#i think he killed someone but like COME ON LOOK AT HIM HES SO SILLY | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

daengtokki · 20 hours ago

Text

part nine // serial killer!Kim Seungmin/afab reader

WC: 14.9k

RATING: mature/explicit/mdni—contains: monsters, murder, pregnancy, medication mention, dissociation, hospital scenes

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: just wanna say hi to my new followers and new deity readers ( ˶ˆ꒳ˆ˵ )

[ ML — DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST]

TAGS: @kkamismom12/ @r0tt1n/ @heluvschibi / @feckinbecky / @missystay / @seungluvr / @babrieeee / @curiouscocoabean / @feelikecinderella / @carpioassists / @soulsbbg / @san-axa0 / @vixensss / @keiizzx / @xyliskz / @reignessance / @velvetmoonlght / @ghostedgameplays / @pochaccochacco / @lashaemorow / @eastjonowhere

Seungmin opens his eyes to a bright blue sky, the tops of the pine trees, and an ache in his neck. There's the sound of birds singing, but otherwise; perfect, natural silence. It's nice for a moment, despite his pain, until the last several hours come flooding back to him, and his world crumbles all over again. He lets the tears fall freely down his cheeks as he struggles to sit up, and he wonders what he's going to do now that he's made it through the night.

All around him are tracks. Too many to count. There are so many circling him that he can't distinguish anything except the cloven hooves of a deer, so while he slept, he was visited by something other than the thing in the woods. "Why didn't you take me?" He asks in a shaky whisper. Nothing answers except the birds, but when he tries to stand, someone screams. An ear splitting, head splitting shriek brings him to his knees. “Stop! Stop!” Plugging his ears does nothing; it’s as if the sound is coming from inside of his head. “Please!” It stops suddenly. The scream doesn’t taper off or echo…it just stops, like it never even happened. When Seungmin looks around him, and despite being on his knees, head hanging low, he’s dizzy. All he wants to do is lay in the dirt and fall back asleep. He spreads his hands out in front of him, “what is that?” he asks himself, staring at his pale, goose-bump covered arms. He takes a closer look and sees the scratches; three of them on each limb, starting at his knuckles and not stopping until he gets to his elbows. They don’t hurt, and they’re not deep enough to bleed. “Did I do that?”

Seungmin’s ears start to ring, and the dizziness returns. He hears the footsteps behind him, and he’s only surprised by it being here now, in broad daylight. It had all night to come for him. The sound it makes is more terrifying than he ever imagined. He’s heard the growls, and the whispers, but never it speaking directly to him—Seungmin didn't even imagine it having a voice. It sounds like a strange attempt at his name, but how can he answer? How can he Ppossibly turn and face it?

“Who are you?” He doesn’t bother trying to hide his fear. Seungmin’s chest tightens, and his voice shakes. The smell of dirt and decay hits his nose. He has to hold back his urge to vomit as the stench gets stronger and stronger. “Please go away.”

you called for me

It’s inside of his head. He can feel it echoing through his brain.

face me

“I wanna go home”

you have no home

“Yes I do! I do have a home”

little stray, I’m all that’s left now…we are all that’s left

“I’m not alone, I’m not!” Seungmin thinks about his aunts, who he only met once when he was two. He doesn’t remember, of course, but umma talked about them sometimes. His father’s sisters. They must be like dad, even just a little. “Someone still wants me, right?”

don’t be silly

“No, they do!”

turn and face me, and I’ll consider letting you leave

Just one look. Besides, this is why he came out here in the first place—to be found by it, and to never face another day again. Seungmin rises to his feet and takes a few deeps breaths. He has to get it over with. He turns, and somehow, the smell becomes worse. It’s here…it’s really here. He’s seeing it with his own two eyes, ten feet away from him.

good boy

To Seungmin, it looks as if a piece of the forest came to life, started to rot, and this is the outcome. The smell matches the rest of it, and the cloven hooves match the tracks surrounding where he slept. A face like a bleached skull, and black pits where its eyes should be almost distract him from the red, shedding antlers. It doesn’t move. The creature stands motionless as it speaks from its nonexistent mouth. How could this not be real? Why would Seungmin’s mind create something so horrible just for him?

I won’t leave you alone

Seungmin doesn’t hesitate, and his legs don’t either. He runs until his chest burns, and his legs nearly give out…and then the bright reflection of the greenhouse comes into view. The grass is cool and damp against his skin; it’s a relief, but it’s still there, burned into his vision, and the smell still burns his nose.

“Somebody will want me”

“Well?”

Seungmin squints at the screen, looks at you, and then back to the strangely detailed image he’s seeing. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to see…them. That’s them.”

“Yes, the 3D ultrasound still surprises parents”

“Still a little creepy,” you mumble and widen your eyes at her.

The tech looks at you and nods, “they’ll be more like the babies you will hold in a month or so. They still need more time to gain weight.”

“They’re moving!” The images are jumpy, but every few seconds, there’s a slight change in position. Seungmin can’t take his eyes off of them.

“Twenty-two, almost twenty-three weeks is early for this scan, but they look healthy. And you have boys, one hundred percent certain.”

Seungmin laughs, and then pulls out his phone. “Do we get photos?”

You think he’s going to take his own, but he stops to read something instead. It’s Heecheol, judging by the little smirk on his face and the smile in his eyes. You wonder if they decided on a time to visit, and if Seungmin remembered to mention the pregnancy to him. There’s no hiding it anymore, and the spare room won’t be a spare room when he comes to stay. The nursery is painted (a color called mint chocolate chip that Seungmin picked out himself), partially decorated—though Seungmin had trouble choosing a theme. The twin bed is still there, and it’s comfortable. Much more comfortable than the couch.

“Yes, we’ll print some images for you”

***

A few moments ago he was sound asleep, but now you can feel his stare. Your eyes stay glued to your phone for a few more seconds—your mother is texting you for the second time since you’ve moved in with Seungmin, and you still haven’t told her much. Seungmin doesn’t exist in her world, and neither do Haneul and Haesung. In her mind, you’re still alone in your little apartment, working the job that pays you just enough to live and eat. You are still trying your best to learn Korean, but you haven’t been going to formal classes as often as you’d like, and not at all since you started showing.

Before any of that information comes out, you need to mentally prepare for a long phone call. And maybe her anger, for two reasons: depriving her of what will be her first grandchildren, and worst of all, not having grandchildren that look like her. But twenty-five weeks is well over halfway there, and part of you feels guilty about keeping things a secret. Now you move your eyes away from the screen, and his are there, just like you thought—big and round and dark. “What’s wrong, Minnie?” He blinks a few times, and his gaze drops away from you. “You were almost snoring a minute ago.”

“Was I?”

“Just a little bit…you’ve had a busy week”

“Who are you talking to?”

Him noticing and wondering isn’t a surprise, because you rarely text anyone but him, and one classmate who keeps asking when you’ll come to classes. You’ve considered texting her and maybe getting out of the house, but it hasn’t happened yet. It’s so much easier to stay home and keep up with your dramas, or lose yourself for a while in a video game with Seungmin. That’s a new favorite for you. “My mom.”

“Have you spoken to her much lately?”

“Nope. I have texted back and forth to my sister, just to let her know I was still alive…but mom never bothered to respond to anything until now.”

“Did you tell her?”

You shake your head as you read the next message that pops up.

I just don’t understand why you’re still there…you don’t have to be so far away from the only family and friends you have. You can come home anytime.

there’s more here for me than you’re aware of

okay, so tell me what’s so special about it there

“Not yet. I think that should be a phone call.”

“Do you think she’ll be unsupportive?”

“She’s always unsupportive.” The message thread disappears, and you pull up what you were looking at before she surprised you. “Do you like this?”

Seungmin takes your phone in hand and brings it closer to his face, but he still squints. “Snoopy! Snoopy in a bunny suit. He looks so soft…are there any other colors?”

“Mocha…and yellow. Everything else is sold out.”

“Get one of each”

“Maybe we forget about a theme, and just fill the nursery with cute things. You add them to your cart and click on more characters. “Pochacco?”

“Pochacco? Yeah, we can do more puppies.”

“Do you like Pochacco? I wasn’t expecting you to know your Sanrio characters.” Seungmin throws off the covers and heads for his closet. “Where you going?”

“I still have things you’ve never seen, I guess.” He opens the closet door and heads for the opposite corner of his photo boxes, and after a little bit of digging around, a few things come flying toward you: a small, soft Pochacco; Snoopy, floppy and worn out like Daengmo, and a small brown dog you don’t recognize. The last one comes a few moments later, and it’s the biggest one.

“Growlithe!”

“Umma got me a different puppy every year for my birthday. Daengmo was first, Snoopy was second.”

You can’t help but wonder which one came last, but you know better than to ask. “Puppies it is.”

Seungmin’s phone buzzes, and you see the text notification appear. You can’t read it, or the name—especially not upside down and from this distance, but as soon as he dives back into bed and scoops it up, you get an answer.

“Heecheol says he has the weekend off, Friday through Monday, but he can’t stay long. He has another nurse checking in on his umma while he’s away, though.”

“That’s good. Is he coming on Friday? That gives me some time to clean and get the room ready.”

“Friday morning, yes. The apartment is clean!”

“Not guest clean”

The voice of his aunt is stern and serious, but it doesn’t bother him. As much as she tries to make Seungmin listen, and he usually does, nothing quite compares to the steady, eerily calm voice of his late-stepfather. He stares down into the pocket of his glove as she speaks.

“Are you listening?”

“I’m listening”

“I’m not trying to sound so…”

“Mean?” Eun-ji, who looks almost identical to her sister, just thinner, answers for her. “Please remember what this boy has been through.”

She huffs, but nods in understanding. Four years with their mother and father was probably difficult enough, but it’s been barely four years since losing his mother. Now, he’s moving again. “I’m sure umma took good care of you, Seungmin, but she’s getting old, and just can’t keep up anymore.”

“She did…and I know. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? Why are you sorry?”

“You have to care for me now, but I’ll try to be as helpful as possible. I won’t be a burden.”

They look at each other and smile. Seungmin doesn’t understand why. He wrings his hands together as they look to him again. “We know you’re a very well-behaved boy, and you get good marks in school. And you play baseball, right?”

He nods.

“You like to read?”

“Yes”

“Well, I understand the high school has a baseball team you can try out for next year, and we have a very large library. It’s just a quick bus ride into town. Oh, what’s the matter?”

Seungmin’s legs start to shake, but he doesn’t know why. His chest tightens, and his eyes well with tears. He can’t stop himself. “Uhm…I—“

“There’s no need for tears, you’re safe here with us.” Eun-ji reaches out and takes his hand in hers. “We’ll take good care of you…Minnie? Is that what your umma called you?”

Seungmin nods and wipes his face with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Sometimes.”

“Come over here and sit with us”

He walks on his unsteady legs and squeezes between them on the couch. They smell nice, and Eun-ji still squeezes his hand gently. “I don’t know why I’m crying.”

“If it helps you feel better, you should cry. If someone told you to be ashamed of your tears, you can just forget what they said.”

Can he? Seungmin isn’t sure he can do that. Crying is a sign of weakness—that’s what his stepfather told him, even when he saw his tear-streaked, dirt-covered face when umma found him and brought him home. Crying is for babies and little girls. Is that what you are? A baby? A baby sulking around with his little stuffed dog. He’s been gone for years, and he still won’t leave him alone. Just like the monster promised. Both of them swirl endlessly in his brain, and he just wants to make it stop.

“Here, let me clean your glasses…Ji-woo will show you your new bedroom, and we’ll get you unpacked”

Friday morning comes, and you sit at the kitchen counter, wondering how you could possibly find the energy to finish…anything. Your body and your mind has run on caffeine since you were fifteen, and now you’re afraid to drink more than a few sips of coffee. It’s not just the thought of feeling nauseous, but it’s doing anything to could cause harm to them. You know in your brain that caffeine, a little bit, won’t hurt, but you still feel like you need to be perfect to keep them healthy.

“I’ll be back. His bus should be getting here soon…are you okay?”

“Bus? Oh, that must have been uncomfortable for him. I’ll finish getting his room ready.”

“Are you okay? You look sad.”

“Sad? No, Minnie, I’m not sad. I was just…thinking about coffee.”

Seungmin laughs, “coffee? You must really miss it. I can grab some decaf while I’m out. Maybe that will help the craving.” He brings you in for a kiss. “Stay off your feet. I’ll finish getting things ready when we get back.”

You listen, and as soon as he closes the door behind him, you grab your pillow, and Daengmo, and make yourself comfortable on the couch. Seungmin will be an hour at the very least, so you set an alarm just in case you doze off.

***

Any other day, the traffic wouldn’t be worth the fight, but Seungmin doesn’t want Heecheol on a city bus after a long bus ride. He drives the four miles there, and a half an hour later, he’s starting to feel nervous for no reason. The busy station does make him uneasy—he’s rarely around this many people at once. And he never has a reason to be here, so he’s unfamiliar with the layout. Eventually, after asking for directions twice, he figures out where he needs to be, and he waits. No text messages come through telling him he’s almost there, or that he’s arrived, but the trains are usually on time. He should be arriving in two minutes, according to the big clock above the schedule.

“Mo!”

Seungmin jumps and turns to face his friend’s big smile. “You’re early.” Heecheol gives him no time to react before he pulls him in for a hug. It’s a strange feeling. He’s grown used to holding you, and having your arms around him as he falls asleep, but this is different. Heecheol is taller; he’s strong, and Seungmin feels small in his embrace.

“Sorry it took…two months?”

“Two and a half.” But what is that compared to fifteen years?

He pulls away, but his hands fall to Seungmin’s shoulder. “It was hard picturing you grown up, even as I looked in the mirror and saw myself getting older. I kept thinking about that when you two left.”

Seungmin isn’t sure what to say, but he returns the smile. He doesn’t know how to tell Heecheol that his mind was lost for a very long time, and he didn’t think about him nearly as much as he should have—at least not until ten weeks ago. It never occurred to him that he was still being thought about as he struggled through his school years, just from very far away.

“But we should get out of here, it’s getting even busier”

“Right, I’m parked not far from the entrance…I just,” he stops. Seungmin had more than enough chances to tell him, but he kept putting it off. “I have to stop for some coffee before we head back.”

“I haven’t been to Seoul since I flew home last year. City life is already lost on me, even after Charlotte. But that doesn’t compare to this.”

“It’s smaller there?”

“Much smaller, less people. Do you like it here?”

“It’s okay. I don’t really get out much, so I might as well live in a small town sometimes.” Except if Seungmin lived in a small town, he would have been caught a long time ago. He chose to stay in Seoul for the ease of blending in, or disappearing. And for the wide pool of potential victims. “I say that now, but when I was…single, it was different. It’s easier to be at home now, because I’m not always alone with my thoughts.” Yeah, that makes sense. Seungmin can turn off the bad noise—not always, but certainly more than before.

“That makes sense. Sounds nice. Sounds serious.”

“It is. And speaking of that, there’s something I kept meaning to mention, and I just…I haven’t.”

“What is it?”

***

He makes sure to text you on the way up the elevator, but you don’t reply by the time he slides the key in and pushes the door open. “We’re here…oh.” Seungmin shuts the door softly, and Heecheol watches as he kneels where you’re still sleeping on the couch; blanket pulled up to your chin, Daengmo shielding your eyes from the sunlight. Seungmin picks him up slowly. “Hey…”

You stir a little, and as your eyes flutter open, you remember where you are, and what’s going on. You remember where Seungmin went and that he wasn’t returning alone. “My alarm didn’t go off…or, I slept through it, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, you can nap. Do you wanna get into bed while I get us settled?”

It takes a moment, but you sit up carefully and wonder how puffy and groggy you look to your guest. “No, I’m awake…hi.”

“Hi.” He smiles at you just as sweetly as he did before, but his eyes fall to your stomach this time. “I can understand why you’re tired. Please don’t force yourself to lose sleep because of me.”

“I sleep all the time...maybe too much. I’m hoping my decaf will trick my brain into thinking it’s getting caffeine.”

Heecheol approaches, a little hesitantly, but then sits a few inches away on the couch. “Right, the decaf makes sense now. Did you drink a lot of coffee before you were pregnant?”

“Yes, every day”

“A little bit of caffeine here and there won’t hurt. And if it makes you happy, that’s probably better for baby than you feeling miserable without it.”

“I’m nervous about doing something wrong”

“When did you have your last appointment?”

“Two weeks ago”

“And how did it go?”

“It went well. They looked very healthy, and they just needed more time to fatten up.”

“They?” His eyes grow, but he looks to Seungmin for an answer.

***

“I should have told you before today”

“As long as she’s comfortable with me here, that’s what matters.”

Seungmin sets his iced coffee in front of him, the same as what he’s drinking. “Still. I hesitated. I told you how long we were together, and I didn’t want you to think it was because we made a mistake.”

“I don’t think that.” Heecheol slides his hand across the counter and sets it over Seungmin’s. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Mo.”

He smiles at that—his nickname. The first time Heecheol heard his mother call him Mo, it stuck. Seungmin turns his hand over and squeezes his fingers.

“I’ve never known you to do anything lightly”

They speak softly at the kitchen counter, but you still catch pieces of the conversation. You recognize some of it, to your surprise—single words, at least. You catch your name, and that’s not surprising. Heecheol didn’t seem very surprised when he saw you, so Seungmin obviously got around to telling him at some point. The babies are moving around as you stand by the door and adjust your shirt, and you have to stop and breathe until they stop…it feels like they’re arguing in there; kicking each other, fighting for more room. Breathing excercises aren't enough. The horrible swirling feeling and the smell of lunch cooking on the stove makes you sick, and you stumble out and head for the bathroom.

“Tokki, are you okay?”

You see them from the corner of your eye as you walk by, but you don’t stop, because if you do, you might not make it.

“Still getting nauseous?” Heecheol asks. He walks up behind Seungmin as he stares at the closed bathroom door.

“Sometimes. Especially if they’re very active, but active is good, right?”

“Yes, and they’re taking up a lot of space in there. I’m sure it’s very hard when they won’t rest together.”

He’s never thought about it quite like that. Just because they share a space doesn’t mean they share a schedule. One takes a nap, the other wakes up and kicks his brother until he starts to kick back. He can’t imagine how strange that feels inside of you. “Hopefully they rest together when they’re here with us.”

“They’ll keep a routine as long as you give them one, and they need that, but babies will always do what they want”

“Cheoli, you seem to know a lot about babies”

“Lots of rotations on the maternity ward, here and in the states. It’s my favorite. Oh, how did your cut heal?”

There’s a scar there, but barely. Seungmin sticks out his arm and Heecheol runs his thumb over it. “Very well, you stitched it so straight.”

A few minutes later you emerge, pale in the face, but feeling better. The two of them look at you from where they sit at the counter, and Seungmin smiles as you approach. They’re both clutching their coffees now, but you’re certain you saw them clutching each other before you interrupted.

“I can make you something easier on your stomach, if you want”

You hoist yourself onto the stool next to him, “no, I’m okay…I think they finally calmed down,” and Seungmin scoots you closer.

The silence, one long enough to start feeling uncomfortable, is finally broken by Heecheol. And he speaks to you. “Do you like living here, in Korea?”

The thought never crossed your mind, strangely enough. Living here, or living there—it’s been the same in some ways, or it used to be. You lied to Seungmin about how long you’ve been here, and he knows that, but you’ve never actually told him the truth. Two months spent by yourself, trying to adjust…trying to settle somewhere new and far away from home. “I do. Learning Korean has been hard, and I feel like I’ll never get the hang of it. I really should be immersing myself, but it’s hard when he speaks perfect English.”

He nods and smiles at Seungmin, who looks a little guilty for making things too easy for you.

“It was hard when I was alone. I almost left a few times, but finding him made everything feel right.”

“And now you two have made a sweet little family"

Seungmin’s smile is so wide, you can see it without even turning to look at him, and it gives you butterflies. Or maybe the babies are just awake again. You didn’t expect to reminisce about the way your relationship came to be, but of course his friend wants to know details—details you can’t give, but ones you’ll remember, sometimes in intense detail. The forest hasn’t been forgotten, not at all, and you still wonder what pulled him in there. If you asked, he wouldn’t know, so sometimes you wake up in the middle of the night and wait for a dream to come; a nightmare that gets him talking. It does weigh on you—the eavesdropping and the hope for a vivid dream, but so does his strange behavior.

“Sometimes I would wonder if it was ever possible…being a father, and if I could even do it. It seemed out of reach for me.”

“Why? I understand the feeling, though."

“Tokki should have dropped me and ran more than once already, but…I’ve been lucky. I’m not easy to deal with.”

Heecheol smiles and lets out a tiny laugh, but only after seeing your smile. “We fit well together, just like the two of you seem to. I’ve never seen him smile at anyone else the way he smiles at you.” The happy blush already on his cheeks darkens even more, and his eyes drop to his coffee. Every time you look at him, it just reinforces your assumptions. Maybe Heecheol didn’t have feelings for Seungmin when they were kids, but he does now, and it hit him so suddenly when he laid eyes on him again. All those good feelings came back; the comfort, and the understanding.

