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#bc like on the one hand what if he ‘left well enough alone’
luobingmeis · 2 years
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every day i feel like both the prosecutor and defense attorney for 3zun and all of my thoughts end in “would things have been different if the brotherhood was never formed” and then in every AU i make they are married and in love forever and ever
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the other five [ five hargreeves x reader ]
request: Hello! This is my first time desperately requesting a fic because the new season is SO bad 😭 Can you write a fic where the reader finds out about everything that happened between Five & Lila and then she gets taken away by one of the Fives at the deli and promising her that he’ll treat her better than OG Five (You can also add a part where OG Five finds out about this and lives to regret it)
a/n: AU where everything in that trash season was the same, except when five made the first jump in s1 he made it in his 32 yr old body bc i will not have y/n pull a zach justice (lmao)
even if lila did 😭😭
anyways basically everyone is the same age
i like to think of the five that comforts y/n as the five that explained everything to five in the last episode because that one literally felt like the five we were supposed to get, the five that was there all the first three seasons
sorry i cant stop trashing this season you guys 😭 i’m just so disappointed
summary: after breaking up with five, you make up with… well, five
part two
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“Leave me alone, Five!” You yelled in despair, pushing the man before you away, “Actually, first take me back home, you psycho! I have nothing to say to you!”
“Y/N, please, just hear me out!” Five tried to reason with you, as if anything he would say could make your heart glue itself back.
You were standing in the subway station after Five had blinked himself and you away from the family- or what was left of it, watching him at loss of words. You didn’t recognize the man before your eyes, as much as you tried. You didn’t even have time to gather all your thoughts since there was yet another impending apocalypse on its way, so your mind was completely all over the place.
Five Hargreeves was not the same Five Hargreeves you fell in love with all those years ago. He was not the same man who had stolen your heart and made you feel like you were the most precious person in the world. He wasn’t your partner anymore, he wasn’t your lover. Your boyfriend wasn’t there. You looked at this person and there was a stranger, acting as if he was the same who had hugged you, held your hand, kissed you all those many times. You were questioning everything about him now.
“Take me back!” You yelled again, ignoring his same pleas, curling your hand in a fist, “I’m this fucking close to making you ash!”
As your pure anger got the best of you, you were ready to let your powers take over for a second. Obviously you weren’t actually going to hurt him, no matter how much you wanted him to feel your pain, at least physically.
You met him six years ago, during the first time you tried to stop the apocalypse. You were also one of the extraordinary kids, but luckily enough, Reginald Hargreeves didn’t manage to adopt you- more so, purchase you. You only met Five not long after he managed to time travel back to his family in 2019 after spending all those decades by himself. Before you knew it, you were dragged into the Hargreeves family and your relationship soon after developed.
Your six year relationship that was so merry a few hours ago. Now it was crumbled, trashed.
What hurt was that it was six years only to you. Five managed to block himself seven years away from you, only in the presence of Lila.
“This is so fucking stupid,” You scoffed, fighting back the tears in your eyes, “It’s fucking over! Do you want me to spell it out for you?!”
“I want you to listen!” Five didn’t give up on arguing, “I thought I’d never see you again!”
“You didn’t want to see me again!” You screamed, wailing your hands in the air, “Fucking save it- It’s over! I don’t want to ever see you again if we survive this apocalypse! You ruined our relationship, you ruined your brother’s marriage, family! For fucking Lila!”
You hated him absolutely. The mere thought of his infidelity, of the nerve to act as if he still loved you, it was all despicable.
You grew to love all of your boyfriend’s siblings, and also your nieces and nephews, even if you and Five were not yet married. You planned to be a part of the family officially, but still wanted to focus on your careers, you wanted to adjust yourself to your old life, back to your origins.
“Y/N, please!” He tried to step, towards you, but you started stepping away.
Thoughtlessly, because of all your anger, you just walked towards the first train approaching you, fully intending to be away from him at whatever cost.
“If you don’t want to take me back, I’ll fucking find my own way!” You hopped onto the train, watching as he tried to catch up with you.
But he was too late.
In hindsight, maybe it was not the smartest idea, but you were just so devastated nothing made sense to you anymore. You spent the past six years thinking that you are set for the rest of your life, now that the world wasn’t ending anymore. You reconnected with your family, you built a career for yourself and were living happily with Five, you had literally just finished settling yourself in the new house you bought together. You couldn’t understand how he could do this to you.
You couldn’t understand how Lila could betray your friendship either, especially Diego and their kids.
You tried to make it make sense, be reasonable- it was only a few hours to you, but they were lost in this subway system for seven years.
But then again, Five was lost in the future 45 years by himself and he didn’t give up on trying to return to his family once.
Now he did, he gave up on trying to return to you.
That’s definitely another aspect that stung.
“Fucking piece of shit,” You mumbled, as the train approached its first station, “How do I fucking get out of here?”
You stumbled out of the sub, taking in your surroundings. It was yet another crumbled down station, but if you were to be at least a tiny bit fair, it was maybe a bit better kept. You looked around curiously, trying to figure out where to go from now on. Your fire-based superpowers were totally useless in this situation, so you hated to admit that you were in a bit of a pickle.
You rolled your eyes, as Five rounded the corner and stopped in his tracks, watching you with widened eyes.
“You again?” You sighed angrily, “Take me back or get out of my sight, Five.”
Five raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets curiously. He didn’t say a word yet, as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He slowly stepped towards you, not taking his eyes off you once. For a split second, you stopped as well, sending that something was up.
You took in his features, trying to make sense of what was going on, realizing that he didn’t have a coat on him. He was wearing the exact three piece suit an black tie, he was wearing the same silver watch on his left hand, but he didn’t have his coat on.
“Y/N,” He smiled, stopping in front of you, “I never thought I’d see you again, more so here.”
“What the fuck is going on?” You calmly asked, over-analyzing the man before you.
His smile didn’t drop. It was a genuine one, a smile you hadn’t seen in a while. Things between you and Five were okay a few hours ago, but he hadn’t watched you with this look since you first met. His eyes were sincere, taking in every single feature of yours, traveling all over your body.
“I take it your Five danced the devil’s tango with Lila,” He sighed deeply, raising a hand to gently brush away your tears.
When did you even start crying?
Your mind was scrambled all over the place, but at that exact moment you couldn’t say another word. You just melted into his touch, feeling warmth. It really hadn’t been that long since Five touched you, but this touch felt different. His hand rested on your cheek, as his thumb caressed you lightly. His touch was so intoxicatingly sweet, sending shivers down your spine.
“I’m so sorry I’m a literal shitface in some other timelines,” He lightly shook his head, “I’m so sorry.”
“What is going on?” You asked once again, calmer this time.
For whatever reason, you relaxed in an instant. You couldn’t tell if it was because of his gentle touch or simply his presence. Ironic, since just ten minutes ago you were ready to set him on fire.
“Come with me, my love,” Five said, grabbing your hand in his, “I’ll explain everything.”
You didn’t fight his touch, locking your fingers with his. None of you said a word, as you watched you hands fit so perfectly in one another. How could your relationship be over when you were so good together?
You followed Five through the subway station, rounding the same corner he appeared from. You watched as he turned his head to give you a reassuring smile, lightly squeezing your hand in comfort.
After a few more steps and going down a couple of stairs, you widened your eyes seeing a literal deli tucked away in this godforsaken out of order subway system. The headlights above the front entrance were lit up, writing Max’s Delicatessen. You saw inside a huddle of people as you entered, gathering everyone’s attention.
When they all turned to look at you, you literally couldn’t tell whether you or the huddle of people was more shocked.
They were all Fives.
There was music playing inside, as the deli was full of different versions of your boyfriend, whether they were customers sitting at the tables, drinking coffee or having a meal, reading the newspaper or having a chat. There were also other Fives working around, waiting tables or cooking in the back.
Nonetheless, they all stopped to look at you.
“Yeah, yeah, Y/N is here, carry on, you guys,” The Five that was holding your hand waved the others off with his free hand, “She needs a moment, stop being creeps.”
“I can’t tell if this is a dream come true or my worst nightmare,” You said, looking around the deli, as Five guided you towards an empty booth.
You sat down as the other picked up again whatever they were doing, still watching you with the corner of their eyes. Five took a seat in front of you, still holding onto your hand on top of the table, using his other hand to rub small circles on your skin.
“I am not the Five that dragged you here, in case you didn’t tell yet,” Five managed to say, “But I’m pretty sure that you did, since I know you’re smarter than he gives you credit for.”
“He did mention that this subway system is the knot to multiple timelines,” You sighed, as Waiter Five set down two cups of steaming coffee on the table.
You watched him curiously, as he looked yet again exactly like Five, wearing just a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, with a black tie, pantsuit pants and a server apron around the waist. He smiled at you warmly, setting down two small packs of sugar and a creamer.
“I’m sorry, my love, we don’t have any Irish Capuccinos around here, since you’re the first Y/N to set foot in here,” He apologetically smiled, “I can only get you a shot of whiskey, if you’d like.”
Of course they all knew your favorite coffee.
“Make it a bottle,” You said, cracking a smile for the first time, causing him to chuckle, before walking away to attend to your order.
“I can’t begin to explain how much I missed your smile, darling,” The Five before you said, as you turned back to him, “The Handler got to the Y/N in my timeline,” He added, as sadness took over his eyes, “I missed you so much.”
“I can’t understand how you’re the same Five that fell in love with Lila,” You said, before quickly adding, “I mean- technically, you’re not, but still.”
“Everyone around here is a different version of me, from a different timeline,” He said, “I’m one of the many that didn’t go down that road.”
“Thank you, I guess,” You laughed, making him smile again.
What a sweet smile it was.
“When I lost you, I was a total wreck,” He confessed, as you couldn’t help but place your other hand on top of his, “I love you so much, Y/N, I could never hurt you like that no matter what. This is all such a fucked up turn of events, but when I saw you coming out of that train, my mind froze.”
“I love you too, Five,” You said, “But I need to wrap my head around what is going on- Everything is insane, I mean I’m right now in the middle of yet another apocalypse, I just found out that you love Lila and there’s just so fucking many of you.”
“I know, my love, I know,” Five nodded, “I wouldn’t dare to ask you accept everything so fast, I know it’s a lot to take in.”
“Can you just… hold me?” You asked, watching as he didn’t waste another second and got up to slide ne t yo you in the booth.
Wrapping one arm around your shoulders to pull you into his chest, he used his other one to caress your hair. You nuzzled your face into his shirt, taking in his scent, as you felt a wave of certitude wash over you. Five held you tightly into his arms, embracing you after years of your absence. He was grateful to have you in his arms once again.
And he was not about to let go anytime soon.
“I’ll always hold you, my love,” Five muttered, peppering small kisses in your hair.
The Five from your timeline watched from behind the window as you took comfort in his arms, but not exactly his arms.
This was only the beginning of his lifelong regret.
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dreamlandcreations · 5 months
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In your honour
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Feyd-Rautha x Reader
Summary: Feyd tricks you into engagement...
Warnings: implied Atreides!Reader (bc I can't help but ship that ship most) = enemies to lovers (to be), Reader is a bit of a judgy little grump, harassment, misogyny, fight to the death, Feyd is a smitten sneaky little menace, made up Harkonnen customs, hints of angst here and there
🖤 special thank you to @stopeatread and @kasagia for the comments that kept me going 🖤
~ 1,8K words
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The celebration for eliminating the Fremen threat was planned to last for a week. You had more than enough of it on the first day though, of the party, of the people, of the black and white planet altogether. You wanted to leave but that would be an insult to the Harkonnens, the hosts of the event, and the fragile peace between your families couldn't take a blow like that.
The Baron was gracious enough to give your family the credit that was due for this achievement, and as one of the honoured guests, you had to be present for all of these nights of celebration, form start to end.
The smalltalk bored you to death, the men were looking at you like meat, and the way the Baron treated the servants made you sick. No, scratch that, the Baron made you sick.
The only remotely good thing was surprising to say the least. The na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, who shared your feelings towards the gathered nobles and who proved to be not just an excellent company for your brooding through most of the days you've had to spend here so far but his presence also scared away the men who wanted to try to make a decent or indecent proposition to you.
When you mentioned the offers you received Feyd became irritated but his slightly teasing and a bit accusatory questioning of your too high standards covered up the real reason behind his increasing anger. He didn't want anyone else to even have a chance to have you. It was only the third day of knowing you but he knew he will not be able to let you go. His initial amusement and fascination quickly became an unstoppable obsession and you had no idea.
Not even when the conversation went as far as him trying to convince you that you should take a chance with someone sooner or later and you might have a say in the matter unlike most noble ladies. Your answer stayed with him for the next few days.
"I have no illusions, I know there's no such thing as a perfect match but I want someone who will not try to change me, who I can trust just as much as they can trust me. Someone who would care for me even if love is not an option, someone who could be gentle with me."
That did not help with his anger. He knew it was not your intention but you basically told him that he had no chance. Trust? Care? Kindness? That was everything you can't find in his family. Feyd-Rautha was very well aware he was not right for you but no matter what the tiny little voice of what's left of his conscience told him, he couldn't let you go.
The opportunity came on the second to last day of the celebrations. He had other obligations, so you were left alone to mingle. Feyd kept an eye on you but he didn't notice the Harkonnen general approach you until you made a scene.
The general fell on his knees from the force of your hit that also broke his nose. He quickly recovered though, standing up in a quick motion, stepping into your personal space once again as he threatened you.
"You will pay for that," he said as he tried to grab you again but you stepped back, kicking him in the knee, making him stumble again.
"Try to put your hands on me again and I will end you," you practically growled your response but it only elicited a mocking laugh from the entitled man.
"If you want a fight, little witch, name your champion," he taunted as he straightened once again.
"I can fight my own battles." You declared with your head held high, not letting this excuse of a man making you feel small under his towering height.
The fool tutted at you like you were an ignorant child. "Not here, you can't."
Before you could respond a now familiar, oddly rough and soft voice declared, "I will fight for her."
The gasps across the room were followed by eerie silence. The natives of this planet knew what that meant, the na-Baron was not from your family or in your servitude, therefore, according to thier law his offer changed the challenge and now the price was much higher than the question of your honour.
He descended down the stairs from where he was talking with his uncle and some other nobles not a minute ago. It was a slow, predatory display of movement that made you shiver.
Feyd stopped in front of you but didn't take his eyes off the general until the man confirmed the acceptance of the challenge with a nod. The foul man had the audacity to grin at you with a dark intention of what he will do if he wins.
You look away from that as the na-Baron finally turns to you. His expression is unreadable as he studies you in silence.
"Why?" you finally ask.
His lips pull to a smile but he stops it as he leans in to be level with your downcast eyes. "Why not?"
You clench your fists, insisting,"I am perfectly capable of fighting."
"As he said, that's not how things work here." He bent down until his lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver for an entirely different reason as he whispered, "Maybe you can give me a private demonstration later?"
You huffed, pushing at him by a hand on his chest. He let you but he caught your hand and kept it there, right above his heart as he looked down at you with an unsettling smile glinting in his eyes.
"Show me your blade," he orders, finally letting go of your hand but holding your gaze captive with his.
You take in a shuddering breath as you reply, "I don't know what you're talking about. We were searched for weapons..."
He cuts you off with an amused and accusing look, his brows, or rather where they would be raise in a mocking but expectant move as his drags his gaze slowly over your face and neck, right to the place where your breasts are straining against your dress' corset with each heavy breath.
Your lips part in surprise and that makes him look up, mesmerised for a second before he delivers a more impatient form of that taunting look. Clenching your jaw, you look away for a second, a half shake of your head at this situation is all you can afford. Then you reach into the front of your dress, pulling out the hidden blade and hand it to him.
Fey studies the intricate design of the sheath of the weapon before pulling the blade out, testing the edge against his fingertips. His full lips turn up in a satisfied smile and you are about to comment on it when he presses the sheath to your lips, stunning you once again.
He keeps the light smile as he moves your right hand again to grab the item, his hold sliding from your hand to your wrist as he guides your moves, settling the piece above your heart, making you cross your arm across your chest.
Your heart is beating at an insane beat as you eye him with suspicion, very deep down realising what is about to happen.
"Why are you doing this?" you whisper, scared to even make the question, let alone hear the answer.
He grins at you, saying, "Don't worry, I will collect my reward after I dealt with him."
With that he stepped back, putting your blade to his lips and mimicking the gesture he made you perform, then he walked away from you to go back to the podium where his opponent was already waiting for him.
They stood at a few feet from each other, in fighting stance, ready to attack the moment the Baron would let them.
The fight would have been quick but Feyd had other plans.
It was plain to see that the na-Baron was a far better fighter. And given the stories, you know the general must have seen the younger man fight in the arena before so you concluded that he indeed was an utter fool.
You stood there where he left you, surrounded by the morbidly fascinated audience that was witnessing his display. Because that's what it was a show put on for everyone to see.
Yes, he wanted to make the bastard suffer but it was more than that. This will be an example of what happens when someone tries to take away what is his, and all the while it is a chance to show his true power over a real opponent. So Feyd attacked, cut and then retreated to observe the man then he repeated the process. Again and again, until the general couldn't stand. Then Feyd-Rautha cut his throat with a swift move as the defeated man was kneeling before him.
The Baron laughed and spoke to the room, announcing that his nephew just won a wife and everyone was staring at you with disbelief while Feyd-Rautha was basking in his victory. You didn't hear or see any of it though, your focus solely on him, already knowing your fate without anyone telling you.
The next thing you knew the na-Baron was marching towards you and he grabbed you by your nape, pulling you into a forceful kiss. His lips pressing on yours, teeth biting into your lower lip, probably drawing blood as he demanded your surrounder. You gasped at the pain, granting him his wish of you opening up to him and he didn't hesitate to deepen the kiss, claiming you publicly while your knees wobbled and you were holding onto him for dear life.
When he finally leaned back, he was smiling as he cupped your cheek with his free hand. "Aren't you going to congratulate me, my lovely bride?"
"Why? You already claimed your reward." Your answer was filled with anger but he didn't mind, he will make you forgive him, he was sure of it. But he couldn't help himself with a little more teasing because he liked to see that fire in your eyes.
"Not yet, my darling. Although if you can't wait for the wedding night, I wouldn't be against it."
You scoff and look away, your gaze finding your father and his mentat discretely arguing then looking back at you. They answer your silent question with a sorrowful expression and your father lightly shakes his head, meaning there is no way to avoid this.
Witnessing the exchange, Feyd clenches his jaw, and he roughly grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"No!" he quietly growls through his teeth. "You are mine."
With that, he closes the distance between you again, this time kissing you longer and in a much more gentle manner despite his anger at your reaction. It's a promise that he hopes you understand. For you, he will try.
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sanakiras · 2 months
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LIAR, LIAR!
PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader
❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞
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WORD COUNT — 17k
SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.
TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help
♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you
NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D
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[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ JUMP TO PART TWO ]
i. ASK ME THE TRUTH AND I’LL TELL YOU A LIE
the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.
“on september 2nd, around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police receives a call from you, saying your father hung himself.”
you stare at the the inspector — whose name you did not bother remembering — before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”
with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”
“no, i don’t.”
“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what exactly happened, since there were no witnesses.”
“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”
he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that were the case?”
“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”
“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.
all you can do is sigh. “i was his daughter in blood and name only. nothing more.”
with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”
that sparks your interest. “who?”
the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.
“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.
“what can you tell me about him?”
leaning back in your chair, you list a few things. “he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”
“anything else?”
keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”
“any particular reason why?”
“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”
the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”
“such as?”
his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”
your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”
“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”
“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”
“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”
scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.
this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.
you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.
which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.
your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.
and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.
as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.
“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.
his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”
“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”
your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”
“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”
he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”
it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.
“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”
he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”
“neither am i.” you state. like always, there’s a tangible coldness to your voice, which he finds soothing, for whatever reason.
it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.
a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair.
you proceeded to laugh in his face.
mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.
“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”
instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”
you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”
a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”
only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.
so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.
mingyu only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.
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ii. THE HATRED WE BEAR
you find yourself staring at your father’s tombstone with a numb face and the wind breezing through your hair. your makeup is slightly smudged under your eyes from the tears you shed just an hour before, while you were giving the public a final speech regarding his passing.
the funeral was long — too long.
at a certain point, once the whole thing was done and everyone left, you decided to take a quiet moment for yourself in the graveyard to let everything sink in.
you made the mistake of thinking you’d left alone.
a voice you’re too familiar with speaks up behind you. “i’m sorry for your loss.”
of course it’s kim mingyu out of all people who’s still here, sneaking up on you.
you don’t have the energy to make a snarky comment this time. “i’d ask why you’re still here, but it’s a question i already know the answer to.”
he still offers you his answer. “i’m here to check up on you.”
well, that takes you by surprise. “why?”
“you lost the one parent you had left. i don’t want you to be alone.”
something about that sentence fuels a sudden anger in you. he’s got some fucking nerve, saying that to you. “maybe you should’ve considered that a couple years ago. you know, before you decided to become my dad’s little protege.”
even as a little girl, your bond with your father was a shitty one. your mother passed when you were young, so you barely have any memories left of her.
in an attempt to win his love and affection, you always did everything your father asked of you, yet your efforts were hardly acknowledged. you found him to be a harsh and cruel man, but surely with you being his daughter, his only child, he must’ve cared for you. or so you always told yourself.
something about your yearning for his approval and support changed for the worse when mingyu’s mother became a prominent business partner to your father, about nine years ago. it made him spend more time with the kim family, and you have no idea how or why it happened, but mingyu became like a son for him.
you saw how well your dad treated him, and you cried for a long, long time as you compared it to his neglect towards you. for every pat on mingyu’s back, you got scolded for not being good enough. whenever he got praised, you got discarded. it’s no miracle that you came to be the way that you are. detached, perceptive, appearing to be just as unfeeling as the man who raised you.
you hated your father. with all your heart.
but you grew to hate kim mingyu more.
so to hear him say that he doesn’t want you to be alone — that takes the goddamn cake.
he lowers his head at your words. “it wasn’t like that.”
“right. of course it wasn’t.” your voice is painfully spiteful.
“i wouldn’t have done it if i knew it was at your expense. i’m sorry.”
he’s trying to be nice to you, not understanding yet that it’s actually doing more damage, making you angrier. “the last thing i want is your fucking pity.”
“then what do you want?”
“nothing you can give me.” it’s a subtle final warning coming from you, because you’re actually about to explode at him. “just leave me be.”
“please, just... i wanna help you.”
like a ticking time bomb, you suddenly hit your limit. finally, you turn around, facing him, and it’s only then that he truly sees how upset you are, like a storm suddenly changing its direction, and he’s in the way.
“help me? you’d help me by getting the fuck out of my face. you wanna know what i want, mingyu? i want to know what in god’s name everyone loves so much about you, what it is that made my father shut me out completely and replace me with you. he gave you more love than he ever gave me. just looking at you makes me sick. what the fuck did he see in you that he didn’t see in me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from pouring your emotions out to the guy in front of you. “why did he hate me so much? even in death, he favors you over me. he left you... everything. a final ‘fuck you’ to his own child. and for what? for you?”
the fact that you got word from your father’s lawyer that your father chose to leave everything he had to mingyu instead of you was like the straw that broke the camel’s back.
throughout your life, you always did what was expected of you. you were the perfect daughter.
and for what?
the fact that your father grew to hate you and love this asshole so much that he left you not a single penny to your name — that is your tipping point.
and mingyu just wordlessly allows you to continue ranting, almost as if he deserves it.
“what the fuck is so special about you, huh? because i don’t get it. sure, you’ve got a nice face and you’re a smart guy, but i don’t believe you actually give a shit about others. i bet you came here today to rub my dad’s inheritance in my face — you fucking pretentious douchebag.”
“i’m sorry. i never meant—” he stumbles, nearly falling over as he backs away while you keep stepping forward, feeling surprisingly small in front of you, in spite of his tall frame.
“i don’t give a shit if this is what you intended to happen or not! i’m all alone.” you show your sadness right between the anger and hostility, vulnerable in front of him. “no family like everyone else, no money, no house, nothing. abandoned by the one person i had left.”
he looks at you as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. he’s never even shown you a hint of vulnerability — nor have you for that matter — so why is he showing it now?
you’re too deep into your breakdown to think rationally about it. “you took literally everything that i had. and i’ll never forgive you for that.”
“please, let me—let me fix it.” he chokes out, as overwhelmed by your strong emotions as you are yourself.
the harshness of your words makes him feel like he’s crumbling in your presence. “talk to me like you care about me one more goddamn time, and i’ll make you regret ever meeting me in the first place.”
in all the years that you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him flinch — you doubt any of your words have ever hurt him.
until this moment, it seems. but why is he even hurt? you don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about you. it’s always been that way, and you have a hard time believing it’ll ever change.
the moment you walk away from him with a sharp pain in your chest, pushing him to the side by his shoulder, he’s left behind in a shocked and bewildered state, neither of you aware that a pair of curious eyes witnessed the whole exchange.
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iii. ULTERIOR MOTIVES
“the full inheritance of your father has been transferred over to you.”
the cup of tea you were raising stills with your hand. your eyes narrow at your lawyer as you’re seated in the garden of your father’s estate. “what—how? why? it wasn’t passed down to me.”
“no, but the person it was passed down to can always make the decision to pass it on. and he did — surprisingly with no strings attached,” he tells you, putting the document from the notary in front of you, “i had it all double-checked. everything’s there, the documents signed by kim mingyu himself.”
just hearing the name makes you grimace, putting you off your tea. “and there’s absolutely nothing he wants from me?”
“nothing was mentioned, no. he did, however, leave you a note.”
“what does it say?”
your lawyer raises his brow as he reads it, handing it to you instead of reading it out loud, which makes you give him a puzzled look before casting your eyes downwards to the piece of paper.
tomorrow, 4:30, my apartment. all you have to do is sign the papers. i look forward to the day you’ll make me regret meeting you.
“that asshole.” you mutter to yourself, not loud enough for your lawyer to hear it, but he’s certainly got an idea of how you feel about the whole situation.
“you do, of course, always have the option to reject the inheritance, but i would highly recommend not to. frankly, in all of my years of experience in this field, i’ve never felt a bigger need to encourage a client to take a deal.”
once you’ve picked up the documents and skimmed over the words, you look back at him. “and if i did accept it, it wouldn’t contain any possible implications for me in the long term?”
“none. it is... fairly remarkable he’s willing to give you the full inheritance for nothing in return, even if he and his family are known for their wealth. but it wouldn’t be a significant loss for him, considering the capital he already has to his name.” the man explains, not needing to spell it out for you.
you put down your cup. “knowing him, i’m not so sure he doesn’t want anything. i suppose i’ll have to talk to him about it myself, tomorrow.”
your lawyer highly encourages you to do so, leaving you to spend the rest of the day wondering what he could possibly want from you.
and so the following day, at 4:30 sharp, you step into his apartment — penthouse is the more fitting term. you’ll admit, though, that he’s got style.
it’s dead silent in his place, save for the metronome in the background and the slow brew of his coffee machine. he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black trousers as he approaches you. “glad you could make it. coffee?”
