#it was made for a pride month collab | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

littleprinces · 5 months ago

Text

712 Times

(Weeekly Han Jihyo x Male Reader, A lot of Degrading, Rope Play, Pet Play, Vibrator, Nipple Clamps, Daddy kink, titfucking, Idol Jihan)

(this is my first collab with @smutoperator)

Happy Jihan Day!

In the dimly lit backstage of a bustling concert hall, excitement and anticipation filled the air. The stage was set for our highly anticipated comeback showcase, and I could hear the eager fans waiting on the other side of the curtain. Amidst the scattered crew members and bustling assistants, I stood there, my heart racing with a mixture of pride and longing. My girlfriend, Jihan, the enchanting idol, was out there performing with her group.

Tonight was special. After months of preparation, sweat, and tireless dedication, my girlfriend and her five group members were making their grand return to the spotlight. The thought of her captivating presence on stage brought a smile to my lips, but it also reminded me of the distance fame had placed between us. Yet, I cherished these moments when I could be near her, even if only from the shadows.

The muffled cheers of the audience reached my ears as the performance began. I could almost see her in my mind—her bright smile, graceful movements, and sheer charisma that made her an idol adored by many. As each song concluded, the applause grew louder, affirming the group's triumphant return. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, but finally, the showcase came to an end. The stage lights dimmed, and the audience's applause gradually faded.

I took a deep breath, my anticipation growing. Moments later, the backstage area buzzed with activity as the performers filed in, surrounded by their entourage. And then I saw her—my girlfriend, her face glowing with the exhilaration of the performance. As the performance ended and the backstage area buzzed with activity, I finally saw her making her way towards me. Her face lit up as she spotted me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"You were amazing out there," I said, pulling her into a tight hug. She laughed softly, a little out of breath. "Thank you. I could feel your support the whole time." "I wouldn't miss it for the world," I replied, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You always shine so brightly." She blushed, leaning in for a quick kiss. "It's because I have you cheering me on. It makes all the difference."

We lingered in each other's arms for a moment longer before I asked, "Ready to head home?" She nodded eagerly. "Absolutely. Let's get out of here." Hand in hand, we made our way through the backstage chaos, slipping out to the quiet comfort of her apartment. In the car, she sighed contentedly. "I missed this. Just being with you, without all the noise."I squeezed her hand. "Me too. Let's make the most of tonight." As we reached her apartment and settled in, the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of us.

Jihan's new blonde hair made her look so hot it felt like she was 712 times more fuckable with it. Her 20th birthday was just a couple days away, so I felt like it was the perfect time to show her how much I wanted it and turn her into my personal pet. I tied her ankles and cuffed her hands, ready to dominate her and make her transition from an innocent teenager into a full-fledged slut. She had never ventured into this kind of relationship before, but I could tell she was really excited to try it.

I picked up a crop and gave Jihan's pussy a few taps that made her moan, teasing her on the apartment's couch as I quickly pulled her panties to the side. "Put your tongue out," I told her, giving it a few taps. After a few light hits in her clit, I took her bra off and started spanking her big tits with it, having fun with her sexy young body, before switching to using my own hands to grope her tits and finger her perfect pussy.

"I'm just teasing you, there is much more to come," I told Jihan, giving her body a few spanks. "What do you want little whore?" I asked her. "I want this fucking cock," she said with a soft voice. I answered her wishes, unzipping my pants for her to suck it, giving her back some light taps as Jihan slowly got my cock wet with her sloppy blowjob that made her tits bounce freely, while I reached to tap them from time to time.

"I see you like to take that cock deep in your throat; you suck it so good," I told her. I grabbed Jihan by her beautiful blonde hair, reaching to get a whip as she took my cock all the way down her throat. Shortly after, I started spanking her and then moved to fuck her pretty face. "You like that?" I asked her. "Ahhhh, yeah," Jihan moaned. "Say it." I increased the speed of the spanking, hitting her back multiple times. "Oh, I love it, Daddy," Jihan replied.

"Be a good girl; get on your knees on the couch and show me those tits," I demanded of her. Jihan gave me a cute stare and squeezed her big boobs between her tied-up arms. "What do you want, Jihan? My big cock after the showcase?" I asked her. "Yes, please, Daddy, please put it between my tits," she begged.

I did just that and started banging Jihan's big boobs. Quickly, I got back to spanking her. "Yes, yes, please, Daddy, spank me; I'm a bad girl, i'm your private whore" Jihan says, her eyes begging for me to dominate her as my meat got sandwiched between her big pair of tits. "Keep going, keep going, bounce those big tits in my cock," I said to her.

I show Jihan not only can I spank it with my whip, using my cock to hit her tits. "You like the way I treat your big tits?" I asked her. "Yes, daddy," she says. "You want that big dick inside you, Jihan?" I keep asking. "Please, Daddy," she says. "Maybe later, I'll think about it, but you'll have to deserve it," I tell her.

I tie Jihan to the couch's leg and start eating her pussy. "Don't cum, bitch, or you're not going to get my cock for tonight," I tell her. Her pussy turns into my playground as I massage it while kissing her and sucking her big milkers. My hands go deep down in her cunt, and soon I bring a cock-shaped vibrator into the mix, putting it on Jihan's mouth. "Get it wet; you'll have to take it your pussy to show me you deserve my cock," I tell her.

I move the vibrator into Jihan's entrance, slowly tucking it in her pussy as I turn it on, making her moan hard. I also pay special attention to her already erected nipples, massaging and sucking them multiple times as Jihan is already collapsing in pleasure before I even got inside her. Then I use the crop for some extra taps in her boobs to tease her.

I ran the crop around Jihan's thighs, spanking the area close to her pussy. "Count to ten each time I spank it," I tell her. "One, two, three, AHHHHH," Jihan says every time I hit her. I move up and go back to tease her boobs and then play further with the vibrator, turning Jihan into a mess of begging and moaning. "Stay strong. If you cum, you won't get Daddy's cock," I tell her.

After a long warming-up session, I'm finally ready to fuck the brains out of my girlfriend turned pet, removing the vibrator from Jihan's already extremely wet pussy. "Get back on the couch and turn around; I want you to show me that ass," I demand of her. Jihan gets on all fours in the couch, and as soon as she does, I violently whip her butt multiple times. "AH, AH, AH, AH," she screams. "Tell me what you want," I ask her. "YOUR COCK INSIDE ME," she screams.

Jihan's panties get pulled down as I marvel at the view of her perfect ass. More spanking ensues. "Little Slut wants my cock inside of her?" I keep asking. "YES, DADDY, GIVE ME ALL OF IT," she begs, screaming again. "Why do you want it?" I keep teasing. "Because it's so good, I want to be a good pet for Daddy, his little big tit cocksleeve," Jihan replies.

"Then take it," I say, putting my cock on Jihan's pussy and pounding her hard on all fours. "YES, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME," she screams as I dominate her and spank her back and ass with my bare hands. Jihan's pussy get mercilessly fucked, her big boobs already bouncing hard. I treat her like a fleshlight. "Spank me, daddy, spank me, please," she says as I abuse her asscheeks and quickly make them red, enjoying how far that makes her boobs jiggle.

"OHHHHHHH FUCKKKKKKK," Jihan screams as I keep attacking her pussy hard and deep. Her bouncy tits are such a spectacle, and her needy face even more so. Good lord, I could fuck her for 712 straight hours and never get tired of it.

"Pull my hair, please, Daddy, and spank me more," Jihan begs as I push her hot body closer to mine. That little horny pet keeps getting obliterated as I show no signs of slowing down, giving her tight young pussy the pounding it deserves. "AHHHHHH," Jihan screams again as I do it just as she asks. "You told me to do that; don't complain, little slut," I tell her.

"DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM, OHHHHHHH," Jihan screams. I spank and fuck her even harder when I hear those words, fully mounding on top of her. Face down, ass up like a good slut, I treat Jihan like an object, only useful to get stretched out by my raging boner. She can only moan and scream as her big tits get pancaked against the couch each time I hit her deep in the pussy.

"Come here, little whore, show me how much you want to sit on that cock," I tell her, flipping Jihan back and feeding her face full of cock with no breaks in between. "Good slut, look at those beautiful bouncy tits; you're so good," I say to her. Jihan presses her beautiful, cute face against my cock, and I fully take her panties off and order her to suck my prick as I lie on the couch, spanking her while she does it. "Keep sucking that cock," I tell her as she tries to resist all that spanking.

"Sit that wet pussy in there," I soon demand, spanking Jihan's already red butt as soon as she puts my cock back inside her. Her big, bouncy boobs are already within range as Isuck them every time they come close to my face. "Give those titties to Daddy," I say, quickly taking control as I pound Jihan from down low and attack her tits with my tongue and her ass with my hands.

"Come on, use that cock; show me how much you like it," I tell Jihan, who's never been stimulated like that. "I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING, I'M CUMMING," she screams. "Cum all over that fucking cock," I say, pounding her like crazy as Jihan collapses on top of my body. But I don't care and just keep fucking her throbbing cunt, also fingering her asshole to add to the stimulation, making Jihan cover my cock full of juices, using the crop to add to the ass-spanking of her.

I keep fucking Jihan nonstop as she clings onto my arms. She may be on top, but I completely own her. My girlfriend is turned into a free-use fleshlight who can't stop cumming on my cock. "Ride that fucking cock, slut," I demand of her, who bounces her red ass on it like a good slut. "Is that what you want, right little fuckdoll?" I tell her. "YES, DADDY," she replies.

I dive my face into Jihan's udders while she keeps riding my pole, her boobs hitting my mouth from every angle, making me go even more feral as her pussy is fully stretched out. "Stand up on the couch," I tell her as I pull out of her pussy, but my cock gets quickly replaced by my fingers massasing her core and making her squirt fountains of juices right straight into my mouth.

More riding ensues, as I'm now just watching Jihan do it in a straightened position, reaching with my hands and my crop to hit her big bouncy tits at will. Soon, I'm back to hitting Jihan's whole body: her pretty slutty face, her fully shaved pink pussy, her sexy butt, but first and foremost her massive milkers. "KEEP STRETCHING MY HOLES, DADDY," Jihan screams as I do just that.

After I'm done with this round of fucking, I let Jihan taste all the juices she coated my cock with, giving a gift to my cute pet as she bobs her head all over that big shaft. "Choke on that fucking cock," I tell her. "Now give me those tiddies," I quickly demand as Jihan spits between them and uses her boobs to massage my throbbing cock until you shot my load all over them.

"Damn, look at the mess I made on your big milkers," I told Jihan. But I was far from done, picking some clamps and placing them at her cum-covered nipples. "Your day as my pet is just beginning," I said. Next, I placed a dog collar on her neck and gave her an order. "Get on all fours; we're going to a different room, and I'm gonna fuck your even more," I told her. Jihan obeyed and crawled like a puppy until we reached our next destination.

Waiting for Jihan, there was an X-cross where I tied her up. As I slowly got myself hard again, I sucked her big tits and reached inside her wet pussy, teasing my pet girlfriend. "This is way more entertaining than what I was expecting," I tell Jihan. "Ohhh, yesss, Daddy, you like treating me like your pet?" Jihan asks. "A lot," I say as I start jerking off my cock and quickly get it back to throbbing hard for Jihan.

I slap my cock on Jihan's sexy thighs as I kiss her and finger her core. She starts moaning back again as I lift her left leg and put my cock back in her pussy. "Oh yes, that feels so good," Jihan says as I thrust my cock in and out of her cunt. "Just like that, Daddy," she says. I put her back on her feet and sucked her tits. "Such a good toy," I say.

I pick up the crop back and spank her ass, then tease her boobs and circle it around her nipples; more ass spanking follows as a tied-up Jihan can't do anything to stop me. Her boobs once again get the most attention as I do the sucking and spanking at the same time, before moving down into her pink pussy.

"What are you going to do next, Daddy?" Jihan asks. "You'll find out soon," I tell her. "Please, let me find out, Daddy," an already numb Jihan replies as I tease her clit with the crop. "But first I need to eat," I say, diving into her wet pussy to suck it. "Damn, daddy, that feels so good; I love that tongue," Jihan says.

"Does that pussy taste good enough for Daddy?" Jihan asks as she starts trembling, getting very weak as she's being held at the cross. "All my body is tingling, Daddy," she says as I move up to suck her tits and feed your fingers in her mouth.

"I want to fuck you from behind while you are standing," I tell Jihan. "Yes, Daddy, do whatever you want," she replies. I untie Jihan from the cross as she sucks my cock to get it back wet. "All I want to do is please you, Daddy," she says. "Then please me taking more cock in that pussy," I say, getting behind her and stretching her out once again, loving how the clamps on her nipples are bouncing when I fuck her.

"Is that pussy good enough for Daddy? Nice and wet, like you want it? Am I a good girl, Daddy?" Jihan keeps asking, but I let my thursts do the talk as her pussy starts queefing. "Yes, daddy, please, use my fucking hole," she says as my hips clap against her cheeks.

"Please keep fucking me; I'm Daddy's pet; that cock feels so good; please don't stop; Daddy loves my pussy," Jihan says as I indeed can't stop, giving her the special fucking I craved for, spending long minutes taking her from behind.

Jihan coats the floor with her squirt, and as soon as she does, I take it as a sign to push it harder. I lift Jihan's body up and start carry-fucking her. "OH MY GOD, DADDY," she screams as I attack her pussy while being the only one holding her so she doesn't fall off. "OH DADDY, YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CUM AGAIN," an exausted Jihan says.

"No, you're gonna make me cum," I tell Jihan, brining her back to the couch and putting her sideways. "Your cock feels so good in my tight little pussy, daddy," Jihan says as she gets a good spooning fuck on the couch. After a while, I take her off of it and pin her against the glass, giving her another pounding. "Please, Daddy, give me more," she begs. It seems like I have fucked Jihan throughout the entire apartment at this point, but I just don't want to stop.

More spanking in Jihan's butt follows. "Harder, harder, please fuck me harder, Daddy," she begs, as she can barely stand up at this point. I have fucked her for around 30 minutes, but to her it must have felt like 3 hours considering how hard I have screwed her little pink pussy.

Jihan can barely walk at this point, but that won't stop me from using her for more pleasure. I feed my cock in her face again as I put her tied hands up. "Are you ready for another surprise, little pet?" I ask her. "Yes, daddy," she replies.

I bring a Sybian for Jihan to sit on, taking the controller on my hands. I start slowly, letting the vibrating cock work in her pussy as I watch her get wetter and wetter while I grab her tits. Slowly picking up speed, I put Jihan at the mercy of the machine while I dive her head into my shaft and pinch her clamped nipples. More face-fucking ensues as the sybian now works at full speed inside Jihan's cunt, to the point she can't contain herself anymore.

"Ride that dick, little whore" I tell her as Jihan quivers with the intense vibration on the inside. My hands massaging her tits, my cock massaging her mouth, the toy massaging her pussy—it's just too much for her to handle as Jihan gets an exploding orgasm that makes her squirt all over the carpet just as she announces she's going to cum.

"AHHHHHHHHHH, AHHHHHHHHH, PLEASSSEEEEEE, FUCKKKKKKK," Jihan screams as she collapses after the intense Sybian massage. But I have one more massage to give her, laying her back on the couch, ready to finish where it all started as I put Jihan under a mating press and intensely pound her pussy.

"Give me every single massage of that fucking cock, daddy," Jihan says. "I want you to cum inside my pussy; I want you to give me every single drop," she begs. That truly surprises me. Jihan had not taken any birth control pills, meaning she was essentially begging me to impregnate her, and surely I was gonna take the opportunity, emptying my balls inside her shortly after she demands to get her tight pussy filled up.

