look at me? At least let me get you back into bed.”

You sit up slowly, and he’s right there steadying you, hands on your shoulders. He doesn’t want to tell you how worried he really is. Seungmin thinks he’s done a great job so far of keeping himself and you calm, but he knows this isn’t going to go away so easily. “Where does it hurt?"

Everywhere, you think. You take his hand and spread it out right above your belly button. And then you slide it down below it. He pushes a little and the whimper catches in your throat.

“Let me know if it gets worse, or better.” His hand moves to your forehead, cold and covered in sweat. “I think it’s time we checked the news.”

/ / /

There’s not much you can do aside from observe until the pain eases up, and it doesn’t feel like it’s going anywhere. It gives you time to dwell on the dream, and the dream within the dream. Were you inside of his? “Where are you checking?”

Seungmin finds and turns on his phone for the first time since you left yesterday. “A few local news sites, social media. Looking on Twitter would be easier if I had gotten a name.”

“Is there anyone in your building you trust enough to talk to and ask if anything strange happened?”

Something hits him—some clarity, the sudden realization that his mind has been moving so fast it’s made him overlook the most obvious solution. “The security cameras.”

“You have cameras up?”

“I’m required to have them at every entrance and exit, but I turn them off as needed. That’s the only thing I didn’t fuck up yesterday.” He’s back on his phone, typing, and then watching silently. “Did you bring your laptop?”

Now you can clearly see what he sees—the screen is split into four separate camera feeds, and the quality is surprisingly good. Seungmin turned the cameras off when he escorted the girl into the building, but he forgot to turn them off again after that. At 50x speed, he watches the main entrance, the side and back exit, and the elevator starting around the time the two of you snuck out the back.

Twenty hours of footage...tenants coming and going, and you assume Seungmin recognizes the faces that are supposed to be in and out. His eyes don’t leave the screen, and you keep quiet and let him watch. Three hours of footage later, he pauses it to rest his eyes.

“Nothing strange yet?”

“No, not that I can tell”

“You should eat something”

He shakes his head. “Maybe last nights food got you sick.”

“I didn’t eat very much”

Seungmin starts the footage again. Another three hours of almost nothing. “This doesn’t make sense. Did her friend not report her missing?”

“Maybe the police didn't believe her. At least not six hours after.”

Another three hours. Nothing. “How is the pain?”

You flip onto your back and let his hand wander over your chest and stomach. “A little better.”

“Good”

Three more hours. Seungmin picks up the speed between midnight and sunrise, and then slows it down again—9 am, 10, 11…nothing out of the ordinary. He switches to the live feed, and still nothing.

“So the apartment is safe for now”

“For now. We’re not going back yet, unless you start feeling worse.”

“Are we staying here?”

scratch scratch

Despite the pain, you push yourself up and look at the door. Did you actually hear that? Seungmin doesn’t move, so he obviously didn’t. You definitely heard it, and it sounds just like it did in your dream.

“We can stay another night, or we can find a new place on the way to Uljin”

The live feed still has his attention when you turn and set your feet on the carpet, and this time, your legs hold you up. Pain shoots from your belly button to your chest, and then back down, but you try to breathe through it.

“Where are you going? Get back in bed”

“You didn’t hear that?” You reach the door and open it, and the hallway is empty…just like your dream. “Let’s stay somewhere else.”

Now you head east, and you drive much longer this time. Seungmin’s gaze falls on you every few minutes for the entire first hour, but he stays silent until you get to the new destination. Wherever you are, surrounded by mountains…it’s nice.

“Where are we now?”

“Hongcheon”

“Dal…”

Seungmin looks at you, and waits patiently as you attempt to read the Hangul on the motel sign.

“Oh, double k…g. Dalkkum?”

“Very good...Dalkkum.” He says it properly, and it sounds pretty coming from his mouth.

“Dal means moon, right?”

“I’m not surprised you remember that, yes. Dalkkum means moon dream.”

“That’s nice. We should stay here for a while, I like it.”

He turns the engine off and sighs, but it’s a good sigh; one of relief, and a little bit of satisfaction. The lack of activity at the apartment may have put his mind at ease, but you both know it's still too early to truly relax. “Yeah, we can stay more than one night if you want”

The pain in your stomach is mostly gone, so maybe you can convince Seungmin to go on a walk around town. It’s cold, but the fresh air might be good for both of you. “Can we get kimbap?”

“Yeah, whatever you want”

“Cheesy kimbap?”

“Yes, I will eat if we get cheese kimbap”

/ / /

The sun is warm, and Seungmin doesn’t mind the walk, but he eventually drags you and the food to a nearby bench. He checks the bag, and you can tell he’s taking in the smell. “Are you comfortable here, or should we head back to the motel?”

“We should eat it now, while it’s fresh”

“And can we talk?”

“Talk?”

He clears his throat, fidgets a little. Seungmin actually seems a little nervous now, but he unbags all of the food and separates it before continuing. “Yes…about what happened, and what you said.”

“Oh, right”

Seungmin jumps in before you can change the subject. “You said I already have. What exactly did you mean…that you were ready to do it, or that you’ve done it before?”

This is what you’ve been ruminating on for weeks—from the moment you came back in his bed, and tried to escape. When he let you go, and when you couldn’t stop thinking about him even though he should have been far behind you, and quickly getting further and further away. Seungmin kept catching you in your own thoughts, and in your dreams. You went looking for him, and it worked—he still wanted you just the same as you wanted him. He’s been wondering why, you assume...wondering why you want to be close to him, but he’s stopped pushing the question. That’s good, because you still don’t have an answer.

“It’s hard to talk about. I’ve never spoken about it to anyone, ever, and I never expected to. I had planned on taking this to my grave.”

“I understand. You’ve kind of answered my question, so if it's too difficult, you don’t have to."

“No, I do. This is something I need to say, and it’s something I need to give to you."

“It must be too heavy to carry around all by yourself”

You nod as Seungmin lifts a bite of food up to your mouth, and you can’t help but smile when he does. It seems like his way of putting you at ease. “Yeah, but also…” you let him feed you, and then he takes his own bite. It’s a relief to see him eating, finally, after three days. “It’s something you deserve to know.”

“Who did you kill?”

The question, asked so bluntly, throws you back in time. You stand in your living room, bare feet on the dirty floor, tv on and blaring in the corner. He’s sitting in front of you where he always does every single night, and you know in a few hours, he’ll do the same sick shit he does every Thursday night while your mother is at work.

“My dad”

“Your dad? You killed your father?” He sets his chopsticks down and stares at the food, and you wonder if this was too personal. Seungmin doesn’t know his victims, and you already know he was very close to his mother. His stepfather, no…but killing a parent is personal. Maybe you’re actually worse than he is. “When?” He’s looking at you again, but he’s looking at you the way he always looks at you when he’s not in a fog, or having a bad day—like he wants to kiss you.

“I was fourteen, so…almost twenty years ago”

“Fourteen? You were so young”

“I had to”

“I don’t doubt that…and we don’t have to get into it, unless talking about it will help”

“It is heavy to carry around, and sometimes the guilt catches up to me. But he was a very bad person.”

Seungmin finds your hand and squeezes it between his. “We are strangely similar, despite being a world away from each other our entire lives.”

“You don’t think I’m terrible for killing my father?”

“Are you forgetting who you’re talking to?

“No…but, it seems different. It's worse than killing a stranger.”

His stare goes straight through you, and you're so exposed again. Whatever is going on behind his eyes is locked up, though. You need to know what he's thinking about. “Let’s go back to the room and finish this. You’re getting cold.”