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loveau · 6 months

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Case Closed: Chapter One | Sehun

Genre: slow-burn romance, angst, mystery/crime

Summary: As the only person willing to take on this wild goose chase of a 10-month ongoing missing persons case, you have your head in your hands trying to figure out why 20 girls and counting have suddenly disappeared. You can't give up now that another girl has just joined that number. Good thing that your persistent crime reporter friend Oh Sehun won't let you quit either.

Word Count: 6.4k

T/W: minor violence, kidnapping, crime, uhhh not edited i'm sorry

A/N: I'M SOOOOO SORRY!!!!!! I've been on hiatus for 3 years LOLOLOLOL then i found this in my vault since may 4th, 2020 and i felt so bad that i wrote literally 3.5k words to finish this first chapter so i can just get it out. i have the whole thing fleshed out.......... i'm so sorry 🙈 also i don't really use this blog anymore but i figured i will just to get out everything again HAHAHA i do not expect this to get any traction at all but if you enjoy it then 🥺❤️

It started like any other day, which was a real cliché to put it. You walk into the station with your usual heavy eyelids and even heavier shoulders. Sleep was something you’d given up when you first started working as a detective, but the word was definitely out of your dictionary when you picked up the case. Most of your colleagues wouldn’t pick up the case. Mainly because they knew you’d be the first one to take it. However, after ten months you still haven’t found any new leads. Six months of chasing after ghosts and you always returned emptyhanded.

This morning, you had something into your hands. Flung into them, rather. A coffee and a file, courtesy of Jongin. Normally there’d be a smile gracing his face and a joke soon to follow to lighten up your mood. Instead there was a frown as he motioned down at the file in your hands.

“That’s number 21.”

You’re grim and you know it’s very apparent. How could you not be with the numbers stacked this high? You mumble a thanks and allow Jongin to linger a bit. He wants to say something, and you know it, but you also know he’s conflicted about whether or not he should continue bothering you.

“Jongin, I’m not dropping the case.”

He purses his lips and takes a tactical sip of his own coffee. After a moment to find the right words he sighs. “I know. I wouldn’t dream of trying to rip you away from that.”

A dry chuckle leaves you and you shake your head almost dotingly at your junior. “Of course.” You point a pen towards the office everyone knew too well after getting chewed out at least thrice. “But that doesn’t mean she won’t. She’s been on my ass for a while.” You’ve joked with your peers about the Boa Constrictor keeping you in her hold until you concede, but you’d never been on the receiving end of it until now. Except you definitely weren’t about to let go of this case.

There’s a moment of silence while he tries to come up with something else to say and you busy yourself with the new file. You curse when you look at the girl’s photo and information. “She’s only 15.” Jongin hums and scans over the information with you. He takes her photo out from beneath the paperclip and holds it up to the board where there were faces of 20 other girls on them.

“She doesn’t look like any of the others.”

“Not at all. She’s got some similar features to some, but… there isn’t a type.”

“If they even are getting kidnapped.” You scoff at that before taking the photo and thumbtacking it to the board. “Not that I’m saying you’re on a wild goose chase or anything, but…” He takes another sip of his coffee. You know the mug is empty. “21 girls who don’t have any connection to each other besides living in the same city… It’s really difficult to determine if they’re all being kidnapped or just-”

“Runaways, I know.”

“Look, they’re all around the ages too. Teen angst, wanting to start fresh in another city, eloping with a secret lover.” He sighs wistfully and moves to take another sip until he remembers his empty cup. “21 girls. No relation. Some of them did sports, but it’s a range. Some of them are in the same school district, but they have different schedules. Two of them lived in the same neighborhood, but that’s in a whole block of apartments.”

Your eyes linger at the girl’s face a couple seconds longer. You’ve heard it too many times by all the others to know that Jongin is implying they could be all coincidences. People runaway all the time, it’s true. You’ve definitely closed those sorts of cases and convinced a couple of them to work it out and return home. You just wish you had some concrete proof that this was different.

Jongin turns away, about to leave and continue his own work after getting more coffee. “I’ll get out of your hair now, but I’m just worried about you. You’re losing a lot of sleep for someone who looks like they’re chasing their own tail. Take care of yourself.” He’s off before you can bark a word at him, and you roll your eyes to yourself.

You take a sip of the coffee he’d given to you moments prior, but it had gotten cold since then. It was still a bit of a kickstart to your day anyhow. You had the cases of 21 missing girls all over the city resting on your shoulders. It was a miracle you got any sleep at all. You tried your hand at anything. Possible gang relations or involvements or some group or organization, and yet you found no link. Like you said earlier, there didn’t seem to be a type that was targeted as the girls were mainly different appearance wise. You’d even thought to consider some underground sex ring, but the information you’ve collected about some of them didn’t fit the bill.

There were a couple girls who were taken in their own homes. They had been the ones living alone, except one who was taken while her three roommates were all home. They had chalked it up to her not feeling well and when they decided to check up on her, she was gone. It just didn’t sit right with you that they had done everything according to their routine and yet they supposedly just ran away. Most didn’t seem to have any motive at all to do so according to their friends and family. Even though you knew everybody’s got secrets and skeletons to hide you knew that was the truth. It was a gut feeling, but it wasn’t enough.

A buzzing noise came from your pocket and you whip your phone out to see what notification it was this time. A random message from one of your friends on social media popped up. You wanted to swipe it away, but you decided against it and opened it up. It was a friend from college who had found some old photo of the two of you at some party, dressed up with a lot of skin showing but even more teeth on display. Back then the lack of sleep you had was because of the constant studying and partying, or rather taking some free booze and dipping when you got bored. It was still fun to socialize and watch everyone stumble dumbly, though. You responded back quickly by telling her to forward it to you. Before you pocketed your phone, you retyped your passcode to unlock the phone again and went into your contacts. Thinking about college reminded you of somebody.

The moment you stepped out you heard a familiar “Hello?”

“Hi, Mrs. Kim. Just checking in like I always do.” You could almost hear the smile in the woman’s face. Tension immediately left your shoulders the moment you heard her coo your name softly. It was like it was never there at all.

“I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was just beginning to think you’d never call.” She laughs easily at her tease. She knew you would call. You always did. “I was just thinking about you actually. I heard there was another one…”

A sigh leaves your lips and you pinch the bridge of your nose before you answer. “Yeah, it’s been a rough couple of months hasn’t it?” She hums in response and you can hear her shuffling papers around, most likely sorting through the mail you know she never opens and gets to once a month at least. She pauses and you can hear her set the large pile down.