“why are you willing to give me the inheritance?” you ask directly, not feeling up for the unnecessary chitchat. you’ve always hated small talk. “if it was just a set-up, i’m leaving.”
he doesn’t seem to be even the slightest bit surprised by your forwardness. “i’m willing to give it to you because a) i don’t need it, and b) i don’t want it. i think it’s ridiculous your dad set up his will like this.”
“well, that makes two of us.” you fake a polite smile, clearly very sarcastically, putting your hand on your hip. “you asked me to come sign the papers, but i have yet to see them.”
mingyu smiles a little at you. of course you’d skip straight to business — you never were a girl of many words. he walks over to a cupboard and takes a sealed folder with the documents out of a drawer, handing it to you.
when you attempt to take the folder from him, he swiftly retracts his hand like the asshole he is. “it’s not completely free, though.”
you pinch the bridge of your nose. “of course. i should’ve known better than to believe you were willing to do something out of the kindness of your own heart.”
he just keeps going as if he didn’t hear you, very much used to the little quips you throw at him by now. “don’t worry, i think you can manage this very small task for me.”
“just tell me what you want already—”
“my family’s hosting a gala next week, on friday. i’d like you to be my date.”
you’re baffled. this is what he wants in return for the inheritance worth millions of dollars? to have you on his arm for a single night?
oh, hell no. you’re not falling for it.
“why? you wanna publicly humiliate me or something?” you question, a deep frown settled in your forehead.
he huffs, annoyed that you’d think that low of him. “i know we’ve always hated eachother, but, maybe, during a hard time… it would be nice to have one relaxed night. and yeah, i wouldn’t mind doing that with a pretty girl to keep me company. what do you say? deal?”
not once in all the years you’ve known him has he ever called you pretty.
“fine. but don’t think about pulling any stunts.”
“wouldn’t dare.” his smile sits somewhere beween teasing and serious when he finally hands you the papers.
you sit down and briefly scan the documents, not signing them right away to have them checked by your lawyer first. “if everything in this is according to the plan, you’ll have them signed by tomorrow morning.”
“okay. see you friday.” he winks at you, escorting you to his front door, a subtle grin on his face that gives off the impression he’s planning something, and you can only imagine what it might be.
there is one good thing about having to spend time in his family home, though — and that’s to search his rooms to find anything that might implicate him having something to do with your father’s murder.
since there’s still a culprit to be named.
with your own agenda in mind, you walk out of his apartment, searching for the name of your stylist in your contacts.
you’re going to need a dress, after all.
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iv. A PROPOSAL
with a stern look on your face, you look at the entrance of the gala from the tinted window of your car. it’s all bright lights and colorful decorations, candles, flowers — the kim family is well known for their luxurious and memorable parties. you’ve attended plenty of them. while you and mingyu may not get along, his sister and mother are genuine sweethearts, some of the kindest and most welcoming people you know.
if only you could say the same for the asshole you’re about to spend the evening with.
after checking your makeup in the pocket-sized mirror for a final time, your driver opens your door so you can step out of the car, which leaves you on your own in front of the stairs.
mingyu originally mentioned he wanted to pick you up at your home like the gentleman he very much claims to be, but you very quickly shut the idea down and told him you’d just meet him at his family’s mansion.
so here you are.
attending a gala only a month after your father’s funeral must seem like an… interesting choice, to say the least. the people you come across express their condolences and ask if you’re doing well — you wonder if the sentiment is real or not — and you tell them you’re here because it serves well as a distraction.
you’ve become an excellent liar over the years.
as you’re standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing, you observe the people on the dance floor below. those who aren’t dancing are chattering, the noises of clinking glasses and laughter filling your ears.
most of the time, you’re able to somewhat enjoy this life. but the truth is that it can be as exhausting as it is glamorous.
but with your last living parent gone, you do feel a sense of freedom, even if it is lonely at times.
not like you didn’t feel lonely when he was still alive.
you didn’t love him or care for your father. you cared for the hope that someday he would change. that he would show you he did care for you, even a little bit.
but that day never came.
he was primarily an investor, so at least you haven’t been burdened with having to take over a business or anything like it. having no siblings either, you feel like you should take this opportunity to start fresh; focus on building your own career and use your father’s money for things he’d never approve of.
suddenly, you spot your date in the midst of the crowd, breaking you out of your train of thoughts. his half-long hair looks pretty on him, you have to admit, the few strands in front of his face paired with the tailored, navy suit giving him the appearance of a model.
he’s currently talking to an older woman who clearly seems to adore him, the smile he puts up making her give him a gentle, loving squeeze on his upper arms. like always, no one is able to read the bitterness you feel as your face remains neutral.
growing up in your restricted social circle of the country’s wealthiest families, your group of peers wasn’t extremely big. you all went to the same primary school, same private high school. mingyu was always one of if not the most popular kid at school. an effortless ace at every fucking thing. everyone loved him, be it your peers or their parents.
you wouldn’t say you weren’t popular. quite the opposite, actually. your best friend was the queen bee of the school, as she was always striving to be the best in everything. top of the class, highest achievements, a true perfectionist at heart. bold, definitely a bit judgemental and classist too, but once she’s your friend, she’s the sweetest girl in the world. she did like to dabble in some drama with others if it came onto her path.
and you were the opposite. you preferred to steer clear of any drama, much preferring to watch it unfold from the sidelines — as you usually just didn’t care enough to interfere with it — and you were never quite as talkative as your best friend.
the sentences leaving your mouth are always quick, direct, sharp and without stutter. you’re masterful at small talk, even though you hate it. you know how to play people like a fiddle. your father made you use your manipulation skills to good use rather frequently.
many consider you cold and calculated.
which is true, of course. but you still have a heart, even if it barely beats.
the outburst you gave mingyu after your father’s funeral must’ve come as a shock to him. no one has ever seen you in such a vulnerable and weak state, and out of all the people who could’ve seen it, it naturally had to be him — and that makes you uncomfortable.
once he’s finished his conversation, he looks in front of him, then up at the balcony — and he locks eyes with you.
you give him a look of acknowledgment, but that’s it. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, still shining as brightly as ever, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can. “i’m sorry i wasn’t at the entrance to greet you, i didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”
“it’s fine.”
he glances up and down, admiring the dress you chose. “you look gorgeous.”
the deeply dark green dress with its boat neckline, long and fitted sleeves and intricate gold embroidery makes you look elegant. with the dress itself already being quite the statement piece, you chose to pair it with dainty earrings, your hair half-up and curled.
“thank you.” you don’t bother saying anything about his appearance. he must be used to it at this point.
“can i get you something to drink?”
you test the waters by throwing in a joke. “what, planning on poisoning me?”
his eyes flicker for a moment, stricken by something you can’t quite place, which makes you blink at him. his flirtatious and charming self returns within a mere second, and he proceeds to snicker at your joke. “i could, but where’d be the fun in that?”
rolling your eyes at him, you take his arm once he’s offered it, keeping in mind you’re doing this for the inheritance.
the time goes by quicker than expected. he introduces you to some of the people he’s close with, tells you stories you’ve never heard before, even asks you about yours.
a few of his friends come by as well, surprised to see you by mingyu’s side. most people your age here know that you and him have never quite gotten along, to put it lightly.
when they subtly ask about it, mingyu tells them he insisted you came to distract yourself from the death of your father, and that you could probably use a party.
it raises more question marks as to what his motive is for asking you to be here tonight. what is he gaining from this? he hasn’t humiliated you yet. if anything, he’s only spoken of you highly, save for the little snark he keeps between the two of you.
it’s strange. really strange.
after a while, once all the guests have been drinking a bit, you decide to set your own plan in motion. this might be your only chance to snoop around here, as you doubt you’ll find yourself in here again anytime soon.
you’re literally invited in his home — you’d be a fool not to check his room.
unfortunately, just as you try to disappear from the crowd, mingyu extends his hand to you. “dance with me?”
just as you’re about to refuse him, you remember that this is the one night you have to be nice to him, all so he can give you the inheritance that was meant to be yours in the first place.
with a small sigh, you slide your hand in his, at which he grins triumphantly.
before you know it, you’re in the middle of the room together, and he has his one hand on your lower back, the other hand intertwined with yours. he’s smooth with his moves, you have to admit.
the question has already left your mouth when you process it. “why am i here? i’m sure there’s a reason i needed to be your date tonight.”
mingyu cocks his head at you. “i think you’ve had to endure a lot the past couple weeks. the incident, the interrogations, the press, the shit with the inheritance — i’m impressed you haven’t lost your mind yet.”
“how do you know i haven’t?” you ask, and he twirls you around, his hands feeling like they’re burning on your skin. “wasn’t my breakdown after the funeral enough to prove you otherwise?”
“well, looking back, i should’ve probably left you alone in that moment. but i did think about what you said, and you can correct me if i’m wrong, but i feel like your father and our ties to him were what made us hate eachother so much. now that he’s gone, maybe we can… i don’t know. tolerate one another.”
you make sure to hide your confusion from him. does he really not see it? sure, the main reason you’ve always despised mingyu was because of his relationship with your father, but you weren’t exactly best friends before that either.
even putting it like that would still make it the understatement of the year.
if he actually pictures the two of you becoming friends, though, he’s lost it.
unsure of what to tell him, you give him a shitty excuse to escape the conversation. “i’m just gonna use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind.” you let mingyu know, and he nods at you in acknowledgement, caught off guard by you leaving so suddenly.
so you walk off, the voices of the people and the music in the hall fading into the background as you trail off.
now that you’re alone, you can finally go check his room.
it’s harder to navigate the mansion than you thought. hallways that all look similar, god knows how many rooms — you hope you won’t get lost here.
one of your best friends is good friends with mingyu’s sister, and so she knows the place like the back of her hand. when you asked her for the layout of the place, she did think it strange, but you told her she had nothing to worry about.
mingyu’s bedroom and study are supposedly on the third floor of the east wing, and the party takes place in the west wing.
so that’s just fucking great.
your best friend did warn you that he most often keeps his doors locked whenever visitors are present, so to ensure you could get in, you snatched the key from his pocket when he was dancing with you earlier.
it almost makes you chuckle when you think about how easy it was.
when you’ve finally arrived at what seems to be the door to mingyu’s room, you double-check the environment around you to see whether anyone’s following you, and when it appears to be safe, you shove the key into the lock, twisting it.
you exhale when realizing it’s the right key.
entering the room, you quickly shut it behind you, taking in the sight.
it’s raining outside, which you take notice of through the large windows. several paintings adorn the walls — you didn’t know he was a lover of art — as well as some photos of him with his family.
the room is surprisingly tidy, his clothes all neatly folded on the wooden planks in his closet and the drawers underneath. the few books he has sitting on top of the cupboard are gathering dust — you suppose he doesn’t like to read all that much.
of course he doesn’t.
his king-sized bed seems soft and comfortable, and the room smells of the cologne and perfume he always wears.
you blink a few times, realizing you’re dwelling too much on details that are not a priority right now.
which is enough to snap you awake, a rush of adrenaline moving through your veins as you look for anything interesting. files, documents, notebooks — anything.
you find his agenda in a drawer of his desk. with slightly trembling fingers, you move the pages back to the date of your father’s death, as well as the days before that.
as you’re caught up with doing so, you momentarily forget the first rule of breaking into a forbidden space: never turn your back to a door when you should be watching it.
“you know, i’m starting to think you agreeing to be my date came with ulterior motives on your side.” you suddenly hear mingyu’s voice behind you, at which you turn around, looking a bit too guilty for comfort.
your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, but you keep your composure. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t plan this.”
“it’s alright.” he responds, closing the door behind him smoothly, as if he doesn’t want you to see it. “you still think i had something to do with your father’s death, don’t you?”
“i’m not sure. i don’t see why you would, now that you’ve given me the inheritance. what other motive could you have?”
all mingyu does is clench his jaw at the rhetorical question. then he snaps out of it, his eyes trailing to the desk you’re currently leaning on. he takes a few steps closer to you, and you raise a brow, waiting in anticipation what he’ll do.
his face is suddenly very close to yours, and you’re almost convinced he’s leaning in to touch you when he reaches for the drawer behind you instead. “well, as a matter of fact, i did have something to show you.”
that surprises you.
“your father always carried a little red notebook with him. it’s the only part of the inheritance i didn’t give you, solely because i wanted to show you myself. there’s a few strange scribblings in it, with locations and numbers, and look at this—” he opens it up in front of you, pointing at the paper with his index finger, “apparently he felt like he was being followed just days before he died. maybe the police is right and he did get murdered.”
“yeah, i already figured he probably pissed off the wrong guy.” when he looks at you hopefully, you shrug. “what?”
“we should check it out, right? find out who killed him.”
you immediately shake your head at his suggestion. “no.”
mingyu’s whole body language changes, genuine confusion overtaking his features. “what do you mean, no?”
“he was caught up in all kinds of shit, things i never wanted to be a part of. that’s no different now that he’s six feet under.”
“are you not the slightest bit curious who killed him?”
“frankly, no, i’m not. i’d say whoever is guilty did me a favor.”
despite your valid point, he persists. “okay, then how about this — what if this person would come after you for whatever reason? don’t you want to know who you’re dealing with?”
you narrow your eyes at him. “why do you care so much, mingyu? i’m sure this is something you could manage on your own.”
the sudden question surprises him, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m not sure why. but i do. and you know i did care for him.”
“why don’t you just let the police handle it?”
“because they don’t know this world — and we have access to places, people they wouldn’t even know where to find or how to deal with. have you talked to the detectives? they’re amateurs.” he answers, pausing before taking a step closer to you. “he’s dead either way, doing a small bit of research might be interesting. who knows what you might find.”
“and you wanna do this with me of all people because...?”
he rolls his eyes at the question. “you were the only other person directly affected by it. c’mon, am i really so bad that you can’t even deal with me for a little while?”
the fact that you just give him a deadpan stare tells him all he needs to know.
it makes you bite your lip. you don’t feel like doing this at all, certainly not with mingyu of all people, but he appears to be ready to do this with or without you.
besides, you do feel up for a little adventure.
“fine, i’ll bite. hypothetically, what if i were interested in finding out who killed him?”
the young man in front of you tilts his head. “then i’d suggest we work together and do some digging.”
pursing your lips, you watch his pleased expression when he notices you’re actually considering it. “why do i feel like i’m gonna regret this?”
“maybe you will. maybe you won’t. we can go right back to hating eachother after this, but for now, we’ll be partners. deal?”
your eyes linger on the hand he’s stretched out to you, and even as you’re hesitant to take it, he doesn’t take his eyes off you.
with a sigh, you shake his hand. “okay. deal.”
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v. PARTNERS IN CRIME
“for someone so organized, he sure as hell has a lot of unnecessary shit lying around here.” mingyu mutters, searching through the drawers of the cupboard.
you scoff in agreement. “tell me about it.”
the two of you are rummaging through your father’s study in your home in an attempt to find anything interesting as to what he might’ve been up to the past few years.
so far, you’ve had zero luck with it.
you already figured there’d probably be nothing of interest here, but mingyu insisted, said it would be stupid not to. so here you are.
“you know, i’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be as stupid as to just leave traces of his criminal affiliations lying around in his study.”
mingyu shrugs while simultaneously looking into a drawer. “you never know.”
“he was an asshole, but he was a smart one.” you mumble to yourself as you go through the little notebook mingyu just handed you a few minutes ago.
he watches you with curiosity. “can i ask you something?”
without looking up at him, you give him a rather direct response. “i’m sure you’ll ask me regardless of my answer to that question.”
ever so indifferent, he thinks. if anything, one thing about you he is actually fond of is your unfiltered attitude. more people should be like that. “you said you’d never forgive me for what i did to you."
hearing those words makes you look up at him. you’re surprised he’s taking an approach this straightforward with you. “i know what i said.”
“is there nothing i can do to at least make things more civil between us?”
god, you’re sick of him already.
instead of outright telling him you hate him more than anyone else you know, you cross your arms over your chest and fire a question right back at him. “why do you want things to be different between us? don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over it, now.”
mingyu pauses a moment before he answers you. “i thought about the things you said, when you were upset with me, and i realized i’ve made your life harder without having intended to do so. and yeah, i am losing sleep over it.”
while he does appear earnest, you don’t exactly trust him, so all you do is shrug your shoulders.
he wants to say something right when his phone rings. once he picks up, you figure it must be something business-related, judging by the tone of his voice and formal language.
an apology directed at you leaves his mouth as soon as he’s hit the red button on his screen. “i’m sorry. an important business meeting was moved and i promised my mom i’d be there.”
you’ve met mingyu’s mother a few times, at events. she’s the ceo of a very prominent hotel business. many of the highest ranked hotels around the world are under her care, and she clearly knows what she’s doing, since her business has been thriving for many years at this point. you remember it was her who took over as ceo after mingyu’s father passed in a car accident when he was younger.
“then you better get going.” you tell him, your face not pulling a single muscle. you hope he didn’t think you were going to ask him to stay.
he nods at your words, taking the jacket with his initials embroidered in the tag and slinging it over his arm. “yeah. i’ll call you.” he says, going out the doorway, yet your voice makes him halt in his tracks.
“mingyu.” you say his name to him, an unfamiliar feeling on your tongue, and he turns to look back at you.
he awaits your words, catching the subtle warning in your eyes as you refer back to the question of his you had yet to answer.
“we may be working together now — call us associates, or even partners in crime — but once this is over, we’ll go right back to strangers. let’s just keep this… somewhat professional.”
you find he can be surprisingly hard to read from time to time, for a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. after blankly staring at you for a few seconds, processing the words, he just offers you a little smile and a gentle response. “okay.”
and he walks off, only leaving you more intrigued than before.
for two days, it’s complete radio silence from mingyu. all he asked you over text was if you’d been able to find anything in the study, to which you replied with a simple no. he didn’t say anything else.
you sincerely thought this whole investigation of yours wasn’t actually gonna lead to anything, that it was useless — until now.
it’s eleven o’clock, dark outside, the metronome ticking in the background of your living room as your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop.
you just got a notification from the bank that someone made a significant withdrawal from one of your father’s bank accounts, one that still needs to be signed over to your name.
question is, who the fuck has access to your father’s bank account besides you?
no one. supposedly.
staring at mingyu’s contact in your phone, you twist your lips, unsure of whether to call him about this or not.
going against your gut, you press on his phone number and wait for him to answer the call.
nothing.
for good measure, you call him a second time. same result.
then it hits you. you spoke to wonwoo last night — he mentioned something about him and mingyu going out together this evening.
wonwoo, thankfully, does pick up his phone. “hey. what’s up?”
“hey. are you with mingyu right now?”
“yeah, why?”
“where are you?”
“uh—” he stutters out an address in the middle of the city, clearly confused by the urgency in your voice. “what’s going on? what do you need mingyu for?”
“well, it’s hard to explain. anyway, i’m coming over.”
“he’s kind of—”
you quickly interrupt him by hanging up. taking your wallet and car keys, you head out. the address wonwoo’s given you is located in the club scene downtown, and you make it there in no-time with the navigation on your phone.
parking your car across the block, you get out and check your phone, heading to wherever wonwoo and mingyu currently are. you usually tend to go for the clubs at the other side of the city, as the vibe feels a little different here, but you’ve been around the neighborhood a couple times, so it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you.
when you arrive at the club, you catch the sight of your friend leaning against the stone wall outside.
jeon wonwoo, all handsome in his expensive jacket and sleek shoes, looks surprised when he notices you of all people coming up to him, even though you told him you were coming. his voice is soft when he greets you. “hey. you gonna tell me what exactly you’re doing here?”
shrugging your shoulders, you put your hands in the pockets of your black coat. “you said you were here with mingyu. i gotta talk to him.”
“right now?”
taking note of his baffled reaction, you tilt your head to the side. “yes, right now. i don’t care if he’s occupied.”
wonwoo brings a cigarette to his lips, pushing the pair of dark-rimmed glasses higher up his nose. “what’s going on with you and him, anyway? i thought you hated each other.”
“we still do.”
“well, something’s changed.”
“believe me, wonwoo, i don’t like him any more than he likes me.”
all he does is narrow his dark eyes at you.
just when you want to open the backdoor to the club, wonwoo stops you. “you do know what kind of establishment this place is, right?”
frowning at him, you open the door just the slightest bit to check whatever he’s getting at, and once you catch sight of the pink and red lights, sensual music and metal poles attached to the ceiling, you momentarily close the door again.
right. this must be one of those clubs that are hidden from the prying eyes of non-customers, to give the illusion there’s nothing going on behind these walls, giving the rich clients some privacy in their activities.
you roll your eyes. “when you said you were going to the club, i didn’t think you meant a strip club.”
“i was about to tell you when you hung up on me.”
“so why are you out here and not in there with him?”
“because i wanted to smoke and he felt like heading into a more secluded space. with company, no doubt.”
oh, this is gonna be fun. since kim mingyu pretty much ruined your life, the very least you can do in return is ruin his night. you briefly chuckle to yourself. “alright. well, have fun smoking.”
“you’re still going in?” he calls after you, and all you can do is scoff.
“you think i care whether kim mingyu’s gonna have a good time or not?”
“forget i asked.” he responds, the hint of a smile tugging at his facial features. “i’ll wait here ‘til you get back.”
you shoot him a knowing smirk before stepping into the club. remaining in the background, you scan the area to see if there’s a glimpse of him somewhere.
at the other side of the bar, a man seems to be on watch in front of a separate hallway, so you figure that’s where the jackpot is.
not bothering to look back at the bartender, whose gaze trails after you, you head over to where you need to be, which is where you’re stopped in your path, as expected.
“these are occupied private rooms, ma’am.” a bouncer tells you.
“look, sir, i…” you begin, coming up with some bullshit excuse to get past him, “i’m pretty sure i saw my boyfriend just go in here with a dancer. all i want is a confirmation, i’m not looking to start drama.”
before the man can respond, you wordlessly hold up a small stack of hundred dollar bills between your index and middle finger, waiting for him to take the bribe.
works like a charm wherever you go.
his demeanor changes once he sees the money. “what’s he look like?”
“tall, dark medium-long hair, brown eyes, pretty handsome — though that’s probably subjective.” you shrug, adding a little fake smile to it. you can get far in life with a little charm and money.
the few generic features seem to be enough for the bouncer to know who you’re talking about. he takes the money from your hand, pointing his finger at one of the more secluded rooms in the back.
“go for room number six.” he says, stepping to the side so you can pass him.
thanking him, you head into the back, the heels of your ankle boots clicking against the floor.
the rooms have their matching numbers on neon signs above them. your eyes curiously take in everything they see, but all rooms grant the people in them privacy with the use of frosted glass.
once you’ve made it to the room with the number six on the sign, you take a breath while your hand rests on the handle.
you enter the room soundlessly. the broad space is dimly lit with its soft lights, a mixture of yellow, pink and red almost convincing you that this place is a mere fever dream.
mingyu is seated on the velvet red couch, his legs spread with a girl in skimpy lingerie dancing between them.
yet his eyes are on you.
with his head tilted down, he looks up at you from beneath his lowered brows, peering right past the bare hips of the girl as if she’s not dancing in front of him at all.
you catch a hint of intrigue in his features. he reaches inside his pocket to hand a small stack of money to the dancer in the exact same way you did with the bouncer only a minute before, and the girl leaves you to your privacy.
“hello to you, too.” he says, not bothering to move a single muscle as he remains on the soft couch.
“next time, answer your damn phone.” you scold him, staring him down with the coldest glare you can muster, and mingyu’s not sure why, but he relishes in it. it doesn’t happen often that someone treats him like this.
“i was occupied.” he casually answers, his hand running through his dark locks.
“well, not anymore.” you grin, handing him your phone to show the photo of the bank transcripts. “apparently, my dead father just took fifty grand out of his account.”
mingyu furrows his brows at the screen. “where?”
“all the way at the other side of the city. question is, who else has access to his account, aside from me?”
“we should go and check the footage.” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and he finally gets up, towering over you again. “i know someone who’s with the municipal authorities, i’ll make the call.”
“right now?” you ask, referring to how deep into the night it is, at which he raises his brow.
“yes, right now. this is the best clue we’ve come across so far. don’t you agree?”
“i do. i just thought you cared more about, y’know, being occupied.” you emphasise the last words with a waving hand, gesturing to the girl that was previously dancing on him, and his flirtatious nature comes right back to him as if it never left.
“why? wanna give me a show before we leave?” he smirks, getting closer, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you, to see what’s lurking underneath your closed-off persona.
fine. both of you can play this game, you think to yourself. “what, are the girls here not enough to get you off?”
“is that a yes?”
“why would you want a lap dance from a girl you can’t stand? i may not like you, mingyu, but i didn’t think you’d stoop so low to go after any woman with a pulse.”
“i feel flattered,” he smiles, eyes trailing down to your exposed collarbones, finding it ridiculously hot in here, “and i don’t particularly like you, either, but we both know you’re gorgeous. besides, i’ve seen you dance at chan’s club. you looked good.”
his honesty almost stuns you in your place. you didn’t think he held that kind of physical attraction towards you, yet it makes you feel good — because you think he’s fucking hot, too.
such a shame that he’s an asshole.
but still, there’s no time to dwell on his words. you have a reputation to uphold and a murder to solve, after all.
so you lean in, whispering your decision. “in your dreams.”
jesus, mingyu thinks, do you even remotely know how much sex appeal you have? it makes him beyond impulsive. “did you know studies have shown that sleeping with someone you can’t stand is arguably the best thing ever?”
you sarcastically reply to him with the exact same tone. “did you know you’d be so much more bearable if you just kept your mouth shut?”
“what? it’s part of my charm.” is all he says in return, snickering a little over your response, and you merely roll your eyes.
“we’ve got a different idea of charm, then.”
“okay, fair enough.” he shrugs, still maintaining the minimal distance between your bodies. “so what do you find charming? i’m dying to know, really.”
“i like men who don’t feel the need to pay for a woman’s touch.” the reply comes fast and sharp as a blade. “i hope you pay them generously, since they have to put up with you out of all people.”
“she didn’t touch me, though. it’s a strip club, not a brothel.”
“how noble of you.” you humorlessly chuckle at him, attitude turning more playful.
“mhm.” mingyu nods his head, the rest of his words sounding lower and suave. “tell me more. c’mon, i’m curious. i gotta know my partner’s preferences, right?”
the look you give your current partner is something. you decide to indulge him this once, face inching closer to his, just to keep things interesting. “i want someone who won’t hold me back. someone who will accept me for who i am — uninhibited.”
there’s something you can’t quite place flashing behind his eyes. it’s close to intrigue, but more intense, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen it in anyone else’s eyes before.
