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matchadobo · 9 months

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KIDD; reconciliation

summary: name and kidd got into a fight, how does it turn out? wc: 3003 warnings: afab reader, nothing heavy, a hurt/comfort drabble, mentions of sex but not the actual thing, just kidd sorting out his emotionally constipated self, mentions of alcohol

"you want me to what?" you gripped the transponder snail with much pique, immensely angered by being jolted from your deep sleep. even from your voice over the snail, killer could feel your teeth grinding from his request.

"name, i know this is a selfish request but-"

"oh it is, killer." you cut him off. "that bastard better rot out there, there's no way in hell i'm dragging his ass back here in the victoria if he drank his dumb ass stupid! it's all he ever does!" you were furious, all drowsiness leaving your body and was replaced by seething fury.

you hear him sigh over the phone. "i'm very drunk too, i-i didn't even understand what you said properly. we've already carried half of the crew and we can't carry kidd anymore." he laughed nervously, god help the snail you were holding because were you squeezing it so tight.

there was a long silence before you grumbled and clicked the phone off. you pulled yourself out of your shared quarters, fists clenched and brows furrowed. stomping across the deck of victoria, fuming at the events unfolding and what you're about to do.

they left the most inconvenient job for you, a man of his size amounts to almost several quantities of average weighing people. yet you're always the one who can help him haul his ass back to the ship no matter how blacked-out drunk he is.

his weight is not even the problem, HE IS THE PROBLEM! you two had just gone through a heated argument, it's why you were left on the ship when they were having a party in the pub earlier. you were too pissed to join the crew and have to stomach seeing him. yet here you are, on your way to help the root of your bane.

the fight was something trivial that exploded into something so stupidly vexing. you walked out and confined yourself to the sheets, hoping on sleeping it off successfully while he drags his lot to the local pub and drank his dumbass until he couldn't remember what happened before.

"name! you're her-"

"where's that fucking dumbass?" you wasted no time in greetings with the sober crewmates that awaited your arrival. what was once their cordial demeanor straightened up and led you stiffly to where your captain was.

he was sprawled on the wide span of the long, wooden seats of the pub, taking over one long table. his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shut tight, the usual scowl settled on his face. his good arm was loosely gripping an empty bottle of scotch, his consumption evident from the drool at the corners of his mouth as loud snores escaped his painted lips. the other patrons were seemingly disturbed at the sight, the motherfucker acted like he owned the place!

you sighed a disappointing huff before knocking the chair he was laying on over with one swift kick and fell on his ass as a result. your crewmembers not knowing if they should snicker or run from the sight.

"want your ass left by tomorrow morning or are you gonna pick yourself up and go back to the victoria, huh?!" you greeted, staring him down as you watch him mutter strings of curses while he tries sitting down. he fought off the dizziness in his vision and his heavy feeling as he placed a hand on his head to somewhat soothe the throbbing pain.

"can't sail away without a captain, short stack." he managed to bite back, looking up at you with the same bitter anger you glared at him for.

"did all the alcohol flush out any reason out of your brain or do you not get the idea that i'll drag your dumbass back to the ship because you're too fucking drunk to do it yourself?"

"i didn't ask you to." he bitterly answered as he tried standing up but miserably failed. "i can do it myself. you go back to the ship."

you sucked in a breath of disbelief. "you're incorrigible, aren't you?!" you crossed your arms. "you can barely stand up, you fucking numbskull."

"i'll manage by my goddamn self," he announced through gritted teeth, finally standing up on his feet. wobbly to be exact. "i don't need your help-"

just as he said it, you had caught him by your arms from his immediate fall. "if you'd just use your fucking brain than let it sit in that big head of yours, you wouldn't have to embarrass yourself like this." you snarked, getting a hold of his sinewy arms as you placed his flesh arm around your neck and settled a firm grip on his waist. "now shut the fuck up before i get the urge to catapult your ass to the seas and leave you."

"tch," he grinned, wobbling in his path together with you. "you wouldn't do that, butterfly." he teased as a burp followed his sentence afterward, unsteadily shifting his weight and subconsciously giving you a hard time. "you couldn't sit still when i was gone drinkin' so you came all the way here, aye? pretty fuckin' sweet of you."

your grip on him tightened, he grunted at how his nails dug into his skin and almost left scars that'll bleed. "f-fuckin' hell, can't take a joke now, huh?"

"if you think we're okay, then you're goddamn wrong." you hissed, dragging him in his feet firmly yet not enough to hurt him. "you're a fucking asshole i hope you know that."

"so i've been told." a grin tugged at his lips. "what do you say we put all that anger to somethin' more excitin', hm?" he tried pulling you closer by his arms in an attempt to arouse you but you beat him to it and squeezed a grunt out of him.

"if you think you can get away with apologizing by fucking, you're mistaken." you shut him down, "i'm tired of you treating me like a piece of ass."

kidd has been always getting away with apologizing by fucking you stupid. you end up forgetting what the hell you two were even fighting about or how deep your anger was for this redhead since his length does all the work for him. sorries turned into filthy insults and praises that turn you on more than it made you resent him. it's pathetic, really. the power he holds within you and your ardor for the control he reigns over you. he's a very bad man for you. not that you're shackled to leave him of course, nor the obligation of him as your captain convinces you to stay with him. you deeply detest how much you are willing to give than to lose him. oh how crazy he drives you.

you'd find yourself questioning your relationship with him, you detest how you always want to wake up next to him and find him clinging onto you. the softest look on his pale ass face as he peppered your skin with kisses in the mornings. you hate how your name sounds so good on his lips. you hate how he's always holding you close during cold nights as he warmed you up in his embrace. you hate how good his fingers feel intertwined with yours. you hate how he'd ruffle your hair when you do something exceptionally good. you detest the fact that with one look and one invitation from him, you'd completely give in and run into his arms; letting him have his way with you.

by the time you two finished bickering, you had reached your shared quarters with him. you plopped him to his stygian sheets, hands on your knees as you try catching your breath. this man will truly be the death of you, a claim proven by countless near-death experiences all closely related to or caused by him.

the bastard was already snoring when he laid on his back in a starfish position. but man was it hard to try and lie to yourself when you think that you can simply not look after him in this state. you sighed to yourself as you thoroughly cursed yourself when you sat at the edge of the bed beside his lower body and started to untie his boots. you couldn't resist leaving him like this, as much as you hated to admit it.

you pulled his shoes off his feet, placing them at the foot of the bed. you then took off his pants, sliding them off him. next was his vest shirt, you lifted him slightly to take it off his arms. as you were taking off his goggles, you noticed how ran down his eyeliner was. was he crying? or did he got drenched in alcohol? the former seems to be the less likely.

now left in his boxers, you tried slapping him awake but very lightly. "oi, wash yourself before sleeping here."

he grumbled, turning to his side as he threw an arm over you. "fuck that, let me hold you." he nuzzled his face on your thighs, smiling at the warmth and softness of you. "you smell good."

"that's cuz i didn't get out and got myself fucking wasted as if someone's gotta pick me up," you said through gritted teeth.

"don't be stuffy right now, it ain't cute." he teased, kneading the flesh on your rear playfully. "it'd be bliss to sleep like this."

you latched him off of you. "i'll just sleep somewhere else then." you've had enough, you're not letting this slide another time.

he had a firm grip on your wrist before you could even think about standing and leaving. "no, hey- where are you going?" he opened one eye, trying to look for yours.

"somewhere." you snatched your wrist away, crossing your arms as you faced away from him. your back was all he could look at as he pulled himself up and tried making sense of the events.

"don't be ridiculous, stay here." he pulled you by the arm.

"no, you know what's fucking ridiculous? me staying with a man who can't, for the life of him, apologize and treat me like the love of his life other than a fuck doll that keeps his dick warm and all the affection i ever get is when you're balls fucking deep in me and you start muttering how amazing that feels! that, that's fucking ridiculous don't you think?!" you let out all in one breath, chest heaving from all the emotional baggage you let out. "can't even step off the goddamn pedestal to say sorry for something so trivial, what more to serious fights huh?! do you just fuck me and move on?!"

you live up to the shutting-up-eustass-kidd allegations very successfully, because that man is sat there bashfully with his head down. because you and he both know that whatever you spat out is nothing but the complete truth. all your words knocking him sober.

he'd been avoiding dealing with how your fights are turning out. you weren't saying anything about it so he assumed that nothing was wrong, unbeknownst to him that the very reason you were quiet about it is because something IS wrong. as you got into a relationship with him, you knew he's a phenomenal idiot in love but you didn't expect for him to be THAT dense.

he swallowed a lump in his throat and spoke, "will you... become patient with me?" he rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to formulate his words and regulate the heat in his cheeks. the shyness and the feeling of him doing his best had somewhat warmed up your cold exterior.

"i've been nothing but an asshole to you these past few days and i... well, have no damn excuse for that." he chuckled dryly. "can you give me a chance to... uh... turn it all 'round?"

you were silent, trying to organize your thoughts that argued with the beat of your heart. after receiving no response from you, he cleared his throat, hesitating whether to reach over you or not.

"when you're ready to talk, you know where to find me." he concluded, standing up and walking out of the room.

you busted out crying when you hear the door shut. it's difficult being with kidd, especially moments like these where you almost want to give up but there's something so deep in you that holds you back... he holds you back.

unbeknownst to you, he heard your sobs and tried so hard to not storm inside and engulf you in his embrace. but he didn't, he knows better than to invade someone's vulnerability; much more yours. plus; he knows how much you wanted to not be close to him nor see him right now.

so he went on ahead in his workshop after grabbing a big bottle of beer from the kitchen. he tried distracting himself by tinkering with some trinkets and projects he was working on but you clouded his mind.

in utter frustration, he threw the scraps of metal he was holding on the ground and ran his fingers through his locks. he wanted to talk to you and get close to you. never in his life had guilt become such a sentience that ate at him. the only thing stopping him was that he truly felt sorry for what he did.

that's why when the clock stroke four, you pulled yourself together. a whole hour of crying and compartmentalizing, you now have the will to face him. you made your way to his workshop and knocked weakly at his door. "it's me, can i come in?"

after a few minutes of having no response, you opened the door only to find him slumped at his desk with the half-empty beer bottle in one hand and a little trinket on his prosthetic.

you clicked your tongue, is drinking himself stupid his coping mechanism?! you yanked the beer bottle off his grasp. you get a good look at the trinket he was holding, it was a metalwork of intricately bent lilies painted in white that circled into a necklace. each petal of the lilies was engraved with the letters of 'sorry'.

next thing you know, tears in your eyes streamed down your face as you held the jewelry on your fingers. each petal vein was meticulously chiseled just like the real thing. you held it close to your chest as you swallowed your remaining sobs.

you jolted him awake once more, "come on, let's get you cleaned up."

"augh, fuck." he groaned, the hangover coming in. "oh shit, you weren't supposed to see that." he let you carry half of his weight as you wrap an arm around his waist and his arm above your shoulders.

"you've got a shitty way of hiding it, dork." you tched, "you smell worse than a fucking pig, i'll dump your dumbass into that tub myself if you don't do it yourself."

he sat upright before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, maneuvering you on his thighs so that you are facing him. you leaned at the edge of his worktable, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself on his lap. his flesh arm that was once on your waist was now settled at the small of your back.

his weary, tangerine orbs that were once looking up at you soon became glassy. he then rested his forehead on your chest, pulling you closer by the grip he has on your waist.

"i'm sorry."

you hear him sob on your chest as your shirt slowly got damp, his grip tightening with each second the same way his cries become louder. you placed a comforting hand at the back of his neck, while the other gave his back circular rubs. he kept repeating those two words back at you while muttering his amends and you let him.

he then let you carry him to the bathroom, it was a silent stroll to your shared quarters. he let you take off his clothes and settle him on the foamy water of the tub. he let you scrub the grime off his back and shampoo his stiff hair; the water soon turning into a muddy greenish, black.

"face me." you broke the silence, ordering him to do so. he shifted in the small tub, his large body spilling over water and wetting you.

his eyeliner had run down and his lipstick was smeared from his nonstop booze consumption. he bashfully faced you, avoiding your gaze.

after dampening the washcloth with soap and water, you lifted his chin with your fingers, gently scrubbing the ran-down makeup off his face. "can't look after yourself, huh?"

"i like it when you take care of me." he retorted, finally looking at you. studying how you concentrate on each spot of his face as you cleaned it. "and... i always want you to. i'm sorry for being an jackass... all the time." he finally said it after swallowing hardly. "i was too much of a coward to deal with all my fuckin' baggage, i always thought sex would solve it all."

"i know you're a dumbass but i didn't know your brain does not fucking work."

he chuckled a little, raising his hand from being submerged under the water and placing it above yours. "i'm running out of chances to make it up to you, ain't i?"

"i want you to know that no matter how dumb you are, how fucked up you become, however many times your stupidity gets the best of you, and each time you find yourself in deep shit. i'll never get tired of you." you gave him a pinch in the cheek. "but the next time you pull this kind of bullshit again, i'll be seeing myself out. now shut up and let me finish this, i'm too sleepy."

"yes ma'am." he retorted, a grin tugging at his lips. "love you too."

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sturnad · 24 days

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NIGHT SHIFT p1

Pairing: y/n and Chris Sturniolo

Summary: a girl that just started working in a local cafe in her small town and a boy who just moved into her town because of his dads job.

Warnings: none

Finally, the last costumer before i close up..Atleast thats what i thought. My eyes flashed before my mind as i saw a tall brunette boy walk in. He closed the door behind him and as he walked over to the counter i quickly jumped behind my coworker and whispered to her while holding on to her apron.

"omg omg...can you please serve himm?" i whispered. She rolled her eyes at me and noded a no as she slightly pulled her apron out of my fist. "get up." she said motioning me to serve him. I sighed and walked over to the front. I put on a fake polite smile even though my stomach was doing flips. He finally walked over and looked around thinking what he should get before he finally spoke up.

"Hello.. could I get a chai tea please?" he said.

I noded while trying to get my words out. "Yeah..coming right up."

I quickly walked over to make his order. He just sat down on a chair behind the counter, patiently waiting while scrolling on his phone.

...As i waited for the water to boil i noticed my coworker walking up to me in the corner of my eye. She moved my hair out of her way and whispered. "Ohh do you like him??" she said.

My face turned PALE. I noded a no. God i was bad at lying. She chuckled at me and shaked her head before returning back to work.

I made his tea and awkwardly walked up to him. I slowly placed his order on the counter he was sitting behind. "Here you go.." i said quietly with a small grin on my face. I tried asking if he needed anything else but i stuttered so i just gave up.”U-m w- would- you like anything e-else?..” i said with my cheeks RED. He just laughed it off and smiled.. “you’re cute.. no im good tho..”. After i heard the words that came from his mouth i blushed so hard before smiling politely and walking away.

I quickly made my way to the “workers only” room and pulled my phone out of my back pocket and texted my bestfriend;

"Omg girl you wont believe it im literally shaking right now. Theres a boy who came into the cafe right before we closed up. Hes soooo cuttee!! Ive never seen him before though.." i quickly typed in before turning the phone off, shoving it back into my pocket and returning back.

As I washed the dishes from the last costumers my mind was full of the worst scenarios and things;

Should I ask if he moved here?

No why would you do that dumbass.

Hes so cute.

Omg what if i embarrass myself right in front of him!

..and suddenly my coworker snapped her fingers in my face. "Are you even washing the dishes y/n?" I snapped out of it and noded as i looked down at the running water.

He finished his drink and left the money on the counter before he just disappeared. I picked the money up and noticed that he left a tip, I smiled to myself, looking at the money before putting it in the register.

...Who is that boy?

We closed the cafe and i left to go home.

For the whole ride home i was thinking about him.

..but really who is he?

PART TWO coming soon

first time writing i hope its alright..

Im going to make multiple parts of this cause it will get interesting (i hope). If yall do not like the story keep scrolling.

TAGS:

@imwetforyourmom

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #night shift

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onlyseokmins · 12 days

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$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

How did a legendary bounty promised for turning in the wasteland's most infamous outlaw transform into a sick, little inside betting joke amongst your traveling companions? Though you have no idea why they're doing it… you sure as hell don't want that very same gunslinger comrade worth sixty billion double dollars to know anything about it either — but oops — looks like he already does! Damn you and your temper, some unhelpful lip-loosening alcohol, and one no-good, sorry excuse of a preacher you sometimes think of as a friend.