“Of course. Five months without my baby? She’s supposed to be starting school in a couple months. She was so excited when she got accepted. They have the best music program in the state, you know.” You knew all too well that her daughter was to be going to school at the best music school in the state. You listened to some of her recordings before after her mother had shown you. You like to think that it was just because of a mother’s pride, but you think it was to hear her daughter’s voice again as she talks through the piece and giggles at a small slip up in one of them.

It almost pained you that you couldn’t find her with what you had now. You were still as clueless as you were when she had gone missing five months ago.

“I’ll find her soon. I know I will. The next time you won’t get to see her is when you have to move her into the dorms. I promise you.” It was an unsure promise, to convince the both of you that you’d get it done. And soon. The shift from a lighthearted conversation had gotten grim fast. Those conversations had typically over the lunches you had with Mrs. Kim. She was the first case of this bunch and also the most optimistic of the friends and family. You felt that you had to keep her updated and in turn she continued to put her trust in you.

“I know. She’s counting on you; I just know it. She knows you’ll get it done somehow.” The words strike you in your core. That’s right, there’s a lot of people counting on you right now. One more family just got added to the list this morning. You try not to think about the handful of others that decided to have you stop looking after they’ve given up that their daughters would come back. It pained you to have them retract their hope enough to have you close their cases, but you wouldn’t stop even if they asked you. You didn’t want to have to leave them in the dark while their daughters were missing. Lord knows you were considering a murderer, but no bodies had turned up to your relief. You just hoped you didn’t have to continue praying for it not to happen.

The call ended quickly, and you spent the next couple of hours going over your information and collecting information from the family of the newest missing girl. She was hanging out with friends when she was all of a sudden separated from the group at the mall. It was a busy place, but camera footage and eyewitnesses last saw her roaming in a store before her trail goes cold. This was frustrating. Rumors had spread about the girl going missing already, but since she was a teen most people assumed that she just ran away. She was pretty social according to her friends, and they just chalked it up to her personality and hanging with the wrong crowd. You decided to ponder over it on your lunch break, calling up your regular lunch partner to meet you at some café a couple blocks away.

Sehun doesn’t have to wave you over for you to sit down at the table you know he’s already at. It’s almost a ritual, to eat at this café every other week and sitting at the same table, nonetheless. He smiles warmly at you and pushes a plate towards you. “I already ordered for you. And don’t worry, I paid for it as a thank you for last time.” You mumble your thanks with a mouthful of food, briefly remembering the time you covered for his ride home after one drink too many.

“You’re godsent, you know that?” His smile turns into a smirk at that and you roll your eyes when you see you’ve stoked his ego. “Before you say ‘I know’, take out that notepad.” His smirk drops and a look of concentration comes onto his face.

“You know, sometimes I like to think you keep eating lunch with me because you like me or that we’re friends or something. But I also tend to think you only keep me around for my work.” He’s teasing you again and you tap the top of his notepad.

“You’re very much aware how much I like having you around. And I’m very much aware about how much you love to collect the information. Sometimes I think you only come back to hang out with me is because I’m not as tightlipped as some of my peers and give you things you can actually report on.” Sehun chuckles at that and the crinkle around his eye is back with that childlike glimmer in the eyes. He looks a lot more at ease than his funky smirk and that impish gleam instead.

He uncaps his pen with his mouth, his other hand busy flipping to a brand-new page and holding a worn notepad with too many torn papers taken from it. He keeps the cap in his mouth and hums for you to signal he’s ready.

“She’s 15.” His eyebrows furrow and a lisped curse slips out of him as he jots it down. He shakes his head sadly at that. “Last seen at the mall with her friends. Eyewitnesses say that she was roaming one of the stores alone before she disappeared. Camera footage doesn’t pick her up leaving the mall, but it’s been picked clean.”

“Has her friends or family said anything about behavior? Being more secretive or distant lately?” Sehun’s habit of keeping the pen cap in his mouth makes his words very mumbled and hard to understand. However, being around him and working with him so often has gotten you used to his silly sounded sentences. You still reach over to pluck it from his lips and snicker that his playfully annoyed glare.

“You don’t think I’ve asked? No, parents and friends claim that nothing was up. They let me in her room and let me search to find any hidden notes. Even let me look through her diary and it was just about some kid drama at school. Seemed ordinary to me, nothing that made me have to investigate this drama. She’s not a part of it anyways, just commenting about how it’s the talk of the halls and dumb.”

Sehun taps the pen against his cheek while your fingers are fiddling with the cap. He’s obviously not to report your words verbatim as it’s not really relevant, but he does appreciate how you share your findings with him. He appreciates your trust in him that he doesn’t skew the details or add too much personal information about these people. He appreciates how you let your thoughts wander with him. You tend to loosely think around him, bouncing ideas off of him every so often or word vomiting to better understand things as you try to explain.

You’d finished with your food while Sehun continues writing and jotting down notes, most likely questions or other tidbits not too concerning for you. Whenever he asks a question he needs for the article you respond and then nudge his plate so that he eats. It goes on like this a couple moments longer until he’s out of food and questions. He finishes jotting down whatever else he wants to and sticks the tip of his pen out to you. You, used to this procedure, cap his pen and look back up into his satisfied eyes. You scoff at his smug look and avoid his gaze as he rests his chin in his hand. He continues to stare at you while you pick at any crumbs you find interesting.

“Got everything you need?”

“How about we get some dessert?” You almost object and tell him you should be back by now until he starts collecting his things and getting out of his seat. “And don’t worry. I’ll pay. You just have to pay me back next time.” You sink lower into your seat in defeat and groan, rubbing your hands over your face. He laughs a little and stands behind your seat, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Come on, Sugar. You’re gonna need some sugar to keep functioning the rest of the day.”

“You and your dumb nicknames are going to kill me before the stress from this case will.” He stops shaking you and gives you a fond squeeze of your shoulders.

“Let’s go before you die on me then.” You turn in your seat to watch him head towards the door before deciding to follow suit and grunting when you do get up. There’s a mini pep in his step and you’re guessing that’s because Sehun has another excuse to visit that favorite bakery of his that a friend of his works at. You couldn’t blame him. There were some doughnuts and cupcakes that were to die for.