"That was so good, Jihan; I hope we fuck like that 712 more times," you tell her. "Well, Daddy, my birthday is coming in a few days. I hope you have a special gift for your little pet," she replies.

"You bet I will," I promise her. And you know she can't wait.

Back in Jihan's pussy I go, and she loves it. "Yes, daddy, yes, please, use that pussy for your pleasure; my pussy is all yours," Jihan moans. "I fucked your friend Zoa in that position a month ago for her birthday; her legs were so fucking long and her pussy so fucking tight I couldn't resist and had to cum inside her," I brag to Jihan, talking about how I cheated on her with her groupmate straight to her face, risking no consequences whatsoever because I own her.

"Ride that dick," I tell her as Jihan quivers with the intense vibration on the inside. My hands massaging her tits, my cock massaging her mouth, the toy massaging her pussy—it's just too much for her to handle as Jihan gets an exploding orgasm that makes her squirt all over the carpet just as she announces she's going to cum.

"That was so good, Jihan; I hope we fuck like that 712 more times," you tell her. "Well, Daddy, my birthday is coming in a few days. I hope you have a special gift for your little pet," she replies.

"You bet I will," I promise her. And you know she can't wait.

#female idol smut #girl group smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #weeekly smut #jihan smut #han jihyo

604 notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 5 months ago

Text

Strawberry Wine - Part 1

Pairing: Lee Jihoon (Woozi) x Fem!Reader

Genre: Romantic Comedy, Strangers to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Fake Dating, Smut (not in this part) MDNI!

Synopsis: After breaking off your engagement to your cheating fiancé, you decide to take the planned trip to Paris anyway. A vacation alone with the honeymoon suite all to yourself seems like the perfect distraction. Just that, due to an internal error at the hotel lost soul Jihoon, who still isn't over his first love's death five years ago, is staying in the same honeymoon suite as you.

Warnings (in this part): mentions of cheating, alcohol consumption, angst, probably a not so good description of paris tbh, the word "cock" is mentioned once, slight sexual tension

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: hi everyone!! this is part one of my story for the world tour collab hostes by @svthub!! check out the masterlist here! this one is a bit of a... beginning, i guess, lol. the real drama and smut and all that will be in part two. but i still think this is a a fun part to get to know our characters! this not beta read and i might edit it later... thanks for reading i hope you enjoy <3 header & divider credit to @okiedokrie!

one; the author

The flash of the camera goes off and you’re almost sure your eyes were closed. The teenage girl next to you smiles brightly and waves at you once more before rushing off to go over to her mother. You lightly smile back and look over to your right where Minghao is giving you a thumbs up. Apparently, so you interpret his gesture, you’re holding up quite well for someone who just caught her fiancée cheating two weeks ago.

You’re aware that you could have canceled the book signing today. No one would have been mad. But even though your heart is shattered to a million pieces and you don’t think you’ll ever heal from this hurt - you still need to earn money and make those who give you that money happy. Just sucks that the person you build this with is somewhere on the Bahamas with your biggest rival on the romance book market. Or, well, as your publisher says: your bestest friend on the romance book market. Since you’re both making money, of course. You can’t count the times you and her have been sent to events together, not saying a word to each other on the way there and playing happy family the second you are in front of the cameras.

Her books weren’t even good! Boring and predictable if anyone asked you. Your ex had always agreed with you, even if he was her agent as well as yours. But Jaehyun was slick - he told her the same about your books.

“Hi, oh my god, I love your books so much! I can’t wait for the next one!” It’s a boy with the brightest and whitest smile you have ever seen and for a second you can forget your sadness.

“Thank you so much. What name do you want me to sign?”

The book signing ends about half an hour later. You’re in the car with Minghao who’s typing something on his phone as he sits in the backseat with you.

“You did great, you know.” He says, not looking up. His words make your stomach turn uncomfortably even though you know he means well.

“Thanks,” is your mumbled response, your head slowly turning to look out of the window. Minghao sets down his phone, realizing his words didn’t come out the way he wanted them to. He sighs.

“Best friend dearest,” he starts, “you know what I meant. Considering you have been in your room with no lights on and Adele on repeat for the last few months - you did exceptionally well socializing with people you don’t know.”

“It’s my job after all, isn’t it?”

“No, your job is writing brilliant books, Y/N. This is just a bonus. Your books would sell wonderfully even without you doing this.”

Three months ago this would have made your chest fill with pride. You’d be beaming and agreeing with Minghao, content with your life and what you had made it to be. But now, it’s different.

Now, all you feel is ache in your chest. No sense of pride, no smile in sight. No contentment with how your life is going. Joy has been missing in your palette of feelings for a long time.

The city lights are what keep you awake. Exhaustion and the feeling of sadness that you have become so used to are close to make you falter, to make you want to go home and put those Adele songs right back on repeat. It’s not fair, you think. Not fair that your life was ruined this way and you can’t get back up. That all you’re able to do is live because you have to, not because you want to. And the closer July 17th comes - the more you feel yourself falling deeper into a hole.

It’s hard to believe that three months ago you were a completely different person. A person who loved to laugh, who had fun game nights with her friends, cooked every day, went for runs in the morning, planned a wedding. You were a person who loved to love. All of this was accompanied by the person you had been sure you’d spend the rest of your life with: Jaehyun. He was tall, handsome, kind. You had met him through work - he had been assigned your agent when you switched publishers. He was your muse. Helped you with your books, made the sales sky rocket with the way he marketed you.

For five years he was your everything. In some ways (ways you loathed) he still is. Your whole life revolved around him. Wherever you went - he did too. Whenever you fell - he was there to catch you. Nothing in the world could have ever prepared you for what was going to happen. But then again, when is someone ever prepared to be cheated on by the person they trusted the most in their life?

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. Accidentally finding the messages he sent to her on his iPad. Confronting him and seeing his face fall, his expressions change into something you had never thought possible. He looked caught. Mainly because he was. Also because he never thought the truth would come to light. You had been the only one left in the dark. Everyone at the publishing house knew what he was doing. He and her.

It wasn’t fair, you knew that, but in the beginning you couldn’t handle being mad at Jaehyun. Instead you focused all your anger on her, all the hurt you felt. It wasn’t like you had particularly liked her before - she was your rival, the person everyone always compared you to. She was younger than you, didn’t have as much experience - but she was more successful. At least to an extent. Her books regularly went viral on ‘booktok’, mainly because she wrote them like she worked in a factory. Every couple of months there’d be a new one - and people ate it up. You, on the other hand, liked to take your time, liked to write stories with captivating characters, with characters people could relate to - fall in love with.

Suddenly your biggest rival became the person you hated and wanted to be like the most in the world. To be her would mean to have him. Him, who you still love so much, who still means everything.

It is a little different now. 100 days later and you feel like you don’t love him as much anymore. Yes, it still hurts like hell and, yes, you want to stay home most of the days. But you don’t miss him as much as you used to.

“Do you want to grab a drink?” Minghao asks now even though he already knows the answer. Gosh, you wish you could give him a yes. A smile and a yes. Instead, you only present him with the first, stretching out your hand and reaching for his.

“I need to get home, Hao. Today has been a lot.”

Minghao nods slowly, a sad smile on his pretty lips. He understands, he really does. But he also misses his happy best friend. Misses the way your eyes crinkle when you smile wholeheartedly , misses the sound of you honest laugh. No matter how many time will pass, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive Jaehyun for what he’s done to you.

Fighting with a french man on the phone at the crack of dawn surely had not been on your agenda for today.

“I’m sorry, miss, but the cancellation period ended two weeks ago, there is nothing we can do.”

It’s too early and you are too tired. He is probably too by now, considering he has been saying this sentence at least five times in the past seven minutes. You pull a hand through your hair and let it drop back onto the mattress after.

“My wedding isn’t happening anymore, and you really won’t let me cancel the honeymoon suite?” Usually, you’d never snap at anyone over the phone - especially custom service personnel, but this is different. What he’s implying means you won’t get any money back from one of the most expensive purchases you’ve made. Worst thing about this: you paid for this yourself. Jaehyun had paid the location - which of course could still be canceled. But the freaking hotel stay in Paris of course was set in stone!

“I am very sorry, miss. I wish there was more that I could do. Perhaps you can take the trip yourself and enjoy our beautiful honeymoon sui-“

You hang up on him. It’s not polite, you’re aware. But just the thought of being alone in the suite you were supposed to enjoy with your freshly baked husband… no, absolutely not. Then, fine, you’d have to live with having spent thousands of dollars on a hotel suite you wouldn’t be able to use.

As if life isn’t horrible enough already.

When you sit at brunch later that day with Minghao and your mutual friend Mingyu, they both stare at you like you’ve just told them you decided to get Jaehyun’s face tattooed on your thigh.

“Are you kidding me? You basically get to have a Paris vacation for free for yourself!” Mingyu says, the glass of mimosa he is holding in his hand is almost spilling with the way he moves his arm. You scoff.

“What do you mean “free”? I literally paid for it months ago!”

“Okay, and did you already make that money back?” Mingyu continues and raises his brow. You stay silent for a moment.

The restaurant Minghao chose is filled with people enjoying the vegan food made from scratch. Your own very delicious avocado toast with a side of fresh fruit and soy-yogurt is laying in front of you, waiting to be eaten. The mimosa Minghao had ordered for you remains untouched.

“She has.” Hao decides to answer for you as he sips from his mug of matcha. You shoot him a glare.

“So what! I’m not going to go to Paris by myself when this was supposed to be my honeymoon!” You try to stay quiet, looking from Minghao to Mingyu and back. Judging by their faces, they don’t seem to understand the big deal.

You envy them. God, how much you wish you could just do it. Go on that already paid for vacation by yourself, not give a single damn about Jaehyun and his new girlfriend. Your heart sinks. Just thinking these words is making you feel like crawling back into bed.

Minghao groans and puts his mug back on the table.

“Y/N,” he starts and his voice sounds more serious than you’ve ever heard him talk before - even Mingyu seems startled, “I get it, okay? I get that he hurt you, that he made you believe in something that was never going to work. He is an asshole, if not the biggest asshole walking freely on this earth. But you’re young! You’re young and you deserve better than this! Keeping to yourself, barely leaving your apartment - your bed, honey, it’s not good for you. I understand that you want to stay away, that the world is a fucking scary place without the person you thought was your person right there next to you,” he grabs your hand over the table, “but do you know what all of this means? That your person is still out there! That you can still find them! And what better place to start than Paris, the literal city of love!”

He means well. Just like the other night after the book signing. He means well and he wants just what’s best for you. No one wants you to feel better as much as he does. Then why does it make you so mad that he is asking this of you? That he is calling you out this way?

You pull your hand away from his and grab your purse from the free chair next to yours. Both men gawk at you, startled.

“Y/N-,” Mingyu tries, but you raise your hand to interrupt him.

“You get it, Hao? Really? Has your significant other of five years also cheated on you with your biggest rival? Did you also have to cancel a wedding you put hours and hours of work and money into? Because I don’t remember this happening to you! So, I would really appreciate it if you gave me the time I need to grieve this relationship and decide for myself when I am ready to get out again!”

Without giving them another look, you storm out of the restaurant. Everything around you is a blurr and you only notice that you’re crying when you reach your car. Cursing to yourself, you move to open your car, tears dripping from your cheeks down onto your shirt. God, what a pathetic little woman. Crying in your car after yelling at your best friends for what? For caring? For only meaning to help?

It takes a while before you manage to start the engine and get on the road to drive home. The radio is silent and for a second you wished you could turn off your brain the same way. Just one switch and all thoughts gone. All the self doubts and the hurt, all the thoughts of what-if and the wish to travel back in time and never have you take his iPad.

You stop at a red light and wipe away some more tears. You don’t dare to look into the mirror and check your make-up.

Never finding the iPad, you circle back, if you had never found it, you wouldn’t be in this situation. No, you’d most likely still be in a relationship with a man that cheated on you. That didn’t love you half as much as he claimed, that didn’t deserve the time and care you’d given him.

When the light turns green, you continue your way, your thoughts still roaming around the what if. And while your heart yearns for him back, for what you believed you had - your head knows it’s better this way. Jaehyun isn’t the one for you, as much as you would have loved him to be, Minghao is right. It’s just that the thought of starting over with someone new makes you cringe, makes fear rise within you. Someone new to give your heart to and hope they don’t break it the way Jae had.

Once you’re on the highway you think back about the time you had decided to travel to Paris for your honeymoon. It had been your idea, your wish. Your first ever book, even if it never made it onto a bestseller list or into the mouths of the best romance critics - it was set in Paris. The city of live, the city you decided would become your favorite even though you had never been. Spending two weeks there with the love of your life after becoming his forever, seriously, nothing had ever sounded as wonderful as that.

Minghao’s words ring in your ear. Your person is still out there, he said. And that Paris, as the city of love, would be the perfect place to go look for them. Your knuckles turn white around the steering wheel. You never wanted to spend time in Paris with anyone but Jaehyun.

Or maybe, you think as you take the exit leading to your neighborhood, the only Person you need to spend time with in Paris is yourself.

two; the lost soul

He never should have listened to Jeonghan. No one should ever listen to Jeonghan. The cab driver is speaking in quick french that Jihoon knows he wouldn’t understand even if he spelled out every word for him. Then again, he isn’t even sure the driver is talking to him or just about him. Jihoon can’t really blame him. After all, he is the stupid American with the stupid big guitar case and a backpack almost bigger than himself.

The backseat is hot and Jihoon’s sunglasses do little to keep the sun from blinding him.

Paris in the summer sounded better on paper than it does actually experiencing it. It’s nothing compared to the summer in Arizona, where Jihoon grew up, but having lived in Vermont for a while now, he wasn’t used to the burning hot, scorching sun that threatened to give him the sunburn of his life if he didn’t re-apply his sunscreen every few hours.

Tara had always laughed at him and his easily burned skin. She never burned, no, she got a tan right away, looking beautiful in the rays of sunshine dazzling on her skin like they belonged there.

Right now, he misses her more than he has in a while. When he passes the beautiful architecture of his first love’s favorite city, he smiles even with the sun shining directly into his eyes.

In all seriousness, Jihoon doesn’t know why he is here. It feels wrong to be here without her, but it also felt like he had to take the invitation from his friend. She would have never forgiven him, if he let this opportunity fly. Visit the city of love, the city she had always dreamt about, he knows as wrong as it feels, it’s the right thing to do.

A few minutes later, the cab stops in front of an old looking building. Without saying anything, the driver takes Jihoon’s Euros and drives off after heaving Jihoon’s suitcase out of his trunk.

Jihoon looks after the car, his dark hair falling into his forehead. Once the cab takes the next corner, he looks at the building, something stirring in his stomach. This… doesn’t look like the pictures on AirBnb at all. Quickly, he fishes his phone out of his pocket, happy he booked the data package at the airport back home. Opening his app, he feels like he’s about to throw up his airplane food.

It’s not there. The apartment is gone from the app, not newly put in under a different name, not just gone because of a glitch. It’s like it never existed. Jihoon curses, moving his fingers over his screen, calling the customer service only to be met with a french speaking automatic voice that doesn’t help him in the slightest.

Hanging up again, he stares at his phone for a few seconds. He shouldn’t have come. It feels too much like a sign. Maybe he should try changing his flight to this evening, maybe he should try to run after that cab and-

The phone in his hands rings and he quickly picks up.

“Hello?”

“Jihoonie!” It’s Jeonghan, the only reason he is in Paris in the first place, “did you make it to the city of love?”

“Yeah, and I wish I didn’t,” Jihoon mumbles in response, brushing his hair out of his face.

“Why? What happened?” Jeonghan does sound concerned, which might be a first.

“My Airbnb doesn’t exist.”

