#it’s terrifying to be held down and tubed

[batgirl-1994]

Need a good superbat cry? I got you

So Bruce gets gravely injured an JL mission, It is bad, it is really really bad, basicly he can see his insides through the gaping wound in his abdomen, sensing his inevitable demise he requists Clark -who refuses to leave his side- to take him to the cave, he doesn't want to die in space, he wants to take his last breath amongst his family members, one last reprieve he gets to experience in life.

Clark takes him to the cave through the Zeta tubes. Alfred, Leslie and the whole batclan are there, all anxious eyes and rattling hearts.

Clark puts him in his medical cot in the cave and stands by his side holding his left hand, giving appropriate space to the team to work on him.

Bruce, who was dying, gives him a symapthatic look.

"Go... Clark... You... You... don't... have... to see this..." Bruce manages through breathlessness.

Bruce belives in the innocence of Clark's heart, his clean slate. Clark had the fortune to never see a loved one take their last breath, even if he was the last of his planet, he was spared the agony of witnessing its destruction.

This will destroy him.

"No... Never... I'm staying right here... I'm right here"

"Clark... Please... " Bruce barely whispers.

"Remember when I was shot with a kryptonite bullet 2 months ago, I thought I was dying, you said that you would never leave my side, I was terrified out of my mind and made you promise that you would stay till my last breath, Bruce... I'm just doing what you would do for me if the roles were reversed" Clark murmurs, caressing Bruce's palm with his hand.

For 2 hours straight, they try everything, stitshing, cautarizing the wound, tying the severed arteries, they give him blood, saline, and drugs to boost his circulation, but Bruce's heart eventually stops and they can't bring him back.

Clark never moved or budged an inch, holding Bruce's hand, through the bleeding, the cpr, and even through the shocks.

After they pronounce Bruce's death, the batfamily leaves Clark alone with Bruce and climb upstairs to process their grief.

Clark stays by his side, almost catatonic, no screaming, no tears, nothing, kneeling on the ground, a limb pale hand held firmly yet affectionately in both his hands and with his forehead against it, worshipping at a dead God's alter.

Alfred enters the cave demanding Clark to leave.

"Clark, this isn't him? It is just a shell of the real Bruce!"

"I can't, I'll stay till it is shrivled down to a coccon, till it no longer smells like him, till I can't recognise him"

"Clark. Son, please he would't want you to do this?"

"Alfred, you don't understand, I promised him to stay... I promised him... I prom..." Clark's voice finally cracks.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

𝑆𝑜𝑜𝑛, 𝐷𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔

pairing: Wanda x fem!reader

summary: Wanda edges you, and you take it all like a good girl.

content warnings: whew, there’s a lot. Cunnilingus, fingering, choking, collar and leash play, choking, edging, spreader bar, restraints, overstimulation, vibrator, strap-on, passing out

word count: 4.6k+

masterlist

A/N: This was requested by @mrsromanovaa ! You can find the original request here.

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

“On the bed, darling. You know how I like you.” 

Wanda’s voice is firm, her accent rolling over each syllable as you attempt to not shiver at the command. Without speaking, you nod once and move your shaky legs towards the massive bed in the center of the room. Approving green eyes watch your movement, even as her face remains unreadable. 

Taking a few calming breaths, you position yourself on top of the soft comforter. You’re thankful for its dark maroon color, sure that you must be dripping as you move onto your back. After all, Wanda hadn��t been subtle with her teasing glances and forward touches throughout your date night. She knew which buttons to press, what words to say, and which times to whisper directly in your ear as you shivered beneath her. 

Even thinking about the evening the two of you had shared brought a pleasant warm buzz to your chest, and you refused to acknowledge what that buzz could mean. Shaking yourself from your rapidly spiraling thoughts, you smiled gently at your girlfriend, pleased at the wink you received in return. Excitement filled you as she moved to kneel on the foot of the bed, her fingers grazing your ankles as her eyes began to glow scarlet. 

Oh yeah, your girlfriend had totally awesome powers. And, she wasn't shy about using them around you. Suck on that, Vision. 

Wanda twisted her fingers, an object slapped into the palm of her hand, and all thoughts of her ex boyfriend left your mind as you realized what she held. The two of you had talked in depth about different things to try in the bedroom, but seeing it in person was slightly terrifying. But, also incredibly arousing at the same thing. 

You refused to think about what that meant for your psyche. 

The spreader bar was placed between your spread ankles, Wanda’s knees just barely touching it as she began to run her hands over your calves, fingers light and teasing. Oh, you were definitely dripping now. 

Evidently, Wanda could either see the evidence right before her eyes, a smile creeping onto her face as you willingly spread your legs further for her, or she could smell it. That was one of her favorite phrases to say, and one that never failed to turn you on even more than you already were. 

“God, you smell divine. Is that all for me?” She’d ask, and you’d somehow find yourself giving her every part of you that you had to offer. Sometimes you wondered how the events of an evening had unfolded, your brain went a little bit too fuzzy sometimes, only remembering how you felt during the experience. Wanda would reassure you, telling you that subspace was normal and nothing to be afraid of, and of course, you believed her. 

“Darling?”

Ah, there you went again. Getting trapped in your own head. It wasn’t your fault that you got lost in a train of thought. Or, maybe it was. Actually, thinking about it, it was totally your fault because it was your own head, right? And-

“Focus, love.” Wanda’s voice cut through your inner monologue, halting your thoughts immediately. In the space of a millisecond, you felt your brain get squeezed through a tube, the bedroom becoming sharper as you seemed to re-enter your own body. Green eyes peered down at you, searching your own as Wanda’s fingers gently stroked your face. 

“Sorry, I,” You didn’t get the chance to speak, Wanda’s finger pressing gently against your lips, understanding in her eyes. 

“It’s alright darling, are you ready to continue?” Her voice was low, reminding you of the heat pooling in your gut. You felt another wave of arousal, and nodded quickly. 

“Yes.”

“Good girl.” Wanda smiled approvingly, and you were grateful for the single lamp that glowed warmly in the corner of the room. At least she wouldn’t be able to see most of the blush that spread across your cheeks. Then again, judging by her knowing gaze, she definitely knew what her words did to you. 

Moving slowly, as if not to scare you, Wanda moved her hands firmly up and down your calves. It seemed almost as if she was giving you a massage, but when she grasped one ankle firmly while bringing one end of the spreader bar towards it, you knew that you were in for a long night. 

“Too tight?” 

You shook your head, eyes wide as you experimentally flexed your ankle. The strap attached to you didn’t budge, and you could feel the tension of the metal rod as Wanda moved to attach the rest of the spreader bar to your other ankle. She gripped the middle of the metal, giving it an experimental tug. 

Your body jolted, hips moving closer towards your girlfriend as she pulled you closer by the spreader bar. Her smile was nothing short of wicked, and you shivered at the hungry look in her eyes as they roamed your helpless body. At least your hands were free. 

Wanda gave you a look, twisting her fingers once again as your wrists were wrapped in scarlet wisps and pulled tight against the headboard. You sighed, of course she was in your head, the tricky little witch. 

“Behave.” She commanded, and you resisted the temptation to roll your eyes, knowing that would only bring punishment. You really didn’t want that, not after the hours of teasing she’d put you through during dinner. 

“Please, Wanda.”

“That’s not my name.” Her eyes were hot, fixed on your body as you squirmed slightly beneath her watchful gaze. The tension rolling in your gut was becoming overwhelming, and your clit throbbed as you feebly thrusted your hips towards her. 

“Please…” You begged, taking a deep breath, calming your racing heartbeat. 

Raising a single eyebrow, Wanda tilted her head. Your heart jump started, racing once again at the movement. Her hands moved teasingly over your inner thighs, fingers mere centimeters away from your messy pussy.  She was teasing you, the promise of her fingers finally granting you the relief you so desperately needed sending you over the edge of embarrassment.  

“Mommy…” You knew it sounded pathetic, but you couldn’t really control how your voice sounded at the moment. 

Wanda was pleased, a low sounding hum reverberating through her chest as she thought about her next moves. You waited patiently, knowing that this was the moment that she would decide if she was going to tease you for the rest of the night, or give in and pleasure you until you begged her to stop. 

Both options sounded great to you, so you weren’t too worried about the outcome of her decision. 

Deciding to test the strength of the newest restraint, you tried to push your ankles together. Your legs didn’t move an inch, and you realized that you were well and truly fucked if Wanda decided to tease you. There was no escaping, no matter how hard you tried. 

Again, you really didn’t want to think about what that could possibly mean. 

“I think,” Wanda started, and your ears immediately perked up. “I think that I need a blindfold.”

After announcing that very helpful and definitely not-at-all frustrating announcement, Wanda got off the bed, smirking at you as she made her way into your shared walk-in closet. You sighed, throwing your head against the pillows as you tried to control your reaction to her words. You knew exactly which drawer she was rummaging around in, and thinking about the multitude of toys within it made you want to squeeze your thighs together. Anything to reduce the unbearable ache between your legs. 

Oh, wait. You couldn’t. Wanda had made sure of that with a high quality spreader bar. You moved your legs again, realizing the only thing you could do was bring your knees towards your chest. No matter what you tried, you couldn’t get your legs to fully close. 

Giving up, you steadfastly ignored the rush of arousal accompanied by juices flowing from your pussy at the knowledge that your legs were permanently open for your girlfriend. In all honesty, you wouldn’t have it any other way. More arousal leaked down your inner thighs, and you smirked at the thought of what Wanda would say when she found a puddle of your own arousal beneath you. 

“You know,” Wanda’s voice startled you, and your eyes greedily took in her naked form as she made her way towards you. You didn’t imagine the extra sway to her hips, and you licked your lips as she moved to kneel beside you on the bed. 

Cold hands caressed your face briefly before Wanda placed a strip of fabric securely over your eyes, tying the back of it tightly as you raised your head helpfully. She continued speaking, even as you felt her weight shifting around on the mattress. 

“I’ve been thinking,” She moved towards your ankles, settling herself between your legs. Her hands gripped the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, kneading the muscles. “I want to use my mouth tonight, my tongue feels restless.”

You groaned, the sound coming out as more of a moan as Wanda chuckled somewhere near your drenched pussy. The last time she’d used her mouth, you almost passed out from the sheer amount of pleasure she had brought you, your clit over sensitive for the rest of the evening. 

Before you could properly prepare yourself, her tongue was pressed against you. She moaned, the vibrations hitting you perfectly as you tried not to roll your hips. 

Wanda liked it when you were still, or at least attempting to be still. She’d spent weeks training you, edging you for each movement you made while she slowly traced your clit with a single finger. You knew better than to move your hips while she was pleasuring you. 

But holy fuck did it feel good. 

It was almost enough for you to forget yourself, and forget all the training that Wanda had drilled into you. But you refrained, wanting to be as good as possible for her. After all, bad girls didn’t get to cum. 

You wanted to cum. Very, very badly. 

Wanda began flicking her tongue against your clit, the deep ache within you rising like a wildfire. The flames of your orgasm licked at your skin, and you let out a long moan that was supposed to be a plea. You felt her chuckle against you, her fingers digging into your hips as she buried her face deeper against your swollen pussy. 

Certain that you would find bruises all over your hips the next morning, you experimentally shifted your weight. The steady pressure of Wanda’s tongue against your protruding clit stopped, and you choked down the complaint that threatened to escape you. 

“Why did you move, sweetheart?” Wanda’s eyes gazed imploringly at you, but you wouldn’t fall for it. Her tone was sugary sweet, but you sensed a trap. “Didn’t mommy teach you better?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!” You winced at how breathy you sounded. It was pathetic, but Wanda’s fingers relaxed slightly from their tight grip on your hips, so you continued. “I forgot myself, you just make me feel too good, mommy. You’re very talented with your tongue, please do it some more.”

You felt like it was a bit overboard, but Wanda seemed satisfied and you were willing to do almost anything to cum. Strong fingers twitched against you, and you stiffened as you realized that Wanda was still in your thoughts. 

‘Emphasis on the word almost.’

A small smirk worked its way onto Wanda’s face, even though you couldn’t see it, but you felt it against you as she began sloppily making out with your glistening pussy. Her tongue slipped roughly against your clit as your juices coated her chin. You were like a drug to her, your taste both invigorating and addicting at the same time. 

Wanda couldn’t get enough. She could stay between your thighs for hours, reading your body language with each new stroke of her tongue, the sounds of your sighs and whispered moans wrapping around her head and pulling her headfirst into the very essence of you. 

It took everything in her to pull away from you, the tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm too overwhelming to ignore. Besides, she wanted to play with you for a little while. Also, you were adorable when you panted and tried not to squirm, chasing the last few droplets of pleasure she could draw from you before pulling fully away. 

“Mommy, please…” Your voice was whiny, and it only took a millisecond before you realized your mistake. 

“Good girls don’t complain,” Wanda summoned something, a piece of fabric that you couldn’t quite make out. Her eyes bore into yours as she continued, “Mommy doesn’t want to hear that, and you know better. Haven’t I been good to you? Aren’t I making you feel good? Soon, darling.”

Before you could say anything, the fabric she was holding was stuffed into your open mouth. Letting out a soft grunt as you readjusted your jaw, you stifled a moan as the taste of Wanda’s arousal hit your tongue. 

Pulling off the beautiful form fitting dress she wore, Wanda smirked as you realized what piece of clothing she’d summoned. She felt a wave of possessiveness enter your mind as you eagerly sucked on her ruined panties, your thoughts swirling at the knowledge that you had made her this wet. 

Pulling your ankles up, Wanda slipped between the spreader bar and your body, letting the backs of your thighs rest atop her own as she kneeled before you. Her hand drifted, teasing fingers tracing your hip bone as she admired the glistening heat between your legs. 

Letting her gaze travel over your body, she admired every inch of your skin as she made her way towards your face. Wanda knew that she would never get tired of looking at you, her eyes eagerly taking in every curve and contour of your body, mapping out different paths as you flushed beneath her. 

Wanda reached up, gently taking the blindfold off and admiring how dilated your pupils were. She loved how affected you were, and it only made her want to tease you more.

Green eyes finally met yours, and you saw her smile. Her fingers brushed over your mound, grazing your clit and collecting some of the wetness pooling between your thighs. A single finger traced your slit, teasing you as she chuckled. 

“Did you want something?” 

You let out a huff of air through your nose, tilting your head as you stared at her. Taking a chance, you let your hips move slightly. It was just enough to wordlessly plead with her, begging her to soothe the ache between your legs. 

A single finger entered you in one thrust, burying itself knuckle deep in your pussy, and you nearly sobbed in relief. You let out a long moan, letting Wanda know just how pleased you were, and missed the smirk that flashed across her face. Your eyes were closed, head thrown back as she began to move at a steady pace, curling her finger every so often and grazing that spot inside you that sent bolts of pleasure coursing through you. 

It was just enough, the perfect pace to sate the hunger that had been slowly building within you. 

The thrusts increased, Wanda adding a second finger as she watched your face contort around the makeshift gag. The pleasure changed, becoming overwhelming as your orgasm attempted to rise. You knew by now that Wanda wasn’t going to let you cum just yet, and despaired at the thought of being brought to the edge again. 

“Mnnfh, plmh mmhmm.” Your attempt at words turned into a groan, and Wanda let out a low hum. Her other hand reached up, wrapping around your throat loosely as she curled her fingers inside of you. 

“Soon, darling.”

The pleasure just kept building, your clit throbbing as it begged for attention. If she would just touch it, anything would help you fall over the edge. It took everything in you to not roll your hips, any attempt at repositioning so Wanda’s hand would go where you wanted would be met with a complete absence of touch. 

Pleased at your self restraint, Wanda gave a few more deep thrusts before removing her fingers completely. Before you could whine, or even process her movement, she tore her panties from your parted lips, shoving her fingers onto your waiting tongue as she bent down. 

The taste of your own arousal hit you, mixing pleasantly with the aftertaste of Wanda’s juices. Then, you felt a tongue licking gently at your aching pussy, collecting as much of your arousal as it could. You felt her tease your clit, circling it softly, and lamented at the lack of pressure. 

Wanda worked you up again, her fingers slowly moving in and out of your mouth as your tongue swirled around them. It was an effective gag, small moans escaping you as her tongue steadily applied more pressure. Your orgasm reappeared, and you desperately wished that you could close your legs around Wanda’s head. Anything to keep her where you needed her most. 

Almost as if she was reading your mind (oh, wait), Wanda pulled away. Pleasure coursed through you, fading quickly as the stimulation ended, and you let out a whimper. 

“Color?” Wanda asked, her voice soft as her fingers twisted again. A vibrator floated into her grasp, your eyes tracking it as you uttered a muffled ‘green’. You recognized that toy, it was one of Wanda’s favorites. The settings were adjustable using a knob, so she could set it at any intensity she wanted. 

“Do you want to cum?” Wanda asked, pulling her fingers from you briefly to let you respond. You opened your mouth, the pleas about to spill out, when the vibrator was placed directly against your clit. 

Jolting, you breathed heavily, and Wanda just raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t even turned the toy on yet, but just the smallest amount of pressure against your throbbing clit was sending you headfirst into subspace. 

“Yes, please.” You didn’t care how desperate you sounded, the only thing in your fuzzy mind was the thought of finally falling over that edge. The one she’d kept you on for hours. The one that would rack your body with pleasure, the edge that only your girlfriend could help you fall over. 

The vibrator clicked on, and you felt your legs start to shake. Wanda’s hand held the toy firmly against your clit, her other gently rolling your nipple between her fingers. You recognized the setting as relatively low, but it still sent pleasure shooting through what seemed like every nerve in your body. 

“Would you like to try something, darling?” Wanda asked, and you struggled to try and respond. She continued, “We talked about it earlier this week, remember the package we ordered?”

Your eyes lit up in recognition, a feeble nod the only thing you could manage. You remembered the soft red collar and leash that you both had liked, but hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon. 

“Call it an early Christmas gift.” Wanda’s voice was soft, full of caring as she watched your reaction. 

“I want to try it,” You said, your voice as strong as you could make it. Wanda’s eyes lit up, crinkling at the edges as she smiled widely at you. Evidently, she thought that the perfect response was cranking up the vibrations against your clit. 

You shuddered beneath her, hands grasping uselessly at the magical restraints as the pleasure became overwhelming. You were mere seconds away from your orgasm, you could feel the beginning stages of it creeping up on you as your muscles went rigid. 

Wanda pulled away, and your clit protested by pulsing rapidly. She paid you no mind, letting you thrust your hips feebly as she summoned a few more items. They all moved to rest neatly on the bed, and Wanda held up the red collar. 

Her touch was almost reverent, stroking the soft leather and ensuring that it wouldn’t bite into your sensitive skin. Your eyes locked on it, watching as she brought it closer to your neck. Nodding your consent, you felt your heart race wildly as she fastened it securely. 

Two fingers curled around the leather, sticking themselves between the collar and your skin to ensure it wasn’t too tight. Tugging experimentally, Wanda’s eyes snapped to yours when you let out a moan. 

“That felt really good.” You breathed out, pupils blown as Wanda gave it another tug. This one was more forceful, and you felt your clit throb as more of your arousal leaked onto the mattress. 

The smile on Wanda’s face should have scared you, it was dark and wide. Ideas and fantasies swirled behind her green irises, but the only thing you felt was excitement. And extreme arousal, but what’s new?

Metal clinked, and you watched in anticipation as Wanda clipped the leash to the gold loop attached to the front of the collar. She wrapped the leash around her hand, once and then twice. 

“Fuck.” You almost didn’t realize that you had spoken, the word slipping out as Wanda gave the harshest tug yet. 

A scene of Wanda tugging the leash while fucking you from behind flashed behind your eyelids as you took some steadying breaths. You longed to feel the collar pressing against your throat, whenever Wanda would use her hand to choke you, it always made your orgasm much more powerful. It really heightened all of the sensations you felt, and you couldn’t wait to use the collar more often.  

“Would you like to try that, darling?” Wanda’s voice filtered through your thoughts, and you flushed as you remembered her presence in your mind. 

“Yes, please.” You sounded eager, your eyes bright as Wanda chuckled and twisted her fingers once again. 

After some maneuvering, you were on your front. Your hands were still securely attached to the headboard by unrelenting wisps of scarlet magic. Wanda urged you to your knees, the spreader bar making it impossible to close your legs. 

Something pressed against you from behind, and you immediately remembered the strap-on that Wanda had brought over. Either she had already lubed up, or you were soaked, because she slid the entire length of the toy into you in one stroke. 

A moan escaped you, muffled by the pillow you pressed your face into at the feeling of her strap fully inside you. It was everything you’d been waiting for, your walls clinging to the toy as she began snapping her hips. Fucking into you, Wanda experimentally tugged on the leash, and your head rose unwillingly from the pillow. 

“Oh,” She said, her voice raspy as she tugged again. A strangled whimper sounded out, a gush of wetness hitting her thighs as she easily slid in and out of your slick pussy. “I like this collar on you very much.”

“This was a great idea,” You agreed, all your senses heightened as she choked you from behind. 

With white knuckles, Wanda pulled on the leash as hard as she dared, not wanting to go too far during your first time using the collar. Using it as leverage, she angled her hips, thrusting deeper inside you, the toy hitting your g-spot perfectly. 

