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neoneun-au · 16 hours ago

Text

ok fuuuuuun. more thoughts under the cut

i was hankering for a plot-thick fic, something maybe darker and more interesting since there used to be a ton when i was more in nctblr in 2020/2021 (wrote my own 70s cult murder fic back in the day too....lol) so this was like a little godsend ! the matthe / spencer reid parallel...loved that.

the fic felt so grounded in the setting and everything really well. you're very efficient with your prose (for lack of a better term). something about a lot of the word choices set the tone and the scene in such a way that it didn't take a lot of words to do, which was great for a grittier detective au! effective.

these two sentences ! so good at painting a picture of the characters and solidifying them through seokmin's perspective in a succinct, digestible way. punchy. i like it.

also love the reinforcement of stolpers character through y/n's perspective shortly after. doubled down on like...oh its not just seokmin, he really just is like that. also good to sort of show that they're still unified in a way mentally yknow. despite the years and the fractures they still see each other even when they dont know it

hehehehe the feeeliiiinggsssss yet linger

THIS again !! Efficient and effective !!! something my own writing never is but which i greatly admire !!! us wordy bitches could never !!!

LOL ok as soon as a motel was mentioned i was like....ah.....only one bed trope ofc ofc. old faithful. and why not? then this was just funny lol never heard that one before

ACK!!!! THE EVIDENCE !!!!!! as soon as i started kissing i was like you better fucking not, keep it in your pants but then they DID. ugh. 2 horny 2 function. i had a visceral reaction to it lmao glad they did not actually fuck in the serial killer basement tho.....maybe that could have been funny also lol

anyway sorry my reviews are always like half book report i dont know how to interact with fic/writing in almost any other way rip but i had fun with this !! made me want to dust off some of my crime au ideas and get my head out of romcomville for a minute

part of the @svthub 70's collab

Lee Seokmin is a very successful and admired Detective in the NYPD. Up until now he has had no trouble catching the bad guys. But when an especially horrific serial killer starts roaming the streets of New York City and he faces perplexity for the first time in his career - his superiors send a unit from the FBI trained to profile Serial Killers, which contains none other than you - Seokmin’s High School Sweetheart.

Pairing: Detective!Seokmin x FBI Agent!Reader

Genre: Criminal Minds/Detective AU, exes to enemies to lovers, Serial Killer AU, angst, Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Serial Killer theme, description of violence, description of dead bodies, cult themes, mentions of suicide, mentions of blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of suicide, character death (none of the main characters); smut warnings: fingering, penetrative sex, dirty talk, usage of the word “baby”, begging, reader has female anatomy, unprotected sex, creampie

Wordcount: 15.8k

a/n: I finally made it!! after months and months of writer's block I finally finished this fic, and I am actually really happy with it. Please mind the warnings, as this goes into darker themes. I also want to note, that I am no expert in terms of criminal language especially during the 70s in the us. So, if you spot anything that isn't all that accurate, i apologize! I also want to thank @multi-kpop-fanfics, @bitchlessdino & @strawberryya for reading through this and telling me i, in fact, do not suck at writing lmao. ily guys!!

taglist: @the-boy-meets-evil, @wooahaeproductions, @wongyuseokie

Lee Seokmin was a proud man. Proud of his grades in school and university. Proud of the man his parents had shaped him into. Proud of all the cases he had solved as a detective. With pride comes vulnerability, though. Especially in cases like these when he doesn’t have the right to be proud of himself. When he feels lost and helpless and his superiors look at him as if he had never solved a single case in his career.

He knows. He knows he isn’t giving them or the people of New York City anything to go by. All he can do is say he needs more time. Time that no one has.

“More people will die, Lee.”

Seokmin hates Jeffrey Stolper. Hates him like fire burns. There is nothing he can do about it. Balling his fist under the table, Seokmin slowly raises his head. There is a certain emotion in Stolper’s eyes, an emotion Seokmin was happy to say he hadn’t seen many times before. His older colleague was gloating. While they were working together, their boss put Seokmin in charge because of the very obvious numbers differentiating them. Seokmin solved cases. Stolper left them cold. Seokmin couldn’t count the amount of times he had helped Jeffrey from drowning in his own misery, and this was the thanks he got. The older man was gloating because, for the first time in practically ever, Seokmin was lost.

“Thanks, Stolper, couldn’t figure that one out myself,” he mumbled, letting his free hand roam over his sweaty face. Scoffing, the older male with the slowly graying hair leans back in his chair.

“Not the hot shot everyone says you are, aren’t you?”

“Shut the fuck up, this is not the time.” Seokmin’s voice is quiet but sharp, and Jeffrey laughs, his chest heaving as he seems to be vibrating with the horrendous sound of his arrogant laugh. It takes everything inside Seokmin not to get up from his chair and punch the hell out of the man.

“Lee, Stolper.”

Both of them get up when their superior walks in, a big man with a receding hairline, a stubble on his strong face, and an old suit on his large frame. Frederic Bream isn’t much of an empath, but he does a good job.

“Captain.” Seokmin and Stolper speak at the same time, watching as the captain nods and then waves his hand, telling them to sit back down. Once all of them are seated, he clears his throat.

“I know you hate to admit it, Lee, but we have no leads on this. No leads and a new victim.”

Seokmin’s heart falls down to his feet. Fuck. Another dead girl? Who will it be this time? He feels sweat starting to form at the top of his head.

“Another one?” Stolper is serious and reaches for the case file Bream put on the table. Seokmin feels as if someone had dumped him in ice water, unable to move, shivering. He hates the fact that Bream is right - there are no leads. So far they haven’t gathered anything from what this monster does except that he always does it the same way.

“Lauren White, 23. Student at Columbia,” Stolper reads, his face in a grimace, “she was found near Times Square, too. Fuck, Lee, I told you to put more patrols out!”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Even if we put every man we have on the streets, this city is huge, Stolper. He could just start moving them somewhere else.”

Stolper doesn’t respond. Instead, he shoves the file over to Seokmin, who takes it with his jaw tensed.

“This is different from before, boys,” Bream clears his throat, “this is a high-profile murder. She is the daughter of the district judge.”

Seokmin looks up from the file.

“Why is this different from the other four victims? Because she has an important dad, suddenly the tables turn?”

Bream sighs, pulling a hand over his red face.

“It’s not fair, I know that, Lee. But this changes everything. The judge is furious. Was a real fucking asshole about it too, even for someone who just lost his daughter. He wants the slasher to be caught yesterday.”

“Oh, and we don’t? Captain, please, this is bullshit!” Seokmin scoffs, throwing the file back on the table and glaring at his superior, who looks straight back at him.

“I know. We all know Seokmin. It’s a bad situation. But, some might say, it did bring something good.”

“And what’s that?” Stolper speaks up, crossing his arms. Bream clicks his tongue.

“We got sent help. From the FBI.”

Silence is what follows. Seokmin feels the ice inside his veins melt and instead get replaced by fire. He knows Stolper feels the same. Everyone here feels the same. The fucking feds.

“They can’t take this from us. We’ve been on this for months,” Seokmin hisses, and Bream nods again, licking his dry lips.

“They won’t take it from us, Lee. They are only here to help. In fact, they aren’t… our usual feds.”

“What does that mean?” Seokmin raises his brows, leaning forward, hands on top of the table.

“They are a completely new department. Focused on the behavior of criminals, analyzing them, trying to figure out what is wrong with them.”

“They are killing people. That’s what's wrong with them!” Stolper shouts, and Bream holds up his hand.

“I understand that you’re upset. God knows I am, too. But there is nothing I can do. Go talk to them. They just arrived.”

The ice is back, and this time it hits Seokmin right in the face. They are here already? Waiting for them? Embarrassment flows through his veins, mixed with an emotion he has never felt before regarding his job: failure. His legs are shaking as he gets up, but he tries to play it off, his body tensing when Bream leads them to the door and opens it.

The hallway to the main hall suddenly feels longer than it is. The walls are closing in on Seokmin, the gray concrete threatening to suffocate him as he walks over the horrendous blue tiles he never understood were placed in the first place. Nothing really seems to be matching in this precinct. Most especially Seokmin and the federal agents waiting for them downstairs. He doesn’t know how his legs lead him to the glass front that shows the inside of the busy station downstairs. Everything is the same gray color. Everything is the same horrible blue. The only difference is the people standing in the right corner of the room all gathered around the whiteboard Seokmin has so carefully put together these past few months.

His hands are sweating. This isn’t fair. This is his case. They aren’t supposed to be here and take credit for what he has done so far. What exactly have you done, Lee Seokmin? The voice in his head reminds him, and he balls his hands into fists as Bream opens the door leading to the stairs that will finally bring him to the federal agents he knows he’ll hate already.

The atmosphere in the room is tense. More tense than usual because everyone in it is unhappy with the current situation. As if it isn't hard enough that there is a killer on the loose, now there are FBI agents trying to take this away from the NYPD? This is his town, Seokmin’s town! No one knows it as well as him. He knows every corner, every store. Every good place to eat, every bar to avoid. The people know him; they trust him with this, and now he is just supposed to accept that he can’t continue what he started?

He doesn’t know how, but somehow, he does end up right behind all the agents and one of the other detectives, Jeanne, and doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is bitter. His arms are crossed as he listens to Jeanne explaining what is on the board. She had been a part of this - just like all the other detectives had been whenever they could. It’s not like crime suddenly stopped in New York City just because a serial killer was roaming around. If anything, it just got worse.

“That’s about all we’ve gathered. I know it’s not much, but it’s all we got.” Jeanne closes her explanation, and Seokmin watches the backs of the agent's head nodding. Bream then clears his throat, making the others aware that they have joined and once the team of strangers turns around, Seokmin thinks someone has yet again taken a bucket of ice and dumped it all over his head. Because why on earth are you here?

You see him the second he sees you. It’s almost funny how your professionalism slowly slips out of your control, how seeing him makes memories flood your brain and almost drowns you. Why is he here? He, who had left you with a sour taste seven years prior to this moment? Why is he standing there in a well-fitted suit, looking the best he ever had in a precinct that shouldn’t have anything pretty inside it?

“Detectives, may I introduce you to agents Son, Song, Kim, Seok and Y/L/N. They were sent here by the FBI to help us with the investigations.” Jeanne smiles, but Seokmin knows it’s not an honest smile. You see it, too. When you had gotten the memo to go to New York City and help with the slasher murders, you had already known the detectives wouldn’t be too happy to see you and your team.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m the team leader, Hyunwoo Son.” You hear your boss speak, and you want to look at him, but your eyes are back to being glued to Seokmin. Lee Seokmin. The one who had taken everything from you when you were nineteen.

“You too. I’m Detective Stolper. This is Detective Lee.” Bream doesn’t sound sincere. For once, Seokmin is relieved his older colleague likes to speak over him. He doesn’t know if he would have been able to say a word.

Catching a serial killer is one thing. Catching him with someone you share an uncomfortable history with, another. You are sitting as far from Seokmin as you possibly can. With as many people between you as there are.

Hyunwoo is standing at the front with Matthew, explaining what your team has gathered as of now. The rest of the precinct is listening to the presentation, and you just know they are all biting their tongues. No one wants you here. All of them think you’re a fraud. While you understand where they are coming from, you also think it’s time for them to accept the newly found ways to analyze the behavior of killers like the case at hand: the Manhattan Slasher. The air is thick with sweat, and you are sure 70% of it is yours.

“We want to make clear that the work your precinct and especially you, Detective Lee, have done so far is incredibly helpful. We don’t want to discredit what you’ve done and we also don’t want to make you feel as if you’re getting kicked off the case. We aren’t your usual federal agents, Detectives, we are here to be of support to you. You still go outside and look at the crime scenes. You still get to do your work. We are here to assist, to see things we have been trained to see, things you cannot see, not for lack of smarts but lack of training.”

You had always admired Hyunwoo. How he spoke so clearly and calmly, how he never failed to make a person feel seen. You can feel the atmosphere shift. Some of the police officers visibly relaxing in their seats. You still don’t dare to look at Seokmin.

“Now, to what we have gathered. Dr. Matthew Seok will lead you through it.”

Seokmin wonders how old Matthew Seok is. He can’t be any older than 23. How on earth is he already a part of one of the newest FBI departments? And gets to be in charge of the presentation? And how does he already have a god damn PhD?

“Hi everyone, I’m Dr. Matthew Seok. With the help of the information you’ve gathered, we were able to come up with a profile for our unsub.”

Seokmin feels a scoff in his throat but manages to hold it back. A profile? What is he talking about?

“We are positive the unsub is a white man in his early to late 30s. He most probably grew up with an abusive mother, which explains why he only picks women as his victims. He doesn’t care about their race or social standing, which tells us he doesn’t hate one specific type of woman, but all of them. The age range of his victims is from early to mid twenties, meaning his mother had him young and gave him up around that time.”

You should be used to it by now. The reaction from the precincts. But it bothers you just as much as it usually does. The way they look at each other, the way they are already fed up with you being here. Your eyes wander over to the rest of your team, who you know are just as fed up as you, but they are better at hiding their emotions. Yuqi just stands there with her gum in her mouth, her arms crossed, and hoping she’ll get to go on the field soon. While she is an excellent profiler, she did train to become a field agent. It was pure coincidence that Hyunwoo had overheard her talking about this one case even Matthew had been struggling with. Jungwoo is the quietest one of your team, especially in situations like this. He just stands there, hands folded in front of his frame, eyeing the situation calmly. The team leader himself stands next to Matt still, his arms crossed as well and his gaze wandering over the crowd of people. A traitorous part of you envies him for being able to look at Seokmin without any repercussions.

“How the fuck do you know that?” A voice now erupts from the sea of people. You turn around to see the man who had walked in with Seokmin. Stolper, you think his name was. A frown appears on your face.

“It’s not our job to explain profiling to you,” you say coldly and the older man’s eyes find you - just like Seokmin’s do. You decide to ignore them and turn back to face Matthew.

“Uhm. Yes, well, we do ask you to look into certain… well, behaviors. People like our unsub aren’t exactly the most masculine. He is probably very thin and might even have a disability - perhaps a prosthetic leg or something that makes him feel inferior. Look into churches, veteran centers, see if you find anyone that could match the profile and-,”

“You mean to tell me that the killer could be a vet?” Bream now interrupts, his eyebrows raised. Seokmin presses his lips together. If his colleagues hadn’t been wary of your bunch before, they sure as hell are now. War Heroes? Their precious American patriots that fought for their country and won a war? How could you even dare to speak ill of them?

“No. He most probably didn’t serve. He tells people he did and that that’s the reason he has said disability,” Matthew continues calmly and you smile slightly. It was a reach, your reach, but so far all your reaches had been a shot to the bullseye.

Then there was a sudden thud somewhere behind you, followed by hurried footsteps and news none of you could pretend didn’t make you sick to your stomachs.

This feels wrong. It’s broad daylight, there are people everywhere. You stand next to Matthew, your hands buried in your pockets, and listen to the statement of the girl that had called the police.

“She was just next to me and then.. and then suddenly she wasn’t. I- I was confused and looked around and then I saw this- this man and how he dragged her by the arm into his car. No one did anything, no one- no one helped her and I- I didn’t-,” her voice breaks off and another set of tears well up in her eyes. Seokmin nods understandingly.

“Miss, you have nothing to blame yourself for. It is a busy street and you and your friend were not glued by the hip, alright? We will do our best to find her and you shouldn’t worry about what you could have done differently. You called us right away and that's the best thing you could’ve done.”

Tears are rolling down her face, sobs are erupting from her tiny body, and you wonder if Seokmin would ask her out if it wasn’t for the circumstances. The second the thought hits your brain, you freeze. What the hell? Why on earth would your mind go there? In a situation like this? You shake your head to yourself and look around - the police have put tape around the area where Kelly has gotten abducted. Her friend, Jean is being questioned, along with the few other people who claim to have seen something. But other than the witnesses, there isn’t much to go on about. The car he had dragged Kelly into had been an old one and Jean couldn’t exactly tell what kind. She also hadn’t been able to make out the license plate. So, all in all, it was all more or less useless information.

“Detective Lee, I will need you to go to the morgue with Dr. Seok and Y/N,” Hyunwoo is suddenly there, right next to Seokmin and you hear his voice and feel your stomach tighten. The professionalism has to stay in its place, you know that. There is no room for you to fall back into old patterns; that one silly thought you had earlier was enough. You can’t let it get any further.

But the tension is there and it's suffocating. You’re in the backseat of Seokmin’s car and Matthew is talking the man’s ear off with information you have heard millions of times before. Thankfully your friend and colleague doesn’t feel what you feel, what Seokmin feels, and for a short second you ask yourself how he even became the youngest member of your team - only for you to remember you have never met a mind as brilliant as his, with the exception of human interaction. He isn’t too good at those.

The morgue is just like any other you’ve been in. This one still feels different, though. Probably because of the young girls you know shouldn’t be dead laying on top of the examination tables with nothing but a thin blanket over their pale, lifeless bodies. You should be used to this by now, you think. But you doubt you ever will be.

Matthew is standing next to one of the women, the fourth victim, Fernanda Franco, with this look on his face you’ve seen many times before. You’re standing opposite him, your arms crossed and your eyes shifting over the body, wondering how much pain these women had been in.

“He did a thorough job with the cut,” the coroner says now; he is standing on the side of the room, holding a file, “my guess is he is good with a knife, maybe working with animals.”

“Right,” Matthew mumbles, a frown on his face as he leans forward, eyeing the victim from top to bottom. It’s somewhat fascinating how good he is at spotting things others haven’t seen before. Perhaps it had made you jealous a while back, but fortunately, that is over. Instead of being jealous, you appreciate his work and his abilities.

Seokmin, meanwhile, is also looking through files. Mostly from the crime scenes. How the women looked before the coroner took care of them. The fact that they are all still here, and not yet down under, no funeral held at this point, makes his stomach turn. He knows it’s wrong. But as long as they haven’t found the killer, as long as there might be more evidence on the bodies… Seokmin suppresses a sigh. He wants to give the families the chance to find closure so badly. If only by giving them the opportunity to put their daughters, sisters, grandchildren to rest.

The pictures are still hard to look at. The blood everywhere. The stained clothes. The signs of clear torture. Nothing sexual, at least. But then again, perhaps the killer doesn’t need to sexually assault them to feel arousal. That’s what Matthew said earlier. Seokmin closes the file and pulls a hand through his hair, his hat safely stored on one of the cabinets.

“Dr. Richmond,” Matthew’s voice makes Seokmin look over to where you are standing.

“Dr. Seok?” Richmond walks over to Matthew who is standing bent over the body, his hand holding… the victim’s ear. Immediately, you and Seokmin step closer, both of your eyes glued to the women’s earlobe. Something inside your stomach turns, goosebumps suddenly all over your skin and you feel your breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Why wasn’t this in the files?” Matthew now continues to ask, his eyes not leaving what he found. Dr. Richmond feels his face go pale and sweat starts to form on the palms of his hands. Blood is rushing through his ears and there is nothing he can say, nothing he can try to come up with because the bitter truth is-

“He didn’t know it was there,” Seokmin finishes the thought and Richmond swallows hard, hands wiping away at his lab coat. The detective is right.

“Do all of them have this?” You ask now, finally able to move away from Fernanda and move over to Jennifer Cartwright, who looks way too peaceful for what had happened to her. But then, you are happy she does. A part of you hopes she is feeling peace wherever she may be. When you reach for her earlobe, you already know it will be there. You take a deep breath.

“I’m- I don’t understand. I never… nothing like this ever happened, I-,” Richmond’s voice echoes through the room, but none of you pay him mind. The small crosses, carved into the soft tissue of the women’s earlobes, take all of your attention.

There were only a handful of people in the meeting room. Your team and Seokmin and his superior officer. It bothered you, kind of. More people had to know.

“These crosses, they have been used before,” Matthew is pacing through the room and Hyunwoo is right there at the front of it, his arms crossed and his thumbnail between his teeth. He is thinking, listening.

“This was in the late fifties, early sixties. A cult, they all followed this one man, Jonathan Brixley. He claimed to have somewhat superpowers, and while most didn’t actually believe him, he was such a good preacher, they followed him anyways. They weren’t known for being violent up until they seemed to vanish. Many thought they might have done a suicide pact, but no bodies were ever found. But what we do know is that whenever one of their own died, they would carve a little cross into their earlobe. Almost unnoticeable. Almost like a birthmark - it’s not even that surprising Dr. Richmond didn’t catch on.”

“He didn’t catch on that all of the girls have the same strange birthmark?” Seokmin frowns. You roll your eyes.

“We are all aware that this isn’t the ideal situation, Detective, but perhaps being bitter about it doesn’t make it better.”

It’s the first time you and Seokmin have directly talked. Or more like, the first time you had openly acknowledged each other's presence.

“With all due respect, Agent, I don’t care. I want to be bitter, I am allowed to be bitter. If we had known this weeks ago, we might have cracked the case by now!”

“I highly doubt that, Detective. With all due respect,” Matthew chimes in and the (unpleasant) moment between Seokmin and you is over.

“And why is that?” Seokmin’s superior officer asks.

“Well, as I said, the cult vanished. Finding out where the last remaining members are is almost an impossible task. If there even are any - I doubt they’d wanna be found. For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.”

The atmosphere gets even more uneasy. If that’s even possible at this point. Seokmin scoffs and looks away, his hands in fists. You should know how to de-escalate but your head comes up empty. It’s almost as if there is an invisible barrier that forbids you from actually trying to be reasonable with Seokmin.

Just when Hyunwoo seems like he wants to say something, the door opens. One of the police officers, a woman with red hair you don’t know the name of, comes in.

“We have a situation,” she says and her eyes are full of something even you, a profiler, isn’t so sure what the meaning of is. It looks like fear, confusion, but also something like hope. Immediately, everyone gets up and follows her outside, where you spot the board with all the pictures of the victims on it… and a red thread connecting one of them to a new face.

“That’s the girl I talked to earlier.” Seokmin breathes and he looks over at Ruth, who nods.