“good to know.” he breathes out, as if your words stole his breath, and you come to the realization that maybe, there’s more to kim mingyu than you thought.
now that he seems to be pretty much speechless, you raise your shoulders. “so, are we heading out or should i tell the dancer to come back in?”
he stutters out a reply, and you find it funny how his attitude is constantly going back and forth between a flustered mess and the most confident guy in the room.
once you’ve returned to the backdoor where you got in, you see wonwoo is still outside, his cigarette put out on the ashtray beside him.
“you leaving?” wonwoo asks, waiting for either of you to answer.
“yeah. duty calls.” mingyu replies while putting his jacket on.
for what it’s worth, wonwoo is actually a dear friend of yours, and one of the few people you show physical affection to, so you give him a kiss on the cheek before walking off. “catch you later, okay?”
he nods, catching mingyu curiously watching the exchange, and when you walk off with him, wonwoo notices him put his hand on your lower back, which you proceed to swat away.
a mere twenty minutes later, you and mingyu are seated in your car in an empty parking lot, looking at a screen displaying street security footage of the bank where the withdrawal was made earlier tonight.
mingyu’s friend seungkwan, who works for the authorities, sent you the footage, and as you’re looking it over, he’s on the phone explaining his observations. “he was wearing a mask and a cap, so we couldn’t recognize him. the car he drove has a license plate that doesn’t match, so likely stolen. he drove from a nearby parking garage to the bank, withdrew the cash, got back in the car and then parked it right here, about six blocks further, in the business district.”
the building the car is parked across is one you’d recognize any time of day. it’s where your father’s main office is — or was — one of the places he never allowed you to get into, or anyone for that matter. it was the only place where he got the peace and quiet he wanted.
you turn your head to glance at mingyu, giving him a knowing look. “that’s where my father’s main office is.”
“you think the guy’s gonna try to break in?”
“if he got his hands on the passcodes and proceeds to wait before the building he always worked in, then yeah, i do.”
you nod in agreement, because he makes a fair point. mingyu looks at the worried expression on your face and decides you’ve gathered enough information now.
he thanks seungkwan and tells him bye before hanging up, then turning his focus to you. “whoever that guy is, if he’s planning on breaking in, we gotta beat him to it.”
“you wanna break into an office on the seventh floor located in a building that neither of us are allowed into? they won’t even let us pass the front desk. i know because i’ve tried.”
he shakes his head. “trust me — we’ll find a way in. i’ve got an idea, but it’s not gonna be easy.”
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vi. WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I
the following days are spent analyzing and memorizing blueprints, tracking the people entering and exiting the building and checking security in the hope of finding some kind of loophole in the system.
trying to get in through the front door is too risky, so you’ve opted for the roof instead, because there’s several buildings so closeby that you can get into either of the buildings next to it and reach it from there. you’ll get in with a classic heist movie tactic you pray works in real life as well.
ventilation shafts.
so now, you’re both in dark and practical clothing to attempt breaking in. because your plan is mediocre at best.
as you watch from the rooftop of a currently unoccupied office building nearby with a binocular, you face-palm yourself the moment you notice the security set-up is different than anticipated with the blueprints, meaning the ventilation shafts are most likely not accessible. “well, fuck.”
“what’s wrong?”
you hand the binocular to mingyu, and he mimics your previous actions, huffing in annoyance when he sees it too. “shit. what do we do now?”
“nothing.”
“what?”
“our plan was already risky enough, but now that we pretty much don’t even have a way in, we’d be stupid to try. we only have a fifteen-minute window before a security guard comes up the roof again.”
“that’s plenty.”
“it would be, for like — a swat team. we’re amateurs. at this, anyway.”
“speak for yourself.”
“oh, i’m sorry, have you done anything remotely on this scale before?”
“well… no.”
pinching the bridge of your nose, you roll your eyes to yourself. “we should’ve brought wonwoo.”
mingyu is quick to respond with a sarcastic comment. “and tell him what, exactly? ‘hey, we need your help breaking into one of the best-guarded buildings in the city so we can snoop around and try to find a clue leading to a killer’?”
“well, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, gyu, but we quite literally have no other options.”
“we could always try the front door. you’re still his daughter, they might let you in.”
“i really hope that wasn’t an actual suggestion, because if it was, it would highly diminish the idea i have of your intelligence.”
“is this your way of telling me you think i’m smart?”
“well, currently, i think you’re being an idiot, so no.” you retort, stealing the binocular out of his hand again. “god, i’m starting to respect criminals. this shit is difficult to navigate around.”
mingyu chuckles as he adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. “there has to be another way. maybe we could—”
“—get in through an open window.” you interrupt, handing the device over to him. “you see the glass window in the roof of his office? it looks like it’s ajar.”
once he sees it too, he tilts his head. “it’s almost too easy. it’d have to open manually, otherwise we’re screwed.”
you can only shrug. “it’s only a modern interior on the inside, the building itself is older, so the odds might be on our side. besides, it’s worth a shot, right?”
“can’t argue with that.” he agrees, checking the other buildings around to figure out the best approach.
you watch him as he’s distracted. he’s fully going for the whole partners-in-crime thing you’ve got going on with him, yet a part of you is still unsure what his motives might be.
but for now, you’ll just focus on the task at hand.
every fifteen minutes, a security guard comes up to the roof, checks everything, stays for a minute or two and leaves again. you’ve been keeping track of it. as soon as the one currently on duty closes the door to the staircase behind him, heading back down, you both start a silent timer on your watches, getting to work.
one thing you discover doing said task is that jumping from roof to roof is really not as easy as they make it seem in the movies. if anything, it’s pretty scary, even if they are relatively close to eachother.
the jump from the last building to the one you need to be on top of has the biggest gap, and mingyu takes a solid leap, landing ever so gracefully.
you shuffle your feet for a moment, making the mistake of looking down. mingyu notices your hesitation and tries to encourage you the best he can. “it looks scary, but it’s a relatively easy jump. i swear. that’s gotta mean something coming from a person with a fear of heights.”
clenching your fists, you try to steady your breathing. “don’t you lie to me, kim.”
there’s something strangely charming about you using his last name whenever you’re scolding him. “c’mon. i’ve always thought you were fearless. you’re not gonna diminish the idea i have of you, right?”
curse him for using your words against you like that.
clenching your fists, you bite your lip, the worst case scenario going through your head over and over.
“just go back a couple steps. steady your breathing, and then you run. okay?”
you don’t respond to his words but do as he says anyways. the jump isn’t even that far, you’re just afraid of tripping.
but you won’t go out embarrassing yourself in front of kim mingyu. your pride is too strong for that.
so you take a deep breath and make a run for it, jumping over the gap and landing on top of the other roof, far away from the edge. mingyu laughs triumphantly. “good job.”
“thanks.” you smile as he helps you up to your feet, and you dust off your jacket, proud of yourself for going through with it.
the two of you walk over to the glass window, and you kneel down, inspecting the lock. thank fuck — it’s so simple that all you have to do is click it open. you’re guessing they probably thought the security walking around was enough.
with your hands covered in gloves, you wiggle them through the gap and crack it open, after which mingyu takes the lead. he lets himself drop into the office silently, looking up at you as a gesture for you to follow him.
you attempt to do the same as him, but you figure he must have strong arm muscles, because you’re barely able to hold yourself up the way he can. he notices your struggle and moves to stand underneath you.
“just let go. i’ll catch you.”
“are you sure?”
he nods, his arms up as if he’s waiting for you to jump right into them. “yeah, yeah. i got you.”
not entirely convinced, you try to drop onto the floor in a way you can still hold yourself up, but mingyu proves himself true to his word when he catches you as easily as drawing his next breath. he looks you in the eye while he has you in his arms, his senses feeling heightened as your clothed skin touches with his.
then you tap on his shoulder, and he lets go of you.
the office is bigger than anticipated. the moonlight from outside is bright enough for you to not need a flashlight, so that’s beneficial.
mingyu is awfully quick on his feet for someone as tall and bulky as him. he’s quiet in every step he takes, which is useful in a situation like this.
while he begins to look through a bunch of drawers, you open cabinet after cabinet, going through some documents that don’t really contain anything interesting.
you turn to look at the desk and the painting on the wall behind it. it’s nothing spectacular — your father never had much of an appreciation for art, so you find it strange he’d even have it up here.
out of sheer curiosity, you try to check if there’s a secret stash behind the painting like in those crime movies.
you have to refrain from laughing when your eyes fall onto the safe in the wall. “hey. gyu.”
he turns around, his entire demeanor changing when he sees what you’ve found. “you’re kidding.”
the safe has a surprisingly easy system. it has four dials, so you need a code with four numbers to get access to whatever’s inside. you change the dials to your birth year for fun, but naturally, it doesn’t work. hell, mingyu’s birth year might have a better shot.
while you try out every combination you can think of, mingyu gets the little notebook out of his pocket — the one that was part of your father’s inheritance. he flips to one of the last pages. “try 9-3-6-8.”
going with his suggestion, you rotate the dials until they have the right numbers, and you hear a click. blinking a few times, you turn the small crank wheel beside the dials and open the safe.
there’s not much inside in terms of quantity, but the things that are in there are no joke.
two gold ingots, a stack of files and a loaded handgun with a silencer attached to it.
“what the fuck was he up to?” mingyu asks rhetorically, inspecting the pistol with care, and you shrug, grabbing the files to put them into the bag you took with you.
“i don’t know, but we should hurry up. we can look at whatever all this is later. clock’s ticking.”
he figures you make a good point, so you hold out your bag, and he puts all of the safe’s contents into it.
you’re both scared to death when you suddenly hear voices coming from the other side of the door. you immediately zip up your bag and close the safe back up, putting the painting right back in front of it.
footsteps come approaching your direction, and you realize you don’t have enough time to get back out of the office without being caught red-handed, so you’ll have to find a place to hide.
just as you’re about to go sit underneath the desk, mingyu doesn’t hesitate to grab you by your hand and pull you against his body, both of you hiding in the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, which is right next to the door.
you almost jump in your place when the door is opened by a security guard, and mingyu puts his hand over your mouth to make sure the guard doesn’t hear you.
thankfully, you’re hidden right behind the door now that it’s opened, but your heart is fucking pounding as your chest is pressed against mingyu’s, and all you can focus on is him.
he’s suffocatingly close to you.
the situation forces you to look at him so closely — like never before. your attention trails down from his dark eyes to the litte mole on the bottom of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the glimpse you catch of the silver chain adorning his collarbones.
it’s the first time you see how big of a man he is. he’s been working out a lot in the past few years, with considerable results — standing this close to him highlights the contrast between his frame and yours.
the footsteps leave the office not long after, and the door closes. you’re finally able to breathe properly when he releases his palm from your mouth, and you inhale and exhale deeply.
“you alright?”
“yeah. that was just — scary.” you respond, cracking a little smile.
he nods, neither of you really moving in your places yet. “you can let go of me, y’know.” mingyu whispers, sounding entirely unconvincing, and you frown before looking to your hand that’s apparently been clutching his jacket this whole time.
“oh, yeah. sorry.”
“it’s okay.” he assures you, pointing to the ceiling. “we should probably head back.”
you agree and sling the bag over your shoulders, on your back. he gets onto the desk first so he can climb out the same window you used to get in, and once he’s gotten up the roof again, he extends his hand to you so he can pull you up.
it doesn’t go smoothly. he’s a little clumsy, but he manages, so you take a breather once you’ve made it out of the office with him. you close the window in the exact position it was before you opened it, and you make it to the safety of the rooftop where you started just twenty minutes ago.
as you quickly go down the stairs of the abandoned building to reach the ground floor, he laughs triumphantly. “holy fucking shit. i can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”
you smile at him with adrenaline still rushing through you, heart still pounding in your chest when you realize what you just did.
and honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever felt that… alive.
a mere fifteen minutes later, you’re seated in a half-empty diner with him. he’s across from you in the booth, elbows on the table as he fiddles with his fingers.
while he looks around the place, you take the files you found in the safe out of your bag so you can look them over.
as your eyes fall onto the first page, you frown.
mingyu notices your gaze. “what’s wrong?”
you switch to the other file folders before scoffing to yourself, realization hitting you. “you gotta be fucking kidding me. they’re tabs he kept on the people around him. the staff at home, his driver... even me. and you. well, looks like he didn’t trust you completely.”
before he can even reply to the subtle dig, you slide the folder with his name on it across the table, and he opens it up, noticing a huge chunk of information on him neatly stashed away in separate documents. there’s even candids there that must’ve been made by a private investigator.
“i knew he was paranoid, but this takes the cake.” you mutter, and you throw the folders back into your bag, and mingyu hands you his so you can take it as well.
“well, this sucks.” he sighs. “those files aren’t of much use, so now we’re back to square one.”
you tilt your head. “that’s not entirely true. we might be able to check where the gun came from, or whose name it’s registered under.”
mingyu hums, lifting the cup to his mouth, whispering a compliment, not really expecting for you to hear it. “smart girl.”
with your bag zipped up and everything off the table again, it’s quiet between you and mingyu for a moment.
“god, i’m starving.” he says as you wait for your food to arrive, and where he’s slightly fidgeting in his place, you sit completely still, looking at him with a frown. once he catches your gaze, he raises a brow at you. “what?”
“do you do this often?”
“eating in a cheap diner?”
“trespassing. breaking in. illegal activities. whatever you wanna call it.”
he shrugs. “occasionally. keeps life interesting, y’know?”
the casualness in his attitude makes you scoff. “sure.”
“you don’t agree?”
“i didn’t say that.”
“no, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.” he says bluntly. he doesn’t mean it as an offensive statement in the slightest, but it would’ve probably sounded better if worded differently.
for a moment, he thinks his impulsivity must’ve upset you, seeing as you remain silent for a moment.
then you laugh at him. the sound is completely new to him, yet strangely soothing to his ears.
“you’re bold, i’ll give you that.” you snicker before taking a sip of your coke. “but i assume you don’t have an issue with people who are on the quieter side, since you’re besties with wonwoo and all.”
mingyu mimics your facial expressions. “yeah, i prefer being around quieter people more. but i didn’t—it came out wrong. i meant, you don’t really, like... show who you are. if that makes sense. even back when we were in high school, you were like a mystery. you still are, to me.”
“is this what this whole partnering-up thing is about? you wanting to unravel the mystery about me? because if it is, i’ll give you credit for the creativity.”
mingyu tilts his head. “well, it’s a little more nuanced than that.”
“if you wanted to get to know me, why didn’t you try years ago?”
“have you met you?”
you roll your eyes. he smirks at you, enjoying your company quite a lot, anticipating whatever it is you’ll say in response.
“you wanna know something, mingyu?”
“yeah.”
“you’re telling me i’m the mysterious one, but i’d say that’s you.”
his playfulness falters a bit, and he shows his confusion instead. “me?”
“mhm. you’re popular, good-looking, charming, all of that — and i think you’ve got layers to yourself that no one even knows about. characteristics no one would ever dare imagine when they think of you.”
his breath hitches in his throat. “why do you think that?”
twisting your lips into a pout, you put your drink back down on the table. “wouldn’t be any fun if i outright told you, would it?”
mingyu narrows his eyes at you. you just shrug, as if to tell him he’ll figure it out, if he’s smart enough.
and he welcomes the challenge.
“okay.” he smiles, biting his lip when he leans back in his seat. “but, hypothetically — what if you’re wrong about me? what if i don’t have those layers you’re talking about?”
you eye him up and down, remaining quiet with your arms crossed over your chest. you’ve always had that attitude. like you know more than everyone else, as if you’re the smartest person in the room. usually, you are. and yet you’re never smug about it, unless someone challenges you to be — you’re always calm, cool, collected. stoic. the fact that wonwoo of all people called you an ice princess years ago says enough.
“i’d be sorely disappointed.”
“so you have high expectations of me?”
“in a way, perhaps. though you’ll have to work a little harder to impress me.”
“tonight wasn’t enough?”
“it was a start. we still loathe eachother, remember?”
“right. i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
sure, you and kim mingyu hate one another, but he still makes you smile the most anyone has in ages, and you make him feel more alive than anyone else has.
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vii. FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER
“i’ve got bad news.” you say, tapping your nails on the coffee table in your living room as you have mingyu on speaker.
“okay. do tell.”
“the gun isn’t registered, so we pretty much only have the files as evidence.”
“yeah. i doubt your father put those files together himself, since they seem like the work of a professional. we might be smart to seek out the private investigator who gave him the intel.”
you know he hears you sigh at the other end of the line, and your response hardly sound convincing. “yeah, i guess.”
“what’s wrong?”
it’s quiet for a moment. you speak up with a tension rumbling in your chest. “maybe we should just quit, gyu. i don’t feel like what we’re doing is actually going anywhere. we still don’t have a proper lead.”
then it’s his turn to remain silent, and you swear you can hear his breath shudder. “we’ll get there. it just... takes some time.”
“you sound a little too sure of that.”
“i just think it’d be a waste to not continue after the stunt we pulled last week.”
“what’re we gonna be doing next? breaking into the national bank?”
“something tells me you’d find that exciting.”
well, shit. have you become so transparent that kim mingyu of all people can tell the truth about you?
“maybe i would.” you grumble like a child admitting defeat.
the sound of his laughter echoes through the phone. it subconsciously brings a small smile to your face.
“look, i have a meeting ‘til five. i can come by after to brainstorm about things, pick up some food on the way. are you free tonight?”
“yeah. text me when you’re on the way here.”
“yes, ma’am.” he jests, saying he’s got to go before hanging up. it leaves you to stare at your phone for a minute. a past version of yourself would never believe it if you said mingyu would ever get close to you in the way he has over the past two months. it’s been a strange time. it’s come to the point you’re pretty sure you don’t even hate him as much as you used to.
maybe you don’t even hate him at all anymore. maybe.
but something about admitting that to yourself feels scary, so you put your thoughts elsewhere while secretly looking forward to having him come over again.
it’s a quarter past five when he sends you a message, letting you know he’s picked up the food and on the way to your house, and a mere twenty minutes later, you and him are seated in the lounge on the first floor as he tells you about his day – all while shoving a dumpling into his mouth.
what interrupts you, however, is the noise of your doorbell. mingyu frowns instantly, and you mimic his expression, because you weren’t expecting any more company. “who’s that?”
“no idea.” you shrug, so you get up from your seat, jogging down the stairs with mingyu following you, simultaneously chewing the food in his mouth.
checking the screen beside the door that’s connected to the doorbell, you notice a familiar face standing outside.
“isn’t he the main detective on the investigation?” mingyu asks rhetorically, his body language changing to something more stiff. “what is he doing here?”
“good question. i certainly didn’t invite him, but the guy at the front gate probably told him i was home. fuck — you have to hide.”
“hide? why?”
because the detective thinks you still hate mingyu, so seeing him here would make your story hardly plausible. “because he can’t see you, obviously. get upstairs and stay there. i’ll distract him.” 
“are you sure?”
“yeah, so go!” you push him back with your hands on his chest, and he seems hesitant to leave you by yourself, but he eventually jogs up the stairs again to get out of sight.
the inspector smiles only as a formality. you do the same. you haven’t spoken to him since you indirectly accused him of being an asshole, a while before your father’s funeral.
“good evening. i hope i haven’t come at a bad time. may i come in?”
“i have to take a business call soon, actually, so another time would be—”
“i won’t be long. i assume you’d like to have an update on the investigation?”
well, fuck. he’s got you there, so you’re forced to let him in, but you don’t let him wonder and gesture for him to sit down in the living room, on the couch. you move to take the seat directly across from him to ensure his focus is on you, instead of on the huge staircase behind him.
“am i still at the top of your list?” you ask. when the man tries to find the right words to respond, you scoff, filling in the blanks. of course you still are. “but you have no evidence.” 
“it’s not about evidence — moreso the lack thereof. i’m stuck with two people who each have a solid motive, an alibi that’s far from foolproof, and an important tie to the victim. you cannot deny that.” 
“is this another interrogation? because this is all off-record.”
“not an interrogation. i was just wondering something – back when i spoke to you last, before your father’s funeral, i asked what you could tell me about kim mingyu, your father’s former associate.” hearing him say his name makes you anxious, yet you pull every possible muscle to hide it. “you spoke of him as if he were the devil himself. you clearly hated him, perhaps more than you hated your father.”
“and?”
he pulls something from the inside of his jacket, and you discover they’re a few candids, photos taken of you with mingyu while out in the city. well, that’s just fucking great. you’re gonna have to make use of your top-notch acting skills here.
“i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me asking why you’re suddenly seeing someone you claim to hate as much as you do.”
the blankness of your face dissolves as you adapt a more playful and sassy persona. “you came all the way to my home for this? a few photos?”
“a few photos of my two main suspects together for a reason i cannot think of, yes.”
“you can’t think of a single thing? really? no offense, but i was under the impression you were at least a little clever.”
the man stares at you as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. that can only mean one thing – he’s falling for your act.
what an idiot.
you lean forward in your place, the dry smile remaining on your face. “i fucked him. several times, actually.”
he narrows his eyes at your statement. “i thought you told me you hated him.”
“oh, i do. but a good hate-fuck is the best way to release some frustration. you should try it sometime.” the sound of your voice is monotonous as you utter the words in one go.
“i’ll keep it in mind.” he sarcastically responds with a fake smile, and you copy his body language, pleased to see you’ve made him somewhat uncomfortable.
he clearly wants to change the subject, but you don’t feel like continuing this conversation any longer. “if you’ll excuse me, i really have more pressing matters, so i trust you can see yourself out.”
the inspector huffs a bit, but he knows better than to overstay his welcome. he wordlessly allows you to let you walk him to the door before turning around. “i hope you know who you’re dealing with. not everyone is who they say they are.”
leaving you confused, he looks at you a moment, proceeding to walk out your front door, after which you close it. did he know more than he was willing to let on? what a strange visit.
when you finally decide to turn around, you see mingyu standing in the middle of the stairs, looking a little baffled, at which you roll your eyes.
“why would you tell him that?”
“would you have preferred it if i told him the truth?”
“would that be so bad?”
you scoff, passing him on the staircase. “see, this is what i mean when i say you’re not as smart as you think you are.”
mingyu follows you back up to the lounge. “i’m just saying — maybe it’d make us look less suspicious.”
“it’d do the opposite, gyu. trust me.”
“okay. fine. but out of all the things you could’ve said, why that?”
“well, it made him uncomfortable, making it easier to get him to leave early. and, well… you know what you look like.”
the last sentence really grabs his attention.
“what i look like?” he repeats, knowing damn well what you’re getting at, but he’s eager to hear you spell it out for him.
“well, you’re somewhat good-looking. it’s one of your few strong points, actually.”
“so you think i’m hot?”
“didn’t quite say that.”
“no, but you implied it.”
“not really. you may be conventionally handsome, gyu, but attraction is a whole different thing.”
“oh, c’mon. admit it. i’m willing to, so…”
“do i need to remind you i said we’d keep things professional? which you agreed to.”
“god, you’re so tough.”
“part of my charm. maybe that’s why you like me so much.”
“i never said i liked you.”
“no, you didn’t have to.” you scoff, laughing at him, and mingyu feels the corners of his lips curling up — because you’re right.
then, as you plop down on the seats in the lounge again, you sigh as you look at the papers scattered across the table.
“you know, it’s been weeks, and we still haven’t got the slightest clue who’s the killer,” you frown, fingers resting on your collarbone, “and if i’m being honest, i doubt we ever will.”
mingyu briefly narrows his eyes at you, proceeding to take his laptop out of his bag. you watch curiously when he silently types away at his keyboard, then turning the device around and clicking on the play button.
suddenly you hear your own voice, and the words — you said those during the interrogations. how the hell did he get his hands on those recordings?
he seems to be able to read your mind. “i’ve got a contact in the force. he sent me the sorted files of everyone who was interrogated. we should probably listen to them, right? after all, we know more about the situation than the detectives.”
blinking a few times, you shrug and nod in agreement, so he increases the volume and presses the button again.
the following two and a half hours are spent listening to the recordings and taking notes of important things. you’re only halfway through them, but doing this the whole time really sucks you dry of energy.
at a certain point, you press the pause button and get up from your seat, moving to the liquor cabinet a few meters away. “you like a good whiskey, right?”
“yeah. how’d you know?”
“i observe and listen. that, and i heard you say it to wonwoo one time.”
he chuckles at your words, watching you take the bottle with two glasses and set it down on the table.
once you’ve poured the liquid into the glass, he takes what you offer him and down it in one go, after which you give him a judgemental stare. “seriously?”
“sorry. had a rough day.”
your gaze softens, and you pour him a second glass as he holds it out. “why?”
“i just… haven’t been feeling great lately. not really sure why.”
well, that’s interesting. “your conscience eating away at you?”
his eyes widen an uncharacteristical amount, and your face is blank for a few moments until you crack a smile. he laughs it off, squeezing his hands together, which you take notice of.
“guess you could say that. no, i don’t know. my sister’s been stressed and she won’t tell me why, which is odd ‘cause she always comes to me — and my mother’s been overworking herself, and i’m worried for her.”
pursing your lips together, you cast your eyes down for a moment.
for some reason, you feel a sense of repulsiveness whenever mingyu speaks of his family like that. as if it’s a reminder of what you didn’t have.
but you don’t show it.
“sounds tough.” you reply, not intending to sound distant — you just find it difficult to know what to say.
what you fail to recognize is that mingyu sees it. he sees your struggle and the emotions you think are so deeply hidden underneath the surface. they actually are, to be honest, but he’s come to know you and with that the way you hold yourself. and he’s suddenly able to read you better.
you’re made of sharp edges only — broken glass on all sides.
he takes another sip of his drink. you down yours in one go.
“can i ask you something?”
“sure.”
mingyu’s eyes curiously follow your every move, the alcohol in his system making him bolder. “how are you holding up?”
“me? ‘m fine. why do you ask?”
“i think mostly ‘cause i’ve asked you a lot of questions, but not that one.”
the words make you silent for a moment, and you let out a knowing sigh when you realize what he’s getting at. “i told you i was glad he died, gyu.”
“i know. but even if you are, you can still find it difficult to deal with.”
you inhale and exhale slowly, leaning back against the wall for a moment, staring into nothing. “i’m not sad that he’s gone. i never will be. but there’s things i wanted to ask him.”
when you don’t continue, he asks you to. “what things?”
“things about my youth, my mother… hell, maybe even about you.” you shrug, chuckling for a brief moment, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. “but i think, mostly, i’d ask if he saw himself in me.”
mingyu is intrigued by your answer. “why would you wanna know that?”
you shrug, your tiredness contributing to you opening up. “because maybe i’d hear the answer i want to hear, and not the one i currently have. my worst nightmare has always been to turn into him.”
“you won’t be like him.” he tries to tell you, but you shake your head.
“i already am. i hated him to the bone, and yet i act like him, sound like him, handle things like him — because he taught me everything i know. at the end of the day, i am my father’s daughter. there’s no changing that.”
“you’re not a bad person. he was.”
“how would you know? he was nice to you. stand-offish, probably, but nice.”