Your orgasm builds once more, pleasure spreading from your over-used pussy to the rest of your trembling body. Words left your mouth, but you couldn’t quite make out what you were saying. It was most likely broken pleas and moans, a desperate attempt at convincing Wanda to let you cum. 

You knew you wouldn’t be able to cum without her permission, or even without her helping fall over the edge. Sure, you’d tried masturbating, even though it was explicitly against her rules. However, you weren’t able to make yourself cum, not after your body had gotten used to Wanda’s touch. 

“Please, mommy. Please let me cum. I’ve… fuck. I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? I really want to cum, I can’t take it anymore. Please, no more edging.” Your voice gave out quickly, moans replacing your words as Wanda seemed to fuck you harder. 

“Fuck,” Wanda grunted, tugging the leash again. “You have been good for me, darling. And because you begged so prettily for me, I’ll let you cum.”

Her next words were muttered right in your ear. “You can cum as many times as you want.” She placed a harsh kiss against your neck, most definitely leaving a bruise that would last for days. Then, she kneeled up straight, her hips snapping steadily as the strap forced every drop of pleasure out from your aching pussy. 

“Cum.”

Almost as if your body had been waiting for that command, your orgasm washed over you. It was unrepentant, waves of pleasure racking your body as you all but collapsed. Wanda’s firm hold on your leash kept you from suffocating yourself in the pillows, the sensation of being choked only heightening your orgasm. Everything felt more vivid, Wanda’s fingernails digging into your hip, her strap slamming into your gushing pussy, your nipples dragging along the silky fabric beneath you with each thrust. 

Wanda’s hold on the leash slackened, and you sucked in deep breaths as blood rushed to your head. Your orgasm kept dragging on, the constant stimulation from the strap-on triggering a second one. 

The hum of a vibrator sounded out, and you half whimpered and half moaned. Your clit throbbed, and you wanted to scream. Wanda placed the vibrator against it, the sensitive nub having emerged from its hood a long time ago. 

White stars filled your vision, your limbs turning to jelly as a third, powerful orgasm ripped through you. The waves of pleasure quickly turned painful, Wanda’s hips not slowing for a second as she twisted the knob higher on the vibrator. 

You came again. 

And again. 

Pain and pleasure melded together. The only thing you could sense was Wanda’s presence, everything else fading as she forced your body to cum again. Her hand tugging your leash, her collar wrapped tightly around your neck. Her skin, slapping against yours as she forced the strap deeper. 

Her voice, sounding out. Her words, not registering as you came again. Her hand, twisting your face towards her as your vision started to darken. Her eyebrows, threaded together. 

Her eyes, that lovely shade of green, forever ingrained in your mind. 

And then, nothing.

—-

“Darling, I need you to wake up. Please.” 

A cool hand was stroking your cheek, shaking as it wiped away tears that you hadn’t realized you’d shed. Warm breath hit your lips as Wanda sighed in relief, your eyes fluttering open. 

Everything was blurry, but your lips still turned upwards. Smiling goofily up at Wanda, you attempted to move. Your limbs felt like lead, your muscles sore as you twisted a strand of her auburn hair between your fingers. 

“I was so worried,” Wanda began, but you shushed her. 

“Don’t,” Your voice was hoarse, and you cleared your throat. “I enjoyed every second of that, Wanda. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

Wanda’s voice wobbled, her eyes concerned as she moved to lay down next to you. You threw your leg over her hip somewhat clumsily, still feeling as though your limbs were deadweight. Tucking your face into the crook of her neck, you inhaled deeply, letting her vanilla scent wash over you. 

“I’m absolutely positive,” You reassured her, already feeling your eyes closing again. “Now let’s just cuddle for a bit, and then you can order us food while I get the shower ready in, um, about an hour.”

And with that, you promptly fell asleep. 

Wanda smiled, stroking your hair as you curled around her. Honestly, how did she get so lucky? She thought about the ring sitting hidden in her office desk drawer, and felt a wave of love overtake her as you pulled her closer in your sleep. 

She just had to wait until after the holidays. Soon, you would be her wife. Wanda couldn’t wait for that day to come. 

Soon.

—-

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine 

[only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are]

could u maybeeeee do a rough caretaker x super sensitive whumpee? Maybe hospital setting, non con drugs, force feeding?? idk but i LOVED ur out like a light

By the end this turned into kind of a Munchausen by Proxy syndrome situation at least to me, where Caretaker is convinced Whumpee is sick or maybe they're just the one making Whumpee sick..? Anyway read it how you like! I hope this is okay for you and ticked all the boxes!!!

CWs: forced drugging, needles, sedation, medical setting, forced feeding, forced intubation (NG tube) restraints

“Let me GO!"

“Just hold still.” Caretaker ground out, pinning a wriggling Whumpee to their chest. “You're making this more difficult than it has to be.”

They threw Whumpee onto the bed, easily overpowering them and slipping both wrists and ankles into soft padded cuffs that were tied to the bed.

Whumpee let out a terrified shriek as Caretaker affixed the last restraint, then picked up a syringe off a metal trolley next to the bed.

“Here, this should help.” Caretaker flicked the cap off the syringe and drove the needle into Whumpee's thigh, emptying the contents swiftly into the muscle. Whumpee let out a cry like a wounded animal as the drug began to pump into their system.

“No, no, no..” Whumpee breathed as their limbs began to weaken and go slack in the restraints. "Don't.. need it. I'm fine.. mmfine.."

“Much better.” Caretaker patted Whumpee's head. “This is all for your own good. You get that, right?” They asked, smiling softly.

Whumpee’s heavy breaths slowed, and their head slumped back against the pillows.

“That's better. Now we can get some food into you.”

Caretaker turned their back on Whumpee, rummaging amongst medical supplies as they set up a tray with various tubes and syringes.

They snapped on a pair of blue nitrile gloves, causing Whumpee to flinch against the restraints.

The drugs hadn't fully taken effect yet, and so Whumpee knew whatever was about to happen would not be pleasant.

Caretaker ignored their pleas, reaching for a long piece of tubing, which they removed from sterile packaging. They held the tubing up to Whumpee's cheek, measuring it and marking a line across it with a marker. Then, Caretaker covered the end of the tube in some kind of gel before leaning over and shoving it up into Whumpee's nostril without warning. Whumpee began to cough and splutter, trying to pull their head away, but Caretaker trapped their head in place and continued to force the tube further up. Whumpee felt the tube reach the back of their nose and begin to go down their throat. It was a horrifying, invasive feeling as they began to cough and gag at the foreign object, eyes watering with the force of the intrusion. The tube was still going further and further down until it seemed to reach deep inside their stomach. Finally, Caretaker stopped, pulling back and using a small piece of tape to tape the other end of the tube to Whumpee's cheek. Whumpee took in a deep breath racked with sobs as they tried to steady their queasy stomach.

Caretaker patted their head. “Wasn't that easier when you stopped fighting?” They asked condescendingly.

Whumpee spat in their direction. Caretaker simply sighed and cleaned up the spit from Whumpee's chin. They then picked up a bottle-like container, poured an unappetising solution into it, and then attached tubing to it, which ran to the end of the tube on Whumpee's face. They hung the bottle up on an IV stand as the concotction began to flow from the stand into the tube and into Whumpee's stomach. The initial sensation was just cold. Then, the solution travelled into Whumpee's stomach, and the sensation of being filled from within made Whumpee gag again.

“Deep breaths.” Caretaker cooed, massaging Whumpee's stomach.

Tears pooled in Whumpee's eyes as they tried to breathe through the nausea, finally managing to get through the sensation until all the solution was gone. As the next breath left their body, they felt their eyes growing heavy.

“You can sleep now, Whumpee.” Caretaker soothed, stroking their gloved hand through Whumpee's hair. “Sh, just rest.”

Whumpee wanted to say no, that there was something wrong, but the drugs were making the room spin, and they just wanted to close their eyes and …

Caretaker smiled as Whumpee's head drooped against their chest, their patient finally unconscious, finally calm. They whispered, “Just rest. I'll take care of you. I'm the only one who can make you better.”

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |3|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Talks of injuries

Word Count: 3.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

“Run away with me?” you asked, staring into Tara’s eyes as she leaned in for a kiss.

“No,” Tara giggled, playfully shoving you.

“Why not?” you sighed, flopping back onto Tara’s bed.

“Cause I don’t want to be a high school drop out?” Tara draped herself over you, looking down at you with a loving smile.

“Ugh, fine, I guess that’s reasonable,” you grumbled, pouting up at her as you ran a hand through her hair.

Tara sucked in a breath, instantly wincing in pain, her hand went to her stomach, but she quickly pulled it away when the pain worsened. She tried to push herself up but quickly lowered herself back down when every movement sent waves of pain through her entire body. She blinked, trying to get her eyes to adjust to the unfamiliar lighting. She looked around seeing blank white walls, a thin white sheet over her, and a hospital bed. She scrunched her eyebrows, trying to remember what happened, she reached up feeling an oxygen tube around her nose.

She got flashes of bleeding out on the floor, a knife through her hand. She looked down to see her left hand bandaged up. She closed her eyes, feeling her leg snap, she winced at just the memory. When she opened her eyes again, she noticed the large black boot on her right leg. Then she saw it, the white mask, black cloak, she remembered getting the call, it had been Ghostface. Her heart rate picked up again, she ignored the pain as she pushed herself further up on the pillow. She whipped her head around, her eyes darting all over the room, only stopping when they landed on your sleeping figure.

She couldn’t help but give a small smile at you. Tears pricked the edge of her eyes as the attack fully came back to her. The only comfort she had was seeing you by her side, safe and sound. Part of her felt bad but the other part of her wanted to laugh at your position. You were curled up, one leg hanging off the chair, the other draped over the armrest, and the top half of your body curled in, so your head was resting on the back of the chair.

She relaxed back into the pillow, her heartbeat slowing back down. She never took her eyes off you though. Her mind went back to the dream she woke up from. It was a memory, it was the last time you spent the night, just two days ago. You always asked Tara to run away with you, ever since she turned eighteen. The two of you had plans to leave when Tara graduated but then she got held back a year, delaying your plans a year. She knew you didn’t mind, truly, but you still always asked to run away. Tara loved it, she loved knowing you wanted to spend the rest of your life with her. Tara just didn’t want to be a dropout before she ran away with you.

Tara laid her head on her pillow, just staring at you, you always looked so peaceful sleeping, even in a very uncomfortable position. You suddenly shot up, bracing yourself in the chair so you didn’t fall off. Your eyes instantly went to Tara, your eyes filled with tears as you let out a shaky breath. Tara could only describe the look on your face as one of relief, she had no idea how long she had been out and couldn’t begin to imagine what you had been going through this whole time. If you had been attacked and Tara was the one waiting by your bedside she surely would have been going out of her mind.

“You’re okay,” you sobbed. You were instantly out of the chair and at Tara’s side. You reached up to touch her but hesitated, your hand freezing just as you were about to graze her hair.

Tara gave a small nod, realizing you were terrified of hurting her. “It’s okay,” she rasped out.

Your hand gently caressed her cheek. You leaned in, resting your forehead against hers. Your eyes were pinched shut but tears still managed to spill out of them. Tara let out a shaky breath, trying to contain her own sobs, she reached up with her good hand, resting it on the back of your neck.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered in between sobs. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Tara tightened her grip on you, quietly shushing you. “I’m okay. I’m okay.” She wanted to offer you any comfort she could give, she was making sure you felt her, that you heard her, that you knew she was there, and she was okay.

When you finally pulled away from her you quickly wiped your eyes, sniffling a little. You cleared your throat as you walked across the room, Tara’s heartbeat spiked for a second until she realized you were just going to the sink. Her eyes never left you as you filled a glass with water and instantly went back to her side, you handed her the glass of water and then dragged the chair you had been sleeping in next to her bedside. She took a few sips, the water instantly soothing her dry throat.

Tara looked down at your hand resting on her bed, she could feel your fingers barely grazing her leg through the blanket. She started to move her hand to hold your hand but stopped when she realized her hand was bandaged. She furrowed her brow, opening her mouth to ask you to move to her other side but the words died on her lips when she looked up, seeing your eyes not on her in the moment but on the door. She quickly shut her mouth, she couldn’t help but smile at your determined look, as if you were daring someone to walk through that door.

When you took your eyes off the door and looked back at her, she was still staring at you. You tilted your head, giving her the same soft look you always gave her, it was a complete 180 from the glare you had been giving the door. “What?” you asked softly.

Tara shook her head, blinking away the tears that had started to form. “I love you,” is all she said.

You smiled, for the first time since Tara woke up, you looked like you did any other day. If she didn’t know better, she would say you and her were just sitting on her couch about to watch a movie. “I love you too,” you reached up, brushing a few strands of hair out of her face. “Do you want me to text your friends?”

Tara opened her mouth ready to say yes but stopped. She couldn’t explain why she stopped. She loved her friends; she had known all of them pretty much her entire life. She couldn’t imagine any of them hurting her, couldn’t imagine that any of them would dress up like a psycho and attack her. There was a part of her that told her not to trust anyone though. Tara might not have remembered Stab too well, but she knew the story of the original Ghostface killings, Sidney’s boyfriend had been the killer, she had trusted him, and he ended up being the one to attack her and kill her friends. The truth was, anyone could be a killer.

The only person she didn’t doubt for a second was you. Maybe it was stupid and naïve but there wasn’t a doubt in her mind about you, she knew you’d never hurt her. And if anyone ever asked her about it, she’d say that you sitting there by her bedside completely guilt ridden over just not being there was proof enough. She saw you beating yourself up, blaming yourself, and it was all for something you had nothing to do with, for something couldn’t have controlled or prevented. As much as Tara had wanted you to come over that night, she was now glad you had work, she would never have forgiven herself if you had been there and you had gotten hurt trying to protect her.

“Not yet,” Tara finally decided on. “I’ll text them later. I’m not ready for all of them. I just want to sit here with you.”

“Okay,” you whispered. You tucked more strands of her hair that had gotten loose behind her ear. You didn’t even question Tara’s decision to not contact her friends yet, not that she ever thought you’d question her wanting to spend more alone time with you.

“How are you feeling?” you asked.

Tara looked down at herself, her eyes focusing on the large boot on her foot before trailing up to her hand. She lifted her hand off the bed, turning it over, it was covered in a wrap, but Tara could still see the knife sticking through it. “It hurts,” she said but it came out as more of a whimper.

“Do you want me to get the nurse? Maybe they can give you more drugs or up the dosage?” you were already moving to stand up.

“No.” Tara reached across her body with her good hand but didn’t have to strain herself before you noticed and were sitting back down. “I’m okay.” You didn’t look convinced. “Really, I think no matter what, I’m going to feel it at least a little bit.”

“Okay,” you whispered, dropping your eyes to the floor as you stared intensely at your clasped hands in your lap. “I should have been there,” you whispered. If you weren’t seated so close to Tara, she would have missed it.

“No,” she shook her head. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I should have just left work and come to you when you called.”

“You would have gotten fired.”

“But maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.” You looked up at her, your eyes filled with tears once again. “I’m always there,” your voice cracked. “I should have been there.”

“Stop it,” Tara said, trying to keep her voice determined but it was hard with the tears she felt filling her eyes again as well. “Stop, please, you’re not allowed to blame yourself. I refuse to let you blame yourself. You didn’t cause this, you had nothing to do with this.” You buried your head in your hands but nodded, nonetheless.

After a little while you had turned on the TV and flipped through channels until Tara finally agreed to a channel that was showing some reruns. Tara wanted her laptop so she could watch whatever she wanted but that would mean asking you to go get it and she didn’t want you to leave. Tara watched you out of the side of her eye as you watched the TV, you had moved the side table over and pushed your chair against the bed. You had your arm propped up on the bed, absentmindedly playing with Tara’s hair. You were at an awkward angle and as much as Tara wanted you to, you couldn’t lay in bed next to her with her injuries, so this was the closest the two of you could get for the moment.

There was a long creak as someone opened the door to the hospital room without knocking. Tara’s eyes widened, she sat up in bed, ignoring the pain that shot through her. You were on your feet in seconds, glaring at the door, ready to attack whoever was entering.

Tara relaxed when she saw sheriff Hicks walk through the door, her eyes glued to her notepad. You were still tense, slowly relaxing as Judy put down her notepad and looked up at the two of you. Her mouth hung open, a greeting at the tip of her tongue, her eyes went from Tara, to you, to the door behind her, and back to Tara.

“I’m sorry!” Judy said sincerely. “I should have knocked. I was so caught up finishing up my notes,” she looked down at her notepad, flipping through pages as she rambled. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Judy looked back up at Tara. “There is an officer right outside your room,” she pointed back to the door. “No one is getting in here unless they’re authorized.”

“Thank you,” Tara whispered. She flicked a glance at you to see you slowly lowering yourself back into the chair. “Sorry, we’re just a little jumpy after…”

“You don’t need to explain,” Judy said softly, walking up to the side of the bed. She reached down, grabbed Tara’s hand, and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad to see you awake.” Judy gave her a soft smile.

Judy was one of a kind, she was a little embarrassing at times and Tara and Amber certainly loved to pick on Wes in a loving way because of it. Judy was the most loving parent around though, the only other parent that seemed to love her kids as much as Judy loved Wes was Mindy and Chad’s mom. Whenever the kids went over to Judy’s house, even now as teenagers, she always made baked goods before she left for work or as soon as she got back.

Tara knew her sister got into a lot of trouble with Judy, Tara was glad Judy never held Sam’s actions against her though. Judy wasn’t a fan of Tara’s mother either, Tara always tried to hide her home issues, but Judy always seemed to know. There were so many times after Sam left and their mom got drunk or went away on long business trips that Judy insisted Tara spend the night and she always made sure Tara never went hungry, whether it was inviting her over for dinner or dropping by with a casserole or something she insisted she had so much fun making dinner she just had to make a second one. Judy never drew attention to what she was doing, she never pressed Tara to talk about it, the few times she did Tara had shut down completely, after that Judy settled for silently helping anyway she could.

Judy also wasn’t the biggest fan of you. She never directly came out and said anything, she knew deep down she didn’t have any right, but there were little comments here and there when Tara started dating you. Judy would always give a tight-lipped smile and her voice went even higher than usual when you were around or when Tara and yours relationship was brought up. When Tara first told Wes she had kissed you, Judy had overheard and made a comment about you being too old for her. Tara had just rolled her eyes saying you were only two years older, technically closer to three, but Tara wasn’t going to get into that with Judy. Judy had dropped it, but it was always obvious she didn’t approve of your relationship.

“I was wondering if you were up for answering some questions?” Judy asked softly.

“She just woke up,” you snapped. “Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, trying to catch the psycho that did this?”

You were glaring at Judy, but she just gave you a sympathetic look. “That’s what I’m trying to do,” she said softly. “If you aren’t up for it, I can come back,” Judy looked at Tara.

Tara wanted to tell Judy she was tired and to come back later, she had no desire to relive what happened to her. She didn’t think she’d want to relive it later in the day or the next day either so she might as well just get it over with.

“Can Y/N stay?” Tara asked, looking at you. You smiled softly, resting a hand on her arm as you lightly rubbed it.

“Of course,” Judy answered, glancing at you before pulling up a chair of her own. She was near the hospital bed, her back to the door, the perfect spot to look at Tara as they spoke.

“Can you tell me about your night?” Judy asked, flipping open her notepad to a new page. “What you did, anything and everything, just talk, anything can be important.”

Tara nodded, looking at you before she took a deep breath as best as she could. “I was making dinner and called Y/N. They were at work and their boss yelled at them to hang up,” she started.

“What did you talk about?” your eyes flicked to Judy, but you didn’t say anything, you just kept your hand on Tara’s arm, trying to bring her comfort in anyway.

“I was trying to convince her to blow off work,” Tara admitted, blushing lightly. She glanced at you to see a small smile on your own face, but it was quickly shadowed in sadness and guilt. “We talked about graduation, me going to college, us moving out of this town.” Tara shrugged, “Normal stuff.”

Judy nodded, writing a couple things in her notepad. “And after you got off the phone?”

“I was texting Amber, wanted to see if she wanted to watch some movies.” Tara furrowed her brow, shaking her head. “It wasn’t Amber,” she whispered, staring at a spot at the end of the bed. “The phone started ringing.”

“Your phone?” Judy asked but her voice sounded muffled.

Tara shook her head. “Landline,” she said mindlessly. “It was some guy.” She could swear she heard you suck in a breath, but she didn’t turn to look at you. “Said he knew my mom. Figured he was just a new boyfriend,” she shrugged with an eyeroll. “He asked me my favorite movie; I didn’t think anything of it until he specifically started talking to me about Stab.”

“What about it?”

“He asked me if I remembered the opening and then started telling me about the opening kill scene, a girl home alone who answers an unknown number and starts talking to the killer.” Tears slowly started to fill her eyes. “Just like me,” she whispered.

“We can stop if you want,” Judy’s voice came again, this time accompanied by a soft hand resting on her uninjured arm.