Silence. Jihoon just knows his friend is trying his hardest not to laugh. Oh, to be Yoon Jeonghann and always get entertained by his friends’ miseries.

“Jeonghan, this isn’t funny, okay? I’m about to call another cab and get my ass back home.”

“No! No, you can’t go home! You’re here and I’m going to make sure these will be two of the most amazing weeks of your life, alright? Look, instead of home, get your ass to my hotel. I think I might have a solution for your problem.”

When Jeonghan texts him the address and Jihoon hails another cab, he doesn’t dare to hope that his friend has an actual solution.

Perhaps Jihoon should have asked Jeonghan more thoroughly what kind of Hotel he works at. Because this looks very different to the building Jihoon just left. This is art, this is a fancy hotel in the middle of Paris’ most elegant streets, people in expensive clothes walking around Jihoon who has only a backpack and a guitar on his back. Jihoon gapes at the building, words he has read a million times suddenly filling his head, suddenly coming to life.

The façade of the hotel stands proudly on the bustling Parisian street, an exquisite testament to classical elegance and modern charm. The building’s cream-colored stonework is adorned with intricate carvings and ornate embellishments, each detail meticulously crafted to perfection. Above the entrance, a grand arch frames a large window, its glass shimmering in the soft light of the early evening.

Striped blue-and-white awnings shade the windows, their cheerful colors contrasting beautifully with the building’s stately architecture. Delicate wrought-iron balconies extend from the upper floors, offering glimpses of lush potted plants and inviting chairs, perfect for an intimate evening under the stars.

The entrance is framed by deep blue columns, and a passageway, warm light spills out from within, hinting at the luxurious interior that awaits guests. A pair of elegant lanterns flank the doorway, casting a gentle glow on the stone steps below.

Above the entrance, a crest adorned with elaborate scrollwork and a regal shield stands as a proud emblem of the hotel’s storied history. The name of the hotel is etched in graceful letters, a promise of the enchanting experience that lies within.

He doesn’t dare to move from where he is standing. Doesn’t dare to step foot into the hotel that looks exactly the way he had envisioned the one Tara would always read to him. Goosebumps erupt all over his skin and he swears there are tears threatening to spill out of his eyes. This must be a dream, a different reality, because there is no way Jeonghan works here.

But when Jihoon lets his eyes wander over the façade and into one of the magnificent windows - he spots his friend. Spots him on the phone behind the wooden counter, writing something down. He is here and this is real.

So, Jihoon slowly moves. One foot before the other, eyes glued to the entrance, nis heart beating in his chest. He feels silly, but he wonders if Tara had seen this as clear as he had back when she had read the book to him over and over again.

A welcome warmth meets Jihoon inside. It’s just as beautiful as the outside, he finds, his stomach turning over once more.

The lobby exudes a warm, inviting glow, courtesy of the golden chandeliers that hang from the high ceilings, casting a soft light over the polished marble floors. Rich hues of deep blue and soft gold dominate the color palette, creating a sense of opulence and sophistication. Jeonghan stands behind the mahogany desk, still talking on the phone, still not spotting Jihoon.

Jihoon, who feels so insanely out of place in his worn out jeans and the old leather jacket, with his hair unkempt and his eyebrow pierced. He moves over to the front desk, trying his hardest not to care about the stares he is getting from the people who clearly know he doesn’t actually belong here.

Jeonghan’s eyes light up when he sees him, a wide smile now on his lips as he holds up a finger as if to tell Jihoon to just be a little more patient. Jihoon carefully puts his hands on the top of the counter, his eyes roaming the lobby again.

“Of course, we can’t wait to have you back here again so soon, Miss Jones. Have a great day, bye bye!”

Jihoon’s eyes fly over to Jeonghan again when he hears the phone click.

“You’re actually here!” Jeonghan’s smile grows and he moves forward to give Jihoon probably the most awkward hug of his life over the counter. Jihoon laughs at that, patting his friend on the back.

“Well, it’s either this or the streets,” he smiles, “you never told me how… grant all of this is.” He gestures with his hands, as if to make sure Jeonghan knows he means the hotel. His blonde haired friend chuckles.

“Yeah, I thought it would come off like bragging if I did say so. I never would have heard the end of it from the boys.”

Jihoon nods. He knows exactly what Jeonghan means. Still. He can’t shake the feeling that if he had known about this… his stomach drops again.

“It’s beautiful.” Is all he eventually says, ignoring the worried look of his friend. Jihoon doesn’t know (and Jeonghan will never tell him) but there was a reason he had never mentioned this to him.

“That, it is,” Jeonghan finally responds, wiping the worry off his face and replacing it with a broad smile, “and you will get to live here for the next two weeks!”

“I will what?!” Jihoon’s eyes widen in surprise, “Jeonghan, I can barely pay rent at home, what do you-,”

“Obviously for free, dummy,” Jeonghan chuckles, “we have a free suite that has already been paid for, full price.”

Jihoon raises his brows, his hands feeling damp on top of the fancy counter.

“How come it’s free when it’s fully paid?” He asks.

“Well, there was supposed to be a wedding and…. now there isn’t one. They didn’t meet the requirements for the full or the partial refund. So, it’s free for the next two weeks since we can’t legally double book. You want it?”

It feels a little bit too good to be true, but Jihoon is in no place to turn down Jeonghan’s offer. The little voice in his head is trying to get to him, trying to make him speak the words to himself. It tries to get him to admit that this feels a lot like fate. Like a sign from above, from Tara. He doesn’t let it get to him. He’s not ready for that, and he’s certainly not melancholic enough for thoughts like this - even as a songwriter.

“I do, thank you, Han, I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you right now.”

“Oh, most certainly sleep on the streets. Find a rat for a friend, or maybe a pigeon. They are crazy over here,” Jeonghan sings as he types something in the computer, scanning one of the key cards he takes from the drawer beneath him. Jihoon watches him with his heartbeat in his ears.

“Yeah, never been a big fan of rats. Or pigeons.” Jihoon dares to look around the lobby again, seeing all those people living their life, probably never worried about any of the things he worries about. He wasn’t lying when he said he has trouble paying his rent. Work hasn’t been easy these days.

“Aaaaand, here we go!” Jeonghan grins brightly, “your key, Mr. Lee.” He holds it mid air, pulling it back slightly as Jihoon is trying to grab it. The latter gives him a funny look. Jeonghan pouts as he thinks.

“That rhymes. “Your key, Mr. Lee”.” Jihoon closes his eyes for a second. Jeonghan chuckles happily.

“Watch out, I’m coming for your job.”

“Well, stop it and do yours instead,” Jihoon replies, allowing himself to grin back at his friend and take the card from his hands, “where is this suite you promised me?”

Jeonghan hadn’t mentioned what kind of suite this is. There is nothing Jihoon can do but stare at his surroundings with his mouth and backpack dropped, his guitar slowly sliding down his arm.

He is in the honeymoon suite. In retrospect, it makes sense. Jeonghan did say a wedding had been canceled.

There are three rooms. Right now, Jihoon is standing in the enormous entrance way. Golden and blue like downstairs, with wood accents, a big round table in the center of the room that connected all the different rooms, a centerpiece of flowers as beautiful as a summer day adjoining it. The walls are high and plastered with fine drawing, ornating through all of the hallway and over to the other rooms. Flowers and patterns so elegant Jihoon doesn’t know how to even describe them.

He feels out of place as much as he feels content. Letting his luggage rest on the floor, he moves into the first room. It’s a large sitting room, probably as big as his whole apartment back at home. Two couches of rich dark blue; cushions in different colors, some of them reminding Jihoon of the ocean, some of the sky, rich blues and light blues, and then there is the color of dawn, orange and yellow.

A majestic cremé colored carpet lays beneath the sofas, a glass table standing between them. On top of it magazine stacks and a glass tray holding what looks like whiskey and two glasses. High windows let the sun shine through and Jihoon spots a balcony leading around the living- and bedroom, holding his breath as he imagines himself out there softly strumming his guitar with a glass of whiskey or wine. His heart warms at the thought of finally having peace. Peace in the city his former lover had loved so much.

Next up he walks into the bedroom, a king sized bed greets him with white linen covers and pillows almost as big as his torso. It looks incredibly comfortable and he couldn’t wait to lay down and relax after the day he’s had. Golden curtains sway in the wind let in by an opened window, and the view is so poetic he almost feels himself tear up. Quickly, he looks away and instead finds his way into the master bathroom. It’s all held in gold as well, gold and white for a change, an enormous tub next to a high rain shower behind a glass wall. He sighs.

This is perfect. And he most definitely needs a shower right now.

So, he retraces his steps and grabs his luggage, setting everything down next to the bed and letting his guitar rest in the corner of the room. He decides to actually unpack his backpack that probably doesn’t even hold as much clothes as he probably needs for this trip (he did think he had a washer, though) and places everything in the large closet opposite the bed.

Finding himself humming, Jihoon allows a little bit more of that earlier peace to find place in his head and heart. Perhaps there is no reason for him to be worried - to look for something to go terribly wrong on this trip. Jeonghan is off work by now, and they’ll go catch dinner together, then he’ll come back here and maybe watch a movie, fall asleep to the sound of Paris outside his window. He doesn’t know what it sounds like just yet, but he’s already excited to find out.

Ridding himself of his clothes and feeling another threat of tears when he touches the towels hanging in the bathroom, Jihoon finally lets himself step into the shower and wash all of his worries away.

three; the mix-up

You don’t think your heart has ever beaten as fast as it does when you walk out the Charles de Gaulle airport and right into the arms of the driver Minghao has arranged for you. It’s not about the driver or the airport - but where you are.

Paris, the city of love, the city you feared to visit after what had happened with Jae. Yet, here you stand. Handing the driver your luggage and fishing for your phone in your purse, texting Minghao you already found your driver and are now on the way to the hotel. It all feels surreal and like you’re going to wake up any second.

Minghao forgave you without hesitation. Hugged you close to his chest and cried with you as you told him you were sorry and that he was right. You needed to do this - needed to face your demons. Together, the two of you had finalized the plans, popping open a bottle of expensive champagne and gossiping about Jaehyun and who he left you for. Little by little, you knew, you would find yourself again. And perhaps Paris was the perfect way to start.

The drive from the airport to the hotel was spent staring out the window. First you saw the highway leading from the airport to the city - greenery with trees on each side, all passing by you in a blurr. And then the beautiful streets of Paris. The fine architecture, the elegant bridges over the Seine. Heart warming at the sight of the city you dreamt about so much. Your first ever book had taken place right here, you had let your main characters kiss for the first time right there on that bridge leading from one side of Paris to the other, so close to the Louvre, to the glass pyramid you made them fight and make up all the same, just months apart. The sun is dazzling onto the dark water of the river, light dancing on the surface.

The driver comes to a stop in front of the hotel about 45 minutes after your departure from Charles de Gaulle. He holds open the door for you and helps you out of the car, smiling at you warmly and finally getting your bags out of the trunk. You thank him in some broken French and he nods at you before finding his way back to the driver’s seat.

One of the bell-boys spot you right when you walk in, their English sounding a bit like your French just now. You thank them and hand over your luggage, letting them help you carry it to the mahogany reception.

It is exactly like you remember it. You had never seen it in person, no. But you’ve found this hotel during your research, falling in love with it right away. It was a no-brainer that your honeymoon was to be held here.

You felt overwhelmed at the sight of the colors you had tried so hard to bring to paper, at the sound of soft music in the background, at the knowledge this was real and you were gonna stay here for two whole weeks.

Finally, you reach the counter where a small man stands and smiles up at you, his hair styled back.

“Welcome, how can I help you?” He says in perfect English and you place your hands on top of the counter.

“Hi,” you tell him your name, “I have a reservation.”

The man nods, looking up the reservation and finding it right away. Not marked as checked in, he notes and gives you another big smile.

“It is wonderful to have you, Miss. Will your husband be joining you?”

You expected as much. While it does hurt a little, having to say these next words, you know it’s a step in the right direction.

“I will be staying here alone, thank you.”

It is more beautiful than you could have imagined and it takes you a whole lot not to start crying. Your luggage gets brought up by the nice bell-boys and you thank them by tipping them each 50 Euros. Their smiles make the loss of the money worthwhile.

Once the door closes behind them, you dare to look around. See the beautiful entrance way in all its glory. See the living room in all it’s elegance, the high ceiling and windows, the smaller bedroom with a queen sized bed and a little reading nook, two ceiling high bookshelves standing around a comfortable looking loveseat. This must be what heaven looks like.

There is nothing that can wipe that smile off your face. Everything inside you tingles with happy excitement, moving to go look at the master bedroom with the on-suite bathroom you remembered staring at for at least five minutes when you booked the room. Imagining yourself in the enormous bathtub with a glass of champagne and classical music playing, letting all the stress and hurt from the past months fade away with the notes.

You don’t notice the closet and how there are clothes hanging inside it. Neither do you see the guitar case in the corner of the room. It fascinates you - how your mind tricks you into thinking you already hear the sound of water running, accompanied by humming along to a tune. Magnificent, what the mind can do.

When you finally reach for the doorknob to push it down, yanking the door open in one swift move, you realize perhaps your mind isn’t as magnificent as you thought.

Jihoon doesn’t notice you until you scream. He swirls around, which is inherently a foolish thing to do inside a wet, slippery shower, his eyes widening whe spots you, reacting to your scream by screaming himself. He realizes he’s naked and tries to find something to cover him, taking a step forward to reach for the towel and forgetting there is literally a glass wall separating you two.

Watching the man walk face-first into the glass and stumbling back, slipping on the wet floors and falling onto his ass would have made you laugh if it wasn’t inside your shower.

“What the hell!” You yell, turning around so you don’t look at the naked man any longer.

“Who are you?!” He yells back and you almost gasp.

“I should ask you that!”

The two of you need to yell because Jihoon has not yet managed to turn the shower off. Only now does he (while rubbing his hurting back) get up, struggling in the process, his hand finding the lever to turn off the water. His nose hurts and his ass and his back.

He moves out of the shower without running into glass this time, and wraps one of the soft towels around his waist.

“I’m Jihoon,” he finally says. You think you’re suddenly stuck in a really bad movie.

“That- you’re telling me your name?!” You turn around again, staring at the stranger with disbelief in your eyes.

“You did ask who I was, didn’t you?”

For a few moments the two of you continue to stare at each other. With every passing second you notice just how naked he is. Yes, there is a towel around him now, but you certainly did not… miss what was under there when you first walked in. As much as you don’t want to, your eyes scan the stranger, or well, Jihoon as he told you, stopping at his wet torso, the defined abs and the broad chest. He might be small in height but the rest of him seems… big.

You swallow.

“If you’re done checking me out, would you mind telling me why you’re in my room?”

Heat spreads through your body and right into your face, your eyes jumping from his torso to his face.

“Your room? I’m sorry, this is my room!”

While Jihoon did hit his head, he isn’t hurt enough not to understand that you’re most likely telling the truth. But Jeonghan had said the wedding was off… that you wouldn’t come here. So, why on earth, where you here?

“I- I can explain,” he begins, taking a step forward only for you to take a step backward. He holds out his hand as if to signal he wasn’t going to do anything.

“Go right ahead,” you hate that your voice is shaking, but it’s not like it is an everyday occurrence you find a beautiful stranger in your hotel room. If this wasn’t your actual life but a book this might have been sexy, might have led to the bed behind you finding the two strangers entangled, giving in to the sexual tension between them. Not that there was any of that in this situation.

“My friend, Jeonghan, he- he works here. He told me this suite wouldn’t be used and so I- well he asked me if I wanted to stay here for my trip after I told him my airbnb didn’t actually exist and I needed a, uh, a place to stay.”

You blink at him.

“He just- he gave you my honeymoon suite for free?

Jihoon swallows.