“Yes, Detective. Jean told us that she knows one of the girls - Rebecca Twain. They used to go to the same church, same goes for her friend, Kelly, that she called in as abducted.”

Your eyes widen at that and you look over at Matt, who has his hand over his mouth, his face in a frown. A church. That fits the idea of the cult. All of you who were in the room earlier know that. This is good, this is an actual clue, one that might even lead to something after all!

“What church?” Bream now asks the police officer named Ruth.

“She wasn’t too sure. Said they haven’t been there in ages. She knew Rebecca when they were children and Kelly came to join them a few years later. But they haven’t gone to the church in at least 12 years. She said she would call us with more information, but so far she hasn’t.”

It doesn’t take a genius to understand why she hasn’t called the station yet. You sink down, leaning against one of the desks now, a hand rubbing over your face. This was bad. Seriously bad. Whenever a cult was involved in anything, it could only be so much worse than anticipated. Of course, her parents wouldn’t let her talk about it. Who would ever want to talk about something like this? Being part of a cult, if now or in the past - with everything happening these past years.

“We need to speak to her parents. Now.” Hyunwoo is already out the door, probably heading to his car and you look over at the rest of your team, who all seem more or less as lost as you. It turns out to be Seokmin who follows your team leader first and once you see his figure speed past you, you also begin to move.

The ride is quiet. Hyunwoo’s hands are white around the steering wheel. You sit next to him in the front, Seokmin in the back. All of this feels surreal to you and you are sure it’s not that different for Seokmin. Serial Killers were a constant part of both of your lives, but you - you haven’t been for a good amount of years. It’s like a bad taste in your mouth, as if somehow the food you would always cook perfectly suddenly went bad, had a foul ingredient in it, was cooked for too long. You’re not sure what it is, but it doesn’t sit right with you.

Seokmin, in the back seat, feels about the same as you. He is used to gruesome murders, to killers who don’t care about anything but themselves, but he isn’t used to having you around in all of this. Someone from his old life that he doesn’t associate with any of this. Never in a million years would he have predicted you becoming a federal agent. When you dated back in high school, you had always talked about wanting to go into politics, fighting for women’s rights, feminism, all that jazz. You had even applied to all the IVYs, wanting to study political science. So, how did you end up here?

“We will have to be careful.” Hyunwoo now breaks the silence and makes Seokmin and you look at him.

“The parents won’t be too happy to share their story, I can imagine. No one likes to admit they were in a cult, not after Manson.”

You nod and Seokmin scoffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms.

“One would think people wouldn’t even join any cults after Manson,” he says and Hyunwoo laughs bitterly, nodding slightly as he takes the next right at the intersection.

“Right. Sadly, it isn’t as easy as that.”

You look at Seokmin through the rearview mirror, watch how his jaw is tightened and how his arms are crossed, how his suit jacket is discarded next to him on the backseat. You wonder how long he has been part of this lifestyle, how long he’s been a cop. You hadn’t heard from him in years, not even when your friends offered to do some digging for you. It wasn’t because you weren’t interested. More so because you felt like you would get too invested. Looking away again, you straighten out your shoulders. This isn’t the time to think about the past, there are way more important things to focus your energy on.

Five minutes later, Hyunwoo finally parks the car in front of the house of the Roger’s and the three of you get out to walk over to the front door where Hyunwoo rings the doorbell twice. It only takes about twenty seconds before the door opens and a slim woman with bright red hair and red lips stands in front of you, an apron around her waist and a mitten in her hand.

“Yes?” She looks at you with blinking eyes and the three of you take out your respective badges. The woman’s eyes widen.

It is safe to say that getting information out of Jean’s parents is almost impossible. They are a middle class family with middle class friends, he works in real estate and she does her best to keep the house and children under control. They don’t want to talk about their past at the church, or more like, they try to deny it ever was a part of their lives. Talking to them comes close to talking to a wall, if the wall felt guilt and shame and was worried about its reputation. Only when you mention Jean for the third time, reassuring her parents that they aren’t in trouble and that no one was going to find out, that the only mission you had was to find the missing girl and find out who had killed the other innocent women - they budge.

Mr. Rogers gets up, a certain shake in his knees, and walks over to one of the dark hardwood dressers standing on the right side of the spacious living room, where he opens a drawer and takes out what looks like a little notebook. You, Hyunwoo and Seokmin look at him attentively.

“We haven’t talked to anyone from that church in years. Or well, we hadn’t. Up until a few weeks ago. You see, there used to be this… this farm. It was for retreats, we would go there every other month. Sing and pray, meet new people from other parts of the country,” he begins to explain as he walks back, reluctantly handing the notebook to you. Taking it with a small thank you, you look at the page he had opened it to and see a number and a name.

“This is the name and telephone number of the couple that bought the farm years ago. We- we haven’t been going to the retreats since 1961, but a couple weeks ago an old acquaintance from the church called us. Kathryn Anderson, she was pretty close to Pastor Brix-,” he stops himself mid sentence, “to, uh, to Mr. Brixley. She wanted to know if we knew who bought the farm.” “And what did you tell her?” Seokmin asks now.

“He told her no. That we were never interested in knowing,” Mrs. Rogers now answers the question for her husband, “you see, when we left the church it was mostly because of Jean. We figured after a while that perhaps this church wasn’t what we wanted for our daughter. So, we left. It wasn’t easy, but we did it. A couple months later, the whole thing fell apart anyway. Kathryn wasn’t around for that because she had been arrested about six months before we left the church. Got a good couple of years behind bars for attempted murder, the woman. When she got out, she couldn’t reach anyone - after all, the church didn’t exist anymore. Jonathan had perished, no one knows where he ended up and she was unsure what to do. So, she finally got a hold of us and wanted to know everything about the farm. But again, we told her we didn’t know who bought the farm. We just told her it was over and that she needed to find a different safety net.”

You look over at Hyunwoo, wondering if he thinks the same thing you do.

“But you obviously do know who owns the farm now.” He says calmly. The housewife swallows, then nods.

“We do. Paul actually sold the farm to them.”

How convenient, you think. Hyunwoo smiles and Seokmin clicks his tongue.

“I see. Well, thank you for the name and number, but now it would be great if you could also let us know the address.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, your arms crossed in front of your chest. Hyunwoo is sitting at his makeshift office desk, rubbing his temples.

“What exactly do you not understand, Y/N?”

“Why we need to go to the farm. Or no, why he and I need to go.”

“Don’t be stupid, Y/N. Matthew confirmed it, the cult used this farm back in the day. There could be a lead there. And you and Detective Lee are going because you’re my best agent and he’s their best detective. I also feel like you two need some bonding time. Honestly, I’ve got no clue what your issue is with him, but you’ll need to get your act together. This is a serious case and I can’t have you dislike the main detective.”

Dislike. That’s one word to describe it. You bite the inside of your cheek.

“So, you will drive to the farm with him and talk to the couple as well as check out the surroundings. See if you find anything that could be helpful to the case, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

Hyunwoo nods, satisfied. He then waves his hand, telling you to get out and do your job. You suppress a sigh and instead walk out and almost into your newly assigned partner - Seokmin. He looks about as happy about the situation as you feel, but neither of you says a word while you walk out of the precinct and to the car that would take you the 100 mile drive to Schnecksville, Pennsylvania.

“You drive.” Seokmin’s voice rips you out of your thoughts and you thankfully react quick enough and catch the keys he throws at you. Rolling your eyes, you walk over to the other side and open the car, sitting down in the driver’s seat. The second your door is closed and Seokmin’s door is closed, his presence almost drowns you.

“I was always better at reading maps than you,” he mumbles next to you and you feel your cheeks heat up and your stomach turn and you decide to ignore him and instead start the car.

Seokmin presses his lips together, the map on his lap and his heartbeat loud and clear in his ears. Bream really thinks he did something. Putting Seokmin in a car with you for the next two hours. Apparently, your little bit of tension did not remain unnoticed and now this was his punishment. But what was he supposed to do? Tell Bream that you were his ex-girlfriend from high school who he had left seven years ago with nothing better than a pathetic letter goodbye. It hadn’t been his finest moment, but god, he was nineteen. Back then, he had enlisted in the army after high school, something he was bound to do anyways, and being cowardly as he was, he just hadn’t felt like telling you in person. Then, when he had been discharged, he had signed up for the academy and here he is now. He knows he should say something, apologize for the way he left you. But his pride and the shame don’t let his lips move, don’t let the words come out. And so he just looks at the map and waits to give you instructions. That’s what he can do. That’s how he can cope with being next to you.

The drive is long and quiet and you turn on the radio at one point, listening to quiet music almost soothing. The highway is wide and the city is behind you and you wonder how long you’ll have to be in this car before your head starts to actually fume from all the thoughts running around.

When you see the sign for Schnecksville, you almost sigh in relief. Seokmin tells you which exit you have to take and you follow his instructions, wondering how you actually got through this drive without any actual communication besides his directions.

Schnecksville is filled with nothing and a gas station. You also pass a motel and a convenience store on your way to the farm that is a few miles away from the city center. Once you finally arrive, you can’t get out of the car quick enough, shoving the keys into your jacket when the car is locked. The farm is bigger than you had anticipated and Seokmin, who has discarded his jacket and hat on the backseat, looks just as surprised as you.

“Guess we have some ground to cover. Come on.” He takes the lead and you follow him, even though a part of you feels the need to run ahead. You don’t. You’re not a child.

The woman who opens the door is in her early sixties with graying hair and a cat in her arms.

When you and Seokmin introduce yourselves and show your badges, she gasps slightly.

“Oh, you know, my sweet peach always runs out when I open the door, she is sick, can’t really find her way back when she gets out. Come on in, agent, detective.”

Her name is Mabelle Travis and her husband is Keith Travis, but he isn’t at home right now. He is getting some groceries for them.

“How kind of your husband to help you with that,” you say as you sit down on the couch in the pastel colored living room. Mabelle nods, letting the cat back down.

“Oh, he is the one with the driver’s license, dear. I can only go grocery shopping if he comes with me. Or our son is in town.”

You nod and look over at Seokmin, who is looking at some of the family pictures on the dressers by the door.

“Your son doesn’t live with you, ma’am?” He asks and Mabelle shakes her head as she sits down on one of the horrifically green armchairs.

“No, Detective. He used to, you know, live with us. But that was before we bought the farm. My husband always dreamt of having a farm. When he retired, he thought it might just be the time.” She laughs and looks from Seokmin to you.

“But, what can I do for you?”

“Well, we were wondering if you’d be alright with us looking around the farm? We don’t know if you know, but the farm used to belong to a church before you bought it.”

“Ah, yes. We did know. I think that’s why we got it cheap. What exactly are you looking for, agent?”

“We’re not sure. But we think the church might have some connections to a case we are currently working on.”

Mabelle nods, her face in a frown.

“Oh my. Well, you’re in luck then. We bought the farm years ago, but only recently moved in. So, most of the barns are still untouched. Only this house has been through some construction,” the cat jumps up on her lap and Mabelle smiles down at it, her hand carefully caressing its fur.

“That’s good news, Mrs. Travis. We’ll go take a look then.” Seokmin nods his head towards the back door and you smile at Mabelle before getting up and following Seokmin outside. There are three barns in total - one is large and two are on the smaller side, leaving the two of you with enough ground to work with for the next few hours. You exchange looks and decide to check out the smaller space first, a barn that is completely bare except for a wooden table at the far right that holds a few blueprints. Seokmin checks them out, his eyes scanning them for anything out of the ordinary. You, meanwhile, begin to knock at the wall, listening for hollow spaces, but also come back with nothing. The barn seems as normal as a barn could be.

The second one is a little trickier. It’s not empty, instead it’s filled with boxes that, after checking as good as each and every one, all seem to be empty. You check your wrist for the time, wiping your forehead with the back of the other hand. You’ve really been at it for the last two hours.

“I think we should move on to the last barn. I doubt the rest will hold anything of worth. Come on.” Seokmin is next to you all of a sudden and you flinch, looking away from your watch and at the man, who has sweat dripping down his temple. His eyes are set on your face and you wonder if you look just as exhausted as he does. Clearing your throat, you nod and turn away from him, walking out of the barn and to the next one.

Seokmin sighs, following you outside and grabbing your arm once he catches up with you.

“Y/N, I am just as delighted about doing this with you as you are with me, believe me. But perhaps we should at least try to do our job.”

His words sting more than they should have and you are well aware of that. Funny to think that such wounds would have healed after seven years. You shake off his hand and turn around to face him.

“Oh, is that right, Seokmin? You’re just as delighted as I am?” You raise your eyebrows at him. “As far as I can remember, Detective, you left me with nothing more but a joke of a letter.”

Seokmin bites down on his tongue. You are right. Maybe it wasn’t right of him to compare the two of you.

“I know that. I know I hurt you. And I should have apologized for that years ago. I was young and-,”

“Let me guess? Stupid? That is in fact correct, Seokmin. But I don’t care about an apology, at least not anymore. I just want to get this over with, not have chit-chat with you about the past which neither of us can change anymore. So, will you go to the third barn with me so we can finally leave this stupid town?”

Seokmin watches you walk away, his heart heavier in his chest than before. He really should have reached out sooner. Pulling a hand through his hair, the detective suppresses another sigh and finally follows you to the third and last barn for you to check.

The Travises invite you for dinner and Seokmin and you are both too polite to decline. Thankfully Mabelle is incredibly talkative, loves telling you all the tales about their son, Henry, and how they used to live in the city but then moved to a smaller town. She is excited about her husband’s birthday coming up soon and Henry coming over to visit, and basically her favorite topic to discuss is him. You try your best to resist the urge to look over at Seokmin next to you, to see if he is as amused about this as you are. He is not your ally, not your friend. You shouldn’t be looking for his gaze, shouldn’t be curious of his thoughts.

“Does your son visit you often?” Seokmin now asks after taking a sip from his glass filled with tap water.

“Not as much as we’d like.” Mrs. Travis sighs and pats her husband’s hand.

“He is busy with working in the city, not always available.” Mr. Travis now explains and Seokmin and you nod. That makes sense. You try to remember the last time you had time to visit your own parents. You couldn’t even really remember.

“If there is something we want to check again, would it be alright if we came back?” Seokmin asks when you finally stand at the front door, saying your goodbyes. The Travises nod, allowing you to come back whenever. After waving at them you walk back to the car, Seokmin now getting into the driver’s seat. As you sit down on the passenger seat the atmosphere quickly becomes tense now that you’re alone again. The second your doors are closed, a familiar sound is heard.

“Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

Rain. It’s starting to rain. What starts with a few drops on the windshield turns into a full on piss of rain that has the both of you staring at the scene for a few seconds. When a second later you hear thunder so close it almost shakes the car, Seokmin reluctantly starts the engine.

There is no way in hell you can drive home in this weather. As much as the both of you hate it, you’ll have to stop somewhere and wait out the storm. Seokmin suggests the motel you had seen on your way here and you nod, knowing there wasn’t much else you could say or do. Having to stay somewhere with Seokmin, somewhere you couldn’t just flee from, seems like the number one worst scenario you could find yourself in. You look at him from the passenger seat, trying to my sly about it but of course he notices your eyes on his face.

“Believe me, I would rather not do this either, Y/N. But I’d rather be safe than drive on the highway in this weather.”

You don’t answer him. Mainly because you would have to tell him he is right and that’s most definitely not going to happen.

“What do you mean by that?” Seokmin looks at the bored looking woman in her fifties. She sighs and shoves the one room key towards him again.

“I mean, Sir, that there is only one room left. We are fully booked. Have you seen the rain?”

It’s very obvious a rhetorical question but Seokmin is about to go on a rant to tell the woman that, of course, he has seen the rain but how on earth does this justify there only being one room in a god damn motel miles away from any big city?

“We’ll take the room,” you quickly interject, handing the lady your credit card that she looks at with a straight face.

“Honey, you’re in the middle of nowhere. Do you really think we take those things?” You feel your cheeks heat up, retreating the card again.

“That’s 16.50$ for the night,” she continues and you hand her a twenty that she takes without a word, shoving the change over the wooden surface, “have a pleasant stay.” She shoves down the small plastic window and you and Seokmin exchange a quick look before making your way to the room you will now have to share.

There is only one bed. You stare at it and so does Seokmin. Because - of course there is. How could you have not asked the woman at the counter? But then again even if you had… there wasn’t much you could have done about it. Maybe a saw, you think, just saw it in half. The two of you stay silent for a good minute, before Seokmin finally sighs, pulling a hand over his face.

“Looks like we can’t do much about this. Just… it’s just one night, alright? We can do this.”

You don’t really understand why he would say that. Why he would speak for you, when you both know it isn’t okay and you most definitely can’t do this. You take a deep breath, throwing your bag onto the very dirty looking armchair next to the door.

“Whatever,” you respond, rolling your eyes as you make your way into the bathroom, if only to get away from Seokmin for a short while. His presence is stressing you out more than you thought it would. Perhaps that had been foolish of you - thinking this wouldn’t be the absolute worst thing to ever happen. But at the same time, it’s not like Hyunwoo had given you much of a choice. He had straight up told you to get your act together and yet… You sigh, the door closed next to you. The bathroom isn’t even half as bad as you had feared. It’s small and the shower could need a scrub (or three), but other than that it’s decent. The toilet looks clean and the mirror hanging over the sink shows you your exhausted face. Dark circles under your eyes that you touch with your cold finger tips. You remember how you looked back in High School. How much you smiled, how happy you were almost every single day. And all because of him. He, who promised you the world only to rip it away when you needed stability the most. It wasn’t fair. Him being here, him playing such a big role in something so important to you. Finding this killer that took lives like it was nothing. Seokmin is here with you and he sure as hell isn’t going anywhere else. The effect he has on you is annoying, to say the least. You don’t want to feel this way, feel insecure and small and like you need to prove yourself to him. He isn’t worth your energy, your thoughts. Not him as a person at least. Him as a Detective is a different story. Another deep breath followed by some water that you splash into your face, is what finally makes you step out again and face your ex-boyfriend that has taken a seat on the bed, the case file spread next to him.

He is handsome. High cheekbones, perfectly shaped eyebrows. His hair is styled back, but slowly the front strands are falling into his face. His face is in a small frown as he looks at the documents, as he tries to make sense where you all fail to find any. Your heart betrays you by skipping a beat, by suddenly sending a wave of sadness over you. He never told you why he left. He just did.

“Anything making more sense now?” You ask cautiously, walking over to him with slow steps. Seokmin looks up slightly before shaking his head.

“Not really,” he mumbles, “it doesn’t make sense. None of this. Why is he curving the crosses into their ears? Why is he choosing these girls specifically?” You sit down on the other side of the bed, gnawing on your lower lip.

“Well, Matthew told you our theory. Abusive mother, hatred towards women.”

“But why- why would he just go after any woman if his mother was a certain type?” Seokmin looks up at you and you feel a sting in your chest. You shrug.

“You’re right to question this theory. It’s not perfect and it will take a few years until we can really say that we have a high percentage of accurate profiles. So far we’ve been good, very good. But not as good as we can be. This unsub is unique because he doesn’t have a type - it almost seems random. Like he goes out on the street and sees a girl and just takes her,” you lick over your lips, letting your eyes wander to the window, the storm on full display, “he is violent, but he also kills them quickly. No signs of sexual abuse. It’s odd and not like anything we’ve seen before.”

Seokmin listens to you speak and allows himself to actually listen. The whole profiling thing - it most certainly hasn’t been something he trusted so far. But now, hearing your words, seeing the look on your face - he almost feels ashamed of his earlier suspicion.

“It’s just-,” he begins, his hand pulling through his hair, “it’s confusing. Why would he not go for people who look like his mother? Why is he not taking revenge on her over and over again?”

You feel your thoughts stumble over that sentence for a good thirty seconds. Seokmin is right - why wouldn’t he take revenge on his mother over and over again? Why would he kill women that look nothing like her? Without really noticing, you get up, your feet carrying you over to the window, staring at the rain outside, hoping it would give you the clue you so desperately need right now.

“You agree, don’t you? That it is odd!” Seokmin gets up too, only to turn around and look at the files again, his arms crossed, eyes scanning all the pictures and clues the team has gathered so far.

“Yes, it definitely is odd,” you mumble, heart racing in your chest.

“Okay. We’ll go over this again. There has to be something we’re missing. A connection between them, a club they all go to. Anything, just… fuck, it feels as if there is clue right there, hidden in plain sight and we are missing it because it’s too damn obvious!”

Hidden in plain sight. You blink against your reflection in the window. Hidden in plain sight. Matthew had said the same thing back at the precinct.

For all we know, they could be hiding in plain sight and we wouldn’t know.

You swirl around, eyes wide and Seokmin looks at you with a confused expression.

“What?”

“The barn,” you breathe, eyes flickering to the table, where the car keys lay right where Seokmin left them, “we need to go back.”

Seokmin tries to stop you, the storm still howling outside, but you’re not letting him. This is too important, too obvious. You want to kick yourself for not realizing it earlier. For seeing something that was right there, but not actually seeing it.

You run to the car, soaked from head to toe when you sit down on the driver’s seat. The door to the passenger seat opens and Seokmin plops down, just as drenched as you are.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, will you tell me what the fuck is happening right now?”

Instead of answering, you start the engine, the wipers doing their best to clear your view.

“Y/N!” Seokmin repeats loudly and you let out a breath you hadn’t even realized you were holding.

“It has to be in there! In the barn. All those god damn empty boxes. One of them has to have something in it, something they don’t want us to find. Fucking hell, we could have had the whole team here by now, Seokmin! If only we hadn’t been lazy!”

“Wait, hold on. So you think the Travises have something to do with this?” Seokmin asks and you shrug.

“Honestly? I don’t think they do. But it’s still their property now. And most of these boxes are theirs. I’m sure we’ll find something there. We just have to look at every single box.”

