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onlyseokmins · 23 days

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$$60 billion (part 2) • l.s.m.

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

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

The silence is palpable.

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

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

So, you keep talking.

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

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

Or maybe you're just thinking too hard.

"Look. I'm… I'm sorry."

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

"Are you really?"

"… Yes."

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

"I seriously am."

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

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

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

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

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

"Then what did you learn?"

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

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

"Try again."

"Uh…"

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

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

"I'm, I'm sorry!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Partner?"

"Yeah, partners."

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

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

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

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

Then he snarls.

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

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

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

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

Someone wails behind him.

You scream.

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

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

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

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

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

Bang!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't call me that!"

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

"Know your place."

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

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

"I didn't!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I almost lost you."

"But you didn't."

"…I know. And I'm so fuckin' glad."

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

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

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

"Let me help."

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

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

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

"I probably should've just showered."

You shrug. "You still could."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We still need to chat. You promised."

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

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

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

Don't let me down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Y-you know about the bet?"

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

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

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

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

"Known for a while, to be honest."

"Seriously? I thought it was a secret!"

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

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

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

"Against my will, too much…"

"Which means I'm right."

"… I guess you do make a fair point."

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

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

"Like what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But I do."

"Yeah? Prove it!"

Ooh, a challenge.

And one more step closer.

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

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

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

"But…?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that was that.

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

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

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

"You're sure about this?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You look tired, you doing okay?"

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

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

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

"I'll feel better at the border."

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

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

"Jun can take a look at my shoulder."

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

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

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

"Wouldn't be the first time."

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

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

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

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

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

"Greetings, weary travelers."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not true!"

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

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

"It's not like that."

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

"Boring."

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

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

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

"Sounds cozy."

"I swear —"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Did you fit Seok with a new arm?"

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

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

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

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

"So, he already told you what happened."

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

"But…" You repeat warily.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again.

"Where is he?"

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

"Sure."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why was he acting like this?

Did he regret everything that happened between you?

Was something wrong?

Would he shut himself away from you?

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

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

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

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

"Open the door."

Silence.

"Please."

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

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

"As you can see, I'm quite fi —"

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

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

Feathers. Everywhere.

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

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

"Seok, how did… how did this happen?"

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

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

So that's how they hide and reappear.

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

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

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

Desire.

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

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

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

"Get out."

"Seok —"

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

"My own good?"

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

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

"I haven't —"

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

You promised.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Is it a disease?"

"Wish it was that simple."

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

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

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

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

"… Tesla."

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

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

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

He holds his head. "… Yes."

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

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

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

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

"Better than leafy, I suppose."

"Though you are quite… feathery."

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

"You still keep that old thing around?"

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

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

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

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

"… Why?"

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

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

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

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

"Conscious consent and reciprocation."

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

"No."

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

"What? Wh-why?"

"Don't get me wrong, it's —"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"It's —"

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

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

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

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

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

"… You said you loved him."

"When?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And I adore you, my lovely mayfly."

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

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

"Yours?"

"Mine."

"Sucker."

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

"What?"

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

"… Was not."

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

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

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

"And what's on the table?"

"Sixty billion double dollars, of course."

"That so?"

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

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

"Winner takes all?"

"Mayfly, I've always been yours."

"Sap," you laugh again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Because you're a vision to behold."

"Says the one who looks like an angel."

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

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

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

"Beautiful," he murmurs.

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

"May I?"

"Of course."

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

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

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm… yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me take care of you too."

"Are you sure? What about your shoulder?"

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

"I can still…"

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

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

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

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

"May I?"

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

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

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

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

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

"You don't have to —"

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

"Oh, mayfly."

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

"Ah, 'm sorry!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Will it fit?"

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

"I trust you."

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

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

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

"Mhm, mayfly… my love… my mate."

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

"Mine."

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

"Yours."

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

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

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

"I-I love you," Seokmin rasps.

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey, you."

"Hello there yourself, lovely mayfly."

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

"Did that help?"

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

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

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

"What are you —"

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

"But not of this," he rasps.

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

"Oh, aren't you a beauty?"

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

Delicious.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What are you three doing in here?"

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

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

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

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

"Pay up for what?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Should be our next bettin' round."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Very well. Shall we go now?"

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

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

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

"Chan."

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

"Yes, Saintess?"

"Do you regret it?"

"No. Never."

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

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

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

"Do you think this will work?"

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

"Have you ever played chess before?"

"No, what is it?"

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

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

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

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

"What's that one?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

onlyseokmins: April 2024 ©

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

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kingadi97 · 2 months

Text

I want an AU

Where gojo is afraid of something mundane like the dentist. He ate too much sugar to overcompensate for his sleep schedule that now he developed a cavity and has to go to the dentist. Except, he's absolutely afraid of the dentist but if anyone were to question him about it he'll say "I'm the strongest sorcerer alive! Why would I be afraid of something like the dentist?" He'd probably shutter at the word but brush it off. He forces the first years (most likely after a mission) to go out to eat and orders a dessert but his stupid cavity gets in the way of that causing him pain. Megumi would be the first one to notice as he would raise his brow and Yuuji would be the one to ask if he's okay. Of course Gojo would play it off as not a big deal. He'd take another bite of his dessert that's too sweet for anyone else to even want to eat. I mean absolutely LOADED with sugar to the point where it even grosses Yuuji out. He'd let out another yelp of pain and Kugisaki would be the first one to tease him. "Has all that sugar finally caught up to you Gojo-sensei?" He'd absolutely deny deny deny but it's fairly obvious especially Megumi what's going on here. He'd flatly state "He's afraid of the dentist." That response only gets more denial and a shock laughter from Kugisaki and a sympathetic look from Yuuji understanding his fear. Once again that's only met with denial but Megumi would reminisce about his childhood when he and Tsumiki would have to go to the dentist that Gojo would try to put on a brave face initially but as far as that would get him would be the front door. Yuuji being the kind person he is suggests they all support Gojo on his journey to get that cavity fixed. At this point the only two things he's feeling is betrayal and fear.

All 5 of them venture off to support Gojo-sensei on his trip to the dentist. Of course Nanamin was forced to come along because who else but another trusted adult could get Gojo to even leave the school. Nanami would be the one to talk to the receptionist about Gojo's cavity and initially he would be cowering behind the children but who else but Gojo would pretend to play cool as long as there's a woman around. All 5 of them (a very odd looking group of individuals) would sit in the waiting room waiting for Gojo's name to be called along. Gojo would sit there contemplating what to do "Should I teleport far away? Should I blow up this place to the ground? No that would hurt the kids and people inside. Should I use-" His thoughts would be disrupted by his name being called. He's chattering like it's doomsday and he's meeting deaths calling. Unfortunately due to the capacity he's only allowed to bring in 2 people with him.

He would choose Nanami and Megumi of course. Kugisaki would just tease and make fun of him the entire time and Yuuji would be so sympathetic and nice trying to calm him down that it would just ultimately make him more nervous. Megumi hasn't said a single word since they've gotten here (of course he's the only one who knows what Gojo is like in situations like these) and Nanami is the only trusted adult at this moment. He'd struggle to even get on the chair especially with all the tools around. His feelings that would cause all the medical tools to start to float and contort before the assistant or dentist could enter the room. Megumi would just silently put a hand on his shoulder causing him to jolt but slightly calm down. The assistant would help Gojo get on the chair that is before being completely confused as to why thousands of dollars of medical equipment is completely curled up and mishaped. Nanami would've been the one to fill out Gojo's medical records because of course who else would. He marked down that Gojo needed anesthetics before the dentist and the assistant are shoving tools into his mouth.

The tools would begin clattering as they approached him with the mask causing his infinity to spike before turning to Megumi and Nanami that would give him the courage to calm down. After the mask was on and the tools would occasionally float away as the dentist and assistant worked and filled his tooth the operation was successfully completed. Not without of course the side effects of the laughing gas. Gojo would babble nonsense on and on that Megumi had recorded and sent to the group chat. He would walk out loopy with gauze in his mouth and his face wrapped, a smiley face sticker on his chest (that Megumi had put on) and a baggie with medication kids toothpaste and mouthwash (of course) a tooth brush and an advisory to avoid sugary, and hot and cold foods for 3-4 weeks until his filling is completely healed. Needless to say Gojo did in fact tell the dentist office staff he hopes he never sees them again on his way out.

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storiesforftm · 2 months

Note

I saw your post asking for BG3 imagines and I was hoping for a Transmasc reader who just got top surgery getting some love and support from Astarion. I'm hoping to get top surgery soon and am dying to see some sweet nurse Astarion. I'm fine with both SFW and NSFW, whatever you'd prefer!

Thank you in advance!

Oh. My. God. I love this trope 😭 here we go!

Helping Hand - Astarion x Trans!Masc! Reader (SFW)

Warnings: mentions of blood, scars, slight gore descriptions (bloody, etc).

The medics were wheeling me back to my dedicated room, meant for my recovery. I felt cold, but that’s about all I felt. I was pretty numb, and I felt no pain. My head felt woozy, and my vision was distorted. Almost as if seeing double. I kept my eyes closed for the most part, due to the sun coming in through the windows and also being exhausted from the surgery I had undergone.

Astarion was waiting for me, and as I saw his white hair in my blurred vision, I gave him a small smile. I was wheeled into my room, and the nurses talked to Astarion for a little while. I couldn’t hear a word, as all my senses were distorted. The nurses left soon, and Astarion stood by my side.

“Hello, darling, how are you feeling?” He asked me, moving my hair from out of my face. I smiled and gave a small chuckle, and under a woozy influence, I replied, “I’m goooooood.” I heard Astarion’s giggle at my elongated word. “I feel funny,” I said. “I know, darling. It’ll go away soon,” Astarion spoke in a soft voice. Over the next couple hours, Astarion heard me talk nonsense, and I fell asleep for a few hours.

