#mind you. this is if no new frames i really want come out LMAO

[aetherose]

This fucker's been avoiding me for way too long. Now. Now I have him. I'll have a propre ice team now and be ready for Shukra in November. Heck yeah.

[dollfacefantasy]

Like Lovers Do

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: Bored with the RPD's fundraising banquet, you pull Leon away to have some fun in a storage closet.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, friends with benefits

word count: 2.1k

a/n: the chris and leon drabble is next i swear. i just change my mind like every five seconds lmao. i hope everyone enjoys :) as always, i appreciate all the reblogs and comments <3

Applause sounds throughout the banquet hall as Leon flashes his awkward smile. He holds up the small, cheap trophy he’d won, the words Rookie of the Year displayed on the plaque at the base. He’s quick to walk away from the microphone and exit the stage, returning to his seat next to you. Your boss takes his place, but your attention is consumed by him.

“Wow. I see how it is. Don’t even mention me in your speech for your prestigious award,” you say in a hushed voice, a grin spreading across your features.

His cheeks tinge pink as his own smile graces your vision. “I did mention you. I said my partner,” he responds, “Plus, don’t act like you really care about these things.”

You roll your eyes playfully. It was true. You didn’t care about the little superlatives the department gave out for entertainment at the annual fundraising banquet. But that wouldn’t stop you from complaining about your loss to Leon and his perceived lack of appreciation for you.

“I do care actually. And I guess that’s true, but it wasn’t very specific,” you say, “If I’d won, I would have mentioned you.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he shakes his head. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, connecting his eyes with yours.

Just seeing him like this was getting you all worked up. He looked as handsome as you’d ever seen him in his suit. You’d also been wanting to ditch this thing for a while now. You’d shown up and said hi to everyone as you were expected to do. Now you’d grown tired of watching your colleagues galavant around with their dates and swap stories from the job.

“Hmmm… well you know. I think I have a way you could make it up to me,” you say, keeping your voice quiet to not catch the attention of anyone sitting near you.

Leon raises an eyebrow, but of course, he knew exactly what you meant. You both were insatiable for one another. That small lilt in your voice alone clued him in. You’d almost conditioned him to pop a boner when he heard it.

“Do you?” he teases back.

“Mhm,” you nod, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh beneath the table, “Follow me in a couple minutes.”

You rise from your seat. You make sure to be quiet and not draw any attention to yourself, but your hands still rest on your stomach, giving the appearance that you’re suffering some sort of sudden illness. You walk away from the tables and over to the hallway doors, the points of your heels softly clicking against the ground as you go.

Once you’re out, you turn back and watch Leon through the little slit of a window in the door. You see him wait for a few minutes and then look around as if he’s concerned for where you’ve gone. Then he rises in the same way you did and makes his way to the same set of doors.

As he opens them, a giggle bursts from your lips and you pull his body against your own. The two of you lean in for a few kisses. “Nice work, superstar. I’m sure the next thing you’ll be winning is an oscar,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles as that blush grows a little stronger. He nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss before you pull away to walk further down the hall.

The RPD held this event at this place every single year. It was the first for both you and Leon, both freshly graduated. You look around curiously at your surroundings as you head to another door near the ones you’d entered from. You notice the hallway lined with academy graduation photos. Upon closer examination, you spot yourself in the one hanging next to the new door 

“Aww, we look so young here,” you coo, looking at the framed picture of your and Leon’s class. 

A chuckle comes from over your shoulder before you feel him kissing up your neck. “It was only a year ago,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, but you have such a baby face here,” you tease.

“What can I say? A year of working with you has really worn me down,” he replies.

He cracks open the door, and you see inside is just a storage closet. You pull him by the collar of his suit into the small space. He follows eagerly and pushes you up against the wall.

“I’m so sure, Mr. Rookie of the Year,” you taunt, catching him in another kiss.

Your hand slides into his hair, threading through the blonde locks as your lips move with his. Meanwhile, his palms coast up your side, feeling the smooth fabric of your party dress beneath his fingers. His foot knocks into your ankle, a small signal for you to spread your legs.

“Well it’s not so shocking when you consider that I only won because half the time I’m on the job, I’m cleaning up your messes,” he jokes between kisses.

“I think between the two of us, you’re the messy one,” you say back and turn around to deepen the kiss.

His left hand rises to your breast on the same side, squeezing the mound and drawing a tender sigh from you. His right slides down your thigh and lifts your leg by the crux of your knee. He grinds his growing bulge against your panties, a soft moan falling from his lips at the familiar sensation.

This was far from the first time the two of you had done this. It was far from the first time you’d done this with other people only a few rooms away. At work, you’d done it in the bathrooms, the locker room, the dark room, the storage room in the other wing of offices. You’d even done it in Leon’s cruiser once on a boring night. Sometimes it felt surprising you even managed to make it to a secluded place.

You weren’t even fully sure of what you and Leon were to each other. Neither of you had ever put a title on this dance you did. You both let yourselves run on pure lust without much care for fine details. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You’d had a crush on him since your first day in the academy. He’d had you hooked on him since the first time you slept together on the night of your graduation in a drunken hurricane of unfiltered desire.

In your heart, not much had changed since that night. The two of you are still wrapped up in a flurry of kisses as he slowly rocks against you, grunting quietly. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the feeling of your body around his. Lowering his head, he starts kissing your neck again. Your noises are the same volume as his, just a bit whinier.

“We gotta be quick,” you mumble against the side of his head. You drag your nose against his soft tendrils of hair. A shaky breath blows against the side of his head.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. You heard ‘em out there. I get things done fast and efficiently,” he teases as his lips unlatch from your neck.

The cocky expression on his face only got you hotter. You pull him into a more aggressive kiss, your noses mashing against one another. His breaths fan over your face as his hands tug your panties down to your knees. He then cups both of your legs behind the knees, folding you in half against the wall.

He pins you there with his own weight as he pulls himself out of his pants. His fingers fish a condom out of his pocket and tear the foil quickly before tossing it aside, leaving it for some poor person to find at a later date. You don’t think of that in the moment though. You’re more enraptured with how you can feel the heat of his tip nudging at the wetness between your legs even with the latex barrier between you.

“Put it in,” you whimper and squirm in his grasp. The teasing side of you was fading fast as need took over.

He grins with a mocking look in his eyes, but he obliges you. He slips it in and lets out a deep breath, savoring the way you squeeze around him.

“Think you should’ve won most desperate,” he teases, “Or maybe neediest little slut.”

You go to defend yourself, but all that comes out is a whine. The confident side of him rears its head. It was kind of funny to you how your dynamic would shift once he got you craving his cock. Another mewl escapes you as his hips retract and push forward again.

“What was that? You know I’m right. You couldn’t even wait to get back to your apartment,” he continues.

He begins pumping his hips for real, and all you can get out for a moment are broken whimpers. He fucked you just right, always did. He was blessed with a thick cock that rubbed up against your insides in a way that felt like heaven. Your legs clamp against his sides as your head tilts back against the wall. The thrum of the bass starts vibrating through the cement again, letting you know they had turned on the music again in the other room.

“Fuck Leon…” you breathe before crying out sharply as he rotates his hips to hit your sweet spot.

Your own hand flies to your mouth to cover it and muffle any other noises. He smiles at the sight and kisses your cheek, resting his forehead against your temple.

“That’s right, gotta keep quiet. If anyone walked by and heard, we’d both be getting fucked,” he says and continues rocking the both of your bodies as he thrusts into you.

You nod. Your other arm wraps around him tight to keep yourself supported. You’re starting to sweat, but you can feel that he is too. Fucking fully clothed probably wasn’t the smartest idea either of you had indulged in, but it felt too good for you too honestly care. Your hand slips down of your face as the pleasure takes over a bit more.

“Leon… fuck, I can’t…” you moan softly.

He guides your hand back to your lips before returning his own to your knee to keep you up. His fingers dig into your legs with a bruising grip and he thrusts quicker.

“Yeah? You gonna cum already, baby? That’s pretty fast. Maybe that’s another award you should win,” he pants.

“Shut up,” you mumble against your hand as your hips start involuntarily rolling against his.

Your breasts push up against his chest as your body writhes against the wall. He just keeps going, wanting to work you to the edge you were fast approaching. His shaft slides in and out over and over. You smile as your head spins with the pleasure.

“I feel it coming,” he whispers, “I feel you getting all tight. Just cum for me. Let it out.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the coil inside you snap and moan into the palm of your hand. You buck and bury your head in the crook of his neck. His eyes close, focusing everything he has on his own release. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s attempting to silence his groans against your flesh. His hips jump and his knees quiver for a moment.

He holds inside you for a moment longer, letting the both of you come down before you attempt acting normal again. When that time comes though, he carefully pulls out of you and helps you back onto your feet. Your legs are kind of wobbly, but you maintain your balance. You work on fixing your dress and hair as Leon gets rid of the condom and puts himself back together.

You reach down to pull your panties up, but he stops you, shaking his head and smiling at you.

“Give ‘em to me,” he says.

You stare at him for a moment, in some form of disbelief, but you go with it. You liked the idea just as much as he did. Letting them fall to the floor, you step out of them and then pick them up and place them in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket, smug smirk on his face the whole time.

He then pulls you by your waist for one more kiss. “C’mon, we should go back now. Don’t want anybody thinking we ran off.”

You laugh a little and nod. “We should just run off though,” you say.

“Only a couple more hours and we can. My place or yours, we can go back and replay that all night long,” he says before giving you a smack on the ass and following you back to the hall to return to the party of unknowing guests.

[lucysarah-c]

Levi's horrible flirting skills part 5.

Will I start using my own art as banners? Yeah, 'cause I can lmao.

Masterlist link to all the previous parts.

Footsteps against the muddy ground, the little snow that had fallen in the south melted easily and only served as nourishment to the mud. Levi’s combat boots made it easier for him to take one sturdy step after another, hands inside the pockets of the scout’s green trench coat. Eyes fixed on the ground, dark rebel locks fell to the sides of his face as only his nose peeked through the scarf, creating a fog rhythmically in front of his face. 

He took the muddiest side of the country road out of respect, it felt natural to him. Quickly, his eyes spotted that certain parts of the road were already frozen, “Careful-” 

But before he could actually voice it, instinctively he stopped to catch her as her shoes slipped. Her little squeezed scream paired with her movements as she gripped his arms for support. 

Levi, who was unfazed by her grip or the tricky winter ground, clicked his tongue, “I told you to be careful,” he said, but despite his words, his voice was calm and protective. 

“Ah, yes. My uniform isn’t really designed for a trip to the forest, is it?” she commented between chuckles, but they seemed mostly out of nerves because there wasn’t anything funny going on. 

Unfazed on the outside, Levi’s attention was fixed on his extended arms surrounding her frame but without touching her. She could easily grip any of his forearms for support, but he, who wasn’t a fan of physical contact, tried not to touch her. Not because he didn’t want to, but because he didn’t want to overstep. The only thought crossing his mind as she tried to get both of her feet on steady land was looking at her hands, imagining them around his. 

This could easily be a routine of theirs, him making sure she reached the ferry station safely as she came over to visit him. Walking side by side, fingers intertwined. But that was a daydream still far away, and Levi quickly realized this as she placed a hand on his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Well... not actually, it was more like a cheek against cheek as she pressed the side of her face against his and made a kissing sound without her lips actually touching his skin. 

He frowned and slightly pushed back, mostly out of surprise. 

“Oops, sorry-” she said cheekily, recalling both of them how they first met, “I forgot that tough-up soldiers don’t give kisses.” It was mockery. 

“Thank you, Captain.” 

Levi raised his right hand, taking it out of his pocket and imitated her wave back but with far less enthusiasm. Greeting with kisses, something that he had only seen between women but it seemed that in the capital it was also exchanged between men and women. He found it a bit too personal for his taste, but that was because he didn’t even shake hands usually. 

‘I’m a tough-up soldier... I’ll gladly receive a kiss from you.’ 

His hand lowered slowly as he observed her aboard, as an eagle his attention was inflexible. Levi didn’t realize he was holding his hand up until that moment, ‘what an idiot.’ 

But as his bare right hand began to feel the winter weather compared to how warm it was inside his pockets, the freezing air against his skin was a cold wash of reality; they didn’t walk holding hands, it was just a dream. ‘Four-eyes was right... I’m not even trying.’ 

For dreams to come true, you must wake up and work on real life. He was determined. Her welcoming smile from the ferry that began, and a new waving hand to him that was still waiting at the bottom, looking at her. 

“Cap!” She screamed. 

And he couldn’t help but smile very softly at the picture of her face from the top of the boat. 

