#this is so self indulgent but they have not left my mind so

[visionsofyouandme]

𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒𝓈

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜: Something lurks in the woods, ravenous and feared. Joel finds solace in a cabin, and in the belly of the beast herself.

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 6.1k

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜/𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚜: DDDNE. Joel Miller x afab!Reader. Post Outbreak. No Ellie. Dark!Reader. Spooky vibes. No use of ‘y/n’. Reader has no physical descriptions but has she/her pronouns. Age gap. fear of monsters in the woods. Blood. +18 MNDI DubCon (Joel is “under the influence”). Somnophilia? Smut. Dry humping. Unprotected P in v sex. Swapping bodily fluids as a ritual (you’ll see👀).

𝙰/𝙽: Soooo idk how this even came in my brain but god when I started I couldn’t stop. I wrote this for my own self indulgence and decided to share it, cause I know there’s some twisted MFers just like me out there LOL. So, if you’re sick like me and love this shit, I hope you enjoy<3 Alright. Let’s get down to it.

Here on AO3!

“Be careful in ‘them woods. A monster hunts there, worse than Infected. Get somewhere safe before dark.”

Joel wanted to scoff, but still heeded the old man’s warning. Having just left the safety of the old man’s cabin and into the Appalachian wilderness, Joel made his way through dense trees and stepped over protruding roots. He didn’t know exactly where he was until the old man had produced a map, showing Joel that he was still going in the right direction of Wyoming. Being somewhere in Tennessee, he got instructions from the old man to stay near the road, and it would lead him to a small, desolate community that was abandoned some time after the outbreak. He told Joel to not stop until he got to that little community, and to find a house to stay in. Shut the doors, let minimal light out of the house, and stay quiet.

Joel had strayed from the road in fear of roaming raiders and Infected. He was losing light fast, and tried to find his way back to the road, but felt sufficiently lost. This didn’t completely worry him, as he still headed in the direction the old man had given him. He did want to find somewhere to lay for the night, and the man’s words lingered in the back of his mind as Joel threw a look over his shoulder every so often. 

He finally set his sights on a small cabin, and after watching, saw no signs of life. Jogging to the safety of the porch, he nudged the door open with his rifle raised. Doing a quick sweep, he saw no signs that anyone or anything had been in there. There was still furniture standing- a kitchen table with chairs, a couch and armchair, what used to be a media console was now bare and dusted. He lowered his gun and did a better sweep of the house- looking in the pantry, in hallway closets, opening the closet doors in the upper bedrooms. He found clothes, bedding, blankets thicker than he had seen in a minute. In the pantry, he found canned food and figured he would finally have something other than sardines for once. 

Whoever was here before left a hell of a treasure trove. 

He made himself at home as best he could- stoking a fire in the fireplace, laying out blankets and pillows on the worn-out couch, setting his rifle in arms’ reach. He found a pot and cleaned it out to the best of his ability, putting one of the cans in there to heat up food and actually have a somewhat hearty meal for once. 

He set the small bowl aside, wiping his face. The solitude was not foreign to him, and he really didn’t mind it these days. Being on the road all alone kind of forced you to be content with yourself. 

Shifting his eyes to the open window, he stood up and walked to it, looking out. He remembered what the man said, and closed the curtains, even though night had fallen hours ago.

He found a book and struggled to read it in the dim light, but felt something make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Outside had gone quiet. Too quiet. No birds, no crickets, no rustling of wind in the trees. Until, he heard the softest cry.

“Open the door! Please, god- open the door!”

Distinctly female, Joel jumped to his feet and grabbed his rifle. He shifted the curtains and couldn’t see anything but darkness, and the voice that seemed to be drawing near. He ripped the door open, rifle raised until he saw a shape appear from the treeline.

“Stop!” he called, and the figure came to a screeching halt, nearly doubling over. Definitely human. Not Infected.

“Sir, please- there’s-” she said, and swiveled her head around behind her, but Joel heard nothing. A million thoughts flew through his mind, and he gave a strangled huff and lowered the gun, nodding at her viciously to come inside. She shot out like a bullet, and as she drew nearer, he could see her features grow more clear. When she barreled inside, he shut the door tightly and looked out the window into the night.

“What was it? Infected? Raiders?” he said, and turned his head to the panting mess of a woman behind him, who cowered by the couch. She looked at him, eyes wide with fear, and shook her head minutely. 

“N-no. Not- I don’t know.” she said, her voice small, trembling. He huffed, and looked outside, and quickly shut the curtains even tighter. 

Shut the doors, let minimal light out of the house, and stay quiet.

“Are you hurt?” he whispered, and she shook her head again. They stood on opposite ends of the room, assessing one another. Joel’s eyes cast down her- ratty clothes, gaunt features, bags under her eyes. She looked young and old at the same time- hard to pinpoint when you look like you’ve been to hell and back. He’s sure he looked similar.

“Who are you?” he questioned, his voice still low. Deep, sallow eyes watched him, and she whispered her name like it was a breeze. He nodded, offering up his own. 

“Joel,” she repeated, nodding like she was confirming it to herself. He nodded, and finally set his rifle down, raising his eyebrows and sighed heavily, the years suddenly tumbling onto his shoulders.

“Want something to eat?”

She was reluctant at first to eat, but he coaxed her into at least a can of chicken noodle soup. Even then, she didn’t eat much, her eyes moving between his like a frightened animal. He wondered if she regretted coming to the cabin for safety. 

He wasn’t much of a talker. He took the armchair, letting her stay on the couch. He looked at the fire as she pushed around the soup in the can, and he then looked at her a bit more closely in the firelight. She had bloodstains on her sleeves, her shirt. It didn’t look new, and he wondered how long she had been wandering with blood coating her thin shirt and jacket. 

“You… ya sure you’re not hurt?” he questioned, and she set the can down, looking over at him. 

“It’s not mine.” she said, regarding the blood, and Joel nodded. He leaned back in the chair, sighing with a bit of sympathy in his chest. In a world like this, everyone has lost someone. He just hated that someone like her- so delicate and fragile- had to be wrapped up in it, too.

“Where are you going?” she questioned, and Joel looked towards the fire. Did he really want to implicate himself in this? He didn’t owe her anything. But, he felt bad, sitting in silence. He cleared his throat, and shrugged, deciding to keep things vague.

“West. Hear there’s some people survivin’ out there.” he said, and she nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. The air was chilly, even with the fire, like life was being sucked right out of it. Joel stood up and put another log on the fire, twisting things this way and that to bring it to life again. When he sat back down, he could see her gaze still on him. Unwavering, cautious.

“Where are you from?” she questioned. Curious thing she is, he thought. No use in hiding, though. 

“Well, born and raised in Texas. After the world went to hell… well. That’s where things get blurry.” he said, and shook his head like it would erase the memory of life at the QZ. She nodded, and he felt a little uneasy under her gaze. He refused to give in to her, though, and kept his gaze on the fire. 

“What about you? Where ya going?” he questioned, trying to shift the course of the conversation away from him. 

“Was supposed to be going north. Canada.” she said, and he nodded, sighing deeply. He didn’t know shit about the situation up there, but he knew it couldn’t be much better than here in the states. 

“You lost your people on the way?” he questioned, and glanced at her at that moment. Surprisingly, her gaze was locked on the fire, the flames castng eerie shadows on her features. His eyebrows furrowed, and he could see something move over her face. Regret, maybe? Fear?

Giving Joel a slight nod, his suspicions were confirmed, but also put him at ease. She was alone. Good. Meant that there wasn’t much for stragglers, or worry that someone was waiting to ambush him. He nodded in response, and looked her over again.

“I have a spare shirt, if you wanna get out of that.” he said, nodding to her attire. She looked at him, a bit of gratefulness in her eyes and nodded. The exchange was quick- she left to the bathroom and emerged with his (very faded) navy blue shirt and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Settling back onto the couch, she looked at Joel and mumbled a thanks. He nodded, waving his hand dismissively. But, it felt nice to have someone to take care of again. After losing Tess, he felt pretty lost, the only hope driving him was that he may see his brother again. Or die trying to get to him. 

He heard her shift and saw her back turned to him as she lay on the couch. He sighed, his rifle next to his leg and he felt himself slowly succumbing to sleep, despite his best efforts to stay vigilant and keep watch.

When he awoke, it was dark.

Not just dark- but pitch black.

The fire had apparently gone out, and all Joel could see that offered light was the last dying embers of the fire. He began to sit up, his back groaning in protest, but he suddenly felt a heaviness on his chest. Not from anxiety, but like a light pressure trying to keep him down. He grunted, but felt a warm breeze fan his face, the scent sweet but tangy. 

“It’s okay, Joel,” a voice cooed softly. Warmth pressed against his face, and he turned to it out of pure instinct. A hand that was warm and soft like velvet brushed against his skin. Comforting. 

“Rest. It’s going to be just fine.” The voice was encouraging, soft and sweet and utterly enticing. His thoughts strayed to her, and wondered if it was she who was speaking to him now. Why was she so close? Why did she move from the couch? How was she making it so easy for him to… Fall… Back…. Asleep……..

When he awoke, he was covered in a blanket, the curtains drawn back, and the fire roaring steadily in front of him. He frowned, shifting in the armchair and looked around. His gun still sat at his side, and his eyes scanned the room for the girl. But, she wasn’t on the couch. In fact, it was her blanket that was draped over him. 

He called out her name, and sat up, rubbing his chest where he thought he could still feel warmth pressed there. Had he imagined all of that? Had it been a dream? It felt like one, but at the same time, could have been mistaken for an experience teetering on the edge of dream and reality. 

He grabbed his rifle, but heard a voice-

“Oh! You’re awake.” 

He turned to see her standing in the hallway, and she looked a bit better in the daytime. When she stepped out of the darkness of the hallway and to the living room, he could see she was definitely looking better- not as sallow, cheeks a bit more rosy, eyes a bit more relaxed. She still wore his shirt, and he nodded, wincing at the pain that shot through his neck. He reached up and rubbed it carefully, like he slept on it wrong. She frowned,

“Are you alright?” she questioned, and Joel nodded, and pushed the blanket off of him to stand but suddenly became lightheaded, the floor coming to meet him rather quickly. He heard her cry out his name as he fell. and felt her warm touch on his arm, pulling him onto his back. He blinked, looking up at the ceiling, and then her face that hovered over him. She was mumbling something, hands tracing over his chest like she was trying to find something wrong.

Warmth. Hands. Pressure.

That dream was starting to feel a little more real.

“Joel? Can you hear me?” she questioned worriedly, and he coughed to clear his throat that felt like it was closing up.

“Y-Yeah. Can you- help me up.” he said, his question turning to a soft demand, and she put her arm under his own and helped him to a sitting position. She broke away and handed him his canteen that he swiftly downed, the room finally stopped spinning.

Guess that canned food wasn’t as good as he thought.

He looked at her and could see worry etched across her features, and he smiled gently.

“S’alright. Must have had some bad food last night.” he said, and she nodded, though the concern didn’t leave her face. 

“Come on. Let’s get you to the couch.” she said, and helped him to his feet. He was thankful he didn’t have to walk far, and nearly collapsed onto the couch had it not been for her strong hold on him. He blinked, and looked at her, suddenly feeling exposed. Raw. Open.

He couldn’t afford to be sick with someone new in his sights. What if others showed up? What if she tried to rob him of his things and leave? He shouldn’t have ever fallen asleep. He should have stayed awake, and tried to have kept watch. Something. Anything.

“Here, I'll heat you up something.” she said quickly, and stood up to pick up the can of chicken noodle soup she had barely touched last night. Joel was too tired to care or worry if she had done anything to it, and she returned what seemed like hours later with the can and the spoon. She helped him sit up and he took it gingerly, beginning to shovel it into his mouth. She watched him warily, and tilted her chin down to study him more. 

“Whatever it is, you need to rest. You won’t survive out there without being able to stand.” she said quietly, and he nodded, hating he had to agree with her. He needed time to recover from whatever the hell it was that had a hold on him, whether he liked it or not.

Fuck, he thought. He gave the woman a passing glance. He didn’t know if he could trust her entirely, but he didn’t have a choice.

He was stuck with her whether he liked it or not.

He felt better over the course of the day. He was able to walk outside with her, and she pointed out a stream nearby where they collected water and boiled it to refill their canteens. Joel had eventually taken off his boots and laid up on the couch. He felt lazy, and was disgusted with himself. He had never taken a day off in the 20 years since the outbreak. Even if he got sick in the QZ he’d pop a pill or two and sleep it off, getting up the next day and going back to work.

This “break” felt forced. He hated it.

But her, on the other hand… he was somewhat grateful for someone to talk to for once. Seeing as he had nothing better to do, and couldn’t concentrate on reading, he focused on her. Asking her questions, keeping things light. She kept things vague, and he couldn’t blame her. When she questioned him, he did the same. They were guarded, watching each other, trying to see if the other was trustworthy. 

And by the way she diligently took care of him, even if he was a stranger to her, he was starting to believe she was just a fellow human desperate for human connection. 

She sat on the armchair that he had vacated early that morning as he sat up on the couch. With water and some food in his system, he felt better. She entertained him with a story about her former party- something about a friend formulating a new game to entertain children with as they traveled. When he heard that, his heart fell into his stomach. She had been around a decent group then, and a family at that- he was jealous. But also deeply, deeply sad for her. She talked about them fondly, and he could see a sad glint in her eyes. He felt a pull to reach out and comfort her. 

That distracted him for a moment. Why was he so… caring for her? He wasn’t a touchy-feely guy. Never one to encourage physical touch, or any kind of intimate moment. His days of softness were long gone, so this surprised him. 

“I hope they’re okay, wherever they are.” she said at the closing of her story, pulling at the frayed edge of the blanket that lay next to her on the armchair. He nodded, knowing the feeling all too well. Hoping that whatever kind of peaceful afterlife there was, that all of those people he loved and cherished were there.

Nightfall came, and Joel knelt next to the fire, shifting the sticks to make the fire burn a bit brighter. She had somehow found some firewood, probably by former inhabitants, and they were using that to heat up the cabin living room. 

“Here, i’ll take the chair-” Joel said gruffly, turning to stand and he saw her looking at him with a hard expression. She cocked an eyebrow, and he did the same.

“Joel,” she said sternly like a mother disciplining their child. “You need to actually rest, okay? I know that’s a tough notion to wrap your head around, but still.”

“We can alternate, then.” he said, trying to figure out a compromise. Another first for him- compromising was not in his blood. But, he wanted to appease both of them. “You can take the couch, and I’ll take the armchair. Tomorrow-”

“Joel, take the damn couch.” she said, her tone not unkind but softly demanding. Like the wind had been knocked out from underneath him, he sat down onto it with a grunt. He shook his head, and she smiled. In the dim firelight, her teeth looked oddly white and straight. This was probably the first genuine smile he had seen from her, and it was radiant. 

He sighed, trying to show his disdain for giving in, and she shook her head with that same smile, looking towards the fire. He looked to the window where the curtains had been drawn again, and he could hear the sounds of the night beyond them. He sighed, sliding his boots off and threw his body onto the couch. He pulled the blanket halfway over him, his hand over his stomach. He could barely get the words out to bid her goodnight as his eyes fell shut and he floated away from reality. 

He must have been dreaming. There couldn’t be any other explanation.

He felt the warm heaviness on him again. This time it felt like it was straddling his waist, the same warm hands on his chest. Arousal twisted in his stomach, and his hips shifted involuntarily, meeting something solid and warm.

He hadn’t had a sex dream in a long while, hell, probably years-

He opened his eyes, the ceiling dark but discernible in the dying firelight. The warm heaviness covered him, and his neck felt sore again. His hand reached up, and found a warm, clothed waist.

Sensing movement from the corner of his eye, a head lifted. It was her, and she looked surprised. Her mouth was covered in some kind of dark substance, hard to tell in the light that was barely there, her lips dark with it as it trailed down her chin. Her hand smoothed over his chest, and she smiled sweetly, noticing the smallest bit of teeth exposed from under her upper lip. 

“You’re okay,” she cooed quietly, and he felt warm fingertips brush his lips. Feeling a soft roll of her hips, he groaned softly. Whatever this dream was, it was both thrilling and terrifying. “It’s okay, Joel. Go back to sleep, I’ve got you,” and her head moved back down from his view, and he felt the ghost of warm lips on his neck.

With no other choice and no strength to fight it, his hand dropped from her waist and complete darkness overtook him again.

When he awoke, the sun was barely peeking through the curtains, and he felt heavy, his head spinning like he was drunk. He shifted, trying to bring feeling into his limbs again, and he smelled something oddly appealing. 

Meat.

He slowly sat himself up right and saw the fire was still going steadily, more firewood sitting next to the fireplace. He heard movement behind him and turned to look back but winced, rubbing his neck, feeling like the muscle was spasming. He pulled his legs off the couch, and rubbed his eyes. When they cleared, he looked to the kitchen to see her at the kitchen table, canteens sitting and a plate of food waiting. She was pouring over a book, and he stood up slowly, his joints cracking lightly and making him wince.

She looked up at the sound and smiled, closing her book. 

“Made you something,” she said cheerily. He nodded, craning his neck to see what was on the table. “Got a squirrel this morning, hope you don’t mind I used your rifle. I don’t know how to set traps, so…” she said, and he walked over to the kitchen table slowly, settling in the seat. Shooting her a look, he wondered how the hell he slept through the shot. Was he really that tired?

He could see some vegetables from a can that were steaming next to the seared meat. His stomach grumbled, and he quickly took the (somehow clean?) fork and dug in. He realized he probably looked like an animal, and slowed down, his eyes raising to her. She grinned, leaning back and crossing her arms.

“Good, isn’t it?” She laughed, and he nodded, swallowing.

“Sorry.” He murmured, a bit ashamed of his lack of manners. She laughed, and shook her head,

“No, it’s okay. I had some food myself before you woke up. You should have seen me… Probably looked like a monster or an animal or something.” She laughed, and he grunted in response, continuing to eat. Feeling like life was literally coming back to him, he sat up and back. He regarded her with a guarded expression, trying to piece together what his dream meant. He could still feel the impression of hands on him, and he rubbed his chest absentmindedly.

“How are you feeling?” she questioned, and he shrugged, looking out the kitchen window that showed the sun was high in the sky. How long had he been asleep?

“Fine.” he said, rubbing his face and letting it fall into his lap. She nodded, and picked up the plate and fork, walking over and setting it in the sink like she was a dutiful housewife performing tasks. He half expected her to turn on the water and wash it. But, she turned and faced him, smiling lightly.

“You look better.” she noted, nodding to him. He scoffed, and shook his head, wincing at his neck pain again.

“Wish I felt as good as I look, then.” he said, rubbing his neck absentmindedly. She watched him, tilting her head to the side. She pushed off the counter, and walked over to him. She gestured to him, like she was asking permission to help. He looked at her and frowned,

“I don’t need- I’m fine. It’s alright.” he said, waving her off and she rolled her eyes, scoffing.

“Don’t be such a man. It’s okay to accept help every once in a while.” she said, and walked behind him. He shifted uneasily, and then felt her hands on his shoulders. Light, careful… warm.

He tensed when she began to rub, and she laughed lightly,

“Joel, if you don’t relax, you won’t help yourself.” she said, and he frowned down into his lap, and willed himself to relax. But, he just couldn’t. The thought of someone being so near, and a woman at that- he was just a man, after all. She worked at a particular knot in his shoulder and he flinched. He felt her shift behind him, and as she leaned forward, he could feel her face nearly against his ear.

“Relax.” she breathed quietly, and like a switch had flipped, he sunk into the chair. It felt like he was weightless- floating in the ocean, carried wherever the tide took him. Not a care in the world. Nothing mattered in the moment- not the Infected that roamed outside, the threat of raiders, the overall state of the world- nothing. Just bliss.

He let out a soft sigh, his head lolling forward as she continued to rub at his shoulders, her lithe hands moving to his neck. He sighed as the warmth enveloped him, feeling almost hot at this point- but the heat soothed his neck, making him even more lax. 

“Does that feel good?” she murmured, and he lifted his head slightly, mumbling a “yeah.” He could feel her hands working at his neck delicately, like she wasn’t massaging anymore but just… feeling. He really had been deprived of human connection, human touch, that he let out a soft moan.

His eyes opened gently, and he saw her kneeling in front of him, her eyebrows knitted in concern. She was calling his name, back down from the cloud he had been floating on. He blinked, and she put a hand on his knee.

“I think you dozed off.” she laughed lightly, and he looked at her, then the hand on his knee. He cleared his throat, sitting up straight but couldn’t tear his eyes away from her hand. She didn’t move it, even as he tried to regain composure.

“Yeah, uh… you must have magic hands.” he said, and she grinned. If he thought her teeth were bright and straight last night, it was even more so apparent today. And her lips were a deeper shade, like she had been putting on lipstick or receiving too many kisses. He swallowed.

She stood up slowly, and he watched her with soft brown eyes. He felt rooted in the chair, caught in her orbit. She nudged his knees apart gently, and he spread them dutifully, leaning back in the chair with a heavy stare. She tilted her head to the side, her hand moving out to touch his chest. He raised his hand, placing it over hers as it pressed over his steadily beating heart. She smiled, and he felt utterly entranced. Every movement was slow, graceful. He didn’t even notice when she settled into his lap, her other hand moving to the back of his neck. 

His free hand moved to her waist, where it held her gently. She was silent as the grave, but her body language and gaze spoke volumes. He could see this look in her eyes- soft, sultry, and maybe a bit pitiful. He raised his hand from his chest to her face, where he cupped her cheek gently. He leaned up slowly, like he was trying to emulate her easy movements, and she bent her head to meet him halfway, joining their lips in a kiss. 