You’re almost in a haze, Seokmin thinks. Your eyes have completely changed and the way you drive this car would have been scary if only you weren’t so damn impressive. You have been impressive the whole day, Seokmin thinks. He would never say it out loud (not to you at least) but this job seems to fit you like a glove. Never did it cross his mind back in High School that you’d end up in the same field as him. He gulps down the nostalgia and instead looks out the window, wondering if the rain will stop anytime soon.

It hasn’t been long since the two of you left the Travises and yet, when you arrive, the house is dark. Checking your watch you see it's already after 9pm.

“They said we can come back whenever.” You say more to yourself than Seokmin, but the latter still nods, cursing under his breath when he steps out of the car and into the horrible weather. You run alongside him, passing the house and first barn, setting foot in the one you had a hunch about with both of you drenched from head to toe. Ignoring the cold creeping up, you begin examining the boxes once again. There is nothing extraordinary about them. They are the usual cardboard boxes one uses for moves, all over the country. It’s nothing you haven’t seen thousand of times before and-

“Y/N, look at this.” Seokmin’s voice fills the silence that has only been accompanied by the sound of rain and thunder before. Looking over at him, you see that he is holding up two different boxes upside down. There is a green dot on both of them. Your eyes widen. Quickly, you check your own box - but nothing. There is no dot. Confusion mixed with frustration begins to rise within you and you throw the box to the side, pulling clam hands through wet hair.

“There has to be a system,” you mumble, closing your eyes as you try to calm yourself down. Seokmin hears your words and looks around the room, trying to make sense of how the boxes are lined up. They all look the same. They were all stacked the same when you came in earlier today. There isn’t anything about them that makes one different from the other - except for the dots he had discovered. His brain is working at full speed, his eyes roaming from one side of the room to the other. Only when he looks down, does he see something.

“Y/N, look,” he puts the two boxes he held up to the side and crouches down, your figure standing over him a second later. There were clear lines painted on the floor. He looks up at you and you feel your eyes beginning to shake, as you move as quickly as possible, shoving more boxes to the side and focusing on the floor. And yes, only a few moments later you find yet another line, one that contains boxes with more dots - orange ones. But it doesn’t stop there. Seokmin finds another line and boxes that, once again, don’t have a dot. He wants to pull his hair out, but once you begin looking at the boxes with him, your gaze full of determination, he calms down. Together, the two of you turn over every single box until, after what feels like hours, you let out a gasp. The box you’re holding now doesn’t only have a red dot on it - it also contains something. Seokmin is next to you right when you pull out the small key that makes both of you almost jump in glee. Your hunch had been right. Now all you had to do was find where the key belonged. Your eyes met and without words, Seokmin went to the left side of the room and you to the right one, both of your hearts beating at rapid speed at this point. Neither of you wants to or will leave this place until you find whatever door is hidden behind the wooden planks decorating the walls. Your hands flew over them, knocking to hear a hollow sound, anything that would indicate there being a hidden space. Nervous sweat was now mixing with the rain on your face, the earlier cold all forgotten thanks to the adrenaline you were feeling.

“I got something!” Seokmin suddenly yells after a few minutes and you immediately turn and run over to him, seeing him break the wall free of the plank. Just that there is no wall. It is a thin wooden door with a small lock that looks like it was made for the key safely stored inside the pocket of your jeans. Without any hesitation, you move forward, key back in your hand after pulling it out, and reuniting it with its lock - the door clicking open a second later. Seokmin and you look at each other again before you push the door with your hand, it easily swings open for you and Seokmin to see a narrow hallway led down by an old looking staircase. There is a string hanging down from the ceiling which Seokmin pulls on, lighting up the hallway for you to see more clearly.

“Well, let’s go,” you say and Seokmin nods, both of you with one hand on your gun belts as you walk down the stairs, all the way down to a door that, thankfully, isn’t locked. Pushing this one open as well, you are met by another hallway, longer this time, with three doors leading to different rooms on each side. You feel adrenaline rush through you as you begin walking, Seokmin right behind you. The first two doors lead to empty storage rooms, you taking the ones on the left, Seokmin on the right. Your hands feel clammy and your senses are all heightened as you continue to the next door, opening it at once and checking the insides carefully, gun in your hand. No one is in there - but it’s also not empty.

“Seokmin!” You call out and the man is beside you right then, eyes scanning the room. It’s an office, or at least it appears to be. Right on the wall across from you hangs a portrait of a beautiful landscape and only barely hides a very obvious closet of some sorts. You shove your gun back into your belt and walk straight up to it, while Seokmin goes to examine the desk standing at the left side of the room. He pulls out a pair of gloves from the inside pocket of his jacket and pulls them over his fingers before he begins to open each and every drawer.

“There isn’t much dust around here,” you suddenly say and Seokmin looks over at you.

“What do you mean?”

“Someone comes here regularly. Cleans it of dust, keeps the floors clean.” You look around for a moment, then your focus is back on the painting hanging over the closet. Your hands are also wrapped up in a pair of gloves and you move slowly as you grab the edges of the frame to heave it off the wall. It occurs to you that the last time someone was here, they hadn’t succeeded in putting the painting back into its usual spot. You can tell because it comes off the wall without any problems, having been crooked from the beginning on. Now, you lean it against the wall next to you, before your hands open the closet.

“Is something in there?” Seokmin walks over to you now, nothing interesting inside the desk.

Once he comes to a halt next to you, he feels himself gasp. There is a whole shelf with files that seem to be alphabetically organized. Your heart beat speeds up once more as you grab a random file (Br-Bu) and open it.

“That-,” Seokmin’s eyes widen. As you continue staring at the page, he moves to pull out more of the files. He brings them over to the desk and opens them one by one, until he finds all the names he has been looking for.

“Broshard, Cartwright, Franco, Rogers, Twain and White.”

Seokmin and you are staring at the files. It was all of the girls’ parents. They had all been part of this cult before. It made sense, of course it did. And yet, having it here, black on white, was still a shock. This meant their connection had been right there, so easy to grab, and none of the parents had thought about sharing this with the police. You lean against the desk, hands pulling through your damp hair. Seokmin’s hands are propped on his hips, his eyes reading over the names over and over again.

“We have confirmation now,” he states, “we need to call the precinct.” He looks over at you and you nod, your hands still resting in your hair. Worry rushes through Seokmin and he finds himself standing in front of you a second later, his hands around your wrists to bring your hands back down softly.

“We will get him,” he says then, eyes boring into yours, “we will get him and he will be punished, Y/N, I promise you.”

It’s unprofessional, he knows it and so do you. You don’t ever promise to catch a killer.

“Why didn’t the parents tell you?” Your voice is quiet and Seokmin sighs, shrugging. His hands are still holding you.

“I don’t know. Shame, fear? Whoever is doing this is a cold blooded murder, Y/N, they were probably scared he’d take even more from them.”

“More than a child?” You look up at him, letting the feelings that you’ve been holding back finally crack through.

“I guess so? We will find all of this out tomorrow, we just need to get back to the motel and call the precinct.”

He says the words but doesn’t move. Neither do you. You both stay right where you are, your eyes locked on each other. The air around you shifts, the exhaustion mixes with something you only have faint memories of.

“You are incredible, do you know that?” Seokmin whispers finally, “the way your brain works - it’s incredible. Admirable.”

His body heat engulfs you, makes you feel hot and cold at the same time. You swallow down your doubts and instead let your heart do the talking.

“You’re just as incredible, Seokmin. All the work you’ve done in this case already… if it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be here right now.”

Seokmin feels himself holding his breath as his one hand moves from your wrist to your fingers, interlocking them with his own while the other moves up, cupping your cheek, thumb caressing the side of your chin. He feels your skin, the softness he remembers better than he wants to admit.

Neither of you is sure who does it. Who dares to close the distance. But you’re kissing, his lips warm and familiar on yours. Your arms move by themselves, wrapping around Seokmin’s neck as he deepens the kiss, his tongue licking over your bottom lip slowly, asking for entrance that you give him without any hesitation. He kisses better than he did back in high school and his hands are more experienced, moving down and up to grab your hips and hoist you on top of the desk, standing in between your legs now. You grab his face, your tongue licking against his, feeling the stress and discomfort of the day leave you with every touch of his skin. The kiss grows more and more desperate, both of you panting against each other and only after a good five minutes do you part, his hands in your hair and yours on his nape.

“We should get out of here,” he mumbles against your lips then and you nod, letting him help you down the desk.

This time the drive isn’t awkward. It’s filled with something else, something you haven’t felt in so long. Not just regarding Seokmin - but in general. Your work is your everything and you and your team travel around the country more than you don’t. Wanting someone, feeling wanted by someone, this hasn’t happened to you in a while. Your gaze keeps wandering to the driving Seokmin, to the man that had once hurt you so much and now was the only thing you could concentrate on.

“If you don’t stop looking at me like that I will park this car on the side of the road and not give a fuck about anyone seeing what I want to do to you, Y/N.”

His deep voice made your insides turn deliciously, the heat between your legs rising as you licked over your dry lips, eyes shaking as you nodded, averting your gaze from Seokmin’s intoxicating frame. As much as the idea excited you it also seemed like a stupid idea considering the motel really wasn’t that far away.

It doesn’t take half as long as it usually would with Seokmin speeding down the road, finally parking the car in the parking lot, getting out of the car and opening the door for you, his hand around yours in no time as he leads you to the door, both of you drenched again when you step inside. But even with all the tension between you two, Seokmin walks over to the telephone on the wall, passing a young man who just seemed to have left his room to go outside. You present him with a nod when he smiles at you, quick to look at Seokmin again who is now dialing the number of the precinct.

When he explains what you found, he speaks quietly and rushed, you by his side the whole time, holding his fingers between yours. The tension doesn’t subside, it only gets shoved to the side as Seokmin talks to his superior, who was still at the station at this time, waiting for your call. Your head feels dizzy, the situation bizarre but also somewhat addictive. The second Seokmin hangs up, knowing his colleagues will leave for Schnecksville as soon as the storm gets better, he wraps an arm around your waist and leads you to your room with hurried steps.

The door falls shut behind the two of you and your body is pressed against it, Seokmin’s one hand skillfully wrapped around both of your wrists, pinning them over your head as he dips down to kiss you, his thigh pressing between yours. A moan escapes you, your hands wiggling under Seokmin’s grasp. He kisses you with the same desperation as before, his free hand underneath your shirt, fingers pressing into your skin.

Nothing is inside your head except the need for him. You don’t want to feel anything but his touch, his kisses, the way his tongue feels against yours - hot and wet and perfect. He moves his arm around you again, picks you up as if you weigh nothing, carrying you over to the bed where he drops you, your eyes wide as you stare up at him. There is no light in the room beside the one coming from outside, making him look angelic. His carefully styled hair is falling into his face now, his lips red from your kisses. His pupils are blown out and the look in his eyes runs shivers down your spine. You watch as he gets rid of his jacket and belt, following his movement as you sit up a little bit, skillfully opening the belt with your gun and leaving it on the floor next to the bed, feeling the mattress move the next second as Seokmin lowers himself onto the bed. Your hands find his nape once more just as he presses his lips against yours again, hands roaming from your hips to your stomach and under your shirt, gripping your breasts one by one and moaning into your mouth when his thumb feels the stiff nipple underneath your bra.

His tongue licks against yours again, your back arching against him as he moves to kiss down your neck, biting and licking and kissing all the same. When he hears your sounds, he feels himself growing harder, his composure almost breaking as he takes off your shirt with your help, shoving the cups of your bra to the side to dip down and suck your nipple into his mouth, your legs wrapping around his waist as you push him closer to you, teeth sinking into you bottom lip. It feels like electricity between you, the way he touches you sends shocks through your body in the best way possible.

“God, I can’t believe I have you under me again, fuck,” Seokmin breathes against your neck now, his breath tickling you. “Been thinking about you so much, you know? About how much more I know now… how I can make you cum, baby, eat your sweet pussy and have you scream my name.”

His words send another wave of shivers down your body and you nod, wishing for nothing more than for your and his clothing to land on the floor.

“Seokmin… just want you to fuck me, please, need you so so bad.”

He groans, cock twitching and he finally moves to open his pants. It’s all hurried and a little bit frantic, the way you pull on his shirt next and the way your bra basically gets ripped off your frame by him. It drives you crazy, how he kisses you, pushing you further up the bed, your head hitting the pillow as he devours your lips and tongue, his hand squeezing your tits over and over, his stiff cock right there between your legs, still caged in by his briefs.

“How bad do you want it, hm?” He breathes out, his fingers now moving downwards, ending up over your clothed pussy, making you squirm.

“Fuck, so bad, Seokmin. Please.”

He sucks on the skin underneath your ear and lets his fingers shove your panty to the side, sliding through your wet folds and moaning against you. You’re so wet, wet and ready for him.

“I wonder if you still taste the same, baby,” he mumbles, continuing to let his fingers glide through your lips, letting one of them sink into you. Your pussy practically sucks him in, eager to feel him inside. Seokmin kisses you again and your nails are dragging along his back as your hips move against Seokmin’s digit inside of you.

“M-more, want more of you,” you cry out when you come up for air and Seokmin nods, letting a second finger slide in too, fully finger fucking you now as he smothers your neck with more kisses, preceding to suck marks onto the sensitive skin of your breasts, your whimpers becoming more and more frenzied. You need his cock and you need it now. So, you let your hand wander down, grabbing around the wrist of his hand that is currently fucking you.

“Want your cock, Seok… fuck me with your cock.” His eyes meet yours, gaze almost crazy as he curses under his breath, nodding before pulling his fingers out of you, bringing them to his mouth to suck them clean - making you whimper in the process. He licks his lips after.

“Still so tasty, baby… all for me.”

He kisses you one more time, deep and emotional and dizzying, before finally ridding himself of his briefs and you of your panties, hand pumping his length a few times. You watch and swallow, remembering how he had felt back then. He had been your first. And now he was going to claim back what he had made his so many years ago.

When he sinks into you, both of you cry out in pleasure, his arms on the mattress next to your head and his lips kissing your cheek, chin and lips. You are still hugging him close, fingers pressing into his nape and back. His first thrust is deep and slow and your eyes roll back, a long moan escaping your kiss-bruised lips. He can’t keep going slow, he knows that. As hard as he tries - he knows he won’t be able to control himself. Which leads to his thrusts becoming faster, to his moans becoming louder and your pussy clenching around him more often. It’s hot and wet and quick, it’s making you feel like you’re in a dream, his teeth sinking into your flesh, your cries spurring him on. Your legs are around his hips, his cock hitting you right where you need it to with every thrust and when you feel his hand sneaking in between you, thumb pressing down on your clit, rubbing it in perfect circles, you know you won’t last long.

“You feel so good, baby, take my cock so fucking well.” He moves, on his knees in front of you now, your legs over his shoulders the next second. The new angle makes you see stars, especially with his thumb still on your clit.

“F-fuck, Seok! I’m so close.” Your cry makes him smirk, his movements becoming less and less controlled, as he is chasing both of your releases. You give up on keeping your eyes open, enjoying the way he feels, the way he hits you right where it feels so incredibly good. Your body is on fire, everything feels more intense and if you had the capacity in your brain you’d probably worry about exploding.

And you do - you explode only a few seconds later, your orgasm hitting you hard, leaving you to cry out his name, nails back in his skin, leaving clear marks that he will be proud of later.

“That’s right, baby, look at you, so pretty coming on my cock, fuck,” Seokmin feels you pulsate around him, feels how your pussy clenches over and over, milking him for all he has and there isn’t anything he can do but reach his own high, cum shooting out his cock and into your spent core. He collapses on top of you, your legs falling off his shoulders, spasming at the intensity of your climax. His breath is right there in your ear and you finally open your eyes again, fingers moving to stroke through his hair. You stay like this for a while, just catching your breath, feeling him so close after so long. Only when he slips out of you, laying down next to you, his lips pressing a kiss to your cheek, do you regain some senses. Smiling at him, you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.

When you come back out, Seokmin is asleep. Chuckling, you pick up his shirt from the floor and slip it over your head before laying back down, cuddling into his side and letting yourself drift off into a dreamless sleep.

For Seokmin it’s not a dreamless sleep, though. It hasn’t even been two hours he’s been asleep when he wakes up, cold sweat covering his body. He looks down and sees you peacefully sleeping right beside him, one of your hands on his bare stomach, the other under your own cheek. In any other case he would have loved to look at you for as long as he could, but this isn’t like any other case.

The man, he thinks, the man we saw yesterday. Seokmin gets up, careful not to wake you up, grabbing his underwear from the floor, just like his pants. You’re in his shirt so he has no other choice but to leave the room with his chest still bare. His feet carry him out the room and to the small entrance space, right to the phone where he dials Bream’s number again. The second someone picks up, Seokmin begins talking.

“It’s the son, Sir, the Travises son - he’s the unsub.”

The area in front of the farm hasn’t been this busy in years. There are cop cars everywhere, a S.W.A.T team is about to arrive. Seokmin has his hands pushed into his pockets as he talks to his superior officer. You are standing further away next to Matthew and Yuqi, listening to Hyunwoo’s orders.

Seokmin had recognised the son, Henry, from the pictures at the house. You feel stupid for not realizing it sooner.

“Don’t linger on those feelings, Y/N,” Hyunwoo says, “it had been a long day.”

Yes, a long day that ended with you being too horny to do your job properly. You don’t tell him that of course. Instead, you press your lips together and just nod.

Henry is inside the barn now, the barn you and Seokmin found the secret door in last night. His parents and the missing girl, Kelly, are with him. It’s a classic hostage situation and yet even your team is at a loss of words. It all doesn’t make sense right now. Why is Henry doing this? You let your gaze flicker over to the barn, wondering what he is doing to them right now.

The head of the S.W.A.T team is walking over to Hyunwoo now. They apparently arrived just now

“We are ready for your orders, Sir,” he says, shaking Hyunwoo’s hand. Your boss nods.

“Alright, thank you. I’ll let you know when you can go in.” The man leaves again after that and you look at Hyunwoo, unsure.

“We need him alive, don’t we?”

“In theory, yes. But it’s not always easy, you know that. Whatever is going on inside of him, we will only find out if we get him out, but we need to look at the bigger picture. We need to figure out what his deal is.”

Just then, Jungwoo arrives at the scene, carrying a white box.

“You won’t believe this,” he says, putting the box on top of the police car next to you. Seokmin is suddenly next to you, his arm brushing against yours and making you shiver. You ignore the effect once again.

“Henry Crawl, 36, was adopted by the Travises when he was 9 years old. It says here that his mother committed suicide and the Travises took him in - Mrs. Travis being is paternal aunt. She felt responsible for him, considering the father left right after his birth and his mother died.”

“So, they aren’t his biological parents. They didn’t mention that.” Seokmin frowns.

“Which means that there is a chance his mother was part of this cult. Is there an autopsy report for his mum?” You take step closer to the box and Jungwoo nods, handing you the document. Scanning it, your eyes widen as suddenly the reason for all of this is starting to make sense.

“There were signs of abuse - of years of abuse. Scars, bruises, internal damages.” You shake your head, “he isn’t killing women because he hates them. He kills them because he is avenging his mother.”

“She was part of the cult, probably around the same time as the parents of the girls. They probably knew about the abuse and he somehow figured it out.” Matthew chews on his bottom lip as he shoves his glasses up his nose.

“We need to talk to him. Need him to let the girl go as well as his parents.” Hyunwoo looks over at the truck where all the special units are gathered. He excuses himself and goes over to them. The atmosphere shifts, there are nervous droplets of sweat running down your face. The storm might have stopped, but it’s still slightly drizzling down on you. Seokmin’s hand finds the small of your back. You flinch, your head turning to look at him wide eyed.

“It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to get them out of there,” his voice is soothing you, as much as you hate to admit it. You swallow down whatever you’re thinking and shake his hand off, before walking over to Hyunwoo and the special forces, leaving Seokmin behind.

“I want to talk to him.” Your voice breaks through the conversation Hyunwoo is having with the captain. Both of them look at you, eyebrows raised.

“Y/N-,” Hyunwoo starts, but you interrupt him.

“You know it has to be me. I am roughly the same age as his mother was back then. I am a woman. I know what is going on inside his head. Please, Sir, let me do this.”

If there had been more time, maybe they would have argued with you. But there isn’t any time. And so, they nod. As much as it makes you nervous, you also know that you’re right. You’re confident that you can do this, that you have the ability to save this girl and Henry’s parents. Taking a deep breath, you look over at Seokmin, who’s eyes speak more than a thousand words. He knows why you walked over there and he knows that you are the only one for the job. The smile on his lips reassures you more than you want to admit.

Not even five minutes later you have a walkie-talkie in your hand. The other one landed in the barn roughly a minute ago. Now, you’re waiting for Henry to respond after your first attempt at contact. The rain is still falling softly, the sun nowhere to be seen in the sky. It’s early, you’re not sure how early, but you estimate it to be sometime after 6 am.

“I won’t let them go!” The voice coming from the device in your hand brings you back to the here and now, blood rushing in your ears.

“Henry, hello, it’s good to hear your voice,” you say softly, looking over at one of the windows of the barn, wondering if he is watching you.

“I don’t- I won’t let them go,” he repeats and you lick your dried out lips.

“Okay, Henry. I hear what you’re saying, alright? You don’t want to let them go. Could you tell me why?”

“They need to pay for their sins!” It’s not hard to make out that he’s enraged, crying, but still hurt and confused.

“What are their sins, Henry? Can you tell me?” You look over your shoulder at the rest of your team, Hyunwoo nodding at you and you nod back.

“You- you really want to know?” The shift in his voice tells you that your question had been exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Yes, Henry. I want to know, I want to understand.”

There is silence on the other line for just a few moments. You remain calm and don’t ask again. It’s important you give him space, important for the hostages as well as to earn his trust.

“They- they knew about my mum. My adoptive parents. I heard them say it. They knew why the police came to visit. It was because of her, because of mum. She was tortured by them, by the whole cult! And everyone who knew about it and didn’t do anything needs to be punished.” His voice is shaking as he speaks and you wonder if the hostages are in the room with him or if he has them hidden underneath the barn in one of the rooms you found last night.