Pairing: outlaw!lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), trigun!au, action!au, apocalyptic/post-apocalyptic!au, space western!au, slight enemies to comrades to ??? !au, angst, fluff, they're dumbasses your honor 🙏 Warnings: swearing, blood, guns, injuries, medical tingz, destruction, mentions of knives, violence, unsettling space western things, slight body horror and hints at altered dna, weird religious cults, mentions of eating/food, alcohol, threats, bets among friends, tame-ish alien/monster/plant sex (????? listen it'll make sense - think of him like howl's bird form on steroids idk), mating, possessiveness!, marking, bruising, jealousy, smelling/scent kink???, wet messy sex uwu, wing kink (??? listen i was gonna explore it more but decided not to ok??), BITING (bc it's me), mechanical/robotic fingering???, gagging, bulge kink, oral sex (explicit male receiving and brief fem. receiving), seokmin's dick is like SLOPPY TOPPY LORGE w/ a mind of it's own, lowkey forgot how to write smut sorry </3 WC: 13.2k of 32.7k | Part 1 | Read on AO3 A/N: this is for the Now that's 90's - A Seventeen collab and loosely based off/inspired by the Trigun anime/manga! You do not need to know it as I manipulated a whole lot of elements for my own narrative but beware of various spoilers if you do go ahead and check out the series after reading!! I hope everyone enjoys the conclusion and please check out the other writers in this amazing collab ❤️PS, I know nothing abt chess lmaooooo but let me know your thoughts and feel free to ask any questions regarding this au's intricacies!! This part might get a little confusing because of a flashback!! (starts right after the italicized paragraph and ends with "...in this moment...")

The silence is palpable.

"Does it hurt more to get stabbed in the back or shot?"

Only the continual rustling sound answers your philosophical question. Not that you actually care because you weren't really expecting a reply.

So, you keep talking.

"I think it would be more painful to get stabbed… but it would take longer to heal from a gunshot wound."

There's a brief pause in the motions behind you. But the quiet resumes, though the practiced skill of a needle threading through your skin quickens. While the local anesthetics Tonim's doctor supplied is doing its job for the most part, you swear you can still feel the tug of flesh being sewn together.

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

If tension could personify itself right at this moment, it would do so with ease, given how heavy its presence currently sits in the room. A low voice finally speaks up, gravely and roughened after such a long period of silence and the hairs on your neck rise.

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

A heavy sigh — one burdened with all the worries of the world — follows. You wince and then tremble, wishing you could turn around. It's easy to guess what he's thinking but god, do you wish you could see his face to confirm. The fear of the unknown paralyzes you.

"I seriously am."

"Doubtful. I know you only asked me that question to subtly say you'll be okay and heal just fine but it's not that simple."

The callousness in his tone and the sharp way he says your first name makes you want to shrink down, shrivel up, and quite frankly die on the spot. Gritting your teeth, you succumb to the apparent silent treatment until the snip of scissors signifies your surgeon has finished treating you.

You think twice about your options upon hearing the click-clack of medical supplies being put back into the first aid kit. Then you think, "fuck it!", and use your good arm to keep the fabric of a spare t-shirt pressed against your chest and shift so you can face the man who just rather aggressively threw a handful of unused alcohol prep pads back into their designated slot.

"I'm super duper, utterly, and truly apologetic, Seok."

The gunslinger heaves another grand exhale of irritation. He doesn't even so much as glance at you, frowning sourly down at the roll of gauze in his hands instead. The temptation to reach out and touch him — soothe him — is strong but you decide against that (for various reasons) and resort to huffily pouting instead. Amazingly it seems to work, because he notices right away and folds way too easily without much of your sway, finally facing you with a reluctant but serious expression.

"Then what did you learn?"

Your gaze lowers, eyelashes fluttering while you drown in your feelings of shame and wrack your brain. The urge to toy with the silver chain around your neck is strong though you resist the tick and hesitantly answer instead.

"Um, that I need to fortify my mental block better?"

"Try again."

"Uh…"

"How about the way you're not supposed to play the hero?"

The tin of the trauma kit rattles as Seokmin slams his left hand down on the bed, leaning menacingly toward you. Though narrowed, his eyes seem to glow. You can't help but whimper at the intense ire dancing in those irises paired with his sharp tone. Like the desert's suns, it simmers and radiates off of him with rays of heat that you can easily feel given how close he is.

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," he states sharply though the rigidness in his body relaxes after your squeak of another apology. "You almost died!"

You'd defiantly cross your arms if you could. "Between the two of us, you were most at risk of dying."

"Was not! And we both know my chances of injury are much, much lower than yours."

"You can't lecture me and flex your stupid powers this time! It's different 'cause Jihooon was fuckin' with my mind."

The harsh bitterness is more so directed at yourself and the damned Crimsonnail than Seokmin. But as usual, you vent all your frustrated emotions out on him, especially whenever he brings up the fragility of your mortality. You both stare stubbornly into each other's eyes, thinking back to what happened and what could've happened.

Lina's protected. The Tonim residents were all immobilized. Seungcheol, Seungkwan, and Mingyu are in good spirits. You are safe.

A burst of air rushes into Seokmin's lungs, relief filling him as he idly scans your figure for injuries. Casually reloading his revolver just in case, he beams as you approach. The mirrored expression of victory on your face accompanied by a hand reaching out causes his whole body to shudder in pleasure. There's nothing he'd like more than to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Instead, he settles for returning your enthusiastic fist bump. Nudging his shoulder against yours, Seokmin chirps out, "Good job, partner!"

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

You shake your head like you can't believe him, amusement tilting up the corners of your lips. He wants to tell you everything, all of it. But his ears catch the faint click of a contraption behind him and he looks over his shoulder just in time to see Jihoon's crossbow assemble.

Joshua looks mightily displeased but makes no effort to put a stop to the Crimsonnail's actions. Seokmin can only thank his lucky stars that Soonyoung remains in a catatonic state. Dealing with a ginormous worm so soon after being in its stomach a couple days ago was not appealing in the slightest.

The fingers of his prosthesis splay out, cybernetic arm lowered and extended outwards in front of you as you turn around as well. He knows you hate unwarranted protection but you'll have to forgive his instincts this time. Nevertheless, he trusts you. And as Jihoon opens fire, Seokmin leaps into action, expecting you to do the same — only to do a double-take when you don't move despite a flurry of nails breaching the air.

Your eyes remain unfocused. Glazed over and cloudy, posture tense but still. He sneaks observatory looks your way from afar while firing Geranium. Round after round, breaking nail after nail to prevent any harm befalling you. A maniacal laughter rings out and Seokmin freezes, putting two and two together.

Then he snarls.

Jihoon must've sicced his killing intent — a nasty ability to project and create illusions of destruction in someone and break their will — on you. Cursing, he starts making his way closer to you, inwardly reaching out to you and begging that you'll break free of the blonde-haired man's clutch on your psyche.

You're obviously more than capable. He knows this. But your movements are sluggish, slowly releasing Sirocco from your grasp. The empty pistol lands on the sand with a muffled thud and Seokmin's pretty sure his heart mimics it. A look of terror and horror spreads across your facial features, surely subject to something awful within the confines of your own mind.

And while you're experiencing visions of things you fear coming true, he's stuck in the vivid reality where they do.

You spin around with a wild look in your eyes — full of rage and anguish. He stumbles back as you teeter one foot at a time toward him and in the distraction, a nail pierces right below your shoulder blade.

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

Seokmin rushes forward. But he's tackled suddenly to the ground and ends up flat on his back. Completely winded and left with his vision smarting, blinking in confusion at the blurry double halos that definitely shouldn't be around the duo of suns in the sky.

Then your face comes into focus. And god, forget the suns — in all your glory and in all your fierceness, you shine brighter than them all combined — hallucinations be damned.

It takes a bit of wrangling around, given how you try to wrestle and pin the man down. The clunky gun you're waving around goes off several times, harmlessly lodging bullet holes into the sand cushioning around Seokmin's head.

"Stop it, you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Moving and lashing out like a wild animal before it's fully sedated, his words don't come through the hellish haze Jihoon's trapped you in. You pull the trigger with no regard for the injury to your shooting arm.

Bang!

He dutifully counts each round fired, multitasking between that and the effort it takes to contain your struggling movements. Once again, thanks to the overpowered strength of his prosthetic, the man's finally able to sit up with you secured in his arms to cease any further movement.

"Lovely, lovely mayfly," he murmurs. The stable cybernetic hand gently feels around the impaled shoulder while a trembling thumb rubs your abnormally chilled cheek. "C'mon and snap out of it, pretty."

Not a spot of recognition in your blank glare. His eyebrows furrow as cold metal presses in between them. Seungcheol is cursing, Mingyu and Seungkwan are shouting loudly. Jihoon gloats.

But none of that matters. Seokmin drowns all of it out by diving in the pooling depths of your empty irises. Searching, calling, begging. Biting his lip, he delivers a quick slap and pleads, "Come back to me, love."

And like a mist that rises after dawn, you return to him. Your stunned grip on the gun falters, the final bullet rattling in its chambers. The pained expression on your face slices open his own heart but its shredded form takes flight in utter relief.

You're back. You're going to be okay — he'll make sure of it. And even if you don't know it, you're his and he's yours.

"Y-you're dead," you choke out and all he can do is smile despite feeling like he's on the verge of crying. Elation, anger, guilt, hope, longing, worry, joy — all of it turns and tosses within him like a rustling flurry of winged creatures struggling to break free.

So, he smiles at you and grasps the barrel of the old pistol aimed at his forehead. "I know, mayfly."

Jihoon howls in fury. Joshua finally steps forward, striking a military pose with his hands behind his back. Composed as ever, his voice remains its deceptively sweet self compared to the harsh jerking movements he's subjected upon the gray-eyed man via telepathy.

"You've crossed the line, lost number thirteen."

"Don't call me that!"

It's no surprise that the pecking order in Dokyeom's henchmen sowed seeds of dissent. Though Joshua was simply a right-hand man, he remained the only unnumbered member, proving the lack of disposability DK saw in him versus the others.

"Know your place."

"Which has always been at the top! But because of you — !"

" — The top of those already at the bottom, perhaps. Respect your superiors and your orders, Crimsonnail. You were not to lay a hand upon Master Dokyeom's brother. Ever."

"I didn't!"

"Or a member of his little group." His indifferent gaze swept over Seokmin protectively cradling your body. "This voids our involvement and nullifies any further implementations of the game."

Joshua would thank his lucky stars that the humanoid typhoon is letting them leave scotch-free if he was a decent man. Unfortunately, he's not — already considering what punishment to enact upon Jihoon per his master's orders. The Crimsonnail feels a shiver down his spine, further enhanced by Joshua's frosty, disdainful look of disapproval as he telepathically drags Jihoon to the car.

Still, it's a good thing Seokmin's a pacifist by nature, that he's more preoccupied by your well being than anything else. Your brow begins to bead with sweat, the pain of your wound finally sinking in past the adrenaline rush wearing off. Black circles dance in your blurring vision, the gun falling from your grasp as you droop forward and rely on the unerring sureness of his support and the safety within in it.

Seokmin knows he needs to get you medical help right away, and it's the only thing he can focus on. There's no time for exchanging a blow with a blow nor the faintest idea of revenge.

Not yet. Not now. Maybe never if it means putting you in harm's way.

Was he really going to give up following the bloody trail to hold his brother accountable for the unspeakable crimes he's committed? Throw away the blank ticket Rem spoke about? All for one person?

The questions all swirl around in his head like a nebulous mass. And like a newborn star — one that's been long in the making — the answer is crystal clear and shining bright as you sit in front of him now looking devastatingly beautiful to him despite all that's happened. Most importantly, you're safe.

But all he can say in this moment aloud is, "I'm sorry."

For a multitude of reasons. So many of them. You seem to spot something in his eyes, frowning ever so slightly.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm fine."

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

Seokmin runs his fingers in a distressed manner through dusty, matted strands of reddish-brown strands. Immediately drawing attention to the dirt, grime, and dried blood coating and dulling the cybernetic's buzzing glow.

"That's gonna be a pain in the ass to clean."

He appreciates the subject change, shooting you a lopsided grin. "Yeah, tell me 'bout it."

"Let me help."

You get up before he can protest. A tactical way to coerce him into worrying about helping you rather than arguing. The coy part of yourself is applauding the method, especially when the calloused flesh of his palm splays against the bare skin of your lower back in the name of support as you both walk to the bathroom.

That same part whispers naughty temptations to drop the t-shirt covering your chest, press up against him, and see his reaction. But your reasonable, reserved side is too held up on various other matters to give in.

Sadly, you find out you can't offer as much assistance as you would've liked. But Seokmin seems heartened by just seeing you up and about and close to him. Plus, you make use of your idleness while he washes in the sink by reaching for the few stocked amenities you can reach with your good shoulder above it when he asks for them. And you receive a heartfelt smile in return.

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

"Nah, it's fine, I can do it later. What about you, though? You're going to need help with those stitches."

"What a roundabout way to say you want to bathe together, Seok. You could've just asked."

Maybe you expected him to splutter nervously or protest fiercely at the tease. You certainly don't expect him to just shake his head — silver earring flashing in the vanity's dull lighting — and chuckle.

"I'm being serious, goof. Besides, it's not the first time I've seen you in the tub."

"What?" you squawk and his grin doesn't falter. In fact, it turns into a smirk.

"I'll go get Sherry. Lina's gonna want to see you too, she wouldn't stop crying about her pretty savior getting hurt."

You frown. Was he still going to dodge The Talk™? And did he think you were really just going to him out of your clutches that quickly?

"We still need to chat. You promised."

His eyes flash. "… And you don't like promises."

Yes, that was exactly why. He knew your history. Still, you refused to back down.

"No, I don't. But I like you… and, and most of all, I trust you. I just want the truth, Seok. Even if you think it'll hurt me, at least be honest. Trust me back. I promise it'll make it less painful if you tell me why you thought I wasn't serious. So, please…"

Don't let me down.

It's unspoken, but he can clearly hear it in your tone. A battle-worn sigh escapes so you try to lead him and finish with a question where he can give a more straightforward answer.

"… How long have you known? About the bet, I mean."

Despite wavering between semi-alertness and bordering the edge of losing consciousness, you're aware of Sheryl's presence as she bustles around with Seungkwan and Mingyu to clear out an empty room above the saloon temporarily used for patients. Seungcheol waits outside the door with you two, a cigarette loosely dangling from his lips.

When Sheryl leaves, she sneaks a peek at the way your face buries into Seokmin's neck, how the man carefully assesses the rest of your body for injuries. His touch is gentle, the cybernetic arm coated in blood as it holds the nail in you steady. He'd been adamant about being the one — the best one — to treat you. Smiling, she hands Seungcheol a couple of double dollars and the pastor raises an inquiring eyebrow.

"For that little game of yours," the woman whispers knowingly and gestures to the two who just exited the room and Seokmin hurriedly heads inside. "They told me all about it."

You lift your head to glare at Seungcheol and then your other comrades as you pass, wondering if this was some sick form of revenge for pulling one on him and if Sheryl was so keen to set you up with someone in the same way pompously done for her. But your shoulder feels like it's on fire so rather than reprimand your stupid, back-stabbing friends and slump back wearily against Seokmin.

He's a simple man who certainly can't hide a silly smile at the unconventional snuggling. Lifting his chin, he then tilts his head questioningly to the money in Seungcheol's hands. "You're still doing that bet?"

"Haf'ta win the lasses 'n hopeless romantics over 'n have 'em rootin' fer ya."

"Y-you know about the bet?"

Seokmin hushes you with a low murmur, words muffled by the press of his lips to the crown of your head. You can't make out what he says, but the timbre is soothing enough that your eyes close.

"Gotta make that sixty billion somehow if we're not turnin' ya ass in."

"Fair enough!" The wanted man laughs and closes the door with his foot.

His cheerful demeanor then dropped to focus on the proper procedures to treat your wound and that's when the silence settles in, soon followed by the weighing air of unresolved tension between you. And now, you're continuing the determined path to fully speed-run ahead and break it, though he shrugs nonchalantly at the question.