The hand that rested on the back of his neck became firm, her hand curling up and holding his hair at the base of his neck. She leaned into the kiss and he sucked in a breath through his nose, feeling a hunger come over him. His hand on her waist became possessive, grabbing her and pulling her close and he heard her gasp softly against his lips. 

“What do you want?” he whispered against her lips as he went between kissing them and hovering over them. His jeans grew tight in his lap, and he could feel her smirk against his lips, giving her hips a roll. He groaned, his eyebrows furrowing and he pulled her down to guide her movements. 

“You,” she murmured, moving to kiss his cheek, his cheekbone, then jaw. He sighed, his eyes falling shut at her warm lips pressing against him. “I want all of you.”

When she moved to his neck, she lay a few careful kisses on the skin, moving to his pulse point. He grit his teeth, bringing her pelvis down to his to grind against him, his cock harder than it had been in years. 

“Fuck,” he whispered, taking her face back in his hand and crashing his lips against hers. She leaned into him, moving her hips in a way that made him moan. His hands found their way under her thighs and in a moment of sheer strength and lust, he lifted her up and carried her to the couch.

He lay her back on it and she huffed, looking up at him with glassy eyes and a smirk on those pretty lips. Her eyes moved down his chest, and he began to undo the buttons of his flannel, not even needing her to ask. She pushed herself up as he let it slide off his shoulders, pulling his undershirt off not too long after. She raised a hand, pressing against his stomach, up to his sternum, then chest. He leaned down to her and her hand snaked around his neck, pulling him towards her. He crawled over top of her, and she smiled, kissing his lips deeply. 

He sighed into her mouth, and ground his hips against hers. Hand moving up her side, under her shirt, he reveled in her warmth. She pulled away to pull her shirt off, and he was surprised to see nothing underneath. Fine by him, since he dove in and took a nipple into his mouth, giving it a hard suck. She whined, her hand curling in his hair again. He grunted in response to her flexing against his hair, and he bit down on it with just enough pressure to make her gasp, her hips lifting to his.

“Joel…” she whispered, her voice sounding familiar. Comforting.

He moved to her other breast, his hand moving up to fondle the other that he had abandoned. He laved against her skin, tasting her sweetness and soft, supple body. Everything about her seemed magical, other worldly- like she was an angel coming down to please him and him only.

He breathed her name into her skin, trailing kisses up her breast, her chest, her neck, her jaw. She whined in response again, and it only made the hardness in his jeans a bit more unbearable. He felt a tug at his waistband, and he undid her jeans, sliding them down and he stood to rid himself of his own pants. When his cock sprung free, hard and red and weeping with precome, she looked like she could salivate on the spot.

With their bodies now fully exposed, Joel settled between her legs, his hips grinding against hers. His cock brushed her slick core, and her body twitched in response. He couldn’t help the moan that escaped him, just thinking that she was just so wet. And all for him? He was a lucky man.

He felt her hand move down his side, then to his front where it wrapped around his cock. He sucked in a breath, feeling stiff and like he needed a release as quickly as possible. She dragged his cock over her pussy, and he shuddered. She looked up at him, pulling him up to meet her gaze.

“You want this,” she asked, but it ended up sounding more like a statement. He looked at her with a pleading expression, nodding gently, and she smiled like she had won the lottery. She kissed him deeply, and lined him up against her core. Without much more encouragement, he slipped inside her. 

Their chorus of moans echoed around the room, and Joel’s hips began to move as if on their own accord. He was completely out of this world by now- he didn’t feel like he was in control of his body. He felt like he was just sitting inside, feeling, and watching it happen. 

But god, was it not all so fucking good. Every sense was afire, his skin feeling as hot as the surface as the sun. He even began to collect sweat on his forehead, and down his spine.

He moved his hips against hers, dipping his head into the curve of her neck, laying soft kisses there. She tensed beneath him, and it caused his hips to falter just a bit, his cock twitching within her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, and was able to take him deeper. He felt like his arms would give out from holding himself up with the way she twitched and moved her hips against his. The way his tip hit her cervix was making him tense. He felt her lips on his neck again, and he gripped the blanket beneath them so much his knuckles turned white with pressure. 

“God- goddamn.” he huffed against her skin, and he could feel her grin against his skin, laying a soft kiss on the side of his neck.

“God has nothing to do with us.” she said quietly, and he nodded, feeling like he was going to combust. His movements got more erratic, more frantic, the couch shifting beneath them as Joel continued his assault on her body. 

“I’m gonna- fuck-” he choked out, and she kept her legs tightly around him, feeling her heels dig into his ass. 

“It’s okay, baby. Let go.” she whispered, and he could feel the pressure rising in his lower stomach, and then suddenly it was as if a dam had burst. His hot spend began to release in her womb, and he then felt a pinch on his neck, lightheadedness coming over him. 

“It’s alright,” she cooed, and he somehow managed to keep thrusting into her through his high, panting into her neck. He felt warmth run down his shoulder, and her hand moved to his back to keep him against her. Her hand that lay on his neck curled in, keeping him locked in place. 

He didn’t know what came over him, but he turned his face to her neck and bit down. Hard.

She cried out, her body spasming around him and he almost came again, tasting something bitter and of iron on his tongue. Her body convulsed around him, and his hips were slowing down. Her head stayed pressed against his neck, that pain he felt turning into a dull throb. She laid her head back down, and he pulled away to see blood drip onto her chest from his lips. 

He panted, looking down at her as she looked up at him with stars in her eyes, her lips tinged with red that dripped from the corners of her mouth. He leaned down and kissed her there, licking up the liquid and hearing her sigh against him softly. He pulled out of her at last, his spend dripping out of her weeping hole. He collapsed on top of her, but managed to keep one arm up to keep looking at her. Her hand moved to his parted red lips and swiped the blood from his lower lip gently. 

She raised her finger in her mouth and licked, smiling up at him. Her hand moved to touch his cheek, bringing his forehead against hers as he panted, trying so hard to not pass out.

“I have been waiting for you.” she whispered, and he could only look at her in awe. She really was beautiful- exquisite. Ethereal. Divine. Like she didn’t belong amongst unremarkable, average humans.

He wouldn’t know this now, but when the next day would break, things would be different. Very, very different. Almost alarmingly so. 

But for now, he leaned his head into the crook of her neck that still seeped crimson, and pressed his lips there. He sighed, relaxed, and his eyes fell closed with the feeling of her hand moving steadily through his dark curls threaded with silver. 

Comment, like, reblog, anything is appreciated! Divider by @/saradika-graphics!

[alias-main]

Felix: alright kid that’s enough fun. Where’d you say your parent was-

Oswald: who the hell do you think you are!?

Felix:

[starrspice]

Have a Sun, Moon, and a StarrSpice!

I’ve been super busy with work and other stuff in my life so I haven’t had the time energy or motivation to really draw all that much, but with things settling down a bit I decided to stretch my drawing muscles and dive back in

And who better to do that with than sun and Moon? The most drawable boys ever

Very self indulgent but very much needed with the chaos in my life lately

It feels good to be back

[rin-rin-kururin]

imagine naming an aromantic character a name that means love couldn't be ai hoshino-

[qwuilty]

Restless

My beautiful princess who should be in like an amv or something

[thecircleisoverparty]

I closed the logbook. What was the purpose of the artefact our prisoner had?

I looked over at it. It evades any logical explanation at first glance. One could almost say it was ordinary, though the twisted feeling it gave you said otherwise. What is this used for? Why did he struggle when we took this from him? It must have been important to him if he fought to keep it.

White seared my vision the moment I had touched it.

What is this? What could this be used for?

I needed to talk with him. I need to understand why.

Stumbling out of my quarters, I went belowdecks, just barely acknowledging my crew. I knew they all have questions, surely about the Helena's sinking, and about the prisoner we captured.

The prisoner faced me when I stepped off the ladder.

"About time I met with someone," he said.

"You knew I would come to you?"

"Just thought someone would come asking questions. The artefact does start warping your mind."

I didn't have a response to that. The artefact's effects must have shown on my face, or that he knew from experience with it.

The man stood and reached through the bars at me.

"You will understand better than I can. The most I know is that it's extremely valuable, but I don't know who it's valuable for."

"Did- Were you sent to retrieve it?"

"Yes. I shouldn't have, but you know how it is when the money gets tight."

"All too well, I'm afraid."

There were a few stiff moments of silence between us.

"Who hired you to get the artefact?" I asked. "Who told you about it?"

"Don't remember exactly who sent the letter," he said, "but they were an associate of a Mr. de Montfaucon."

That was certainly a lead. Maybe he will give us answers about what exactly this artefact is.

I turned back toward the ladder. "That's all I have for now."

The prisoner sighed. "I hope it won't get too late for you."

"When is too late?"

"When you start hearing the whispers. They come quick, they did for me."

"I'll keep note of it."

What voices did he hear? What voices is he hearing? I hope I don't reach that point. I won't let myself.

[shomatoriashi]

12/27/24; 10:00am

{ 18+ drabbles / headcanons }

[ nightly rendezvous ]

featuring: sylus, zayne, xavier, rafayel

notes: lmao i’m going to try my best to get everyone’s card, but if it doesn’t happen, at least i can say i wrote the appropriate drabbles for my fave lads men (⺣◡⺣)♡ this is nowhere close to canon and is just written for my own, self-indulgence ♡ this is currently an unedited mess of a thirst post, but i'll make any necessary changes when this is posted.

warnings: blood mention in rafayel's.

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

seeing your form in such a tight dress was doing things to sylus, making his mind go hazy as a considerable tent was seen against the front of his dress pants-

which put a considerable damper on his plans.

there was party going on tonight to celebrate the new year, however, just seeing your delectable form dressed in such pretty silk made him think of other plans to tend to. as you brush back your hair, sylus steps closer to you, planting his lips against the side of your neck while huskily whispering your name.

"i've changed my mind. perhaps we can stay inside instead." you tremble, feeling the way sylus slides his hand down your form, tracing at your figure as you were left clinging to the edge of the bathroom counter.

"what do you mean, sy?" a shiver runs through you when he presses a lingering kiss against your temple, "what i mean is... i would much rather keep you here with me, where i ravish you on our bed instead of spending our time surrounded by a crowd."

a gasp manages to escape from your parted lips when sylus carries you within his powerful embrace, forcing your arms to wrap around his neck when he holds your high heels with his free hand. the mere sight of his dilated eyes and labored breathing causes a new wave of desire to course through you, causing you to lean forward as you pressed a series of kisses against the base of his throat.

you could feel the vibrations of his rich laughter against your lips as he gently grips at your waist, "if you don't wish to lie down, we better make the most of our time before dawn."

arriving at his bedroom, he tosses aside your heels while settling himself against a chair, pulling you into his lap while delving his fingers into your hair. heat courses through your veins when you felt his clothed erection brushing against your inner thigh. the sudden friction causes you to bite down on your bottom lip as you settle yourself directly over him, grinding your stained panties against his erection.

another rich chuckle fills your ears, and you found yourself giving in to sylus's own desires, not even caring about the party as you sought your own release. your lover continues to coax you, bringing your body impossibly closer to his when his lips crashes into yours in a searing kiss. "you really don't want me to leave, do you?" he murmurs against your lips, making you let out a shuddering breath in response.

your moans echo throughout the room, allowing sylus's desperate kiss to further fuel the ache between your legs. he delves his tongue within you, tasting you fully while standing back to his full height. he doesn't break his connection with you, blindly taking you to bed as he falls with you against the plush mattress.

sylus was the first to pull away from the kiss, his smirk growing ever so slightly at the sight of your swollen lips left in the wake of his passionate kiss. he traces at your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, saying your name with an amused chuckle as he slides up the fabric of your dress. "you haven't changed your mind, have you...?"

words failed you, and you could only manage to give him a mere shake of your head, feeling his large hand cup at your knee before spreading your legs fully for him. without removing your dress, a sly expression was seen on his face when he manages to grip at the waistband of your panties before pulling it down with one, swift motion.

his actions makes your breathing hitch, with your hands gripping at the sheets below you. hunger paints his every expression when he unbuttons his dress shirt while adjusting his pants. "looks like i can't hold back any longer, kitten."

never once breaking eye contact with you, you gasp the moment sylus pushes his cock deep inside of you, the squelching sounds of your walls clenching around him causes red hot pleasure to blossom throughout your very veins. his pace was slow, yet oh so steady and powerful that you could feel each and every inch of him. his shaft purposely brushes against your hardened clit, making your soft mewls turn into cries of desperation for him.

and when sylus kept you in his bed, you willingly welcomed in the new year by getting impaled over and over again by the man you have always loved.

zayne's eyes darkened, watching you converse with his male colleagues as he felt the tendrils of envy slowly taking a hold of his heart.

when he invited you as his plus one for this conference, all he wanted was to keep you by his side at all times. yet the moment he had to leave to discuss some matters with the other physicians-

they had to surround you, like vultures getting their taste of fresh meat.

adjusting his glasses, zayne takes quick strides towards you, standing protectively in front of you while stiffly telling the other man, "she's with me."

he doesn't wait for the other man to respond, simply whisking you away from the ballroom as you struggled to keep up with his steps. your confused cries of his name falls on deaf ears as zayne wraps his arms around your frame, choosing to carry you bridal style when he enters the elevators. a strange sense of urgency fills him when he hits the button leading to his floor where all he could think about was erasing that man's casual touch-

running on autopilot, zayne quickly swipes his key card and enters his room before slamming the door shut. once he was alone with you, he pins you against the desk, the jealousy felt burning through his veins as it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "you belong to me, you know that, right?"

his hand grips at your chin, meeting your captivating gaze as you give him a simple nod, "of course, always- but why are you so-"

you gasp when he leans forward, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. zayne knew that this wasn't his typical behavior, yet when it came to you (always always always you) he couldn't stop himself. he allows the tip of his tongue to trace at the border of your lips, diving inside the moment you opened up for him.

when the need for air proves to be too much, the man reluctantly pulls away first, lips already latching on to your shoulder while telling you, "i'll admit there's something undeniably addictive about stepping out of line..."

with a click of his tongue, he takes off his glasses before shamelessly breathing in your scent, basking in the way your body trembles oh so sweetly for him with anticipation. as if drunk off of your mere presence, he trails kisses down your body, lingering against your heaving breasts as he nuzzles his face against your skin, "because of you... everything is spiraling out of control."

he feels the way your body writhes beneath him, becoming dimly aware of your words when you tell him, "zayne, i can't think straight... y-you probably had too much to drink-" a gasp manages to escape from you the moment he cups the area between your legs, feeling his fingertips explore the dampness stained against your panties.

"are you trying to escape? you keep saying that i'm drunk. so, must i always stay sober?" zayne shakes his head while letting out a bitter laugh. "as if i could ever stay sober while in your presence."

he suddenly carries you toward the bedroom, forcing your arms to wrap around his neck to help with steadying yourself. "this is all your doing... did you want to see me like this? all needy and desperate for you?"

with the bed in sight, zayne settles you at the edge of it. your eyes refused to look away from him when he takes off the rest of his clothes as he allows the fabric to fall to the ground. your throat turns dry, seeing his proud erection settled between his legs as your walls clenched almost painfully with need in response.

you allow zayne's large hands to grip at the fabric of your dress, sliding it off of you while leaving you bare except for your heels that was left hanging by your ankles. with a reverent touch, zayne frames at your face before completely sheathing himself inside of your slick folds, moving deep inside of you with an expertise of a man who was achingly obsessed with you.

the force of his movements makes your heaving breasts bounce in response, feeling his cock invade every inch of you as you kept on crying out to him. taking advantage of his own strength, zayne grips at your backside to thrust into you even further, basking in the silky feel of your walls wrapped so tightly around him.

"you're mine..." zayne repeats that single phrase over and over again throughout the night, never once stopping as you were given little choice but to surrender yourself to his every desire.

xavier couldn't contain himself the moment you both came home from the new years eve party held by the association-

everything about you set his heart aflame. from your kind smile to the beautiful dress that hugged your form-

xavier was completely obsessed with you. desire was felt coursing through his veins, yet he had to behave and act cordial throughout the party, allowing you to catch up with friends while eating the delicious catering provided at the party.

but now that he manages to convince you to come home with him, he was ready to pounce on you, to trap you in his arms as he kept you with him until he was satisfied.

becoming dimly aware of your attempts at banter with him, xavier simply basks in the sweet sounds of your voice before allowing his hands to grip at your knees. "don't move... and don't say a word."

he gestures at you to lay back against his bed all while pulling your legs closer to him. "uhm... xavier, what are you... doing?"

xavier simply hums while spreading your legs, "you know what i'm about to do, starlight." once your thighs were spread for him, he grips at your panties and slides them off of you, allowing them to hang precariously against your ankles before kneeling in front of you. he breathes in the sweet scent of your center before surging forward, allowing his tongue to trace at your pussy lips.

you cried out to him, forcing yourself to keep quiet as you bit down at the back of your hand. xavier's tongue was felt traveling inside of your slick heat, drawing out even more of your arousal. your thighs automatically trap him against your heat, feeling the way you shamelessly grind on his face, trying to reach your high.

yet the moment xavier pinches at your swollen clit, you lost control of all of your senses, climaxing into his awaiting mouth. your boyfriend drinks up everything you had to offer with a grunt of your name, and you successfully became putty in his hands.

a dazed expression was seen on your face when xavier picks you up, carrying you towards the wall before pressing your front against it. a low hiss escapes from your parted lips when you felt the cold seep into you, further hardening your nipples when you heard the shifting of fabric coming from behind you. you look off to the side, only to let out a breathless moan when you felt xavier's cock enter you from this new angle.

he thrusts the entirety of his cock in and out of you at a rapid pace, fucking you into the wall as you saw stars with each new movement. trembling at all of the sensations that invade you each time xavier's hips met with yours, you nearly fell to the ground had it not been for xavier's tight grip around your waist.

"you feel so good..." his hot whisper was settled against your ear as tears of pleasure cascades down your cheeks, with xavier kissing every salty droplet away before admitting to you, "and it looks like i won't be easily satisfied tonight..."

"this is my room, you're the one that walked in here." his powerful arms were felt wrapped around your waist, bringing you impossibly closer to him when he whispers in your ear, "so, you'll take responsibility for whatever happens, right?"

rafayel was completely correct in his assumptions, that you had willingly come into his room with the sole purpose of seducing him.

something about his casual smile seen during the whole exhibit made a surge of yearning course through you, being captivated by his every movement. your gaze never once strayed too far away from him, as your mind kept fantasizing of ways to get him beneath you-

yet it seemed like your fantasies were quick to become a reality when rafayel crashes his lips against yours in a passionate kiss. you moan at the sensation, opening up to him only to playfully bite against his bottom lip. a gasp was heard coming from the lemurian, with him moving away from you to touch at his bottom lip.

a single droplet of blood was seen forming against his lip as a devilish thought comes to you. with a soft giggle, you lean forward to press another chaste kiss against his lips all while licking that single droplet away, earning a groan from him as you pulled away.

"what a naughty princess you are." he manages to whisper against your ear before tightly wrapping his arms around you, leading you towards the bed while keeping you pressed against him. you hear him letting out a hum of your name, settling you on his lap while giving you a series of playful kisses against your lips.

once.

twice.

then three times-

his kisses were no heavier than dew, leaving you wanting for more each time-

your hands shakily frame at his face, with your eyes narrowed in response before managing to push him back against the bed. his dress shirt remains open for you, and you could see the insignia glowing a faint, orange hue against his chest. rafayel meets your gaze through his thick lashes, allowing your lips to perfectly slot against his in a deep kiss that conveyed your hunger for him.

you kept kissing him, not stopping even when the need for air was burning through your lungs. you couldn't bring yourself to pull away from him, allowing his hands to delve into your hair before suddenly shifting you once more, leaving your back pressed against the bed with rafayel now hovering over you.

"i've changed my mind..." he places a lingering kiss at the back of your hand before breaking what appeared to be a silver bracelet, tossing it aside while settling himself between your legs, "i'm not going anywhere."

the ache felt between your legs becomes even more prominent, watching rafayel's every movement when he adjusts the fabric of his pants, freeing his cock as he worked on stroking himself to full hardness. neither of you were thinking clearly, and when you felt his large hand move your panties to the side before quickly impaling you-

your back arches against the bed in response, allowing rafayel to use your body for his own pleasure. you felt each and every swift pound against you, the sounds of your walls eagerly taking him in each time his hips met with your own was enough to make your juices surround him before staining at the sheets below you.

achingly aware of each and every response your body had to him, rafayel shakes his head while his hands grip at the sheets next to you. "fuck- this feels too good, way too good than normal." as if getting drunk off of the pleasure you were giving him, rafayel takes a hold of one of your legs before tossing it over his shoulder. with this new position, rafayel was felt reaching even deeper inside of you as you were certain your pleasure had increased by the tenfold as the tip of his cock was felt hitting that special spot over and over again, making you lost count the amount of times you had released yourself on him-

needless to say, you didn't get much sleep that night.

end notes: girlies.... all of my lads girlies.... HOW ARE WE FEELING AFTER THE REVEAL OF THAT BANNER HHHHHHH??? 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

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

[martiniblues]

JUNO , spencer reid

pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader

synopsis while babysitting henry for jj, spencer’s seeming disinterest with children starts to shift. this makes your mind wonder into unfamiliar territory you and spencer hadn’t spoken of yet: kids.

genre talks of pregnancy and children (duh), very suggestive towards the end but no smut, this is very self indulgent since i can’t get this song or spencer off my mind so here you go lol.

wc 2k?? (i got a little carried away)

“sorry for this being so last minute!" jj scrambled, passing henry over to you along with his diaper bag. the blonde ran a hand through her short hair, adjusting from where the two-year-old played with it upon their arrival. 