“Well…,” he thinks a little longer on his answer, “yes. Yes, he did.”

Telling the truth is probably his best bet.

You take a deep breath, turning away from him, clenching and unclenching your hands.

“As you can see, I am here. So, please, find somewhere else to stay.”

Jihoon saw it coming, obviously. It was all too good to be true. Without saying anything else, he walks over to the closet, ready to dress himself. Just that he didn’t quite calculate the new luggage now laying in front of the bed.

It all seems to happen in slow motion.

Jihoon tripping over your suitcase, his hands desperate trying to find something to hold on to before he falls. As if on reflex, you grab his arm, yanking him up so he doesn’t fall flatly on his face, just that you somehow manage to yank him so hard, you fall off balance. With a high pitched squeak, you fall onto the bed, Jihoon landing on top of you, his towel falling off in the process of the fall and save.

A naked man is on top of you, brown eyes wide with shock staring into yours. His hands somehow moved right to the sides of your head as if to catch himself from falling even further on top of you.

You can feel him. Feel his breath on your face, his skin on yours, his friend against your thigh. More heat rises, your face, your neck, your chest, your core. It’s bad. This shouldn’t be happening right now.

The two of you are so engulfed in the moment, you don’t even realize when the door opens yet again. When voices you would normally recognize without trouble seem to fail your ears this time. Jihoon’s face so close to yours - way too distracting.

“What the fuck?!”

Realization hits you at the same time as recognition and you gasp, your knee coming up, right into Jihoon’s lower parts, a yelp escaping him as he slides off the bed, hands now covering his private area and his face in a grimace of sheer pain.

You don’t even notice it. Not really, at least. Now it’s not his face that’s distracting you but the one you used to love for so many years.

“Jaehyun?” You whisper. And for a second you think he came here to make amends, to win you back, to get on his knees and apologize - then you spot her walking in, her eyes scanning the room with distaste.

“Who is that?” Jaehyun asks and you feel your blood boil.

“What are you doing here?” You ignore his question. He isn’t looking at you, but at Jihoon still on the floor.

“Oh, well, you know. We thought that it would be such a waste to let this suite go to waste,” it is her who answers you now, her deep red manicured hands now curling around Jaehyun’s biceps.

This bitch. Your blood starts boiling. Anger makes you see red.

“You brought her here?” You hiss at Jaehyun who has the decency to look guilty at least. You snort. Then, your eyes find Jihoon who’s still on the ground, Jihoon who is still naked. Jihoon, who desperately needs a place to stay.

God knows what makes you do what you do next. Desperation? Foolery? Who knows. But you move to help Jihoon up, grabbing the towel and holding it in front of his lower half.

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

“I see that we both had the idea to bring our new partners, or in your case old partner, to the suite we booked together, Jae. But since I was the one who paid for it, I would kindly ask you to leave.”

New partner. Jihoon needs a few seconds before he grasps what you just said.

“New- new what?” He mumbles, but you clear your throat to drown out his voice. Jaehyun’s face is priceless and you don’t want the bluff to be uncovered so quickly.

“That is your new boyfriend?” She asks, her brows raised. You can see that she’s checking him out - his abs, his cest, his pretty face. It makes your insides turn with hatred and disgust.

“Got a problem, Sierra?” You reply, your jaw tense. Her eyes only briefly meet yours.

“Oh, absolutely not. I’m glad to see you finally got out of that moping phase, honey. It really didn’t suit you.”

Your grip around the towel tightens.

Slowly, Jihoon begins to understand what is going on. Who these people are. There was supposed to be a wedding and a honeymoon, but neither of these happened. You are the bride, or well, were supposed to be the bride. And he, the man you called Jaehyun and who had caused all the color to fade from your face, surely seems to be the groom who… never got to be the groom. And judging by the way you reacted to him and her, he guesses the reason the wedding didn’t happen was… the woman you’d called Sierra.

Blinking a few times, Jihoon realized that you were trying to convince him that he was your new boyfriend. That you had brought him here, to this hotel. It was ridiculous and straight out of a bad movie, but somehow… even if he didn’t know you, he felt like he should help you. And so, he let his arm wrap around your waist, catching you by surprise.

“I would kindly ask you to leave us be. You have done enough.”

Your head swirled to look at the man next to you. His stern face and his wet hair. Drops of water sliding down the side of his neck.

“How long has this been going on?” Jaehyun asks, ignoring Jihoon’s request. You turn to look at him again.

“That’s none of your business. You heard him, Jae. Leave. This isn’t your room anymore.”

Another beat of silence falls between the four of you. You try your best to ignore Sierra and cling onto Jihoon’s hand like it was the only saving grace. Perhaps that was true. Holding Jae’s gaze and trying to calm down your hurting heart, your wishes to throw something at him.

“Fine. I heard the honeymoon suite in the Hilton is much nicer than this one, baby.”

It is then that you see it. The rings on her finger. Your stomach drops. He married her. Oh, you’re about to throw up. Jihoon seems to notice your change of emotions, quickly clearing his throat.

“Great. Have fun in Paris then.”

He carefully takes the towel from your hand, wrapping it around him fully again. Then, he looks at you. The overwhelming urge to give you a hug is almost unbearable.

“Maybe,” Jaehyun said, “since we are both seeing other people and have moved on - we could grab dinner sometime this week. All of us.”

Jihoon sees the way your eyes shake at the suggestion. And he is just about to say no, that that’s not a good idea, when you push your shoulder back and hold your head high.

“What a lovely idea. We’d love to, isn’t that right, baby?” You interlock your fingers with Jihoon’s and he stares at you for just a second, before nodding.

“Sure,” he breathes out, looking at Jaehyun and Sierra.

It most certainly isn’t a lovely idea, he is well aware of that. This whole thing isn’t a good idea. But here he is. Holding the hand of a woman he barely met twenty minutes ago. A woman who has seen him naked, a woman who had his half hard cock against the inside of her thigh. A woman he had been closer to than any other in the last five years.

No, this wasn’t a good idea. This was an awful, horrible idea that could only go so, so wrong.

237 notes · View notes

forest-hashira · 6 months ago

Text

Birds of a Feather

happy pride everyone! finally some explicitly queer content (even tho nothing i write is cishet in my mind). another coming out fic. idc if it's cliche, it's a big deal for our girl and i'm very proud of her ok? also you legally have to be nice to me and her this whole month bc it's pride. also, this is my entry for @dearbraus's "blooming into you" collab! be sure to check out the rest of the masterlist 💜

series masterlist | read on ao3 | wc: ~2.4k | cw: gender neutral reader, transfem gojo, coming out, fluff, super light angst (she's nervous to come out), gumi's in this one!, hints of parental gojo/mentions of gojo raising megumi, megumi is a trans man in this au

Satoru continued to grow her hair out after you first trimmed her undercut, continued painting her nails, and wore her clear lip gloss to the school more days than not. She seemed content with things as they were – and if she was content, you were content – but when her hair got long enough for you to braid out of her face, she decided it was time to take another step in her transition.

“Don’t you think it’s time I told someone else about… well. About me, I guess,” she asked one evening while you were in the kitchen.

The question caught you off guard, and you finished setting up the rice cooker before turning to face her. She was avoiding your gaze, instead staring down at her nails; her polish was starting to chip a bit, and you’d been trying to break her of the habit of picking it off when it would chip.

“That’s not really my decision,” you responded gently, watching her closely. “Are you ready to tell anyone else?”

She hesitated, still not meeting your gaze. “I think people are starting to notice anyway.” Her words were so soft you nearly missed them, but the anxiety that permeated her words broke your heart.

“What makes you think that?” You stepped closer, crossing the room and taking her hands into your own when you noticed her start to pick at her nail polish. The odds that anyone had been cruel to her were low, but it didn’t ease the surge of protectiveness that flared in your chest.

“Nobara,” she said quietly. “She mentioned my hair, and my nails.”

Your brows furrowed; of course it was Nobara who said something first. “What did she say about them?”

A shrug. “Nothing in particular, really. Just pointed them out. She’s mentioned my nails a couple times.”

“Didn’t you say Yuji really liked your nails the first time Nobara pointed them out?” The smile Satoru had worn when sharing that piece of information with you a few weeks back had been so sweet, bashful but excited, nearly giddy that someone else liked the small changes she was making to her appearance.

“…Yeah,” she agreed, the corner of her lips twitching slightly. “He did. He had Nobara paint his nails after classes that day.”

A smile tugged at your own lips then, and you gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “See? Your students don’t think poorly of you for any of the changes you’ve already made. You don’t have to take any steps you’re not ready for yet.”

Finally, she looked up from her hands and met your gaze, managing a small and still slightly nervous smile. “I think… I think I am ready to tell someone else, though. I think it’ll help me feel better about all of this.”

You gave a small nod. “Alright, ‘Toru. If you’re really ready, I’ve got your back. Do you know who you want to tell?”

Her smile faltered slightly, but it didn’t disappear entirely. “Not really,” she admitted with a sigh. “I know I’ll tell everyone eventually, somehow, but it feels…” Satoru trailed off for a moment, and you could tell from her expression that she was trying to find the right words. “I dunno, just feels odd to rank how important people are to me, y’know?”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” you assured her. Another moment of silence passed as you considered the best way to reframe it for her, hopefully make it easier for her to decide who to tell first. “Well, think about it this way: this isn’t about how important each person is to you, at least not for what order you tell them in. This is about who you’re comfortable confiding in, or who you’re comfortable being open with. It’s about you, princess, not everyone else.”

Something in your girlfriend’s expression shifted as you spoke, almost like it was clicking for her, and you watched some of the tension bleed from her shoulders. “Yeah,” she agreed, smiling a bit brighter again. “Yeah, this is about me. You’re right.”

Seeing her more at ease had you smiling a bit brighter, too, and you squeezed her hands again. “Can I make a suggestion about who to tell?” you asked. “You can say no, of course. This is a big step forward, and I don’t want you to feel like I’m trying to make the decision for you.”

“No, it’s okay, go ahead,” Satoru said. “I still don’t have anyone in mind, so I’m open to suggestions.” Her expression was earnest as she looked down at you, all of her attention focused on you.

“I think Megumi would be a good choice.”

The suggestion seemed to catch her off guard, and she blinked a few times before she spoke again. “Really?” she asked. “Why Gumi?”

“‘Cause he’s trans, too, remember?” you reminded, still smiling gently up at her. “He’ll understand.”

“Oh, yeah.” A fierce blush spread across her face almost faster than you could process, and you couldn’t help but giggle softly at her. It honestly didn’t surprise you that she had sort of forgotten about that detail of Megumi’s gender; it’s not like it was something that was discussed frequently between them, since Megumi was already presenting as a boy when Satoru first met him, and the revelation of him being trans didn’t come along until the boy started puberty. Megumi had always just been Megumi, and nobody that mattered had ever treated him any differently because he was trans. You knew that the boy would think the same of Satoru, and that he would even likely be one of Satoru’s fiercest advocates after he learned of this development.

“I think I will tell Gumi first,” Satoru said after a few moments. “Like you said, he’ll get it, and I think… I think that understanding is what I need to start with.”

“I’m really proud of you for recognizing that, ‘Toru,” you told her with a grin. This process hadn’t been all that easy on her, so being able to identify and verbalize her needs herself was a good sign.

As impossible as it should have been, she seemed to blush even more at your words, the red now stretching from the tips of her ears all the way down her neck, and all you could think was how much it made her eyes pop. Unable to resist, you pushed in closer, pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before settling back into your former spot.

“You want some more time to think about how you wanna tell him?” you asked curiously, thumbs rubbing over her knuckles absentmindedly. You were a bit surprised when she shook her head, though.

“No,” she said softly. “If I think about it for too long I might talk myself out of it. I’ll tell him tomorrow after class.”

“Would you like me to be there with you when you tell him? For moral support?”

“...Yeah,” Satoru whispered. “Yeah, I would.”

“I’ll be there, then.”

The beep that indicated that the rice cooker was finished nearly made you both jump, but you just chuckled softly. “Alright, princess, we’ll figure everything else out later. For now, let’s eat.”

Just as you promised, you went to the school with lunch for yourself and Satoru, knowing that the break between classes and training was when your girlfriend was planning to speak to Megumi and share her life update. You arrived just as Satoru was finishing her lesson, and waited patiently outside the door, not wanting to interrupt at all. When the door slid open a couple minutes later, you took a half step back to give the students a bit more room to leave. You smiled at them as you saw them.

“Hi Nobara-chan, Yuji-kun. It’s good to see you,” you greeted as they passed you, but you reached out to catch Megumi before he could slip away. “Megumi, could you come back in with me for a moment?”

The boy paused when he felt your hand on his arm, and his brows furrowed slightly when you used his full name, rather than a nickname like you tended to do, since you’d known him so long; if you used his full name, it meant something serious was happening. “Yeah, of course.” He looked up when Yuji called out to him, and he quickly waved his classmates off, promising to catch up with them soon.

A slight sense of relief washed over you as Megumi agreed to come with you without any argument; he wasn’t as combative as he’d been when he was younger, but it was still nice when he didn’t make a fuss. The two of you stepped back into the classroom, where Satoru sat at her desk. She brightened a bit when she saw you and stood from her chair, though when she saw Megumi right behind you, it seemed to hit her all over again what was about to happen.

“Hi, ‘Toru,” you greeted, sliding the door to the classroom shut once Megumi was fully in the room with you. The action seemed to make him a little apprehensive, but he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t make to leave, either, which was another relief to you, and, you assumed, to Satoru.

Your girlfriend murmured a small greeting in return as you stepped closer, and allowed you to tug her around the front of the desk without fuss. She held tight to your hand as she came to stand beside you, though, and you could feel the faintest tremor in her grip.

“Is something wrong?” Megumi asked, glancing between the two of you, though his gaze lingered on Satoru a bit more; his teacher was rarely this quiet, so it was a definite sign that whatever this conversation was about, it was serious.

“No,” you answered right away, wanting to ease any nerves the boy might have. “Nothing’s wrong. Satoru has something to tell you, that’s all.”

You looked up at your partner then, offering her a soft smile when she looked back down at you, and when she seemed to hesitate, you squeezed her hand, silently encouraging her to share her news; you couldn’t do this for her, even if you hated how nervous she was about doing it herself.

She gave you a tiny nod, taking a deep breath and turning back to look at Megumi. “Well… I know you’ve noticed some changes with me recently,” she started. “Nobara was pretty insistent on pointing out my nails, and how my hair is growing out now.” With that, she pulled her blindfold down, allowing her hair to fall into her face completely for a moment before she ran her fingers through it, tugging lightly on it in a self-soothing motion. Despite the fact that her eyes were no longer covered, she still wasn’t quite making eye contact with the boy she’d spent the last ten years raising.

Megumi nodded at Satoru’s words, though he said nothing, clearly not wanting to interrupt and throw his sensei off from whatever it was Satoru was trying to tell him.

The snowy haired sorcerer let out a shaky breath before she continued. “Before I started painting my nails, or intentionally growing my hair out, or anything like that, I did some reflecting, and I… I realized that I’m not, uh. I’m not—”

You frowned when she got a bit choked up, and you squeezed her hand again, leaning in a bit and resting your head on her arm in silent support. The touch seemed to punch a small gasp from her, but it was enough to let her take a steadying breath and keep going, to let her finish what she started without fully breaking down in the middle.

“I realized that I’m not a man. I never have been, I just… didn’t have the words to explain it. Or the option to even consider it, really.” A small, almost bitter laugh escaped her then, but she shook her head slightly, likely pushing any of the lingering negative feelings aside.

Finally, she met Megumi’s steady gaze. “I’m still me,” she said. “I’m just… not a man. I’m a woman.” She shrugged slightly when she finished, and it wasn’t long before she dropped his gaze again.