“I texted Amber,” Tara continued, shaking her head. “It wasn’t Amber.” She continued shaking her head, the tears slowly began to fall. “He-he-he started quizzing me on Stab.” Tara’s breathing started to become heavy, she was gasping more, the walls were closing in on her. “He-he-he-” she was gasping, her eyes wide as she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Breath,” your voice cut through. Tara tried to focus on your voice, hearing you softly whispering to her. Tara felt a puff of air enter her and she slowly started to be able to breath again. “There you go,” you whispered. Tara’s eyes found yours only to see you standing up, one hand resting on her shoulder while the other held her inhaler to her mouth.

“Thanks,” she whispered, taking the inhaler from you with her good hand.

You let out a shaky breath and slowly lowered yourself back down into your chair. Tara blinked a few times, taking another hit of her inhaler before she set it down at her side, making sure to keep her fingers around it.

“Why don’t we stop for now,” Judy said as she began to stand up from her chair.

“No,” Tara said, giving Judy a determined look. “No, I can do this.” Judy looked from Tara to you then back to Tara before slowly lowering herself back down. “I got a question wrong, and he said he was going to kill Amber. I ran to the door, intending to help her but he was there,” she continued, jumping back right where she left off.

“That’s how he got in?”

Tara shook her head. “No, I got the door closed and locked it. I made sure the system was armed when I called the police but…” Tara’s eyes went wide, the little robotic voice going back and forth saying armed and disarmed filling her mind.

“What?” you asked softly, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Tara turned to you, focusing on your red rimmed eyes, full of nothing but love and concern for her. “He disarmed the system.”

“What?” your face went white.

“We went back and forth. As soon as I armed the system, he would disarm it. He could have gotten in at any time,” she sobbed. “He just wanted to fuck with me!”

Tara was sobbing uncontrollably but you were sitting at her bedside in a second, wrapping your arms around her, making sure to be mindful of her injuries. Tara didn’t care about her injuries, she buried her head in your neck, throwing both her arms around you and pulled you as tightly as she could against herself.

“Sorry,” Tara mumbled, wiping her eyes once she pulled away from you.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Judy said, standing up from her chair again. She looked over her notepad before flipping it closed and tucking it back in her pocket. “I think we’re good. Thank you.” She gave Tara a pat on the arm before leaving, quietly shutting the door behind her.

Tara reached for her phone, opening her messages but her thumb hovered over Amber’s name. “What’s wrong?” you asked, looking at her with worry.

“Amber’s phone was cloned, I can’t know if I’m texting her when I text her,” Tara answered. She scrolled a little further down, selecting Wes’s name. She shot Wes a quick text saying she was awake. Judy was a professional, but Tara was sure Wes had heard about the attack and was just waiting to hear from her or to question his mom.

Not a second later her phone buzzed, showing Wes had already messaged back. “Wes and the others are on their way,” she said.

You nodded, before scooting your chair up further so you could rest your arm around her head. Tara leaned into you, relaxing as you gently played with her hair. She tried to focus on the TV again as she waited for her friends to arrive. Her mind was plagued by who she could trust, why she was targeted, which of her friends potentially did this to her. Whoever did this knew her alarm system, they were either very skilled with technology and could hack into her system or this was someone she trusted.

[deadsetobsessions]

This is based off of that one tiktok from @sorruna where it’s the audio from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-verse.

——

Dick Grayson was a sneaky, intelligent little shit.

He was also dumb. These things are not mutually exclusive.

To this day, one of his best kept secrets- one of the many, many that he had now- was something he’d take to his grave.

Or to Jason’s grave, at least.

Dick sat down and began telling the story to ears that would never truly hear it.

——

Batman’s voice rumbled behind him as Dick, in his Robin suit, stood blankly on top of a roof.

“I know you snuck out last night, Robin.”

Dick froze, train of thought about his dinner derailed. Holy busted, Batman! Quick! Play dumb!

“Who’s Robin?” He asked, the years of performing in front of a large crowd coming to save his ass.

Not that dumb!

Batman sent him a dry look, reprimand already poised on his lips. Dick, however, was nothing but a good performer. Nay, a dedicated performer.

Quick! Do something out of character! He shouted at himself, panicking visibly. He stepped backwards, an idea appearing in his head. In his defense, it sounded like an amazing idea at the time. He had no idea it would blow up into a Justice League issue. If he had known… Dick would have lied better, probably. There was no way he was going to let B bench him for weeks!

“Who the fuck are you?!” He yelped. Dick apologized mentally to Alfred and his parents. Batman paused, stunned.

“That’s my question. Who are you?!” Bruce asked, immediately hostile. His son doesn’t curse. Well, not in any normal way anyways. Dick quickly backpedaled by yelling at him with a heavy Vlax dialect, missing his parents terribly as he screamed stranger danger in rudimentary Romany. After this, he was going to have to convince Bruce to get him a language tutor. He refused to forget one of the only ties he had left to his parents.

“Wait, wait- you’re my son.” Bruce replied back, in perfect Romany. He looked more convinced but still skeptical.

“My dad is a circus performer! Not a flying rat!” Dick screeched back. He couldn’t help but feel touched about Bruce seeing him like a son.

“Oy! Keep it down out there, you assholes! Some of us like our sleep, damn!” A random Gothamite screamed out of their window.

“Yo, shut the fuck up! The vigilantes are helping to keep the rent low, motherfucker!” Another Gothamite shouted back.

….

Needless to say, Bruce quickly brought Dick back to the cave- with precautions to make sure he didn’t figure out where the Cave was if Dick was actually someone else.

——

“You would have loved it, Little Wing. B was running around like a headless chicken. The memory loss protocol was actually made because of me, you know.” Dick chuckled, sniffling as he talked to the carved gravestone.

It did not reply.

——

The blood tests came back. Yeppers, Dick sarcastically thought, who woulda thought I’m me?

Reinforcements were called in.

Meaning, Batgirl.

“Watch him while I contact Justice League Dark.”

“You think it’s magic?” Barbara asked.

“Yes. There was no one else near our vicinity that could affect Dick like this. He has no head wounds.”

“Eesh. Okay, go. I’ll watch him.”

Bruce disappeared in his zeta tube, looking harried. So, to everyone that’s not a Bat, he looked absolutely terrifying.

“What did you get yourself into now, Boy Wonder?” Barbara sighed. Dick was careful to keep any signs of recognition out of his face.

“Stop calling me that! Where are my parents?!” He asked back. Barbara coughed and looked uncomfortably away.

That’s right, Babs. I’m pulling out the orphan card. Feel bad. Dick hid his feral grin.

“They’re… uh, busy.” Busy being dead, Barbara thought, immediately wincing at her own thoughts. Apparently, Dick thought the excuse was lame too, and he sent her an incredulous look.

“Would you like refreshments, Master Dick?”

“What?”

Alfred held out some cookies on a platter, giving Babs a quelling look as she tried to reach for his share.

“Oh, wow, these are really good!” Dick said as he shoveled cookies into his mouth. He tried to replicate the reaction he had when he tried these for the first time, and from Alfred’s satisfied look, Dick nailed it.

——

“Robin doesn’t remember who he is.” Batman rumbled as he all but dragged Zatanna and Constantine by the scuff of their jackets towards the zeta tubes.

“Hey, wait-”

“We have no time.” Batman snarled, tossing the two magic users into the zeta. He punched in the destination.

When they got there, he glared at the two magic users until they got into the cave.

“Damn, Bats. Really living up to your name, huh?”

“Not bad,” Zatanna said as she looked around.

“Robin,” Batman- Bruce- reminded them. He did a quick glance over to check on his kids, and found them satisfactorily uninjured. Though, Barbara was looking worse for wear. Bruce quickly found out why as she stalked to him.

“You deal with him.” She muttered. “I’m going home.”

Bruce blinked and nodded. “Get home safe.”

Zatanna and Constantine followed Batman as he walked towards Robin. It was odd to see the normally laughing child frown.

“It’s you! The kidnapper! Where are my parents?!”

Bruce winced which, for him, was akin to a full body flinch and recoil. No wonder Barbara was so tired.

“Fix it.”

“Don’t get your knickers in a twist, Batsy.” Constantine grumbled.

“Well help, Batman. Though… I’m not sure if he should be doing that.”

Bruce sharply turned his head back to where Dick was. Emphasis on was. Because now, he’s halfway up the giant dinosaur the Robin had insisted they keep.

“Robin, get down from there!”

“Stranger Danger!” Dick hollered back.

Batman- Bruce Wayne- sighed.

“That’s high level magic,” Zatanna hummed. “I can’t feel anything, but I know for sure that he won’t die. Magic like that either dissipates naturally or…”

“Lasts forever,” Constantine finished.

Bruce groaned, shooting off a grappling line and swooping upwards to catch Dick as he fell from the giant dinosaur.

——

“I pretended to get my memories back later,” Dick chuckled. “And pretended to forget the whole thing. Bruce was so relieved that I stopped knocking things over and trying to do cartwheels in high places that he totally forgot I snuck out.”

Dick patted the headstone.

“But between you and me? I’m pretty sure Alfred knew. I think B pissed him off that week.”

[jetii]

It's OC Sunday, and we've gotten far enough along in Event Horizon that I feel ready to start releasing some of the concept art of my boys.

I’m working on some art of my own, but I've been sitting on this amazing art I commissioned from @astral-veil for too long, and I need to get it out. Thank you again for bringing him to life!!

Please allow me to introduce Commander Booker of the 419th Brigade 🫡 Some background below the cut:

Clone Commander Booker - CC-8411

Booker is a 2nd generation clone commander, part of a new batch of clones intended to be "more capable of independent thought." The men joke that he was left to cook in his tube a little too long.

His first real combat experience was the Second Battle of Kamino.

During the battle, he and General Soma "Goldie" Anathorn repelled waves of droids thanks to Booker’s plan to use a downed Trident-class assault ship as an explosive.

His armor is painted with the arms of the Trident to commemorate the incident.

Booker was hailed as a hero after the battle, and General Anathorn placed her recommendation for his promotion. Neither of them knew at the time that the 419th Brigade formed under his command would be helmed by the two of them together.

The name "Booker" was given to him by his brothers. As a young cadet, he had a keen interest in wrestling and martial arts, and this interest lead him to organizing several fights under the Kaminoans’ noses to figure out who was the strongest.

The secret tournament plot was ultimately foiled after he was caught with dozens of protein bars that were being used as bets underneath his mattress during inspection.

Before the Battle of Kamino, Booker was continuously held back from promotion for flagrant rule-breaking and recklessness.

Not much has changed, but General Anathorn's own brand of rule-breaking and recklessness has forced him to take his responsibilities more seriously.

Booker is charismatic and easygoing to a fault, and his cheerful demeanor is a useful foil to his general’s grumpiness when dealing with the men and the Council.

Prefers his modified DC-15A blaster carbine to a pistol and is known for his deadly accuracy. Though he’d prefer to settle his problems with his fists if he could. And does so often.

A bit obsessive over his hair/mustache, and he keeps a hand mirror in his kit at all times.

He wants tattoos, but he's lowkey terrified of needles. The 419th's chief medic Wise has to trick him into his shots.

If he had any credits, he would definitely have a gambling problem 💀

Rex is his idol, though he quickly gets over that once he sees how hard the captain fumbles over General Anathorn

Booker is fiercely protective of his men and his general, and he considers her a sister and close friend. His closest brother is the captain of the 419th's Maelstrom Company, Snap.

You can read more about Booker and the 419th Brigade in my Rex x Jedi!Reader longfic Event Horizon 💙 And if you ever wanted to request a fic with him…………

[onlyangel4]

red, white and ruin. part four. cody rhodes.

dark!cody rhodes x make up artist!reader.

synopsis: on the surface, cody is everything clean-cut. honour, legacy, gold. but you saw the mask slip once, and now you can’t unsee it. he wants you because you see him, the ambition, the darkness, the violence under the white light. and when he decides you’re going to be his, he wraps you in red, white, and ruin.

warnings: 18+. cursing. smut. p in v. one mention of breeding kink. fingering.

part one // part two // part three // part four // part five

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you felt him before you saw him.

the dressing room was quiet, stripped of the usual buzz, the only sound the low whir of the overhead fan stirring the heavy air. you were hunched over your kit, sorting lip liners by shade, mind already wandering, when the door clicked shut behind you.

you didn’t need to turn around.

you knew it was him.

the weight of his gaze settled against your spine like a hand, familiar and scorching. you held your ground, fingers tightening around a tube of lipstick you didn’t realize you were still holding.

"you ran out on me this morning.”

his voice was low. even. almost gentle.

you forced a breath through your nose, setting the lipstick down with deliberate care. "i had work."

a pause. a beat of silence heavy enough to shift the atmosphere.

"don’t lie to me."

not a demand. not anger.

a simple, devastating fact.

you turned then, slowly, lifting your chin.

cody stood a few feet away, hands loose at his sides, like he wasn’t already coiled tight enough to snap. his hair was still slightly damp, curls clinging to his forehead. his boots were scuffed from the ring. he looked, unmade. undone.

because of you.

you swallowed hard. "i’m not lying."

he just looked at you.

really looked at you.

the kind of look that peeled you open, layer by layer, until there was nothing left to hide behind.

you tried to find something clever to say, something to stitch up the widening crack between you, but he was already crossing the room. slow. certain.

you backed up without thinking, bumping against the counter behind you.

he didn’t cage you in. he didn’t touch you. he just stood close enough that the heat of him blurred the line between your body and his.

"i don’t want to scare you", he said, so softly it almost didn’t sound like him. "but i’m not gonna pretend."

your breath hitched.

"what are you pretending?" you asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"that i don’t think about you all the time."

"that i'm not planning my life around your schedule."

"that i don’t wake up already reaching for you."

each confession dropped like stones into the space between you, heavy enough to bruise.

you tried to hold yourself together, to draw the line you both kept stepping over, but then his hand came up. slow. reverent.

he brushed his fingers along your jaw, featherlight, like he was afraid you might shatter if he pushed too hard.

you let him.

you leaned into it.

because somewhere deep inside you, you knew the truth

no one had ever wanted you like this before.

no one ever would again.

his thumb dragged over the corner of your mouth, lingering.

"you don’t have to be scared of me", he murmured.

but you were.

not because you thought he’d hurt you.

because you knew, without a doubt, that he wouldn’t.

and somehow, that terrified you more.

he dropped his forehead to yours, breath washing over your lips, heartbeat hammering through the small, fragile distance left between you.

"stay", he whispered.

not an order.

a plea.

you closed your eyes.

you could feel the gravity of him pulling you under, the inevitability of it.

you could still say no.

you could still save yourself.

instead, you nodded.

and when his arms slid around you, pulling you into his chest, you didn’t resist.

you melted.

you let him gather you up like something precious, something breakable, something he would fight the whole world to protect.

you let him hold you there, breathing you in like you were oxygen, like you were necessary.

and when he pressed his mouth to your temple, lingering, silent, worshipful.

you realised there was no turning back.

you didn’t want soft because you were weak.

you wanted it because no one had ever meant it before.

and cody?

cody meant it.

every dangerous, terrifying, beautiful word.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

once cody reluctantly let go of you, you moved to sit on the the edge of the couch in the centre of his dressing room, your hands slack in your lap, feeling the aftershocks of what you’d just agreed to.

the air between you and cody was heavy, weighted, but not fully uncomfortable. just tense.

then he moved.

slowly, like you were something fragile, something half-wild that might bolt if he came too fast.

he knelt down in front of you, his knees brushing the tops of your boots, and placed his hands palm-up on either side of your legs. not sexual. not demanding.

waiting.

your breath hitched. the invitation was obvious. come closer. let me.

you hesitated, not because you didn’t want to, but because some small, stubborn piece of you still believed you could keep a distance. that agreeing to stay didn’t mean giving in.

but he didn’t push. he just knelt there, head tilted up, his mouth soft, his gaze unbearably gentle.

it was you who leaned forward first. you who let your hands fall into his.

his fingers curled around yours like closing a door.

cody exhaled, a sound of pure relief and brought your hands up to his mouth, pressing a kiss into each palm.

not rushed. not desperate.

reverent.

"you’re tired" he said, his voice low, almost coaxing. "let me take care of you."

you should have said no. you should have said something sharp, something to remind him this wasn’t normal, that he was treading too close to a line you barely understood.

instead, you nodded.

he smiled, a small, private thing and shifted closer, settling between your knees.

one by one, he unlaced your boots, easing them off your feet. his touch was so careful it made your chest ache.

then he massaged your feet, slow, methodical, finding every knot of tension and smoothing it away with his thumbs.

you couldn't remember the last time someone touched you like that, not to get something from you, not to lead you somewhere, but just to be there.

it disarmed you more effectively than any threat could have.

when he finished, he didn’t speak.

he just rested his forehead lightly against your knee, breathing you in, anchoring himself to you like you were a lifeline.

your fingers twitched in your lap, unsure of what to do.

cody looked up at you then, his eyes so open it hurt to meet them. "you don’t have to do anything," he murmured. "just stay."

stay.

the word curled around your ribs like smoke, sinking deeper than it should have.

you nodded again.

and just like that, he smiled. not triumphant, not possessive.

grateful.

as if you had just saved his life.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

the next friday, smackdown blurred past you in a haze of travel and nerves.

you did your job. you smiled when you had to. Yyu kept your head down.

cody didn’t bother you backstage.

he didn’t even look your way when you passed him in the corridors, belt slung casually over his shoulder, talking business with a road agent like you didn’t exist.

you should have been relieved.

instead, you carried a tight, anxious weight in your chest all night, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

it didn’t fall until hours later, when you were alone in your hotel room, hair damp from the shower, flipping absently through tv channels you weren't really watching.

a knock came at the door.

your stomach dropped.

you didn't have to ask who it was. you knew.

still, you moved toward the door like you had a choice, like you could still pretend to yourself you were making decisions.

when you opened it, cody stood there, dressed down in dark jeans and a soft grey hoodie, casual enough to pass for normal.

except his arms were full.

gifts, you realized, your throat tightening. boxes, bags, a single white envelope tucked between his fingers.

he smiled, small and hesitant, like he was nervous.

"hey", he said. "can i come in?"

you didn't answer right away.

your silence stretched between you like a pulled thread, thin and dangerous.

cody waited, patient.

in the end, you stepped back.

he came inside without hesitation, brushing past you, leaving the scent of clean laundry and faint cologne in the air.

he placed the gifts carefully on the bed, as if arranging some kind of shrine, before turning back to face you.

"i know it’s a little much", he said lightly, "but i saw some things this week, and well. you were on my mind."

you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in your loose pyjama shorts and old band t-shirt.

"you didn’t have to", you said, voice small.

"i wanted to", he corrected, smiling like you’d said something funny.

like there had never been a world where he wouldn't have.

he picked up the first box, small, heavy and held it out to you.

inside was a bracelet, thin and gold, your initials and his engraved so finely you almost missed it.

you stared at it.

you didn't reach for it.

cody’s smile didn’t falter.

"i thought it would be nice", he said softly. "something to remind you you’re not alone out here."

he set it on the dresser when you didn’t move.

next came a designer coat, thick, soft, absurdly expensive.

he unfolded it carefully, showing it to you like a magician revealing a secret.

"i saw you eyeing it last week when we were at the mall", he said. "i remembered."

you couldn’t even remember him being near you at the mall.

but apparently, he had been watching.

the last gift was the most unsettling.

a new camera, the exact model you’d mentioned once, months ago, in passing, during some offhand conversation about hobbies you barely had time for.

you hadn't even thought he'd been listening.

but he had.

he'd listened.

and he had remembered.

cody set the camera down with the same care he might have used handling something fragile, something alive.

then he straightened up, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans, studying you.

"i’m not trying to scare you", he said. "i just i want you to have nice things. you deserve that."

you swallowed hard.

you wanted to tell him it was too much.

you wanted to tell him to take it all back.

but some part of you, the part that remembered his hands cradling yours, the part that remembered the careful way he knelt, didn't want to hurt him.

didn’t want to provoke him.

so you nodded, mute, and managed a shaky, "thank you."

cody's face lit up like you'd handed him the world.

he closed the space between you in three steps, pulling you into a gentle, loose hug.

you didn’t resist.

"i’ll always take care of you," he murmured into your hair. "always."

you stood frozen in his arms, heart hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it.

and somewhere deep inside, you realised

you were already his.

he hadn’t needed to ask.

his arms stayed around you longer than necessary, tightening just slightly.

not enough to hurt.

enough to remind you he was bigger, stronger, that you were tucked neatly against him with nowhere else to go.

"you’re so sweet", he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"so good for me."

you shivered, not sure if it was fear or something else.

your hands hovered uselessly at his sides, unsure whether to push him away or hold on.

cody pulled back just enough to look at you.

his eyes flicked over your face, searching, serious and then, so softly you barely felt it, he kissed you.

it was almost chaste at first.

just a press of his mouth to yours, reverent, careful.

You froze, startled by the tenderness of it.

he deepened the kiss slow, sure, coaxing you open with soft insistent brushes of his lips, the warm tip of his tongue teasing at the seam of your mouth until you let him in.

you gasped against him, and he swallowed the sound greedily.

the kiss turned hotter, messier.

cody's hands slid down your back, finding the curve of your hips and pulling you against him, grinding slow enough that you couldn’t pretend not to feel how hard he was already.

"god, you’re perfect", he rasped against your mouth.

"i think about you all the fucking time."

one of his hands slipped under your shirt, rough palm dragging up your stomach.

you made a small, helpless noise in your throat, and that seemed to undo him.

he kissed you harder, devouring now, teeth scraping your bottom lip just shy of a bite.