“it’s all good, seriously. you know how much i love babysitting this cute thing.” you tickled henry’s side, making him squirm. 

jj’s eyes averted to the figure behind you, pursing her lips. “you sure he’s okay with this?” you turned your head, noticing spencer trying to look at the two of you without being noticed. 

it’s not that spencer didn’t like kids; it’s just hard to know how to talk to them when you were a child genius. 

you turned back to jj, attempting to ease her worry. “he’ll come around to it.” you shrugged, knowing that spencer would either sit and observe or fully engage. no in between.

after bidding your goodbyes, you walked over to spencer, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “so what should we do, little man?” you perched henry in your lap, resting your feet on the coffee table so he could sit against your perched thighs. 

spencer looked at you as if he were the “little man” in question. henry just babbled, throwing his arms around as you cooed. “what do we do with him?” spencer asked, leaning closer into your shoulder to inspect the baby in your lap. 

you laughed at his seriousness, turning to look at your boyfriend. “have you never been around a baby in your life or something?” you teased, lifting henry so he was closer to you both.

“did you know that babies are born with about seventy reflexes? that’s why when you place a baby on a surface to stand, they automatically start doing a stepping motion.” he spoke, watching henry kick his legs as you stood him on your lap. you looked over at him quizzically. “for someone who’s so awkward around babies, you sure do know a lot about them.” 

spencer flushed slightly, “i just haven’t had the chance to be around any until now.” he nudges your shoulder before crossing his arms. 

“well, here’s your chance.” you held henry out to spencer, which made him squirm and mumble yet again. “hold him while i go bring his bag in here.” 

he hesitated, looking between you and the baby as if this were a test. yet, despite the nervousness, he reached out, mimicking your position earlier. when you were content with how henry laid on spencer’s legs, you walked out of the room.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposely take your time collecting his things, wanting spencer to have some alone time with henry. finally satisfied with your departure, you peaked your head into the room, nearly melting at the sight. 

the once stiff and nervous spencer you had left with henry was now replaced with a content, smiling one. his voice went up a few pitches as he responded to henry’s nonsense. “oh wow, really?” his lips were pulled into a smile as he played with him, letting henry’s small hand encase his slender fingers. 

you couldn’t help but let your head wander; how could you not? sure you thought about a future with spencer. a future where you were married and maybe with kids, but you had never brought it up being too nervous to scare spencer off.

but now watching him light up with henry in his lap, you wanted nothing more than for your daydreams to become reality. 

“someone wants you back in here, i think.” you snapped out of your daze, focusing on the two sets of eyes staring at you. both holding the same smiles and wide eyes. 

god, you swore you felt your ovaries jump.

“i see that you two are getting along now.” you placed henry’s diaper bag on the table, sitting yourself on the ground before laying out his blanket and a few toys. spencer joined you, placing henry on his stomach, then laid beside you, mirroring the baby’s position. 

“who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?” you laughed, in awe of how much spencer had adjusted to the small being in just a matter of minutes.

he looked up at you as he shook a little plushie in front of henry’s face. “sorry to disappoint, but this is still your boyfriend,” spencer quipped before you pushed his head jokingly, messing up his hair in the process. 

the sound of high-pitched squeals took both of your attentions away from one another. there henry lay, clapping his hands in favor of you and spencer’s playful fighting. 

“yeah, you like when i show him who’s boss, huh?” you caressed the soft skin of henry’s cheek, making him giggle. spencer sighed, “come on, man, i thought we were really becoming friends” he exasperated, laying his head in his hands dramatically.

this only brought more squeals from the baby, making your cheeks almost grow sore from how hard you were smiling. 

“awe spence, it’s okay.” you egged on your act by petting his hair back into place. this caused your boyfriend to lift his head; a big pout on his lips made yours perk up. 

with your attention being taken away from henry by spencer’s rare expression, you hadn’t noticed the stuffed animal caught between the baby’s hands. before you could do anything, the small bear was chucked into spencer’s face, causing an uproar of noises from henry.

“i’m starting to question this whole babysitting thing.” spencer winced, looking at you as you laughed along with henry. 

 

despite the teasing from earlier, spencer continued to be enamored with henry. him even insisting he help feed and change him when time came.

the whole ordeal feeling so domestic, apart of you wished jj could have spent a couple more days for her and will in favor of you seeing spencer like this for longer.

“thank you, again for taking care of him.” jj propped her hip against the counter as she fumbled for her phone out of her purse.

“of course, it really was no problem.” you turned at the sound of spencer’s soft voice, thanking henry for “helping” him clean.

“honestly, i think someone enjoyed this a bit more than we thought.” you gestured at spencer as he settled henry on his hip, the baby grasping onto his button-up shirt. 

your whole body ran hot at sight. spencer looked really good as a pretend dad. 

“no kidding, the team is going to flip when i show them the pictures you took of them.” she glanced at her phone, noting the off-guard photos you stole of spencer and henry. 

one was of him feeding him as he walked around the living room, another of him explaining some of the books organized on his shelves in a very formal fashion despite henry’s lack of knowledge, and finally one of them eye-to-eye playing on the floor with various toys. 

your heart swelled looking back at them, the questions you had been so careful not to ask begging to be verbalized. 

before you could sink any further, spencer came over, handing jj henry and his bag almost reluctantly. noticing the time, jj was quick to leave in order to keep the baby’s sleeping schedule on track but thanked you guys repeatedly before finally closing the door. 

clicking the lock shut, you mentally prepared yourself for the words about to come out of your mouth. 

“you had more fun than you bargained for, didn’t you?” you met spencer on the couch, him reaching out to pull your legs over his, making your heart leap. 

“i did, actually.” spencer began smoothing his hands up and down your calf before continuing. “honestly when you mentioned henry coming over, i was a little- i don’t know scared? i just didn’t want to disappoint him or you.” he bit his lip like he was stopping himself from letting the whole truth out. 

“oh spence, you were perfect. honestly, i’m very proud of you.” you reached out, caressing the side of his face, causing him to look at you. 

he noticed your wondering eyes, waiting for you to continue. “actually i um…” you shifted pulling your legs under yourself so you could sit up. 

breathing in deeply, you continued, “today kind of got me thinking about us and our future.” spencer was looking at you with such admiration that you had fixed your gaze on your hands.

“i know we haven’t really brought it up before, but seeing you and henry today had me-“ 

before you could finish, spencer’s lips were pressed against yours, resulting in a shocked gasp from you. he kissed you, mumbling words each time his lips parted to take yours in again. 

“i want that, i really do.” he breathed, finally separating from you for just a moment. 

“you want what, spence?” you were in shock, to be honest, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it word for word. 

without another word, he positioned you in his lap, legs straddling his own. “i want a family with you. i want a sliver of what we had today to become ours one day.” his eyes didn’t break from yours, his pupils blown wide and sparkly.

for the thousandth time that day, you had to bite back a smile. “you mean that?” you questioned, one hand coming to comb through his hair and the other resting on his neck. 

he kissed your cheek, forehead, nose, and finally your lips before he spoke. “every single one. i mean, one of you is cute.” he cupped your cheek as he spoke. “but two though? that’s something.” he finished, smirking at you. 

you couldn’t contain your happiness, crashing his lips to yours again feverishly. even though you knew the both of you were in no place to have a kid now, there was no harm in playing with the fantasy for now. 

even if the real thing wouldn’t come to be for a good few years.

spencer pulled you flush against him, one his hands leaving your hips to trail up your spine and settle onto the back of your neck. a moan slipped past your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. 

you pulled on his shirt, hinting at where this was going as if it weren’t obvious to the man beneath you. he looked up at you, kissing you once more before dragging you to your shared bed. 

your blouse and shorts were off before your back hit the sheets, spencer still standing ahead of you unbuttoning his work shirt. 

you sat up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to take over. after each undone button, you kissed his skin, making him gasp as his fingers raked through your hair. 

pulling his shirt all the way off, you made your way to his pants, pulling him closer by his belt loop. you bit your lip, noticing the gears turning in his head.

“you know statistics say missionary or doggy are the best positions to get pregnant in.” spencer let out in shallow breaths as his belt clinked on the floor. 

“oh, yeah and why is that genius?” you leaned back on your elbows while spencer finished removing himself of his pants. he took you in, the tiny pink bow on your underwear made spencer rethink his crude response. 

“deeper penetration,” he said almost too smoothly, making you laugh. it was hard to take statistics seriously when you were both nearly naked. 

before he could settle above you, you shimmied up the bed. ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you positioned yourself on your hands. looking over your shoulder, you saw the way spencer’s eyes widened in shock.

“have you ever tried this one?”

my first spencer fic omg. lowk crazy because i’ve been obsessed with this man since the ripe age of 12 but here we are. will probably be writing a lot more of him since im rewatching cm at the moment so stay tuned! request box is always open <333

[sttoru]

·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. your stressed lover comes home from a long day of work and finds you asleep. he can’t help but wake you up in a rather special way.

wc. 1.6k total

tags. dom!jjk men x sub!female reader (gojo, toji, sukuna). smut. general warnings: dark content — somnophilia (consensual). size difference because im self indulgent ; reader gets referred to as small. ehm they’re kinda depicted as perverts. rest of the warnings are given before each character.

GOJO SATORU; cw. cunnilingus. fingering. he’s a bit whiny. nicknames used ‘princess, sweets’. he cums untouched lol.

“mm, fuck. look at my sweet princess,” satoru sighs under his breath. he’s welcomed home by the sight of you sleeping peacefully on the bed, your hips lifted a bit as you rest on your stomach.

satoru’s voice is shaky as he mutters something to himself. he carefully sits on the edge of the bed, trembling fingers reaching out to trace the shape of your plump ass. he can’t not touch you—especially when you present yourself so nicely to him.

it isn’t long before his fingers dip under the material of your shorts. satoru gauges your reaction to his advances and notices the corners of your lips twitching. a sign you’re unconsciously feeling his warm touch.

“fuckfuckfuck. ‘m sorry, princess — i have to.”

satoru gives up any self-control that he had left. he doesn’t waste any time pulling down your shorts and panties to your knees. his already erect cock twitches in his pants at the beautiful scene; your wet cunt in all its glory.

he clenches his fists, desperately trying not to do anything. that determination does not last long.

in just a second, satoru’s already lapping up your juices, his hands firmly holding your hips still. his nails dig into your flesh and he moans once he feels your body instinctively pushing back against his mouth.

“mm, s’rry,” the sorcerer whines in a muffled voice. he knows you’re awake by now—judging purely by the increase of your little moans of pleasure. his tongue doesn’t stop moving between your spread folds, tasting you until your thighs are spasming.

you’re confused when you’ve awoken to a tingly sensation between your legs, though you quickly put two and two together. you’re too lazy to comment on satoru’s sudden actions, only babbling a soft ‘welcome home’ between whimpers.

satoru’s breath hitches the moment you tell him those words. those sweet words. like you don’t mind that he’s dragged you out of your slumber this way. it’s such a turn on—your acceptance to what he’s doing.

“yeah? oh god,” satoru’s nose bumps against your slit each time he moves his jaw, lewdly slurping the fluid your pussy produces. he can feel his dick throbbing against his pants, begging to be released, “ngh, can’t—gonna cum, sweets.”

your lover’s desperate whines make your fingers curl around the bedsheets. the sole image of him cumming in his pants just from eating you out pushes you over the edge as well.

you reach your climax at the same time. satoru lolls his tongue out to catch your juices, moaning loudly against your puffy folds as he feels it trickling into his mouth. he can feel a wet spot forming on the fabric of his boxers, “shit.”

the white-haired man removes himself from behind you, licking his lips for any residue. you lazily look over your shoulder at him with glazed over eyes. his big hands are already working on his belt and zipper.

satoru shows you the dark spot in his underwear and pouts, “ah, look what you’ve done to me, princess—made a mess out of my favourite boxers b’cause of you.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI; cw. tiny hint of implied age gap (reader early 20’s, toji early 30’s). p in v -> unprotected. spooning position. reader gets called ‘little girl, slut, whore’. degradation / objectification.

toji kicks his shoes off and makes a beeline towards his bedroom. he’s in a shitty mood after he had met up with a rude client. despite that, his lips curl up into a faint smile the moment he sees you laying on his bed.

“heh, there’s my little girl,” his voice is raspy, hoarse and utterly exhausted. the older man climbs under the covers and wraps his strong arms around your small figure. he nuzzles his nose into your hair, breathing in the nice smell of your shampoo.

toji wouldn’t be him if his hands didn’t wander all over your skin. his rough palms squeeze everywhere and anywhere—enjoying the feeling of your soft flesh in them. you subconsciously react to his touches by pushing your body back against his.

“. .do not,” toji hisses like you can hear him. he was already half hard on his way home as the thoughts of you clouded his mind, but now that he’s actually with you, he’s fully aroused. especially with your ass pushing back at his aching bulge.

he’s too lazy to get up and get himself off in the shower. thus, he starts off by humping the fat of your ass. the friction isn’t enough for the assassin and therefore he switches to the real thing.

“such a slutty fuckin’ thing. can’t keep my hands off ya,” toji groans into your ear, half hoping you’d hear all the dirty things he’s calling you. your pants are pulled down and your panties are pushed to the side—making way for his fat cock to drill into you.

your impatient lover adjusts your legs so he could have easier access to your tight cunt. the slow strokes inside you make you squirm and tighten up around his throbbing erection. this only riles toji up more.

“hah, y’can feel it even in y’r sleep, can’t you? my cock stretching your tight pussy out—my pussy,” toji corrects himself with a low moan. his warm breath hits the nape of your neck, his hands fondling you whilst he thrusts aggressively.

he doesn’t care if you wake up or not. he’s going to use your delicious body to relieve himself. you gave him the green light when he asked you if he could fuck you in your sleep when he needs it. so, there’s no reason to stop now.

you eventually jolt awake once the continuous stimulation become too much. if it wasn’t for toji’s hand on your mouth, you’d have woken up the neighbours with your loud and lewd moans.

toji scoffs. he keeps a tight grip on your face and thigh, not stopping the rough pounding he’s giving you. he sees your eyes roll back from the unexpected pleasure and he snickers.

his lips connect with yours, muffling your moans that way;

“hah, seems like you needed this as much as i did—waking up ‘n already moaning like a whore. missed me that much, huh?”

SUKUNA RYOMEN; cw. true form!sukuna. has two cocks woops. masturbation (m). turns into blowjob. hairpulling. reader gets called ‘brat’.

sukuna returns to his chambers. finally, after dealing with some sorcerers that’ve had challenged him for a battle. he’s tense, sweaty and obviously in need to blow off some steam. he knows just where to get said relief.

sukuna’s red eyes instantly spot your sleeping form on the middle of his kingsized bed. his favourite little human—resting without a care in the world. the innocent sight is one that sets his loins on fire.

“oi, brat,” the male speaks up as he sits on his side of the bed. the mattress dips to one side due to his huge form, causing your small body to automatically manoeuvre his way. you don’t seem to stir nor wake.

you’ve gotten used to sukuna’s demanding voice to the point that it doesn’t scare you anymore. he smacks his lips in frustration. guess he’ll take care of his problem himself for now.

low grunts fill the spacious room—sukuna’s head lolls back against the headboard whilst two of his hands move swiftly on his now exposed cocks. his sharp eyes are focused on your body, shamelessly checking you out. from the cleavage of your breasts, your clothed cunt to your perfect parted lips; all of you is turning him on.

“fuck, can’t believe this. .” sukuna curses under his breath. he can’t believe how weak he is for you. how his cocks throb and leak drops of pre-cum from just the sight of you sleeping. fully clothed at that.

whilst one set of his hands is busy touching himself, the other reaches out to grope your body. one hand on your chest and one on your ass. of course, sukuna doesn’t pass on the opportunity of smacking the soft flesh.

“i said get up,” sukuna clicks his tongue and tries to wake you again. this time you do actually wake up. a short, inaudible whine leaving your lips. you take a few seconds to process the view in front of you; your lover with both his thick cocks out, pre-cum making the lengths glimmer under the light of the lamp.

it got you horny. immediately. you slowly crawl over between his legs, like you know just what to do. sukuna raises an eyebrow—surprised by your lack of questioning. he’s amused at how fast you took the hint.

“that’s it. you’re learning fast,” sukuna sighs deeply the moment your lips wrap around his upper dick. your small hand jerks off the lower one. both stimulations at once makes the man beneath you grunt in satisfaction.

you still are and look extremely drowsy, though your devotion to sukuna knows no bounds. even in your half-asleep state. the king of curses pats your head—a surprisingly appreciative and loving gesture that he rarely does.

you bob your head carefully, not wanting to gag too much. however, the pace you set is too slow for sukuna who’s waited way too long to fuck you. in any way.

he bucks his hips—thrusting upwards into your hot mouth. his strong hands yank at your hair, keeping you in place as he hears your muffled whimpers of protest. not that he cares; you choking on his fat cock only adds to his pleasure.

“keep it up like that. fuck, where do you want me to cum? in your little mouth? yeahh, you’d like that huh, filthy girl. you’d have to work harder for it if you’re so desperate.”

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FAVORITE CREATORS !!

[hischokehold]

Pretty Please?

older!könig with a pretty girl who won't leave him alone.

"Hello, mister officer." Pretty doe eyes nearly melt in his, tilted up so sweetly just so you could meet his gaze. Arms locked around his, clinging so gently to his biceps like you have been for the past two weeks.

König grumbled, barely taking a glance at you and your provocative outfit, teasing him. "Back for more, little girl? What did I tell you?" He tsks, baby blues barely evading your exposed cleavage pressed up against him.

"To focus on my studies. I am. Swear I am. Aced my exams, don't I deserve a reward?" You hummed, though he found your words rather hard to believe when you were so obviously checking him out.

You've been getting bold recently, haven't you, liebling?

It all started with a simple encounter, really; with König saving your drunken state from a group of men in his local bar. The perfect damsel in distress. He had pulled you by his hip, dragging you to the nearest bench to slip your glittery high heels right back into your feet. It was one of the rare moments where the colonel wasn't in the front lines. Still, he found himself a little pastime, using his influence to do some shady deals in the city's biggest club.

He didn't exactly expect to have such a cute thing clinging to him.

After a few minutes of listening to your rambling, cooing at you, König finally called you a cab and sent you off. A nice encounter, that's all it was.

Until he found you and your little self began throwing yourself at him almost every night, practically begging for his attention. "Just wanted to thank you for last time," You pout, batting your lashes at him. "Can't I do that?"

You could still see the remnants of blues in his knuckles from beating those bastards to a pulp. His big hands pat the small of your back in a reprimanding manner, shamefully reminding you that you were smitten by a man who you met barely a week ago.

"A thank you would suffice, darling."

König stood his ground. He had morals— what little he has left anyways. You're pretty, no doubt about that. He knew he shouldn't be taking advantage of such a fragile girl. But at the end of the day, he's just a man. Surely, you knew what would happen if you provoked him too much with your womanly charms?

"Y'shouldn't be playing around with men like me, little girl." He drawls, accent thick as he lightly taps your soft cheeks. Something clicked in you at the mention of the rather degrading pet name, pupils fully blown as you nodded at his every word, unable to register anything anymore.

An "I like you." comes from your plump, glossed up lips before you could even control it. Your 100th confession this week alone. Many would call you shameless and maybe you'd feel an ounce of it if you weren't so busy eyeing up his bulging biceps through his tight-fitted polo shirt.

He's intense, you think. And he makes you painfully shy.

"Hm?" He tilts his head, and he's so handsome, and gruff, and big that he has your mind spinning around in circles and doing backflips. Soft brows furrow as brutish hands cup your cheeks, lips puckering up into a small 'o'.

The tip of his tongue swipes down his lips while he indulges in the sight. A pretty girl, a young thing looking up at him all stupid and dazed out. Begging for an older man's attention. "How naughty." He tugs you closer, puffing cigarette smoke all over your pretty face, leaving coughing from the sudden intrusion in your nostrils.

He chuckles darkly, lightly patting the small of your back. "Be a good girl and run along, ja?" He flicks his cig to the side, putting its flame out with a stomp.

"N-No! please," you breathe, manicured fingertips finding your way to his belt, slithering along the lines. His eyes never leave yours, darkening as you inch closer to his manhood, leaving you dizzied.

There's hurried chattering in the background, a scantily clad group of three wore worried expressions on their faces, calling out your name.

"Ah, your friends are here, darling." You don't even have time to respond before he's nudging you out the dark alley, sending you off your merry wya but not before giving your rear a little slap.

"And keep that backside lookin' pretty for me."

[jensthwa]

show & tell pt. 2 (SMG x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

After the… masterclass you gave Mingi the night before, you’re left anxious on what the future holds for you both. But there’s a pool party you promised you would attend and there’s not really time for you to figure your feelings out before your best friend shows up at your door to drive you to it. So maybe today is not the day to figure your feelings out, right? It’s just a pool party anyways, so nothing out of the ordinary is going to happen… right?

PAIRING: best friend!mingi x afab reader.

GENRE: childhood best friends (idiots) to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 11k.

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) anxiety attack, attempt !!! at comedy, wooyoung being a little shit part two ft jongho, a new oc being the voice of reason, reader is clueless and in denial i fear, jealousy, miscommunication, fighting so this part is just a tiny bit angsty :(, confessions, teasing, face sitting, hand job, car sex (don't do it in public people, it can get you arrested), pet names (love and baby), a plot line at the end none of you guys are going to get until my new wip drops but it's worth the wait!