“You’re doing this for your mum, Henry? You’re avenging her life?”

“Yes!”

“I understand. You did well, Henry. You hurt them the way they hurt you. They should have never taken your mother from you, Henry, that was wrong of them,” the words leaving your mouth aren’t what you’re actually thinking, but they will do the trick. Henry will trust you, he will listen to what you have to say.

“I- I did this for her. I wanted her to know I never gave up on her. B-but-,” he stops and you hear a sob, sure now that he is indeed crying.

“But? You can talk to me Henry, I am here for you.” You bite your lip, hoping you’re not pressing the matter too far.

“B-but…,” Henry starts again, “but he- he betrayed me. He told me- he told me they were the only one’s at fault. He told me he wanted to avenge her too…”

He? You once again turn to your team, all of their faces in frowns.

“Who is “he”, Henry?”

No answer. Henry isn’t responding. You feel a slight panic arise inside of you.

“Henry, it’s okay. You don’t need to tell me, okay? Just- tell me about you, about your mum. You must miss her dearly, right?”

“My mum deserved better than what she got. She shouldn’t have killed herself, she should have fought through it! But she couldn’t. She was so scared of what they had done to her, what he had done to her! I wanted them all to suffer, wanted them all to know what it feels like losing someone they love. And I did that, I did that to him too!” He gets louder with every word.

“Henry, you’re frustrations are valid. But, please, it is enough. You’ve showed them, you’ve hurt them. Enough people have died, Henry. Let your parents and Kelly go and you will be free.”

Henry is silent for a short while again.

“If he doesn’t respond, we’ll go in,” the S.W.A.T team’s leader is now saying to Hynwoo and latter holds up his hand, as if to signal to give it more time.

“Henry? Can you do that for me?” You ask again. Everyone is growing more and more uneasy, the more time passes. Your hands are sweaty and you feel like the rain isn’t the reason for why your clothes are damp again. Just when Hyunwoo is about to take his hand down, to let the special unit do their job - the doors of the barn open and Kelly runs out, the Travises right behind her. They all seem completely out of it but there are clear signs of relief on their faces. Seokmin and Stolper run towards them, helping them when they see, that Mr. Travis is limping and both women are spurting wounds on their face. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before pressing the button to talk again.

“Henry? Henry, are you there?”

“My parents always loved me. They raised me when mum died. But they knew, you know. They knew! Which means, they need to suffer, too.”

Your heart skips a beat when you throw the walkie-talkie to the side and run towards the barn, your team right behind you. You don’t think you’ve ever run as fast as you do right now. The air is tight around you and its rough to breathe.

Henry is right there at the back of the barn, holding a gun to his head. You scream and Hyunwoo shoots forward to tackle him down - but it’s too late. The shot is heard but your eyes are closed, your knees growing weak but you stay standing. Henry is dead even before he hits the floor and there is nothing you can do.

The hostages are free, so it counts as a win. The Manhattan Slasher is finally caught. He lays there, dead on the ground. He is getting carried away now, by two coroners who present you with a nod as you wait for Matthew and Jungwoo to come back upstairs. You hadn’t felt like you could go downstairs and see whatever Henry had left for you to find.

You're sitting outside now, seeing Seokmin approach you, with a file in his hands. You look up at him, blinking against the rain. When he stands in front of you, it’s almost like the sun showed its face after all. He isn’t smiling, though. He just radiates this energy that immediately gets your spirits up.

“The judge,” he says, handing you the file, “it’s all in here. He was the one controlling Henry. Told him all those parents were the reason his mum suffered. And while it’s not all a lie - the judge himself was the actual perpetrator.”

With a slightly shaking hand, you reach for the file and open it, reading through what is evidence of Seokmin’s words. Now, this was something neither you nor your team has predicted. You swallow down a set of tears.

“He used Henry. But for what?”

“My guess is as good as yours, but, if I may try myself at your job: They probably got fed up with his shit. Told him they would rat him out to the police if he didn’t turn himself in for abusing that woman. He began killing their children as a way to keep them quiet. My guess is, that he has been keeping them quiet ever since Henry’s mum committed suicide and they all only recently began to wonder if maybe this was wrong.”

Seokmin’s words reach your brain and they make sense as much as they don’t. You’ve been working this job long enough to know that there will never be something as full closure. People act irrationally all the time, do things no one understands. There is nothing you can do about it but wait it out, wait for the injustice to die down within you. In the end there is no point to try and understand people like this. Not that these parents deserved to have their daughters get killed.

You thank Seokmin with a small nod and he sits down next to you. Next there will be the arrest of the judge. Then the parents will be questioned, and will get a punishment of their own because they didn’t stop the murders when they had the chance. You know they couldn’t because they were scared, but the law is clear.

You feel Seokmin’s hand capturing yours and you look over at him. The business around the farm isn’t done yet. Boxes get carried and there is more forensic personnel than you’ve seen in a while, probably taking apart the basement you and Seokmin had found. It should be relief you’re feeling but right now you’re just tired.

So, when Seokmin pulls you against him, arm around your waist, you don’t even try to stop yourself from laying your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes.

header by @wongyuseokie.

#fic recs #madsfic #v fun v crime

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cthulhus-curse · 1 day ago

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˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰Power bottom Reader/needy service top Vi꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄

Vi would practically beg to fuck you, to eat you out or so much as look at you. She would do whatever it takes for your attention. Anything you give her, she gets off on.

Vi who packs and has a very thick, girthy packer that is shown off perfectly whenever she wears grey sweats. She would confidently walk around with you, her smile dashing as she exudes dominance. But little does anyone know, deep down she is nothing but a whiny, needy girl who has to beg to touch you.

"Please, please, please," Vi pants, her lips on your stomach. You straddle her lap, your cunt brushing against the swell on her boxers, leaving a wet patch there. Your eyes admire the state your partner is in -- desperately pouting in the nude, her pierced nipples and musculature in full display, along with her happy trail running beyond her belly button. "Hmph- Y/N. Need you- badly-"

"That's not how we ask for permission to touch, is it?" You remind her, eyebrows shooting up. But you know Vi is far too hazy by now to formulate a proper thought. She stupidly begins thrusting her hips in no apparent direction, stroking your pussy folds, so wet for her already, with her packer. "You need to use your words if you want it, sweetheart. Won't you be a good girl for me? I know you can do it, baby. Come on, just for me."

"Wan' touch," Vi pants. There are tears running down her flushed cheeks as she tries to rub her legs together to find some relief, but you don't let her. "Please, can I touch? I'll- I'll make you feel better, promise."

You sink down on her lap further, letting out an exaggerated moan at the feeling on her cock flicking upon your clit. "Is that so?"

"Yes. Yes!" Vi almost excitedly swears. Her hands shake as they sit on your waist, her lips coming to rest in the valley between your breasts. "Please?"

"Go on, sweetheart. Make me feel good."

Her tongue feels hot on your pussy. Vi by no means is patient, flicking it roughly, slurping your juices that she deems a delicacy. As you lay back with Vi down between your legs, she takes the opportunity to hump the mattress, her packer feeling warm against her with her friction.

Her lips make out with your lower ones, fighting for a dominance she cannot uphold. She spends hours simply licking and sucking on your cunt, worshipping its surface glossy with a mixture of your fluids and her saliva. The tip of her tongue drifts inside, fucking your hole as per your orders. At first Vi is shy, unsure, but as you tug at her hair, she understands your need for her to go faster.

Even after you cum, Vi is forced into continuing. "Good girl," you tell her, your voice husky as you admire the sight of your partner desperately eating your pussy. "Such a good girl, baby. The best."

When she eventually moves upwards, holding herself up above you with a proud smile, albeit soft, you cup her face. Vi's chin is drenched in cum that oozes downwards. She licks her lips, sitting atop you, her packer nudging you, before shyly speaking.

"Did I do well?" Vi wonders.

You know how badly she requires validation -- it gets her off, makes her feel worthy of your attention. "Of course, sweetheart. You did so, so well for me."

#arcane vi x reader #vi imagines #vi smut #vi x reader #vi x fem reader #vi x you #vi x y/n #arcane vi x you

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chuuqqi · 2 days ago

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♡ྀི ₊ borrowed

️️️⠀ ⠀️️️ ⤷ roronoa zoro ❤︎

꒰ summary: wearing a piece of clothing owned by the swordsman was not a sight he'd ever imagined enjoying as much as he did. ꒱

꒰ contents: fluff fluff fluff! reader is shy & a little flirty. zoro is head over heels for reader. very soft & flustered zoro <3 ꒱

꒰ notes: i have really been craving some soft zoro content and this popped in my head and i HAD to write it out ^_^ ꒱

♡ + ⤿ are very much appreciated ૮ ྀི◞ ⸝⸝ ◟ ྀིა !

zoro had always admired you from afar.

you were beautiful, kind, and merry. you moved so gently, as if all would shatter if you didn't do so. you spoke in such a sweet and melodious voice that every time he heard you, his heart would involuntarily skip a beat. you treated everyone on the crew so lovingly that there were many a times he wished he had even a sliver of the goodness that you had.

despite his stoic demeanour, it crumbled every time you were around. he couldn't help the pink that painted his cheeks, his heart that felt like it would thump out of his chest, his mouth that stumbled on his words. you turned him into pile of mush with your presence alone and it was maddening to him.

though secretly, he revelled in this newfound feeling — if it was with you he got to explore it with.

he didn't think there were any more ways for you to make his heart flutter and stomach churn with reverence. that was, until he saw you wear one of his t-shirts.

he did not own many so he wondered how you'd got a hold of it in the first place. he wondered why you chose his t-shirt out of all the others. had you chosen his on purpose? the thoughts clouding his mind were driving him insane.

seeing you engulfed in his top made his entire body turn to goo. it hung on your frame, clinging onto your divine curves. your chest was more exposed than usual which resulted in a blush to tinge his face when he realised he'd been staring for a bit too long.

he couldn't exactly understand why it was so endearing to him that you were wearing his clothes — it could be that he felt a sense of pride wash over him, making him feel as if you were branded his now. he'd give you every top he owned and relish in the sight.

you were sat on the swing with a book on your lap as you swayed mindlessly. the sunlight bore down on you, illuminating your features in a manner that made you prettier than ever. he had just taken note that the t-shirt's length was long enough to cover the shorts you wore underneath. that allowed him to admire your plush thighs as they squeezed together to keep the book in place.

zoro just stared from the rails. he wanted to come sit by you and ask you why you were wearing his t-shirt. it was a simple question. it was not a difficult task. he had done so much worse before and he had never floundered.

so why did he feel so nervous in this moment?

he felt foolish that out of everything he was capable of doing, this is what rendered him hopeless. "i am so lame", he thought, mentally giving himself a face palm at his idiocy.

"zoro!", he heard your voice call him from the swing. "come here." he didn't think twice as he sauntered over to you and plopped himself in front of you.

"what's up?", he asked, combing through with his hair. only after he had sat down had he realised how close he actually was. if he bent forward just enough, he could rest his head on your thighs. that image alone turned his face into an even darker pink than it was before.

"nothing," you hummed whilst placing your book aside. "you kept looking here so i called you over."

he wanted to dig himself a hole. the fact that you had noticed him leering at you made him feel so abashed. he thought he was being discreet, stealing glances at you when you weren't looking. but wait... did that mean you had been staring back at him? that would be the only explanation, right? he did not want to get his hopes up but just thinking about that possibility made it nearly impossible for him to hold back the small smile that tugged at his lips.

zoro could sense that the silence that had fallen between you both was about to turn awkward so before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "why are you wearing my t-shirt?". it came out harsher than he had expected and that earned him a second mental face palm.

he saw your cheeks redden as you softly bunched up the end of the t-shirt in your hands. "how cute," he thought. your gaze averted his as you said, "well, it was laundry day for me and i didn't have any comfy clothes to wear so i just picked up a top i found that was clean."

and it was his.

"i hope you don't mind," you murmured. your hands now rested on either side of your legs and you pushed yourself forward, your faces now a few inches apart. the distance made his heart race and he swore if you were any closer you'd be able to hear it hammering. he could smell your dulcet scent wafting in the breeze, intoxicating his senses.

he cleared his throat as he croaked out, "no. it's fine. you can wear my stuff."

you smiled and brought your hand near his body. it hovered for a moment before your finger slipped into the collar of the t-shirt he was wearing. he felt your finger graze over his skin as you slowly ran it along the collar. his body tensed up under your touch, his mind turning hazy at your actions. "even this one?", you asked in a tone so sickeningly sweet, he had to restrain himself from pressing his lips onto yours.

he cleared his throat once more before replying, "yeah, wear whatever you like."

you let out a little giggle, removing your finger from his collar. you still hadn't moved back, your faces seemingly even closer than it had been several moments ago. he could feel your breath on his lips and the heat radiating from your body. if his eyes were not deceiving him, the blush that tinted your face had darkened.

"do you like when i wear your clothes?", you asked shyly. it was rather baffling to him that one second you seemed so brazen with your behaviour and the next you seemed so coy. it was admittedly one of his favourite things about you.

he had to reel himself back in from his thoughts that had begun conjuring up various romantic scenarios of the two of you. he peered at you with a docility that he reserved only for you. your entire face was glowing under the sun and he truly believed there wasn't anyone who could compare to you.

his voice came out quieter than he wanted but thankfully you had heard him, "yeah. because it's you."

had it not been for the proximity, he wouldn't have heard the tiny squeal that you let out. the amore he had for you had grown tenfold in that very moment. you slapped your hand over your mouth and shut your eyes, clearly embarrassed by your own reaction. he didn't know if you had meant to but you placed your forehead atop his, letting out a muffled groan.

zoro's eyes were the size of saucers. he was completely frozen, unaware of what to do. your eyes were still closed and your mouth still covered as you continued to grumble to yourself. it felt like you were saying something but he couldn't think of anything except for the fact that you were so close to him that everything around him had blurred. he did not move a muscle, fearing if he did then the moment would be torn away from him.

it was just you and him right now.

he did not know how he had managed to muster up the guts to do this or what compelled him to do so — he lifted his hand up to your face and gently pulled your hands down. your eyelids flickered open and your mouth was slightly agape. his gaze fell to your rosy lips, dreaming about how soft they looked and how kissable they looked. the things he would do to even get a peck from you. he imagined you'd taste heavenly.

your hands had found its way back to his t-shirt, this time scrunching it up in your grasp. zoro wanted nothing more than to pull you into his embrace. it took a great amount of constraint not to do so though since he didn't want you to feel uncomfortable or get upset with him. instead, his index finger carefully brushed over yours, tracing careless circles. it wasn't a grand gesture but he heard you hum at his actions, which suggested that you weren't averse to his advances. that sent him over the moon.

you had pulled yourself back, your face now in front of him. gingerly, you intertwined your fingers with his — his calloused, rough hands were such a stark contrast to your delicate, tender ones. he held onto them as if they were the most precious jewels the world had to offer, unintentionally drawing hearts all over.

he truly could stay like this forever...

"guys! it's time for lunch!", sanji yelled from the kitchen.

the sudden noise caused you both to jump, nearly making you fall off the swing. you stood up, grabbing your book and raced to the stairs. before you scurried up, you turned back to zoro, face completely flushed as you said nervously, "i'll return your t-shirt tonight!". then you dashed to the kitchen, slamming the door behind you.

zoro buried his head in his hands, letting out a miffed moan. "stupid love cook," he grumbled.

#chuuqqi 𓋜 #one piece #one piece x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro #one piece zoro #zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro roronoa x you #zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fluff

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meazalykov · 2 days ago

Text

under her wing

giulia gwinn x spanish!reader , mentor!alexia putellas x spanish!reader

summary: your mentor is concerned about your relationship with your club teammate

warnings: three year age gap, reader is 22, a suggestive mention if you squint

you never thought you would leave barcelona. it had been your home, your dream, the place where you trained at la masia for many years before debuting on the senior team.

in 2023, when you won the champions league.. you ran into a bit of challenges. something that would not be fixed without a club change.

so… when the opportunity at bayern munich came, you took it.

it was the right step for your career, but that did not make leaving any easier since alexia had been the hardest part of it.

she was more than just a teammate…she was the older sister you never had, the one who guided you when you first arrived at barcelona.

when you told her about the transfer that summer, she had nodded, understanding yet saddened.

“if it’s what you want,” she had said, her voice soft.

“but i’m going to miss you.”

you had adjusted to life at bayern faster than you expected. the girls welcomed you, the club supported you, and before long, you found yourself settling in.

you still talked to alexia, everyday even, you guys kept eachother updated about your lifes in germany and spain.

well, not too much, of course, since she was a rival now. it's just enough for her to know you were okay.

then there was giulia.

she had been your teammate first, someone you clicked with on the pitch almost immediately. you admired her leadership, her composure, the way she carried herself with quiet confidence.

she was 25, a captain-like figure at bayern, the leader of her national team after popp.

she was also the best thing to happen to you in a long time.

you and giulia had only been official for a month. it was new, fresh, but something about it felt so different from your past relationships. healthier and safer like you were with someone who truly saw you.

you had not told alexia yet…there had not been a right time, and honestly, you were not sure how she would take it.

now, in march, you were on national break, back in spain, while giulia remained in germany. it was the first time since getting together that you would be apart for this long, but you both promised to keep in touch.

and you did.

you were always smiling at your phone. always taking pictures of your food before eating. always stepping away to take facetime calls in the bathroom.

that last one had really set alexia off.

she was not going to ask what you were doing in there on the phone with giulia, but she had her suspicions.

now, the night before your match against portugal, she was going to get her answers.

misa and aitana had just left the hotel room when she turned to you.

“hey, y/n, don’t go to sleep yet. can we talk?”

you blinked, confused but nodding.

“of course.”

she sat on the edge of the bed, watching you carefully.

“are you dating someone?”

your heart nearly stopped.

“wh-wha-what? how do you know?”

she let out a small laugh, shaking her head.

“so i was right.”

you sighed, rubbing your face.

“was it that obvious?”

“very,” alexia said.

“you smile at your phone too much. you always take pictures of your food and the facetime calls in the bathroom? come on, y/n! you could at least wait until you got home to munich.”

you groaned.

“fine. yeah, i am dating someone.”

she tilted her head.

“who?”

you hesitated.

“giulia.”

her brows lifted slightly.

“giulia?”

“yeah, giulia gwinn. my teammate at bayern. defender for alemania..”

you nodded, bracing yourself for her reaction.

alexia knew giulia. she had played against her plenty of times, had seen her lead bayern with the same strength she had seen in other great captains like herself.

however, her expression shifted into something more thoughtful, almost concerned.

“hmm.”

“what?” you frowned.

she hesitated for a second before speaking.

“it’s not a bad thing,” she said slowly.

“i just… well… she’s older. not by much, but still… i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you crossed your arms.

“do you think she’s too good for me?”

her eyes widened, shaking her head immediately.

“no! not at all. that’s not what i meant.”

“then what did you mean?”

she sighed.

“i mean that you’re 22. you’re mature for your age, but i want to make sure you’re making smart decisions and that you’re with someone who treats you well, who understands you.”

you relaxed slightly.

“giulia treats me really well, ale. better than anyone ever has.”

ale’s expression softened.

“that’s all i needed to hear.”

you felt the weight of her concern, the way she was looking out for you in the way she always had.

it was not about doubting you or giulia…it was about making sure you were happy. and you were.

before the conversation could settle, she smirked slightly.

“so… tell me more about this relationship.”

you groaned.

“oh god.”

“no, no, i want to know,” she teased.

“how did this happen? who made the first move? if i had to guess, it was her. there is no way your shy ass made any first move!”

you rolled your eyes, but a smile was tugging at your lips.

“oh shut up! i’ll tell you but only because you’re going to keep asking if i don’t tell you.”

and with that, you began to tell alexia the story of how you and giulia became girlfriends.

three months later.. the evening in valencia is warm, the sun just starting to set as you and alexia make your way toward the restaurant.

you’re not nervous about seeing giulia…you never are. she is your club teammate and girlfriend who you see everyday back at home. however, you are a little anxious about how this dinner will go.

alexia has been a mentor to you for years, almost like an older sister, and now she’s here to finally meet the woman you’ve fallen for.

“you look tense,” alexia says, nudging your shoulder.

“should i be worried?”

“no,” you sigh.

“i just want you to like her.”

alexia smirks.

“well, if she makes you happy, i’m already halfway there.”

you step inside the restaurant, immediately spotting giulia at a table near the window.

she stands when she sees you, her expression lighting up as you approach.

when you reach her, she greets you with a soft kiss to your cheek before turning to alexia and extending her hand.

“hallo, it’s nice to finally meet you properly, alexia,” giulia says, her voice warm.

alexia shakes her hand firmly.

“buenos dias, and same here. i’ve heard a lot about you.”

giulia chuckles, glancing at you.

“all good things, i hope?”

“mostly,” alexia teases, sitting down while looking at you beside her.

“i guess i’ll find out for myself tonight.”

the conversation starts light and familiar.. football.

soon enough, alexia shifts gears, watching giulia closely.

“so,” she says, swirling her water.

“what made you fall for her?”

you groan, burying your face in your hands.

“ale, come on!”

giulia laughs softly, completely unbothered. she looks at you for a moment, then back at alexia.

“it was easy,” she says simply.

“she’s loving and y/n is funny in a way that catches you off guard, and she’s so passionate about what she loves. she gives her whole heart to the people she cares about and i was able to learn that when she first came to munich.”

you blink, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice.

alexia raises an eyebrow, clearly impressed.

“not a bad answer.”

“what about you?” giulia asks, tilting her head.

“you’ve seen her grow up. how has she changed?”

alexia hums.

“she’s always been talented, but when she first came to barça, she had this uncertainty about her. now, she knows who she is. she’s stronger, more confident… and she looks happy.”

giulia smiles.

“she makes me happy too.”

there’s a brief pause, something unspoken passing between them before alexia leans back.