As you passed by, you saw some missing persons posters hung up in some alley walls or taped to some lampposts. You’re guessing that’s how Mrs. Kim got news of the missing girl before you caught up with her. Sehun notices your gaze following the long trail of posters, most likely hung up by the gang of girls that were last with their friend. “Is that her?” The both of you come to a stop in front of a small cluster of the posters. He takes on down and holds it out in front of the both of you. You nod and Sehun folds the paper into fours and pockets it for later. “That saves me having to dig around to put that in the paper.”

He tries to keep the mood up as he hums a tune, swinging his arms around and looking around at the people walking the streets. It does little to help, but you do appreciate the thought as he glances at you every now and then to check in. He’s switched songs so many times since he opts for a different, better tune to keep him occupied. You’re trying to decipher his fifth song switch when you finally make it to the bakery.

“Kyungsoo!” Sehun sings into the shop as the door chimes noisily. Luckily, Kyungsoo isn’t tending to any customers at the moment. He pops his head out from behind the counter with a blank face and his lips drawn into a straight line. However he may look, there’s a happy sparkle in his eye at the sight of you two.

“What do you want now?” He asks sarcastically but readies himself anyways.

“I want something with chocolate.” Sehun says as he scans the overhead menu even though he knows exactly what he wants. “Please.” He doesn’t forget to add with a warm smile, which Kyungsoo returns in kind. They both turn to you expectantly and you sputter, not having anything in mind just yet.

“O-Oh! I’ll, uh… I’ll have…” You pause and bite your lips. Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed by all the choices even though you’ve been here before.

“How about some donut holes? And if you don’t like it, you can always have some of mine,” Sehun offers as he turns that warm smile to you.

“What, trying to stick with that cops eat donuts type of thing?” You joke but are grateful at the distraction from you bumbling about. Kyungsoo lets out an amused huff and prepares something for you both of you, making sure to toss in a couple extra pieces in the bag for you. You give him a silent thanks as you nod and take the bag from him as Sehun whips out his wallet in a practiced manner.

The first bite of the donut hole is full of cinnamon and a little honey. Kyungsoo’s been experimenting and you hum at the taste as you squeeze the half-bitten donut hole. As Sehun’s card is ringing up he turns to you with an eyebrow as he wordlessly asks how it tastes. Instead, you offer him the rest of your bite while you chew, and he instantly opens up his mouth to eat the rest. It’s almost like you’ve done this a million times in your life and a million more in your past lives together; you’ve known each other for that long, you think. The motion is easy and simple as he hums and turns back to collect his card and compliments Kyungsoo’s creation with his mouth full.

“It’s good. I like the new flavors, it’s better than just the boring sugar on it.” The words are muffled and both you and Kyungsoo give him a judgmental look as he wipes some of the cinnamon off the corner of his lips.

“… Thank you. I’ve been slowly trying to add more to the menu where I can,” Kyungsoo notes, and you look up again at the menu to see he’s added another couple options beside his regular few in his neat handwriting. He smiles at you again when you look back down. “Keep up the good work. Don’t push yourself, okay?”

You promise him and Sehun gently nudges you to turn and leave so he has a better exit path. It’s not like he couldn’t have gone around you, but it seems he opted to just turn and go. And with his broad shoulders, it seemed you were in his path. You nudge him back as you exit the bakery with your treats in hand.

“What are you doing tonight?” Sehun asks with his mouth full again, this time from a bite of his chocolatey pastry. Crumbs fly in the air and the snort as they do so, but your friend knows no shame and continues to look at you expectantly.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Probably looking over the case again… and waaay more paperwork than I’m happy with.”

He hums at that as he continues to walk you back to the station. You feel like he’s about to ask you something else, but you’re cut off by your phone ringing and his own buzzing with a couple messages.

“Breaks over.” He comments with a sigh as he scrolls through the messages and tries to type back with the same hand that grips his phone.

“It is.”

The both of you look at each other and trade another bite of each other’s treats. You took a bite of his mainly since you wanted something sweet, and he had his own bite since you felt like you had to repay him for it. He gives you a wave as he, thankfully, doesn’t shout with his mouth full of donut as he heads off to his office building. While you head back, you manage to catch the phone call on its last couple of rings before it could go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“It’s Boa. You have a couple more files on your desk regarding the girls,” she says with a tired sigh. You know the chief thinks this is wasting time and resources, but you also know she wants to give these girls justice. “Some more schedules of their routines, some stuff they had upcoming, and some chat histories. There’s also someone waiting at the station to talk to you, a friend of the most recent one.”

“I’m on my way.”

“Good,” she states and hangs up the call. You huff and make your way back to the station with a quickened pace. You wonder what this friend has to say since you’ve interviewed the family and teachers recently. Your mind is still reeling with possibilities when you make it back and find a familiar face at your desk.

“Yena, what can I do for you?” You ask kindly as you take a seat by the high school girl. She has a puffiness around her eyes that indicate she hasn’t been able to get a lot of sleep and has probably been crying a lot. You offer her some of your donut holes and she politely declines by holding a hand up before thinking of the right words to say.

Yena was the same age as her missing friend, 15 with a short bob and still wearing her school uniform. You’re wondering if she skipped school to come here, and she confirms your suspicions as she wrings her hands. “I just give you these. I found these in Chae’s locker, it’s some of her notebooks and some flyers. These events are all in the past, but one of them is her dream journal. We both keep one to achieve our dreams, except she doesn’t share hers because she thinks that the dream won’t come true then.”

You take the stack of papers and notebooks from her, eyeing the one she was referring to. It can’t be mistaken with the doodling, stickers, glitter, and large words that say ‘DREAM JOURNAL!’ right on the front.

“Thank you, Yena.” You say kindly, knowing that you’ll have even more to sort through and probably come out empty handed with, but every little bit helps. If you could be armed with even that much of a toothpick, you’d count it as a win.

“I just want my best friend to come back. That’s all I’ve been writing about in mine! I want her to come home.” Her eyes water and you push a box of tissues to her. She takes a shaky breath and dabs at her eyes gently and you realize that her eyes are redder than you thought. She dabs to prevent further irritating her eyes that have been covered in makeup to hide just how bad she’s been taking it.

“I promise, you won’t need a journal to make that come true, okay?” You say gently and comfort the poor girl. It’s another 15 minutes before she gets up and leaves, going back to school she promises.

You sigh as you look at the stack of notebooks she gave you. It was all her school notebooks besides her dream journal, which you knew wouldn’t be much of a look through unless you wanted to relieve your high school days and quiz yourself on whatever the kids were learning these days.