“you don’t think i had an idea of what kind of person he was? i cared for him, but i knew he could be harsh. i caught some bits and pieces when he… yelled at you after our high school graduation.”
you have an almost visceral reaction as he mentions the incident. your father had yelled at you after the graduation, because the best student of your class got a prize on the big podium, and it wasn’t you. and that as a result made your father angry, because being in the top five wasn’t enough — because it should’ve been you.
it was always supposed to be you.
“why did you even want to be around him at all? if you knew how much of an asshole he was all this time.”
mingyu stares at the wall for a few seconds when he thinks about it. “he came into my life when i needed it the most. but looking back, i feel guilty. i shouldn’t have cared for someone like that.”
“like what?”
“someone that cruel. he didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, not in any way.”
“can only good people be loved?” you ask in return, and he seems positively surprised at your question.
“you’d find love for a bad person?”
“mingyu.” you say his name in a brief chuckle, and it steals his breath away. “do you think you have that much of a choice over who we love? we don’t. that’s what makes it so complicated.”
he seems to grow increasingly stressed with each thing you say, much to your surprise. “but would you want to love someone like that?”
looking away from him for a moment, you think his words over. “if that person was good to me, and had the same values… yeah, i would. trust me, the few people i care about are no saints, and yet i’d go to hell and back for them.”
“am i on that list too?”
you meet his eyes, and his expression is so beautifully genuine, full of raw emotion you’ve never seen him show before. it’s then that it finally hits you — kim mingyu actually cares about you.
the worst thing is that you just might care about him, too.
so you gently smile at him with a light shrug of your shoulders. “maybe.”
he reciprocates it, his brown eyes blown wide as he gazes at you. “i’m glad. you’re on my list too, y’know.”
“am i?” you tease, and he nods cheerfully, happy to have verbalized his appreciation for you. “well, i didn’t really see it coming, that’s for sure.”
your words bring mingyu’s thoughts back to the death of your father, the rift you accused him of causing between the two of you. a wave of guilt comes flooding in once more.
“look, i… i know you may not believe me, but i genuinely feel sorry for what happened. for taking something from you. despite the things i saw and heard, i really was too stupid to see that your dad treated you as badly as he did.”
staring him right in the eye, you don’t fail to catch the earnestness in them. “it’s alright. you’re not half as much to blame as i’ve tried to make myself believe you were.”
the words intrigue him. “how come?”
swallowing the lump in your throat, you press your lips together. “because he didn’t care about me. he never did. maybe he was different before my mother died, maybe he wasn’t. i wouldn’t know.”
mingyu tries to hold his ground as he watches you get emotional. he remains quiet in his spot next to you.
“can i tell you something?” your voice is hesitant and almost inaudible, like a child who’s trying to tell their parent they did something wrong.
when he silently nods, you continue.
“you wanted to know why i hated you, right? well, i...” you pause in an attempt to find the right words, “i felt invisible to my father. like i didn’t matter — i was treated like nothing more than a tool to improve his businesses. but you... he treated you like a son. like a person. and i spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong and you did right, and i just... i didn’t get it. i still don’t. but whatever it was, i was jealous that you had it and i didn’t. and everyone loved you and praised you, be it our friends or their parents. everyone in our social circle. from my point of view, no one had ever uttered a single bad word about you, and then when my father began to take a liking towards you as well... i just hated you. you were my perfect scapegoat.”
the guilt on his face is clear as day. when he parts his lips, you already know he wants to apologize again, but you shake your head, speaking up first.
because you don’t hate him anymore.
“mingyu, there was nothing for you to take away from me to begin with. long before you were even present in his life, he didn’t care for me either.” with the corners of your lips turned down, you continue. “i did everything he asked. perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect social life. but he didn’t care. it’s not often i say people have no heart, but he just… he just didn’t have one. for his job, perhaps, for his business partners — but not for anyone outside of his work. i just didn’t think that would go for his own child, too.”
you reach for your forehead, trying to take his attention away from your face, running your hand through your hair while blinking your tears away. why are you telling him all this?
but it just feels so good to finally get it all out.
“you did the best you could.” he tells you, and you nod with watery eyes.
“i did. and somehow, none of it mattered.”
when the first heavy sob leaves you, you try to hold it back, not wanting him to see you break down.
he doesn’t let you. he moves to sit next to you and takes you into his arms, and for the first time in however long, you let yourself break. the tears are your acknowledgement of the pain it has caused you over the years, the damage that will never quite heal and always follow you wherever you go.
you’re not sure why you’re falling apart this easily. you hardly ever cry anymore, perhaps a few times a year, and you usually feel strong enough to hold it all back when you’re in front of others, but this time — this time, you just can’t.
“it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s okay. you’re alright. he’s gone now.” he whispers into your ear as comfort. “but you’re not alone. not anymore.”
his heart shatters when he internally makes the comparison between the loving family he grew up in and the lonely, broken family you could hardly call home.
“why wasn’t i enough? why didn’t he like me?” you mutter to yourself, having lost control as you cry into mingyu’s neck, clinging onto his body as your chest aches.
“because he couldn’t. he didn’t have it in him to care for anyone. that says more about him than it does about you.” he responds, gently stroking your hair, even pressing a kiss to the top of your head.
and for the first time in a long time, you feel… cared for. like you truly matter to someone.
something that feels scary, perhaps even strange, but good.
mingyu’s big arms cage you into his hold, a comforting feeling. to be honest, you wish you could stay with him like this for the whole night. maybe even longer than that.
he rubs your back, feeling the pain in your chest as if it were his own. he’d take all of it if he could. you were damaged in a way that no one deserves, and seeing how much it still affects you and most likely will in the long term, that tears him apart.
the heavy ache in your chest subsides, yet you still cling onto him. you feel the most at ease you’ve ever been with anyone.
“thank you.” you mumble, giving him a tight hug with you wrapping your arms around him ‘till he’s almost suffocating. “i needed that.”
“anytime.”
you eventually finally come down from your breakdown, body slightly twitching as the last tears silently roll down your cheeks.
with your head in his lap, you lay on your side, closing your eyes for a while as the pain in your chest slowly subsides. he’s still rubbing at your clothed skin, and you’re curious if he’s aware it does wonders for calming you down.
“i’m sorry for yelling at you, gyu. after the funeral.” you speak up, voice still raspy. “i was wrong about you.”
mingyu feels his throat tighten up. “it’s okay. i was wrong about you, too. we have more in common than i initially thought we did.”
you wipe your tears away and move to sit upright, finally feeling confident enough to look him in the eye again. “like what?”
both of you are tired. everything that’s happened the past weeks has definitely been causing some sleepless nights for both of you, and with all the alcohol and emotions running high, you’re both feeling a tad drowsy.
he runs a hand through his dark locks. “this part of society — i think it’s exhausting, a lot of the time. full of noise, small talk that’s supposed to hide how cold half these people are, social pressure, all of that. but here, at home, it’s quiet. maybe a little too quiet. the thing is, i have my friends and family that i care about more than anyone else, but i still feel… hollow. like i’m missing something.”
you nod at him. “you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.”
“yeah.” he sighs. “do you feel it too?”
“well, i may not have a family, but i have my friends. and they mean so much to me, and i can talk to them if i need to, but… yeah. i feel it too.”
he wonders if you feel the same connection that he’s feeling right now. he’s drawn to you like a damn magnet.
mingyu already knows he’s a goner when he gently puts his hand on your cheek. he feels electrified by your presence, your voice, even the way you look at him.
he needs you.
“maybe we can be lonely together.”
his words are enough for your breath to hitch in your throat. you doubt you’ve ever wanted to have someone as much as you do now.
and so you cross a line you never thought you would and press your lips to his, desperately needing his touch.
the kiss is harsh but slow, as if you’re aching to taste eachother. his hand makes its way to the back of your head, the other on your back to pull you closer to him.
his heart might as well be lurching out of his chest. god, he feels that excitement and nervousness as if he were his teenage self sharing a first kiss with his crush — yet whatever feeling is clouding his mind is something darker and deeper, something that transcends what he can describe with words.
he kisses you like his life depends on it. once you’ve both pulled back to get some air, looking the other straight in the eye, it’s like you’re silently admitting that the relationship you share is more than just being partners.
it’s something that comes alarmingly close to love.
the moment is harshly interrupted when his phone rings. he blinks a few times before rolling his eyes at the timing, as he’s still half on top of you.
you can do nothing but wait underneath him as he takes the call, and when he closes his eyes and releases a sigh, you know it’s not positive.
“alright, thank you.” he says before hanging up, turning his focus to you. “the alarm at my apartment in the city was triggered. i gotta check it out, i’m sorry.”
“it’s fine.” you mutter out, suddenly unsure of how to talk to him now that you’ve crossed the line that you have.
but mingyu is much more straightforward. his gaze is warm and intense as it finds your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with you. so he shows you that.
just when your lips are about to touch again, he smirks, gently holding your chin. “i’ll be back for this.”
with those words, he catches his breath and gets up from the couch, after which he jogs down the stairs, and half a minute later, you hear the front doors open and close.
the sound allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding.
what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?
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thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x
READ PART TWO HERE
® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.
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grippingbeskar · 2 years
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— joel miller x fem!reader
— warnings: explicit content minors dni, smutttt, dirty talk, very minimal plot sorry not sorry, swearing, needles, mention of injuries/cuts
— a/n: happy tlou release week!! this is set in jackson between the first and second game, i wrote the first part before i saw the show but just imagine with me okay. and it’s literally just bc i saw joel in that denim shirt and went yeah… i wanna fuck him in that. lmao. also dedicated to @everybirdfellsilent because we have been waiting for this show for so long and it’s finally here and oaoxosoxosox. wow.
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You hadn’t asked for much.
It was a simple fix, you were sure of it. Yes, you don’t know anything about how to fix hinges, nor do you have any clue about how you broke it in the first place. Either way, it’s just a few screws and a metal piece, so was it really that hard to find five minutes to fix it?
Leading another one of the horses into the stable, you pointedly step over the gate that now lays on the floor, too heavy for you to move it. The horse tramples it, of course, which is why you had asked for someone to come and fix it before the horses were brought back in from patrol. Clearly, no one gave a shit about your question, but you know they’d all be the first to complain if it was their horse that got out through a broken gate.
It was late now, anyways. Too late for you to get anyone out, and even with the safety of Jackson’s walls keeping you blocked off from the outside world, being out at night still freaked you. When you finally got the horse in your hand settled and fed, you promptly sat yourself on the floor of the stable. Without the front gate, it wasn’t safe to leave the horses alone. With your luck, they’d get spooked and run all the way through town, and the last thing you needed was more reason for the people in here to look at you.
It wasn’t that you weren’t liked— you just kept to yourself. This life was hard enough as it is, and you didn’t see the point in making friends when in five years this place would probably be full of strangers. People die every day out here, you knew that too well. You wanted to save yourself the heartache wherever you could.
All that anti social behaviour certainly didn’t win you any favours though— hence the still broken door. You loved it— you were good with horses, having lived in a farm before the outbreak, so you decided to volunteer to help in the stables, but it was hard work sometimes. It kept you busy enough, though, and horses never wanted to make conversation, so… win-win.
There was only one problem with working in here. Truthfully, it wasn’t so much as a problem and more of a chronic condition. At least, that’s the way it felt every time Joel Miller made some kind of appearance. Most people just left the horses tied up out front for you to take care of, but Joel seemed to enjoy the peace the stable provided— that and you never talked much, which seemed to work for him. On the days he’d come back from patrol, the two of you would share a few hushed conversations as you worked and he hid from the rest of Jackson, and then you’d fall into a comfortable silence, sometimes for hours at a time.
Weeks had passed like this, and every single day you got a little bit more interested in who the man really was, other than his clear infatuation with his horse. Right when he came in would be the time you talked the most, after about forty minutes it would get too busy and you’d work until the sun set. But those forty minutes started to stretch a little longer, and he seemed to gain interest in you, too. Maybe you were grasping at straws, but hearing Joel’s low voice rumble a few more words every time he spoke to you was doing wonders for your self esteem, and even you couldn’t deny the way your face warmed when he smiled at you.
“Hey, you still— damn. What happened here?” Joel calls from the gaping hole that is the stable door, and only because it’s his voice calling you do you look up.
“It’s been broken all day. I asked someone to fix it, but…” You shrug, sighing and leaning your head back on the small gate that was the only thing holding the horse behind you from leaping out down the main street. “I guess they had other shit to do. I can’t move it on my own.”
Joel considers you for a second, how your frame is backed against the gate, conveniently placed at the closest point to the open door. Then, he looks back to the door on the ground, and back up to you. He smirks.
“So you were plannin’ on sitting in here all night?” The weight of the day makes your shoulders slump forward, and for the first time you really consider your plan. “You gonna body check a horse when he makes a run for it?”
“Okay, it was a dumb plan. But, it’s that or let them all out and get stuck cleaning up the bar floor or something.” He smiles again, the setting sun behind him washing over his shoulders in a pretty orange colour. A tilt of his head in your direction has you standing up, taking the lead of his horse that he offers to you.
“You take him, I’ll go get my tools. Fix it up before sun down.” Before you can protest or tell him he doesn’t have to, he’s walking off to the right up the hill where his house sits.
You’d always been a bit jealous of the spot his house is. It’s far away enough from everyone that you get some real privacy, but close to the stables if you need a quick exit. He had a porch, too. One you spent a little too much of your time staring at during your work hours, when he spent his off days strumming a guitar right in your line of sight. He was just… peaceful to observe. He brought a calm to you that no one else seemed to be able to do, almost enough that you could forget about the world outside and just exist in that little bubble for a while.
You lead Joel’s horse inside, hearing it trample the door again, and hang up his saddle next to the stable. Joels horse is much like him— quiet unless provoked. You found it out the hard way when you first led it in with a routinely aggressive horse, thinking it’s demeanour would calm him down. The next morning you woke up to two very angry horses and a half bent gate of steel.
“Saved you your favourite spot.” You say to his horse, Old Beardy. You never asked how Joel picked the name, but for some reason it worked so well— at least, he was definitely older than most. “See? He’s right up there.”
The stable at the back was angled just right so that the small window at the height of a horses head pointed directly towards Joel’s porch. Not close enough to see anything other than the outside, but enough that you know it’s there. You don’t come in here often, Joel always taking his own horse in, but when you do you can’t help but notice the instant calming effect it has on Beardy— you might have more in common with this horse than half the people in Jackson.
When you find your way back to the front, Joel’s footsteps are trudging back down the hill. You’ll be fairly useless as anything other than company while he fixes the door, but you can’t seem to stop your heart from racing a million miles a minute as he gets closer and closer. Yes, he makes you forget about everything on the outside, but that’s mainly due to how insane he drives you. All those conversations in the stables and too long looks in town are just all too consuming, and now, when you see him come into sight, you have to put some physical difference between him and you.
“You don’t have to, Joel. Really, I’m sure someone’ll—“
“No, they won’t. Knowin’ the people around here, you’ll be sleepin’ on the floor till next year.” He bends down, and you drop yourself back to the floor and stare in some kind of mesmerised silence as he runs his hands over the broken hinges of the door.
In a few passing thoughts you’d never admit to yourself, you have an obsession with his hands. He was just so…capable. He could do so many things so easily— and some kind of backward wire in your brain fizzled with electricity at the sight of him in his element. He starts fiddling with tools, first starting to remove the broken hinge, muscles flexing as he tears off the old bolts.
“What happened?” He says, the words muffled by the screwdriver in his mouth.
“I have no clue. When I woke up this morning it was blown in. I spent a good hour trying to move it but it’s so—“ With one arm, he pulls it up to stand vertical, a fist wrapping around the edge of the gate. It doesn’t even look like he tried. “—heavy.”
“Come ‘ere and hold it straight.” He says, keeping one arm out in front of him, the other still holding the door up. “I won’t let it fall. Come on.”
“Like this?” You say, staring down at him as you finally reach the door and take a little bit of the weight. He flicks his eyes up, nodding and shifting on his knees to get a better angle on the door.
“Perfect.” He says softly, looking up at you for another split second before clearing his throat and screwing on a new hinge.
“You really didn’t have to do this, but thank-you.” Joel shakes his head, his fingers fiddling with a latch.
“Least I can do. Everyone should be up here helpin’ you anyways.” He stands up, and with only a barrier the width of a gated door, you can feel his body heat keeping you warm when he towers over you. “Keep holding it still.”
“Yeah.” You manage, eyes fluttering closed. “People help, though.”
“Oh, I bet.” He says, sarcasm dripping off his words as he laughs dryly.
“They do! Sometimes… I mean, it’s not their fault. I’m kind of a hermit up here. I don’t really make an effort, so I can’t blame them.” He stops working, his knuckles white over the railing of the gate, and looks to you.
“You’ve trained all these new horses to track better than those guys ever could. They’d die out there without ‘em. Carl doesn’t know his left from right— he got lost eight times last patrol. It’s cause of your horses he got back safe.” Joel’s face is more serious, his eyes sharp but still with a hint of softness that he often looks at you with. “Doesn’t matter if you ain’t makin’ friends. This ain’t middle school, and people should be helpin’ you no matter what. Least of all fixing a door.”
“That’s why I keep you around, Joel.” You smile lightly, his voice getting lower the angrier he gets.
“Good. You tell me next time, and I’ll come round and help. Avoid the whole town all together.” You hum, letting go of the gate as he hauls it up in the air and shuffled backward, setting it against the hinges. “How do you know so much about horses?”
“I lived on a farm, way back when. Besides, they’re easy to navigate once you get to know them.” Joel puts the screwdriver back in his mouth, and you can’t help but stare at him. The small scars on his face, peppered around his cheeks. Some are older, worn and faded, while the one across his nose is new. It’s not even scarred yet, still fresh
“You okay?” He says softly, tilting his head.
“Your face.” His eyebrows furrow, and you shake your head. “Sorry. You… did something happen on patrol? You have a cut—“
“Just a few clickers. Real old, hauled up in a caravan out west. Nothing we couldn’t handle.” The door drops into place, and he swings it out towards him. It sounds less squeaky than it usually did. “Good as new.”
“You should clean it.” You say, worry edging in your voice. “If it was clickers.”
“I’m fine.” He shrugs it off.
“Come on. It’s the least I can do. I have a first aid kit in the back, and then we can call it even.” He relents, locking the door behind him and stepping further into the stables. “Sit. I’ll get the kit.”
“Yes, ma’am.” You can hear a small smirk on his voice, and you roll your eyes, turning around to find the kit. “Why you got a first aid kit in here anyways?”
“You’re using it now, aren’t you?” You turn around, raising your eyebrows. “You’d be surprised how many people come here before going to medical. I started to stock up a little, do what I can. It’s not much, but I can clean it off and do some botched stitches until they see a real doctor.”
“And none of those guys came up to fix the god damn door?” He was getting angry again, and you tried to ignore the shiver that went up your spine when he spoke like that.
He was sitting on a small stool, putting him about waist height. When you stepped closer, shuffling your feet on the floor, he tilted his head up. His open legs invited you closer, nearly drawing you in with a magnetic field he was completely unaware of.
Armed with a cotton ball and disinfectant, your fingers were light enough to breeze along his jaw to hold him in place. He stares up at you, watching your eyes as they flit between the cut on his nose and his wandering gaze. His face is warm when you work up the courage to place your palm on his cheek, thumb gently smoothing over the salt and pepper flecks of his beard. He doesn’t flinch away when you press the cotton ball to his face, swiping across the bridge of his nose.
“Does it hurt?” You whisper, feeling the need to keep your voice low.
“No.” He does the same, the heat of his body making you shuffle slightly closer. His hands are in fists on his knees, like he’s straining to keep himself still. “Told you it was fine.”
“And I told you I wanted to help.” When you’re satisfied with the results, you take a fresh cotton pad and dry it up. “You might need stitches. It’s deep.”
“Go on.” He says, and you lean back, eyes wide.
“You want me to stitch your face together?”
“Good practise, and I trust you.” The simple words have your heart slamming against your rib cage, but instead of showing it you kneel in between his legs and search the contents of the kit for a needle.
“If I mess up your face, you knew what you signed up for.” When you find what you’re looking for, you straighten, Joel’s face is right in front of you. It takes you a second to realise just how close he is, and the position isn’t lost on him either. It’s probably the most emotive you’ve seen him, his jaw going tight from how hard he’s biting down.
“It’s already messed up. You’re fine.” He manages, his voice strained.
“Hold still.” Whispering the words, you lean closer and bring the needle to his skin. His eyes close, and it’s when you press the point into his nose that his hands shoot out in front of him, holding your hips gently.
“Sorry. Shit—“
“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He grunts in a way you think is affirming, so you keep threading the needle. You only need one stitch for a spot this small. “Your face isn’t messed up.”
“Huh?”
“It’s not. Messed up.” You feel his thumbs stroke along the bone of your hip just once before he stills again. You tie off the stitch, and his eyes open. “There. You’re pretty again.”
Your breathing was rapid even though you didn’t have a true reason for it, but neither of you moved. His hands— strong and so fucking capable, holding you still on your knees in front of him. His eyes were pools, inviting you in with a gleam of something shiny, and where you were nearly gasping he was calm and collected. In his element, like he was right where he should be.
The whole stable was a dull orange now, the colours dusting through the strands of Joel’s hair. It’s never really sitting right, wind whipping it out of control on patrol, but you have the urge to run your hands through it anyway. You let yourself explore one small piece of him, like he has to you, and your fingertips run back over the shell of his ear, tangling in his hair. He sucks in a short breath, leaning into the hold of your hand.
“Joel.” You say, voice so soft he would of never heard you if you weren’t so close, but you call for him and he leans closer. Your foreheads nearly touch, and his hands tighten their hold on you.
“Thank you, darlin’.” You sigh deeply, unable to keep yourself upright at the nickname. It rings through you, his accent strong and adding an entire other layer to why he’s so easy to fall into. You don’t even really notice how dark it’s gotten— you usually have sprinted home by now. But Joel’s here, and with him this close, you can’t think of anything else. He leans closer, and your eyes flutter closed.
“Can I kiss you?” He says, the brush of his lips against yours sending a tidal wave of need from your head to your feet.
“Only if you hurry up.” You answer helplessly, voice cracking, and he smiles against you and finally brings his mouth to yours.
It’s anything but calm. That peaceful energy of the stables is completely shattered and sorted into something electrical and sizzling. He yanks you forward, bodies pressing together as you use the leverage of your hand fisted in his hair to kiss him harder and deeper. It doesn’t take long before his tongue is swiping along your bottom lip, seeking permission.
You let him in— you’d let him do whatever he asked for if he kept pouring himself into you like this. He tasted good, which should be impossible but when you’ve been starved of something for this long it doesn’t matter what he does it’s just that he’s giving it to you. He moves his hands to the small of your back, pressing your hips right in the middle of his open legs, his other hand on the back of your head.
You feel him groan when you press together, the sound waking up parts of you that had been dormant for far too long. It was like he had access to each nerve in your body, and every little sound or touch had them blaring red and sparking.
“Fuck, darlin’. Come closer.” He groans into your mouth before kissing you again. You smile for a moment, not entirely sure how you could get any closer, and then it’s wiped off when he hauls you upward, hooking your legs around his waist on the stool. “Yeah. Right here.”
Your arms cling around his neck, his own searching up and down your body. Your shirt rides up with the movements and you moan every time he grazed along your skin. There’s something equally hard and soft about his hands— rough from years of work but soft with the way they hold you up, how they’re careful not to dip too low or high. You arch your back, giving him wordless permission, and he groans into your mouth again.
At some point you have to breath— both of you gasping for air in the quiet of the darkened stables. He brings his hands to your face, holding you against his forehead so he can look into your eyes. He was smiling too— like actually smiling, not that half smirk you’ve seen so often.
“What are we doin’?” He laughs, kissing you again.
“I don’t know, but can we keep going somewhere that doesn’t smell like horse shit?” You whisper and he laughs again. It’s sounds so good— like the sound of the beginning of your favourite song. It makes your heart sing, melting you into the tune. “Please, Joel. I really want…”
“Tell me, baby.” He moves, angles your head with swift moves of his fingers so he can kiss you lower. Under your jaw, and then he drags his mouth down, along your neck, teeth nipping softly… “Fuck knows I wanna hear you say it.”
“You. I really want you.” He hums against your skin, one arm hooking under your ass as he stands easily. You squeal, muffling the sound in the mop of hair on his head. As you walk outside, there’s only a few people still mulling around, and they turn their heads towards you when they hear your soft laughter mixed with Joel’s— two sounds that seem to alarm them more than clickers.
For the first time since you’d been here, you really don’t care if people are looking at you, or what they’re saying. When Joel locks the gate behind you and slides you down his chest to let your feet touch the floor, you are reminded once again of his ability to remove every single thought from your mind except him. Just him, and his hands on your hips, spinning you around and leading you up the hill towards his house. How every so often he’ll bend down, pressing his lips lightly to the back of your neck, and how you can feel his smile on your skin.
He guides you easily, your body on auto pilot to his small gestures, and when you finally rush up the few steps of his porch— one you’ve spent way too much time staring at from afar, you’re both attached to each others face like horny teenagers. He fumbles with the doors lock, jamming keys with aggressive force while his other hand stays soft and sweet on your waist, holding you against him. When the door gives out behind you he never lets you stumble, taking you in his stride with practised precision. You’ve seen the inside of his house, but never the layout, so as he guides you blindly through the hallway, your shut eyes and occupied mouth never see it coming when you fall backwards onto a bed.
“Let me take this off.” He mumbles against your lips, tugging at your shirt and jacket. In a tangle of limbs you both shove at the material, finally hooking it over your head. He presses you flat against the mattress again, hanging over you and running his hands up and down your sides in long, soothing strokes. “God damn gorgeous.”
“Your turn.” The blaze in his eyes dulls slightly at your comment, and he just bends to kiss you again. He links your hands in his own, pulling you away from where they were tugging at his shirt. “Joel.”
“Nothin’ there you wanna see, baby. Just let me look at you.” As sweet as his voice sounds, and as much as you want him to continue, you pull away from his greedy mouth.
“Please take your fucking shirt off.” You say harshly, biting at his bottom lip hard enough for his eyes to open again. He looks over you, taking in the sight of you under him with your arms pinned above your head, back arched towards him. He’s clearly contemplating how difficult it would be to ignore you, smirking a little when he looks up at your hands again.
“Or what? You gonna make me stop?” He kisses under your jaw, his free hand skating along your side, only stopping when his fingers reach the hem of your jeans. When he hears you gasp as his hand disappears under the fabric, he laughs. “Nah, you won’t make me stop. Want it just as bad as I do, don’t you?”
“But I want—“
“Shh, shh. I’ll give you what you want.” His mouth his dizzying— words and movements hot against your skin as his hand bypasses your underwear and drags slow circles against your clit, immediately drawing his name from your lips again. “There you go, darlin’. Feels good?”
“God— yeah, faster. Please.” Your chest was rising and falling so fast, trying to pull the air he was punching out of your lungs with every quick movement of his fingers. He hums at the praise, and you feel him shift above you, sitting up so he could slip one finger inside of you. “Fuck, Joel!”