The boy was silent for a few long moments, his expression unreadable as he nodded again, but when he finally spoke, you could feel the tension bleed from your girlfriend’s frame. “Do you still want me to call you Gojo-Sensei?”

Satoru’s head shot up at the question, her expression brightening. “Yeah,” she laughed softly. “Yeah, that’s fine. I like my name, I don’t plan on changing it.” She hesitated for a moment, unsure, then asked, voice small, “Can I give you a hug?”

The blush that dusted Megumi’s face at the question was endearing, and it made you smile, especially when he mumbled that yes, a hug was fine. Satoru was quick to release your hand and close the distance between herself and her ward, wrapping her arms tightly around him.

“Thanks, Gumi,” she whispered, face half buried in his hair.

His arms came up to wrap around her in return. “Just tell me when I can start correcting people about your pronouns and everything,” he replied. He peeked at you around his teacher’s arm, and you could see a faint smile tugging at his lips.

“You gonna get into fights defending me?” the sorceress asked, somewhat teasingly; given Megumi’s violent streak in middle school, it wasn’t entirely impossible.

“If I have to, yeah. Nobody’s getting away with that shit on my watch.”

She let out a choked half-laugh, half-sob at his words, and squeezed him a bit tighter. “I love you, Gumi.”

The words caught both you and Megumi off guard, his face going an even deeper shade of red; Satoru hadn’t said those words to the boy since he was little, probably because he’d been resistant to the sentiment – understandably so, after everything he’d gone through so early in his life.

This time, though, he didn’t try to squirm away from the affection, or deflect or ignore what had been said to him. Instead, he squeezed Satoru a bit tighter, and whispered something that sounded an awful lot like “Love you, too.”

i'm an animal rn apparently sorry guys. i've finished 3 fics in 8 days (even tho i've spaced out posting them here). i hope you're enjoying my insanity at least AHAHA. also peep the new divider!!! i'll be using it going forward bc it's cute and is perfect for this series 💜

taglist: @mitsuristoleme @redlikerozez @dr-runs-with-scissors @teddybeartoji @gods-landing @dearbraus (sign up for my taglist here!)

dividers by cafekitsune

#fallon's fics #transfem gojo #trans gojo #trans gojo satoru #gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk fluff #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk reader insert

90 notes · View notes

ultrainfinitepit · 21 days ago

Text

Seasons greetings followers, it's time for the December update.

New Items

First and foremost, I'm happy to share that the Pride Angels leftovers are now available. There's lots of new pins, stickers, and keychains from the campaign listed on Shopify and Etsy.

That's not all: in advance of my Themed Monster Enamel Pins campaign next year, I made one design from each of the sets to test the colors: Cyberpunk Medusa, Priest Angel, Rococo Angel, Victorian Angel, and Werewolf Plague Doctor. If these sell out you can pledge for more in the campaign, along with their companions - though please note the colors may change a little batch-to-batch.

For those of you who prefer to purchase from my stockists, these items will be sent to them as well but you will have to wait longer for them to be listed and available. Guest artist designs have been sent to their respective artists, you can find them in their stores soon, or message them to purchase.

If you're looking for a fun way to display your new pins, check out one of the many pin hoops that are now listed. If you want some pins at a discount, I've updated the as-is display pins listing.

Holiday Sale and Closure

To celebrate the holidays, I am running a very short sale on all older items: 15% off on Shopify (discount applied at checkout) and 10% off on Etsy. I will be closing my shop for the year December 8 at 10AM PST, be sure to get your orders in before then. Slow-selling or low stock items may be removed over the holidays, so if you've had an eye on anything now is the time to grab it.

I have no set date for when my shop will reopen but I anticipate it will be sometime January-March 2025.

Pinconvention

While my shop is closed, you can find many of my items with my stockists. For a limited time December 4-9, a few of my pins will be available from Pinconvention as well. Pinconvention is based in Hamburg, Germany and is the only way for buyers in Germany and France to get my pins.

Shipping Restrictions for EU/Northern Ireland

Speaking of countries in Europe: if you haven't heard already, the EU and Northern Ireland will be enforcing a GPSR regulation starting December 13. You can read more about it in this Etsy article. There's been a lot of discussion in the seller community about what these restrictions mean for US to EU shipping. At the moment I'm going to tentatively continue to allow shipping to the EU and Northern Ireland, but I can't guarantee it will be allowed forever. So if you have your eye on anything in my shop or others, it might be wise to purchase soon. In the event I have to discontinue shipping to these destinations, you may be able to purchase from my stockists, or use a mail forwarding service.

Plans for 2025

That's all for 2024, let's look ahead to next year:

I have some pin designs in my drafts I hope to finish up. This includes: the Angelic Hierarchy set, pins for each BG3 companion's good and bad endings, Dungeons and Dragons pins, some original character designs, and fanart pins including for Dune and Ghibli.

I will be running the Themed Monsters Enamel Pins campaign in March 2025; and collaborating with HoloRaindrops to offer a pair of cross-collab pins to backers who pledge to both of our campaigns. If I can finish up those pins I just mentioned in time for this campaign, they will be available as addons/preorders.

I am planning to make variants of the most popular Pride Angels pins for June (Pride Month) next year.

Other than that, I don't have many pin plans for 2025. I am open to making new variants of previous designs if there's sufficient interest. If you have an idea you can submit it here (and consult my pin catalog here), feel free to share with your friends. I won't be giving up pin making, but I definitely want to slow down on it - I wrote a little about why on Tumblr if you're curious.

And I may slow down my shop updates to every other month as well. As much as I love making new items every month, it's been hard to keep up the pace. I hope you'll stick around to see what I make even with less frequent releases.

That's all for this update, have a wonderful winter holiday!

#shop stuff #shop news #pride angels

50 notes · View notes

mr-walkingrainbow · 5 months ago

Text

Hey Anxienn fans!!!! I gotta lil treat for you!!!!

SO! Remember how I mentioned I was writing some Anxiety x Ennui fics?

well one of them is done!!!!

I have the wonderful honor to be doing a collab with the one and only @hootbon ! Their going to be lending some wonderful art skills while I provide the fanfic!!!

Currently the fanfic is finished!!!! However me and Hooty are still ironing out some of the details! So it will be a little bit before it’s published, BUT! I didn’t want to leave you guys hanging with nothing, so here I offer you a humble little sneak peak of, ABC’s it’s easy as a Une, Deux, Trois?

(also ps. I’m still working on the Jealous! Ennui fic, but that one’s not a collab so as soon as I’m done with it I can post!!!!)

Sneak peek below!

Ennui shrugged, looking away. She knew what Anxiety was talking about.

For the past few months, Anxiety had been pestering her to let her teach her how to read and write in English.

It wasn’t necessarily surprising that she didn’t know how. She was French after all. But the other emotions just sorta assumed she knew, since she spoke the language.

Embarrassment and Envy knew of her little secret. They had all grown close together in the waiting rooms for years on end. And they never needed to learn how to read and write English down there. Ennui had her phone, which translated everything she could want. And nothing ever depended on her comprehension.

However, they finally made it to headquarters. Riley’s mind making room for new emotions and feelings.

With all of the commotion and adjustment, Ennui’s lack of knowledge was forgotten.

Until one fateful day where she was manning the console alone. A history class with a teach with voice more monotone then her own.

She had been frozen. Unsure on what to do. Her translator app on her phone wasn’t working. And Riley had been tasked with doing a history packet. A packet full of words Ennui would not understand nor interpret.

She had no idea on whether an emotion was needed or not. And she must have stood there for twenty minutes, useless to help. Which normally she’d be happy with. Able to goof off and lounge around.

But Riley was directly relying on her. She may relish being lazy, but never at the expense of their girl.

She was stuck, pride stopping her from asking for help. Which again, is ironic considering normally she’d do anything to get out of doing more work.

But this? This was different. This was a lack of knowledge everyone else knew. It made her feel…. Lesser.

Thankfully Anxiety had walked across. Casually joining her. Ennui’s face had burned, too ashamed to explain why she was just standing there.

Anxiety looked on, back and forth between the screen and her girlfriend. Realization finally hitting her in a silent ‘O’.

She didn’t say anything else. Just casually read what was on screen. Translating without calling her out.

Ennui had never been more grateful. And definitely made it up to her later, in a more private way, if you catch her drift.

And there you go!!! I hope you liked the sneak peek and stay tuned for further updates!!! ❤️❤️❤️

59 notes · View notes

goodlucksnez · 7 months ago

Text

So after listening to Zen's Wav, I had a idea to continue. So I gathered some friends and we continued the story with a little nod to @instarsandcrime as well!

So enjoy the continuation!

Al//astor: @onetrickponi

Lu//cifer: @zensations35

V//ox: @goodlucksnez

See below for script!

Alastor: Ah! The man of the hour! Just the person I was hoping to encounter…Now then. Time for a little r̴̈e̷͋g̵͛i̷͊c̷̉ǐ̵d̷̃ë̴́

Lucifer: Oh no…*sneeze* Not you again. What is it this time?

Alastor: As it turns out, sire, not only do you bestow hellish grace upon your subjects, but pestilence as well! ’Allergies.’ Hah! I should have known.

Lucifer: Well if someone hadn’t insisted I come on their show with only two days notice!

Alastor: Aha-hA! If someone would answer their phone more than once a month, your nibs–

*Lucifer sneezes*

Alastor: Well. Glad to see your smoky sternutations aren’t exclusive to my studio, at least. Goodness, I do hope this wallpaper is flame-resistant.*ṣ̶͐n̸̺͐ḙ̸̽e̸̲͂z̸̩͋i̷̠͐n̴̨̊g̸̩̿* Pardon.

Lucifer: Hey! Don’t bust out my lights! I’m working on an important project!

Alastor: And now no one has to see it! Pity. :)

*Voxtech Show Theme Plays*

Vox: Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most electrifying news show in the multiverse! I’m your host, Vox, and I’m here to deliver the latest headlines with a dash of charisma, a sprinkle of wit, and a whole lot of tea *clinking cup* *cup falls*

Vox: *ignoring fallen cup* Tonight on our program we will go over the most recent broadcast from the King of Hell and the less important interviewer *cackle*

Vox: Ahh how good it feels in my studio! I must say our brand is perfection, it just won't do for anything Less. Than. That. *snigger*

Vox: Unlike a certain old tyrant my studio is made for the highest of royalty. So if any princes or kings want a real experience, come down to Vees tower and I would love to give you a personalized tour from the Man in Charge.

Alastor: *sneezing* Pompous, vicious little prick…

Lucifer: Ugh.. *sniff* I hate that guy…”Man in Charge”? And they call me prideful??

Vox: I mean really you just walk in, and it’s chaos. Papers everywhere, coffee stains on the desk, *laugh* it isn't even in a proper studio but an old water tower! Talk about tacky. Unprofessional, if you ask me. But here? Every cable is tucked away, every surface polished--

[Vox continues his spiel while Alastor sneezes]

Alastor: *sneezing*

Vox:-- to a mirror sheen. We believe in excellence, not just in our content but in our environment, that that is what VoxTex is here to provide you. So, when you tune in to our show, rest assured, you’re getting the crème de la crème. Quality, class, and cleanliness–

Alastor: That isn’t even properly alliterative…

Lucifer: Are you kidding me? His place is a walking fire hazard! Or, not walking. Standing? But I know fire hazards! Man, I wish I could just…*sneezes*

Alastor: HaHAh!…Well, then I’m sure you will appreciate this next bit, Sire.

Vox: *sniffling* *sneezing* I must apologize, my dear viewers *sneezing* but it seems that even the most prepared among us can be caught off guard. It appears I’m having a bit of a g̶͎͑-̵̓ͅg̵̪̑-̷̖͠G̴̥͒L̶̟̈I̷͈͑T̵̀͜C̸̣͝H̸̖͒—nothing serious, but we believe in safety first here at Vox industries.

*Vox continues sneezing throughout his spiel*

Vox: We’re all about transparency and this is as real as it gets. Fucking bitch! I’m going to step off for a moment to take care of this, and in the meantime, we’ll be ending today’s broadcast a tad earlier than scheduled. FuckI’mgonnafuckingkillhim--Our team is top-notch, and they’ll ensure everything is handled with the utmost professionalism. Thank you for your understanding. We’ll be back on air tomorrow, bright and shiny as ever, ready to bring you the stellar content you love.

Vox: Cut it! That fucking bitch, I know this is his doing I’m gonna kill him!!

Alastor: *sneezing* *laughing*

Lucifer: Hoh yeah! Highfive!

Alastor: I beg your pardon?

Lucifer: You…you just take your hand and…uhh…*high five sound*

Alastor: Mmm I suppose. But don’t make a habit out of this, sire.

Lucifer: Eheh…okay…

75 notes · View notes

yousaydisco · 2 months ago

Text

Artist!Harry AU

Another fanfic that I planned out MANY MONTHS AGO and I'm 90% sure I'm never going to fully write

(content warning for depictions of violence)

AU where Harry, at the urging from Dora, quits being a gym teacher and attempts to join the RCM but for whatever reason - maybe he was already struggling with addiction at this point, or maybe he didn't want to join the RCM and deliberately made himself seem unfit for duty, and is rejected from joining the ranks. As a result of the rejection, Dora leaves him at this point and it breaks Harry, either causing him to go further into his addictions or develop them now.

After falling down that hole he attempts to pick himself back up by making art.

After making art for years (a mixture of mediums - paint on canvas, graffito, the rare photographs, making statues out of bottles, etc) and developing a cult following but not a reliable income, he has FINALLY secured a spot in a gallery to showcase his best work. Something that really showcases Revacholian Pride. Unfortunately, in the week of the gallery opening, there is a murder.

Kim, a lieutenant still at the 57th, is sent to investigate the crime and Harry, who is INCREDIBLY eager to get it solved so he can showcase his work and also has the inability to keep his nose out of other people's business, worms his way into helping him. Or he tries, at least, since Kim very much doesn't want to let a 1) a civilian and 2) an active suspect, be a participate in the solving of the crime.

They don't really hit it off at first and not JUST because Harry is trying to do Kim's job - Harry is abrasive, and kind of unsettling, and Kim doesn't care for off-the-wall art like that, but Harry very early on proves himself useful by getting information out of witnesses that Kim knows he couldn't have. Plus Harry knows the area and people very well AND he does end up having an alibi for the night of the murder so Kim, rather reluctantly at first, lets Harry help him. Initially it's just with talking to witnesses but he continues to be impressive so Kim just. Keeps working with him.

Unofficially, of course. It's all under the record.

THE CASE: A woman was found in the back alley that connects to the exit of the art gallery. The cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head, but the weird thing was that her hands were severed from the body post-mortem. She was an active artist in the area and had a lot of connections to basically everyone there, including Harry, who she once rejected his proposal to collab on a piece together.

Her specialty was photography and she was going to have a few pieces in the same exhibition that Harry was. She made a photography collage of the hands of various working class people of the area, black and white but she hand painted select colors back onto the cells (specifically red/pinks whenever they show up, like bloody knuckles or capillaries).

The reason that Harry wanted to work with her is because she got an offer to be in the exhibit WAY before he did, and she refused to give him a reason for why she didn't want to collaborate, which is how he was initially a prime suspect.

Harry's alibi is that he was working that night at a local bar which serves as his "real job" (though he doesn't like the term). But he was there all night, multiple co-workers and customers saw him, so: solid alibi.

Harry is like. A natural at a lot of the police work. So much of it comes easy for him. He cites his love of Dick Mullen novels and often during the case he needs to "get into character" and "go method" which Kim finds kind of annoying but holy shit the results cannot be ignored.