"you don't know what you do to me", he muttered, voice shaking with restraint. "you have no idea."

his fingers found your breast, kneading softly at first, then rougher when you arched into his touch despite yourself.

you found yourself clinging to him, needy, hungry for the attention he poured into you like it was infinite.

he broke the kiss only long enough to yank your shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere behind him.

his eyes drank you in, the thin cotton of your pyjama shorts, the way your nipples peaked in the cool air.

"so fucking beautiful", he said hoarsely, like it physically hurt him.

before you could say anything, he kissed you again, hands roaming freely now, over your sides, your back, your ass, pulling soft little gasps and whimpers from you that only seemed to feed whatever dark thing was uncoiling in him.

he nudged you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed.

you toppled onto it, and cody followed, covering your body with his, caging you in.

for a long moment, he just looked down at you, his breath heavy, his pupils blown wide with lust and something more dangerous, more desperate.

"you’re mine now", he whispered.

"so fucking mine."

you barely had time to catch your breath before cody was pulling your shorts down, rough and impatient, letting them pool at your ankles.

"you’re not leaving this room", he said under his breath, voice wrecked and low.

"not until you understand you’re mine."

you opened your mouth to argue, maybe, but the words turned into a sharp gasp when he slipped two fingers inside your panties, finding how wet you already were.

"fuck", he groaned.

"look at you. so ready for me. knew you would be."

he shoved the thin fabric aside and slid a thick finger inside you, just one at first, working you open slow, deep, relentless.

your hips bucked against his hand, helpless.

"that’s it", he coaxed. "take it. take what i give you."

you whimpered, grabbing at his hoodie, desperate for something to hold onto.

"need you", you gasped.

he grinned, dark, triumphant.

"i know, sweetheart. i know. gonna give it to you."

he yanked his hoodie off with one hand, muscles flexing in the low, warm light, and then he stripped the rest of his clothes off, no ceremony, no teasing. just pure need.

your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

big, broad, flushed and already so hard it looked painful.

cody crawled back over you, grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head with one hand.

"you stay right there", he murmured, voice like velvet dragged over gravel.

"let me take care of you."

with his free hand, he peeled your panties down your thighs slowly, exposing you inch by inch like he was unwrapping something precious.

when he finally looked down at you, fully naked and spread out under him, something almost snarled behind his eyes.

he lined himself up against you, dragging the thick head of his cock through your slick folds, smearing himself in you but not pushing in yet.

"you’re gonna take all of me", he whispered, forehead pressing to yours.

"you’re gonna let me ruin you."

you moaned, high and desperate, trying to rock your hips up.

he didn’t let you.

he held you down, the weight of his body and his strength overwhelming.

"say it", he rasped.

"tell me you’re mine."

you trembled, the need coiling tighter and tighter inside you.

"i’m yours", you whispered.

he still didn’t move.

"louder."

"i’m yours", you said again, voice cracking this time.

only then did he push inside, slow, brutal inches that stretched and filled you until you could barely breathe.

your fingers twisted uselessly in the sheets as he bottomed out with a ragged groan.

"fuck, baby", he panted, shaking with the effort not to lose control.

"you feel like heaven."

he gave you a moment to adjust, just long enough for your body to stop fighting the overwhelming fullness and then he pulled out almost all the way and thrust back in, hard enough to make the bed creak.

you cried out, and he swallowed the sound with a brutal kiss.

"you take it so good", he praised against your mouth.

"my good girl."

the rhythm he set was merciless, deep, punishing strokes that left you gasping, clawing at his back.

every thrust was a claim.

every filthy word was a brand.

"who’s fucking you like this?"

"you’re gonna come on my cock, aren’t you?"

"no one else gets to see you like this. no one."

You could barely answer, too far gone, pleasure building to a sharp, unbearable peak.

"that’s it, baby", he growled when he felt you start to tighten around him.

"come for me. come all over my cock."

you shattered with a cry, clenching around him so hard it dragged a broken moan from his throat.

he fucked you through it, chasing his own release now, messy and desperate.

"fuck", he groaned, hips stuttering. "gonna fill you up. gonna fucking breed you."

the words should have terrified you.

instead, they sent another shuddering wave of pleasure crashing through you.

cody buried himself as deep as he could and came with a low, guttural sound, spilling inside of you.

for a long moment, neither of you moved.

you just clung to each other, bodies slick with sweat and something darker, something binding.

he finally lifted his head to look at you, hair messy, face flushed, eyes wild and still hungry.

he kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your mouth, softer now but no less possessive.

"you’re mine", he whispered again.

"and i’m never letting you go."

you laid there, boneless and wrecked, your body trembling in the aftershocks.

cody didn't move.

he stayed buried inside you, caging you against the mattress, breathing hard against the side of your neck like he was afraid if he pulled out, you'd disappear.

slowly, you felt his hands move, not to leave, but to gather you closer.

his palm slid up your spine, possessive and heavy, pressing you tighter to his chest.

"mine", he whispered again, hoarse and almost reverent.

you shivered.

he shifted his hips just enough to make you gasp, still too sensitive, but he soothed you instantly with a kiss to your temple.

"i mean it", he said, voice low and dangerous now.

"you don’t fucking go anywhere."

you nodded, too wrung out to argue.

he pulled out finally, and you whimpered at the loss.

cody caught it, he caught everything and gave a dark little smile like he liked it.

like he liked knowing you felt empty without him.

he disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, then returned with a warm, damp cloth and cleaned you up, gentle, careful, but the whole time his eyes never left yours.

as if daring you to try and run.

you didn't.

you let him touch you, care for you, mark you without a word.

and when he was done, he crawled back into bed and dragged you into his arms again, tucking your head under his chin like you belonged there.

you stayed like that, hearts pounding against each other, until your eyelids started to slip shut.

cody brushed your hair back and whispered against your hairline.

"you’re gonna be good for me, baby. you’re gonna stay close. let me take care of you."

You nodded sleepily.

somewhere deep inside, a small voice whispered that this was too fast, too much.

that you should be scared.

maybe you were.

but you didn’t move.

you belonged to him now.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

you woke up to the sound of your phone buzzing violently against the nightstand.

you groaned and tried to roll over, but cody’s arm was an iron bar across your waist, holding you down.

"where you think you're going?" he mumbled, voice thick with sleep and something darker.

"my phone," you croaked.

he didn’t let go.

instead, he reached out with his free hand, grabbed the phone, and looked at it himself.

you saw his eyes narrow at the screen.

a missed call from lena.

two texts from friends.

nothing crazy, but his grip on you tightened anyway.

"you don't need to talk to them", he said casually, tossing the phone back onto the table without giving it back.

your heart thudded uncomfortably.

"they’re just worried about me", you said carefully.

"worried?" he repeated, a slow smirk pulling at his mouth.

"you're safer with me than anywhere else."

the way he said it made something coil tight in your belly part fear, part something darker you didn’t want to name.

before you could answer, cody rolled you underneath him again, pinning you to the bed effortlessly.

"you’re not going anywhere, sweetheart", he said softly, but there was steel under it.

"you belong to me now. they don’t get to pull you away. no one does."

you stared up at him, your breath coming fast.

he leaned down, kissed you slowly, deeply a claiming more than a kiss until you were gasping against his mouth.

"i’ll give you everything". he whispered.

"i'll give you the world. you just have to be good for me."

you swallowed hard, nodding without thinking.

he smiled.

"good girl."

he kissed you again, longer this time, while his hands started to roam lower.

You knew you should be scared.

you knew you should say something.

but when cody touched you, when he spoke to you like that, the rest of the world melted away.

there was only him.

only his hands, his mouth, his promises.

soft-dangerous.

like sinking into quicksand and not even wanting to fight it.

[daengtokki]

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

WC: 12.1k

RATING: mature/mdni—contains: fluff, hospital/nicu settings, choking (mentioned), meds (mentioned), manipulation, hallucinations, things staring ominously from a distance switching povs

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: 700 followers is crazyyyy, thank you so much for hanging out with me! My giveaway will be up within the next few days as a proper thank you to all of my readers, rebloggers, and those who leave me lovely comments and messages!

[ ML— DEITY MASTERLIST AND TAGLIST]

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Seungmin is terrified at the idea of picking them up and holding them, and his soft touches are still making him nervous regardless of them becoming more receptive to it. They know he’s here, and they know you’re here, and you think being held, together, is exactly what they want and need, but he looks at them and sees the same paper butterflies he just folded.

“When the nurse comes back, maybe she can show us how to pick them up without upsetting them.”

He beams and nods, “I do want to hold them. You should be holding them…are you able to feed them?”

The call button plays a cute melody when you push it. “Oh, no…I wish I could, but—“ you look down at yourself and cup your breasts in your hands. They have grown, and they are sore, but you haven’t noticed anything significant happening. You might need some help.

“That’s okay. That’s why we have special formula for them until you can. And if you can’t…oh, please don’t cry.” You watch him move through bleary eyes, and he carefully lifts himself onto the bed. “You’ve worked so hard today, and you’re tired.”

“What if it never comes, and I can’t feed them?”

Before he can continue his attempts at comforting you, the nurse returns. “Is everything alright?”

“She’s upset that she can’t feed them”

“Don’t worry yourself too much. They’ll be tube fed for a while before we try a bottle, or breastfeeding. But we have nurses to help with that, and I’ll have one visit sometime today to put your mind at ease.”

The top being taken off the incubator makes Seungmin nervous all over again; seeing them exposed, breathing and feeling the same air as him. But he needs to hold them, so he watches the nurse pick Haesung up with soft, open palms. She bends and brings him closer, rubs his back with two fingers, and hands him to you.

“Just like that—good. Skin touching skin, just what he needs.”

She does the same with Haneul, but this time, it’s Seungmin’s turn. He places one hand carefully on his back; the other cups his tiny diapered butt and holds him close. He’s perfectly still, but you can see the rise and fall of his chest, and Haneul moving along with it. His eyes open, just barely, and close again—when you look down, Haesung is doing the same, and from here you see the dark of his eyes each time they flutter open.

“They’re much cuter than they were on the ultrasound.” Seungmin laughs and gives moving a try. He sits back in his chair, and his fingers glide across the nape of Haneul’s neck. “His eyes are lighter than I expected.”

“Yeah, Haesung’s look kind of hazel, but they’ll probably get darker over the next few months.”

The sound of Seungmin’s phone startles you. It’s Heecheol, you assume, but he’s not paying it any mind. Every bit of his attention is on Haneul, and you don’t expect that to change until he’s safe in the incubator again. It’s another few minutes before the nurse returns, and when she does, Seungmin reluctantly gives him up so he can join his brother on your chest.

“Was that him?”

“Who?”

“Your phone”

He leans forward and taps his screen, “yes, it’s him. Uhm, he said he’s going to head back to the apartment, but he would love to see a photo of the babies.”

You drape your arm over their backs, and they gradually shift closer. It’s fascinating to watch them gravitate toward each other like two little magnets. “Yeah, we should probably take some photos while we have them here with us.”

Seungmin starts getting them from every angle he can, but it doesn’t take long before he’s distracted enough to stop and talk to them again. He moves to your other side and talks to Haesung, who seems to have fallen into a good sleep. “Okay, one more.”

Several hours later, Seungmin makes it home, and it’s only because you finally convinced him he needed to shower and eat. And you need to make me breakfast for tomorrow morning…please. He will, and maybe lunch, too. He’s almost completely forgotten about his antics before the labor started, and how much of a blur disposing and cleaning up became. It isn’t until he walks past the vacant apartment that he remembers leaving the body in there; well-wrapped, but still…it’s just sitting there, a few feet from the door. No smell, thank god, he thinks. At least not to him. Heecheol is still on the other side of this apartments wall, unless he left unannounced, and he might notice something Seungmin doesn’t.

He’s sitting in the living room—television on and playing one of the crime dramas you like so much. There’s one crib together next to him, and the other is halfway there. Seungmin wonders what else he did while he was here all alone.

“Hey dad, welcome back”

The smell of grilled beef, and something a little spicy hits his nose. “Cheoli, you didn’t have to do all this by yourself.” But his stomach grumbles at the thought of dinner, and he knows after he eats, he’s going to crash again.

“It wasn’t much. Besides, I helped myself to a few beers and the snack stash in the cupboard.”

“And made dinner”

“Your boys look good for twenty-five weeks. I think they’ll be okay, and you’ll have them home in no time.”

Seungmin watches him curiously as he heads for the finished crib. “You think?”

“Five…six weeks, maybe. But it could be as long as her original due date.”

“June 1st…I wasn’t even thinking about what day it was. Their birthday is June 1st.”

“Gemini,” Heecheol laughs. “You have Gemini snakes.” He’s uneasy as he sits here looking up at Seungmin, but not enough to leave, and not enough to keep himself from being happy for his friend. “Did you take any other photos?”

His phone is out before Heecheol even finishes the question, and suddenly, Seungmin is one of those annoying parents who can’t wait to show off their kids. “I did.” He pulls the last one up, and hands his phone over as he makes himself comfortable on the floor.

“They already look like you. Which one is this?”

“That’s Haesung…the youngest”

“Ocean, or sun?”

“Sun”

Heecheol nods. “And the oldest?”

“Haneul”

“Just like you. And I’m sensing a pattern with this family. Sky, moon, sun, sky again.”

He isn’t sure how that happened, but it worked out perfectly, and everything about it feels right. “What was your name when you lived in the states?”

“Hale”

“Hail? Like ice, like a hailstorm?”

“Yeah, just spelled differently. I wanted to keep the H sound, but I didn’t like most of the names suggested to me.”

“I like it. You kinda fit.”

He fits? Heecheol isn’t entirely sure how he fits, but if Seungmin says he does, then he must. The more he thinks about it, the less strange it seems. He is still here, after all. Why? What the hell has gotten into him?

***

One more gentle push, and the crib is just where it needs to be. The bed is still in the way, of course, but it’ll have to be in the way until he finally leaves. When the hell is he going to leave? If I leave now, I might never come back, he thinks. Any little excuse will easily keep him away, as it should, but first Heecheol has to disconnect himself from something he’s needed for so long. But it’s not a need for friendship keeping him here. No. It’s something else.

“They look great, thank you.” Seungmin peeks in and smiles in a way reserved only for you and him. It’s still hesitant, but enough to half-close his big brown eyes, and enough to make Heecheol’s stomach do a somersault.

“No big deal. I like putting things together, so if there’s anything else…”

“Let’s eat first.”

The question gets closer and closer to the tip of his tongue as he watches Seungmin eat, and he’s eating well. He’s enjoying himself, and it’s the calmest he’s seen him since he was a few beers in at the baseball game Friday night. But it’s been nagging at him since you mentioned it. “I don’t wanna pry too much, even though seeing your meds might be as personal as things get…”

“You can pry.” Seungmin means it, even if his heart does race a little at the thought of a personal question, especially after what happened last night.

“Tokki mentioned something to me before we went to the hospital, and I was curious about it.”

Seungmin just nods—relieved it’s not about last night.

“Something about you wandering into the woods back home…if you’d ever done that when we were kids. And something about an incident with your stepfather.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry, maybe it’s too much.” He waves it away and tries to think of a new subject, but nothing comes to him. The mood of the room has already shifted, and everything is now the pine forest. It’s all he can see in the back of his eyes—the silhouette of the trees against a cloudy night sky; the silence; the heavyness and the feeling of something clinging to your back as you weaved through the trees. “We don’t have to…”

“She told you I went into the woods that night?”

It seems like he might get more information than he intended. “Not…no, not exactly. She asked if you’d done it when you were a kid. And she asked if I’d ever seen anything strange in there.” He lied right to your face and told you no. “Why did she ask, and why do I suddenly remember what we saw? I pushed it so far down, and now I can’t get it out of my head.”

“We didn’t see anything, Cheoli. Just a shadow. Just heard some sounds.”

“And smells. The feeling of something crawling under my skin.”

Seungmin closes his eyes and sees the scratches his nine year old self clawed up his arms. The itch that his nails couldn’t fix; the garden shears couldn’t fix it, either, but he never knows for sure until he tries. Only one thing stops it. “I’m sorry that you remember.”

“So you went back in there, alone?”

“I don’t have an answer for you, just like I don’t have one for her. But yes. I went in, and she had to come find me, and I don’t remember what I did when I was in there.”

Heecheol nods firmly, hoping it signals a change in the conversation. Bringing it up did not make him feel any better.

“My stepdad drove me a mile in that winter. He dropped me off and left me there, and I cried and screamed for hours until she found me.”

The cruelness of his stepfather had no limits. Heecheol knew that before he learned about this—he didn’t think it could get worse than being pushed down the stairs, or locked in the shed all night. “I’m sorry, Mo. I wish I would have been there for you.” Killing his mother still takes the prize, though.

“I needed medicated before that happened. I needed it even more after. But…it’s still there.”

Heecheol knows he’s getting much more than he intended. He’s getting answers for the question he asked, and the one still sitting in his head, too. The professional part of him knows schizophrenia more frequently manifests in self-harm than it does murder, but it does happen. He finds himself staring at the thin scar on Seungmin’s forearm as more pieces fit together. “Did something happen when he left you there?”

Seungmin remembers it in pieces, and it comes to him like most of his dreams; disjointed and confusing. The memory returned to him slowly, over several nights in Daegu. Not even you know the details of this particular nightmare. “It was late afternoon when we went in, so most of my time there was at dusk…and dusk may as well have been night in those woods. But when night came, well—”

“What did you see?”

“It saw me more than I saw it, but I did see what it wanted me to see. It peeked from behind the trees, and it whispered…I think. I could hear something in my head…noises, vibrations…”

scratch scratch

“No…” Seungmin mutters. “Not now.”

“What?”

scratch scratch

The prickle of goosebumps moves down his arms; his stomach lurches. “Did you hear that?” He asks Heecheol, already knowing the answer. “The scratching?”

He waits a moment and listens before shaking his head. “I didn’t hear any scratching.”

Not now, he thinks, and his head falls into his hands. A few deep breaths might help, so he peeks through his fingers and focuses on the movements of his feet. One deep breath, and Heecheol’s hand moves gently over his back. It does the opposite of what Seungmin thinks it will—it calms him, just like yours does. The warmth is a welcome change to the cold sweat washing over him. “It’s not there…” he whispers.

“No, probably not.”

scratch scratch

“Fuck…last night didn’t matter.”

Heecheol chooses to ignore that comment for the moment. “Where is it coming from? The front door?”

Seungmin nods, and Heecheol’s hand is gone. The lock clicks, the door opens slowly, and there’s silence as he imagines him standing there looking out at the empty hallway. He returns, and his hand lands on Seungmin’s back again. “Look at me.”

Just like he listens to you, he listens to his friend. A soft voice with a hint of demand, as if he has no choice. Heecheol might have made him if he hadn’t immediately lifted his head, but the look is just as soothing as his touch.

“Let’s talk about something else, yeah? We have better memories to dwell on, I’m sure. How’d you do in school?”

“School? Oh, that feels like so long ago. I did well until high school, but I managed to graduate thanks to my aunts. Almost went to junior college, but I was too…uhm, I guess it wasn’t a good time.”

Heecheol nods in understanding. He doesn’t need Seungmin to explain that his illness held him back, if that’s what it was. Maybe college didn’t feel necessary after the inheritance he received from his father. Looking around the apartment gives him all of the information he needs to know in regard to that—Seungmin and you want for nothing. “I don’t want this to sound insensitive, because it’s just curiosity…”

“Yes?” Seungmin doesn’t care what it is, as long as it keeps him distracted from the noises in his head.

“The two of you aren’t married, even though I recall the nurse addressing you as her husband. And she doesn’t work, I take it?“

“We’re not, and no…she quit her job when she thought she was leaving for good.”

He wants to ask more about that—considering what he witnessed, the dynamic of their relationship is far more interesting than it was two months ago. “She’s here illegally.”

It’s been the least of his worries lately, which may have been a stupid mistake. The wrong person finding out could have upheaved everything just as badly as Seungmin messing up a kill. Now his mind wanders to the body down the hall—all the two of you ever do is play with fire. He can’t be so reckless. He can’t risk anything happening to you or the babies. “Yeah, I guess we should work on that. Marriage would be a good start.”

“The sooner the better. Put a ring on your to-do list.”

“What is it, Min?”

His gaze is fixed on the incubator in front of him; on the two of them cuddled together, sleeping soundly. Seungmin is still feeling a little bit of disconnect between him, father, and them, his sons. It doesn’t feel real yet, and he knows that’s partially because the three of you are still stuck in this hospital.

“Hey…are you okay?”

“Oh, I’m fine. I’m sorry.” He is. He really is.

Heecheol visited briefly before heading back home, and Seungmin does still feel a little guilty for not taking him to the station. Heecheol assured him it was fine, and him spending time with you was much more important. You made it a point not to stare at him as if at any moment you would have to defend Seungmin, and you did pretty well.

“I’ll finish cleaning everything up when I get home, now that I’ll have time by myself.”

You squint your eyes at him, as if it’ll clear up any possible misunderstandings between you. “Okay.” Since coming into the room, he’s been distant.

