#i'm only a little sorry for the way i decided to start this thread because it took me forever to come up with something

[oflowtides]

closed starter for @urbnlgnds (kash) location: kash's place

Things didn't really feel much different ever since Kash and Sabrina kissed, but every time she saw him, she felt like dissolving into a fit of giggles. They didn't exactly say verbatim that they were dating now, but of course they were - the moonlit confession was just as good as any 'official' conversation. Nothing had changed too much - the pair often spent time quietly together, but this time she could get up and walk over to kiss him whenever she wanted - so when he opened the door, that's exactly what she did - threw her arms around his neck and kissed him.

"Hi," she breathed, a large grin on her face. "Did you wanna hang out? I brought coffee - I just set it down before doing that I didn't want to dump it on you."

[dolicekiss]

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)

Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)

This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3

♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request

Contumacious

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.

Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.

Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.

So he didn't sacrifice shit.

The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”

You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.

Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.

If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.

When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.

His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.

That only worked to raise his anger more.

“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him �� gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.

You placed your hand on your hip.

A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.

“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.

He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”

You couldn't believe it.

He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.

He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.

In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”

Duncan groaned.

He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.

But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”

You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”

Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.

Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.

Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.

Duncan’s hand fell.

Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”

You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.

Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.

He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.

Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.

No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.

The Black Kaiser.

Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.

Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.

The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.

You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.

He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.

You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.

Duncan caught a glimpse of it.

His eyes darkening.

“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.

“You got a problem with everything, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.

“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.

Your breath hitched.

Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”

You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”

Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”

Duncan growled.

He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”

You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.

It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.

A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.

You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.

His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.

“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”

A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.

His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.

Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.

“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”

Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.

Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.

“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.

That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.

After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.

When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.

Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.

“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”

Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.

Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.

“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”

You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.

Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”

“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.

Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.

Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.

The sound of skin against skin grew.

A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.

Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”

He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.

Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.

Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”

He didn't let you relax.

After all he too needed to cum.

Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.

You could feel all of it.

Heightened sensitivity.

Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.

Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.

Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.

You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.

Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”

You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.

“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.

Your walls clenched.

Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.

Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.

He also collapsed next to you.

Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.

His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.

“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”

Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.

Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.

“That feels good.”

Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”

“Oh shut up.”

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Pull the Thread

Fandom: Marvel (Mob Boss AU)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky used to be so in love and so… ignorant of the roles you had to play, which lead to you breaking up. But that didn’t seem to keep you away from each other since you now act as Bucky’s nurse whenever he gets hurt. Based off my mini fic here.

Warnings: mentions of child death

Stitched Together | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

When you wake the next morning, Bucky and Sam are gone. Their sleeping areas are made up and a note is left on your kitchen counter.

Thanks again.

See you around.

-B

PS. call me if you ever need anything

Beside it is a cup of coffee and a stack of bills. You count it out and chuckle in disbelief. Bucky left you two hundred dollars for helping him out.

You grab your phone and type in Bucky's number. You insert a picture of the money along with the text:

You: you didn't have to pay me.

Bucky: I wanted to. For disturbing your night and for your work.

You: It's fine, but thanks anyway.

Bucky: Hope you have a good day, sweetheart. :)

You pause. Sweetheart. You can't help the way your heart beats a little faster when you read that word. He used to call you that when you two were dating. It was never "babe" or "honey". Always "sweetheart".

You feel conflicted. You want to scold him for calling you that...but you also really miss being called that by him.

You decide to not respond back at all, since you still need to eat before you head into work.

_____________

Bucky shows up at your place again a few nights later. This time, he's alone and with a bullet graze on his side.

You frown at him as you let him into your apartment, "Is this going to be a habit of yours?"

He snorts, "You think I purposely get hurt just to come and see you?"

You shrug, "I don't know, Buck! We don't really know each other anymore, so I'm not sure what you'd do!" you snap at him. He looks at you with surprise and you sigh, "Sorry. It's been a long day and I wasn't expecting you."

"I can go. I'll-I can find someone else to help me."

"No. You're here already. Might as well get it over with." You gesture to the couch and he sits down as he waits for you to come back with your first aid kit.

Bucky starts to rethink things. It's true that he didn't purposefully get shot at so he can see you. But he definitely didn't hesitate to start heading to your place as soon as things were handled. He just misses you.

You come back with gloves on. You have Bucky take off his shirt so you can fully assess the wound. Just a bullet graze. He lays on his other side as you clean his wound.

Again, you work in silence. You're focused on getting this done quickly and efficiently so you can go to sleep.

As you dress his wound, you say, "You should get some antibiotics or pain relievers so it doesn't get infected or if the pain becomes too much. Change the dressing often. Make sure there's minimal movement."

He nods, "Alright. I can do that."

You help him sit up and pull his shirt back on.

Once he's dressed, Bucky looks up at you, "Maybe you and I could make an arrangement."

You look at him with a cocked brow and he stammers “Not that kind of arrangement! Business! Strict-Strictly business. You take care of me and my people when we get hurt. I pay you for your efforts and we’re out of your hair until the next time.”

"...I don't know, Bucky."

"We'll be discreet. I promise. I'll make sure everyone knows not to blab about you and to only come if it's an absolute emergency."

"I'm sure you can find an actual doctor or something to help you. Why me?"

"Because I trust you."

"Bucky, my dad is the chief of police. You shouldn't trust me."

"I know you wouldn't tell your dad. Because despite how long it's been, I still know you care about me."

You cross your arms over your chest and look at him defensively, "And how do you know that?"

He gives you a cocky grin, "Because you wouldn't have helped me that first night."

"I was doing my civic duty. I'm in the healthcare field. It's my job to help people no matter where they come from."

"Okay. Fine. All I'm saying is that you do good work and I don't want anyone else fixing me and my guys up, but you. And, of course," he pauses to pull out his money clip, picking out a few hundred dollar bills. He holds it out to you, waiting.

You weigh out your options and then take the money. You agree, because, despite what your father tells you and how Bucky treated you in the past, a part of you still loves him and will always love him.

"Alright. I'll do it. Just let me know when you're coming just so I'm not surprised every time there's a knock at my door."

"Will do," he mumbles, grunting as he stands to his feet, "Get some rest. I'm sorry you had a shitty day."

"It-It's fine. I just-" you pause and start feeling choked up. You let out a sob and you lean forward, burying your face into Bucky's shirt.

His arms immediately wrap around you in a protective, comforting hug, "I got you, sweetheart. It's okay. Let it out." His heart breaks when he hears your muffled cries.

"We lost a patient today. He had cancer. He was only eleven," you mumbled into Bucky.

His arms around you tighten, "I'm sorry, sweetheart. That's heartbreaking. But I'm sure you did everything you could to make sure his last moments were good, right?"

You slowly nod and step away from him. You wipe at your eyes, "Shit, sorry. I didn't mean to-"

"It's okay, Y/N. Cry on me whenever you like," he gives you a soft smile, "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah. I've just been keeping that in all day. Thanks, Bucky."

"No problem. You're a great nurse, Y/N. I just know that those kids are lucky to have you take care of them. I know I am." He kisses your forehead, "'Til next time." He murmurs before heading to the door.

"Hopefully, not any time soon."

He shoots you a grin, "No promises." With a wink, he's out the door. You go over and lock it in place. You lean against it and let out a long sigh. Your heart is beating fast again.

_________________________

It's one of those nights where you dad comes over after a shift and you two have dinner. Neither of you felt like cooking, so you ordered takeout instead. You eat out of the styrofoam containers at your small dining table, pausing in-between bites to chat.

"Work's been okay?" your dad asks before shoveling food into his mouth.

You swallow your food, washing it down with water, "Yeah. We lost a patient earlier this week and I-I can't seem to shake it."

Your dad nods in understanding, "I get it. It's never easy and it never gets easy. And you can't even do anything but continue working after it happens. You gotta push through it. In our line of work, it's important to care for others, but also important to care for yourself too. Got that, bug?"

"I know, dad. Thanks. What about you? You said earlier that work's been super stressful lately?"

Your dad gives an exhausted sigh and leans back in his chair, "Yeah. Been working closely with different units. For years there's been word that the Barnes Family has been the head of several crime operations happening around the city. They've been good about keeping their tracks covered, but since George Barnes' passing, I'm hoping to see his son slip up." Your dad gives a disappointed shake of his head, "Still can't believe you were friends and dated his son."

"He wasn't a bad kid, dad."

"Yeah, up until he started being a prick to you. Good thing you broke things off with him when you did."

You slowly nod, "Yeah. Good thing."

___________________________

You hadn't seen Bucky for two weeks, but he'd been texting you here and there during that time.

He sent you pictures of dogs he'd seen while out and about, would ask about your dad, even ordered food for you when you said you were too tired to eat. It was really sweet and kind of him, but you couldn't help but still have your reservations about Bucky.

Did your heart skip a beat every time you received a message from him? Absolutely. But were you still anticipating on the day he'd turn around on you again? Yup.

You kept things friendly, but also not too friendly. You didn't indulge in anything too personal or detailed. For all you knew, Bucky could be using you to get information about what your dad had on him. As much as you wanted to think Bucky wouldn't do that, you had to keep yourself accountable and aware.

[astraystayyh]

skz when you are stressed and overworked

alternatively, what love languages of theirs would manifest <3 just a little smtg i wrote for anyone who's stressed,, sending you warm hugs <333

Chan : physical touch

you've been staring at your computer for the past four hours

so when you hear the front door open, you quickly run to the bathroom to freshen up

giving three quick slaps to your face so chan wouldn't notice how tired you are

but as soon as he sees you, he opens his arms wide, inviting you in with a soft smile on his face

once his arms encircle you, you feel yourself tear up

the hug is warm and comforting and it makes all your self-restraint dissolve

you start to sob, and chan tries to let go to look at you

but you only tighten your hold on him

so he bends down slowly to pick you up as he moves to the nearest couch

he sits there and your legs are straddling his lap, and he sways you gently, his hand threading through your hair

he doesn't let go as you cry your entire stress out

he just holds you tightly to him, your chest snug against his

he's just like "it's okay, you're okay honey, i got you"

when you pull away, hiccuping, he gently wipes your tears away

grabbing your face between his hands to place a kiss on your forehead

"breathe for me, sweetheart"

he doesn't let go of you the entire night

Minho : acts of service

minho can sense your breakdown coming

he notices how stressed you are

but he doesn't want to pressure you or force you to stop working

so instead, he tries to lighten your load

doing your laundry, buying your groceries for you, washing the dishes in your sink

small acts that he does in silence in the hopes that it will make you feel better

when it's 10 pm and he comes into your room

he sees you sitting in front of your mirror, staring blankly ahead, freshly showered

he gently squeezes your right shoulder and you melt into his touch, leaning your cheek onto his hand

he then sits you on the edge of the bed, kneeling in front of you to apply the products for you

when you see how concentrated he is at picking the right products and in the right order

you start to tear up

because of the stress but mostly because of how loved he makes you feel, since you notice every little action of his

so when you start crying he panics, rising up in an attempt to stop your tears from falling

"hey, hey, baby. I'm sorry I'll get the order right"

but you shake your head and grab him from the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you

you kiss him as hard as you can, trying your best to convey how grateful you are for him

Changbin : quality time + gift (in a food form) giving

Changbin can tell you are overworking yourself

so he tries to prevent a breakdown from happening

he knows that what you need is a distraction and a way to recharge yourself

so one night when you are busy working in your bedroom

he sneakily opens the door and pulls you by your hand

he treats you like a kid, picking you up and only placing you down to slip a pair of shoes in your feet

and pulling a hoodie over your head

then he's picking you up again and running to the street with you in his arms

once he's sure you won't run away, he places you down the ground and laces his hand with yours

he takes you on a walk, around the neighborhood, and he's like "what are you craving? what do you want to eat? I'll buy anything for you"

when you finally decide on a meal he takes you to a nearby park where you're alone

"tell me about it, baby" he tells you while you're both eating

so you vent about everything's that's bothering you

he listens to you intently and when you are done he's like "do you want comfort or advice?"

if it's comfort then he's telling you how proud he is of you and how everything you are feeling is valid

if it's advice then he's trying to figure out how you can write four essays in one day

but he'll be there with you

and when you are back home you're feeling very recharged

because a break with him is exactly what you needed

Hyunjin : quality time + physical touch

hyunjin knows that when you're stressed you tend to forget to take care of yourself

so he's always there to remind you

texts throughout the day, little notes left on your desk and fridge

"drink water baby!!" "did you eat? you should eat again"

but he also wants to do something really meagninful for you to help you destress

so one night when you are coming home from the library

you open the door and you are met with a candlelight dinner

and you can see a makeshift pillow fort built in the living room

as soon as he sees you he's all rambling "i know I'm not the best cook and i understand if you don't want to eat it and we can always order takeout-"

and you're like shut up and kiss me

and when you realize he's made you dinner and dessert and ordered your favorite icecream, you're tearing up again

but he knows how good it feels to cry so he just opens his arms for you and you bury yourself in him

he gently pats your back as you cry

and once you're done he smiles so brightly at you, bopping your nose with his finger

he's like "no more crying okay?"

and he spends the entire night trying his hardest to make you laugh

Han : words of reassurance

instead of leaving you alone when you are working

han is always there

he's besides you on the bed working on a track of his own

or just scrolling through his phone

but he's there, glancing at you from time to time as if you're a ticking time bomb

as soon as he notices that your sighs are getting longer and heavier

he stands up quickly from his place

he grabs your face between his hands, looking at you with wide eyes

"baby you are so smart you got this. and i love you. and i can't believe I'm dating the smartest person in the world"

just compliment after compliment and sometimes they are so far fetched you can't help but giggle

but when you are really at your lowest point and on the verge of breaking down

he just guides you to the bed and his voice is so soft

and it takes on that low tone of his, as if he hasn't been so sure about anything in his life

he's looking you right in the eye while telling you how proud he is of you

and you can't help but tear up at his words

because it gets hard and sometimes all you need to hear is that someone is proud of you

he then pecks your face all over

nose, eyelids, forehead and cheeks, until you are smiling widely again

Felix : physical touch + gift (in food form again) giving

he's a massage fairy i will die by this hill

at the end of the day he's always there ready to undo any knot in your body

he's so gentle with you, massaging your sore shoulders and neck

all while telling you how hard you worked today and how proud he is of you

and you can feel yourself relax completely from his touch

sleep doesn't come easily to you when you are stressed

since you can't help but overthink about everything going on in your life

so he's ready for you with a warm glass of milk and honey, or tea

he lays your head on his lap while he plays with your hair

telling you again how all of this hard work will be worth it and pay off in the end

sometimes you'd lay on his chest while he hums a lullaby under his breath

sometimes you'd just ask him to tell you a story, because his voice drowns out all the thoughts in your head

but he's always touching you throughout it

grazing your arms, massaging your scalp, playing with your fingers

anything to remind you he's there

once you're asleep he'd get up to make you cookies

so you'd eat them the next day and remember him by when he isn't around

Seungmin : quality time + words of reassurance

he knows not to push your buttons when you are stressed

so he leaves you be but he keeps an eye on you to make sure that you're still okay and not on the verge of breaking down

but once he can sense that you reached your limit

either because you are bouncing your leg up and down

or your head is now between your hands

he comes up from behind, placing a chaste kiss on your temple

if you hug him tighter then that's his cue that you need a break

and he's ready for it

he orders your favorite meal, plays your comfort movie and brings out your softest blankets

anything to make you feel comfortable

your legs are propped up on his lap and he gently skims his hand up and down them

when the movie is done, he turns off the tv and turns to look at you

"what do you need baby?"

if it's venting then he's there to listen and if you need to get back to work then he hugs you tightly to him, before ruffling your hair

and if you say "just you" then he's bringing you to his chest

he won't move an inch until you let go first

Jeongin : quality time + physical touch

jeongin came home late that day

so when he enters your room he finds you typing furiously on your laptop

and he's like hey! but you don't reply

so he leans from the side to look at you and then he notices how you are crying

your tears are wetting your keyboard and yet you are still typing

so he's panicking, grabbing your hands so you'd stop working

that seems to snap you out of your haze and you look at him, eyes full of unshed tears

he's like "are you okay? that's a stupid question you are not okay"

he just hates seeing you cry and he's always flustered at first when you are sad

but then he pulls you up and leads you to bed

he makes you sit on his lap and you are burying your face in the crook of his neck

"tell me what's wrong baby? is it work, hum?"

his tone is so soft and sweet and it makes you want to spill everything to him

so that's exactly what you do

you are rambling and you're talking about the essay and your stupid boss and then about how hungry you are and again about your essay

and he's just humming and listening to you intently and patting your head gently

when you are done he makes you pull away, before kissing your tear stained cheeks softly

and then he brings your hands to his mouth and he brushes his lips against your knuckles

"let's go for a drive hum? get your head off things"

he lets you pick the music and the destination

and he doesn't drive home until you've fully calmed down

[cartierre]

ICED OAT LATTE | ma11

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU marcus armstrong x fem!novalak!reader (fc: sabrina carpenter)

side note: this is a bit on the shorter side but otherwise it felt like just dragging it out for nothing. there are two twitter threads though so i think that kind of makes up for it?