Or maybe you’re just projecting. Maybe you’re just thinking anyone could fall in love with him so easily.

Seungmin squeezes the hand you placed in his lap, and at the same time, slides the other across the counter. Heecheol grabs it without hesitation.

“This time last year,” he starts, but you can tell he hasn’t gathered all of his thoughts yet. “Uhm, uh—“ he releases both of you and wrings his hands together as he continues to think. You can tell he’s retreating. “Nevermind.”

What was Seungmin doing last spring: what was going through his head?

“You can tell us, Mo. When it feels right.”

Both of you are gentle with him, and Heecheol doesn’t even know just how much Seungmin needs that. He also doesn’t know how rarely he opens up. Too often he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling; eyes slowly closing, but he never falls asleep before you do. Whatever is on his mind in those moments belong to him, and only him.

Tonight is one of those nights. An hour passes slowly as you watch him think. It was an unseasonably warm day, perfect for the baseball game they went to, and it’s carried into the night—a breeze just barely makes it to the bed. Seungmin is star-fished on his back, blanket covering one full leg. The rest of him, aside from what his shorts cover, is out and damp with sweat.

“I can put a fan on if you’re too warm,” you say, even though his eyes are closed now, and he might finally be asleep.

“I’m okay. Are you? Are the babies making you warm?”

“A little”

He’s up with a grunt, and he stretches his back and shoulders as he heads for the balcony. First he pulls the curtains aside as far as they’ll go, and then he slides the door open a little bit more.

“That makes me nervous”

“Hm…what does, the balcony?”

“The curtain and the door being all the way open.” You feel stupid thinking it, but not stupid enough to keep it to yourself. “I keep wondering if you were sleepwalking that night.”

“If I was,” he smiles sweetly at you, “I haven’t done it since. You haven’t caught me, at least.”

“I know”

“And we have a nice breeze coming in now…you’ll sleep better”

“Do you think Heecheol is okay? I don’t want him to be uncomfortable and not let us know.”

Seungmin stops halfway back to bed, “I’ll check.”

***

He doesn’t bother turning on a light, so he walks carefully to the refrigerator to grab a bottle of water. While he’s there, he wonders if alcohol is a good choice. A beer, just one on top of the three he had earlier, probably wouldn’t hurt. Maybe it’ll help him sleep. Seungmin grabs one and heads for the nursery, and before knocking, sets his ear against the door. At first it’s quiet, but a moment later, he hears what sounds like a muffled video playing on his phone. A soft knock, and a moment later, he hears him…I’m awake, you can come in.

Seungmin pokes his head in and sees him propped up on the pillows, phone in hand. “Sorry, we just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.” The window is cracked, and he can feel the breeze coming in. “Or if you needed anything.”

“Yeah, I’m comfortable. I thought you’d be asleep by now, it’s late.”

“Can’t sleep”

“You can come in”

Seungmin steps in and sets the water on the side table. “Brought this anyway.”

He nods to the bottle of beer. “Who’s that for?”

Both of them had enough to drink at the game, but his enough is double that of Seungmin’s, at least. He was still a little tipsy on the bus ride home, and Heecheol quietly stared at Seungmin for the duration.

“I can get another if you want this one”

“No, I think I hit my limit today.” The bed squeaks as he moves to make more room, and Seungmin takes the invitation. “Went a little over it, maybe.”

“Are you feeling okay now?”

“Yeah, back to normal I think. So this is the future nursery?”

Seungmin looks around and smiles as he twists off the cap. The color he chose looks nice in the dim lamplight, and a small collection of plushies is already accumulating on top of the dresser. Two boxes lean against the wall; a crib for each boy, and he knows he needs to start working on assembling things. You’ve already told him they won’t be sleeping in here for a while, so in your bedroom are two more boxes, each containing the pieces for a bassinet. Seungmin never really knew how much a baby needed, but it’s a surprising amount—doubled. “Yeah, just enough room, at least while they’re small.”

“Do you need help putting those together? Or anything else…doesn’t seem like you have everything yet.”

“No, I can’t make you work while you’re—“

“What was that?” The noise is faint, but Heecheol catches it. Seungmin hears it the second time—a soft cry, like you’re trying to call for him.

They’re both on their feet, stumbling through the dark until Seungmin pushes the door open, and his stomach drops when he sees your pale, anguished face. “What… what is it, what’s wrong?” He asks as calmly as possible.

Heecheol rounds the bed and grabs your hand, and he’s quiet for a few seconds. “What’s hurting?”

“Everything”

“Have you felt pains like this yet?”

Flashbacks of the intense pains you felt while hiding out months ago come back to Seungmin. He was mostly useless then, and he feels only slightly less useless now.

He reaches for the lamp and clicks it on, giving the room some well needed light. “Have you had any false labor pains yet? Hey…look at me, I know it hurts.”

“No pains, no”

“Okay, try to breathe deep through your nose, and then let it out slowly…very slow.”

Seungmin’s grip on your hand relaxes. “I can see…is that them moving?” He almost lays his palm on your stomach, but thinks better of it. That’s probably not what you want or need right now.

“They can feel it, too,” Heecheol speaks softly, “and this is a long one. Take another big breath…it’ll pass.”

You listen, and as hard as it is to take a deep breath, you manage it twice. This is a new type of pain you’ve never experienced before, and you’re not sure you’re ready to deal with it again. Two long minutes of it, and all you can see to your left is a blur of Seungmin staring you down. You’ve never seen him look more worried than he does right now. “It’s okay, Minnie…I’m okay.” You aren’t, not really, but the pain is gradually easing up, and it becomes easier to breathe.

Heecheol squeezes your wrist again, and his other hand lands gently on your stomach. “They might be awake for a while now, but hopefully no more pains that intense.”

“I don’t think I can do that again”

“You can—you will, and you’ll be surprised by the amount of pain you can endure”

“I don’t want to,” you laugh, and wince in pain again when one of them kicks hard enough to see.

Seungmin stares, and finally places both hands on your stomach. “Is it normal to see them moving like that?”

“Yeah, especially considering how cramped it’s getting in there; you’ll see all kinds of movement. Feel anything?”

He smiles, “yeah, I’ve never felt them so active before.”

“Me neither,” you sigh and set your hands on top of his. “I wonder which one is the worst.”

“Do you need anything? Water…and something for the muscle pains you’ll be feeling would be a good idea.”

“I’ll get you something, I’ll be right back.” Seungmin bends down to kiss your hand before jumping off the bed and heading for the medicine cabinet. He wants to feel useful, and it’s tough to do with a nurse in the room.

You watch Heecheol start to rise, but he stops and feels your pulse. He’s calm, like he’s been in this situation more times than he can remember, and having him here right now, tonight, was very lucky. “Thank you. I don’t know how well he would have handled that alone. He’s doing a good job, but he worries…and overthinks.”

“So he hasn’t changed.” Heecheol laughs and looks around. He sees the dried flowers, slowly crumbling away in a brand new vase, and next to it is the still broken pieces of his music box. To new eyes, it probably looks like a mess, and nothing else.

There’s no sound coming from outside the bedroom, so you keep your ears perked while you watch him walk to the other side of the room. “Can I ask you something, before Seungmin comes back?”

“Huh? Yeah, sure…is it about…” his gaze drops to your stomach.

“No, it’s about when you two were kids.” He’s making something warm to drink—you hear the familiar clumsy sound of him making tea. Heecheol moves closer as you sit up a little more. “Did he ever wander into the woods? I mean, aside from the incident with his stepfather. Did either of you ever see anything strange in there?”

The look he gives you is loaded with questions, and you think the meds must be one of them. “The woods? The pine forest around the old house?” Now his gaze moves to Seungmin’s side table, and you see what he's spotted. Seungmin’s prescription came in a box this time, and the writing on the front is hard to miss: HALOPERIDOL 2mg. “Not that I recall. It was creepy in there…I do remember him telling me he saw something, but just once. I didn’t believe him—I thought he was trying to scare me.” He has no clue which incident you're referring to with his stepfather, but he's curious. “Why do you ask?”

There’s no time to elaborate, because Seungmin is back—mug in one hand, bottle of water tucked under his arm. You remember this. He looks exactly like he did that night; worried, a little pale, half dressed with a mug of tea in one shaking hand.

“I sweetened it for you.” He sets it on your table, along with the water and two tablets he had clutched in his fist. “Cheoli…is it too early for this, the pain?”

“Not necessarily, but if there are more tonight, more that last that long…could be uhm, could be the babies trying to move into position.”

“Position? Position to what?”

Heecheol laughs. “To be born. They have to turn, head down preferably.”

“Right. But they can’t be born yet, it’s too soon.”

As much as you want to tell him not to worry, you can’t, because you’ve been nervous since the day you found out you were pregnant. Getting this far was a surprise. All you can hope for is Heecheol to put his mind at ease.

“It is, but the pains don’t mean they’re coming yet”

Somehow, Seungmin’s face grows even more pale. Not trying to worry him further is not working, for either of you. You calmly sip your tea, but he continues to watch you like you’re going to explode at any minute.

“I’m sorry, Mo, I’m not trying to worry you.”

Seungmin swallows and nods, and he follows Heecheol as he heads for the door. “I’ll be right back, okay?”

***

Half of his bottle is drained quickly, “what?” Seungmin isn’t just feeling watched—the look Heecheol is giving him is one of concern, and curiosity. Some confusion. “I know I didn’t handle that very well. I should be stronger than that.”

He shakes his head, “no, you’re allowed to be worried and a little scared. A little clueless. The two of you will get through it. But I do have to ask something…because you said, or we said…maybe we were both a little tipsy or getting too much sun at the game…”

He remembers. How can he do it, though? Seungmin can’t tell him everything. “No secrets, just like when we were kids.”

“That means a lot of catching up.” Heecheol takes the bottle from him and finishes it. “The Haldol, I’m assuming it's yours.”

Seungmin was so worried and distracted, he didn’t think about his medication sitting out in the open on his bedside table. Keeping them within sight has helped. But now he might have to jump right in and tell him something. “Yes, they’re mine.”

“We can talk about it another time, if you want, but no more alcohol. Just promise me that.”

“Okay”

“Go get some sleep. Wake me if either of you need anything.”

***

The pain mostly subsides, but the kicking and squirming doesn’t. Both of them feel like they’re spinning inside of you, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. Breathing exercises only help so much, and if there’s a neural connection that lets you communicate with them, they’re ignoring every word you say tonight. But Seungmin returns, and regardless of how tired and mopey he looks, you’re relieved to see him shuffling toward the bed. “Just in time. C’mere.”

“Are you hurting again?” He climbs across the bed and curls up next to you, despite how warm he is. The alcohol and conversation made him even warmer. “More pains?”

“Nothing like before, no. Can you talk to them, or something? Anything. They’re all worked up.”

Seungmin sits up and sets a hand on you until he feels movement. “I can try.” He lies down again, this time with his head on you, ear pressed against your stomach. “It’s bedtime,” he whispers. “Time to settle down and rest. Haneul…Haesung, which of us will fall asleep first? It can’t be me. I’ll stay up until umma falls asleep, and that means you two first.”

He’s been speaking to them by name for two months now, and you’ve started to as well. There hasn’t been any more discussion about it, so it seems like a good fit. Seungmin starts to hum, and you can feel it move through your chest. You worry for a moment that they’ll start squirming again, but they don’t, and you can finally close your eyes and relax. There’s still some fear that the pain will hit again, but you’re too tired to let it keep you up, and you feel yourself slowly fading into sleep.

A dim, measured beep starts going off, just enough to be annoying. You’re still tired, and you desperately want to sleep, so you try to block it out and slip back to where you were, but it gets louder.

“Seungmin…what is that noise?” You cup your palm over your ear, but it doesn’t help. “Is that your phone?” No, his alarm doesn’t sound like that, and he never has the sound on. Maybe he’s at his computer, mixing something together…but he hasn’t done that in a while. Your hand slides downward and jumps to your stomach. Nobody is kicking now—not that you can feel, but you can’t feel anything. “Seungmin?” He isn’t next to you. Finally, you open your eyes, and it’s blinding. Wherever you are is too bright, and it’s certainly not your bedroom. Moving is almost impossible, but as soon as you force yourself onto your back, all you see as your eyes adjust is a plain, drab room. You set your hand on your stomach again; there’s nothing there; no bump, and not even the ghost of one. This is the same stomach you had six months ago. Everything below your chest is numb.

The doorknob clicks, and a nurse walks in without a word. She looks at you, clicks a pen, and still says nothing.

“Where are my babies? Where am I?”

“Babies?”

“Where are they…where is Seungmin? He wouldn’t leave me here. Seungmin!”

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

You wake up again, and seeing him stare down at you is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. His big worried eyes, and his warm hands squeezing your shoulders bring you back immediately. "Stupid dreams," you mumble.

“Are you in pain?”

No, you think. Not at all. It was just a dream, and you’re here with him. Everything is okay. But you are in pain and it takes another few seconds to hit. It feels like you’ve been in pain for hours, and you’ve never felt anything like it before.

“Hey, it’s okay…everything is okay, I’m here”

It’s as if a vice is squeezing your back and pulling your spine from your body, inch by inch. Your chest burns when you try to breathe, and it comes back out in a cry. “It hurts.”

“I’m gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” He turns away screams for Heecheol.

It echoes in your head, and pain shoots around your stomach, around your back, and down your thighs. “They can’t come yet.”

“You’ll be okay, and they’ll be okay, too. Just look at me, take a breath.”

Heecheol runs into the room, but you can tell he’s calm as he approaches. “Hey, another bad one?” His hand clutches yours.

“Bad…it’s bad”

“Where does it hurt the most?”

“God, my back…and,” you set your hand on the bottom of your stomach and attempt another deep breath. “My chest.”

“Chest? How far is the closest hospital?”

“Uhm, the university hospital isn’t far. Should I call an ambulance?”

Heecheol gives your hand a gentle squeeze. “Can you walk? When this passes, if you can walk, we should get you there, just in case.”

“I’m not sure”

He looks at Seungmin, “if it doesn’t pass in the next few minutes, we’ll call. If it does, we can get ready and drive there.”

It does start to fade, but not nearly as quickly as before. Your head pounds from the tension in your body, and every muscles aches in its own way. You close your eyes and feel both of them move away from you, but you don’t bother to focus on what they say…

“Hospital? You think it’s time for that?” Seungmin asks. He watches you carefully as you finally start to relax.

“The pain seemed pretty intense. Is the pregnancy considered high risk?”

“I don’t think so…everything has been fine at the appointments”

His hands warm, damp are on you again; one squeezes yours, and the other runs softly across your thigh, “you okay?” He whispers.

“I dunno”

“We’re just gonna go to the hospital, to be safe,” he whispers again, trying desperately to keep you calm as he feels something falling apart inside of him. “So you can be more comfortable.”

“Will you stay with me?” A nauseous feeling starts to swirl inside of you, and you hope it’s the babies fighting again. You need them to move again. They haven’t moved since you woke up from your dream. “Please.”

***

The beeping is there again—it’s loud, and when your eyes open, everything is different, and he’s there, asleep with his head in his arms at the edge of your hospital bed. The lights are dimmed, and nobody else is around, because you assume it’s still the middle of the night. You don’t even know what time it was when you woke up in pain.

“Minnie?” Your voice cracks, and your cough is what wakes him up. “What time is it?”

“Uhm,” he grabs your arm and searches for his phone, “it’s 5:30. How do you feel?”

“Tired. What happened?”

“They gave you something to keep you from going into labor.” Heecheol closes the sliding door. There’s a coffee in each hand; one for him, and the other for Seungmin. “And something for the bleeding. And the pain.”

“Are the babies okay?”

“Yeah, babies are good. You don’t remember the ultrasound?”

Did you black out from the pain? Is labor actually that painful? “No, I don’t remember leaving the apartment.” If so, any fleeting thoughts you had of a natural birth before tonight…they’re long gone. “How long does the medicine stop me from going into labor?”

“Two days at the least, but an extra week is possible. Twenty-six is much better than twenty-five.”

You look to Seungmin, who’s looking at you the way that he tends to do; into you, and through you. He can’t hide the worry and sadness he’s carrying around with him. “Minnie, I’m sorry.”

“Why? You don’t have anything to be sorry for. You’ll be okay, and so will they.”

The dream keeps coming back to you, though.

***

It’s another two hours of you moving in and out of sleep before your doctor arrives, and when she walks into the room followed closely by someone else—a nurse, she looks concerned. You can tell she tries to shake it off when she gets closer.

“Good morning, how are you feeling?”

“Better than I was last night”

“Last week everything looked very good, and they were…” She stacks her arms parallel to each other against her stomach, “transverse. They both moved very quickly, and now they’re both head down.”

“Is that bad?”

“It’s unusual this early, but we’ll try to keep labor at bay for as long as possible, and we can give you something to help speed up lung development. But after that, we just wait.”

“I have to stay here?”

“Just for three or four days. If everything stays calm after that, you can go home…but bed rest until the babies are born,“ She looks at Heecheol, and then to Seungmin. “I’m counting on you to keep her there, and do everything she says.”

***

Seungmin doesn’t want to, but eventually, after convincing him you’d be alright by yourself, Heecheol and him head back to the apartment. It’s a quick, silent drive, and neither of them speak much until they’re on the elevator, halfway up the building.

Heecheol wants to say something to comfort him, but he doesn’t know where to start, and he doesn’t know if anything he says will help, so he keeps quiet for now. In place of conversation, he starts making more coffee while Seungmin shuts himself in the bathroom.

He takes a long shower, and he’s still silent as he heads for the bedroom wrapped in his towel. The sounds of him changing, and then the familiar sound of a pill being pushed from the blister pack filters out through the cracked door. Heecheol wonders how long he’s been taking Haldol, and how serious his condition is. Schizophrenia? Bipolar disorder? Both, possibly. It seems to be well under control, though, and he hopes Seungmin will talk to him about it.

The door swings open. “How likely is survival if they’re born this premature?” Seungmin asks. The doctor may be going over this with you right now, but he needs to know, too. And he needs to talk about it.

“Around 75…80%. Each week increases that percentage a little more.”

“I’m sorry you have to be here for all of this, Cheoli”

“I don’t mind. I can get someone to check in on umma; she’ll be fine.” He slides a coffee closer to him. “I’d hate to think about you all by yourself here, waiting around. Besides, you’ll need help getting this apartment ready if mom’s stuck in bed for a while.”

The list of things to finish is getting longer, and he wasn’t sure he’d have enough time before they arrived. Now he might have no time, but it doesn’t matter, as long as they make it home. “It would be nice to get the nursery done, even if they won’t be sleeping in there when they come home.” He reaches for his buzzing phone and sees a text from you already.

I know you just left, and you seemed fine, but are you okay? You can call or text whenever you want to, because I’m gonna bother you just as much

I will, but I’ll feel bad if I wake you. Keep your phone on do not disturb and I’ll feel much better about it. And sleep. If you’re hungry for something I’ll bring it in for you. AND I will be there tomorrow morning.

I will, I promise. I just had breakfast, and it was okay, but maybe you can make me some soft-boiled eggs and sneak them in? They only gave me a half of one :(

I’ll bring you as many eggs as you can eat. How are you feeling? Are you comfortable?

I am, I’m feeling good, no pains or anything…lots of kicks, I think they still want out

I’ll try to visit tonight before you go to bed, and I’ll tell them they need to stay put for while. Cheoli is going to help me finish putting things together here. Everything will be ready before you come home 🤍

the list I’ve been working on is in my drawer…we still have a lot to cross off

We’ll take care of everything, promise

***

Seungmin finds your notebook right where you said it would be. Next to it is your old one…the one you were using to practice Hangul months ago; the same one you wrote his name in over and over through the first few pages. He opens it to see everything still there, and then flips further back to see how much better your handwriting eventually became. You don’t feel confident speaking Korean, even though you practice with him all the time, and he’s being honest when he says you’re doing well. But no matter how much he reassures, you still believe you just can’t get it. A few nights ago, you made yourself cry from the fear of not being able to speak to them properly. It’s the first time in a long time, aside from last night, that Seungmin can remember feeling truly helpless when it comes to you; he can’t fix it…not without time.

It just…scrambles in my head, even when you speak slowly to me. I can’t make sense of it.

We’re going to be speak Korean and English to them, right? So you keep learning as they learn.

The new notebook is a baby planner, and it’s well-used. The side pockets are stuffed with pamphlets and information the doctor gave you in Daegu; older, messier lists to refer back to, and a paint color swatch for the greens Seungmin chose from. He flips to the middle where your much neater, much more organized lists are, starting with NURSERY: two cribs and everything that’s goes with them, two bassinets, changing table, dresser. Most of that is sitting in their respective boxes, untouched. Baby monitor, just one of those; blankets, too many to count; pacifiers, also too many to count. He flips the pages. Fortunately, most of that section is checked off.