Scene: Harry tells Kim that he needs to investigate the apartment of a rival artist, one he doesn't get along with at all, and he doesn't really explain why since his Skills told him they need to. Kim gives a noncommittal answer, because it just sounds like Harry wants to make his enemy a suspect, and he ends up not having the time to check it out anyway. The next day Harry calls him on Kim's personal number - something that Kim rarely gives out for investigations - and continues to press the importance of it. He implies/outright says he will break in himself if Kim doesn't do it the legal way and Kim just. Sighs and agrees to prevent another crime from happening.

When Kim gets there the door is open and no one is there, and when he enters he sees blood all over the carpet but no body, murder weapon, or hands.

Harry gets taken in for questioning, of course, but he's more pleased than angry. Pleased that his gut was correct and he knew what he was talking about. They hold him for the maximum time they can but since they don't actually believe he did anything or have evidence don't arrest him, and all Harry really says is how he doesn't think the rival artist is the murderer and he firmly believes something else is afoot. Very strange, since if the rival artist DID do it, everything is better for Harry.

(This is also where I imagine putting Jean in the story and I think he questioned Harry. They don't know each other but Jean is like, being an asshole to push Harry to confessing something and Harry kind of takes it in stride, but then Jean targets his substance abuse issues and then they start arguing. Harry has enough composure to not punch him, which disappoints Jean since he was trying to like. Force a way to arrest Harry. Doesn't succeed.)

Kim is intrigued by Harry's assurance that the rival artist didn't do it so he investigates this angle right away. Sure enough, the rival artist hasn't been in the country for a week and he came back in with TECHNICALLY enough time to have committed the murder, but it would be incredibly difficult to do so. Kim agrees with Harry that he was likely being framed here.

(Later Harry calls Kim and is like 'WOW I KNEW HE DIDN'T DO IT!' and Kim is like how did you find that out? And Harry just says something cryptic and weird. Probably like "the wind told me." And Kim rolls his eyes and mutters artists.)

After this point Kim tells Harry that he is hiring him onto the case officially as a civilian consultant. Something he has no real authority to do, but Harry is ecstatic anyway.

During the case Harry digs through the dumpster that belongs to the entire apartment complex that she lived in and finds a positive pregnancy test, uncollected and untagged, and he says with certainty that it belonged to the victim. Kim then informs him that the victim was indeed 4 weeks pregnant.

They dig through the gallery archives together and discover that the murdered woman has only ever worked with ONE artist before: Stan Ickloski (a pen name that doesn't help them find the real man). She was a model for his photographs and he has a dedicated cult following with select artists but isn't well known or well received. Even Harry doesn't know who he is.

Also: Harry gets distracted and discovers a new color. Almost everyone who sees it comments that it's rather ugly, except Kim, who initially doesn't comment on it at all and then later will say it's warming up on him. Harry decides to call the color Ambrosius.

The case culminates when they are having a quiet moment talking about art back at the gallery. It's touching - Harry shares information about himself, his struggles, and how he tries to stay strong and Kim cracks himself open and shares some stuff about his childhood and says something sweet like "maybe all this modern art isn't so bad." Eventually Kim steps away to have his cigarette and Harry wants to look at the murdered woman's photographs some more, convinced that they will "say something to him" (Kim thinks its metaphorical but Harry is being very literal)

While Harry is alone looking at the photographs hung in the gallery (at this point the showcase is the next day, hasn't been cancelled, and her photographs are hung with 'in memoriam' under them) and a man stands next to Harry. They start talking, and it turns into the man ranting, and Harry and the audience quickly figure out that this is Stan Ickloski.

Big dramatic conversation where Harry tries to get him to keep talking and explain his whole thing but he fumbles a check and Stan gets really pissed and stabs Harry. But hey! This finally causes Kim to arrive on the scene and arrest him! Harry isn't even pissed about being stabbed he's like "I survived and also caught a killer! All by myself! This cop shit isn't so hard after all!"

(While he was confessing Stan admits that he he was in love with her, she didn't love him but instead was secretly in a relationship with the rival artist and he was the father, and he took her hands as a final fuck you to her. Harry nods his head and just says to Kim "this guy is majorly fucked up, Kim.")

Even though Harry doesn't care about being stabbed Kim cares VERY MUCH and this is where he will realize that like. Hey he might love this crazy weird artist man. Probably shouldn't do anything about it though!

They have the exhibit and Kim stays for him, something he never would have done ever in his life, and he blatantly only cares about Harry's art, but even he admits that he had a good time. And then they separate. Kim goes back home and rests, waiting for the next case, and Harry stays.

It's a very, extremely, horribly lonely One Day before Harry calls Kim on his personal cell phone and is like. Do you believe in fate? Because I think we were meant to meet each other. They have one phone call, admittedly it was rather short and kind of just them promising to stay in each other's lives, and then when they hang up Kim almost immeditedly goes.

Fuck it.

And drives back to where Harry lives. Except he doesn't know Harry's address! It never came up! Anytime he made sure to see Harry off during the case, Harry just wanted to go to his studio for the night. So Kim checks there and Harry is painting something on a huge canvas.

Painting the portrait of a bespeckled man surrounded by orange and engulfed by a halo.

They smooch. THE END

#disco elysium #harrykim #fanfic

16 notes · View notes

wato1876 · 6 months ago

Text

What? You're still here? It’s over. Go home.

Look, I may not remember ever building this place but dear lord does it need a good cleaning! Atleast I can repurpose this stuff to make something cool... I can finally set my spawn back home and not in an elaborate array of escape rooms anymore.

Tangentially…

Wow. Didn’t expect you to stay this long. Hm. . . This place still exists… I’m glad. I’m glad you are here. Look at how far you’ve come, and you’re here. I’m proud of you.

If you like the content I have produced- wow it is nice to be able to type past Twitter character limit, anyway- thank you! More to come! I have a collab with a few other creators on a little base I made coming up next month! Channel Memberships too maybe! I’ll think of putting up a memory on there too! Anything on that membership would be publicly accessible at some point or some way. Highly recommend checking out ParrotX2’s Unstable Universe series! I am not there (in the foreground) unfortunately but I do make some escape rooms! Ken and Wifies are on there though and they do amazing on it!

While this may be my last post here for a while, I’m glad to see y’all have enjoyed your time. Would you like to know how I found you? All of you? How I remembered you all? Good question. I’ll answer it, I’m not a terrible human being, don’t worry. I got 1 view on my latest video from www.tumblr.com so I came to check out the commotion! Thank y’all and love you guys!

Also happy Pride Month, I know it’s a day over but idc it’ll last till I say it’s over for all I care.

Is this how I do it?

#wato #wato1876 #minecraft

#wato1876 #wato #minecraft

30 notes · View notes

fickleminder · 16 days ago

Text

someday you’ll walk tall with pride

AU. Satan has always felt a little out of place among the demons he was raised by. Maybe a runaway human can help him figure out who he is.

This was one of two pieces I wrote for the Satan Birthday Collab back in 2021. It was on AO3 but I never posted the full fic on tumblr (only reblogged the event post).

The magic circle on the ground crackles with bright green energy. A low-pitched hum in the air grows louder as the spell tightens its hold on the victim standing in the center, but it quickly dissipates as the light dies down and vanishes altogether.

“FUCK!”

“You almost had it.”

“Don’t patronize me. You could have walked out of there anytime and you know it.”

“Of course.” Lucifer grins smugly. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

Satan has to squash the urge to flip him the bird. His restraint is Lucifer’s only recompense for teaching him magic and being a practice dummy. After all, who better to test his skills against than the third-strongest demon in the Devildom?

“Patience, Satan. You may have been named after the former Lord of Wrath, but I didn’t think you’d pick up his temper as well.”

The comparison makes Satan bristle. Screw decency, the middle finger it is.

As though sensing his bad mood, Callie is exceptionally affectionate today. She’s been lounging in Satan’s lap for close to an hour now, leaving the other strays to compete for petting rights from his free hand. Satan can literally feel the stress leaking out of his body as Callie purrs loudly under his gentle touch.

He keeps his love for cats a well-guarded secret. Although his family suspects he is fond of the felines that occasionally visit the house garden, Satan has never dared to enjoy their company in public. He’s already looked down upon by everyone else for being weak, for not measuring up to the rest of his peers; adding ‘soft’ to that list is just asking for more trouble.

Stupid demons, he thinks angrily. Stupid social norms, stupid —

Callie jumps out of his lap and flees into the bushes, along with the rest of the strays. Satan barely registers the sudden emptiness of the abandoned park before the smell of sulfur assaults his nose — a portal, some distant part of his brain notes — and a startled scream rings in his ears as something heavy crashes into his head from above, leaving him sprawled on his back with the mother of all headaches.

He takes a moment to regain his bearings before getting ready to tear into the imbecile who dared to use him as a landing pad, but the words quickly die in his throat.

There’s a girl lying on his chest, clutching a tattered book in her hands. Her hair is greasy and unkempt, and her ill-fitting clothes envelop a frame that looks way too thin to be healthy. Even her skin is littered in cuts and bruises, and there’s no telling what other injuries she may be hiding.

The fall had knocked her out cold, but Satan is unable to pry the book from her death grip. Curiosity drives him to at least catch a glimpse of its title, and his eyes widen at the sight. This is —

“— a very powerful artifact that was stolen from the treasury several months ago. How did it come to be in your possession?” Diavolo asks.

Kirana looks very small under the blanket Barbatos had draped over her shoulders. She hunches timidly into herself as she’s surrounded and stared down by nine powerful men.

Demons, she corrects herself, swallowing tightly at the horns and wings and tails all out on display. The only one who remains human-looking is the blond man who had carried her to the castle, and she subconsciously scoots closer to him.

“They — they forced pacts onto demons and made them steal it,” she explains. “I don’t know how. Those demons didn’t do anything wrong, but more and more are being killed everyday! I can’t — it’s horrible. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I grabbed the book and ran.”

Barbatos presses a warm cup of tea into Kirana’s shaking hands as Diavolo and Lucifer exchange looks. The Hunters are getting bolder by the day, violating the terms of the inter-realm treaty as they please. Why the Sorcerers’ Society has yet to step in is something that bears further investigation.

“Thank you, Kirana.” Diavolo says after the girl has finished her drink and calmed down somewhat. He smiles kindly at her. “You were very brave to bring this back to us. In return, the Lords of Sin will protect you and welcome you into their home, where you will remain until the situation has been dealt with. Is that acceptable to you?”

Kirana’s eyes shine with barely concealed hope. “I — I can stay here? Really?”

“Yes, you have our word.” Lucifer does a cursory sweep of his brothers until his gaze lands on Satan, who is already frowning in anticipation. “In fact, I’ll even assign you a guardian.”

Despite her newfound freedom, Kirana seems content to remain indoors in the comfort of a dusty guest room. So long as she doesn’t cause any trouble or try to walk out the front door by herself, Satan is more than happy to leave her to her own devices. Playing babysitter is such a chore.

She’s clearly wary of them and keeps to herself, but he can tell she isn’t as tense around him. Her tone isn’t so guarded, and she goes to him for any questions about her new environment. Satan knows her familiarity stems from the fact that he had “saved” her, but a part of him can’t help but think it’s because she caught him in the garden the other day making faces at a tabby cat. Maybe I ought to remind her just where she is, he thinks wickedly.

His conviction falters one evening when he spots Kirana wandering around the library after dinner, flipping open books at random and returning them to their shelves. Something in him takes pity on her. “What genre are you looking for?”

To her credit, Kirana doesn’t startle at his voice. “I don’t know. What are these?”

“You’re standing in front of the history section, obviously. Can’t you read?” He sneers with a roll of his eyes, but his jaw slackens when Kirana only lowers her head in shame. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“They took me when I was young,” she admits softly. “I never went to school.”

Satan has the sudden urge to maim someone. Kirana has to be at least in her twenties by now. “You come into my house, and you don’t know how to read? I can’t believe you’re worse than Mammon!” He stomps towards her angrily, ignoring the way she goes absolutely still, and grabs several books before ushering her onto the nearest couch.

This girl is really pissing me off, he thinks, plopping down next to her. “Okay, listen closely because I’ll only say this once. Firstly, mystery novels are the best. No questions asked. Secondly, you need to start building your phonemic awareness. It’s basically breaking down individual words into…” Satan trails off as a horrifying thought strikes him. “Please tell me you know your ABCs,” he almost begs.

Kirana nods excitedly and leans into him, her eyes fixed on the open book in his hands. All things considered, she’s a pretty good student. Satan rarely has patience for idiots, but given her enthusiasm for learning how to read, he makes the effort to slow down and enunciate properly, tracing every word on the pages as she listens attentively and repeats after him.

The hours fly by. At some point, a cat print blanket finds its way across Kirana’s lap; it had been a birthday present from Belphie several years back, and Satan usually left it in the library in case either of them wanted to use it.

“...then whatever remains, however improbable, must be — Oh.”

Satan doesn’t realise he’s been reading aloud to himself for a while now. Kirana’s lack of response should have been a dead giveaway, but somehow he’s gotten used to her silent company and warmth at his side. Seeing her deep, steady breaths and the peaceful expression on her face, he decides to let her sleep.

“Alright, let’s resume this session tomorrow then.” Satan moves slowly, shifting Kirana to lie flat on the couch and pillowing her head with a cushion. He tucks her in with the blanket before quietly taking his leave.

It’s been a few weeks since Kirana found shelter in the House of Lamentation, yet she still can’t seem to get used to the fact that all the food on her plate is for her. And even if her stomach is full, or there’s anything not to her tastes, she won’t be punished for leaving it, especially not with Beel at her service.

“You’re looking much better in your clothes, honey.” Asmo appraises her thoughtfully, his eyes glimmering with interest. “Say, let’s go shopping one of these days and pick out something nicer for you to wear. What’s your favorite color?”

Kirana pauses, lowering a half-eaten roll of bread. “...I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. I can wear whatever you want.”

Lucifer interrupts Asmo’s dirty snigger with a sharp cough.

“How about your favorite food?” Beel asks as he puts aside his fourth plate for the night.

“I’ll eat anything. I’m not picky.”

“Do you play games?” Levi chimes in.

“Movies! What kind do you like?” Mammon adds.

“She’s probably never done any of those, dumbasses.” Belphie yawns, right before Lucifer tells them to cut it out, clearly noticing Kirana’s growing discomfort and embarrassment.

“Aww come on, big bro! First you axe our trips to the human realm and now you’re censoring us in our own home? That’s unfair!”

Satan eats his meal in silence as Mammon continues to complain about Lucifer’s controlling tendencies.

Maybe Kirana doesn’t quite know who she is either, he realizes.

Not a demon!

Not your son!

The double doors to the library fly open with a resounding bang. Satan storms inside seething with rage, fresh from another argument about his behavior in RAD which had quickly derailed into more personal territory.

Anyone can tell he’ll tear the head off of the next unfortunate soul who so much as looks at him funny, so it’s no surprise when he turns and snarls at the person approaching him from behind, growling louder when Kirana doesn’t even flinch or back away.

“Not scared?” He mocks her, fists curled and itching for a fight.

“You like cats,” she says as though it’s the answer to all his problems. “So you can’t be all bad.”

“You think you know me so well, huh?” Kirana’s logic makes no sense, but she doesn’t give him a chance to argue.

“You’re smart; you know all sorts of things. You’re teaching me to read, you share the books you like with me, and you never say anything but I can tell you always figure out the bad guy before we reach the end.

“You’re kind to the cats in the garden, and I like the way you laugh when you play with them. You care a lot about your family even though you prank them all the time. I think you’re really cool.”

Satan refuses to falter. “Bold words. I was raised by demons, you know.”

“Doesn’t make you a bad person.” She shakes her head. “Astaroth was a demon, but he was nice to me too.”