“Enjoy the cake!” 

Levi’s smile dropped slowly, ‘Eventually I’ll have to fucking tell her that I don’t like sweet shit...’ 

‘Oh well... problems of future’s Levi.’ 

Since then, he was a man with a mission. ‘She asked me for a friend, so at least she doesn’t think I’m a fucking creep.’ 

Seeing the glass half full? That’s exactly what Levi was going to start to do. Baby steps. It’s not that he crossed paths with her continuously, especially when they were not going outside on expeditions. He began to do a mental list; Sweet stuff, flowers, cats, and allergic to nuts. He certainly could come up with something. 

‘Maybe I could write a letter... thank her for the cake.’ 

‘Let’s not carry on the idea that you like that, I don’t like to fucking lie to her.’ 

‘Wouldn’t it be weird that you wrote a letter out of nowhere? Plus, what the hell are you going to write there? ‘Thanks for the cake, I don’t like it, but Hange did.’ No, no, let’s leave the letters to poets and their smooth shit.’ 

And so on, he wished he was as decisive as he was in battle in his romantic life. But as soon as he saw his chance, Levi was confident about taking it. Military event, the weather had gotten better, they were about to leave for an expedition in a couple of days. Had he protected the piece of cake that he was given at the end of the dinner with his life from Hange? Yes, an easier task was retaking Wall Maria. 

“Come on! You’re not going to eat it!” 

“I’ve seen Titans less persistent than you.” 

Levi felt particularly judged walking down the hallways as he switched buildings of the military and went to the main hospital. MPs recognized him in the streets, citizens whispered his name, and he felt a ginormous power to turn around and forget it all. 

‘This is stupid.’ 

‘Well, sometimes you gotta do some stupid shit to get what you want ... I just wished I did this sort of stupid shit when I was young enough to be too hormonal or drunk to care.’ 

“Y/N?” he asked at the front desk, “Is she on service?” 

The other two girls exchanged a look, one took a sip of her tea to hide her raising smirk and the other replied, “Give me a minute, Captain.” 

She rushed behind to the staff-only section and Levi felt particularly impatient. ‘What the hell am I going to tell her? I got a piece of cake and thought of you? No, that’s ridiculous. Then why the fuck am I doing here?! I don’t know!’ 

“Captain?” her voice, her almost closed eyes as she tried to force them open, her hair messy. 

‘I want to see her... I want to see her before I leave to that hell out there.’ 

“Captain, is everything alright?” She asked worriedly, as she moved between the furniture of the hospital’s archive. Her hands hastily tried to ease out her clothes. 

‘Fucking shit...’ he imagined her waking up by his side, drowsy, bed hair and tossed clothes. But as she grew closer, he grew speechless. 

“Is everything alright? Is it an emergency?” Her worried tone made him snap. 

“Yes,” “No,” he replied monosyllabically. 

“Then... what are you-” 

“For you,” Levi acted almost instinctively, pushing the gift in her direction. “No nuts so I don’t fucking kill you.” 

Her lips remained parted while processing the situation, once sense came back into her, she slowly accepted the gift. “Why thank you...” she said in a trance, “Did something happen, Captain-” 

“Levi.” 

“Huh?” 

“My name is Levi.” 

He dodged the question. And while he felt it was only him and her there as her eyes shined in surprise, the truth is that people walked past by them in a hurry to fulfil their tasks. 

“You... you’re leaving, right?” she broke the awkward silence, “To an expedition, I mean.” 

Levi nodded. 

“I hope you return safe. I’ll volunteer to the medical brigade for the return.” 

The mere idea of her waiting at the improvised medical camp they always had to check the soldiers and help the wounded once they returned from outside the walls was enough to make him excited and hopeful. Both necessary emotions when you’re going to face death. 

‘That’ll be a hell of a blessing.’ 

“You’ll be useful there,” Levi replied. 

He knew it was almost disrespectful to be waiting for it; his comrades died, mothers lost their sons, kids lost their mothers. Everyone had their expectations of him, but he was only human. A man who wanted to just catch at least a glimpse of his girl’s face to make it seem like returning from hell had some sort of value. 

Once most of the soldiers had been cared for, Levi searched through the crowd, peeking through the people, getting on his tiptoes to get some height to spot her. 

‘There you are.’ He felt second-hand embarrassment for how excited he got, but as he took steady steps closer, the emotions withdrew slowly. 

Her eyes were reddish and transparent, long face and trembling lips. 

‘No... why are you crying? Who do I have to kill? Give me a name.’ 

Knuckles of a bigger hand began to caress her cheek. She looked up as his knuckle turned into his thumb, softly loving her face. He was dressed in a white overall that clearly indicated he was a doctor. 

‘Who the hell is he?’ Levi quickly felt the anger boiling. He knew he was being irrational, but he had just come back from risking his life; his mind was not seeing reason. 

“Is this a museum?” the doctor, who seemed younger than Levi anticipated, asked cheekily. 

Y/N looked up at him confused. ‘Why the fuck is he so hella tall?’ 

“Then what are two art pieces doing here, you,” as he said that, Y/N gasped, blushed, and smiled shyly, “And that smile.” 

‘He made her smile... he made her smile and blush.’ 

Levi’s steady pace up to them lost its confidence. She noticed him and smiled softly, welcoming, but that didn’t make the Captain feel better. The doctor realized his presence and probably decided to carry on with the rest of his tasks, not without moving past her by dragging his hand across the bottom of her back and giving her waist a little squeeze as he smiled. 

“Levi, I’m so happy you made it back.” 

But those words and her friendly squeeze of his forearms went unnoticed as Levi’s surgical observation caught all that, and he couldn’t hide his unfriendly stare at the man. 

‘Cut your fucking hand off and feed it to pigs before touching her like that without her permission.’ 

— 

“I don’t like the asshole.” 

“You don’t like him, or you’re just jealous he’s charming?” Hange asked as they spun around in their desk chair. “Or that he’s almost as tall as Erwin.” 

“Tch, I don’t like the asshole. Nothing to do with that frivolous shit.” 

‘Perhaps a little bit.’ 

Hange chuckled and rolled their eyes. “Your reasons?” 

Levi rose from his seat, exasperated, walking around the brunette’s office like a caged lion. “Do I have reasons? Yeah. Good reasons? Yeah. How many reasons do I need? None. My intuition has never failed me to spot out jerks.” 

Suddenly, now that he was back to work and had excuses to visit her more frequently, he was always there. The way he always found a way to rest his hand on the bottom of her back right above her ass, squeeze her waist friendly, run a hand through her hair, smile at her. 

“Doesn’t he have better shit to do?” Levi muttered annoyed, observing from a distance at how he said something that made her laugh. 

“Well, he’s at his job,” Erwin replied, mocking him as the captain’s attitude seemed childish. 

“I love how your hair looks in that,” the doctor casually commented. 

It ate Levi from the inside how she began to make it her usual look. ‘That’s the kind of shit you should’ve been saying, but you’re stupid!’ 

Levi hated it. It made him grit his teeth in uncontrolled fury how she always smiled with blushed cheeks and hopeful eyes as she looked at him. ‘She’s just too naive and doesn’t fucking notice that he’s obviously trying to take advantage.’ 

“You’re just jealous; it won’t hurt you to admit it.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, muttering against the hand that held his head, “He fucking stinks, he just wants to get between her legs.” 

“Like you?” Hange joked around as they raised their eyebrows and smirked at their friend. 

“Tch,” he straightened up, offended. “Don’t fucking compare me to him.” 

‘I mean, yes... but no!... I’ll do it respectfully.’ 

One thing was Capital people being too frivolous about their personal space, and another was that Levi always caught him playfully around another girl. 

‘The dude has more hands than an octopus, and none of them are ever over his own fucking body.’ 

The mere idea of him taking advantage of her, of her kindness, made Levi clench his fist. It was very early; Levi had just come out of an extraordinary meeting with the military board that lasted all night long. 

Perhaps he should have given it a thought when he had slept better, not that he slept plenty, but at least he knew how to normally function with three hours of sleep. It was too early to get any transport back to the scout's facility, so he was just doing time as Erwin talked to investors. On the other hand, she was a fresh early bird working at her position quietly as it was a calm morning. 

She seemed radiant, rosy cheeks and smooth hair... hair in the same style he had praised. ‘For fuck's sake,’ it rubbed him the wrong way. 

“Oi,” Levi decided to interrupt her monologue; he was slacked against a wall, bent slightly over with arms crossed. ‘Show her that you care,’ Hange's words echoed in his mind. 

“Yes?” She was archiving paperwork and organizing reports. 

“That asshole... one of the doctors in your division.” 

“Matty?” She quickly filled in the information, “What about him? Do you need him?” Her attention briefly moved to the clock on the wall, “He won’t be here until later on; he had the night shift today.” 

Levi clicked his tongue, looking in another direction, ‘she doesn’t even suspect him.’ 

“No,” he spat out, “Look, keep your guard up around him. Don’t be stupid.” 

Y/N turned around confused, her eyebrows drawn together in mixed emotions. 

‘I’m just trying to protect you.’ 

Levi felt her attention. His steps echoed around the whitish walls of the empty hospital, keeping his head down as he approached. “I’m just saying that stupid little spoiled brats from the Capital like you sometimes don’t realize it, but morons like him aren’t playing friendly.” 

“Excuse me? What did you say?” 

That was the moment Levi should have noticed the change in her tone and the frown switching from confused to angry. 

The click of his tongue was mostly because he didn’t know how to phrase it better, “I’m just saying, dummy,” he swore his tone was caring as his calloused hand from continuous hours of training reached out to caress her forearm tenderly, “that you may be too stupid for your own good and be all nice and friendly, but don't be stupid and do what I tell you." 

‘I care about you and I know firsthand how those assholes abuse their power around girls. I’ll beat the living shit out of him if he ever makes you feel uncomfortable.’ 

Levi swore he had been tender. He wished to run his thumb over her cheek and show her how she could rely on him, how much he was there for her, for her safety. 

“Captain,” Y/N’s tone made Levi snap up as he had his attention focused on his hand that was trying to connect with her, “Who the hell gave you the authority to tell me who I should get involved with?” 

“Ehm-” 

Levi took a step back, confused, as she looked back at him with anything but friendliness. 

“I’ve lived alone my entire life, I have a career, and the last thing I need is a man telling me that I’m too stupid for my own good,” she said, arms resting on her hips as her angry eyes burned into his. 

The cold water’s shock made any quick reply he had to fix the misunderstanding completely vanish, “No—” 

“I respect you for your work and because you’re a close friend of Erwin. But you’re not my father, nor my boss, to tell me what to do and, much less, that I don’t know how to take care of myself,” Y/N snapped a couple of folders on the desk, “If you’re looking to control someone’s life, I recommend adopting a dog. I have work to do. Have a nice day.” 

Levi stood there frozen in his place, perplexed. ‘Wait... is it wrong that I found it hot that she knows how to tell people to fuck off?’ 

“Fuck —” 

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @galactict3a @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime @hagridshaircare Wanna join my tag list? Here! You don't appear on this list? Do not worry! there's a limit of tags and I'll add you in the comments <3

[theetherealbloom]

CLOSE TO YOU

Summary: A commute crush turned meet cute with Pedro Pascal

Paring: Pedro Pascal x Fem!Reader

Warnings: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, Commute Crush, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Meet-Cute, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Alcohol, Club/Bar Setting

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Happy Close To You release day! I’ve waited for this song since 2018 LMAO. Usually, I don’t write about real-life people, but I really can’t help it since this song is SO Pedro Pascal-coded. Just know that this is fictional and if this isn’t for you, you don’t have to read it! Keep scrolling :> And for those who stay to read this delusion of a fic, hey girlieeee I see you <3 

P.S. I’ll be doing a bunch of fics related to Gracie’s new album that comes out next week!

Song: Close To You by Gracie Abrams

| Main Masterlist |

It all began as a harmless crush on your morning commute. The New York subway was your daily stage, a bustling backdrop as you headed to meet a client. As a social media coordinator, your days revolved around managing high-profile partnerships, coordinating with celebrities and Instagram influencers to craft campaigns that seamlessly blended their brands with consumer appeal. 

But today was different. And of course, you recognized him. 

You noticed him immediately – Pedro Pascal, seated right in front of you. Lost in his book, with a iced quad espresso in a venti cup with extra ice and six shots cradled in his hand, he exuded an effortless charm. His dark, curly hair framed those whisky eyes that glanced up and met yours. Just for a second, you were frozen in time, captivated by his gaze. You quickly looked away, not wanting to seem rude, yet feeling the familiar flutter of a crush brewing.