Fatigue starts to creep up on him, and just as he flips to the next page (FEEDING) Heecheol sneaks up behind him. “Feeding, still need all of those. We can get a lot done today, but we need sleep first.”

He must see it on him, the exhaustion. Neither of them slept last night. “Yeah, I am very tired. I can hear Tokki yelling at me for it—if I just start working without at least trying to rest.”

“Can I ask where the nickname came from?”

“Tokki?”

“Mhm. She looks more like a deer than a bunny…feels like one, too.”

He thinks about it, picturing your face in his mind; your voice, and your walk. Maybe you are more like a deer, but you’ll always be Tokki to him. “That’s true, but…she’s my moon, I guess.”

“Your moon?”

“Yeah. We should get some sleep.”

***

Both of them get back into bed without bothering to set alarms, and they both sleep well into late afternoon. The sun is still up, just barely, when Heecheol finally opens his eyes, but his head is pounding. He decides to close his eyes again, and if Seungmin happens to wake up and need him, he’ll get up, but that doesn’t happen.

The first time Seungmin wakes, the sun is setting, and some of the light is pushing through the thick curtains. Before dozing off again, he watches it move across the room, and then he looks at his phone; no notifications. He knows you’re safe and resting, and that makes it even easier for him to slip back into sleep. But something creeps into his head without him realizing it; it was there last night, and when he sat in the hospital room watching your every move. It was there as he flipped through the baby book, trying to figure out his next step. It's been there since he went back into the woods; he's just gotten better at holding it back.

It’s full dark when he wakes again—10 o’clock. He slept too much, and the pain in his head is pulsing behind his eyes. He can’t remember what day it is, and why he’s been asleep. Why is he waking at this hour? Seungmin sits up. “Why is it so quiet?” He says to himself, and immediately falls back onto his pillow. Again, he looks at an empty phone, and then he scratches at the scar on his forearm. The empty spot to his left confuses him, and without thinking; without knowing exactly why, he jumps out of bed and opens his drawer.

“What? Where…is…” he moves a few things around. He doesn’t remember putting these things here, and he certainly doesn’t remember moving his tools. Seungmin moves to the dresser and checks each drawer. Nothing. Next is the closet. He glances at the bin by the door; the one filled with his old baby clothes, and a few forgotten toys, but he chooses to ignore it. The first thing he notices is a box, slightly larger than the photo boxes it’s sitting next to. It’s a nice box, with a hinged lid and a lock. And it’s locked. Does he have a key for this lock? Seungmin is pretty certain he has a key for every lock.

The ring of keys was in the drawer, so he and the box return to bed, and after four careful tries, it clicks.

“How did you get in here? I don’t remember...” He picks up his knife, safe in its leather sheath, and slowly pulls it out. It shines at him in the darkness, and he sees his reflection in the polished steel. “Oh well.”

Back to the closet, and then to the dresser. Black jeans, and a fitted tank top. Black boots—not his good ones, but they’re still nice—and two silver chains around his neck. He checks himself in the mirror before throwing on his jacket...runs his fingers through his hair and fluffs it up a little. By the time he walks out the door, he looks perfect.

***

Might as well just sleep the rest of the night, Heecheol thinks as he rolls around trying to get comfortable. He checks his phone for messages, and there’s nothing, so everything is fine at home. No need to worry. The headache is gone, at least, but he has to get up and rehydrate…maybe check in on Seungmin. He had a rough day, and meds or no meds, things can go downhill quickly.

The little hallway is dark, and so is the living room. One tiny light in the kitchen helps guide him toward the water, but not before noticing the light coming from Seungmin’s bedroom, so maybe he is up, and he is okay. Heecheol grabs his water and heads for the bathroom, but he doesn’t get far before something grabs his attention; a sound, and not a particularly nice sound. A gasp for air.

“Seungmin, are you up?” He says softly, and his heart pounds louder than his voice. One ear pressed against the door is his second mistake; the first being approaching it at all.

you…fucking…don’t fight me…do not touch me

“What the hell?”

A few seconds pass, and silence takes over. Heecheol is afraid to move in case the hardwood floor squeaks and gives him away, so he hears something else—a quiet groan, but it’s not Seungmin’s voice. He takes a chance when he starts to speak again, and somehow manages to make it to the nursery and close the door behind him. Just in time. The door opens, and light fills the living room. Heecheol’s view from the keyhole is a little too good, because the reflection on the knife seems to bounce right off of his door. The weapon almost distracts him from the fact that Seungmin’s hands are covered in blood, and a splatter of it managed to travel across his cheek. The bathroom light illuminates things a little more—Seungmin disappears inside, and Heecheol waits motionless; breathing in shaky breaths, and letting them out quietly. What is he witnessing right now? What did his friend do?

The bathroom water runs for a few minutes, and then he emerges again with a clean knife in his clean hands. The front door clicks, but there’s no way he’s leaving the apartment with a body (maybe—he doesn’t know if there’s a body anywhere…he could just be in a very vivid nightmare for all he knows) laying in his bedroom. Heecheol waits it out for another few minutes, but manages to unstick himself from his spot and grab his phone. A well-timed text might help clear things up, or confirm some very scary suspicions, but when he pulls up the message thread, he can’t do it.

The door opens and another light clicks on, and Seungmin is heading back to the bedroom. Thanks to the extra light, he can very clearly see what he’s now carrying; a neatly folded tarp, or…some type of plastic. A drop cloth you’d use while painting, possibly. And a bucket, he assumes full of cleaning supplies. There wasn’t much doubt in what he was hearing and seeing, especially with a knife in hand, but this confirms what he’s really, truly trying to push out of his head. Seungmin is preparing to dispose of a body, right in front of his eyes. Is he not worried Heecheol will hear or see him? “Maybe you’re not all there right now,” he whispers as he turns and somehow still gives his friend the benefit of the doubt; but not really…he knows what’s happening, sure, but maybe there’s something more. “What is wrong with me…he just killed someone, quietly…oh, Mo, what the hell is going on?”

He should be planning his escape right now—packing up and heading to the train station or finding a hotel. Why isn’t he moving?

A thud, the sound of plastic, and then he appears again, slowly. Seungmin comes back into his field of vision, back first, pulling the wrapped body little by little. He can’t make out much except a vague idea of size, and it’s not very small. Seungmin grunts a little each time he pulls, and then you hear his phone. Of course he turned the sound on in case you called or messaged him. Of course it’s you. He drops what he’s doing and hops over the body as he runs for it, and he gets there before you hang up.

“Hi sweetie, you’re up late…is everything okay?”

…nothing quite as frustrating as hearing one side of the conversation, Heecheol thinks. But not for long. Seungmin puts it on speaker and puts the phone in his pocket so he can continue. Apparently, Seungmin's mental break erased Heecheol from the equation.

why are you up so late? You don’t sound like you were sleeping

“I slept all day. I bet you did, too. How are you feeling?”

Yeah I fell asleep right after dinner. Did you eat? What are you doing?

“Uh, no…I haven’t eaten, not yet”

is Heecheol still there?

Hearing Seungmin say his name sends him into a panic, and he has to cup his head over his mouth to quiet his breaths.

“Is…Heecheol?” Seungmin pulls one more time, stops, and stands up straight. “Uhm…”

Minnie, what was that? What are you doing?

…and then he turns his head toward the nursery door. “Nuh…nothing.”

did you leave and come back with someone? Please tell me you didn’t do that, not right now…baby

Seungmin does something stupid. He’s never hung up on you, or ignored you; not until tonight. He hits the end call button and shoves the phone back in his pocket, and now Heecheol watches him approach. He freezes for a few more steps, but manages to quietly slip back under the covers and pretend to sleep.

“Heecheol?”

His heart feels on the brink of giving out. There’s no way he’ll fall for the fake sleeping unless he can relax. The door clicks and squeaks a little as it’s pushed open.

“Cheoli, are you...”

Deep, steady breaths. No, sound asleep…he heard nothing, and he saw nothing. But he’s not in the clear yet, because Seungmin is still there watching. Heecheol hears him sigh.

“...awake?”

The doors squeaks again, clicks shut, and Heecheol finally shifts. The phone rings again, so he knows Seungmin has returned to his job.

“Hey, I’m sorry—”

Don’t ever hang up on me like that

“I’m sorry, I am…I don’t know why I did this”

He must have turned the speaker off, but Heecheol can still hear you—your voice carries easily in the quiet apartment.

Are you at home? Did you finish?

“Yeah, almost. I made a mess, though.”

oh, no…

“Everything will be fine. I’ll clean up. Heecheol was asleep when I just looked in on him.”

No, Seungmin it’s happening again

“What, what’s happening?”

There’s no real answer on your end of the conversation, but there’s a horrible, anguished wail. The labor pains have already returned.

“Fuck, I’ll be there as soon as I can”

The call ends, and Heecheol is still stuck. Seungmin can’t run off with a dead body in the middle of the floor, so he has to clean up before he leaves, but he might not have much time. He can hear the sounds of him banging around, and he can’t begin to imagine how he’s taking care of this.

Seungmin grabs the end of the plastic again and pulls. He’s moving faster now, because he has to, and a few seconds later he’s out of the front door. The next apartment; the empty one they’ve started using as storage, is thirty feet down the hall, and Seungmin covers it quickly. Adrenaline pumping through him should make quick work of this.

The slam of the neighboring door gets Heecheol up again and peeking through the keyhole. He catches sight of Seungmin running by and pulling off his top, and after a few minutes of changing and cleaning up any leftover blood (he assumes), Seungmin bolts by again, slams the door shut, and everything goes quiet again.

“What the…fuck?” It’s strange hearing himself after the terrified silence. “Seungmin, what the fuck?” Now what is he supposed to do? Stay? Leaving in the middle of the night is out of the question, unless he wants to make it obvious he actually did witness a murder. Seungmin might have to get rid of him or anyone who knows—apparently not you, though. You knew exactly what he was up to, and even though you weren’t thrilled about it, you’re still here and carrying his children. Tokki should have dropped me and ran more than once already, but…I’ve been lucky. I’m not easy to deal with. He thinks he knows at least one reason why Seungmin is difficult. It’s almost 2am when he checks his phone again. In another minute, he’ll text him:

I heard the front door slam, and you were gone when I checked…everything okay?

It’s less than three kilometers to the hospital, so driving there at this hour should be quick. It takes three more minutes for a reply:

Yes I’m sorry Cheoli. I panicked and ran. I didn’t wanna wake you, but I’ll keep you updated.

If you can. Let me know if you need anything.

Maybe he doesn’t suspect anything. He is typically a deep sleeper, and Seungmin might remember that from when they were kids—hopefully he does. Heecheol is more worried about you, actually. You might not believe he missed the entire ordeal—you’re going to suspect he witnessed everything, even is Seungmin doesn’t. He needs time to process this, and the first thing he does is check the bedroom. It looks the same as it did last night, but it smells like a mix of disinfectant and the coppery scent of blood. The open balcony door hasn’t helped air it out yet. The only other thing that seems off is the wooden box sitting on his side of the bed. It’s closed, but it isn’t locked. “Oh no,” he cringes when he sees what’s inside; the knife, clean and back in its sheath; nylon rope; syringes; handcuffs.

It feels stupid as he’s doing it, but he heads to the kitchen and makes himself a cup of tea. He checks one of the cupboards and finds a hoard of snacks that he can only assume belongs to you. He pulls out an already open bag of chips and starts to eat while his tea steeps.

A few minutes later, a text message comes through, and it’s from Seungmin.

They can’t stop it this time, they’re preparing for delivery

“Damn. I’m sorry, buddy.” He says it out loud to himself, and immediately feels a horrible swirl in his stomach. Hours ago, he knew Seungmin deserved all of the good things he was finally getting. A good relationship, and a family of his own. He’s been through a lot, and Heecheol doesn’t even know how terrible Seungmin’s childhood actually was, but he just killed someone in his bedroom. It’s possible that both of you are killing; some sick version Natural Born Killers come to life. Is that actually how you two met?

It’ll be okay. They’ll take good care of them. All three of them.

They won’t let me in the room. They said I have to wait until things are more stable.

That’s normal. Just stay calm and they’ll let you in as soon as they can. I’m sure she’s asking for you. I can make my way down there.

He can?

Can you, Cheoli? I’m sorry you have to come down alone

Yes, he can. Seungmin needs him.

I’ll look for a ride right now

This has been his worst day in a very long time, and he can feel it in every single nerve in his body. His head aches, and his joints do, too; his heart hasn’t stopped racing since he woke from his very long nap. But his friend is coming to be by his side, and thinking about how close he came to ruining things is making him sick to his stomach. You, in that room, alone and in pain, has him on the verge of crying and screaming at everyone he sees sitting calmly in front of him. Can they not see how distressed he is? Why isn’t anyone telling him how you are?

“Hey, Mo”

Seungmin jumps, but smiles when Heecheol sits next to him in maternity waiting room. One of the nurses glances at them, but says nothing. “Thanks for coming.”

“That’s what friends are for.” He looks down at Seungmin’s fidgeting hands and sees blood that isn’t there. “Haven’t heard anything new?”

“No, I feel like everyone is ignoring me”

“I’m sure they’re not. It’s a stressful situation, and everyone is focused on making sure Tokki and the babies are both safe.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right”

“We’ll hear something soon”

***

The pain meds took hold, and the nurse made sure to tell you how lucky you are that they pushed them in time. Everything from your stomach to your knees is a partially numb, but every time you take a breath, you feel the pain.

“I’m going to see if things are progressing…” a nurse says and pushes hard on one of your knees. She speaks to another nurse first, than to you. “Still five centimeters.”

Still. You’ve been at five since the pains first started. “When can I see Seungmin?”

“Seungmin?” One looks to the other and asks.

“Nampyeonbun”

“Oh…the cute, pouty one sitting in the waiting room? She whispers in Korean to her partner. “Soon, you’ll see him soon”

You look everywhere for your phone, but one of them must have taken it when things started getting chaotic.

“Don’t cry, everything will be fine. Doctor will be here soon, and she’ll know exactly what to do.”

She will, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s too soon, and it’s very possible that, no matter how smoothly the delivery goes, you could still lose one, or even both of them. That can’t happen—you won’t be able to handle losing what you thought you never wanted, or failing to keep his children alive. And Seungmin won’t be able to cope with losing another piece of himself.

“Should we go get him?”

Just as she asks, the doctor arrives, only slightly deshelved from the 2am phone call. She smiles at you just like before; a bad attempt at hiding her obvious concern. “Where’s dad? Not sleeping, I’m sure.”

“I was just going to get him”

The other nurse moves to stand by your bedside. “No progress in dilation for an hour. Five centimeters, currently.”

“Thank you. Did the epidural work?”

“Sort of”

“If you don’t progress in the next half an hour, we should consider other options.”

The nurse returns, and Seungmin comes in quietly behind her. He’s pale, and his cheeks are red and blotchy. He looks as if he’s been awake for two days straight. His approach is hesitant at first, as if he’s afraid to touch you, but when you whisper his name, he breaks out into a smile. “Hey.” He touches your hand and you pull him until he puts his arms around you. “Please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to be so careless.”

“I’m not, I promise”

“We were just discussing other options that may become necessary”

“What options?” Seungmin asks.

“Heart rates have returned to normal, but they may not stay that way. C-section would be less stressful for mom, and less traumatic for the boys.”

He looks to you, hopeful, thinking that’s an easy solution to this problem. “Is that something you would want?”

It might be. “If I have to, I will.”

“Okay,” the doctor nods. “Only if necessary. We’ll check again in thirty minutes. We’ll leave you two alone, but call if you need anything.”

***

The two of you stare silently at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Seungmin squeezes your hand, and eventually drops his gaze to your stomach. His other hand feels for any movement.

“What happened?”

“Not sure. I woke up and…it felt like what I had to do. Maybe all the worry and stress caught up to me.”

You squeeze back. “I’m only upset because I’m worried you were disassociating again, and not all there. Do you remember everything? Did he see you?”

The finer details are already lost on him, now that you mention it. He’s forgetting this, just like he couldn’t remember wandering into the woods, or what he did while he was there. He doesn’t even remember the feeling creeping up on him; the voice pushing him to do it. What he does remember is making a mess. The knife seemed like the obvious solution to quell the need. “Some. And no, I don’t think so. He’s in the waiting room.”

“He’s here?”

Seungmin nods, and you reach out to rub a spot on his neck. “I didn’t have time to clean up properly...what is it?” It feels like he’s setting off your pains. Every time he does something stupid, they return. “Should I call someone back?”

“I know I can’t push but…fuck, they’re making it very hard”

“Okay, you’re supposed to do the breathing techniques, right? No pushing, just nice big breaths.”

You breath in and out as steadily and calmly as possible, and Seungmin does it with you. It feels good doing it with him, and eventually, the contraction passes.

“No meds for the pain?”

“Yeah, it helped a little. I can still feel it.”

He’s surprisingly calm, and maybe he’s truly confident that everything will be okay. The last twenty-four hours have been more than stressful, and his kill seems to have grounded him—at least he’s gained that much. Not having him clear-headed and here with you is something you let yourself worry about far too much.

Another pain shoots through you, this time a little worse. He panics and pushes the call button on the side of your bed, and the doctor makes it in the see the very end of your contraction.

“Was that your first contraction since we left?”

“Second”

“Let’s check things out.” She pats your knee sweetly, and her bedside manner is a relief compared to both of your nurses. A few seconds into her inspection, and again you’re relieved to see a non-worried smile on her face. “Good, almost there. One more contraction and you might be ready to let them out.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m going to wash up and change, and dad is going to join me so he can stay.”

For five minutes, you’re completely alone again. The only sound is the woosh of two heartbeats, and when you look at the machine you’re hooked up to, you see your own heart rate sitting at 90. Baby 1 is 125, and baby 2 is 130. It occurs to you now that the two of you haven’t discussed who is who, so it’s the first thing you say when he walks back in, and he’s almost unrecognizable in his mask and gown.

“First born…Haneul or Haesung?”

Seungmin adjusts his mask, and his eyes look even more intense peeking over it. “Huh? Oh, who is Haneul and…I guess we never thought about that part. Should the oldest be Sky? And Haesung is little brother.”

“That sounds good”

The mask doesn’t hide his sudden worry. That’s all in his eyes, but he does his best to keep his mind on you. Seungmin made sure to update Heecheol before getting ready, and before he got his attention, he looked lost. He looked like he wasn’t sure which direction to go in. Heecheol’s foot tapped nervously, and he was chewing on his fingers, but Seungmin doesn’t think any of that was because of the situation they’re in here at the hospital. No. Now he’s wondering if Heecheol did hear something. Or worse—see something. As soon as he saw him approach, he perked up and gave him a smile.

“Delivery time. You can stick around if you’d like, or I can call a ride and you can get some sleep. I’m sorry your visit has been so strange.”

Strange doesn’t quite cover it. Running to and from the hospital has been very normal by comparison, and honestly, good bonding time for him and Seungmin. “How about I stick around for a little longer, and then when I know everything is okay, I’ll head back and put that nursery together.”

“You don’t have to do that”

“I know. But I’d like to. I’ll make myself something, get some coffee going, and you stay here as long as you need to.”

“Cheoli, I…when I say I don’t deserve a friend like you, I mean it. If things go well tonight, and I desperately need them to, it’s not because I deserve anything. Tokki does. I don’t.”

“Where is this coming from?”

“My heart, and my very damaged head”

He shakes his head and forces himself to smile. Does he know he knows? Is he attempting damage control? No. Heecheol doesn’t really think that’s the case. That might be part of it, but the bigger part is his sincerity, and his genuine aversion to himself. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

***

The doctors voice is floating somewhere in the room, but you can’t catch all the words. Her face is between your legs, and Seungmin has decided he doesn’t need to see what’s happening down there. He has your hand cupped between his, and he keeps putting his face into the sheets out of frustration. You’re dilated, but nothing is happening. You haven’t felt the urge to push in at least ten minutes.

Two incubators are pushed against the wall, ready and waiting, and every time you catch sight of them, it makes you a little more nervous. “Tell them to come out,” you whine, and the doctor laughs when she hears you.

“I think they’re going to listen to one of you better than me. Go ahead, talk to them.”

Seungmin takes her advice and scoots a few inches to his right. He bends close enough to set his lips against the little bit of skin showing between your gown and the blanket draped over your lap. “Are you two sleeping? It’s not a good time…you can nap after you come out and say hello.” He stops and waits a few seconds. “Please, I know it’s early but I would really like to meet you.”

Another few seconds, and you start to relax again, but you should know better. This isn’t the first, or second, or third time they’ve responded to his voice. This contraction doesn’t hit hard—it progresses slowly until you can’t take the pressure…

“Deep breath and a nice, slow push…good! Slow and steady. We have an appearance.”

“We do?”

“Hopefully you’ll only have a moment to rest, and then one push should give us your first born.”