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

"C'mon, you know how bad Cheol is at keeping them."

"Yeah, right," you roll your eyes. "That man takes things to the grave — literally!"

"You're too hard on him." Seokmin leans toward you, bracing himself with an arm supported by the sink and brown eyes sparkling with humor. "Think about how much you've learned about him."

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

"Of course. He's a completely open book once you peel back that damn protective hardcover of his."

Still, you sniff disdainfully and frown. "I swear, you're the only one who sees him like that."

"Like what?"

"Like…. unafraid, unconcerned, unbothered by all that he is, all that he's done, et cetera."

"Why not? He's done the same for me. Besides, I've said it before but he has those eyes, you know. Kind."

Ah, and that's what gets you to resign with a small grin. It's just like Seokmin to see only the good in people.

"And you're not all that different," he continues with a broad, knowing smile. Immediately you bristle and he clarifies, "from me." Some part of you momentarily wonders if you spoke your thoughts aloud or if he just simply knows them that well. "As loath as you are to admit it, you care for him. Most importantly, you trust him."

Though your face sours at the thought, you don't retort right away. Sure, Seungcheol is a trusted ally. And maybe the motivation to free Jeonghan from the control of the Eye of Joshua wasn't solely because it was simply the right thing to do. But also because it might brighten the dull spark and leave one less bloodstain on the hand of a man who bore the burdensome weight of all sins like a cross on his shoulders.

Then you wave away those thoughts for now. "So, is that why you thought I wasn't serious on how I feel about you. 'Cause of the bet?"

"No, because I never knew the full extent of it. But… if you're saying it had to do with your feelings, then I would have to say yes — though I find it hard to believe any bet's worth my bounty."

"Oh." Your cheeks heat at unwittingly giving it away.

Seokmin smirks when you avoid his gaze, and he moves in even closer. "No one has sixty billion double dollars just lying around, mayfly."

"You're just saying that so no one turns you over to July."

"Well, you won't do it, will you?"

"You don't know that," you fire back, intending to heighten your defenses that only weakly falter because you're still not looking at him.

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

"Because you care too much about the man you like to put him behind bars."

Your eyes dart back to meet his, ready to squint reproachfully only to widen at how the gunslinger's face is only a breadth away from yours. Breath hitching, you desperately want to whine out in irritation but it comes out in a low whimper. Seokmin's canines flash in the bathroom's dim lighting.

"That's not, that's not fair." The wall pressing into your bare back keeps you from retreating and the hand keeping the t-shirt covering your chest feels how your heartbeat speeds up. Your skin is on fire, only the cool temperature of your locket and its chain preventing you from utterly exploding after the plaintive admission of, "You already know everything. But…"

"But…?"

The unconscious action of biting into your lower lip only gets realized by the way it keenly draws Seokmin's eyes. Electric blue flashes against brown irises yet they darken to almost black with the sudden thrill of desire that rises to the surface. He's so close, you can feel his breath caress your face, and you swear you hear it deepen into a low grunt before he raises a brow for you to continue.

"But… b-but I don't know…a single… thing."

Seokmin has forever believed Rem's take regarding the ticket to the future always being blank. For him, it's always been an unknown path forward that he's let lead him wherever and to whatever destination.

He holds himself back, just enough to utter the (practically what should be unneeded) words of reassurance, "It could only ever be you — and it's always been only you — that I could be in love with so much, mayfly," and then he's eliminating the meager distance between the two of you. For the first time, he stamps that blank ticket with an assuredness of the future and outcome he's never had before — with a kiss.

Cradling the back of your head with his cybernetic prosthesis, the other cups your cheek and then trails down to your collarbones — but no further than appropriate. His mouth, though, disregards the very notion. A teasing tongue repeatedly runs across your bottom lip to smooth out the indents caused earlier by your teeth then naughtily pokes and prods its way between, eliciting a sweet gasp from you he absolutely devours.

Your whole body shudders with happiness, eagerly surrendering to the man's wild, possessive fervor as he passionately steals the breath out of your lungs and stakes his claim on you by leaving behind shiny kiss-bitten lips. Seokmin only draws away, panting, to admire his handiwork, light-headed and dizzy with delight.

"I love you," he reconfirms with his forehead resting against yours and nose tickling your own, "… partner."

Breathlessly, you joke back after placing a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Love you too, partner."

And that was that.

With your shoulder injury on the mend and the other members of your little ragtag group nursing their own bumps and bruises, you all decided to spend one more night in Tonim — much to Lina's delight. While she merrily bounced from one 'hero' to the next, you playfully reminded Wonwoo that he still owed you some free drinks. You were eager to take advantage of the fact and he was more than willing to accommodate.

The tavern that originally held a subdued, slightly hostile air to it when you first arrived was now filled with an unfettered joyous harmony. You're so easily swept up in the ambiance of such high spirits and jubilant townsfolk as mug ales filled to the brim get passed around and clinked together, you fail to notice Seokmin's sudden withdrawn nature.

Not until the next morning do you first realize something's off.

"You're sure about this?"

"Oh, no. Not you too, Seok."

You'd already flipped off and shoved away a complaining, terribly hungover Seungcheol and finally got rid of the watchful, fretting gazes of Seungkwan and Mingyu. The duo had been hovering around you with concern ever since you downed a full glass of alcohol last night. While you generally just let them be and were quite thankful not to wake up with a pounding headache, you certainly weren't above crushing all of Mingyu's pudding cups if he meekly asked one more time if you were okay or needed help.

Seokmin leans against the open door frame as you pack. The pulsating glow of lost technology flickers in your peripheral and keeps you aware of his quiet presence. Part of you had always wondered if the ever-running currents of lighting synced with the flow of blood through the rest of his body.

The gunslinger doesn't speak, and you wonder why. And though you'd like to flatter yourself and entertain the notion that he's watching you — while other times that may be true — you don't feel the weight of his eyes trained on your motions. It wasn't like there was much to stuff in your bag, the satchel's leather cracked, faded, and well-worn after all these years of use through the desert and everything you truly value remains strapped some way to your body. So once you're finished, you inquisitively peek over in his direction.

Brown eyes are trained on the clunky gun on the mattress — the same one you'd pressed against his head. It's also the exact same pistol Chan had spent his adolescence restoring and repairing. Left unnamed unlike the honorary grave Seokmin had helped you prep before leaving the ruins of Ivywood behind. Meanwhile, his gaze darts to linger in contemplation on the chain around your neck before his eyebrows furrow, emphasizing the drawn out features and dark circles beneath his eyes.

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

"Yeah, just haven't been… sleeping well."

Frowning, you step toward him. Although he doesn't back away, his entire posture stiffens. "Will you be able to make the journey?"

He snorts, gesturing to your shoulder you're trying not to move too much. "Isn't that what I'm supposed to be asking you?"

"I'll feel better at the border."

Seokmin nods understandingly. "The weather will align well."

Within the sandstorms that relentlessly swirl near the Melca Border Sea of Sand, hides the only SEEDS floating ship that survived the Great Fall and you have to get the timing just right to reach it. It's home to a large community of humans, and most importantly, it's what you would consider a true home to you and Seokmin. Already, your energy restores — excited at the prospect of getting to relax in a place you trust and people you truly enjoy being around.

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

"That's true, it would be good for him to do."

"And I'm sure Hao's going to want to check your arm, maybe fashion some fabric that's not only bulletproof but also nail-proof."

"He's gonna give us both a scolding."

"Wouldn't be the first time."

You share a look of fond chagrin. Even though Seokmin's well over a century older than Juhui and Minghao, they were direct Earth descendants aboard a ship full of lost technology and geniuses in their own right. Those facts alone gave them all the confidence and utter audacity to more often than not, act like fretting toma mothers over the two of you.

Nonetheless, you appreciated them with all that's remaining of your heart.

The trip to the Melca Border wasn't a straight shot from Tonim but it wasn't as far as you thought. A bittersweet farewell to Wonwoo, Lina, Sherry, and the rest of the townsfolk was to be expected. Though their sorrow weighed you down, the knowledge that you were parting from them with good memories and the expectations to visit again kept your steps light-footed.

Seokmin remains zoned out the entire time. You bulk it up to his normal reaction whenever something emotional was on the horizon. Returning to Melca held a grand spread of wonderful, warm memories with a scattering of dreadfully sad ones too. Though the floating ship's defenses have been bolstered to the max over the years, the terrible events weren't easy to forget.

But they were incidents in the past and it's thanks to the intellect of the two who greet you at the entrance of the ship that their defenses continue to improve. Luida proudly stands behind them, accompanied by Brad and his wife.

"Greetings, weary travelers."

"We're no strangers, Luida," Seokmin protests against her formality.

The elderly leader's playful grin smooths out the wrinkles lining her wise face. "Welcome home, children."

It's a simple phrase but one that fills you with inexplicable warmth. Hansol might be the son born of her own body, but no one is immune from her maternal instinct. She beckons for everyone to come inside where the main quarters lie and the growing crew population will certainly be enthusiastic upon hearing about your return.

Seungcheol, Mingyu, and Seungkwan trail after without fuss, also elated to be aboard the familiar floating ship. You smile with genuine delight and step forward to follow while Minghao takes one look over his wire-rimmed glasses to survey Seokmin's dusty figure and elegantly tilts his head knowingly in the hallway leading to the technology laboratory. Glittery, colorful beads woven through the long strands of his two-toned hair clink in time with the movement.

It's hard to hide the snicker that escapes as you watch Seokmin trudge after Minghao like a scolded puppy. Your glee at someone else's suffering doesn't last long when a gentle hand clasps your shoulder. Wincing at the pain, you meet Junhui's puzzled look before his eyes narrow.

"You're hurt," he says, disappointed but not surprised, and leads you away to the med bay. It's exactly what you expected, in fact, the main reason behind why you're here — and yet, you sulk and whine petulantly just because you can.

"Not my fault that the only way to get here is by timing everything right to jump into a sandstorm and then onto a flying platform."

After instructing you to lie down on the medical bed and cutting the fabric of your shirt without fanfare, Junhui clicks his tongue. "You only come to visit when you're hurt."

"Not true!"

He concentrates on disinfecting and resewing the torn stitches in the tender flesh around the parts of your wound that are still healing. His tone borders on slight resentment but the concern weighing in it smoothes it all over.

"And yet most of our time spent together is only when you visit so I can patch you up."

"It's not like that."

"I know… but I would've met you elsewhere."

"Boring."

"Can't you courteously pretend to care about yourself out of consideration for those who worry?"

"You'll go gray at such a very young age if you stress all the time, Jun."

He shakes away silver bangs that threaten to impede his vision, unamused. "And you'll end up buried under the sand next time."

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

You wave his growing ire away. "Seok takes care of me just fine."

"Yes," Junhui's cat-like smile causes your metaphorical hackles to raise. "He does care deeply about you."

"I'll punt you into the fifth moon and give it a second crater with your body."

"Now, now… violence is never the answer."

"Violence is the only reason you have a job!"

If you weren't as close as you were, perhaps he'd be offended by your claim. Instead, he kicks you out (after ensuring you're indeed in relatively good health), leaving you to laugh victoriously. Then, you set off to the technology lab in good spirits, hoping to catch Seokmin and commiserate with him.

Instead, you find a lone Minghao sitting refinedly amongst all the tech with grace and poise. He was in his element. Fiddling with and poking at a well-worn, familiar cybernetic tech with a thin silver instrument, he simply raises an eyebrow to acknowledge your presence.

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

"But of course," the man sighs wearily, "despite my best efforts, my darlings always return home to their father with quite a beating."

"… Then you'll hate what I'm about to tell you."

"No, I cannot fashion you a pierce-proof trench coat. However, I will acquire some stronger material… but there better not be a next time."

You purse your lips and pout. It often seemed like Minghao worried more about his inventions than the people using them, though you knew that to ultimately not be true.

"So, he already told you what happened."

"Oh, yes… he told me everything." Heterochromatic eyes suddenly meet yours, sharp with a spark of amusement. "See, I almost didn't want to give him the latest modification but…"

"But…" You repeat warily.

Junhui was always mischievous, though most of it only ended with harmless pranks. On the other hand, Minghao's sarcasm-filled humor rarely made an appearance, and when it did, it usually delighted in the sickest of satisfactions.

Yet, he simply shrugs, evasive as always. "I think you'll like its improvements."

There's something foreboding about that statement, but he ushers you away under the pretense that he needs to concentrate. And shortly, you find yourself stopped by curious passersby or familiar faces in the hallways to the main quarters. Since your last visit, a multitude of passengers have a lot to share and update you on. By the time you reach your own pod, you're socially exhausted.

Sleep came easy but finding Seokmin did not. The SEEDS ship was already big in the first place and additional construction enlarged it further. An itchy, achy feeling pooled inside your gut on the second evening you'd been unable to catch sight of him. Finally, you acknowledged the bitter truth — he was avoiding you.

You had to come to terms with how delusional it was to think that once everything was out in the open, the scattered puzzle pieces would magically fall together in their rightful places. It should be easy, right? It's what happened in those cheap novels Junhui dug out of an abandoned pod in Melca back in the day. He'd given them to you as a birthday joke — Minghao sighing and handing over your real present (the first bullet-proof trench coat) — but you'd actually read through all the cheesy, steamy piles of romantic drivel.

Seungkwan, ever the cynic, and Seungcheol — who's naturally a heathen — quickly destroyed the slim spark of hope of ever hoping to feel those flutters in your gut. Meanwhile, Mingyu was someone precious and wholesome with a romantic outlook on life underneath the great muscular physique he'd gained from carrying that heavy concussion gun around.

You often wondered why they never tormented him like they did to you. But despite his indomitable stature, the emotionally soft man's tears were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Even if he didn't quite realize it, his comrades certainly were aware.

And Seokmin… well, if you knew how Seokmin felt about romance, you wouldn't be stuck in the position of wondering why the fuck he was avoiding you.

Again.

"Where is he?"

"Good morning," Mingyu greets the following morning, cheerful as ever. "If you're still hunting Seokmin for sport, he said he's feelin' a little sick!"

"Sure."

"No, he really is." Seungkwan refutes your aggressive eye roll with a gentle shake of his head. "Loverboy hasn't come out of his room for days and when I almost knocked the door in earlier, he finally responded only to sound like a dying toma."

Your face contorts into a morbid combination of concern and irritation, shifting between the two expressions. "Probably 'cause he stayed out all last night!"

And with a dramatic huff, you glower at the pastor seated in the cramped corner of the floating ship's kitchen area. Seungcheol deemed it was cooler, darker, and the farthest spot in the enclosed space from any of your misplaced wrath. He smiles, the white stick between whiter teeth jollily flicking up and down at you, taunting.

He reveled in the knowledge of being safe since he'd been the only one able to provide any information on the humanoid typhoon's whereabouts. The pastor — who still enjoyed a late-night smoke to cure some of his insomnia — considered it his saving grace to catch sight of the fellow gunslinger slinking through the shadows in the halls. Apparently, Seokmin had been sneaking outside the past few nights and remained resolutely ever-elusive during the day.

"Should go see 'im. Yer all antsy and 'm bettin' he's missin' his… mayfly."

"Oh, go fuck yourself," you snarl and storm out, missing the man's bark of laughter before he continues contemplating the best way to siphon money during a confessional.

The unfaltering stomp of your combat boots is the background beat on your walk to Seokmin's pod. His halls aren't far from the kitchen area and yet each footfall feels like a step into the unknown, the lights above seeming to grow dimmer the closer you get.

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

Worry and anger swirl together, mirroring the vortex of sand you had to pass through to get here. Seokmin's never shut you completely out before but you're familiar with his reclusive acts when things get too much. Too close. Too emotional. And you're afraid to be the catalyst to another spiral.

So, you knock. Harsh, loud, and ultimately unforgiving if ignored.

"Seokmin, open up! I know you're alive!"

A mutter of "Barely," carries through the door before he clearly answers with a curt, "I'm not feeling well but I'll be fine."

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

The silence continues — and your temper flares. "Don't make me go get my bag and grab my lock-picking set!"

You can hear sounds of cursing and some rustling around before the door slowly and reluctantly opens, Seokmin hiding in the shadow it casts.

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

Both a coughing jag and the firm push of your shoe interrupts his confident statement. "Sure hope you weren't about to say you're fine!"