“i like you,” she says finally.

“you’re different from the people she’s dated before.”

giulia lifts an eyebrow with a smirk, looking at you while she asks alexia,

“how so?”

alexia glances at you before answering.

“you’re stable. you know what you want. you’re not playing games and have goals.”

giulia squeezes your hand under the table.

“yeah i promise there are no games,” she says softly.

“just her.”

alexia watches the exchange, then nods in approval.

“good. because if you ever hurt her…”

“i won’t,” giulia cuts in firmly.

“i’d never do that.”

there’s another pause, then alexia smirks.

“then i have nothing to worry about.” she glances at you.

“you got a good one.”

relief floods through you, and you smile.

“i know.”

masterlist

guys I'm sorry for being inactive, got busy with school and kind of lost motivation for a bit. I'll be back to posting more (like usual) soon!

#giulia gwinn #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #bayern frauen #vfl wolfsburg women #alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #giulia gwinn x reader #alex popp

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boyfhee · 2 days ago

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MASERATIㅤ───────ㅤ재이

✶ 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒍ㅤ｡⠀bf ! jay, est. rel, slightly suggestive

you're focusing on the road & jay is focusing on you. ( 868 )

╰⁠(⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠╯ㅤ..ㅤ new work after so long omg this is a bit rusty >< hope u enjoy it nonetheless

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ⠀⭑ rbs&feedback ♡

jay can't help but fixate his eyes on you as you drive the car— his car, slick black maserati— well, now yours too. he knows by the subtle smile on your lips that you're aware of his little staring game and, he's knows that you love the fact that he's obsessed.

“again, i could've driven us back,” he insists, leaning back against the seat with his eyes travelling to the ring on your finger. a shy smile makes its way to his lips.

you huff softly, giving him a brief glance before focusing back on the road. “you can trust me with this beauty.”

“i do trust you,” a swift reply, as if the words were waiting on the tip of his tongue to be said. the car is the last thing he has to worry about anyway. “it's just that you look prettier as the passenger princess.”

he notices the way your lips curl into a smile, the way you mumble something in response that he fails to catch because he's too busy admiring you.

unknowingly, he's staring at you again—how the setting sun is casting its rays onto you, the way your hair is tousling in the cool breeze, your neck adorned with a dainty gold necklace that's being reflected off the golden hues off the evening.

“you're staring again,” you chuckle, feeling his gaze on you.

and he simply shrugs, still looking at you shamelessly. “can't help when i've got the prettiest angel right beside me,”

you look peaceful.

your hands guiding the steering and changing gears with practiced ease, the way a quiet laugh rolls off your glossy lips at his words— he's dying for a glance, but you're looking at the road, and then it's as if the heavens heard his prayers when you turn your head towards him, giving him a smile that makes him go haywire. you're doused in warmth and he swears, he's falling for you all over again.

“you're beautiful,” he whispers softly, just loud enough for his words to reach your ears. “and i want to kiss you senseless but you're driving,”

your heart almost skips a beat at his words, cheeks heating up at just the thought of his implications. it almost takes you back to the quick & messy makeout session you had in the parking lot earlier this noon, the way the cramped space of the car made you more hot and bothered, and how his hands traced your curves—

“imagining it already, doll?” he smirks, words laced with a seductively teasing tone. his hands slowly trail up one of your thighs, feeling you shiver under his touch. “i think you should focus on the road,”

you try, you do, but it's just so damn hard when he gives your thigh a light squeeze. you know he's messing with you and it's working. you're a mess, letting out a soft gasp, torn between driving home and pulling over somewhere discreet.

he chuckles at your reactions, enjoying your flushed face and nervous eyes. you shoot him a quick glare but he doesn't let up, trailing his hand to the slit of your dress before you end up slapping his hand away.

“jay—” you speak in annoyance once you stop at the red light. “you're going to get us crashed!”

“that's why i told you to focus on the road, angel,” he shrugs innocently, the action betraying the mischievous glint in his eyes. “or am i distracting you?”

your eyes settle on the traffic light, ignoring his words, waiting for the signal to turn green.

“oh come on angel, are you sulking now?” he huffs at the pout on your lips, one that makes him want to kiss you even more.

and you mumble under your breath. “no,”

he shakes his head, gently grabbing your chin to make you face him before bringing his lips down to yours in a searing kiss. it turns out yet again that you can't stay mad at him, not when he's kissing you like you're the oxygen he needs to breathe.

and just when the lights go green again, he pulls back, much to your disappointment, whispering against your now swollen lips. “promise i'll make it up to you when we're home,”

#—approved.#enhypen x reader #jay x reader #enhypen jay #enhypen fluff #jay fluff #enhypen headcanons #jay headcanons #enhypen drabble #jay drabble #enhypen fics #jay fics #jay scenarios #enhypen scenarios

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evermoreness · 1 day ago

Note

hi lovely!! i had a random idea for a fic where reader is harry’s kindergarten teacher and he lets it slip to you that single dad james thinks she’s pretty? im just imaging a little 5 year old letting that information slip like it’s the most casual thing in the world and meanwhile james is dying of embarrassment hahahha. i just thought it would be cute :)

— This idea is so cute! Thanks for sharing with me, hope you like it! @iloveremmy

secret crush | james potter

pairing: james potter x muggle!reader

summary: dad!james is definitely ready to love again after some time, he just didn't think it would be harry's kindergarten teacher.

obs: feel free to send any requests!

masterlist

The small classroom was filled with laughter, crayons, and the chaotic energy only a group of five-year-olds could create. The walls were covered in colorful drawings, some resembling actual objects and others looking more like abstract masterpieces only a parent could pretend to understand.

At the front of the room stood y/n, the most beloved teacher in the entire kindergarten. She had a natural warmth about her, making every child feel special. She was also quick-witted and funny, always finding a way to make the most mundane things exciting. Her students adored her.

And at the center of it all, sitting on one of the tiny chairs like he was some kind of prince, was Harry Potter.

Harry was an interesting child—smart, playful, and with a sass level that could rival a teenager. He had a mop of messy black hair that never seemed to stay put, big green eyes that sparkled with mischief, and a personality far too charming for a five-year-old.

He had been extra sassy today, insisting he was "way too advanced" for their ABC exercises and that "Uncle Moony reads him much harder books." You had learned by now to just nod along when Harry said bizarre things like that.

You had taken a particular liking to him. Not that you played favorites (at least, not openly), but something about Harry made you want to protect him even more than the other kids. Maybe it was the fact that he was being raised by a single dad, or maybe it was the way he always looked at you with that cheeky little grin whenever he was about to say something absurd.

Right now, that cheeky grin was in full force.

"Miss y/l/n," Harry said, swinging his legs under the table as he colored.

"Yes, love?" you replied, crouching down to his level.

He leaned in as if he was about to share the most confidential secret of his life. "My dad thinks you're pretty."

You blinked.

Oh.

Oh!

You opened your mouth to respond, but Harry, apparently very pleased with himself, continued. "He says you're too young to have this many kids"

Well, you definitely held back the laughter, but as you didn't have an answer to that, you just changed subjects. You leaned over to glance at Harry’s drawing. It was a messy but clearly heartfelt attempt at a stick figure version of himself and his dad, complete with what looked like… a broomstick?

“That’s a great drawing, Harry!” you praised, ruffling his hair. “Is that you and your dad?”

Harry nodded, proudly holding up his masterpiece. “Yeah! That’s me, and that’s Daddy, and he’s flying really fast on his broom because he’s the best at Quidditch!”

Let's say Harry Potter was a really imaginative kid. He would always say some really funny stories about witches and sometimes, he would full on create new words. Like he was just doing now. You found it cute, but little did you know that it was actually all true.

You grinned. “I bet he is.”

Harry’s little legs swung as he beamed. “Yeah! And he says he used to be the best Seeker at Hogwarts! I wanna be like him when I grow up!”

“That’s a great dream,” you said, genuinely warmed by how much Harry admired his father.

James was tall, lean, and had the same messy hair as his son. He was dressed casually, but there was something effortlessly charming about him. And then there were his eyes—warm, hazel, and currently widening in horror as he realized what his son was in the middle of saying.

"And my dad also said—oh, hey, Dad!" Harry greeted, as if he hadn’t just delivered a verbal nuke seconds before.

James, who had clearly heard enough, looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole. "Harry," he started, his voice a little strained, "what exactly have you been telling Miss y/l/n?"

Harry, completely unfazed, gestured at his teacher. "I was just telling her how you think she's pretty."

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. You found it cute how a grown man was becoming all flustered right now.

“I mean—” James rubbed the back of his neck. “I might have said something along the lines of you being… you know… a good teacher.”

Harry frowned. “No, you didn’t.”

James glared at his son. A warning look. A look that screamed drop it, drop it now, child.

Harry, of course, did not drop it.

James let out an awkward, nervous laugh, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Yeah, um, I don't know where he got that from—"

"You said it last night," Harry reminded him. "When you were talking to Uncle Pads and you said—"

"Okay, that's enough, kiddo!" James cut in quickly, picking up Harry like he was a sack of potatoes. His face was an interesting shade of pink now. "Time to go, say goodbye to your teacher!"

Harry, enjoying this far too much, gave you a knowing look before waving. "Bye, Miss! See you tomorrow! Oh, and it's okay! My dad only likes you a little bit."

James groaned. "Oh, for Merlin's sake—"

You, to your credit, simply gave James a bright, amused smile. "It’s fine. Kids say the funniest things."

James, still trying to compose himself, let out a breath. "Yeah. They do."

You tilted your head, studying him for a second. "Though, I have to say, you do have a very smart kid. And very honest."

James gave you a sheepish smile. "Yeah… unfortunately, he gets that from his mother."

There was a flicker of something in his eyes—something sad, something that made you instinctively soften your tone. "She must've been wonderful."

James nodded. "Yeah. She really was."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between them. Then, because James couldn't handle any more embarrassment today, he awkwardly cleared his throat. "Right. Well. We'll be going now. Before Harry decides to share my entire life story."

You grinned. "That’s probably a good idea. Have a good evening, Harry. James."

James hesitated for half a second, then nodded. "You too."

As he walked out, still carrying a smug-looking Harry, you couldn't help but shake your head, laughing quietly to yourself.

James Potter, huh?

This was going to be interesting.

As soon as they were outside, James crouched down and gave Harry a look of pure exasperation. “Alright, Prongslet. Why?”

Harry just grinned up at him, utterly unapologetic. “I like Miss y/n. You like Miss y/n. Uncle Padfoot said you should talk to her more. I was helping.”

James dropped his head in his hands. “You and Sirius are banned from talking to each other ever again.”

The aftermath

James Potter was dying.

Not literally—he had survived multiple Quidditch accidents, a war, and Voldemort himself—but right now, standing outside of Harry’s kindergarten classroom, he was convinced that actual death would be less painful than the secondhand embarrassment he had just experienced.

His five-year-old son, his sweet, traitorous, utterly clueless son, had just casually exposed his very real, very secret crush on Miss y/n.

He was never showing his face in that classroom again.

…Okay, that was a lie.

He’d be back tomorrow.

And the next day.

And the day after that.

Because Harry loved school, and James definitely wasn’t going to pull him out just because he got caught being a pathetic twenty-five-year-old with a schoolboy crush on his kid’s teacher.

But, Merlin’s beard, how was he supposed to look you in the eyes again?

But instead, he found himself standing there like an idiot, because—screw it—he wasn’t actually opposed to talking to you.

At first, James had been mortified, barely able to meet your eyes when he picked up his son. But as the days went by, he found himself lingering a little longer each time. It started small—asking how Harry was doing, if he was behaving (spoiler: he wasn’t), and if he was making friends.

But then your conversations stretched longer.

“So, uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “I actually wanted to talk to you about Harry.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

James nodded, trying to look serious. “Yeah. His, uh… behavior.”

You blinked, looking at Harry, who was currently playing with another student and doing absolutely nothing wrong.

“…His behavior?” you echoed.

James cleared his throat. “Yes. It’s, uh, very concerning.”

You folded your arms, clearly humoring him. “What exactly is concerning about it?”

James hesitated. “Well. You know. The talking thing.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. “The talking thing?”

James sighed, knowing you weren’t buying it. “Yeah. You know. The way he just… talks. No filter. Says things. About me.”

You did laugh then, shaking your head. “James, you do realize that’s completely normal for his age, right?”

James groaned. “I was hoping you’d say there was a cure.”

You grinned. “Afraid not.”

James huffed, but there was a smile playing at his lips now. “Brilliant. Well, at least tell me—how do I make sure he doesn’t casually ruin my life every time he opens his mouth?”

You shrugged. “Sorry, but I think you’re doomed.”

James sighed dramatically. “That’s what I thought.” He glanced at Harry again, who was still happily playing, then looked back at you. “Well, I guess I should be glad he didn’t say anything too bad.”

You smirked. “Oh, no, just that you think I’m really pretty and smile a lot when you talk about me.”

James groaned. “Merlin’s sake, why would you repeat it?”

You laughed. “Because it’s funny.”

James shot her a look. “For you, maybe.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Oh, come on, James. It’s not that bad.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You do realize that I’m going to be forced to relocate and change my name now, right?”

You snorted. “Is that so?”

“Yes,” James deadpanned. “I’ll be John Smith from now on. You’ve never met me before in your life.”

You shook your head, still laughing. “Well, John Smith, if it makes you feel any better…” you hesitated for a second, then shrugged, your voice softer. “I don’t mind what Harry said.”

James froze.

Your eyes were warm, teasing but also… something else.

And suddenly, James realized—maybe this wasn’t as embarrassing as he thought.

Maybe Harry had just given him the best excuse in the world to talk to the woman he’d been secretly crushing on.

And maybe—just maybe—he was okay with that.

For the first time that day, James grinned.

“Well then,” he said. “In that case, I think I can survive the humiliation.”

You chuckled. “Glad to hear it.”

From that day forward, James’s routine of picking Harry up from school became a little different.

At first, he told himself he was just being polite—nothing wrong with staying an extra minute or two to talk to Harry’s teacher, right? Totally normal. Every parent did that.

Except every time, those one or two minutes stretched longer.

And longer.

Until one day, he realized he was actively looking forward to pick-up time—not just to see Harry, but because he’d get to talk to you.

Getting to know each other

James had fully intended to keep his distance after the Incident—as he now called it in his head. He had absolutely not planned to linger when picking up Harry, nor did he intend to talk to you for longer than necessary. But that's not exactly what happened since they had been talking a lot lately.

"Everything good today?" James would ask, standing at the doorway.

"Harry was a little sassy during storytime," you would say, amused. "He insisted he already knew how it ended and started narrating over me."

James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Of course, he did. Did he at least get it right?"

"Surprisingly, yes," you said. "Honestly, he’s way too smart for a five-year-old."

James smirked. "He gets it from me, obviously."

"Oh, obviously," you teased, raising an eyebrow.

And then, the next day…

"Harry told me today that he was going to ‘summon his broom’ to get out of naptime."

James coughed. "Uh. Kids have wild imaginations, don’t they?"

"Mhm," you said, amused. "Though, I have to say, that’s a very specific thing to imagine."

James quickly changed the subject.

And then, the next day after that...

He found himself lingering near your desk, watching Harry shove his tiny arms into his backpack with all the grace of a rampaging hippogriff.

“So,” James started, leaning against the desk, “should I be worried about his academic future, or is struggling with backpack logistics a phase?”

You grinned. “Don’t worry, it’s a phase. I think.”

James sighed dramatically. “Merlin’s sake, that’s a relief. I was beginning to think I’d have to enroll him in some kind of Backpack Etiquette for Beginners course.”

You chuckled. “Well, I do give him stickers when he remembers to pack up neatly.”

James blinked. “That’s brilliant.”

You shrugged, smirking. “Bribery works wonders at this age.”

James laughed. “Noted.”

And just like that, their conversation stretched past the usual parent-teacher exchange.

James found himself not in a rush to leave.

You didn’t seem to mind.

And Harry, for once, didn’t interrupt with any more mortifying revelations.

A win for James.

A week later, James arrived earlier than usual and found you organizing a small shelf of children’s books.

“Expanding their literary horizons?” he asked, stepping closer.

You looked up, smiling. “Trying to. Some of them are still convinced books are just really boring building blocks.”

James smirked. “Ah, yes. The tragic underappreciation of literature.”

You chuckled. “Exactly.” you tilted your head. “Did you like reading when you were a kid?”

James shrugged. “I liked it. But I wasn’t the sit-quietly-and-read type. That was Remus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Remus?”

“My best mate,” James explained. “Loves books. Absolute nightmare when you try to pull him away from one.”

You grinned. “Sounds like the kind of student I’d love to have.”

“Oh, absolutely,” James said. “Meanwhile, I was the kid causing problems in the back of the class.”

You pretended to gasp. “You? Causing trouble? I would never have guessed.”

James smirked. “Shocking, I know.”

You fell into easy conversation after that, sharing stories about school, books, and the different kinds of students you had over the years.

James barely noticed the time passing.

Neither did you.

"Alright, I have to ask," you said one day, arms crossed as you leaned against the doorway. "What’s up with Harry and the ‘Uncles’?"

James blinked. "What do you mean?"

"He talks about Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony constantly," you said. "Are they even real people?" you said, knowing that those names were definitely not usual. Maybe they were imaginary friends.

James tried not to laugh, he couldn't explain it to you in a detailed way, you were a Muggle after all. "Padfoot and Moony are my best mates. They are very real. It's just their nicknames. Padfoot is Sirius, Moony is Remus."

You smiled, trying to understand why they were even called that. "I swear, sometimes Harry sounds like a tiny old man when he quotes them."

James laughed. "That… yeah, that tracks. They’ve been around his whole life."

You smirked. "So, which one gives the worst advice?"

"Oh, definitely Sirius," James said immediately. "He told Harry once that he could read his mind and my poor kid spent the rest of the week scared to think"

You burst out laughing. "That’s terrible!"

"I know!" James said, grinning. "Remus had to be the voice of reason that day, convincing Harry that his uncle couldn't read his mind"

The small talk everyday was becoming a habit.

James would ask about your day, and you would roll your eyes and dramatically recount whatever chaos had ensued in your classroom—kids throwing crayons, glue disasters, the occasional crying over absolutely nothing. You were expressive, funny, and had this energy that James found… comforting.

You, in turn, asked about James—not just about Harry but about him. His work, his hobbies, things he liked. And James found himself telling you, actually enjoying your chats instead of awkwardly stumbling over his words like he thought he would.

But, of course, Harry noticed.

"Dad," Harry groaned one afternoon as James leaned against the classroom doorway, chatting away with you while other parents picked up their kids. "You’re doing it again."

James blinked down at his son. "Doing what, Prongslet?"

Harry huffed dramatically, grabbing his tiny backpack. "Talking and talking and talking."

You burst into laughter. "Oh no, Potter, you’ve been caught."

James narrowed his eyes at his son. "Maybe I like talking to your teacher, kiddo."

Harry groaned even louder, stomping toward the door. "Ugh, come on! We're always the last ones now!"

You laughed, nudging Harry’s nose playfully. "Oh, come on, am I that bad?"

Harry sighed dramatically. "No, but Daddy talks to you too much."

James cleared his throat. "Well, I just—y’know—parent stuff. Making sure you’re doing okay."

Harry squinted at him. "Uh-huh. Sure, Dad."

You smirked. "Guess I must be very interesting, huh?"

James ran a hand through his hair, looking away. "Uh… yeah. I mean, no—I mean—"

You just chuckled and waved at Harry. "See you tomorrow, little tornado."

Harry grumbled something under his breath about adults being annoying and led the way out.

James followed, but not before sneaking one last glance at you.

Getting some advice (from the professionals)

By the time a couple of weeks had passed, James knew he had to do something.

Because this? This standing-in-the-doorway-every-day-for-way-too-long thing? This was not normal behavior. He wasn’t just talking to you about Harry anymore. He liked talking to you, period.

And that? That was terrifying.

You were the first person he’d felt anything for since Lily. It wasn’t the same—Lily had been his great, big, all-consuming love. But you? You were warmth, laughter, easy conversations, and teasing smiles. And that was something.

Which meant he was going to do the scariest thing he’d done since facing off against Voldemort.

He was going to ask you out.

Sirius and Remus, of course, had opinions.

"You just gotta charm her, Prongs," Sirius said confidently, lounging on James' couch. "Lay it on thick—tell her she’s the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, maybe throw in a ‘your eyes shine brighter than the stars’—"

Remus snorted from his chair. "Yes, James. Do that. That definitely won’t make her think you’re a lunatic."

Sirius furrowed his brows at his boyfriend "Hey! I think it worked wonders when i charmed you to like me"

Remus gave him a look "When did exactly you charmed me, pads?"

Sirius was quick to answer "Second year, of course, and it worked!"

Remus was trying not to laugh "Do you actually know that it didn't work, i just liked you back?"

Before Sirius could even snap back, his face surprised, James groaned, dropping his head into his hands. "I don’t need to charm her. I just… need to not make a fool of myself."

Sirius smirked. "Well, that’s impossible. But, hey, shoot your shot."

James was pacing his living room, gripping his hair. "I can’t do it. I can’t do it."

Sirius was looking deeply amused. "You, the James Potter, too scared to ask a woman out? This is history in the making."

Remus, sitting in an armchair, gave a long-suffering sigh. "James, it’s just coffee."

"Just coffee? Moony, I haven’t dated since Lily!" James threw his hands up. "What if she says no? What if she thinks I’m a terrible father for even thinking about dating?"

"Mate," Sirius said, sitting up. "I promise you, the last thing she’s thinking is that you’re a terrible father. She likes you."

James scoffed. "She doesn’t like me."

Sirius smirked. "Oh, yeah? Then why does she always smile at you? And laugh at your terrible dad jokes? And talk to you for an eternity?"

"That’s just—she’s nice!" James insisted.

Remus gave him a knowing look. "James. Just ask her."