♡ liked by clementnovalak, marcusarmstrong, screamingmeals and 17,347 others

tagged: screamingmeals

y/n_novalak my segment on screamingmeals "y/n's coffee corner" launches this week! try out different kinds of coffee with me, send me suggestions how you like to drink yours and let's have a little chat together! we're going to start off strong with my all time favourite: an iced oat latte 🧊☕️

view all 82 comments

user1 watch y/n become the next emma chamberlain

user2 i don't like coffee but maybe y/n can come up with a way for me to somewhat enjoy it ⤷ user3 y/n should definitely do an episode on how to get into coffee as a beginner!

screamingmeals we never knew coffee could be so expensive ⤷ y/n_novalak i won't settle for cheap coffee beans

clementnovalak first you stole my best friend and now you get your own corner? ⤷ y/n_novalak go cry me a riverrrrrr ⤷ user4 y/n and clem being siblings, part 1933829

user5 i love an oat latte, but warm instead of cold!

♡ liked by clementnovalak, felipedrugovich, marcusarmstrong and 16,283 others

tagged: marcusarmstrong

y/n_novalak i'm the proudest girlfriend on the planet right now. to see marcus race here in st. petersburg makes my heart bloom. happy indycar debut babes! (psa: giving the coffee a 6/10 because it was overpriced)

view all 72 comments

user6 ugh i cannot they're literally perfect for each other ⤷ user7 i'm so glad clem introduced them to each other

clementnovalak for the record: i am still a bit salty you didn't come to my race this weekend ⤷ y/n_novalak should i hold your hand the next time since you're such a crybaby? ⤷ clementnovalak i'm telling maman that you're mean to me

user8 i never know if y/n and clem are being serious or not with their banter ⤷ user9 i have a brother and lemme tell you we're the same

marcusarmstrong with you by my side, i feel like i can achieve anything comment liked by y/n_novalak ⤷ y/n_novalak stop it i'm getting emotional

user10 *crying in single*

♡ liked by clementnovalak, marcusarmstrong, screamingmeals and 18,293 others

tagged: screamingmeals

y/n_novalak we're going into round two! this time on "y/n's coffee corner" we're going full traditional: we're taste testing the cappucino. a classic. the cappucino shines with a foamy top and lots of aroma. you can never go wrong with it. (spoiler alert: it's not marcus' favourite 😱)

view all 67 comments

user11 y/n needs to start a whole blog about coffee

user12 marcus doesn't like a cappucino? 🚩🚩 ⤷ y/n_novalak that's what i was thinking ⤷ marcusarmstrong i'm sorry

clementnovalak the way you only put a heart on yours and marcus' coffee and i got a blop of nothingness is actually hurting my soul ⤷ y/n_novalak you're always mean to me you don't deserve a heart

user13 i have the same coffee machine! comment liked by y/n_novalak

user14 i'm more of a latte person myself, but you can never really go wrong with a cappucino!

user15 back when i wasn't allowed to drink coffee, my mum always gave me her foam on her capuccino because i was so sad that i couldn't get one myself

♡ liked by clementnovalak, marcusarmstrong and 15,948 others

tagged: clementnovalak, marcusarmstrong

y/n_novalak visiting this dickhead this weekend in jeddah because he cried about me not attending his last race

view all 74 comments

user16 imagine being stressed because you cannot decide whether to visit your brother or boyfriend at different places for races ⤷ user17 she's living every motorsport fan's dream

user18 the lipstick stain is so real. men will never understand.

clementnovalak you made it sound like i begged you to come ⤷ y/n_novalak did you not? your messages say smth else ⤷ marcusarmstrong actually he cried because i wasn't able to come ⤷ clementnovalak that is correct ⤷ y/n_novalak okay since when is it "gang up on y/n" day?

user19 marcus using his free weekend to support clem is so sweet!

user20 i just know y/n was exhausted after a whole weekend with clem and marcus comment liked by y/n_novalak

[onlyseokmins]

$$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!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

Bang!

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 ©

[miri-tiazan]

Fresh from the archives, new unhinged 00Q chatfic!

So, @cicerfics and have been writing unhinged 00Q chatfics and headcanons back and forth in DMs for uh… going on two years now, and it seems like perhaps the time has come to unearth some of these from the archives and dust them off for sharing. Accordingly, here is the very first chatfic we did, inspired by this comment thread on Ch. 7 of cicer’s delightful fic the warmth of your doorways!

tags: omegaverse, mpreg, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, menopause

---

miri-tiazan: Oh God. Cicer. Doesn’t even have to be mpreg but…

Omega Bond going into his first heat in decades and just spontaneously deciding that Q’s flat is the Only Acceptable Location to nest in. They’re not even dating! Bond’s just broken in a few times! Q has no idea why this is happening!

Q just gets an alert from his home security system one day and Bond is There and he’s like, refinishing the window trim in the second bedroom or something. And also he won’t leave. Surprise, Q! You have a roommate, and he’s hormonal! Enjoy your new home improvements!

cicerfics: ...Okay, now that we're talking about this, you know what I'm a little bit obsessed with right now? The entire question of menopause in omegaverse. I don't think I've ever seen an a/b/o fic REALLY explore that concept, but now it's fascinating to me!

Like, what if nesting is a thing omegas only do when they're pregnant OR going through menopause? What if Bond (having never been pregnant) never experienced any of these instincts/urges and thought he was impervious to them? What if he hits 44/45, enters perimenopause, and is absolutely BODIED by the urge to:

a) Acquire a nice house b) Renovate, refurbish, and redecorate it c) Learn to cook d) Start a lil herb garden or something and maybe make some pesto??? e) Acquire a lover/companion to feed up and care for f) Acquire some pets/babies/random houseplants/literally anything that requires his protection and nurturing

Poor dude has ZERO experience with these types of urges. But when they appear, they hit him like a TRUCK. And his own flat is way too cold/sterile/crappy/lonely for proper nesting. There aren't even any cats or quartermasters in there!!

So, yes: one day Q gets home from work and Bond has simply annexed his flat/cats/kitchen. There are already overflowing bags from the hardware store scattered around the flat, because Bond has made up his mind that three different rooms need to be repainted, the bathroom needs a complete reno, and oh yeah, he's replacing the sofa because this one simply Isn't Right. The vibes are Bad. Bond Doesn't Like It, so it's gotta go.

Also, there's pasta sauce simmering on the stove and probably a trifle waiting in the fridge, and the cats are wearing new designer collars.

And sorry Q, but if you didn't want a hormonal new housemate/husband who is going through The Change...too bad. You got one anyway! He's here to stay...and no, he doesn't understand what's happening to his body/mind, either. Good luck, everybody!!

Continued on AO3 here:

00Q Chatfics and Assorted Headcanons (2391 words) by cicer, miri_tiazan Chapters: 1/? Fandom: James Bond (Craig Movies) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James Bond/Q Characters: James Bond, Q (James Bond) Additional Tags: Omegaverse, Mpreg | Male Pregnancy, weird omegaverse hormone nonsense, Menopause Summary: Lightly edited chat transcripts between cicer and miri_tiazan: some live-written fics, some random headcanons, some plot-free fluff, all 00Q!

[starlightsuffered]

I Miss You

Info - shy reader, praise, oral (male receiving), a bit of face fucking, masturbating while giving oral, cupping pussy, cum swallowing

"I miss you," I whined. I wasn't usually this way, but I did. I decided to bare my feelings and tell him how I was feeling.

"Well finally," Timothée chuckled.

"What?" I asked.

"You're so, I don't even know the word for it. Perhaps polite would be the right one?"

"Still don't know what you mean," | said slowly. He had a smile in his voice which quieted my anxiety.

"Well, you're always so benevolent, and sweet. You don't whine because you think it would make me think negatively. Hearing you miss me is..... nice. Am I making sense?"

"I think so," I said with a small grin.

"Like, you're selfless, you always want to focus on me. I like you being needy and desperate-"

"I'm always desperate for you," | interrupted him.

"You know what I mean y/n," he said smugly.

"Yeah I do. I just can't help it! It's only been a couple weeks but fuck I miss your touch and your body and laugh and personality and... was that too much," I ended nervously.

"Not at all. You know I love when you get like that, all rambly and sweet," Timothée swooned.

"Well, I'm glad you like it," I said shyly.

"You really miss me?" Timothée asked quietly after a silence.

"So much," I whispered.

"I miss you too, I'll be back before you know it. Maybe next time I'll take you," he said.

"Maybe," I said gently. He knew so much attention and people would be hard for me. However, being without him was also hard for me.

"I have to go my princess," Timmy said lightly. He didn't know how hard that hit, romantically and sexually.

"Okay baby, please be gentle with yourself and sleep well."

"Yeah," Timothée said. I didn't know if I quite believed him, but I was so tired

"Alright my love," | said. We said our goodbyes and I fell into a restless sleep. I missed his warmth next to me. I wanted to feel his body.

I was awoken by large soft hands. My eyes opened groggily. I didn't believe what I was seeing. I'd never been one for sleep paralysis, but it couldn't be.

"Hello darling," Timothée said with cheer.

"Baby?" | asked with teary eyes.

"My girl finally said he missed me, I had to come home for my weekend," Timothée said and nuzzled his mouth against my neck.

"Ohhhh," I gasped.

"Let me take care of you," he offered.

"No!" I said immediately. I sat up and we almost knocked heads.

"What angel?" He asked. I melted.

"My little princess. My girl, my sweetheart," he swooned.

"I want to take care of you. You've been working so hard," I frowned.

"Well so have you, plus-"

"Please, I need to," | pleaded.

"Okay," Timothée nodded.

I shakily tried to undo the button on his pants. I couldn't believe I was nervous. He was my boyfriend, and yet I was.

"It's okay, I can-"

"N-no," I responded. I wanted my beautiful boyfriend to do nothing. I wanted him to be completely and totally serviced.

I pulled down his pants finally. I slid them down his legs. I was breathing hard. I couldn't believe I got to touch him again.

"Your cock is so beautiful," I said, looking up at him adoringly. He smiled and leaned down to kiss me. I did so longingly.

"You're so beautiful."

"I try to be," I half laughed.

I took his glorious cock in my mouth. The soft velvet covering the ram rod hardness was perfect. I let my tongue flatten as my lips suctioned him. He was moaning.

His long fingers threaded through my hair. He ran them throughout my locks. He finally gripped. I bobbed my head. I was trained by now not to gag on his thick length.

"Good girl," Timothée sighed.

I sucked and sucked desperately. I wanted him to collapse afterward, fully satisfied and ready to cuddle me back to a blissful sleep.

"Oh y/n, oh fuck!" Timothée moaned. He was started to force his dick a little deeper now. I whined around him.

He was used to face fucking me usually, but right now I wanted love and pleasure and romance.

"Sorry," he said. "You're just so good."

I had to stop myself from smiling around him. I moved closer. I was soaked in my panties. I rubbed my clit slightly as I serviced him.

"Oh you're so beautiful, you're so fucking pretty it drives me wild," Timothée said as he watched me.

"Mm, mm, mmm," I gasped around his dick. I couldn't keep quiet with his cock in my mouth.

"You do this so well. You're the best l've ever had. Suck that cock baby," he urged me.

"Mmmmmm," | groaned.

"You're a fucking great dick sucker," Timothée said. I let my hands fondle his ass. I rubbed all over it. He let one of his hands run down and feel my body as well. He finally, cupped my jaw and aided me in suckling.

"Good girl, perfect girl, you're the best girlfriend in the world," he cooed. He was tracing my features and I nearly teared up.

I sucked harder now. I was giving it my all. I smacked and licked and swirled my tongue. I was completely in love.

"Oh, oh, I think I'm going to cum y/n, fuck you're amazing!" He cried. He shoved his dick deeper and his hot semen spurted down my throat. He poured his gift down. I swallowed over and over again. I wanted it all in my stomach.

"Goooood," moaned Timothée. His balls rested on my chest as I gulped all he had.

"You do that like a fucking porn star," Timothée sighed as he pulled his cock out of my needy mouth.

"Because I love you," | replied.

"And I love you," he answered.

He dropped down. He held me close and rubbed my cum filled tummy. He was so possessive when it came to me swallowing his load, he kissed my neck. I felt his softening cock between my cheeks. I was still slick and wet.

As though he read my mind, he stuffed his hand down my underwear and cupped my pussy. His warm hand kept me secure. I could deal with being wet as long as he held my cunt. I fell asleep peacefully. I was so happy.

[lialox]

I read a post and my brain is fried.

There's this person who said yjh decided to regress back for Dokja and compared to him hsy only wrote a novel sacrificing herself.

First of all, both of them should not be compared.

I'm amazed that there are people who disregard hsy's sacrifice and write it with "only" . Her pov and guilt of ruining those worlds isn't mentioned in details doesn't mean it's not there!

Yes, yjh did regress but he was made that way. Iykyk he is a letter from hsy to dokja so in every way he IS going to circle back to him at the end. yjh is hsy's desperation, her yearning to save Dokja.

We all have read the same texts and we know yjh is not that incapable that after 999th turn it'll take him 864 more regression turn to reach the wall again. NO! It happened that way because it is written that way and being a "character" he could not break free of that .

It's his 1864 turn that is unwritten...!!

(ik this is severely non conclusive & controversial opinion. But it is what it is and I do not regret it.)

This is exactly why I have the joongdok tag blocked here.

The sheer hatred SOME joongdokers have towards doksoo (and by extension, yoohankim) is so outstanding to me that I joined this fandom shipping kdj/yjh quite a lot and even enjoyed writing for the ship… but the people of Tumblr have convinced me to hate them forever and never write for that ship again. 😇 

This attempt to “validate” joongdok has the entirely opposite effect and they just don’t get it. I want to boycott joongdok after reading those posts. In fact, I do. Hope they’re happy. 

sigh….

The ORV fandom can be so exhausting.

This whole thing about “hsy only wrote a novel” are coming from people who don’t understand ORV whatsoever.

Yoo Joonghyuk IS a living love letter. 