“You know, you shouldn’t be promising things like that.”

“Jongin, that girl was crying.”

“And you don’t think she won’t be if you can’t deliver that promise?”

You clench your hands into fists, narrowing your eyes on the word that seems to be mocking you right now. Because it might be true, you can only ‘DREAM!’ that this will all come to a happy end. Jongin sighs and pats your back.

“I’ll help you get through like 3 of those. Make sure it’s all just random notes so you know if they have anything that’s not about some ancient literature piece, okay?” He asks gently and you take a deep breath.

“Okay,” you say quietly and start sorting through the flyers first.

A lot of them are of school events, cram school, auditions for some of the modeling or singing agencies, and one was even a poster of an actor you recognized from a popular drama currently. You chuckled as you saw the sticky note still attached to it that indicated Chae’s wishes to marry a guy like him. A couple more hours pass in between you checking the notebooks, painstakingly flipping through and reading every page just to make sure, and having to deal with other logistical tasks around the office.

Like promised, Jongin eventually makes it through the notebooks and puts them all on your desk with a sad shake of his head. “Math, English, and Composition. All notes, most of it is textbook and following what they did in class. Anything else was practice problems or doodles. These are no good.”

You groan and hang your head. “I’ve just barely gotten through her other two notebooks. A music one from a piano unit and one she kept solely for cram school. The flyers are all past events or just random ones that I think were trash and she never got to throw away.” You look pointedly at the crumpled up flyer that was from her school’s ‘Fish Club’… whatever that’s about. “Had to get through all the other files from the girls too… nothing new. I saved that dream journal for last.”

“Why, so you can honor making sure her dreams come true?” Jongin asks with a smile, lifting your spirits some.

“Yeah…” You trail off absently. You aren’t sure if maybe you were truly keeping up Yena and Chae’s superstition about their dream journals or if you were hoping that the last thing you got to would prove you some substantial evidence. Maybe you should’ve gotten to that first if so. But then you would’ve needed to spend extra time on it. Ugh! Another sigh makes it way out of you and Jongin frowns now.

“Save that for tomorrow. How about you come out with some of us for some drinks tonight? Get that tension off you.” Jongin gives you an expectant look as he sits on your desk. You rub your face and look up at him through your fingers as you slouch in your chair. “And don’t even think about getting to that journal tonight. Your brain is fried, you need a break, you’re burning yourself out.”

You purse your lips at him and groan again, this time throwing your head back over the top of your desk chair and spinning in it a little.

“Fine. But only for a little bit.”

Famous last words. It was not just a little bit. Jongin kept you entertained and kept handing you drinks as you listened to your peers share drunken stories. Even Jongdae came in for a little bit to say hi to everyone and cry a little about his wife and kid, showing everyone pictures. You were sure that he was sober and just living the high of life.

A twinge of jealousy shot through you at him being able to enjoy his life so much right now. You downed your drink and stared at the empty cup grumpily. You felt just like the cup. Maybe you are a cup. Did your legs always feel like that?

“Woah, you doing okay?” Jongin asks as he gets into your space to take a look at you. He was pretty tipsy, but doing way better than you right now. Both in spirits and sobriety.

“Jongiiiiin, I’m like this cup.” He has to jump back a little as you shove your cup in his face. “You see how it’s wet on the outside?”

“From the ice?” He asks with a raised brow.

“I’m all sweaty!” You shout at him, suddenly feeling like the room is a lot hotter.

“No, you’re not.”

“Look! Feel!” You try to grab his hand to bring it up to your forehead and he grimaces. He shakes his head and you try a couple more times before he pins your hand to the table and reaches for his phone. “What are you doing?”

“Getting you home,” he says as he scrolls in his contacts. You try to look at the screen to see who he’s calling, but he brings the phone straight to his ear and turns a skeptical eye on you to make sure you don’t keep trying to bring his hand to probably stick you in the eyes.

You’re too distracted by pouting to care who he’s talking to. And your head hurts. The alcohol is hitting you fast. How much did you have again? Or was it because you drank the rest of your three-fourths of a cup in less than a minute? When was the last time you even drank like this? Since before you took on the first case ten months ago?

“He’s coming in 15,” Jongin says in your ear. You pop your head up from the table. You didn’t even know you had it down on the table in the first place.

“Who?” You ask sluggishly as you try to keep your eyes open. You don’t bother hearing a reply as you quickly make your way to the bathroom. It’s quieter in there, and colder too. You feel better already by giving yourself some space and time to think for yourself. Not really feeling like you need to get everything out just yet, you lean against the wall and take some deep breaths.

Eventually, there’s a knock on the door and a call for your name. It takes a couple more tries before you push yourself off the wall and wash your face.

“Oh, good. I thought I was going to have to pull your head out of a toilet bowl.”

You yell out in shock, water flinging everywhere when you look up to see Sehun in the mirror.

“What are you doing here?” Water drips off your chin and you remember that you were washing your face. You sigh and see if any got on your shirt – a lot did – and look for the paper towels to wipe.

“At the bar or in the bathroom?” He asks. You grunt in response, eyes blocked by the soggy paper you’re using to scrub the water from your eyes. “Jongin told me you had too much and needed to be brought home. And again, I was making sure you didn’t decide to punish yourself and give yourself a swirlie.”

“Why would I do that?” You grumble at him. Your head was a lot clearer thanks to the rest, you probably spent all of Jongin’s promised 15 minutes against that wall. Plus, the water cooling you off made you feel like you could at least walk to a car before passing out.

“He said you looked sad.”

“I’m not sad.”

He gives you a once over. Hair a mess, probably from the wall. Face still red, from scrubbing with that scratchy paper towel, embarrassment, or the alcohol, probably from all three. Clothes wet from you spilling two handfuls of water all over yourself. And the heavy burden of the finding of 21 girls coming crashing back down onto your shoulders.

“Yeah… you look pretty sad to me.”

“Thanks,” you bite a little harsher than you intend to. But, thanks to the one who made you build a tougher skin with a level of sass on his own, Sehun takes it all in stride and smiles. He merely grabs you by the shoulders and leads you out of the bar. Jongin nods and waves you off, keeping your coworkers distracted by the state you’re in so you don’t get teased when you come back the next morning.