Did he smile? You swore he did, and your heart skipped a beat. The train doors opened, announcing your stop. Reluctantly, you stepped off, joining the throng of commuters spilling onto the platform. As you ascended the steps, the city's vibrant energy washed over you, but your mind was elsewhere.

Walking towards the restaurant for your client meeting, your thoughts kept drifting back to him. The way his presence ignited a spark within you, a longing that seemed almost irrational. Here you were, burning for a man who didn't even know your name. And yet, in the anonymity of the subway, a fleeting connection had stirred something deep inside you.

It had been a few weeks since that subway encounter, the memory of Pedro Pascal’s whisky eyes lingering in your mind. In the meantime, you had started managing social media for Sarah Paulson, whose busy schedule had her juggling multiple projects and interviews.

Sarah's latest project, a Broadway play titled Appropriate, was garnering critical acclaim and several award nominations. Your job was to promote her involvement, ensuring every post captured the essence of her talent and the play’s success. Though you hadn't been working with her long, you were pleasantly surprised when she invited you to watch one of her performances.

That night, you arrived early at the Belasco Theatre, adorned in your favorite long dress and practical flats, mindful of the commute back to your apartment. Ushered to a seat close to the front, you settled into the plush red velvet, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. As the audience trickled in, you busied yourself with casual texts to friends before putting your phone away, taking in the theatre's intricate architecture and the stage's grandeur.

Moments later, an usher guided someone to the seat next to you. Curiosity made you glance to your right, and there he was—Pedro Pascal, settling in beside you. Your eyes widened in recognition before you quickly looked away, a quiet panic bubbling in your stomach and tightening your chest. You fidgeted with your fingers, a nervous habit, trying to quell the flurry of emotions and resist the urge to stare.

As the house lights dimmed and the show began, you couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at him. The man who had unknowingly captured your heart was now mere inches away. The performance on stage was captivating, but you found yourself equally entranced by the man sitting next to you. In the soft glow of the theatre lights, you wondered if he remembered that brief moment on the subway, and if fate had just given you a second chance to connect.

When the show ended and the cast took their bows, the theatre erupted in applause. Pedro, sitting right next to you, cheered loudly when Sarah stood with the rest of the cast on stage. His genuine enthusiasm for his friend made you smile, and as you glanced at him, he looked down at you with a radiant grin. 

Your heart raced, and for a moment, you felt a concrete connection that was almost tangible. Both of you opened your mouths to speak, but just then, an usher cleared their throat, drawing your attention.

“Mr. Pascal, Sarah Paulson is asking for you backstage… if you would follow me, please,” the usher said, causing Pedro to hesitate, torn between staying with you and fulfilling his friend's request.

“Uh,” Pedro began, glancing between you and the usher. Seeing his dilemma, you made the decision for him. Gathering your things, you offered a polite smile to both Pedro and the starstruck usher.

As Pedro glanced back at the usher, you seized the moment to make your getaway. You might have heard him call out, "Wait!" but you didn't stop. Stepping out onto the bustling street, the city lights of Broadway twinkled around you, a stark contrast to the growing ache in your heart.

The possibility of what might have been gnawed at you, the fleeting connection slipping through your fingers. A voice in the back of your mind echoed doubts, whispering that you didn't quite belong in this world of beautiful, glamorous people. You tried to shake off the feeling, but the bittersweet sting lingered.

You begin to walk away from the theatre, weaving through the crowd lined up for autographs by the backstage door. Just as you're about to cross the street to catch your subway, your phone vibrates in your clutch. Stepping aside, you see Sarah Paulson’s name flashing on the screen.

Shit. 

You quickly answer, praying your voice doesn't betray your nerves. "Hello?"

"Hey!" Sarah's voice is warm and enthusiastic. "How are you? Did you enjoy the show?"

"Yeah, I did! You were absolutely incredible," you say, offering genuine praise and shifting your weight to your other leg.

"Thank you so much! Oh, where are you right now? Are you still nearby? I had told the usher to bring you backstage with Pedro, but it seems like they forgot."

"Oh, um, yeah, I'm near the backstage door," you reply, glancing at the crowd still waiting for autographs.

"Perfect! Some of us are going out for drinks later, and you are welcome to join us!" Sarah’s excitement is infectious.

You stammer, "Uh, I..."

"It'll be great! I promise. I'll introduce you to everyone. You're my best social media manager by far."

Taking a deep breath, you muster, "Okay, yeah, I'd love to come."

"Great! I'll send you the address of where we're headed. We'll meet you there!" Sarah says, her smile practically audible.

"Alright, see you soon." You end the call with a click, clutching your phone tightly as you take another deep breath to steady your nerves and keep the world from spinning.

A ping alerts you to a new message. Glancing at the notification, you read the address and know exactly where to go. With a mixture of excitement and anxiety, you put away your phone and head towards the bar, the city's lights guiding your way.

It took you a while to figure out how to get there, but eventually, you arrive at the bar. As you step inside, a warm hum fills your body, the lights and the pulse of music thrumming through the room. The smoky, dark atmosphere feels electric, bodies moving in a rhythm that seems to make the air itself burn. 

Under the soft pink light, everything seems slightly surreal, yet oddly perfect. You spot Sarah, who immediately pulls you into a warm hug, which you happily accept. As you exchange pleasantries near their table, you feel at ease, enjoying the camaraderie. 

Then, suddenly, you sense a shift. You glance up and see Pedro looking right back at you. Your heart skips a beat as your eyes meet, and in that instant, the crowded room seems to fade away. 

There he is, the man who had unknowingly captured your heart, his gaze steady and intense. As Sarah guides you over to introduce the rest of her friends, castmates, and of course, Pedro, you feel a pull between the two of you.

You muster the courage to speak, telling him your name, and even through the loud speakers and endless chatter, you hear him say your name with a breathless relief. Finally meeting the mystery girl he saw on the subway seems to have stirred something within him.

When you shake hands, there's a lingering touch, a silent acknowledgment of the connection between you. You can't help but duck your head a little, feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze. 

"Nice to finally meet you," Pedro says, his voice soft yet filled with warmth.

"Likewise," you reply, your own voice tinged with a hint of nervousness.

In that brief exchange, you both sense something unspoken, a silent understanding that this meeting is more than just chance. And as the night unfolds, amidst the laughter and music, you find yourself drawn to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of fate.

As Sarah goes to mingle with the rest of the group, you both stand there, caught in a moment suspended in time. The air crackles with anticipation, and you can't shake the feeling that if you asked him to, he'd give up everything just to be close to you.

"You have a way of lighting up a room," he says, his voice low and full of sincerity as he leans in closer.

A blush creeps up your cheeks at his words, and you find yourself smiling despite yourself. "And you have a way of making me feel like I'm the only one in it," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper.

As the night wears on, you find yourself completely enchanted by Pedro. His easy charm and quick wit captivate you, and it's as if the two of you are in your own little world, separate from the chaos of the club.

He tells you stories about his acting career and his passion for music. You share your dreams and aspirations, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence that you've never experienced with anyone before.

Throughout the night, there are moments where your hands brush against each other or your eyes meet in a lingering gaze. Each time it happens, a spark of electricity shoots through your body, igniting a fire within you.

At one point, he leans in closer to whisper in your ear over the loud music. "I have a confession to make," he says, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You turn to face him, your heart racing with anticipation.

He chuckles softly, the sound sending a delightful shiver down your spine. "I can't deny that you've caught my attention since the moment I saw you on the subway."

The admission sends your heart racing, and you can't help but feel a surge of boldness. "Funny, because you've been on my mind ever since," you confess, meeting his gaze with newfound confidence.

His eyes light up with a mixture of surprise and delight, and you can't help but be drawn to the way his lips curl into a playful smirk. "Is that so?" he teases, his voice a low, husky whisper that sends a shiver down your spine.

You nod, feeling a rush of exhilaration coursing through your veins. "Absolutely," you reply, unable to tear your gaze away from his captivating stare.

Before you can say another word, he takes a step closer, his movements slow and deliberate, like a dance choreographed just for the two of you. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand brushes against your neck, sending tingles of anticipation racing across your skin.

And then, in a moment that feels like it's been plucked straight from a romance film, his lips meet yours in a soft, tender kiss. Time seems to stand still as you melt into his embrace, the world around you fading away until there's nothing left but the two of you.

As you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, a sense of euphoria washes over you, like a chemical override in ultraviolet. "I just wanna be close to you," he murmurs, his words sending a thrill through your entire being. A smile dances at the corners of your lips as you revel in the electric connection between you.

"And you could be mine tonight," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tinged with a hint of playful flirtation.

He chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with affection as he leans in closer. "I think I could get used to being yours," he says, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity, melting away any lingering doubts or fears.

He can't wait to fall in love with you.

[sakuralovespossums]

Laios x GN Reader

Both SFW and NSFW

My autistic himbo golden retriever husband 💗

I feel like Laios would be interested in someone who shares a similar fascination with monsters and dungeon knowledge or just has a really curious/analytical way of seeing things like him.

He likes your way of thinking outside of the box when it comes to planning or creating new monster dishes.

He always considers your personal inputs and advice and writes them down along with his ideas and trivia.

He would also easily fall for someone who cooks a lot. He always looks forward to eating his partner’s food whenever he returns from his adventures down in the dungeons.

He takes notes of your cooking styles and ingredients for later use when coming up with new monster dishes.

Tends to hold you tightly whenever you sleep together. His large frame spooning over your smaller one, nearly suffocating you in his firm and warm hold. He then sleepily mumbles and nibbles your shoulder and neck, thinking it’s the meal he’s eating in his dream.

You find his nibbling almost comfortable and are almost lulled to sleep by it until he suddenly bites you.

He’ll profusely apologize the next morning.

He really likes carrying you.

Sometimes he’ll just casually pick you up and walk to another spot with you tucked between his armpit like a sack of flour.

Other times, when he’s really invested in talking about his trivia or interests and needs something to hold onto, he’ll lift you up by your hips and excitedly ramble in your face.

You just stare at him with a warm smile, listening to him prattle away.

Sometimes he won’t even notice he’s still carrying you until you or someone else mentions it.

Laios isn’t that invested in sex. He’s got better things to occupy his mind like dungeon trivia and food. But he’s also not opposed to it.

He’s a soft dom in bed who prioritizes both his and his partner’s safety and pleasure. He doesn’t engage in sex much though, so he can be kinda clumsy and hesitant.

“Is this ok?”

“Sorry! Should I…..go in slower?”

“You seem…..aghh…..to really like…ugh.…my chest.”

Once he feels more comfortable and confident, he’ll take the lead more and move faster, becoming lost in it all. Your body, smell, voice. The way you hold onto him so desperately with such affection and trust only drives him deeper into you.

He takes time to explore and taste every part of you. He will eat you out or give you head like a dehydrated wanderer upon discovering a sacred river.

He likes eating you out/giving head not just out of sexual desire but also out of curiosity. He’s always interested in trying any thing he can eat/drink, and you are no exception.

The way he makes love is so overwhelming and smothering, yet never domineering or too intense. He wants you and all your parts to feel cared for.

He moans loudly, much to his embarrassment.

Post climax, I feel like he either stares up at the ceiling/sky for a while to slowly regain his bearings or he just instantly falls asleep. Either way he never lets go of you.

He is 100% the kind of person who tests out if eating certain foods will make your juices taste different.

“I heard that eating this dungeon fruit can sweeten the taste of your cum/semen!”

He tells you this in front of the others, much to their horror and your embarrassment.

At times he’ll stare at you for a while before giving you a quick kiss and walking away, leaving you a bit dumbfounded.

Other times he’ll pepper your whole face with a barrage of kisses. He does this most when you’re sitting in his lap.

I feel like Laios also makes sure to kiss other parts on your body where you least expect as his way of showing love to your other parts that are often ignored but deserve just as much attention as your face and lips do (ankles, wrists, nails, eyelids, ear lobes, knee caps, chin, etc.)

You try to surprise him with your own quick kisses but never can because of the height difference lmao.

He just stares confused at you standing on your tiptoes, your puckered up lips trying to reach his cheek.

“………….Oh! You wanna give me a kiss!”

Picks you up. Kiss. Puts you back down.

“There we go!”

Pets your head and walks off.

He can be dense and not catch onto the social mood of the moment, leading him to sometimes say things that may sound insensitive or inappropriate (same).

That’s just something you’ll have to accept and learn to recognize.

Just let him know when he’s said something that genuinely upset you and he’ll apologize.

[eroticcaa]

tags: none!