Han Sooyoung spun the threads he is made up of and wrote every word with her blood. She loved him enough to make a whole person, and in putting herself into her own work, her creations loved him too.

Everything that Han Sooyoung has made loves Kim Dokja. Because the universe was built on her love.

If Han Sooyoung didn’t love Kim Dokja to the extent that she did, Yoo Joonghyuk wouldn’t even exist. 

Arguably, yjh was “only” curious about how there seemed to be more to the story when he was in the 0th round and regressed to discover it. It wasn’t only for KDJ. In fact, it was barely for kdj. YJH accidentally saved kdj in the process of living his life.

Meanwhile, HSY intentionally and deliberately did everything for kdj’s sake right from the start.

If this is a contest about who loves who more, then consider this:

Yjh loves with conditions attached. “I must be by your side.” He is the character that’s meant to reach the reader, you are correct that’s what he is thematically…

If yjh would give up everything to reach kdj, then hsy would give up even that.

Anyways. The argument falls apart since these guys can’t exist without each other and they cannot love without one another. The novel is yoohankim and anyone who tries to remove a part of that equation in “canonverse” is not an astute reader. I do dislike how I get worked up over people who have little to no literacy… 😔 shame on me. 

I understand that other people have different interpretations but this is like reading the bible and coming to the conclusion that we should kill people. Sometimes the writing/interpretation itself isn’t bad, but the people who act on it are. 

Notice how some joongdokers have a problem with doksoo, but doksoo truthers don’t have a problem with the jd ship itself… our problem is with the bad people shipping it instead. Sorry to hear you ran into bad people on your Tumblr scrolling 😔

And sorry it took me a while to answer this, I really had to process it. 🤢 

(Yoohan to each other is a whole other story you can’t be this intertwined and not feel a thing about each other)

[writtenjewels]

I Chose You

Shepard sat at the desk in his quarters, staring at the wall. His fingers were threaded together, his chin propped on top of the joined hands. He wanted his thoughts to drift in the same way the Normandy was currently, floating through space with no clear destination. Joker had been puzzled when Shepard gave that order, but followed without argument.

In truth, they didn't have time for drifting, either by thought or by ship. The threat of the Reapers was looming and they all knew it was only a matter of time before Saren found that last missing piece to start the invasion. They all knew this and Shepard still ordered this down-time. No one questioned him or raised an objection.

Because Ashley deserved this moment of silence.

As commanding officer, Shepard faced a lot of hard choices. He knew when he applied for officer training that he was accepting this burden. He was witness to the consequences first-hand when his entire unit was wiped out by that thresher maw. But even that loss didn't make him feel half as bad as this.

Time had slowed down there on Virmire. Kaidan was with the bomb, ready to go down with it; Ashley was with the salarians fighting for her life. It was obvious only one of them could make it out.

And Shepard chose Kaidan. No, it wasn't Shepard, commander of the Normandy making that choice. It was Jack, and it was that distinction that ate him up inside.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Shepard invited. He finally turned his eyes away from the wall. The door slid open and Kaidan stepped inside. Shepard was going to be sick. The one person he wanted to see most but felt too damn guilty to go.

“Hey.” Kaidan had two mug in his hand. He held one out. “I thought you might need some coffee.”

“Thanks.” Shepard rose to take it, sipping the drink and sighing as the hot liquid slid down his throat. He hadn't realized how cold he was. Kaidan took a sip of his own coffee. “You made a pot just for us?” Shepard asked him.

“Like I said, I thought you might need it.” They both took another drink. Shepard could sense Kaidan waiting for him to speak.

“I have a feeling you didn't come here just to have coffee with me.”

“No,” Kaidan agreed. “I wanted to offer an ear, if you needed one. You've given yours to me more than enough times.”

“I don't know what I can say. I chose you.”

“You had to make a call,” Kaidan reasoned.

“You don't get it.” Shepard set the mug on his desk. He might regret it, but it was fair for Kaidan to know the truth. “I didn't choose Staff Lieutenant Alenko; I didn't choose the valuable human biotic. I chose you. I didn't think about anything else at the time except, 'I can't lose him'.”

Kaidan went stiff, his breath catching in his lungs. His cheeks turned a little pink. The mug shook in his hand. To his credit, Kaidan didn't drop the thing. He wrapped his other hand around it to keep it more steady, dropping his eyes down to stare into the mug.

“I... think I need time to process that,” he said at last.

“Sorry, I—I thought I should tell you.”

“Is that why you ordered this ship-wide moment of silence?”

“Yeah.” Shepard let out the word in a tired breath. Kaidan pressed his lips together in that way he had when he was thinking hard. He stepped forward to place his mug on the table.

“You know, I don't think I would have done it differently, if it was between you and someone else.” The words sent a tingling energy through Shepard's body. His heart beat a little faster. Kaidan cocked his head to the side and gave him a humorless smile. “I guess that's just something we'll both have to live with.”

Shepard stood there still trying to process what he heard. Now he was the one with air caught in his lungs. He wanted to make it more clear what they were both saying, but the words were caught in his throat. He reached for his coffee and took a drink to steady himself.

“I'm going to tell Joker to set a course,” he decided. His eyes met Kaidan's. “Maybe when this thing with Saren is over, we can talk more about this.”

“For that to happen, we both have to make it through,” Kaidan pointed out. “I think, in order to spare either of us from making a tough call, we should do this together.”

Shepard managed something close to a smile. “That I can live with.”

[black-occamy-arts-and-crafts]

Hi!

I adore that wizards tower cross-stitch! Where did you get it? If you made it, do you sell your patterns?

🧙‍♂️

Hello and thank you for the ask! Sorry for answering a bit late - I wanted to make sure I had appropriate images ready 😅

I turned SDV art into the pattern myself and I actually don't have it for sale anywhere - partially because I can count myself lucky in a way I can put money INTO my hobbies not out of it - but mostly because I don't know if what I have would be usable for someone else. I'll describe my pattern-making process a bit to show why 😉

I use Procreate to make them - and that kinda happened because most apps and programs for cross stitch use colour pallette of DMC thread (or something else popular world-wide). However, where I live, DMC is almost twice as expensive as locally made Ariadna thread (granted, Ariadna has about 150 colours LESS than DMC) and it's way more difficult to buy the full pallette too. My perfectionist ass decided that the only way forward is to make something from scratch. Because why not.

I start with importing a PNG of the SDV sprite or image into Procreate. I add grid with 1px size to make it easier. Then, using the imported picture as basis, I create layers for each colour used in the image (sometimes I simplify a little).

Then the colour pallette comes into play - I recolour each layer to match the exact hue I have for Ariadna (I made them myself. Couple days of creating palettes to suit my needs, and that after I bought every shade they have in production right now 🙃). I sometimes improvise a little (because of the limited colour pallette). Once I'm satisfied with the outcome, I name the layer with the number of the colour.

When I embroider, I select layer with the colour I'm currently working with and just count the pixels into stitches. I do a lot of disabling\enabling during that process too.

All that said - I would happily share this pattern if you'd like! I believe sharing it as .psd will retain the layering as expected - but I didn't really try that yet, so it's up for experimenting 😉 I'd be happy to share the palettes as well (they're so pretty...) if you'd like xD

That also goes for anyone else reading this and having a sudden urge to use Ariadna thread and hyper-complex tactics of creating stitch patterns on an iPad! (Yay, hyperfixations!!!)

Let me know if you're interested, we'll figure something out 😁

[rorywritesjunk]

I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. Also, I'm not nice to Buggy when he tries to flirt. I definitely write him as a bit of a disaster when it happens. It's just going to get a bit worse from here. There's a storm mentioned in this chapter and a love confession. A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. A shoutout to @lavalampskyy for telling me about the song "Warm" by Montcrieff because that song definitely influenced me to actually write this chapter and rework some things, so thank you friend! I've listened to it way too much in the last 24 hours.

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness @uhnanix Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 9

Buggy realized he was truly in love with you when you hugged him that day but he didn’t say anything, not yet. He wanted it to be perfect when he told you. He wasn’t quite ready to propose marriage yet either, and the two of you only had one date, sort of, which ended in him embarrassing himself, but the fact that you brushed off the spill and took care of him made him realize that he wanted that all the time with you. There was no one else for him after that.

He just needed the right time to tell you. 

The best time, he decided, was when he brought his coat to you once again one afternoon, a few weeks after the hug. Benji was at the counter, looking unimpressed when he saw Buggy. He looked the pirate up and down before rolling his eyes.

“What do you want now?” The teen asked, sounding bored.

“Benji.” You warned as you came from the backroom. You were trying to get him to be a little nicer to the clients. Your eyes lit up when you saw Buggy and you smiled; he straightened up and held his coat out.

“Sorry.” Benji grumbled. “How can I help you today, sir?”

“Better.” You took the coat from Buggy. “Mm, what’s wrong with it now, Buggy?”

“None of the threads holding the buttons match.” He told you as you hung it up. Benji made a face and went to look it over with you. The thread looked fine to him and he nudged you gently.

“I think he’s losing his eyesight.” He whispered as he glanced back at Buggy. “They look fine to me.”

You shook your head and chuckled. “No, no, he’s right. The shades are just different enough that it can be noticeable.” You turned back to Buggy. “Can I keep it for a few hours to work on it?”

“Only if I can take you out to dinner afterwards.” He said with a grin. You looked a little surprised by that but you smiled and nodded.

“After you pay for the services, of course.”

“I-I was going to pay!” He exclaimed, looking flustered now. “Why wouldn’t I pay?!”

“I’m teasing, of course you’ll pay.” You chuckled as you smoothed the front of the coat out. “I’ll have it ready for our date then.”

Ha! You called it a date. That was perfect. Buggy couldn’t help but feel smug as he winked at you and turned to leave the shop. He shut the door behind him, hoping you didn’t notice several of his fingers got caught in the door jamb and popped off, falling to the floor. He hastily opened the door and collected them before shutting it again. You and Benji watched the whole thing; Benji seemed a little horrified but you just shook your head.

“You’re going out with him?” Benji asked, sounding disgusted. “Why?!”

“I like him.” You told him as you went to go find some thread and a needle. “And he’s very sweet to me.”

“Lots of guys are sweet to you.” Benji pointed out as he returned to the counter. “I don’t get why you like it coming from him though.”

“He’s not like the others.” You shrugged as you set your tools down on the table and collected his jacket. “Now, I’m going to have you help with this, so you have to do it correctly, understand? You can’t mess it up on purpose because you don’t like Buggy.”

“Fine.” He grumbled as he went to help you.

~

Buggy arrived three hours later. He made sure to look his best. His face was clean, his hair was brushed, and he wore some of his best clothes to take you out. He had a bouquet of flowers for you and a basket in one hand. He felt a picnic dinner at the lake would be a good spot. He wouldn’t be an asshole this time, you could see the ducks, and he could tell you that he was in love with you and everything would be perfect. 

He entered the shop and saw Benji and Miss Pins first. They looked up at him; Benji rolled his eyes but Miss Pins looked quite amused to see him.

“So, another date?” She asked. Buggy glared at her as his face reddened.

“What if it is?” He shot back as he set the basket down. 

Miss Pins shrugged, a smirk on her face as looked him up and down. “And dressed up for it as well. You really like our Sunny, don’t you?”

“Listen, you-”

He didn’t get to finish the sentence because you came down the stairs at that moment, catching his attention. He turned to look and his eyes widened. You had a new dress on, one he hadn’t seen before, a pretty light green color with cap sleeves. It fell at mid-calf, the skirt had a nice swoosh to it, and the neckline didn’t dip down too far. There was embroidery around the hem of the skirt, colorful flowers with twisty stems and leaves. Did you make this yourself?

“Your coat is ready.” You told him as you went right past him to grab it from the back. He was just staring at you, speechless for a moment as his brain registered that you dressed nice for him. Benji waved his hand in front of Buggy’s face to get his attention while Miss Pins snapped her fingers. You came back out with it and took it off the hanger, holding it out for him. He let you put it on him, face burning bright red as you smoothed it over his shoulders. He turned around to face you and you tugged on one of the buttons. “All matching threads for you, Buggy.”

He said nothing as he slammed the payment onto the counter and then held the bouquet out to you. Words were escaping him right then because he didn’t know what to say to you. You took the bouquet from him and kissed his cheek before taking them to the backroom to find them a vase.

“Why isn’t he saying anything?” Benji whispered to Miss Pins. She shrugged.

“No clue.”

“S-Shut it, you two!” Buggy managed to hiss as he glared at them. “I’m fine!”

“Are you though?” Benji grinned. Before Buggy could respond you came back out, setting the vase on the table. He picked the basket up and held his hand out to you, which you took before he led you out of the shop and down the road. 

~

Buggy didn’t want to jinx it because so far everything was going perfectly. He had put a blanket down, pulled the food out (something he got from the little cafe you had your first date at), and he even had a bag of seed for you to throw to the ducks. He still didn’t quite get the enjoyment in that, but if it meant seeing how your eyes lit up and the little squeals of joy you emitted every time one quacked at you, then he would make sure to always bring you a giant bag of seeds for the ducks. 

It was perfect until clouds started to roll in. Buggy tried to ignore them, hoping they would just move along to somewhere else so the two of you could keep enjoying the nice weather. 

He cleared his throat and took your hand in his. “I… have something to say.”

“Okay.” You turned to look at him, giving his hand a squeeze. “What is it?”

There was a rumbling of thunder in the distance. No, no, it needed to wait until he could tell you. 

“Sunny, I’m in lo-”

The clouds opened up and the rain came down, catching the two of you by surprise. You gathered everything into the basket before grabbing his hand and dragging him over to a nearby structure to get out of the wet. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden downpour but Buggy didn’t find it funny.

“Why is it every time I try…” He grumbled as he crossed his arms, glaring outwards. You didn’t hear him as you walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. He turned to look at you, still glaring, but you weren’t bothered by it.

“What were you about to say to me before the downpour?” You asked. 

He hesitated. If he said anything else something could happen, like a flash flood or the structure collapsing. And if he said it, how would you react to it? He was in love with you but what if you weren’t in love with him? What if you just laughed at him, patted him on the cheek and sent him on his way? He was starting to wonder if you were just tolerating him at this point.

“I didn’t…” He hesitated, maybe this was a bad idea.

You frowned as you pulled him into a hug. He allowed this, letting his head rest on your shoulder as you pressed a kiss to his temple. This is what he wanted. He just wanted to be in your arms forever and if he wanted that he needed to tell you how he felt before someone else came along and you decided they were better for you. 

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before Buggy finally spoke. 

“I’m in love with you.” He mumbled against your shoulder. You didn’t quite catch that and pulled back from him. 

“Can you repeat that?” You asked kindly. “I didn’t understand.”

He lifted his head off your shoulder and quickly said, “Iminlovewithyou.”

“I… didn’t understand that, Buggy.” You told him, smiling as you shook your head. “Can you say it again?”

He hated that he was hesitant. This was supposed to be some grand proclamation he was about to make, but given his track record of trying to do anything for you, he was convinced something horrible was about to happen. Lightning could strike him before he could speak, or that stupid handsome swordsman would appear and take you away, or what if the ducks suddenly attacked him? 

You touched his cheek, snapping him back to his senses. “Buggy?”

It had to be now or never, ducks be damned. 

He took both of your hands in his and took a deep breath. “I’m in love with you.”

There, he said it. 

Lightning didn’t strike either of you. No one else showed up to take you away from him. And he glanced over your shoulder to see the ducks still in the lake, not charging toward him in an angry horde. You, however, were quiet. That was starting to worry him, but he had to deal with this. You probably didn’t feel the same way. It was stupid of him to even think you would. He let go of your hands, trying to think of a joke to get him out of this now because why would you ever want someone like him? He just needed to tell you he was kidding, that it wasn’t true, just wanted to see what you’d do, but before he could do anything, you grabbed the front of his coat and pulled him close, leaning up to kiss him.