NOTES: hey everyone! thank you so much for patiently waiting for this second and last part to drop. i think that, after this one, if you guys want to request any drabbles or if i come up with some scenarios for this couple i will post them but for now nothing is on the works. what is on the works is a wip that's part of the same universe as this one, so pay attention to the new characters i mention if you want any clues! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: july 28th 2024.

TAGLIST (sorry if i forgot anyone, pls let me know!): @vannerriin / @mingtinysworld / @purple-bell / @bakepotatoman / @nxy3h / @taehyungmami / @nxcxllxsevens / @breadpuddingboys / @hotteokkay

masterlist.

When you wake the next morning, the consequences of restless sleep show up in your face as a reminder of what happened the night before. 

It's not that you regret it, it's more the fact that you feel so unapologetic about messing with the perfect dynamic you have with Mingi that caused you to toss and turn so much. 

Last night, after putting your duvet back on and then crashing into the mattress feeling all tingly and giddy, you asked yourself a thousand questions. 

The main one being: What the fuck did you do? 

The words kept repeating over and over in your head, your voice of reason (or your anxiety) screaming at you to get your phone and make it right before everything becomes a complicated, unresolvable mess. 

You had a brief moment of panic and heavy breathing, your chest tight with unspoken emotion and your eyes filled with tears. 

It was too much, so you forced yourself up and paced around for what felt like hours trying to get your feet back on the ground. Nothing was working, so you sat down at your desk and rested your forehead against it. 

When you didn't feel the usual coolness of the wood, a comfort sensation for when your studies got the best out of you for the day, and instead felt a pen almost stab you in the eye, you -very confused- leaned back. 

Mingi’s notebook and the pen he didn't put back on the pencil case seemed to stare back at you lovingly instead of mocking you for losing control over your own emotions. 

A sense of peace washed over you when you flipped the pages and landed on the instructions he wrote down. Memories of the amazing years you have had by his side started crossing your mind, like recomforting flashes that allowed your heartbeat to go back to normal: 

The first day you saw Mingi, chasing behind a worn out soccer ball and then kicking it so hard it landed on your lawn. 

The first time you two hugged, when your dad scolded you for having bad grades until you cried in front of him. 

The way he held your hand before heading inside to take the college admission exam, last year of highschool. 

His kind eyes. His reassuring smile. The way he made you feel just a few hours back. 

There's no getting rid of me either, love.

We'll figure it out. 

Letting a few contained tears run down your cheeks, you nodded to yourself as if he was there in the room with you. 

Yeah, you'll figure it out.  

And then proceeded to, very much, not figure shit out for the rest of the night. You could still feel his hands everywhere and hear his voice against your ear whispering how much he knows you and pays attention to you. 

You are fucked. 

It's all you can think about when you get ready for the day. It's all you can think about when you help your dad with lunch and when you let your parents know at the table that you are going out that same afternoon. 

“Mingi is driving you, right?” 

“Yeah…” you whisper in response, eyes focused on one specific spot at the table and mind a million years away from the conversation. 

“Good. He's such a good kid, Y/N, I'm glad he knows how to take care of you.” 

Choking on air when your brain finally catches up to her words, you look back up at your mother in shock “W-what?” 

“Yeah honey, what? Y/N can take care of herself,” your father chips in, unaware of your red cheeks or the honest expression of panic you're giving both of them “She's a big girl that carries around that, uh… What was it?— Ah, that pepper spray I gave her, right?” 

“R-right.” 

He lets out a satisfied see? at your answer, gives you a tiny smile and gets up from the table to take his finished plate over to the sink. 

Your mom stays behind, giving you a look you can't quite read before her usual calm expression washes it away. Only then, you can take a proper, very needed, calming breath. 

“I need to get ready. Thank you for the food.” 

“You made it, dear.” 

“I mean! For taking care of the, uh, plates,” you clumsily correct yourself right away, getting up from the table as well “Love you. Bye!” 

You don't miss the confused giggle on your way to your room and when you're behind closed doors, you finally take into consideration that you might be, in fact, overreacting.

Not much, you think, but just enough to give your feelings away. And it's truly a shame, because you were planning on concealing and bottle everything up until it, inevitably, blows up in your face. 

Maybe not the smartest option. 

If you bang your head against the wall with enough force maybe, just maybe it’ll help—

Someone's texting you. 

> gi: heeeeey > gi: just woke up lol > gi: had the best sleep ever tho > gi: how are you, love? 

Okay. So normal texting it is. Maybe your initial plan of just pretending nothing happened is, coincidentally, Mingi’s plan as well. 

So you type in it's literally almost one, ya lazy and let your thumb hover over the send button, eyebrows creased at a sudden realization. 

The casual texting annoys you. 

Sure, Mingi is used to keeping everything casual between him and the people he sleeps with, but you're not just anyone! You didn't sleep together, either! 

Oh, maybe that's why. 

But it ticks you off either way. 

Is he not feeling the same way you do? Did it mean something different for him than it did to you? What did it even mean to you in the first place?

Why, after all the panic you felt the night before, did you have any sort of expectation for today? 

It doesn't make any sense. 

You hit send. 

> gi: aaaaand?  > gi: god forbid a man gets a good night's rest after being thrown off a bed. 

Scoffing, your eyes roll before you can even control it and, to your demise, the giddiness returns. You respond with did you get hurt? awww and raise a hand to your blushed cheek before sending the message.

> gi: yeah wtf  > gi: my butt is all bruised.  > gi: kiss it better? 

Oh. 

Not casual texting. At. All. 

Or maybe it is? 

Ugh.

Blanking on everything Mingi has ever texted you before, you decide it's best to entertain yourself by getting all pretty to sit around the house party tonight and do nothing else instead of torturing your confused brain any longer. 

Using the help of an emoji to flip him off and, hopefully, gather yourself together enough to get ready, you shoot him another text rushing him to do the same because you don't want to be late. 

And he usually takes forever to get ready anyways.

Showering with very cold water, taking a good thirty minutes to decide whether to wear something comfy and fitting or sexy and fitting for the party do the job when it comes to taking your mind off him for, at least, the time being. 

Yunho was insistent the day before in that you didn't need to bring a bathing suit if you didn't want to, but you pack one anyways because you can sense Wooyoung's and Jongho’s intentions even if the youngest couldn't make it to your impromptu gathering yesterday. 

They know you hate when they get away with annoying you and throwing you into the nearest body of water -in this case, Yunho’s pool- in front of many people you don't know (therefore, you are not going to able to go insane mode on them) seems like the perfect opportunity to get away with it.

The last time they did it you weren't really able to scold them properly either, so they laughed and pointed at you until you threatened to kick their asses in a very dishonest but playful way. 

Mingi, of course, did nothing but laugh along with everyone else and then kiss your forehead as an apology later that day. 

That was last summer and since then both perpetrators have treated you to meals and buttered you up enough for you to forgive (as if you didn't do that the morning that followed the incident) but you never forget. 

Maybe you should. It would make the sight of Mingi parking outside your house easier, you think.

You're sure he's parking outside just to give your dad, who comes out to greet him with a hug, some peace of mind. He's very protective of you and he trusts Mingi even if he gives him a hard time everytime he sleeps over or takes you somewhere.  

Like now, you have a very clear view through your window of the sermon he's giving your best friend. You don't hear it but he's moving his hands in the air way too much for it not to be a clear step by step on what to do if you run into any trouble on the way to Yunho's. 

Mingi likes step by step and he's good at following instructions, so you don't think it's going to be an issue. 

God damnit, Y/N, get it together. 

Sighing, you pick up your bag, check your outfit once in front of the mirror, and rush downstairs and out of the door. 

“You do know how to change a tire, son?” 

Mingi is standing in front of your dad with his hands behind his back and a tight smile. 

“Yes sir, my dad taught me and then at the school they made sure I didn't forget about it.” 

“And make sure to—” 

“Could you let the guy breathe, dad?” 

They both turn to, your dad wears a mocking smile and you see Mingi’s tight one breaks into a genuine one a second later. A grateful one, even. 

He looks really good. Which is insane, considering that to you he looked like Chewbacca just yesterday morning. 

Crazy what a good orgasm can do to a person. Or maybe it's the first time you ever let yourself see him in this light. Either way, he's wearing light wash jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clings to him just right and it's going to drive you insane, you can just feel it. 

“I was just making sure that he—” 

“Knows what to do,” you nod “He knows what he's doing, dad. Stop giving him a hard time,” you give your dad a quick kiss on the cheek and then rush to the passenger seat, giving Mingi a glance so he can get in the car as well. 

“Alright. Love you, take care!” 

“Love you too, Mr. L/N!” Mingi says, getting into his seat and giving your dad the opportunity to see when he fastens his seatbelt. He doesn't say anything else, even though he didn't tell Mingi specifically that he loved him and instead gives you both a nod of approval. 

When Mingi finally drives off your street and into the main one, you sigh in relief. 

“He's neeever going to trust me, huh?” 

“He trusts you,” you say right away, cheek resting against the seat so you can take a proper look at him “I'm his only daughter and you're a man after all. Cut him some slack.” 

“He never cuts me some slack!” he fights back but you just laugh and he can't help but join you “You look really good, by the way. A dress? Are you trying to impress someone?” The tone he uses sparks the remaining tension from the night before, like zero time has passed since he kissed you goodnight by your front door. 

When you got into the car with Mingi, you didn't consider that you two would be alone for, at least, forty minutes before getting to your destination. Your mind skipped the fact that he has this new ability to fluster you by just existing near you and you curse it for not letting you prepare well enough for the way he's looking at you right now. 

“Obviously,” you answer in a whisper, clearing your throat a second later “Wooyoung needs to be distracted so he doesn't tackle me into the pool the second we get there. Don't know if it's gonna work on Jongho, though.” 

Mingi clicks his tongue, baring his teeth and pretending to really think about it “I don't think so, love. You'll have to bribe him into considering dropping their whole summer schtick for you.” 

“You can help me with that.” 

“Can I now?” 

“Yeah. You can just… lock him up in a room and my dress can do the rest of the work.” 

Your best friend laughs and then takes a hand off the steering wheel to roll the hem of your dress in between his thumb and index. His knuckles brush against your thigh and you almost -almost- make a noise at the sensation. 

“It's not the dress, love… It's who's wearing it.” 

A bit of silence passes within the both of you. 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

Laughter fills the car and drowns out the honking on the other side of the street and you wonder why you were worried in the first place. 

Nothing has changed. 

Aside from the intention laced with the flirting, it feels the same way it ever did and you couldn't be more glad because now that you know Mingi doesn't hate you (like you thought for a brief moment last night) or wants to hard launch a relationship that doesn't exist to your friends the second he gets them all together in the same room, you can enjoy the car ride and the evening that's about to follow it.

So you flirt with him freely, listen and sing along to songs that just feel like summer summarized in three minutes of exquisite writing and roll your window down once Mingi takes a turn into a hill, trees replacing the buildings you're so used to seeing. 

Your friend is rich rich. His family makes good money and his parents go on lots of business trips. That being said, it's the first time you actually attend one of his parties, and so when you get to Yunho’s house and ring the doorbell, you’re caught by surprise because you can already hear the loud music playing in the backyard and the blend of new and familiar voices through the thick door. 

You expect him to open the door for you but Seonghwa’s smile is the first thing you see before you and Mingi both have the opportunity to step in. 

“You made it!” 

“It's pretty hard to miss this house, Hwa.” 

Your older friend side-hugs you and stays by your side while Mingi takes it upon himself to put your bags for the day in the pile of other bags next to the door “How are you doing today?” 

You're about to answer but when you look at him, you see him staring at Mingi, so you do too. He's staring at Hwa with a little smile “I'm doing good. I blocked her and everything and I can confidently say that…” he turns to you “My ego’s not bruised anymore.” 

If Seonghwa catches the spark between you and you best friend, he decides to ignore it “That's goo—” 

“Mingi!” 

What the hell is she doing here? 

Not, not that bitch from yesterday but this girl who Mingi meets with sometimes. You don't really know her, you just know she's gorgeous and that her name starts with an h, maybe? 

She's a fashion major and it shows in the way she's dressed up today. Truly, an enjoyable company whenever she's around at frat parties, a saving grace when you're tired of surrounding yourself with only men. 

Right now? She's your worst nightmare. 

Wrapping her arms around Mingi’s neck and getting on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek, she smiles like she knows she's getting laid tonight and your best friend does nothing to pull her away. 

She doesn't even say hi to you before dragging him to the backyard! You and Seonghwa follow them and when she takes Mingi’s arm and pulls him over to -you assume- introduce him to her friends, you almost stomp your feet like a little kid. 

Trying to get rid of the annoyed frown on your face, you turn to Hwa with a teasing smile and your eyebrows raised. 

“Well fuck me, am I right?” 

“I might!” Arms wrap around your waist and you feel Woo’s chin resting on your shoulder immediately after “That's a very nice dress, Y/N.” 

If Mingi was next to you, like you want him to be, you would give him a I told you so glance. Instead, you just look at Seonghwa with absolute horror before he snickers and goes away. 

“Right? And it looks horrible when it's drenched in nasty chlorine water.” 

“You can't possibly know that.” 

“I know a lot of things and— No! Woo, please don't,” you beg when he lifts you off the ground for a second. Behind you, you hear laughs and, even though you can't see them, you know it's San and Jongho “I just got here and I haven't even changed yet, please.” 

He turns you around and hugs you properly this time before letting you go. You take the opportunity to punch him in the arm and then go over to San and Jongho to do the same. 

“We'll let you get your swimsuit on this time.” 

“You're so considerate, Jong. Seriously, they're going to give you the Nobel prize if you don't stop.” He mocks you, repeating what you just said in a higher pitched voice and you laugh as you sit next to Wooyoung’s ex-girlfriend, Gyuri. 

San also has a girl sitting beside him with his arm around her, but you don't really know her so you just wave at her. They're all in their bathing suits already “See how he tried to flirt with me to try to get me with my guard down? He's a monster.” 

“And in front of me, too? The nerve on this guy.” Gyuri, of course, backs you up immediately and you want to return her smile, but you can see Mingi from the corner of your eye and it's distracting. 

“Oh, they're ganging up on me already,” Wooyoung whines, sitting down in front of you both and handing you a drink “It's like my worst nightmare.” 

“He's enjoying it, don't let him convince you otherwise,” San says, getting up from his seat and taking his girl with him “Especially coming from you.” He points at Gyuri and you laugh. 

“We're just friends now!” 

“That's what you told me like three years ago before—” 

Wooyoung gets up to chase after him and San lets go of the girl's hand to try to get away from him. 

Turns out, you're not the one Woo tackles into the pool. This time, him and San crash down on the water hard and a few droplets of water wet your feet. Gyuri laughs and everyone else does too when they realize what's happening. 

Jongho gets up and joins them in the water soon after to try and help (kinda, not really) San escape the wrath of his best friend. 

You almost miss it, because you take the opportunity to look at your best friend and, when you do, he's already looking at you. 

Breath catches on your throat and the lump that forms afterwards has a name and a reason: Mingi is looking at you with so much longing it physically hurts. 

He looks like wants to drop everything and come and confuse your fragile mind even more, just like he did the night before. 

Then why the fuck is he there with whatever her name is and her friends and not sitting right next to you? 

You look away, grasping your drink for emotional support and convincing yourself you're starting to see things that are not actually there. 

“Why the fuck are y'all fighting this time?!” Yunho comes from inside the house and it's the first time you see him today “No choking! No running! It's literally in the rules!” 

“Wooyoung please let go of my boyfriend!” 

Ah. So she is San’s girlfriend. Still, you turn to Gyuri to ask. 

“Who is sh—” 

“San’s new girlfriend, Kyungmi. We don't give a fuck about her or San right now, we're mad at them,” you want to ask who we is, because Wooyoung seems like he's just playing, but she interrupts you again “What the fuck is going on with you and Mingi?” 

Huh?! 

You make a quick mental review of your plan. Conceal? Clearly it didn't work. Bury your emotions deep so no one notices? You probably can't recover from the way you smile just dropped. 

The only thing left on the list is pretend that you're insane, but you're not sure it'll work either. So you turn it on her: “Nothing much. He played Espresso like three times on a row on the way here and I almost kill him, but—” 

“You can't bullshit me, Y/N.” 

Great, that didn't work either. 

“I saw that. Seonghwa did too but he got up before I could convince him to ambush you,” she dramatically sighs, chugging the rest of her drink down “So, what is going on?” 

“Nothing,” that much is true “he's literally with a girl right now.” 

“And she will never mean as much to him as you do. Next.” 

“Gyuri… I really don't know what you want me to say.” 

Squinting her eyes at you suspiciously, Gyuri takes her time before answering and you fidget in your seat a little. Wooyoung liked her for a reason, she's feisty and goes straight to the point and it's something you usually admire but right now it's not the time for her to do this. 

“I just thought maybe it finally happened…” She whispers and shrugs the entire conversation off before getting up “Let's head inside. They're going to start grilling meat at any second and I also don't want to be near Wooyoung when he gets out of there.” She points at him and you laugh. 

Jongho has him in a chokehold and Yunho is trying to separate them while San desperately swims towards his girl that's still waiting for him near the edge of the pool. 

“Sure thing.” 

You pretend you don't feel Mingi's eyes on you as you move. 

This is not unusual. Whenever you all go to parties, hosted by someone inside of the friend group or not, you end up separating from Mingi. 

He does his thing. He's outgoing and he likes dancing while you enjoy conversation and drinking away at the rest of the party, occasionally making out with someone and calling it a night when your social battery runs out. 

So you hang out with Gyuri in the kitchen until the sun starts going down and when the last ray of it disappears you decide it's time to swim a bit before you're too tipsy for it to be safe. 

Grabbing your bag and greeting some new people you don't know at the door, you head up to the bathroom you are told by the host himself it's upstairs. 

When you're tying up the strands of your swimsuit, the door slams open and you jump and cover yourself up with your hands because you're not able to finish the job, so the strands fall down and the only thing holding the top part of the fabric it's you. 

“What the fuck, Mingi?” 

Turning around, you're only able to look at him through the mirror. 

“Lock the door next time! What if it was somebody else?” 

“People usually knock!” 

“I didn't mean to scare you, it's the door’s fault,” he makes a fool of himself trying to prove it “See? I— let me help you with that,” he closes the door again and, this time, he locks it before taking a short step and grabbing the strands of your top “It's the second time this week I scare you like that, huh? I’m sorry, love.” He ties the strands together with a secure knot and his apology finally allows your tense muscles to relax. 

You remind yourself that there's no valid reason for you to be mad at him. You'll figure it out, he said it himself, and maybe today is not the day to do so. 

But he's not stepping away once he's finished, he's not even saying anything else before his hands grab your waist and his chest collides to your back. 

Looking at him through the mirror again, you silently ask him with your eyes what he thinks he's doing. He ignores you, bending down so the tip of his nose can trace the skin on the side of your neck. 

“I missed you,” his voice sounds like honey when he says it and you, once again, curse the ability he has to make you crumble “and you disappeared like an hour ago.” 

You let out a sigh. 

“I was in the kitchen, Mingi, not missing and we were in the same space for at least twenty minutes before that and like… forty minutes in a car, together.” You remind him and he frowns “Besides, you were with Ha… Haneul?” 

“Hanni,” he corrects and you huff out a whatever “and she was introducing me to some of her friends that are in the same major as me, just a year over.” 

“Cool.” 

He pecks your shoulder. You do your best to not melt completely into him and fix your hair in the mirror. 

“Y/N…” he starts and you hum in acknowledgement “I missed you.” 

It pisses you off for some reason. The mature thing to do is to let him know but the words that leave you are petty and laced with annoyance. 

“I’m sure you did, buddy.” 

He grins against your skin and you turn around to face him, eyebrow raising. 

“What's so amusing?” 

At your tone, he seems taken aback but his smile stays curving his lips upwards.

“I'm just really happy to have this moment with you,” he says, matter of factly, and you press your hands against his chest to regain some personal space. He doesn't budge an inch “What's going on?” 

He's such a guy sometimes. 

“You're here, kissing my neck, while a gorgeous girl who I'm sure is waiting for you downstairs is probably bragging to her friends about how she's going home with you tonight and—” 

“Y/N, I'm literally taking you home.” 

“I can easily take a car back— Mingi, seriously,” taking a deep breath, you stare at him with all the honesty you can gather “I don't want to do whatever this is if afterwards you're going downstairs to dance and flirt with Haneul or whatever her name is.” 

He looks like he wants to correct you on it again, so you level him with a daring glance. 

He keeps his mouth shut. 

“And I also don't want you to hurt her feelings if you tell her you can't leave with her tonight, so—” 

“I don't give a shit about her feelings, love.” 

“Mingi, don't say that!” 

“I don't! I wasn't flirting with her at all, either! Listen, it's…” he stops to chuckle for a few seconds “I mean, it's adorable that you're jealous but there's no reason for you to—” 

“Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

It's the second time today you have said those exact words to him. The first time, you also felt your heart bang with such force against your rib cage but for a completely different reason. 

“I'm not one of the girls you fuck on the side when you're horny or bored out of your mind. Don't fucking treat me like one.” You warn and suddenly the image of you telling him that teaching him yesterday could mess you both up crosses your mind.  

“I'm not, Y/N! I'm just saying that you look adorable when you're—” 

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when we are not together, Mingi? I'm literally looking out for the girl!” 

“You don't even know her name, love.” 

“That's not the fucking point!” 

He finally takes a step away from you, closing his eyes and taking a calming breath, surely.