A faint smoky scent permeates the pod. You cough and pause to let your vision adjust to the darkness. The first hint toward Seokmin's unusual behavior because he thrived in the sunlight, no matter how weak the sunrays that reached the floating ship were. Then second, you blink in wonderment at the black heaps littering the bed and floor.

Feathers. Everywhere.

Reminiscent of the time you'd broken Seungcheol's ridiculously expensive pillow against Mingyu's bulky bicep during a good-natured fight with Seungkwan's assistance. But instead of an explosion of brown and aqua toma plumage causing you all to sneeze, these were inky dark like the night sky and resembled piles of soot against the pod's stark white backdrop.

You whirl around to find Seokmin retreating to the corner of the room, hands slamming on top of the dresser for support. His back is to you with two thin wings jutting out from it. Feathers rustle as he pants, shoulders coinciding up and down with the motion of the wings.

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

It's not fear that causes your voice to tremble but worry. The appearance of his natural Plant form is no longer shocking. In fact, the more you see it, the more you find it eerily beautiful. Probably similar to those who believe them to be messengers of a higher power. But he's only ever transformed in dire situations — either due to stress or the rare exhaustion of his superhuman abilities against stronger foes.

He doesn't reply so you take a cautious step forward. An animalistic growl erupts from his throat, followed by a pained groan. You gasp as he shakes, protrusions rupturing from the lower parts of his shoulder blades. Two more wings burst out and unfurl below the trembling ones already quivering on his back.

So that's how they hide and reappear.

"Is it 'cause you're sick? Choi said you've been staying out all night. You could've caught a cold or something's in the air. Never know what's floating around here." You babble as you frantically search for signs in the mirror above the dresser for any hints to what's caused this.

Seokmin's bent over and you note what should be brunette roots of hair are now pitch-black too. Closer and closer you creep until you can make out each bead of perspiration trickling down his neck and how they coat every bare part of his body in a sheen of sweat.

Then his head snaps up. An eye — unshielded by the black fringe of his red-brown tipped bangs — narrows to glare into your widened ones. A tempest of electric blue rages within it. Like the hottest type of fire, it burns more than you could ever expect in a vortex of one prominent emotion.

Desire.

An involuntary shudder overtakes your whole body, and you unconsciously bite your lip. Seokmin slumps back down, granting respite from that ardent azure glow.

"Sick," he snarls and laughs, strained. "Sick in the head, that's for sure."

"How… how can I help? What can I do for you?"

"Get out."

"Seok —"

"I'm serious, mayfly. For your own good. Leave."

"My own good?"

"I'll, hah, I'll explain… explain it later."

Your arms cross. "Oh, really? Or will you avoid me again? Like you have been for the past several days?"

"I haven't —"

"Don't you dare feign indifference! I'm not stupid — we talk about our feelings and then you retreat. Just be honest with me… please."

You promised.

He sucks in a very deep inhale through clenched teeth, seeming to regret it instantly because his grip on the edge of the dresser is hard enough to crack the strong material. Glowering at your reflection again — not daring to acknowledge your very real and extremely close presence in the room — Seokmin bares his sharpened and widened incisors in a snarl.

"We will talk, mayfly, please believe me. Now's… hah… just not great timing with… with what's happening."

Irritation easily gives way back to worry. "At least tell me what I can do for you. Should I get Jun?"

"He can't do anything. Gotta just… work it out of my system."

"Work what?" You frown, knowing how rare it is for the medical specialist to be stumped.

"It's not for certain…" Four different wings flutter in agitation at various speeds. "Not a lot's known about Plant physiology," his mouth turns downward, "even I don't have a thorough understanding."

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

"You're talking in riddles and running verbal circles, Seok."

"… Dokyeom and I are independent Plants. Likely the only ones, well, you know — still functioning. Alive. When Rem found us, research was obviously done."

You know the story very well and nod. "And had been conducted before."

"'Course thanks to Rem, it wasn't as invasive but there were, hah, occasional talks. Theories. And then, of course, before us twins, there was…"

"… Tesla."

A Plant with a lifespan of only two-hundred and thirty days.

Seokmin swallows. "Tesla. Yes. I recall bits and pieces. Hypothesized with Luida and company… Outside of Dokyeom following the unethical methods humans sometimes conduct for experimentation," he snorts at the irony, "it's thought that Plants… can copulate… with a mate… of their, hah, choosing."

"Really?" Your eyebrows raise, intrigued. "That's a brilliant discovery!" Then they furrow. "Wait, are you saying that this," you wave your hand to gesture at his current form, "is because… you're, er, ready to… mate?"

He holds his head. "… Yes."

"Oh, okay. So, you need like… relief? A mate? Should I…?"

Your questions hang uncertainly in the air, unfinished because you're really not sure what you're supposed to even offer. A sarcastic smirk graces Seokmin's lips, condescending in the sort of way that's aimed more at himself.

"What kind of man do you think I am, mayfly?"

"A very, uh, Planty one for sure."

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

Finally, he turns toward you, a wry and defeated smile on his weary face. His wings stretch outward and curl back in, elegantly waving toward you as if drawn in your direction. You can't help but smile at the object hanging from a cord around his neck.

"You still keep that old thing around?"

He looks at the golden cartridge and chuckles. "It's special."

"Me holding a gun to your head was special?""Meeting you will always remain a treasured memory, no matter the manner of how it happened." Seokmin falls quiet, lost in thought before hesitantly asking, "Did I not mention Plants mate for life? Well, at the very least, I know I do."

"Oh." Your astonishment reveals itself in a breathless gasp. There's no escaping that all-consuming, fiery cerulean gaze. "So is this the first time you've been… ready to, uh, mate?"

"No, I'm used to the way these cycles come and go. But this for sure is the worst bout yet."

"… Why?"

You hold your breath. He takes a step forward. Then another.

He's so close, if you leaned the slightest bit forward you'd press up against each other. Somehow, with an overwhelming sense of shyness guessing the underlying thoughts and what his answer will be, your eyes roam his bare upper chest and torso.

If you could caress him you would. All the shiny black feathers adorning his wings and the occasional ones sprouting along his forearms pointing to his Plant abilities. Each scar along with every bit of metal or his body's naturally grown wood that replaces chunks of lost flesh. He's kept them as reminders of when he's failed humans, though you've seen them only as when they've failed him. He shivers, like he can feel it, as if he knows what you're thinking and you questioningly re-meet his burning stare as he shoots you a wane smile.

Sheepishly, he rubs where the cybernetic arm attaches to his shoulder. Many have turned away in disgust or mock pity at the disfigurements. Yet despite the true abomination he looks like right now, there's only ever been pure empathy and acceptance he doesn't deserve — all from you.

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

Your lips turn upward, joy causing your soul to unwittingly sing. "Does that mean… I'm your mate?"

"No."

It's like Gunsmoke completely collapses, and you're left twirling without footing in space. Seokmin matches your fallen expression with one of his own.

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

"I swear if you say 'It's me, not you'…"

He rather adorably tilts his head. "How did you know?"

"It's a typical cliche," you roll your eyes, "just give it to me straight, Seokmin. Is it 'cause I'm human?"

"… It's not that simple, and this isn't something trivial. It's — hah — it's a huge commitment." The use of your given name indicates his seriousness. "A lifetime one. For me, it's only ever been you… and it will always be you for as long as I live, which could be your whole lifespan! And I don't, hah, I don't know — hell, it's taking everything I can not to tear a dead man apart, let alone what I'd do if you'd change your mind, want something — someone else."

"You're doing it again, projecting and underestimating my feelings for you."

"It could be the effect of my pheromones, mayfly. We don't know every —"

"That's right! We don't know! So we have to trust each other and see."

"It's —"

"Let's not subject ourselves to the hypothetical. And what do you mean by dead man?"

Seokmin's jaw tenses, fingernails digging into numb skin. His wings waver, like they're considering cocooning around him for protection. But their tips simply flutter as if soothed by an unseen force, preventing them from enclosing completely.

Teasingly, you lean toward him and squint. "What else aren't you telling me, Seok? You pick a side hustle up that involves the deceased like Choi?"

He snorts at the audacity and doesn't take the bait. Instead, unfamiliar but still achingly familiar irises dart to your neck, tracing the silver chain laying against your skin. A dull sort of sadness fizzles out those blue fires and you clasp the shape of the locket beneath your shirt in realization.

"He was a boy, Seok. A boy I grew up with for a short period, one that felt like a brother to me."

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

"… To Cheol. After you first met him."

"That would've been so long ago? How do you even remember that?"

He sighs, heavily. "It's not easy to forget. Your voice was so warm, so gentle, so in love when you admitted it."

"Love can mean different things! And I assure you, my feelings for you differ greatly from how I felt about him. And… he's… he's long gone, Seok."

Guilt burns in his eyes. "I know. Which makes me all the worse."

"No, it doesn't." You shake your head, a resigned smile resting on your lips, and hold your arms out. "'Cause I understand and forgive you. And most importantly, I love you."

It's uncertain if those words break or restore him, but the hard rigidness in his body melts away, sagging in a semblance of relief. Then he rushes forward into your waiting embrace, wings helping to propel him forward until they wrap around and press you to him tight, tickling areas where his arms aren't squeezing around you.

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

You groan. "When will you stop calling me that?"

"Never," he snickers and you feel the curve of his lips as he comfortably nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "For as long as you're mine."

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

A chaste kiss brushes the lower tip of your ear. So ticklish and unexpected, you pull back with a giggle and playfully swat his shoulder. And just as he's about to dive forward and prove your little comment correct in retaliation, you burst into full-on laughter that leaves Seokmin to settle his hands on your waist with confusion crinkling his brow.

"What?"

"So that's why you were always having a deathly staring match between my childhood memorabilia?"

"… Was not."

"You — the most sentimental loser ever — definitely were!"

He pouts momentarily, the cute jut out of his lower lip quickly transforming to a devious smirk. "You'd bet on it?"

"Totally." You place your arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer again and matching the charge of electricity with a clever tilt of your lips. "I'd win, too."

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

"Mhm, and it seems like someone's bounty matches that worth."

Seokmin quirks a brow. "Seems like you want me on the table."

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

A bright grin certainly declares your delight in victory, though your partner in crime uses the distraction as an advantage for his earlier loss and wastes no time. Diving in, a sharpened canine grazes your pulse point, automatically causing your head to tilt to offer easier access. Two left wings sweetly swoop down for support, feathered tips tenderly brushing your forehead.

The heat of his tongue placates the dragging scratch of his fangs. Though it sears you alive, heating your entire body from the tips of your toes, swirling in your core, and concentrating beneath Seokmin's lips on your skin.

When reaching that cold, familiar necklace you treasure so much and he can't help but loathe, it's seized between his teeth before he registers the action. Tugging it away from your neck like a dog, you wonder if he'll even shake it like one. His eyes follow the length of the chain, focusing on where the locket pops out above your chest.

You raise a questioning brow. "You gonna just play with my jewelry or take my clothes off?"

"Oh," Seokmin whispers, jaw dropping, and suddenly stands stiffly at attention.

You watch, entranced by the bob of his Adam's apple as he visibly gulps. Large, calloused hands — so practiced in undressing you for baths and patching up wounds — falter as they skim along your sides in a fleeting touch. Smiling encouragingly, you intertwine your fingers with those of his prosthetic while leading the other one beneath your shirt, the rough flesh of his palm blisteringly hot against your stomach.

"Is this okay? Can it help calm your Plant powers?"

"Yes… but that means… giving yourself to me… forever."

"Can't think of anything I'd enjoy more."

Confident, you trail kisses up his jaw to his cheek, stopping near his ear. Playfully tugging at the earring hoop as you pull away. Then you break away and bend over, shimmying off your shorts in one smooth motion. Stepping out of them, next goes your top. As each fabric hits the floor, Seokmin's eyes become more lidded, heavy with want. Smoldering. Desiring.

Four black wings fan out and stay as rigid as his stance. As if they're waiting with bated breath. And when you finally stand bare before him, he sheepishly drags his gaze to the floor with a flustered smile.

"I'm the one naked and you're embarrassed?" you tease and his posture relaxes.

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

You back up until your knees hit the side of the bed. Like those morbid tales that depict curious listeners following a luring call to their demise, Seokmin's only a step behind you. He doesn't dare let his eyes stray further from your own, a goofy grin on his face.

"Consider this my fall from grace then, mayfly."

Gingerly, you sit on the edge of the mattress, waiting for his next move. He towers over you in this position. Formidable in appearance yet oh-so-gentle when picking up your left hand to kiss your knuckles and rub his thumb across its faded scar. Another smooch gets placed to your inner wrist and you hold your breath at the passion in those blazing cyan depths that refuse to look away. Then, a cautious touch to your shoulder urges you onto your back. Obediently, you lay down and a bunch of stray loose feathers fly up into the air upon impact.

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

The clothed knee resting between your legs helps his arm support the weight of his body hovering above you. A tentative hand slides down from your shoulder to your hip, leaving goosebumps in its wake. Caressing every scar, memorizing each color and swirl of ink decorating your skin, and erasing any insecurities or blemishes you see in yourself. Cold digits draw whimsical shapes and tickle your abdomen, stopping above your pelvic bone.

"May I?"

"Of course."

Seokmin rejoices in your consent by littering your collarbone with love bites. And his touches move lower, tender despite their mechanical nature. Warmth blossoms and flows under every surface of your skin Seokmin's traced, coiling and settling in a pulsating — almost painful — heat rupturing between your legs.

Only he can be the one to relieve this ache which he precisely aims to do. A simple, single brush across sensitive folds instantly has your breath hitching, shaking beneath him.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

He audibly gulps at your unexpected whimper of ecstasy, reluctantly tearing away from watching amorous bliss overtake your facial expression to the wet heat detected by his pointer finger's sensors. A feral growl rumbles in his chest at the debauched sight of desire beginning to dampen your thighs — the trace of what he's been smelling from you now overloading every single one of his senses as he coaxes more to flow from you. Seokmin's more than thankful for his enhanced vision and the glow of cybernetic technology baring your most intimate parts to him.

Guided by an instinctual impulse, he eases a finger inside. Your back automatically arches off the bed, eliciting a sweet gasp of delight. The cool touch of the digit seized tightly by the pulsating walls of your cunt slowly warms as it adjusts to the welcome intrusion. He soothingly brushes the knuckle of his middle finger across the soft outer flesh of your pussy to relax its grip. Eventually it lets up enough to let him explore further and deeper than your own have ever reached.

"I'm… I'm not sure how best to please you," Seokmin admits, drinking in your every reaction to his curious ministrations. "But there's this urge, this need, to make you feel good. Prep you properly for my… my entry."

By pure accident, he strokes a rough patch of nerves that makes your eyes roll back, hips lifting at the sensation of wanting more of whatever that feeling was, and your quiet noises melt into a loud, needy moan.

"More," you plead, "touch me more, Seok."

He eases his other finger inside without question, grunting at the squeeze that almost prevents him from moving to where you want him the most. But unlike the rest of his quivering body, the prosthesis remains steady, still, and patient. Waiting until it can bully itself and a third finger past your entrance's vice-like clench.

You start pulling on your breasts, trying to alleviate the tingling in them. Seokmin observes with a keen eye and a toothy, fanged grin. After a bit, he leans down to let his tongue trace the underside of one mound, leaving behind a saliva trail shining in the unconventional lighting as he tends to the next. Alternating with playful nips and naughty tugs to your nipples whenever your grip on them falters from the overwhelming pleasure.

So attentive and eager, soon you're writhing beneath him as you hit your peak. One hand grips your hip tightly, surely to leave a bruise with the way it cramps. His other doesn't let up, well-oiled mechanisms continuing to pump in and out of your trembling pussy until you whine from the overstimulation.

His wings fold protectively around both of you like a canopy as you share a tender kiss. Dazed and happy, you tenderly brush back black bangs and play with one of the feathers that's sprouted near the hairline above his ear. He shivers.

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

"That's the least of my concerns right now."

"I can still…"

"Later. First, I want to help you."

Suddenly, Seokmin's shy again, flushed cheeks darkening. "I… I think I'm a little different… down there so it's okay if you don't want to… or get scared."