He stiffened, not expecting that reaction. He expected you to push him away, telling him to stop making jokes, that you didn’t feel the same way. Those scenarios played through in his head as you kissed him, not letting him leave yet. Were you waiting to tell him to leave you alone, that you didn’t want to see him ever again after this?

When you finally pulled back from the kiss, you still held onto the front of his coat, not letting him bolt. Your cheeks were pink, you were smiling up at him, and he didn’t know what to make of the twinkle in your eye. He was just waiting for the inevitable.

“I like you a lot, Buggy.” You told him. “And I’m starting to fall in love with you.” There was a crack of thunder nearby and you laughed. “Let’s go back to the shop before we get washed away. I’ll make you a hot drink.”

He nodded fast, head almost dislodging from his body at the speed of the movement. You were starting to fall in love, that meant you were going to eventually. That was better than what he was anticipating happening.

[eustasskiddsprosthetic]

Yuhh so Sabolaw but Sabo is aromantic?

(I'm so sorry if I depicted being aromantic inaccurately! I read 1 article and 1 reddit thread so please correct me on anything!! But back to the narrative!!)

These two idiots first meet in medical school and even though they only knew each other for at most two months before Sabo dropped out, they knew that they were soulmates. They just click in a way even they don't understand.

They find it easy to stare out into the sunset and not say anything. Sabo felt comfortable leaning on Law's shoulder and asking him���a diehard doctor/surgeon—if medicine is right for him.

Law, in turn, would reassure his silly blonde friend that he would succeed no matter where he went. It was a matter of deciding where he wanted to go, when and how. Law was the one to fill in Sabo's drop-out form, except Sabo's signature and press send on the email.

Post Sabo dropping out and swapping degrees, their favourite activity is sending little letters to each other's dorm rooms in university. They write these really long letters detailing how their week went and whatever they find interesting.

Sabo would go on about his new degree and Law would bitch about his uncle. They could just as easily text each other, but they would rather not use their phones too often. Besides, they found letter-writing intimate. It forced Law to keep his handwriting neat.

At first, Sabo thought it was a romantic sort of crush. It was nice because it was the first time he felt such warmth for someone. When Sabo told Ace this, Ace noticed something a bit... not romantic.

He asked if Sabo wanted to kiss Law and touch him sexually and Sabo immediately said no. He got heart flutters whenever Law wrote back but they were not exclusive? It's the same heart flutters when he attended Luffy's highschool graduation or when he picked up an autographed copy of his favourite writer's book... Hmm.

It really is not personal. Sabo tried to reason. Sabo never had crushes on anyone and personally found the concept rather silly. People fall in love? He knew a good working relationship needed more than just that but why did everyone focus so much on... What? Love?

Sabo doesn't get it. He thinks it's strange but he would be upset if Law rejected him. At a certain point, Law said he was pursuing a relationship with someone and Sabo did not feel jealous or scorned or anything like that, really.

"Will we still be friends?" Sabo blurts out. They meet up occasionally. They text for that.

"Why, of course," Law replies easily. "A relationship's just one part of it. It just means I have more to write about in our letters, beyond my uncle and Sora."

"That's good."

Law pouted.

"I mean our letters!" Sabo clarified. Law huffed. Law really hated his uncle and loved Sora and he was afraid Sabo thought he was boring. "Please don't ignore me! I'm sorry for the mixup! Law!"

But on a more serious note, Sabo found that reassertion of friendship more reassuring than he thought it would.

Sabo very confidently concluded the thing he's feeling is a platonic crush. He needed to workshop what it means but he liked the way it sounded at least. It has the intensity of feeling but also complete lack of romance he feels towards Law.

It wasn't romantic but Sabo cared about Law. Law was up there on the list of people Sabo considered important, second to himself and brothers. Sabo valued Law's opinion, not just of his personal character but of everything in general. Law's happiness was his own.

So it damn near devastates Sabo to see that one day, long after graduation when they started working...

It started with an unreplied text. And then an unreplied letter. And then a growing pile of unreplied letters...

They still met up. Law was busy, Sabo knew. Being a doctor was busy enough but a surgeon? Insanity. There was a reason why he dropped out of medical school!! But Sabo supposes something is wrong.

Law looked away more, almost to the point where they barely looked each other in the eye nowadays. Sabo knew Law still listened to him but he would suddenly blush, get jumpy and fuss over stupid things. Sabo wished he knew how to comfort his distressed friend, his precious soulmate whom he would do anything for.

[wandafiction]

Massage And Important Conversations - Just Us Chapter 81

Warnings: Talks Of Safe Sex Practice and Kinks, Brief Mentions of Non Con.

Word Count: 4907

Series List | Chapter 80 | Chapter 82

================================

I'm once again woken up by the light that is seeping through the open curtain, neither of us having closed them yesterday, smiling when I feel the weight on top of me shuffle a little. Looking at the bedside clock and seeing it read 7.27am I decide to get myself up, because I probably won't be able to go back to sleep now anyway. 

I shuffle out from underneath Wanda replacing myself with a pillow and placing a cushion between her legs. I freeze when she mumbles something, her lips slapping together, hoping I've not woken her. When she settles back down I creep over to the window, closing the blackout curtains and plunging the room into darkness. I turn on the small lamp on the chest of drawers adjusting the brightness to the lowest setting.

It's giving out enough light so I can search my draws for clothes but not enough to wake up sleeping beauty. I slip on some underwear, sweatpants and a hoodie before grabbing a piece of paper to leave Wanda a note. 

Morning Princess,

Sorry for not staying in bed with you but I needed to sort the washing out, and make sure everything is cleaned properly. We are off to Banff today, if you feel up to it. It's a 30 minute drive and we can grab some food and have a small walk around. We don't have to stay there the whole day, it is only a small little town. 

Anyway, once you wake up just message me and I will bring you up some pancakes and coffee. 

Love you 

Xxx

I place the note next to her on the pillow so it's the first thing she sees when she wakes up, before I make my way downstairs to sort everything out. I walk into the living room grabbing my airpods out of my bag, connecting them to my phone and finding something to listen to on Spotify. I find one called Spring Cleaning 🌼🌺 and the music choice I know for sure is going to distract me from my task.

Oh well. Hitting play the first song that starts playing is Stupid Love by Lady Gaga and I start dancing my way to the utility room. I grab the washing line that's one end of the room and slide my feet along the floor in time to the music to the other. When we designed this place we made sure there was enough room to hang stuff up inside because we did not want it to freeze outside. I tie off the line on the other end of the room, spinning around and swaying my way over to the washing machine before dropping down to open the door. 

Because they are high thread count sheets I don't risk putting them in the tumble dryer so they go straight on the line, making sure they aren't folded over themselves so they can dry properly. I grab the tie and cloth, walking back upstairs and sneaking into our room once again. My eyes stay trained on Wanda as I shuffle to the bathroom hanging them up on the towel radiator. 

I walk back out walking over to my sleeping princess, leaving a small kiss on her forehead causing her to smile in her sleep. I stroke some hair out of her face admiring her for the moment, my eyes trailing down her bare back to where the sheets pool at her hips. She is tightly holding onto the pillow that replaced my body and the cushion is gently resting between her legs still. I leave a small kiss on her back before moving to leave but a grip on my hand stops me.

"Stay." She tugs on my hand lightly, her voice full of rasp, and I move back crouching down next to the bed to be level with her eye line.

"Hi princess." Her right hand still has a hold of mine so I bring my left hand up to cup her cheeks. 

Her eyes flutter open, causing me to gently bite the corner of my lip at how they sparkle in the dim light from the lamp I forgot to turn off earlier. Her thumb starts tracing my knuckles as we just look at each other, silence engulfing the room around us. After a moment I lean forward pressing our lips together in a small kiss that is easily reciprocated by Wanda. I pull apart licking at my dry lips, Wanda's eyes darting to watch the movement with a soft smile on her face before they move to look back at mine. I hear music playing still, realising I still have my airpods in. I turn the music off and put them on the bedside table.

"How are you feeling this morning princess?" 

"Sore." I huff out a laugh, my thumb continuously drawing circles on her cheeks.

"Thank you for letting me know, but that's not really what I meant. I mean how are you feeling after last night emotionally wise. I know you agreed with everything in the moment, but how do you feel about it now?" 

"It was new, it was wild and it was really adventurous. I really like discovering new things about me with you. You make me feel so safe and so secure." Her eyes search mine for a second before she continues. "I'm not going to lie, I was a little nervous, not like scared nervous. Just trying new things nervous, I don't know if that makes sense. Everything you did to me last night set off a fire within me I didn't even know I had, set off desires I didn't even know I wanted. You gave me the things that I didn't know I needed. So I would like to keep discovering these things with you, if you're up for some adventure." 

"I'm always up for some adventure princess. I'm glad you're okay, it wouldn't have been a bad thing to tell me you got lost in the moment and now you think about it it's not for you. But if you want us to keep trying different things, figure out what makes you...tick...well enjoy the ride. But I think maybe we also need to make a few lists."

"A few lists?" I give her a small nod as I climb onto the bed, my knees hurting from being crouched so long. 

I remove the pillow from beneath Wanda pulling her body back onto mine, her hands instantly slide underneath my hoodie to get to my skin. Her fingers on one hand trace along my abs while her other hand rests under the small of my back. I pull at the cushion slightly raising my eyebrow in silent question. Wanda lifts her hips allowing me to remove the cushion and she places her left leg on top of me while the other remains on the bed.

"Yeah. A few lists. So the first one would be what you know you like, so any positions or kinks that you know you want to do. The next one will be stuff you know you definitely don't want to try or even be considered. And then the third one will be things you want to try but are neither a yes or no until we get to the point of trying." 

"Will you make a list too?" 

"I can. But I will take a look at yours first and we can talk about it, discuss the ideas and then I can just add my stuff onto yours if that makes sense."

"Mhmm. Perfect sense. So last night is definitely going on the yes list."

"Oh yeah?"

"Fuck yeah."

"Okay princess. So you said you were sore?" She nods her head against my chest. "Would you like a massage? I have some oil and that pain relief cream."

"Please." 

"Of course princess. You just stay there, be your perfect little self. I'm just going to grab the stuff from the bathroom. I'll be right back."

"Okay. I love you. Thank you for looking after me."

"I will always look after you. Love you too." I peck her lips before slipping back out from underneath her, putting the cushion back between her legs.

I grab the lotion and cream and make my way back into the room, turning to the bedroom to lock it. Even though we aren't doing anything sexual I still don't want them walking in on a very naked Wanda while I give her a massage. I place the stuff next to her on the, and she turns her head to look back at me with a fuzzy smile on her face.

"What hurts the most?"

"I would say my legs, but I don't think I can feel them." She laughs out while I start to climb on the bed behind her.

"Okay, well I will start with your back just to help you relax then make my way down to your legs because I'm sure once I start working on them you will be able to feel them for sure."

"Mkay. Also the note was cute."

"Ahh so you read it." I shuffle up so my legs are stradling either side of Wanda's waist but not putting any of my body weight on her, not wanting to cause any pain. "I didn't know you woke up."

"Yeah, I woke up when you swapped yourself out for a pillow thinking I wouldn't notice." She huffs out a laugh and I put a little massage oil in my hand rubbing them together to warm it up. "But the cushion was greatly appreciated."

"Only the best for my princess." I shuffle up slowly, placing myself on her bum. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah, I still have the cushion underneath so you're fine."

"Okay just let me know if I need to get off at any point."

"I will." 

I lean down, placing my hands in the space between her shoulders and neck. I slowly and gently start rubbing my thumbs over the skin, only putting a tiny bit of pressure on the area, just above her shoulder blades. My fingers push and pull gently at the skin above her collar bones in time with the movement of my thumbs. Seeing no bad reaction from Wanda I push my thumbs in deeper feeling the tense muscle below it slowly easing up. The moan that leaves Wanda's lips makes me smirk and she stuffs her face into the pillow to try and muffle them as I continue. 

I move my hands outwards so my thumbs and fingers start rolling over her shoulders before keeping the movement going as I move all the way to her neck. My thumbs go to the base of her neck at the back, and I push them into the muscles and I swipe my thumbs up and down alongside the top of her spine. My fingers roll and pull the skin and muscle in the crook of her neck before slowly moving up to join my thumbs where I start kneading at the skin at the base of her neck.

Wanda's body sinks into the bed more as my hands move down her neck and follow the outline of her shoulders blades as I put some pressure on her back using my thumbs, my fingers closed into a fist allowing my knuckles to gently push against the skin. I put both my hands on her right shoulder blade and allow my thumbs to rub gently along the outline feeling for any tension and when I find some I apply pressure rolling my thumbs around the area. 

"Can you fold your arms up so your head is resting on your hands for me Princess?" She doesn't say anything but moves her arms up a little before bending her elbows so she can rest her head on the back of her hands.

 "This might be a little painful because it's a bit more deep tissue here. Just try not to run away from my hand. It will feel so much better once I get this done okay?"

"I trust you." I lean down kissing her bare shoulder, resting my cheek against it to look at her as she tilts her head to look at me.

"I know you do, but when I say it's going to hurt it's going to hurt. Especially when I get to the knots I know are there." 

"Mkay, can you distract me from the pain somehow?" I hum as I sit back up rubbing more oil on my hands before putting them on her now defined shoulder blade where I have more access to the muscle around it due to it being lifted up slightly.

"What about, we start going through the list? I will ask you a question and you just say yes or no."

"Sounds good." I start to apply pressure to quite a big knot I can feel, seeing her face scrunch up as I do so.

"You got to breathe for me Princess, nice slow breathes in and out."

"Mhmm." She lets out the breath she was holding and I roll my thumb against the knot causing her to hiss in pain.

"You okay, you want me to keep going?" 

"Mhmm. Keep going. Ask me a question." I keep my thumb rolling in tight circles, keeping an eye on Wanda's breathing and reactions.

"Okay so we have sort of established this from last night but I still need to ask. Yes or no to a gag?" 

"Yes…" She takes a sharp breath when the knot releases and the tension from that area diminishes and I move my thumb down to the next one. 

"Okay so the use of the silk tie as a gag. Yes or no?"

"Yeah." She breathes a sigh of relief when the final knot by her right shoulder blade relaxes and I move to her left blade.

"What about a gag that is tied around your head, you know, secured on."

"No, I like to know that if I need to I can remove it quickly."

"Okay so we stay with the tie?"

"Yeah."

"Okay so we know that blindfold and handcuffs is a Yes, correct?"

"Corr..ow." She whines when I start to massage on her other shoulder blades, her muscles tensing under the pressure.

"Breath for me and relax." She takes a few breaths as she allows her body to sink back into the bed. "That's it, I'm going to start again now Okay."

"Okay. And yes to blindfold and cuffs."

"Okay. So what about all 3 at the same time?" 

"I think so."

"Should we put that on the maybe list and come back to it?" 

"Yeah."

"Okay, next question." Once I feel the last knot remove from her back I start gently rubbing my hands and some oil all over applying light pressure with the heel of my hands as they move up and down her back. 

"Go ahead."

"So we have discovered you have a praise kink." I smirk as Wanda blushes hiding her face into the pillow. "What about degradation?" 

"Like what?" I continue my gentle pressure on her back as I move my hands up from the base of her back up to her neck next to her spine.