“I know, baby.” He tilts his head up to kiss you again, tongue matching the fast and unpredictable pace of his hand. You can feel it building— pleasure rippling up your spine and fizzing low in your stomach, and your hands tug under Joel’s unrelenting grip.
He seems to forget he was meant to be holding you, his groans and concentration all focused on the way he was fucking you with his hand, so he lets you go, his hand going to hold your face. It makes you smile under him, but it quickly gets lost when you moan his name again, rolling your hips against him.
Now your hands are free, you have a moment of clarity when your eyes flutter open and see him staring at you; eyes flitting between your face and your chest. You want to have that— to see skin you’ve only thought about in the late hours of the night when you were alone, never admitting it to yourself when you woke the next day. You grab onto the hem of his shirt, ripping the denim up as far as you can, getting your hands on the bare skin of his back.
He doesn’t help you— too obsessed with the way you are writhing and moaning so loud the poeple down the street will know what your doing. Neither of you care about anything else than this, right here, and the fiery hot spark that’s lighting you up inside.
“Shirt, Joel.” You tug at the collar, then card your fingers through his hair and pull. He grumbles something, and then you whimper when his hand leaves you and he sits up on his knees. He was out of breath, towering over you and keeping you caged underneath him as he tore the shirt over his head and threw it behind him. When he leans back down, he doesn’t give you the time to admire him that you’d like, but you take what he gives you. He shoves your own jeans down, shaking them off you in one tug, and your eyes hardly have time to open before you feel the backs of your calves press against the flexing muscles of his bare shoulders.
“Perfect.” He says, speech almost slurred, and the look he gives you reminds you of the one he gave you in the barn. Before you can think enough on it, both of his hands hold your hips down and he gives you one last look before he buried his face in your pussy.
It doesn’t take much to have you screaming his name again, that sweet hot pleasure that was building so quickly comes rushing back with the wet heat of his mouth. He eats you out like he’s fucking hungry for it— pulling borderline shouts from deep in your chest, like something is bashing against your ribcage, only awoken by his complete and utter devotion. His tongue swirls and fingers curl, and you lose sense of direction, clawing at his hair and feeling his groan when you pull him into you.
There’s no where to go, stuck under his weight as he dives into your taste, at his mercy entirely. It was so different to see him undone— a sight you wouldn’t be able to forget next time he came into the stables all soft eyes and short words. No, here he was holding your eye contact, groaning your name as if you were the one doing this to him. He gave you no choice but to hurtle towards the edge of consciousness, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold out under him much longer.
“Joel. Joel— fuck.” His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while his fingers curl inside you in a spot that has you seeing stars. “Oh, god—“
He doesn’t say anything when you cum, just groans into your pussy as he guides you through it. He sets pace and intensity, both of which are hard and almost unbearable, and he only drags himself away when you beg him to. Your legs shake, his hands smoothing over your thighs as his mouth presses wet kisses up your skin, over your stomach and chest, finally reaching your mouth with an overwhelming force.
You hum, tasting the combination of you and him together on his tongue, taking everything he needs to give you. He shuffles up, and you feel his cock pressing hard against your thigh, still straining in his jeans. You let him kiss you lazily, let him explore you this way while your hands busy themselves between your bodies, unzipping his jeans. When your palm brushes over his length still covered by his boxers, he hisses and his eyebrows furrow, like the pleasure is almost painful. You do it again and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours.
“You’re so soft.” He murmurs past your ear when you slip your hand under the waistband. When your fingers wrap around him, you stay true to his word and stay light with your touch, not wanting him to finish just yet. You want to make it good for him— draw it out. Pay him back for everything he gave to you; not just tonight, but every night. “So fucking soft. Sweet.”
“You like that?” You ask innocently, stroking him again. Your thumb brushes over his tip and he shudders again, nearly shivering. “I can be gentle. Want you inside me, though.”
“Whatever you want. Fuck— anything you want to do to me. Please, baby. Not gonna last long if you keep doing that.” A single please was enough to grant him a thousand wishes, but you’ll settle for giving him just one.
He helps rid himself of the rest of his clothes, no insecurity in sight with the lower half of his body. There was no need to be… he was big. It made sense— he was a big guy, but it wasn’t just that. He was just… perfect.
“Eyes on me.” He says, pulling your gaze away from where your bodies are about to meet. “I want to see your face when I…”
He trails off when his tip lines up with your entrance. You bite your lip in anticipation, feeling the soaked pleasure coating him as he finally slides himself further and further. You both sigh, like a weight is being lifted from both of you. As if this was the way you were both meant to be.
He bottoms out, head buried in the crook of your neck as he chokes out your name. You feel full— the weight and stretch holding you to the bed, your arms strung lazily around his neck. Your fingers wander down his spine, keeping that soft lilt to your touch that he seems to thrive under. For all his hardness and strength, it’s the lightest touches that seem to crumble him the most.
“Fuck, baby. Feel so good around me.” Joel never speaks for the fun of it, but he says these things like he needs to. Strained and focused, like it’s a compulsion to tell you how good it feels. “Needed to fuck you for so long. You gonna let me make you feel good, aren’t you?”
“Yes, Joel. Please, I need— need you to move.” You whine like a spoilt child, and you are now that you’ve had a taste. He laughs once, a breathless sound, and then pulls out nearly all the way, only to slide back in with that same trained pace.
“Good girl.” He groans, and then picks up the pace.
It’s devastating. It’s the only way to describe it. He fucks you hard and slow, slowly etching himself into parts of your being you aren’t entirely sure he didn’t just create himself. Like he’s forged apart of you just for him, something low and hot, and he hits it with every, perfectly timed thrust. The bed rocks under him, but he doesn’t seem to care. Its creaks and groans are drowned out by his words and both of your moans.
You are incoherent— overcome by pleasure that shocks even the nerves in your fingers and toes, but it seems to have the opposite effect on Joel. He doesn’t fucking shut up— and it’s about the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced.
“So fucking tight around me.”
“God, you feel good.”
“You are so beautiful.”
“Gonna fuck you for days.” Is the last one you hear before his groans turn to borderline whimpers, his pace stuttering as you feel the coil in your stomach tighten and snap all at once. “Oh, fuck that’s it. Cum again for me. Jesus Christ—“
“Joel.” You can only whisper now— voice so strained that nothing could come out but his name. Your eyes roll back and you feel him fuck into you one or two more times, and then he pulls out and replaces himself with his hand. You ride out your pleasure on his skilled fingers, another wave of heat numbing you when you feel him spill onto your stomach, your back arching off the bed.
The room is suddenly dead quiet, nothing but panting breaths filling the silent house. He is still hanging over you, you can feel both of his forearms next to your head as he leans down to kiss you again. The warmth of his body is lifted just enough for him to use something soft to clean you off, and then he collapses beside you, tugging you onto his chest.
He runs his hand through your hair, stopping at your jaw to tilt you up. He kisses you again, the lack of oxygen making you giddy and dizzy, and you break the kiss only because your smiling so wide.
“What’s so funny?” He says, trying to be serious, but even in the dark you can see his matching grin.
“Just happy. Can I be happy?” It’s meant to be light hearted, but you feel him stop for a second, and then he tugs you a little closer.
“Yeah. Yeah, you can be.” He tucks you under his chin, sighing deeply as the rest of your body turns into him and tangles itself with him. “I am.”
You open your eyes a final time, seeing the pitch black dark outside. If it was light, you’d be able to see the stable from here, but it’s black out there. Usually it would make you uneasy, but tucked up under Joel’s safe arms, there’s nothing in the world that could make you feel more at peace.
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mywritersmind · 11 days
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MESSY - LN4
pt.1
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summary : After a steamy night together, neither Y/n or Lando expected to see eachother soon. Well, when they find eachother in the paddock and come to the realization that Y/n is a Piastri and Lando is Oscar’s teammate… things get interesting.
listen up : pt.1 bc i had an idea and wanna wait for baku to happen for pt.2! Piastri!sister. Mentions of sex.
word count : 562
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When I entered the paddock with my brother this morning, I expected to not know anyone. Yet when I turn around and my eyes are set upon a man in the same papaya orange that Oscar wears, My jaw drops.
“This is the media pen.” Oscar whispers in my ear as we stand in the back, “Never been on this side.” then, just like that, my fear comes true. He points at him, “That’s Lando- my teammate!”
“Lando?” I repeat because I'm in such a shock that I can’t say anything else.
“Mhm. You’ll like him.” Oh yeah, he has no idea how much. Maybe enough to fuck him!? God what kind of sick joke is this!?
Lando’s eyes stray from the reporter for one second, but it’s enough for his eyes to find me. He does a double take. He looks as shocked as I feel.
Seeing the guy who I hooked up with after meeting for five minutes in a dark club four days ago was NOT on my to do list today!
He pulls his eyes away and looks back at the reporter. What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
⋆。‧˚⋆
“What the hell?” Lando managed to corner me after my brother left me in hospitality, “What the actual hell?” I mentally groan, not wanting to deal with this.
“I feel the exact same!” My hand goes to my curled hair, “Lando Norris? Seriously!?”
“You think that’s crazy? You’re my teammate's bloody sister!” he looks nauseous, “How did you not know who I was?”
We didn’t exchange names. We were both tipsy, could barely see with those damn strobe lights, then were blinded by lust- apparently!
I roll my eyes, “Oh please, not everybody knows you.”
“No.” He grits his teeth together, “But you should! Haven’t you seen photos? You’re telling me you have never seen Oscar and I together?”
I groan, “I don’t have social media! I watch F1 for Osc and you all have helmets on! Fuck this is messy.” I always skipped the media parts and Oscar doesn’t talk much about his job when he’s home.
We’re in Baku this weekend, I may have gone out alone and found comfort in a random guy. That same random guy made out with me in a corner and took me to his hotel after.
I groan, “Oscar can NOT know about this!”
“No shit!” Lando shakes his head, taking a breath before looking at me again, “I’m sorry… Im not upset. I mean, how could I be after our night?” He laughs to himself but my face remains flat, “I’m stressed this weekend.”
I sigh, flattening my nice black dress, “It’s okay. Neither of us knew.”
He looks pained again, “I can’t believe you are his sister.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I raise a brow skeptically.
“You’re just…“ He tries to find the words, “hot?”
I laugh, placing my hands on my hips, “Good to know you like one thing about me.”
“Trust me love, I like many things about you.” I punch him in the arm.
“Hush up!” I shake my head, “Makes sense that you’re a driver though.”
“Oh?” He crosses his arms. God his arms.
“It explains the stamina.” I shrug and walk away.
“Just because you’re his sister doesn’t mean I’m not up for another round!” I flip him off.
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Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Summary: friends-to-lovers, mutual pining, lots of parallels, reader is a lil down on herself but don't worry, eddie is down bad for her.
Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed and smoking, smut!! 18+, minors DNI.
AN: do i write 90% of my fics based on what pops into my head when i hear a certain song? yeah. also this is only half edited bc life. enjoy bbs <3
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“Okay, okay,” You laughed. “One more hit then I’m tapped out, Eds.”
Eddie grinned, speaking through a half-held breath. “Oh no, Sweetheart. New stuff hittin’ a little too hard?”
You inhaled deeply, passing back to him what was left of the joint. It went straight to your head, and you flopped back, laying comfortably on Eddie’s bed.
Eddie inhaled, following suit, making your body bounce as he hit the mattress.
“Shit,” he mumbled. “Feel like I’m fuckin’ flying.” He grips your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. “Don’t let me float away, okay?”
You smile at him, taking in how fucking beautiful he looks under the dim lights in his bedroom.
“Never. You’re stuck with me, Eds.”
He looks down at you, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. He took you in like he'd done 100 times before. Eyes trailing from your nose, to your eyes, landing at your mouth.
So fucking beautiful.
“Good," he breathes, pulling you in closer. "Just the way I like it.”
Eddie let go of you hand, only to wrap his arm around you and pull you into his chest. He placed a kiss to the crown of your head, "This okay?"
It's all I want. You think.
"Or do we have to get up and go watch that cheesy chick-flick I promised we'd watch.
You sighed, fiddling with the hem of your denim skirt. "I'd stay here all night if you let me."
That's all I want. He thinks.
Eddie leans back a bit, looking down at you. He's not sure if it's the weed making his so emotional, but he swears he could cry just looking into your eyes. "What am I gonna do if one of these dates you keep going on works out? What if someone takes you from me?"
He tries to sound relaxed, but the truth is, the thought keeps him up at night. There’s gonna be a guy that steals you away from him one of these days. Someone who can give you everything he can’t, someone brave enough to open their mouth and tell you just how much they love you.
and it'll crush him.
The laugh that escapes you is a cynical one, "Eddie, I've been on three dates with three different men, and I've gone home alone each time."
"So?" He asks.
"So," You scoff. "It means no one is interested in doing anything with me."
It’s true—to you at least. The guys you’d gone out with were either not looking to be tied down, or ran once they met you. The last guy thought you’d be easy because ‘the freak’s best friend has to be a freak herself right?’
The dates were a distraction for you. As your heart pined over the one guy you could have it all with, it was breaking too. Eddie hadn’t made a move on you—ever, and you weren’t brave enough too.
So the two of you sat in limbo, completely unaware that the other person was right there with you.
Eddie sits back, releasing you from his arms. "Why do you do that?"
"Do what?" You ask, sitting back as well.
"That. Act like you're the problem, and not these shitty fucking dudes you keep going out with.” Eddie tried to control his tone, but his temper got the better of him. He cursed at himself for it.
Jesus H. Christ, Munson, get it together.
You push back from him fully now, "Eddie, the common denominator is me. I-I'm fucking broken or something."
“Stop that.” He seethed.
It’s a command—a tone you've heard him use with Steve, or Dustin, but not you.
Never with you.
Eddie stood as you sat up, hanging your legs off the edge of the bed.
"What--"
He turned back and got to his knees right in front of you.
“Stop talking about yourself like that. It’s fucking ridiculous.”
He was close to you, and with him on his knees, his gaze was just at your eye level. “You’re not broken. There's nothing wrong with you, you’re—you’re fucking perfect.”
“Eddie…”
“No, no, just…just shush for a second.” Eddie moved his hand to your cheek, his thumb sweeping across it gently. “You think all this shit about yourself and it’s just not fucking true. I wish, for a second, you could see yourself how I see you. I fucking adore you.”
You feel the warmth of his breath on your nose. His large hand on your cheek warms you, and you lean into the touch, closing your eyes.
Everything is Eddie in this moment. He’s invading every sense you had.
It’s overwhelming.
You can feel your eyes brim with tears. “You don’t have to say that, Eds. I’m okay. I’m just…I’m lonely, that’s all.”
Eddie’s breath caught in his throat. He watched you, he saw the tears hidden beneath your lashes. How could you not see it? See how you were…everything to him?
His mind stopped for a moment, deciding whether or not to take the leap, to risk it all and not run for once.
Fuck it.
“I’m right here, Princess. I’ve been right here.” He leans his forehead on yours.
You exhale his name, “Eddie,”
“What,” he’s quick to ask. “What is it, Sweetheart?”
Your on fire with how close he is to you. But he doesn’t mean it, not in the way you hoped he would…does he?
Your eyes open, seeing his beautiful brown ones searching your face for some kind of clue as to what you’re feeling. You clasp your hand on top of his. “Please,” you beg. “Please don’t say things you don’t mean just to make me feel better. My heart can’t take it.”
He laughs softly, bringing his other hand up. He’s cradling your face gently, “Oh, Honey. You have no idea just how much I mean it.”
Eddie is overwhelmed with you. You’re everywhere, and he can’t fucking think straight. Probably a good thing right about now, because he’s about to do something he never thought he’d be lucky enough to do.
“Can,” he clears his throat. “Can I kiss you, Baby?”
With zero hesitation, you nod, earning a chuckle from Eddie.
“Gotta use your words, sweet thing.”
“Yes,” it comes out as a plea. “Kiss me...please.”
Warm warm warm.
It’s all you feel when he leans in. Then his soft lips are on yours, all the while he’s holding you as if you’d be the one to float away.
Eddie kisses you like he’s done it a thousand times. Like he knows your lips and the pattern that drives them crazy. He’s trying to tell you everything he’s been too afraid to say since the moment he met you.
There’s no one but you.
You’re everything.
I love you, please, let me love you.
Regrettably, you pull away. Breathless from the kiss, but also how surreal this moment is.
“I-I,” you sigh, touching your forehead to his. “I’ve wanted to do that for forever.” It comes out as whisper. As if you’d scare him away if you said it too loud.
Eddie smiles, a relieved laugh passing his lips. “Yeah?”
You nod, “Yeah.”
It’s quiet for a beat, Eddie is looking at you so softly and with such care.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says with all of the conviction in the world. “My pretty girl.”
“Am I?” You ask. “Am I yours?”
He nods, "If you want to be." He moves his hands, resting one on each thigh. He rubs them absentmindedly, likes he's trying to flatten the goosebumps that had prickled across your skin. “...and I’m yours. You've got me, Honey.”
Eddie's grin was still a shy one. You brush your hand across his face, pushing back any stray hairs. "Eds?"
He grips your wrist gently, placing small, tender kisses along the inside of it. The gesture is so simple, but it sends a heat through you like you've never experienced before.
"What is it, pretty girl? Whatever you want, whatever you need...it's yours."
You intertwine your fingers with his smoothly, "You, Eddie. Need you. Wanna make you feel good, Eds."
Now it was his turn to get goosebumps.
"Fuck, Angel. You can't just say that to me." He breathes.
Your bedroom eyes blink twice, "Please?"
A strangled moan vibrates from his chest, "Who am I to deny the fair maiden what she asks for?" Eddie stands, holding out a hand for you.
You're pulled to your feet by him, and he's looking at you through a brand new set of eyes. "One problem with that though, Princess. You come first."
You gasp as his hands take purchase of your ass, pulling you into him. "If anything, and I mean anything is too much, or too weird, you tell me, okay?"
You're nodding again, and he tuts at you. "Uh-uh. Words, baby."
Your arms fall around his neck and you press your body against his. "Yes, sir."
"Ho-ly-shit." He moans. "Yeah, I'm gonna kiss you now. Cool? Cool."
He's hungrier this time, kissing with teeth and tongue as his roaming hands explore your body.
"Eddie, Eddie..." You breath through swollen lips. "Too many clothes."
"You a mind reader or something?" He jokes, ripping the t-shirt from his body. His body was a work of art in more ways than one, and seeing it now, like this, made you crave it all the more.
You watch as Eddie falls to his knees, "Can I?" He asks, pulling at your skirt.
"God, yes."
He unbuttons the fastener, pulling the distressed denim down until it's pooling at your ankles. Eddie then came face to face with your black-lace covered heat.
"I-I'm dead right? I've died and now I'm at the pearly gates."
Your hands cover your face, "Eddie! Stop!"
He stands quickly, "No, baby, no. God, please don't hide from me." He pulls your hands away gently.
Your shirt is next to go, and so is the matching bra. Eddie pulls his pants down, leaving his boxers on.
"Lay down for me, Princess. Wanna take care of you.”
The timber of his voice makes you tremble. Once your comfortable on the bed, Eddie climbs on too.
“Now, I know this is all new, and we’re figuring things out as we go, but…” Eddie pauses, laying on his stomach between your legs.
He starts kissing his way up your legs. “I’ve been dreaming of eating this pussy for a long, kiss, long, kiss, long time.”
You’re so turned on you can barely speak, but you manage to get out a quiet. “Well what are you waiting for?”
Your thong is thrown into parts unknown, and Eddie starts to feast like a man starved.
“Eddie, fuck—“ his tongue explores your heat. His hands hold onto your hips as you grind down onto his mouth.
“Uh-uh, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you, Princess.” He dives back in, lips sucking on your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He slips in one, the two fingers. Pumping and curling them slowly until he finds the spot that makes you see stars.
The fire in your belly is growing and you feel your legs start to shake. “Holy fuck, Eds—Eds I’m gonna cum!” Your hands take purchase in his hair, giving it a sharp tug as you feel the heat engulf you.
Eddie eats your pussy, drinking you in as you cum.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” You release your grip on his hair as you come down from your high.
Eddie crawls up your body, kissing you. You taste yourself all over his tongue. “Don’t be sorry, Baby. Let’s me know you’re enjoying yourself,” he kisses you once more. “Plus, I kinda like it.”
You’re both breathing heavy.
Now it’s his turn.
Your hands touch his shoulder, pushing him gently. “What’re you doing, pretty girl?” He asks softly.
When Eddie’s leaned back against the headboard, you pull his boxers off. Pink, uncut cock springing from it's confines.
God damn...he's fucking huge.
"Gonna ride you, Eds. Let you feel what you did to me." You climbed on top of him, "Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?"
Eddie's nodding, not sure what part of you he wants to look at more.
"Uh-uh," you tease. "Use your words, Handsome."
"Fuck," He breathes. He palms your bare chest, moving the pads of his thumbs over your nipples. "Do whatever you want to me, use me, I'm yours." He leans forward, hot mouth latching to your other breast.
You sit up, allowing Eddie's hard length to slip inside your aching cunt. The sheer stretch and size is enough to snatch the breath from your lungs.
"Eds...Eds, shit. S'big." You moan.
His eyes close as he bottoms out inside of you, "So tight. Fuckin' pussy was made for me, she wants my cock. Won't let it go. She greedy, baby?"
You adjust to his size filling the void inside you. Eddie hold your hips as you begin to ride him, helping you to keep a steady rhythm.
"Look at you, Princess. Cock-drunk already, hm?" He teases.
Eddie is whispering praises as he fucks up into you.
Such a good girl.
Taking me so well.
My pretty girl.
Mine.
Eddie's pace quickens, and you feel the tremble return to your legs.
"Eddie, fuck, I--"
"I know, Honey. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. Let go, Angel. Go on, cum for me."
His words are like a spell.
You cum harder than you did on his mouth, and this time, it's his cock that's drenched in your essence.
"Gonna cum, Sweetheart. Where--"
You're entirely lost in everything Eddie. "Inside me, Eds. Fuck, please cum inside me."
"Shit, shit, shit." Eddie's moves become erratic. Sloppy thrusts chasing his release, and when he does, he all but growls in your ear.
He's breathless and spent, but his arms wrap around you. Eddie holds you, softening inside you. He kisses the center of your chest, the trail making its way across your shoulder, up your jaw, and to your lips.
"Hi." He says quietly.
You giggle softly, "Hi."
"So uh, not sure if this is a good time or not..."
You kiss his nose, "Hmm?"
"I-I...I love you. I don't know, just felt like someone should tell you, might as well be me." Eddie's big brown eyes search your face for any sign of regret or discomfort.
Nothing.
You kiss him deeply, "I'm glad you told me, otherwise I'd be sitting over here, in love with you, looking all silly by myself."
Eddie holds you tighter. "You, you love me?"
You giggle, "Edward Munson. I love you."
He pulls you closer, "You love me." It's a statement now.
Eddie lays his head against your bare chest. "I'm gonna get you cleaned up in a second, Sweetheart. Just wanna hold you for a little."
Rubbing small circles on his back, you kissed the top of his head. "I'm not going anywhere, Handsome."
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inkedbybarnes · 6 months
Text
anything
bucky barnes x fem!reader
summary: bucky is determined to take care of you while you're sick.
word count: 1.6k+
warnings: mentions of insecurities, mentions of illnesses (but vaguely described), fluffy ahh shit bc why not, usage of pet names such as baby and doll. bucky being stubbornly sweet (it is indeed, a warning), lowercase writing.
i've been sick the past few days hence the creation of this fic. idk why my mood drops when i'm sick... once again, this is too fluffy even for my own good but i warned you and you're reading it still anyway. 🤨 haha jk, i hope you enjoy this one! 🩷
dividers by @cafekitsune!
reblogs, comments, and likes are highly appreciated! thank you. ♡
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“can you please let me in, baby?"
that was the fifth time bucky had asked the same question, never giving up on his mission to take care of you after learning from jarvis – out of all people... or robots? – that you were sick.
“bucky, i promise, i'm fine. stop trying to break the door,” you answered, your clogged nose not helping as you sounded horrible even with a concrete wall separating you from him. “go and tell steve that you're joining the mission. you can't withdraw yourself just because i'm—achoo!”
your nose began to leak, and you were now distracted with the need to find the tissue box that used to be on your bed. you didn't hear the door clicking open as well as the heavy footsteps of a certain soldier walking towards you.
“just because you're what? sick?”
you jumped, feeling the edge of the bed sink with his weight. you quickly grabbed the tissue box that was mysteriously thrown under the bed before facing bucky with the duvet covering most of your body.
“how did you open the door?”
bucky shrugged. “i broke the doorknob. you didn't say anything about breaking doorknobs.”
you sighed, not winning this argument with bucky. “you shouldn't be here, bucky. you're supposed to be preparing for a mission tomorrow, not babysitting me!”
“and let you go through this on your own? tough chance, doll. i'm your boyfriend for fuck's sake, and don't tell me that you're worried about getting me sick because we both know i'm immune," he argued, reaching out and pulling the blanket down enough to reveal your face. “are you really upset that i want to take care of you? you should be demanding things from me, baby. instead you've been hiding from me.”
“because i don't need anything, bucky. i can handle myself just fine." you huffed, knowing you wanted his attention and care so badly. remembering your face was exposed, you felt insecure again. you dragged the cover back up and turned away. “i also don't want you to see me like this.”
“like what?"
“like a mess," you muttered underneath the sheets. “you've never seen me like this before, and i swear i am the worst when i'm sick. you don't have to see me like this, okay? i don't want you to.”
you felt silly. it was completely normal to get sick, but you hated how extreme your body would act out whenever an illness would attack you. you'd always sound and look like you were fighting a battle in hell alone. the way your mind would take an entire flip and drag you to your lowest point didn't help either. so, not only were you feeling physically horrible, you were also struggling mentally.
“a mess? what mess?” he asked, lifting the cover to join you underneath it which caught you off guard. you were entirely exposed to his eyes now. “there's my girl. where's the mess that you're talking about, huh?”
with the little amount of energy left in you, you brought your hands up to cover your face. he could see how much of a mess you were now, far from the dream you've painted since the day you dated him. now, you were nothing but a nightmare of your reality.
“don't you dare hide from me. i haven't seen you all day and it's driving me insane," he complained, pulling your hands away from yourself. he brought his thumb to your teary eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fall. “i can't believe you're hiding from me just because you think i can't handle seeing you sick. what did you think i'd do once i saw you like this?”
you sniffed, hesitation holding you back from telling him the truth. it's only been three months since you've started dating bucky, and you were still in that stage where you'd constantly try impress him.
you weren't faking yourself, no. however, you still did your best to only show your good side and tuck away your insecurities. unfortunately, you had to get sick too soon and have to risk bucky seeing you this way.
“you thought i'd leave you? won't like you anymore? get turned off or something?”
you nodded, knowing that was exactly what went through your head and a bit pissed that he was able to read your mind without actually having the power to do so.
bucky's eyes softened at your confession, letting out a soft sigh as he saw how badly you were beating yourself up.