Once I woke up, the anesthetic wore off, and I could feel the pain in my chest. It was as if I had been hit by a boulder. I winced in pain, which caught Astarion’s attention from the book he was reading. “Oh dear,” he muttered to himself. He rushed over to me as quick as he could, and reassured me.

“Everything will be okay, y/n. Don’t try to move too much, now darling.” Astarion went to look for a nurse to tell them I was awake. Some nurses came in, and they explained that I would need to walk soon, just to get some movement in so bedsores wouldn’t develop. I expressed that I was in pain, and they gave me some medicine.

Astarion and a nurse helped me sit up, and get to my feet, which wasn’t exactly painless, but I expected more than what I was subject to. I was standing, Astarion and a nurse holding onto either of my arms. As I looked down, I noticed my toes. That’s never happened before. My chest had always blocked the view. This new view made me feel so euphoric and made me forget all the pain almost, then came the first step.

Left… Right… Left… Right… We walked down the hall slowly, my arms bent like a dragon’s or a dinosaur’s. My breathing was shaky, as each step caused a bit of discomfort. We did this every day for about a week, then the time came for the reveal.

The day of the reveal, I was able to get out of bed by myself, and I had been able to be more mobile, although my arms still stayed in the dinosaur position for most of the time. A nurse came into my room, and helped me get the bloody bandages off, and then, I was standing in front of the mirror.

I hesitated to look at myself, but I wasn’t sure why. Was I scared? Was I soaking in the moment? My life had been changed, and this will have a lasting impression on me for the rest of my life. I took my time to breathe, and then I opened my eyes. I saw the scars first, amazed at how straight they were with the bottom of my pec muscle. They were slightly coated with dried blood, but from what I could see, you could barely notice them.

I breathed a sigh of relief, amazed at the resources people were able to develop. I looked at Astarion through the mirror. He was smiling, almost crying from happiness for me. He had known I wanted this for a long time, and now it’s finally here. Him and I were both in shock, but in a positive light.

“Wow,” was the only thing I could muster. “This… this is me…” Astarion looked at me in the mirror, and placed his hands gently around my waist. “Such a handsome man,” Astarion said, making me blush. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I looked away from the mirror. I was so happy. I tried not to cry too hard, my scars still hurt. Astarion let go of me and watched me through the mirror, and I turned to the side to see how flat I actually was.

I started crying even more. All the dysphoria was gone. The only thing that was left was euphoria, and I was glad to share this with my best friend. My partner. Astarion. Eventually, I had to put the bandages back on, and I needed to rest. Throughout my healing period, Astarion helped me clean myself, he prepared me food to eat, and he helped me change my bandages.

Astarion helped me gain my strength back, and before we knew it, I was my normal self, able to do normal activities. I was able to walk outside without a shirt, and that was when I finally felt peace. I finally felt at home. That summer, Astarion and I swam almost every night. I could finally sleep without feeling dysphoria, and I was stronger than I ever was before. Nothing could hold me back now.

—

A/N: I love this imagine a lot, and I hope you do too! I’d love to have Astarion take care of me after top surgery 😌 I hope you can get top surgery soon!!! Let me know how it goes! :D anyways, I hope this was entertaining! I’m gonna try to work on more dialogue between characters in the future. ♥️ Thank you for this request!!’

#x male! reader #x ftm reader #baulders gate astarion #astarion x ftm reader #astarion x male tav #astarion x tav #astarion x male reader #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #Astarion x trans masc reader #Astarion x male! reader

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aquato-family-circus · 1 year

Text

cw medical/surgical talk, alcoholism

there's never an elegant way to put this but i think about post-game bob's health a lot bc the game obviously doesn't have room to show the effects of quitting 15-20 year alcoholism in what appears to be a Cold Turkey kinda move and i feel like 1) like hell you're going immediately cold turkey my dude I've read the withdrawl symptoms they sound Rough At Best, you get back here and 2) I feel like Bob is going to need. some kind of medical intervention. that man's liver. it is bad.

Bob feels like the type of guy who doesn't want to stress anyone else out about the fact he's got to eventually go to the hospital, especially bc he's like "well I've been sick for years so it's ok if I just don't bring it up while we're trying to clean things up and find Helmut's body and --" but like all his friends. Know. that he's dealing with this.

He's going to get treatment eventually and all his buds are gonna be there for him when that time comes.

man. I can never properly type this post up to properly get to the POINT im trying to MAKE which is more LIGHTHEARTED

so I'm just gonna be blunt bc I want to share my freakin headcanon that Bob gets a successful liver surgery and while in the recovery room he's zonked on pain killer/anesthetics and looking over at helmut like "wow you're a hot babe, you single?" and helmut is losing it.

#cospn2 #alcoholism #surgery #ANYWAYS.

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bonny-kookoo · 11 months

Text

Jungkook

𝓣𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓒𝓪𝓻𝓮 : [How To Trust]

Everyday brings new challenges, new miracles, and new faces into his life. And yours, he decides, shouldn't look so scared all the time.

Tags/Warnings: Hospital/Medical AU, Doctor!Jungkook, slightly aged up!Jungkook, Doctor!Yoongi, Nurse!Jimin, Doctor!Namjoon, Surgeon!Hoseok, mentions of Anaesthetist!Taehyung, blood, medical terms, hospital stuff come on this is a medical au, mentions of panic, mentions of vomiting but not descriptive, mentions of suspected abuse, mentions of actual abuse (mental/physical)

Length: 4.4k words

THERE IS NO TAGLIST FOR THIS FIC!

A/N: Please do not come for my throat if some stuff doesn't make sense. I've tried hard, but I'm not a doctor, and so none of this should be taken too seriously. Treat it like a medical drama. Those ain't real either haha also how big do I have to make the warning that there's no taglist for people to realize there is no taglist

-> Masterlist

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"Do you have a girlfriend, young man?" The elderly hybrid giggles, her owner and husband on a chair sitting close to her bed shaking his head as Jungkook chuckles himself, adjusting the drip for her medication.

"I do not, Miss Yong." He informs her. "With a job like mine, it's a bit difficult." He explains, shrugging. He's got to talk a bit louder so she can hear him properly, but he's positively surprised by her otherwise overall good health. She's way past the typical age where Hybrids are known to decline, after all. A little bit of hearing loss is nothing compared to what he usually sees in hybrids her age.

"Oh that's such a shame." She whines to her husband at her side. "He's such a handsome friend, isn't he? You must go on dates, at least!" She whispers at him, but he just laughs.

"I'm sorry, she can be nosy." Her husband apologizes for her, though Jungkook simply shakes his head.

"No worries. She's completely allowed to be nosy." He charmingly says, making the older woman laugh to herself, her floppy ears just as grey as her hair. "Are you in any pain right now?" He asks her, but she shakes her head, visibly drowsy from the pain medication she's already been given for her fractured ankle. "That's good. I'll go check up with my coworkers on the scans, and then I'll be right back to discuss how we'll proceed from here, is that alright?" He asks, and she nods.

"I've got my company right here." She smiles at her husband who holds her had with an equally warm expression.

When Jungkook walks to the small area for staff to discuss the scans, he can't help but shake his head amazed, Jimin laughing as well. "She's awfully energetic for her age." Jimin grins brightly, clicking away on the computer to find the scans from earlier, Hoseok close by nodding to himself. "To imagine her being almost sixty. Amazing." Jimin smiles to himself.

"The fracture is a bit complicated, and I doubt she'll walk perfectly fine in the future even after surgery-" Hoseok informs, showing Jungkook the scans. "But she'll be fine. I doubt she's going into any sort of competitive sports at her age anyways." He chuckles.

"I've already printed all the forms out for her admission, filled out what I can. I'll just need your signatures and other info I didn't bother to do." Jimin jokes.

"You think she's still high risk surgery?" Hoseok asks, referring to the patient. "Considering her age. I'm a little worried about anesthetics."

"She's got no blood pressure issues or any other health problems we'd usually see in hybrids her age. So no- while I'd love you to stay a bit careful, I don't think she's high risk." He nods. "Taehyung should stand by during the surgery to watch over everything if that makes you more comfortable." He says, and Hoseok nods.

"Right, he's back from break, isn't he?" He chimes up, nodding. "I'll go fetch him then." The surgeon agrees, walking off as Jungkook goes back to the patient as well.

Things like these make him feel proud.

It's not arrogant to assume that he's playing a big part in cases like hers- a 58 year old hybrid in very good shape- things that are becoming more and more common these days. Every new discovery, every new person deciding to study this field, every new medical issue solved, adds to the life expectancy of hybrids. And it's not just them- Jungkook knows that sometimes, discoveries about hybrids' bodies can help humans too.

"Alright Miss Yong, you have indeed fractured your ankle pretty badly." Jungkook nods as he walks into her section in the emergency hall. "We'll schedule you for surgery, but considering your overall wonderful health, I'm not worried." He informs her. "Although I do have to inform you that considering your age there is a basic risk to any surgery present." He says, especially towards the owner and husband, who nods.

"That's only logical." He nods, since his wife seems a bit sleepy. "So how long will she stay here?" He asks, and Jimin sneaks into the room, preparing everything to have her transported to her room.

"It's not clear yet, but it'll definitely be until the end of the week at least." Jungkook informs him. "But Doctor Jung will give you a more detailed insight on what's to come from here on." He tells them both.

"Is he as handsome as you?" The lady asks, and Jimin can't help but snort a laugh.

"Oh, even more so, I'd say." Jungkook jokes, and everyone laughs.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

Jungkook has given an oath to protect life, and he's aware of that- but he hopes whoever's up there above makes an exception for him when he has to commit a murder in the next few minutes.

"You better have a real good reason to ping me out of my bed at 3 in the fucking morning.!" Jungkook growls under his breath, walking into the staff room where Namjoon seems to have already been waiting. "The ER is empty- so is my bed, when I should be in it! Why am I here?" He whines, changing out of his clothes and into his scrubs- his shift is gonna start at 5 anyways, so it won't really be smart to go back home after whatever is going on that needs his attention so badly is done.