Now you're pissed off because he saw right through you and your words. 

That disgusting weight on your chest you felt back by the pool while you kept staring at him from the corner of your eye? Jealousy. 

Now that he brought it up, it makes sense. 

You hate it. 

You always hated being put in a position where you felt the need to compare yourself to others. Always hated how easy it is for anger to run through your blood and infiltrate every waking thought until it clouds your judgment. 

Because you shouldn't be angry. He just said he didn't care about her feelings. 

And yet, all you can think about is that he spent an hour with her instead of you. 

When he turns to you, there's a storm in his eyes and you just don't want to hear it tonight. 

“Save it, keep it, sleep on it and we'll talk tomorrow,” picking your dress from the spot on the floor it's been sitting all this time, you put the fabric on, take your bag and then unlock the door “I’m going home.” 

You don't give him the opportunity to say anything else before getting out of the bathroom but you do hear a groan when you're rushing downstairs. 

Yeosang and Yunho are just leaving the kitchen when you trip on the last step and the host jogs the few steps to you after laughing. 

“There you are, Y/N. Listen, there's some meat already grilled back there but we're—” 

“I'm actually going home, Yun,” you cut him short “I'm not feeling that well. My plan was to swim a little before leaving but I don't think I can do it.” 

“Did something happen or…?” 

What happened is coming downstairs as he asks. 

“Nope. Nothing, I just think I'm catching a cold or something. Thank you so much for inviting me though!” You hug your friend quickly, kissing his cheek before pulling away. 

“Always…” Yunho is very observant but, as you always do, he doesn't press you with questions about what's going on “He's taking you home?” Pointing behind you, you don't have to turn around to get what he means. 

“Ye—” 

“No. He's having a great time here, I don't want to get in the way,” you shrug “I'll just get an uber or something. Don't worry.” 

Yunho frowns slightly, eyes moving from your face to over your shoulder. 

Immature. Petty. Rude. 

You're sure that's the way you’re coming off right now. But feeling anger bubbling behind the smile you give Yunho, you think it's better they make their assumptions instead of actually seeing you upset. 

You move to hug Yeosang as well and he murmurs his farewell. When you turn around, Mingi is no longer there and you don’t spare a look towards the floor to ceiling glass windows that separate the living area from the backyard because you're sure he's sitting right beside that girl again. 

As he should be. 

You bolt for the door, giving your friends a tiny smile before going down the few steps and into the hill. It's already dark and you're sure no uber driver it's going up this hill for the tip you're able to offer them, so you figure your best shot is to go down and try to find a cab on the main street. 

The light from your phone illuminates your scowl as you walk. Past the bushes and the trees and the lines of parallel parked cars where Mingi’s Lexus is. 

You don't notice him there until he opens the backdoor to block your step. 

“Get in the car, I'm taking you home.” 

Closing the door he just opened to stop you, you shake your head. 

“I told you I'm getting a ride and—”

“I don't give a fuck. Get in the car.” And then he's opening his door and closing it so fast it gives you no room for debating. 

He's angry. Shit. 

You can't even see him through the tinted window to assess how much damage you have done, so you look down the hill one more time and wonder if making the run for it is worth it. 

When your phone lights up with a notification from Gyuri asking you if everything's okay and to make it home safe, you take it as a sign to round the car and get into the passenger side with an annoyed huff. 

The engine comes to life. You're not looking at him but at the trees until the leaves start showing the building lights in-between them and soon you're on the main road. 

You can't even ask him to turn the radio on. Stubborn, you refuse to let the anger inside of you dissipate in fear of shame taking over. It's better being angry than being ashamed, at least in this exact moment because you can practically feel Mingi's anger through the silent treatment. 

But you need to say something. The silence is suffocating and the street is surprisingly empty so you can't distract yourself with anything. 

“You shouldn't have bothered.” 

“I am bothered. You bothered me.” 

Clenching your jaw, you turn to him in disbelief “I told you to stay at the goddamn party so we can fix this tomorrow but I bothered you?”

“Did I stutter or something?” 

“No, you're just not making any fucking sense!” 

“Yeah, fuck this,” you see him look around, biting the inside of his cheek like he's holding his words in “We're fixing this right now.” 

The car makes a harsh turn and you have to grab the door for support. 

“Mingi!” He's not listening to you anymore. His hard gaze stays on the road, it feels like forever before he pulls into a somewhat empty parking lot and when the vehicle stops you go to open the door and get the fuck away from him before you two kill eachother inside this car. 

That's an exaggeration but with the way he turns off the car and unbuckles his seatbelt, you know your pride doesn't stand a chance. 

The summer breeze briefly hits your face before his hand is on yours, closing the door and preventing you from, once again, escaping the situation. 

Frustrated, you let out a loud groan “What the fuck is your problem?!” 

“I don't know, Y/N! But I'll tell you what your problem is, alright?” he chuckles. It's a humorless sound, his face painted in something you've never seen before “Your problem is that you assume you know what everyone else is feeling and you assume you're right. But intuition can only get you so far, love, so I need you to take your head out of your ass and think logically for a second.” 

Flabbergasted, you think you murmur something in your defense but he cuts you short. 

“No! You didn't let me get a word out back there so now you're going to shut up and listen,” he pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes “You assume you're smarter than everyone else but you're actually so dumb. Dumb, you're acting very dumb and reckless, Y/N! That back there?” he points out of the window to nothing but you know what he means “Leaving— Scratch that. Leaving me and not giving me a chance to say anything back? Trying to go down that hill alone and in the dark? Stupid.” 

Staring back at him with watery eyes, you don't even know what to say back except a whispered excuse me?

“And usually I would beat up anyone who even dares to call you that but I guess all these years I've been wrong about you. Because if you were smart, you would've realized that Hanni means nothing to me and I mean nothing to her. There's nothing, she loves appearances and that's it.” 

You knew that already, but you're not giving your stance up. 

What even is your stance? Ah, right, he treated you like an envious no one back there and not like his best friend.  

“Yeah, I can tell you mean nothing to her from the whiny tone and the hug and the dragging you to meet her friends, Mingi.” Scoffing at the memory, your lips press into a thin line. 

“Well, she's a friendly girl!” 

“She didn't even say hi to me!” 

“So she doesn't like you, Y/N! Who cares!” you sure don't but, again, you just stare at him in disbelief and his open arms, palms to the sky “Do you care? Because I don't! And guess what? I doesn't fucking matter if she likes you or not or if she wants me or not because I like you!” 

What? 

“W-what?” 

“I like you! And I'll choose you over her and everyone else again and again and again until you notice but fuck it's so tiring. You're so fixated on why I let her drag me to her friends that you completely ignored me the rest of the time we were there and maybe if you looked at me more than once you would've realized that I was staring back at you the whole afternoon!” 

You let out an annoyed chuckle “So you were, Mingi.” 

“I was! I was trying to get you to look at me and notice how bad I wanted you to come over, rescue me from that boring ass conversation, grab my hand and claim your place right beside me because—” he pauses, resting a hand on the steering wheel and looking at you like he can't believe he has to spell this out for you “Because I want nothing more than for her and everyone to know I’m yours! I'm sure everyone already fucking knows too, except you. So yeah, sometimes, you're pretty fucking dumb for such a smart woman, Y/N.” 

Words escape you. They escape your mind, your reason and your pride shrinks until it disappears behind all the love you feel for Mingi. 

So that's what you are feeling. That's what you felt yesterday night when the tiredness couldn't drown out your thoughts of him and all he meant to you. 

Love, love, love. In all its forms, in all its possible scenarios. Your heart burns for it and you used to think that your hopeless romantic desires began and died with the movies you tend to see and the books you tend to read, that it was impossible to feel this way for anyone but there he is, chest heaving in the yellow interior light, waiting for you to say something back. 

“And I realize that before yesterday I showed no interest in you but believe me when I say that I—” 

Shakily, you interrupt him with whispered words, heart soaring and hands reaching out to cup his beautiful face “Shut the fuck up, Song Mingi.” 

When you kiss him, you make sure to pour out everything you couldn't say a minute ago into it. 

When he kisses you back with the same feeling, it crosses your mind that he already forgave you. 

And when he grabs your waist and drags you over the break handle and the transmission to collide his chest against yours and drag his tongue along the seam of your bottom lip, you think that, for the first time ever, you have to tell him he's right. 

You are stupid. Stupid for not realizing it sooner, stupid for confusing his longing stares for something platonic, stupid for thinking you could wait until tomorrow to tell him he has the right to see and be with anyone he wants to because this is it. 

This. The way your entire body comes alive when he sighs into your mouth and groans at the way your knee opens up his legs to make room for you on his side of the car and partially on his lap. The way his thumbs run through your cheeks and dry the tears you didn't even feel falling down. The way your heart jumps frantically and the way its beats could get confused by his because you're so close. 

Suddenly and unexpectedly, you can't recall a time Mingi didn't make you feel this exact same way. It's overwhelming, it expands through you like a fire and it knocks the remaining air out of your lungs enough for you to pull away and rest your forehead against his, shaky breaths tangling together and fingers grasping the neck of his shirt in an attempt to ground yourself. 

You sniffle, incapable of not feeling emotional over his confession and your realization “I'm sorry, Mingi. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for treating you that way I was… I behaved like…” 

“An ass.” He nods and you look at him with the ghost of a smile tugging at your lips. 

“Yeah,” you nod as well “I was an ass. A jealous ass.” 

“I know, love.” He whispers, eyes moving on your face before his lips are on yours again, briefly, sweetly, even if you don't feel like you deserve it “You tend to forget that I know you, hm? That I've seen you jealous before? You were an ass back then, too.” 

“Okay! Okay, stop calling me an ass, I get it.” 

“I'm sorry for waiting for you to do something when you didn't even… I guess you didn't know, right? The way I feel about you?” 

“I know now,” you whisper back, nudging your nose against his and then putting some distance so you can see him better “I feel the same way, by the way. We're shit at communicating, apparently, so I'll just tell you now that—” 

His lips are on yours again and he's giggling against them and shaking his head when he pulls away. Brown eyes search for yours and you're not sure what he's looking in them but he seems to find it, his muscles relaxing against the leather of his seat seconds later. 

So you kiss him again. And again and again until your back starts hurting and the steering wheel is pressed uncomfortably against it, forcing you to shift on his hold. 

“Let me… Wait.” He lets you go to pull his seat back and then closes his legs, forcing your knee to fall on his other side so you can fully straddle his lap “That's better. Now come here.” And then he’s grabbing the back of your neck and stealing your breath away again with another kiss.

The tension shifts right then. When he can fully feel you pressing up against him and when a noise escapes you once his hands drop and give your bare legs the attention you didn't even know you were craving. 

You thought a second ago that the sweet kisses would stop once you were both sated with the sweet aftermath of all the yelling and confessing but now you don't want it to stop. 

There's a lot to catch up on, a lot of missed time you need to make up for. 

You still want to make him feel good. The sparks from yesterday come alive again and soon you're yanking the strands of dark hair with your fingers and letting your mouth explore the skin of his neck. When you sink your teeth into his skin, he lets out the same noise he did the night before and you smile against the mark you just made. 

His lips find your shoulder and he breathes hard into it once your hips start moving at their own accord, slowly yet firmly, the pad of his fingers digging hard on your thighs until you break away from his neck to focus on his face again. 

“This goddamn dress, love.” 

Humming, you caress his red cheek with your lips “What about it?” 

“Been thinking about it all day…” 

“It worked, by the way.” 

“Woo?” 

“Mhm. Distracted him so he didn't throw me in the pool right away.” 

“And Jongho?” 

“Probably plotting against me right now.” 

He laughs softly into your skin “Probably.” 

Chuckling as well, you stop your movements and take in how he looks. Gone, a little too fucked up from just making out, lips swollen and eyes clouded with something you're getting too familiar with, too quick. 

“Worked on you, too.” 

He smiles and shrugs, letting his head drop into the headrest “You look good in everything, love. It doesn't really matter what you wear.” 

“Oh?” 

A firm hand trails up your body, slowly, from you leg to your hip, your waist to the side of your breasts and your until it cops your face with affection you never imagined you would experience. 

“I have always thought you are the most beautiful girl to ever exist.” 

This is it. 

Leaning into his touch, your lips connect to the palm of the hand holding you before you lean forward again. 

“I love you, Mingi.” 

He doesn't seem surprised by your confession and you're glad he knows. It doesn't really matter if it's too soon, if you even mean it in a romantic way or not, the love you have for him transcends all labels. 

“I love you too, Y/N.”

And his does too. 

You kiss him until it hurts. 

He kisses you until you're gasping and your body is pleading for more. 

The both of you kiss each other until you're sure nothing else will replace the taste of one another, that it will linger forever even if your paths stop crossing at any point in time. 

It feels like you're trapped somewhere where the clock doesn't tick at all, where you can take your time exploring him with your mouth and your hands. 

And then it doesn't. 

The fabric of the dress starts bothering you, his tight shirt is suddenly not tight enough and the hardness steadily growing and pressing into your core is screaming for attention you can't give him with all these clothes on the way. 

He feels it too, fingers tracing the hem of your dress for the second time today and then they're under it, pulling at the fabric up until it bunches on your waist. 

You're still wearing the swimsuit he helped you put on earlier but it does little to conceal how affected you are. Looking down, you're not even ashamed of it when he follows your eyes and lets his linger on the patch of wetness darkening the color of the bottoms. 

Still, he moves his hands upwards again and soon you're struggling to get the dress off, considering you're almost bumping the roof of the car when you straighten your spine to do so. 

“Wanna know what crossed my mind when I saw you in the bathroom?” 

When it's finally off, he immediately goes for it: His index tracing your collarbone and slowly descending, his short nail dragging against your skin before the rest of his fingers join, right in between your breasts, where there's fabric holding together the top of the swimsuit. 

He could easily tug on it if he wanted to. Instead, he ignores it and presses the heel of his hand against it, forcing you to lean back and almost bump into the steering wheel again. 

Unable to speak and panting, you only nod as a reply to his question. 

“How easy it would be to get on my knees and eat you out. I thought: What if I just…” Using his other hand to mess with the knots that keep the left bottom part of the swimsuit together, he demonstrates what he means without actually doing it, his eyes following the motions “Undo these, get on my knees and make her come all over my face?” 

“Fuck, Mingi…” 

“You would like that, wouldn't you?” He smirks without actually looking at you, the hand on your sternum traveling down against your skin before joining the other one, teasing the knots on the right. 

“Y-yes.” 

Maybe he can see it on your face, the sudden nervousness at the scene he painted before you, because he grabs one of your hands and brings them to his lips before drawing you close again “Please tell me your idiot ex-boyfriend ate you out when you were together.” 

Blush darkening, you make a face that gives the answer away. 

He groans “He's worse than I thought, fuck. Come here.” And without any warning, the back of his seat goes down until it touches the backseat with it.

Bracing yourself against his chest, because you went down with him as well, you huff out a surprised laugh “Go where?” 

“Up here. Let me teach you something tonight.” 

“Mingi…” 

“First, you need to make sure your hands are clean—” 

“Stop,” laughing, you interrupt his bad attempt at teasing you with the same words you used on him yesterday “There's no real support for me if we do this, where do I even—” 

“Knees here,” he motions the backseat and you could actually do it, but you would have to sit on his face instead of hovering like you imagine it would be more comfortable for him “hands here” he points to the grab handle and the headrest of the passenger seat and then straightens his spine a little, bringing his face closer to you so he can whisper right into your worn out lips “Turn the light off, I'll do the rest.” 

He looks like he's going to kiss you but then he falls back onto the seat with an excited smile curving his lips. 

What a tease. 

So of course you turn off the light and prop yourself up into the position he wants to. It's challenging, the car is not that small but it feels like it is and you very much would rather do this on a bed, spare his back and yours in the process, but excitement also runs through your body and your brain stops making up excuses for why should deny yourself of the pleasure of Mingi using his mouth to make you see stars the second his fingers undo the knots and peel the bottom half of your swimsuit off your body with ease. 

Lips trailing up your inner thighs and hands on each side of them, holding you in a secure position, Mingi doesn't tease you much before attaching his mouth to your heat and your subconsciousness flies out the window when his tongue flicks your clit. 

You look down at him and the sight of him enjoying himself has you beaming, the warmth spreads through you and the zeroes on your pussy. You don't even try to quiet down your moans, completely forgetting that you're in a public parking lot that can fill up at any second. 

But paying no mind to it either, Mingi also moans encouragingly into your wet folds when your hips move a little, chasing that high. 

He shifts his focus to your entrance, his tongue working itself into you and when you move your hips again at the feeling, his nose bumps into your clit in a way that has you grasping the headrest for support, right hand slipping down and resting on the window while your mouth hangs open and your eyes shut close. 

“Mingi… Baby, fuck, I'll—” he adds his thumb into his ministrations, pressing it against your clit the way he did yesterday and it only takes a few side to side movements for you to come undone on his mouth. 

And again, the intensity of your orgasm takes you by surprise. It's obviously not as intense as yesterday's but it still got you trembling so you want to curse him out for being that good at what he does. 

He eases you into it, slowing his mouth and you only register that it leaves you completely when your thighs are being kissed tenderly. 

Breathless, you look down at him and catch his smile before his teeth are sinking into your skin and forcing you to hiss out a laugh “Good?” 

“Yeah,” you smile, climbing down from your position and hovering over his lap in an attempt to not ruin his jeans. It's very obvious he enjoyed it too, his crotch holding the evidence tight and probably painfully against the fabric there “Really, really good.” 

You want to get on your knees and return the favor, make him squirm in pleasure, but the space is not working in your favor. So even though your thighs are hurting and sweat is dripping down your neck, you start working on the button and zipper of his jeans before he sits up.

He wants to say something, but your tongue is touching his and tasting yourself on it before he gets the chance. Clumsily, a little too far gone for your liking as well, you are able to get through the layers of clothes and let your hand hang over his dick “Are you gonna make me beg for it today?” 

“You don't have to, love.” 

“Beg?” you ask with a smile that he reciprocates “Or touch you?” your free hand brushes the hair out of his face, sliding down until you're propping his chin up with it, thumb tracing his bottom lip softly “Because I want to touch you. I want to make you feel so, so good, baby. Please.” 

He kisses the pad of your thumb and then takes it into his mouth, tongue caressing the tip of it until you're panting again and then nods. 

That's all the permission you need before taking him with your hand and pulling him out of his boxers. Taking your hand out briefly, you gather up saliva and spit right into it. 

Mingi lets out a noise at that. Interesting. 

Starting slow, you focus on his expression. Testing the waters, taking note of what he likes because, unlike him, you probably pushed to the corner of your mind every sexual conversation you two had before yesterday. You take a second to look down at it, the size is no surprise but your mouth waters at the image of you taking him into the heat of it. 

Maybe another time. For now, you focus on making him feel good with the little you can offer him in the enclosed space of his car. 

He mouths at your neck, choked up sobs vibrate through the skin on your collarbone and your top gets moved to the side so he can mark the side of your boobs as he pleases. It sets the fire inside of you alive again, your folds getting wetter when he rolls his tongue around your nipple and then throws his head back when you twist your hand in a motion he seems to really enjoy.

“Just like that, love.” 

To your delight, he's not quiet. He's loud, he's grabby, taking the opportunity to hold onto your ass and press down on the skin when you tease his slit and gather his precum on your fingers so you can spread it around his cock and your hand can slide easier. 

Movements get sloppy once he's close, he's no longer paying attention to you and you welcome it as a great sign, his hips bucking into your hand and he moves you forward until you're sitting on his lap again. 

The only thing preventing your pussy and his dick from touching is your hand. 

You glance at him and he looks back, probably the same idea popping up into his mind so you nod once.

The car moves as you two move around, to the back seat, the spine of his seat up and the entire thing moving forward to make space for him next to you, over you, on top of you once he kicks his jeans and boxers off to the floor. 

You reach out to him in a silent plea and he bends down to kiss you soft and moist and hot and breathy, sensually, with sweet sounds escaping both of you when you reach under his shirt and lift it up until he gets what you want. Discarding it with the rest of his clothes, your top follows it and the contentment you feel when his naked chest touches yours is unmeasurable. 

There's no real room to move around and there's not really any patience left within both of you, so when he apologizes when he moves his hips where he shouldn't and his tip brushes your entrance, you pull back from his bruising mouth. 

“Condom. Now.” 

He obliges right away, searching on his jeans for a minute or so and when he comes back he's smirking like he can't believe you “When I told you we needed to raincheck I didn't mean it to be like this. Bossy.” 

Even if you're punching him on his chest and giggling at his breathy words, you take the teasing with pride “You started it, Mingi!” 

Putting the condom on skilled and fast, he's soon resting his forehead against yours and kissing you softly again “I wanted you on my bed…” his lips trail down and the giggles die on your throat as he's kissing it, a moan escaping you “On your back or knees or riding me…” he continues in a whisper going down and down and down, giving your nipples attention before going back up and taking your mouth in his again “Making a mess on my cock…” 

He takes the opportunity to enter you slowly and you gasp at the stretch, wet enough so it doesn't hurt you but you're unfamiliar with him, with his size splitting you open deliciously. 

“F-fuck, Y/N.” Mingi leans back to watch you take him in and you whine again. Tilting your head back, you let him work himself in and you moan loudly when he almost bottoms out “Look at you…” 

You don't. You can't. He's pressing his thumb on your clit again to ease you through the stretch and it makes the heat pool in your belly like you didn't come in his mouth a few minutes ago. 

Slowly but surely it gets easier for him to rock his hips into you, mouth parting in pleasure when you remind yourself to look at him. His abdomen tenses when you run your nails against the skin there, softly, until you're detouring them into his back and sinking them in just enough to have him whining at the feeling. 