"It's not like I've seen enough dicks to compare whether what you're packing is normal."

The both of you share a goofy laugh that eases the presumed awkwardness. He sits back to unbutton his pants but you stop him.

"May I?"

You might as well have knocked the air out of his lungs. He stares at you wide-eyed and then emphatically nods, finally clearing his throat to squeak out, "Sure."

Ignoring the aftershocks of your earlier orgasm, you sit up and kneel in front of him. Intent on a few minor distractions, your mouth and hands start at his shoulders to work their way down. Imagining you have the power to heal the damage dealt to his body and soul through tender touches.

You see a sad sense of beauty and justice in the patchwork of metal bolts and bark. And as you apply marks of love that bruise and blossom between them, he lets out a content warble. You're quick to undo the button of his pants, both of you gasping at the utterly wet mess seeping through the material when you tug the zipper down with your teeth.

He lifts his hips to help and once he's just as naked as you do you take him in. Anatomy was meagerly touched upon during your days at the convent, so truthfully all you're aware of at the sight of his heavy cock is the need to be filled with it.

And the closest thing to take him is your mouth, jaw already aching before you even open it. Almost reverently, your hands wrap around to stabilize it. Seokmin hisses pleasantly at the contact.

"You don't have to —"

He's cut off by a groan as you inquisitively suckle the tip. The copious amounts of slick smearing from it and down the base taste sweeter than Seungcheol's lollipops and you moan heartily, causing his thighs beneath your elbows to tense at the vibrations.

"Oh, mayfly."

A wing caresses your cheek that bulges as you take more and more of him, Seokmin's hands tearing at the sheets. The tip of another wing tantalizingly drags down your bare back. Your hands begin to explore, finding the puffy edges around the slit from which the thick cock emerges from. His hips jolt upwards at the contact to sensitive tissues, causing you to gag.

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

While he whispers repeated apologies, you're only compelled to take him further. Slowly you get used to the stretch, but no matter how much more you're able to squeeze down your throat there's still enough of his length for both of your hands to play with. It gets easier the more aggressive you get, his cock seeming to respond to your vigor in tandem. Soon you're lost to the haze of whether you're bobbing your head up and down or it's swirling languidly in your mouth on its own accord.

Seokmin's hips stutter but you feel the tremor first pulse against the inner walls of your throat. His cock throbs as you pull off of it, hollowing your cheeks and parting with deliberately powerful suction. A loud pop releases its tip and your hand supports its weighty girth falling forward. You dig the nails of your free hand into the muscle of his quaking thigh, ducking down to teethe at the puffy slit from where his cock must emerge.

Moving on to licking and dragging the point of your tongue along the sizable vein lining the underside causes Seokmin's low groans to turn into a high-pitched trill. Once you reach the swollen, leaking head and nibble on the hard glans, it spasms wildly and finally erupts. From the top slit seeps sweet syrupy fluid that readily overflows into your awaiting, open mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he blabbers.

You'd reply that there's no need for gratitude, perhaps you'd thank him, but the viscous release keeps spilling out. Rivulets trickle well past your lips and coat your chest. Although still in a euphoric daze, his eyes flash with sharp satisfaction. Instantly possessive at the sight of your bare body decorated so erotically.

His wings snap open — filled with purpose — and your face is pressed down into the mattress. Surrounded in a smoky musk as the angelic monstrosity it belongs to and destined to be your mate hovers above.

Your voice comes out hoarse as you raise up onto your elbows and spitefully spit out a black feather. "Do those wings of yours prevent you from being topped or something?"

"I'll let you find out another time, partner," Seokmin huffs, laughter evident despite his apparent breathlessness. He steals a tender kiss, pleased grunting at how your lips — shiny and swollen — taste of him. "But for now…"

Like an anchor, the tech material warmed by your shared body heat and passion winds underneath your hips, keeping them raised. A calloused, ticklish touch roams traces your spine. He draws an occasional spiral here and there as he goes, mindful of your wound, until firmly pinning the nape of your neck to the side, creating the perfect arch of your back.

"I think you'll like this," Seokmin says as if he isn't liking the view below him.

But for you, straight ahead lies the dresser's mirror. It reflects the full manifestation of an independent Plant poised to devour a human in the most intimate sense. The fearsome size of his cock lies heavy on top of your ass, leaking droplets of arousal all over your backside.

"Will it fit?"

"Of course, you are mine to claim and take." His hips just forward and you both moan. "I think we're both wet enough to try."

"I trust you."

"Let me know if it hurts in any way and we'll stop right away, mayfly."

Many troupes of desert-traveling dancers have mesmerized you before. Yet even they can't compare to the graceful and smooth motion of Seokmin releasing your neck to align his tip with the entrance of your cunt and slowly bullying his way in.

Tears of pain mixing to unfathomable pleasure blur the vision of your mouth widening to let out whines and moans. "Seokkie…"

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

Finally, the front of his thighs are flush against yours. Hips pressed tight against your ass. Fully sheathed inside your tight hole, neither of you have ever felt such intensity before. He surrenders his body weight on top of yours, hands braced outside of yours clenching loose feathers and silk sheets. The outer heaviness matches the intensity of what your pussy struggles to accommodate.

"Mine."

Seokmin's hips swirl at a slow pace. Rather than thrust, he massages the sensitive glands at the base of his cock with the soft flesh of your ass. His length seems to shrink and grow and writhe with a mind of its own, filling and teasing you nonstop. Leaving no surface of your inner walls untouched or untended to for too long.

"Yours."

You shudder in blissed-out delirium and Seokmin lights up — literally.

Fluorescent lines glow in distinct patterns across skin, brightening the more he starts to pant and build up your shared pleasure. Sharp canines prick into the skin of your unmarked shoulder as he wraps his prosthesis under your stomach to raise your hips, the new position driving you faster to that rapidly approaching edge. You cry out with a lurch, blurrily making out his glowing form that shudders above.

Though the view in the mirror gets hidden by black wings stroking your entire body. Teasing the underside of your tits and tenderly brushing away the stings of his teeth marks.

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

"Love…" You manage to enunciate the words, mind emptying and drool wetting the bed as your second peak approaches. "Love you too."

Pain and pleasure draw forth an onslaught of your apparent arousal that lecherously mixes with the frothy mess dribbling from his cock. Claws appear on Seokmin's right hand, another addition to the bestial Plant features emerging in the throes of passion. He's not completely lost to the primal thrall though, able to resist from breaking skin.

Delicately scratching your waist without drawing blood, then using the finely pointed tips to pluck and tease effortlessly at your clit. You cry out, body shaking as waves of euphoria crash against the shoreline of imminent pleasure.

Seokmin helps ride out your peak with a couple of speedy thrusts. The feeling of his hips slamming into you has you seeing more stars than Gunsmoke's galaxy contains. And just as you're overcome with too much stimulation, he lets go with a particularly strong bite into the top of your shoulder.

His cock softens and its heavy weight like a blanket along with the continual pump of his warm, soothing release. The feeling of it leaving none of your inner walls untouched feels as sweet as it tasted on your tongue and helps ease the ache inside your cunt. Still joined together and slick with stickiness, he collapses onto his side and gently assists you with rolling over so you can face him.

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

Your nose wrinkles but gets smoothed out by feather tips playing with the ends of your hair. Seokmin smiles as you snuggle closer into his chest so two of his wings can cocoon around you as the heated fervor from prior activities cools.

"Did that help?"

"… Yes," he says though his tone wavers with hesitance.

You raise your chin and see the electric blue luster hasn't faded yet from his gaze. Sheepishly, the corner of his mouth raises and you shiver, feeling the swell of his cock stretch out your pussy. The bulge it creates brushes against Seokmin's abdomen and he twitches.

"Sorry, it's… I'm gonna be kinda insatiable now that I've had a taste…" He trails off, wings snapping behind him. Slowly, he pulls his hips away and you both hiss as his cock is dragged out.

"What are you —"

You're cut off by the animalistic glimmer in his gaze, catching the feral smirk that he attempts to hide by licking his palm. Quick as lightning, Seokmin fleetingly swipes the outer lips of your cunt and brings his fingers, tonguing at them. Body set aflame again, neither of your break eye contact as he moans headily.

"But not of this," he rasps.

Before you know it, you're staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stickers on his ceiling with your mate between your legs. His wings trail along your calves, their flexible ends curling near your inner thighs, encouraging them to spread and stay open, pinning them in place.

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

He moans shamelessly at the sight of your messy, glistening pussy. You squirm at the ticklish sensation of his feathers and that smoldering, ravenous look. If only he knew what it was like to see him devour you with his mouth.

Delicious.

Just like the feeling of his tongue working its way inside and licking up the shared essence of your releases.

Your fingers weave between strands of hair as black as night, tugging lightly and accidentally snagging one of his ear feathers. He moans eagerly, and the vibration has you shuddering, already quickly nearing another mind-shattering orgasm. But you don't let him carry you there too fast, smooth brain muscles trying to form a question.

"How… long… how long do these cycles last?"

Seokmin presses a loving kiss to your twitching clit and blows, entranced by how you clench around nothing. Then he smirks, elongated teeth shining in the darkness like a predatory warning though you have nothing to fear.

"As much as you can handle but… we're really only just getting started, mayfly."

The motion light kicks on as Seungcheol shifts his boots in the direction of the unlit kitchen area. Junhui and Minghao's entrance awaken the rest of the lights and they frown at the makeshift bunker set up.

"What are you three doing in here?"

Seungkwan sleepily mumbles a curse word and next to him, Mingyu blearily rubs his eyes. A scattering of empty pudding cups and bottles lie around them as well as a disorganized array of poker cards.

"We're afraid to venture out of here."

Junhui shares a secretive look with his closest friend at Seungkwan's cryptic words. "Ah, so that's happened. Or happening."

"'Bout time y'all came 'round. Time for ya to pay up!"

"Pay up for what?"

"Compensation. 'M the one who got the closest to bein' right knowin' they'd fuck after confessin'."

"If anyone needs compensation, it's me for the mental damage of having to make one of my lovelies into an enhanced sex toy."

Seungcheol guffaws. "Ya didn't! Ya lil cheatin', schemin' scientist!"

Meanwhile, Mingyu looks mighty concerned. "Does that mean Seokmin has a dildo for an arm?!"

Minghao crosses his arms with a steely glare. "No."

"Oh good. I don't think I could look at him the same."

"I don't think any of us will ever look at him the same again."

Junhui eagerly rocks back and forth on his heels, hands stuffed in the deep pockets of his lab coat. "Do you think they discovered all the functions and benefits of it yet?"

"Should be our next bettin' round."

"No more bets. I don't care if it's half a double dollar to go in, I refuse to go through this again."

Mingyu elbows his raven-haired companion. "C'mon, your heart's warmed by this!"

"Warmed and consumed by the rage and fury of hellfire, yes."

Giggling, the tall man smiles widely and holds his hand out. "Alright, I win then!"

"Win what? Thought you didn't remember your bet."

Mingyu purses his lips. "Only because none of you took me seriously and joked with a bunch of gross innuendos when I said they'd find their home in one another!" He then sighs dreamily. "But if I'm right, we'll know by tomorrow morning."

"Who says it'll be tomorrow mornin'. Might take weeks. Months even, I reckon'."

"I'll kick you all out before it comes to that," Minghao threatens and runs a hand through the few strands of hair without a bead. He tosses a wad of money in front of Mingyu. "Never involve me in this again."

Despite all the grumbling, everyone has a sense of lightness in their hearts at the thought of their dear friends finally getting together. And the happiest of them all is Mingyu, who cheerily gathers his prized double dollars, dreaming of all the pudding he can buy.

A lone figure stands on the edge of the valley of the Melca Border. The Sea of Sand, aptly named, can change tide and turn vicious at any second. Their cloak billows in the sandy winds that whip around them, though even the steadfast hood can't hide the satisfied smile on their face.

"You did well," they commend and the name that falls from their lips is one some might consider lost to the sands of time.

"Saintess." Another figure materializes out of the sand gusts in response to the praise. "It is to be done as you said."

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

Whether it's the mysterious sands that swirl around and whisk them away or the lost technology cube that transports them, no one will ever know for no one ever saw them. Like ghosts, they disappear and find themselves outside the real ghost town — where it all began.

A toma croaks in the distance. Brave travelers dare cross the ruined wasteland and the saintess meditating atop one of the largest rocks hidden in the shadows opens her gray eyes tinted by lilac in the glow of the moons to observe. Despite all of her traveling, the white robes wrapped around her body remain in pristine condition.

She turns behind to look at the man standing over a scattering of stones, staring intently at one of them. With poise and purpose, she dusts off her clothes and strides over to him.

"Chan."

Brown eyes tear away from his own name carved into the headstone in front of him to look at the one who's said it aloud.

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

"Good," she states, satisfied with his response. With a grand sweep of her hood to cover short, dark hair, she gestures to the east. "We will set up camp one more night before returning to the Saint in the morning before he speaks with our Master."

Chan mutely nods, following the saintess back into the desert where she confidently leads him to a cave that will shield them from the unpredictable nature of Gunsmoke's wastelands. He thinks of you, the girl he must keep safe and two brothers. One with wings as pure white despite his continual revelry with hate-filled darkness, the other bearing ones the complete opposite color of his twin — a wild card.

He reminisces over the Blessed and Holy Sisterhood of Little Ivywood, the convent and all the orphans that lived there. Pondering Sister Meryl's role, who stands before him now as the revered Saintess, leader for the Eye of Joshua and second only to the Bishop of the cult named after himself. She moves curious little statues back and forth across the surface of a large flat rock and the young man can't help but ask her a question in the unnerving silence.

"Do you think this will work?"

Meryl smiles elusively, as always. She picks up the smallest one with a deliberate flourish, placing it on a blackened space close to the last row of alternating squares carved into the stone's surface.

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

"An Earthern board game. It is quite complicated." Gesturing to the piece she just moved, she continues. "This is a pawn, the weakest of all chess pieces."

Chan bristles. "But strength comes in numbers, no? There are eight of each color, surely the right side can find a way to win."

Unfazed by his agitation, the saintess nods placatingly. "With the right strategy, even a pawn may become a queen — the most powerful. Unpredictable." She points to a white figurine with a cross on top of it. "Enough to checkmate a king."

Entranced, Chan watches as she rearranges and repositions various pieces across the faux chessboard. Soon, the pawn that took on the mantle of a Black Queen captures the White King. His eyes roam what's left on the battlefield at the end of the match, pointing to one that looks like a tower.

"What's that one?"

"A rook. It best supports an allied pawn towards promotion from behind the scenes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously. "It's most powerful during the end of the game, as you can see."

Chan gulps, holding his breath for a moment, and clears his throat. "Then I'm ready."

"Wonderful," Meryl nods, "we'll depart for Master Dokyeom's stronghold in the morning. I'm sure Joshua, our dear Saint, will be… pleased upon our return."

"To the glory of the Black King's rise."

"And to the glory of our so-called queen."

Keep him safe, Chan thinks to himself as he settles on the ground. And yourself. One day we'll reunite in the most joyous of occasions…

He pulls out a faded wanted poster with the infamous outlaw worth sixty billion double dollars, donning a wishful smile before closing his eyes and murmuring, "I'd even bet this impossible amount on it."

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

#ez.creates #svthub #svt.smut #dokyeom smut #dk smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #kpop smut #trigun au #svt au #seventeen au

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oneatlatime · 5 months

Text

The Journey to Ba Sing Se Part 2: The Drill

Could I have Appa back please?

The Previously On segment actually didn't spoil anything for once. Nice.

I do like these tank things. In fact I like all Fire Nation technology. Not what it's used for. But the designs are neat. And more interesting than most actual military tech. You ever look at something techy, and think to yourself 'there was an artist involved here,' because that's the impression FN tech gives me. It's not beautiful, but there's a pleasing toothiness to it.

Excellent sound design on the metal screechy moving bits. And is that tank escort really necessary?

I know this is a kids' cartoon, with characters that are designed to be the audience's age. I know! And usually I can suspend my disbelief and forget that I'm watching children do very adult jobs! But this caught me so off guard I laughed. The Fire Nation's big secret project to break through the wall once and for all, that would be an absolute career making achievement for whoever is in charge, and they've given it to a bunch of teenage girls. This is where my suspension of disbelief stops.