"Trust me, I hate ringing you out of your sleep." Namjoon sighs, as he slides a clipboard towards the young doctor, who slips on his shoes before he takes it to read over it. "Take a good look at it, and tell me what's fishy about it." He asks, and Jungkook adjusts his glasses, reading through all the medical jargon written down in handwriting he used to be unable to read.

"Are you trying to test me here?" Jungkook asks annoyed, though he keeps his attention mostly on the clipboard, moving page after page to find what his friend and coworker seems to be hinting at.

"No, I'm serious." Namjoon questions, crossing his arms.

The seriousness in his voice makes Jungkook focus a bit more, looking through everything when he flips a page back and forth. "Wait, that doesn't make sense.." He mumbles to himself, and Namjoon seems relieved that his best friend has seemingly found the issue as well. "How the hell does one get stabbed three times 'on accident'?" Jungkook questions, shaking his head. "On the thigh, too?" He wonders, looking at Namjoon in front of him.

"Owner said the patient had 'moved around' while he tried to remove the butter knife, forcing it back in twice." Namjoon offers, and Jungkook scoffs.

"Come on, stabbing someone with something as dull as a butter knife is already pretty impossible to achieve." The young doctor questions. "But really? And anyone believed him?" He wonders, looking through the vitals once more.

"Read the name again. The owner's, not the patient's." He asks, and Jungkook's eyes widen.

"Jo Dongsun? So that's why they're just gonna shrug it off?" He asks. "Cause he's an actor?"

"Probably." Namjoon sighs, walking back to take a sip from his cold coffee on the table. "But that's not.. entirely why I pinged you." He says, peaking Jungkook's interest as he's finally awake and alert enough, fully back in work-mode. "The patient- poor thing is refusing any up-close treatment, has to be put on local anesthetics, and you know that's not ideal." The young doctor says, walking out the door with his friend at his side, walking back into the ER. "And you've got a hand for things like that. Maybe you can try and make her feel more comfortable so we won't have to medicate her this much?" He asks, and Jungkook nods.

Hybrids are pretty sensitive to most human medications- their bodies still being studied, many side effects still being explored and explained. But until they're understood to the degree that the world understands the human body, they have to work with that they have- and adjust everything else. It's why people like Jungkook are so vital to today's medical system- he's talented in creating solutions for problems no one else would think of, keeps his studies up to date, and is most of all compassionate and kind even to the wildest of patients.

He's also got a certified degree proving his top knowledge when it comes to hybrid care specifically. It's why Namjoon had even proposed the idea to everyone to move you into Jungkook's care instead, though some aren't really on board with it, considering his rather.. wild attitude so to speak. He won't back into whatever the man will try and tell him happened- he will try and get to the bottom of this, no matter how much impact that guy has.

If he has to ruin a career to save a life, he will.

"I'll do my best. If it's a domestic abuse case she's probably pretty terrified." Jungkook mumbles more or less to himself, before he seems to arrive at the corner you're hidden in, curtains giving you some privacy. He doesn't know what to expect, really- even though he's read all of your data, everything he needs to know about your physical and mental state- he still won't know what he's dealing with until he goes behind that curtain.

And nothing in the world could've prepared him for what's behind that said curtain, as he pulls it back and catches his first glimpse of you.

He knows you.

Jimin is currently rushing from left to right with gauze, trying to stop your bleeding when Jungkook shows up. "I assume Namjoon filled you in?" He asks distracted, and Jungkook nods.

"Yeah. How's the bleeding?" He worries, watching how another nurse hangs up a bag of blood to prepare a transfusion to make up for the blood you've lost.

"Those two here-" Jimin points at the ones he's talking about. "Are alright for now, they're deep, but this one right here definitely hit one of the bigger blood vessels." He explains, exchanging the gauze again. "It just won't stop." He hisses to himself.

"Alright we've got the blood here already, which is good because that blood pressure is not making me happy right now." He says, taking control of the situation and nurses standing by for any sort of demand. "I want you to stop any medication you're using to keep her unconscious right now so we don't have her drop any further. Have we got any scans of the wounds yet?" He asks, and Jimin nods.

"She came back from CT a few minutes ago, they should be back soon." He says a bit distracted, hissing to himself when the wound starts bleeding as soon as he takes away the gauze.

"Where's her owner?" Jungkook asks, and Jimin's face shows all he needs to know.

"I'd say too worried about the potential scandal than here." He scoffs. "But trust me I'd rather deal with him than her careworker demon in the waiting room right now." He says.

"Let me guess, elderly woman, sour attitude and dark lipstick?" He asks.

"You know her?" Jimin wonders, fixating a bandage.

"Met them both a week ago I think? Already got a sense something was off.." He wonders. "Gives me a good chance to check on something though. Can you hold her turned a bit, I want to get a look at her tail." He asks the senior nurse, who nods, gently turning you on your side for his friend to look at.

He feels around at the base, all the way down to the tip of your tail, deep in thought.

"What're you looking for?" Jimin wonders, closely paying attention to your vitals as they slowly change, your consciousness returning very slowly.

"Proof." Jungkook simply states. Considering you're above the age of 21, he can't just lean on the help of the law for hybrid abuse- you're too old for that, and your category is too low as well. So the only way he can get you out of this situation, is by providing undisputable proof of present neglect or abuse.

"You think it's abuse?" Jimin wonders. "That's a big claim to make, Jungkook. That guy could ruin your career and future with a snap of his fingers."

"So can I." Jungkook himself simply says. "I want an X-ray of her tail, full side and length." He offers. "And as soon as she's back up, ping me."

"Did she break it?" Jimin wonders, carefully adjusting you back on your backside.

"Not today-" He says, taking his clipboard with him. "-but in the past, at least four times."

"that's not uncommon for canine hybrids." Jimin softly argues. "they knock their tails into things constantly." He claims.

"I'm aware." He nods. "But her tail's ice cold down the sixth vertebra. And that's exactly where she caught it last time I saw her- which means she didn't see anyone for it until now." He mumbles the last part to himself, running off to check with someone else he knows and trusts-

leaving a confused Jimin behind.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

"I could give you options to at least file in for neglect." Yoongi quietly mumbles, looking at the X-rays and scans. "Though if you spin it smart, you could argue about her past medical history being proof of something going on as well." The young man nods, reading the charts on the clipboard. "How do you know her?"

"Met her last week. She'd gotten her tail caught in those automatic glass doors, complained over numbness in her legs right after." He sighs. "Her caretaker was what bothered me most. She wasn't at all interested in her health." Yoongi nods at that, giving the clipboard back.

"Well-" He softly speaks, getting up to adjust something near the patient's bed, before he sits down again. "-I'm not in the position to tell you not to get attached to her." He responds, his gaze on the female feline hybrid in the bed, monitor beeping in a steady rhythm, soothing his mind a bit. Yoongi has been at her bedside ever since she was admitted- no owner to take care of her, instead in government care. No one knows exactly why he of all people is so attached to her, visiting her every day at least once- but it's a well known fact to everyone that he loves her dearly.

Even though, if they have any memories together, she won't remember any of them even if she ever wakes up.

"But I have to remind you that you're playing against a huge name. This will cost you your entire career if you fail." Yoongi says, and Jungkook nods.

He knows this. Going against a name as big as him will put him into the public eye as well- and considering that he doesn't have any foolproof evidence yet, he'd be dumb to actually try and involve authorities at this point in time. No matter what, this isn't as easy and cut-out as he wishes it would be.

"Do what you're paid for, for now." Yoongi reminds him. "Look after her, make sure she recovers, get her back on her feet. As soon as you leave this building, leave her here as well."

Jungkook sighs defeatedly, nodding. "I'll check up here before I go tonight." He says, nodding to the hospital bed behind Yoongi- but he only shrugs, before Jungkook get's pinged back to the emergency room where you're still placed.

⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅

When he arrives, he can already hear the commotion from behind the privacy curtains.

"I have a right to be here, she's just being dramatic!" The familiar voice of the lady calls out, and Jungkook feels like he wants to turn and go the other way. But instead, he listens to Yoongi's advice, and enters the small section where you're being treated. "You! Put your workers in line here, I've been verbally assaulted just for checking up on her-" She argues, Jimin ready to snap at her.

"Miss- okay, let's calm down everyone, this is not helping her at all right now." Jungkok tries to solve the small fight between an angrily glaring Jimin and the older woman currently huffing in anger. "I kindly ask you to move to the side please so I can properly assess her, if you don't mind." He asks, but she crosses her arms.

"You can just squeeze past me, what's the big deal? I thought you've already done that, you've had her here for ages after all!" She huffs. "We've been here four hours almost, for a simple accident! This is ridiculous!" She yells at him, but he's not at all bothered by it.

"Miss I will have to get you removed if you're going to hinder me in doing my job." He calmly responds, noticing how you lean into Jimin's body, something the nurse notices as well as he masks gentle comforting touches as things such as adjusting your gown that you've been given. It's another clue that something's off- the way you're moving away from her, technically a known and familiar and usually comforting person, instead leaning towards a stranger in something scary as a hospital with all its sounds and smells.

"You can't make me do anything." She threatens him. "Who do you think you are? Fresh out of medical school and thinks he's something better! Are you even old enough to work as a doctor?!" She claims, and Jungkook simply sighs, opening the curtains a bit.

"Can I have security here, please?" He calls out, a nurse close by picking up a phone to call for them, while the woman is successfully triggered by his actions.

"Come on, up. We're leaving." She snaps at you, reaching to rip out the delicate tubes connected to your arm- but Jungkook steps in instead, putting his body in front of her so she can't reach you.

"Miss, I can understand this is stressful, but you're being unreasonable." He argues as gently as he can. "I can't let you take her in this condition."

"You're gonna hear about this!" She seethes as security leads her away. "Have fun playing doctor while you can.!" She hisses, being escorted away while still arguing.

Jungkook sighs, and so does Jimin.

"…m' sorry." You mumble quietly, and Jimin immediately looks at you gently.