“Baby… Harder.” 

“Yeah?” 

Hips bucking up to meet his at a particularly hard trust, you reach up to him so he can rest his body weight on yours. Close like this, with the pace picking up, the knot on your lower half tightens and threatens to break. 

“You take me so well, love. Fuck, always knew you would,” you know he can feel your walls tightening around him at the praise, because he smiles and kisses you once before continuing “My pretty, pretty girl… Taking my cock so well…” he punctuates his words with the roll of his hips and you cry out, holding his face in between your hands, his eyes never leaving yours. 

In this position, his lower abdomen bumps into your clit and it's soon tipping you over the edge. 

“So good, so good, oh— Oh, God.” You're mumbling incoherently while Mingi keeps whispering sweet nothings and then the tension on your belly breaks. It takes three seconds of your walls pulsating around him for him to groan loudly into your mouth and come undone as well. 

The only thing you can hear is breathing, all you can feel is breathing. His against your chin, yours blowing on his hair when you rest your cheek on his temple. 

It takes a second to gather yourself again and when you do, you tilt your head back to give him a chaste kiss that he returns. 

“That was so good, baby.” You tell him and he smiles, nodding in agreement “I am sticking to the fucking seat though.” 

Mingi snorts and just like that the energy shifts back to the usual you. Only this time, you come back to it knowing that no one’s ever going to have you the way he does. 

He slips out of you, doing his thing with the condom and you sit up, looking through the windows and becoming aware of your surroundings for the first time since you got there. 

There's a car parked far away from you that's empty and the rest of the cars that were near it have left. You wonder how long this all took, because you lost track of time the second he told you he likes you. 

Chest still heaving and boxers now on, Mingi rests his back on the door and takes your hand in his “Is it dumb of me to assume you're my girlfriend now, love?” 

“Is it dumb that I assumed that's what I was when you said you like me?” 

“No,” he answers right away “not dumb at all.” 

Smiling, you nod “Then I'm your girlfriend, Mingi.” 

He beams at that and then he's crowding you again “Say it again.” 

“I'm your girlfriend.” you repeat, enunciating each word and giggling when he nuzzles his nose into the crimson on your cheek “I’m yours, baby.” 

Resting his forehead against yours, he hums in contempt “Good, because I've always been yours too.” 

“There's no way! You two... together? Guys… See, that would be me if I didn't see it coming but I'm smarter and cooler than everyone here so I did.” 

Wooyoung's over the top reaction has Mingi throwing his head back in a silent laugh and you staring at the black haired guy, unamused and a little offended. 

It's two days later and, as usual, you're at Wooyoung's and San’s apartment hanging out. 

After putting your clothes back on and going for some well deserved food, Mingi took you home, kissed you goodnight and showed up the next day after class to break the news to your parents. 

Your mom almost cried. Your dad too, but for a completely different reason. 

In the end, they both agreed they saw it coming and when you told Mingi’s parents, they said the same thing and invited yours to have celebratory dinner without you. 

What happened in Mingi’s room after was worth missing dinner anyways. 

Mingi and you decided to break the news when most of the group showed up for movie night and you were nervous to see their reactions. 

But everyone seems unaffected by it. 

“I knew you guys liked each other the second I met you. Ask Gyuri, she agrees with me.” 

“Sadly, I do.” Wooyoung's ex looks at you from her spot by the door, where she's getting her shoes on. 

She winks at you and you fake a gasp, falling into your boyfriend's lap with an annoyed huff. 

“And no one told us?!” 

“Sorry, Y/N. We didn't want to get in the way.” Hwa is apologetic and Yeosang nods alongside Hongjoong but you gape at them like they betrayed your trust. 

“To be fair we didn't know till’ last week, love.” 

“She didn't know.” Gyuri corrects him and now you turn to her to give her the betrayed look “You were pining over it for six months already.” 

“I say it was more like nine but…” Hwa shrugs and sips his cup, giving the man holding you close a knowing smile. 

Oh, they definitely talked about it, huh? 

“Nine months and no one cared to fill me in, huh?” 

“I’m sure Mingi did—” 

“Wooyoung!” 

“Well I didn't notice.” Yunho interferes with a shrug and gives you a recomforting smile that doesn't work at all. 

San laughs “That's because you're a puppy that can't even tell when someone likes you.” 

“Am not!” 

Everyone, including you and Mingi, make a noise in agreement with San.  

“You're one to talk, though, leave the puppy alone.” Gyuri tells her ex's best friend and Wooyoung laughs at him when his smile drops. 

There's some story there you don't know. 

“Guys… Does someone like me right now? Be honest.” 

Yeosang is about to tell him something but Jongho interrupts. 

“Enough with the love talk! Can we start the movie?” But he's pressing play already, so the answer doesn't really matter. 

Gyuri laughs once and Wooyoung makes his way over to her to give her a hug that she enjoys for one second tops before pushing him away. 

“Enjoy everyone! I'm so happy for you two, by the way, not that these neanderthals would tell you to your face but I'm sure they're too.” 

“Thank you, Gyuri.” Mingi murmurs from behind you and you mouth a thank you as well before she leaves for the night. 

Something about her best friend having a boy crisis. 

You don't miss the way San’s eyes follow her until she leaves or the way he looks at Woo, something clearly worrying him. 

His best friend ignores him, though, so you confirm that might just be a little pissed off at him after all. 

“Tell her to text you what happens.” San asks Woo once she leaves and he rolls his eyes. 

“Mhm. I’ll tell her to stop calling us neanderthals too.” 

You smile “Well, she's right.” 

“Nuh-uh!” 

Jongho has to stop the movie and you see him sulk while everyone else is arguing. Some of them, like Hwa and Yeo, are siding with you and Gyuri. And the rest of them, like your boyfriend, are telling them off. 

When you turn to face him, his argument dies mid-sentence because he stops to smile at you. He takes your face in his hand and kisses you for the first time ever in front of everyone else. The group stops the argument to tease you both and you laugh into his mouth. 

A cushion is thrown at you and Jongho gets up to separate your faces before sitting beside you with a pout on his lips. 

“Can we watch the goddamn movie?!” 

You're the happiest you've ever been.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[reidmotif]

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 

My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 

Damn profiler best friend. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 

“Stuff.” I affirm. 

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 

How did I get into this mess? 

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 

He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 

“Yep. The last one.” 

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 

When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

[shxuga]

Not said | Sylus

I'm in love with this man, and I wanted to introduce myself by writing something about him in the best way… fluffy and self-indulgent! I hope you enjoy the read, English is not my first language ;; Likes and respoted are aprecciates!

It was crazy...

Yes, crazy. Because... How did you go from repudiating and fearing the infamous leader of Onychinus... to... to this?

His soft hair shook as he rocked his face to the left, settling his sleeping form better into your bed. And, clearly, as the mature woman you are and not at all affected by his celestial beauty, you did not annihilate the voracious impulse to shake your legs and slide your fingers through his pretty grayish strands.

You sighed, feeling out of place in your own home. In your own bed! With the curtains closed, somehow trying to wipe most of brightness of Linkon's sun, that your... Ally? Buddy? Lover...?

Gosh, you weren't even sure about that...

Yes, definitely, crazy.

You couldn't even try to figure out Sylus. No matter how hard you tried to collect each piece of his complex puzzle... Most of the time you felt at a dead end.

You blame his pretty voice, his sharp but gentle features, the damn way he pronounced your name, and how he acted when it came to you. God, his damn treatment of you...! That started being so cold, almost spiteful, as if with his words and behavior he will "subtly" (because the bastard wasn't subtle at all!) demand that you remember something he didn't even bother to explain.

The memories in your mind were confusing, blurry and melancholic.

It was strange...

You did not remember exactly that mysterious past, and your "first" meeting was undoubtedly bitter... And now, much to your regret, is the moment where you most feel that your relationship with him wanders on a different astral plane! Completely unrelated!

Because... What the hell were you two?!

There was something implicit there, something mutual that, for better or worse, neither of you had dared to utter. Plus, he completely contradicted himself at times like these. Where the words become extinct, the walls collapse and only that soft perfume of vulnerability remains that surrounds both.

When the cold, calculating and demanding leader became a mirage, leaving only a man... just Sylus.

When he laughed at your antics, and his pretty eyes crinkled in tenderness. Or when he poured honey from his lips, calling you affectionate nicknames that made the butterflies in your stomach flutter. The stolen pettings, where his fingers lingered longer than they should along your hair, those times when his knuckles subtly traced your shoulders and the sides of your arms, or those moments where he let his fingers protectively around your waist.

Moments like these... Where without warning he arrived at your apartment, and took over your bed. If you had a nickel for every time his actions nearly gave you a heart attack, chances are your wealth would begin to rival his.

"Can't you sleep?" His hoarse, sleepy voice startles you, tearing you out of the limbo of your thoughts.

"How could I? It's past twelve." You complain, to which he hums, slowly opening his eyelids.

And there it is again.

Those damn eyes... Those eyes that looked at you as if you were the most important thing to him, with absolute adoration. Full of that affection that made your skin tingle and your knees weak. God, how come this man who initially acted like a demon... Did it end like this?

Overwhelmed, you decided to look away.

His large hand cupped your chin with a firm softness, encouraging you to return your gaze to him.

"Yeah? Is that why you haven't taken your eyes off me?"

Damn.

At this point, it should no longer surprise you that he'll notice those things... But damn! That didn't make it any less embarrassing.

He must have noticed your embarrassment, because his sly smile widened.

"You were looking at me with such intensity that I thought you were going to pierce my face, kitten."

"I-I don't...!" Excuses die out in your tongue, there is no use arguing. You push his hand away and sigh. "Just... I was just thinking."

That gets his attention. He rests his face on his bent arms, and you try hard to pretend that it is something as banal to other mortals as settling into bed, they make it look so perfect, so ethereal, like a muse out of a painting.

It was driving you crazy.

"Yeah? And what were you thinking, pretty?"

Once again, you have to do your best to put on your best poker face to disguise the effect that their disgustingly (wonderful, perfect, amazing) cloying nicknames have on you.

"Nothing in particular..." Your lie is evident, especially by how you avoid his gaze and nervously play with the bedsheets.

He hums, of course he doesn't believe you, in fact, you're sure he already gets the idea... But, as always, he gives you your space, followed with silent reverence the path you chose, and sticks to you with each of your decisions.

Instead, he pulls your arm and wraps it around you lazily, settling your face into his chest, barely hidden under a thin tank top. You can feel his nose on your hair, gently inhaling. Shame pulses through your bloodstream. 

"Sy-Sylus...?!"

"Just pretend I'm one of your plushies and try to get some sleep." Sylus pronounces, and you perceive how drowsiness quickly takes over him. There's nothing you can do, not when those strong arms have you happily captive in their embrace. You can only huff and resign. You listen carefully to the pulse of his heart, as erratic as ever, even when he is in this calm state.

The haze of your memories returns to you for an instant. The smell of sulfur and blood, your fingers on a sword and his voice encouraging you not to stop pressing the dagger... Or else, there would be no turning back.

Absently, your fingers outline where the scar should be, unaware of the effect your touch has on it. He shivers, one of his eyes opens and you feel how his gaze shines with intensity, while he holds your wrist firmly with his fingers.

"Kitten..." He warns, and you lower your hands quickly. He laughs, that rich tone, snuggling back into you.

Once again, a sigh leaves your lips. You imitate him, burying your face in his chest, delighting in the persistent rumble of his heart and the manly scent of his cologne.

Yes, there was a lot he hadn't said... But his actions were very clear. And that was enough, at least for now.

[lalunanymph]

I GET THOSE GOOSEBUMPS EVERYTIME

summary. your husband decides to take playtime to the next level

warnings. fem!reader, wife!reader, reader is pregnant, reader has children with sylus, reader is his submissive, teasing, orgasm denial, oral, nipple play, clit play, orgasm control, bdsm, bondage, panel gags, panty gags, petnames (good girl, doll, my love, my wife, darling, sweetie), sir kink, biting, edging, free use, mild exhibitionism, dirty talk, Dom/sub dynamics, begging, super indulgent and so self-ship coded :,)

The flickering vintage lamp spilling warm, orange light on his large, blackwood desk is the only accompaniment to Sylus’s late night work. 

His sharp ears, however, detect a hint of movement, and he looks up in time to find you standing by the doorway, hair mused and face still warm with sleep, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Mhm... love? You’re not asleep yet.”

Those crimson hues soften at the sight of his beloved wife, a surge of affection and warmth filling his chest.

“Did I wake you, doll?” 

A hint of amusement dances in his ruby gaze as you pout and pad over to him. Sylus doesn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around your waist, dragging you onto his lap. Your head rests perfectly in the dip of his chest, your eyes slipping close to enjoy the warmth his broader body offered. 

He can faintly make out the small protrusion of your belly hiding underneath the silky black nightgown you wore that left little to the imagination. Your husband’s large hand strokes through your hair, and he leans forward to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know I cannot sleep if you’re not in the same bed as me,” your petulance earns a chuckle, Sylus’s blood red eyes twinkling.

“I have some documents to review and then I’ll be in bed soon with you, doll.”

But, you wouldn’t budge, stubbornly twining your arms around his neck, pressing your body flush against his. 

Your body heat seeps past the thin sleep robe he wore, straight into his skin which was tingling from your close proximity. 

“I think I’ll just take a doze here.”

“Are you sure, doll?” He exhales a short laugh. “It’s not exactly comfortable to sleep on me, but if you can wait for me to be done, I promise I will carry you back into the bedroom.”

You sigh, and shake your head. “I don’t think I can sleep, either.” A sly smile plays in the corners of your mouth, and Sylus feels a shiver of excitement running down his spine.

“Doll, are you saying what I think you’re saying…?”

No longer sleepy-eyed, you were awake and teasing, your hands pressing flat onto his broad chest. 

“Well, since we both can’t sleep…” You trail off, letting him fill in the blanks. Sylus did not disappoint, of course, just as sharp and keen as you are whenever it came to the matters of fulfilling your shared lust.

His hands came to wrap around your waist, sliding down to grip the bare skin of your exposed thighs. “Hmm, what do you have brewing in that devious mind, my beautiful, sexy wife?” 

You fight back a smile, pretending to be coy and demure. 

“Do you remember that night at the Eizer gala? Where you gagged me with my own panties in the bathroom while you took me there? Or, the beach when you tied me up before you collared me and made me yours in every way possible?” 

Sparks of heat light the base of his spine, your words instantly bringing to mind the memories of past carnal encounters which he holds dearly in his soul. 

Sylus grins, his eyes darkening with arousal at your words. He loves that you’ve been thinking about your previous play sessions, and the thought of having you bound and gagged again was incredibly arousing to him. He reaches out and gently grabs your chin, tilting your head up to look at him.

“Mhm… you’ve been thinking about that, haven’t you, doll? You want to be tied up and gagged again?” 

A tremor of excitement twists in your gut, tightening the band of arousal around your belly. 

“Yes, Sir. I want to completely submit my body to you again, Sir.”

Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his possessive fire roaring within him at your admittance. He loves it when you desire to submit completely to him, to give yourself over to him in every single way. 

“Mhm, that’s my good girl. And you’ll do exactly as I say, doll? You’ll allow me to do anything I want with your body?” 

You nod, your eyes drooping to half-mast from the desire thrumming in your veins. “Anything, Sir… anything you please. Hurt me, tease me… I want it all.” 

Sylus growls at your words, his mind racing with all the things he wants to do to you. He knew that he had to keep himself somewhat restrained, as you’re pregnant with his child, but he can still have you in so many different ways.

“Anything I please, doll? And you’ll be completely obedient and submissive like a good girl should?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you answer docilely. “Anything you want… I will be your good submissive.”

Sylus’s grip on your chin tightens, his carmine eyes boring into yours, his gaze dark and dangerous. 

“Mhm… I won’t go easy on you, my love. You need to understand that. If you give yourself completely to me, you’ll be completely at my mercy. There’s no backing out once we start. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” 

You bite on your lower lip, nodding eagerly. “Yes, Sir. I know what I want and what you can provide. I’m ready for it.” 

Sylus smirks, satisfied with your answer. 

“Then, I have something special planned for you, doll. I’ve purchased a surprise. Do you want to know what it is?” 

Your eyes shine with curiosity. “What is it, Sir?” 

Sylus releases your chin and leans back in his chair, a smug grin on his face.

“Mhm, doll, I’ve always wanted to try something new. I've been looking into some… equipment. Specialized handcuffs, designed for a specific reason.”

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispers the next words: “You know what I’m talking about, don’t you?”

Your curiosity is at an all time high, the eagerness to uncover these new methods he had up his sleeve to torture and tease you driving you wild.

“Oh, that sounds wonderful, Sir.” 

Sylus’ grin grows wider as he watches you shiver with anticipation. He loves seeing your excitement, your eagerness to be at his mercy. 

“Doll, I know you’re going to enjoy this. But, first, we need to talk about safe words. Do you remember our rules of play?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you begin to recite the rules from the top of your head. “Red is for ‘stop’, yellow is for ‘slow down’ and green means ‘yes’.”

Sylus nods with approval, satisfied that you remember the rules. He knows it’s important to establish a system of communication, especially for situations like this. 

“Very good, doll. I’m glad you remember. And you’ll use them, right? You won’t hesitate to use a safeword if something becomes too intense or uncomfortable for you, correct?” 

His large palm rests on your belly, reminding you of this precious gift you’re carrying—his second son and third baby which he loves with his entire soul. Sylus would hate himself if something were to happen to you in the middle of playing that would unintentionally harm Dante. 

You nod, solemn and sure. “Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus moves his hand to rest on our face, his touch gentle but firm, his eyes locked on yours. 

“Good girl. Now, I have a few other rules for you. If you do something without my permission, or if you disobey me, I will punish you. Are you ready to hear the rules, doll?” 

“Yes, Sir,” you whisper, your heartbeat thudding with a mixture of dread and excitement.

Sylus can sense the contradicting emotions, his eyes darkening at your eagerness, the dark flame of dominance burning within him as he prepares to lay down the rules.

“Rule number one: you will not touch yourself. Do you understand?” 

You shiver at the demanding implications of his order, nodding. “Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus can’t help but to grin at your shiver, your body responding to his crisp command. He knows you’re excited and willing to submit to him. 

“Mhm, alright. Rule number two: you will remain submissive and obedient, following my every command. No hesitating, no questioning my authority. Do I make myself clear?” 

Again, you nod, growing restless on his lap, feeling the heat of his bigger body seeping into the skin of your split and bare thighs wrapped around his waist. 

“Yes, Sir.” 

Sylus slides his hand down from your face to your neck, his fingers closing around your collar, tugging you closer to him. 

“Mhm, good girl. And rule number three: you will tell me exactly how you feel, doll. I want to know every bit of pleasure and pain I caused you. You will not hold back, and you will not be shy, understand?” 

This time your teeth find refuge in your lower lip, biting down on it to quell the mounting sexual tension threatening to squeeze the air from your lungs. 

“Yes, Sir… oh God, yes.” 

Sylus grins, his need to dominate growing stronger with each of your words, each shiver of your body. He can feel the power he has over you, the control he has over your body and mind. He’s addicted to it, the feeling of being able to control you completely.

“You’re being such a good girl, doll. But, there’s one more rule. One more important rule, doll. Do you know what it is?” 

“N-no, Sir.”

Sylus’s predatory smirk widens as he looks into your eyes, his hand still holding onto your collar, pulling you closer to him. He leans in, his lips nearly touching yours, his voice lowered to a rough, possessive whisper. 

“Rule number four, doll: you will follow all of my other rules, or I will punish you. And my punishments will not be gentle.”

Your agreement comes swiftly, born on the willingness of your eager nod. “Yes, Sir. I will follow all of your rules.” 

His ruby eyes gleam with satisfaction, hearing your words. He knows you’re ready to submit to him, to give up control, to be completely at his mercy. 

“That’s a good girl. Now, are you ready to try out your new equipment, doll?” 

“Yes, Sir.” 

He almost laughs at the excitement leaking through your tone, how your eyes are shining brightly with anticipation and lust.

Sylus opens a drawer under his desk, pulling out a set of handcuffs made of sturdy leather. He holds them up for you to see, the black bands connected to each other by a short chain.

“Here they are, doll. Specialized for this situation.”

You marvel at them, reaching out to graze a finger against the supple leather. “They’re beautiful, Sir.” 

He can’t help but grin at your words, the need to dominate you flaring the flames within him as he sees the eager submission in your eyes. He knows you’re excited to be bound by these handcuffs. 

“I thought you’d like them, doll. But, they’re not just designed to look beautiful. They’re also designed to be completely inescapable. There’s no wriggling out these handcuffs, doll. Once they’re on, they’re on.” 

Your breathing hitches, the idea of being completely bound and helpless at his mercy causing goosebumps to erupt across your body. 

“Will you gag me too, Sir? So we won’t accidentally wake up the twins.” 

Your babies are just down the hallway, sound asleep in their nursery and oblivious to the wicked games their parents are playing in daddy’s office. Since they’re starting to teeth, getting Sabrina and Protus to fall asleep was an endurance contest every night, and the idea of having to get up in the middle of playing to soothe them back to sleep daunts you. 

Sylus smirks, seeing the shiver of excitement run through your body as you ask about the gag. As if he can read your mind, he can tell what’s troubling you; how you’re eager for more and to be completely under his control.

“Yes, we wouldn’t want to ruin playtime tonight because I have so much in store for you, doll. You will be wearing this gag for the entire night. But, I won’t use a ball gag, my love. I have something much better.”