Can you imagine the meeting where this was proposed? The Fire Lord being like "Who can lead the attack on Ba Sing Se? We lost Zhao at the North Pole, does whoever it is who occupies his equivalent rank in the Army want the job? Or even Zhao's second in command perhaps? Or how about: three middle school girls, two of which aren't even members of the military? Doesn't that sound like a good plan?" And of course all his advisors have to agree and be like "that sounds like an excellent plan your lordship; did you have any particular girls in mind or should we go scout out the local Claire's?" because the last guy who disagreed with him got his face blown off. I don't care how viciously talented Azula and friends are; a country that puts eighth graders in charge of invasion plans should have lost the war in year one, not still be winning it in year 99.

Did that random commander guy just smack Ty Lee in the face?

Problem the first of this plan: unless the Fire Nation has invented pocket dimensions or bags of holding, there is no way that that drill, even stuffed full of soldiers, would hold enough people to take a city that seemingly contains every single refugee in the entire Earth Kingdom.

Do you think those refugees got preferential treatment for arriving on an Avatar powered elevator?

"I'm the Avatar. Take me to whoever's in charge." OWN IT BABY!!!

That's one hell of an irrigation system they must have.

"He was quickly expunged." Was he? I got the impression he quit. Of his own accord.

Something tells me like forty guys throwing rocks won't stop that thing.

So... what was Mai doing that whole fight? Hanging decoratively off a rope?

I'd forgotten how stupid Earth Kingdom generals were. Luckily Sokka is there to vicariously express my opinion of them. A reverse beat up Sokka quota fulfillment!

Toph is such a little shit and I love her.

Aang sure does put up with a lot sometimes. Part of being the Avatar. It's a good thing he has such patience. Can we talk about how lucky the world is that Aang is the one tasked with putting up with nonsense like this? Imagine if Sokka or Toph were the Avatar. There would be casualties.

I like complaining too buddy. Nice to see Sokka's worth being recognised. Now can we do that outside of a life or death situation too please?

I joke about Zuko's dumbass behaviour, but let's be honest, it's inherited.

Jet. Fuckboy. You do not make it easy to even slightly like you. Guy is missing the point as much as Zuko usually does. Going straight MEANS leaving the freedom fighters behind. It doesn't mean reforming them somewhere else. And what Fire Nation threat are you going to find in Ba Sing Se for your Freedom Fighters to fight? You know, if this idiot was actually serious about fighting for Freedom rather than blowing stuff up for fun, he'd fudge his age and enlist in the Earth Kingdom Army.

Four points: How does Katara know Ty Lee's name? Is this confirmation that waterbending healing cannot remove a Chi block? I love that the trait that gives away Ty Lee's identity is the fact that she cartwheeled away. I love Sokka. Just in general.

There is no way this girl is not tripping.

Can you imagine how loud standing right next to that drill must be?

ABS

Normally I'd say that one earthbender trying to slow the drill down with spikes will work even worse than the Terra Team who tried and failed with like 40, but this is Toph we're talking about. It could work.

These children are so polite when they're committing industrial sabotage. Truly, they were raised well.

Do you ever get the feeling that whoever is in charge of designing Fire Nation armour is into a few things that he's trying to repress so hard that they're coming out in all the wrong places?

Jet seems to have lost all the manipulative abilities he had in his episode. Suddenly he's very bad at reading body language and keeps saying the exact opposite of what he should.

New achievement unlocked! 1000% agreeing with something Zuko said! That was a pretty stupid move.

Cups made out of leaves are neat.

Katara, you can't have it both ways. You can't look to Sokka to make the plan, then get snippy when the plan correctly plays to all of your strengths. He physically CAN'T bend. Either you come up with a better plan yourself, or you do as the guy you appointed planner suggests.

Points in favour of allowing Katara to murder people, exhibit 1.

Confirmed: Sokka is catnip for girls.

Even in comparison to the others, Ty Lee has a bad case of cartoon physics.

Did Katara just disarm herself? That'll come back to bite her in 3, 2, 1...

Mai gets a second personality trait! Yay!

There is no way this is actually practical armour. This is someone in procurement with a thing for sweaty bulging muscles and puppy masks.

And thus, the log ride was born. Later versions would go on to perfect the concept by introducing a log.

I felt Sokka's mud freakout in my bones. Looks like Katara giving away her water isn't going to be a problem.

Petition to let Katara say bitch. The voice actress said Circus Freak but I know what I heard in my heart.

Remember that time Sokka smacked his forehead so many times that his face was permanently red? My turn now.

Aang. I know you love your friends. But maybe a battle on top of a moving machine of destruction in the midst of an aerial assault from your idiotic allies while facing off with the single most powerful and amoral firebender in existence, isn't a place to bring your pet lemur?

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by little sister. It's surprising that isn't the case more often. I know Sokka took it too far, but if you don't want him telling you what to do, maybe you shouldn't have looked to him for a plan?

Toph is here! Day saved.

Finally some sense re: Momo safety.

Time for the Western showdown. There's even something that could stand in for a water tower in the background.

If Azula had just struck at Aang the second he got knocked unconscious, rather than waiting until he woke up for dramatic purposes, she would have won this. I give Zuko Hell for being a theatre kid, but he's not the only one in the family.

I would love to know what they make Fire Nation boot soles out of. They have supernatural traction.

I take back everything I said about pet safety. That was a really cool Momo assist.

Aang invents the pneumatic hammer.

I LOVE that the cut braces had an effect after all. Sokka's contribution counts!

I bet this guy's wishing he'd been eaten by a giant fishman like Zhao right about now. Have fun explaining that one to the Firelord!

HOW is Ty Lee still alive?

HOW does Azula still have knees after that drop?

HOW does Mai have such perfect timing?

ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN ROCK TRAIN

They really ought to put wheels on all but the back car to reduce friction and save energy. Then again, if the Earth Kingdom is one thing, it's stupid.

So... Jet's change of heart lasted a bit less than one episode. Good job fuckboy!

So precious.

So Pretty.

Final Thoughts

This was like 90% action, with the other 10% being split between Zuko & Iroh plot stuff and Sokka playing comic relief. So there's not that much to talk about here really (she says, having found a whole post's worth of stuff to talk about).

Sokka had his bossy pants on, admittedly because he was asked to don them. Aang got to do some proper Avataring. Katara and Toph got to exercise their bending muscles. I'm not surprised that Toph was absent for much of the middle of the episode, because - let's be honest - given the right tools, Toph would have finished the Drill in one move. And then they'd be out of episode.

Actually, Mai got to have a personality beyond Too Bored To Live this episode. This is probably the most personality I've seen out of her so far. She's much more expressive when she's with just Ty Lee, rather than Ty Lee and Azula.

And Zuko! Had! Common! Sense! Iroh had to be a dumbass for Zuko to shine, but Zuko was, once again, the most reasonable character in his little B plot. For future reference: If you want to make Zuko reasonable, all you have to do is nerf his uncle and juxtapose him with a terrorist.

I loathe Jet. Always have, probably always will. But I'm still disappointed in him. His 'turning over a new leaf' - if it was sincere at all - lasted like 10 on-screen minutes. I feel sorry for Smellerbee and Longshot. I don't think their faith in their glorious leader is going to be repaid. He seems to brush off Smellerbee's opinions.

The strangest thing this episode was how few lines Azula had. I guess maybe they were using silence to try to show how calculating and collected she is compared to others, but honestly my first thought was that the voice actress had something going on. A cold? A previous engagement? It felt really weird to hear her speak so little, since previous episodes have shown she's not averse to gloating and dramatic monologues. She didn't even have much in the way of facial expressions.

I think the winners this episode were Mai, who got to have a personality; Zuko, who got a turn with the brain cell; and Aang, who got to work out pretty much all the bending he knows so far and successfully Avatar.

I did notice with some of the shots of Aang moving the big boulders the idiots were chucking down, that there was a kind of fuzziness to the air between Aang and what he was moving. Was I seeing the actual bending energy (Chi I guess) moving?

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #the drill

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zaimta · 2 years

Note

Hey hey hey!!! Saw your request is open and you write for OP!! I want to request headcanons for Law, Kid, & Zoro (separately) with GN!S/O. Well, S/O introduces him as "friend" not "boyfriend" on accident and doesn't realize about it. Thanksss!!!

a/n- yes i love this, also i think law’s is longer than the others but we’re gonna ignore that <33

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────»

˗ˏˋTRAFALGAR LAW

petty and sarcastic™️

“oh and this is my friend law!”

“friend” the word echoed in his mind a friend huh, to outsiders he looked calm and collected unaffected by your slip of the tongue. but to him? it was something completely different he couldn’t say he was mad but he certainly wasn’t thrilled at the title either.

he nodded at your friends who you were paying a quick visit “we should head out pal, the crew is waiting for us.”

your jaw dropped while he looked at you as stoic as ever. pal he said…pal?? what happened to the occasional nickname, sweet pet names, hell even your name would have done the job but pal?

the two of you walked back to the ship in silence until you spoke up, law would normally be the one to put an end to petty disputes between the two of you but since he started this one it’s up to you “so…‘pal’ huh really. what was all that about.”

“you introduced me as a ‘friend’” he made air quotation marks as he continued to walk in front of you “so i did the same.”

you laughed a bit and sighed, you never meant to introduce him like that it was just a simple slip of the tongue. you were so excited to see your friends you couldn’t even get your words straight “it was an accident law, i was just talking too fast. i’m yours and your mine and nothing is going to change that.”

he stopped in his tracks which allowed you to stand by his side, once you were close enough he took your hand in his and started walking towards the sub “yea well the crew is still waiting for us let’s get back.”

as he was practically dragging you along and you swore you saw the faintest smile on his face.

˗ˏˋRORONOA ZORO

corrects you immediately, probably the only one who realizes it was an accident

“this is my friend zoro!”

he looked at you from the corner of his eye and bumped you slightly, the two of you haven’t been going out long and started as friends so naturally, it was just a slip of the tongue.

you looked at him with a raised brow and then gasped quickly realizing your mistake “oh i mean boyfriend, sorry this relationship thing is still new to me!” you smiled at the island locals who were kind enough to give you and zoro directions before heading off.

as the two of you walked and followed the instructions you were given you elbowed him with a small grin on your face “i didn’t know you cared about the label that much zoro.”

he continued walking as if he wasn’t paying you any mind “i don’t just letting people know you’re taken.” he smirked slightly and walked alongside you to your destination.

˗ˏˋEUSTASS ‘CAPTAIN’ KID

an actual dumbass like come on

“and this is my friend kid!”

he started ahead blankly “friend??” the word echoed in his head. if the two of you were friends according to you was he just wasting his time? no you were wasting his time.

he opened his mouth to retaliate but was cut off by killer who chimed in realizing the mix-up wasn’t intentional “he’s your boyfriend remember y/n.”

you blinked at killer then made an ‘o’ shape with your lips from slight shock, you turned to kid and smiled at him softly before turning back to the bartender to correct yourself “i meant boyfriend sorry.”

the bartender chuckled at the three of you, especially kid whose jaw was still hanging open because he didn’t get a single word in. he could tell that he cared for you he was a keeper, and vice versa.

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 7 months

Text

u can never have too many au ideas (aka the cursed-sun/moon au)

(im copy n pasting this from discord bc im lazy sorry y'all fsjhf)

other au idea: Sun is a ruler or lord in a fantasy world or smthn and Moon is the form he's been Cursed into turning into each night. Reader is a low-tier magic-weilder (who has a secret past that involves smthn rlly Bad and they used to have a reasonable amount of respectability in th community but now theyre shunned and cant get a job anywhere and also has a big scar and/or only one eye lol) who's one remaining ability is the ability to lift minor curses or plagues. Sun has been searching for someone who can 'bless' the curse of Moon (or whatever is making Moon be nasty murderous bloodthirsty man) for ages but mages r rare and most of them spend maybe one night trying to cure Moon before either getting got or being scared into getting tf outta there

so eventually word reaches Sun of a mage who's been looking for work, with the only catch being that they arent very powerful and no one has much to say abt them, and Sun, who has burnt every single thread he has trying to find a mage, is like GOOD ENOUGH CALL THEM HERE

and reader is like 'oh shit this is potentially a rlly good job, the only catch is that i have to deal w a demon possessed guy thats like twice my height and three times as strong,,' and like. bc they have Zero Options and also feel like their life has run itself into th ground and there is little left for them/no way to get themselves out of their Issues, they r like 'yeah sure its gonna take a while bc i can only perform minor magic but i'll do whatever i can to see that this curse is delt with'

and instead of trying to face Moon head on, they start with just kinda,, getting to know him. he's kept chained/locked away in a chamber every night to keep ppl safe, but every night reader goes into the chambers, sits at a tea table just out of his reach, and just. talks with him

they dont entertain his trying to mess w them, taunting, cruelty, etc, but they talk when there's the chance for standard conversation. at first it's hell bc Moon is a little shit and he never cooperates. he never answers questions, he spends the entire night threatening to tear them apart and savor their insides, etc. they bring him a cup of tea every night, and every time he smashes the cup and throws the pieces at them

ok well point is eventually Moon starts to mellow out around them, will actually sit and have conversation with them, one day is like 'you think i dont know what youre doing?? youre just trying to bore me into falling for ur trap so u can kill me. i like ur style but its not gonna work >:3'

and reader is like 'i literally do not have enough magic to kill a toad let alone a whole entire possessed person' and moon is like ',, huh. so what IS ur goal here??' and reader is like 'i want to lift ur curse for both u and Sun's sakes. i gave u my word, and i will follow through, at the very least to clear my own conscience of a past sin'

and so eventually Moon, out of curiosity, and later bc he likes spending time with reader, starts letting them cast the healing magic on him, breaking the curse little by little every night

and at the same time all this is happening, reader is spending mornings and evenings with Sun and keeping him up to date on how the process is going and, eventually, becoming the person he turns to when he's stressed or tired or rlly just wants company

and idk smthn smthn eventually both of them rlly want Reader and they dont know how to act so they just b making fools of themselves but reader is a dumbass so theyre just confused

(Moon absolutely tells Reader abt every 'oh man i rlly wanna kiss kiss snuggle smooch the mage rn' thought Sun has during the day but Reader is so used to Moon being a little shit n making shit up to mess with them that they r just like ._. )

the plot twist part,,

(the secret dark past that reader is hiding is that they used to be a local mage for a nearby town who was known and respected for giving 'blessings' to ppl for small fees but one day for Reasons, they cast a curse upon someone and one of the biggest no-no's a mage can do is Curse someone so the town practically rioted, tore them down from their pedestal, called upon another mage to strip reader of their magic, and then cast them out)

(rn im considering the idea that the person reader Cursed is Vanny, who, because of her own curse, eventually went on to be the one who cursed Sun and Moon)

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belovedspector · 2 months

Text

Double Jeopardy!

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary: You met Joel at trivia night at a local bar. While watching old Jeopardy! reruns together, you realize Joel bears a striking resemblance to a certain game show host.

Content: No outbreak/modern AU. Fluff, use of pet names (darlin’), slightly insecure Joel

A/N: Just a silly little fic based on this silly little post I made. This got a little out of hand (it was literally just supposed to be one scene), but I had fun with it! Enjoy! :)

Masterlist

It’s been a hell of a week, and it’s only Tuesday. After a disastrous work day full of dumbasses and delays, Tommy insists on going to the bar, and it doesn’t take much convincing at all before Joel agrees.

The bar is crowded for the middle of the week, Joel thinks. Groups of people are gathered around nearly all the tables, and the stage is illuminated.

“Music tonight?” Joel asks the bartender after flagging her down.

“Trivia night,” she says, handing Joel and Tommy their beers.

The brothers manage to snag two bar stools next to one another, chatty idly about everything other than work.

After a few minutes, a man gets up on stage, and the game begins.

Joel has never been much for trivia. He’s not dumb by any means, but he’s also not one of those people who can name all the presidents in alphabetical order, or whatever. Still, he finds himself captivated by the game before him, watching just as intently as he would any football game.

You draw his attention early on, even from across the room. You’re the spokesperson for your team, and Joel can tell you know your stuff. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re easy on the eyes, even in your simple t-shirt and jeans. As Joel watches the game unfold, he can’t help but silently root for your team, and he’s pleased to see you and your teammates take home the (plastic) trophy.