“I have something for you.” Seungmin’s hand fidgets in his pocket, but he doesn’t let you see what he has yet. “I’ve never asked you what kind of jewelry you like, but since you don’t wear much, and the things you do wear are very simple…I went with that.”

“Jewelry?”

He nods, and red starts to creep up his neck. “But if you don’t like it, we can pick something else.”

“No, no I want whatever you picked.”

Finally, he pulls his hand out and reveals a small wooden box, but he doesn’t know what to do as you stare excitedly at it. Should he hand it to you? Open it and ask how he assumes you’d expect a proposal to happen? Yes, he should probably make this that type of moment for you. “Okay.” He slides the lid open, and he doesn’t think he can get more nervous until he sees the ring again. Maybe it was a bad choice. He really should have asked what you liked. “I…” he stops when he feels himself starting to stutter.

“Yeah?” You take his hands in yours and hold them steady.

“I…was thinking we should get married. Pretending seems silly now that the babies are here, and I want you to feel safe and secure with me in every way. I should have asked you months ago.”

“We should, you’re right.”

“Yeah?”

You pull the ring out of the box and examine it carefully. “I was waiting.” The color is a soft blue, and on each side is what you assume are tiny moonstones.

“I’m not sure what kind of gems you like, but I figured their birthstones would be a safe choice.”

“Birthstones? Oh, is that what they are?” You look again, watching the middle gem change to purple under the harsh light of the room.

“Moonstone. And I forget the name of bigger one, but it’s pretty…right?”

Every angle gives you a new color; blue, purple, and even a hint of green. The June birthstone is one thing, and it was a safe choice—it was also a good choice, but it changing between yours and his favorite color is another; it feels like it was made just for you. Seungmin takes the ring back and slides it until it’s snug against his mother’s silver wedding band. “It’s perfect. You are very good at this.”

“At what?”

“All the little things you do for me. And the things you say.”

His fingers tap nervously on the bed. “I mean everything, all of it. Everything I say and do.”

“I know, Minnie. You’re a natural.”

He smiles, but not before trying to hold it back. “As soon as you’re able to come home, we’ll make it official.”

Three days in this bed has been more than enough, and you’ve been waiting not so patiently to be discharged. Going home without the boys will be difficult, though. “They said today, probably.”

“Heecheol said they could be here the rest of the time you should have been pregnant. Is that true…they’ll be here for months?”

Before you can answer, the nurse knocks softly and lets herself in. In her hands is a clipboard full of the discharge papers you’ve been waiting all morning to sign.

“How long will they have to stay here?” Seungmin asks, and his concern seems to be coming from the fact that you’re going home. You assume he felt content knowing you were always close by, even if he missed you, but that won’t be the case soon.

She smiles sweetly at him, obviously honing in on his anxiety. This is the same nurse that made you feel better about being here, and about how well the twins were being cared for. “It’s always hard to say for certain. They came very early, but they’re both healthy, so our main concern for them is weight gain.”

“We can visit them every day, Minnie”

“You can.” The nurse looks in at them sleeping comfortably. In each of their mouths is a pacifier, and both of them seem to already mastered their sucking reflex. “It’s very important you see them as often as possible. They could be home as early as six or seven weeks from now if we can hit our goal weight…two kilograms at the very least would be ideal.”

“See? Your boys are healthy and strong, and we’ll have them home with us soon.”

The apartment feels different, even though it’s only been a few days. It’s not just the sight of a nearly finished nursery (the twin bed is gone, in the apartment next door, you assume), and it’s not the cots pushed neatly against the bedroom wall. The difference is coming from inside of you, and from the missing pieces that you couldn’t bring home. You never imagined missing the comfort and discomfort of them being safe inside of your stomach, but you do. And now it’s just…you. Your hand moves from your chest, still sore for the exertion, down the still noticeable bump. Everything is sore. Between the labor, and the uncomfortable bed, you can’t remember the last time your body held onto so much pain.

“Do you feel okay?” Seungmin sneaks up to place a kiss on your shoulder, and his hand lands next to yours.

He knows you’re not, and he only asks to lead into the next question. “I’m good.” You’re not exactly hiding it very well, and Seungmin saw every moment of pain as you pushed. “Just sore.”

“I can help you shower. Or if you just want to get into bed, I put clean sheets on. There’s a heating pad in there, and the air conditioner if you get too warm.” You turn and face him, and he smiles. “Or…early dinner. I prepped stuff for galbijjim.”

“Can I have all three?”

***

“So, he left without asking any questions?”

“Questions? Oh, Heecheol. No, he didn’t bring anything up except what you asked him.”

“Me? What did I…” What did you ask him? Everything from before all the pain is a blur. “I can’t remember.”

“You asked him if I wandered into the woods when we were kids. And the answer is no.”

Theres nothing stern or harsh about his voice, but you feel it in your gut regardless. Tears start welling in your eyes, but you manage to keep them at bay. “I’m sorry, I’ve just been worried. I wasn’t trying to go behind your back for answers.”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not angry, love, I promise.”

“I thought he might remember something you couldn’t, that’s all.”

Seungmin pulls you to your feet, but you’re suddenly feeling self conscious about dropping your robe. “I know. He hasn’t seen the things that I have, fortunately.” His hands tuck beneath the tie, and you grab them before he pulls it loose—the response is a confused look, a lick of his lips, and an arm around your waist. “No?”

“I do, I’m just not used to this body. And it’s been a while since we’ve had sex, or touched…or anything.” A few weeks, but it feels so much longer.

“Not because I didn’t want to.” Both of his arms slide around you and rub the sore muscles. “I’ve been afraid of doing something to hurt you, or them.”

“What happened that night, Seungmin? Why did you kill? Was it just a kill?”

The questions take a moment to sink in—not just remembering what exactly happened that night, but what you’re asking him, too. It was just a kill, he thinks…that he can remember. So much of it disappeared the moment you called him. “Yes, I think so; I used my knife, slit his throat, made a fucking mess. Luckily not so much that I couldn’t keep Heecheol in the dark if he looked for me in the bedroom.”

“His throat. It was a man?”

His hold on you tightens. “Yeah, I remember that much. It didn’t help anything, though. I can already feel it coming back.” The feeling, the itch—it starts moving in on him even more as he stands here with you. He held it back with the help of you and the babies, but now he can’t deny what the quiet is bringing. Maybe he can hold it off a little bit longer. “He was expecting sex, but nothing happened this time.”

“You’ve been so stressed, that has to be part of it. But we can relax a little now. They’re okay, and they’re safe.”

“And so are you. I can sit out here while you go in, if you want. But I’m not leaving you alone.”

Your hormones are going crazy. One moment, you feel ecstatic at the thought of seeing and holding them again, and the next you come crashing down because everything feels out of your control. You’ve gone through your entire adult life in the same body—one that Seungmin seemed to enjoy—and now you feel like somebody else. What hasn’t changed is the way he looks at you.

“I got you some new shampoo and body wash to try. It’s supposed to be good for after, so…”

“You did?” The overwhelming urge to cry returns, but the tears are different this time. You let them come and it scares him for a moment. “Thank you.”

“Why are you crying, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing's wrong,” you wipe at your cheeks and blink away the tears. “I’m just…uhm, everything feels so intense. Sorry, I’m alright. And I’m hungry, I guess."

“Oh, I think I understand. Are you feeling down?”

The tie is pulled loose, and the robe slides down your shoulders. “I was, but I'm okay.”

Seungmin’s eyes follow as it falls, but he catches himself and lowers his gaze as you walk by. You don’t look much different to him, but still, he finds you more attractive now than he ever has. It’s not how you’ve filled out, and it’s not the roundness of your face, or the blush across your cheeks…it’s just another version of what you were before—the one who loves him and his children. He told you months ago he would kill anyone who touched you, and that hasn’t changed, Seungmin feels that more intensely now than he ever has. He knows you feel it, too.

Eighteen days of care in the hospital is showing on the twins. Holding them is different already, and they feel less and less like butterflies with each visit. Seungmin sets his fingertips on Haesung’s back, and the rise and fall of his breathing calms the thoughts that continue to break through. The noises are quieter when he holds them.

“Have they put on weight this week?” You ask the nurse. “Are they doing okay?”

“According to their chart, Baby Haesung has gained a total of 500 grams since June 1st. Haneul has gained 492 grams. Another good week.”

“So they’re doing well?”

“Very well.”

Every morning, the two of you spend three, sometimes four hours here, holding them and talking to them. Every evening, you return for at least an hour for more skin to skin, and sometimes a song. Leaving is difficult. The two of you are here the most of any of our parents. Please remember to take care of yourselves and get plenty of rest. The nurse was looking at you when she said that yesterday. You have been sleeping well, though, and you were finally able to produce your own milk for the first time last week. Maybe that will bring them home even sooner.

Seungmin does the math on the walk home. “They might be there another two or three weeks before they reach two kilograms.”

“Maybe. But I’ll make sure I’m eating well and pumping enough for both of them every day.”

“Sounds exhausting…I’m sure it is.”

“According to my nurse, I should be eating an extra thousand calories a day to keep up.”

He stops and looks around, and then back at you. “A thousand? We should grab something extra for lunch then.”

There’s a little bit of guilt in him as he jogs down the steps and away from his mother, but not enough to stop him. And he’s not a complete liar, because he is going to work today…just not for another few hours. The trip to Seoul is a few weeks behind him, and it’s only plagued his mind more with each passing day. Now he’s finally doing what he thinks might help him sleep more soundly at night. Even the act of texting Seungmin seems forced, and he hates that, because Heecheol knows that deep down inside he feels the same about Seungmin as he did right before everything happened…and two months ago, when he laid eyes on him again after so many years. His friend grew into something he didn’t expect. From awkward and small; terrible eyesight; quiet and timid until he was on the pitcher’s mound, to what he is now. Seungmin is something else entirely—quiet, but charming and handsome. He carries himself well, whether he’s aware of it or not. The biggest difference, though, is that he’s now capable of the same violence that lived inside of his step father.

Still, as conflicted as he is about what he witnessed (it’s still sitting in a weird place in his head, like it hasn’t truly settled in yet...as if he dreamed the whole thing), part of him wonders what could have been, had the two of them found each other before you crossed his path. Even if Seungmin had no romantic feelings for Heecheol, it still could have been just the two of them…and god, how how badly he wants that. It’s painful to think about.

The bus takes him past the hospital and continues north for another few miles before the scenery starts to become familiar. Not a good familiar. He wasn’t sure how he’d feel once he got this close, but now it’s here—a cold, heavy rock sitting in the pit of his stomach. But visions of his childhood come through much clearer now. Warm summer nights in the greenhouse, looking at the stars; staying up too late and laughing too loudly, risking the wrath of his step father; testing their courage by seeing who could stand at the edge of the woods the longest, backs to the trees. Seungmin somehow won every time.

The bus driver eyes him curiously as he exits, and the loneliness sinks in as he drives off. It’s already unnaturally quiet, and he hasn’t even reached the edge of the forest yet. Now he has to walk two miles through it, and he’s beginning to have second thoughts.

The backyard looks the same. The greenhouse, the hanok…everything is exactly as he remembers it. It was summer when he left all those years ago, so even the wildflowers are nearly identical; the chipped paint, overgrown grass, and rotting wood is the only giveaway that so much time has passed. Heecheol half expects them—Seungmin and him—to come ripping around a corner laughing. But it’s quiet. More quiet than he remembers it ever being.

The first place he heads for is the greenhouse.

Inside, everything is in full bloom, and it’s more crowded with flowers than he’s ever seen it. He doesn’t know the names of them like Seungmin and his umma did, but he recalls seeing the purple ones (dried up and withering away) in Seungmin’s bedroom.

He walks up the messy path past the shed, and when he gets to the front door of the house, he’s not surprised to find it locked. As abandoned as it seems to be on the outside, the inside must be relatively well-kept if the two of you were staying here. Breaking in crosses his mind, and why not? Would one little broken pane of glass seem suspicious? It doesn’t take much to convince himself. Heecheol finds a rock, then changes his mind and looks around for something with a little more weight. A dragon statue catches his eye, and he remembers Seungmin finding and spending all of his allowance on it for his umma. He had to, he said, because they were both dragons, so technically it was for both of them. Heecheol picks it up, and the corner is sent into the bottom right panel of the window. It takes two tries, but he succeeds, and finding the latch and opening it is too easy. Climbing through the small window is a little more difficult at six feet tall, but he manages it gracefully.

He was right. The inside looks dated, but lived in. The first aid kit sits on the kitchen table, and blood seeping from that self-inflicted (he has to assume) wound runs through his head. Heecheol isn’t sure why he’s here, or what he’s looking for, but he wanders through each room anyway. Maybe he’s hoping he’ll learn more about his friend just by being in this space and breathing this air again. He needs to know what turned him into a killer.

***

Both of you slept in this morning, and after your two bowls of bibimbap are finished, (Seungmin tried to push a third on you) it’s finally time to see the six week old twins. The last two weeks were better than the others, so you’re hoping to hear at least one of them has finally reached the two kilogram mark.

You watch carefully as the nurse fills a bottle with your breastmilk, and she hands it to Seungmin. “Haneul has one more test to pass. Dad will feed Haesung, since the two of you have been successful…” She waits as Seungmin reaches in for him, and by now, he scoops him up easily and confidently before taking the bottle. “And we’ll see how well big brother latches onto mom.”

They took to pacifiers and bottles quickly, but actually feeding from you has been a challenge, and you can’t figure out why. You cradle Haneul and sit, and when he opens his eyes, his recognition of you feels stronger than it ever has. Daengmo made the trip with you this time—a desperate attempt, but the dog feels a little otherworldly sometimes.

“Go ahead and try…just like you have been.” The nurse tells you. She hasn’t lost any faith in your ability to do this with him, but she must sense your nerves.

“Okay, sweetheart...” you adjust yourself and bring him closer. “Just like we talked about, right?” This time you relax, because every other time, your overthinking didn’t help at all. Seungmin watches quietly, and the sounds of Haesung feeding relax you even more. “Oh, I think he did it.” His fists clench, and as soon as his fingers find Daengmo’s soft ear, they open and close around it.

“Yeah, he did.” Seungmin whispers. “You two ready to go home?” He looks down at Haesung happily eating, and he stares right back up with wide open eyes. Seungmin gently pulls back on the bottle until it’s free. “I’m sorry buddy, you need to catch your breath.” He swallows and sighs, and when it seems like he takes in enough air, he starts to fuss.

***

The sun is low in the sky when he gets to Seungmin’s bedroom. He didn’t expect to stay so long, but it was easy getting lost in the things that were left behind. In here, it’s easy to see how abruptly things stopped that night. It doesn’t seem like Seungmin has taken much, or even moved things since he left for his grandmothers house. Heecheol needs to keep things as neat as possible, or he’ll know someone was going through his room.

But he quickly realizes that nothing in here will give him any answers. Everything about this space is him before all of the bad things happened. Enough time has been wasted, and he needs to walk through the woods again to get out of here—he has no intention of doing that after sunset. Heecheol cleans up the mess of glass and pulls the curtain tight, and he looks back at the house one more time as he heads down the pathway. He ignored it the first time, but as he walks past the shed, he stops. What could be in there except for the memories of stories he was told about the long, cold nights locked inside? It makes him nauseous just thinking about the mental anguish Seungmin endured in there. Just him, the cold silence, and the smell of—

“What is that?” He says to himself and looks around. It’s just him here, he knows that, so why is he suddenly catching the familiar scent of a fresh cigarette? The smell turns his stomach even more, but it must be in his head. “Is someone here?” His heart pounds as he waits for an answer from nobody. Silence. Just the wind, and the slow creak of the shed door. “Fuck, I need to get out of here.” He tries. Heecheol’s next step lands wrong, and he barely catches himself as he falls forward into the patchy grass. His wrists give out, and he ends up flat on the ground—uninjured, at least. But he can’t even laugh at his clumsiness. Heecheol jumps up and looks around again, still expecting to see someone. Or something. The smell seems to have disappeared, so he shakes it off—he shakes everything off and starts his walk toward the pine trees.

With any luck, he’ll make it out before dusk hits and darkness takes over, but he’ll have to walk fast.

“There’s nothing in there. We were stupid kids just making stuff up and seeing things that weren’t there, and Seungmin is fucking schizophrenic…of course he saw things.” Telling himself that does nothing to quell his nerves, and he feels a pang of guilt for what he says about his friend. Seungmin was tortured and ridiculed for seven years, and the same hands that did it took his mother. Of course something inside of him needs to take that power back, that control, and kill. Maybe he did find some answers.

The woods seem to take every last sound as he enters, and Heecheol moves quickly down the middle of the narrow dirt road. Two twisty miles. He could cut right through and make it a little more than a mile, but he wouldn’t risk it, not with night so close. The trees are disorienting and everything in here looks the same, so another misstep could be disastrous. Just walk, don’t listen, don’t look around.

***

Seungmin can’t take his eyes off of them as they cling together at his bedside. You told him they had to sleep in their own cots, but keeping them together was fine as long as one of you were awake to watch them. And that’s what he does—he watches, and he still can’t believe how natural it is for them to hold each other the way they do. They are the same now; almost the same size, same dark eyes, same head full of hair just like he had as a baby. The nose, the ears…his ears. Truly identical.

“Hey…” Seungmin looks behind him where you’re starting to doze off on your side of the bed.

“Yeah?”

“What if I mix them up?” He’s serious. You’ve never seen him look so serious. “Is that possible?”

“Do you know who is who right now?”

He stands and looks down at them. “Uhm…yes. This is Haneul,” Seungmin adjusts the mitten on his left hand, “and this is Haesung.”

“Mhm. How can you tell?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe I just know?” He looks to you for more reassurance, and you crawl across the bed to give it to him.

Your first few weeks home after giving birth were difficult, and Seungmin knew to give you all the space you needed, for as long as necessary. Eventually, you felt yourself returning to the way you were before you found out you were pregnant, and before you thought he was growing less attracted to you. You couldn’t have been more wrong about that, but the two of you are still working on getting back to the way things were.

A shiver runs through him when you squeeze his shoulders. “And if it helps, Haneul has a little mole…” you place a kiss on top of Seungmin’s left ear, “right there. Haesung doesn’t.”

“It does.” He turns and gives you a look—a look that says please kiss me, touch me. Anything. All he’s gotten in weeks is a sleepy handjob. He’s been so patient.

“Lay down with me.” You pull him until he follows you under the blanket. “You’re gonna kiss me until my alarm goes off. We have eight minutes.”

***

The sun is setting a lot faster than it should be. Either that, or he’s walking slower than he realizes. It’s not like this isn’t familiar. As monotonous as the walk through these trees tends to be, he remembers landmarks, and most of those landmarks are still here. But still, he’s losing light, and the end of the road is nowhere in sight. Heecheol checks the time—6:55. The tops of the trees swallow up the sun, and whatever signal he had back at the house. Some sound returns, though...a rustle of dry leaves, as if an animal is scittering through them; a very distant bird song.

Almost there, he says, almost…can’t be more than a kilometer left, right? He should have checked his steps before he started. Maybe he should have just stayed home, or went in to work early for the night. And suddenly, as if the forest can feel his nerves starting to boil over, just like the smell of cigarette smoke hit him by the shed, another familiar scent starts to fill his nose. He wants the smoke back. He would trade this for any other smell. It has to be in his head, though—it has to be his fear going into overdrive and making him think he’s smelling the rotting corpse of a deer. Maybe that’s what it is. There aren’t many, but he’s seen deer running from these woods and through the yard plenty of times. It only makes sense that one would wind up dead not far from the road at some point.

Cheoli?

He cups his ears and closes his eyes. How stupid of him to come here alone. Alone! Walking through this horrible fucking forest by himself so late in the day. And for what? He found nothing useful here.

Heecheol. Is that better?

Why does it sound so sweet and light and feminine?

“Stop, please. I just want to leave.”

Maybe you’re still accustomed to Hale

The voice sounds like you. It sounds shaken and full of curiosity, just like you did when you asked about this place. It even has your accent down. Why is he hearing your voice in his head?

I’m not in your head

“Yes you are.” Heecheol walks faster and starts humming loudly to himself. If someone were to stumble across him, they would assume he was out of his mind. He feels out of his mind.

okay, I am…but I’m also right here

The forest floor hurts much more when he hits it, and this time, there’s no catching himself. He tastes blood on his lips, and a moment later, the unbearable throb of his wrist hits. If it wasn’t a twig he landed on, it was definitely his bone snapping. Where? He blinks the dirt from his eyes and looks around, but there’s nothing. And then there is something…the sound of footsteps. Heecheol scrambles to his feet, injured arm tucked against his chest, and stumbles as he tries to find some balance. He fails and lands hard on his side, and everything in front of him goes fuzzy and dull, like an old vhs recording. It doesn’t go away when he shakes his head.

stop moving so much

The voice changes. It’s stuck somewhere between yours, and the raspy smokers voice of Seungmin’s step father. It’s a horrible sound and it makes his wince.

that’s better, let me look at you

It slowly loses the sweetness of yours, and now it’s somewhere between his and something inhuman. “Where are you?”

you remind me of him

“Who?” He needs to stop talking to it.

but you’re weaker than him

Seungmin? Is the voice talking about Seungmin? He doesn’t ask. Heecheol keeps his mouth shut, but his mind is racing. If the static in his vision would go away, he could get up and run, but it’s getting worse. The only thing he can think to do is reach for his phone, and when he finds it, he pulls up anything he can. He can’t see, and only one hand is functioning properly, but whatever he does works. A ring. So he has a signal now. Two, three rings…four.