Between the time Sehun came and got you and when he arrived, he had already transferred your stuff from your coworker’s car to his. You saw this when he helped you climb in and your bags of notebooks were sitting in the back seat. Sehun buckled you in and shut the door for you. The state of mind you were in currently clearly showed you could do at least that, but Sehun chose not to care and did it for you anyways while you watched him walk around the car to the driver’s seat.

“If you fall asleep, just know that I’m not carrying you inside.”

“So my knight in shining armor does have a flaw for tonight’s rescue.” You sarcastically bat your eyes at him and he chuckles, shaking his head and he starts towards your apartment.

“I meant to add that I’d probably be dragging you up those three flights of stairs. By your feet. Head hitting each step.” Before you can ask why in offense, he grins with a shrug. “You went through all that training, not me. All my muscles go to my ears for listening to you go on and on about cases.”

“I’m the reason why you have a job,” You grumble as you stare at the passing buildings. Sehun keeps that stupid smile on his face and laughs.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The ride to yours is a lot quicker than usual since at this hour it’s already late hardly any traffic. Again, Sehun is humming some songs and tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. At least this time there’s less of him switching it up since he’s forced to sing along for the whole 3 minutes. He’s still humming as he grabs all your stuff from the back seat and follows you up the stairs to your apartment. You silently curse the fact that the elevator is down for maintenance since you wish you didn’t have to climb that much while drunk. You feel even worse when you realize that Sehun took all of your bags and all of those notebooks, binders, and files are no joke. It’s a wonder that kids can carry all that on their backs plus whatever else you put into the bags.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sehun asks as you pause on the steps, a little behind you and huffing a little.

“For someone who claimed he doesn’t have the strength training to carry me up the stairs, you sure are doing real fine while walking up two and a half flights of stairs and carrying all those books.” Sehun lets out another huff, shorter than usual that let you know he was working up quite a sweat.

“I work out.” He says plainly and grins at you again, which makes you roll your eyes at the statement and continue forth. He’s been over before, plenty of times. He’s come over to bring food on your sleepless nights when you just can’t sleep or spend so long trying to work on another case.

You finally make it to your apartment and eventually into your room. Sehun had set the bags down by your couch where you already had a bunch of files spread out on the coffee table. He tuts and grabs one of the papers and gives it a quick skim.

While you change into comfortable, cleaner clothes he hums and calls out from your small space. “You really need to learn about work-life balance.” He sets the paper back down and goes about preparing you some essentials for when you wake up in the morning definitely hungover.

“You know why I can’t,” you call back as you collapse onto the bed with a groan. Your body all of a sudden feels so heavy and it’s hard to keep your eyes open. You huff into your pillow as you try to block out the haunting words of all the names of the 21 girls that prevent you from sleeping at night. That prevent you from functioning unless you can figure out a way to bring them all home.

From your couch, Sehun makes himself comfy and sighs. He folds his hands over his stomach and quietly says to himself, “Yeah… I know.”

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pawette · 1 year

Text

she/her themed neos

sh♡/h♡r . shi/hir . she/sheep . she/shell . she/shear . she/shep . zhe/zher . zhe/zhir . se/ser . sie/seir . shem/sheir . shey/shem . she/shur . shie/shier . sh*/h*r . shx/hxr . sh!/h!r . ze/zir . xe/xir . xhe/xher . xhe/xhir . ne/nir . ne/ner . shie/shurr . sh☆/h☆r . sh❀/h❀r . sh✿/h✿r . she/sher . sh🌸/h🌸r . sh🐾/h🐾r . sh♂️/h♂️r . sh⚣/h⚣r . sh♀/h♀r . sh⚢/h⚢r . sh⚧︎/h⚧︎r . sh⚥/h⚥r . sh✨/h✨r . sh^-^/h^-^r . sh>_</h>_<r . sh?/h?r . sh👁️/h👁️r . shre/shrur . be/ber . be/bir . fie/fur . fie/furr . kie/kir . zay/zhir . zay/zher . zay/zir . zay/zer . sh🎀/h🎀r . sh💗/h💗r . sh🌀/h🌀r . shh/shhir

[ PLAIN TEXT:

sh♡/h♡r

shi/hir

she/sheep

she/shell

she/shear

she/shep

zhe/zher

zhe/zhir

se/ser

sie/seir

shem/sheir

shey/shem

she/shur

shie/shier

sh*/h*r

shx/hxr

sh!/h!r

ze/zir

xe/xir

xhe/xher

xhe/xhir

ne/nir

ne/ner

shie/shurr

sh☆/h☆r

sh❀/h❀r

sh✿/h✿r

she/sher

sh🌸/h🌸r

sh🐾/h🐾r

sh♂️/h♂️r

sh⚣/h⚣r

sh♀/h♀r

sh⚢/h⚢r

sh⚧︎/h⚧︎r

sh⚥/h⚥r

sh✨/h✨r

sh^-^/h^-^r

sh>_</h>_<r

sh?/h?r

sh👁️/h👁️r

shre/shrur

be/ber

be/bir

fie/fur

fie/furr

kie/kir

zay/zhir

zay/zher

zay/zir

zay/zer

sh🎀/h🎀r

sh💗/h💗r

sh🌀/h🌀r

shh/shhir

/END PT. ]

#posted for funsies #fem neos #feminine neopronouns #neopronouns #pronoun help #pronoun hoarder #mogai pronouns #neopronoun requests #neopronoun positivity #neopronoun coining #nounself #nounself pronouns #emojiself #emojiself pronouns #emoji pronouns #symbol pronouns #feminine neutral pronouns #neutral pronouns

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looseratinthegarage · 2 years

Note

Heyyy can I get a little yautja x reader? Make up your own lil story or scenario or something, just go wild lmao

I just wanna see more thirsty pred content hehe. Please and thanks 🙏

This is about my Oc Muahrou. I hope you like it!! sorry it took so long <3

(Not proofread)

Debt

You lock your apartment door and put the keys in your back pocket. You walk down the mixed stone steps and start walking down the street. The sun had begun to set and you changed your pace to speed-walking. You make a left and walk through the emptying park, it’s a nice shortcut. You see families picking up their picnics and gathering their children. You shake your head and continue your journey. You place your hand in your pockets and repress a shiver.

You make a right and see your destination come into view. You happily skip up to the mom and pop diner and open the door, hearing a little jiggle.

“Ah, y/n, want your usual?” Mr Barone asked as he wiped the counter.

“Yes sir!” You smile and sit down at a table.