She’s right. You get three full breaths before the next one comes, and when you push, you think Seungmin might crush your fingers under his grip.

“Good…keep pushing, very good. There he is, baby boy number one.”

All you see is the top of her head as she works quietly, and Haneul is quiet, too. Seungmin doesn’t move, but he does soften his grip.

“You worked hard, little one. I know you can cry for us.”

Seungmin takes a step towards them. “What’s wrong?” He’s wrapped and cradled in her arms, and sees a tiny foot and the briefest glimps of his face as he’s handed to one of the nurses. “Is he okay?”

“Just making sure his airways are clear, no need to worry.”

The nurse suctions his mouth and each nostril before setting him down and pulling at his blanket, and it’s right now that Seungmin gets his first real look him Haneul. Too small, but otherwise, he looks just like he imagined him all this time. There’s more hair on his head, though—for some reason, he wasn’t expecting so much already. His quiet cry finally comes, and everyone sighs in relief. It gets louder and louder until he’s wrapped up tight again.

“He sounds pretty strong for barely twenty-six weeks. Let’s get him comfortable, and after little brother arrives, we’ll bring them back in for a visit.”

The doctor takes her place between your legs again, and you try your best to tell him it’s time. Following his brother out should come naturally, right? You would really prefer them to only be minutes apart, because if you have to wait another ten—twenty minutes like this, you’re going to start crying.

“Hey, you okay?” Seungmin cups your cheeks and makes you look at him.

“Did you see him?”

“A little, yeah”

Lucky you; the contraction hits quickly, and it’s the worst one. The partial numbness is fading, and it might be in your head, but you’re certain you feel every part of him as he makes his way out. No scream, though. You decide to do that inside your own head so Haesung comes out to a calmer, more peaceful room

“Oh, that was fast…very good”

Seungmin doesn’t inch closer for a look; he retreats until he’s at your side again, and you wonder if he’s afraid of not hearing another little cry. His stare gives you his answer. “He’ll be okay. They’ll both be okay.”

The doctor stands, and you see him as she turns and heads toward the table. Again, just like his brother, his airways are cleared. And Seungmin inches closer.

“Please, don’t punish him for what I’ve done”

You hear him whisper, and you wonder if anyone else does.

She looks back and beckons him closer, and he hesitates again. “Come here and say something to him.”

Seungmin takes a few steps closer, and when he finally sees Haesung, he can’t believe how small he is. Smaller than his brother, he thinks, and with a little less hair. “Hi baby. Haesung, do you know who I am?”

You can make out almost every word of his soft, slow Korean from here. It feels strange to understand him after so much trying, but you do. He shifts a little so you can see better; you can see both of them as Seungmin runs his finger across an arm that isn’t much different in size. There’s still no dramatic cry, but he’s moving the only way something so new and weak can manage, and you do hear the tiny fussy noises all the way across the room. The doctor doesn’t seem worried, so you aren’t either.

***

Being left in the room alone to wait and wonder is excruciating...so much more difficult than anything has been the last twenty-four hours. There’s so much you can say to him, and ask him, but it’s not the time. It might not be the time until his friend questions and accuses Seungmin of the things you know he witnessed. This is really the only way to keep your mind off of the twins—you have to wonder if Heecheol is putting the Haldol and the strange behavior together; your question about him wandering into the woods as a child; his failed attempt to open up about something to both of you.

“Is Heecheol still here?”

“I think so. I let him know what was going on a few minutes ago, but he hasn’t responded yet.”

“Okay, let me know when he does”

The nurse finally returns, and she’s pulling something in behind her. The second nurse pushes from the other end, and you finally get your second wind. It no longer feels like you're running on almost no sleep. They’re here, and they must be okay if they’re coming to visit. No doctor coming in alone to break the bad news that one, or both of them, have a very slim chance of making it more than a few days. A few hours. You kept trying to prepare yourself for that moment to come, just in case, but no amount of that could ever make things any easier.

And you’re pleased to see a new, much happier looking nurse with them. She must be one of their new carers in the NICU.

“Baby Haneul is 1.3 kilograms, much bigger than we expected! Baby Haesung is 1.14 kilograms. They are both breathing well with a little bit of help from the incubator, and they are very excited to see you.”

Seungmin backs away as they’re rolled closer to the bed. Everything still feels a little bit dreamy to him, even as he looks down and sees them, face to face, arms carefully entertwined as if they can't get close enough. "They're both alright?" They were safe inside of you. They were warm, and well fed. Every night, Seungmin spoke to them, or read them stories. A few times, he sang. And now…

"Haesung is not quite as strong as his brother, but being cuddled up together will help get him there."

"It will?"

The nurse nods at both of you. "I'll leave the four of you alone to meet each other, but please ring the bell if you need anything."

She leaves, and suddenly, it's just him…and you…and them. The four of you. He sits so he can be at eye level and takes in everything about them; the little bit of dark hair, and tiny noses. Their perfect tiny lips, pursing and puckering as if they're waiting for their first real meal.

“They have your ears”

Seungmin cups his hands over them, “do they?” He tugs at his earlobes and smiles as he examines a little closer. “Can we touch them?”

“Yeah, you can”

This part is hard for him, no matter how excited he is. Before he reaches, you watch him get up and walk across the room where the sink is, and he washes his hands for the third time since they were taken from the room. He takes his time, inching closer and closer until Haneul shifts, and Seungmin’s fingertip moves softly across his shoulder. He squirms a little, and his arms seem to tighten around his brother. Now he’s feeling more confident, and he very gently runs the same finger over the helix of his ear. And then he does the same to Haesung. “Can you hear me in there?” Seungmin asks. “Do you recognize my voice?”

They both move and fuss a little more, as if answering.

“I think they do”

“You understood what I said?”

You wince as you adjust yourself and sit up. “Uh, I think so—mogsoli…nae mogsoli. Your voice…yeah, they know your voice, Min.”

“Gimme your hand.” He wiggles his fingers above them, close to the portal hole on your side, and he latches onto your fingers.

67 notes · View notes

vinc3nt-real · 1 month ago

Text

i know basically nothing about crk but i have absolutely fallen in love with shadow milk’s design

#crk fanart #cookie run kingdom #crk #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk crk #gijinka #crk gijinka #cr kingdom #shadow milk fanart #i think he killed someone but like COME ON LOOK AT HIM HES SO SILLY #my art

15 notes · View notes

swordmaid · 8 months ago

Text

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

#the whole setting is jb hanging out in the rock post war #and tyrion became lord of the westerlands / the rock is his but he’s off doing stuff in kingslanding and jaime is just filling in for him #atm . but after tyrion comes back his original plan WAS he’ll get married to brienne right away and they can move back to tarth or be #travelling hedge knights together or whatever brienne wants to do he’s down for it. but the important thing is that he wants to stay with #her .. so he’s using the time they have together currently to court her bc she deserves that at least !!#so jaime goes off trying to court and woo brienne but she just thinks they’re hanging out bc they got relatively close in the war #so jaime being touchy feely isn’t anything new. jaime making innuendos and being kinda flirty isn’t anything new either #but this time he means it LOL he’s like I want to kiss you SO badly and brienne will be like lol silly jaime (:#I was also thinking they’d help rebuild lannisport just bc it’s a time for healing now and it would be good for the people to get to know #jaime and the lannisters in general bc of how they would just used to sit high above the rock looking down on everyone #but now jaime is like. actively helping and being known and being with the people rather than just being that absent distant lord #also he’s thinking he might as well try and foster some relationship with the commoners to his house bc it’s for tyrion anyway #so he’s off doing that and brienne is tagging along bc she does not want to go home yet #she wants to stay with him and she’s helping out as an excuse to stay a little longer but she doesn’t exactly want to leave him #but how do you tell someone that and ignore the big glaring part that she’s actually in love with him and the fact that they both survived #the war is getting her hopeful???? u want her to admit that?? like a normal person??? no..!!#so she’s just staying and helping out bc a) it’s the sensible thing to do b) so she can bask on the sun that is Jaime Lannister #for like a few more days. weeks. maybe a month bc the weather is soooo bad in the stormlands rn 🙄😳#anyway jb hanging out! and everything is going well and good but jaime is now getting popular w the people and he’s also looking quite #rugged and handsome post war now that he’s thirty flirty and thriving and he also has a new scar across his lip that makes his #smirks even more ! rogueish … ! and he looks quite nice with the greying hair 👀 so now there’s gossips around him #not to mention he’s single too and I think if you were one of the heroes who helped win the war they’ll forget the kingslaying #man with no honor business so lo and behold brienne eavesdrops a group of ladies bc she’s a chismosa at heart and they’re talking about a #potential marriage for a lord lannister (!!!) and there’s going to be a big tourney held in Kingslanding for it (!!!)#and brienne remembers jaime mentioning the ought to go to Kingslanding in the next few weeks (!!!) and now she’s remembering jaime IS a #lord though not theee lord of the westerlands STILL a lord from one of the seven houses and he’s single and very eligible for marriage rn #and now she’s realising everything is returning back the way it was before the war where society rules matters and she has her own role as #now the evenstar bc rip selwyn and jaime has his own role too and the court is a whole different battlefield #one that she isn’t equipped in and even though she had found some new confidence in herself bc killing a bunch of ice invisible zombies #with your own magic sword will do that for you she doesn’t think (and she’s being objective not negative) she stands a chance in THAT

100 notes · View notes

skitskatdacat63 · 1 year ago

Text

For everyone who wanted bullfighter Nando when I mentioned it the other day, here you go :D

+ this one I don't feel like coloring yet(imagine he's in Ferrari colors!!!)

#did you know bullfighters dedicate their kill to a friend or member of the public by giving them their hat?#i really wanted to draw silly vettonso where fernando offers seb his hat #seb retires from bullfighting(yeah its an au now) and fernando in his green costume is like;#'here is my hat. now will you come back from retirement? 🥺'#but yeah feel very abnormal abt that ^ and also the thing abt them having someone who helps them get into their costume as a sacred ritual #theres just a lot of thoughts and ideas floating around in my head bcs of it #anyways i liked drawing this but it was very suffering too and took me like 5 hours #its like. you see the intricate embroidery and im like ah! omg! i love painting details!!!#and then remember im not the best w coming up with ideas for the embroidery pattern itself #so pls bear with me 😭😭 mainly i was trying to reference the diamond logo of renault #but most of it kinda just ended up being austrian knots i guess bcs thats what my mind defaults to #i thought the shoulder pad would be the most difficult but that came together the easiest and made the rest actually work in my head #aaahhh also im surprised w the angle of his face! im usually not good at side profiles as well as tilted down heads #but i think he looks pretty good honestly???#also w the sketch i just wanted to post it bcs i liked his face okay 😭😭��#i wanted to paint it too but I realized im so naive thinking i could paint two of these horrifically detailed things in one session #but his face 🥹🥹 i like it!!! theres some renault era pic of him i really like where hes sun drenched and angry looking #^ and i think i captured the vibe well so!!!!!#well anyways mayhe ill draw more of this. it was fun but also like sucked my life force out bcs it kept going from easy to 'I CANT DO THIS'#the pictures of matadors are just...insane to me. tiny waist fat ass flamboyant costume. im dead 🫠#f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso #catie.art.#fa14 #matador au

98 notes · View notes

sysig · 9 months ago

Photo

One better (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #Damned #ZEX #Blood #I knew going into this and it was still so distressing :'0 #Who needs plot twists when you can create such an intense sense of Dread #Probably doesn't help that I read this At Night In the Dark lol - actual shivers #Gods this was a hard scene to read - there have been several instances of my face hurting from furrowing my brow so hard haha #The way that ''Doctor'' is written is So skillful - I'm so impressed by everyone's prose and quirks and syntax!#Not to mention when he breaks character in a later scene to apologize for taking a bit to move the scene along haha <3 Play!!#It really does speak to just how much skill and effort is put into everything <3 It's so well done all the way around!!#Anyway to the actual scene at hand lol ow :') Drawing blood is always fun but I wish it wasn't his ;u;#Ugh the way he takes the surgeries is so well written - fear of course but a kind of stoic suffering as much as he's able to -#Until it comes to his eye #Ugh the /break/ of it all he goes from so eloquent - almost snarky and silly! Still trying to find an out make peace do /something/#It all goes completely out the window he's so /reduced/ and nothing hurts worse than that ughughugh #For all his intelligence and wit and prior successes and charm and just - everything that makes him /him/ to be dissolved into abject fear #It's so sad ;; And so well done <3 #And he still holds enough of himself to know what he'd be losing wegh it's so sad!! He's so defined by his vision as most VUX are it's fjdsl #Zelnick is already gone by this point but I wanted to throw him in for extra sad flavour :')#Plus - I've mentioned his post-Op was one of the ones from the gallery that Actively kills me every time I look at it #Can you imagine my heartbreak to find out that he didn't have his Captain to comfort him after this in actuality? That he was fully alone?#''Are we home? Is it over?'' ''N...not yet'' - The Absolute Devastation of realizing that Never Was not really #Just tear my heart out why don't you ugh I'm fully bleeding out 💔#That last one is actually meant to be Max but it's open to interpretation :)#I think it's such a waste that his eye was just disposed of! Someone else could've used that (lol)#I do think there's something to the idea of seeing what used to be a part of your body elsewhere - like the Leftovers!#Even just keeping as a memento tho - a trophy - insult to injury but literally #Just points to no one being special and nothing being sacred I suppose

9 notes · View notes

the-casbah-way · 1 month ago

Text

i found loads of pictures of my uncle i am going 2 cry

#he looked so sweet…..he looks SO much like my dad #i found the last picture of him that my granddad took a month or so before he died it’s so sad #trying to decide if i should tell my mum that i know about him or if i should just keep it to myself #idk if somethings wrong with me maybe it’s because i was already grieving before i found out #but it’s really getting 2 me i can’t concentrate on my uni shit i just keep thinking about it #i think i rlly need to talk about it with someone but i have no idea who or how or what i’d say. but it’s weird because it’s a secret yk #like i’m not even supposed to know he existed #idk. i have a gender clinic appointment next week and i’m going to ask if they can recommend any therapists #me being very very brave and trying therapy again after being forced into it my whole life and ending up a bit traumatised #idk. i feel bad that i’m alive and i’m wasting my life when my uncle got killed when he was just a kid #it makes me feel like i should be more grateful and do more with myself.#and i am going to try but i’d rather he was here instead. same with my granddad #every time i experience something beautiful or good i wish my granddad could experience it because he deserved it more than me #and the best i can do is experience it for him and be grateful. but i would chance places instantly if i could #him and his kid deserve to be here they were so special. i know i don’t know his kid but i’ve heard they were similar #so i know he must have been special too #i found a fb comment today from a family friend i’ve never met and she was saying that she only met my granddad once #but she called him gentle and it made me cry. because he was very scottish and sweary and traditional and masculine #so everyone just assumed he was tough and scary but if you knew him he was really quiet and kind #and i’m glad someone who only met him once could see that #i’m going to be half asleep for the rest of my life i think. i’ve been dreaming since my granddad died and i don’t feel like i ever woke up #nothing has felt real since i was nine years old. everything just stopped and never started again #i’ve just been waiting. i’m waiting for him to change his mind and come back. idk. i don’t know what to do with myself #and i continuously feel fucking insane and stupid for being this way. it’s like fresh grief all the fucking time #but it was fifteen years ago. why does it still feel this way #i can’t even tell people because they won’t understand why i’m still so bothered by it #he was my parent for nine years. i lived with him he was my sole caretaker #i was nonverbal and him and my brother were the only people on the planet who knew what my voice sounded like #he’d think it was silly if i failed my exam because i was crying about him instead #he’d tell me to whisht and stick in. so i will

6 notes · View notes

toyogamii · 5 months ago

Text

pt.1 pt.2

“i didn’t take you for the sit down restaurant type, ryo,” you bring your drink up to your lips and offer him a teasing smirk. he huffs and pulls at the collar of his black button down.

he doesn’t know how the hell you managed to get him, ryomen sukuna, resident town bad ass; on an actual date. but the way that sweet nickname you’ve taken to calling him rolls of your tongue might have something to do with it.

“hah, I’m usually not… figured you might be though,” he mumbles the last part, his ears turning a slight pink and you grin.

“well i appreciate you trying something new for me,” you look around at the candles and the suits and ties and most importantly at the gorgeous tattooed man in front of you (who looks so awkward in the most adorable way possible).

“however,” you continue, “i’d much rather you be comfortable for our date.”

“yeah?” he asks, giving you a grateful smile.

you nod.

“wanna get outta here?”

he flashes you a charming grin.

“hell yeah… though you might regret asking that, sweetheart.”

mere moments later you’re flying down the road, your heart pounding as you hold tight to sukuna’s waist. he’s graceful and calm as he drives the motorcycle but that does little to slow your breathing.

you’re wearing his helmet, but even through the darkened screen you can still see just how handsome he is. the street lights give him a halo like effect and the wind whips through his pink hair, pushing it out of his face.

“just a couple more minutes, doll!” he hollers over the sound of the wind and you nod, leaning your head on his broad back as best you can.

when he finally comes to a stop and you get off, your legs are still shaking and you take just a minute to gather yourself before looking around.

“takin me to a second location to dump my body off?” you ask, a brow raised.

sukuna gives you a dead pan look and pulls the helmet off your head. he freezes for just a minute as he takes in the way your hair is a mess and your makeup is a bit smudged but your eyes are crinkling and your smile is- god your smile is gonna fucking kill him one of these days.

“not funny,” he replies when he finally moves, flicking your forehead. you scrunch your face into a pout and god he wants to kiss you silly.

“where are we exactly?”

“come on.”

he turns and walks off and you hurry to catch up with him, slipping your hand into his. it takes everything in him not implode. your hand is warm and soft and so much smaller than his.

you’re killing him, he thinks, and yet… he doesn’t really seem to mind it. usually, the sound of someone rambling on and on would annoy the piss out of him. but listening to you chatter as he guides the both of you through the dark and dense patch of trees… if you’re killing him, he could die a happy man.

“we’re here,” he says. you peek around in him and gasp softly. you’re on a hill, overlooking the entirety of your home town. the street lights blare and you can hear the faint sounds of the city but the contrasting of the soft twinkling stars and the warmth of sukuna’s hand in yours has you reeling.

“it’s beautiful,” you murmur.

“i used to take yuuji here… before i had full custody of him. just to get him away from all… that.”

you nod and rest your head on his shoulder, not pushing him any further.

“i’m sure he loved it.”

sukuna chuckles and his arm makes its way around your waist.

“yeah, little brat would cry and cry when we had to leave. he won’t even remember it when he’s older though.”

you look up at him only to see he’s already looking down at you.

“you’ll remember it.”

“… yeah.”

there’s silence, a pause where time stops and suddenly the rest of the world fades away to nothing. it’s just you and him in a little bubble, away from all the craziness of the world.

before you can open your mouth to say anything, sukuna’s lips on yours. the kiss is everything that he isn’t; soft, gentle, hesitant. your arms come up to wrap around his neck and his grip on your waist tightens.

he never wants to stop kissing you. he can’t get enough of the way your tongue feels sliding against his and how your body trembles slightly as he holds you.

yeah… you’re gonna kill him one of these days, he just knows it.

pt. 4

#hehehe the long awaited pt 3 #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #big brother!sukuna #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff

3K notes · View notes

obsessedwrhys · 9 months ago

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

4K notes · View notes

suiana · 4 months ago

Text

yandere! parasite who decides to inhabit your body after observing you from his previous host. you're so cute! you'll definitely be a lot more comfortable to be in over this... fumbling fool that's obsessed with you.

the switch is seamless and you don't even realize that you have a parasite in you until he speaks.

you were stunned, where did this voice come from? you look around you, thinking your boss or coworker had called for you... only for the face of a... translucent and handsome looking man to appear right in front of you.

"hey!"

"what the- where did you come from? wait a minute who even are you?"

"you're so silly. isn't it obvious that i'm a parasite and you're my host?"

"a... parasite?"

you freak out, thinking you have brain eating worms in you as you break down in the middle of your job. fortunately, the lovely parasite in you takes the time to comfort you through your brain.

he tells you that he won't kill you and that he's a symbiotic parasite. that he'll just co-exist with you for as long as you live. that he won't interrupt your life whatsoever, he just needs a place to stay, you know?

at least that's what he tells you and himself.

unbeknownst to him, he had... unfortunately adopted certain characteristics from his previous host. and what did that include? his obsession of course.

he doesn't notice it at first. he was just acting like his normal self, observing your day to day life for about a month or two while interacting happily with you through brain messages. everything was fine and dandy! nothing out of the ordinary for the both of you except for the fact that you now had a parasite in your brain.

and he was quite useful actually! improving your health, boosting your physical strength and stuff... it was so freaking cool! you never knew you could do all these things!

plus, he was so sweet! you two were definitely like a pair of really good friends even if you just met a month or two ago! he's just perfect!

that was, until he saw someone confessing to you.

he didn't understand what was going on. why did his chest tighten up at the sight of some other person confessing their love to you? why does he feel a sudden rush of... anger?

he turns to watch what you do and he swears he only feels more anger at how you react. cheeks flushed, pupils dilated...

no, he couldn't have that.

meanwhile, you were totally flattered by the sudden confession. especially when it was from this cute nerd from the IT department! maybe you'll accept- wait, wait, wait! why was your body moving on its own?!