"So instead of calling you a good girl or something it's the opposite and sometimes involves the words slut and whore. Well not just those but you get the jist. So degrading terms instead of praise."

"Mmm no. Big turn off."

"Okay so straight on the no list." 

"Is that okay?" I stop my movements at her question leaning down so my cheek rests on her shoulder again.

"This isn't about if I'm okay with you saying no Wanda this is about making sure I don't cross a line before, during or after sex. I want to make sure I don't make you uncomfortable, hurt or scare you with anything we do."

"You would never hurt or scare me."

"Not on purpose but without these conversations we can't set those clear boundaries that we need. We should have probably had this conversation before the first time I tied you up, but we just always seemed to get lost in the moment. So if you say no. Then it's a no. Someone very smart once said no is a full sentence, and I live by that."

"Who said that?"

"Some actress or something." 

"Okay now can you get back to the massage I was enjoying it." I huff out a small laugh as I kiss her cheek sitting back up and start gently pinching her skin between my thumb and finger making sure it relaxes and is not painful.

"Next question. So you like the strap, yes?"

"Mhmm, I love that thing." I press a kiss to her spine as I slowly move my hands down to the base.

I shuffle down the bed, moving to sit next to her legs instead of on them. I move all the way down to her feet, putting some more oil in her hand before grabbing her left foot. I gently lift it off the bed, her knee bending as her thigh stays on the bed. I move myself so I'm sitting on my calfs and her foot can rest in my lap. I wrap both hands around her foot, my fingers resting on the top while my thumbs gently press into the bottom and start working their magic once more. 

"From what I've seen you like the teasing and foreplay, yeah?"

"Yeah. I know it sounds weird but I really like being riled up and then you doing what you do best with your amazing hands. Like you did yesterday."

"Okay so that's another yes. Choking yes or no?"

"Yes, and you should know because you have done it plenty of times."

"I know I still wanted to make sure." 

I move my hands from her foot up to her calf where I start pushing my thumbs into the tense muscle, slowly pushing her leg upwards, bending it at the knee so it comes to rest against my chest. I change the way my hands are having my eight fingers digging into her calf as I push and pull at her muscle. Her satisfied moan leaves her lips.

"So you like choking. What about if I was to slap you? You know like hit that cute little butt of yours."

"Maybe."

"Okay. I'm moving my hands to your thigh. This is probably going to hurt a bit so I will stop with the questions so you can concentrate on breathing for me."

"Okay." 

I move to the side of her leg gently placing it back down on the bed as I place my hands at the top of her thigh and at the bottom of her thigh. My thumbs resting on the outside while I spread my fingers to rest on the inside. I apply light pressure and hear her take in a sharp breath. 

"You okay." She nods against her pillow. "Breathe for me Princess. In and out, nice deep breaths for me." 

"Oww." She whines into her pillow as she pushes her face more into it as she scrunches.

"I know princess. Do you want me to keep going?" 

"Yeah. You're just going to have to do it and deal with my whining."

"Okay, but tell me to stop and I will." 

"Okay, you can start again."

I start applying pressure with my thumbs slowly dragging them in circles as my fingers push into her muscles and her back arches slightly trying to run away from my hands. Her grip on her pillow turns her knuckles white as she tries to keep her breathing nice and even every now and again hissing in pain. 

I move my hands after a few minutes. Lining my thumbs up with the middle of her thigh at the top, my fingers on either side. I slowly squish her thigh between my hands and drag them down to her knee before changing direction and pushing them all the way back to the top. I do this a few times, small whines and 'ows' leaving Wanda's mouth as I do so.

Once I'm done I slowly take my hands away and climb off the bed so I can do the same with her other leg, once again rubbing my hand with the oil before starting at her feet.

"How are you doing princess?" 

"It hurts but it's more relief than anything. Once you put the cream on I think I should be able to walk." 

"I hope so, we still have to go to Banff today."

"Fuck off. What's the time?" We both laugh at her profanity as I turn to look at the clock.

"9.55am. So plenty of time for you to recuperate and recover."

"Perfect. Okay since you're doing my foot you can ask more questions."

"Okay so we've tied your hands together, what about your feet." 

"Uhm, put that on the to try list. I'm not sure about not being able to move but it also excites me at the same time."

"Okay, so that's a maybe. So what are our safe signals again?"

"Red and three taps means stop."

"Okay, so let's add yellow in there which means slow down and green which means continue. So if you are completely bound I can ask you for a color and you can let me know."

"What about if I'm gagged too?" 

"I will remove the gag to ask you. I will buy a smaller tie so it doesn't take up your whole mouth and you can easily speak around it as well."

"Okay. So like thinner material or not rolled up so many times."

"Exactly. We need to make sure we communicate with each other if we do stuff like we did last night. Of course during the less kinky stuff safe words and being comfortable are still important but you won't be tied or gagged, so it's easier to get someone to stop."

"Okay. So what your saying is we need to go to a sex shop together?"

"If that's what you want."

"We can do it at some point back in New York, I've never actually been in one for anything other than lingerie."

"Well it will be good to see what catches your eye in that place." I move my hands down to her calves, looking at her to see her already caring eyes staring back. 

"Okay so you like the teasing and the foreplay. What about vibrating underwear?" 

"Is it exactly like it sounds?"

"It is. You wear it, I control it." 

"Yes." 

"Okay back to the bedroom. Hair pulling?" 

"Maybe." 

"Spitting?"

"No." 

"Okay what about the use of a vibrator?" 

"As in, you watch me or you use it on me?"

"Let's say both."

"Yes and will need to try it. I feel like if you're watching it's more arousing than if you're on top of me using it, but I would like to try."

"Okay last one because I'm moving down to your thigh again. Is there anything that is a big no from you that jumps to the front of your mind?"

"There is actually." She stops what she is saying to look at me, her eyes searching mine for something, so I place her leg back down and make my way to where her head is, bending down so we are level.

"Go ahead princess. It is important that I know these things." 

"I, uhm...it's." I see tears begin to well up in her eyes and my brows scrunch in concern as I bring my hand up to cup her cheek and wipe a few away.

"It's okay Wanda. This is a safe space. Whatever you say in this room stays between us." 

"No is a full sentence, that's what you said."

"No is a full sentence. What's going on to make you upset?" She shrugs her shoulders as she inhales a shaky breath, turning her body around and moving it up so she is sitting against the headboard looking down at me. I lay a hand on her thigh gently rubbing it making sure to not apply any pressure on the sore muscle.

"I don't want to upset you because it's something that uhm...it's something."

"It's something that you and Vision used to do?" She nods her head, her bottom lip quivering and I move to sit on the bed with both my hands cupping her face. "You can tell me Wanda, I'm not going to get mad at you for talking about past sexual experiences especially if it has allowed you to figure out things that you do and don't like."

"You're not going to get mad?"

"Wanda, baby, my beautiful princess. I am not even going to get close to mad. It's the most important thing to me that you are comfortable and happy with what we do in and out of the bedroom and if you have learnt from past experiences that's okay. You learn these things with different people, I want to make sure I don't cross the line when it comes to you feeling safe. So what did you and Vision used to do that you've realised is something you don't like."

"He used to keep going." I press my lips together stopping myself from saying anything, as her eyes become glassy. "He always used to say come on just one more. And I know that that's what some people are into, but I always just felt like I had to give him it because he was my husband. I just hated it so much sometimes that I would cry afterwards. I would be too sensitive and sore and he would keep going because he was getting close and who was I to deny him that."

"Okay. So you are right some people do enjoy the over stimulation but that's why we have the colors and the three taps thing. Most people avoid using words like 'no, stop and don't' because they are used playfully. So that's why we've set clear and easy safe words. So I will never, never, keep going if you don't want to. You just say red or tap me 3 times and it all stops. You are in no way obliged to keep going just because someone is getting close to their high because that creates a feeling of an unsafe environment. Don't ever think that just because you love someone you have to give in to them, because if you have said no or stop and they keep going it is no longer safe sex. It becomes abusive Wanda, and I know you don't want to hear that but it is true Wanda. If you Told Vision to stop, and it wasn't part of your playfulness, and he didn't then that's abuse. If you tell me to stop, if we've not discussed beforehand that it's something you are going to say in a playful way, then I stop. I will never be mad at you for wanting to stop. You know what you do and don't want and it's important to me that I don't cross any lines or boundaries that make you uncomfortable." 

"I mean sometimes the pain was pleasurable but other times I just wanted him to get off me and give me a break. I never thought it was anything else but him just wanting to keep going. I think because he was my husband I just thought it was him showing his love or something crazy like that. But you have shown me a completely different side of love, and it's truly amazing to see what it's meant to be like instead of what I thought it was." I smile softly at her gently rubbing my thumbs along her cheekbones.

"And that's more than okay. So over stimulation isn't for you, and that's perfectly okay. Thank you for telling me." 

"I've never told anyone that before." 

"I'm proud of you for opening up."

"Thank you." She bows her head and I see a few tears drip down into her lap, before inhaling sharply and looking at me with a nervous smile. "Can we put it on the maybe list?"

"We can, but if at any point you change your mind and want it on the no list it is more than okay to do so."

"Okay." 

"It's just gone 10.15am. Why don't we come back to this conversation at another point, write down what we have now and then finish it off later. We both need food and drinks, and I don't think another bath will do you any harm. Then after the bath we can put the pain relief cream on. Okay?"

"More than okay. I love you baby. Thank you for being so caring and attentive. Making sure that I'm comfortable with what you and I do in the bedroom, or out of the bedroom. I've never been one to explore this sort of thing and you make it so easy to talk about. You make me feel so safe. You are moy chelovek. (My person)." 

"You are moy chelovek too." 

"I love you so fucking much." Wanda places her hand on the back of my neck pulling us into a searing kiss.

"I love you too, so much."

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[moonyswritinq]

How about an enemies/rivals to lovers with the cat king and a male reader? Idk why their rivals, maybe the reader is dog person?? or just REALLY hates cats. You really get as much creative liberty as you want. I'm not very good at requesting pr coming up with ideas, sorry.

cat got your tongue — the cat king x male reader

❝ CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE ❞

SYNOPSIS ➢ You’ve never been fond of cats. The little pests always drove you insane. Which is why, when encountering the bloody Cat King, you are even less happy to be stuck in Port Townsend. What started as distaste for the man slowly turns into him becoming a distraction—a rather nice one that you start looking forwards to.

PAIRING ➢ thomas the cat king x male reader

CONTENT WARNING ➢enemies to lovers, harsh language, hate towards cats (yes it deserves a warning), graphic and explicit gore (the body at the cat king’s lair), suggestive content, kissing, tension, flirting, use of y/n

WORD COUNT ➢10 k

AUTHORS NOTE ➢ GUESS WHO GOT CARRIED AWAY AGAIN? your one and only. sorry this is a bloody bible, and that it took forever to write. this hurt a bit because I love cats, but I also love enemies/rivals to lovers so shjshdjhsj. enjoy!

MASTERLIST, TAGLIST

You sneered at the tabby cat at your feet, kicking it gently off of your leg. It had tried to rub against you, which you knew was its way of marking you and showing affection. It was disgusting and you had half a mind to kick it harder. As if reading your thoughts, a ginger cat, perched on a large throne-like chair in the middle of the room, hissed in warning.

Edwin had warned you that this was a matter of diplomacy and to let him do the talking, and despite your usual favour to physicalities you decided to heed his words. So you merely rolled your eyes and let the cat be.

As your group had entered the building, the length of a warehouse stretched before you, a cat surrounding you from every direction. A group of them dispersed from a throne as you neared it, revealing a half-eaten human body laying before it. The skin around the all too visible bones had been picked off and was seen hanging in thin threads, more a skeleton than a body. Chunks of meat was completely missing in some areas and spilling out of it along with blood colouring the wooden floor—one of its eyes had been dragged out of its socket and probably played with like some toy. The sight of it made your stomach turn, almost to the point of looking away. The others groaned behind you and you heard Crystal let out a silent gasp.

“What’s wrong? Just a bunch of cats,” one of the cats commented, the smart-mouthed bastard.

Your urge to kick it overcame you once again—this time even stronger. Edwin seemed to sense it and held out a hand to halt your step, then glanced uncertainly towards the cat on the throne.

“We were invited to see the Cat King,” he said.

You turned your gaze to the throne to find cloud of purple flames erupting from the throne and then a man sitting in the place of the earlier cat, your own mouth opening in a surprised gasp.

“What? Never seen a handsome man before?” his lulling voice asked, winking in your direction. You promptly shut your mouth with a scoff.

“Can all cats do that?” asked Crystal from beside you.

The man laughed dryly. “‘Can all cats do that?’” he repeated, leaning his cheek on his hand. “Of course not! I’m the Cat King.” His glance shifted between the four of you. “I can tell you’re not the brains of the operation.  Nor the looks. But who is, then?”

One of your eyebrows raised at his question and he caught your gaze, eyes raking over your figure as his smiled widened. The weight of his gaze made heat travel up your neck but you ignored it in favour of letting your face settle into a grim stare. The Cat King seemed unaffected by your reaction—or he chose to ignore it—and merely yawned.

“Sorry, I’m already bored,” he chuckled, turning in the direction of one of his cats. “Which one of them used the magic on you?”

The cat that had spoken before opened his mouth again, nodding in Edwin’s direction. “The scrawny one that just had the nerve to talk to you.”

The Cat King tilted his head and let out a soft, “Oh.” His eyes briefly glanced in your direction again. “Shame.”

Edwin cleared his throat and gestured to the other three of you. “We are the Dead Boy Detectives, we’re solving a mystery—”

“Oh, I don’t care,” interrupted the Cat King. “Using magic on my cats is a total car crash on your part. We…” he paused to stand up, rising to his full impressive height, “should discuss your offence.” His eyes jumped between you and Edwin before taking a step down from his pedestal and uttering the final word. “Privately.”

You felt yourself scowling and then adverting your eyes from him with a swallow of your throat. For whatever reason, you were not sure.

“Oi,” said Charles, drawing out bat from his backpack. “He’s not going anywhere with you.”

Your eyebrows raised alongside Edwin’s and sighed, before he motioned to step aside.

“Charles, come here,” said Edwin and walked away from the Cat King. You followed him together with Charles and Crystal, and once out of earshot he lowered his voice. “Perhaps a conversation is the play here.”

Crystal shook her head at Edwin. “I agree with Charles. Let’s just kick cats until we’re out.”

“Yeah, fuck ‘em,” you chimed in, before shooting a glance at the nearest cat and the thought of lowering your voice even further entered your mind. “They’re all savages, they can’t be diplomatic.”

“Do you two want to end up like him?” hissed Edwin, gesturing to the body behind him. Your glance followed his and again you were overcome by the urge to vomit. He kept talking in a hushed whisper. “Not to mention, cat scratches are like poison to ghosts. There are too many cats here who seem to know that.”

Charles seemed to contemplate Edwin’s words. His eyes briefly flickered towards the Cat King before letting out an already resigned sigh. “I don’t like the look of him.”

Edwin met his eye with confidence. “I am perfectly capable of handling this,” he said.

“So, telling secrets about me already,” said the deep voice belonging to the Cat King. You sent a murderous glare over your shoulder before turning back.

“Quiet bastard.” You rolled your eyes.

You heard his chuckle behind you, being able to picture his smug smile all too clearly. “What can I say? It’s the cat in me.”

“Clearly,” you muttered.

“Am I sensing some animosity?” asked the Cat King, his voice closer than before. You hadn’t heard him walk closer, but again, he was half a cat. You turned to face him fully, raising an eyebrow at him. He was leaning forward with his hands behind his back, a suspiciously innocent expression on his face.