You’re beaming as you head over to the bar for a refill, serendipitously ending up on Joel’s end of the bar.

Tommy elbows Joel in the ribs. Joel glares at him, but Tommy just gives him a look and gets up from his stool, wandering away to God knows where.

Joel clears his throat after you’ve ordered your drink. “You’re awful good at that,” he compliments.

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, and you smile despite yourself. “I watch a lot of Jeopardy!” you say by way of explanation.

Joel considers this. He hasn’t thought about that show in years, didn’t even know it was still airing. “That Trebek guy still hosting?”

“Oh, no.” You shake your head with a slight frown. “He died, like, three years ago.”

You look almost sad about it, Joel thinks. He almost wants to apologize for your loss, but realizes how ridiculous that would sound. Instead, he asks, “Who’s hosting now, then?”

“Ken Jennings,” you answer, perking up again.

“Ken Jennings,” Joel repeats. “That sounds familiar.”

“Yeah, he had a seventy-four game winning streak in”—your eyes turn up towards the ceiling in thought and you scrunch your nose up in a way that Joel thinks is adorable—”2003, I think?”

“Ah, must’a heard about it on the news back then,” he says with a nod.

You nod alongside him. “Yeah, he does a really good job.” You pause to take a sip of your drink. “God, and don’t even get me started on the hosting debacle that happened after Alex’ death.”

Joel has no idea what you’re talking about, but he chuckles anyway. It’s been a while since he’s talked to anyone like this. Is this what flirting is like nowadays? Well, he supposes, it’s working on him—you’ve got him completely enamored with you and your little game show facts.

You and Joel end up closing down the bar together. It’s just the two of you and one slightly disgruntled bartender who has been dutifully cleaning all the tables around you. To be perfectly honest, Joel has no idea when Tommy had gone home; he’s been so wrapped up in you the whole night. Tommy will definitely give him shit about it the next time he sees him.

You had, in fact, gotten started on the Jeopardy! hosting drama at some point. There are a lot of names thrown around that Joel doesn’t recognize, but you’re so damn enthusiastic that he doesn’t have the heart to stop you.

Eventually, the discussion turns away from game shows. You talk to each other about everything and nothing, the conversation flowing as freely as the drinks.

All good things must come to an end, though.

“Alright, I’ve gotta close up now,” the bartender announces.

After a playful squabble over who will pay the tab (which Joel ends up covering), you reluctantly make your way out of the bar, the neon “open” sign going dark behind you.

Joel, being the gentleman that he is, offers to walk you home. You pick up right where you had left off at the bar, but, all too soon, you’ve reached your place.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you say with a smile, twirling your keys around your index finger.

“Yeah, me, too,” Joel agrees. “I don’t want to be too forward, and there’s no obligation, but is there any chance I can get your number?”

You beam at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Gimme your phone.”

Joel complies and watches as you add in your contact info and send a text to yourself.

He returns his phone to his pocket and says, “I might be pushing my luck here, but any chance you’d wanna go out to dinner one night?”

You smile again and nod enthusiastically. “I’d love that.”

“Alright,” Joel says, smiling back. “I’ll be in touch.”

He’s feeling bold. The alcohol is still coursing through his veins, giving him the push he needs to lean forward and kiss you on the cheek. He hopes he’s not imagining the way he feels your skin warm under his lips.

You giggle—an honest-to-God giggle. You’re going to be the death of him. “Good night, Joel,” you say.

“Good night, darlin’,” he returns, making sure you’re safely inside before heading back home, grinning like an idiot the whole way.

You go out to dinner that Friday.

“I’m missing Jeopardy! over this, you know,” you tell him while you scan the menu.

“Well, I’m honored,” Joel says with a laugh.

“I think it’ll be worth it,” you say with a broad smile.

Friday dinners become your thing. You usually meet at a restaurant, but, a few weeks in, Joel has an idea: he invites you over for takeout and Jeopardy! You seem thrilled at the prospect.

And so, he finds himself sitting next to you on the couch, a pizza box open on the coffee table in front of you. He’s got the TV tuned in to the right station, and it’s just a matter of minutes before the show will begin.

Just like on that trivia night, Joel finds himself totally wrapped up in the fast-paced game. He quickly learns that you like to shout out the answers, and he joins in when he can. It’s the most fun he’s had in a long time.

All too soon, it seems, half an hour has gone by, and the credits are rolling. Joel clicks the power button on the remote. The TV screen goes dark, and the living room falls silent.

“So?” you prompt. “What do you think of Ken?”

“Jennings ain’t bad,” Joel admits, “but he’s no Alex Trebek, that’s for sure.”

That Tuesday, you invite Joel to trivia night. You fall into an easy routine: trivia on Tuesdays, Jeopardy! on Fridays, date nights every other weekend. For the first time in a long time, Joel feels content.

“They have old episodes that you can stream, you know,” you say one night after the show ends.

It’s been a couple of months, and things are going quite well, if Joel does say so himself. You’ve met Tommy and Sarah, and they’ve both given their stamp of approval.

“That so?” Joel asks, tightening the arm he has around your shoulder.

“Yeah. I can set it up, if you’re not all Jeopardy!’d out for the night.”

“Pfft, never,” he says.

You grin, grabbing the remote and navigating to Pluto, picking an episode at random. A younger, mustachioed Alex Trebek fills the screen.

As the episode plays, you’re still answering clues like normal, but you also keep sneaking glances at Joel throughout the game.

Finally, during the Double Jeopardy round, he pauses the show. “Okay, what is it?”

“What do you mean?” you ask a little sheepishly.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” He runs a hand across the scruff on his cheek. “Do I have something on my face?”

You laugh. “No, nothing like that. It’s just…” You hesitate.

“Yeah?” he urges.

You cut your eyes between Alex on screen and Joel on the couch. “You look kinda like Alex Trebek,” you blurt out.

Joel is stunned into silence for a moment. He studies the man on the TV, with his graying hair and mustache. He’s not a bad looking man, but—

“Are you sure?” he asks. He feels almost shy all of a sudden. He knows he’s getting older; his hair is more gray than brown, and the lines on his face have gotten deeper. But, still, does that mean he’s old? Getting compared to an old, now-dead game show host has brought all of his anxieties about aging to the front of his mind.

You nod. “Positive,” you say, pulling him out of his thoughts before they can spiral any further. You grin. “I’ve always had a thing for him, you know.”

“W—Who?” Joel stutters, not sure he’s heard you right.

“Alex Trebek,” you clarify, your grin widening.

Joel hums. “That so, darlin’?” he asks mildly, but he’s not quite able to keep the smirk off his face. “What do you think—should I get rid of the beard, just keep the mustache?”

You slap his shoulder lightly. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have told you that.”

He breaks out into a wide grin and leans in to steal a kiss. “You know I’m kidding, darlin’.” He looks to the TV screen again, and then he turns back to you, eyes softening. “I could do a lot worse than Trebek, I s’pose.”

“It’s a compliment!” you insist.

“I know, I know,” he says, kissing you again. “God, I love you.”

The words slip out without him even realizing. It’s not until he sees your eyes widen a little that he comprehends the weight of what he’s just said. Fuck. He’s gone and fucked this whole thing up, hasn’t he? Can he…take it back? But he doesn’t want to. It’s true, he realizes—he really does love you.

“I love you, too,” you say breathlessly, wrapping your arms around him tightly.

Joel breathes a sigh of relief as he hugs you. He takes another glance at the TV from over your shoulder, where the still image of Alex Trebek stares back at him. Joel must be imagining it, but…it almost looks like Trebek is winking at him.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

#the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #x reader #jace writes #can you tell i have many thoughts about jeopardy lmao

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blackwatervial · 9 months

Text

The Pete Show.

For my rewatch of The Pete Show (sometimes and more uncommonly known as KinnPorsche The Series La Forte), I will be noting down time stamps in which the main character Pete (from the Pete Show) makes an appearance. I will also, as a little bonus, add appearances of his romantic interest “Vegas”. Today:

Episode 7

Rejoice, Pete enthusiasts, for episode 7 is here to remedy what episode 6 lacked. I mean, there's still not enough Pete in this one, but at least it's more than one, and those we meet are absolutely exquisit. We don't have to wait for long for our boy to appear. At minute 2, we see croupier Pete who inspired many a casino AU

Is it just me or is this the bowliest his bowl cut has ever been? So straight. So shiny.

At 12:30, a local idiot who should get his eyes checked for short-sightedness, called Vegas, forces Pete into the background again for yet another appearance of blurry Pete.

Look at that sunshine smile. Vegas you absolute and utter buffoon, stop looking at Porsche!

There's a very brief blurry Pete at 37:00, but he looks delicious so I'm showing him to you. You're welcome

At 39, we first meet Master Spy Pete, who is very bad at his job if the description was "try to stay unnoticed" and very good at his job if it was "attract the attention of the attractive apex predator"

Finally, no blurry Pete when Vegas looks at him. Then again, there is a distinct lack of alternatives.

At 47:40 we have a brief glimpse of Gun (not to be confused with Gun) Pete, which is a very good look on him

49:40 has Spy Pete once more - this time as an observer. Since the scene happens during a party of sorts, he's wearing something black and white, and also hoop earings! It pleases me greatly.

Love-Interest solo appreance counter

At 21:30 Vegas is making a fool of himself again and tries to flirt with Porsche by showing him his bike. Jfc, Vegas, his name is already Porsche! What does he need a Ducati for? Read the room.

53:08 gives us another attempt at getting a seat in the Porsche, yet again ending in failure. Absolute cringefail of a man

Bonus Episode alert!

Here, we have an EXTREMELY GOOD and EXTREMELY RELATABLE Pete. He just wants one day of peace. Just one day of not having to deal with this bullshit. One day of not having to work for complete dumbasses. I am this Pete, this Pete is me.

And oh, look! Of course Vegas is also back with more second hand embarrassment, trying to gift Porsche roses right in front of Kinn's hospital-issued salad. Dude you're such a manwhore manslaughter manfailure

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#The Pete Show #kprewatch2023

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waywardnerd67 · 1 year

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Destroyer of Worlds

Title: Destroyer of Worlds Summary: He was the weapon to take down the corruption of superheroes. She was the only one who could wield him. Main Characters: Soldier Boy (Ben), Reader Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x Reader Rating: E - Explicit Warnings: Angst/Fluff (if you squint)/Mind Control/Smut Prompt: “Don’t underestimate her. And don’t bet against her.” (Bold & Italic) Word Count: 4967 A/N: This is for @avanatural Follower Challenge

The Russians next to her were speaking their native language thinking she could not understand them. It was better they didn’t know she had spent the better part of two years fucking a Russian diplomat to get her where she was today and he happened to give her lessons in Russian.

(Y/N) played the studious, quiet, American scientist well. No one would suspect she was there for one reason and one reason only. Her eyes drifted to the cryo chamber that held her deepest desire within. She pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and adjusted her legs recrossing them from the ache building between them. Today was the day she had been waiting for since joining the Russians nearly fifteen years ago.

(Y/N) was the daughter of a low level superhero at Vought. She remembered going to the Tower and being in awe of all the superheroes. She admired their strength and integrity. Much like her father had been. She studied every superhero there ever was but one had captured her full attention and heart from the moment she saw him in an old movie about his life. He was everything she imagined a man should be. Handsome, charming, strong, a leader, a true man.

When she was old enough, she took a job at Vought in their gift shop. She eventually would work her way up to being the personal assistant to Stan Edgar while Vought paid for her to become a scientist. More than once, she had influenced Edgar in decisions about creating the perfect superhero. Compound V had been a good start, Temp V was dangerous but could be improved upon with the right subject. (Y/N) felt deep down there was only one superhero who was the key to everything they wanted.

When an opportunity to go to Russia to study what their scientists had discovered was something she had to fight for. In the end, she was going to do whatever it took to go. Now, she realized that she hadn’t needed to fight so hard to go because they were already going to exile her there just like they had done with America’s Superhero.

You know Dmitri said the American is a good fuck.

She tore her eyes away from the cryo chamber when they mentioned her and glanced at the two scientists at the table next to hers. She smiled sweetly at them before returning her gaze to the papers in front of her.

Dmitri is’t man enough to fuck her.

She swallowed the giggle trying to escape her lips. He was right, (Y/N) had approached the poor, shy, young Russian one late night. The table the two were sitting at was the exact spot their friend had bent her over and fucked her. Of course, she had to get herself off when the young man came nearly five minutes after being inside of her. It was good for his self-esteem and she needed to feel something other than her fingers inside of her. Plus, he was able to deliver an important message to Vought Tower for her.

Suddenly, there was a bunch of commotion from the hall outside the lab. Five people in worker’s uniforms walked in that were obviously not local. A small smile appeared on her lips as she realized who had walked in. The alarms began to go off and Russian guards began to fill the room. She ducked down beneath her table as a young American man came next to her.

“Oh my god! Oh my god! Please help me. They’ve held me here for so long.” Tears instantly started down her cheeks.

“We’ll help you, promise. Stay down.”

He looked up at his friends who were getting pinned down by the guards. She couldn’t help the eye roll that followed. Dumbass, rag-tag team of losers. She had been hoping when she leaked some information to Maeve that she would send someone a little more put together. (Y/N) saw a flash shoot out over her head much like Homelander and her heart nearly flatlined. Then she saw the obvious leader of this group getting shot and not being phased. His eyes glowed much like Homelander’s and then he shot a hot beam of energy from them.

“Holy shit.” She muttered.

“MM!” The young man yelled before disappearing before her eyes.

(Y/N) took the opportunity to get out of there and down the back hallway. She stopped by a nearby observation window where she could see everything but no one could see her. All the guards and the two scientists were dead. The team seemed to be chastising the leader and young man for having powers.

“Only last 24 hours. Break in case of an emergency, like this.”

His accent sent shivers down her body. (Y/N) bet he was great fuck. A man who would keep going until her legs were shaking and her voice hoarse from crying out his name. She watched tall, dark and handsome walk over to the cryo chamber and her heart began to race.

“Fuck me, he’s going to open it.” She whispered to herself watching him do exactly that.

Toxic gas billowed from the chamber as they all stared into it.

“Christ, Soldier Boy.”

(Y/N) gripped the edge of the window to keep her knees from buckling. Watching as thick fingers gripped the edge of the chamber and all her dreams stepped out. He was more beautiful than any movie or picture she had seen of him. The Russians had never allowed her to see him except in old experiment videos. So many nights she had snuck into the lab alone, watching those videos and getting herself off pressed against his chamber.

The floor beneath began to shake and from the center of Soldier Boy’s chest emitted a bright glow. She took cover hearing the explosion, debris flying in all directions and the guttural scream of the long forgotten superhero. She looked up through the window in time to see the aftermath and watched as he was walking towards the hall she was in. (Y/N) quickly made her way down towards the exit to wait for her destiny to come to her.

He approached cautiously, seeing her standing against the only exit.

“Move.” His raspy voice raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

“If you want out of this hellhole then I suggest you follow me.”

He straightened his body trying to be intimidating, “Move or I’ll move you.”

Her eyes traveled down his body. Every muscle was taut and hard as he strained to keep himself calm. She bit her lips seeing his cock, even soft was long and thick. She snapped her eyes back up to his seeing the darkness held deep within those beautiful olive irises.

“You could move me or kill me whichever. But that would be a colossal mistake. I have access to clothes, food, booze and a way back to where you really want to be.”

He scoffed, “Where’s that?”

“America. New York. Vought.”

His eyes widened, “Why the fuck would I want to go there? They betrayed me.”

“Exactly. I know all about what truly happened to you. A lot has changed since you were captured and you’re going to need some guidance. I can provide that.” She stepped toe to toe with him, “Like right now, we need to get the fuck out of here before Russian soldiers storm this place.”

Standing there, he was a good four to five inches taller than she was. A wall of pure strength that could snap her neck in an instance. He was the ultimate predator and she was hoping to be enticing enough to be his prey. Her heart skipped seeing the corner of his lip slightly curl upward. She had him.

“Lead the way.”

It had taken a couple of days to get passage back to the states and into New York without Vought knowing. Soldier Boy had remain quiet except for the stewardess he fucked in the lavatory making (Y/N) sick to her stomach with jealousy. When they had landed, he demanded to go to The Legend’s home.