"you belong to me."

the parasite in your brain mumbles as you lose all control of your body and begin walking away from your admirer. what the?! he's never done this before! why's he taking control of your body?!

"hey! give my body back!"

"how could you do this to me? i am hurt, my dear host."

you couldn't even respond, too shocked to even say anything before you try to resust again. obviously it wouldn't work but it doesn't hurt to try.

"hey cut it out! i thought you said we're just living together? what's this? you totally messed up my chances of getting with someone!"

you were about to snap back when you feel a cold dread creep up your spine. shit, you forgot he could control everything in your body.

you could only watch in horror as he brings your body back to your apartment before he forces your body onto your bed. his translucent body appears in your vision once more, pinning you to the bed. you couldn't even resist even if you tried. he controlled your brain after all.

"you're my host, therefore, you are mine. i do not understand what's so hard to understand."

gritting your teeth, you could only allow this parasitic admirer of yours to stare down at you while grinding his hips into yours. damn, what's he trying to-

"hah... you're so cute... i love you so much... can i explore you? I'm so curious. I've always looked away when you were bare but..."

you couldn't even say no if you tried. your body was responding on its own. damn it! his brain controlling abilities were too good! maybe you should be a parasite in your next life.

"ah... is that a yes? god, i love you. i love you, i love you... i love you so much my darling host."

...

were you about to have mental sex with the parasite living in your body right now?!

#yandere #tw yandere #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #yandere concepts #yandere parasite #yandere parasite x reader #gn reader #suiana rambling #suiana brainrotting

1K notes · View notes

osaemu · 1 year ago

Text

GOJO SATORU: ❛❛ BEGINNER'S LUCK ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ streamer!au: you beat him at his own game on livestream, and it's your first time playing

contents: fem!reader. gojo gets slandered by everyone </3 but he slanders toji. again. vague descriptions of what game you guys are playing, imagine whichever game u want.

author's note: thinkin' about making streamer!gojo a series, stay tuned ...

"so you're gonna want to click that when someone attacks you," satoru informs you, hand on your shoulder. his chin rests on the top of your head as he watches you learn the in's and out's of some game he's well-known for streaming. "no, not that one, silly. the other one."

you groan and make a face at the screen in exasperation. "why do all the buttons look the same?" you grumble, drumming your fingers on the table next to his luminescent keyboard. "you better go easy on me when we go live."

satoru laughs and kisses the top of your head before strolling over to his own plush seat next to you. "don't worry, sweetheart. i will, i promise."

a couple minutes later, satoru starts chatting with his thousands of viewers as you puzzle over how to join his co-op lobby.

toji-fushiguro: is your gf gonna join? ;)

you hear satoru scoff and see him lean closer to the monitor, squinting at the message that mentions you. "i remember you," satoru huffs, white hair falling into his eyes. "you better stop bringing her up or i'll block you, fishface."

a small laugh bubbles out of your lips as satoru continues addressing the flood of comments asking about you. in his last stream, he had mentioned thinking about teaching you to play the game he got famous for, and his viewers reacted more than enthusiastically. "wow, you guys really want to see me win against my own girlfriend?" satoru tsks, wagging his finger at the screen. "nah, i promised i'd go easy on her. i like her more than you faceless strangers on the internet. i'm looking at you, toji."

"satoru?" you whisper, scrunching up your nose when he immediately turns to you, all thoughts of publicly humiliating toji set aside. "how do i... join a co-op session?"

your boyfriend grins and leans over, clicking a couple buttons in too fast of a sequence for you to follow, and soon enough, your avatar stands next to satoru's. "there!"

"thanks," you huff, watching him slide back into his chair and banter with a couple more comments. and moments later, the game starts. satoru starts out with a play-by-play of his actions, making it really easy for you to piece together the strategy and techniques of the game. to your surprise, you don't die that easily — in fact, you eliminate five other players before retreating to the top of a tree to hide.

a couple kills later, you and satoru are some of the last people on the map. satoru makes quick work of the leftovers before stretching his arms and grinning smugly. "looks like i trained you well, darling," he calls, briefly turning to you and blowing a kiss. "now, where are you? come out and let me catch you, baby."

you hum in response, not bothering to come down from your tree. thankfully, the leaves are thick enough to obscure your avatar from satoru's view, and he walks right past you without even bothering to check. you grin and lean in closer to the computer, aiming at his blissfully unaware avatar and—

"what the fuck?" satoru yelps when his avatar crumbles to the ground. a message noting his death appears on his screen, and he turns to you immediately, betrayal evident on his shocked expression. "you shot me in the back!" he whines, getting up and looking at your screen in disbelief. "how could you?!"

you stick your tongue out at him smugly. "i win!" you cheer, and satoru splutters in disbelief, stumbling over his words as he watches you reap the rewards of your win. "i can't believe you lost to a beginner," you muse, rubbing in your victory. "maybe i should take over your stream," you continue, fluttering your eyelashes at satoru as he gapes at your screen.

"it's only 'cause i went easy on you!" satoru huffs, walking back to his chair and requesting a rematch. "this time, i won't be so nice."

the next game, satoru doesn't say anything, ocean-blue eyes focused on his own screen. from the stream opened in the corner of your monitor, you see his comments blow up.

suguru-geto: wow you're really off your game today

inumaki: he just sucks wdym

toji-fushiguro: deserved 💯

you think about hiding in a tree again, but decide against it. satoru would probably expect you to repeat that strategy, and for all you know, he might have an item that could help him sneak up on you. so you run off to an area that's relatively flat and keep an eye out for other users. you eliminate two before you catch a glimpse of satoru in a tree, but just a second later, he vanishes.

from the corner of your eye, you see satoru mouth "got you" to his screen, and just in time, you dodge an attack you wouldn't have seen otherwise. somehow, your finger slips, and you shoot without aim. and somehow, your aim was on-point — satoru's avatar falls to its knees once more, and satoru groans in defeat.

"why are you good at this?" satoru grumbles, jumping off his seat and strolling over to wear you sit with a cocky smile on your lips. he all but abandons his stream as he walks over and pokes you childishly. satoru watches you eliminate the last two users, and he scoffs at the emblem of victory that lights up your screen. he kisses you begrudgingly and mutters something about losing a bet, to which you kiss his nose affectionately.

"but really," satoru whines, plopping back down in his chair and swiveling it to face you. "how are you so good?! and shut up suguru," he snipes, leering at the chat. "i'm doing fine, she's just insane! and you too, inumaki. there's a reason all your fans are regulars on my stream! because you suck!" at that, you snicker, spinning around in your own chair and half-watching the chat blow up with more of his viewers' thoughts.

inumaki: SHUT UP U JUST LOST TO A FIRST TIMER

megumi-fushiguro: real

"oh, shut it, other-fushiguro," satoru scoffs, narrowing his eyes at the chatbox. "at least my hair doesn't look like how little kids draw grass."

you cover your mouth with your hand to stifle the laugh threatening to slip out, but when satoru turns and pouts at you, you can't help it. he's so petty and stubborn, but his eyes soften when he sees how big your smile is. and, not to your surprise, he matches your grin with one of his own. satoru draws a heart in the air with both his index fingers and scrunches up his nose at you, and your heart melts.

"you're so stupid," you mumble, watching him kick his feet like an antsy five year-old. satoru opens his arms in response, and no more than two seconds pass before you're nestled in his lap. he's wearing a light blue hoodie and white sweats, and nothing could make you more comfortable than that in the world. you turn your head and make eye contact with satoru's camera, and smile at the flood of comments on how cute you two look together.

yuuji-itadori: awww its kinda cute

suguru-geto: sooo down bad tbh

toji-fushiguro: you gotta be f*cking kidding me

satoru kisses the side of your face while glaring at the screen, and eventually he presses his lips to your ear and whispers, "wanna end the stream? there's too many people watching and i wanna keep you all to myself."

"hehe, let's do it!"

5K notes · View notes

godmadeaterribleerror · 4 days ago

Text

Just Giving In

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, truth curses (with a silly twist!), light fluff, angst, smut (fingering, p in v sex, creampie), love confessions, no use of y/n

Summary/Warnings: You're under a very annoying truth curse. The kind of truth curse that will kill you if one very specific, Dean-related truth isn't told. But apparently no one's allowed to just die in peace anymore.

Author's Note: It's amazing how I'm able to delude myself into truly believing that I'll actually write something short and only horny. No. We must write 3k of story and 5k of emotional smut. Enjoy!

Title from Never Let Me Go by Florence + the Machine

Word Count: 8.6k

It’s past midnight when you get back to the bunker.

You were supposed to be back that afternoon, but certain complications arose, and you’re back now. You’ll have a long, sleepless night to come up with an excuse for why exactly you were five hours late, didn’t text Sam and Dean that you were going to be five hours late, where exactly you were in the first place, and why the car looks like that. Scraped and dented and wrecked, like it had been put through a meat grinder and spat out in a hunk of metal that somehow didn’t explode when you drove it.

You’re glad you didn’t take the Impala. If Dean yelled at you right now, you might start crying on the spot. Thankfully—in what should be a rare stroke of luck, but feels like a dagger right into your stomach—Sam and Dean seem to have given up on trying to wait for you to come home, so you’re free to retreat to your room and cry in private, like any reasonable adult who’s probably going to die within the week would-

“You’re back.”

A light behind you flicks on as Dean snaps from across the room, and you grimace as everything inverts. Dean did wait up for you, and that’s tiny and electric high that goes right up your spine. You’re also not lucky, but that just feels like a given at this point.

You will not cry in front of Dean. You have spent the whole night repeating to yourself that, no matter what happens here, you will not cry in front of Dean. He either think nothing of this week, and it will fade into the distance as you figure this out yourself and he never knows, or he’ll look back on it with nothing but simple grief and anger, remember you fondly and furiously instead of as a weak, emotional, manipulative bitch. Remembers you as the person you’ve spent so long proving yourself to be, instead of the feral girl they’d found you as.

It doesn’t make turning around to face him any easier. He’s sitting in his usual chair, glaring at you with his arms crossed, and there are bags under his eyes that you put there. A tight line to his lips that’s your responsibility, because you’d fucked up and he knows it. He always knows it.

Because you fuck up a lot.

“Hey, Dean, what’s up-“

“What’s up?” He snaps, and you have to force your body not to flinch. “You’re crawling back here at one in the goddamn morning without ever, I don’t know, thinking to fucking call when you realized you’d be late, and you’re saying what’s up?”

You swallow. “I lost my phone.”

“You, fuck-“ Dean rubs his jaw with a hand, giving you a look of pure disbelief. “You could’ve borrow someone’s, or prayed to Cas, or just, goddamnit-“ he mutters your name, looking at you with an exhaustion that makes your gut flail. “Where the hell even were you?”

“Um,” you glance down at your hands. “Hunt?”

“Hunt.” His voice is flat, and you wince. “That’s all you’re going to say.”

You nod. “Rowena called me. Needed help with something.”

“And you just fucking went with her, without telling anyone-“

“I didn’t just go with her, I brought a gun. I was careful.” you try to stand a little taller, looking back up to Dean, because you need to sell your half-truth of a story and get out of here. Out of where Dean’s just right there, and it’s making your skin crawl and your blood cold and your eyes push out of your skull the longer you lie to him. “And I did tell Cas-“

“Son of a bitch, that’s not enough.” Dean groans, pushing out of the chair to glower down at you. It’s an intimidation tactic you’ve seen him use before, where he makes himself large and furious, almost beast like. Sometimes it makes him look bigger than Sam, and he only pulls it out when he’s furious, and demanding answers. You don’t think he knows that, when he uses it on you, it does not have the intended effect.

“Dean-“

“Cas didn’t tell us.” Dean hisses your name, stalking across the room and getting far too close for your brain to function properly. “You need to tell us, because we were, I was-“ Dean cuts himself off with a grunt, his whole body rigid as he scans over your face.

“I’m sorry.” You mumble, and it’s the truth, so it’s like clear, fresh water over your head and down your throat. “I didn’t mean to freak you guys out. I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.”

“You didn’t-” Dean’s jaw is clenched, and his words seem pushed through his teeth. “Just go to bed,” he mutters your name, and you feel something in your chest snap. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

You nod weakly, and almost run away from him. But not to bed. You’ve already blown this up way too much to just go to bed.

You go right to Sam’s room and bang on the door, keeping a careful eye over your shoulder for Dean to walk into the hall.

It takes a very long, tense minute, but eventually you hear a groan from the other side of the door, tired words muffled through the wood.

“Dean, she’ll be back, and you’re not helping anything-“ The door swings open to reveal a messy haired, bleary-eyed Sam, and he blinks at you with a frown. “Oh, you’re back. You should go tell Dean-“

“He knows.”

“Cool, that’s good.” Sam scans over you—bouncing slightly on your feet, every movement and breath feeling frantic and borrowed—and frowns. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

“Oh, uh, you need to talk about it-“

You don’t bother to answer, pushing past Sam into his room and dropping on the end of his mattress, watching him blink at you, his frown deepening every second.

“Yeah, you can come in-“

“Can you please close the door?” You whisper, like Dean might somehow hear from wherever he’d gone after your fight.

Sam nods slowly, and the movement you hear the click of the doorknob, the words start to fall out of you like vomit.

“I fucked up, Sam. I really, really fucked up, it’s bad, I’m fucking fucked-“

“Woah, slow down.” Sam moves across the room, running a hand through his hair. “Just, start from the top. Where were you-“

“Rowena called me for help. Some sort of coven drama, she said she needed some backup because her magic was weakened.” You take a long, shaky breath, unable to look anywhere but the corner of Sam’s carpet. “I told Cas, just in case it was a trap, and left. I owed her a favor-“

“Wait, since when did you owe Rowena a favor-“

“Mark of Cain.” You mumble. “I told her I’d owe her if she helped Dean. One favor, cashable on anything.”

Sam says your name slowly. “You didn’t need to do that, we would have figured it out. I mean, Dean wouldn’t want you to-“

“I know, I don’t need you to-“ You sigh, squeezing your eyes shut. “Can we focus on one stupid choice at a time, please?”

“Yeah, sorry, keep going. Why are you fucked.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek, and decide to skip most of the details. Sam did not need to know about how the case was indeed at trap, or how you’d known it was a trap, but the favor had been a blood oath, so you weren’t able to run or call them. He didn’t need to know how you’d mowed down about five witches with the car—the sickening crunch still rattling around your skull—or how it wasn’t just blood and sweat on your brow, but something from an animal you’d really hoped you’d mistranslated from Latin.

He just needs to know the reason you hadn’t killed Rowena when you’d escaped and taken out the rest of the coven.

He just needs to know about the problem.

“It went to shit. Really big shit, Sam. I’m kind of… cursed.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and when you finally gather the confidence to look at Sam, he’s gaping at you, frozen in place.

“What do you mean,” his voice is low, every word slow and deliberate. “Kind of cursed.”

“I mean very cursed.” You mumble. “Really fucking cursed.”

“Shit.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I said you were probably fine, Dean’s gonna kill me-“

“No!” You stand up frantically, your voice almost a squeak. “Don’t tell Dean!”

“Why the hell wouldn’t I tell Dean?!” Sam snaps, looking at you like you’ve gone insane. “If you’re really cursed, we need all hands, and Dean-“

“He can’t know, Sam, please.” You might start crying, every word choked in your throat. “Don’t tell him.”

“I…” Sam trials off, his face dropping into a deep frown that seems to be mostly made of worry as he says your name. “What, exactly, is the curse?”

You sigh, hugging yourself as you speak. “If I don’t resolve my deepest secret, I’ll die.”

Sam blinks. “Like, die die? Death die?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” His eyes widen as the situation fully sinks in, his whole body going slack as he pulls the pieces together. “Fuck.”

You hum a soft agreement. “Fuck.”

“And why can’t I tell Dean? I mean, he’ll want to help-“

“You know why.” You whisper. “Please don’t make me say it.”

“Fuck.” Sam groans. “And you’d rather die than-“

“Yes.” You lower yourself down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you stare ahead at nothing. “I’m sorry, Sam, I just. I can’t. I don’t-“ You taste the sting of metal as you bite through your cheek. “I don’t know what to do. I’m going to d-“ You cut yourself off with a choked sound, and hear the bed shift as Sam drops at your side and pulls you into a gentle hug.

“We’ll figure it out.” He mutters your name, and you make another weak, strangled noise. “I promise. You’re going to be okay.”

Over your first, weak sob, you don’t hear the door open. You only know it opens because Dean clears his throat, and your blood turns white-hot in your body, caught between embarrassment and nerves and a deep, soft and starved piece of your heart that’s trying to climb into your limbs and rip your body away from Sam’s to fly to Dean’s.

“Sammy, she-“ He cuts himself off as he sees you, and you die a little at how he says your name. Like he hates it. “You’re in here.”

You nod, keeping your face angled down, and you hear Dean shift slightly in the doorway.

“Why are you in Sam’s room.”

There’s no good answer for that, and Sam doesn’t seem to have one either. There’s no plausible lie for why you’re on the floor on Sam’s room, why you’re sniffling, and why he’s hugging you that doesn’t sound insane. Even the truth wouldn’t exactly be an easy sell.

And it hurts. When Dean just sighs and grunts that he doesn’t want to know—that you and Sam can go back to fucking braiding each other’s hair or whatever—and stomps out of the room, it’s like a knife to your gut. But you can’t tell him. Not the truth. Not any of it.

So this will only be the first knife. And you’d worry about what you would be telling him when this was over—how you could possibly explain yourself—if you had any faith you were going to get out of this.

But you don’t. The week crawls on, and it all only gets so much worse. Vague illness starts to feel like you’re being mauled from inside, and Dean’s anger turns to bullets.

You spend most of your days in the library with Sam, combing through book after book, looking for anything about how you can fix this, and every time Dean walks in, he looks like he wants to punch someone. Like he’s disgusted by your very presence where he can see you, like you’re a spider that’s crawled into his house and he can’t even stand the sight of you.

“I’m getting dinner.” He snaps on the third night, and when you look up from your book—Sam standing behind you, having hunched over your body to read the passage you’d been pointing to—Dean’s jaw is clenched, his fists curled at his side. “Neither of you got groceries, so I’m ordering. What do you want.”

His voice is flat. It makes your chest feel like it’s being run over by a train.

“I’ll take whatever you get.” You offer him a small smile, because you can’t help yourself, and it just makes him glare more. “But can I please have a milkshake as well?”

Dean narrows his eyes at you. “You don’t know where the hell I’m going.”

“You’re going to the diner, Dean.” You shrug. “You always go to the diner.”

He grunts, something hot flashing over his face that you don’t understand. “Fine. Milkshake.”

He doesn’t bother to ask any follow-up questions. He doesn’t bother to wait for Sam to say what he wants. Dean just marches up to the garage, vanishes for an hour—the diner is ten minutes away, and you start to feel your stomach and heart twist the longer he’s gone—and returns with a slam of the door, throwing a salad at Sam and placing a burger and milkshake in front of you before stomping out of the library.

Dean got your favorite flavor. You hadn’t told him to, but he had.

It tastes like chalk. And you’ve never hated yourself more.

After that, he barely speaks to you. Just low grunts and glowers at you whenever you cross paths, his presence in the bunked suddenly scares. He’d usually sit with you and Sam while you read, cracking unhelpful jokes that make Sam roll his eyes and you giggle, but he’s just gone. Locked in the Dean Cave or the garage, shuffling around the kitchen with a sullen expression, swallowing his dinner whole and refusing to really even look at you.

It hurts more than any anger could. It’s lonely and cancerous the longer it goes on, because you’re still talking to and hanging out with Sam, but he doesn’t count. Your whole heart isn’t orbiting around Sam. The curse is completely indifferent to Sam. The curse doesn’t care when Sam grumbles or frowns at you. It cares when Dean hates you. You think it can feel that this won’t be resolved—because it won’t be, you grow more and more certain with every passing day that this is how you will die—and takes the opportunity to root deeper into your body. Every sneer or glare Dean gives you sits under your nails to claw at your skin. It covers you in sweat in the dead of night, and chokes you when you’re in the shower and the water’s burning your skin.

Sam keeps trying to convince you to just do it, just say the thing to Dean because the worst that can happen is that you’re heartbroken but alive.