“Hello? Cheoli?”

“Seungmin, can you hear me?”

“Yeah…the connections bad, but…are you okay?”

“N-no. I don’t know.”

“No? It’s getting worse, I’m losing you.”

The call drops. He’s alone again.

***

Seungmin’s furrowed brow would be cute if he didn’t look so serious. It’s not just confusion on his face, it’s worry. A lot of it. You heard his phone ring, but everything else was lost in your post-nap fog. “What’s wrong?” He doesn’t answer right away, so you turn and check the cot on your side. Haneul is still sound asleep after his first time eating at home. Next you crawl over Seungmin, still quiet and staring at his phone, and check on Haesung. He’s just coming out of his nap, and a soft cry is starting. Before he can get too far, you reach in and run your thumb across is slowly fattening cheek.

“Uhm…not sure.” Seungmin tries calling one more time, and when it doesn’t connect, he starts typing. “It was Heecheol, but he sounded weird. The call dropped and I can’t get him now.”

“Do you have his mother’s number?”

He shakes his head and drops the phone in defeat, but he’ll worry until he hears back. “Hopefully the text gets through.”

“What did he say?”

“I asked if he was okay…he said I don’t know.”

“It’s hard not to worry, but I’m sure you’ll hear back soon.”

Seungmin needs and appreciates your positivity, but everything about the short phone call, even the static as it struggled to connect, felt strange. He checks the message he sent, but it’s just an error message now. Not delivered. “Yeah. I’ll try to keep my mind off of it.” Haesung is starting to cry a little louder now, so Seungmin pockets his phone. “Are you hungry again, buddy? Maybe you need changed.” He looks to you, because he’s only had the chance to do that a few times during hospital visits.

Every new experience with them is exciting for him, no matter what it is, even a diaper change. He insists you just watch while he works on Haesung, who’s still softly crying from whatever is bothering him. And as sweet as Seungmin finds the sound, at least for now, he hates not knowing exactly what’s wrong.

Before he can unsnap his onesie, his phone vibrates in his pocket.

“Heecheol?”

The static is loud enough to hear from a few feet away, and you don’t hear a voice behind it.

“Cheoli, I don’t know if you can hear me…I can’t hear you.” Seungmin’s voice is strained, as if he’s holding back the urge to scream into the phone. “I can’t hear you.” He stays on the line for a few more seconds before giving up and ending the call.

What can you say to him to put his mind at ease? This isn’t how you want his first day at home with the twins to be—plagued by worry and helplessness. You know he would benefit from a Xanax if you can convince him to take one. “Let’s get them changed and I’ll make you some tea. And maybe you should take something.”

“Take something?” Haesung squirms and kicks when Seungmin sets his palm on his stomach. “Oh, right…maybe. Tea would be good.” He looks at you every few seconds as he works, but you don’t know if it’s nerves about the job he’s doing, or if he’s trying to read something else on your face.

“I want you to enjoy your first day here with them, and I know that’s gonna be hard now, but they want all of you.”

Seungmin looks at Haneul, comfortable in your arms, and then back to his hands as they finish fastening the new diaper. The sound Haesung makes as he kisses his forehead finally gets a smile out of him.

The worst headache he’s ever had in his life pulses behind his eyes, and the tiny line of sunlight coming in is excruciating. He can’t move. He doesn’t want to move, but he needs water and pain killers. Heecheol knows only one thing, and that’s that he is currently lying in his own bed. He doesn’t even know what day it is, or how he got here, because the last thing he does remember is falling in the woods and…his wrist. The pain in his head is masking the pain of his fractured, swollen wrist until he moves it. “Fuck. Umma!”

A few seconds later, the soft sound of her slippered feet hit the hardwood floor. “I’m coming Cheoli. You must have had a rough night, there’s fresh coffee out here for you.”

“Umma, please bring me some water and Tylenol. And ibuprofen. Please, I’m sorry.” Asking his sick mother to fetch him things is his new low. Past Heecheol would roll his eyes at him. She doesn’t mind, though. She’s back a minute later with a bottle and a handful of pills.

“That bad? Oh, Cheoli, your wrist!”

He looks at it again and realizes just how bad it looks. It’s nearly twice the size of his right one. “Yeah, I know. I’m fine, umma, I just need to get this headache under control and I’ll get to the hospital.”

“Weren’t you just there a few hours ago?”

“What time did I get home?”

She sits on the edge of the bed and thinks. “Oh, it must have been around 6 am, when I took my medicine.”

“I got home at 6am?” He throws four pills in his mouth and downs the entire bottle as she nods at him.

So he can’t remember anything between 7 pm yesterday and waking up at noon. That’s a lot of missing time. His phone doesn’t give him much, but he does see several calls between him and Seungmin. One he made that lasted about eight seconds, and then two from Seungmin that he definitely doesn’t remember getting. There’s also an unread text message that delivered around the same time he got himself home.

Hey, my calls aren’t getting through. What’s going on, are you okay? This might not get through, either. Please call me when you can.

The signal isn’t strong in the outer parts of Uljin, so the bad connection isn’t surprising. He just can’t remember a single fucking thing after that fall…and now the eight second phone call. Heecheol decides he’ll call Seungmin, but not until after some x-rays and a splint.

***

“It’s just a sprain, surprisingly.” The doctor squints at the x-ray, but she doesn’t have to explain it further for him. He’s seen plenty of broken wrists on this light box. “I was sure with that swelling it was going to be much worse, but that’s because you let it go for so long.”

“Yeah, I had a weird night.”

“I’ll stabilize it for you, but you know we can’t do much else. Keep up with the Tylenol, and expect light duty for a while. Or just use some of your time off for a change.”

Time off. Right, he does have some saved up, but using it while he’s injured seems silly. He keeps telling himself he can use that time for an actual vacation, but he never plans anything, and he rarely leaves home. But another trip to Seoul is always a possibility. No…I can’t do that again. What if I see more of something I don’t wanna see? Maybe he should see more, because Heecheol still feels like he dreamed the whole thing.

The phone rings a few times, and eventually, he gets the generic voicemail message. He doesn’t leave one.

Hey, I’m sorry if I made you worry. Hope you’re well. How are the twins?

Seungmin calls as soon as the text delivers.

Cheoli! You’re alright? What the hell was going on last night?

He hears him, but it’s through that same static. A little bit more of last night returns to him.

Cheoli, say something

Sorry, hey. His head starts to throb again. “I’m good, everything is okay. I had a little too much to drink last night, and it’s finally starting to wear off.” There is a small chance he’ll actually believe that.

“I was wondering if you were ever gonna get in touch again, considering what happened last time”

Oh god, he knows. No, you idiot. The babies. “How are they?”

We brought them home yesterday! They both reached their goal weight and passed all the tests.” His voice quiets. “It’s scary, though. They’re still so small and fragile.

They’ll grow fast, and I’m sure they’ll seem fragile to you for a long time. But I don’t wanna keep you. Go be with them, and maybe we can just forget about the weird drunk call.

Already forgotten

The static in his head dissipates along with the call.

***

The buzz of his phone wakes him immediately, probably because he’s quickly become accustomed to jumping at the smallest sound, but he ignores it until he looks in on both of them. Haneul is on his side of the bed tonight, sound asleep—you’re finally in a deep sleep, too, so he’s careful about leaning over and looking into the cot on your side.

Seungmin is the only one awake, and his text message is, not surprisingly, from Heecheol. He must be at work, and bored, to be texting at 5:30 in the morning.

I’ll be in Seoul tomorrow! Maybe tonight. I won’t impose on you, I can get a hotel. Just wanted to let you know.

He doesn’t say why he’ll be here, but it doesn’t matter. Seungmin doesn’t mind his friend visiting, especially since he clearly didn’t witness anything too damning last time. He doesn’t act like he did, at least. Good enough for him; maybe not good enough for you.

“Why are you up, Minnie?” You mumble into your pillow.

Seungmin smiles and brushes the hair away from your face. “Just checking on them.”

It’s almost time for your alarm to go off anyway, so you sit up and start the process of waking yourself up.

“Did you get enough sleep? I can bottle feed both of them if you’re too tired.” He gives you his best puppy eyes, because he genuinely means it. Tired or not, Seungmin always tries to get you back into bed, and he has yet to say no to a feeding or a diaper change.

“I could never do this without you.” His eyes drop to your chest when you lay back again, and they stay there as you adjust and feel yourself to gauge the tenderness. He moves your way, shifting over until he’s snug against your side, and he very carefully wraps his arm around you. “I’m starting to think you were made for this whole parenting thing.”

That feeling of inadequacy keeps fading for you as the days pass with them, but it’s nonexistent in Seungmin’s mind. There never seemed to be any doubt in him about your ability to be a mother, and if he ever doubted himself, he hid it well.

He squeezes tighter and smiles, but his eyes don’t leave your breasts. “You think so?”

“Mhm. And I always took you for a thighs and ass guy, but maybe that’s because these weren’t there.”

A warm hand moves beneath the blanket, down your hip, and then slowly back up to your side. “No, I like your…everything. I always have.” But his need to touch the soft skin spilling out of your sports bra overtakes him, and he kisses and bites until you start to laugh. “Everything.”

“No favorite parts?”

“Favorite, hmmm…” He leans back a little and looks you over, and now you’re feeling shy under his intense gaze. “Yes.”

Seungmin’s smile makes your stomach flip, and you’re struck with a strange sadness—a looming feeling that he’s going to be ripped away from you, and you don’t know why, or where it’s coming from. Pregnancy hormones are still running wild through you, and nothing makes much sense right now. Just him, and them, and it’s all so much. You’ve never felt overwhelmed with love for so many things at once.

“This.” The pad of his thumb runs across your temple and tucks a loose piece of hair behind your ear. “Because…it helps keep mine together. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Do I? I don’t…I don’t know either.”

The silence is interrupted by Haesung crying out. It’s the loudest you’ve heard from either of them, and it sends a wave of panic through you. He swings his fists through the air and toward his face until you carefully lift him and hold him against your chest. “He’s warm.” You carefully remove the mittens from his hands. “How does Haneul feel?”

Seungmin reaches in and touches his forehead, his chest, and his legs. “Seems okay.” His eyes pop open and his fingers go right to his mouth. “Just hungry, I think.”

You stand with him and head toward the kitchen, hoping the motion will calm Haesung and quiet his cries. It may just be hunger, but it doesn’t sound like a hungry cry. You don’t get far. “Seungmin!” It slips out. Shouting is the last thing you want to do, but you can’t help it. The noise brings out another cry.

“What’s wrong?”

“There…right there, don’t you see it?” It’s been so long, you almost forgot about them. “It’s sitting there, by the stool.”

He looks, but there’s no reaction or jump or surprised gasp. “I don’t see anything. Let me get the light.”

“The dog. It’s the white dog. It’s staring right at me.”

Clearly he sees nothing, because you watch as he walks right by the two blue eyes to switch on the kitchen light. It’s there, tall and still, head down and eyes pointed at you, and then at Seungmin as he makes his way back to you.

“Close your eyes.” He blocks your view and sets a hand on Haesung, who’s tiny back is still heaving from his steady crying. “It’ll be gone when we look again.”

Maybe, if you count backwards from ten. Nine…eight…seven…your eyes pop open when Haesung starts to calm down. His face finally relaxes, and when he looks at you, the feeling of dread seems to pass. “Did you feel it , sweetheart? Is it gone?” You peek around Seungmin’s shoulder and look. It is gone.

The rest of the morning, Seungmin seems to look around hesitantly when one of the boys cry, and his eyes linger in every dark corner as he walks around the apartment. After mentioning it and pulling out the black wallet from the cafe several times, you manage to convince him you’ll be fine by yourself for an hour or two. Still, he’s reluctant to leave after the dog sighting.

“I was hopeful for a while that it was just…nothing. Stress. And then I wondered if they were pregnancy dreams.” Even though you were both having them. The shared delusions don’t really faze you much anymore. “Now they feel like bad omens.”

“Omens of what?”

“I dunno. But if you’re feeling itchy, go, I want you to. But please be careful.”

Seungmin goes, but he regrets it as soon as he hits the sidewalk and starts his trip south. The only thing on his mind is the three of you, all alone for the first time since coming home a few weeks ago. And even though they’re almost always quiet and happy (he was starting to wonder why babies are so stressful for some parents, but he’s guessing you and him have been lucky so far), and even with two of them, easy enough for one of you to handle solo for a few hours.

Still, he feels guilty. He tries to shake it off and focus on the task at hand—casing the creep that harassed you last month. Seungmin hasn’t forgotten, and he’s no less angry than he was the moment he witnessed him mouthing off and grabbing you. He still sees your distressed face, so close to tears—breaking his nose wasn’t enough, he’s looking forward to this one.

But he’s just gathering information today. Seungmin doesn’t want this guy anywhere near the apartment, even if he isn’t getting out alive.

He finds a bench across the street from the address on his business card—a life insurance salesman. Seungmin still finds it funny all these weeks later, but 5 pm comes and goes, and he starts getting antsy. A late worker, of course. Or maybe he just has a family he doesn’t want to go home to. Seungmin is hoping for no family to make his job much simpler. He decides to pull out his phone to give you an update, but there’s already a text waiting for him…

I think they miss you

Oh, are they upset? I can head back, just say the word

no no we’re fine sweetie…just wanted you to know how much we looove you

A warm blush creeps up his neck and face as he types. He knows you don’t want him distracted, just to be extra cautious.

더 사랑해

He catches him in his peripheral vision, taking his time, digging in his bag as he heads for the crosswalk. Seungmin follows. The man seems distracted, so keeping up is no problem, and the streets are just busy enough to keep him hidden. The walk isn’t going to be far, though. The address on his license is only a few blocks away, but Seungmin starts to feel uneasy halfway into the tail, and he can’t figure out why. Maybe it’s just him. Just worry. Stress. Less sleep. Thinking of your last words to him before leaving gives him the extra push he needs.

Go, you’ll feel better when it’s done. And I’ll feel better when I get to hear all the details.

You haven’t been shy about asking for details lately. Seungmin has told you stories about almost all of his kills now, most of them in the last two weeks. Yesterday you asked, very sweetly, for him to wrap his hands around your neck and squeeze just a little. He resisted for a while, but giving in was inevitable. You felt far too fragile beneath his touch, and he didn’t ask if you got flashbacks the way he did as his thumbs caressed your throat. Flashbacks, and all of his blood rushing to his cock as you pulled and scratched to get him closer. Seungmin was relieved that you initiated. He was afraid to admit how badly he needed you if you weren’t ready yet, but you needed him just as much.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, but he ignores it. No more distractions. The man takes a left, and he’s gone, but not for long—the building he disappears into is the one.

“Seungmin!”

Not him. Some other Seungmin. There must be at least one other Seungmin on this street right now. Focus.

“Mo!”

There’s only one Seungmo. Despite his racing heart—racing from the chase, and now racing double because Heecheol is in the city already, in this district, on this street. How is that possible? The sound of his friend’s soft voice is good to hear, though, he’ll admit. Maybe today wasn’t the day. Seungmin turns to look, but it takes a moment to find Heecheol’s face in the crowd. “Cheoli?” But even after the crowd dissipates, there’s no sign of him. Heecheol isn’t here, and he’s not on the other side of the street, either. “Heecheol?” The buzz in his pocket brings him back, barely, but the text message does the rest of the work.

This is where I’m staying. Just got here, earlier than I was expecting. Hope to see you!

The newest message is a room number.

Heecheol is miles away, so why did he hear his voice so clearly?

“Hi”

“Hi, you okay?”

“Mm, yeah, but I think today might be a bust. I’m gonna head home.”

It’s not a complete lie—he would never lie to you, but before Seungmin starts home, he decides to take a short detour. A quick subway ride to Heecheol’s hotel, and he’ll pick up dinner on the way back. It works out, because he very obviously chose somewhere as close as possible to the apartment. He wonders if he should let him know he’s on the way, or if the surprise visit would be nice. He did say hope to see you, and he sent his room number, as well. Sounds like an invitation.

A pang of guilt hits him on the way up the elevator. His mind remains on you, of course, and how you’re doing at home all by yourself. But he knows you’re fine, because you’d call or text if you needed him immediately. Seungmin won’t be long here, and he’ll pick up all of your favorites on the way home.

He knocks, and he listens to the soft sounds on the other side of the door. Footsteps, maybe a look through the peephole, the click of the locks. The door swings open, and he sees him. Just sees him. It’s his friend, he knows, but the static filling up his head makes his knees buckle and his eyes water. Seungmin doesn’t think he’s ever fainted in his life, but this must be what it feels like.

“Mo…hey, you good?”

Hands grip his shoulders and shake him a little, and he comes to. It’s no longer pitch black, but his vision is fuzzy, and the static turns to a low hum that slowly quiets as Heecheol comes into view.

“Seungmin, say something.”

“H-hey, Cheoli.” He stumbles in with the help of Heecheol steadying him, and suddenly, he’s fine. Like nothing happened. “Uhm, yeah I’m good. Sorry.”

“If you say so. You look good.” He closes the door, and sweeps his arm across Seungmin’s shoulders as he faces him again. “You must have been doing something important.”

“Important?”

Heecheol lifts Seungmin’s hand and examines the rings on his fingers. Seungmin lets him—he’s still trying to get his brain to catch up. “Yeah. Are these really Loewe?”

“Yeah, sorry…I don’t wear them much.”

“Sorry?”

He spins them nervously, “they’re flashy, I don’t like being flashy,” and finally looks at his friend. His hair is messy and damp from the shower, and he looks comfortable in his sweatpants and t-shirt. “I should have told you I was coming.” There’s a black splint on one wrist. “What ha—“

“No, you didn’t have to. Surprise is nicer.”

The hum returns. It feels like his brain is bouncing off the sides of his skull. If only Heecheol would reach out and squeeze it like a vice—that might make it better. “Cheoli.” He breaths. The faint feeling is coming back, and he isn’t sure he can stop it. Seungmin reaches for him, and his forearm is grasped tight by Heecheol’s good hand.

“Seungmin.” He replies matter-of-factly, face blank, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “Come here.”

“Okay…” he takes a step closer, and Heecheol pulls him until they’re almost nose to nose. But he doesn’t step back. He does nothing but examine his face; his sharp eyes, his parted lips. “O-okay.”

It’s not really a shock when their lips press together. No, not at all, because you’ve already told him this—that his best friend is in love with him. You told him it’s okay, it isn’t strange or uncomfortable for you. It’s understandable, you said, who wouldn’t fall in love with you? Seungmin laughed when you said that. There’s a laugh rising his chest right now, but he keeps it down as Heecheol pulls away to get a better grip on his mouth.

Seungmin wonders if you knew this would happen, and if this is okay. The guilt he felt about not being home with you doubles…triples as he opens his mouth to let Heecheol’s tongue in. It stopped though, the humming, that horrible feeling in his brain. All that’s left is a shiver running up his thighs, and the undeniable throbbing between them.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, but he ignores it.

[sincere1ystar]

Love’s Last Breath

finnick odair x fem! reader

When an illness comes to threaten the bond you have with Finnick, he proves that he’ll still love you in sickness and in health.

Even though Finnick seemed composed to others, he had a certain type of anger to him. It was the type of anger that ran through his blood and made a home in the vessel that keeps him alive. It’s always felt like a fire to him, not the kind that keeps you warm but the kind that will burn you into ashes. He outlived most of his peers for what? To get to this point? After all he’s went through during the games and being a victor, he can’t help but let it all engulf him.

If he only had one word to describe your presence he would pick ethereal. It fit you perfectly as you brought him peace that he’s never felt before. And once he felt it once he couldn’t fathom going without it? How could he? You blew out his inner fire within him and took care of all his burns. His insides were no longer filled with anguish as your love made a home in the place where it once resided.

So when you caught some mysterious illness, he goes straight back into that state of terror he was constantly in before she met you. Having ill health had nothing to do with man, it was all nature. He couldn’t make it go away in the usual ways he did and that terrified him. Even after building a strong persona for himself by being a victor, Finnick was just a man. And a man against nature has no chance, a message drilled into his head after seeing it in the games. Surviving during the games was his one chance that nature gave him. If he knew what the future would hold he would have held onto that chance and save it for later.

When Finnick opens the door to your hospital room your head is pounding and your whole body feels clammy and damp. You curse yourself for taking it for granted for when you didn’t have dozens of tubes in your arms as you watch the fan on the ceiling spin, it’s the only thing you can do with your lack of energy.

If you were able to you would have teased Finnick when he barges in with a worried expression on his face, but alas you were too weak to do anything but greet him with a small smile.

He greets you with a kiss on your forehead, to which you immediately retreated and tried to back away.

“What’re you doing? Are you crazy?! Don’t do that you’ll get sick”, you say worriedly.

“I was just checkin’ your temperature”, Finnick murmurs into your hairline before he gives you another kiss on your forehead. He can’t help but chuckle at you worrying over his wellbeing as if he was the sick one.

“Well next time use a thermometer”, you mutter playfully in response.