I got the yellow eyed idea from the blog fhrlclln! Idk if she mind being tagged, but please check out her blog and some of her fics!

They say when the devils come, your flesh will burn and blister. Turning into ash. Wives will dance in gowns of fire. Laughing. Shrieking. As they burn, lewd and naked underneath the flames. You shall see children weeping, weeping. Till their eyes melt and slide down like jelly. Till their pink flesh falls back and crackling comes from their bones.

The strangers come, he comes, she comes. To scourge us for our sins. Tears can not quench the flames. Tears can not quench the thirst of a dragon. Only blood.

His blood. Her blood.

Fire and blood.

Blood and fire.

༯༯༯

He thought you were a sleeping beauty, with the way you laid, still, in the glass coffin shaped box. Hands neatly placed and folded over your mid-section, hair placed perfectly framing your face. A light baby blue hue shined down on you making your skin glow. You looked well groomed and dressed. He guessed the Jedi really do care for their own. Yet he snickered at the thought. Yeah, right. His fingers lightly traced over the top of the glass, directly over your body. His mask amplifies his breathing as it increases, as his fingers travel upwards, your breathing increases and becomes in sync with his, body twitching and jerking along with his fingers. As if you were one.

Your brows drew together in a wince of aggression.

Why? Why were they disturbing you? You just wanted to sleep.

No. You need to Wake. Up.

You gasped as your eyes snapped open, your harsh breathing making the glass fog up as you locked eyes with the masked intruder. Under the mask, his lips stretched into a smirk as he looked into your yellow eyes with blood red around the edges.

“You’re a gorgeous little thing, aren’t you?” He whispered.

You blinked and he was gone. Like he wasn’t even there to begin with. Your breathing got worse. No. No. Come back. Please. You ached to see the masked stranger again and you didn’t know why. Your breathing got worse and you blinked again hoping they would come back but a new face appeared in your field of vision. Her face.

can you only notice I’ve been watching HOTD? ‾̀◡‾́.

I’ve recently just finished the acolyte series and omg it was so good. I usually don’t watch Star Wars series or anything related to it cuz I always fall asleep or I’m confused lmao. BUT the acolyte… *mwah* chefs kiss.

pls like, comment and reblog [if ya want!]. might turn this into a little series. Nothing like fine men and dragons ˘ڡ˘.

© EROTICCAA 2024. DO NOT MODIFY, USE IN AI, COPY, TRANSLATE, REPOST OUTSIDE OF TUMBLR OR CLAIM MY WORK AS YOUR OWN.

[seokgyuu]

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.

[edgeray]

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :)  Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words 

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru. 

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door. 

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt. 

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again. 

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.” 

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.” 

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”  

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out. 

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words. 

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was. 

Right? 

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell. 

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible. 

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face. 

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips. 

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you. 

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence. 

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.” 

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice. 

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully. 

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you. 

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it. 

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face. 

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?” 

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent. 

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them. 

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?” 

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…” 

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance. 

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress. 

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away. 

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets. 

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.” 

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?” 

“Perhaps.” 

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate. 

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them. 

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead. 

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?” 

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?” 

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” 

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire. 

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?” 

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair. 

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children. 

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties. 

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.” 

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way? 

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…” 

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.” 

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.” 

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin. 

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful. 

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you. 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you. 

[empresskylo]

hai hai!! i have some cod nsfw headcanons ^_^ hope you don’t mind i just have brainworms that need to be let out

price has a MASSIVE (pun intended) size kink. he loves having your small frame beneath him, just manhandling you everywhere >_<

simon is actually really gentle. he definitely has dacryphilia, but the first time you started crying during the act, he got so scared :’( you had to reassure him you were alright ! now he can be more rough, even downright mean at times .

gaz looks like the most ‘proper’ of the 141, but he’s freaky !!! he’s really into degradation and praise, and he’s a huge ass man idc idc ! but he’d also spend hours with body worship just taking care of u

soap’s favorite position is cowgirl / just you riding him, he loves seeing his dog tags dangle between ur tits, holding your hips and just having you on top :p

aah that’s it sorry for spam </3 love your writing

I NEVER MIND HEADCANONS ARE WE KIDDING?!!!

price having a size kink makes my brain malfunction. like i neeeeeed that man. i’m so sorry but i also feel like he’d have a bit of an age gap kink. he’s not that old—he’s like what? late 30s early 40s??—but he secretly really likes dating someone way younger than him. the fact that irl i’m like oh ew gross at those kind of men! but in fiction, i’m like i want that man down bad and obsessed with the fact that he’s larger and older than you. need him to feel like he’s taking advantage of you: being older, bigger, and in higher power, and he hates how much he gets off on that.

no im obsessed with simon being a gentle lover. the thing is, i love him soft and rough, so combining it is just 😩 him being so sweet and slow and gentle at first, but once you convince him you’re ok with him being rough, my man goes a little crazy. he loves to leave bruises on you. loves to degrade you (“look how easily you spread your legs for me. pathetic.” “beg for it, love”). loves to toss you around like you’re nothing. loves seeing your eyes water when he’s just pounding the shit out of you, the way you struggle to form coherent words. if you don’t have tear stains by the time he’s done, he clearly didn’t do his job right. but that’s not every time.. he’s still gentle and takes his time and whispers sweet praises in your ear in between. like UMMMFFF.

gaz is younger (and acts like it) so ofc he’s freaky. i don’t think he gets too weird with it or too obscure in his kinks, but he definitely likes to try new things. he lovesssss to talk dirty, watching you get flustered beneath him from just his words is his favorite thing. and my guy lovessss eating puss lmao. he definitely texts you randomly “please let me come over and go down on you. i just miss you so much.” like he straight up doesn’t expect anything in return, he just likes to get off by pleasing you and needs to taste you or he’ll lose his marbles.

i feel like entire fandom has all agreed soap likes it when his girl is on top 🤪 and they’re right!!! he is most definitely and without a doubt, a boob guy. so watching them bounce as you ride him sends him into aerospace. he is obsessed with watching you work yourself on top of him. and he can be dominant when he wants, but a lot of the time he likes when you take charge. he goes crazy when you shove his chest back down as he tries to sit up and you just mercilessly ride him until he’s a whimpering mess.

thank you for this, anon. i always love seeing other peoples headcanons <3

[skyeet-the-writer]

The One With the Girl from Canada

while im cleaning out my drafts, here's something from a few months ago. i really like this and i've written and are currently writing some more little chapters, so be on the lookout for them!! this is also posted on my ao3 if you want to go read it there too :) chandler bing x female!reader summary: new york city is a big place for a girl who lived in canada her entire life, but you manage. one afternoon, while getting some work done in a cozy coffee shop, a very handsome brunette asks to sit beside you. who are you to tell him no? word count: ~2.3k warnings: none i don't think lmao that never happens next>

Central Perk is a special spot for Chandler Bing. That's where he talks with his friends, it's where they all relax, it's where he met Rachel just a couple of months ago, coming in wearing a wedding dress and looking highly frazzled. It's got a nice, calming atmosphere, pretty good coffee, and the absolute best spot in all of Manhattan.

The area with the couch is where he and his friends always sit. Sometimes he feels bad for taking it, but nobody seems to mind, ever. And so he always sits there, usually on the couch when it is available.

When he walked into Central Perk one afternoon after work, he just wanted to grab a coffee and wait for the rest of his friends to show up eventually. He didn't expect there to be anyone there, no one ever was at this time on a Thursday.

But then he saw someone sitting in his spot.

Normally, he would have been upset, probably ask them to leave, nicely, of course, and pray to God that they left because he hates confrontation.

However, the person sitting in his spot was probably the most beautiful person he had ever seen. She looked like she had been there for a few hours, at least, because there was an empty plate with crumbs on it and a large mug drained, both sitting on the coffee table her feet were propped up on.

For a moment, Chandler stood at the counter and stared at her like some kind of creep. He had never seen her around and he knew he'd remember if he did. She wore gray jeans rolled up at the ankles to show off her colorful socks underneath a pair of black and white Converses. As his eyes traveled up her frame, he saw her wearing some kind of band tee and a tiny, silver necklace around her neck. She seemed to be writing something and, from what Chandler could tell, she seemed to be deep into thought. Her pencil scratched across the notebook and every so often, she would pause and read over it before promptly erasing something and writing once more.

He heard his name being said and turned around to see Guther holding out a coffee cup to him.

"Oh, thanks, Gunther," he told the worker, taking the coffee from him.

Chandler had never been good at talking to girls and more often than not chickened out on the opportunity to do so. But he didn't want to chicken out on talking to you.

And so, with confidence, he walked over to the area he always sat at and stood just beside the couch, next to your arm that was leaning on the armrest.

Before now, he didn't notice the headphones around your ears and the Walkman that sat beside you, but when he clears his throat and you don't react, he understands why. And so, again and a little bit louder, he clears his throat, gently tapping on your shoulder.

Your eyes tear away from the page in your lap at the touch of another person and you whip your head up to see a man standing beside you, looking at you with a smile. Perhaps too loudly, you exclaim, "Oh, shit, sorry!" and hastily pause your music and let the headphones rest around your neck. You blink up at the man and ask, "Yes?"

"I, uh." Chandler swallows thickly because even your voice is one from a dream. "You're, uh, kind of in my spot."

With a mischievous smile, you turn around in your seat like you're looking for something. "Oh, word? I don't see your name on it."

And then you smile at him snarkily and Chandler forgets how to breathe. But then he laughs, a bit awkwardly. Your sarcastic grin fades into a true one and you add, "Don't worry, I'll move."

When you start to gather your things, Chandler is quick to put a stop to it. He doesn't want you to move, not now, not ever. Not when he's just started to talk to you. "No, no, you're fine, I'm just kidding."

You stop your movements and look up at him. "Oh, alright. You can sit next to me, though."

Chandler doesn't have to be told twice. He sits beside you on the opposite side of the couch and takes a drink of his coffee like that will do anything to cure his jitters.

"What's your name?" you ask him, setting your notebook in your lap for just a moment. You wonder if he wants to have a conversation, but not many people in New York do.

He answers, "Chandler."

"Nice to meet you, Chandler. I'm y/n."

God, even your name sounds like something from a song.

"It's nice to meet you, too, y/n." He takes notice of the notebook in your lap and feels the urge to ask, "Mind if I ask what you're writing?"

With another grin, you say, "What if I did?"

Chandler can only wonder if your smile is contagious because he feels his lips curl upwards. "I mean, I'd still ask. I'm nosey."

You laugh and tilt your notebook for him to read. "It's a screenplay I'm writing."

Chandler's eyes widen. "You're a screenwriter? What, you make movies and stuff?"

"I wish." You scoff and feel a slight heat rise to your cheeks. "No, I write stories for movies and stuff. At least, I try."

"Is it not going so well?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Some studio called me up a few months ago, said they liked the idea I submitted and gave me a few months to come up with a first draft. And I've got two more weeks to finish it, so we'll see."

"I'm sure it's great," Chandler says and he means it. He can't write for shit, but something about you seems so...creative and special. "Even if I just met you."

You laugh again and close the notebook, stashing it away in the tote bag that rests on the floor. "Thanks, really."

"Of course." When you turn your body to face him, he sees what band is on your shirt and, even though he knows who it is, he asks, "What band is that?"

When he points to your chest, you look down and answer, "Oh, Nirvana."

"Oh, my God, I love them!"

"Really?" Your face breaks into a grin and you lean forwards a little. "What's your favorite song."

"'Heart-Shaped Box'," he says.

"Oh, that's good. I like 'Come As You Are'."

Soon, the conversation seems to flow quite naturally between the pair of you. He tells you about his boring job, something with a bunch of numbers and nothing exciting. You both compare bands and he realizes you're much more into rock and alternative works, but he guessed that the second he saw the leather jacket that rests beside you.

Joey is the first to arrive. Chandler glances up at the door when he hears the bell above it jingle and sees his roommate falter at the sight of you. You're not looking, rummaging through your tote bag for something and Chandler's eyes widen at the sight of the other person. If Joey flirts with you, Chandler will kill him.

Joey, clearly not catching on to Chandler's look from across the cafe, sees you and smirks, walking over.

"Hey, Chandler," he greets but doesn't look at his friend, eyes settling on you. "Who's, uh, your friend?"

You turn up at the sound of another person and spot the Italian-American smiling at you. You smile back and say, "I'm y/n."

"How you doin'?" Joey smirks and sits himself down on the high stool beside you. "I'm Joey."

"Hi, Joey," you reply, glancing at Chandler who quickly wipes the glare from his face and smiles at you. "You guys know each other?"