“And I really don’t think it would even come to that.” He tells you from across the table at 2am, because you’re running out of time and sleep isn’t something you can even remember how to do anymore. “I mean, it’s Dean-“

“That’s the problem, Samuel.” You hiss. The curse has started to make you mean, and if you make it out alive, you’ll have to buy Sam a million bottles of hair gel to make up for what you’re putting him through. “It’s Dean. He already doesn’t like me-“

Sam frowns. “Why would you think that-“

“Because I’m a responsibility.” You’re spitting, and it tastes like venom. “I’m your kid shadow, I’m Dean’s kid shadow, I’m a burden-“

“You’re not a burden,” Sam says your name slowly. “To either of us. I mean, if what you said about Rowena is true, you saved Dean from the Mark-“

“That doesn’t count. That was just a deal I made-“

“A deal you made for Dean.” Sam’s pushing back. You wish he’d stop. “Most people in our lives wouldn’t have done that for us. And Dean doesn’t think you’re his kid shadow, by the way. I mean, I’ve only ever-“

“Sam.” Your voice is flat. A little broken. “Please don’t. Even if he doesn’t hate me, I- I just can’t-“

“But Dean-“

“Please.” You’re going to cry again. “You won’t convince me.”

Sam sighs, shaking his head. “Well, we need to try something. I’m not just going to let you die.”

You don’t think that’s up to Sam. You don’t think it’s up to anyone anymore. You won’t tell Dean, because you’ve scanned over book after book about spell phrasing, and decided that telling Dean wouldn’t even help. You had to resolve your deepest secret. Rejection that burns your heart to ash, that clouds your lungs and makes you cower and falter won’t be resolving anything, and then you’ll just die in more pain.

You let Sam convince you to try something. More for him than for you. You lock yourself in the bathroom and stare at your hideous reflection in the mirror—your skin a little sunken, your eyes lined with red, your lips raw from being chewed until they bled—and start speaking a whisper, because you can’t stand the sound of your own voice.

“I love Dean Winchester.” You tell yourself, as if you’re not so deeply aware of how your love is tattooed onto your every breath and heartbeat. “I love him. I am going to die, and I love him, and I am very-“ You choke slightly, your eyes stinging as the world blurs. “I am very, very sorry. Not for loving him, but for forcing him to be loved by me. I’m sorry I don’t know how to stop loving him. I’m sorry I’m leaving him. But I am not sorry for loving him. I… I spent a lifetime surrounded by cruel animals who called themselves angels, and he’s the only person I’ve ever- I could believe- I just-“ You drop your head, turning up the faucet to drown out every weak sob and apology. “I love him. And he… he’s too good be obligated to love me. So I think I’ll just…”

You trail off, and crumble onto the tile floor. When you dry your tears and yank yourself back together, Sam’s waiting for you a little down the hall. You shake your head, his shoulders slump, and that’s it. For Sam it’s not—he turns around and marches right back to the library—but for you, it is. You’re done.

You’ll hole up in your room and die alone. Like how’d you’d been meant to all along, lent only a little bit of extra time by Dean saving you to begin with.

And that time had run out. So you’ll just go die alone.

lay flat on your bed as your vision starts to dance with spots, and spend your time trying to image what a heaven you’re not allowed into will look like. Cas has told you every person gets their own, but you don’t really want that. It sounds like more of your life, and it’s pointless to worry about because you’re headed nowhere but down, but you’d still rather spend eternity with someone.

One person. You’d like to spend eternity with one person.

The same person who had somehow gotten into your locked room, and is snapping your name as he stands at the foot of your bed. You’d be angrier he’d just barged in if you could remember how to be anything but in pain. You’d snap back if your mouth knew how to be anything but numb.

“Dean-“

“What the fuck are you doing.” Dean hisses, and you close your eyes, the light suddenly painfully bright. “What the hell is wrong with you.”

“Nothing.” You whisper, and he scoffs.

“Nice shot, sweetheart. I’m not an idiot.”

“I don’t think you’re an idiot, Dean, I just don’t feel well.”

“That’s fucking bullshit-“

You sigh. “It’s not. I’m sick.”

There’s a moment of silence, then, “how sick.”

“Fever.” You mumble. “Stomach bug. Maybe the flu. You should probably leave-“

“No,” he grunts, and you hear his steps. He’s coming closer, and your skin might be boiling off your body. “I’m not leaving you-“

“It’s not leaving if I ask you to go.” You mumble, and you can feel the heat of his body off to the side, can hear his breathing—maybe even his heartbeat—and it’s making everything worse-

“I’m not going.”

“Dean, just, please-“

“No, I’m sick of you fucking ignoring me, and I- I don’t even care what’s going on with you and Sam-“

You frown. “Nothing’s going on with me and Sam-“

“I have eyes,” Dean sneers your name, and there’s a tone in his voice that’s almost wounded. “You were hugging in his room, you’re always fucking whispering and hanging out-“

“That’s not-“ You swallow, dragging your eyes open to find him glaring down at you. He looks wounded too. “It’s for a case.”

“What case? A case that I’m not allowed to know about? Because that’s not a case, sweetheart, that’s a secret-“

You almost throw up, just from that word. “It’s- I’m not keep any secrets, Dean, just please go-“

“No!” He’s almost shouting, and the sound is like a cannon into your gut. “I don’t know what the hell is up with you, but you’re suddenly putting yourself in danger, and stuck to my brother, and you’re not talking to me anymore-“

“You’re not talking to me, Dean.” You whisper, his gaze burning you right down to the cavity of your chest. “I’m always in the library-“

“Yeah, I know, with Sam.” Dean scowls, and you’re too tired to think almost anything, but that’s strange. Dean never says Sam like that. Like it’s a horrible word.

“It’s not a big deal,” you say, watching Dean carefully. “He’s helping me with something-“

“Something I can’t help you with?”

You blink, ready to lie and say no, but your mush of a brain doesn’t appear to be up to that task. “No.”

Dean’s brow furrows slightly. “So I could help you.”

“I-“ You feel a stab in your intestine, and your voice grows hoarse. “Please don’t ask me that.”

“Why-“

“Because I- Just go away, Dean-“

He shakes his head, saying your name in a stern, unwavering voice. “Could I help you-“

“N-“ You swallow a groan as your lungs contract, and this is dangerous. You’re too far gone to lie anymore, and that’s the only chance you have. If Dean keeps poking at you, you’ll tell the truth. You can’t tell the truth. “Please just leave me alone-“

“I’m not leaving you alone.” He snaps, dropping onto the side of your bed to prove his point. “You never left me alone, with the Mark-“

“That’s not-“ You can’t swallow your next sound of pain, or the whine that leaves your throat when Dean’s hand grabs your thigh. “Dean, please go-“

“Do you want me to go.”

“No.” You say it before you can think, and hate that the pain over your muscles lessens when Dean stays, and when his hand starts to rub slow circles. “But you- you have to-“

“I said I’m staying.” He grunts. “And you’re not changing my mind, sweetheart. Tell me what’s wrong with you.”

“I did.” You whisper, closing your eyes again. Looking at his handsome, annoyingly determined face isn’t helping anyone. “I’m sick.”

“Fine. What’s making you sick.”

“Curse.”

Fuck.

Dean’s silent for a long moment, then-

“What the fuck do you mean, curse.”

“Me.” You mumble. “Curse on me.”

“And how did a curse get on you-“

“Rowena.”

“That fucking bitch.” He mutters, and you feel his grip on you tighten slightly. Almost protectively. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me-“

That was probably a rhetorical question. Your sudden truth-telling streak doesn’t seem to care at all. “I was worried you’d hate me.”

“I- what?”

“I was worried-“

“I heard you,” he grunts. “I just, why the hell would you ever think I’d hate you-“

“Because I suck.” You whisper. “And I can’t- I don’t deserve you.”

Dean’s silent again. You wish he’d stop doing that. “You think you don’t deserve me?”

You nod, barely a movement at all, and Dean groans. You’re still not strong enough to look at him.

“Sweetheart, you- I’m not-“ He cuts himself off, his hand resuming his circles, you’re not sure he knows he’s doing it. “I’m going to ask you something, and you need to tell me the truth. Got it?”

You hum. Like you’d even have a choice.

“What will cure the curse.”

“I need to,” you try to fight down the words, but you’re light-headed and faint and Dean’s hand is really warm, so you fail. “I need to resolve my deepest secret.”

“Oh.” He pauses. “What’s your deepest secret?”

You’re going to bite off your tongue. And when Dean says your name again, his voice a little rougher, it drags your eyes open to stare at him. Watching you with a focus you can feel in your bones, that’s prying the truth out of you, and he’s just looking at you and you can’t do this-

“Dean, I-“ You digs your nails into your skin, something flashes in his eyes, and you can’t look away. But you can’t stop yourself either, and if you have to watch Dean’s disgust, that might kill you right here. “Please turn around.”

He frowns. “What?”

“I need you to turn around.” You whisper. “Please.”

He nods slowly, twisting away from you, and it’s like a green light to your stupid, traitorous mouth. The words fall out of you like vomit, and if this is the end, at least it might be fast.

“I love you. I’ve loved you for years, and I’m sorry, but I can’t stop, and I don’t want to stop, and I love you. Only you. Just you. Can’t remember how to love anyone else, because I love you. I love your jokes and your grumpiness and how protective you are because you make me feel safe, and I love that you’re kind of a dork and a loser but you’re also so hot, I love your voice and your face and your hands, and I and I want you in a, um-“ You squeeze your thighs together, staring at the suddenly rapid rise and fall of Dean’s back. “A way that I shouldn’t talk about-“

“How do you want me.” He grunts, his voice low and a little gruff, and you can feel the heat in your cheeks.

“On me.” You whisper. “In me. I want you on my face and in my hands and fuck, I want your inside of me. But I also want to wake up next to you and hold your hand and fall asleep in your lap, and fuck-“

You cut yourself off with a whine as something sharp hits your right in the heart, and Dean’s silent. He’s not turning around, or leaving, or doing anything but sitting and breathing for so long, for too long-

“You-“ He shakes his head slightly, and you could swear he’s leaning slightly backward. “You want me.”

“Yeah, I- yes.”

“You love me.”

“Yes.” Too late to go back now. “I love you, Dean.”

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?”

He sounds broken. He sounds sad.

You’re so confused. It’s almost enough to distract from the pain racking your whole body.

“I- I didn’t think you’d-“ Not care. Dean couldn’t not care. He cares too much. “I wasn’t sure what-“

“What I’d say?”

“What you’d do.”

“What would you-“ He’s definitely leaning back. He’s closer, too. “What would you want me to do?”

“What would I want?”

Dean nods.

“I- it doesn’t matter-“

“Yes it-“ He sighs, twisting around to face you. You can’t read the expression on his face. It’s lost and it’s afraid and it’s… hopeful. There’s this small light that’s so deep in his eyes that seems like real, true hope. “Please,” he mutters your name, and you might be melting. “Just, entertain me. What would you want me to do?”

“I’d want to tell me you love me.” You whisper, and if this curse is going to kill you, you hope it does it now, right before you lose all your dignity forever. “Like I love you.”

Dean shakes his head slightly, and your heart might be splitting in half. “But I- I tried to kill you-“

“The demon tried to kill me. That wasn’t really you-“

“Yes, it was-“

“No.” Your voice gains a little strength, and you push up on your elbows. “You saved me, Dean. You rescued me from the angels-“

“Anyone would’ve done that-“

“But they didn’t.” You snap. “You did. And I don’t love anyone, I love you.”

“That’s-“ He groans, his voice growing hoarse. “You- why?”

“What do you mean, why-“

“Why would you love me? I mean, unless this is some sick, fucked up prank-“

“It’s not a prank-“

“Well why?” He shouts your name, and he looks distressed. Like this is shredding him apart. “Why the hell would you love me-“

“Because I like loving you.” You grab his hand, his own panic starting to set into your own body, making this all the worse. “It feels right. And I- I know you don’t love me-“

You’re not sure what’s happening. Dean’s hands are cupping your face, and his mouth is on yours, and he tastes like whiskey and coffee and pecan, and you feel okay. You really feel okay. All the pain and sickness is dissolving from your body, and Dean is kissing you. Kissing you with an unforgiving, demanding desperation, his tongue down your throat and his body lowering down over yours, pinning you to the bed as he groans against your lips.

The sound jumpstarts something in you. Your arms wrap around Dean’s neck right before he can pull away or hesitate, and you throw everything he’s silently offering you back to him. Biting on his lower lip and wrapping your legs around his torso, grinding up into him as he makes a deep, satisfied noise and moves one hand to wrap around you waist, holding you steady against him as he rises up, moving you to stay in his lap.

“You’re, shit.” Dean lets out a low chuckle, pressing a small, gentler kiss to the tip of your nose as you breathe in ragged time. “You’re such a fucking idiot, sweetheart.”

You lean back to frown at him. “No I’m not-“

“Yeah, you are. But I am too.” He sighs, dropping his head to the crook of your neck and speaking against your skin. “Seems like we’re made for each other, huh.”

“Dean, I-“

“Wait, just-“ Dean kisses up the column of your throat, ending right behind your ear, and his voice a low sound that falls right down into your core. “Gimme a second.”

“Dean-“

“Please,” he mutters, and when you pull back he looks nervous. It’s strange, but adorable, and you nod. He needs a second, you’ll give him a million. Anything to keep him here a little longer, to keep the ebb of the sickness going.

“Okay.” You whisper, and—taking the biggest gamble of your life—lean forward to kiss him again. Just a light, almost innocent press of your lips to his. He tenses, his arms around you tightening, and you’d have panicked if it didn’t seem like he was clinging to you. Like he was afraid you were going to vanish.

“I- uh,” Dean says your name slowly, and it’s odd. You’ve heard him say it exactly like that a million, but this feels deeper. Like a prayer. “I lo-“ He cuts himself off, his brow drawing tightly together, and you can feel your heart in your throat. Set to either explode or move into Dean as you hold your breath. “You. I- you- it’s- fuck.” He scowls, and you offer him your gentler smile, running a hand over the soft stubble on his jaw, even as you feel your blood start to go cold again.

“Dean, you don’t have to-“

“Yeah. I do, I-“ He catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles and speaking against them as if he’s trying to tell your body more than your mind. “I love you. A lot. So stop being cursed.”

You stare at him, your voice barely a breath. “Yeah. Okay.”

“Did it work?”

It did. The curse seemed to vanish the moment Dean kissed you—like it knew that what he was trying to tell you before he even said it—but now the world is just color and light and Dean. It’s enchanting. He’s enchanting. He’s all genuine and powerful focus on you, and. worry that makes you feel warm, and love you can suddenly see everywhere on him. You don’t know how you missed it before, because it’s in his eyes and coating his lips and in every flex of his body around you. It would knock you down if he wasn’t holding you.

“Yeah.” You smile at Dean, and his own mouth tugs up slightly. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” He shrugs. “Any time. I, uh, sorry about getting pissed about you and Sam.“

“It’s fine, I-“ You paused, frowning at him. “Were you jealous?”

He scowls, his cheeks turning a little red. “Obviously.”

“Of Sam-“

“You were really close with him all the time.” Dean snaps. “And I- you seemed pissed at me, and super stressed, and usually you’d come to me for that stuff, but you were hugging Sam and talking to him instead of me-“

“Because I don’t love Sam. I love you, that’s why I told you-”

“I didn’t fucking know that.” He grumbles. “I- Sam doesn’t know everything about how I feel about you, but he knew enough, and I- I thought you were choosing him- And I- You’re not my girl but you felt like my girl and I didn’t-“

“Your girl?” Your face splits into a wide smile, and some of the tension seems to leave Dean as he nods.

“Yeah. If you want.”

“Yes.” You squeak, and Dean’s hand starts to run slowly down your thigh. “Yes, please.”

“You sure?” He raises his brows, and it’s really hard to think when he’s so close, and this is suddenly overwhelmingly real. He’s really broad and warm against you, and he’s really touching you, and he said the thing but that doesn’t mean-

“Yeah, but are, are you sure-“

“Baby, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He drawls, and you swallow as he leans in closer, his nose bumping yours. “And I’d be very happy to prove that.”

“Prove it?” You whisper, your eyes trapped onto his glimmering, darkened ones. “I, um, that, how-“

“However you’d like,” he says your name with a smirk, and it’s amazing how any all insecurity he had only a minute ago seems to have vanished. “You wanna tell me how’d you want me to prove it? Or do you need some suggestions?”

You might be drooling. “Suggestions, please.”

Dean hums, holding you carefully as he rises on his knees, bends you down onto the mattress, and starts to trace slow, taunting hands over your body.

“We could start slow,” he mutters, playing with the hem of your shorts, broad fingers brushing over your skin. “I could take my time with you, sweetheart. Do the proper thing, take you out to dinner and movie, wait until the third date to give you everything-“

“No!” You yelp. “Not slow-“

Dean’s hand slides under your shorts, his palm resting right over your already sore pussy, and he chuckles at your high gasp.

“Alright, baby, not slow.” He leans down to pull you into a long, slow kiss, smirking against your lips as you start to grind into his hand. “But we’re going on a date. I’ve had years to plan it, wouldn’t want all my hard work to go to waste.”

You nod a little stupidly, your nails digging into his arm braced near your head. “How- what do you mean years-“

“You’re not the only one who had that at first sight thing.” Dean mutters, shaking his head slightly. “I’ve lost sleep over you, baby girl. We’re going to do this right, no witches involved, but,” he drops his head to kiss right behind your ear, humming as a high moan escapes your lips. “I’ve got a million things I want to do you, and fuck me if I’m going waste time not doing them.”

“Yeah, good, do that-“ You gasp as Dean’s thumb finds your clothed clit, starting to draw firm, fast circles around it. “Shit, Dean-“

“That’s my name.” He growls in your ear, flicking against you and smirking at your high whine. “C’mon, sweetheart gotta get you ready for me-“

“I, I’m ready-“

He chuckles. “No, you’re not. Wanna make you feel good, not break you.”

“What if, fuck-“ You feel a brief, sharp moment of cold air as Dean pulls your shorts and panties down, shoving two fingers into your cunt. He’s watching you so carefully, like he’s studying your every hitched breath and blurred gaze, smirking as he begins to slowly move inside of you, scissoring and crooking and pushing in deeper every time-

“What if what, pretty girl?” He teases, his pace increasing slightly. “Use your words.”

Your back arches off the bed as Dean re-angles his hand, pressing his palm to your clit and starting to rub strong, sharp circles as his fingers reach a blissful, almost painfully good pace, but remain too shallow to hit that sensitive spot deep your cunt and send you over the edge. “What if I want you to break me?” You gasp, your arm wrapping around his neck as he groans, dropping his brow against yours. “Please, Dean-“

“You, fuck-“ He grunts your name, and you feel something prodding at your inner thigh. “Not now, baby, need to be gentle-“

“No you don’t-“

“Yeah, I do.” Dean’s movements still as he rises on his knees over you, and you’re pretty certain the authoritative thing is supposed to be stern and intimidating, but it’s mostly just making you grind on his hand and reach up for him pathetically.

“Dean-“

“Listen to me.” He snaps, grabbing your wrist and pinning it to the mattress, sighing as you moan again, squeezing around his fingers, still in your cunt. “Fuck, you nearly just died-“

“I’m okay now.” You whisper. “I feel great. I feel, fuck Dean, I feel so good-“

He hisses as you spread your legs, writhing on the bed for anything, at this point you’ll take anything Dean offers you-

“Fuck yeah, you do.” He mutters, his fingers starting to pump slowly again, scanning over your body with an almost awestruck expression. “Bet you feel like heaven, baby girl, but we need to go slow. I promise I can wreck you later, but today-“

“Slow.” You sigh, and he nods.

“Slow. But,” Dean’s free hand starts to trail under your shirt, palming at your breasts, rolling your nipples between calloused, strong fingers. “Doesn’t mean we can’t take care of you, sweetheart. I’m going to fuck this tight little pussy, still going to get you fucking cockdrunk. Okay?”

You nod, your eyes slightly glazed over, and Dean bends his fingers deep inside you, right one that spot, letting out a low gasp as you whine.

“Say okay, sweetheart.” He grunts, his hand moving from your breast, over your neck, to your mouth, pressing his thumb on your lower lip until it parts. You moan against him, your eyes fluttering slightly, and you’re already too high, too needy, to do anything but listen.

“Okay.”

“Good girl.” He coos, slowly pushing his thumb between your lips, his nostrils flaring when you start to suck on him with an abandon. “Fuck, so good, I can’t wait to ruin you, baby, you’re never gonna even think about another cock-“

You haven’t thought about another cock in years, and you haven’t even seen it yet. But Dean’s thumb is bumping the back of your throat, so all you can do is moan, give him your best pleading look, and let your head fall back as Dean’s fingers finally move inside of you, pushing and playing on the spot until your orgasm washes over you in bright waves of good. So good. Just, fuck, he’s good-

Dean’s thumb pulls out of your mouth with a pop, and he wipes a little bit of spit off on your upper lip before lowering his mouth to yours, this kiss far too soft and gentle for how you think you might die if he doesn’t fuck you now.

“Look so pretty, cumming on my hand.” Dean moves to the shell of your ear, his growling promise sending a shiver up your spine. “Bet you’ll look prettier fucking squeezing my cock.”