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you tilt your head to the side. “What is it, Sir?” 

Sylus moves his hand back to the top drawer of his desk, pulling out a slim, black device with a leather strap attached to the top. 

“It’s a special gag designed specifically for this kind of play, doll. It’s not a ball gag, it’s a panel gag. It’ll look more elegant on you, much more suited to a beautiful woman like you. And it’ll do a wonderful job of silencing your moans.”

Your eyes glimmer with wonder. “It’s beautiful, Sir. I love it. And the dildo insert—” you reach out to touch the phallic plastic protruding from behind the gag. “—that’s supposed to pin my tongue down, right?” 

Sylus’s smirk deepens at your enthusiasm, hearing the wonder and lust in your voice. He looks at you, feeling a shiver of desire run through him at knowing how much you want to be bound and silenced.

“You’re right, doll. The insert is to pin down your tongue, keeping you completely silenced and unable to speak. And the way it sticks out like that… it’ll look perfect on you, doll.”

“Mhm, like I’m sucking on something… naughty… while you have your way with me.” 

Sylus’s breath hitches at your words, the image you paint in his mind sending a wave of dark desire flowing through him. His eyes darken as he imagines you bound and gagged with the phallic panel gag, mouth stuffed full and completely at his mercy. His control is crumbling, the urge to fight back the need to stake his claim on your body weakening. 

“You’re being such a naughty tease, doll. So incredibly sexy with your words. You want to be my helpless plaything, don’t you?” 

You don’t help the urge from taking over him when you nod, meek and submissive. “Yes, Sir. I want to be controlled by you, Sir.” 

His ruby eyes darken with a dangerous gleam as the words leave your plush lips, the need to dominate and get you screaming for him burning hotter with each moment that passes. “Mhm, you’re mine, doll. Completely and utterly mine. And I’m going to make sure you remember that. Stand up, doll.” 

He gets up from the chair and guides you to the front of the desk, holding the gag and handcuffs in his hands.

“Time to get these on you, doll.”

You demurely get to your feet, fidgeting with your hands. But, before he puts you under his control, you want to do something for him. 

“Sir… can I strip for you?” 

Sylus’s breath trembles at your question, his eyes flicking down your body as he imagines you stripping for him, revealing your bare skin for his hungry gaze.

“... you want to strip for me, doll? You want to give me a show before I bind you and gag you?” 

His words elicit a dark wave of heat washing all over you, involuntarily making you moan softly.

“Yes, Sir. I want to make this good for you, too.” 

Sylus’s eyes darken with that all-consuming desire to claim you, a low growl escaping his chest as he looks at you with the fire of his immense heat. 

“Go ahead then, doll. Show me how much you want to be bound by me.” 

He sets the handcuffs and gag down on the desk, then crosses his arms and leans back against the edge of his desk, watching you with a heated gaze. He looks devilishly handsome in the dim light, frosty silver hair mused from your wandering fingers, and those piercing dark red gaze drinking in your every movement and expressions. 

You bite your lip and sway your hips, moving to a slow rhythm, starting with your nightgown straps. Gently, you ease them off your arms and let them fall, then you peel the band of your dress down your chest, sliding the slinky material over your barely there baby bump and down your thighs, leaving you in just your underwear. Glancing at him through your lashes, you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your black thong, teasing him. 

Sylus’s breath is coming faster now as he watches you, his eyes glued to your body as you move with slow, alluring motions. The sight of you stripping for him, revealing the curves of your body and the soft skin of your pregnant stomach makes the fiery desire to claim you blaze even hotter. 

“You’re so beautiful, doll,” your husband praises you in a low, husky tone. “So damn beautiful.”

His fingers are starting to itch, aching to touch you, to feel your skin under his palms. But, he keeps his arms crossed, forcing himself to wait, to watch you finish your little strip tease for him. 

You hook the thong and drag it down your hips. With a sweet yet devious giggle, you ball it in your hand and toss the lace scrap onto his chest. 

Sylus smirks and catches the lace underwear, his fingers closing around the soft fabric. He looks down at the garment in his hand and then back up to you, his eyes darkening with desire and his slipping control. 

“Mhm… doll… you’re being very naughty, throwing your underwear at me like that.” 

He brings the tiny scrap of lace to his nose, inhaling your scent and a growl escapes his chest, low and possessive. 

Your eyes darken with a similar shade of desire and longing. “Anything for you, Sir.” 

Sylus can feel the fire to claim you threatening to engulf him, burning hotter with each moment that passes, his blood-red eyes locked on you and the desire in your own restless gaze. 

“That’s what I like to hear, doll.”

Your husband sets your thong on the desk and gets up, moving to stand in front of you. His hands reach out, fingers gently tracing the outline of your hips. “Turn around, sweetie. Let me put these handcuffs on you.”

Obeying him, you turn around, and rest your wrists on the small of your back.

Sylus’s eyes darken at your perfect submission, as he sees your wrists in their position, ready for him to bind. He picks up the handcuffs, the leather cold in his hand, and snaps the bands around your wrists. Pulling them taut, he secures them in place and snaps them shut with a click.

“How do they feel, doll?”

The low rumble of his question lights the warmth of arousal between your thighs, and you squirm, breathing growing heavier. “Heavenly, Sir… I can’t escape them.”

Sylus lets out a chuckle and a low growl, his need to dominate flaring up as he watches you squirm, testing the cuffs, trying to pull free. He takes a step closer behind you, his chest pressed flush against your back.

“That’s what I love about these cuffs, doll. They’re completely inescapable. No matter how much you struggle, you’re not getting out.”

Once upon a time, the idea of being bound by the infamous Onychinus leader would have made your fearless heart tremble. But, after falling in love with him, marrying him and giving him two beautiful twins and with another baby on the way, the fear is no longer there, replaced by the intense desire to always belong inexplicably to him. 

You lean against his chest, a soft moan slipping past your teeth. “Feels… so good…”

Sylus wraps his arms around you, his chest pressed close against your back, the heat of his body warming you. He pulls you closer, his hands running along your hips and sides, up to your shoulders, his fingers brushing over your skin. The feel of you against his chest, the sounds of your sweet moans, makes him burn hotter for you.

“Mhm, such a good girl. The way you respond to being bound is so damn sexy, doll.”

Your hips involuntarily undulate, desire singing in your veins. 

“They make me feel so sexy, Sir.” 

Sylus tightens his arms around you, his fingers tracing along the curve of your hips as you grind your lower body against his. He can feel your desire, hear the need in your voice, and his control is close to snapping. Gritting his teeth, he fights back against the urge to just bend you over the desk and take you like an animal. 

“You can really feel how helpless you are now, can’t you, my love? These cuffs make you feel so vulnerable, so exposed… so completely under my control.”

No one can say your husband wasn’t an expert and talking through your mounting desire. You tilt your head back and moan softly. 

“Yes, Sir. I feel so helpless… It's intoxicating.” 

Sylus leans down, his lips hovering over your exposed neck, just below the line of your collar. He can feel his possessive fire burning ever brighter, the instincts to devour and pleasure you taking over.

“Mhm, doll… you’re completely at my mercy like this. You can’t do anything except wait for me to touch you, to tease you, to give you whatever I want.” 

Your body begins to shake, the force of his words enough to bring your composure to its knees. 

“Please…”

Your Master and husband smirks, feeling your body tremble with desire, the need in your voice fueling the dominant flame within him. He doesn’t give you what you want, instead continuing to tease you, his lips just barely touching your neck.

“Please what, doll? Use your words.”

A gasp flies past your lips, your eyes squeezing close; the words that spill from your tongue are wanton and take you aback with how desperate you are for your husband. 

“Use me, Sir. Touch me. Tease me. Make me your toy, Sir.”

Sylus grins, feeling the power surging through him at your words. He loves it when you give yourself over to him, when you surrender to his indomitable control. 

“That’s exactly what you want, isn’t it, doll? You want me to use you, to do whatever I want and please to your sweet, hot, tight little body?” 

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, breath hot and insistent.

“You want to be my toy, my plaything.” 

“Yes, Sir,” your voice shakes from the force of your desire. “I want to be your filthy plaything… your sweet toy…”

Your husband’s dominant fire roars, the possessive need within him flaring up at your words. He knows you’re completely his; his to do as he pleases. Your submission and your surrender only serve to stoke the flames of his desire, making him want to push you further, to take you to the edge and beyond. 

“That’s exactly what you are, doll. You’re my dirty, filthy sweet little toy. And I’m going to use however I please.”

Those words and promises… they drive you insane with need and want.

“Oh God… oh God…” you groan needily. 

Sylus moves his lips down your neck, biting and sucking on your sensitive skin, leaving possessive marks on the tender stretch of your throat. His hands wander down your body, tracing the curves of your hips and stomach, gently pinching and tugging on your swollen, tender nipples until your hips stutter, his touch setting your skin ablaze. 

“Mhm, doll… say it. I want you to say it. That you’re my toy. That you belong to me.” 

Your head tilts back onto his chest, your breath coming out in hard pants. “I’m your toy, Sir. Your beloved toy and I belong to you.” 

He grins against your skin, his hands gripping your hips tightly. Hearing you say the words, hearing you claim yourself as his, only serves to fan the flames of his desire to dominate even further. Your husband pulls you flush against his chest, his body pressed against your back.

“That’s right, my doll. You’re mine. Mine to do as I please. Mine to play with, to tease and to take however I want.”

His lips move to your ear, voice low and dangerous. 

“And trust me when I say this, sweetie. I plan on using you all night.” 

Your hips quiver, the surging heat clawing through your body, demanding to be whetted. “Please, Sir. Make it hurt. Make me cry. I want you to consume me.”

This dark game you and your husband love to play will never cease to enthrall you, leaving you bright-eyed and impatient for him to fulfill your desires. 

Sylus’ demanding nature roars at your words. He understands you’re giving him explicit permission to push you to your limits, to take you beyond the edge of pleasure and into the aching terrain of submission. 

“Careful what you wish for, sweetie… you’re giving me all the permission I need to do things to you that will make you scream and cry. Are you sure you won’t regret this?” 

“I won’t, Sir,” you promise. “I need it… I want it…” 

He grins, knowing that he has your complete trust and surrender. Your white-haired devilish husband knows he’s going to push you to your limits and he’s going to make you enjoy every second of it.

“Hmm. Alright, doll… you asked for it.”

Without warning, he bites down on your neck, his sharp canines sinking into the delicate skin of your throat, marking you as his. Your body jerks instinctively, and he moves his hands to your wrists, gripping it tightly in his grasp, pulling you back against him, keeping you captive and pliant to the pleasure he’s eliciting in your bound body. 

“A-ah!” 

Tears fill your eyes, your loud moan catching you off guard. 

Suddenly, you hear a rustle over the baby monitor he has installed near his office desk, and you gasp softly, catching his attention. Sylus stills, following your gaze to the baby monitor, hearing one of the twins starting to sniffle, having been startled by your shattering moan. 

He grumbles and releases your wrists, reluctantly pulling away from you. Sylus can tell from the cadence of the tiny sniffles that Sabrina has woken up from your unintentionally jarring moan. 

“Damn it, doll,” he hisses, “you woke the baby with your screaming. Are you happy now?” 

Despite being bound and at his whim, you shoot him a glare and whisper-yell: “That was what the gag was for, Sylus!” 

The rustling continues over the baby monitor, Sabrina smacking her lips and yawning. Your husband makes to move to the nursery, wanting to comfort his baby girl when you shake your head and whisper, “Wait! Let’s just give her some time to settle down…”

He grumbles again, the aching need to dominate you temporarily stifled by this unforeseen interruption. He knows that it was his fault for not gagging you sooner before proceeding with playtime, and he can’t help but feel frustrated at his lack of foresight.

“Fine, doll. We’ll give her some time. But, trust me, when she goes back to sleep, we’re picking right back up where we left off.” Your husband’s ruby red eyes seem to glow in the lack of light with the intensity of his need to assert his dark desires over you. “And this time,” he promises, “you will be wearing a gag.” 

Nodding, you rest your head on his chest, listening to the baby monitor. Sylus remains quiet, too, sliding his hands up and down your arms and shoulders, praying to whatever deity above that his sweet children will remain asleep while he has his way with their mama. 

Like his prayer was answered, Sabrina stops sniffling and coos, rustling sounding over the scratchy audio. Then, soft snores fill the office, the baby monitor picking up on both the twins sound asleep. 

Sylus waits until his baby girl’s snores turn into soft, even breathing, indicating that she’s fallen back asleep. When he’s absolutely and 100% sure she’s knocked out cold, he glances down at you, corners of his lips twitching in a smirk at the sight of you tense and waiting in his arms. 

“I hope you know what you’re in for, doll. You asked me to push you to your limits and now that our precious babies are asleep… I’m not holding back anymore.”

You nod, squeezing your thighs together, despite the guilt swimming in your soul at how easily you had already disobeyed his orders tonight. 

“Sir… I’m sorry, Sir.” 

Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re squirming from the heat in between your thighs, your body responding to his dominating words. “You’re sorry, sweetie? Yes, you should be. You woke the baby and now we had to stop. But, don’t worry, I’m going to make sure you remember this lesson, doll.”

Your eyes flash and your shoulders tense when you hear him pick up the panel gag from the desk. 

Like he’s completely attuned to you, Sylus smirks when you turn around to show him the flash of excitement in your eyes. He holds up the panel gag, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Doll, this is the exact punishment you get for waking the baby. You’re going to be wearing this gag for the rest of the night.” 

He shifts closer to you, reaching forward to tilt your chin up. 

“Open your mouth, doll.”

You obey him with no resistance, letting your mouth fall open. 

Sylus’s grin stretches wider when he watches you obediently drop open your mouth, your eyes filling with excitement and submission. He lifts the panel gag up, sliding the black phallus between your teeth and securing it behind your head. 

“There you go… mhm… you look so beautiful with the gag in your mouth, doll.”

He leans in, lips brushing your ear and inciting shivers down your spine from his honeyed threat. 

“Now, let’s see how loud I can make you scream.”

You gurgle his name, biting down on the black plastic, humiliation and desire running through your veins. 

Sylus runs his hands over your body, tracing your curves and planting his mouth on any inch of skin he can reach, leaving his marks all over. He sees the way you look at him, the desire for more melting in the depths of your gaze, and the way your body responds to his touch. It only serves to fan the flames of his need to dominate. 

“You like being gagged, don’t you, my love?” He brushes his fingers across the outline of the gag, moving his hand to grip your neck lightly, enjoying your stuttering breath and muffled moan. “You like the way it feels when I take control and you have no choice but to surrender to me, don’t you, darling?” 

Tears of pleasure and yearning fill your eyes and you nod, your hips twitching pathetically from the impact of his debauched words.

Sylus smirks at the tears in your eyes, knowing it’s him that is making you feel the way he wants you to. He can tell that you’re completely engrossed in the moment, that you’re drowning in the subtleties of this power dynamic between you two. 

“I can see it in your eyes, my love. You’re desperate for me, aren’t you?” His voice is a low, alluring rumble that comes from his chest, vibrating against your back. “You want me to take control and make you mine, completely and utterly.”

The gag slurs your plea, but he hears you all the same. “Pwease.” 

The ache in his loins flares up at your muffled plea, the way you’re begging for him makes Sylus even more excited to deny you.

“You want more, doll? You want me to edge you hard and fast? You want me to deny you and make you drip with pure, pathetic need?” 

You nod desperately, clipping your hips forward, a slutty tick of libidinous desire you cannot control.

Sylus grins at your body’s desperation manifesting in the uncontrollable movement of your hips. He sees the way you’re squirming and pleading for more, even when he hasn’t touched you fully yet; his sick, twisted desires growing harder to control at the sight. 

“You’re so eager, doll. So eager to give yourself to me, to let me take control. But, you have to be patient, doll. I’m going to make you feel sensations you've never felt before. But first…”

Sylus presses closer, his lips hovering close to your ear: “I’m going to do something you won’t like.” 

You chew on the phallic silicone stuck between your teeth in frustration, tensing up and waiting for his next words.

He notices the tautness of your jaw, grinning at your reaction. The tension in your body as you wait for his next command is delicious, and he takes a moment to soak in the sadistic enjoyment he’s getting from the way you’re desperately waiting for his next command.

“I’m going to give you a choice, doll. And I’m not going to tell you which one is worse.” 

There is nothing you can do but nod. Sylus’s large hands drift to your midsection, curling around your waist. With a nudge of his knee, he spreads your thighs wider, leaving you vulnerable and unsteady on your feet with nothing but his grip around you to keep you upright. 

He grins, fully enjoying how helpless you are, knowing that you’re willing to do just about anything to please him. He raises three fingers in front of your face, chuckling darkly. 

“Doll, I’m going to count down from three and I want you to choose one of my fingers. Whichever one you choose will be the punishment that you will get.”

Behind you, he grins, knowing that he’s setting you up for a sadistic game that is designed to push your limitations and boundaries.

“Are you ready, doll?”

You jerk your head, burbling a muffled, “Yes.” 

Sylus grins, the fire inside of him burning brighter at the sight of your eagerness. He starts to count down, slowly and deliberately, his voice taking on a rough edge that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Three… two… one…”

You blindly bump your nose against his ring finger—the third one. 

Sylus grins cruelly, seeing the finger you chose, knowing you have fallen right into his trap. He takes a moment to enjoy the moment, letting the anticipation build before delivering the punchline. 

“Heh… doll, that was the choice you would have wanted to avoid the most.” 

He grabs your hair, turning you around to face him, fingers tangling in your soft strands as he pulls your head backward, making sure to keep eye contact. 

“Silly, stupid little doll. You fell right into my trap,” he croons, low and dangerously.

Sylus lets your fear and anxiety marinate, unwilling to break the tense silence for the grand reveal. You run your tongue over the plastic cock stuffed in your mouth, simmering in your frustration and dread.

Your tormentor chuckles, watching the way you squirm, delighting in the look of frustration on your expression, how your jaw tenses as you flick your tongue against the plastic phallus in anticipation. 

“Mhm… someone’s eager to know what their punishment is, aren’t they? You want so desperately to know what I have in store for you, doll?” 

As much as you’re dreading the reveal, you can’t stand the thought of being stuck in limbo. You twist your wrists in the handcuffs and bob your head.

“Pwease, Sir,” you speak past the gag. 

Sylus is immensely enjoying the way you beg for him, calling him ‘Sir’ in a thick, slurry voice that’s impeded by the panel gag. He leans in, his lips hovering just inches from your ear, his voice taking on a low, dangerous edge. 

“You’re being so desperate and eager… it’s so easy to tease you, doll. But, since you’re begging me nicely, I suppose I’ll tell you what punishment you’ve chosen.”

He lets the words dangle in mid-air, intentionally drawing out more of your frustration. If there’s one thing your husband excels at, it’s being a goddamn tease. 

You make a sound of curiosity from the back of your throat, brows dipping together in pure frustration. 

Sylus grins, seeing the way your frustration and dread is mounting, the plastic bit of the gag digging against your teeth as you bite down on it in anticipation. 

“You’re just so cute when you’re desperate, my love. But, I suppose I’ve teased you enough…”

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear, the words making your blood run cold. 

“Your punishment, doll… is two days of edging.”

Your stomach sinks right to your toes, your breath catching and eyes widening.

“Nwooooo,” you protest, shaking your head, already regretting your agreement for these titillating games. “Pweeasseee…”

All your resistance does is make him grin, seeing your reaction, the way your eyes widen in shock and dread as he reveals your punishment. He can feel the sadistic glee surging in his chest at your pleading voice, begging him to change his mind.

Sylus grips your chin, forcing you to stare right into his glinting, ruby eyes. “Nuh-uh. No can do, sweetie. You made your choice and now you’re going to have to suffer the consequences.” 

He runs a hand through your hair, pulling tighter on the strands, making sure you’re gazing directly into his eyes when he utters these devastating words: 

“You’re not getting out of this, doll.”

Tears glitter in your eyes and you hiccup, the pain of his tight grip around your hair pebbling your nipples, making them irresistible to his wandering mouth. 

Sylus ducks his head, sucking on them gently and making them shiny with his spit, earning a whine from you. 

“Mhm…” he sees the tears glossing in your eyes, the way you’re flushed and responding to his ministrations. 

“Look at you, doll. You’re desperate and begging already and I’ve only just started,” he chuckles darkly, “You’re going to be in so much trouble by the time these two days are up.” 

He kisses a path from your chest to your neck, brushing his heated lips against your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“But, you’re going to be a good girl and take it, aren’t you, doll?”

There is nothing you can do but lick and suck on the gag, nodding furiously; hoping he would take mercy on your poor, keyed up body and disregard his punishment.

Sylus grins, noticing the way you’re chewing on the gag in frustration, answering his question without saying a word. Tenderness seeps into his heart and he runs his knuckles down your cheek.

“You’re being so good for me already. But, you’re going to have to be even more of an angel for these next two days if you want me to give you what you want, sweetie.” 

Without warning, he grabs your chin in his hand, forcing you to look directly into his dark and intense eyes. 

“Can you do that, sweetie? Can you be a good girl and let your Sir edge you for two days?” 

Tearily, you nod. 

Sylus is satisfied with your answer, the way you’re still desperately agreeing to his terms. 

“Doll, your desperation is delicious. You’re so eager to please, to be a good girl…”

Gently, your husband runs his hand over your cheek, his fingers tracing the outline of your gag in a soft caress. 

“But, you still need to wait a little longer, doll. Two days. What happens after that… we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

It must be the hormones or the baby you’re carrying inside of you, because you start to tear up, wondering if you can endure such torment and if he will begin it tonight.