"We're roommates," he answers, motioning at his friend who is still staring at you.

You blink and shift in your seat. "Oh."

"I like your shirt," Joey says.

"You like Nirvana, too?" Your face brightens and Chandler almost melts.

But then his roommate says, "Who?"

And that look on your face is gone. Your smile falls and you look away back into your tote, mumbling, "Never mind."

Chandler meets his friend's eyes and shakes his head twice, brows furrowed. Joey always gets the girl. Chandler deserves to hope, at least.

You pull out a packet of gum and open it. You take a piece out and unwrap it before offering one to Chandler. He smiles and takes it, popping it in his mouth and shoving the wrapper in his pocket.

"Want some gum?" you ask the other man with darker and messier hair.

He takes one and thanks you. You return it with a grin and put the gum back in your tote, on top of your notebook.

Joey says your name and you look at him. "So, you live around here?"

You nod. "Yeah, I live in Hell's Kitchen."

"Oh, cool, cool. How long have you lived here? You grew up in New York?"

Immediately, you shake your head. "Oh, no, no, I didn't grow up here."

"Where'd you grow up?" Chandler asks, tilting his head

"Winnipeg," you answer, biting back a smile.

Chandler's brows furrow and Joey asks, "Where's that?"

"Manitoba." Your straight cracks a bit and you try to fight the smile that wants to paint itself across your lips.

Joey looks lost and asks again, "...Where's that?"

"Canada," you tell him, fully grinning now.

Joey gasps and Chandler tries not to roll his eyes. He figured it out when you said Manitoba. He says, "You're from Canada?"

You nod, turning your head to look at him. "Yep."

"Do you speak French?" Joey asks, touching your arm, clearly already friendly with you.

Turning to him, you answer, "Non."

Chandler laughs and you giggle, crossing one leg over the other.

"I speak Italian," Joey says.

You raise a brow. "Yeah?"

He nods and leans forward in his chair, smirking. "Sei bellissima."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're beautiful," he answers, voice a little lower than it was before.

Some heat rushes up your neck and you look away at your lap. "Oh."

Chandler glares at his friend, but Joey doesn't catch it.

Thankfully, before Chandler reaches over you to choke Joey, the bell dings and he glances at the door. Monica, Ross, Phoebe, and Rachel are walking in and while the rest of his friends make their way over, Rachel immediately goes to clock in for her shift.

They walk over and greet the other two and Phoebe is the first to address you. "Oh, wow, you're pretty."

You laugh out loud, blushing even harder at the compliment from a woman, touching your necklace. "Thank you. I like your skirt."

Phoebe giggles and swishes her skirt. "Thanks."

"This is y/n," Chandler introduces you to his friends.

"Hey." You lift your hand in a wave of sorts, feeling like you're butting in on their group. You should leave, but in a minute. You don't want to be rude.

Chandler's friends introduce themselves--Ross, Monica, and Phoebe, you repeat their names in your head to remember better--and then he gestures towards the coffee bar. "And the girl over there is Rachel."

"It's nice to meet you guys," you say politely, squeezing your hands in your lap.

"You too." Monica smiles. "I love your shirt, by the way."

"Thanks." You grin, basking in all the compliments.

Ross looks at Monica and asks, "You listen to Nirvana?"

Monica fixes him with a look. "Yes, because I'm cooler than you."

You chuckle at their interaction when Joey suddenly blurts out, "Ask her where she's from!"

You giggle at the man's antics and look at the others.

Ross smiles and asks, "Alright. Where are you from?"

"Winnipeg," you reply, still smiling. Chandler thinks he's going to swoon.

Monica is the first to figure it out. "You live in Canada?"

You nod. "I mean, I used to. I moved to Hell's Kitchen a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh, my god, so you just moved here," Chandler says.

"Why did you move all the way from Canada down to here?" Ross wonders.

"I'm a screenwriter and ended up getting a job down here," you answer. "Besides, Canada is boring, so I was looking for a change of scenery."

"Well, how do you like it here so far?" Phoebe asks.

You shrug. "It's pretty nice. A little colder, somehow, but I like it. There are a lot more people and a lot more things to do and see. I lived in Winnipeg my entire life so I kind of felt like I saw everything."

"I've always wanted to go to Canada," Rachel says, coming to hand out coffee.

You smile. "It's nice. Alberta is really pretty."

Mustering up some courage, Chandler says, "Hey, if you ever need someone to show you around the city, I'll be happy to help you."

And then you look at him and grin, nodding. "That'd be sick."

He feels heat start to creep up his cheeks, and he smiles back. "Awesome."

You look at the time on the clock and say, "I've got to head out, but it was great to meet you guys."

"Yeah, you too!" Monica says.

Taking a Post-it note from your bag, you write down your number and hand it to Chandler. He takes it and tries not to stare at it too hard. "Hope to catch you guys later."

Chandler's friends wave to you and you walk out the door, shrugging your jacket on before walking off. Chandler stares at the window for several seconds after you're gone and only snaps out of it when Monica says something.

"Chandler, how the hell did you get her number?"

He shrugs, looks at the bright blue Post-it note, and reads it.

here :) (xxx-xxx-xxxx)

He smiles and puts it in his pocket, trying to ignore the looks his friends are giving him. You're very cool and very pretty and Chandler can't wait to see you again.

[anantaru]

so guys 🙋🏻‍♀️🌸 i have finished the entire new quest at last and omg 👼🏼 like this was outstanding!! you see, what i really enjoy about star rail is that it gives me similar vibes to hi3 in terms of the darkness in the plot, since hi3 is my favorite hoyo game i always love seeing stuff from it or just similar instances. SO YOU KNOW FOR A FACT I WAS SO HYPED WHEN ACHERON SHOWED UP 🤺 especially with the hi3 story with kiana as the mc being over and although i still love hi3 the most, kiana, mei and bronya, that trio, they were all the best characters together AAAARGHHH I SWEAR AND JUST THE ENTIRE STORY LINE WAS SOOO GOOD, I miss them all together as a trio and especially kiana, the best hoyo MC FOR LIFE. 🙋🏻‍♀️🩷

also 🤠 ^^ that frame with sunday and dr ratio like 😙😙 WAS SO FUNNY I HAD TO SS IT. 🤺

the amount of cutscenes we got to see again was so fun, it felt like watching a movie slowly unfold while you got to be a part of it 🩷 you can tell that hoyoverse gets better and better with each update on whatever game and that the cutscenes are always so well done (i always liked them but the constant upgrades ??? insane) 🙏🏻

+ the acheron one shotting aventurine lmao 🧎🏻‍♀️ it was my favorite though ngl HAHA 🙋🏻‍♀️🩷 no matter how much i like aventurine as a character, MEI OMG MEEEIIIIII 👹🩷 SHE WILL FOREVER BE MY LOVE LIKE I KNOW ITS ACHERON BUT YOU GET WHAT I MEAN !!!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️ LIKE THE CUTSCENE WITH HER HORNS OH MY GOOOD THE NOSTALGIA LIKE YES GO OFF SHOW THEM

also guys, idk but aventurine's boss fight, 🤠 i personally expected more like it was so easy to beat ?! I THOUGHT I WOULD STRUGGLE BUT HE DIED PRETTY QUICKLY BUT ITS FINE, I STILL LIKE HIS CHARACTER 🌸🙋🏻‍♀️. + i was happy hoyoverse showed us his backstory and took their time to flash it out and not gloss over it in idk one/two scenes, but they really took their time with it which was amazing 🩷

also jade looks so cool as well! the design is very pretty and i can't wait to see diamond too, or the rest of the ten stonehearts but they're hyping diamond up so much like another emanator?? yes please, i'm all in🧎🏻‍♀️🩷

this entire quest gave me movie vibes, you were on edge the entire time and even during side quests you had to take, it was still very intense. it actually took me quite a bit to finish it of course since i'm someone who doesn't skip dialog, but it was so worth it and the best way to relax after a long day of moving my body 🩷 just laying in bed, playing while drinking tea!!

what i wanted to say too, guys honestly sunday is not okay HAHAHAHAHAHAH 🌝 I MEAN LIKE you guys🧎🏻‍♀️, that shiver in his voice at times and you can tell he low-key doesn't even know how to handle all of that either, of course, for one he looks like everything is accounted for while in the other, he sounds like he's losing his mind and can we blame him ???? when he went "why did you kill her" and lowkey cussed gallagher out i was like damn 🤠 okay 😏 HAHA + i'm somebody that doesn't think too much about theories, instead i love eagerly waiting for the next patch!! so i'm excited for what's coming 🩷 + robin's song slaps.

last but not least 🤺 you see, gallagher wasn't really somebody i was very interested in, but damn the second he turned dangerous and spicy i went oh my oh hey what's up ?? 😏 giggles HAHA LIKE WHAT IS IT ABOUT MEN WHO ARE JUST SUDDENLY EVIL AND IDK MAYBE HE ISNT COMPLETELY RIGHT AAAAAA OOOOO UUUU WWWWW AAAAA but anyways, 🌸 the last cutscene low-key hurt me like what do you mean sunday gets off screened while i was saving up for him for what? 👹 ever since fuxuan like how can you do this to me + no way they're dead dead 🤠because the last conversation aventurine had with acheron was very important to the next patch i'm pretty sure! 🩷

all in all guys!! 🩷 this quest was beautifully done, it had a lot of hard, dark stuff and it reminded me a lot of hi3, that's why i give it a 10/10, very well done. 🌸🩷

[fillinforlater]

Eleven to One: Boundless Breeding

Male Reader x Kang Hyewon

Length: 2344 words

Tags: the definition of breeding, various positions, Master play, dom/sub dynamic, rough sex with impregnation, teasing, spanking, begging, riding, doggy, mating press, multi orgasm, overstimulation, a lot of insults and degradation, Daddy kink, preggo!Hyewon

TW: Breeding kink, but with consequences, degradation, allusions to Master/Slave dynamic / Hyewon being owned

Inspiration: @sooyadelicacies and I mentioned this in "Torrential Takeover" and now... we made it come true. I think OC made sure that Hyewon is REALLY pregnant lmao

Credit: @sooyadelicacies ofc, my co-writer for the series!

(A/N: This takes place right after "Punitive Punishment", and this time, we wanted to make sure that it's not overboard in terms of length lol. Enjoy!)

"Hey! Daddy where are you—"

Yujin's whine is cut off by you slamming the apartment door shut. No time to deal with her now. In all honesty, she hasn't earned it yet. A night of no sex will show her that you are able to enforce a punishment. 

The elevator doors open and close. To stand in this tiny space, not being able to speed up the process or do something meaningful in between, it feels like a real-life loading screen. You roll your eyes. Doors open and close.

The car is not that much different. Sure, you are in full control and need to drive it yourself, but with all the experience you have and empty roads ahead, it's just more or less the same. A waste of time, something to groan over. Money can't buy a teleporter if it doesn't exist. A helicopter though, you think with a sigh.

It will be worth it though. Jump out of the car and sprint over to the tall apartment complex. It will be worth it soon. Another elevator ride, but this time you are too distracted by the tightness in your dress pants. It'll be so worth it. Loosen your tie and knock on the apartment door. So worth it.

"Master! I'm so happy you came!"

What a surprise. A surprise that was definitely worth it. 

Hyewon, powerful idol, business woman, CEO—her rise has been steep and it was always evident in her new clothes. From the unique idol costumes, to more expensive dresses and lastly, the suits with ridiculous price tags. She probably wore a new, hand tailored one every day.

But now, for you, it's all different. Hyewon wears a gray hoodie, at least a size too big for her slender frame, as well as a pair of dolphin shorts. Her hair is in a simple ponytail, messy but not completely out of control. Excitedly, she sways from one leg to the other and plays with the hem of her hoodie. 

"I did not expect my slut to look this... casual," you murmur after catching your breath. With every step you take into the apartment, Hyewon backs off more and more. She is diligent to keep a respectful distance between herself and her master. 

"Master, you don't like it? I'm so sorry! I will immediately change into—"

"I didn't say that," you laugh and take a quick step to close the distance. A glass door right behind Hyewon prevents her from keeping the distance, so you relish in her fearful, begging, needy eyes as you caress her tender cheek. She is smaller than you, but like this, she is downright tiny, miniscule, nothing. A hole, she admitted it herself. 

"Hm, but maybe a costume would be better. How about a cow or some bunny ears. That would be more fitting," you whisper and pinch her cheek. 

"Anything for Master, I'll get right to it," Hyewon says with fake enthusiasm that can't hide her uncertainty and mind-controlling, desperate desire. This otherworldly feeling of power over her, to control everything, down to the one final thing she wants, keeps you from taking her on the spot.