“So, you’re not as stupid as you look,” you said with the ugliest scowl you could muster.

He winced, although you didn’t miss the way his lips tugged upwards. “Ouch.”

“Look, just take care of what you have to do and we can get out of this cat-infested hell-hole,” you said, throwing your arms out in exasperation.

“You don’t like cats?” asked the Cat King. There seemed to be genuine surprise on his face.

“Would I like getting run over by a ten ton truck filled with lighter fluid and then set on fire with me under it?” you retorted. Your voice was dripping with sarcastic poison and you couldn’t help but to roll your eyes. “What kind of question is that? Of course I don’t like cats.”

The Cat King tilted his head. You might have imagined it, but you thought you saw his brows furrow into a slight frown. “Hm. Strangely specific.” He looked as if he was going to say something more but instead he turned his attention to Edwin with an easy smile, as if he had not heard your words even to begin with. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Don’t you dare try any funny business,” warned Charles, holding out the bat threateningly at him.

You saw the Cat King sigh smugly, a last glance thrown your way that made you advert your eyes, before a cloud of purple smoke engulfed him and Edwin and they were both gone. Immediately, Charles tried to rush forward, grabbing hold of nothing. He turned around to the two of you with a desperation you had not before seen in his face.

“Look, calm down, mate,” you started saying, reaching out a hand to hold his shoulder. He slumped against your grasp and met your gaze with the most pathetic look you had ever seen. You led him to sit down on one of the crates, the cats dispersing now that the Cat King was resolving the problem.

“He’ll be fine,” said Crystal, sitting down on the other side of him. “He’s Edwin.”

“You’re right,” agreed Charles, rubbing a hand against the bridge of his nose. “I’m just so used to looking after him it feels strange to not be able to protect him against this cat bloke.”

You continued to rub a hand across his back and said in the most comforting tone you could muster, “If it’s to any consolation, I don’t think the Cat King will try to harm Edwin. Judging by the looks of him, he seems to want compensation in, er, other ways.”

His head whipped towards you with a raised eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

“I, er—”

Your hand halted uncertain in it tracks and you suddenly had trouble finding your voice. How could you tell Charles what you meant without disturbing anything in his and Edwin’s relationship? It would be much easier to let the two boys solve it themselves than crudely spitting out the fact that the ‘cat bloke wants to fuck your mate’. Luckily, Crystal came to your aid by distracting Charles with asking about his magical backpack and you were free to roam the warehouse.

There were no more cats in sight for you to kick your frustrations out on, despite the warning gaze of the Cat King that appeared in your mind would they have been there. For what seemed like hours, the three of you waited for Edwin’s return, filling the time with mindless chatter and recounting past cases and answering any questions voiced by Crystal. Your skin crawled at the eerie feeling of the warehouse. It made you painfully aware of every sound or movement, waiting for the swarm of cats to come back and attack you. You equally dreaded and weirdly looked forward to seeing the Cat King again.

Finally, long after the sun had already gone up and spread its orange glow through the open doors of the warehouse, Edwin returned. The space didn’t make shivers travel down your spine anymore, but felt rather homely with the bright light. You and the others had settled down on a few crates nearby, but by the resounding crack and Edwin’s form suddenly visible through a cloud of purple, you jumped into action.

“Edwin!” shouted Charles, running over to him. “Where have you been?”

Edwin frowned at him. “Only been gone a few moments.”

“No, you’ve been gone for literal hours,” answered Charles, frowning as he tilted his head. “Are you all right, mate? 

You felt the hairs at the back of your neck rise in suspicion as you regarded him. “Where’s the Cat King?” you asked him, looking around as if the man would appear behind you at the mere mention of him.

“Probably where I left him, still scheming or something of the sort,” he muttered and glanced away with clear discomfort.

“And, um, what is that on your wrist?” added Crystal, drawing the attention to the hand that Edwin had raised. Gleaming, a golden bracelet shone on his wrist, the image of a cat eating its own tail. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. Ouroboros. Usually, you enjoyed the symbol, but coming from the Cat King it just seemed like another slap in the face. Especially as it meant you were all now stuck in this damned town. Together with him and his scoundrel cats.

- - -

One. Ten. Twenty-four. Forty-six. Eighty-nine. One hundred. Eventually, Edwin’s count reached one hundred and thirty-seven. One hundred and thirty-seven cats in Port Townsend had been found so far. You would normally say it was impressive for only a few days of searching for cats, but this town seemed to be filled to the brim with them. You would have more trouble trying not to find a cat somewhere you went. God knew how long it could take to count them all. It didn’t help that trouble seemed to be extraordinarily good at finding the five of you, now with Niko within your midst. The stress was getting to you as you stood waiting outside the butcher shop, the bridge of your nose pinched between your fingers and your mind starting to imagine shadows following you out of the corner of your eye.

“One hundred and thirty-eight, one hundred and thirty-nine,” said Edwin from next to you, putting his fingers to his temple. You scoffed and gave the cat nearest to you a harsh glare. It jumped off the fence, after Edwin had counted it of course, and ran off around the corner.

You turned to Edwin. “Better get a hurry on with counting all those cats, mate. They’re everywhere.”

“What do you think I am doing, hm?” he asked, raising an eyebrow defiantly at you.

You gave him a glance over, noting that the book in his hand was not related to the case, but rather to astrology. It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, pointedly looking at the book. It seemed that he was not fully focused on the cat-counting but had other things on his mind—more specifically, other people on his mind. Edwin avoided your gaze with an uncomfortable clearing of his throat, just as Charles came out of the shop, with Crystal and Niko in tow.

“So,” started Charles, bringing his hands together, “Shall we get a crack on with the case, then?”

Edwin threw a brief glance in your direction and nodded promptly. He immediately put the book in Charles’ infinite book bag, ignoring the questioning glance he received from the other ghost. 

“Don’t forget to count the cats,” you said to him. He rolled his eyes and Charles smiled brightly, cocking his head and taking off along the street. Crystal glanced at you as you made to follow, immediately feeling better to be on the move. Niko bounded over to the other side of you, nudging your side.

“What’s got you so depressed?” she asked suddenly.

“I’m not depressed,” you muttered.

Crystal shook her head. “No, but you’re something. C’mon, you can tell us.”

Your glance jumped to the two ghosts ahead of you, making sure they were out of earshot before replying. “I don’t mean to blame Edwin or anything, but I really don’t like being stuck in this town.” Another shadow at the edge of your vision had you craning your neck only to see nothing there. “I just want him to count all the cats so we can get out of it.”

Crystal and Niko seemed to share a look you could not make out the meaning of.

“Why is that?” asked Crystal. You raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, we all want to get out of this place before something more dangerous happens, but you’re in an unusual hurry.”

You sighed. “How do you know I’m not always in a hurry, Crystal? We haven’t known each other for that long, y’know.”

“No, something else is up,” she said, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Niko nudged your side again, piping in. “She’s right. I know I don’t know you that well either but you keep jumping at every cat you see. And in my opinion as a detective, that is very strange behaviour.”

You glared at her out of the corner of your eye, or as much of a glare you could muster to counter her bubbly smile. “Er—great detective work, Niko.”

Her smile widened.

“Fine.” You let out a long sigh, again making sure the dead boys could not hear you. “It’s just— I really don’t like cats. And I suppose the whole Cat King ordeal set me a bit on edge.”

“Huh.” Was all Crystal muttered before she shrugged and said, with as much nonchalance as possible, “Thought the Cat King would have something to do with it.”

You cocked your head in her direction. “And what do you mean by that?”

She shrugged again. “I’m not blind, y’know. I saw the way he was looking at you. And the way you were looking at him.”

“Ooh, do I sense some love in the air?” Niko let out a soft coo.

Your steps fully halted as your brain processed their words. Your surprised gawk turned into a scowl as you stared at them both. Love? Between you and the Cat King? What? Both Niko and Crystal had stopped when you did, waiting expectantly for you to continue.

“What? No. Absolutely-bloody-not,” you bit out venomously.

A deep breath later and your feet started moving faster than before, now wanting to outrun the conversation with the girls. But they matched your steps, albeit with a bit of difficulty,

“Come on, you can’t deny that he was definitely flirting with you,” teased Niko, sending a playful wink your way.

“Perhaps so.” You shrugged. “But I’m sure it was like any other usual game for him.”

“Maybe it was, but what if it wasn’t?”

You let out an annoyed sigh. “Even so, he’s the Cat King. And I hate cats. He literally stands for everything I despise.”

“So what you’re saying is that without the cat part you find him attractive?” Crystal said, her tone frustratingly implying something that was simply not there.

“Wha—that’s not what I’m saying! I—er,” You let out a frustrated groan and ran a hand down your face. “Listen, it doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is that he’s the reason we’re all stuck in this town and that is reason enough to hate him.”

Your feet started moving faster to catch up with Charles and Edwin, thankfully escaping the row of questioning the girls had sent you through. What was even so interesting that they would feel the need to do that? All of it only to find out how much you hated cats, and the Cat King in association. Sure, he had looked at you with a glint in his eye, something that told you of hidden secrets untold, just laying in wait for someone to come and unravel him. And you had felt an unfamiliar warmth against your cheeks, something you hadn’t felt since you first met Charles and he had flirted with you—a crush that you had very quickly gotten over as soon as you noticed the lingering glances between him and Edwin, might you add. But it did not change the fact that the Cat King had trapped Edwin, and the rest of you, in Port Townsend—and that could not change your distaste for him.

“There it is,” Niko suddenly exclaimed from behind you. She was pointing to the large lighthouse in the distance. Point No Point Lighthouse. As your eyes flew to the top, you spotted a woman clad in a white gown climbing the fence.

“Hey,” said Crystal, feet starting to move hurriedly towards it. “Get down from there!”

Before any of you could even think to intervene, she had let go of the railing and plummeted to the water. Your head turned away from the sight when you heard the unintelligible splash of the waves as her body hit it. You dared open one eye to the lighthouse again, afraid that if you looked another human would spawn at the top only to fall to their death. Nothing of the sort was there. Instead, stood only a regular lighthouse, seemingly unaware of the tragedy that just took place.

“What the actual fuck?” you let out in a breath.

Ever so the detective, Edwin got to work immediately, as if he hadn’t just seen a woman take her own life. He started compiling questions to ask the ghosts of the leapers, who now sat at the stone fence facing the ocean. Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted through your leg, causing you to cry out.

“Ow—bloody hell!” You looked down to see the cause for the sudden burning on your leg—a cat. You kicked the thing off of you, glaring at it as it ran away.

“One hundred and forty-two,” said Charles as soon as his eyes landed on the cat.

You looked to where the cat had disappeared—or rather not disappeared, as it had stopped at the corner of the path. It sat there, looking back at you expectantly. It was almost as if it was waiting, and you had a small hunch that it would not go away until you followed it. You let out a deep sigh and started walking towards it.

“Wait a tick, I’ll be right back,” you said, throwing one last glance behind you before following the cat.

“What was that about?” Crystal’s voice asked behind you. You could imagine the receiving shrug Charles gave her before you trudged away.

The longer you walked for, letting the cat lead the way through the winding forestry, the suspicion of where you were heading only grew. And a small part of you, as much as you hated to admit it, was intrigued to what you would find waiting for you. When you reached what seemed to be a lookout point made up of a stone ledge and a low fence surrounding the edge, you let out a deep sigh at the sight of the Cat King. He was laying on his side, one knee up in the air which showed off the skin on his legs that weren’t covered by white socks and a black skirt. His fur coat was open to reveal the golden shirt under it—which was painfully formfitting, as well. A roguish smile played on his lips as his eyes searched your figure up and down.

You scowled at him. “A note would suffice. The cat scratch was unnecessary.”

His eyebrows raised. “In my experience, guys like you enjoy a little bit of rough play, “ he said. He let his legs swing down and he sat up straight. A cat looking at his treat.

Your face twisted in disgust. “‘Guys like me’, what is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m sure you can figure that out on your own.” He sent you a wink. It made you roll your eyes.

“Reckon you should bother Edwin with this instead? After all, he’s the one under your spell and counting your cats,” you said, taking a step forward and crossing your arms across your chest.

“I will deal with Edwin in due time,” replied the Cat King. He stood up to his full height, a tad taller than you, and started slowly walking towards you. “Right now, I would rather bother you.”

You watched him step closer, circling your body with the featherlight touch of his hand caressing your shoulder.

“Figures,” you muttered.

He came to a halt in front of you, one hand still on your shoulder. “Don’t you enjoy my company?” he asked in faux concern, his eyebrows furrowed.

You did not let yourself believe his play. “Not in the slightest.”

“Ouch, I’m hurt.” His hand moved to grasp his chest where his heart was—if he even had one, that is—and turned away from you. You did not miss the playful glint in his golden eyes.

“Sure, you are,” you said rather matter-of-factly. “For what it’s worth, Edwin’s counted one hundred and forty-two cats.”

The Cat King let out a dry bark of a laugh. “There are absolutely not one hundred and forty-two cats. That is not even nowhere close.”

You threw your arms out in exasperation. “Well, what do you expect when you give him such an impossible task?” you said as your glare hardened. “Is this all only to amuse you?”

“Yes.” His head tilted to the side as he seemed to analyse you. A pause. “And it gives me more time with you.”

Your lips pressed together to keep your reply quiet.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” His words flowed from his mouth like velvet and his smile was all too inviting.

“Clever,” you answered, voice dripping in sarcasm.

He shrugged and smiled coyly. “I try.”

When the eye contact became too painful for you to bear, your eyes glanced away into the faraway trees. You could see his proud smirk out of the corner of your eye and it made your frustration bubble up to the surface with a quickness and fierceness that surprised even you.

Your breath came out in one sharp burst as you turned to him again. “Look, this might all seem like one big game for you, but surprise!—it’s not. Being stuck in this mindless town could actually result in real danger coming to find us.” You forced him to meet your gaze with the seriousness of your voice. “We need to leave.”

But of course he could not stay serious for even one second. He simply waved away your words and smiled.“Oh, don’t sell yourself short. I’m sure whatever trouble finds your way you are more than capable to deal with.”

A frustrated sigh escaped your lips. “Your opinion on whether I can handle it or not does not matter. Your opinion does not matter.”

The Cat King stopped in his motion, turning to face you fully. His head tilted to the side, golden eyes narrowed.“If it’s so dangerous for you here, why don’t you just leave? After all, you’re not the one bound to this town.”

“Er—” you began, but quickly shut your mouth. His words made you hesitate. You weren’t about spill your guts out to this complete stranger.

“I would make another ‘cat got your tongue’ joke but I don’t want to be redundant,” he said, still smiling. You watched him walk closer to you, one of his hands reaching to run up your chest before stopping to rest against the nape of your neck. The touch was warm and light, and you hated how you had to stop yourself from leaning into it. Almost as if he could sense your thoughts, he smiled and leant closer so that you could almost count the specks of orange in his golden eyes. “There’s something else that is keeping you here.”

“You’re despicable,” you spit out.

The Cat King simply tilted his head, almost as if in sympathy, before letting his finger run across your lips. “Tell me.”

You were too slow in pulling away from him, and his rough finger made contact. A cold sensation spread over your lips, not uncomfortable but tingling with unfamiliarity. You opened your mouth to spit out another insult but felt the words stick to your throat, like a stubborn mouthful of honey. You were unable to utter them. Instead, as if someone had reached down your throat and pulled the words right out of your heart, the truth tumbled out.

“I—I owe Charles and Edwin my life.”

The Cat King’s eyes widened and his smile turned into a frown.

“Oh, that’s not what I expected.”