“Nah I don’t think I will”, he whispers to soothe your pounding head , “Think I like this way more… it’s more effective”.

You laugh weakly at his response. Your eyes can barely stay open, but you try your best for his sake. “He certainly didn’t come all this way to watch you rest”, you note to yourself.

But of course he notices the way your eyes seem to be weighing down. He notices the way you have trouble carrying yourself, even though you’re sitting up against a hospital bed. And of course he notices that your glow is gone, snatched away from you despite how hard your grip on it was.

“Rest now”, he murmurs softly, “I’m right here”. He holds his hand in yours to reassure you he isn’t leaving your side.

You’re about to protest when he climbs into the hospital bed with you. The bed was small to begin with so he must be cramped, but still he doesn’t complain as he wraps his arms around you. “Is that better now?”

You nod as you slowly start to fall asleep too weak to do anything else. Finnick doesn’t sleep much, his mind too worried to shut off for the night. He spends most of the night stroking your hair softly and whispering to you whenever you stirred. “Shhh rest honey rest.. I’m right here”, he coos softly everytime.

That’s when you realized that love wasn’t the way Finnick loved you when you were all dressed up and confident in your beauty. Love was when he still cared for you even when you felt like the worst version of yourself. Love was when he still found you gorgeous even though you felt physically rotten.

The phrase ‘love is the best medicine’, was a common saying back home. Finnick’s love brought you more comfort than medicine ever did. Pills filled with empty promises to take away the ache from your bones couldn’t compare to the man who could easily take away the ache in your heart.

[bellysoupset]

Weird - IV

When Leo opened his eyes again, everything hurt. His throat hurt, his whole head was pulsing, his back hurt, his stomach... He was staring at a white ceiling that was not the off-white from their apartment, specially not with those cool lights.

There was a drumming in his ears, his heartbeat, and everything sounded muffled.

He felt something squeezing his hand and Leo frowned, trying to search for the source of the touch without moving too much, when even moving his eyes made him dizzy.

Suddenly, Jonah was in front of him. Hazel eyes wide with fear, his whole face a weird shade of greyish brown from how pale he was, lips moving... But no sound was coming out.

Leo squinted, trying to hear his fiancé and battling the panic causing the blood in his ears to sing even louder. He could only hear Jonah in the far distance, like the volume was turned down to 5%

"Leo-" his eyes searched Jon's face, scared, as he fully started to freak out. Jonah's lips kept moving, but he was struggling to make any sense of it, "stop," he could lip read, "Leo."

The blonde pushed himself up on the bed, dizziness and exhaustion be damned, and then immediately regretted it as his stomach flipped and the whole world seemed to capsize. He let out a whimper as saliva flooded his mouth and all he could do was drool, pathetically, all over his lap.

Or at least Leo thought it was over his lap, but when he opened his eyes — he didn't remember closing them — there was an emesis bowl being held under his chin. He couldn't hear Jonah at all over the drumming in his ears, but he could feel his hand rubbing up and down his back. Soft fingers brushing cheek. A humming deep in his chest and Leo realized he had his temple pressed to Jonah's pec.

A pair of hands cupped his chin and Leo wanted to say he was going to be sick, to not move the bowl, but then green eyes were in front of his. Not Jonah's, they weren't dark and hazel, but clear light green. Wendy's.

Her brows met, eyes jumping up, looking at Jonah over his head, then she nodded and a little flashlight appeared in front of his eyes. Immediately Leo recoiled, curling up. The bright light sent a stab through his skull and caused his stomach to clench, vomit rushing up before he could think it through.

He felt Jonah's hands, one in his shoulder, the other one on his nape. His skin was itching, everything felt horrible.

Wendy said something, her light voice cutting through the fog better than Jon's did, "CT scan."

Leo turned his head, face meeting what he thought was Jonah's stomach and he pressed it there, trying to disappear. He wanted to wake up and feel fine again or at least simply go back to sleep, so he wasn't in pain, nauseous and deaf.

No such luck. He was awake and terrified as they wheeled him out of the room, not on a chair, his whole bed. Leo's head lolled and he squeezed Jonah's hand in his, trying to communicate he was mortified and he wanted to go home. He'd take being deaf at home instead of being surrounded by doctors.

A CT Scan involved putting him on a neck brace and stuffing him inside of a tube for a ridiculous amount of time. He could feel the thing vibrating, so Leo assumed it was emitting some sort of noise, but he couldn't hear anything but the steady thump-thump of his heart racing.

His whole body felt warm from something they had injected in his IV, a weird metallic taste in his mouth.

"Jonah," Leo rasped out, as soon as they pulled him out of the tube. He couldn't sit up without help and there were technicians rushing to his side, but he wanted Jonah, "where'ssss- Jon?"

His boyfriend crouched down, appearing between his legs as the residents held him sitting up and Leo tried not to fall back on his back. Jonah was saying something, but the blonde couldn't make any sense of it, so he scrunched up his face and started to cry, clutching Jonah's shirt in his hand.

It wasn't fair. He was getting married in two months and he was deaf now and nothing made any sense and he couldn't hear whatever Jon was telling him and it simply was not fair-

Strong arms pulled him into a tight hug and Leo melted against his boyfriend, continuing to sob.

Crying didn't help his headache or the pressure on his face, it made everything worse. Leo touched the side of his head, then his ear and clawed at it angrily, trying to shove his finger inside his ear channel and dislodge whatever was blocking sound.

"No, baby," Jon's voice filtered through, although Leo felt more it deep inside his chest than actually heard it, his hand coming to lower Leo's away from his ear, "-...hurt yourself."

The blonde let out a long suffering sigh, trying to wipe his tears, but his arms felt too heavy. It didn't matter, Jon was doing it for him, unbothered by all the tears and snot as he used his sleeve and pressed a kiss to Leo's forehead. He lowered himself in front of the blonde, eyes meeting his, a deep frown in his face.

"You," Jonah mouthed, slowly, so Leo could read his lips, "Will. Be. Fine," he cupped Leo's cheek, all soft, "Okay?"

He didn't believe it, but Leo still let out a little choked up "okay."

Afterwards, they went back to the room, a wave of doctors rushing in after Jonah. Still, no matter what they did, prodding him with and checking his ears with one million little objects, Leo still could barely hear a thing.

Exhaustion caught up with him as Wendy walked back in, now with Bella hot in her heels, holding a big folder that Leo assumed was his CT Scan. He wanted to be awake, to see Jon's reaction and try and gauge if he was lying or not about Leo going to be "okay", but instead his eyes started to get heavy, burning as they closed.

When he woke up again, Leo could hear arguing. His eyelashes seemed glued and he struggled to open his eyes. Once he did, it took him a moment to situate himself.

Jonah was standing, arms crossed, looking pissed off and Wendy was in front of him, in the same position, glaring at her best friend.

Everything was still muffled, but he could hear and that alone was relief enough that Leo teared up all over again. He could hear just fine Jonah's, muffled, voice as he scoffed, "I don't care, I'm not going anywhere."

"I'll sit with him, he's surrounded by doctors, you need to rest-"

"And what if he wakes up and I'm not here? He's been alone and scared enough, don't you think?" Jonah sounded incredibly pissed off, but Wendy didn't seem bothered by his tone.

"He wasn't alone and he'll be scared with you here or not, Jon, it's a scary situation. You'll do Leo no favors by colla- LEO!?" Since Wendy had entered the room, she was facing the bed, while Jonah had his back turned, and she shouted so loud that Leo recoiled as her voice cut through the cottony feeling in his ears.

Jonah whirled around, eyes wide and then crossed the room in one large step, looming over Leo as he didn't know what to do. Whether to hug him or kiss him or check if he was hearing, "Leo, angel, can you hear me?"

"You can't," Leo's voice came out barely above a whisper, words scratching at his throat, "you can't steal my pet name," he mumbled, causing Jonah to let out a hysterical chuckle, while Wendy said loudly "You heard that!?"

Jon threw himself over him, causing Leo to groan at his weight, but instead of pulling back he only hugged him closer. He pressed his face to Jon's fluffy curls, that were sticking up and going in every direction. He'd never be caught dead out of the house looking like this.

Wendy let out a relieved sigh, stumbling until her back meet the wall, doctor role momentarily forgotten as she braced against her knees and took deep, steadying breaths.

"C'mere," Jonah's voice was all choked up, thick with tears and Leo had no agency whatsoever as his cheeks were cupped by his hands and he pressed a bunch of kisses all over his face, over his lips, nose, eyes, "you're okay. I was so scared-"

Leo nodded, not pulling back, pressing his forehead to Jonah's and letting out a sigh. They stayed like that for a good minute, until Wendy seemed to recover her cool and walked around the bed.

"Hey there," she smiled, pushing Leo's hair back softly, "I gotta check your neurological functions, alright? And we'll get the otolaryngo here to check out your ears too. Are you hearing just fine?"

Leo hesitated, then shook his head, "muffled," he said quietly, curling up as close to Jonah as he could, as his fiancé moved around so he was partially sitting on the bed, "like your voice is coming through a radio."

"Alright," Wendy clicked her pen, shrugging as if she could remove the fear that had settled on her shoulders, "that's probably a side effect of the antibiotics, rather than real hearing loss. We'll run some tests to be sure and get you on corticoids, it should clear in a couple of days..." she wrote something down on his chart, but her hands were clearly shaking and after faltering for a second, Wendy put down her chart on his lap and lunged herself into a hug.

"Oh wow-" Leo mumbled, wincing as she squeezed him tightly, but hugging Wendy back with the arm that Jonah hadn't immobilized by holding him close.

"I'm so happy you're fine," Wendy's voice came out all squeezy and she pulled back, the tip of her nose red and her green eyes all sparkly with tears. She blinked quickly to get rid of them, nostrils flaring as she took a deep breath and straightened up, "okay- uhm, I'm gonna start testing you, alright?"

Wendy had argued he was allowed to go home and recover in his own bed, but Jonah argued against it and no matter what Leo said, he was put on overnight watch for one more day.

Three other doctors came to check on him and finally Leo was left all alone with his fiancé. Jon was sitting next to his bedside still as a statue and he hadn't moved a muscle no matter how many times Wendy suggested he go get something to eat while Leo was examined not even when Leo had sided with her.

He scooted on the bed, yawning and wincing as it made his ear pop, reaching out to grab Jon's arm and causing him to snap back into the present. Clearly he had been zoning out, judging by the big concerned frown he sported but that vanished as Leo intertwined their fingers.

"Are you okay?" Leo whispered and Jonah let out a scoff, moving his chair even closer to the bed.

"Am I okay? You're the one who nearly died, Leo," he scrunched up his nose, "never do that again."

"How long have I been here?" Leo opted for asking, finally catching up with the reality of it all. He still felt like this was all one bad dream, "I remember Bella..."

"That was two days ago," Jonah answered him, planting his elbows on the mattress and pressing Leo's hand to his mouth, "you were burning up with Bell, she called Wendy and they got you- to the hospital- I- I'm so sorry I wasn't with you, baby-"

Leo rolled his eyes, squeezing his hand, "don't be ridiculous, you couldn't have known-"

"I'm a doctor, I should have known... Wendy diagnosed you without even looking at you-"

"Wendy's specialty is neurology, Jonah, she sees meningitis all day every day," Leo frowned at his boyfriend, "stop with this. I'm fine, ain't I?"

"Barely," Jon pouted, kissing his knuckles again. He muffled a big yawn and Leo smiled.

"C'mere," he gestured to the bed, "get in here with me."

Jonah let out a snort, shaking his head, "I'll get fired, can't do," but he did drape most of his body on it, folding at the middle and hugging Leo's waist as if he was a teddy bear, "I'm just going to rest my eyes for a bit."

"Okay," Leo nodded. For once, he wasn't sleepy, although his body was sore and his head still aching. He combed his fingers through his boyfriend's messy curls, that were more frizz than curls by now, "who's with JD...?"

"Bella," Jonah's voice was muffled by his thigh, "she will probably be here in a couple hours, she was super worried... And she felt really guilty."

"That I had meningitis?" Leo repeated, incredulous, "how's that her fault?"

"It's not," Jonah yawned once more, "Luke and Vin are on their way, but they had to stop because Luke had a cluster episode-" another yawn, "so they'll be here tomorrow morning."

"Oh wow," Leo frowned, worried about Luke's wellbeing, but mostly taken back that they had been driving back just to see him. He had become acutely aware of how bad his situation had been when Wendy hugged him like that, but it was still weird, "do they know I'm not deaf anymore...?"

"Wendy'willtemmmm," Jonah's words slurred together, mixing into a yawn and Leo pressed his lips not to laugh. He leaned his head back, then opened a large smile as he could hear his boyfriend snoring, nothing had ever sounded so sweet.

[somewherebetweendisorder]

Touch Starved

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Warnings: slight angst I guess? fluff??