“if it's because of how you look right now, then it's true. you do look different," he answered, your chest tightening. “your eyes lost their glow, you're frowning more often, your eyes are all puffy, you are definitely grumpier than usual, your lips are dry and chapped from—”
“okay, i get it, bucky! you don't have to rub it in my fa—”
“but i won't be doing whatever is on your mind. you're sick, doll. it'll affect you. it's normal. hell, i look even worse when i used to get sick, but you? you still look so fucking lovely." he held your face gently, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “even then, i don't give a fuck on how messy you can get. i'm your boyfriend. i should be taking care of you, helping you feel better, and bringing back the glow in your eyes. please, baby. let me take care of you.”
this time, you were looking back at him. "you mean it?"
"of course I mean it," he replied softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "i love you, doll. i don't care how you look like right now. you could look like a swamp monster and be sick as a dog, and i would still think that you are the most beautiful woman for me."
you giggled softly, his words filling you with warmth and reassurance. you felt so lucky to have a man who truly loved you and handled your insecurities with such understanding and care, and even sillier for thinking he'd leave you for such reasons.
“thank you. that really made me feel better," you told him, your arms slowly creeping forward to hold him. “i'm sorry for hiding. i was just scared to turn you off or anything.”
“are you kidding? i'm trying my best not to hold you down and kiss you all over. i haven't even hugged you for a day,” bucky said, a pout on the verge of forming on his face.
“it hasn't even been a day, bucky. now, who's dramatic?" you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “and you're supposed to be on a mission tomorrow! are you really not going?”
“when i could be here taking care of you?” he asked, as if the answer was already obvious. “the others can handle it. my main priority is to do anything you want and make you feel better.”
“anything?”
he smiled, leaning down to let your lips meet softly. "anything."
( a lil bonus < 3 )
“what is that smell?”
sam, steve, and natasha entered the compound after a quick briefing for their mission tomorrow. they joined tony and clint who were having a casual conversation in the living room about the best burrito in town.
the kitchen was an open space, the aroma of whatever bucky was cooking spreading all around the nearby rooms.
sam didn't hesitate to come closer and inspect the kitchen, finding the entire counter lined up with various spices and plates that bucky filled with his dishes.
“what's the occasion? did i miss something?" sam asked, grabbing a fork to take a little taste until bucky slapped his hand away. "ow! what was that for?"
"hands off." bucky warned, frowning at sam. “that's not for you, wilson."
“not even a nibble? come on, man. it smells amazing!”
their usual bickering caught the attention of the other avengers, immediately joining them in the kitchen which annoyed bucky even more when he saw them eyeing the food he made.
"before any of you try to ask, no. this is not for any of you."
"who's it even for?" natasha asked, the least interested to have a taste, but was curious either way.
bucky answered with your name. "she's sick."
"what? since when?" clint asked, worry flashing across his face. "can we do anything?"
bucky glanced up before hesitantly answering. "well.. she did say she wanted to watch a movie after eating."
clint snapped his fingers and smiled. "i'm on it."
"i'll get jarvis to check on her vitals every hour and create a diagnosis," tony said, already tapping on his smart watch. "assuming she wouldn't be too comfortable letting the entire team know what's going on with her body, i'll just let you receive the updates. just update me with what you can, yeah?"
"i'll talk to fury and let you both have a week free from work," steve offered. "she needs the rest and she needs you."
"oh, i'll handle fury. he can't say no to his favourite," natasha said with a smug smile. "tell her i'll bring her all her favourite snacks once we're back from our mission, and that she better be back to full health so we can go out together."
bucky nodded, chest warming with the genuine concern they shared. he was excited to let you know how loved and deserving of all this you were.
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if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌
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sunflower-lilac42 · 3 months
Text
𝗳𝗶𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶𝗻 | 𝘭𝘩43 ❀
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➪ summary: where y/n helps dog sit for quinn's friend, fills in for jack's missing plus one, goes out on a night on the town, and gets into a fight with her family
➪ warnings: luke being sick, mentions of throwing, y/n and jack thinking their a horrible girlfriend/brother, parents fighting, reader has brother problems, crying
➪ word count: 5.8k
➪ file type: girlfriend series fic - part three (yay but sad)
➪ sunny's notes: i can't believe this is the last girlfriend series fic :( i did write two bonus scenes for you so... if you didn't see, i am wanting to do requests/blurbs based off of these! just let me know which girlfriend you want and want scenario or whatever you want them to react to (ex: 'how would quinn's girlfriend react to jack getting hurt' or 'how would quinn and luke react to jack's girlfriend buying them gifts') i really hope you guys are excited about this bc i am too! i am so in love with this series and you guys have no idea how happy i am that you guys like it.
quinn's version || jack's version || the girlfriend series || nhl masterlist
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⟹ quinn and the puppy-sitter
While he had initially agreed to dog sit his friend’s dog, he was now seriously regretting it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like dogs, because he did, but it was the fact that he would have spent hours upon hours alone in a house by himself. He watched the clock, dreading it as the seconds ticked by until he had to leave. That was until an idea sparked in his mind.
He always knew that his brother’s girlfriend loved puppies, it was the one thing that she made sure to tell everyone as soon as she met anyone. He was lucky enough that she lived just a few minutes away from his friend's house, wasting no time in calling her.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Quinner. What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Are you busy?”
Y/n put away one of her shirts, moving around the bedroom, “No, why?”
“Well I have this friend, and he sort of asked me if I wanted to dog sit, and I-”
“Can I come?”
He chuckled, nodding, “That’s the reason I called. Didn’t want to go over there by myself and you’re like the biggest dog person I know.”
“Yay, okay! Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”
Ten minutes later, y/n left her house and practically skipped down the street to where Quinn had said his friend lived. By the time she arrived, Quinn’s car was in the driveway and he was standing on the porch on his phone. She smiled and walked the rest of the way up the steps, pausing once he finally looked up.
“Okay, her name is Pepper and she’s a black lab, I don’t remember how old they said she was.”
“Awwww.” Y/n bounced on her feet, waiting for him to open the door. She could hear the faint scratching on the wood from inside the house and only melted even more.
As soon as Quinn opened the door, a dog ran out and straight into y/n’s arms, who smiled and picked the puppy up with no effort. She pet Pepper softly, speaking random words in a cooing manner. Meanwhile, Quinn walked inside the house to read the note his friends left, waiting for her to follow. She came in a few minutes later, the puppy trailing happily behind her.
“So what do we have to do?” Y/n took the seat next to him at the island, swinging her legs back and forth as much as she could. 
“Just feed her in an hour or two and then take her outside when she needs to. That’s it, they said we could watch TV if we wanted to.”
She nodded and looked down at the puppy in between the two chairs who was now looking up at Quinn with big eyes, “Aw Quinner, she wants you to hold her!”
He chuckled, “How do you know?”
“I just do, here.” She hopped off the chair and picked the dog up, handing it to her boyfriend’s brother. His eyes widened as he now held the puppy, running a finger on the top of his hand.
“Where’s the bathroom?”
“Oh down the hall and to the right.”
A few minutes later, y/n came back and saw Quinn now sitting on the ground in the living room, playing with Pepper. She sat down beside them, turning the TV on and shifting her focus between the puppy and the screen. Once she found something to watch, she reached into the bucket of dog toys and pulled one out, excited to play with her newfound friend.
“How long have you liked dogs?”
“My whole life, really. Actually, when I was one I apparently was so scared by a dog that I fell over.” He couldn’t help but laugh, “No way.”
“Oh yeah, baby me was terrified of dogs. That was until I turned three or four and we got a puppy of our own. His name was Dino, my brother named him.” She shook her head before continuing, “He was a husky. He died when I was a junior in high school, so five years ago?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We got a dog right before I went to college which sucked, of course, but she’s fun. Her name’s Wolvie.”
He raised an eyebrow, “What I was going to Michigan, what did you expect?” 
He laughed and the two continued to play with Pepper before she spoke up again, “How’s Luke?”
“Good, won’t stop talking about you though.” She blushed and looked down quickly, “Really?”
“Yep. No offense but if I have to hear one more word come out of his mouth about you I might lose it. Which basically means, can you please come see him soon?”
“Is he home tonight?”
“I think so.”
“Alright, I’ll come back to your place. I just have to go home and grab my car.”
He shook his head, “I’ll drive you. I’m sure Luke would be okay taking you home too.” She looked hesitant at first but nodded once she saw the look on his face, a look that only an older brother could have. 
A few hours later, his friends came home and the two of them were able to leave soon after that. Driving home with Quinn was an experience, they had the radio low and the windows rolled down slightly, an experience that was completely different from her older brother.
“You know, I don’t think my brother ever let me roll the windows down in summer, it was always the AC cranked and windows shut, it was his one rule. And he didn’t allow me to pick the music.”
“Well, I couldn’t care less if you have the window down and play whatever you want. I only choose when I’m by myself or Jack and Luke are in the car with me.”
She nodded, “Plus, you’re a better driver than him. I always feel like we’re gonna crash when I’m with him.”
His eyes widened slightly in concern, “That bad?”
“Meh, he just likes getting from point A to point H as quickly as he can.” She shrugged, “I’ve gotten used to it.”
They pulled into his driveway and as they approached the door, Quinn told her to wait outside. She could hear his voice echo through the house, “Luke, I brought you a surprise!”
“Really? Is it food? Because if it’s not food, I don’t want it.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, of course, he was worried about food. She saw Quinn’s hand usher her into the house and she frowned slightly as she stepped through, “Not even me?”
Luke perked up and instantly ran over to her, hugging her tightly, “Just kidding. This is the only surprise I want.” 
He pulled away and smiled at her, kissing her head, “Hi baby.”
“Hi Lukey.” Quinn only smiled fondly at them, walking off to his bedroom. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ jack and the plus one
Jack was panicking, he had less than an hour to find a plus one to attend an event he had to go to. He hadn’t had one originally but he was just going to be hanging out with Luke the whole night so he didn’t have to worry about bringing someone. And then, Luke got sick. His head was hurting and he couldn’t even get up, he was miserable. 
Y/n had come over earlier, trying to take care of him, and it was only when she was talking about having nothing to do so she could take care of Luke was when it hit him. He immediately ran into his brother’s room to see him and his girlfriend sitting on the bed, watching something on TV, “Hey.”
The two of them looked over at the boy, Luke being the one to talk, “Hi? What do you want?”
“Can I borrow your girlfriend?”
“Borrow my what?”
“Your girlfriend.”
“Okay, hi hello! I’m right here and I have a name, Jackson.”
“That’s not my name.”
“At least I used one.”
“Okay okay, anyway. Why do you want to borrow my girlfriend?”
“For the event, I really don’t want to go alone.”
“I don’t really understand what that has to do with her.”
“I want her to go with me.” He looked at the girl, “Please.”
“I don’t know Jack…” She shifted uncomfortably in Luke’s arm, avoiding his gaze.
Luke looked down at her and then back up at his brother, “Up to her.”
“I don’t know anyone.”
Due to not being able to see Luke since he went to New Jersey, y/n hadn’t gotten a chance to meet any of the team. Now that she got the chance, she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to without her boyfriend. She wasn’t uncomfortable with Jack, it was more the idea of having to the team for the first time and being introduced as Luke’s girlfriend and he was nowhere to be found.
Jack immediately pouted and gave the two his best puppy dog eyes, “Please please please please.”
“Jack she said she didn’t want to-”
“It’s okay, I’ll go.”
“Really?” The two exclaimed in different tones, Jack’s happy and Luke’s incredulously. 
She nodded and looked over at Luke, “I’ll be okay, finally get to meet your team.”
Now it was Luke’s turn to pout, “But I won’t be there.”
“I’ll take care of her, Lukey. Now c’mon, we’ll leave in an hour.”
Jack ran out of the room, practically bouncing off the walls and the couple looked at each other, “I know you said you wanted to introduce me to the team, but I really couldn’t say no to his face. It was too cute.”
“Cuter than mine?”
“Never.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek before getting up, “If you need anything let me know and I’ll make Jack drive me home.”
After she got ready, she walked back out into his room and Luke let out a low whistle, “You’re going out like that? Without me?”
“Sorry, Lukey. But I’ve been waiting for this day forever and I wanted to look good.” He pouted again and reached his arms out for her.
She giggled as she made her way over to him, standing at the edge of the bed as he hugged her, “Make sure to tell them you’re mine.”
Y/n ran a hand through his hair, “Of course. Now-”
“Y/n! Come on, we’re going.”
“Need anything before I go?” He shook his head.
“Alright bye, Lukey. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Y/n walked out of the room and into the foyer where Jack was standing. He smiled at her and opened the door, “You look pretty.”
She blushed and looked down, “Thank you.”
The two made their way down to Jack’s car, riding in silence to the venue. She fidgeted with her fingers as Jack parked the car and he glanced over at her, “You’ll be fine.”
“I know, I know. It’s just hard without Luke here.”
He frowned, “You know, you didn’t have to come. I hope I didn’t seem like I forced you to.” 
Y/n shook her head, “No of course not, I wanted to come, believe me.”
Jack smiled and got out of the car, making his way over to her side to open the door. He helped her out and then offered her his arm, “Let’s do this, little sis.”
“Little sis?”
“C’mon, we all know it’s coming.” She threw her head back and laughed, “Not for a while I hope. I’m still in school and he still lives with you.”
The two walked into the venue, immediately greeted by the crowd of people. She took a deep breath before nodding up at Jack, allowing him to lead them further into the room. Jack scanned the crowd, looking for the easiest person to introduce her to, “I’ll let you meet Nico first, he is our captain.”
Her eyes widened, “Well I’m glad you're here then.”
“What why?”
“I once told Luke I thought Nico was cute, way before I started dating him, and he ignored me for almost the whole day.”
Jack laughed and urged her further, trailing slightly behind, “I am not surprised. But you’re not wrong, Nico does-”
“Have a great ass? I know.”
“Not what I was going to say, but that works too.”
The two approached the Swiss man, waiting patiently for him to finish the conversation he was in, “Jack!”
“Hey, man.” The two hugged and Nico’s eyes drifted to the girl beside him, “And who is this?” 
She blushed under his gaze and looked down, “This is Luke’s girlfriend.”
“Luke’s girlfriend, wow.” She looked back up and stuck her head out, “I’ve been referred to as his girlfriend this whole day, but my name is actually y/n.”
“Nice to meet you, y/n. So where is your boyfriend?”
“He’s sick and Jack begged me to come tonight so I gave in.”
“Puppy dog eyes?”
“Yes, how’d you know?”
“He uses them to get out of things way too often.”
Jack shrugged from beside them, “It works. I’m gonna go get a drink, do you want anything?”
“Just water, please.” He nodded and walked away, leaving her with his captain.
“C’mon, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the team.”
By the time Jack got the two drinks and walked back over to the two of them, she was now surrounded by Dawson, Nico, Jesper, Erik, Curtis, Timo, and Jonas, laughing at something someone said. He looked at them in amusement, coming to stand behind her, “Here’s your water.”
“Thanks, Jack.”
“So Jack, who is this? Nico wouldn’t tell us until you got back.” Jesper raised an eyebrow at his teammate.
“This is Luke’s girlfriend, y/n.”
Half of the group choked on their drinks, coughing a little as a result. Y/n looked around the group, confused, “What?”
“Lukey’s girlfriend? No way, man.”
“What?” She protested a little.
“Little Hughesy has some game.”
“Will someone please tell me what you all are talking about?”
Curtis finally looked at her, smiling, “You’re dating, Luke? The Luke who for the life of him cannot talk to a girl even if it would save his life?”
“Yeah, he was like that when I met him. I think that’s just a Hughes thing though.” She shrugged, risking a glance up at Jack who whined, “Hey.”
“Well you all are wrong, Luke has the most game out of all of them.”
“There’s no way in hell.”
“Oh trust me, when Luke wants to,” her eyes went wide with amusement, “He can.”
They all cringed a little, “I do not want to know.” She grinned, taking a sip of her water. 
Without even a glance at her phone, y/n was able to make it through the whole night of meeting her boyfriend’s phone. They were all super nice to her and Jack had been a great support whenever she had gotten nervous or uncomfortable with a topic of conversation. By the time the two of them had left, Luke had texted and called her over and over again. 
Getting back into his car, y/n looked at her phone and frowned when she saw the notifications, “What’s wrong?”
She looked at Jack, “I don’t know, Luke called me like ten times.”
“Ten? We were only there for a couple of hours, maybe three.”
“Yeah, I know. Let me call him back.
Jack had only heard her side of the conversation, “Hi Lukey.” “What’s wrong?” “I’m sorry.” “Yeah.” “We’ll be home soon. “I love you.”
He turned the car on and backed out of his parking spot, starting to drive towards the exit, “What was that about?”
“He threw up and was hoping I could come home.” She groaned in frustration, “I should’ve looked at my phone, I told him I would’ve made you drive me home if he needed anything.”
“Hey, it’s okay. He’s 21, he can handle himself.”
“Yeah, I know. I just feel horrible.” He frowned at her, this time no trace of playfulness hidden in it or his eyes.
“If you’re thinking you’re a bad girlfriend, you shouldn’t be. If anything I’m a bad brother, I took my little brother’s girlfriend away from him when he was sick just to go to an event because I was too nervous to go alone.”
She shook her head, “He adores you, trust me. He won’t be mad at you.”
“I don’t know, Luke has the ability to hold a grudge for a long time.”
“Trust me, I know. But you’re not a horrible brother.”
“And you’re not a horrible girlfriend.”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ quinn, jack, and the night on the town
Jack had been begging Quinn to go out with him since he woke up that morning, complaining he needed some new clothes for whatever reason, Quinn hadn’t been bothered to listen to him. It was one thing Quinn detested the most, shopping with Jack. He could be out for hours and still be in the same two stores that they started in. 
Y/n walked out of Luke’s room, followed by him on his phone. They talked quietly, y/n watching as Luke threw on his shoes, “I’ll see you later.”
“Yeah, drive safe.” Luke kissed her head, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Wait wait wait, where are you going?” Luke eyed his older brother carefully, “With my friends, why?”
“No, I don’t care where you’re going.” Jack groaned, “Where’s y/n going?”
“Home, why?”
Luke stood slightly in front of her, crossing his arms over his chest as Jack looked back at Quinn, “If y/n goes with, will you?”
Quinn raised an eyebrow but nodded slowly, “Yeah.”
“Where am I going?”
“Shopping!”
She looked at her boyfriend and then at his brothers before nodding, “Okay. Only if you buy me food.”
“Deal.” Jack grinned at her and it was Luke’s turn to groan, “You’re hanging out with more than you hang out with me.”
“Tough shit, Lukey boy.”
Quinn, Jack, and y/n drove to the mall, all talking about random things. When they got there, Jack led them to the store he wanted to go to and Quinn looked at her, “Good luck.”
“Why?”
“We once spent three hours in one store. Three.”
She let out a low whistle, “Longer than me. Well let’s hope it doesn’t last that long, maybe I could help?”
“Jack is the pickiest person ever so no offense, but I highly doubt you would make a-”
“Hey, Jack, do you like this?” Y/n pulled out a shirt from one of the racks and Jack immediately nodded when he saw it, “Yeah, actually.”
“Magic.”
They spent the next thirty minutes shopping for things, y/n’s picks hitting every time. Quinn had never been so relieved to go shopping with someone who helped Jack. They were able to get in and out within an hour and headed to two more stores afterward. When they got back to the car, she sighed and leaned against the seat, “You owe me food.”
“You deserve food, I’ve never been able to get Jack to shop that quickly.”
“What can I say? I have a talent.”
When they sat down at the restaurant, she immediately started a conversation, one she had been waiting to start forever, “So I need the scoop on Luke. All the embarrassing stuff. Like now.”
“Okay?”
“It’s important. When he met my brother for the first time, he told them about the time I got locked in a bathroom.”
“You got locked in a bathroom?” Jack snorted, taking a drink.
“Shut up. He locked me in there, it’s not like I did it myself. But that is completely beside the point, I need everything you have on Luke, right now.”
And so they did, they spent an hour and a half going back and forth sharing the funniest and most embarrassing stories they could remember about their brother. Y/n had laughed and laughed at each new story, making a point to remember them so she could use them against her boyfriend later. If her brother could tell him stories, why couldn’t his brothers tell her stories?
However, her feeling of winning slowly faded away as Jack and Quinn asked for stories about her childhood, “No.”
“Oh come on, we just spent however long embarrassing Luke for you, the least you could do is tell us one story about your childhood.”
She blinked at them before nodding, “Fine. Let me think.”
It was hard coming up with stories from her childhood, there weren’t many that stuck out to her. The only one she could really think of was the time her brother locked her in the bathroom which they had already discussed. But eventually, she sighed, “I was a very gullible child. So I allowed my brother to convince me to go down a slide on a chair.”
“You what?”
“Yeah, I broke my arm.” She shrugged, taking a bite of the few remaining fires she had on her plate. Jack and Quinn shook their heads, not believing what she had said. 
“I’m sorry, there is no way you let him convince you to do that.”
“I told you, I was a very gullible kid. You barely had to do anything to convince me. He also convinced me that he was born in Canada, which is very stupid looking back on it.”
By the time they left all three of them felt satisfied with the stories they had told, and when they got back home, Jack and Quinn shared a shit-eating grin at their younger brother before going to their rooms. 
“What was that about?”
“Let’s just say, I have a lot on you now so you can’t use the bathroom story anymore.”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
⟹ y/n and the family fight
It was never often that her family fought, at least this bad. She had been home for the summer and told them that she was going to go out with some friends due to them being in town for a couple of days. She assumed that they remembered and left after saying a brief goodbye to them, getting in her car, and driving to where she was going to meet her friends.
However, when she got back home, her parents were furious and her brother was standing off to the side, trying not to interfere with what was about to happen. She stood in front of them nervously, waiting for them to say something but quickly realized that they weren’t going to be the first ones to speak, “Hi.”
“You leave for four hours without telling us you’re leaving and all you have to say for yourself is ‘hi’?”
She mentally groaned in frustration, knowing that this was going to happen. Her brother couldn’t help but snicker and as soon as their parents heard it, he was sent to his room. She sat down after her parents instructed her to and listened to thirty minutes of her parents ‘talking loudly’ at her, accusing her of things she didn’t even do. 
Once they were done, they allowed her to go up to her room where she let silent tears fall. She would’ve been able to get over it, hell she was 21 and she was still getting yelled at by her parents for the most idiotic things. She sat in her bed, staring at the wall as she listened to the white noise around her. She was startled once she heard her parents' voices again, but this time they were yelling at each other. 
That was when she realized that no matter how old you get, listening to your parents fight with each other never gets easier. After twenty minutes of fighting, she grabbed her keys and walked downstairs, hesitantly standing at the bottom of the steps. Her mom noticed her first, her face softening no longer mad at her, “Yes honey?”
“Can I go over to Luke’s house?” She had never heard her voice so quiet and vulnerable before, at least not in a long time. 
Her mom sighed and spared a glance at her husband before nodding and smiling weakly, “Yeah, just text us once you’re on your way home, okay?”
Y/n nodded and quickly ran out of her house, resting her back against her front door. She could hear the fighting resume and she wasted no time in getting in her car and driving away, but this time to Luke’s house. 
She parked on the side of the road, walking slowly up to the house. She really should’ve thought this plan through before she did it. She was nervous about whether or not she should’ve texted him or if he was home or not. She reached the front steps and realized it was too late to turn back once her fist hit the wood of their door. 
Jack opened the door with his usual boyish grin, but it turned down to a frown once he realized the expression on her face, “Y/n?”
“Hey, um… Is Luke here?” He shook his head softly, “He went out with some of his friends about an hour ago. Did you need something?”
She bit her lip, “Uh, no. It’s okay actually. I’ll just text him to tell me when he gets home. Thanks though, Jack. I’ll see you later.” 
She walked back down the steps and was halfway to her car when she heard her voice being called, “Y/n?”
“Yeah?”
“Come inside.” Locking eyes with him, she nodded and walked back to the house and inside, taking her shoes off. 
He led her to the living room where he and Quinn had been sitting with a bucket of popcorn and a random movie on. Quinn smiled up at her and quickly blinked away the confusion in his eyes as he heard her voice, “Hi.”
He scooted over, allowing her to sit on the couch in between the two of them, “I’m sorry for coming over unexpectedly. I was just hoping Luke would be here.”
“It’s okay, you want to tell us what’s going on?” 
She looked between them hesitantly before speaking, “It’s really nothing, I’m just overreacting probably.”
“Trust me, I’m probably the most over-dramatic person on this planet. And I can tell by the look on your face that whatever has you like this is probably warranted.”
“I got yelled at.” The two furrowed their eyebrows and she sighed, “I know, I’m 21 and I’m crying because I got yelled at. That’s not the reason I’m like this though. Well partly.”
The two nodded, urging her to continue, “After they yelled at me they started fighting with each other, and I- I finally realized that as I get older, I think their fighting just hurts worse.”
She couldn’t help but sob at the realization, curling into a ball on the couch. Quinn and Jack shared a look before Quinn wrapped her into a hug, his older brother instincts kicking in. Hearing someone who was like his little sister cry hurt more than he could ever imagine and he just wanted to make her feel better. Jack felt the same and ran to grab one of Luke’s sweatshirts and some ice cream from the freezer, coincidentally her favorite flavor. 
As he reapproached the couch, y/n had slightly uncurled herself from Quinn’s grasp and was wiping her tears off with her hand a little harshly. She chuckled dryly, “This is so embarrassing.”
“No, it’s not, I’ve had fans cry in front of me before.” Quinn smacked him on the back of his hand from behind her causing her to giggle a little. 
The two smiled and Jack sat down next to her handing her her boyfriend’s sweatshirt, “I figured this would probably help.”
“Thank you, Jack.” She quickly threw the hoodie on, snuggling slightly into the fabric. 
He then handed her the bowl of ice cream, “I also found this in the freezer. I think Luke bought it just in case you came over one day.”
She smiled down at it, noticing the ice cream was her favorite, “He sure does know how to make me smile even when he’s not here.”
They sat in silence before she looked between the two, “Thank you, guys.”
“Of course, we’ll be here if you ever need us. What are big brothers for.”
“We’re not even related.” She laughed and sniffled, wiping her tears still. 
They shrugged, “We know, but like I said the night of that event we went to, it’ll happen eventually.”
Quinn handed her the remote, allowing her to scroll through the channels or go onto Disney or Netflix. She settled on one of her favorite movies to watch with Luke and leaned back on the couch. When she was done with the ice cream, she stood to put it up in the sink but Jack grabbed it from her grasp and placed it on the table, “We’ll do it later.”
She nodded softly, curling up in the blanket that rested on her lap. Quinn eyed her carefully, “Tired?”
“Just a little.”
“You can sleep if you want to, we’ll wake you up when Luke gets back.”