He chuckles and walks into the back. He begins barking orders at the chiefs and you shake your head fondly. You look down and pull out your phone. You scroll through social media for a moment and sigh when seeing no notifications.

You play a mindless game to pass the time while your mouth is practically watering. You look up at your battery and quickly turn the phone off. It was pretty close to dying and you’d really rather not walk home in the dark without a phone.

Mrs Barone walks out of the back with steaming food in hand. If you had a tail, it would be wagging. She giggled at your eagerness and placed the food down.

“Thank you ma’am!” You dig into your meal as if it would be your last.

“Of course, y/n! You really have to come over more often.” She smiles and pinches your cheek.

You smile back and resume inhaling your dinner. She walks behind the counter and starts counting the money in the register. Mr Barone comes out of the back and is seemingly fixated on something outside. He squints his eyes into the darkness then clears his throat and moves his attention to you. He plops down at your table on the other booth with a groan.

“It’s gettin pretty late, I’ll walk you home, don’t want any weirdos messin with ya.” He offers and leans back.

You smile at his concern and roll your eyes.

“I’ll be fine, grandpa.” You joke.

“I just want you to be safe, if I gotta be your grandfather to do that then so be it.” He laughed and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

You’ve become rather close with Mr and Mrs Barone, to the point of viewing them like family. You liked the idea of Mr Barone being your granddad, but you guessed he was only joking.

“I have my phone with me,” You try to convince him but he interrupts you.

“And you got my number?” He asks as he crosses his arms.

“Yes,” you roll your eyes fondly.

“And what do you do if something happens?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll call you,” you reassure him.

“And it doesn’t matter what time it is, eh?” He shifts slightly.

“If I ever run into trouble, no matter what time, you’ll be the first person I call.” You smile at the grumpy old man.

“That’s my boy/girl/kid.” He ruffles your hair and stands up.

He walks over to the Mrs and kisses her on the cheek as she counts. At least he seems more at ease now. You finish up your food and begin walking to the back.

“Ah, ah,” he corrects.

You sigh and place the plate on the counter. You always try to clean up after yourself but he never lets you. It’s not like you weren’t allowed back there. You’ve gone many times, often when he proudly shows you new equipment or appliances. He just never wanted you to work, guess he likes taking care of you. Not that you're surprised, he had a son that died when he was young. Leaving a big hole in his heart, one that you happily filled.

You gave them both a kiss on the cheek and tried to pay, but as you expected he didn’t let you. He asked one more time if he could walk you home but you politely declined. He sighed and nodded.

You waved to them and opened the door, hearing the jingle once again. You took a deep breath and started your walk back home. Through the park is the easiest and quickest way, even though Mr Barone isn’t a big fan.

You enter and see that all of the families have moved on long ago. You hear a crunch underneath your foot and stop. You look down and see a brown paper bag, people really need to clean after themselves. You look around for a trash can and spot one. Sadly the light post above it had gone out. You walk into the darkness and throw the bag away, feeling rather satisfied with yourself.

You turn around and begin walking away then hear a bone chilling noise. Unnatural hisses. You slowly turn around looking for the cause. If it was a cat, it’s a weird freaking cat, you’ve never heard one making these noises. Then something all black walks into the light of the moon. You gasp and start slowly backing up.

It chased you, your heart pounded so heavily you thought it’d explode. It trips you with its tail and you fall to the ground hard. You gasp for air as the wind has been knocked out of you. The creature leaped at you, you screamed but managed to roll out of the way. Then out of nowhere a strangely dressed person jumps out and stabs the thing in the back of the head. It shrieks and turns around beginning to fight them.

Everything in your body told you to run, neither of them are human. But you couldn’t move, you were frozen. You snapped back to reality and grabbed your phone. You fumbled with it and went into the calling app. While you were distracted the thing had tried attacking you. Luckily the other creature blocked the attack and pushed you out of the way. You hit the floor and your phone goes flying.

You crawl towards it and grasp it in your hand. You hastily click his name and wait while it rings. He picks up the phone quickly.

“Are you alright-” He speaks worriedly but you interrupt him.

“Please help!! I’m scared!! Aah!” You roll out of the way from the two battling creatures.

“I’m at the park!! Please!!” You cry as you watch the two fight.

You look down at the phone and your heart sinks, it died. He won’t know where you are. You throw the phone to the side and look around for something to defend yourself with. You see a fallen tree branch and bolt for it. The ‘good’ creature was on the ground. It took your brain a minute to figure out that it was going to kill him.

Without thinking you start running at the thing. You hit it over the head but the branch brakes on impact. You gulp and back up slowly as it turns around. It stabs you through the chest with its tail. The world went in slow motion and your eyes widened. Once it pulled it out, time returned to normal. You cry out and fall to the ground.

Then something shoots it, and it wasn’t the other creature. You turn your head weakly and see Mr Barone with a shotgun. It only seemingly stuns the monster, but in that time the ‘good’ one was able to strike it fatally.

He threw the shotgun into the grass and ran to your side. He knelt down and cupped your cheeks. He pulls something that resembles a coin out from his pocket and shows it to the tall bipedal. They nod and walk over to you. The last thing you remember is being picked up by rough scaly hands and Mr Barone kissing your forehead.

#horror #neutral pronouns #slashers #slasher community #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #yautja #predator #predator x reader #yautja oc #male yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x human #yautja x you #the predator 2018 #predators #alien vs predator requiem #alien vs predator

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wthtorke · 2 years

Text

Roommates Pt 3

Yautja x AFAB Reader (neutral pronouns) Part 1 / Part 2

You had seen each other before, of course. The ship was big, but the program worked so that you saw the same people often as everyone worked near each other in cells rather than just, running the ship up and down. It was easier to form bonds and fulfill the program’s objective: Interspecies mingling.

The Hybrid ship was funded out of the dream of having humans and yautjas finally come together, or at least the ship’s crew, as a start to conquer their differences.

‘Oh, the differences are being conquered alright…’ You thought as you looked around. The first week was awkward, neither species knowing exactly how to come around the other, but if the chattering and laughter all around the cafeteria was anything to go by, you’d say things were going great.

Sure, some people only wanted to be friends while others wanted to…get frisky. Nothing wrong with getting frisky. Hell, you yourself wanted to get frisky.

Which led you back to your situation at hand.