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, sweetheart." He reassures. "Let's get you properly sorted out now, okay?" He tells you, and you nod.

"How are your legs doing, hm?" Jungkook asks, and now you seem to properly look at him for the first time.

"Oh." You simply say, only realizing now who he is. He looks a lot different than last time- his bangs are brushed back and revealing his forehead, and he's dressed in a more formal-casual style, with black slacks and a light brown button up, the first few undone. It's like he's suddenly aged up five years at least, but he doesn't seem unfriendly or intimidating at all, even though you can see the muscles underneath his skin work as he rolls up his sleeves.

"I look a bit different, don't I?" He chuckles, walking closer. "Are you in a lot of pain right now or is it manageable?" He wonders, and you finally seem to settle down quite a bit.

"Just a bit." You quietly answer him. "And my legs are okay." You explain. "Just.. feel a bit like I'm gonna be sick." You worry towards Jimin who's busied himself with petting one of your ears. When he hears this, he gets a small paper bowl ready just in case, and Jungkook nods as he checks all the vitals.

"Hm, your blood pressure is still a bit low so that might be why you feel a bit nauseous." He reassures. "We'll get some more fluids in for you, you're pretty dehydrated. Do you drink enough water during the day?" He asks you, and you shrug. "Don't know?" He chuckles in sympathy, aware that you might still be a bit dizzy and foggy in the head from everything going on.

"What's too little?" You ask him softly.

"Well, I'd say everything below maybe five glasses in a day?" He says, and your eyes widen.

"That much?" You wonder, looking at Jimin at your side.

"A lot of people forget to drink during the day." The nurse reassures. Jungkook however, can't help but dig deeper.

"Doesn't your owner make sure you drink enough?" He wonders, and you shrug.

"Don't see him much." You mumble. "He's busy. I mostly stay with Miss Hwang, and she doesn't really pay much attention to what I eat or drink." You say, watching how Jungkook steps aside to let a nurse hang up a bag of IV-fluids.

"Hm, I see." He nods to himself.

"Am I in trouble?" You ask suddenly, ears pinned down.

"For what would you get into trouble for?" Jimin wonders next to you.

"Cause I used the phone without asking." You offer them. "I just got scared. I know it's not allowed for me to used it.." You say, and Jungkook exchanges a glance with Jimin.

"No, you're not in trouble." Jungkook reassures. "Who said you can't use the phone?" He wonders, though tries hard not to show his inner worry.

"My owner and Miss Hwang. Cause I'm a hybrid, and I'll go to prison if I do." You say.

"Can you tell me exactly what happened today?" Jungkook asks, pulling a chair closer to sit on it next to where you're laying.

"We had Dinner, Dongsun and uh, miss Hwang and I." You recall, looking at your hands. "I.. we had pizza." You describe, seeing the scene in front of you again. "And I wanted- I asked Dongsun for a piece of his and he said yeah- and usually he doesn't share with me so I got excited." You explain; looking at Jungkook as if to convey that you're sorry about whatever happened. "I knocked over a glass on the table, and it spilled on his phone I think- so he got angry, and I think he just wanted to hit the table, but he- I think he just- he just didn't see that I was sitting too close, probably, maybe- and-" You ramble now. "I don't know, I don't think I remember it right, I think I just got scared and made things up in my head." You stutter, Jimin gently rubbing your shoulder in reassurance.

Jungkook can sense something wrong here.

"Do you do that a lot?" He asks. "Make stuff up in your head when you're scared?" He questions, and you shrug.

"Dongsun says I do. Hybrids do that all the time, he says." You explain to him. "So I- Miss Hwang and Dongsun will know what happened, really. I- you're a doctor right? Why do we do that?" You ask, and Jungkook can't give you an answer.

Because there is none. Whatever world-view and twisted facts you've been fed until now are simply bullshit.

"What.. happened in your mind?" Jungkook carefully asks, as Namjoon enters the small space. "Like, what do you remember happened?" He wonders.

"Dongsun got really angry. He gets angry often, because I'm stupid." You explain casually, making Namjoon's face twist into one of pure confusion. "He was surprised for a second when he accidentally hit my leg with the knife. But then he.. I don't know, it was like he.. snapped. And so he did it again, and another time, until I ran away and hid in the bathroom." You say. "In my mind it looked like he was hurting me on purpose. So I ran off, and- no wait, I didn't run into the bathroom, it was the bedroom. Yeah. I made a mess there- Dongsun has a really pretty white carpet there, I got into trouble once because I accidentally dropped a glass of juice on it.." You drift off.

"Did you call the ambulance there?" Jungkook questions, and you nod.

"That's where I used Miss Hwang's phone that was on the bed." You say, and it confuses everyone for a second why her phone would be there- but they don't think about it for now. "Am I gonna get put into jail now?" You ask, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, absolutely not sweetheart." He shakes his head. "You did a great job calling for help. We'll take good care of you, and make sure you'll be alright, okay?" He asks, and you nod.

"I think I might be sick.." You mumble ashamed at Jimin, who quickly reaches for the paper bowl to hold for you, another hand holding your hair away from your face.

"Why is her blood pressure still so low?" Namjoon wonders more quietly to Jungkook, who'd just stood up as well, arms crossed.

"Maybe an underlying issue undiagnosed." Jungkook mumbles, watching you. "Maybe drugs. I'm gonna have them do a urine test for common birth control and hormone blockers. I've not got a good feeling with her whatsoever." He lowly tells his coworker. "I know domestic abuse when I see it, and right there-" He looks back at where you're laying back down with the help of Jimin, another nurse walking in to tell him something, "-is a hybrid who's been conditioned into believing that she can't trust her own judgement, and that she has to abide by everything her owner and caretaker say." He tells Namjoon, walking out of your hearing range for a moment. "Hell- they told her it's illegal for a hybrid to use a fucking phone, Namjoon, that's cult-shit!" He hisses.

"Yoongi has told me you're suspecting something like that." The emergency doctor shakes his head. "Hearing the little that I did, I'm honestly on board with you. But we're not law enforcement. Jungkook, our hands are bound- she's above age and below category for us to use any of the safety laws in this case." He reminds the younger doctor.

"I know." He sighs, defeated. "Fuck, I know."

"Let's make sure she gets the treatment she needs for now, alright? Go one step at a time." Namjoon tries to reassure his friend. "For now, you've got medicine on your side. She can't be taken home in this condition, no matter if her owner wants that or not. Currently, she's legally in our care, until she's deemed healthy enough to go back home." He reminds his friend, who nods.

"I guess that's all the time we get." He worries, watching as everyone walks around, Jimin exiting your little space to talk to another nurse standing by.

And for the first time in a long while, Jungkook knows he'll go against Yoongi's advice, and take his work home tonight.

Your fearful gaze haunting him in his sleep.

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #hybrid imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook imagine #bts jungkook x reader #bts jeon jungkook imagine

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vvagustd · 11 months

Note

hello! i was wondering if you could write a part 2 for your moonjo fic “admirer”, i really enjoyed reading it, especially your portrayal of the reader and how she didn’t let herself be a victim and gained the upper hand on him. would love to see how a second part will turn out and if they’ll reveal their true intentions to one another and end up together or not. and it would be interesting to read how moonjo reacts to that last part of the fic as well. perhaps, you could make the reader have a dark character just like him? only if it’s not too much trouble ofc. also i hope that you have nice day or night :)

thank you so much for the request! i'm so glad you liked the fic, i need more moonjo lovers

i apologize in advance because i struggled trying to figure out how to continue it 😭

☽ admirer pt. 2 - seo moonjo

[seo moonjo x reader]

synopsis - after y/n catches moonjo, he sees her darkside

warning! blood, slightly spicy content, moonjo

link to request

"How did you figure it out, admirer?"

Moonjo was surprised, but not as much as he was turned on. He liked this dark side, the twist on the sweet, ordinary girl he spent his days pining for.

"You learn a lot from months of watching someone." You slid off the pristine white counter and set the scalpel down. "Now, mind telling me why you were about to kill me?" The atmosphere seemed to grow thicker as Moonjo thought about his answer. The anesthetic in his hand was weighing on his conscience, the question still remained.

Why? Why was he about to kill her? Was it because she was a detriment to the Eden Residence, or a detriment to him?

"I- I don't know." Moonjo muttered.

"Do it."

His head shot up in surprise as you stood leaning against the counter.

"What?"

You stood up and walked toward him. Leaning up, you got close to his ear. "If you were heart set on killing me, do it."

"Fuck." Moonjo groaned. He smashed his lips against yours in a needy, passionate kiss. You had waited so long for this moment, the love of your life with his lips against yours. There wasn't anyone else you wanted, and there wasn't anything you wouldn't do to get it.

Your hands slid up his torso while his dipped under your shirt. You finally had what you so desperately wanted, what you both so desperately wanted.

He pulled away and leaned into your ear. “Jump, jagiya." He whispered. He kissed and bit at your neck, catching you mid jump and placing you on the countertop, your hands roamed everywhere, longing to feel him as much as you could. Your knee lightly brushed against him, making him let out a whimper as he buried his face in your neck.

"Mr. Seo?"

Moonjo quickly pulled away and adjusted his shirt before opening the door. "Is it important?" He bluntly asked before she could talk. "Patients have been waiting for a while, are you done with this client?" She moved to peek behind him as he moved to block her view. "I'm sure Ms. L/n was just leaving." Moonjo cleared his throat as you stepped out. Turning back, you waved with a smile, which he returned. The glare and attitude from his receptionist didn't go unnoticed.

---

The night had fallen and Moonjo was finally done with his shift. He desperately wanted to talk about what had happened earlier and get to know more about you.

"Hello, Moonjo!“ He whipped around at the sound of your voice, caught off guard. You ran up to him and wrapped your arms around his torso. The colorful Seoul lights illuminated him beautifully, complimenting his tired features as he gave in and rested his chin on your head

Moonjo's attention was caught by something glittering on the side of your neck in the lights. He tilted your chin.