As easily as the earlier words had come out, the rest of the truth poured out of your lips as well. “Without them, I would have died back in London.” You took a shaky breath, glancing away from the Cat King’s demanding gaze. “I thought it only fair to help them with their cases and save other lives. Well, ghost lives.”

He nodded, seeming to think about your words. Then, his smile returned, sly as ever. “Hm, and are you sure a part of you staying here is also not because you are intrigued by me?”

You were unable to stop the laugh that escaped you. “By you? Fuck no. By this situation? Slightly. But now I’ve found out you’re only a pathetic man who likes to play games because daddy didn’t give him enough attention as a child.” You walked closer to him as you spoke, a finger jabbing his chest to punctuate your point.

“Okay, wow, a bit hurtful, don’t y—”

“You’re the furthest from any reason to stay in this town,” you bit out. The truth wouldn’t stop. You kept on walking, forcing him backwards. His smile had slipped completely and some part of you felt grimly satisfied at seeing his facade crumble. “I would never fancy the sorts of you. Please get that through your head, you arrogant arsehole.”

“Oh.” Was all he responded with. His face seemed to have fallen a bit, and he was avoiding your eye, but with the usual grimace he kept on his lips you couldn’t be sure. With a wave of his fingers, the spell that had latched upon your lips dispersed into the air without so much as a trace. “Okay. Well, I won’t bother you much more then.”

You nodded numbly, turning to walk away.

The sound of his deep voice halted your steps.“Just remember to tell Edwin to keep counting the cats.”

You nodded again while letting your feet show you the way back. Your mind couldn’t let go of the Cat King’s face when you had told him off. It had felt wrong coming out of your mouth, even though the thoughts had felt completely right while in your head. And you knew they were truthful, thanks to the spell, but even then it had surprised you how much distaste you held for the man. And the simple fact of uttering those words to the Cat King’s face made them turn sour on your tongue. They left a bad aftertaste in your mouth, not unlike when you would forget to brush your teeth in the morning and could practically feel them rotting away.

It made you feel weirdly uncomfortable on the walk back to the others. You weren’t sure on the fact that you did not regret the words, and you weren’t sure if they were entirely so truthful anymore.

- - -

The following days trudged by slowly. Case after case distracted your mind from your earlier interaction with the Cat King, but the thought of it never fully disappeared. Had you been too harsh? No, he was a fully grown man, he could take a bit of criticism.

But despite this, your mind was painfully reminded of him every time you went outside. Before meeting him at the lighthouse, you could spot a cat on every corner of the town, making it remarkably easy for Edwin to get his count of cats into the hundreds. After, there was none to be seen, at all. You thought you had seen the tip of a cat’s tail disappearing around a street corner the other day but other than that, the Cat King had kept his promise of not bothering you—which had apparently extended to all of his cats. Somehow, that bothered you more and even made you miss the creeping bastards.

“Still one hundred and forty-two!” complained Edwin, throwing himself into a nearby armchair. “I’ve yet to see even one more cat since that lighthouse case. How am I supposed to count more cats when I can’t find any more of them?”

Charles’ brows furrowed and he turned to you. “What more did the Cat King say when you met him?”

You had told them of your interaction with the Cat King—well, not the full truth of it. But the barest minimum so that they could get the gist of it. Now, they were all looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, er, that was all, really.” You shrugged. “Just that there were more cats and to tell Edwin to keep counting.”

The answer seemed unsatisfying to Edwin, but there was not much more he could do. He merely shrugged and gestured for Charles to go on with the current case, something about two football players who had been murdered. Without thinking, you opened your mouth.

“I could go talk to him.”

“What?” they asked in unison.

“Yeah, what?” Crystal repeated, her narrowed eyes seeming to scrutinise you.

You screwed your eyes up in frustration, internally cursing at yourself. “I just meant that if there are no cats to be counted we can’t get rid of that bracelet, can we? So, I just thought that if Edwin can’t find any there must be a reason for it. I can go talk to him—to the Cat King, I mean.”

They all shared a hesitant glance.

“I don’t know,” said Charles. “He’s probably just playing another game with us.”

“Yeah,” chimed Crystal in. “I don’t trust him.”

You sighed. “Me neither, but we can either wait and hope for the best before something else comes and drags you back to the afterlife, or we can try to take care of it so we can get out of this town.”

“He does have a point,” said Edwin, head resting in his hand.

Crystal stood up from her seat, nodding in your direction. “Okay, but I’m coming with you.”

“No!” you said, before clearing your throat when she glared at you. “I just mean that you are needed for this case, is all. I’ll be OK.”

Her gaze was scrutinising and you had to fight not to fidget under it. Even though you had no ulterior motives, her glare made you want to admit the ones she obviously thought she could sense in your mind. “Fine,” she finally said, sitting down again.

Edwin gave you a curt nod before looking down at his notebook. Charles held your gaze for longer.

“Be careful,” he said.

You tried your best to send him your most convincing smile, but you had a feeling he wasn’t buying it. “Always am.”

With those words, you turned on your heel and started walking in the direction of the Cat King’s hideout. Your initial impression of it still remained strong—that it seemed very rundown for a so-called King. Now knowing the Cat King, you would have expected something much more glamorous and proper for his home. 

Walking inside the warehouse, you noted that it was shockingly empty. Completely void of any signs of cats and the Cat King nowhere to be found. A small part of you was mildly relieved by the absence of them, but the emptiness filled you with an eerie chill. You picked your way around the space, trying to find any other place he could be hiding. It led you to a door you had not noticed before, surprising considering the intricacy of it. You grasped the golden handle and slowly wedged the door open, peering in carefully. You weren’t sure what you would find, but would rather not be caught off guard.

As soon as the door had been opened, a cat slipped through the small gap, making you jump back in surprise. The red light from the room coloured the floor and after a quick breath, you collected yourself enough to walk through, ready for any more cats who might have been hiding inside.

The first thing you saw was the big glowing neon light on the wall, the crown shining a bright red and a cyan ring surrounding it. It was almost mesmerizing in its simplicity and bathed the room in its colours. The second thing that drew your eye was the half-naked body of the Cat King. He was sprawled back on a circular bed, his legs tangled into the dark sheets and his robe casually hanging off one shoulder. His abs were on full display and it took every ounce of your willpower to ignore the flip your stomach made at the sight and raise your eyes to his face. His was turned away, eyes closed and seemingly oblivious to your presence. It allowed you to drink in every small detail of him under the neon lights, eyes jumping from the heaving of his chest, to the small scar on his lip, to his messed up hair and lingering all too long on the edge between his exposed skin and boxers. The whole sight seemed so perfect to you, you could almost believe it was effortless on his behalf.

“Fucking hell, Thomas,” he muttered quietly to himself, rubbing a hand over his eyes and growling out a sigh.

But then his eyes opened and found you, skulking in the shadows like an uninvited guest. You did not feel far off from some kind of pervert, especially when his display had caused warmth to pool in your gut and your cheeks definitely a shade darker than before. His eyes widened, and before he had time to try to cover up or say something you stepped forward into the light.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb.”

You tried desperately not to let your eyes wander south of his face, but it was difficult. He was the Cat King, yes, which meant he was an arse—and what else you had called him only a few days earlier. But bathed under the light like this and without having said anything stupid, you also realised he was hot. So bloody hot. So you swallowed and stepped even closer, suddenly nervously aware of yourself in comparison to him.

His head tilted and he sat up in a cross legged position, the robe almost falling off of him before he caught it and hung it on his shoulder again. A part of you wished he had let it go.

The Cat King glanced around before answering. “No worries, I, uh—I was not expecting you. It’s usually not this messy.”

Your brows furrowed in question and he cocked his head to the side of the room. It was first then that you realised the room was a fucking mess. Old takeout food had been left around, clothes strewn across the place and a few random cat toys laying around. You hadn’t even noticed it before due to the distraction that was the Cat King. As you met his gaze again he looked at you weirdly, eyes scrunched and brows knit together. It made you want to scratch at the shivers that traveled down your spine, weirdly self conscious under his pinned gaze. Then he shook his head and that easy smile was spread across his lips again. It seemed more empty though, but you could never be sure when it came to him.

“Not that I am complaining. Thought I wouldn’t see you again, so this is definitely a welcome change,” he said, leaning back on his elbows again. His knee was lifted into the air, swaying back and forth the same way a cat’s tail would when it was playing with its victim.

You tried to ignore the scratching at your throat and burning ears, meeting the Cat King’s gaze. “That’s why I came here. You have been avoiding m—us.”

If he noticed your slip up, he didn’t comment on it. He simply sighed and stood up from his bed. “You made it pretty clear you wanted nothing to do with me. So, as long as you are in this town, you won’t see me around.”

You watched him walk around the room, gathering the old boxes and throwing them into a rubbish bin. “I didn’t think that would apply to your cats as well.”

He halted, with his back to you, but you could clearly discern the tension in his shoulder. Then he released a deep sigh and angled his head towards the ceiling. “You noticed, then.”

“Of course, we noticed! Without counting all your cats, we’re still stuck here,” you said, arms crossed over your chest. “Something I don’t think you really mind.”

He tilted his head back to look at you over his shoulder, and right then and there it hit you how beautiful his eyes were. Deep swirling pools of gold, reflecting the neon crown beside him, and holding more secrets than you could ever try to figure out during your lifetime. He smiled, but it was different than how his other smiles were. This one didn’t made crows feet appear around his eyes or dimples in his cheeks. And it seemed sad, almost, in the way it couldn’t reach his dark eyes. It was gone as quick as it had appeared.

“I’ll allow them outside again for Edwin to count,” came his reply. You didn’t know whether to thank him for something he should already be doing or just leave. You settled on the former.

“Thank you. Er, it’s very kind of you.”

He turned back around, tilting his head. “Sure.”

You stood still for a moment, unsure of whether to leave or say something else. You could feel the tension in the air, something hanging heavy between you but unable to place your finger on what. After a moment, the Cat King sighed and plopped himself down on his bed.

“Will you please leave me to my self wallowing in peace?” he asked, a tone of sarcasm lacing his words. “I’d rather not have an audience.”

You didn’t trust your voice to speak for you. Only glancing back at him briefly, eyes traveling over his figure one last time and then hastily leaving the room. You thought you saw him deflate, as if he had been hoping for you to do the opposite of what he’d asked. You shook the thought away.

Finally outside the room, it was then that you could breathe freely and relax, his eyes no longer bearing into you. You could only hope that you hadn’t made a fool of yourself—or if you had, that the image wouldn’t last too long in his memory. The image of him, though, sprawled across the bed, had been seared into your mind and did not seem to be able to leave your thoughts. The way his voice had lowered when he thought he was the only audience to himself, that deep grovel in his voice that had your cheeks warming up instantly. You could almost imagine him speaking into your ear that way, whispering filthy things and pulling your waist closer to him.

You blinked the thoughts away, mildly surprised at the appearance of them. The other part of you knew why they were there and a solemn dread washed upon you. Bloody hell. You were attracted to the Cat King.

- - -

Fuck, he thought. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Why did you need to have gone to see him?

Thomas was humiliated. Every time he had met you, every move of his had been calculated. His outfit, always carefully curated to show off enough of him without being slutty. His hair, styled to frame his face and curled beautifully to make his eyes glow. His smile, ever so roguishly handsome to seem alluring yet mysterious. And his words always thought out before they left his mouth.

But after that afternoon at the lighthouse when he had finally found out how you felt, he hadn’t been bothered to care. And now you had seen him like that; a complete mess. He couldn’t get the image of you standing in his room out of his head, looking as handsome as ever, your head tilted to the side. It was impossible to discern your thoughts through those deep eyes. Had he proven you right—shown you that he really was as disgusting and despicable as you thought? Did you still hate him?

Of course you did. What a silly question. There was no point wondering. Even if he couldn’t read your mind he was quite certain what thoughts would have been running through your head—‘What a mess’, ‘I can’t believe how pathetic he is’, ‘I am so glad to be rid of him’. Your conversation had made it clear to him that you wanted nothing to do with him.

He rubbed a hand across his face, body still splayed across his bed. Gods. You had rejected him and still he couldn’t stop thinking about you. What was wrong with him?

He couldn’t believe himself. Thomas had only thought it a game between you two. Of course, he was infatuated with you, but he would never have imagined that you weren’t enjoying the play between the two of you. Hearing your brutally honest thoughts of him had stumped that belief. However ridiculous that belief had been.

And now—now, he wasn’t sure what to do with himself.

Thomas couldn’t keep wallowing in his den of self-pity, that was for certain. Despite your rejection, he could not let that defer him from projecting his most amazing self. He shook the cat off his lap and rose to his full height, taking in the mess around him. How could he so easily have let you affect him? Who was he kidding, of course he knew how. The moment his eyes had landed on you, he knew it was over for him. That easy smile, your deep gaze, the way you held yourself. How could he not have fallen?

He had done everything in his power to try to win you over—well the only way he knew how. And it hadn’t been enough. He wasn’t enough. The thought hurt him more than he cared to admit. Your rejection hurt him more than he cared to admit.

He had focused so much on you ever since he met you that now he didn’t know what to do. He would return to his usual self and life, he supposed, but he knew his thoughts wouldn’t let you go so easily. When putting together his outfit, he couldn’t help but question what you would think of it—or more important, of him in it.

Dammit. He had to stop thinking about you or he would never be able to go on with his usual life. He had a mission to do and a certain ghost to help. He couldn’t—wouldn’t—let thoughts of you stray him away.

- - -

The thought of the Cat King would not leave your head. Ever since that day, seeing him like that, and coming to the realisation that you indeed fancied him, you had not been able to get him out of your mind. It was infuriating how easy your thoughts returned to him at even the slightest reminder. Even if the sun reflected a certain colour of gold in water, the image of his beautiful eyes would be brought forth.

You were quite sure you had been able to hide your growing attraction for him, though. The Cat King himself had not bothered you any more and the rest of the Dead Boy Detective Agency had not caught on either—what you knew of, at least. Crystal had not hinted at anything more and neither had Niko, and you weren’t sure if you were grateful or disappointed by the fact.

It did not matter, you decided, because you had been fully occupied by the case at hand. The boys were in especial danger from this species of ghost-eating fungus, which made you nervous for their sake. Even though you had not been with them for very long, they had accepted you into their Agency despite you not being dead and you cared for them deeply because of it. You weren’t used to worrying for them, since they were already dead, so this case had been very strange for you. It did not help that the darkening woods seemed especially sinister and suffocating, as if they were closing in on you. You had chosen to walk alone amongst the trees, but you were beginning to regret it.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice said behind you.

You turned, looking into the dim light and seeing the Cat King standing amongst the trees, looking right at you. You weren’t prepared for how heavy his gaze would feel after seeing him that last time in his den, but you tried your best not to let it affect you.

“Er—hi,” you said as indifferently as you were able to.

One of his eyebrows raised. “I thought Edwin would be here.”

Oh. Of course, he was here for Edwin. Not for you. Not that you wanted him to, you had made it perfectly clear you didn’t want anything to do with him. Then why did a pang of hurt suddenly hit you in your chest?

“He was, you just missed him.”

“Ah,” he said with a sigh. Was he disappointed or relieved? “Well, I should go find him, I have to help him.”

Your eyebrow raised. “How could you help him? So far you’ve been nothing but trouble for us,” you said and immediately noticed his crestfallen gaze. Part of you regretted your words, but it was so easy to fall back into your familiar insults.

He exhaled slowly and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Not that it is any of your concern, but I am actually not the asshole you make me out to be.”