“Okay.” And within minutes, she was asleep. Her head fell to the side landing on Quinn’s shoulder who just smiled down at her. 
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•
The two got home and without even waiting for Jack, y/n ran upstairs to their apartment as quickly as she could, immediately going into Luke’s room. It was dark and she could barely see the outline of Luke’s body in the bed. She walked over quietly, kicking her heels off delicately. She kneeled on the bed, reaching out to card through his curls, “Lukey.”
She received no response and murmured his name once more. This time he stirred a little, groaning and protesting at being woken up, “I’m sorry baby. We’re home.”
He blinked his eyes open and looked up at her, smiling softly, “Hi.”
“Hi, baby. How are you feeling?”
He shook his head and untangled one of his arms to wrap around her waist. He pulled her close to him, burying his head into her stomach as she continued to kneel on the bed. She sat there for a few moments, running her hand through his hair. Her dress started to become tight and uncomfortable and she whispered, “Can I go change, Luke? I’ll be right back, I promise.”
He shook his head and only tightened his hold on her as much as he could, “Stay.”
“I will after I go change. This dress is a little too uncomfortable to sleep in.”
She smiled when he loosened his grip and got off the bed to change as quickly as possible. She came back with a damp washcloth and sat down on the bed, letting Luke pull her back to him. He curled up into a ball in front of her, his head resting in her lap. She was thankful that she threw on one of his sweatshirts because she knew she wouldn’t be able to pull up the blankets all night with him in her lap. 
She ran the washcloth over his forehead, ignoring his slight moans of protest. She leaned over the bed to make sure there was a bucket on the side and she sighed in relief when there was one. Despite Luke wearing two sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants, he was shivering and only curled up into her more. She frowned again, pulling the washcloth away, “Alright, Lukey. We gotta take these sweatshirts off, you’re burning up.”
“No.” He protested, “‘m cold.”
“I know baby, I do. But you’re not going to get better if we don’t get your temperature down.” He sighed but knew she was right, so he allowed her to pull both of his sweatshirts over his head before curling back into her.
“Alright, I’ll be here, you can go to sleep now.”
“Promise you aren’t leaving?”
“I promise, sweetheart.”
“Okay.” 
It took him a matter of seconds to go back to sleep and y/n sat there peacefully, staring at the wall lost in her thoughts. Jack opened the door and her gaze shifted over to where he was standing, “How’s he doing?” 
“Not good, I think his temperature has gotten worse. If it’s still bad tomorrow, we’re probably gonna have to take him to the doctor.”
He nodded, “You going to be okay?”
“My legs might go numb, but if he wants to sleep here, I’m not going to  say anything.”
❛ ━━・❪ ❁ ❫ ・━━ ❜
•❅ 《 𝘉𝘖𝘕𝘜𝘚 𝘚𝘊𝘌𝘕𝘌 》 ❅•
The door clicked open and Luke walked into the house, still trying to figure out if he just imagined y/n’s car outside their house. He took off his shoes and walked into the living room finding his brothers and his girlfriend sleeping on the couch. He raised an eyebrow and went to go to his bedroom but stopped when he heard his name. He looked back and saw Quinn standing up, “She came over about an hour or two ago.”
“Oh, I wish she would’ve texted me, I would’ve come home.”
“She got into a fight with her parents.” Luke’s eyes softened and his lips turned downwards, “Oh.”
“She was pretty torn up, we got her one of your hoodies and some ice cream and then she crashed. I’ll wake Jack up and you guys can have the couch.”
“Thank you.”
Quinn lightly shook Jack awake, who jumped in response. He was immediately shushed and his eyes followed his older brother’s finger to where Luke was standing. He nodded and got up, the two of them making their way to their respective bedrooms. The younger one sat down on the couch, running a hand through his girlfriend’s hair. Y/n stirred slightly and blinked her eyes open slowly. Her eyes focused on her boyfriend, shifting closer to him, “Hi.”
“Hey, sweetheart. I heard you got into a fight again?”
She nodded and closed her eyes as Luke ran his fingers through her hair. He frowned but knew that she wouldn’t want to talk about it much not only because she was asleep, but mainly because he knew she would lose it and be embarrassed even more than she had been earlier. He let her sleep in her lap and y/n was grateful for it. 
They never needed to share any words when something was wrong, they just knew what it was or when it happened and were there for each other. Whether it was Luke when he was sick or y/n when she got into a fight with her family, the two were by each other’s side as soon as they needed to be. And that’s what made them fit together.
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⬂ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗝𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲𝘆 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂
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eyeheartboobiez · 9 months
Text
𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲!𝐛𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐜𝐬
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-> warnings: smut mention
-> a/n: are you able to pick up other people’s tabs at a bar? what even is a tab? idk. here are some unnecessarily long bruce hcs that i wrote at 1am
(edit): fun fact, this was the first set of sugar daddy!bruce hcs i wrote but ended up “scrapping” bcs i didn’t like the direction it was going in👨🏿‍🦯
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• honestly, you don't know how either of you ended up in this situation
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The drink in your hands was starting to sweat.
One of your professors had given you the chance to attend a charity event of one of his more high society friends. Of course, while you were beyond grateful, you can easily say you'd much rather be at home binging your favorite series.
So here you were, sipping on your fourth glass of the evening without a single clue how you were gonna pay for them all. Your social battery was beyond drained as you were sitting by yourself at the bar, just about ready to call it a night.
All the other socialites in the room, however, seemed to be having a blast talking about politics or stocks or whatever it was that rich people talk about. Well, all except for one.
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• on one hand hand there was you, a broke college student just looking for someone to pay for her drinks
• on the other, there was the rich billionaire who was searching for someone worthy enough of his time
• bruce had noticed you sitting alone at the bar, lightly sipping on an amethyst martini:
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He takes the night off from his batman duties, and this is how he decides to spend it?
Bruce couldn't wrap his head around it either. Alfred was actually the one who talked him into going to this party. With him being one of the top donors, he was basically obligated to attend at this point.
While all the other party goers were standing around talking amongst each other, the billionaire found himself off in the corner, eyes sweeping the room to find all its nearest exits. In the midst off his mental scan though, he saw you.
The dress you wore was simple, yet it somehow made you glow against the warm lighting. Despite all the commotion in the room, your presence alone practically drew him in like a moth to a flame.
If Bruce was gonna be here all night, he might as well make things interesting, right?
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• you hadn't noticed him approaching until the chair next to you was being pulled out
• you were hesitant to open up to him at first
• because why in the hell was one of the richest men in gotham talking to you of all people
• but after a while, the two of you practically sprung into conversation, talking about almost anything and everything.
• after talking for what felt like hours he asks you:
"Would you perhaps like to continue this conversation back at my place?"
• with the way his index finger was gently caressing your hand, you just knew that if you left with this man, you both would be doing anything but talking
• while you usually weren't one to sleep with strangers, one night of some fun couldn’t hurt, right?
• plus you still needed to get these drinks paid for
"Only if you offer to pick up my tab."
• one thing led to another and you found yourself lying in one of the biggest beds of your life, getting fucked by one of the richest men in the world
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• you and bruce ended up spending a very long night together. by the end of it, you both were practically comatose from it all
• the next morning, you woke up fully prepared to sign some sort of NDA and head on home
• or at least you were. until you felt the hot trail of kisses leading down from your neck
"Last night was incredible," The billionaire grumbled, the low murmur of his morning voice making butterflies appear in your stomach. Open-mouthed kisses continued to trail down the valley of your breasts, "I don't suppose you wanna do that again sometime, hm?"
• you almost had to pinch yourself to make sure you weren't still dreaming
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• it was over breakfast that you both went over some of the necessary details neither of you seemed to bring up the night before
• you told him things about yourself like your age and how you typically didn't go home with strangers. you also ended up confessing how you were only at the same event as him because one of your professors gave you an invitation
• which then led to him asking what your major was
• …which led him to ask what university you attended
• ….which then led to him offering to pay off your college expenses
• like hold on. pause for a second.
• did he fr just offer to pay your whole tuition?
• was the pussy that good???
• before you could think too much about it, bruce made sure to let you know that this would be a small dip into a very big bucket for him
• all he asked for in return was to spend another night with you
• of course he didn't expect you to come to a decision right away, so after exchanging numbers, he drove you home to think it over
• to be honest though, it didn't take you very long to consider things
• i mean you were practically swimming in student loans over here
• immediately after you called to give him a confirmation, your phone pinged with a notification
bruce w. sent over $860.
‘buy something nice for yourself and meet me tomorrow at seven. don’t worry about transportation, i’ll arrange a car for you.’
• and after that the rest was history
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• being bruce’s sugar baby was honestly one of the best decisions you’ve ever made
• after your second night with him was when he wanted to make things official between you two
• “official” pretty much meant that he would volunteer to be your personal bank as long as you continued to keep him company
• even though it all sounded great, you weren’t stupid.
• if you were to really go through with this you would need it written on paper. you wanted this shit documented
• so that’s exactly what he did
• by the end of the day, bruce had his lawyers make a drafted copy of the terms and conditions your so called “relationship” would entail (a draft that you were free to make changes to, of course)
• now that everything had been officially set in stone, most days you found yourself either attending charity events or maxing out his company credit card
• now if only bruce could tell you about a certain night job of his…
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-> a/n: when i tell you these have been in my drafts for a MINUTE😭 i think imma make a fic about how their relationship develops but first i wanna write the next part to my jason smau series
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neckromantics · 10 months
Text
Love Bites.
Astarion Ancunín-
He could just eat. you. right. up.
SFW. (Mostly)
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(Go reblog this gif bc i said please and we like to support creators ily)
Okay, it's not a revolutionary idea or anything, but Astarion is SUCH a biter.
Like, yeah, duh, it kind of comes with the territory of him being a vampire and everything, BUT he's also just.... like that.
Once he begins to grow more comfortable with you and with showing affection in his own ways, it becomes pretty apparent. Secretly, you wonder to yourself if it was something he did before his turning as well, because it's such a common occurrence. You're convinced you could locate the cure for vampirism tomorrow and you'd still find yourself sporting teeth marks all the same.
The first time it happens, you're on a rant.
You’d been out all day on your own, doing some trading around the nearest town while the rest of the gang took a (very rare) day of rest. They could hear your frustrated stomping long before they could see you, but you didn’t even spare them a glance- just flung your dirty boots off to the side before you flung yourself into your vampiric lover's tent with reckless abandon.
He’s busy repairing a seam on one of his shirts-- a couple of pins held between his pursed lips as he focuses on getting the stitches just right-- when you fall down cross-legged onto one of the cushions nearest him, not giving so much as a hello before you start to go on and on about what absolute bullshit your day had been.
Imagine yourself, mad as shit, steam practically coming out of your ears as you recall the way some imbecile in Rivington shorted you a large portion of gold, which resulted in you becoming so distracted that some other imbecile swooped in and stole your backpack of priceless scrolls right off your person. The lengths of which you had to go to get it all back were absolutely ridiculous. Mind numbing, even.
(The next time something like this happens to you when you're alone, magic-user or not, you are going to use the last of your brain cells to summon the power of the weave, and you're going to use it to blow yourself up. Gale-style.)
You’re about to swear that you’re never leaving camp without him again when you finally glance his way, and you aren't expecting to catch him looking right at you.
Carmine eyes examine you with such fondness– such adoration– that you almost forget what you’re angry about when they meet your own. It knocks the wind from your lungs. Shuts you up, that’s for sure.
It’s only then that you realize you haven’t even said hello to him. Gods, you didn’t even ask if you could come in. You just inserted yourself into his space like it was your own and made a fool of yourself.
Oddly enough, he doesn't seem to mind.
At some point in your story-telling, he’d finished his little project and settled in to listen, clearly amused at just how angry you are as you gesture about with bloodied hands, childish insults flying past your lips with such earnestness that he has to bite back a laugh. You truly are so adorable when you’re angry, so much so that he doesn’t know what to do with himself other than…. well.
Your breath gets caught in your throat as he leans in close, and before you can question him he’s digging his teeth into your clothed shoulder with such force that you’re amazed he doesn’t break the skin.
Something about the way his nose scrunches up when he does it makes your heart do disgusting, lovesick cartwheels in your chest.
The next time you're doing laundry, you find the two, twin sized holes that his fangs left behind in your tunic, and it makes you smile like an idiot for the next hour.
You get used to being on the receiving end of his affectionate bites pretty quickly. It's honestly become one of your (many) favorite things about him.
He doesn't really do it in front of other people, which is understandable. But, he does click his teeth at you when you're being especially, delectably sweet to him. Just a click click of bared fangs as a warning so you know to stop being so damn nice to him all of the time.
As if.
How you reach up to swipe away some blood from his face when no one is looking, and he pulls one of the tips of your fingers into his mouth for a little appreciative nibble.
The way he smirks at you when you pull your hand away with a small huff of a laugh, your own face a little warmer beneath the pad of his thumb as he returns the favor.
When you're alone in his tent late at night, and he tells a joke that has you laughing so hard your face hurts. He'll press his teeth to the apple of your cheek, flushed and rounded by how hard you're grinning.
He could just eat. you. right. up.
The abuse your bottom lip receives when you’re sharing a particularly passionate kiss. How the point of a fang sometimes nicks the plush skin if he’s not careful enough. The happy little noise he makes when the taste of your blood hits his tongue leaves you far too breathless to even consider complaining.
Sometimes, it's just how he greets you.
You'll literally be sitting down, doing absolutely nothing but minding your own business, and he'll come over and chomp down on whatever part of you he can reach like he's kissing you hello.
Likes hearing the way your heart-rate picks up whenever he comes up from behind while you’re especially distracted. He gets you by the waist, pulls you off balance to get a better angle and bites down on your neck in the most theatric, Dracula-esque fashion.
Complete with a rabid growl that tickles your skin and has you shaking with laughter.
He's learned not to startle you too much, though. After all, given everything that's happened, you're more of a "stab first, wonder who it is later" type of person, and he'd rather not get shivved with whatever sharp object is nearest you at the time.
He soothes whatever small pain he might have caused in his dramatics with a soft kiss. A dozen or so more, wet and wanting, trailing from beneath your ear to the place where your pulse pounds away for him. That lovely pulse of yours, growing ever faster with each lingering press of his mouth.
And if you shiver and oh-so casually bring up how you'll let him feed from you tonight if he'd like? That's your own business.
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adaelines · 1 year
Text
afab but gender neutral reader, horny as fuck smut, ada and leon competing for your attention! theyre both in love with you and wanna prove that you should be theirs.. wrote this in one night bc i wanna fuck both of them so bad lmao
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To others, working with two people with as much renown as Ada and Leon might seem lucky. Missions with Leon always go easy, he's known for his strength and capability. A mission with Leon by your side is always a good mission, no matter the danger, you know he's there to protect you. Ada is the same, the few that know her naming her deadly, a woman who isn't afraid to do anything she needs to get what she wants. You know that all too well, just how stubborn she can be when she truly wants something.
You've known Leon longer, worked with him enough times to even call him a friend, but you can't deny the immediate spark you feel everytime Ada 'intrudes' on your missions, as Leon puts it. He always seems so bitter towards her, and anytime you're involved, it seems to turn almost malicious. Leon would never hurt her unless provoked to, you know that, but the way his eyes turn dark and he stands between you, almost shielding you from her, you can't help but feel like there's something more going on. 
What you don't know, don't see, is the way they both rush to be the one by your side, the one to help you up if an enemy downs you, the one to defend you. They both want you to see them as someone you can trust, someone you can rely on with anything. 
Leon is more gentle, forward. A soft smile that's reserved for only you and firm touches, a hand on your back whilst he guides you, always stood between you and anything he sees as dangerous, even the woman he currently sees himself at war with. Like a guard dog, willing to do anything if it means keeping you safe, he's always the one backing you up in any conflict and watching.
Ada, however, is more discreet. She protects you just as much, watches and never lets you come into danger that's avoidable, never lets anyone else get in the way of your mission. Defeating enemies before they can see you, before you can see them, locking doors if she thinks what's behind it is too dangerous for you. She knows you can take care of yourself, that you're strong, but she likes knowing you're safe, that she helped in keeping you safe.
Between them, you were very rarely in danger. Even when you did end up fighting someone, usually with no other choice, you saw the way Leon's eyes darkened, like a cornered, feral dog. He's dangerous, and he proves it when you're involved. Ada is the same. You don't get to see her fight as much, you're not partners with her like you are Leon, but there was a time you and her ended up together alone, and you saw just how strong she was, how far she was willing to go for you.
The unfounded, in your opinion, rivalry is how you ended up where you were, practically sitting on Leon's lap as you leant back against him, Ada knelt between your legs with her arms wrapped under your thighs, her grip firm. You were meant to be focused on a mission, but a situation that left you a little too close to danger for their liking ended up with them needing to punish you, as they put it. 
Your shirt was bunched above your chest, shoved up by Leon's hands, currently groping your chest harshly, pinching your nipples and holding the fat of your chest tight. His grip was so rough it left you whining, head thrown back against his shoulder, which gave him the perfect angle to kiss along your jaw, your neck. His affection made Ada hum against your cunt, a noise that told you she was less than pleased. Her nose was buried in the wiry hair, mouth altering between your clit and hole. 
Ada's gaze was overwhelming, her eyes full of fire and utter need. From her place between your thighs, she could see everything Leon was doing to you, and it only caused her to work harder. She wanted to be the one to make you feel good, it was going to be her name you moaned, not some dumb puppy's who didn't know how to treat you properly. 
"C'mon, won't you be good for me, sweet thing?" Ada's voice was sultry, and when you opened your eyes to look to at her, you couldn't help the moan you let out. Her touch, her words, the utter love and affection in her eyes… It was almost too much, and if it wasn't for Leon's sharp pinch of your nipples, you could have gotten lost in her. 
"For you? As if," Leon's voice was gruff in return, teeth gently resting on your pulse, "You still think too much of yourself, it's not going to be you they're good for." 
The whine you let out in response was loud, one hand coming up to tangle in Ada's hair, the other placed on Leon's forearm. Your grip on both of them was tight, tight enough that you knew it would hurt, but you were too distracted, too out of it to even notice, not that they complained about your nails digging into them. 
In response, Leon bit down on your neck, harsh enough to hurt, to leave a mark of his teeth that'll last a while, a reminder of who left it there and the position you were currently in. Ada simply chuckled, a low noise that vibrated against you, and flattened her tongue to lick from your hole up to your clit. She may have been on her knees before you, but she was completely in control over you, owned you, as she would put it. 
Between them like this, the overwhelming attention from both of them, it was so much. You wanted to close your eyes, hide away from them, but you couldn't bring yourself to look away. Leon's large hands on your chest, his mouth on your neck and shoulders, all while Ada ate you out like a woman starved, like she was lost in a desert and you were the only respite.
"C'mon, stop looking at her," Leon's voice was low in your ear, quiet enough that Ada wouldn't hear, "You're mine, right? I own you and this cunt. No one could ever make you feel as good as i can. Prove it." 
"C-an't! 's too much…!" 
Your voice was shaky, an octave higher than usual thanks to the attention you were receiving.
"It's okay, sweetheart, moan my name and I'll stuff you full, you just need my cock, huh? Such a sweet thing, I'll ruin you.."
Ada let out a low hum against your clit, bringing one hand from your thigh to gently press against your hole. Her gaze went to Leon, almost glaring and full of malice, before returning to you, returning to the loving, affectionate focus for you. She couldn't hear Leon, but she could tell he was trying to get your attention away from her, away from her touch and tongue against you. 
Just as Leon moved in to kiss you, Ada pushed her fingers inside of you, harsh and quick enough for you to let out a loud whine and jolt. She quickly cooed an apology, voice almost mocking.
"Aw, I'm sorry, love. Was that too much? Just can't help myself, it's not my fault you're just too cute… I just want to make you feel good, make you all mine…"
Leon didn't react well to that, not by the tight pinch he gave your nipple, the low noise he made against your neck was almost a growl. Calling him possessive would be an understatement, covering you in hickies and bruises that marked you as his and his, even with the woman between your thighs. To him, she wasn't there, she wasn't the one making you feel good, he was, and that's all he cared about. 
Even as you got closer to release, as your pleasure climbed and all you could focus on was humping against Ada's face, holding Leon's arm as tight as you could, you could feel the competition between them, feel that they each wanted to prove to you just who could make you feel best.
Leon's lips were right against your ear, whispering how good you were being for him, even looking so slutty you were so gorgeous, won't you be mine? I'll take care of you, make you feel good, you'll never have to raise a finger again. I'll do anything for you, y'know? all you have to do is cum for me, only for me, you'll be so happy together… be a good whore and cum. I'll fuck you hard, fast, rough, anything you want. You'll be so dumb off of my cock you won't even be able to think about anything else, only how deep inside of you I can reach.
His words, mixed with Ada's attention to your clit, her fingers pressing into you harshly, filling you as much as she could, promises of more, of what she can do for you, to you, quickly finished your off, your back arching against Leon's chest, both hands gripping tightly, one still in Ada's hair, the other still on Leon's arm. Both of them let out their own noises as you came. Leon a quiet groan, eyes closing as he gently pressed kisses against your jaw, whilst Ada moaned against you, eyes closed tight as she drank everything you offered, holding you as close to her face as she could, even when you tried to jolt away in overstimulation.
Ada pulled away, the grim on her face proud, still full of desire.
"What a good little thing for me, you taste so delicious too…"
"Excuse me? For you? No, that was all for me…"
They weren't done with you, with their competition for your affection. It was going to be a very long night.
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squoxle · 4 months
Note
Hi ! Could you write something where like y/n is sucking or playing with heeseungs dick & she just got her fresh nails done and they’re pretty and EVERHTING & she poses with heeseungs dick and adds a bow …
(Sorry for taking so long to respond to your request)
French Tip ~ L. HS
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pairing: sugar-daddy!bf!heeseung x babygirl!gf!reader| wc: 1.3k | plot: after getting your nails done, you're excited to show Heeseung your fresh, new set. | cw: 🔞MDNI!! blow job, boob job, hand job, basically touching his dick in every way possible and snapping a few pictures lol bc why tf not (there're also a few cute moments hehe)
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Having your boyfriend pay for your nails was nothing out of the ordinary to you. He did this almost every week, or whenever else he thought they should be done.
Sometimes you would ask for his input, but today was not one of those days. You wanted to surprise him with a fresh, natural-looking set.
French Tips...
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"When you finish getting your nails done, send me a pic. I wanna see what they look like," he said before kissing you on the cheek. You could still smell the scent of coffee from this morning in the air.
That alone was addicting enough, but when the scent of his Channel cologne was mixed in only one thing was on your mind. And that was getting back in bed with him. Or at least pleasing him while he tells you how pretty you look.
"Okay," you smiled softly as you looked into his sweet doe eyes. You pulled the gold chain of your black clutch bag over your shoulder as you headed out the door.
You would've loved for him to take you to your nail appointment today, but he had some business to take care of at home. To be specific, he had a very important meeting over Zoom with a few of his colleagues concerning a very important business deal, which he made crystal clear to you the day before.
Before heading to your appointment, you stopped to place an order for some desserts. Heeseung planned to have a business party next week and he left you in charge of the food.
"Why do you want me to do it? Can't you just hire someone else to take care of this," you asked, not because you had a problem with it, more so for the reason that you were honestly curious.
"Well, you have good taste," he smiled.
"Mhm, sure I do."
"Well, that and you taste good," he smirked, pulling you close to flick his tongue across your lips.
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You took a sip from your water bottle as you walked into the beauty salon. "Good morning, Dear. Are you here for your 9 o'clock appointment?" Mrs. Yanez asked from behind the desk.
"Yes, ma'am," you smiled.
"Alright, I'm just gonna log you in," she said as she clacked away at her keyboard. "Do you know what you want to do today?"
"Yes, I'll need a full, fresh set along with a mani-pedi."
"Did you want a massage as well?"
"No, that's alright."
"You sure, it's 30 percent off today. Plus you've accumulated a total of 1500 pretty points with us."
"Hmm, well I'll definitely use those points another day," you smiled. "And as much as I would love a discounted massage, I kinda wanna get back home a little early today."
"Ooh, Mr. Lee must be home today," she teased.
"Yes, he is," you chuckled.
"Well, then I won't keep you waiting any longer," she smiled before pushing a small black button. She often reminded you of the tía-sobrina relationship you never had. You could talk to her about anything, and trust me...she wanted to hear it.
"Right this way, Miss," a masked employee nodded as you followed her to the back. You giggled as Mrs. Yanez playfully waved to you with a smirk on her face.
You sat down in a soft leather chair as you explained what look you were going for today. "I would like a natural-looking set. Almost like French tips, but with natural shades."
"So no white tip?"
"Well white like the color of my natural nails," you explained pointing to the whites of your nails.
"Okay, perfect. I can do that for you. Gloss or not gloss?"
"Gloss," you smiled, as the lady turned around to pick from the colors on her shelf. A nude color, an off-white color, and a pale yellow--which she mixed with the white to match the natural color of your nails.
Having a custom color mixed made your nails feel pretty unique. Plus, this was a style you never tried before, so you were excited to see how they'd come out.
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After about 45 minutes you were ready to go. Two people ended up working on you which sped up the process.
"Tell Heeseung I said hello," Mrs. Yanez smiled as you walked out.
"I will," you chuckled as she waved to you.
You climbed into your car before heading over to a nearby boba shop to pick up some drinks. Matcha for you and brown sugar for him. You liked extra boba and he liked extra syrup. These were little details you could never forget.
*Click* you snapped a shot of you holding the brown sugar boba because it looked better with your nails, even though it was for Heeseung.
Within seconds he opened the message and hearted the pic you sent. "They look nice, babe," he texted. You were surprised he even said that much.
"Maybe his meeting hasn't started yet. Or maybe they canceled it," you thought to yourself. Either way, you couldn't wait to get back home.
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"Heeseung?" you called out as you stepped out of your shoes. Your car keys, clutch bag, and phone balanced between your fingers as you carried both of the drinks over to the counter. You had drunk about a fourth of your by the time you made it home.
You placed yours on the counter as you walked into his home office.
You knocked softly as you opened the door. Heeseung didn’t say a single word, but the look on his face told you everything. “I’m a little busy right now, babe. You can come back later, okay.”
You paused in both shock and embarrassment for a moment before a cheeky smirk appeared on your face. You closed the door behind you before walking over to his desk.
He was trying his best not to look at you, but you could tell he wanted to.
You placed his drink on the desk next to him before crawling under the desk. As professional as Heeseung tried to be at times, he loved wearing his sweat pants and you liked them too.
They were comfortable and made pulling his dick out so much easier.
You fiddled around with his drawstring causing him to wiggle a bit from your touch before you managed to get his dick out. You felt him harden between your palms as you stroked him up and down. That's when an idea popped into your head.
You pulled your phone out and snapped a shot of his tip against your tongue. You placed your phone down beside you as you began to suck him off. You felt him lean forward slightly, trying his best to contain his excitement.