On the table in front of yours sat the object of your daydreaming. It started small, almost innocently. Everyone knew what to do and how to start conversations but it just didn’t happen for you. Your friends said you were thinking too hard and to ‘just talk’ to other people, but it was sure easier said than done.

“Well, just stare then, they’ll get the hint.” One of them said.

You weren’t being blatant about it, of course.

His name was Zazin, from what you’ve heard others call him, and he was….truly something. Now, most if not all yautjas were…really hot. But something about Zazin just knocked you off your horse, down. Bad.

Zazin was deliciously tall, towering over all humans and a good portion of his own people at 7’6 tall, which was quite something for you. You knew yautjas were somewhat closer to the reptiles back on Earth, but Zazin’s skin and gaze greatly reminded you of a snake, deadly, beautiful, you wanted to touch him but feared for your own safety, all hard muscle, and grace.

His skin was a brownish-green at his sides, the rings of various sizes painted his ribs, mingling with the darker color before coating the lighter beige of his chest which went all the way down to his abs and thighs before getting darker again at his calves. His eyes were yellow, seeming to almost glow when he looked at something hard enough.

He was a fresh Elite, from what you knew. High stamina, good looking, and brash, a combination that made you good weak in the knees.

So there you sat, fiddling with your half-empty cup as you stole glances at a full-grown Yautja like you were some sort of teenager. You sighed and looked into your cup for a second, leaning against your hand on the table. Nothing stopped you from talking to him, but at the same time, everything did. It was stupid, highly frustrating, and not at all funny. At least not to you.

You sigh again and look up. He’s not there anymore.

When?

“Over here.”

You freeze, the liquid in your cup splashing a bit as you turn to the side to catch Zazin himself standing beside your table.

You hear a small ‘busted’ from somewhere on your side along with deep chuckling you knew to be your friends, but you were too busy trying to keep under control in front of Zazin to care.

“Can I sit?”

Sit? Could he sit? Where? With you? ON you? God-

“Yes-, of course.” You swallowed as he nodded, placing his own bigger cup near yours as he sat down close to you. ‘God, he’s a furnace- so hot-,’ you think as he tucks his legs under the table.

“So.” He starts, you look up at him, feeling your throat go dry at his voice. “What have you been staring at me for?”

Oh shit.

“I-, well, I-,”

“Yes?”

“I was just-, admiring?”

His bored expression slowly melted away as he started chuckling, “Admiring?”

“Y-eah,” you mutter, picking up your cup again before his hand covers the top of it, lowering it down before you could hide in it.

Fuck.

“Strange, I could swear you looked like you wanted to talk to me?” He gets a little closer to your face, the eyes you liked so much now piercing into you as you craved so much before.

Your eyes widen, “Y-. You and me?”

He chuckles again, “Yes.” He leans back again, fingers slowly sliding off the edge of your cup, brushing against your own before retreating completely. “Unless you’d like me to leave you alone.”

“No-! No,” you clear your throat, “I, ah, well, I’d love to, um, get to know you better? And be- friends?” You stuttered

Zazin smiled, tusks slowly tugging upwards as he nodded, “Oh, we’ll be friends just fine.”

You’d come to know the meaning behind those words 3 weeks later, all the way back in Zazin’s quarters, panting and blushing as Zazin pinned you to the bed, hearing a pleased purr from him when you tightened your legs around his waist...

Well everyone, the nsfw bit of this is over on Patreon ;) and it’s so very filthy jaehbgjhefjerv I’ve set everything up as promised! Zazin’s full stories will -only- be posted on Patreon, as he’s a patreon exclusive character! So if you liked him, the good stuff will be over there, just click the link! <3

Thank you to everyone who sent me a message and took a second to like my life update stuff, hope yall are going to enjoy the Patreon content as much as I’m enjoying writing it! Thanks for sticking around and welcome everyone new!

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wri0thesley · 2 years

Note

Hey Nat, congrats on the 5555 followers!! I hope you’ll have even more in the future 💕 If you still accept requests (and if tumblr doesn’t swallow my ask >.>) could I ask for Melone with 43?

insatiable - melone x reader (1.8k)

you and melone have a special working relationship.

warnings: not sfw, minors dni. afab reader, no pronouns. pegging. reader uses a strap-on. ass fingering, copious use of lubricant, reader is dominant but it's implied that both melone and reader are switches.

"You can be rough with me," Melone says, his voice teasing, as he watches you from across the bedroom as you slowly and carefully ensure the toy attached to you is as lubricated as you can manage. "Mm, I don't mind, tesoro."

"You won't be saying that tomorrow when you're walking around pouting and rubbing your ass," you say blithely, very much aware that Melone talks a very big game but doesn't always follow through - and, of course, loves an opportunity to pout at you and try and cajole more favours.

Melone pouts now, flopping on the bed, steepling his fingers together beneath his chin. The soft wave of his golden hair and blue eyes make him look deceptively sweet; you know that Melone is anything but.

Despite the sweetness, of course, there's barely restrained hunger in his gaze as he watches.

"You could be getting yourself ready for me," you say sweetly to him, fluttering your lashes. "You've got the indignity to still be fully dressed, Mel! And you don't usually need an excuse to get out of that outfit--"

He chuckles.

"Now's no different," he tells you, immediately wiggling the skin-tight body-suit down. You get distracted yourself momentarily; as his lithe body is uncovered, the muscles shifting just beneath the skin. You know every muscle and every scar of him by heart (Melone likes to be naked in general, you've learnt - a fact that has disturbed many other members of La Squadra, and had not helped your crush before the two of you had become anything more serious), but there's still a little part of you that thrills to be allowed to see him like this.

Despite Melone being so forward, despite how often he'd flirted and winked and made insinuations at you, assassins are not often allowed intimacy. You and Melone are an exception to the rule. You know some of the other assassins would not, but you would trust Melone utterly with your life.

"Like what you see?" He asks, winking, as the fabric is dropped from the side of the bed to gather in a dark purple pool. You're reminded, too, that Melone does not wear any underwear to make sure that the line of his immaculately designed outfit is not disrupted.

He's hard, but that's not a surprise.

You keep your hand on the smooth purple of the toy, rubbing in the lubricant with slow but graceful glides, in a way that you know won't fail to make Melone shift where he is. And true to your thoughts, his mouth parts just a little, his tongue visible and wet, his eyes blown wide as he exhales slowly.