Sylus’s smirk grows at your reaction, how you’re squirming and already on the verge of tears just from the anticipation. 

“Mhm… my love, you’re already so desperate from such a simple punishment. I wonder how you’re going to fare by the end of the two days…” 

He moves behind you, his hands resting on your hips, his front pressed up against your ass, letting you feel the half-hard presence of his cock digging into your thighs. 

“But, I suppose there’s no time like the present to begin.” 

Your body seizes and you cry out softly, whether from anticipation or dread, you have no idea. 

He grins, feeling your reaction to his words and touch, the way your body tenses up and the hitch in your breath and composure. He can feel your skin heating up, the desire and need building within you from just a simple touch. 

Sylus brushes a tender kiss onto your temple. “Mhm… you’re so sensitive and responsive tonight. You’re just begging to be touched, aren’t you?” 

He moves closer, his body digging harder against your backside, his lips trailing hot kisses down your spine. 

A soft, involuntary moan slips past your gagged mouth and you nod, wishing he could go lower. 

Sylus thoroughly enjoys hearing your moan, the way you’re practically begging for more with your body. He can feel your skin slowly burning with the aching heat, the want and need coursing through your body. 

“You want more, don’t you? My dirty little desperate doll.” 

He kisses his way further down your back, each brush of his lips on the sensitive expanse of your back making you twitch, his lips slowly inching lower and lower.

Your eyes roll back into your head, a steady stream of moans trickling past the black, phallic plastic and leather strap over your mouth. 

The heat from his mouth makes your entire body tingle, and Sylus grins at your non-stop moans, growing bolder and more demanding. 

“Doll, your skin is so hot and sensitive tonight. You’re so responsive to my touch… so desperate for more.” 

He moves his lips even lower, trailing them over your backside, nipping your skin and leaving a stinging bite right on the plush globe of your right ass. 

You squeal from the pinch of pain, back arching and body growing warmer. The need to come undone blazes hot in your veins, and you wish Sylus will just give into you.

But, he only grins, chuckling low and darkly at your reaction; the way you arch your back and lead for more, the way you’re begging for your release. He knows you’re fighting it, trying to hold back. Trying to be a good girl for him and obey his rules. Your sadistic husband loves seeing you at his mercy like this, desperate and needy, begging for him to save you from this torment with your glassy eyes and bulging cheeks stuffed full from the gag. 

“Oh, doll… you're such a good girl for me. But, you need to wait a little bit longer… you need to wait for two more days.”

He kisses his way back up your spine, his lips and teeth marking every inch of your body. Sylus gently nudges you against the edge of his desk, guiding you to your back, careful not to crush your bound palms from the weight of your body pressing into them. 

He lays you against the cool wood, taking his time to run his hands down the length of your body. 

Those calloused, thick fingers play with your nipples, squeezing and teasing them until you cry out and gurgle his name. 

In this position, it’s a breeze for him to keep your thighs wide open, using his large and warm hands to hold you wide as his tongue dances along the seam of your inner thigh, teasing the length of your pelvic bone.

Sylus smirks when he hears your choked moans, seeing the way your hips twitch in an effort to get his mouth right where you need him the most. 

Patience, he murmurs and gives your throbbing clit a little kiss.

Your body seizes and you shiver, desperately undulating your hips for more friction—for more of him. 

“You’re being such a good girl for me,” Sylus coos, trailing his mouth to the apex of your thighs languidly. “Such a good… girl…”

Your hips jerk violently at the sensation of his mouth on your clit, his tongue running through your folds. Sylus eats you out passionately, not holding back, flicking your throbbing bundle of nerves relentlessly; mouthing your folds and spitting it back out, branding his name on your clit with his tongue. 

He can tell you’re on the verge of coming undone, your hips bucking up and an endless stream of moans blessing his heated ears. 

The second he tastes your orgasm crashing around his tongue, Sylus pulls back, laughing low and devilishly at your chagrined cry. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, doll. Were you close?” 

He eyes the tears beading on your lash line and chuckles darkly, smoothing his palm over your stomach soothingly. 

“There, there. You need to wait a bit longer, my love. Two more days.” 

Your husband’s cursed mouth kisses his way up your body, his frosty white locks falling right in his face, the tips tickling your bare sternum as he moves his lips to your swollen nipples again. 

The tears gathering in your eyes begin to drip down your cheeks, and you start to sob.

Sylus pauses, seeing the tears streaming down your cheeks, hearing your hitched cries and the way your body is shaking from your ruined orgasm and the effort of holding back. 

“Mhm… sweetie, you’re being so good for me,” he praises you softly, pressing his body onto yours, his hand caressing your cheek and thumb wiping away your tears. “But, you need to wait a little bit longer, alright? Two days. You can do it.” 

Shivering, you sniffle and nod.

Sylus grins. “That’s my girl.” He sees the shiver wracking your body, how you’re sniffling and knows you’re trying your best to obey his rules. As a sign of comfort, he pulls you even closer, his body flush against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you tight. 

“You're such a good little doll for obeying me. You’re doing so well…”

He leans in, his lips close to your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Now… how shall I reward good little dolls who listen to their Sirs, hmm?” 

The answer comes in the form of Sylus edging you for throughout the night, his mouth, tongue and fingers expertly bringing you to the brink, only to rip you back time and again. By the end of the night, you’re left sobbing, aching, and unfulfilled. 

He removes the gag, but keeps the cuffs around your wrists, leading you to the office sofa where his arms wrap around you and he caresses your hair, slowly bringing you down from the high. His heart aches seeing tears in your eyes, knowing he’s intentionally kept you frustrated and unsatisfied. But, he can’t deny the pride shining in his ruby red eyes when you keep holding out and do your best to obey his commands. 

“You did so well tonight, doll,” he praises you in a soft, husky voice. “I know you’re frustrated and unfulfilled, and it’s going to be like this for two more days, but you’re being so good… I’m so proud of you.” 

Sylus unbuckles the cuffs and brings you to bed, holding you close and caressing your body, trying to ease you into sleep. But, you can still feel the need humming in your veins, the desire burning within you; the need for a release he’s been denying you the entire night. 

He knows you won’t be able to fall asleep like this, but he also knows he needs to stick to his word and let you suffer for another day. 

The next morning, your husband takes you again, his hands and mouth working over every inch of your body, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back when you’re about to spill over; crimson eyes dancing with glee at your choked moans and teary hiccups. 

He loves how you cry out in frustration, writhing naked on the bed with your sweet little body unfulfilled. How you grab his shoulders, trying to tug him back into the circle of your embrace, but he evades you easily, sitting up and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Sylus!” 

Your whine doesn’t phase him. Sylus’s eyes darken with his own desire as he presses you back into the mattress, aching to take you but at the same time, he still wants to see you suffer more. 

“Doll, you need to wait, remember? Two days. That’s your punishment.”

You groan and turn your body away, hiding your face in the plush pillows while screaming, “It’s not fair!” 

Sylus exhales a chuckle at your petulant whining, the way you’re hiding your face in the pillow and complaining. It makes his heart swell with glee and pride, seeing you like this, so desperate and needy, but knowing he’s the one in total control. 

“That’s the whole point of a punishment, doll. It’s not supposed to be fair. I told you, you have to wait until the two days are up before you can come.”

You should’ve known his words would herald a full day of torment, but you were too slow and soft hearted, desperately hoping he would be swayed by the tears in your eyes and finally give in to your need to release.

But, Sylus did no such thing. 

He mercilessly edges you throughout the day, never giving you any respite. 

He loves the way you’re getting more desperate as the day goes on, his hands and mouth bringing you close to release again and again but never giving you what you need. Your husband loves seeing you on the edge like this, fighting against your own body’s needs, fighting the urge to give in and just let go. 

His lips leave the juncture of your thighs, the TV humming in the background while the twins are busy in the playpen, cooing and rolling around. 

Normally, you would never let your husband have his way with the babies so close in the vicinity, but your mind isn’t where it is today, desperately in need for him to take you over the edge and let you come.

“You’re doing so good, taking it and holding back,” your husband praises, rising to his feet and adjusting your skirt, hiding your bare and neglected pussy from his view, making you decent once again before you have to feed the twins. “You don’t need to come, doll. Coming is only for good girls and you’ve been bad to the core.” 

Your brain feels like it’s melting, no thoughts but the feeling of his mouth on you, his fingers sinking deeply into the heat of your cunt, thrusting in and out to bring you to that sweet edge where he doesn’t allow you to spill. 

It’s a borderline addiction, the pain and pleasure rolling into one that you don’t know what you want anymore. 

Sylus edges you wherever he wants: in the living room after the twins have been put to sleep, in the kitchen against the counters, in the bathroom, in his office. 

He grins, seeing how exhausted you’re getting, how you’re struggling to keep up with his constant teasing and edging. His punishment is even worse now that he’s home with you, Onychinus duties relegated to Luke and Kieran who overlook the day-to-day operations while the organization isn’t in crisis mode. 

Sylus knows it’s torture for you, but he also knows it’s what you need.

“You’re doing so well, my love. Just a little longer, doll. One more day. Just hold out a little longer.” 

Night comes by, and after the twins are fed and put to bed, Sylus immediately pounces on the chance to tie you up to the bed, edging you over and over until you cry out for him to stop past the lacy thong he’s stuffed in your mouth, crying out from the oversensitivity. 

Sylus grins, seeing how sensitive you’ve become and how you’re begging him to stop but at the same time, still hold on and obey his commands.

“Oh, doll… you’re being so good, so strong. I’m so proud of you for holding on this long.” 

Twisting in your bonds, you writhe, whimpering through the makeshift gag in your mouth.

“Yesh, Shir… one mwore day…”

He traces your cheek with the tips of his fingers, smiling softly, loving how you’re fighting off your body’s baser needs, determined to obey his every command.

The next day is the worst for you. You’re sore all over, and completely sensitive to his touches. Due to the constant arousal thumping in your veins, you barely had a decent night’s sleep. 

Sylus notices how tired you are, how exhausted and worn down you’ve become from the constant edging he’s been doing to you. He was the one who suggested asking Sara to babysit the twins for a day because you’re too tired to take care of them yourself. 

You’re dozing off on the sofa, blankets tangling around your legs when he sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you onto his lap.

Even in a doze, you instinctively wrap your arms around him, burying your face into his chest and Sylus’s heart squeezes. His sweet, delicate, naughty little doll.

“You’ve done so well, my love,” Sylus whispers, tracing his fingers over your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his gentle touch. “It’s finally time for your reward.”

“Wait?” You perk up in disbelief, fully awake now. “Really?” 

“Mhm. Yes.” Sylus grins at the way your eyes light up at the idea of finally getting to come after being teased for so long.

“You’ve been so obedient and good, I think you deserve to shatter around my cock, now.” 

Giggling, you nod. “I’m ready, Sir.”

He laughs at your excitement, loving how eager and desperate you are to finally get what you need. 

“Mhm… doll, lie back and relax… let me take care of you…”

Sylus gets your skirt and blouse off your body, his ruby eyes hungrily devouring the expanse of your skin. You’re so beautiful to him like this—spread out on the couch, your hair fanning across the pillows, body supple and ready for the taking. 

He removes his clothes as well, slowly easing his touch up and down your body, though it's useless to do because you’re already so keyed up and ready for him. 

Your eyes roll back into your skull when he finally sinks his thick cock inside of you, a ring of cream already forming at the base of his girthy length as he fucks you hard and fast, urging you to rub your clit and play with your nipples as your release builds to a crashing crescendo. 

That’s it, good girl, good girl, he coaxes. Come for me… come for me, doll… make me proud and come together with me…

Sylus makes you come more times than you can count, and afterwards, he holds you in his arms, his body pressed against yours, his breath hot against your skin as you pass out cold, fast asleep.

A pang of pride lights up in his chest, seeing how spent you are, completely satisfied and pleasured but also completely worn out from the experience. 

He caresses your hair, gently pulling you closer to him, caressing the slight bump of your stomach where his son is growing inside of you.

Sylus kisses the top of your head, tightening his grip around you as he sighs, enjoying this moment of unfettered peace and love surrounding the two of you. He might not be the best at vocalizing his emotions, but with your defenses completely down and your body resting after such a strenuous experience you willingly went through out of your love for him, Sylus thinks you deserve a bit more praise and credit for putting up with his demands.

“Rest well, doll,” he whispers into your hair, stroking your belly. “No words can encompass how much I love you and want to protect you with my life, my precious wife. I’ll be here when you wake up… sleep tight.” 

As the day goes on, all is right and well in the Qin household.

— reblogs with comments and feedback are so appreciated <33 thank you for your constant support and love on my fics !!

©️lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, repost and claim as your own.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐗-𝐌𝐞𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐏𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: charles xavier, erik lehnsherr, logan howlett, marie lebeau, and peter maximoff

↳ warnings: x-man type violence maybe? nothing much

↳ notes: just some self indulgent headcanons about how the gang would deal with someone who hates skin on skin contact. this is based on my own personal experiences, so it might not cater to everyone. charles and erik are written to be more of themselves around the first class era, peter is himself as seen in apocalypse, and marie & logan are more set in the first movie's portrayal of them

↳ song: heavy metal lover—lady gaga

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐗𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐫 [𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐫 𝐗]

• Oh this is not one bit of a problem for Charles

• He's never needed physical contact to connect with people. Whether that's because of his powers, or his 'natural charm' as he calls it, you aren't sure, but your strange request for no contact never seemed to put him off his friendship with you

• Charles has his own ways of bonding with you, no hugs or handshakes required. Instead of nudges used to alert the other of a particularly funny joke, he'd just send you flashes in your mind regarding the situation. The end result was always the same; with the both of you grinning at each other while the rest of the room was left to make their own assumptions as to what you were thinking about

• "Seriously, it's creepy when they do that. They could be talking about anything." Alex whispered to Hank one day as you and Charles stood across the room from each other, not caring if the Professor was able to hear him or not. The only sign that you were even talking was the occasional huff of laughter Charles would let out as you scrunched your nose up in a toothy grin

• "Oh, I wouldn't say that." Hanks eyes gleam from behind his glasses as he watches the two of his friends. "Charles tells me most of it is just really bad jokes, if you want to know."

• As if on cue, the spell between you and Charles breaks as you delve into a laughing fit, and Alex and Hank can't help but shake their heads at each other in slight amusement as they watch

• He does an excellent job at speaking for you when you can't quite explain to new people why you are the way you are—as long as you'll let him, of course

• Maybe it's because he's been in your head, or just because he knows you so well that he can say exactly what you're thinking before you even know it. And sometimes, he doesn't even need to explain much at all. One carefully worded sentence backed with that steady tone of his is enough to make even the most ignorant of people understand

• "No handshakes for them, please." Charles had found himself saying that sentence more times than he could count since getting to know you, but he never found himself growing tired of it; even when you eventually found the awkward courage to start speaking on your behalf. Especially when you started speaking on your behalf

• Charles is a very patient man, and he couldn't be happier than to wait for you to open up to the world like you had done for him, even if it does take a while

𝐄𝐫𝐢𝐤 𝐋𝐞𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫 [𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐨]

• I'm going to be completely honest with you. At first, Erik finds your habit of avoiding touch annoying

• It's a weakness in his eyes that you have every opportunity to avoid acquiring. He doesn't see the point in being afraid of something so miniscule

• When he first meets you, he's probably an asshole about it. Erik doesn't go out of his way to touch you on purpose, but he won't take extra steps to stop himself from doing so. If the back of his hand brushes against yours as he storms away from another one of Charles' annoying lectures? Then so be it. Who cares if you pull back from him like you've been burned, clutching your skin tightly as you glare at his retreating form

• It will take a while for Erik to begin to understand you, much like it does for him to understand a lot of things about the rest of the world. I won't say that he ever officially apologizes for his past behavior toward you, but he definitely drops hints that he does regret it

• "Never thought I'd live to hear the Erik Lehnsherr himself say sorry for something he did. Next you'll be telling me you've always liked humans." Your eyes were wide in faux surprise as you stared at him one day, looking like you had just heard the best news of your life. It was a good thing you and Erik had a much better relationship than when you had first met, otherwise he wouldn't have had a second thought about shutting you up

• "All I said was that maybe I maybe could have been a bit nicer to you." He sighed, already regretting this entire interaction

• "Oh, you're not getting off that easy." You were already scrambling for the door, completely missing the way Erik rolled his eyes and flicked his hand up in preparation. "Charles! Charles, you'll never believe what just happened—"

• He ended up using your belt buckle to drag you across the room before you could embarrass him any further

• Once he's warmed up to you, I'd like to think that he's definitely used the fact that lots of people wear rings and bracelets to his advantage to stop people from touching you at bars or in crowds

• He swears up and down he doesn't get attached to anyone, and especially not someone that associates with the X-Men of all groups, but you've definitely have had a few people look at their hands around you in confusion while he's around. Almost as if someone else had a say in their actions

• "Big softie."

• "You do know I could kill you if I wanted to."

• "I'd like to retract my last statement, please and thank you."

𝐋𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 [𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐞]

• Logan doesn't give two shits about your strange request

• Not in the way that he ignores it like Erik, but rather in the way that he literally doesn't give a fuck if you want to be touched or not. He wasn't planning on touching you anyways, so it's not like he really has to think about it

• If anything, Logan is one of the only people who can even begin to understand your mindset. He's never been too fond of people just outright touching him without a warning first, especially if they were strangers, but that's what you get after being experimented on for years

• He'll have to get to both know and like you before he starts taking your words more seriously. Otherwise, all you're getting from him is a gruff noise of disinterest and a roll of his shoulders as he blows past you

• Or ar least that's what he'd like you to think

• "Watch it, pal." You barely had time to process what that noise was next to your ear before Logan was standing dangerously close to you. You were about to ask him to back away before you saw his hand up, and when you looked at his hand you saw it was closed around a strangers wrist; the likes of which was outreached in your direction and just about to make contact with you

• Logans rough tone and sharp glare had sent the fellow stumbling away with an apology, and left you standing there with a bewildered look on your face. It only grew larger when he refused to look at you afterward

• "Don't let it get to your head." Was all he huffed out in your general direction before walking off to continue the mission the both of you were on. Through the com's in your ears, you could hear the rest of the team asking you what was going on, and with a slow upward tick of your lip you finally answered

• "I think Wolverine here has gone a bit soft on my end guys."

• You were given the cold shoulder for the rest of the week by Logan, and every time he glared at you, you couldn't help but try to hold in laughter

• "See, this is why I'm not nice."

• "No no no I take it all back, I swear. You're so mean. You're the meanest, toughest person here, never done a good deed in your life—"

• "Shut the fuck up."

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐮 [𝐑𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞]

• She doesn't understand why you'd choose to have people not touch you

• For Marie, not being able to hug someone— to even so much as hold hands with the people she loved —is a curse. She wasn't such a fool to think that her mutation itself was the curse, Charles had managed to drill that thought out of her head a long while ago, but the side-effect that came with it would forever haunt her

• So when she found out that you actively took strides to make sure no one ever touched you (if possible), she was in disbelief

• "I just don't get it." She'd confessed to you out of the blue once. "How can you stand it? If I were you—"

• "But you're not." You cut her off and shrugged, voice devoid of any meanness or annoyance at the turn of conversation. "I get it. I must seem crazy to you. I'd imagine that you'd jump at the chance to be able to touch someone again. But that just isn't me. I can't stand the feeling of being touched. Makes me feel gross; inside and out. I don't ask you to understand it, just that you respect it. Yeah?"

• She had nodded slowly at you, not expecting the sudden explanation. It wasn't unwelcome, however. Quite the contrary. She'd rather understand you than stew in quiet confusion

• From that moment on, even if Marie thinks you're a little crazy in the head, she does her best to make sure that both herself and others take your wishes to heart

• You have to admit, it's nice having her look out for you. And it helps that she's one of the most powerful mutants on campus; one sideways look from her, and she could send anyone in the opposite direction from you if you need

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐱𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐟𝐟 [𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫]

• You're constantly having to remind him that you don't like people touching you

• It's not Peter's fault he forgets sometime. His brain is always going going going from one thing to the next. Thinking about the next mission, the quickest way to get from one end of the country to the other, how to beat that stupid kid at the arcade that keeps leaving him and his high scores in the dust—

• Okay so maybe he could do a bit of a better job of trying to listen

• "Peter, reach for the back of my neck again and I'm gonna break both of your legs." You didn't even have to turn around to know that he was itching to latch onto your neck, most likely to take you on a surprise trip a few states over. Or maybe just to the mall. He was spontaneous like that

• When you did manage to look up from your notebook and back at him, you found that Peter was already a good few feet away from you, holding up his hands with a deceivingly innocent smile; but respecting your wishes all the same

• "You sure you're not a secret nun or something?" He poked fun at the way you refused to let anyone touch you, even going as far to squint at you in an unconvinced manner. You ignored his clear misunderstanding of nuns to snort in amusement

• "No."

• "Could have fooled me, babe."

• He sped away before you had the chance to throw your papers at his head

• Peter's probably the kind of guy to constantly tease you to your face, but the moment you're not in sight and someone's ragging on you, he'll shut them down. He's done it many times to stray students in the hallways of the school who talk just a little too loud about your personal boundaries

• "I'm just saying, man, they're a little weird. The other day, I asked to borrow a pencil, and they threw it at me. While standing less than a foot away. It's just strange—"

• Less than a second later, the student was sent falling to the floor over his shoelaces, which were suspiciously tied together in contrast to moments ago when they had been placed in neat little bows

• The only sign that this hadn't been a freak accident was the telltale burst of wind that sped by the student and their friend, a faint laugh following in its wake

[sanakiras]

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! ❞

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

[ 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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.”

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.

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?

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.