"No, too late. Get on your knees and crawl, bitch. I won't lie, I'm a bit disappointed thus far."

Hyewon is obedient. Her bare knees touch the cold floor and her hands follow suit. You open the class door and she gets the point. In a hurry she moves deeper into her open space apartment. 

"This place looks quite impressive. Who owns it?" you ask.

"Master does," Hyewon responds and continues to crawl closer to the couch area. 

You reach for your bitches shorts and yank them down. A firm, quick smack on her bare buttocks makes Hyewon squirm and wince. Literally nothing of her former power remains when you’re around. Hit her ass again just for that cute, submissive voice to return.

"M-Master..."

"This ass is not bad either. Who owns it?"

"My Master does. He owns all of me."

"Oh~" you hum with a smirk and sit down on one of the many couches you didn't even know you own. A snap of your fingers later, Hyewon wiggles herself in between your parted legs. The shorts around her thighs make every move difficult. 

"Hyewon," you say calmly, your smirk fading into a much more wholesome smile, "you can stand up and take them off. You are so tense, God, it's painful to watch. And not the sexy kind of pain."

"Th-thank you, Master."

Hyewon gets up and pulls off the black shorts from her gorgeous legs. You reach for her thighs and pull her closer. Her perfectly smooth, already moist pussy touches your knee, then your thigh. The fabric of your trousers rubs over her core and a pent-up moan comes from Hyewon's mouth. 

"My slut likes that, huh?" you say teasingly and softly nibble on her earlobe. Hyewon has not been touched since the fateful meeting that changed both your lives. Soon, you'll be one of the richest people in the country, from a millionaire CEO to a billionaire with a monopoly.

Meanwhile Hyewon went a very different path, from a prodigy of the business world to a toy that just wants to be filled with cum. Your cum, the stuffing you did not pump into her the last time. She wants it so badly.

"Hm, Master. It f-feels good."

"Good, then I'll make you cum."

A second of silence. Surprise and disappointment are in Hyewon's eyes, but she hesitates to open her mouth to speak up, instead she moans at your touch. You grab her waist gently and drag her body up and down your thigh. The friction on her pussy makes Hyewon whine.

"B-but I thought M-Master wanted—"

"No, you wanted it. You begged for it back then, but it looks like you've changed your mind."

Hyewon cups her mouth as her moans get louder. She certainly enjoys this already, probably even more so because of her deprivation for sex. Only when you feel for her tummy and tits beneath the hoodie does she respond.

"N-no, I—your bitch still wants to be bre-bred. Please, Master, p-put your semen in me."

Slap her ass once, twice, then move to the other cheek. You repeat the process and tug at her messy ponytail. Before you roughly bite her delicious looking, luscious lips. You growl straight into her anxious face:

"Beg, you dumb whore. Beg for it, beg for me."

Hyewon screams. Your teeth dig into her fragile flesh and your fingers attack every inch of her fuckable body. She is so sensitive, the flurry of feelings makes her mind go haywire. Your bites move down her chin to her collarbone, when Hyewon's voice becomes louder than ever before:

"Master, I'm your toy, your cow. I'm nothing without your cock, please fill me so I can be something!"

"More!"

"I need to smell like your seed and gush it all over the place. I need you to fuck me, Master, fuck your heir into me. Breed Hyewon, please!"

You open up the tight prison that are your pants. At the same time, Hyewon gets rid of the hoodie that has left her upper body all sweaty. She is in heat, physically incapable of anything else before your manhood spears her open. Luckily, you set your cock free and immediately place it on Hyewon's needy pink lips. A flick on her labia, and she begins to cry.

"Please, Master, I'm your sex toy, your bitch. Fuck me—ah!"

You push upwards, into Hyewon, while guiding her down onto you at the same time. Before you are even fully inside, she wants to bounce on it, but you keep her waist in place with rough hands on her smooth skin. Give her a pissed look and she falters. Hyewon remains still as your cock goes deeper and deeper. Before you reach her cervix, you give her tits a hard slap and her cry is a double high note.

"What should you say, bitch?" you ask, unimpressed by her writhes and sways on your lap or the way her hands hold onto your knees for dear life. There is enough evidence for you to believe that Hyewon is in fact already close to an overstimulating orgasm. Good.

"Th-thank you, Master."

The tight grip of her lingers on you for a bit. You've only fucked her once, which means that she still feels unique, exceptionally suffocating to your already well-used cock. Combined with her fabulous body and stunning face that has already melted to your will, it helps you enter a stage where there is nothing but fucking, nothing but breeding on your mind.

Pound upwards. Hyewon begins to bounce as well. Your voices combine in a duet of unintelligible sounds of pure bliss. Wet pussy juice and pre-cum leak fast, you're basically forcing it out. You need to pump into her, need her to ride as long as she can. It won't be long and she will be limp. You put one of Hyewon's bouncing tits in your mouth. The other gets twisted gently, roughly, somehow. All for her to go faster, become tighter.

“Ah, Master, s-so good," Hyewon babbles and tries to go faster. It's funny to think that she is simultaneously giving it her all to ride you, while her walls suck you in so hard that she can barely move past the friction.

"Hm, you like to be bred so hard," you say, your voice failing to formulate it as a question, but they way her entire body perfectly milks you, it might as well be fact. 

The well-known knot in your stomach is under your full control, just like the bitch on your lap. Yes, this power is incredible, control absolutely superb, but if you're honest to yourself, you don't mind cumming uncontrollably, all the time, deep inside. You let go.

"Fuck, Hyewon, I'm gonna—"

"Yes, Master, fill me! Breed me!"

You reach for her shoulders and press her down. Hyewon screams next to your ear when your nibble at her jaw is a sudden bite. Her heavy gushing cannot stop your first filling of her child-bearing organs. A sticky, wet sensation engulfs you, engulfs her mind. Hyewon went limp too fast.

Limp or not, you go for more. This is not enough to be certain, hell, it's basically like you're just about to start. Remove Hyewon from your lap, ignore the way she twitches in the aftermath of her orgasm. You bend her over the living room table. It's a bit too small to recreate the view from when you first fucked her in "her" office, but perfect to see her ass high up. She looks so fuckable, even from behind.

You insert yourself again and fuck not only your cock, but also all the cum deep, deep, deeper into Hyewon. After a shriek, she stays breathless at first, but after a minute of unrelenting drilling, she begins to cry. The overstimulation got to her.

"M-Master too-too much!"

"Are you sure you want me to stop—" you hiss viciously while pulling at her hair, "—while I give you this gift of a child?"

"Ah, n-no," Hyewon shouts through her tears. You let go of her hair and spank her rippling ass.

"I thought so."

You reach in between her legs and through your pistoning find her sensitive nub. You rub it with all the wetness of Hyewon's juices and she orgasms again. Involuntairly, her body rocks back and forth to make your fucking even faster. Her cunt once again grips for dear life, it even heats up—okay that might just be your second load, which you dump into her at that moment. 

Usually your mind gets dazed after this much sex with a rollercoaster of climaxes, but just like in a bad Wattpad-Smut, you go for one more round. You wish it would be as big as in those stories, but it's more or less just an excuse to push seed into Hyewon's womb and fall into a delirium of overstimulation.

You spin Hyewon around and place her back onto the couch. She is drooling, whimpering, her marvelous face just a mess of contortions and sweat. With no regards to her flexibility or consequences to potential aches all over her legs, you put Hyewon in a mating press and continue to fuck her. It hurts your spent cock, but her pussy is a perfect pool of warmth and tightness you won't leave yet.

"Master, Master!" Hyewon cries out, her voice crooked. 

"Soon, when you finally fulfill your purpose, you can call me Daddy, cow!"

Your hips work significantly slower, but with more intent. The penetration does not end at random spots. Your cockhead deliberately hits deep, and Hyewon's body jerks with each hard, stimulating attack. Her hands bounce the same way her voluptuous bosom does. Wet noises, mostly queefs from her pussy dominate this song of mating. Moans and groans have been replaced by elaborate breaths and the occasional peek when you hit Hyewon's cavern hard enough.

It's all over soon. Things will be set in motion that cannot be undone. The world-famous, wildly beloved ex-idol is now bound to become pregnant. Her glorious, flat tummy will become concave. Your companies are about to merge, and in the midst of this massive, complicated process with lawyers and data and all the other boring bullshit, something wonderful happens. Sure, it's dirty and seems loveless, but Hyewon's glistening orbs tell a different story.

Tears stream down her face as she pulls you into a hug. Her cunt sucks the last droplets of fertile baby batter out of your balls. You are empty, but she is overflowing.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, Master," she coos and wails as you collapse. Exhaustion hits you like a train, a hydrogen bomb, a fucking meteor. You crawl onto the couch and fall into a dream, a dream where Hyewon is happy, grateful, with a child in her arms.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I surely lost my mind.

[auras-moonstone]

mad woman — ethan landry (part five)

words: 1,769

pairing: ethan landry x gf!fem!reader

based on: mad woman by taylor swift

author’s note: only one more part left ! and the epilogue (if i decide to give y/n and ethan a happy ending).

previous part ; next part

Y/N AND ETHAN WOKE UP AT THE SOUND OF THEIR PHONES RINGING. The girl groaned in annoyance as she reached for the device laying on the drawer. Ethan mumbled something under his breath before grabbing Y/N by the waist to push her against his bare chest again.

The girl laughed kissing his cheek “Eth, it might be important” she whispered. He sighed, letting her go. She took her phone and read the texts that were sent to the group as Ethan pressed short kisses on her neck.

mindy

y/n, ethan we have a plan.

meet us at the park in an hour

tara

hello????

everything okay???

chad

answer us!!!

mindy

fuck he killed her

i told you not to go with him y/n/n

wtf mindy i’m okay

why would you text that if you thought i was dead??

mindy

idk maybe you are seeing me typing

maybe you are stuck in this world trying to get revenge

you want to haunt your boyfriend for killing you!

please stop watching paranormal movies minds

we are okay. we’ll meet you there in thirty minutes

chad

*20

we texted you 40 minutes ago, mindy told you to meet us in an hour

yeah we are not going to make it in twenty

we need to shower

sam

but you went to his dorm specifically to shower

why didn’t you do that already?

i did. but i need to shower again :)

mindy

i’m throwing up rn

tara

she literally gagged

chad

ethan my man!! so proud of you buddy!

he’s still sleeping i tired him out

mindy

DONT PUT MENTAL IMAGES IN MY MIND THAT IS DISGUSTING

lmao i’m just messing with you, minds

mindy

thank god.

because virgins survive, so you two might have a chance

oh i was kidding about him still being asleep

the rest was all true :)

mindy

just stop taking and meet us there🤮

“Why didn’t you get rid of Mindy instead of Anika?” Y/N groaned as they made their way to the shower. “I actually really liked Anika. And my patience with Mindy is running out. I swear next time she says something mean to you I-“

He cut her off with a kiss “God, I love it when you get protective” he pressed against the wall of the shower.

“The shower is for showering, babe” she pulled away.

“Can’t help it” he said kissing her neck and shoulders. Y/N smirked as she turned on the cold water, Ethan quickly stepped back.

“Y/N! What was that for?” he glared at her.

“You are in desperate need of a cold shower” she laughed “Come on, we need to hurry. Your dad said it was important for us to be there”.

Ethan sighed in defeat “Fine”.

“I promise that once this is over, I’ll let you do whatever you want to me” she gave him a peck.

“Anything?” he smirked.

“Anything” she confirmed.

QUINN ATTACKED GALE AT HER HOUSE, ALMOST BEING SUCCESSFUL IN KILLING HER. Right now, the whole group, minus officer Bailey and Kirby, were at the hospital lounge, waiting for any news on the reporter’s health.

Y/N and Ethan were internally fuming. How many fucking lives did Gale Weathers have? It was ridiculous. Though, they really enjoyed seeing Sam’s guiltiness eat her alive.

"What do we do know?" Y/N asked, sitting on Ethan’s lap. He tightened his grip on the girl's frame as she drew invisible circles on his chest.

"Maybe he gets to win this time" Sam said, her voice was a bit shaky. They all looked at her as if she was crazy. "He wants to punish me. Me. So maybe I'll let him. I'll just give myself up. If this is what I have to do, to keep you safe, it's worth it".

"First of all, you are fucking insane if you think we'll let you do that" Y/N told her, no hesitation in her voice.

Tara stood up. "Y/N/N is right. You always protect us, now it's time we protect you. We are a team, remember?".

"We are family" Y/N corrected, standing up and walking towards Sam.

"You can say it, Chad" Mindy said, standing up too.