You barely have time to whimper when Dean yanks his fingers out of your cunt, rolls you over so you’re straddling his torso, and raises you up by your hips before pushing you right down onto his dick. You don’t even remember when he took off his pants, or where your shirt went, but those are worries for someone who isn’t being split open on Dean’s cock. Who doesn’t have him drawing small circles on their inner thigh, or isn’t being held up by his hand on their waist.

But you do. You have Dean everywhere, real and warm under your hands as you grip his shoulders, bumping deep against your cervix as he lets you adjust to the size of him, one broad finger reaching down to press—light and taunting—on your clit, and groaning as you squeeze around him.

“Shit,” Dean grunts your name, looking up at you under hooded eyes in a way you don’t think anyone’s ever looked at you before. As if you’re somewhere they’d always expected to be, and they’re still in awe that you’re there. “Gotta be careful, want this to-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you grind on him experientially, clenching again as he hits that electric spot deep inside you. He grabs you firm by your hips, stilling your every movement as he gives you a stern glower.

“You need to listen.” His voice is gravely and lower than you’ve ever heard it, and you’d do whatever he told you to, but that doesn’t mean you can’t whine and scratch lightly at his chest.

“Dean, move-“

“You gonna listen?”

“Yes, just, fuck-“ You gasp as he pulls you up with barely a grunt, slamming your right back down with a roll of your hips.

“Want you to feel good, baby girl, but you need to be careful,” Dean drags one had down to squeeze your ass, his hand still on your waist drawing light circles around your clit. “Or next time might be more than wrecking.”

Your moan is vulgar and shameless, and you’re more than ready to devote sleep to figuring out what more than wrecking will look like, but right now you just fucking need this.

“Need more, Dean,” you whisper. “Need it so bad-“

“I know, sweetheart.” He mutters, trailing his hand up your stomach to squeeze your breast, groaning when you squirm around him. “Think you’re ready to ride this cock? Think you can handle, shit-“

You’d stared to move the movement he’d said ride, rolling your body and arching your back, dragging every bit of confidence you have to grind down onto Dean’s cock, your nails sinking into his abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean’s voice is a breath under you, and when you scan over him, he lookslike he’sa little wrecked himself.His eyes on yours are hooded and low, his voice dripping with that same dominating confidence, but something more delicate in the way he’s touching you. Not as if he’s afraid to break you, but afraid you’ll shatter him.

And you did that. You wrecked Dean. And that lights a wildfire in your gut, running through your nerves until they’re sensitive and bare, and into your brain until it’s all just Dean.

You start to move. Slowly at first to test the waters, but—when Dean just groans and ruts up into you—quickly picking up pace until you’re bouncing on Dean’s cock, your thighs squeezing his torso and your clit rubbing on his abdomen, his ever grunt and hiss and bruising grip just making your need grow bigger as you slam him onto that deep spot-

“Shit, I’m- Slow down-“

Dean’s hiss is low, and you immediately obey, changing to long, slow movements as Dean hums.

“There you go baby, such a good girl.” His hand moves from your ass to your lower back, rubbing soothing patterns as he praises you. “You’re so hot baby, fucking ruined on my cock-“

You make a high, breathless sound you don’t recognize, moving your hips in a circle to try and chase more friction, and Dean chuckles.

“You alright up there-“

“Good,” you moan, your eyes fluttering shut to try and focus your all on Dean beneath you. “So good, Dean, feels so good-“

“Need a little more?”

“Yes-“

“More descriptive than that, sweet girl.” He teases, and when this is done, you’re going to kill him. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to-“

“You,” the word falls out without thought, because most of you belongs to Dean. “Just you, only need you-“

“You love me?” Dean’s voice is low, and when you open your eyes to look at him, there’s a small chink in his armor. You don’t know if you pried it open, or if you’ve just never noticed, but you can see right into him, and he still doesn’t really believe that you love him.

And that’s the only thing you’ve ever really know. You loving Dean has been the only truly certain thing in your life, because Dean’s a given and loving him feels like breathing.

So you smile at him, reaching forward to cup his face, and tell him with everything you have, hoping he can hear how the words are in time with your heart.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I’m yours.”

He blinks at you, shaking his head slightly even as his dick twitches inside you. “You don’t need to be, it’s- you know, dirty talk-“

“I know.” You shrug. “I’m still yours.”

Dean’s nostrils flare, and you know you’re not getting control back from him for the rest of the night.

You’re fine with that. Dean starts to rock you back and forth around him, letting you just fall into and around him, and your lost to any world that isn’t Dean. Isn’t his hand splayed on your lower back or his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and ass. Anything that isn’t his cock hitting part of you that you didn’t know existed and filling you up so much you’re not sure how you’re ever going to manage being empty again.

You don’t think you will have to manage. Dean’s holding you like he’s trying to brand himself on your body, like he needs you feel him for the rest of your life. And you will. You’ll feel the bliss Dean’s drawing from your body that’s better than any heaven you could have imagined, rising slowing below the surface, ready to burst at any moment.

You’ll hear him too. Hear every deep noise of his own pleasure, hear the slapping of his skin on yours, hear his low praise echo around your head and ribs for the rest of your life.

“You’re mine, baby girl.” He growls, the sound rumbling in his chest and rolling right into your pussy, making you throw your head back with a breathy whimper. “Fuck, you’re so hot riding me, feel so good around me, tight and warm-“

Dean cuts himself off with a hiss as you reach behind your body, your hand finding his balls to squeeze lightly.

“Goddamnit, sweetheart-“ He groans, jerking slightly inside of you. “Fuck, keep doing that, so fucking needy for me, fucking soaking this cock-“

You grind around him, and his pace starts to lose rhythm. Even after he swats your hand away you know he’s lost his own self-control, and fuck he looks hot without it. Starting to rut up into you in uncontrolled movements, pulling you to pieces with a lustful, ardorous gaze and brutal pace and strong hands, moving back to your clit and rolling it between his fingers-

Your mouth falls open in a silent, needy cry of pleasure as your orgasm bursts over you. It’s not sudden, but you couldn’t never anticipated the power of it—like someone had doused you in gasoline that smells like whiskey and fruit, lit a match, and turned to into a star—or how it rides on and on, never seeming to crest or crash as Dean slams home inside of you, warmth coating your pussy and running down your thighs as he moans your name.

Dean helps you float down to earth, leaving careful, deliberate touches on your skin and humming as his knees rising up to support you. You watch his gaze rakes down your body, lingering on where he can see himself spill out of your pussy, and moves to slowly drag through the mess, gathering some on two fingers before rising them up to your mouth. You open without hesitation and his throat bobs, his cock twitching inside you as you lick his release off his hand, your eyes never leaving his wide, reverent one.

“Son of a bitch.” He mutters. “How the hell did I get so lucky?”

You let out a soft laugh. “You stole my line.”

“Nah.” He shrugs, tracing a hand over your cheek. “You could have anyone you want, baby, but you’re here, with an asshole like me-“

“You’re not an asshole.”

“Yeah, I am.” He shrugs, like you can’t see how his own words pierce him through that chink. “Shit, I just accused you of sleeping with Sam-“

“And I’ve been lying to you for years.” You lean down, resting your chin on his chest, giving him your widest smile. “Neither of us are saints, Dean. And I happen to be the right kind of fucked up to let possessiveness hot.” You pause, giving him your best stern glare. “To a degree. I will slap you the next time you accuse me of fucking Sam.”

Dean laughs, his around wrapped—gentle and relaxed—around you. “Yes, ma’am.”

You hum, resting your head to the side, and you might be here for a hundred years. Time blurs and slows until it’s just Dean’s heartbeat near your ear, his thumb tracing a pattern on your arm, and his face buried in your hair. The end of the world might have already come to pass when his hand moves to your chin and he angles your gaze to his, and you wouldn’t really care. You’re still where you need to be.

“Would you,” he lets out a slow breath, all his cocky arrogance gone, his eyes on yours nervous. The hope is back, but it’s wrapped in soft fear. “I’m not good at- shit-“

He’s going to hurt himself, and you take pity on him. You lean does to press a sweet kiss to his mouth, letting your tongue trail over his lips, and rising back up with a small smile.

“Can we go on a date, Dean?”

He chuckles, nodding. “Yeah. Whatever you want, baby girl.”

Your smile strains at your cheeks, because you only want Dean.

And you’ll have to write Rowena a thank you note, because you finally have him.

End Note: Me make a story with no prior lore challenge: impossible

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

@impala67rollingthroughtown @dumb--blonde @itsdearapril @apobangpo-0613 @alwaystiredandconfused

@arcticwisteria @generalmoonpolice @foxyjwls007

467 notes · View notes

gojosatorubrainrot · 8 months ago

Text

Scars don't define you💫

Summary: Gojo starts to feel insecure about your love for him because of his scars

Feat: Gojo Satoru x reader

Content: fluff, mentions of Gojo vs Sukuna fight, reassuring, body insecurities, husband!Gojo x Wife!Reader. Ch 261 doesn't exist lol

Wc: 1121

Author's note: Hi!! I've never thought I will ever be doing this but here we are! Encouraged by my gojo friends in discord to continue this drabble🥰 Sorry in advanced for my poor grammar, English is not my first language 🫡

The Shinjuku incident meant a reborn for the the strongest sorcerer, and you, his wife as well. You almost lost the love of your life by the hands of the King of Curses. At first, you thought everything was over when you saw him laying down on the floor, his lifeless body starting to be covered by the heavy snow storm that had began to fall minutes earlier.

You felt useless, after all, you were a non sorcerer, so,as a civilian, you didn't to have another choice than staying where Shoko and the others were watching the battle being broadcasted.

But its been a long time since that jumpscare and you thanked every existent God and also Shoko for bringing your reason of living back to your arms.

Satoru and you both were laying in bed together, you are running your fingers along his scarred face; each fingertips of yours feeling every single injury of his skin.

As you continue with your doing,he closes his eyes at the softness of your sweet touch, at first, he enjoys it a lot, he always loved the way you did it, always being careful as if he was a glass meant to break, but fear set up on his mind;he thought you hated his scars, that you despise them and those marks ruined his pretty face, that you wouldn't love him anymore and, eventually, you would leave him alone as everyone did during his life, but this time, he wouldn't have a reason of living because you are his everything.

He doesn't even want to think how a life without in it would be, how alone he would feel again just like he did after Suguru's departure.

When that event occurred, when he was ordered to kill his best friend, he has never felt so useless as a sorcerer, but most of all, as a human being, so that was the reason he chose to stay alone for the rest of his days, to prevent someone from getting hurt by the mere fact of being involved with him. That was his idea until he met you at his favorite kikufuku store. He didn't believe in love at the first sight until he met you nor how does it feel to be in love until you.

you, his everything

He was afraid of losing you again, but now it was because of his appearance, he hated those scars because that meant you won't call him pretty angel or pretty face ever again. On the other hand, they were his reminder of a second opportunity, an opportunity he would take advantage of. His second chance to make things right and spend as much time as he could with you: not spending nights working or on mission trips, only with you, his home.

Now he is debating if telling you or not about his insecurity with his scarred skin, because he thinks you would laugh at this and ignore him, but call him silly for thinking that.

As he thinks about that, he sits up, preparing to get his shirt on. You can see how the mood changed, how an intimate moment filled with love and adoration became one filled with insecurities and non spoken words. He is looking for his shirt to put it on and leave the bedroom towards the balcony, so he can spare his mind off a little bit.

You wonder why he was feeling troubled and why he decided to ignore you and not talking with you as he has always done before. You are hesitant about ask him or not, you always wanted to give Satoru his space, you always respected that because after some time, he will come to you and tell you everything between thousands and thousands sorry for not telling you before.

All you can see now is his scarred back, and your intuition is screaming at you to do something so he could open himself up to you. After few seconds, an idea popped up in your mind; while satoru has his head between his hands, you approached to him slowly trying to not get noticed.

Satoru, who was lost in thoughts, suddenly felt your plump and soft lips along his scared back, giving it small pecs and smooches, replacing your lips with your small fingers tracing every single scar. He didn't understand what you were doing so he let you do so. Suddenly,he feels something he has only felt with you and you only: loved, adored, cherished, he was seen as a human, not a pretty face as he has been called few times, the strongest weapon for the jujutsu society, he was Satoru Gojo for you, your Toru.

He turned his head to where you were tracing your fingers and stared at you: you were focused and determined to make him feel alive again.

His small chuckle made you look up and meet those blue eyes you fell in love with many years ago;

"Hi sweets" he whispered without looking away" What are you doing?"

"Hi Toru" you giggled at that nickname he gave you only when you both were in an intimate moment "Nothing, just admiring your beauty" you responded never looking away from his mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Nothing about me is beautiful, princess" he said defeated. "Look at me" he pointed at his scarred skin, despising it, hating it.

"I'm looking at you, Toru. I'm always looking at you and all I see it's the prettiest, the most caring, loving man that I've ever met" you said putting his face in between your hands "I love you,Toru. If you ever think those scars will stop me from loving you, I must tell you don't me well. These scars are telling me that you are here" you give him a kiss in the tip of his pinky nose "alive, with me in our home"

After yours words, Satoru’s eyes immediately fill with tears, but before you notice, he closes his eyes to stop them and leans his head to your warm and reassuring touch, a warm feeling inside his chest arises.

He feels so grateful with you, you are his everything.You stopped caressing him at the moment he opens his eyes, blue like the ocean itself "I love you, angel" he says at the same time you started caressing the scar across his cheek.

"I love you too, Satoru and remember that you can tell me any trouble or inconvenience you are living through, okay? I'll always love you until my last breath" you said finishing the sentence with a quick kiss, which is immediately reciprocated

With this Satoru knew that he would never feel alone again.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk manga #jjk x reader #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jjk gojo #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff

1K notes · View notes

kawareo · 7 months ago

Text

Sceleritas Fel. Your loyal, and ever-adoring, butler.

I love this guy but to me he is one of the scariest part of the Dark Urge story

When I first met him, I thought he was hilarious and silly and that it was cute how much he genuinely loved Durge, and then it hit me just how fucked up the fact that I thought so was.

I find Sceleritas as a concept so interesting! He is there to provide someone for Durge to talk to, someone he can think he can trust - but can he, really? Sceleritas is, in the end, an extension of Bhaal. Everything he does he does in a way that pushes Durge towards Bhaal. The way he babies Durge is funny at first but then it scares me; Durge is not allowed to grow up and mature emotionally so that he has to always stay daddy's special boy. Durge's concerns are brushed off and he's scolded like a child. Slayer form gets called 'jimjams' and even that is babied. Scel compliments him all the time and at the same time never takes his actual words as something serious. Durge isn't even allowed to make up his own mind about anything - i'm thinking back to Sceleritas telling him that his Urges are his true nature, his own thoughts that are trying to claw their way outside, when I'm pretty sure it's canon that the Urge is Bhaal's will that is implanted in Durge's mind.

Another thing is what Scel says when you kill him as a Slayer - every death brings out a smarter, better Sceleritas. No wonder he enjoys you killing him, it literally makes him better!

He's also a pretty shitty butler, as you can tell from the flashback scene where he fucks up and accidentally slices a vein of a victim Durge was dissecting alive. Why? Because he was 'drunk on the job, again'. That kind of goes against everything Scel leads you to believe about himself and is so interesting to me.

Scel exists to make sure Durge doesn't have a need to talk to or trust or be with anyone else, his social and more mortal needs are satisfied in a way that is no risk to bhaal or his dogma. Everything around Scel screams gaslighting and something extremely icky and the worst part is that it is really easy to see how Durge would fall for what Scel appears to be at first glance.

But then again, this is just my interpretation, and I do tend to prefer to look at darker side of things especially when it comes to the Temple of Bhaal, I do want to explore this take on Sceleritas and Durge's relationship more in my fics, just how smothering and toxic it actually is. Again, just my interpretation, but Scel is also part of why Strike is the way he is when it comes to sex, the butler played a big role in normalizing sexual abuse in the temple to the point where Strike isn't even aware of it being abuse in the first place.

#bg3 theory #bg3 #the dark urge #sceleritas fel #bg3 sceleritas fel #oc strike #durge #durgetash

1K notes · View notes

plumipal · 8 months ago

Note

I just had a thought- how would Grim and the ramshackle ghosts feel about all the stuff happening to us?

Especially if the yandere(s) are coming over to our dorm too! Would they, depending on the severity of the yandere and their specific actions, range from supporting it cuz yknow reader gets to be happy with someone who treats them well and loves them to concerned because sweetie please get yourself outta there 😭

I can imagine Grim is NOT alright with it and for a multitude of reasons, they are taking away your time with HIM, and once he pays more attention to the bigger picture? Yeah messed up things be occasionally happening that could very well hurt you!! He does not like that!!!

im just imagining Grim being visibly not alright and reader will not have it either when it comes to him, they are a PACKAGE deal and that is that no matter which yandere comes their way 🗣️

we have many people more alright with Grim being reader’s number one priority, or yknow silently(?) wishing it was them, poor Grim and Reader man encountering yandere after yandere 😭

Grim would give us a look if we expressed any sort of romantic interest in any yandere I think lol

‘Pologies if it was too long or ranty, though I am curious who you think would be the most and least alright with this? I imagine Leona and Ace (legally required to bring up Ace he’s my all time fav next to Grim) would NOT like it lmao

.. first off, this is the longest ask ive ever gotten, I gotta just say oml thank you so much????? You, wrote all of this, fpr me?? 🥹🥹🥹💖💖💖 this literally made my week thank you so much bestie 🥹😭 second off, this inspired me to rant too, I hope you enjoy!- (not proofread btw)

So im mainly gonna focus on grim, no offence to ramshackle ghost fans, I just really like the silly little fire-cat/rat/weasel/creature. He was literally our first friend, our first companion (I bet Ace and grim bicker on who was your first).

And oh boy, guy is NOT HAPPY when he sees all these dumbasses vying for your attention and either trying to butter him up with tuna (which will not work on the mighty grim!) or ugnore him completely! Like you stated you and him are a package deal! Get the prefect and get their silly hungry companion!!

Now, grim surely uses his position as your closest companion as a safety net, they can't kill off the closest you have to family in this world! Guess they gotta live with him if they wanna have a life with you.

Ace hates that grim was your friend before him, feeling annoyed whenever he bullied (Juice) Deuce about being friends with you before him only for grim to butt in. Ace isn't too annoyed with grim though, and grim thinks that Ace is one of the better choises of the roster you have, they're both friends after all.

Of course most students in the cast don't liek "sharing" you with grim, especially the more territorial ones. Leona is probably the worst, I mean come on they're both feline looking creatures. With scent being a heavy thing for felines (yes even beastmen dont come at me) Leona is not happy to have his scent on you be muddied by the little rodent (the greatest mage of all, grim). Probably the worst choise since they're just gonna bicker to the end of the world..

Floyd doesn't like this either! Not fair that he has to share!! And with grim no less.. Floyd results in biting you instead of scenting, his chompers being good for nibbling on you. He also has the advantage that grim is sorta afraid of him (honestly who wouldn't be? Especially yan Floyd...).

Kalim tries to brime grim, with anything he could ever think off! Unlimited tuna for grim, and the best there is as well!! Nything grim could ever want on a silver platter, only if grim let's kalim marry you! That alone doesn't sound too bad, but that unsettling horrifying servant that follows Kalim around. He knows what jamil can do, and he sure does NOT want you with that dude!- guy is manipulative and creepy (he would definelty seperate you and grim!-)

Malleus... Malleus scares grim, guys is honestly horrifying. Threatening to curse him into an eternal slumber so he can whisk you away from him, he doesn't want that! You would also get sad id malleus did that, so luckily the possessive dragon had to share (for now...)

Whoever you choose, grim would probably disapprove, guy thinks of you as family (he will never admit that tho). He cares about you, and he is not okay with the invasion of privacy from these teenagers! >:(

I know you didn't ask fpr any drawing or such, but I couldn't help myself sorry 🤭 hope you like my ramblings back at you!

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst art #yandere twisted wonderland art #yandere ace #yandere ace trappola #yandere leona #yandere leona kingscholar #yandere floyd #yandere floyd leech #yandere kalim #yandere kalim al asim #yandere jamil #yandere jamil viper #yandere malleus #yandere malleus draconia #grim being a silly guy #i love grim sm best dude in twst fr

1K notes · View notes

snowballseal · 4 months ago

Text

How they react to you having a lot of tattoos

LaDS X Reader

Anon Request: I was curious if you would be willing to write the boys reacting to a partner with a lot of tattoos? I feel like MC is pretty covered up and as someone with full sleeves and a large back piece, it’s always interesting to see how people react to seeing them.

Note: Y’all killing me with these fun requests 🥺 I love this. I only have a few minimalist tattoos, but I want MORE. Thank you for the lovely request, anon. The scenarios were fun to think of.

Word Count: who’s to say 🤷about 1000 each

---

Rafayel

The first time Rafayel sees your tattoos is when you go on a date to the beach. You’re not even thinking about it as you change in the bathroom. When you decided to become a hunter, you knew you would have to cover up your tattoos. The policy, while being outdated in your mind, isn’t all that bothersome since you prefer to wear long sleeves anyways.