..blood?

"Did you hurt yourself?" He asked. "Did I-? Oh! No, I didn't. It was just an accident.“ You reassured with a smile, using your sleeve to wipe it off.

"I've been meaning to tell you about what happened." Moonjo lowered his head and you knew exactly what he was talking about. You wanted to forget about it, but you also wanted to know the reason why the man you loved wanted you dead.

"The truth is, I was scared, Y/n. You scare me." That definitely wasn't the answer you were expecting. You were expecting him to say he hated you, or that you did something to offend him. But scare him?

"You make me feel things I've never felt before. You make me feel wanted and happy, you make me feel warm inside and I can't explain it. But you felt like a threat. These feelings felt like they would endanger my family and everything I've ever lived for, and the people in Eden mean so much to me. I knew it was a mistake when I brought it out because YOU mean so much to me. I couldn't lose you."

He was being so open and genuine with you, you loved this side of him. You just loved him.

"I love you so much, Moonjo." You laughed, bringing him into another kiss. ---

You were at breakfast the next morning with Moonjo, laughing and sharing food together when he got a call.

"Hello? This is Seo Moonjo.

Oh?

Oh, she did. That's a shame.

Ah, yes. Thank you, goodbye."

You looked up at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

"My boss called to tell me my receptionist just quit. They found a letter." He said, placing his phone down.

"Really? How strange."

#fanfic #moonjo fic #stalker #strangers from hell #moonjo x reader #moonjo #seo moonjo #kdrama #hell is other people #lee dong wook #lee dongwook x reader

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inky-the-artist · 1 year

Text

cw: non-graphic gore, caretaker whump, stoic caretaker

the whumpee is already in horrible pain, but to relieve them or save them, the team has to do something even more painful. I'm talking dislocating a joint to get out of restraints, pouring antiseptic in a huge wound, pull glass shards or bullets out of their flesh, stitch them up without anesthetics, you name it.

the team sort of counts on the stoic member to take care of it and they do step up to go through with it, but their entire body tenses up even more the mere moment they kneel down to the whumpee. the exhausted, sobbing whumpee, who is already laying on the cold ground, almost unconscious but awake enough to feel everything. they're eyeing the teammate with sheer terror in their eyes, and if looks could talk, it'd be begging the teammate to just not do the thing that they're about to do, not now, they wouldn't be able to take it.

teammate grabs the tool needed for the procedure and lays their now trembling hand on the skin near whumpee's wound, preparing both of them for what's about to happen. they feel their breath get faster and every sound going distant for being overpowered by their own racing heartbeat. everyone watches them, losing precious seconds.

"jesus fuck," teammate suddenly drops the tool and leans back as if something startled them. "i can't do this. i'm so sorry, i-.. i can't do it. please."

#whump prompt #whumpee #caretaker #stoic caretaker #injured whumpee #shot whumpee #whump stitching #whump writing #whump tropes #whump ideas #whump scenario #caretaking

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i-cant-sing · 2 months

Note

Another funny dental story for you: I had to cut a deal with my dentist to get my wisdom teeth out. The deal being it had to done via local anesthetic, because there wasn't an anesthesiologist. He got to the last wisdom tooth and when I signaled for too much pain, he tapped the area next to the tooth asked "can you feel this?" When I said yes, he went "well,,, it's halfway out so...." and proceeded to rip the tooth out with no more anesthetic :) its super funny in hindsight but wowza

Look, im ngl.... but there are times that dentists do shit like that and it's okay to do it too. Have I done it? Yes. Has anyone of my patients been traumatised or even complained for not stopping? No. In fact, even at the times when I did stop because it was necessary, patients have asked me to just "rip it out". Ma'am you'd a pop a vessel and die if I continued😭

Look, in my clinical experience of what- barely 2 years??? I've observed that it takes A LOT to actually kill a patient by a dental procedure. None of my patients have died. 2 of them have fainted, but that was because of fear and hunger.

Yall would think I'm doing a comedy show with how I'm talking to my patients when I'm pulling out their teeth. My trick is to talk so much about everything and anything so that they're too distracted to even register the pain (which in most cases is just pressure) before pulling it out, maybe do a happy dance when the tooth comes out whole instead of in pieces.

The patient is happy, I'm happy, my supervisor is confused and my friends are laughing. But guess who's did the most extractions among them all? Me.

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teenandbeyond · 9 months

Note

I've noticed your predator/alien franchise doesn't have anything for xenomorph. Let's change that lol. Could I get something that has a similar storyline like the one that says dark reader on it the one where the reader is obsessed with aliens.. It's made me curious tbh

Xenomorph x Dark. Reader

Mx. Anonymous, you read my mind! I was wondering when someone would request this! And you don't need to apologize, since it's fanfiction, we're just gonna say eff reality for a moment (even though the whole thing is fictional...but you get it).

Want more from me, my Infinites (I'm trying out a follower name thing lol. I'll probably shuffle through random ass names until one works)? 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆☆*: .｡. .｡.:*☆

👽Discoveries👽 (Aliens)

Warning(s): Dark Fic (dunno if it came out as dark as I wanted), Non-con details, unprotected, triggering(?), size difference, I don't know where I went with this (this is what happens when I write parts at different times, I guess)

Sometimes experimentation leads to temptation...

✨✨✨✨✨✨

"You're crazy, [Last Name]!"

You tapped the end of your pen against your lip in thought before smiling, "Maybe, but crazy gets better results than normal. Ask any of the greatest geniuses, they'll tell you."

You were labeled as the crazy scientist because you suggested cross breeding. Between Xenomorph—or Aliens, the term used for common folk—and humans.

'It's impossible!'

'It's wrong! Don't you have any morals?' they cried.

'You want to talk to me about morals? Ha! Who are the ones who take creatures as they please and experiment to their heart's content, past what's necessary, simply for nosiness and fear of not knowing everything?'

You always shut them up any time they felt a need to comment on you.

"Sometimes the most impossible things can be made possible," you muttered as you scribbled something in your many notebooks dedicated to this theory.

You could admit you were pretty obsessed with Xenomorphs, you found them fascinating. You studied them with a passion.

You wanted one...and the opportunity came when a group of scientists arrived with a captured Xenomorph.

They were studying it to come up with a defense against them, you, among a few other scientists decided to spectate.

And all hell broke loose.

Turns out, someone from the group had gotten infected. You had to figure that out when a man's stomach burst open.

There was panic as the other scientists fell victim, until the newest creature was contained.

The two aliens were to be stored away since the team leading the experiment was now dead, until someone else decided to take it over.

That was your opening.

You took the fully grown one to your private lab, where everything was already set up.

The huge cylinder it was in was a little heavy, but you made it work. You pushed a button that would release an anesthetic-type liquid into the fluid the creature was summered in.

Once it was confirmed to be unconscious, you released it and properly restrained it, tail and all. You loved risks, but not when the result could stop your experimenting from proceeding...you can't test things if you're dead.

"Now...let's get your vitals connected to my database..." you tapped away at your screen until the patches and machinery you'd connected to it did their job, "There you are...and you are a very healthy Xenomorph."

You went through a few experiments of merging DNA samples, but something was missing. You couldn't figure out what it was.

You were disturbed from your deep thoughts by a pathetic escape attempt behind you.

"Oh, you're awake. I should introduce myself," you approached the alien carefully, "I'm your caretaker. And you're all mine for the time being."

It continued to struggle, hissing at you as you calmly took off your lab coat and put on gloves.

"Now, for a physical examination..."

Your hand slowly trailed down the alien's head and jaw, raising a brow as its struggle turned hesitant.

You heard a rumbling sound from its throat, the mouth covering muffling it.

"So...you aren't completely adverse to touch, hm?"

Then you explored its shoulders and arms, you trailed lower to its sides.

"Everything seems to be in order so far...You really are a beautiful specimen..." you sighed in fascination.

You were mesmerized and edging towards getting aroused.

And the alien could smell it, it was reacting.

Visibly reacting.

You smirked, "Oh...well, look at that. I've made the discovery of a lifetime."

So much research had been done, but never have sexual organs been found on an alien. But you supposed it wasn't common for someone to show arousal in their presence.

"Standing at attention just for me...What should I do with you?"

You were absolutely breathless.

But who could blame you, you were stretched to your limits. And there were still quite a few inches of it that didn't fit inside.

There was some defiance at the beginning, but this alien would just be the next being to know you always got what you wanted in the end.

And the hotter you got and the louder you got, ashamed defiance turned into lustful acceptance.

You balanced on your hands best you could, your feet also supporting you, but they were beginning to become less reliant the more they curled.

Its skin felt cool and smooth, a stark contrast to your heat and muscle. It made you shiver in the best ways as you slowly slid up and down.

"I think I might—keep you."

You were becoming more obsessed by the minute, perhaps your rationality was being manipulated by the smell of sex and sweat.

Or maybe because the alien tried and failed to keep itself quiet, sensitive to your every move.

A cute little virgin it was.

All yours to use as you've wanted. You could possibly get a sample once you were done, see if it gave different results.

Everything was in your control, until it wasn't.

The alien decided it'd had enough of your slow pace.

It thrusted up in quick strokes, making your body move so quickly it looked like it was shaking.

With a groan, your nails dug into its arms, then you gasp as it breaks out of its restraints.

For a moment, you think it'll attack, and it does.

It flips you under and bullies itself back into you, forcing in every inch.

A brutal attack that leaves you trying to catch your breath.

With a growl behind its mask, it pummels into you.

With fascination, you feel the bulge it creates and swear you can see it, but you're a little disoriented right now.

Your vision flashes from the pleasure and pain, your body is tingling.

"You—You're my discovery to keep," you grin.

#xenomorph #alien vs predator #alien franchise #aliens #alien fucker #dark reader #dark fic #alien dark fic #smut #lemon

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anviree · 1 month

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Tbh my top surgery process feels so lonely and that's the worst part of it. I've been planning for it for more than a year. I've been the one making decisions on my own. I've been saving for it. (Thankfully, my parents are totally open with supporting me for logistics, recovery and stuff, that's great, but they are also kind of shit at moral support.)