Now that catches Satan’s attention, and his eyes widen in shock. Astaroth had disappeared from RAD without a trace almost a year ago. “Where is he now? How did —”

Kirana’s shoulders slump miserably. “He’s gone. I don’t know why, he never hurt anyone. He talked to me and gave me some of his food. He was too strong for them to force a pact on him, but they couldn’t let him go.

“Somebody came to take him away. I don’t know who it was, I’ve never seen them before. Ast told me to close my eyes, said I shouldn’t look at them or I’ll go blind… I never saw him again.”

Astaroth was a cocky bastard, but he’d been one of the more decent demons. Maybe that’s why he was so popular in RAD. He and Satan hadn’t exactly been close, but hearing about his fate was saddening. “Nice doesn’t mean good,” Satan protests weakly.

“Angry doesn’t mean bad either,” Kirana counters. “You get mad a lot, but you’ve never hurt anyone. You’ve never hurt me. When I fell on you, the first thing you did was carry me to get help. When I woke up, you asked me if I was okay, even when you had that big bruise on your forehead.”

She unfolds the cat print blanket in her arms and throws it over his head and shoulders like a comforting hug.

“It’s my turn to ask. Are you okay?”

There’s the longest pause before a faint sniffle reaches Lucifer’s ears. At the back of his mind, memories stir.

It had been out of a twisted sort of obligation that led the Lord of Pride to adopt the baby and raise him as his own, but he owed the mother that much. She’d been riddled with holes mere minutes after he had let them go, after she had warned him that her captors’ next hunting grounds were the high-end casinos in Vegas. Innocent civilians got caught up in the senseless bursts of violence between the three realms everyday, but the vital piece of information that had allowed Lucifer to save his brother had put him in her debt.

He retrieved the crying infant from under the mother’s bloody corpse and razed the rest of the camp to ashes.

Lucifer’s pride takes a hit knowing that Kirana had gotten through to Satan when he couldn’t, but as long as his son comes out stronger for it, he thinks he can let it slide.

Assured that Satan will be alright, Lucifer retreats from behind the double doors.

The marketplace is bustling with activity, the streets packed with crowds. Kirana holds on to the empty sleeve of Satan’s jacket as the two navigate their way between the stalls.

Getting through the portals was easy, seeing as they only restricted demonic traffic. Kirana had been inspired by cookbooks lately and expressed interest in learning how to recreate the pretty looking food illustrated in the pages. The recipes demanded ingredients their kitchen was short of however, prompting Satan to propose an ad hoc trip to the surface. Lucifer made grocery runs in the human realm all the time, so he figured it should be safe.

But danger often lurks where it’s least expected.

A sharp tug is all the warning Satan gets; he pivots to see the soles of Kirana’s shoes disappearing around a corner. The backstreet he chases her into is filled with twists and turns, but there’s really only one way to go. He swerves into an alley and promptly finds himself blasted with a spell which sends him crashing to the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

“Well now, this is interesting,” a tall figure says, staring down at him in amusement. “You smell like them, but you’re human.”

Behind them, Kirana is curled into a shaking ball at the feet of several men, her eyes tightly screwed shut. Likely out of fear, but Satan suspects that is the same monster who smote Astaroth.

“Forget about him, he’s nothing.” The stranger tells their men. “Let’s —”

“He’s my friend!” Kirana shouts in defiance, despite the slight tremble in her voice. She reels backwards with a cry as a heavy boot strikes her in the stomach, and her head collides with the brick wall with a sickening crack.

“If the girl is what you want, then just take her and go. We’re wasting time.” A blink, and the stranger is gone.

Kirana whimpers as rough hands sink into her blood-matted hair and start dragging her away, but her eyes snap open when the Hunters suddenly scream and release her.

Satan moves in a flash, scooping her up and depositing her a safe distance away. Through her blurry vision, she can see green fire circling the men. They curse and swear as they struggle to free themselves, but their feet are practically glued to the cobblestone, the spell unyielding.

“What is this sorcery? Who are you?” One of them demands.

“I am Satan, Lord of Wrath.”

It could be the pain making her see things, but Satan’s horns curl beautifully against the sides of his head. His blackened nails have never looked sharper, and an armored tail whips back and forth in gleeful anticipation.

“And I will make you pay for hurting Kirana.”

#writing #obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me satan #obey me oc

12 notes · View notes

aeth3rvah1ll · 7 months ago

Text

Hello students! Meet your new English teacher, Mr. Darling!

New AU: English Teacher Wally!! He’s a 20 yr old teacher who cares deeply for his students like they’re his own and makes sure they know it through his actions and words!

Try not to upset him though, he starts speaking French (Spanish sometimes too!) when he gets in a mood— his face goes red too!!

To introduce this au: FAKE COLLAB!! Enjoy dearest friends, can’t wait to see what you create! 🫶

Boundaries for the AU:

- Do’s/Allowed -

> (non-canon)Relationships/friendships

> (fan made) children

> Silly fanart/fanart in general (please Tag me, love seeing your artworks!)

> AU/Oc interactions

> SFW? (w/ my permission/consent; I’m iffy on it)

- Don’t’s/Not Allowed -

> NSFW

> “Fixing” him in any way

> Suggestive art

> Relationships w/ big age gaps (he’s 20yrs old so DON’T do this pls)

> Toxicity/Abuse/Harassment/etc

Please don’t cross these boundaries, thank you!!

Small fact shown in another artwork of ET Wally:

Hope you find comfort in him as much as I do. Til the next post, see you around friends! And happy Pride month!

#welcome home #wally darling #welcome home au #welcome home fanart #welcome home aus #artists on tumblr #lgbt #pride month

28 notes · View notes

seokgyuu · 1 year ago

Text

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.

#svthub #svthub.collab #lee seokmin fanfiction #dokyeom fanfiction #seokmin fanfiction #seokmin x reader #dokyeom x reader #dk x reader #dk fanfiction #svt x reader #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen smut #svt smut #dk smut #dokyeom smut #seokmin smut #lee seokmin smut #ksmutsociety

913 notes · View notes

sweet-littlerose · 7 months ago

Text

Every Little Everything|| A Matt Sturniolo FanFic Collab (edit: no longer a collab)

Hey pretties! First off I wanna say HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. I have not been on here in a minute but as time passes I miss my little writing moments so heres Part One of a New Fic I am writing. This is my writing and my work with the help of peachy to make the title name and the chapter names as well as the proof reading. I hope you all enjoy and stay tuned, part 2 is coming soon <3

——————————————————————————————————

Part One- The Ghost Of You

After High School Graduation. Boston, MA

You lean over the wall that separates the ice rink from the seating. You are watching Matt, Nick, and Chris skate around. The hockey season had ended a long while ago but they always came back to the rink just for fun. Graduating highschool was scary, stepping out into the real world always seemed easier when you thought for sure you’d have the triplets with you. Things changed quickly when Matt and the boys had broken the news to you. They’d be moving to LA to pursue their content creation and you'd be alone, going off to college. You had been trying to enjoy these last couple of months before graduation, but every happy moment was overpowered by the thought of the boys you spent so much of your life with leaving. You and Matt were much closer than you were with Nick and Chris, not purposely, but both of you struggled with a lot of the same issues and found comfort in each other through the years.

“Earth to Y/N '' Matt said, waving his hand in front of your face as he leaned on the wall.

“Huh? Oh hey,” you say, smiling at the boy.

“Still thinking about the move?” he asked her.

“Yea… I'm just gonna miss you guys,” you say.

“I know, but we will come back here to visit for Christmas,” Matt said, placing his hand on yours.

“We should meet in town when you visit. You know, the town square where they put the big tree up every year? We meet there on Christmas Eve at midnight and exchange gifts. Promise me?” you say, looking into his eyes. You are sure he can tell just how important this is to you by the way his answer is quick and not hesitated.

“I promise,” he said, squeezing your hand with a smile.

“And we stay in contact, text, call, facetime, whatever. Promise?” you ask, making Matt chuckle

“I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about,” he said, moving his hand to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across the soft skin.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Time seemed to fly. With every passing day, you felt the loneliness creep in as the boys began to pack to leave. It had not fully hit you until you were in their house, looking at Matt's empty room. You’d come to hang out, like you always did as a kid.

Standing in the doorway of the room it almost took your breath away.

“It looks different this way,” you said as the boy turned from his closet and set a box of clothes on the bed. “Empty,” his words slipped out in the saddest tone, pursing his lips together as his hands steady himself on either side of the box.

“I'm proud of you, Matty,” you say, the sadness lingering in your words. He didn't respond; he just made quick strides in your direction. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug, resting his chin on top of your head.

“You know I would take you with us if I could, Y/N,” the boy said sadly.

You knew this would be hard, and as much as you wished you could pack up and move with them, you had nothing for you in LA. You got into college here in Boston, something you had worked so hard for. The boys had cheered you on in your audition for the prestigious music school, and you knew it was your dream; they knew it was your dream. So here you were at an impasse, saying goodbye to everything you knew and loved…the people you loved.

You looked up at Matt, his eyes meeting yours. You and Matt often had moments, just a glimpse of something more than friends, but it never came out. No one confessed or made any big moves because your friendship was way too important to risk. “At the end of the day, you will always be one of my best friends. No distance changes that” Matt said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with a soft smile. Here, looking in his eyes like this was the first time it hit you this hard. Realizing just how deeply rooted your feelings were for him. Even though everything in your body urged you to make the move, you couldn't. If you ruined it, or went too far it could destroy everything and you may never hear from him again and that in and of itself was the scariest thought.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bitter sweet day came, you were helping them drag their things to the van as they prepared for the long road trip. “Welp that's the last of it” you said, shutting the trunk with a sigh. You turned to the boys and their parents, watching as they hugged each other to say goodbye. You hug the boys one by one starting with Chris. “Good luck in school Kid” Chris said, rubbing your back before pulling away.

“Thanks Chris” you said, smiling. On to nick, he wrapped his arms around you tightly “Gonna miss you so much, promise to still be my wing woman?” he asked “Always” you say, fighting the tears now. Nick pulled away, Matt making his way over. “No tears” he said, his arms picking you up to spin you around before setting you down “No tears” you say back, biting the inside of your cheek to stop from sobbing. You watched him leave, pulling out of the driveway and driving down the street and you start to wonder what you and Matt could’ve been had you not been so scared.

Screaming, Crying, Throwing up, and ultimately so happy!

Hope yall love it!

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #fanfic #matt sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo

31 notes · View notes

ultrainfinitepit · 7 months ago

Text

Shop Update June 2024

Time for the June update, here's everything new on Shopify and Etsy:

New pin designs: Flywing Seraph and Israfel Seraph spinning pin

A new charity pin: Palestine Sunbird, available in standard or seconds grade

Recolors of my Holy Serpent pin from the Alumeire Pin Banner campaign

I have uploaded lineart from the Angelology IV campaign to Gumroad, it is free for personal/non-commercial use such as tattoos. For more information on my usage policy you can check my FAQ.

My next campaign Pride Angels will launch June 24, it will feature over forty angel designs to be made into stickers, pins, and more. And I will be partnering with Key and Crow Studios who is running Pride Potions, to offer a pair of cross-collab freebie pins. You can preview the Pride Angels designs on my social media and read more about the campaign on the pre-launch page.

Ahead of the campaign, all the remaining old Pride Angels merch in my shops is on sale for 25% off until the end of June, discount is applied at checkout.

And finally: as with last month, I have a poll on Tumblr to vote on which pin designs to make next.

That's all for this update, have a fantastic June❤️

#shop stuff #shop news #pins #pin #enamel pin #enamel pins #angel #angels

40 notes · View notes

cryptidtyping · 1 year ago

Text

Daddy's Kitten

Diavolo x afab!reader | 3.9k words

18+ only! Minors do NOT interact!

Written as part of @mikage-rehoe 's "Yes, Daddy" collab. Check out the other entries here!

Summary: Diavolo asks you to come to the castle to help him with something. What could it be, you wonder?

No gendered pronouns or terms are used for reader, and little to no descriptions of their body (beyond the genitals, lol). Also, Y/N is not used, Reader's name is indicated by ____. This is my first time writing smut, so please tell me what you think!

Tags/Warnings: Daddy kink, light pet play, established relationship, collaring, dom/sub dynamics, multiple rounds, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, reader gets called kitten/kitty, non-consensual voyeurism, color informed consent (Dia checks in on Reader a few times), hints of aftercare, jealous lucifer, lucifer gets no bitches, two people in love fucking sloppy-style

---------

I require your help, darling. Please come to the castle at your earliest convenience.

It was the weekend, so you were just lounging in your room as you scrolled on devilgram. Upon seeing your boyfriends’ text, you knew there were only a few occasions he’d require your help for-

1) He was overwhelmed with paperwork.

2) He was horny.

3) He missed you.

4) All the above

Replying that you’d be on your way soon, you roll out of bed and slip into some lacy lingerie that Diavolo had bought you recently. Overtop was a cute red dress that fell just above your knees, and a dab of perfume (both also bought courtesy of your lover). Deeming yourself ready, you grab your bag and head out the door.

“____?” Called a voice that made you grimace, not that he could see it. “You look… nice. Are you heading somewhere?”

Smoothing your expression before turning around, you reply neutrally. “Yes. Dia has invited me over.”

“I see.” Lucifer’s voice is a bit clipped at your response. The two of you had had a series of arguments over the last several weeks, ranging from ‘sub-par’ grades (you’d slipped from the number 6 spot in class to number 10 after the teachers decided to start grading you more harshly. Still, that was 10th place out of hundreds of students!) to how you referred to Diavolo ‘too informally’.

The same Diavolo who you were dating. What, you couldn’t give your own damn boyfriend pet names?

Lucifer had yet to apologize or explain what had crawled up his ass and died, and you were frankly tired of the shitty attitude he’d adopted after your relationship with the Prince became publicly official. (You and Diavolo had been seeing each other privately for a few months before being comfortable about being public with your relationship.)

As the silence between you and Lucifer stretched on, you sighed in frustration. “Did you need something, Lucifer, or can I go meet my boyfriend?”

The dark-haired demon furrowed his brows in annoyance, growling out “No.”

“Excellent. I will be home either tonight or tomorrow, I’ll text the group chat once I know for sure.” Just as you opened the door, Lucifer called to you again.

“Would you-“ there was something in ruby eyes that you didn’t want to give a name to. He coughs into a gloved fist. “I mean, may I escort you to the castle?”

An olive branch.

Again.

How many had Lucifer given out, only to nitpick and neg you later? The man was exhausting, and not in a fun way.

“No,” you snip coldly, unable to stop your glare. Without giving him the chance to respond, you slam the door shut.

In the empty entrance hall, the Avatar of Pride gave a gusty sigh as he dragged a hand down his face. What was he supposed to do?

“Hello, my dear,” Diavolo greets you once you enter his office, rising to give you a kiss and run his large hands down your torso. Barbatos quietly closed the door, promising to return with some tea and cookies. “You look lovely.”

You lean into his warm embrace, kissing him again. “Thank you, Dia. What do you need help with?”

Golden eyes get darker, a smirk playing about handsome features. “Now, now, kitten, that’s not my name.”

A spark of excitement bloomed in your core, lust beginning to course through you. “I’m sorry, daddy,” you purr, running a hand through his auburn locks. “What can I do for you?”

“Good pet,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a kiss below your ear, causing you to shiver. Thick fingers fiddle with the hem of your dress. “For now, I just require your company while I finish up some paperwork.”

“Yes, daddy,” you press a kiss to his neck in return, delighting in the shiver it caused. Diavolo gives a playful swat to your ass, making you gasp, before he sits back down behind his desk. At his feet was a familiar plush red velvet pillow with gold tassels. Without hesitation, you slip off your shoes, place them neatly out of the way, and kneel beside him, knees cushioned by the undoubtedly expensive ‘cat bed’.