So it never occurred to you that Rafayel had never seen the full expanse of the ink on your body.

Which is why, when you step out and his eyes go impossibly wide as he looks at you, mouth dropping open, you’re first and foremost confused.

“What?”

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you feel an inkling of insecurity curl in your chest as you look down at your two-piece. It’s nothing immodest, just a blue bikini that you thought was cute and also met your standards for support. It’s a little frilly, but a part of you thought he’d love that.

“Do you not like it? I don’t uh, I don’t have anything else to wear…” Your voice comes out uncharacteristically meek.

That seems to snap Rafayel out of his daze. The artist shakes his head, the tips of his ears going positively red, as he still can’t rip his eyes from the lines decorating your skin. He reaches out, tracing the gentle petals of a flower on your waist.

“How come you’ve never shown me these, cutie?” He asks, voice touched with awe.

Oh. Heat creeps up your neck. So that’s what he was on about. You glance down at your body. You suppose it is a little jarring. It’s not like you’re covered head to toe, but you’re definitely a well covered canvas. Both of your arms have partial sleeves that curl up around your shoulders and continue along your collarbone. A large collection of flowers adorns the right side of your waist, traveling down your hip and turning into a pattern of vines down your leg. You have a few other ones, some silly, some heavy with meaning.

“Sometimes I forget I have them,” you admit a bit bashfully. Rafayel gives a low hum and your breath catches as his fingers continue to trace the lines on your waist, his touch warm and ticklish. “I’ve had some of them since before I started training.”

“I have to say, I’m a bit jealous that another artist has touched your body,” he murmurs, voice dropping to something low. His hand slips around your waist, drawing you closer so he can trace his lips over the intricate ink on your collar bone, ocean eyes glinting up at you with something possessive yet overflowing with adoration. “But even I have to admit this is beautiful work. Befitting my queen.”

Your cheeks go warm. As red at the tips of his ears. There’s something so reverent about his touch and it makes your heart flutter wildly, but you’re all too keenly aware that you’re still in public.

Not that it stops you from poking the fish.

“Would it make you feel better to know my newest one is for you?” You ask, reaching to touch his cheek with a teasing smile.

Rafayel’s face lights up. He draws back immediately, looking over your tattoos like an eager child until he spots the fresher ink on your left leg. You stifle a giggle as he drops to his knees, fingers curling around your ankle to pull your leg off the ground so he can get a better look.

“Rafayel!” You bark out a laugh, balance stolen away. It forces you to lean on him just so you don’t fall over. “Geez, I could have just sat down, you know!”

“This is for me?” Rafayel, oblivious to your complaints, grazes his fingertips tenderly along your skin.

Shaking your head, you give his hair a playful fuss, “Yes, you impatient fish. It’s not done yet, but it’s about us.”

It’s the beginnings of an ocean scene. A beach circles right above your ankle, depicting the silhouettes of two younger kids, their hands clasped in a promise. As the ink continues up your leg, it transforms into what looks like a night sky, but instead it’s water, swirling lines of blue and purple, full of schooling fish, one in particular standing out, bright red among the cool tones. A familiar symbol. And on the back of your calf swims a graceful looking figure, reaching for the light, edges blurred between fish and man and water.

A lump forms in Rafayel’s throat as he touches the red fish, a familiar warmths spreading across his chest as the same symbol glows faintly. Seeing it on you fills him with an emotion he can’t quite explain.

“You do realize what this means, right?” Those ocean eyes flicker up to you. They glint like dark pearls, iridescent and beautiful, yet carry a depth of emotion that makes your breath catch.

“I do,” you answer unwaveringly.

Rafayel’s lips pull into a small smile. He never expected someone to do something like this for him. Though, of course you would. And it’s beautiful.

“It’s a stunning piece,” he murmurs eventually, leaning forward to press a kiss to your knee, right above the ink, his hair tickling your thigh, “Though I still think the canvas is the most beautiful thing of all.”

A snort escapes you and you bite your lip, heat rushing back to your cheeks, “You’re ridiculously corny, Rafayel.”

“I know.” His smile shifts into a wolfish grin as he stands up, scooping you into a hug. You squeal as he spins you around, holding on tightly despite knowing he’d never drop you. It’s only when you’re positively red that he stops, his mirthful eyes watching your face. “It’s worth it if I get to see this face. I swear, cutie, if you do more things like this, I might become unbearable.”

“You never could,” you giggle and loop your arms around his neck, “Though, I was thinking maybe next time, you could come with me?”

Rafayel raises an eyebrow, “Oh? You want to get matching tattoos? I’ll admit, I’ve never considered it…but if it’s with you, I can’t think of anything more fitting.”

“You’ll have to design it, of course,” you hum, tone turning a little more excited, “Oh, I can’t wait! It’ll be so fun! We can do it the next time I take a break, and after swimming season, obviously.”

Leaning in, Rafayel gives you a short kiss, laughing against your lips, “Anything you want, my lady. As long as it’s with you, I’ll enjoy every minute of it.”

---

Zayne

The first time Zayne sees your tattoos is when you reunite at Akso. You’re not sure how long it’s been, having only seen him every so often at Grandma Josephine’s for dinner. All you know is that he’s been busy, and is now one of the most remarkable young doctors in Linkon.

And also your new primary care physician.

“Knock knock.”

You rasp your knuckles lightly against the door to his office, eyes lingering on the nameplate displayed prominently beside it. A strange sense of pride swells in your chest. To think, your childhood best friend would reach such heights.

“Come in,” Zayne calls, voice as aloof as ever.

You slip into his office and let the door shut behind you. The doctor sits at his desk, flicking through a file on his tablet. You hesitate on the edge of his peripherals, not sure exactly what to do or how to act. It’s been a long time since you two have been truly close, not since- But you’ve missed him.

A lot.

“My apologies, my previous surgery ran longer than expected so I am still collecting your records.” You blink, his voice drawing you back out of your thoughts. “You may take a seat if you’d like.”

“Okay.”

Maybe you’re the only one who feels weird about it. He seems completely unaffected, like you’re a normal patient, ever the professional. You awkwardly drag a stool a little closer to his desk, just far enough to not seem weird and so it doesn’t feel like you’re looking over his shoulder.

After the silence goes a tick too long, you can’t help but break it, fingers fiddling nervously with your sweater, “How have you been, Doctor Zayne?”

A faint smile ghosts across his lips. You haven’t changed one bit.

“I’ve been well, thank you for asking. Work has become quite constant, so I’m afraid I haven’t been able to accept many of Josephine’s dinner invitations.” His eyes dart over to you briefly before focusing back on his screen. “You look like you’ve been doing well since we last saw each other.”

“I have,” you chirp, anxiety easing up a bit, “I’m really close to being finished with training and finally joining the Hunters Association. You should try to make it to dinner this week though! Grandma really misses you. She talks about you all the time.” You falter, cheeks warming a little. “...We’re all really proud of you, Zayne.”

Zayne’s fingers freeze against the tablet. An indecipherable look crosses his face, but he schools his features quickly and gives you a small smile.

“Thank you…you both have always been so kind to me,” he murmurs and finally turns to face you, “I’ll try my best to make it to dinner this week.”

Your face lights up, excitement sparking in your eyes. “Okay! I’ll let her know! She’ll probably make all your favorites. They haven’t changed, right?”

Zayne shakes his head, and you can’t help but kick your feet giddily. It’ll be nice to catch up. You have so many questions, and also so many stories to tell from your training days.

“Now that those plans are made, shall we proceed with your exam?”

“Right, right.” You almost forgot that’s what you’re here for. Nerves coming back, you shuffle on top of the stool. “What do you need me to do?”

“First, if you would remove your jacket, I’ll take your blood pressure and listen to your heart,” he instructs, voice settling back into something professional and neutral.

As Zayne turns away to fetch whatever tools he needs, you make quick work of taking your jacket off. The room is a little chillier than you expect. You wrap your arms around yourself to chase away the goosebumps that erupt across your skin. Your eyes stay glued on Zayne though, watching as he pulls a stethoscope and blood pressure monitor from one of his drawers.

“Do you usually do exams in your office?” You ask offhandedly.

“Not usually. As a cardiothoracic surgeon, I don’t often conduct general exams,” he hums, cleaning off the blood pressure cuff with a sterile wipe.

“Am I special or something, then?”

“With the rarity of your protocore syndrome, I thought it would be most effective to handle your care myself, yes. Though if it makes you uncomfortable we can-”

Zayne’s words cut off as he finally looks back at you. Surprise flickers across his face.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, though you don’t know why. Is there something on your face? A stain on your tank top? You glance down, finding nothing of the sort.

“What? What is it? Do I have something on me?” Your hands flicker up to your face, but you don’t feel anything.

Zayne blinks and shakes his head as if coming out of a stupor. The lightest blush warms his ears.

“My apologies. I just wasn’t aware you had so many tattoos.”

Oh. Holding out your arms, you look over the expanse of ink on your skin. You guess it’s a lot. It has taken you a few years, but you’ve effectively covered your arms and shoulders in art. Most of it is florals, with small, meaningful symbols or items hidden in the foliage. You also have a few others, though they’re covered by your clothes.

“I guess you wouldn’t have seen them,” you hum thoughtfully, “I wear a lot of long sleeves to Grandma’s dinners. And work requires us to cover them up.”

“They’re quite intricate.” He sets his tools aside, drawing his chair closer to you. His hand reaches for your arm, but pauses, his eyes darting up to yours. “May I?”

“Go for it,” you whisper, feeling a little bashful now that his attention is focused solely on you.

His fingers graze your wrist lightly, as if he’s scared to press too hard. You watch as he silently turns your arm over, taking in every minute detail of your tattoos. He lingers a little longer on the small, anatomical heart at the center of it all, surrounded by gentle jasmines. They’re incredibly well done, even he can see that, and they all look like they were done some time ago.

Something melancholic and sentimental settles in his chest.

“I remember when you were just a little girl, crying over her popsicle…You truly are all grown up now, aren’t you?” His voice is thick with something you can’t quite pinpoint, his touch turning impossibly tender as he traces the lines up your elbow.

Your heart flutters a little too wildly for your likings. “You’re all grown up too, mister chief cardiac surgeon. That’s a lot bigger than some tattoos.”

Another smile pulls at his lips, breaking his impassive facade.

“These have all healed well, though,” Zayne says, a spark of mischief flickering in his eyes as that strange emotion recedes, “You must have taken good care of them, and that alone is an impressive feat for you. That’s how I know you’ve grown up.”

A mock gasp escapes you and you pull your hand away to press it against your chest. If only to break the contact so he doesn’t notice your racing pulse.

“Doctor Zayne, I am deeply offended at your insinuation,” you insist vehemently, “I am a responsible person, soon to be an amazing hunter! I know how to take care of myself.”

“Says the woman who walked on a sprained ankle for a week out of pure stubbornness.”

“How was I supposed to know it was sprained?”

“I told you it was.”

---

Xavier

The first time Xavier sees your tattoos is after a mission that doesn’t go quite right. You come home with a bandage wrapped around your shoulder and chest, and the added instructions to change the gauze once a day. Which, of course, you can’t do yourself.

“Xav?”

Xavier glances up from where he’s sitting in the sun, a book long forgotten in his lap. Those sleepy blue eyes land on you questioning. You shuffle awkwardly in the doorway, a roll of gauze in your hand.

“Would you help me real quick?” You mumble, a soft blush warming your cheeks, “I can’t uh, I can’t change them myself.”

“Of course,” he hums immediately, standing and stretching languidly, much like a cat. “I am at your service, my lady.”

“Thanks,” you sigh, shoulders sagging, which sends a twinge of pain down your arm.

It was a nasty cut. You had been so focused on fighting one wanderer that you hadn’t noticed another smaller one appearing behind you. It was your fault, and thankfully it didn’t hit anything serious, but it was in just the right place to make moving your arm difficult.

Xavier silently leads you back into the kitchen. Taking the bandages from your hand, he pulls out a chair and motions for you to sit. You do so carefully, not wanting to jostle your body too much. The hunter sets the gauze aside and kneels down in front of you, his fingers finding the hem of your sweater and pausing, placid blue eyes turning up to you in question.

Ever the gentleman.

A tiny smile pulling at your lips, you offer him a small nod. That’s all he needs to pull it off, his hands moving slowly, with the utmost care. Thankfully, the room isn’t too cold, the setting sun pouring through the window and warming the space. The fabric musses your hair as he slips it over your head, and you instinctively reach up to fix it.

Completely missing the way Xavier’s eyes go wide as he looks down at you.

There aren’t a lot of things that catch the hunter off guard. But the ink covering your skin certainly does. Even with the bandages, he can tell it’s expansive, curling around your shoulders, dipping down your upper arms, painting the entirety of your back. It’s reminiscent of Starry Night, hundreds if not thousands of strokes forming delicate lines that follow the natural curves of your body, flowing so beautifully that they practically beg his fingers to trace them.

And as always with you, Xavier has a startling lack of self-control.

You blink at the feeling of his fingers grazing your uninjured shoulder. His touch is so light, you could almost mistake it for a breath. Almost like he’s worried he’ll hurt you.

“Is something wrong?” You ask, voice twinged with concern as you try and twist to look at where his touch lingers against your skin.

“Stay still,” Xavier orders gently, and you freeze, brows arching in confusion. Realizing you're panicking a little, the hunter leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, offering a soft explanation, “You never told me you have so many tattoos. I simply want to appreciate them.”

“Oh.” Your nerves fizzle out, replaced with an embarrassed tinge of excitement. So that’s what this is about. “I forgot I haven’t shown you them yet. I guess I’m so used to them that I forget they’re there, especially since I have to cover them for work.”

Xavier shifts behind you, fingers following the lines over your shoulder. They bleed into a wash of color, dark blue and purple and pink splashes across your back. A small planet of light sits between your shoulder blades, numerous stars dancing around it. His touch lingers on the planet, a flicker of light spilling from his fingers as his evol reacts unprovoked.

“What made you choose this?” He asks, voice wavering imperceptibly.

“I’m not sure,” you hum, shrugging your good shoulder, “I’ve always liked space. My grandma used to take me to the planetarium a lot when I was young, and I used to have dreams about it, of floating between planets and exploring the stars. I always felt drawn to this one planet, it was so pretty and it looked like it was made of light, but I could never reach it…”

Philos.

Something twinges in Xavier’s chest. How strange. You don’t remember the planet, that’s for certain, yet some part of you was still connected to it. To your home. To him. All this time…

“It’s beautiful,” he all but whispers.

Heat tinges your cheeks. That’s not usually what people say. It’s not for everyone, you know that. It’s a lot of ink, but you dreamt for so long about getting it. Still, most people usually just make offhand comments, not exactly rude, but not exactly compliments either. Like, oh that must have hurt a lot. Or, you must have saved a lot of money, huh?

Never beautiful.

And yet Xavier traces your ink with what almost feels like admiration. It makes your heart flutter with an uncharacteristic shyness, shoulders jolting up to your neck.

That’s when you remember your injury.

Letting out a low hiss, you drop your shoulder quickly as pain sizzles down your arm. Both of you had practically forgotten about it, caught in the moment. Xavier’s brow furrows again, an apology floating past his lips as he draws his fingers away - much to your disappointment.

“It’s okay,” you breathe, offering him a weak smile, “I just pulled it a little funny. We should probably check it, though.”

“Alright, I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs as he reaches for the edge of your bandage.

“...Thanks, by the way.”

You’re not sure what exactly you’re thanking him for. Helping you or his sweet reaction to the art decorating your skin. Maybe both.

And Xavier must know. He leans down, lips ghosting over your shoulder is an adoring kiss.

“Of course, my star.”

---

Sylus

The first time Sylus sees your tattoos is, of course, on the night you attend the auction. There’s no hiding the ink covering your body when you’re wearing a dress, after all. If anything, though, you think they’ll help you fit in a little better in the N109 Zone.

And you love the reaction Sylus gives you when you step out into the foyer.

For the briefest moment, his eyes go wide. Shock, perhaps the rarest emotion you’ve never had the pleasure of seeing on him, flashes behind those carmine eyes. In an instant, it disappears though, hidden with his usual cocky expression, one of his fine brow ticking up in amusement.

“I’ll admit, sweetie,” the man hums, “You’ve surprised me.”

You flash him a cat-like grin, satisfaction burning deep in your veins, and give a little theatrical spin, “Not what you were expecting, huh?”

Hardly a single part of your body remains untouched by ink. Most of the designs are artistic. Flourishing lines twisting and curling around your muscles, strangely reminiscent of the form his evol takes. They form a network of delicate webs across your body, sometimes forming shapes, sometimes with words written along the fine linework.

It’s hauntingly beautiful. Sylus can’t help but let his eyes slowly rove over your form, taking in every detail. They’re like a map, and his fingers are itching to explore every part of you, to see just how far the ink slips below the hem of the dress. A dress which he bought for you yet can’t be bothered to even notice now, not with such a dazzling sight set before him.

“Who knew the kitten would turn into a tigress at night,” he murmurs, voice going low and teasing as he slowly circles around you, a predatory glint in his eyes.

Your boldness wavers.

Sylus always seems to have that effect on you. Like a lamb straying from the herd and being found by the wolf. Prey before a predator starved, maw open and hungry, as if he could consume you whole. And all you can do is hold your ground, even if your legs shake, like that little lamb’s.

“Careful, Sylus,” you whisper, trying to appear unshaken by not following him with your eyes, despite the unease you feel not knowing exactly where he is, “This tiger has claws.”

You feel more than hear his presence come up behind you. A shiver traces down your spine when his breath skates over your ear, warm and far too intentional. In the same way, his fingers trace reverently down your arm, following the path of your ink, until they can intertwine with yours and draw your hand up to his lips.

“And that’s how I prefer you.” His voice is low, a mere rumble against your skin as he kisses your knuckles. Another shudder. “After all, it would be a shame to declaw such a beautiful creature. Even if she likes to scratch.”

God, you hate him.

You hate that it takes everything in you to rip yourself away from his enticing warmth. You hate that your heart is racing against your ribs, like it’s trying desperately to escape. And you especially hate the absolutely smug grin that plays on his lips (and the fact that you want to kiss it so badly).

“You’re teasing me,” you breathe unsteadily, putting space between the two of you.

Something dark flashes in his eyes, “Whatever do you mean, sweetie? I was merely giving you a compliment.”

“Then you give weird compliments,” you fire back, arms wrapping around yourself. “It sounds more like you’re making fun of me.”

Sylus pauses. Those ruby red eyes narrow on you thoughtfully, his lips pressing into a thin line. A tick of silence. Then his expression smoothes into something almost soft, and he takes a few measured steps towards you. Long fingers graze your palm again. A question.

And you give in far too easily, not fighting as he intertwines your fingers once again. His other hand skirts along your exposed shoulder, following the lines of your tattoo as they fade at your neck. You’re frozen under the sudden tenderness of his touch, your pulse racing against his fingertips.

“My apologies, kitten. That wasn’t my intention,” he murmurs, eyes boring into yours with an unnerving genuineness, “I simply meant that your tattoos are...befitting of your character. You are truly…” He looks you over once more, his gaze leaving a tantalizing heat in its wake. That dangerous smile curls his lips again. “Captivating.”

You inhale shakily.

No one has said something like that to you before. Not that you can remember, at least. It would sound cheesy from someone else, but from Sylus? The intensity of his tone leaves you feeling as unsteady as your heart. Lightheaded.

All you can do is blink up at him, eyes wide and doe-ish. No smart retort or comeback. Your mouth, in fact, feels remarkably dry. It fills the man with a touch of pride, rendering you so speechless.

Not one to let you stay dumbfounded for too long, though, Sylus lets out a smooth chuckle and taps your chin, “Careful, sweetie. If you look at me like that, I might just think you’re falling for me.”

Which of course works. Because he knows you better than you know yourself.

“I am not!” You squawk, face going up in flames. “You just surprised me, that's all! I didn’t know you were capable of such niceties.”

Sylus grins, drawing away as you swat at his hand, “Then it seems that we’re even.”

You scowl at him. So not fair.

“Now, would you like to accompany me to this auction, sweetheart?” He offers his arm. You keep your pout up for only a few seconds before giving in and slipping your hand around his elbow begrudgingly. Sylus hums in amusement, leaning in to press a ghost of a kiss against your cheek. “Looking like this, you’ll have no trouble getting the results you’ve been searching for, tonight. You’ll be the perfect distraction, my dear.”

“Well then, let’s not keep them waiting, shall we?”

---

Not gonna lie, Sylus' was probably my favorite. In my head I was kind of picturing the tattoos that Anthony Padilla has (from smosh, yes, sue me), and I just think he would totally call you a tiger since he likes calling you kitten.

Hope y'all enjoyed!

I'm really feeling some angst next possibly...

747 notes · View notes