James groaned. "Fine. But if I make an idiot of myself, I’m blaming both of you."

He was really going to ask you out.

Taking actions

It was a Friday afternoon. James had spent the entire day hyping himself up. This was it. No more standing around like an idiot. No more pretending he was just talking about Harry.

He was going to ask you out. Casually. Coolly. Like a totally normal, smooth person.

(He was absolutely not smooth.)

"Hey, y/n," James started as he leaned on the doorway of the classroom, trying to look relaxed.

You, who was organizing a chaotic pile of paper, looked up and smiled. "Hey, Potter. You’re right on time for the usual end-of-the-day complaints from your son."

Harry, currently sulking with his backpack, threw up his hands. "They played ring around the rosie today! Do you know how boring that is?!"

You laughed. "What, not exciting enough for you?"

"No!"

James smirked. "That’s tragic, mate."

Harry crossed his arms. "Can we go now or are you gonna talk for twenty years again?"

James cleared his throat. Now or never.

"Actually," he said, looking at you, "I was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime."

You blinked. "What?"

James internally panicked. "Casual coffee. Like—like two people, drinking coffee, talking, existing in the same space—"

You raised an amused eyebrow. "Are you asking me out?"

James wanted to die. "I—I mean—yeah? But, like, you don’t have to—"

You grinned. "James."

He swallowed. "Yeah?"

"I’d love to."

James froze. "Wait. What?"

You smirked. "I said yes, Potter. You good?"

James stared at you, processing, before a slow grin spread across his face. "Oh. Well. That’s… good. That’s great. That’s—"

Harry groaned. "Finally!"

James turned to him. "Oh, what now?!"

Harry threw his hands up. "It took you forever to ask her! I thought you were never gonna do it!"

You laughed. "Seriously?"

James groaned. "Can’t anything be a secret in this family?"

You just smirked. "Apparently not."

James, still grinning, nodded. "Alright then. Coffee it is."

And for the first time in a long time, James felt something that wasn’t just surviving. He felt happy.

#harry potter #fanfic #marauders era #x reader #x yn #marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #wolfstar #sirius and remus #sirius black #remus lupin

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shomatoriashi · 8 hours ago

Text

02/11/25; 01:15pm

{ drabbles / headcanons }

[ how they celebrate valentine’s day with you ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel, caleb

notes: slight crack with rafayel's 😂

you were in the middle of reading your novel, believing that sylus was too busy to celebrate valentine's day with you as you were left to your own devices. despite the prior disappointment you felt at the thought of being unable to spend such a lovely holiday with him, in the end, you chose to be a good lover and simply spoil yourself for the day instead. you never brought it up or even asked, hence why you were currently surrounded by your favorite snacks, simply relaxing in bed while flipping though the pages of your book.

the start of your night was utterly normal, peaceful even when you found yourself surrounded by darkness just seconds later.

"what the hell?" you sit up in bed, dropping your novel on the ground as you blindly searched for the lamp settled on the nightstand. however, you were unable to move, feeling a pair of hands wrapping around your form coupled along with a series of laughters.

"luke, kieran, unhand me right now!" you bark at the twins, feeling them carry you away from your bed with ease.

"no can do, miss queen! boss man gave us strict orders to bring you to him!"

the twins continue carry you away, seemingly able to navigate through sylus's mansion even without the need for any lights. you try to wiggle out of their hold, yet end up letting out a grunt when you felt your ass landing against a plush cushion. the twins had dropped you off somewhere, making you glare into the darkness, ready to chew out the troublesome pair-

only to have your eyes widen with shock when the lights came back on. your eyes stung for a brief moment before allowing you to finally see the surprise sylus had planned for you. you were settled on the dining table, and seated across from you was sylus himself, lifting up a glass full of red wine in a toast. "hello sweetie, how nice of you to finally join me."

your mouth opens, yet the words become lost the moment you were able to actually look at the table. as far as your eyes can see, you saw various dishes across the table, finally taking in the scents of your favorite foods and various heart shaped confectionaries for dessert. tears dot your vision, making you wipe them away with the back of your hand, "i thought you had forgotten. i-"

hearing your sniffles and seeing your tears causes sylus to put down his wine glass, standing back to his full height as he took quick strides towards you. taking you within his embrace, he lets out gentle coos of your name, setting you on his lap while holding you against him.

"as if i would ever forget to celebrate our love, little dove."

filled to the brim with utter adoration for him, you cling to the front of his suit, allowing sylus to lean down and capture your lips in a sweet kiss, reminding you of just how pure and deep his love ran for you.

when zayne asked what you would like to do for valentine's day, your mind immediately went to the art museum you had wanted to visit since its opening a few months ago.

never one to deny you of any of your wants and needs, zayne takes you to the museum while walking around with you. he basks in the joy and awe with each painting and sculpture you pass by. and despite how you were the one who had purchased the box of macarons to share-

zayne was the one left holding it, since you were so engrossed at being at this museum.

yet the turning point came when you stood in front of an oil painting that seems to take up the whole section of the museum. your eyes were glued to the watercolors that painted the scenery of the deep ocean along with what appeared to be mermaids swimming in and out of an underwater city.

"wow, this is amazing. i heard rafayel was a genius in his own right, but this- his art, so breathtaking, almost like a fairytale..."

the way your eyes shimmer with admiration for the artist causes a surge of something dark and almost possessive to course through zayne's veins. the sudden sensation makes him grip at the box of macarons in a tighter manner, nearly crushing the cookies as a frown paints his expression. you were still ogling the painting when zayne decides to place the box of macarons on a nearby bench, coming closer to you as he wraps his arms around your front.

"what- zayne?"

he buries his face within your hair, "i didn't think i'd be able to feel jealous over a painting."

your eyes go wide, ready to ask what he meant when your lover suddenly leans down to press a kiss against your lips, swallowing the rest of your words. you let out a soft moan in response, shyly kissing him back while feeling zayne delving his fingers into your hair.

with you being so focused on his kiss, you were unaware of zayne's smile and his feelings of victory at being able to win your attention back from that man's painting.

you shared the love of stargazing with xavier, so when he invites you out on a picnic beneath the stars for your valentine's day date-

you said yes to his offer immediately.

you had prepared for this picnic throughout the day, making several sandwiches along with a charcuterie board to share along with some sparkling wine. xavier offers to carry the heavy basket filled with food as you held on to the blanket.

your ballet flats meets with the plushness of the emerald green grass, eyes already scanning the skies as you were basking in the sight of the twinkling stars settled millions of miles above you. xavier looks back at you, seeing the way you stopped as a kind smile graces his features.

taking a hold of your arm, xavier leads you towards the middle of the field, helping you spread out the blanket fully before settling on top of it with you. your boyfriend spreads out your meal, setting up the charcuterie board while offering you a sandwich as well.

taking tentative bites of your food, you rest your head against xavier's shoulder, simply basking in the moment with him. your eyes were glued to the galaxy above you, listening to xavier's voice as he pointed out the constellations and traced at the stars with his fingertips.

feeling warm and oh so happy with him, you look away from the skies and gently call out his name.

"yes?" you meet his gaze, seeing the love he had for you shining in them when you lean closer to the philos prince. "i love you, thank you for this."

instead of answering you with words, xavier leans forward to capture your lips in a sweet kiss, slotting his lips against yours while silently conveying i love you, too.

for valentine's day, rafayel treats you to a nice lunch before taking you to the aquarium. while walking around the gorgeous area, you felt your mouth watering at the sight of the ice cream shop settled near the entrance. after purchasing your tickets, rafayel slides his wallet back into his pant pockets when he meets your puppy dog expression.

he sighs, "okay princess, spill, what is it that you want?"

"an ice cream cone sounds really nice right now." you tell your boyfriend with a pout, pointing at the ice cream stand.

he feigns a sigh, yet walks with you to the stand anyways, allowing you to purchase your favorite flavor before ruffling your hair. you were giggling now, taking eager licks of your ice cream while offering some to your lover.

rafayel pouts, but leans down to take a huge bite out of the soft serve ice cream, making you laugh, "oh my god, that was a bite from a shovel!"

"no it wasn't!" he retorts while playfully pulling on your cheek, only to stiffen just moments later. he lets go of your face, and you give your boyfriend a confused expression while rubbing at your cheek, "huh? rafe, what is it?"

his frown seems to deepen, lips forming a pout as he marched deeper into the aquarium. your eyes go wide, following him all while calling out his name. your search for him leads you to an area where the coral reefs were on display-

and your boyfriend was actively glaring at this angelfish that had startling sapphire blue scales. you continue to take tentative licks of your ice cream, wanting to observe what would happen next-

only to see the angelfish's mouth open and close several times with bubbles forming within the waters.

"WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?!" rafayel's voice echoes throughout the aquarium as his hands form into fists, pounding into the glass as the angelfish continued blowing bubbles at him.

"r-rafeyel, calm down, what happened?" you try your best to diffuse the situation, yet his pout deepens while pointing an accusing finger at the angelfish, "h-he just called me a limp noodle and said that i wasn't good enough for you!"

before rafayel could demand that one of the workers allow him inside of the waters, you pull your overly dramatic boyfriend away from the scene, feeling a bead of sweat run down your cheek as you thought of ways to help with calming the lemurian down.

"oh my god, i'm in heaven right now!" you tell your boyfriend of two years while cutting into the fluffy strawberry shortcake, placing the delicious morsel within your mouth all while letting out a moan of pleasure.

caleb simply chuckles at your words, tending to his own cup of coffee. he never once removes his gaze away from you, smiling like a lovesick fool, "whatever makes you happy, baby."

resting his cheek against the palm of his hand, the farspace colonel was glad he was able to take some time off for this special day. knowing that you were a true romantic at heart, there was no way in hell he would ever miss out on celebrating valentine's day with you.

so, he buys you all of your favorite treats, allowing the various plates filled with a variety of different cakes and chocolates to surround you. he admires the look of happiness on your face, basking in the way you ate each pastry in such a meticulous manner, as if wishing to savor every bit of it.

in the midst of caleb admiring you, he notices the whipped cream settled on top of your lips, feeling a devilish grin forming against his features. he says your name, breaking your attention away from your cake. "hm?" you face him just then, allowing caleb to lean forward to capture your lips in a chaste kiss as his tongue swipes away at the cream. caleb relishes in the way you were trembling before sitting back down in his seat, picking up his cup of coffee while taking a casual sip.

noticing the heat settled on your cheeks and the way your expression turned sheepish, he had to bite back the urge to chuckle at you while ruffling at your hair.

i could get used to this soft happiness. caleb thinks to himself, focusing his attention once more on your achingly cute features and how you were too shy to meet his gaze.

end notes: i feel like all of us wanted infold to drop a fluffy banner, but was a little disappointed / shocked when it didn't happen and got something feral instead 😭🙌🏻 so have this fluffy drabble instead to fill your needs for a fluffy valentine's day with our lads boys 🥰

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #caleb x reader #sylus fluff #zayne fluff #xavier fluff #rafayel fluff #caleb fluff #sylus x you #zayne x you #xavier x you #rafayel x you #caleb x you #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lnds x reader #l&ds x reader

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crystallinestars · 2 days ago

Text

NSFW Alphabet - Mydeimos

Mydei won the poll so here is the promised alphabet. I hope I got him decently in-character. This was written prior to 3.1 so some things may not be accurate. If the upcoming story quest reveals information that goes against what I have written or gives me a different perspective on Mydei's character, I will go back and change things. I really hope I won't have to, though ;_;

Mydei x Fem!Reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

After the initial passion of sex passes, the blanket of lust lifts from his mind and Mydei is left with intense feelings of protectiveness and tenderness towards you. He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around you, bury his nose in your hair or the crook of your neck and never let go. During moments like these, Mydei’s softer side comes out and you might hear him murmur praise about how well you did, how good you felt, or feel him leave a soft kiss on your lips or temple. He also enjoys draping you across his chest and idly rubbing his hand along your back as you both bask in the sweet afterglow of your lovemaking. If you melt under his touch, his chest swells with pride at seeing you so sated and relaxed because of him.

Though he tries to keep his strength in check, Mydei can sometimes get absorbed in the moment and fuck you fast and rough which is why he tries to soothe and take care of you afterwards the best he knows how. Aside from the soothing back rubs, he also gets you some pomegranate juice as refreshment and asks if you’re feeling okay. A twinge of guilt will go through him if you complain about feeling sore or being too weak to walk, and to atone for being so rough on you, Mydei will volunteer to fetch you anything you might need and carry you wherever you need to go until you’re strong enough to walk on your own. He may come off as a brute, but he does genuinely care about your wellbeing.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Mydei hates his immortal body, but he does take pride in his physique which he honed over countless years of training and fierce battles. He is unashamed about his appearance and has no qualms about walking around practically shirtless. He doesn’t do this to for some conceited desire to be admired, though he would be a liar if he said he didn’t like your appreciative stares. Mydei’s ego soars whenever he catches you checking him out, and he smirks and teases you about it with something like “Like what you see?” Or “You’ll burn holes into my body if you stare that much.”

On you, Mydei is fond of many parts of your body, but he likes your breasts, hips, lower belly, butt, and thighs in particular. Basically, the parts of you that are soft and easy to grab. The sight of your ass jiggling or breasts bouncing every time he thrusts into you greatly appeals to him, but even outside of sex, his hands often gravitate towards your thighs or stomach just because he likes how they feel. His body is all hard planes and firm muscle, but yours is soft and pliant. He enjoys that contrast.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Mydei likes seeing his cum decorate your skin, and if you let him, he’ll paint your chest, lower belly, or ass in his seed. He’s also a fan of cumming inside because the sight of his cum dripping out of your pussy sends a surge of primal satisfaction through him.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Lovemaking with Mydei can get passionate and a little rough sometimes, resulting in him sporting scratch marks along his shoulders and back courtesy of your nails. The prince is so used to tolerating pain and his injuries healing quickly, that he usually doesn’t even notice the scratches. He made the mistake of walking out in public in his usual shirtless manner with his back all scratched up, only to get a few knowing looks from his soldiers and a few concerned questions about whether he got into a scuffle with a manticore.

Mydei just brushed the questions off and let his men think whatever they liked about the origin of these marks, though internally he wanted to disappear on the spot. He would not tell the truth, because as far as Mydei was concerned, it was none of their business. His private life was not something his men needed to know about.

After this incident, Mydei made sure to wait a while for the scratches to heal before heading out to avoid encountering such awkward questions again. You didn’t get off scott-free for this, however, and Mydei got his little revenge by marking up your neck in hickeys and not acting the least bit remorseful when you scolded him for it.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Mydei has had one sexual encounter with a one-night stand in the past to indulge his curiosity about sex, but he didn’t explore beyond that. Something about using each other’s bodies to get off while not really caring about one another left a sour taste in his mouth, so he preferred to wait until he got a long-term partner. Plus, his statuses as the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos and the face of the Kremnoan detachment meant he couldn’t afford having a reputation as a playboy by sleeping around. Any negative image he accrued would cascade down onto his people and potentially subject them to more harassment than they already faced in Okhema.

Mydei sees no shame in being sexually inexperienced and will outright tell you he’s not the most knowledgeable about sex. Similarly, he won’t judge you for your amount of experience, be it larger or smaller than his. It’s not a big deal to him because he knows it can be easily changed with some time and the right partner.

Despite his inexperience, Mydei approaches sex with confidence. He may not know everything, but he is willing to learn and adapt to your preferences and hopes you return the favor in kind. Tell him what you like and how you like it, and he’ll adjust his technique accordingly. If you’re also unsure about what you like, then Mydei will experiment to see what gets the best reactions out of you. Do you like a rougher or gentler touch? Do you like dirty talk? What if he teases your nipples just so? Don’t be shy to communicate what feels good to you or not, he wants to know how he can best please you. When it’s your turn to explore his body, Mydei will similarly give you feedback about what feels good to him or how you could adjust your technique to make it better. He may be taciturn, but he understands the importance of communication during such moments.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mydei has a lot of positions he likes. One of his absolute favorites is doggystyle because it gives him a nice view of your back and a tighter squeeze around his cock. It’s not rare for Mydei to become mesmerized by the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap to yours, and sometimes he can’t resist the urge to lightly spank your butt. Doggystyle is also nice because he can cover your body with his and mark your shoulders/neck, giving him the primal sense you’re entirely his.

He also enjoys cowgirl and reverse cowgirl. Letting you set the pace and take pleasure from his body gets Mydei going, not to mention he has a delicious view of your figure and easy access to all your curves. His hands grip your hips to help you bounce on his cock or trace the curve of your ribs to your breasts, feeling the softness of your flesh. The sight of you riding him like that can sometimes be too arousing for Mydei to handle and he struggles to hold back from thrusting upwards into you and taking over the pace. He’s a fan of reverse cowgirl for similar reasons as above, with the added bonus of watching your ass bounce on his lap. He frequently squeezes your butt when you ride him in reverse.

Additionally, Mydei enjoys sex against the wall. It can be with you facing the wall with your arms braced against it while he pounds into you from behind, or with your back against the wall and a leg hitched around his hip. He is also strong enough to support your entire weight with his arms, so there are times where fucks you while standing by holding you up by your thighs with your arms and legs wrapped around him.

If doing missionary, Mydei prefers hiking your legs up onto his shoulders or lifting your hips up for a deeper penetration and likes watching your expression melt in bliss when he hits just the right spot inside you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Mydei is a straightforward and serious person, and that aspect of him is also present in the bedroom. He approaches sex with seriousness and honesty, so he means everything he says. If he says he’ll fuck you until you’re completely spent, believe him because that’s exactly what he’ll do to you. In the same vein, Mydei will take whatever you say seriously unless it’s an obvious joke, though if you have the energy to joke around then it means he’s not fucking you good enough.

Though he’s not one to act silly, Mydei isn’t without a sense of humor. It’s not rare for him to send sarcastic jabs or teasing quips to poke fun at you in a lighthearted manner all the while smirking like a handsome bastard.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He doesn’t fuss over his pubic hair and mostly leaves it alone but does occasionally trim it if he thinks it’s grown too long. His bush has the same ombre as the hair on his head—blond at the roots and reddish at the tips. Also has a bit of a happy trail but can shave it off if you ask.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Mydei isn’t the type to shower you with sweet nothings during intercourse, but he does show his love through touch. His caresses can range from tender to passionate depending on the mood. If the mood is sweet and loving, Mydei will touch you with a rare gentleness. Things like cradling your cheek in his palm, holding you close against his body, and long kisses as well as eye contact are some of the ways he expresses his feelings for you. His eyes convey more than any words he says because there is no mistaking the love and affection in his golden depths.

If the mood is passionate and carnal, Mydei’s touches are rougher. They’re imbued with his desire to possess and protect you, as well as his lust for you. These manifest in the form of hot kisses along your neck, nibbling of his teeth against your skin, the firm grasp of hands at your hips, and the hard press of his chest against your back. Mydei also has a tendency to growl “Mine” because he wants to make you his.

The prince rarely says “I love you” even during sex, but whenever you say it to him, his heart melts. He won’t show it outright, but those words hit him deep and dredge up soft and warm feelings that make him want to embrace you and never let go. So, he settles for slowing his thrusts and holding you close while pressing his mouth to yours to keep you quiet lest your words dredge up something else within him. After the blissful high of orgasm, he nuzzles into your neck and murmurs a quiet “I love you too” back.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As the last prince of Kremnos and leader of the detachment army, Mydei carries heavy burdens on his shoulders. While he can unwind with a friendly spar or some delicious food, sometimes sexual gratification is just what his mind needs to momentarily forget his duties.

Mydei masturbates to relax and quiet his mind, so he prefers to do it either in the bath or before bed. He only masturbates in the privacy of his bedchambers where he won’t be disturbed easily, and even then, he keeps his voice down. The most one would hear from his jack off sessions are quiet grunts and breathless pants.

He typically doesn’t think about anything specific when masturbating, but after he developed feelings for you, his thoughts would sometimes drift to you and imagine what it would feel like if it was your hand wrapped around his length instead, how your body would feel under his hands, or how you would moan and writhe under him while coupling. Thoughts of you excite him and get him off quicker than usual, but he always felt ashamed for thinking of you in such an inappropriate manner. The following day he would struggle to look you in the eye because of the guilt he felt, though once you became a couple, such feelings of guilt vanished.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Mydei leans more dominant and prefers to be in charge in the bedroom. He’s open to you taking the lead and asking him to do specific things like eating you out or letting you explore his body, but he will not give up control entirely. If you lack the assertiveness to lead properly or test his patience too much, he will take back control.

One of Mydei’s biggest kinks is marking. He loves to nip and suck at your skin to leave dark hickeys on your neck, chest, and inner thighs. When he gets particularly riled up, he also bites at your shoulder. It’s never hard enough to draw blood, but it does leave a mark in the shape of his teeth and may bruise. He admires his marks after the fact, feeling a sense of satisfaction that you have physical proof of being his, but will apologize if you scold him for it. He’ll buy you a garment that covers your neck and shoulders if it becomes a problem.

Mydei also likes it when you mark him in return. Feeling your hands and mouth on his skin claiming him as yours makes him feel desired, which is a huge turn-on. The best places to mark are his neck and back because they can get a groan of pleasure out of him when you find those sensitive spots to bite down on. Due to the fast regenerative abilities of his body, your marks don’t last long on his skin, though Mydei won’t be opposed if you want to renew them. Just be prepared for him to return the favor.

He's also into light spanking. It’s nothing hardcore like a full-on spanking session with crops and paddles but rather an occasional smack on your ass with his palm while he takes you from behind. He just enjoys seeing the way your butt jiggles and can’t resist the urge to spank it. If you’re not into it, Mydei will stop without question.

If you’re not against it, Mydei is open to trying anal sex for something novel. He will need some guidance and education on how to do it safely but he’s willing to take things slow and prep you properly to avoid injury.

The prince loves it when you wrap your arms and legs around him. Grip the backs of his thighs, lock your legs behind his back, gab his butt, or loop your arms around his neck and tug him towards you. It makes him feel like you desire him and are welcoming him into your body which he finds hot.