You send a quick message to the HoL group chat that you were with Diavolo and would see them tomorrow. Then you turn your DDD off and tuck it back into your bag, excited to spend the night with the prince, uninterrupted by the needy brothers.

A few quiet minutes pass by, with you resting your head on Diavolos’ knee and his hand petting your hair, the scratch of his pen filling the air. Barbatos comes and goes with a tea service, barely sparing your kneeling form a glance. After a moment, the prince speaks again. “I have a gift for you, pet.”

You look up at him with big eyes, head floaty- kneeling at your lovers feet so obediently always got you quickly into sub-space. “Thank you, daddy.” You murmur, rubbing your cheek on his knee in affection. “You’re always spoiling me.”

Diavolos answering chuckle is warm and husky, and you squirm a bit on your pillow as it sent heat to your core. You could feel slick seeping into your lace panties as you got more and more excited.

“You’re so easy to spoil, my love,” he coos, patting his lap and pulling out a box. Following his wordless command, you crawl into his lap, facing him. What’s revealed to be inside the box makes you gasp.

“Oh, my!” Inside was a fine red leather collar, the inside padded with plush black velvet. The leather was studded with rubies and diamonds, with gold hardware and a large golden bell. Attached was a metal nametag, one side engraved with Daddy’s Kitten, the other containing Diavolos’ contact information. You wiggled in excitement, lightly grinding against your lover. “It’s beautiful!”

Diavolo pulls you into another kiss, deeper than the previous ones. It was full of heat and hunger, one of his large, tan hands encasing the back of your head while the other guided your hips to grind against his bulge. You moan into his mouth, looping your arms around his thick neck. A whine escapes you, unbidden, when he pulls away.

Chuckling, he wiped a bit of spit off your lower lip. “My pretty kitty deserves a pretty collar, don’t they? Stand up and turn around for me, darling, let me see how it looks on you.”

“Yes, daddy,” you obey, slipping off his lap and turning, your skirt swishing teasingly about your thighs. Diavolos’ hands are careful as he slips the leather around your neck and secures it.

“How does it feel?” He murmurs in your ear, flicking the bell so it jingles merrily. “Too tight, too loose?”

“Don’t know,” you reply coyly, glancing seductively over your shoulder. “Could you give it a few tugs, please?”

A groan rumbles through the prince’s broad chest. “Always so polite for me, hmm?” One of his fingers slips through the metal loop, giving a few pulls of varying strength, making your knees weak. “So, darling, how is it?”

“It’s perfect.” Your voice is breathless, but you are unable to catch your breath as you are suddenly bent over his desk with your dress flipped up to show your ass.

Another appreciative groan leaves your lover as he takes in the red and gold lingerie he had bought you last week, smacking an ass cheek to watch the skin jiggle. He leans over your back, grinding his clothed erection against your soaked panties. “You’re perfect. Always so fucking pretty and perfect for daddy.”

You moan as he slaps your ass again, pushing your hips back against him. “Ngh, daddy, please!”

“Please what, kitten? What do you need?”

“Need you inside me, please daddy please-“

Diavolo tuts in faux disappointment. Your logical mind, which was quickly fleeing, knew he wasn’t being serious, but your sub-space addled brain hated disappointing your daddy. “But I still need to finish my work, can kitten be patient?” All the while, he still slowly ground against you.

“Yes, yes, I can wait,” you pant, still bouncing your ass back on his cock even as you promised patience. “Anything for daddy.”

“Such a good kitty,” Diavolo coos. “What’s your color?”

“Green.” You respond immediately.

Diavolo whispers you more praises as he settles you back on his lap. “Stay still, okay? Don’t distract daddy while he finishes up and he’ll get you a pretty new leash to match your collar.” Little did you know he already had the matching leash, stashed in the drawer of his bedside table. He was hoping to use it later tonight.

“Yes, daddy, thank you!” You exclaim happily, pressing close to his chest. A warm hand rubs up and down your back, your prince working to finish quickly so he could play with you all night- or as long as you could last.

Diavolo could feel your pussy lips throbbing on his dick through the fabric of his trousers, slowly driving him insane. That, accompanied by your sweet smell and how eagerly you wore the low-necked dress he got you, how sweetly you called his title, how easily you followed his commands- it was a miracle he managed to finish his work tonight. (Or ever, with you around.)

Thankfully, the prince possessed an iron will (that always turned into something softer with you).

He doesn’t bother filing away the completed papers, just pushing them to the side of his desk space to place you in the middle like a beloved prize. He looked at you then, with your cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want, hair mussed up and the low neckline of your dress giving a teasing glimpse of your chest.

You were regarding him much the same way, seeing his eyes shadowed with lust and cheeks tinted pink with excitement, broad chest heaving in his dress shirt as he looked at you. Your eyes travel down his body to the prominent bulge straining against his zipper. Looking back at his eyes, you open your mouth to start begging. You needed his touch on your skin, needed his lips on your mouth, needed his thick cock stuffed in your wet cunt and you needed him now. “Daddy, please- “

Diavolo surges forward, capturing you in a fierce kiss and making you moan. Your arms and legs are around him in an instant, pulling him impossibly closer. One of his hands slips into your panties, coating his fingers in your slick before inserting two into your entrance, immediately finding and rubbing your g-spot.

You pull from the kiss with a “Fuuuuuuck~”, exposing the column of your neck as you toss your head back, sending your collar jingling. The demon prince immediately begins sucking and biting his way down, hickeys blooming in his wake. Between each one, he moans praises and questions against your skin.

“Such a good kitten for me, always wearing what daddy buys. Do you like being pampered? Do you like everyone knowing who owns you?”

“Yes!” You squeal as he adds another finger to your pussy and thumbs at your clit in messy circles, bucking your hips into his hand. Wet squelching begins to fill the office as you drip onto the expensive desk. “Love when daddy buys me pretty clothes, love when others know they can never have daddy, love being owned by daddy, love being good for daddy-“

Your first orgasm crashes over you suddenly, pulsing through you in waves as you wail. The fingers inside you slow down, but don’t stop, making you squirm.

“So good, so pretty,” Diavolo pants, golden eyes flickering between the way your cunt sucked his fingers in and the blissed-out expression on your face. “Color, kitten? Want to keep going?”

“Greengreen green,” you chant desperately. “Daddy, please, ‘m so wet, need your cock, please gimme your cock, please-“

Tan lips on yours interrupt your begging as the fingers are pulled out of you and leave you feeling empty. You clutch Diavolos black shirt with shaking fingers, pulling at the fabric insistently. You wanted, needed more of him, as much of him as he could give.

“You sound so good begging daddy,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’d give you the three realms on a platter if it’d make you smile, my love. Now strip out of that dress, okay?”

You do so with haste, pulling it off and casting it aside. Your lover matches your speed in shucking off his own clothes, his impressive cock bobbing proudly between his legs as beads of precum dribble down the shaft.

Laying back on the desk, you bring your knees to your shoulders and spread your legs. The thin strap of lace that covered you was shiny with slick, the matching bralette doing little to hide your pebbled nipples. “How’s this, daddy?”

“Fuck,” Diavolo swears, wanting to capture this image and hang it in his throne room, if only to show others what they could never have. Large hands push your thighs further apart. His cock jumps in interest. “I’m gonna fuck this sweet cunt raw-“

“Please,” you whine, pouting up at him with kiss-swollen lips.

“For you, anything.” Your panties are slipped to the side as he rubs his member between your lower lips, collecting your juices before the fat head slipped into your entrance.

His moan rumbled through you as he slid all the way to the base in one go. It took you only seconds to adjust to the pleasurable stretch, which is fortunate as that’s all you were given. Diavolo fucked you as though it were both the first and last time he’d ever be able to, reaching deep inside you with every fast, rough thrust.

You loved it. You loved him.

“Love you, love you, love you,” you babble, drunk on his cock, fingers clawing at his shoulders in bliss.

“Yeah?” He placed your legs over his shoulders, reaching deeper into you. His voice was gravelly and deep as he praised how well you took his cock, how wet your pussy was, how much your scratches stung, how loud you moaned his title and your adoration. His fingers quickly find your clit again, rubbing it in tight circles. “Want me t’cum in your pussy? Want me t’cum nice and deep inside?”

“Yesyesyes,” you wail as the knot in your belly gets tighter and tighter. “Cum in me, cum with me-“

The knot snapped for you both, your heels beating pitifully against his muscles back as Diavolo spilled inside. You arch fruitlessly beneath him, moving your hips against his as much as you could to tide out your orgasm. He leans down to kiss your panting mouth, trailing kisses down your neck and allowing your legs to go relax down against the desk. For a few moments, the two of you lay there in the glory of sweaty bodies and euphoria, the air filled only with panting breaths and kisses and the faint jingling of your bell.

Diavolo waits patiently for you to either give the go ahead, or ask to stop- if you took too long, he’d ask your color again. In the meanwhile, he was content to nip at your skin and trace his hands over your chest.

You break the silence after you’ve caught your breath.

“… Again.” You look at your lover, your prince, your Diavolo with bright eyes and a flushed complexion. Sitting up, you caress his sharp jaw and trail kisses up it, before biting just below his ear. “Please, daddy.” You whisper as he shudders and groans above you, cock perking up inside you with interest. “Please daddy, I can’t get enough of you.”

“You’re perfect,” he repeats against your neck, breathless. Slowly drawing back from you, he pulls out and watches with lust-blown pupils as his seed dropped out of your cunt, making you whine at the loss. “None of that now, kitten. Bend over for me.”

The look on your face could only be described as lovesick, body moving on its own to obey. “Yes, daddy.”

Lucifer looked again through his files for the data sheet showing the current budget, needing it to approve or reject various club proposals for equipment or field trips. Unfortunately, all his rifling and ruffling was for naught, and the paper remained unfound. Sighing, he leans back in his leather chair and contemplated whether or not he should go to the castle tonight to retrieve the paper that was undoubtedly hidden somewhere in Diavolo’s office.

On one hand, these proposals were the last thing he needed to get done, then he could spend tomorrow listening to his records, or playing piano, or perhaps catching up on some sleep. On the other hand, he had no desire to see you and the prince… canoodling.

Neither you nor Diavolo were shy about public affection, with you unbearably happy to cling to Diavolo’s arm or hand or press a kiss or two to each other’s skin, laughing together about in-jokes. Lucifer hated it, hated that he waited too long in-

Never mind.

He deserved a day off tomorrow. He was getting that data sheet.

You were absolutely dizzy with pleasure, face pressed against lacquered mahogany as Diavolo pounded into you. A myriad of moans and whines left your mouth, accompanied by the squelching of his cock in your fucked-out pussy. Your nth orgasm ripped through you, strangled moan muffled by the wood. Diavolo groaned behind you, eyes focused on how your little hole kept swallowing him, how your ass jiggled with each thrust.

“Fuckin’ love this ass,” he growls, punctuating his words with a slap to your rear. “Fuckin’ love this pussy, always takin’ me so-“ SLAP “-fuckin’-“ SLAP “-well. Can you cum for me one more time? What’s-“

“Green!” you manage to gasp out, answering his next question before he could fully voice it. Pleasured tears dripped from your eyes, pooling and mixing with the sweat and drool beneath your face. You jolt when another smack lands on your ass again, Diavolo slowly grinding his hard dick against your warm, wet walls. “Wanna be good for daddy, want him to fill me up! ~”

The world spins as you’re man-handled into a new position. Spread wide open on his lap as he sat back in his chair, back to his chest with his hands leaving bruises on your hips. “You’re so good for me,” Diavolo rumbles in your ear, forcing your hips to move in slow circles on his cock. “Are you ready, my love?”

You’re thankful for the small reprieve he gives you before you nod your head, whispering “please, please, please” as he hooks your knees over muscular forearms, wraps large hands around your waist, and bounces you.

“Fu-u-u-uck,” you moan in staccato, winding your arms around his neck and leaning further into him. The new position made Diavolo’s cock feel even bigger, and the way he had you spread out felt so lewd, as though he were showing you off to someone. The thought had you gushing around him. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, please-“

Your babbling was music to Diavolo’s ears as he fucked up into you each time he brought you down. One hand finds your clit yet again, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud. “Who owns this fucking pussy?” He growls, the vibrations from his chest felt throughout your smaller frame. “Who owns you?”

“You do!” you cry, knot again forming quickly in your stomach. Something felt different than the previous ones, though you couldn’t quite get your fucked-out mind to figure out why.

“And who am I, kitten?” he asks, thrusts getting sloppy as he too got close to release, eyes sparing a glance at the cracked door.

“Daddy! My daddy!” your voice cracks and warps around the pleasure, your hips doing their best to fuck down onto the sinful cock inside you. “I’m yours, I’m yours-!”

“Good kitten, good fucking kitten,” he circles his digits faster over your clit. The prince loved the way your eyes crosses, your tongue lolling out of your mouth, your body holding onto him like a vice, how your nails bit into the skin at the nape of his neck. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” you breath hotly into his ear, looking up at him in hazy adoration. “I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m gonna-“

“Cum for me,” Diavolo commands lowly, briefly nipping at your neck. With just a few more circles of his fingers, you climax with a wail of his title. Your cum sprays out of you, covering his desk and going everywhere as the prince chases his own release. With a low bellow, he slams you down on his cock as it throbs and releases his thick cum inside it.

The smell of sex hung heavy in the air, both of you catching your breath. Diavolo murmured praises in your ear, massaging your sides and waiting for you to come back to the world. “How do you feel, darling?” He whispers. “Do you need a break?”

You nod wordlessly, taking a moment to find your words. “I’d like something to eat, please,” you say quietly, nosing at the junction between his jaw and neck. “And a massage?”

“Anything for you,” he responds, pressing a (hilariously) chaste kiss to your forehead. He stands, holding you bridal style, and walks over to the door adjoining his office to his personal chambers. “Let me lie you down and have Barbatos drop off dinner, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum, pressing a less-than-chaste kiss to his shoulder. “We should watch a movie, too.”

“Of course,” Diavolo grins down at you, placing you on cool silk sheets. “Just a moment, alright, my love?” After another agreeing hum from you, he walks back into his office, closes the doors, and sits back at his desk.

“You needed something, Lucifer?”

Lucifer felt humiliated at having been discovered peeping, but it wasn’t his fault he caught you and Diavolo having sex! (Even though the dark-haired demon is the one who decided it would be a good idea to crash your date, and even though he decided to stand and watch like a filthy pervert instead of leave.) Still, he walked into the office with his head held high and resolutely ignored the erection straining at his zipper, as well as the fact the prince was naked without a care in the world. “I require the budget data sheet.”

Diavolo laughs jovially, searching through the splattered papers that remained on his desk. “Of course, of course. Sorry about that, old friend,” he smiles, but there was something unpleasant about the expression. The auburn-haired demon holds out the sheet in question and narrows his eyes. “Did you see anything you liked?”

Lucifer took the sheet with stiff fingers, ignoring the clear liquid that spotted it. “No.” he lies, even though he knows its useless- Diavolo always knew when someone was lying.

The edge in the prince’s gaze sharpened, contrasting the companionable slap he gives to the Avatar of Pride. “Good. And remember,” Diavolo guided his friend out of the room. “____ belongs to me.”

The other demon nods, walking away, intent on returning to the HoL as soon as possible. After all, he had a very busy night ahead of him, filled with fucking his fist to the memory of your voice.

#reader insert #obey me x reader smut #diavolo x reader #x reader smut #afab reader #collaboration #cryptids collabs #listen #diavolo gives off major daddy vibes #cross posted to ao3 #jealous lucifer #obey me fanfic #obey me smut #my first smut

60 notes · View notes