You kissed the head of his dick to give him a chance to readjust himself. You could hear the voices of his colleagues coming from his computer as you continued to suck him off. You pulled back to unbutton your blouse using your tits to take the place of your hands as you jerked him off.
*Click* you took another pic of his dick nestled in between your tits.
You traced your tongue up the length of his shaft before taking it back in your mouth. It wasn't long before you heard him getting ready to end the call.
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You looked up at him from under the desk. "Couldn't wait until after my meeting," he asked with a smirk.
You shook your head no as you continued to bob your head on his cock.
"Did you at least enjoy yourself?"
"Hmm...almost. I still feel like I'm missing a little something."
"And what would that be?" he asked cheekily, though he was fully aware of what you wanted...especially after you opened your mouth to tap his tip on your tongue.
He grabbed your head, shoving it down as he pumped himself into your mouth. Just as he was getting ready to cum he pulled your head back to coat your tongue.
*Click* He took a photo of your sitting between his legs with his cum all over your tongue and a dazed look on your face.
He paused to tap away at his phone before sending a pic of you with a bow edited on your head looking completely cum drunk.
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❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!
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❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmo
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incognit0slut · 1 year
Text
SILENT PLEA
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Part 1 of kinktober | main masterlist
Being a few feet away from your friends wasn’t going to stop you from seeking pleasure with your professor.
softdom!spencer x fem reader; Thigh-riding, teasing, semi-public, praise, age gap, power imbalance with teacher/student dynamic
words: 2,932
a/n: this one is dedicated to those who just wants to sit on his lap while being praised 🖤 (also i has to repost this bcs of some error it was so weird)
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IT WAS HIS EYES. The rich, earthy tones of his irises with subtle flecks of amber and gold held a comforting warmth that seemed to radiate within, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You always found yourself captivated every time his gaze fell on you. It felt as if he had a secret language written in those brown orbs, one that spoke volumes without uttering a single word.
Or it might've been his hands. You always knew he had nice, well-kept hands but the more you examined them, the more you noticed how enticing they truly were. The size of them always surprised you, as well as the length of his fingers, but it was the veins running along the backs of his hands that really made you dry at the mouth.
Maybe it was the age difference. The mature lines on his face, those crinkle lines around his eyes whenever he smiled only adding an appeal to his appearance. And the way he carried himself with a sense of authority was definitely a factor, one that never failed to make you weak in the knees.
But perhaps it was just him. All of him. The way he stood at his tall height. The way he laughed at his own joke. The way he spoke in his lectures—the enthusiasm palpable in his voice as he explained the difference between a trigger and a stressor while mentioning he was going to put them in the finals, something he shouldn't have probably done.
It was everything about him. His unruly hair. His tailored suit. His charming smile.
And there was the way that he called you, addressing your first name in a room full of people, yet every time you were alone with him, you felt special. You were always his good girl.
"You're such a good girl for me, you know that, right?"
You knew, because every time you did as you were told, he gave you more. More than what you wanted, more than what you needed. He knew you inside and out, and as much as you hated to admit what you were doing these past couple of months was deemed inappropriate, you still couldn't help it. Everything about him made you crave more.
That was why you found yourself perched on his lap after class. It was wrong on so many levels. Not only was it unprofessional for a faculty member to be sexually involved with a student, it was also looked down upon to be in a relationship with someone almost twice your age. But temptation won over rational thoughts, and you had to admit, the professor you had a crush on ever since he introduced himself in front of the class, was really good at tempting you.
"Spence..." You sighed out, hips squirming along his lap. Each of your legs was on either side of his thigh, and you sat there, waiting for him to do something because you were desperate. How could you not when he had been eying you throughout this morning? The subtle glint of mischief wasn't lost on you when he spoke in front of you and your peers, and now that you were finally alone with him, you wanted his undivided attention.
Spencer's hands gripped your thighs as his eyes swept along your body. They momentarily paused on the low dip of your shirt, your cleavage visible for his own pleasure, before he glanced back up to your face.
"We don't have much time," he reminded, yet his hands were sliding up your skirt. And he was right, there wasn't enough time. Staying in his class after everyone had left wasn't exactly ideal, but it didn't stop you from locking the door before you practically climbed on top of him. You knew his next class was about to start in fifteen—no, thirteen minutes. You had already spent the two minutes waiting impatiently for him to touch you.
Now you couldn't leave this room without having a part of him. You needed him, every fiber in your body was screaming for him, and if you had to beg for him to comply with your needs, you would gladly do it in a heartbeat.
"Please." Your voice was barely a whisper, yet he still heard you loud and clear. "I-I need you."
Your breath hitched as his thumb stroked along the outline of your underwear and it took a lot of self-control for you not to whine pathetically. "Yeah? Tell me what you need then."
You paused, opting to choose the right words that wouldn't sound so vulgar because, with the way your body was reacting, you could only think of wild, explicit things. Your eyes settled on his face, sinking in the way he was watching you intensely, and your words abruptly stopped at the tip of your tongue.
"Go on, use your words," he urged. "Tell me what you want me to do."
You let out a trembling sigh. Everything about him was already consuming you, but the moment his hands danced along your sides, you knew you had to have more. Lust surged within you like a relentless tide, pulling you deeper into its intoxicating depths. It was a feverish, aching hunger that clawed at your insides, demanding satisfaction. The simple warmth radiating from his hands gripping your thighs just wasn't enough. So you braved yourself and leaned closer, resting your hands on his shoulders.
"I-I want you to touch me."
A ghost of a smile played on his lips. "But I am touching you."
You looked at him through your lashes, biting down your bottom lip. "More," you pleaded. "Please."
He hummed a reply, his hands slowly leaving your hips before they trailed under your blouse, traveling up the length of your body before stopping right on your breasts. Your senses danced with anticipation, every nerve alert and quivering, as his hands cupped each flesh, squeezing them ever so slightly as you felt a thumb brush across a nipple over the thin layer of your bra.
"Like this?" All you could manage was a tiny nod and his smile grew wider. You couldn't help but buckle your hips when he rolled your nipples between his fingers, playing with them in a seductive tease.
"What else do you want?" He gently asked. You noticed the way his voice began to descend, gradually sinking into a deeper tone, and your eyes instinctively fell on his mouth. His lips were a perfect balance between fullness and subtlety. It was gently curved and so inviting that you wanted to feel the shape of them right against yours.
"I..." you started, your voice in a breathless whisper. "I want you to kiss me."
He let out a pleased sound, slowly sliding his hands out of your shirt. "I can definitely do that."
And then he was moving forward, pressing his lips to yours, caging you in with strong hands on either side of your face. You instantly melted like a puddle. You were ice and he was the sun, and the mere taste of him had your body dissipate in his arms.
He teased your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, lightly tracing the pink skin until your mouth parted in invitation. You moan quietly as the taste of him—faint traces of coffee and something incredibly sweet—greeted you. His tongue slid against yours, hot and eager to taste you as pleasure surged throughout your body.
Spencer slowly pulled away, trailing his lips down your neck before he sucked on the spot right under your ear. You could practically feel the smile against your skin as his hands traveled down your arms, holding you gently as he whispered, "Tell me what else you want."
The ache between your legs was too much to handle. A simple kiss was enough for your body to burn with lust. You needed the pleasure, you needed the release, and he was the only one who could give it to you. He was the only one who knew your body as if you were made exactly for him to ravish. Your eyes smoldered with an insatiable longing and your breath came in shallow, hurried gasps, each one a desperate plea for fulfillment.
It was now or never.
"I want you to fuck me."
He leaned back, if he was surprised by your choice of words, he didn't show it. Instead, he let out a sigh as his hands continued to move down your sides again. "Oh, sweetheart, it's not that I don't want to, but we both know I would need more than..." His eyes swept over the watch around his wrist. "...eight minutes to fuck you properly."
Your breath hitched in your throat, then you watched as the curve of his lip turned upwards into a teasing smile.
"But I can't leave my sweet girl all desperate like this, can I?" Then his hands were back on your hips. "Why don't you ride my thigh instead?"
Your face heated up at the suggestion while your mouth slipped out a desperate whimper. Your skin flushed with a warm, feverish glow, and the world around you faded into obscurity as desire became your sole focus.
You were hesitant, but you were also desperate to find your release, so your body started moving on its own, hips rutting against the roughness of his pants. Pressing the growing heat surging between your legs onto his thigh sent a shiver in your system.
Much to his pleasure, Spencer's mouth stretched out into a thin and permissive smile, unable to hide his satisfaction. "That's it," he praised, fingers digging into your hips. His raspy voice only made you burn with red-hot desire. "Keep going."
Following his words, you moved your pelvis. What started out lazy and slow soon turned into sporadic thrusts as you tried to cling to any friction, grinding yourself against his leg with such fervor. It was too much, but at the same time, it wasn't enough.
Attempting to catch your breath, you buried your face into the crook of his neck to suppress your mewls of arousal as best as you could. But as he continued to massage your hips and manually move you back and forth on his leg, the effort quickly became useless.
"This feels good, doesn't it?" He murmured. "It's so cute how easily you get off with just my thigh, don't you think?" He said, giving your ass cheeks a firm squeeze.
You breathed his name as your eyes fluttered to a close. You grind your hips harder down onto his thigh, gasping against his lips when your clit caught on the material of his pants. Your toes curl as the fierce heat of pleasure overtook your senses. You were greedy with it, chasing after that spark as you rocked your hips steadily, bottom lip trapped between your teeth, and eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
"Doing so well for me," he whispered against your ear, hands gripping your hips as you rubbed yourself against his thigh quickly. He smiled when a soft, strangled moan escaped your parted lips, which encouraged him even more. "Look at you, drooling over my leg."
And just to prove his point, he pushed your skirt up along your legs until its material lay loosely around your waist. His eyes took in the sight of you. The way you were grinding against his leg frantically, the thin fabric of your underwear pressing between your throbbing cunt from the constant friction, slightly showing off soft, bare skin glistening under the light.
"So fucking wet," he mused, his tongue swiping along his lower lip as he watched you drenching him. "Just the way I like it."
It felt as if you were floating, so pleasurably dizzy it turned your head to mush. It was hard to keep yourself upright, eyes rolling back, body nearly giving out. And the wisest thing to do for you was to stop because you could imagine the mess you were making. You could also imagine the wet patch of your arousal staining his pants, visible for everyone to see.
"P-People will talk," you whispered between bated breaths.
"Let them." He rocked your hips forward, encouraging you to move faster. "Let them know your sweet pussy made this mess on me."
A soft, involuntary whimper escaped your lips. You rolled your hips again, and the beginnings of something heady and sweet swelled within you. But in that heat of the moment, a sudden hush fell over the room, and your heightened senses caught the faint sound of footsteps approaching from outside. Your body stilled, every muscle tensed, and your breathing became shallow as you strained to listen to the distant murmur of voices.
Spencer suddenly leaned closer and ran the tips of his teeth along the outer shell of your ear once he felt your momentum slow. "I didn't tell you to stop, did I?"
You shuddered in response and found your pace again, faster and longer, continuing to knead yourself against his thigh. But then the sudden jolt of the doorknob sent a bolt of panic through you.
"It's locked," a muffled voice echoed from behind the door. "Isn't class supposed to start soon?"
Your ears perked up at the familiar voice before a second voice chimed in, yet still holding a familiarity you also recognized. "Is he not here yet?"
A small groan escaped your lips. There was no denying who those voices belonged to. They were your friends, albeit not that close, yet you were still acquainted with them and the thought of having people you knew standing a few feet away from you while you continued to rut your hips against him was making your head delirious.
"Do you know them?"
You nodded helplessly.
"Then maybe you should keep your voice down," he suggested, holding you closer to him. "Don't want them to know what you're doing in here, do you?"
He noticed the way your body stiffened.
"Or is that what gets you off?" He asked. "Your friends standing a few feet away while you're grinding desperately on your professor?" His hand sits on your lower back, drifting down to the tops of your ass, forcing you to rut forward.
It was so, so wrong, yet you couldn't stop the pleasure coursing through your veins at the possibility of being caught. The knowledge that your friends were just outside, on the brink of discovering your intimate moment, added an exhilarating layer to your pleasure.
"Spencer," you whined. "Please."
"Naught minx," he mumbled. "I think I like seeing you like this."
Suddenly, he jerked his leg up, catching you off guard and you whined instantly, unprepared to counter the pressure pushing up onto your sore cunt. Muffled cries of ecstasy escaped your lips, your teeth clenched in a futile attempt to hold back your moan.
It didn't take long until a pulsating warmth began to radiate from the pit of your stomach. Each passing second brought a rising crescendo, a mounting tension that threatened to shatter your composure. You whimpered, thighs shaking slightly as you continued the abuse toward your clit, somehow the material of his pants made the stimulation even better and it almost caused you to lurch forward in shock.
"That's it, use me," he encouraged. "So, so good for me. My sweet girl."
Your breath came in short, shallow gasps, and your body quivered with a delicious ache. The intensity of it all was almost unbearable, and yet, you craved more, grinding yourself harder. Your muscles tightened, your breath quickened, your skin prickled with anticipation, and nothing could have prepared you for his next words.
"Cum on my thigh and I'll let you cum around my cock tonight."
That was it. You were instantly gone. The thought of having him stretching you was quickly engraved in your brain. The mental image of you spasming around his cock was enough for you to surrender into a blissful mess. The conversation outside continued and you made a concerted effort to keep your voice down, as waves of pleasure surged through you, causing your limbs to tremble and your muscles to spasm.
It wasn't until the sound of footsteps finally retreating from outside that a wave of relief ran through you, yet your breath still came in ragged gasps as he helped you ride out your orgasm and held you in place, making small ruts against himself with your spastic thighs gripping around him tighter.
"Oh my god—" he pulled you in for a kiss. Spencer's mouth devoured you, hot with a passion that made you dizzy. You whined into his mouth and bucked against him, little whimpers filling his throat. Then you felt his tongue on your bottom lip; you puckered your mouth, letting his tongue invade every corner of your entrance as a thrilling sensation shot right through your veins, finally riding out your orgasmic bliss.
When he finally pulled away, he watched as a string of saliva fell against your lips. He reached out and wiped the bottom of your lip with his thumb as his eyes glazed over your red and sweaty face. They flickered from your face down to your lower half as well as your equally drenched thighs. Yet despite the disheveled state of your hair and the sheen of sweat glistening on your skin, you radiated a raw and untamed beauty.
Spencer always thought you were beautiful, but nothing could compare to the sight before him. Your once-pristine hair was tumbled in disarray around your shoulders, framing your flushed face. Your eyes, half-closed and smoky with desire, held an irresistible allure that seemed to draw him closer with every glance. Then there were your lips, kissed to a plush, inviting fullness, beckoned with a promise of lingering sweetness. You looked wrecked, like a hot, beautiful mess.
And he couldn't wait to ravish you tonight.
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jhopezwrld · 19 days
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can you do some nsfw five headcanons? thanksss
aw hell yea man. i want aidan gallagher so bad it’s criminal i need to be locked up in horny jail !! (surprise surprise i like another white man)
five hargreeves nsfw headcanons
tw: smut !! mdni plz xoxo 💋
ngl it took him a WHILE to stop cumming so quick after the two of u had sex for the first time. dude was alone for like 50 years with nothing but a mannequin and his left hand ok cut him some slack
but trust me when i say he always made up for it. if he’s cumming after 5 minutes he’s making u cum at LEAST two times that night (more for himself than for you bc busting so quick damaged his ego a bit)
had never eaten pussy before you so he was super hesitant going into it at first, even though he didn’t act like it
probably spent a few minutes exploring what you had down there before rlly going to town on you
picks up on things very quickly bc he’s so smart so it was easy for him to figure out what you liked and didn’t like
is able to make you cum the first time he goes down on you and will never forget it (huge ego boost)
blowjobs are one of his favorite things in the world, second only to actual sex with you
he’s heard his brothers talk about sex in passing but brushed it off as some stupid superficial thing they were obsessed with
but oh man after the first time you two do it he wants it all the time
for the first few months he’s practically insatiable, which is so far from his normally calm and collected persona
after a while, he’s able to control himself more. it becomes less of an addiction and more of a luxury to him
but don’t get me wrong, just because he doesn’t need it every day doesn’t mean he doesn’t need it often
he considers it the perfect way to unwind from a long and stressful day
or the best way to apologize after upsetting you
prefers using his fingers over his mouth on you because he gets a better view of your face and how good he’s making you feel
he gets super possessive sometimes (especially when he’s drunk) so he will occasionally leave dark bruises on your neck, just below your collar. easy enough to cover up but easy to show off as well
doesn’t like hickies on himself but appreciates scratches on his back from time to time
doesnt talk about your sex life with his siblings, but it’s clear by the way he relaxes around them more after the two of you get together that he’s getting that ‘good good’ (direct quote from diego said to a disgusted allison)
keeps his hair long because he likes when you tug it
favorite position is missionary bc he’s a classic man what can i say. he loves that he can see your entire body and your face all at the same time
however you on top is something he’ll never refuse
pls just top him every once and a while he’s so tired from saving the world thrice and taking care of his siblings and murdering people… he needs a break !
is always so hesitant to relinquish control to you but he knows he always enjoys himself in the end
doesn’t usually get into ‘roles’ during sex but he prefers being the one to call the shots
if ur able to get him to sub be prepared bc he’s a mouthy little brat
probably likes being slapped around a lil bit i can’t lie
is a secret sucker for soft romantic sex (but he saves that for special occasions like anniversaries and birthdays)
he’ll cradle your face and whisper how pretty you are and press gentle kisses to your cheeks. he’ll even hold ur hand the whole time!!
ok last addition but i feel like when he gets super drunk he’ll accidentally spill the beans about your sex life to klaus and ben and now ben can’t look at him or you the same without remembering that five told him you swallow LMAO
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inosukijiro · 3 months
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𝗚𝗜𝗬𝗨𝗨 𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗦 𝗧𝗢 𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗧
𝙨𝙮𝙣. ━ giyuu decides its time to tell you how he feels.
━ 𝙖𝙣𝙣𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. this is part two. or not, it really doesn’t matter if you read the first part. loved this idea bc i love crochet. currently making a giyuu amigurumi doll atm, so yay me ig
━ 𝙖𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨. im so sorry for being gone for almost two months. i was burnt out. but i have lots of prompts / plot ideas written down and just have to finish them. also also!! season 4 was crazy, i loved every minute of it but that ending – im so not ready for the final arc. anyways, thank you for the support as usual, luv u besties
━ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨. fluff. use of swear words (not a lot, but they are there). giyuu-centric. modern reader in kny. mentions of crochet and amigurumi. gender-neutral reader. also very poor dialogue probably, i avoid talking irl so yk. 1.9k words.
first part (optional); giyuu has a crush
Giyuu is about to have a stroke. He’s alone in his room late at night. He should be sleeping, but he can't imagine doing so. The moon light is coming through his window and all he can do is stare at the crochet hook in his hand as his fingers remain still. He is hunched, hovering over a ball of yarn in his lap. He can't shake the feeling of inadequacy that heavily weighed on him because he really has no idea what he’s doing.
You had this habit of making him gifts. Cute little amigurumi things and it had become a habit of his waiting when you’ll show up with one just for him. They’re almost always an animal or some sea creature, maybe even a small plant that he has sitting on display in his room somewhere. They are always so adorable and tiny, always fitting in the palm of his hand. It's almost like clockwork at this point, and Giyuu is always so flattered to receive them.
He remembers the little tiny baby sea turtle you have made for him. Its flippers rested against the palms of his cupped hands; its eyes and lids sewed on so perfectly along with the rest of it. It’s so intricate, he almost thought it was real. He remembers bringing it up to his face, staring at it in its tiny face, because for some reason this time he really didn’t know how to act.
He remembers you giggling, quickly explaining that you really didn’t know what to make him this time – lies, you have so many patterns. You just care too much about his opinion and his likes. Honestly, you could make him anything you wanted and he would be happy.
❛ And then I thought, ‘well you are the Water Pillar after all’. And I thought the sea turtle was kinda cute too, so I wanted to make it for you. Now you have a little friend to keep you company on your mission! ❜
Now here he was, with little idea of what he was doing. A frustrated sigh left his lips. He began working the yarn along with the hook – all his movement completely hesitant and fumbling. It would be a lie to say that he had never been skillful with his hands; he is a swordsman after all. However, it was clear that he wasn’t as skillful as you regarding this, and it makes sense. He had never picked up any knitting or crochet hooks until tonight at this ungodly hour.
Sure, he could have just crafted a wooden figurine. It is something he vaguely knows how to do, and seems like a more appealing thought now, plus, he knows that you would love it either way. But all he wanted to do was something special. He wanted to convey his feelings to you through what you love doing the most and give you something that he knows you would like. And for about a moment he wonders if this is a good idea. Then decides that he doesn’t care anymore. This is going to make or break him. He procrastinated this long enough.
Though hours passed and Giyuu is shocked to consider it done. He hoped it was. He glances over at his window and the sun is barely over the horizon. And as much as Giyuu loves you, he can't do this again. No, that is also a lie. He would if you asked. But he couldn’t help but feel disgruntled. He didn’t even know what he made. It is some type of plushie. It has a big body with some stubby legs. Its arms are almost the length of it too, if not longer, making them seem like large floppy paws. Its head; he is unsure if it's too big as it’s the same size as the body, but it’s a bit too late now to do anything about it. He made small ears on the top, and added some type of embroidery to make the eyes – as no buttons seemed to look right to him. There was no nose or mouth either, because Giyuu couldn’t figure out how to add them without making it look worse than it already does.
He frowned at the finished product, before hanging his head. It was done, yes. But to him, he knows that he could have done a much better job. And the pang of disappointment didn’t help. Because surely you deserve something better than this crude attempt at a gift.
However, for some reason Giyuu was oddly excited. Maybe it was the ice cold water he almost drowned himself awake to. But he really didn’t pay it any mind. Maybe he just didn’t care anymore. Maybe he just wanted to get it over with. He was afraid, so very afraid because this was the first time he was outwardly seeking your validation. But he was also anticipating the interaction. Because you were so nice. And he shouldn’t be afraid.
So here he was now, standing in front of you. And suddenly, he can't remember why he was so afraid in the first place. You looked so delightfully happy just like he had hoped. He watched as you took the plush from his hand, your fingers just barely brushing against his. And he felt his palms get clammy again. You were so delicate with it, and honestly, if you had asked Giyuu, perhaps you were a bit too delicate. He didn’t think that it deserved such care. He watched as you brushed your thumb over the soft yarn. Your eyes staring intently at it, and Giyuu couldn’t place the look you were giving.
“Giyuu, it’s adorable!” Your eyes sparked just a little bit when you looked back up at him. The plush is pressed against your chest right now. So softly, almost protectively and Giyuu actually can't believe it. Truly, he is in disbelief. You actually liked it? You really must’ve, because you’re going on about the plush; gushing over it and completely unfazed by any of its imperfections. You asked how he made it and when he had the time. It was nice, until you asked him why. And he got all nervous again.
Well… He responds. “You make me such nice things all the time. And I wanted to make you something as well. To show my appreciation.”
Oh! You are a little taken aback by that as a light blush starts to burn on your cheeks. You were definitely feeling the appreciation. You just never really anticipated Giyuu to make you something. Not because you thought he was incapable, or anything like that. You just… liked making things, and if that happened to be for Giyuu more than others you weren’t going to deny it. It made you happy to do so. And you never really expected anything in return. But for him to make you something, the gesture kind of made you feel special. It was so sweet!
“Of course, I’m glad you like it. You… mean a lot to me you know. Um…” He stops because he's a bit flush. He wants to confess so badly and he doesn’t understand; why is it so hard. Just say it. It's like you are waiting for him to – and you are – but you are so completely and utterly patient with him that sometimes he wished you weren’t. “Ngh, don’t look at me like that.”
You giggle softly. You can’t help it. Why is he so cute? “I’m sorry,” You say sincerely, still hugging the plush to your chest. “Please continue.”
His heart is beating out of his rib cage. He feels like he is going to die. He has never expressed his feelings so openly before and as much as he wants to say that he is uncomfortable, he's only half way there and he only needs to get the words out. He's been afraid of rejection for so long that, even deep down knowing the possibility of you loving him exists, he can’t help but worry about it. The words are on his tongue and at some point, he has to come out and say it.
“I… I love you.” Finally. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to tell you. You don’t have to say or do anything, I just… I just wanted you to know.”
“You love me?” You had a big, stupid smile on your face, which made the question you had asked seem hopeful to him. If you had been home, you might have thought he was pulling a joke on you, not that he would know to assume that. And you, yourself are having a good time telling the small voice in the back of your head to fuck off because – yes, Giyuu Tomioka just confessed his love for you and you were not going to let the universe take it back.
He nodded, silent. The smallest, timid, smile pulled at his lips as he waited for you to continue. “Giyuu, I love you too. Actually, I..” you stopped before you started tripping over your words and let out a deep breath. Your grasp on the plush tightened, clutching it closer to your body in an attempt to ground yourself. “I… may have been in love with you for a while, too.”
He stares at you for a moment, another dumb look on his face. It's like the gears are turning in his mind. That yes, just like you had, are realizing this is all actually happening. And if he promptly pulls you into the softest, brain melting kiss you've ever had – that's between the two of you.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤᘡ ۫ 𖨂 𓈒 🦑 ۟ ៹ 𓂂
Of course, now it’s later and Giyuu is watching you show off the plush to the rest of the Hashira. You had grabbed his hand in a rush, so excited and happy. He let you tug him along, squeezing his hand so tight; never minding the clamminess. He watched as you shoved the crochet piece in Rengokus face, telling him with pride that Giyuu was the one that made it for you. ‘I see that,’ he says and lets out one of those joyous laughs, almost amused.
You tug him along, going from Hashira to Hashira. Giyuu vividly remembers you shouting at Shinazugawa from across the training grounds about ‘Look at what Giyuu made me! Suck it you fuck face’ before running off and taking him with you again. He remembers in the background the Wind Pillar shouting, something about how it was ‘Ugly as fuck’ and a few other things but Giyuu ignored it.
Others recognized the effort Giyuu put into it, much like Rengoku. He gets a ‘That's kinda flashy’ from Tengen, and surprisingly Shinobu didn’t really poke at him too much, but maybe that was because you were there. Mitsuri squeals about it. She thinks it’s the cutest thing she's ever seen, and Giyuu makes sure not to look at Obanai at all. Otherwise, the man might force Giyuu to teach him. Or force himself in between you and him to teach him, and Giyuu doesn’t know if he can handle that.
The afternoon passed by after that and you both ended up back at his estate, just like always. This time, you were much closer to him than usual, not that Giyuu minded. He watched from over your shoulder as you continued your own little crochet project. He had half a mind to join you, but instead opted to enjoy just being with you; resting his head near yours and wrapping his arms around your waist. Though, somewhere close by the little turtle and the plush were laying together where you had placed them. It was almost like they were watching you, like they were proud of him.
Thank you once again for reading!! ໒꒰ྀི ˃ ∩∩ ˂ ꒱ྀིა
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