"Get on your hands and knees for me like a good boy," you say to him sweetly, picking up the little bottle and approaching him slowly. You make sure your hips sway as you walk - just enough for him to get the full effect of the apparatus of straps and silver glinting metal and purple silicone that you're wearing. His eyes follow the procession with barely constrained glee.

Melone is quick to assume the position. Hands and knees on his rumpled blankets (housekeeping is the last thing on an assassin's mind; the sheets are clean, at least. Prosciutto insists you keep on top of laundry), his lean thighs spread to present his ass to you.

"Aww," you say, taking your hand and gently trailing it down the graceful arch of his spine. "You look so slutty like this."

Melone shudders pleasantly. He likes it when you get a little sharp with him.

(He likes getting sharp with you too, sometimes. Never let it be said that you're not willing to give up your control in the bedroom. The two of you were made for one another).

You squeeze some more lube onto his ass, down the crack. Melone doesn't even start at the sensation of cool liquid - just lets out a sigh. You follow the squirt of lube with a finger, making sure you're coated in it before you gently and carefully prod at the tight ring of his ass. Melone whimpers in the back of his throat.

"You're teasing," he murmurs, and though you can't see his face you can still almost perfectly imagine it. Barely contained frustration, that cute little pout combined with a savage kind of pleasure at knowing when he does get what he wants it will be spectacular. "You can just go ahead and fuck me with them, you know."

"Oh," there's that angelic tone of voice again. Something about Melone brings it out in you. He's so nice to dominate. "I'm sorry, Mel. I should have known--"

You sink two fingers into his ass, knuckle-deep, and Melone lets out a guttural noise of pleasure.

"Di molto," he breathes, and now when you imagine his face, it's decorated with a lazy smile. "That feel good."

He clings hot and tight to your fingers, the lube helping to ease the movement as you begin to slide them in and out. You feel carefully along his insides - and when he lets out a strangled groan, you know you've found the spot that will make him see stars.

You imagine just fucking him like this for a while. Massaging and petting at his prostate until those muscled thighs shake and he whines and he comes, making a mess of his sheets beneath him. You wouldn't get to hold onto his hips and fuck him, and that would be a shame, but it would serve him right for being so bratty today--

"Not deep enough, tesoro," Melone says, breathing heavy. "I need you . . . deeper inside of me."

"This isn't good enough?" You ask him, with an extra mean rub against that spongy spot of his inner walls. "Melone, I'm hurt--"

"I want to feel you deeper," Melone insists. "I want us to be one. I want to imagine you coming in me--"

Shit. That thought - of fucking Melone so deep he feels it in his stomach, of being able to come inside of him and claim him as yours . . . the toy doesn't allow for that kind of fun, but both of you are plenty well-versed in imagination, and the imaginings that his words have put inside of your head certainly will not be satisfied just by fucking Melone with your fingers. You pull them out of him with a slick pop, and take hold of one of his sharp hipbones.

You climb onto the bed behind him.

"Yes," Melone hisses, as he feels the tip of the toy against the opening of his ass. "Cazzo. I want you inside of me."

"Have a little patience," you say to him, but there's a fire lit in your lower belly too, now. A dampness between your thighs, a heat that suffuses you all over and makes you think of nothing but fucking into Melone until he can't walk. "I'm getting to it."

You use your other hand to steady his other hip - and then, slowly, begin to sink the curved toy inside of him. Melone groans loud enough for anybody walking past the door to hear. It's a noise that goes straight to between your legs, but you're sure has Ghiaccio in the next room over sighing and clapping his pillows over his ears.

"Good boy," you pant to Melone, as you slide more and more of the toy inside of him. It's hardly a small one, but Melone takes it and takes it and you think he's almost disappointed when he feels your thighs pressing against his and knows that there's no 'deeper' for him to beg for. "We . . . we can buy a bigger one."

"It'll feel just as good when I fuck you with it," Melone says, as he gives his hips a little hump. "Mm, tesoro, I really need to feel you pound me--"

"You're insatiable," you say to Melone - but you're insatiable too. It doesn't matter that you're technically getting no stimulation as you pull most of the toy out of Melone and then drive it back in with your own hips; that doesn't even register. The sight of Melone's hole contracting around the silicone shaft, the sound of Melone's breathing getting heavier, the view of his hands clenching in the bed sheets . . . all of those feel like a tiny release in and of themselves.

It does not take long for you to slide into a rhythm. Melone helps by sliding his hips into you when you pull out, chasing the delicious drag of friction inside of him, so that it feels like a perfectly choreographed dance. The slight curve of the toy serves to hit him in that same spot you'd been so enamoured of earlier; his moans almost pornographic, but very much real.

Melone gives himself over to pleasure when it comes knocking.

You keep hold of one of his hips, but use your other hand to slide around the flat planes of his abdomen until your hand bumps against the stiffness of his cock, resting against his stomach. You're still slick with lube, and it's not hard at all to take grip of it and begin to jerk him off at the same time as you fuck him.

Melone's cry of your name is strangled. You get just a brief view of his face - all pleasure-soaked and hazy and fucked out, his forehead sweaty, his mouth swollen - before you pitch forward and begin to suck and bite at the flesh of his shoulders.

"Y-you're . . ." His words are breathless and needy. Now that he has both sides stimulated, he's losing the ability to be articulate.

Despite what people say about him and his one-track mind, Melone is one of the most intelligent men you know, and it never stops making you utterly giddy when you realise how much power you have over him at moments like this.

"Are you going to come for me?" You breathe against his neck. "C'mon, Mel. I wanna see you make a mess of yourself."

Melone pants. Your hips stroke into him hard; once, twice, three times--

And then he's shaking and trembling and you feel the hot, heavy weight of his cock twitch in your grip. You feel the spatter of his come as it decorates both the sheets and your knuckles. You practically hear the channel of his ass tighten around the intrusion inside of him--

And, more than any of that, you hear Melone's wail as all of the sensations converge on him at once and he shouts out his triumph in a voice that will have Ghiaccio banging on the wall.

You ride him gently through the orgasm, with langurously slow thrusts of your hips and careful coaxing strokes of your hand on his newly-sensitive shaft, kissing the spots you'd bitten and murmuring platitudes about how good he was.

But Melone believes in equivalent exchange, and as you're pulling the toy out of him and he's collapsed on the sheets, he murmurs into the blankets;

". . . Your turn next."

#melone x reader #melone x you #jjba x reader #melone smut #jjba smut #not sfw text #writing #5555 event fic #jojo postin #afab reader #neutral pronouns

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