Chad got into his feet and with a excited smile he said. "Let's go! Core five!".

"Core what?" asked Danny.

"It's an us think" Chad explained briefly.

"He's gonna keep coming after us" Sam warned them.

"Isn't there somewhere safe we can hold up in?" Ethan asked.

"He's just going to keep finding us" Tara told him, making him sigh. "We could use that, though”.

THE FINAL ACT WAS ABOUT TO BEGIN. The group planned on luring Ghostface into a secure location and trap him inside. The final reveal was getting close, and Y/N’s heart beat with excitement. She couldn’t wait to see the life draining from Tara’s eyes. And then, she would continue her life with the love of her life.

"Is this even a good plan?" Ethan asked, his hand gripping Y/N’s tightly, as they walked down the stairs to take the train.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to" Tara replied.

"So we just peel off so the killer takes us off one by one? No, thank you" the curly-haired boy said, making his girlfriend look at him with her eyebrows raised. "And I don't want to leave Y/N alone, of course".

The girl laughed. "You really don't have to come, you know? We are not going to blame you for not going".

Ethan sighed. "No. Like I said, I won’t leave you alone".

“Yeah, very romantic, lovebirds. Can you move now? We are going to miss the train” Mindy said annoyed from behind them.

They walked through the current of people, pushing and shoving to try to get into the train. Just as they were about to enter it, the doors closed right in front of their faces.

"The next one should be here any minute. We won't be that far behind" said Y/N to Ethan and Mindy.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go away" Mindy said to the boy.

"What do you mean?" the girl asked her confused.

"I don't trust your boyfriend".

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Mindy, not right now. Leave your stupid accusations aside, we need to stick together".

"Fine, you can stay with him. I'll wait a couple of feet away" she replied stubbornly.

"Mindy, come on" she said tiredly, but her friend didn't listen. She turned to face the tall boy. "Can I be the one who gets rid of her?".

Ethan tried not to laugh “I’m sorry but we have to take advantage of her stubbornness. Text Quinn, it’ll be less suspicious if you do it”.

“How disappointing” she scoffed, pulling her phone out.

hey quinn. we are about to take the train. we missed the first, so we are taking the next one.

mindy distanced herself from us cause she doesn’t trust your brother.

it’ll be a great opportunity to get rid of her

(i’m so jealous you get to do it btw).

quinn

roger that:)

aw i’m sorry, i promise i’ll be extra brutal for you :)

stop flirting with me!

quinn

no can do ;)

“Hey, what the fuck?” Ethan whispered, reading the conversation over her shoulder.

Y/N laughed “Don’t worry, pretty boy. My heart is only yours”.

“That’s right. You are mine” he said, gripping her hips.

“You are so hot when you get territorial” she said pressing a kiss on his jaw.

When they boarded the train, Mindy walked towards the end of the wagon, away from them but at a reasonable distance so she could keep an eye on Ethan.

“This is perfect” Y/N whispered, looking around. The train was crowded with people dressed as famous killers—Jason, Michael Myers, Ghostface, Pennywise.

"What’s your favorite scary movie, darling?” the boy joked. He was towering over her, and her back was pressed against a metal tube.

Y/N rolled her eyes "Shut up, idiot. I was never a fan of those types of movies”

“Maybe that could be one of our dates, watching scary movies”

“I’ll do anything as long as it’s with you” she smiled sweetly. He got closer to her, now they were chest against chest, and kissed her cheeks multiple times.

“Gross” said a familiar voice from next to them. Just after that, the light went out.

“That’s your cue, Quinnie” Y/N told her.

“Don’t call me that” she grumbled before starting to get closer and closer to Mindy.

On the next stop, when a big number of people stepped out of the train, the couple turned around to see Mindy sitting on the floor, hands pressed to her stomach and blood staining her shirt.

"No, fuck!" Y/N yelled faking concern as she ran towards her. She wanted to smile so badly at the sight of the girl in pain "You've got to be kidding me! I'm so sorry, Minds".

"Somebody help!" Ethan screamed, but no one moved one finger to do something. "Shit. We've got to get her out of here".

Y/N nodded. "Breath deep" she told her before pulling her to her feet. The girl let out a groan of pain as the couple lead her out of the train. "Thanks for nothing, assholes!".

"Somebody call 911!" Ethan yelled as they put the wounded girl on the floor of the station. "Are you okay?".

"Yeah, I'm so good" she said through her teeth.

"You're going to be okay" Ethan told her.

"Goddam it! I got it wrong again!" she cried. The paramedics arrived and started to check on the wounded girl.

"Is she going to be okay?" Y/N asked them.

"Yes, your friend will be fine, don't worry. We are going to give her painkillers, while we drive her to the hospital" they informed her.

“Minds, they need all the help they can get. I hate to leave you alone, but…” Y/N started.

Mindy nodded in understanding “You have to help them, it’s okay. Go”.

“If you need anything, call me okay?” Y/N told her.

“I’ll be fine, really. Just… be careful with him, okay? I know he’s your boyfriend and you like him, but never trust the love interest”.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be okay” she assured her before the paramedics took her away. “Heard that? I should be careful with you” she turned around with a smirk to face her boyfriend. “Are you gonna hurt me?”.

Ethan laughed “Depends, are you into those types of kink?”.

“You really should’ve taken that cold shower” Y/N said rolling her eyes, but smiling nonetheless. “Now, let’s go. It’s time for the big finale, baby!”.

[mybiasisexo]

HI! Happy New Year!

Can I request #51 with Chanyeol pls? Wishing you all the best for 2024! Thanks in advance!

Distraction 🏋️‍♂️

Part 2 Genre: fluff | personal trainer!au Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Length: 2.3k Warnings: Chanyeol is a warning all in himself boy!!!

a/n: I said i was gonna make a gym drabble and baby here it is!!! This isnt really fluff, but its def not angst. What other genres are there??? I could've made this 6k is2g lmao i want the smut 😂. but ayye these are just drabbles! I'll behave. Sorry for the delay! Thank you so much for the request 😚 this gif of him alwaaaays makes me crazy like if i stare at it for too long ill scream. no im not ok thanks for asking

DRABBLE GAME | MASTERLIST

Dread filled you as you gazed at the building looming in front of you. Your worst enemy—the gym.

You despised the place for two reasons. The first was simple, it was a gym, pretty self-explanatory. The second reason was your personal trainer, Park Chanyeol.

You swore from the moment he was assigned to you he made it his mission to make you never come back. He had to have a torture kink or something, with the stuff he had you doing. You’ve pushed yourself to the point of puking a few times under his care, and still he would make you keep going.

And sure, you were seeing results. And, yeah, it was getting easier. You felt yourself growing stronger with every session. He was good at what he did, even if his practices had you questioning the legality of it all.

With a withering sigh, you got out of your car and made your way to what was your personal hell.

You spotted Chanyeol as soon as you entered. He was standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed, legs spread apart, looking rather unimpressed as he hovered over a guy struggling to do pushups.

You tried not to stare too long at those exposed arms, the massive muscles bulging over his just as firm chest. He always wore the same thing: black basketball shorts with a black muscle shirt that left little to the imagination of how much time he spent at the gym. You’d only ever seen him work out once yourself and…. You refused to let your thoughts wander to that moment.

As if he could hear where your mind was attempting to go, his eyes flickered up to where you were scanning in your membership badge. A wolfy grin split his face as he took you in, the heat of his gaze made you shiver.

He only acknowledged you for a second. It took you a beat too long to realize he was counting his client’s reps. Ignoring him, you headed over to a secluded corner and started your warm up stretches. Chanyeol helped the poor dude up, that strength of his coming in clutch when his client’s knees buckled and he almost hit the floor.

You winced, knowing that pain. Luckily, this gym had darkly painted walls and dim lighting to give its customers a sense of privacy. It helped that it was later in the night, nearing eleven, so there wasn’t many people present to watch him struggle. As well as yourself. That was why you preferred coming late. Less people, less judgement, and it wore you out enough that you could go straight to bed as soon as you got home—after a post workout meal, if Chanyeol were to ask.

He clapped the scraggly man on his back, making him cough, and gave some uplifting words as they slowly made their way to the front door. You were just finishing your stretches when thick bowlegs were in front of you. You were sitting on the floor, so you had to look up, up, up that firm trunk of a frame to meet those round eyes of his alight with humor.

“You actually showed up today?” Chanyeol asked, tilting his head curiously. His shaggy hair fell into his stare.

You glared at him as you climbed to your feet. “Well, I figured you haven’t killed me yet.”

“Yet.” His grin was a warning. He nudged his head to the rather empty machines. “Come on. It’s leg day.”

You let out a relieved breath. It was torture for sure, but leg day was your favorite. He led you to a machine and you got to work.

You tried to focus on the tasks given to you. To focus on your posture, your breathing, on keeping your core tight. But, it was rather difficult when something, or rather someone, was far more distracting.

That was another thing about Chanyeol that you despised. When you first found out he was going to be your trainer, your immediate thought was ‘hell no’. You were hesitant to have a male trainer to begin with, but this one? He was fine as all hell. Too fine. And with that smirk he gave you when you first refused his help—the one he still gave you, mind you—you knew he was going to be a problem.

Matters were only made worse when you actually trained with him. During your sessions, he was nothing but professional. His goal was to help you through your workouts and he did. His large hands would skim over your body as he fixed your posture, or added pressure against your legs so that you knew where to put your weight. His voice was deep and he would use it to encourage and praise you. There was never any teasing or animosity while you trained. His voice would sink into your brain, scramble your thoughts and leave your body boiling. Especially when he’d hit you with a ‘good girl’ or ‘just like that. Perfect’.

He had to know what he was doing.

It was near the end of your session, you had one last work out to do.

“Save the best for last,” Chanyeol said as he took you to a bizarre looking machine.

“And what the hell is this thing?” You asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“It’s called a hip abductor,” he explained to you like he thought you were dumb.

You ignored his tone. “How’re you supposed to use it?”

“Sit on it and I’ll show you.”

You brushed off the innuendo, and prayed he didn’t catch the heat on your face. Instead, you bumped the machine with your shoe, warily taking it in. You were exhausted, and didn’t want to do another set of nothing.

“Why don’t you demonstrate for me?” You suggested.

Chanyeol lifted an eyebrow and you shrugged in response. “What? I’ve never seen you work out before. How do I know you’re qualified to train me?”

He barked a laugh at that, knowing you’re bullshitting now. “I imagine your glutes are enough proof of my teaching abilities.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “And why are you looking at my glutes?”

He shrugged, feigning innocence. “Just making sure I’m doing my job.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and hummed, unable to think of a good comeback. Instead, you nudged your chin towards this ‘hip abductor’.

“I know what you’re doing,” he said. Despite his words, he didn’t call you out. You watched as he plopped onto the machine with a sigh. You couldn’t help but grin victoriously, eager to see the man at work.

He adjusted the weight, settled into the seat, and then pushed his thighs against the pads, spreading his legs out wide before bringing them back in. He began explaining what he was doing, what muscles he was working, and the proper way to move, but you could barely hear a word over the way his thick thighs flexed, the muscle underneath stretching the skin.

You realized then that your roles were reversed, and a brilliant idea popped into your head. He was always teasing you during your sessions, and now was your turn to have some fun and return the favor.

You took a couple steps closer to him, studying him more, like you were invested in getting everything right. Then you ran your fingers down his arm and he faltered for a second.

“Am I supposed to hold on to the seat like that?”

You didn’t miss the way his grip tightened, his knuckles whitening.

“Yeah,” he said between clenched teeth.

He pushed his legs out again, and you’re quick to fill the new space, forcing him to keep them open.

Your name left his mouth in a warning. That only made your grin grow wider.

He glared up at you. “What are you doing?”

“Testing to see how long you can hold this position.”

He said your name again, but you interrupted him before he could finish. “You always push me. Why don’t I test your limits for once?”

Something ignited in his eyes and the lights ahead shown in them hauntingly. “Who says you don’t already do?”

“What?” You asked, startled by how gently the words left his full lips.

He didn’t repeat himself, but he appeared to give into your challenge. He sunk more into his seat, eyes never left yours as he held the position, too competitive for his own good. Though it worked in your favor.

You’re not sure how much time passed, but it felt like hours of you standing between his legs, both never looking away from the other.

Finally, you decided it was time to up the ante. Sweat had started to gather on his forehead and neck, but most importantly, a slight tremor had started in his legs.

“What’s wrong?” You asked with a fake pout. “Can’t hold it anymore?”

“I’m chilling,” he replied back, but you heard the strain in his voice.