“He’s retired and has nothing to do with Vought anymore. He sits in his penthouse suite snorting and drinking all day.” She said as they rode a cab to the old man’s penthouse apartment.

For the first time, Soldier Boy smiled, “Sounds like a great life to me. He has something I need. I could also use a little pick me up.”

She rolled her eyes as he huffed looking out his window.

“Don’t fucking judge me because you’re little Miss Virgin Mary. Get off your fucking high horse.”

She gritted her teeth trying to control the rage filling her veins. Taking a deep breath, she played into his whole pure image of her. She pushed a single tear down her cheek with a soft sniffle.

“Haven’t been a virgin since I was sixteen and I caught Homelander’s eye.”

She could see him looking back at her, “The blonde douchebag plastered everywhere?”

She nodded, keeping her eyes focused on her hands resting on her lap. Lacing her fingers together she squeezed them as tight as she could.

“I worked in the gift shop of Vought since my father was a low level superhero. Homelander was there for an event. He knew who I was because he knew my father. That made me irresistible.”

He scoffed, “Happens to the best of us. Plenty of times at events I would have women throwing themselves at me or one who particularly caught my attention.”

(Y/N) was aware of his conquests. Once more her stomach twisted with envy knowing all of them had what she wanted. She blew out a long breath trying to keep her jealousy from showing.

“Yeah, I wasn’t seeking his attention. That didn’t keep him from taking me into a storage closet and forcing himself on me.” She watched his fist clench, “I kept telling him I was a virgin and I wanted to wait for the right man.”

“He didn’t give a shit. Supes never do. Even America’s hero.”

She glanced over seeing him staring out his window, “Told me there was no better man than him, but I knew one man who was better than him. I had watched his movie on repeat until I wore it out. I studied every book ever written about him and how he had saved so many lives. I devoted my entire life to finding out the truth of how he disappeared knowing Vought’s story of him dying was bullshit.”

She turned, looking right at him as his bright eyes bored into hers. The best way to keep someone from penetrating your wall of lies is layering truth in between those lies. She allowed him to see this moment of truth in order to gain a little more trust. A small smile appeared on his lips and knew she had him.

“You think I’m a great man?” He scoffed, “You may be more fucked up than I am.”

His laughter sent waves of hot desire flowing over her. Being this close to him was starting to wear on her self-control. Squeezing her thighs together, she giggled softly for his amusement.

“That’s probably accurate. We’re here.”

The car stopped and they made their way to The Legend’s penthouse suite. The reunion had not been hearts and flowers. The Legend knew better than to fuck with Soldier Boy and when his eyes landed on her, he complied immediately. He knew better than to fuck with her as well.

“You know her?” Soldier Boy pointed to her, “She says I can trust her. Is that true?”

She narrowed her eyes with a silent warning. The Legend knocked back his drink and pulled out a little baggy with white powder in it.

“Don’t underestimate her. And don’t bet against her.” He bent over snorting a line of the drugs, “Whatever you want, she can get for you.”

Soldier Boy looked from the old man to her and back, “Fine. Now, I need to know where my team is.”

The Legend told him everything he knew about where the team members of Payback were. (Y/N) knew where he would go as The Legend told him where Crimson Countess was. When they left, (Y/N) told the driver her address to head too.

“That’s not where Crimson is at” He grunted.

“I know. You need to actually sleep and not run of pure adrenaline with a dash of cocaine. If we run into trouble then I need you at your best.”

He rolled his eyes, “Where are we going then?”

(Y/N) gave him a genuine smile, “My house outside the city and Vought’s peering eyes.”

The drive was nearly two hours long from the city. Soldier Boy had fallen asleep immediately and now was resting his head on her shoulder. (Y/N) ran her fingers through his hair moving it from his face. He sighed as her fingers went for a second pass through the silky, dark, strands. His hand snapped up, catching her wrist.

The lids of his eyes opened reveal darkened orbs staring up at her. Rage and desire swirled within them before he blinked showing no emotion at all.

“How much longer?” He grunted, sitting up to the other side of the car.

“Nearly there. I will get you set up in the downstairs suite. All I ask is that you don’t sneak out and go after Crimson by yourself.”

They were pulling onto the long driveway as Soldier Boy rolled down the window looking at her property. (Y/N) had made sure that the old farm that had been in her family for generations remained in her name during her time with the Russians. She had only lived in the house that had been newly built for a few months. She had no idea what she would be walking into, but the moment she saw it coming over the small hill she felt at home.

“Does anyone else live here?” His gruff voice pulled her back into the car.

She shook her head, “Only me and I haven’t been here in fifteen years.”

“Fuck.” He breathed as the car came to a stop, “The Russians had you for fifteen years.”

(Y/N) leaned forward to the driver, “Please go and pick up groceries. Make sure you get a few bottles of wine, a bottle whiskey and please pick up a standing order prescription from the pharmacy. Give them my name and you should have no issues.”

“Yes ma’am.”

She smiled at Soldier Boy before getting out of the car. He followed her in through the front door and it was as if nothing had changed for (Y/N). She could smell a fresh fire burning in the living room fireplace. Waves of apples and salted caramel flowed from room to room.

“Is there a fucking bakery in here?”

She laughed, “No. My favorite scent is caramel apples. If it bothers you I can make sure all the warmers are turned off.”

“It’s fine.” He smirks, “I like apples and caramel.”

“Let me show you where you’ll be staying.”

(Y/N) led him down the stairs to the guest suite. There was a California king bed with a mini bar and fridge. It was decorated in forest green and gold as the inspiration stepped over to the bed.

“There’s a master bathroom with anything you may need and I will have some clothes brought down to you.”

Soldier Boy sat on the bed running his hand through his long hair, “Why are you helping me?”

“We want the same things and in the end I think you’re the only one who can achieve that. If that means feeding you, clothing you, and finding you someone to fuck senseless then so be it. Say the word and you’ll have it.”

His eyes widened with possibilities, “Best bottle of whiskey and some weed is a good start.”

“The whiskey is on its way, but the weed will have to wait until tomorrow. However, something else is coming with the whiskey that I think will suffice.”

Soldier Boy walked up to her, “You’ve thought of everything haven’t you?”

She stood her ground confidently even as her knees trembled, “Yes I have. I’ll leave you to get cleaned up. I’ll have dinner sent down if you like or you can join me in a couple of hours.”

She walked up the stairs far enough to be out of sight but could still hear once he was in the shower. When the water started and she heard the door shut, (Y/N) made her way back down. She looked at the mirror above the sink getting a full view of the man beneath the water cascading down his body. The bathroom filled with the woodsy body wash as (Y/N) squeeze her thighs together.

Then a low groan echoed throughout the tiled walls. Watching the mirror closely she could see his head roll back against his shoulders as his large hand stroked himself. A deep moan sent shivers down her body and the familiar ache grew stronger.

“Fuck.” He grunted as his hand picking up the pace, “Fuck, fuck.”

(Y/N) was mesmerized by Soldier Boy jacking off. His muscles tensing, his hand pressed against the tiles as his other hand feverishly jerked off his long, thick cock. She found her own hand drifting down into the waistband of her pants. Her fingers rubbed her aching clit as another wave of curses flew from his lips.

He was close and so was she when their eyes connected for a single heartbeat in the mirror. Neither of them stopped until her body began to shake as her pleasure flooded her body.

“Ohhh… fuck.”

She moaned, watching as his jaw clenched and his body jerked forward. A loud, gravelly growl bounced off the walls as he came. She dipped her fingers into her wetness then pulled her hand from her pants. She brought her fingers to her mouth and licked them clean, enjoying Soldier Boy’s reaction. He kept slowly stroking himself as his jaw slacked.

(Y/N) turned around leaving the suite and making her way towards her own room. The driver was walking in as she was stepping into the kitchen.

“Please take the bottle of whiskey and pills downstairs and have Mitchell go down to give our guest a haircut.”

“As you wish.” He immediately walked downstairs.

(Y/N) stepped inside her room and finally allowed her muscles to unwind the coils of tension. The faint tingling of bliss fading as she laid down on her bed. Now the ball was in his court if he wanted to pursue her or not. She got up heading into her own bathroom to shower and tend to her own needs. She couldn’t help herself to glance at the door or mirror to see if Soldier Boy would be there. He never was and she dried herself off before walking naked into her closet.

She picked out her favorite dress, an olive green, halter sundress that was modest and sexy. (Y/N) braided her hair off to the side and took her contacts out, placing her black rimmed glasses over her eyes. Looking in the mirror she gave herself a nod of approval before turning around to see Soldier Boy leaning against the doorframe.

“I’m a little underdressed.” He chuckled.

“I think you look good. I don’t think there’s a single picture of you in civilian clothes. This is a nice change.”

Boy was it, as her eyes traveled the length of his body. Light gray sweatpants hung low on his narrow hips leaving very little to the imagination of what was held within them. His broad chest and shoulders were covered by a white tank and New York Giants jersey. His long hair and beard were trimmed up. Her hand twitching at her side to touch the silky locks.

“If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it downstairs for dinner.”

She looked away bashfully dragging her bottom lip beneath her teeth, “Then I guess we should head downstairs. Did you find the whiskey and medicine to be to your liking?”

He stepped aside for her to pass by him. She brushed against him hearing the low groan rumbling in his chest.

“You did good kid. I missed bennies, it’s how we won D-Day, you know.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks clenching her jaw swallowing the bitter rage trying to fly out of her mouth from being called a kid. That’s when she felt a hot, firm body press against her back. His hands gripped her hips pulling her ass against his hard length.

“Two can play this game, but you’ll realize I’m better at it. But it’s fun to see you try to get a rise out of me.”

He let her go and pushed past her making his way down the hallway. (Y/N) took a deep breath trying to calm the frantic nerves buzzing in her stomach.

“Challenge accepted, Soldier Boy.” She whispered before following him to the kitchen.

The cook had prepared steaks, baked potatoes and salad for dinner. (Y/N) motioned to her to serve Soldier Boy first. She watched as his eyes traveled the older woman’s body, tilting his head to get a different view of her ass as she walked away. There was no reason now to play the bashful innocent woman. When his eyes met hers she continued to glare as the cook served her meal.

“Thank you. You can leave for the evening.” She reached out to the older woman smiling genuinely, “I appreciate you and the rest of the staff staying here for so long. You have done a marvelous job keeping everything perfect. Please tell the rest of the staff to take the night off and go home.”

“Yes ma’am. We’re glad to see you back home.”

(Y/N) arched an eyebrow at the curious look her superhero was giving her. She cut into her steak ignoring him for the moment. The tension between them was growing as they ate in silence. She would catch him staring at her and he would catch her watching him devour his food. When they were both done, she stood grabbing her plate then his. His hand grasped her wrist pulling her onto his lap as she set the plates on the table.

“As much as I love this little game we’re playing. I want to know what your real intentions are.”

“With what exactly? My vendetta against Vought or with you?” She asked, slipping her arm around his neck.

His eyes closed as her fingers stretched up into his hair, “Both.”

“Both answers are easy. Vought screwed over my father and in turn my family. I simply want to take out Edgar and I figured helping you get back at your team is a bonus.”

“And me?” His eyes were dark, shining with desire again.

“I want your help taking down Vought…” She paused, leaning in until her lips nearly brushed against his, “and I want you to fuck me.”

He chuckled as she leaned back, “You’re a little young for me?”

She laughed getting off his lap, “Sweetheart, the only women old enough for you are in graves. If you want that then I’ll take you to the nearest cemetery.”

“You have a smart mouth on you.”

(Y/N) knew she had him hooked now it was time to reel him in. She untied the top of her dress letting it drop as she unzipped it. His eyes slowly took her in, standing bare in front of him. She straddled his waist, running her hands beneath his jersey and rubbing herself against him.

“Yes, I do and it has many uses. I would love to show you, but if you think you can’t keep up old man then I guess I’ll go take care of myself.”

Soldier Boy snarled before picking her up with ease roughly dropping her on the table, “Fuck that, I’ll show you what this old man can do.”

He pushed his sweats down next to the jersey he nearly ripped from his body. As he pulled the tank over his head, (Y/N) rubbed herself gathering her arousal of them then sucking them cleaning.

“Mmm, I taste so good. You should taste me first before you fuck me.”

Watching Soldier Boy drop to his knees nearly made her cum as she rubbed herself slowly. The moment his tongue ran up her, (Y/N) arched her back and the all too familiar burn of pleasure flowed in her veins. Looking down, his eyes locked with hers beginning to glow a vibrant, neon green and she smiled.

“Such a good boy, eating me out. Fuck, need to feel your fingers deep inside me.”

He obeyed immediately, pushing two thick fingers in her. Running her fingers into his hair, she grinded herself against his face not caring if he needed to breathe or not.

“Keep going Ben, I’m so close to cumming. Oh god, Ben just like that.”

His fingers fucking her, his mouth working over her clit and his beard rubbing against her bare skin sent her over the edge. Crying out his real name as she squeezed her thighs around his head. When she let go of him, he was panting.

(Y/N) sat up keeping her legs spread for him, “Standing.”

Soldier Boy’s eyes were still glowing as her powers weaved into his mind. He followed her command looking slightly confused and taken back.

“Now Benjamin, I need you to fuck me nice and hard. I need you to cum inside of me as I’m cumming.”

She watched as he stroked his cock aligning himself with her. He pulled her ass to the edge of the table then pushed inside of her slowly until snapping his hips against her.

“Fuck!” She cried out, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Fuck me hard against the wall, Ben.”

He picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist and went to the nearest wall pressing her back against it. He thrusted hard and deep inside of her. In all the times she had used her powers to control the minds of others, she had never enjoyed as much as at this moment. Her powers were rooted in connecting with the person and there was no greater emotional or physical connection than sex.

“Harder Ben… oh god, fuck me harder.”

He slammed into her and (Y/N) could feel the bruises forming already. She knew she was playing with fire asking the man with superhuman strength to fuck her hard. She needed to feel it though. She needed him to make her cum and she was so close.

“Like that Ben, oh fuck, I’m so close. Make me cum Benjamin. Fuck!”

Waves of overwhelming pleasure hit her and as he knocked her back against the wall hard.

“Fuck! Fuck! (Y/N)!” He cried out her name burying his head into her neck.

He stumbled backwards keeping a firm hold on her as he leaned against the table. His cock still inside of her as she took everything he had within her. His hands were trembling as he gripped beneath her ass keeping her in place. (Y/N) pressed her forehead against his.

“Look at me Ben.”

His eyes connected with hers and she could see the flecks of neon green within his olive ones. Her powers were flowing down her veins like lava and she rotated her hips against him. He groaned, immediately grinding himself against her.

“Such a good boy. Now, you’re going to carry me to my bedroom and we’re going to get cleaned up. Then you’re going to fuck me again.”

“Yes ma’am.” He carried her as she asked and followed every order she gave.

When exhaustion took over his body, (Y/N) picked up her cell phone hitting the only number saved within it.

“Hello dad, I have him.”

Mindstorm’s low chuckle came through, “Good girl, Temptress. You know what to do with him. Make sure he knows I had nothing to do with Vought’s plan and it was all Noir’s doing.”

“Yes sir.” She smiled, looking over at the man sleeping peacefully next to her, “Once I have him take out Edgar and everyone else in our way. Then… then I get what you promised?”

There was a long sigh, “Yes, once I have control over Vought then you and Soldier Boy can live happily ever after. You will never hear from me again.”

(Y/N) hung up the phone, snuggling up next to Ben. She ran her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead.

“I’m sorry it has to be this way. Mindstorm is a mean fuck, but he’s still my dad. Once you use your new powers from the Russians to wipe out all the Supes at Vought tower then we can live a happy, honest life together.”

She wrapped his arm around her, “Hold me.”

He pulled her into his chest, sighing. She nuzzled her head against his chest allowing herself to tell the truth while he slept.

“My codename is Temptress and I can control your mind with a deep, personal connection. One day, I hope you’ll be able to love me as much as I do and then I won’t have to control your mind. Until then, you’ll be my weapon to wield. Starting with Vought then your backstabbing team and finally my father.”

She kissed his chest as he hugged her closer, “I love you Soldier Boy. Sweet dreams, my destroyer of worlds.”

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