This is overall a positive thing, it's something I've wanted, that I'm not getting out of crippling dysphoria, but to feel even prettier and accomplished.

But I feel like everyone I'm talking to about it just wants to have nothing to do with it. Either positively by being very happy for me and disengaging as if it's so very private and intimate that they have no business talking about it, or kind of negatively by treating it as something that is very grave and heavy and that if I want to talk about it they're here.

I have no one to talk about it in a mundane, optimistic kind of way. No one to plan things with. No one who I can look at the bill with, wonder if I should've taken the double room at the hospital, be happy that the secretary was nice to me, wonder what kind of anesthetic they will put me under, what kind of pillow I need to buy for recovery, no one who hypes me up and who I can do happy dances with when the surgery is in two weeks and no one who's there to make silly jokes about my boobs being gone soon.

This IS a positive step in my life, but it's STILL something that is unknown and kind of scary because I've never done it before.

And I kind of feel like I'm doing it alone, and I shouldn't.

#me #top surgery #trans

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eric-the-bmo · 8 months

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I'm going to talk about my WoD headcanons, except I only know two of the games and I don't know them well, so some of these might clash with canon:

VtM:

[note: I'm excluding headcanons that would be considered spoilers for my vtm character, since my fellow players follow me on here]

Vampire bites tend to have a similar effect and feel to anesthetic and other numbing agents.

The pleasant feeling from the bite can sometimes be unique to a Kindred.

A Malkavian's Bane manifests during a moment known as the Shattering. It can exemplify existing traits [ex: anxiety to Paranoia], or the new Malk can simply inherit their sire's specific bane. However, if anything extreme happens in the short few moments before, during, or after their Embrace, it can cause an entirely unique bane to manifest as a result of the extreme circumstances.

While shooting a vampire in the skull won't ensure the Kindred's death, it will result in slight memory loss upon regeneration- the severity of the memory loss depends on how much of the vampire's brain got destroyed (memories are all based off synapses and neurons, after all).

Excessive use of Dominate (specifically memory erasure) on a mortal can increase the chances of dementia and, in extreme cases, cause its early onset.

When feeding, the blood from a Kindred's victim goes into both the stomach and veins of the vampire- they don't really have their own blood, you see, and it needs to go somewhere. (Blood from the stomach eventually travels to the veins)

Vampires who have not fed in a while might be a bit colder than normal, with possible numbness in their hands and feet (although that's a sign of eventual torpor). On the opposite spectrum, vampires who have recently fed will, for a short while, have a bit more of a blush to them with all the new blood in their veins; however, it's not as convincing as using the Blush of Life and cannot pass as such (doesn't cause a heartbeat, for instance), and goes away after a few minutes.

CtD:

Glamour has the same iridescence as an oil spill.

Dr Chapman is fond of collecting butterflies and moths, and has a wall of them in his office. [Somehow, this is extremely unnerving for most of his patients.]

A more light-hearted one: Dr Chapman likes peanuts. I don't really know where this hc came from.

Both Dauntain and Autumn People have a lower body temperature than most mortals; combined with their Banality presence, it's not uncommon for some Kithain to think they're in the company of a vampire at first.

Nockers have an intricate series of knocks they can use to communicate to each other across tunnels, however this can also be used in simpler scenarios, like knocking on a door or table to communicate a message to someone right next to them without others knowing).

Bedlam results in slight leaks of the fae mien into the human disguise, though they're barely perceptible (ex: teeth that are just a tad sharper, small flecks of odd colors in the eyes, ears almost being pointed, etc).

A common sign of Bedlam is a bit of an iridescent shine/film on the eye, to show the buildup of too much Glamour within the fae and represent them not being able to clearly see reality; This trait is mostly only noticed by other Kithain, but becomes visible to humans in the later stages.

#not sure how i feel about some of these but yeah here they are!!#I hope these make sense???#I had more headcanons about vampire feeding but these were the only ones i could coherently form #And yes the Dominate hc is implying Leo would've gotten dementia later(?) in life if he never got Embraced #Shattering hc my beloved #vtm #vampire the masquerade #malkavian #world of darkness #changeling the dreaming #ctd #ctd dr chapman #eric finally speaks #wod

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callsigndragon · 1 year

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Seeing Red | Ch. 51: Checkmate (Part II)

Wordcount: 5.3k (I KNOW I'M SORRY)

Warnings: guns, drug, blood, mentions of jake's grandpa beign murdered, DEATH, more guns, more violence, mama bear red queen is here~.

A/N: I decided that the next chapter will be the epilogue and also the start of Rooster and Ash's story. Epilogue will be out tomorrow!

Follow @jinxlibrary for updates. Masterlist on pinned!

The tunnel is dark, humid, and smells like death. Maybe some animals have tried to find refuge here over the years, perishing between the dark passageways, unable to find a way out.

It doesn't take long to find the stone spiral stairs with their small and slick steps. The stairs go up into the house, but for you, it feels like a direct descent into hell.

“No talking from now on.” Jake orders, and you nod, following him upstairs. You place your hand on his shoulder, so he knows that you’re behind him.

The stairs lead to a secret door in the pantry. It’s perfect, you think. Gregory doesn’t look like the type of guy who spends time in the kitchen. Jake opens the door that leads to the kitchen slightly, peeking to see if there’s some household employee on the other side. But the kitchen is completely empty, the lights are turned off, and not a single noise can be heard.

“This is bad,” Jake whispers, lowering his arm once he steps into the kitchen. “Gregory always wants someone in the kitchen in case he wants a midnight snack.”

“Does he have someone working here at night?”

“He has three different chefs. Eight-hour shifts.”

“This guy is absolutely bonkers.”

“You have no idea.”

You move around the ground floor of the mansion, trying to find someone or something that might be an indication that Liam is here. But there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing.

“Where the fuck is he?” Jake mutters, looking around the big living room. It’s like one of those living rooms from an interior design magazine, white furniture, black sofas, glass tables…

But not a single family picture. That says a lot about a man.

“Did you play chess with your father when you were a kid?”

“Sometimes, yeah. Why?”

“Was there any special place where you played?” You inquire, noticing his eyes widen in recognition.

“His office.”

“Take us there.”

Jake leads the way, moving quickly to the second floor. You try your best to calm your beating heart, taking deep breaths to try and regularize your heartbeat. It’s the only thing you can hear at the moment. And you need all your senses to work correctly for this.

The office is at the end of a hallway, the door is open, and you can see a man in his late fifties or early sixties sitting behind an old, dark wooden desk.

Gregory St. James, ladies and gentlemen.

“There you are! I’ve been waiting for you, Jacob.”

You both point your guns in his direction, Jake is one step ahead of you. “Where’s my son, Gregory?”

“In here. Come in.” Gregory smiles, getting up from his chair and buttoning the jacket of his royal blue suit. That jacket must cost more than you earn in a month.

Placing your hand again on Jake’s shoulder, both of you move inside the office, and your eyes dart around the room, trying to find the blonde locks of your baby. You find him laying down in a chaise longue, his body turned in an unnatural way.

“Liam?”

He’s not moving. No. No. No. No. No. No.

“What have you done to my son?” Jake yells, pointing his finger at Gregory.

“Relax, he’s just anesthetized. Jacob, you need to be more strict with your son, he doesn’t know how to follow orders.” Gregory tuts his tongue, and you have to take a deep breath and not pull the trigger right there and then. “We had to put him to sleep.”

“Let me check if he’s alive.” You grunt, locking eyes with him.

Gregory chuckles. “Look at that, if it’s the legendary Red Queen! Did you get my gift? I ordered a new chess set with red pieces just for you.”

You swallow, your knuckles going white the more you tighten your grip around the gun. “I don’t have time for games, Gregory. Let me check if my son is okay, we’ll talk all you want later.”

“Hmmm. Vlad!”

Vlad appears behind you, you don’t know where he’s coming from, but he has his revolver pressed against Jake’s neck. “Hello, Jacob.”

“And here I thought I would never have to see that disgusting face again.” Jake mumbles, dropping his gun on the floor. This isn’t how this was supposed to go.

“Red, could you please drop your gun, too? You don’t want Jacob to end up with a bullet in his head, right?” You stare at Gregory, lowering your gun.

“It doesn’t seem fair to me that your guy is the only one having a gun here.” You reply, sliding the gun into the holster you carry on your belt. “I’ll keep it for now.”

Gregory tilts his head. “Fair enough. Check on your kid and then take a seat.” He knows that even if you carry your gun around, Jake will be dead before you have time to pull it out again. He’s not worried about that. You’re not a menace.

You go to Liam, kneeling down in front of the chaise longue and checking Liam’s pulse. It’s beating. He’s just asleep. You look around his body, looking for any injury he might have, but he’s fine. Not a single scratch.

Just like you told Jake. Gregory needs Liam. He can’t hurt him.

You shift his position to prevent him from waking up in pain and kiss his brow. “Mama will get you out of here, little prince.”

“Enough, Red.” Gregory moves the chair in front of his desk, and you hear the distinctive sound of a revolver being cocked. Vlad is giving you a silent warning: If you follow orders, nobody dies.

You get up, lumber to the chair, and sit down. You can feel Jake’s eyes on you, but you can’t look at him. There’s a game to be played, and you can’t allow yourself to break down. Not now.

“Well, the whole family is complete!” Gregory sits, rubbing his hands together in excitement. “Isn’t it wonderful?”

“Jake has a gun on his neck, Liam is knocked out, and you feel like this is something to celebrate? You should seek professional help.” You cross your legs, looking at the desk in front of you. There’s a chess board in front of you, all the pieces are missing except three. There’s the white king, and a white pawn behind him. Gregory and Liam. In front of the king, there’s a red knight. Jake.

And the only piece that’s missing is you. The red queen.