“Is that so?” You grinned again and rested the palm of your hands above his knees on either side of you. “You’re shaking.”

You took your time scaling his body before meeting his eyes again. He was holding his breath, but something in his expression was begging you to continue.

So, you did.

Slowly, you dragged your hands further up his legs, remembering all the times he had done the same. Although he was always professional about it. He only touched you when he had to. There was nothing professional about your touch. All the sexual frustration you’ve felt because of this man had seemed to bubble over and took control of your limbs. In this moment, you wanted him to understand what he did to you, wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.

His eyes fluttered as you dragged his shorts up with your wrists, wanting to feel his warm skin.

You quickly glanced around the gym, noticing you were the only ones left, and that made you even more bold. Nearly at his hips, you went to move your hands to his crotch.

Chanyeol was fast. Before you knew what happened, he had snatched your wrists with one hand, putting a halt to your little game and causing you to gasp in surprise.

Your ministrations had you bent over him, so your faces were only an inch or two apart. He leaned forward, brushing his nose against yours, the hair on his forehead tickled your own.

“You’re playing with fire here,” he warned, voice a steady grumble against your lips. When he pulled back to take in your expression, you saw the burning inferno ready to wreak havoc in his gaze. You knew that if he were to let go of those flames, it would burn away all pretenses, all politeness, and rules.

And you wanted that. You wanted his fire to consume you, wanted his desire to engulf and burn and hurt.

There was a pause as you both study each other, waiting to see who would break first. You found your arms shaking in his grip, not with the usual soreness you’d usually be shaking with at this time of your appointment. It was adrenaline, your own desire raised to meet his.

Of course, he felt it too. “How long have you wanted me, Sweetheart?”  He sounded deceitfully sweet, and it made your sore legs weak. He gathered that much, so he gathered you. Large hands went to your waist, easily lifting you up so that you were now straddling him. With you on his lap, he could finally close his legs, and he did so with a relieved huff. A mocking laugh left your mouth, but he put an end to it by pushing you down so that you were seated fully on him—right on his bulge.

“Oh!” You startled. You blinked up at him innocently before throwing back at him, “how long have you wanted me?”

He hummed thoughtfully, running his hands up your thighs to hold your hips. He pressed his lips to your ear, “from the moment I first saw you.”

You shivered at both his confession and his warm breath on your skin. It took everything in you not to roll your hips into him, the pressure of him just as much a tease as his expression and words and touch.

“That being said,” he started, and you already knew you weren’t going to like what he was about to say. “You have a workout to finish.”

“I can think of a few alternatives that are just as effective,” you said, giving into the temptation to gently grind against him.

He bit his lip, holding back a moan as he forced you to stop with his hands on your hips. His attention fell to your chest hovering in front of his face. “You’re not getting out of this one. Nice try though.”

You groaned and straightened, slumping dejectedly. He chuckled before wrapping an arm around your waist, standing abruptly. You squealed, holding onto him as he turned around to sit you down onto the seat of the machine.

“Chanyeol,” you whined.

“Hey, I let you stall, didn’t I?”

“I mean yeah, but we were in the middle of something.”

“I tell you what. Finish this set and I’ll reward you.”

“Reward me how?” You questioned skeptically. His idea of a reward usually benefited him more than you.

As an answer, he stuck out his tongue, wagging it quickly at you. Your eyes widened in shock, scandalized. But the burning in your abdomen and the way your legs pressed together was a dead giveaway to how enticing a reward that was.

“Fine,” you grumbled, adjusting the weight and starting doing your reps.

Chanyeol’s loud laugh echoed throughout the building at your eagerness.

“If I knew that was all the encouragement you needed, I would’ve incorporated it sooner.”

“Shut up,” you muttered.

“Make me.” He smirked.

“Oh, I will be as soon as I get that reward you promised.”

When you left the gym some time later, you couldn’t help but to think maybe your trainer wasn’t that bad afterall.

[synnamonroll666]

A Breath Of Fresh Air

Pairing: Fujin x Fem!Reader Description: This heatwave is killing you! Luckily your boyfriend knows exactly how to fix your heated struggles... Warnings: Implied Smut, Nudity, Erection (Lmao), Fluff, And Size Difference... Word Count: 1k A/N: This one was inspired by a prompt given to me by @mornandil. And may I just say thank you, thank you, thank you! It really helped me get out of my writer's block. 😂 I hope you enjoy this, my friend. 🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @mornandil, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

"Goddammit!" I cursd loudly as I sit up from where I am laying on the couch, glaring at the fan in front of me that does little to chill my burning flesh.

Fujin—who sits in a chair not to fair away from where I am—glances up from the novel he is reading while quirking a brow, his glowing white eyes averting from the words on the page before him to glance in my direction.

"I'm sorry?" He quarries, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if to assess the situation by staring down my features before I tell him what is on my mind.

Realizing what I had said, my cheeks heat with a rosy flush as I look away from my godly lover. I bring a hand up to rub the back of my neck and mentally kick myself for not being more careful with mu choice of words. "I-I'm sorry, Fuj—"

"Nonsense," Fujin's lighthearted voice comes back into play and I glance back up to see his usual playful grin toying on his soft lips. "What is wrong, my dearest?"

"Oh, it's just this damn heat." I roll my eyes as I fall back onto the couch, losing hope in ever getting comfort again. "I'm melting in this heatwave!"

There is a short silence that fills the room before Fujin speaks again. "Mmm, it is quite hot out. Even for me. But..."

"But?" I shoot back up, my eyes broadening slightly with an intrigued glow. Fujin smirks at this, knowing damn well just how desperate I am to have a solution to this burning problem.

"Could say you're burning with desire?" The right corner of his lips pulls up to form a sexy half-smirk on his face, his mischievous eyes burrowing into mine for a moment as he watches me.

With that I let out a scoff, slightly caught off guard by his sudden change in demeanor. Fujin was always one to make jokes, especially if it resulted in me getting flustered by them. This wasn't new to me, but I'd still be caught astonished each time something witty would fly out of the wind god's mouth. It is always expect the unexpected when he was around, which is one of the things I love the most about him.

"Stand up," He then demands, his tone slightly mysterious and hard to place. Raising a confused brow at the man, I stand up, ready for whatever he has planned for me. Though nothing could have prepared me for what he asks of me next. "Now take off your clothes."

"Huh—" I choke out, not expecting such a demand from my lover. "Fujin, it's too hot for s—"

"Just trust me,"

With those words spoken, I realize that whatever he is thinking, it is for my benefit. So within a minute, I am out of my clothes and completely nude before the man. He places down his novel and stands, before stripping himself of his layers as well. My eyes remain wide, taking in the sight before me. His skin glistens in the heat as well, showing signs that even the sun could effect a god on a day like this.

His muscles flex as he takes slow and steady steps in my direction. In a short amount of time, he is in front of me. Tall and broad, he towers over my small form. He wraps his large and muscular arms around my frame, pulling me close to him as he presses his soft lips to mine. And suddenly, the temperature in the room shifts as a soft breeze picks up around us.

Before long, that breeze grows more intense as the kiss does. And by the time his sharp tongue enters my mouth, it's as if the wind has grown into a tornado, disrupting objects in the room. Random objects fly around the room as the tornado picks up speed, us in its center as Fujin's tongue penetrates into my mouth deeper, brushing along my own in a sensual manner.

As this happens, his grip on me grows stronger while his member grows hard between my thighs. I gasp into his mouth, shivering under his touch. The moment lasts for what feels like forever until Fujin let's out a grunt into my mouth as something hits him in the back of his head. He pulls away from me for a moment and glances down at the hard-cover novel laying on the floor by his feet.

We both let out a good chuckle as objects fall to the floor around us, the air consistency falling back to normal as Fujin retracts his powers. My heart pounds in my chest from the heat of the moment, but I do not feel hot. In fact, my body temperature has decreased by a lot.

"How—" I mutter to myself lowly, though my subtle words get cut off by Fujin's hearty chuckle.

"Magic, my dearest." His hand comes up to rest on my cheek momentarily while he gazes into my eyes, a look of love and adoration within his own. "Trust me, it gets better from there."

"Oh, is that so?" I inquire, a smirk adding a hint of playfulness to my smile.

"Want me to show you?"

There is a small glint of excitement in his eyes as he asks this, which makes the serotonin dance in my mind. He tries to play it off as nothing, but it is evident that he is always waiting to show off his powers. For a god, he is a bit of a geek that way. But he is my geek.

"You know the answer to that, my gentle breeze."

His eyes soften at that nickname I call him, his heart reflecting in his glowing orbs for a moment as he watches me intently. Before I know it, I'm tightly wrapped in his embrace again, and the room becomes a capsule of overflowing air once more. And in the middle is us—the heart of the chaos—soaking up the sudden cool temperature, a large contrast to the burning temperature of desire our touch makes us feel within.

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

[octoberautumnbox]

hello kuya box, just wanted to pop in and ask how you're doing :) I've been (im)patiently waiting for yuri comeback news so I can finally get into her more :<)

Fluffy question for you:

Imagine you and Yuri are in school together. You're both in the same friend group and you've had a secret crush on her for years now. While you're hanging out with your friends, you suddenly find yourself alone with her. Despite your anxiety, the moment just feels right - how would you confess to her?

have a yuri :)

hi 0cta9on! everyone and their moms on the edge of their seats for that cb i get it GJKSHFJKDHSGKJSFHJK but we gotta let her cook!! :DDDD

also i keep getting requests and ideas for this general plot LMAO i'll get to that draft eventually! in the meantime please enjoy this short thingy ehe

~~~

It's been about forty minutes now, and nearly everyone is rolling around in the grass of the Sunken Garden. The admin should be kicking people out right now, but for some reason, nobody hears your friends' racket, allowing you free reign for as long as nobody comes near enough. It's strange that you have the free real estate all to yourself, but you're not one to complain. Finals were tough on everybody, and by the looks of it, you and your friends most of all.

Hanbin and Jeongin are locked in a verbal argument, threatening to turn physical soon. Somi yaps on with Chaeryeong off to the side, spilling their drinks on the soil and forming puddles of intoxicating mud in the ground. And finally, Ryujin lies face down in the grass, true to character, and the sheer fact that it's Ryujin silences any alarms that she might be in danger that would have otherwise started blaring in your head.

All that's left is you and Yuri, sitting on a nearby tree root, watching the scenes unfold by the light of a streetlamp infested with moths. She eyes each one lazily, from the fight, to the gossip, to Ryujin who is most probably not dead, as she sips beer from her bottle and punctuates the swig with a relief-filled "ahhh."

Her beauty is mesmerizing, from her half-lidded eyes, to the way her hair perfectly frames her face, to how her lips curl with each sip she takes of her drink. It's nothing like anyone has ever seen before, or, at least not the way you've seen her. It doesn't help that the moon, full as can be, shines its borrowed light as if only on her, like a spotlight to the main character of a soap opera.

It must be the alcohol; it must be. There's not a single reason in the world that you feel the way you feel right now. Never mind that it's bad tonight, never mind that she's so pretty, never mind that this is the first chance you've ever had alone with her, never mind that it might also be the last...

Your heart pounds nearly as hard as your head throbs in search of water. Everything is wrong, and there's only one way to make it right. Lie to yourself, "it's only the alcohol, it's only the alcohol..." Kick yourself mentally: you know it's not.

"Yuri," you say tentatively. Part of you wishes she'd heard and would turn your way, the rest of you prays she didn't.

"Yeah?" Look over to her, find her gaze still glued to the various comical sights in front of the both of you. She smiles at her friends' antics, and she smiles to you. Your eyes make contact, and you swear you've never felt more honest — honest and vulnerable.

"It's only the alcohol, it's only the alcohol..." It repeats like a broken record in your head. You try your damnedest to convince yourself it's only the alcohol, that she's just that pretty tonight, that she's just that pretty every night the past ten years you've known her. This isn't anything special. This is just plain old Yuri. Nothing more, nothing less.

Just Yuri.

"N-nothing. Nice night out, huh?" You realize you're staring, and you avoid her eyes. Take a panicked sip of your own beer, but, fuck, did you make it look not-panicked?

"Yeah, it is. Really is." Yuri places her head on your shoulder and sighs all the air out her lungs. Her eyes flutter shut as she fills her lungs again with a crisp night breeze. By accident, you swear by accident, the fragrance of her hair enters your nostrils, and you take in the comfort of her being plainly close to you.

And just like that, you fail again. Your feelings stay tightly locked in a box, buried deep in the recesses of your heart. Who knows when they'll surface, or if they ever will.

Fuck it. This is enough. More than, even. This is Yuri.

Just Yuri. Nothing more. Nothing less.