You took a moment to let your gaze sweep over him. He was dressed smartly, his outfit outlining his figure as perfectly as ever. His golden eyes shone in the faint light, the sky growing darker with every minute, and you hated to admit how good the light looked on him. The only thing out of the ordinary was his faint fidgeting, his fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt, almost as if self conscious. Other than that, there were no traces left of the man you had seen wallowing in his bed.

The thought of that day brought the picture of him to your mind and you couldn’t help but let your eyes jump down his chest, where you knew his perfectly toned abs were hiding beneath his shirt. At that, you also remembered how good he had looked. You felt blood rush to your cheeks at the thoughts that suddenly rushed your mind and you forced your gaze away from him, trying to smother them.

The Cat King’s eyes narrowed at your reaction, but he didn’t question you further. He stayed silent, letting you speak first.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes widened in surprise, not expecting the words. “What?”

“Sorry for being so harsh,” you said again, meeting his gaze. “I appreciate that you’ve allowed your cats out to be counted by Edwin again.”

His head tilted to the side, not seeming to believe your words. “But as you said before, it’s my fault you’re even stuck in this town to begin with.”

“Are you trying to make me angry at you again?” You raised an eyebrow in mock frustration.

The Cat King spoke the next words quietly, mostly to himself, but it was loud enough for you to catch them. “I’m not sure I could make you hate me more than you already do.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in real confusion. While you may have claimed your distaste for the man earlier, all you could feel for him now, looking at his handsome face, was a warmth pooling in your stomach.

“I don’t hate you,” you said.

“Oh, please,” he scoffed. He rolled his eyes. “I heard you before. Just stop playing with me.”

Your eyes narrowed and you tilted your head in thought. He avoided your gaze, his brows furrowed in discomfort, but he seemed strangely vulnerable in his words.

“I would have thought that the Cat King would love playing games.”

“Not when it comes to my feelings,” he said. “And it’s Thomas.”

“What is?”

“My name.”

“Thomas,” you tasted the word gently, letting the name drip off your tongue. You didn’t miss the way the Ca—Thomas shuddered and looked away at the sound. Could you really have that much impact on him? The thought stirred something inside of you—a strange excitement, of sorts. You took a hesitant step towards him. Then another, and another.

“Please, stop,” said Thomas quietly. He had closed his eyes. Then he added, as if an afterthought, “I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Handle what?” You knew what he meant, but you wanted to get to the bottom of this. The warmth that had pooled in your stomach when you first saw him shirtless had not left you, and you only felt yourself growing hotter by each step you took closer to him.

He let out a frustrated sigh, rolling his eyes. “Are you really going to make me spell this out for you? It’s bad enough knowing you don’t feel anything for me without you tormenting me like this.”

Some part of your heart pulled at his words and the wounded look he was giving you. It led you to let out the words, “How can you be sure?”

“I asked you, remember?” He said it as if it was obvious. “And while your answer was harsh it was quite truthful.”

Your head tilted to the side. You knew what he thought you felt for him, but judging by the fire which flared every time you looked at him, you knew you did not feel the same as before. Every little look he spared your way filled you with warmth and you wanted nothing more than to step into his embrace.

So, you said, coyly, “Ask me again.”

“What?”

“I said, ask me again.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at your words. He must have thought it to be useless to hear your thoughts again, but he nonetheless drew a finger against your lips, the touch soft and warm. You felt the corner of your lips draw into a smile, but kept it from emerging. You met his steady gaze, waiting patiently.

“Alright, this is ridiculous,” he sighed. When you kept silent and stared intently into his eye, he opened his mouth again. “What do you feel for me?”

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened in sync with his. You were not prepared for those words to leave your mouth—you didn’t even know you felt that deeply for him. By the looks of it, neither did Thomas. His mouth opened and closed few times, trying to get any words out—or even any sounds. He eventually just settled with a slight gape to his jaw as he stared into your eyes, the question written clearly across his face.

The secret was out, you reckoned, so no point in turning back. When your lips curled into a soft smirk, he started fidgeting with his sleeve again and looked away furtively. It was adorable how nervous he was. Your hand reached out gently, grasping his cheek and forcing him to meet your gaze.

“No point in denying it now. I love you,” you repeated, gaze jumping between his golden eyes.

Finally, he managed to clear his throat and croak out an answer, “I must admit I am surprised. Sure, I hoped you felt some attraction for me, but love? That’s heavy.” He looked away again from the weight of your gaze.

You shrugged as your smirk widened. “What can I say? Somehow your stupid smile must’ve charmed me.”

That made Thomas’ gaze jump back to you within a heartbeat. “Oh, so it’s stupid now? I thought you loved it,” he said with an easy smile playing against his lips. It was infuriating how good it looked on him.

“Please shut up before I regret ever speaking to you.” You rolled your eyes, beginning to take a step back.

His arm reached out immediately, curling around your waist and pulling him closer to you. His strong embrace did things to you that you were not ready to admit, and you had to fight the nervous exhale that tried to crawl out of you.

Thomas smiled deviously, lowering his voice to a mutter and spoke softly into your ear, “How about you make me?”

His voice made shivers erupt across your skin and you tried not to fidget in his grasp. You pulled away to glance into his golden eyes before letting your gaze jump to his lips. He noted your gaze and his smile widened even further. You were not sure if you could take another of his cheeky remarks and swiftly closed the distance between you. His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, one full of emotion.

Thomas practically growled in your ear as he kisses from your jawline to your collarbone, his hands gripping your waist harshly. You were sure there would be marks there later, but right then and there you could not care less. Your arms made their way across his back and up his shoulders. He groaned as you tightened your grip on his shoulders, then pulled back slightly, breathless. You could see how dilated his pupils were, and the sight practically drove you insane.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since I first saw you,” he whispered, his lips peppering soft kisses across your jaw.

His lips returned to yours, hungry and greedy. It was as if he was a starving man and you were the only thing keeping him alive. His lips left yours, but only for a fraction of a moment before they’re on your neck, kissing you. You arched against him as he gently bit your neck, throwing your head back to give him easier access.

“Thomas—” you let out a breathless moan, his name bleeding from your tongue.

The sound of his name on your lips ignited a new passion in him, as he started kissing your skin more fervently. His lips never left your skin for more than a second, and you would be lying if you said that you weren’t enjoying him immensely.

“I’ve never liked my name more than when you say it,” he said.

You released a breathless chuckle. “I’m sure you love the sound of your own name.”

He pulled back to meet your gaze with an arched eyebrow. “Okay, now you’re just being unfair.”

“What are you going to do about it?” you whispered, leaning closer while a smile spread against your lips.

In a moment, his mouth was on yours again. He slid his hand to the back of your neck, an urgency to his movements as his lips parted yours. He easily gave entrance for your tongue to enter his mouth, the taste of him better than you could have ever imagined. He pulled your hips to his, and he gently bit at your bottom lip. Then, he pulled away again, releasing a deep exhale with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Now, the cat really did get your tongue.”

Your stare was heavy as the dead when you met his eyes. “I will walk away, right now, with no hesitation if you say anything like that again.”

His arms circled you and pulled you even closer, his lips tugging upwards despite your words. “Okay, I’ll shut up.”

Your lips met his again before he pulled away, his gaze furtively jumping around. He seemed suddenly nervous as he struggled to get out his words again.

“I—” he started, before closing his mouth again. You gently pressed your lips against his cheek before he took a deep breath and met your gaze. “I want to say it back. Y’know, ‘cause I do feel things for you. It’s just—”

You smiled when you understood what he was hinting at. “Don’t worry about it. Take your time,” you said, your thumb rubbing against his cheek. He leant into the touch, kissing your palm and almost closing his eyes. “I was not looking for validation when I said what I said, but just so you would know how I felt.”

He smiled at your words, nodding. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

Your lips formed into a smirk. “Besides, it won’t be long before you’re bloody smitten with my charm, either.”

“Who’s the arrogant asshole now, huh?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. 

You sucked in a breath, tilting your head. “I like to think I’m confident.”

Thomas just let out a dry chuckle, before capturing your lips again. He moved slowly against you, savouring the taste. You let out a low groan, pulling him closer and smiling into the kiss. He released your lips for a moment to whisper against them.

“So, you don’t hate cats anymore?” he asked.

You pulled away further to look him in the eye. “Eh, well, I never said that,” you said. He gave you a pointed glare and you opened your mouth again. “But, they might as well grow on me. Who knows? You did.”

His smile was all the answer you needed as you kissed him once again. You didn’t think you would ever get sick of doing that. And neither would he, judging by the way he was holding you so tightly.

Tag list: @a-gay-dumbass @eunxhan @loverclear @shobolanya @edit-me-prettyplease @bookholichany @h3artfili4 @scriblezz @miaxturboto @ghostlyaccurate @bbybnnybee @remussl0vers @yokolesbianism @lost-saints

[deaneverafter]

So, as some of you may know, the Danneel cult was bored in their lives and needed a new target, and decided a few days ago that was going to be me, all because I dared to say that Jensen fans shouldn't put him down to hype up Danneel. Not only does this apparently mean I'm a Danneel hater, but also a Jensen hater and supposedly, what I said never happens. In their little thread, they sat for ages insulting me and calling me names to self-sooth their insecurities, and trying to assure each other that this NEVER happens. They sat there trying to brand me a Jensen hater and a liar, because if you don't kiss up to Danneel AND her fans, you hate Jensen, and because if something doesn’t fit these people's narrative, it didn't happen. So let's delve into a thread of things that didn't happen.

Starting with the original bully herself, x user soldierman89, who sits there all day, picking fights with people to make herself and Danneel look like a victim, then hypocritically talks about "kindness", "bullying" and "stalking". Here's an example: "LEAVE DANNEEL ACKLES THE FUCK ALONE. SHE DONE NOTHING WRONG. She working from home and raising her children alone while Jensen is working. You have a problem with that??? SAY IT TO MY FACE!!!!! 😡😡😡" "Raising her children alone". Um? What is this now from the Danneel fans? Raising children alone means you have no partner sharing in emotional, financial or physical responsibilities. This is not true here, on top of the fact that she has a lot of hired help. So saying this about Jensen, just to hype up Danneel, make her look like a victim martyr saint baddie single mom, how is that not hate? How is it any different than self-proclaimed antis calling him an absent or neglectful father, that he's never home? Also, "say it to my face!", lmao, who does this weirdo think she is? If someone has a problem with Danneel, why should they be obligated to run it by her?

Also funny to see the Danneel culties on the original attack at me bragging "I blocked her long ago, she's a hater" Um? 🤣 Every one of them were first blocked by me for putting Jensen down, objectifying him in the weirdest ways, or being hellers/associating w/ the worst of them. But sure, if it gets them rownie points, helps them work their way up in the mean girl anti Jensen cult, they can pretend that they blocked me for hating on Danneel before I ever even said anything about her or her fans. Get that clout, girlypops, make those moves 👌🏻

Another iteresting thing, mutuals who have unpromptedly in the past talked about thinking Danneel (herself and not her fans) does things to pander to hellers, suddenly act like her biggest supporter and join the pile-on against me for calling out rando "fans", just to fit in with the bullies. I won't name names, out of consideration for the fact that we were mutuals for ages (a consideration they didn't extend to me when they started shading and accusing me), but just interesting behaviour to be noted. Makes you wonder 🫢

Let's continue with other examples of specific tweets by self proclaimed "Ackles fans", but anyone should make sure to check them in the x search bar if they think I'm lying. I've never done it before, but sure, I'd start now 🙄

"While we are all here at the " Jensen Ackles future projects" party I would like to give a special shout out and massive hug of appreciation to DanneelHarris without whom Jensen would never be able to do any of this!" I don't understand this? Jensen is the one who auditioned, networked, got the roles. What is the logic in saying he couldn't do them without Danneel? Why diminish his work like that? I know this narrative that she's puppeteering him and his career is a famous one, but it's also a false one.

"JA fans enjoy JA content and Danneel content." I'm sorry, but no. It's not a requirement to enjoy Danneel content (i.e., give her credit for Jensen’s work) to be a Jensen fan. All that's required is to enjoy his work and respect Jensen as an artist and person (something that seems scarce in this fandom these days). That's it. One doesn't become a hater by acknowledging that he's not a package deal with Danneel. People also aren't Jensen haters for not worshiping everyone around him and their 3rd cousins, twice removed, some random spn coworker who only cares about using his name for clout, etc. To be a Jensen fan, you just have to be a JENSEN fan.

"We have rooted for them with TW, saw the tragedy of Rust, enjoyed BS and TB." Only TW had any involvement from Danneel (because she's married to him). Big Sky and The Boys were projects Jensen worked on, just as Countdown and Vought Rising are his projects. Why is it necessary, then, to treat them like a package deal and diminish his work, divvy up the credit? The Rust tragedy was also something Jensen was involved in, not Danneel, so as sad as I feel for Jensen, what does that have to do with her?

"Love seeing JA golfing and D working on CM projects." Okay, I feel this one doesn't need explanation, but in this fandom, I fear people are allergic to using their brains. So I ask, why as a "Jensen fan" would you act like you think Danneel is slaving away doing hard work, while Jensen is out playing? (Networking, auditioning, etc. Even if he wanted a break, he's surely earned it, but this sentence sounds the same as haters calling him unemployed)

"Omega Jensen is canon Daneel confirmed it", "confirmed that danneel got jensen pregnant", "danneel kept gagging him like jensen stand up omg????" Some comments in the quotes posted by a "Jensen fan" of a video of Jensen and Danneel. Why is this the norm that "fans" are tolerating?

"I mean yes, Jensen 🥰 but look at this mother of 3… Dee is so gorgeous 🤩" Why not just say you think Danneel is gorgeous? Why make it a competition with Jensen to make him inferior? Just compliment her normally, without putting him down?

Of course, then there were all the gross photo ops/interactions at that one con with Danneel, "fans" putting Jensen down and anyone who said that's weird, was called a Danneel hater and "you can't take a joke" or "misogyny!!", by hellers but also by so-caller Jensen fans. Why is it impossible to compliment Danneel on her own? Why is it hate to say that you can compliment her without insulting Jensen? Mind you, this wasn’t in response to anyone saying anything about *Danneel*. People were being hated on for not liking gross "jokes" from *con goers*.

A personal favourite. A response to the my tweet. The tweet I made: "Nope, this false image that's gaining traction due to people's "joking" insults, the idea that Jensen is incompetent and nothing more than a pretty face, that he's not responsible for his own career and that Danneel is the mastermind behind his success... it's getting out of hand". The response, going off about hatred and disrespect towards Danneel?: "Danneel has been working on projects for CM since it’s inception and was EP on TW and is the Producer for the upcoming OTH reboot. She is definitely working, just not in front of the camera. Only a handful of antis show her disrespect. She’s loved in general fandom. See CCWales." The implication being that calling for Jensen to be respected, for him to get his due credit for HIS work and career, is hatred to Danneel? Make it make sense

Stopping Jensen hate can only be bad in someone's eyes if, A, they think Danneel likes to have Jensen be put down, B, they feel she's only important as his wife and the only way to praise her is drag his name into it and compare, or C, they only like Danneel as a ploy to insult Jensen. So which one is it? 🤔🧐 And how do Jensen fans who are only standing up for him against the gross accusations and insults from this fandom, the haters here? It used to be oh, if you don't like Misha, you're a fake Jensen fan. Then, if you don't love the randos from the show, you're a fake Supernatural and Jensen fan. Then, you couldn't be a real fan without worshipping Danneel, and now, you also have to hype up HER fans, even and especially when, they're mocking Jensen. Seems the only person you don't need to appreciate or respect in order to be a "real Jensen fan" in this fandom is......

Jensen