“So, you get in my house in the middle of the night, weapons in hand, and try to steal my grandson away from me.” Gregory starts, grabbing the king piece and twirling it around his fingers.

“He’s not your grandson.” Jake roars through gritted teeth.

“He has my blood. He’s a St. James.”

“Your blood? I’m pretty sure that you weren’t the one that got me pregnant.”

Gregory chuckles. “Shouldn’t you have been named Joker?”

“It was taken, sadly.” You reply, looking to your side when you notice Liam’s hand moving. Good, he’s waking up. But you need to get him out of here. “Gregory, we’ve followed your rules. You wanted us to come, we’re here. Cut the cameras.”

“Straight to the point, huh?” Gregory looks between you and Jake, observing how his eyes never leave your figure. “Seeing that my son doesn’t want to make a deal with me, I’ll do business with you. One of the boys needs to stay here; you choose which one.”

You can feel the blood boiling under your skin. How are you supposed to choose between them? Obviously, the first instinct is to get Liam out of here. But leaving Jake behind? It’s something that you didn’t even want to consider.

You must carefully consider your next move.

“How can I know that you won’t follow me and my son if I leave Jake here with you?” You question, looking around the office carefully. There’s no other possible entrance than the door behind you. On your left side, right behind Jake, there’s a large floor-to-ceiling window that allows you to see the other houses in the vicinity. On the other side, to your right, there’s a wall bookcase but no door. If you left with Liam, found a safe place to hide the child, and then returned to get Jake, you'll have to enter through the same door you left through. Gregory will see you, and goodbye to the element of surprise.

“I’ll have what I want already. I wouldn’t need you or your son. You could choke and die for all I care.”

“Well, thank you.” You snort, your gaze fixed on Jake. He nods, telling you without words that you need to get Liam and leave the house. He needs to know that at least you two are safe.

He escaped once, he can do it again.

“I’ll take Liam.” With your eyes closed and waves of nausea attacking your stomach, you make your decision. It’s not because of the pregnancy; it’s just the idea of having to leave Jake here with this psychopath.

“Leave your gun on the desk before you leave. I don’t want any surprises.” You get the gun out of the holster, dropping it on the desk and hoping that the impact will make the gun shoot itself. But it doesn’t happen.

You walk over to the chaise longue, grab Liam, and hug him tightly, inhaling the cologne residue on his clothes. He’s okay, he’s safe. You have him back.

But what did it cost you?

Everything.

You close your eyes, forcing the tears to come out. Let him think that you’re not as strong as you seem to be. Let them think that you’re just a weak, emotional, and scared mother who has been trying to play something she’s not to get her child back.

And then you’ll prove them wrong.

When the tears fall, you look at Gregory. “Can I please hug your son before I go? Just a quick hug, please.”

Gregory smiles, pleased with himself at the fact that the Red Queen herself is begging him. “Vlad.”

Jake runs to you once Vlad lowers the revolver, hugging you and Liam so close it physically hurts. He leaves kisses all over his face, checking, just like he did, that he doesn’t have a single scratch. “You need to leave now, sweets.”

You don’t need to fake the tears anymore. “I can’t leave you here, Jake.”

He shushes you, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “It’s okay. We’ll see each other soon. I promise you.”

He hugs you again, one last time, whispering in your ear. “I love you, my queen.”

“I’ll come back for you.” You whisper in return. taking a few steps backwards and glancing one last time in Gregory's direction. Keep playing the weak woman, Red. “Thank you, sir. I’ll leave now. Just… take care of him, please.”

“I will do it; don’t worry, sweetheart. It’s a pity, you know. You’ll make such a good spouse for my son.”

You ignore his comment, leaving the room quickly. Each step you take towards the main door feels like someone is throwing knives at your heart. You're leaving behind your husband, the love of your life, and the father of your son. He’s left behind with the only person he hates and fears at the same time.

But you’ll come back for him. You just need time.

When you’re close to the main entrance, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. You pull it out, and read the message. Only one word, but it gives you all the hope you need.

Outside

You run to the door, open it in a swift motion, and the face you see on the other side almost makes you cry again.

“I could kiss you right now if you weren’t my cousin.” You say, looking at DiNozzo and McGee. “Doc told you?”

“Yeah, as soon as you told her to tell me where you were going, we got into the car and drove.” DiNozzo looks at Liam, moving his hair out of his face. “Is he okay?”

“Gregory drugged him. Listen, I need you to take him.”

“What?” McGee asks, looking at you as if you had grown a second head. “You’re not going back inside.”

“He’s in his office, Vlad is pointing a revolver against Jake’s head, and I’m not letting you two idiots go in there and risk your life.”

Tony places his hands on your shoulders, leaning down to make eye contact with you. “Red, you can’t go back there. He’s a bad guy. He would kill you.”

“No, Tony. That’s where you’re wrong.” You shake your head, trying to get your words together and explain everything as fast as you can so you can go save your husband. “He never pulls the trigger.”

“Well, a lot of mafia bosses don’t do that either, and that-”

You cut DiNozzo’s rambling. “He’s a coward. The only guy that worries me in that room is the one that is pointing a gun at Jake’s head. Just call the SWAT, bring a sniper, or whatever. If you go to the neighbor’s house’s terrace, you’ll have a clear view of the office. Vlad and Jake are in front of the window; it should be easy to just shoot a bullet to his head.”

Both of them look at you, surprised and amazed by all the important information that you just gave them. “Your plan was to go inside and collect all the information you could, right?”

You nod, looking at Liam. “And try to leave with Liam, if possible. That’s what we do, Tony. We collect information, make a briefing, and prepare the plan. Well, I just gave you the plan. Now, take Liam.”

“But wait, what are you gonna do?” Tony panics when you hand him Liam’s sleepy body.

“Buy you time. Maybe even get a confession.” You kiss Liam’s head and turn to McGee. “Give me your gun.”

“No fucking way I’m letting you go inside.”

“McGee!”

“No, Red. It’s a suicide.”

“I mean,” Tony starts, ignoring McGee’s glare. “We called a sniper. It shouldn’t take long for him to arrive.”

“See? You just need time.”

Tony moves Liam to the side, and McGee, seeing him struggling, decides to just carry him. “Thanks, McGoo. Take my gun and my earpiece. We can communicate with you when the sniper arrives.”

You grab the gun and the tiny earpiece that he hands you, pushing it inside your ear. “We need a mic.”

“Here.” He pulls his own out of his jacket, hiding the wiring inside the vest. “I have another one in my car, keep this one.”

“Do I have permission to shoot?”

“Make him pay a bit.”

You nod, cocking the gun, and look at Liam one last time. “If something happens, take him with Maverick. He’ll know what to do.”

“Nothing will happen, Red.” McGee tries to reassure you, but at this point you can’t believe in those words anymore. You said those same words to Jake, and look where you are.

“I have to go. Take care of him, please.”

You turn around, facing the door you just walked out of, but with a completely different sensation in your body. You’re not running away anymore, you’re now facing that evil king, who has Jake imprisoned.

Gregory doesn’t know what he's gotten himself into. He had seen Red, pretty much like the rest of your family. But nobody has seen the Red Queen.

It’s time to unleash her.

Jake observes his father walking around the office, opening one of his desk drawers and pulling out a glass and a bottle of ambar liquid. Whiskey. His father’s favorite.

“You want, son?” Gregory offers, with a content smile on his face. He really thinks he has won.

“I’d rather dehydrate, thank you so much.”

Gregory shakes his head in disappointment. “Jacob, Jacob, Jacob, you and I are going to be together for a long time. It’s time for you to accept it, or I’ll have to make you accept it.”

“You don’t have anything to use against me anymore.”

Gregory laughs, getting up from his chair and walking towards him, drinking from his glass of whiskey. “You really think I’m going to let that whore raise a St. James? Jacob, I raised you better than that.”

Jake spits on his face. “Don’t call her a whore. And you never raised me. You hired private teachers. It’s not the same.”

Gregory wipes his face with the red handkerchief that he has on his jacket. “Pathetic. Make him sit, Vlad.”

“It’s time now for you to return to the place you were supposed to occupy so many years ago, before you got in your head that silly idea of wanting to fly planes. Son, if you wanted to pretend to be a pilot, I could have bought you a plane! No need to run away and become a soldier.”

Vlad pushes Jake from the window to the desk, sitting him in the same chair that Red occupied just a minute before. He could have disarmed Vlad easily, but he couldn't risk Vlad pulling the trigger with Liam in the room. Or with his wife. He can try to get a gun now, though. He's alone. He's the only one that can get hurt.

“I didn’t want to pretend. I am a pilot. And you have no idea how many times I had to fly to another country and kill the people you had armed."

Gregory chuckles, patting his son’s head. “Well, that only made them buy more weapons. Thank you for making me even more rich than I was”

It’s futile. This guy is so full of himself, that he doesn’t care. He thinks he has won, that he has managed to get what he wanted. But Jake only needs time. Time to escape.

Make him talk. That will give you time.

“Did you make Vlad join the Navy so you could control me?”

“We only need to falsify some papers. It’s so damned easy to pretend to be someone you’re not in this country.” Vlad chuckles, acknowledging how he infiltrated on his base just to control him. The thought of him being followed for months makes him sick.

“You knew that I had a son, and you never told me?” Jake asks, looking at the gun in front of him—the one that Gregory made you leave behind. He could grab it and use it, but Vlad takes it in his hands before Jake can even move a finger in its direction.

“I was hoping that she told you sooner, so your life would be a bit more miserable, but it didn’t happen. She’s not as good as you think. She kept your kid away from you.” Gregory pats Jake’s shoulder, drinking again.

“She was protecting my son. And she did a good damn job.”

“Oh yeah, so good that he doesn’t stop crying when he’s ordered to.” Gregory rolls his eyes.

“Kids cry, Greogry. You’d know if you had spent time with me when I was little.”

“I had so many things to do, it was impossible for me to waste time with a kid.”

“Waste time. Is that all I've ever been to you? A waste of time?” Jake tries to get up from the chair, but Vlad pushes him down again.