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY, REPOST, OR USE MY WORK IN ANY WAY

~~~

You were used to Jason coming home broken and bloody. Or at least, you should be used to it after two years, but it always comes as a paralyzing shock when he stumbles through the window, eyes wary as they land on you. Tonight is no exception. Just as he is inside the room, he falls to his knees, looking up at you.

"It's bad tonight," he warns, not quite meeting your eyes.

You step closer with the caution you would use to approach a wounded animal. There are days you forget this is your reality. Days when Gotham City didn't demand your fiance's time and soul. Days when the streets didn't deliver your boyfriend back to you, worse for wear and half dead. Days when the thought of having to stitch Jason up didn't even cross your mind.

Those fleeting pieces of normalcy were what propelled you through these nights. The hope that there would be another sunny day, sitting across from Jason at your favorite cafe, soaking up the heat like the baguette in your hand soaking up the minestrone in your bowl. Spoon froze in space halfway to your mouth as he recounted stories of growing up with Dick and Tim. Love weighed down the air around you, heavy with desire and longing and words you were both too terrified to verbalize. But you knew, you both knew what lingered there, in the tiny space between you.

So with that image in mind, fading in potency as you helped Jason to his feet, brought back to reality, you vowed to get him through tonight so that another day was possible. No matter what it requires of you. No matter how brutal the task, like a lighter held to wax, melting away your optimism.

"No."

The word is a cacophony in your bedroom, not a word he uses on you often. You struggle to remember the last time he said it. You can't. Meeting his eyes, a deep green, like spring foliage, you are alarmed by the apathy projected at you.

"What?"

"Not tonight. I'll do it."

"No, Jason, let me help. Please." You know the edge of panic is unmistakable in your voice, but you don't care. If he shuts you out now, it'll take ages to fix the damage.

He shakes his head but doesn't stop you from helping him into the bathroom and easing him down onto the closed lid of the toilet. He grunts in pain, and you wince, reaching for the first aid kit below the sink. The cache of gauze and hydrogen peroxide was long ago depleted from the original case. You have to buy more every couple of weeks.

Twisting the cap off of the brown bottle you set it on the edge of the counter along with a roll of gauze, a tube of ointment, and a pair of scissors that you just sterilized. You force your mind blank as you avoid his hard stare and hiss of pain as you work off his leather jacket and toss it on the floor. You cut off the black shirt he's wearing. It's beyond saving.

Once his torso is bared you set to work, cleaning the numerous wounds. You press a little too hard on a deep cut and he growls, hand encircling your wrist to stop you.

"Y/N."

"I'm sorry, Jason. I'm sorry. It's just-"

"Y/N," he repeats, firmer this time. "Stop."

He pries the antibacterial-soaked cotton pad from your hand and stands, towering over you.

"I'll finish. Go to bed it's late."

His words are dismissive, and he's already turning away from you, but your hand on his uninjured bicep stops him.

"Jace," your voice breaks on the nickname, your frayed nerves catching up with you. "What's going on? Why are you shutting me out?"

He doesn't answer, keeping his back to you. As the tears begin to track down your face, you trail your fingertips down his skin. The touch is soft, meant to soothe, but it's too much for Jason. He's been touch-starved his whole life, and on his worst days, your affection is overwhelming.

"Just stop!"

"No! It's been too long for you to revert to this self-destructive behavior. Stop shutting me out! Let me love you. This is how I love you. Just- Stop Jason, please."

His eyes finally meet yours, bloodshot and overflowing with emotion. Before you know what's happening he's easing down to his knees again, burying his face in your chest, breathing irregularly.

"I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry. It was so close tonight I just-"

"It's okay. It's okay," you repeat, fingers gently combing through his hair.

His lips seek yours out, desperate and hungry. You can sense it all, the toll that tonight took on him and the fear that lingers. You give in to the kiss, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. As his hands begin to creep up your sides you struggle to tap back into the rational side of your brain. Mind foggy from the kiss you take a small step back, fingers ghosting over his lips.

"Let's finish getting you cleaned up, Jace. Then you can take me to bed."

[drmaddict]

Mask

Summary: (Y/n) shows Ghost a different kind of mask.

Wordcount: 1.252

The myth, the phantom, the death with the mask, Ghost flinched.

(Y/n) just rolled her eyes.

Simon continued to stare blankly at her.

(Y/n) stared back.

Simon made circular motions in front of his face with his index finger and looked at his girlfriend questioningly.

"A sheet mask.", she explained and closed her eyes. "My skin is always dry in winter, so I do it more often."

Simon continued to look at his girlfriend. He had only recently started spending the night at her place more often. As a result, they had become more familiar with each other's daily rituals.

(Y/n) knew that he got up at 4 a.m. every day. (Y/n) had immediately given him a wrist alarm clock that vibrated to wake him up, so she wouldn't be constantly woken up in 'the middle of the night' just because he wanted to exercise.

By now, Simon was familiar with her evening beauty routine, as well as the weekly, extensive 'reset', as she called it. Bath, face mask, peeling, hair removal, eyelash lift (something that frankly terrified him), henna make-up, eyebrows-something.

He couldn't see through it, but it seemed to do her good.

Still, this image was new.

"Tell your eyebrows to relax.", she murmured.

Simon forced his face to relax. "Sorry.", he grumbled.

"It's okay." She relaxed and leaned her head back against the back of the sofa. "My face is just too small for these things. But it's so nice and cool on the skin." A grin steels itself on her lips. "I'm sure they'd fit you better."

Simon just grumbled dismissively as a ring went off from (Y/n)s phone. She jumped up and headed for the bathroom. His unmasked girlfriend came back and grinned mischievously at him.

"What?", he asked immediately, alarmed.

She pulled a small packet out from behind her back and held it under his nose.

"No.", Simon clarified and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

She pouted. "Oh, come on. It's really nice and good for your skin."

Simon raised an eyebrow. He pointed to his face. "Good for the skin? You can see the cheshire smile, can't you? Or the scar that nearly cost me my eye? The burn-"

"Simon-" she interrupted him. "I mean that..." She took a deep breath. "You think I haven't noticed that you have scarring pain and always get earaches when the weather changes, or that your eyes hurt when it storms?" She looked at the little blue packet. "Something like that helps to provide relief.", she pouted.

Simon sighed. He had hoped she wouldn't notice. "All right."

He sat down forcefully on the sofa and crossed his arms.

(Y/n) looked at him before she carefully grabbed his hand and pulled it.

"To the bathroom.", was all she said.

"What for?"

"I have to prepare the face first.", she shrugged.

Simon looked at her. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

(Y/n) shook her head in amusement, but pulled him behind her.

No sooner had Simon been placed on the toilet seat than she reached for a tube in her arsenal.

She squeezed a white, creamy substance onto her fingers and looked at him, beaming. "Can I?", she asked.

Simon nodded. She dabbed his face with a wet towel and then began to spread the stuff over his face. Her hands massaged in circles over his skin.

"What's that?", he asked.

"Cleansing milk.", she said simply.

"You know soap works too."

"Men." she just mumbled. "Wash up." she delegated.

Simon leaned over the sink and rinsed the stuff off.

He was immediately pushed back onto the seat and dabbed with a towel.

He was still processing the feeling on his skin, when (Y/n) reached for another bottle and dabbed the contents onto a cotton pad.

She ran it over his forehead, his cheeks and his chin. She was particularly careful with his larger scars. Simon looked at her concentrated face. Warmth fluttered around his heart.

She threw the small piece of cotton into the garbage can next to the sink.

Simon noticed that his skin wasn't as tight as usual. He usually just took a bar of soap and washed himself with it.

(Y/n) finally tore open the blue packaging and pulled out a slippery-looking white something.

"That looks weird", he said.

(Y/n) just grumbled in agreement. "Put your head back a little.", she said, gently placing her hands on his jaw and pushing his head into the desired position.

Simon waited patiently. She carefully placed the face-shaped thing first on his forehead, then his nose and then positioned the cut-outs so that they matched his facial features.

"Yes, your face is better suited to the standard size.", she sighed as she adjusted the piece here and there.

Simon let his eyes fall shut as she started to scratch his scalp.

"And?" she asked softly, sitting down on his lap for comfort.

He hummed with pleasure. "Refreshing.", was all he said.

She laughed and pulled her hands back towards her, but Simon immediately pulled them back to his head.

He kept his eyes closed the whole time, enjoying (Y/n's) caring hands.

Only when her phone beeped again and she slowly pulled the mask off his face, did he let his eyes flutter open again.

Her fingers began to massage in the excess fluid.

He let his arms move around her hips and pulled her against his chest.

She grinned at him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Satisfied?", he asked.

She nodded, beaming, and stroked his short hair again.

He pressed a kiss to her nose and buried his freshly groomed face in her neck.

"What are you doing?"

Simon put the pink tube back in its place in a flash. "Nothing."

(Y/n) looked at him with amusement. Simon looked back, caught off guard.

She reached into the small cupboard under the sink and pulled out two headbands. She put one on and pressed the other, still wrapped, into Simon's hand. "Move over.", she said, nudging him lightly with her hip.

Simon put the band to one side and held out his hand as (Y/n) squeezed a small amount of the cleansing cream onto her fingertips. She also put a small amount on his hand, put the tube down and started to clean her face. Simon did the same in silence.

They each went about their own business.

"You do know, that we will be doing this always together when you're here from now on, don't you?"

"I had suspected."

(Y/n) grinned and put on under-eye pads. She also held a pair out to Simon.

He looked at the two gel pads extensively, before pressing them to his face, as (Y/n) had done.

"I still have a lot to show you my friend.", she grinned.

Simon looked at her. Without make-up, wearing only one of his shirts, she stood there and had never been so beautiful as with those green things under her eyes.

He smiled gently at her. "I'm a fast learner."

She pulled him in for a quick kiss. "I noticed.", she smiled and pushed the slipped pad back into place.

"You and Johnny would get along well.", he muttered. "His ratio of hair care products to actual careable hair is irrational."

(Y/n) shook her head with a laugh and scratched the back of his neck. "I'd rather spoil you."

He rested his forehead against hers. "Thank you."

[frvnkcastles]

Hi favorite! 

Frank x reader who has panic attacks every time she sees a needle in a ptsd response and frank knows this, she needs to take blood for a test and he goes with her and calms the panic attack and comforts her

TAKE MY HAND, YOU’LL BE FINE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You’re terrified of needles, so when you have to get blood drawn, you need Frank more than ever.

Warnings: Needles, panic attack, feminine nicknames

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: Hope you like this anon! <3

Frank’s comforting hold on your hand was currently the only thing keeping you from absolutely losing your shit. The window of the car was rolled down so you could feel the cool breeze on your heated face, and your knee was bouncing up and down with a relentless pace. Despite Frank’s attempts to soothe you, you were so close to fully freaking out, and you weren’t sure he could pull you back from that dangerous edge.

You were regretting going to the emergency room terribly right now. You had gotten checked in for some dizziness and nausea, and the next thing you knew, the doctor had you signed up for a blood test — something you never, ever did. You had a zero tolerance for needles, and the idea of getting one inserted into your veins made you sick in the stomach and your knees weak.

But, with all love, Frank refused to let you risk it. You may not have been into needles, but he certainly wasn’t into your well-being being compromised. So, with reassuring promises that he’d be by your side the whole time, he had ushered you into the car a few days after your initial appointment and driven you to the lab.

”It’ll be over quickly, sweetheart. You’re my brave girl, you got this”, Frank started cheering you on once you were parked. In fact, the car had stopped minutes ago, but you weren’t able to get yourself on the move yet, your entire body stuck on the passenger seat.

With a sigh, not a frustrated one but a sympathetic one, Frank unbuckled himself and took the keys from the ignition before hopping out of the car and striding to your side. He opened the door and held out his hand for you, the look on his face full of encouragement, and with a shaky exhale, you interlocked your fingers with his thick ones and hopped out of the truck. You really didn’t want to do this, but the only thing getting you to act was the fact that you didn’t want to disappoint Frank. He believed in you so much, and he had driven all this way, so you refused to let him down.

He held your hand all the way to the waiting room where you sat down side by side, his alert eyes scanning the surroundings like he always did. There were only a few people, so you suspected you wouldn’t have to wait long, giving you only a little time to prepare yourself for the upcoming terror. As much as you wanted to be brave about it, you had no control over your reaction, and it annoyed you greatly. Frank understood, though.

”Hey, it’s gon’ be all right. I know you’re terrified, sweet girl, but in ten minutes we’re gonna be outta here. How ’bout I take you out for some pizza afterwards, huh?” he suggested, his eyes gentle as he looked at you, and with a faint smile, you nodded.

”That sounds nice”, you admitted, and with a grin, Frank pulled you in closer, his arm around your shoulders.

”Attagirl.”

Just like you had suspected, you were called in only minutes later, and with a gulp, you glanced at Frank. He gave you a look of complete faith and love, and you held onto that as you got up and pulled him behind you. Thankfully, the nurse didn’t protest when he walked in with you, and you clung onto Frank’s hand while you sat down on the chair with anxiety churning in your gut.

The nurse talked you through the process, promising that it was going to be quick, but you didn’t really take in any of what she told you. You were too preoccupied staring at the needle and the tubes that were going to be filled with your blood, and without warning, the panic kicked in.

Frank immediately noticed your shallow breaths and the way your eyes widened, and his heart shattered in his chest at the sight of you writhing in the chair. ”Give us a moment, yeah?” he asked the nurse, who kindly nodded and scooted her chair over to her desk to give you some space. Frank squatted down to be at your eye level, his hand finding a place to rest on your shoulder.

”Look at me, sweetheart. ’M right here. I promise you, it’s gonna be just a minute. All you gotta do is look at my face and squeeze my hand, aight? Squeeze it as hard as you can”, he comforted you, calm and collected as he talked you through the incoming panic attack. ”Easy, darlin’. Breathe with me”, he went on, staying close to you and locking eyes with you so that you’d have something to focus on.

You trembled, but with his help, you managed to fight off the panic, your breathing slowing down to normal. Your heart was still racing and your palms sweaty, but you chose to believe Frank — it was just going to be a brief moment, and he was right there with you through it.

”Okay”, you exhaled, ”I’m ready.”

The nurse rolled her chair back to you and praised you for being brave while opening the package of the needle. Frank noticed you staring at it again, and he quickly reacted. ”No, no, keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. Nothin’ else but my ugly mug”, he insisted, and a nervous chuckle slipped out of you.

”You’re not ugly, Frankie”, you argued back, but you still did as he had requested, and kept your eyes trained on him. You focused on his beaten nose, and when the needle pierced your skin, you took in a sharp breath and turned your attention to his deep, dark eyes. You saw the proud look in them, and it made you feel better. You looked at his lips next, convinced that he had earned the biggest kiss for when you’d be done.

”Doin’ so good, baby. Almost done”, Frank spoke with admiration, and as you trailed your eyes across the bruises all over his face, you were able to distract yourself from the needle.

The nurse finished, and while telling you that you had done well, she taped some cotton on your arm to stop the bleeding. You breathed out in relief, a tear escaping your eye as you realized you had survived the worst, and it put a smile on your face when you looked over to Frank.

”That’s my girl. Knew you could do it”, he commended you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head.

You said your goodbyes to the nurse and left the room, all the while applying pressure on your arm. Frank had a protective grip on your free hand, and when you made it outside, you finally felt like you could breathe.

”Thank you so much for being here. I really couldn’t have done it without you”, you reminded Frank, stopping him from walking just so you could reach up and kiss him. He happily responded, his nose brushing against yours as he kissed you back, passionate enough for heat to crawl up to your cheeks when you pulled away.

”Anytime, sweetheart”, he smiled, ”now, I’m pretty sure I promised you pizza.”

[malecardiolove]

The Test, Chapter 6

Jack lay on the stretcher, tied down and completely defenseless, his body still trembling from the last test that had nearly taken his life. His lungs struggled for air, and his heart, miraculously recovered, beat with a strength that no longer belonged to him. He knew that something far worse was coming.

Dr. Ruiz had mentioned a final test, one that would be different from all the others.

The door to the room creaked open, and Ruiz entered, accompanied by a team of assistants. Jack noticed that they were all wearing surgical gowns and gloves, holding shiny, cold, and sinister tools in their hands. At that moment, reality hit him hard: this time, there would be no cables, electrodes, or pink gas. This time, his heart would be the direct object of the experiment. He was going to lose it.

Ruiz approached the stretcher, observing Jack with an oddly serene expression.

“We’ve pushed you to the limit, Jack. Your heart has proven to be perfect… beyond anything I could have ever imagined. And now,” Ruiz paused, leaning in closer, almost whispering, “we’re going to make sure it keeps beating… even outside your body.”

Jack felt his skin prickle with pure terror. He tried to move, tried to scream, but his strength was gone. He was completely trapped.

“Don’t worry, Jack. You’ll remain awake throughout the entire process. I want you to witness the greatness of your heart.”

With a swift motion, Ruiz lifted a syringe filled with a clear substance and injected it directly into Jack’s neck. Immediately, a numbing sensation spread through his body, starting from his limbs and slowly creeping toward his chest. He could feel, but he couldn’t move. He could see, but he could do nothing to stop what was about to happen.

The assistants moved around him, preparing the surgical instruments with terrifying precision. Ruiz picked up a scalpel and held it over Jack’s chest, right above the sternum. The fear in Jack’s eyes intensified as he watched the cold metal descend toward his skin.

With methodical calm, Ruiz made the first incision. Jack felt no pain, only an intense pressure as the scalpel cut through his skin and muscle. Then, the team opened his chest, exposing his heart, which beat with powerful, steady force. Jack saw it reflected on the screens around him: his own heart, strong and perfect, exposed and vulnerable.

The sound of his own heartbeat filled the room, the only reminder that, for now, he was still alive.

“It’s a masterpiece,” Ruiz whispered, almost reverently, as he placed his hand over Jack’s heart, feeling its perfect rhythm. “I have never seen anything so perfect.”

With a gesture, Ruiz signaled to his assistants, who quickly moved to bring in a strange machine—a cylindrical device filled with bubbling liquid. It had cables and tubes connected to various monitors and emitted a faint hum. Inside, Jack could see a thick, bright green fluid bubbling—the same liquid that had filled the tank where he had been submerged before.

“This device will keep your heart safe with all the files of your echocardiograms” Ruiz explained, his voice calm as he adjusted some controls on the machine. “We will extract it and connect it here, where it will keep beating indefinitely. We need it in perfect condition for the next phase: cloning.”

Jack’s eyes filled with horror as he realized what was about to happen. His own heart, his source of life, would be removed from his body, torn from its natural place, and placed into a machine that would keep it alive separately. And what would be left of him? How could he keep living without his heart?

Ruiz leaned over him, holding a device that looked like an extractor designed to separate the heart from the rest of the body. Jack felt unbearable pressure in his chest as the doctor’s hands manipulated his vital organ with almost inhuman precision. His eyes couldn’t look away from the screen, where he saw his own heart struggling to keep beating.

The moment arrived. Ruiz severed the last blood vessels, and suddenly, Jack felt an absolute emptiness in his chest.

He watched as his heart was slowly extracted from his body, still faintly beating in Ruiz’s hands. The doctor carefully placed it into the bubbling device, where it was immediately connected to a series of tubes and cables. The sound of its beating filled the room once more, but this time, it didn’t come from his body. His heart, floating in the greenish liquid, was still alive—but separated from him.

Jack felt a wave of nausea and terror. His chest was empty. Something unnatural was keeping him alive now, but it wasn’t him. It was an imitation, a machine. And even though his heart was still beating, it no longer belonged to him.

“Your heart will be cloned,” Ruiz continued, wiping his hands clean and observing the device with satisfaction. “It will be the first in a series of perfect hearts, destined for research… and to save lives at the Heart Farm. There, all your suffering will have been worth it.”

Jack, weak and barely conscious, could hardly process what he was hearing. His vision blurred, and only the mechanical sound of his heart in the machine kept him awake. He tried to take a deep breath, but each inhalation felt shallower than the last.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was Dr. Ruiz adjusting the controls of the device that now held his heart, as the green bubbles slowly rose to the surface. His own life, beating inside a machine, far away from him.

And then, everything went dark.

...

An special thanks to @gayatheart and his beautiful heart in the echo video. Give him love and good fantasies with his heart.

[theoriginalkaminari]

Toga Himiko x female!reader

Warnings: character death, blood, reader has a Blood Manipulation quirk and goes by she/her

Request

"Oh wow, Toga!" You're eyes widen as you see the blonde smile.

Toga braced herself for your next words. She was ready to be told how terrifying her smile was, how terrifying SHE was. After all, she was used to people telling her that.

"Its so cute!"

Her thoughts change when she hears your words. You think she's...cute? Specifically her smile? Toga feels her cheeks heat up in a soft blush and reaches her hands up to your face, squishing your cheeks.

This sudden action takes you by surprise, making a pink blush spread across your face.

Toga giggled softly at your reaction, leaning in closer to your face. Her soft lips press against your forehead in a gentle kiss. She pulls back slightly, looking at how red your face is.

Toga giggled, holding you hands. These were some of her favorite moments with you.

Toga Himiko loved you more than anything.

The cold wind brushes against her face and through her hair, the atmosphere tense and sad.

No. This couldn't be happening. Not again.

Not you. Anyone BUT you.

She saw how one of the people she dearly loved snapped your neck in a brutal battle.

She saw how Izuku Midoriya took your life.

Your cold and lifeless lays on the ground, blood pooling around you. You eyes held nothing but a cold gray sky as you stared up endlessly into the sky. The sound of your neck cracking echos in her ears. The sickening snap of your bones.

You still looked beautiful to her. So pretty, all covered in your own blood.

But she didn't want this to be the end.

She always dreamed of living with you. In a fancy penthouse in Tokyo, maybe with a cute little dog or cat.

She always wanted that to be a reality. To spend the rest of her life with you.

Toga remembered the day you joined the League of Villains.

"Your quirk is Blood Manipulation, right?" She asks, tilting her head. You look over to the blonde girl, nodding your head. "Mhm." You hum in agreement.

Toga leans closer to you, making you lean back, slightly uncomfortable with how close she was.

"Lets be friends!" She says, smiling widely.

You don't get a chance to answer before she wraps you in a tight embrace. "I can't wait to see how your blood tastes!"

Your eyes widen, looking down at her with a shocked expression. "I'm sorry. What?"

Toga felt tears stream down her face as she stared at your body. She looks at Izuku Midoriya, her face stained in her own tears and her eyes red and puffy from crying. She looked at him with confusion and sadness.

"Why did you do that?" She finally asks him, her voice wavering. "She didn't do anything wrong..."

Izuku doesn't respond. He clenches his fists, looking directly at her. "I'm sorry." He whispers, turning away from her as he walks off.

Toga watches him leave with confusion and shock.

Why did he just walk away? Why did he kill you? Why....

Toga looked down at your body, suddenly filled with anger. She loved Izuku Midoriya, but she loved you more. And he was going to pay for what he did to you.

She kneels down to your lifeless body, holding your ice cold hand as she injects the syringe, watching as it takes your blood.

She rubs her thumb against the back of your hand. "Don't worry, I won't let go. I know how much you hate needles, honey." She whispers to you, smiling innocently down at your body. "Shh..." She takes out the syringe, now full of your blood. "Its okay. I'm going to make that mean boy pay."

She smiled in satisfaction to herself, holding the tube of your blood in her hands. "I've always wanted to taste your blood, sweetie." She says.

Toga bites into the tube, sucking the blood out of it. The liquid fills her mouth, the taste of iron spreading on her tongue. Her features become more like you, her hair fading into your hair color and her eyes becoming as soft as yours.

She pats her cheek, looking down at you. "Look, see, Y/N?" She beams. "We match now!"

Toga looks towards the way Izuku Midoriya walked off, seeing him in the distance, his body getting smaller and smaller as he walked further away.

Toga grinned to herself. She always wanted to try your Piercing Blood move. Izuku was the perfect target.

[sergeantsporks]

WATCHING AND DREAMING SPOILERS

Writing request: Luz tells everybody about what she saw in the Realm In Between. Including the weird Hooty in the Titan’s eye. They spend a while questioning and investigating Hooty’s origins, increasingly confused and terrified.

Gus held an illusion microphone to Luz’s face. “Did she look like King?”

“A lot, yeah.”

“Was he as big as the Isles?”

Luz tilted one hand back and forth. “At the end? She was bones, huge when she disappeared. But when I was talking to him… you know what, how about I just draw him for you?”

King’s tail wagged back and forth. “Yes!”

Luz sketched a pear, adding limbs and claws and… she paused halfway through drawing Papa Titan’s face. One of his eyes… “Hey, Hooty? You, uh…. You wouldn’t know anything about… Look, one of her eyes was missing and had a… well, a you dangling out of it. Do you know why?”

“Of course I do, hoot. That’s where I was born.” Hooty bobbed up and down. “Why do you ask?”

King grabbed Hooty’s face in his hands. “Hooty. Hooty. You’re telling me that you lived in the titan’s eyeball, and you didn’t realize I was a titan?!”

“How would I know that? I didn’t live in your eyeball. Geeeze.”

Luz pinched her nose. This was going to be a frustrating conversation, wasn’t it? “Hooty. If you lived in the Titan’s eyeball… why did you leave? How did you get here?”

“Oh.” For a creature without shoulders, Hooty was incredibly good at shrugging. “Evelyn felt bad about taking the eye for her portal door, and offered me a place to stay at her house. Or in her house? I picked in her house.”

Willow’s jaw dropped, and she glanced at Hunter. “Wait, Evelyn? Like, from the brothers Wittebane story in Gravesfield Evelyn? You knew her?”

“Told Gus all about it in our interview!”

Everyone twisted around to look at Gus.

“What?” he demanded, “I stopped listening five minutes in. Have you heard him ramble? He told me every single thing he’s had for breakfast since he spawned! Do you know how many times I heard the phrase ‘and then I ate a bug?!’ Too many times, Luz. Too. Many. Times.”

“Okay,” Luz said slowly, “Hooty, explain. Start at the beginning.”

“Don’t say that,” Gus told her in a strangled whisper, “Luz, what have you done?”

“Well, it all started the day I hatched inside of the titan’s eyeball,” Hooty began, apparently oblivious to Gus’ distress, “I don’t remember it! Not a single thing! But I remember crawling around in the titan’s eye.”

King looked like he might be sick. “Doing… what?”

“Eating it, of course! But then maggots started spawning, so I ate those, and that’s when I realized how tasty bugs were!”

“But… you’re a bug demon, aren’t you?” Hunter asked tentatively, “Isn’t it… weird… to eat bugs?”

Hooty stared at Hunter for a long, long moment, his eyes narrowing as he considered what Hunter said. Hunter shifted nervously, but then Hooty’s eyes popped back open. “Nope!”

“The titan,” Luz pressed, “You were living in his eyeball, eating maggots, and then…”

“There was a great squelching noise, and the eyeball was ripped away! A great flood of light shone through, and I was left hanging out of the socket.”

“And then?” Luz asked again.

“Then I found out just how many bugs there were in the world. Bugs everywhere! Buzzing all around! Grown-up maggot flies, beetles, worms—”

Luz had gotten used to Hooty—or so she thought. Every so often, he’d casually reveal some extra horrifying feature of his, and she’d be left in the lurch again. As far as the way he talked, she was usually confident she could handle it. But right now, she wanted to shake him until all the answers fell out.

“Evelyn,” she interrupted, “She took out the eyeball?”

“Yep! She said she was very sorry, but she needed it for her door, and then asked if maybe I’d like to come along, and I said will there be bugs, and she said more than you can eat, which I said wasn’t likely since I’m miles of empty tube, and she laughed, and I followed her home. And she dug a burrow for me, and I jumped in, but then I found the wood of the house. And there were termites! So I ate them, and burrowed into the house. Boy was she surprised when I stuck my head out the door.”

“And—the portal?”

“You mean Eda’s portal?”

“Yes—did Evelyn build it?”

“I don’t know. I was busy. No bugs were getting in on my watch. I ate a beetle, then a fire bee, then a worm, and then a fly, and then another fly, and another fly, and then I ate Evelyn’s kid, because I thought she was a large fairy, but Evelyn made me spit her back up. And then I ate another beetle, and an ACTUAL fairy, and—”

Gus pressed pillows against his ears. “I warned you! Make him stop!

“—and then I ate a really big beetle that was all shiny gold and white when it came to bother Evelyn—”

Hunter coughed. “Is he talking about Belos?”

“—but I spit it back up because it was the wrong kind of slimy inside, and it scurried off, and I never saw it again! And then I ate a whole nest of fire bees, and a—”

Luz held her hands up in a T. “I’m sorry, timeout, Hooty, go back, you ate Evelyn’s kid? And also maybe Belos?!”

“I was eating bugs and finding out what wasn’t bugs.” Hooty arched his neck, as if trying to appear dignified. “Lulu says I have an inquisitive mind.”

“You’ve got an inquisitive stomach, at least,” Gus muttered.

“So… about Evelyn…”

“Not a bug.”

“Right, but the portal, Belos—”

“Also not bugs.”

Luz almost growled. “Okay, but the house—”

“Not a bug.” Hooty tilted his head to the side. “Waaaait… if I’m a bug… and I’m the house… have I failed? Is the enemy within? Can I eat the house? Will it end, or will I become an endless ouroboros, the bird tube eating its own house?”

Luz blinked. “Uh…”

“Well! Much to think about! Bye, Luz!”

Hooty snaked out of the room, returning to his place in the door. Luz groaned, putting her head in her hands. “Why do I feel like I know less than when we started?”

Gus patted her shoulder, nodding solemnly. “The Hooty effect, Luz. Welcome to the club.”