If you’re into it, Mydei will pin you down against the bed or wall. Things such as pinning your wrists above your head or pressing you down into the mattress with his weight are his favorite ways to immobilize you if you’ve been teasing him too much. He won’t do this if you’re uncomfortable with it, though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

For the most part, Mydei prefers to have sex in the privacy of your home. Any room and surface is fine, though he does like the bed a little more because it makes for a comfortable place to rest and bask in the afterglow afterwards.

Though not his preferred choice, Mydei can also fuck you in more risky places. He’s brush off your advances and tell you to wait until you get home to get frisky, but his patience is not infinite. If you tease and provoke him enough, his patience will snap and he’ll drag you over to a secluded corner with a growl that if you want to be fucked so bad then fine, you’ll get what you want but you had best keep your voice down if you don’t want to be caught. If an unfortunate soul happens to see you getting steamy, the deadly glare Mydei gives them will be a silent threat for them to keep quiet and pretend they never saw anything or else.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Mydei is a simple man that prefers a straightforward approach. He’s not good at playing elaborate mind games and chasing after you in a game of cat-and-mouse as it will leave him frustrated. Just tell him you want him. Press your boobs or rub your ass against him, run your hands along his body in a suggestive manner, grinding your hips against him, whisper dirty things in his ear—whatever method you employ, just make your desire for him clear. As long as your interest is genuine and you make him feel wanted, Mydei will take the bait.

Heated make-out sessions also work to arouse him. When the kiss turns hot and heavy, it ignites his lust and makes him want to feel more of you. If you trail your lips down his throat and bite at the pulse point or lightly scratch down his back, it is game over for him. You’ll be hoisted into his arms and carried to the bed.

Other things you can try is dressing up. Wearing sexy and flattering lingerie or a cute and sexy cat outfit complete with a cat ear headband can work to turn Mydei on. Wearing just a towel or nothing at all also works.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

As mentioned previously, Mydei doesn’t like giving up complete control. He lets you experiment with kinks and take the lead if you express an interest in doing so but don’t think you can toy with him for your own amusement. The crown prince complies with your whims out of respect and a desire to indulge you but if you push his buttons too much that compliance will fly out the window.

Mydei hates being edged and teased. A little bit is fine, but he lacks the patience to put up with it for long periods of time. It quickly goes from being arousing to being annoying. He also dislikes being made to beg. Mydei is far too prideful to debase himself like that and will grow irritated if you pressure him to beg you to let him cum or anything similar. In both scenarios, he’s far more likely to break out of any restraints you have on him and turn the tables on you. You’ll be the one begging him, darling.

The crown prince is also not into roleplay. He would find it difficult to get into a role since he’s not the best actor and just finds the whole ordeal too cumbersome and cringey. He’d much rather skip the acting and get straight to the good part where he gets to have his hands on you and his face between your legs.

Additionally, Mydei won’t go out of his way to hurt you. He can wrap a hand around your throat but won’t squeeze in fear of actually choking you, neither will he harshly pull at your hair or hit you. He can manhandle you to display his strength but only if he knows you’re into it. Otherwise, he will never force you into anything against your will.

Finally, Mydei hates the idea of sharing you with someone else. Watching you touch another person so intimately and seeing you being pleasured by someone that isn’t him sparks feelings of intense jealously and resentment in him. He would see red and feel sick to his stomach, so threesomes are a huge turnoff for him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Mydei has a slight preference for receiving but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t like giving. Quite the opposite, in fact. Burying his face between your legs and watching you come undone from just his mouth? It turns him on and inflates his ego. Mydei loves watching you moan and writhe while he eats you out, and he easily holds your hips still so you can’t get away while he firmly sucks on your clit. He also feels encouraged by you tugging at his hair when something he does feels good for you.

Watching and hearing you unravel under his tongue is one of the hottest things for Mydei, and he’ll crawl up your limp and sated body with his face smeared in your slick and a feral, lustful glint in his eye because eating you out made him painfully hard.

When it comes to receiving, Mydei tries to be careful. He knows he’s big so he’s not expecting you to deepthroat him or anything (though it would drive him wild if you managed to) and does his best to hold still while you take him in your mouth. He’s more vocal when you suck him off, letting out low moans that gradually grow louder the closer you bring him to orgasm. When he gets closer to his peak, he starts to shallowly thrust into your mouth but tries to be careful to not thrust too deep and accidentally hurt you.

He tends to keep a hand on your head while you go down on him. Not pushing or pulling but just resting it there. If your hair is long enough, he’ll gather it up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face so it wouldn’t get in your way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Mydei’s pace can vary from fast to slow depending on what you’re both in the mood for, but he consistently goes deep. If you’re in the mood for something passionate and carnal, Mydei’s happy to let loose and take you fast and rough until you’re crying out in pleasure and your eyes are rolling back while raking your nails down his shoulders. If you want something less rough but still passionate, he can go slow and deep and gradually build up to a more moderate pace. The latter is usually his go-to pace though he tends to quicken his thrusts when he’s near orgasm.

Though slow and sensual is not his typical style, when you evoke soft and warm feelings in Mydei’s chest (usually by saying you love him or being the one to make love to him) he gentles his approach. It’s not quite sensual, but it is loving coming from him. His sharp thrusts slow down to languid roll of his hips and he gives you more kisses and gentler nips.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t mind quickies and sometimes resorts to them when you’re both pent up and need to destress but don’t have the time to take things slow. During quickies, Mydei’s pace is fast but not rough since the aim is to get both of you to climax quickly and then go about your day. They’re regular but not frequent, probably once a week or so.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

It will take some coaxing on your part, but Mydei can be convinced to experiment with new things if the idea intrigues him or it makes you happy. However, if it’s anything from the No section then he will stubbornly shut down the suggestion. You also can’t suddenly spring something hardcore on him like BDSM. Mydei needs to be eased into new things. You can start out with something like a session experimenting with restraints, and another time playing around with blindfolds or toys, etc… Otherwise, he may experiment with a few things himself like sex positions and restraining you with his hands.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man has stamina for days. He’ll outlast you any day of the week, it’s not even a competition. Mydei’s endurance comes not only from his physical fitness, but also from how used to pain and suffering he is. His immortal body allows him to easily ignore signs of fatigue or discomfort and push him past his limits. That said, his body does have a limit to how many times he can cum, so he can last up until he shoots blanks. It’s unlikely you will ever get to that point with him, though.

In general, Mydei prefers going for 2-3 rounds so you’re both left thoroughly satisfied, but if you ever want to go for more then he’ll indulge you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

While Mydei isn’t against sex toys, he’s not eager to use them. He strongly believes that direct physical touch feels better than some cold plastic or silicone toy. He’d much rather please you directly with his body, be it his hands, mouth, or penis because it’s more gratifying to watch you react to his touch than to some tool. Mydei prefers you to please him using your hands or mouth, as well. You could try the sex toys on him, but he will quickly lose interest and toss them away in favor of feeling your skin against his.

Mydei is okay with you using toys on yourself when he’s not available to satisfy your needs, but if he is, he will be hurt if you don’t come to him and satisfy yourself with a toy instead. It will make him think you don’t find him satisfactory in bed.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Mydei is a straightforward person, so playing unfair is not his style. At most he can let fly a teasing comment about how badly you want him but otherwise he doesn’t tease or edge you. He doesn’t have the patience for it because seeing you get worked up riles him up too and makes him want nothing else except to sink into your cunt.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

The prince is good at keeping his voice down. He usually lets out grunts and groans while making love to you, and an occasional low moan if you do something that makes him feel good. Mydei would much rather hear your moans over his own because they let him know he’s making you feel good which is an ego boost for him. If you try to stifle your sounds, Mydei tells you to let your voice out so he can hear how good he’s making you feel and does his best to get you to moan louder, provided you’re somewhere private.

He's also a huge sucker for hearing you moan his name or begging him. It drives him wild and makes him want to give you even more pleasure.

Mydei indulges in a bit of dirty talk. It’s not derogatory but rather praising, saying things like “Look at how soaked your panties are. You must be so desperate to feel my dick inside you.” or “You’re so wet and tight, your pussy feels so good around me.”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Mydei can get competitive in the bedroom. Once he grows familiar with sex and what you like, he challenges himself to get you to climax more times compared to previous sessions. If you came twice last time, he’ll set a goal to make you orgasm three or more times the next session.

If you’re the type to challenge him in the bedroom, Mydei will play along. You want to bet you’ll make him cum first? Sure, why not test it out in the 69 position so he can eat you out while you suck him off and see who will make the other finish first?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

(A reminder than girth is circumference and not diameter)

Length is 15 cm (5.9 inches) and girth is 11 cm (4.3 inches). Has a few veins on the underside and a dark red tip.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mydei has a healthy sexual appetite and craves sex about 3-5 times a week. If you sex drive is higher than his then he could go more often.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Mydeimos doesn’t fall asleep quickly afterwards unless he’s pushed himself past his limit (but that’s extremely rare). You’re usually the one to fall asleep first since intercourse with him leaves you weak and tired, so Mydei spends that free time making sure you’re properly tucked in and comfortable. He scoops your limp form into his arms in a protective embrace and tucks your head under his chin, holding you close while you succumb to sleep.

During nighttime, Mydei’s thoughts are usually occupied by his duties or his past, but the relaxation that comes after sex helps to push those troublesome thoughts aside and allows him fall asleep easier than usual. It also takes him a bit of time to get used to sleeping beside you, but he finds it nice to share a bed with someone he loves and hold them in his arms. He likes mornings in which he wakes up to see your naked sleeping figure beside him. Your hair is mussed and there are marks from his teeth on your skin, but god does the sight of you under the soft rays of Okhema’s sun warm his scarred heart.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #mydei x reader #mydeimos x reader #mydei x fem!reader #mydei x reader smut

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st4rgiirll · 2 days ago

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secret admirer

s2!rafe cameron x perv!stalker!pogue!reader

creds to: roseraris for dividers!

warnings: underwear stealing, piv, unprotected sex, watching rafe jerk off (mention), fingering, face slapping, pussy slapping (hand and dick), teasing, blowjob, cum eating.

𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗡𝗦 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗕𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗞𝗘𝗗 𝗔𝗖𝗖𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗟𝗬! 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗣𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗜𝗕𝗟𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗢𝗪𝗡 𝗠𝗘𝗗𝗜𝗔 𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗣𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡

you sat in a tree, hidden by the leaves and branches, peering into rafe's bedroom. it was like clockwork; every night at 9:00 pm, rafe would undress for his shower after working out, seemingly oblivious to the world around him.

your heart raced as you watched rafe peel off his shirt, revealing a taut set of abs that practically glistened in the low light. they were so close they could almost taste the salt on his skin.

this had become an addiction for you.

you couldn't help yourself; ever since you'd laid eyes on rafe cameron knew you had to have him. you watched him day after day, heat pooling in your panties as you did, sometimes when he was gone you’d steal a pair of his boxers. for safe keeping.

sometimes, on the off chance, you’d end up staying long enough to watch as he jerked off. you couldnt hear him through the window, but god you wished you could. his faces were just picturesque, it made your clit throb.

when he headed into the bathroom, thats when you striked. you opened his window, crawling in and immediately heading to his dirty laundry. your found them, his boxers. you took them from his pile and undone your backpack.

the bathroom door swung open, and you were mortified. half his boxers already in your bag, you looked up at him.

his eyes caught yours, and you were now bright red

“what the fuck?” rafe questioned, a bit creeped out but he couldnt help the way his shorts tightened.

“i- uh- i can explain-!” you stammer.

“what? that you were being a little perv? stealing my fucking underwear?” he huffs.

you looked down and your eyes didnt leave the floor when you stood up from your kneeling position, you couldnt bare to face him.

“so, why the fuck are you stealing my underwear, pogue? like a little perv.”

“w-well… i-i just- uhm..” you were so embarrassed.

“i-i-i,” he pouted mockingly. “god, you’re pathetic.”

you stayed silent, what were you supposed to say? ‘oh yeah i find you hot and want to get bent over and fucked brutally by you but i know i cant have you’ absolutely not.

“what? you cant find a guy to fuck you good so you gotta resort to stealin’ my boxers now?” he rolled his eyes at your lack of response.

“what about your little pogue boyfriends? huh? jj, john b? they not like you anymore? hm, probably not. too much of a whore for them, right?”

”i-im sorry, i-im so s-sorry rafe..” you apologize profusely, your eyes brimming with tears. “p-please, it was a mistake! i-i’ll return them all, i promise, just dont tell anyone!”

“i should,” he hums. “i really should. but i wont.”

“really?” you ask, hope blooming in your chest.

“yeah, i guess… for a price, of course.” he smirks, the smirk that tells you he’s up to no good.

there it was, the kicker. you knew you’d regret this but you couldnt have anyone know about this, especially the other pogues.

and that’s how you found yourself on his bed, his fingers plunging in and out of your cunt. you were a moaning mess, the force behind his fingers was brutal, bordering painful.

“f-fuck rafe!” you moan.

“yeah? you like that? ‘course you do, dirty whore.” he degrades, pulling his fingers from your dripping cunt.

he sucks on his fingers, humming at the sweet taste before grabbing ahold of your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed. he raises his hand and leaves a sharp slap on your pussy, making you squeak from pleasure, pain, and surprise.

“that’s what you get for being a dirty whore, for stealin’ my underwear.” he grunts, landing another smack to your pussy.

you writhe under the force, legs instinctively closing. his hands forcefully push your legs back open.

“don’t make me tie these pretty legs open.” he growls, his tone aggressive. “what do you do with my boxers, hm? wear ‘em? sniff ‘em? wouldnt put it past you.”

another smack.

“i asked you a fucking question, pogue.” he spat.

“i-i wear them…” you whine. “t-to bed, sometimes i’ll wear them… while i rub my pussy…”

“oh, baby…” he groans, his head lolling back as if he got pleasure from your words.

“get up.” he snaps, pulling you up.

“on your knees.” he sits on his bed, you kneel between his legs.

you open your mouth wide, eager for his cock. you’d dreamed about this so much, it made you so wet.

“you really want this huh?” he chuckles, tapping his cock on your tongue.

you wrap your lips around his length, practically salivating at the feel and weight. you hum, taking him deep in your throat before gagging and pulling off.

he growls, grabbing your hair and pistoning his hips forward. his tip bullys the back of your throat, making you gag each time it hit. you were gagging, but you loved it, being used by him. saliva seeped from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto your tits.

“oh f-fuuuck… just like that baby, oh fuck… im cumming…” he moans, his thrusts becoming sloppy.

it wasnt long before his hips stuttered and you felt his warm cum paint your oesophagus before he pulled out, you swallowed it and opened your mouth wide, showing him proof that you swallowed.

“good girl.” he hums, slapping your face a couple times before lifting you up onto the bed once more.

he strokes his cock a couple times to harden it again, before he’s guiding it down to your pussy. he rubs it up and down your slit, swirling the tip around your clit as you moaned pathetically.

he slaps his cock onto your clit a couple times, watching as your body jerked, before he slipped his cock in. he didnt let you adjust before he was pounding the soul out of you.

“o-oh yeah, fuck baby… pussy so tight…” he grunts, pounding your poor cunt into oblivion.

“rafe! oh god, t-thank you, thank you rafe.” you babble. “so good, so so so good.”

“yeah? so good? of course it is baby, you got rafe’s cock in you. pounding your little cunt, you hear her?” he hums, letting you hear the crude squelching of your arousal.

“yeah, she loves this cock, doesnt she?” all you could do was nod pathetically.

the bed repeatedly hit the wall, in time with his thrusts, he didnt seem to care. muttering something like ‘let everyone hear how good rafe treats you’ and god it made your pussy clench around him.

“fuuuck, do that again..” he moans, his hand pulling your legs up to rest on his shoulders as he drilled into you.

you were so fucking close, your pussy was spasming around his cock. “ray.. fuck ray, i-im gonna…”

“use your words, pretty.” he says softly, kissing from your ankle down to your mid calf and back again.

“‘m gonna cum…” you moan, the sound high-pitched.

“oh yeah? my pussy’s gonna cum all over my cock, is she? yeah, she is baby.” he smirks, reaching between you as he thrusts into your pussy and he rubs your clit.

that’s all it took for your release to engulf you, letting out a loud, scream-like moan as you came. his own hips stuttered and he released his seed deep in your cunt, you swear you felt it hit your cervix.

without wasting any time, he picks your panties from the floor and puts them back on you to let you sit in a pool of your shared cum.

“let this be a lesson, dont perv over me princess. i wont be as kind next time.” he smirks.

he slaps your panty-covered pussy, hearing the lewd squelch of your mixed release. he then walks into his bathroom to have his shower, like originally planned.

#rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks fanfiction #obx fanfiction #rafe obx #s2!rafe #obx season 2 #need that #raw next question #he is so fine #i need him so bad

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caracalla-dondus · 3 days ago