“Well, not really, but you left me. And all the money, time, and effort I put into your education was useless!” Gregory reminds him, as if Jake wasn’t trying to leave again. “You let me down, son.”

“Then why were you so desperate to have me here again? Why did you want an heir so bad?” Jake hears his father’s words, and they are totally contradictory. He talks about him as if he were a "failed project" but yet again, he has been trying to bring him home for the past three years. There's something missing here. And he needs to know.

“I think I can answer that question.” Jake has never been more glad to hear his wife’s voice in all his life.

“What are you doing here, whore?” Vlad questions, getting up and pressing the barrel of the revolver against Jake’s head.

“If I were you, I would look around before insulting people.” You say, pressing the gun against Gregory’s back. “Drop the gun or your boss dies, Vlad.”

Gregory shakes his head, making Vlad move the barrel to Jake’s temple. “Where’s your kid, Red? Did you leave him alone?”

“Contrary to you, Greg, I have friends.” You push him towards his desk. “Sit down.”

Gregory sits on his chair, Vlad grabs Jake by the arm, moving him so both of them are in front of the window again. Perfect. Just where you want them.

“Now we’re gonna play by my rules, Greg.”

“Don’t call me Greg.” He grunts, trying to get up.

“No, no, no, Greg.” you say in a singsong voice, moving the gun to his forehead, just between his eyes. “You don’t want to have a hole in your head, right?”

“As if you could shoot me.”

You smirk, and move the gun to his leg, shooting him on the knee. Gregory grips his leg in agony, blood pouring from the wound. “Now that you know what I’m capable of, don’t make me shoot you in the head.”

“Son, you married a psychopath!” The old man screams, looking at Vlad and Jake.

Jake looks at you with a smirk that reciprocates your own. “I married a queen. And you should know better than to mess with one.”

“Vlad, are you gonna drop that revolver or not?”

“When you drop your gun, bitch.” He spits, eyes locked with yours.

“Ah, ah, ah. You don’t want to talk like that to the person who has your boss’s life in her hands.” You correct him, using the same tone you use when talking with Liam.

“I should have shot you before.” Gregory says, taking off his belt to make a tourniquet and stop the bleeding.

You laugh, sitting on the desk, not once moving the gun from Gregory’s head. “Well, remember how my husband asked you something? I think I can answer that question. I’ll tell you a story. Once upon a time, there was an evil king called… George. King George ruled a kingdom of terror. He was loved by some and feared by the rest. He, however, didn’t care about the people. He only cared about the money he could win, he wanted to fill thousands of chests with gold.”

“Are you really going to tell me a fairytale of my own life?”

“Shush, King George. I’m talking.” You clear your throat before continuing. You just need to keep going until Tony tells you that the sniper is ready to shoot. You need to gain that precious time. And what better than the story behind all this mess? “King George was married to a beautiful yet innocent queen, Queen Marian. She wasn’t as powerful as George was, but she was in love with him, and she didn’t know the King’s true intentions.”

“However,” you continue, getting the white king from the chess board and moving it around the table, as if the piece were walking around it. “The King didn’t care about his wife. He only wanted an heir. A prince. And that’s how Prince Jay was born."

You look at Jake, there’s expectation in his face. He’s waiting for you to tell him the real reason behind his father’s actions.

“Prince Jay was raised by the best teachers in the whole kingdom. But when Prince Jay grew up, and his dear grandpa was murdered, Jay decided to leave and find a better life. He didn’t want to be like his father. He wanted to amend all the damage his father had done, and that’s when he left the kingdom, became a soldier, and fought for all the lives that his father had put in serious danger. That’s when he met a queen. The Red Queen.”

You continue your story, the three men watching you, like three children listening to a storyteller. “The Red Queen and, now, King Jay, were very happy. King George, however, wasn’t happy. Not because his son had married someone. But because he found out… he was sick. And that illness that threatened his life was untreatable. He didn’t have much time left.”

You watch Gregory’s face contort in anger and shame, his whole skin turning red. You were right. He is sick.

“Afraid of the people who would inherit his kingdom after he passed away, he tried to force his son to come back to him and take his position as an heir. Be the next king of his kingdom. And to make that happen, he needed to threaten his own son. How, you may be wondering. Well, he tricked King Jay into thinking he was going to hurt his wife, even though he would never do anything... because he's a complete coward."

Gregory tries to get up, and you move the gun to his wound, pressing the muzzle against the hole in his head. “Don’t even try, Greg. Let me finish, dude. We’re getting there.”

You keep telling the story that you’ve been piecing together on the trip to Hidden Hills. You kept thinking, "Why is he behaving this way?" and then you found the answer you were looking for in one of the rooms downstairs, before coming upstairs to save Jake, a place that has been turned into an infirmary. “Well, King George waited for three years until the Red Queen told King Jay that he was a father, but she never did because she was scared of the king’s reaction. King George, tired of waiting and knowing that he was running out of time, tried to force a meeting. That's when the king dispatched Viktor to King Jay's domain.

“Really. My name is Vlad. Not Viktor.” He grunts, looking you up and down.

“That’s not even your real name.” You retort, pointing the gun at him. “Will you stop interrupting me?”

“Bitch.”

Jake turns around, looking at Vlad. “Insult my wife again, and I swear to God that’s gonna be your last word on Earth.”

“Anyway. Viktor disguised himself as a soldier, and worked in the same army as King Jay, but he didn’t plan on talking directly with the king. No, his plan was to make Cycunt bring the Red Queen to the kingdom.” You look at Gregory, waving your hand. “Yeah, I know. Cycunt isn’t a great name. But it is what it is, right? So, Vlad and Cycunt happened to be in the same place at the same time, and Vlad mentioned, loud enough for him to hear, that King Jay had been married before. That’s how Cycunt, a few months later, reached the Red Queen and got her to be in the same kingdom. And that’s how it all happened.”

“You’re sick?” Jake asks Gregory, really expecting him to negate everything.

“Cancer.”

“Fucking psychopath. What the fuck did you think would have happened once you died? I would have destroyed the whole company!” Jake yells, moving a step forward, and Vlad grabs him by the neck.

“Get your hands off him.” You warn him, clenching your jaw.

“Stop being a psycho bitch and drop the gun!” Vlad yells too, his voice echoing in the empty corridor behind you.

“Shut up, or I’ll shoot you too. Gregory, why did you kill James Seresin?”

“I didn’t kill anyone, Red.” Greg groans, taking off his tie. His face is covered in a thin layer of sweat. He’s starting to have trouble breathing, but you couldn’t care less.

“Well, you ordered someone, probably Vlad, to kill him. Why?”

"He was transforming my son into a frail, military man." I didn’t want all my work to go to waste.”

“Really? That was it? You could have just prohibited him from seeing Jake.” You deadpan.

“He didn’t take no for an answer. I had to get rid of him.”

You shake your head, not understanding anything that comes from this man’s mouth. It's like he goes to extraordinary lengths to fix situations that have the easiest solutions. He’s absolutely stupid.

“Commander Seresin?”

You hear a voice coming through the earpiece, and you almost jump from the table.

“Commander Seresin, I’m Special Agent Gibbs. I’m DiNozzo’s boss. If you can hear me, please keep talking. I’m trying to find the right window.”

“Greg, I assume that you play chess, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you consider yourself good?”

“That’s it, Commander. Keep talking. Just need a bit more time. Just a few seconds.” Gibbs says, and you want to sigh in relief. Just a few more minutes, and you’ll walk away from here. You’ll be free at last.

“I taught Jake everything he knows.”

“Well, I think you’re a liar.”

Greg raises an eyebrow at you. “And why do you think so?”

“Because if you knew the basics of chess, you'd know that the king is the most valuable piece but not the most powerful.” You reach into one of your west pockets and pull out the red queen piece. “The queen is the most powerful one. She can move around the board in every direction, unlike the king, who can only move one square at a time.”

“I already know that.”

“Then why did you think that messing with a queen would be a smart idea?” Moving your gaze away from him and leaving the piece in front of the white king, you say. “You’re not as good as you claim to be.”

Out of nowhere, Gregory pulls a small revolver and pointing it at you, making Jake step in your direction, only to be stopped by Vlad. You don’t have the upper hand anymore. Gibbs you need to move fast.

“What now, Red Queen? What are you gonna do now?” Gregory chuckles, trying to get up from his chair but failing.

“Commander, I see you and your husband. If you can hear me, grab the weapon with both hands.” Gibbs says, and you hold your breath for a second.

You do as he tells you, getting up from the chair and pointing at Gregory, holding the gun with two hands.

“That’s good, Commander. I see that he has a gun, too. I’m afraid you’re gonna have to kill him.”

That’s not what you wanted to hear, to be completely honest. But if you have to pull the trigger, you’ll do it.

Better you than him.

“You’re not so talkative now, huh?”

“Commander, I’ll count to three, and we shoot at the same time, got it? One.”

“Gregory.” You call him, your heart pounding in your ears.

“Two.”

“What?” He replies, with a sly smile.

“Checkmate.”

“Three!”

You shoot straight into his head, just at the same time, a bullet breaks the window and goes through Vlad’s head. Vlad falls to the floor, and Jake runs to you, as you watch Gregory’s body go limp in front of you.

“Are you okay? What the fuck was that?” Jake cups your face between his hands, checking your body for any injuries, but you’re okay. He kisses you passionately when you try to reply to his question.

“DiNozzo’s boss.”

“Where’s Liam?”

“With DiNozzo.” You say again, letting Jake drag you into his arms.

“It’s over now. It’s finally over. You saved me.”

“I said I would come back for you” You whisper, your body shaking now that the adrenaline is gone.

“Let’s get you out of here, my love.” He says as he leads you to the door, kiss pressing against your temple.

Then you remember that there’s something you need to do. You turn around, heading towards the desk, and, looking at the chess board, you see that the white pieces are now covered in blood.

You take the queen and hit the king, making it fall down.

That’s how you win a war.

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