Text

Suspicious Minds

Pairing: Emperor Geta/wife!reader

Summary: A senator informs Geta about the rumors surrounding his wife

Author's Note: This fic consists of pieces I took out from a much longer fic I had written. After reading what I originally wrote I didn't really vibe with the whole thing and so I took out parts I liked best to create this fic. Idk if it's better or worse because things feel a bit rushed in this fic now and not as cohesive as before but it's good enough I think ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I was partly inspired by Fire & Blood where it says that some in court found Queen Rhaenys Targaryen suspicious because she spent time with bards and singers and they were sure she must be having an affair on Aegon I. Also the title is from the Elvis song of the same name because it popped into my head while writing this because it's similar to the plot lol.

~~~

The late afternoon sun streamed through the marble arches of the palace, casting shadows across the floor of the Emperor’s private chamber. Emperor Geta paced restlessly, his jaw clenched tight, his fingers twitching. The rumors had come to him this morning, carried by a senator whose words had been carefully chosen, yet laced with venom.

“She is often seen in the company of poets and bards, my Emperor. Some say perhaps too often.”

The words echoed in Geta’s mind as he strode to the balcony. Below him, others strolled about, oblivious to the storm brewing in his heart. He had always known that his wife had a fondness for the arts. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. The way her eyes lit up when she heard the verses of a poem she thought was interesting, the soft smile that graced her lips during the final notes of a ballad. She was a woman of intelligence and charm. Perfect qualities to be his empress.

But now those very same qualities and interests had become the source of his unrest.

Geta finds his wife out in the garden. “I had hoped to speak with you my wife,” he said, his tone polite but firm.

“What troubles you, my love?” she asked, her brow furrowing as she stepped closer to him.

Geta studied her, his gaze lingering on her face, searching for some sign of guilt. But she looked as she always did, serene, composed, and beautiful. “There are whispers in the court,” he began slowly, “that your affection for music and poetry has extended beyond mere appreciation.”

His wife’s eyes widened, and then she laughed softly, a sound like the chiming of bells. “Surely you don’t believe such nonsense.”

“I don’t want to,” Geta admitted, his voice low. “But the court is not kind to a woman who spends her days surrounded by other men, no matter how innocent her intentions.”

Her smile faded, and she placed a hand on his arm. “Geta, these men are poets, musicians and artists. They speak to me about the soul, not the flesh. My heart belongs to you, and only you.”

He wanted to believe her. He needed to believe her. But the thought of her laughter, her attention, her admiration being bestowed on another man gnawed at him. “Then why do others speak of you so?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly. “Why do they say you adore Bacchus so much that you have embraced his indulgences?”

His wife stiffened, her hand falling away. “Do you question my virtue?” she asked, insulted that her husband would believe such nonsense about her.

“I question the company you keep!” he snapped, the words sharper than he intended.

She took a step back, her expression conveying her hurt and frustration. “You have always known who I am Geta. I am not a woman content to sit idly in the palace, just simply gossiping my day away. I find joy in the divine chaos of creation. If that makes me suspicious in the eyes of our court then so be it. But I will not apologize for things I did not do.”

Her words hung in the air between them, heavy with emotion. Geta clenched his fists, his anger warring with his love for her. Finally he spoke, his voice softer. “I do not wish to stifle you. But I cannot bear the thought of others questioning your loyalty or your love for me.”

His wife stepped closer, her gaze steady. “Then let me reassure you, my emperor. I am as sure of my love for you as I am about Sol bringing us the sun each morning. But if you doubt me, then tell me what must I do to prove myself?”

He sighed, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. “Stay with me tonight,” he murmured. “Let the poets and bards sing their songs without you for once. Let Bacchus have his revelry elsewhere.”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch. “If it will ease your mind, my dear husband then I will stay.”

Geta pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if to shield her from the whispers that sought to undermine them. But even as he held her, a shadow of doubt lingered, refusing to be banished entirely.

The grand halls of the palace echoed with the click of her delicate sandals against the marble floor. The weight of her husband’s arm on her shoulder was both reassuring and suffocating. For the past three days, Geta had not let her out of his sight. Where she went, he followed. Where he could not follow, he sent his guards to watch her every step. It was unlike him, and though his paranoia was silent, she could feel it in the way his fingers tightened around her arm, in the watchful, almost desperate glint in his eyes.

She had tried to comfort him, tried to reassure him of her loyalty, but it seemed no words could pierce through the suspicion that had taken hold of him.

During a feast, Geta watched his wife like a hawk as she entertained a visiting nobleman whose son had written a collection of poems. His wife listened to the man intently, her soft smile never wavering as the man recited a verse.

But Geta saw something else. He saw how the man’s eyes lingered on her, how her laughter seemed to light up the room. His fingers dug into the armrests of his chair, his jaw tightening. Was it admiration? Was it mere courtesy? Or was there something more? The thoughts churned in his mind like a storm, dark and unrelenting.

When the man left, Geta wasted no time. He rose abruptly, crossing the room to where his wife stood.

“You enjoyed his company,” he said, his voice low but laced with accusation.

His wife blinked, startled by his tone. “He was reciting his son’s poetry, my dear husband. That’s all it was.”

“You smiled at him,” Geta pressed, his eyes narrowing. “You laughed.”

“Am I not allowed to smile and laugh?” she asked softly, though there was a tinge of frustration in her voice. “Must I always wear a sour expression to please you?”

His hand shot out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look up at him. “You are mine,” he said, his voice trembling - not with anger, but with something deeper, something more fragile. “Your smiles, your laughter, they belong to me and no one else.”

Her eyes softened as she saw the flicker of insecurity behind his harsh words. She reached up, covering his hand with her own. “And they are yours, Geta,” she murmured. “Only yours.”

His grip loosened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly as if afraid she might vanish. “I will not lose you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I cannot.”

For the next several days, Geta’s wife’s world shrank. Where she once wandered the gardens freely, now her husband walked beside her, his hand resting possessively on her waist. When she visited the library, he went with her. Her gatherings with poets and musicians were no more, replaced by dinners where Geta sat her beside him, his eyes never leaving her.

She tried to be understanding, but his constant scrutiny weighed heavily on her. One evening, as they sat together in their chambers, she finally spoke.

“Geta,” she began, her voice tentative. “Do you not trust me?”

He looked up from the goblet of wine in his hand, his expression guarded. “Of course I trust you, you are my wife,” he said after a long pause. “It is everyone else I do not trust.”

“You cannot keep watch over me forever,” she said.

His jaw tightened. “You are my wife,” he said firmly. “My empress. And I will not risk anyone else taking you from me.”

“Even if it means suffocating me?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Geta flinched, as if her words had struck him. He set the goblet down and rose to his feet, pacing the room. “You do not understand,” he said, his voice low and strained. “I have enemies everywhere. We have enemies everywhere. They would use you against me. They would take you from me. Take your love away from me”

“Who could take me when I am yours in both heart and soul?” she asked, rising to stand before him.

He stopped, his gaze meeting hers. For a moment, he looked like a man on the edge of breaking, his carefully constructed armor of intimidation cracking to reveal the fear beneath. “I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “But the thought of losing you terrifies me.”

She reached out, cupping his face in her hands. “Geta,” she said softly, “you will not lose me. I love you.”

He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me you will never leave me.”

“I promise,” she said, though her heart ached at the desperation in his voice.

He pulled her into his arms again, holding her as if his life depended on it. She sighed softly, resting her head against his chest. She understood that his possessiveness was not born of cruelty, nor out of a need to stifle her but it was of a fear he could not truly voice, a fear he could not truly reconcile with, and it had consumed him.

And so she stayed, tethered to him by her love for him, hoping that soon his insecurities would ease and he would see that she was his, not because he demanded it, but because she chose it. But she was not sure how much she could take of this suffocating behavior. Of every move of hers and every interaction being heavily watched.

She rarely let her frustrations boil to the surface, but this time was different. As she sat across from her husband in their private chambers, the weight of the senator’s venomous words and their impact on her marriage gnawed at her patience. For days and days now, Geta’s suffocating possessiveness had taken over every aspect of her life, and she could no longer bear the thought that this rift between them had been instigated by a man seeking to undermine her, a man seeking to replace her.

She set down her goblet with a sharp clink, her hands trembling, not with fear, but with barely restrained annoyance and anger. “I’ve been thinking, my dear husband,” she began, her voice calm but carrying an obvious edge to it.

Geta glanced up from his seat, his brow furrowing slightly at her tone. “What is it?”

She met his gaze, her eyes blazing with uncharacteristic determination. “The senator who came to you with these baseless rumors. I believe he must be punished.”

Geta blinked, clearly surprised. “Punished? For what?”

“For daring to speak against me,” she replied, her voice firm, slightly exasperated that he did not already know what she spoke of. “For poisoning your mind with lies and causing this… this chaos between us. He sought to undermine your confidence in me, to cast doubt on my loyalty, to possibly destroy my reputation. That is not something we should let go unanswered.”

Geta leaned back in his chair, studying her intently. “You surprise me, wife. I thought you were above petty revenge. You have always counseled me against such rash decisions before”

“This is not petty, nor is it rash!” she shot back, her tone sharpening. “He sought to disgrace me, your wife, your empress. By doing so, he has disgraced you as well. How can you tolerate such audacity?”

Her words struck a nerve. Geta’s insecurities flared, his mind racing as he considered her argument. She was right. The senator’s insinuations had not only called his wife’s loyalty into question but had also implied that Geta was a weak ruler, unable to control his own household. The thought made his blood boil.

“What would you have me do?” he asked, his voice low.

“Demote him. Remove him from his position. Let it be known that you will not tolerate slander against your Empress.”

Geta narrowed his eyes. “And if others see this as an act of weakness? A sign that I am blinded by my love for you?”

“Let them see it as a warning,” she countered. “Let them know that your loyalty to your wife is unwavering and that you will not allow anyone to sow baseless discord in your court.”

Her words appealed to Geta’s pride, and she could see the gears turning in his mind. After a long silence, he nodded slowly. “Very well. The senator will be dealt with. I’ll ensure his removal will be public and soon.”

Relief washed over her, though a part of her felt dissatisfied about simply just having the senator removed from his position. The senator had meddled in her marriage, made her husband watch every move she made for days now, and he deserved to face more severe consequences for it. The senator has a daughter around her age, she felt certain the senator was likely hoping to get her pushed aside to potentially make way for his daughter to get close to Geta, for her to be the next Empress of Rome. Geta’s wife seethed silently at the thought of someone replacing her, of someone attempting to steal her position. She thought about paying Caracalla a visit and informing him of the treacherous senator in their midst. He would certainly give her the dramatic reaction she wants.

Geta rose from his seat, crossing the room to stand before her. He cupped her face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You are right. I should never have allowed his words to poison my mind. You are my empress, my wife. No one will come between us again”

She smiled faintly, leaning into his touch and calming for a moment. “And I will always stand by your side Geta. But we must stand together, against anyone who seeks to divide us.”

Geta kissed her then, fierce and possessive, as if to reaffirm their bond. She let herself melt into the embrace, even as a small voice in the back of her mind wondered if she should push for more to be done about the senator.

~~~~

reader can't take out her frustrations on Geta so she will take it out on the senator who started all of this instead lol

#emperor Geta x reader #Geta x reader #emperor Geta x you #gladiator 2 #gladiator fanfiction #gladiator x reader

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heliosunny · 2 days ago

Note

Hi hi!! Can I request a yan! Jing yuan with an assistant reader? Like manipulative Yuanie. Thinking about how he’ll have one of the people who are your colleagues overload you with work so he can swoop in and save you like he was your “knight in shining armor”. Having you fill out lots of paperwork so you’ll have to work overtime and stay with him more is definitely something he’d do!

I think yan! Jing yuan would also take you out on ‘business dinners’ as he’d like to call it. 🤭🤭

I also wanted to ask do you take nsfw requests? Or maybe you can make a rules list too please!

Mwah ❤️ I hope you have a good day!!!

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Assistant!Reader

The workload had been suffocating lately. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork found their way onto your desk, each page demanding your immediate attention. Your fingers ached from gripping the brush for too long, eyes burning as you struggled to keep up. It didn’t make sense how your responsibilities had doubled out of nowhere.

"Ah, still working?" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts.

Jing Yuan leaned against the doorway of your office, golden eyes filled with amusement as he took in the sight of your disheveled state.

"You're overworking yourself" he chided, stepping in. "That’s no good. If you collapse, who will assist me?"

You let out a tired sigh, rubbing your temples. "I don’t have a choice. These reports need to be done before the deadline."

Jing Yuan hummed thoughtfully, gaze flickering over the piles of documents. "Strange. I was under the impression that some of these tasks weren’t meant for you…"

His voice was light, almost casual, but something about it made your skin prickle. Before you could respond, he reached out, plucking a report from the top of the stack.

"Ah, this one" he mused, flipping through the pages. "This should have been handled by your colleague. How peculiar."

Your brows furrowed. Had you really been doing work that wasn’t meant for you? It made sense now—why everything had felt overwhelming lately.

Jing Yuan sighed dramatically, setting the papers aside. "It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design." He tilted his head, white strands of hair slipping over his shoulder as he offered a sympathetic smile. "I’ll have to look into this."

"For now" he continued, "why don’t you take a break? Stay a little longer with me. I was just about to have dinner—perhaps you’d care to join me? Consider it a business dinner, of course."

You shook your head, exhaustion pressing down on your shoulders. "I appreciate the offer, General, but I can’t. I still have work to finish."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes flickered with something unreadable before he let out a soft chuckle. "Ah, such diligence. It’s admirable, really." He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. "But overworking yourself won’t earn you any favors, you know."

Still, you refused to budge. "I’ll manage."

Jing Yuan sighed, feigning defeat. "Very well, if you insist." He straightened, a small smile playing on his lips. "At least allow me to lend a hand. I can ease some of your burdens—"

"No."

The word left your lips firmer than expected. His smile didn’t falter, but there was a flicker of something in his gaze, something unreadable yet sharp.

You didn’t give him a chance to press further. With a quick bow, you excused yourself, diving back into your work before he could weave his words around you again.

By the time you finished, the lights are already on. The cool night air biting against your skin. You exhaled, finally free from the suffocating weight of paperwork.

Or so you thought.

Jing Yuan was leaning against one of the pillars near the entrance, arms crossed in an almost lazy manner.

"You’re late" he murmured, pushing himself off the pillar. "I was beginning to worry."

"General? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Working until this hour—alone, no less? That’s hardly safe."

"I can take care of myself. How old do you think I am?"

Jing Yuan tilted his head, his amusement growing. "I don’t doubt that. But even the strongest warriors aren’t invincible." He stepped closer. "If you had accepted my help earlier, I wouldn’t have had to wait for you like this."

"You—waited for me?"

Jing Yuan let out a soft hum. "Of course. What kind of superior would I be if I let my hardworking assistant wander home alone at such an ungodly hour?"

His logic was twisted, you knew that. But the way he said it, the way his voice dripped with gentle concern, made it difficult to argue.

"Come," he said, placing a hand on your back, guiding you forward. "I’ll escort you home."

-----

The moment you stepped into your office, dread settled deep in your stomach.

More paperwork. MORE PAPERWORK?

The stacks had doubled—no, tripled overnight. Piles upon piles of documents sat on your desk, some even spilling onto the floor. It was impossible. There was no way this much work had suddenly appeared unless…

Your mind flickered back to the conversation from yesterday. Jing Yuan’s words echoed in your head.

"It seems someone has been overloading you, either by accident… or design."

A sinking feeling settled in your chest, but you shook it off. You didn’t have time to dwell on suspicions, not when you were buried under all this.

You spent the morning frantically working, but no matter how fast you went, the papers never seemed to end. By midday, your exhaustion became unbearable. Your pride screamed at you to push through, to handle it yourself, but reality was much crueler.

You needed help.

And you knew exactly who to ask.

Reluctantly, you made your way to Jing Yuan’s office, fingers curling into the fabric of your sleeves. The guards outside barely spared you a glance before letting you in.

Inside, Jing Yuan lounged comfortably behind his desk, golden eyes lifting lazily as you entered. His lips curled into a knowing smile.

"Ah, what a pleasant surprise" he mused. "To what do I owe the honor?"

You hesitated. Even without looking at him, you could feel his gaze, sharp and expectant.

Taking a small breath, you finally spoke, voice quieter than intended.

"I… need help."

The silence stretched between you for a moment, thick with something you couldn’t quite place. Then, Jing Yuan chuckled.

"My, my," he drawled, resting his chin against his palm. "So even my diligent assistant has limits. How adorable."

Your face burned, and you instinctively looked away.

"I would never abandon a subordinate in need," he said smoothly while walking over to you. "But…"

You tensed as he stopped just inches away from you, his presence overwhelming.

"I have one condition."

You swallowed. "What is it?"

He smiled. "You’ll sit near me while we work. That’s all."

That was… it? No outrageous demand, no unreasonable request?

Sensing your hesitation, Jing Yuan leaned in ever so slightly, his voice a soft murmur. "Surely, that’s not too much to ask?"

You bit your lip before reluctantly nodding. "...Alright."

Jing Yuan’s smile widened. "Good."

Without another word, he led you to his desk, gesturing toward the seat beside his. The placement left little space between you, the close proximity forcing you to feel the warmth of his presence.

"Now," he said, handing you a brush, his fingers grazing yours for just a moment too long. "Let’s begin, shall we?"

As you dipped the brush into the ink, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had fallen right into his trap.

The quiet scratching of brushes against paper filled the office, the occasional rustling of documents the only other sound. You sat stiffly beside Jing Yuan, fully aware of his presence as he worked leisurely beside you.

It wasn’t just the closeness that unsettled you—it was the way his eyes would flicker to you every so often, studying you between strokes of his brush.

"You’re quite tense" Jing Yuan noted, voice laced with amusement.

You didn’t look up. "I’m just focusing."

"Hmm." He leaned back slightly, stretching. "I wonder… do I make you nervous?"

Your fingers twitched slightly around the brush, but you forced yourself to keep writing. "Of course not, General."

Jing Yuan chuckled, clearly entertained. "No need for such formalities. We’re spending so much time together—surely, you can call me Jing Yuan?"

You hesitated, but before you could think of a response, he smoothly shifted the subject.

"I must say," he mused, "this is quite an improvement. If I had known all it took to keep you close was a bit of extra work, I would have arranged this much sooner."

You turned to him, only to be met with his usual easy-going smile.

"Just a joke," he reassured lightly. "Unless… you’d rather I keep you overworked? I could make sure you need my help every day."

There it was again. That subtle pressure wrapped in velvet words.

You swallowed hard and forced a polite chuckle. "That won’t be necessary."

Jing Yuan exhaled as if disappointed. "Pity."

Hours passed, and despite his slow, deliberate pace, he finished his portion faster than you. He hummed, watching you struggle to keep up.

"You’re still working?" he asked, feigning concern. "You really should take a break."

"I can’t afford to. There’s still too much left."

Jing Yuan hummed in thought. Then, as if struck by an idea, he leaned in slightly, his voice a near whisper.

"How about this?" His tone was warm, coaxing. "I’ll help you again tomorrow… but only if you have dinner with me afterward."

"You deserve a meal after working so hard," he continued, resting his chin on his palm. "And it’d be nice, wouldn’t it? Just the two of us, away from all these dreadful reports?"

It sounded harmless enough.

Reluctantly, you nodded. "Alright."

Jing Yuan smiled, pleased.

"Good" he murmured. "Then it’s a promise."

The sun had long since dipped below the horizon, casting the Xianzhou Luofu in a soft, warm glow. Lanterns flickered to life as you walked beside Jing Yuan, your exhaustion weighing heavily on your shoulders. He had insisted on walking with you, his usual lazy smile in place, but there was an unmistakable satisfaction in his gaze.

You had been too drained to argue.

The restaurant he chose was far from the usual places where officials gathered for formal meetings. It was intimate, the kind of place that felt too personal for just work.

"You didn’t have to pick somewhere this… refined" you murmured, hesitant as you stepped inside.

Jing Yuan chuckled. "Nonsense. You deserve a proper meal after all your hard work." He guided you to a private table tucked away from prying eyes, his hand lingering just a second too long against your back.

As you sat down, a waiter arrived almost instantly, as if they had been expecting you.

"Order whatever you like," Jing Yuan encouraged, waving a hand dismissively. "Consider it a reward for your dedication."

You hesitated before cautiously selecting something modest. The last thing you wanted was to feel indebted.

Jing Yuan, on the other hand, ordered without restraint.

"You know" he mused, "I admire your work ethic, but I do wonder—do you ever take time for yourself?"

"I don’t have much choice. The workload has been… demanding."

His golden eyes glinted. "Ah, yes. It seems someone keeps piling too much on you, doesn’t it?"

You glanced at him suspiciously, but he merely took a sip of his wine, his expression unreadable.

"It’s a shame" he continued, "how easily people take advantage of you. Always so responsible, so eager to prove yourself… It makes you an easy target."

His words struck a nerve—not because they were wrong, but because he was speaking as if he weren’t the very person orchestrating your exhaustion.

"You make it sound like I’m helpless" you muttered.

Jing Yuan let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. "Not at all. You’re quite capable… But even the strongest warriors need someone to protect them sometimes."

There it was again. That gentle, insistent push—reminding you that he was the only one who truly saw you, the only one who cared enough to step in.

Your meal arrived, breaking the tension momentarily. You focused on eating, but Jing Yuan never stopped watching, his gaze following every small movement you made.

"You should eat more" he remarked at one point, nudging a dish toward you. "You push yourself too hard. It worries me."

"This is just a business dinner" you reminded him, almost as if you were reminding yourself.

"Of course," he agreed easily. "Just business."

But the way he poured you another drink, the way his fingers brushed against yours with each small gesture, told you otherwise.

Jing Yuan was in no rush to leave, drawing out the meal with casual conversation and idle remarks about work, yet every topic always circled back to you.

"You should rest more." "You work too hard." "It must be exhausting, always carrying everything on your shoulders."

His voice was gentle, warm, the perfect balance of concern and admiration.

“I should head home” you finally said, setting your chopsticks down. “It’s getting late.”

Jing Yuan tilted his head slightly, his golden eyes studying you in silence. Then, he sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

"I suppose you’re right" he said, sounding almost disappointed. "I wouldn’t want to keep you from your much-needed rest."

Relief flooded you—until he added, “I’ll escort you.”

You tensed. “That’s really not necessary...”

"I insist."

You swallowed your protest, knowing that arguing would only drag this out longer. With a quiet nod, you allowed him to walk you home. The city was quiet at this hour, save for the occasional passerby. Yet somehow, despite the openness of it all, you felt cornered.

Jing Yuan didn’t speak much, but the silence between you was anything but comfortable. When you finally arrived at your door, you turned to him quickly, hoping to end the night before he could push further. "Thank you for the dinner, General."

Jing Yuan smiled. "No need to be so formal. After all," he reached out, lightly brushing his fingers against the back of your hand, "we're much closer now, aren’t we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, but before you could step back, he withdrew his hand with a chuckle.

"Rest well, I'll see you at work tomorrow."

With that, he turned and walked away, his figure slowly disappearing into the night.

-----

Jing Yuan had been in a good mood that morning.

You had shyly asked for his help, relied on him, and even allowed him to walk you home. His patience was paying off, you were already beginning to lean on him, just as he had planned.

So when he strolled into the office, humming softly to himself, he expected to find you waiting for him, as usual.

Instead, what he saw made his easygoing expression freeze.

There you were, standing beside another officer, chatting casually as if the exhaustion from yesterday had never existed.

Jing Yuan’s sharp eyes immediately honed in on the scene—on the way you nodded, the small laugh you let out at something the officer said.

That wasn’t part of the plan.

The lazy, pleased expression he had worn all morning dulled into something unreadable.

Slowly, he stepped forward, his presence casting a long shadow as he approached.

Your conversation stalled the moment you noticed him. The officer beside you stiffened, standing at attention.

"Ah, General!" the officer greeted with forced politeness. "Good morning."

Jing Yuan’s golden eyes didn’t even acknowledge him. Instead, they remained on you.

"Good morning," he said pleasantly, but there was no warmth in his voice. "I hope I’m not… interrupting anything important?"

"No, we were just talking about-"

"Ah, I see," Jing Yuan interrupted "And here I thought you had your hands full with work."

The officer looked between the two of you, sensing the tension. "I should get going" he mumbled quickly before excusing himself.

"Was something wrong?"

Jing Yuan chuckled, shaking his head. "Not at all," he said lightly, stepping closer. "I just found it surprising."

"Surprising?"

"That you still have the energy to entertain idle chatter… after all that work."

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Jing Yuan placed a hand on your shoulder—gentle, yet firm enough to root you in place.

"Come now" he murmured, voice as smooth as silk. "There’s still plenty to do, isn’t there?"

In that moment, you understood—he wasn’t pleased.

And he wouldn’t let this slide.

The tension from the morning never fully left.

Jing Yuan acted as if nothing had happened, his usual lazy smile in place, his voice carrying the same smooth, amused tone.

But you could feel it.

The real punishment began soon after.

It started subtly.

Your workload, already overwhelming, suddenly doubled.

Requests that would usually be divided among the other assistants somehow all ended up on your desk. Forms, reports, urgent documents—all requiring immediate attention, all piling up at an alarming rate.

By noon, you could barely breathe under the pressure.

Still, you pushed through, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you struggle.

But just as you were starting to make progress, Jing Yuan’s voice interrupted your focus.

"Ah, this one’s incorrect." he mused, holding up a form you had completed earlier.

You blinked, frowning. "But I—"

"Fix it for me, won’t you?" he cut in smoothly, placing it back on your desk.

You stared at the document, confusion creeping in. You were certain you had filled it out correctly. But when you reached for another, you saw that the one you had submitted before, the one he himself had approved, was suddenly filled with minor errors.

Mistakes that hadn’t been there before.

Had he… altered them?

Before you could question it, he spoke again, his tone light and teasing.

"It’s unlike you to be so careless" he mused, resting his chin on his hand as he watched you. "Are you perhaps… distracted?"

He was toying with you.

And yet, what could you say?

Accusing him directly would only backfire.

So, you swallowed your frustration and forced yourself to keep working.

By the time evening arrived, exhaustion clung to you like a second skin. You could barely think straight, your hands aching from the relentless writing. Just as you were about to gather your things to leave, a shadow fell over your desk. Jing Yuan.

"You’ve worked so hard today" he said, his voice like silk. "Why don’t I treat you to dinner again?"

Your body screamed for rest, but you knew—this wasn’t an invitation.

It was a test.

And you already knew what happened to those who disappointed him.

So, with a quiet nod, you accepted.

And just like that, he won again.

-----

I think I'll update some rules if I have time.

For now, I don't receive NSFW content, it's a bit challenging for me in that field. :3 I rather focus on what I'm capable of doing rather than accepting all requests and giving you unwanted results.

#yandere x reader #yandere #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #yandere honkai star rail #yandere hsr x reader #jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x y/n #honkai starrail #hsr

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