#this is very important to me and in unwell for it i know

[motherismotheringggg]

YOU GUYS ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

tonight is the american museum gala and both of them are there so im MANIFESTING some pictures/videos together 😭😭😭

[muffin-snakes-art]

Hi. So I’m not a Layton guy and all THAT familiar with the lore, but a close friend of mine is, and as far as I understand Layton has a dead girlfriend? Can I please know who Magolor’s dead girlfriend equivalent in this AU is? I’m legitimately so curious. /pos

I have been thinking A LOT about which Kirby character would fit Claire's (dead gf) role. In the end I chose Taranza bc I feel he and Claire are the most similar in character. They're both really good at what they do (Claire: brilliant scientist - Taranza: immaculate mage), quick thinkers, humble, and have a lot of love to give.

I'll explain more under the cut (along with images of Claire and younger Layton for design ref), but Taranza could've also fit in as a couple other characters bc I made Sectonia as Descole. In this essay I will-

In Kirby there's an interesting connection between Magolor and Taranza. Primarily based on that one Magolor portrait in that haunted house in Triple Deluxe (like ok huh????) and also that one Star Allies Wave 3 illustration.

With that portrait existing, to me it implies that Magolor has met Taranza and Sectonia before the events of the game somehow. This theory is further backed up with the Old Friend mask in Merry Magoland. Magolor would HAVE to have known what Joronia looked like before her transformation, and that means he would also have met Taranza too at that time. I could be completely wrong about this HAHA but those are my thoughts on that.

When Wave 3 was announced, I didn't think much on the connection of the 3 characters other than they were from the first three core games of modern Kirby. But then they posted this art piece.

It's so cute how Magolor and Taranza combined their magic to create a shield for Kirby!! Both of their respective magic circle designs are melded together perfectly. Did they practice together on their own to perform this or was that a lucky in-the-moment occurrence? Either way, they must know and understand each other's magic abilities to a decent extent. Like how both Claire and Layton understands each other's careers and goals. Layton is a professor in archeology. Claire is a scientist researching time travel and other stuffs. Those fields go hand in hand, and the two do what they can to support and improve each other's passions.

Now onto the other characters that Taranza would've fit as and reasons why I ended up putting him as Claire.

So I put Sectonia as Descole. Descole has an extremely loyal partner/butler/henchman named Raymond. Yea Taranza would easily fit as him, but a few things made me decide not to. Descole may appear cold and not show it, but even in his madness he cares for Raymond. He does order Raymond around, but he still gives Raymond freewill to do as he pleases. Sectonia is very controlling over Taranza. If Raymond were to make mistakes, I don't see Descole punishing him for them. Sectonia would. She blasted Taranza away for mistaking Dedede as the hero of the lower world. Maybe when she was Joronia she wouldn't and wasn't as controlling but....I feel we don't have the full story on their relationship. I also focused more on Sectonia's overall in-game personality. I absolutely love seeing the two spiders enjoying each other's company and having fun, but in-game we never really got what Joronia really thought of Taranza. As Sectonia, she saw him as a disposable servant. You can say her personality was corrupted by the mirror, but I personally believe the mirror actually amplified her negative feelings and views. Negative emotions are brought up a lot in Kirby lore. I personally find that more interesting than just the mirror possessing her or something. I may be very wrong on that, but those are what I thought about.

Last reason, which is uhm, Raymond saves Descole from death FGDHSJ I don't think I need to elaborate on that. It would be so neat and ironic to have Taranza as Raymond, but I also wanna keep things in line as possible with Kirby lore canon.

Yet, who could be Raymond then? Idk fgdsj that's why I struggled so much. If Claire wasn't an option, Taranza would've been Raymond.

Now the one other character Taranza could've fit as is Descole's late wife. His wife was never mentioned by name, to my memory, and didn't have a huge role in the games. There's not enough information on who she was. I wanted to give Taranza a fitting role in personality and importance.

So in the end after all that thinking, Claire it is! I also don't know who else in the Kirby cast would fit her better and be Professor Magolor's late partner. One may think Susie would fit Claire more, but I've already decided she will be Emmy. Emmy's and Susie's personalities are very similar to me. And Emmy's lore? Fits quite well with Susie's. I'll draw that at some point.

So uh yea. Thanks for reading all that if you did! Hope you enjoyed the insanity

[crehador]

hi so i was thinking about revenger again today and even though i've talked about this before i can't not talk about it again

i am usually not the type to complain about translations (unless it is something especially egregious such as the yuzuki-san ep1 debacle) and i wouldn't even call this a complaint really

but something so significant and so beautiful was lost in translation in ep8 of revenger

this is the relevant scene:

background for context:

raizou (black hair here) is on a quest for revenge after the death of his wife (the woman in the painting, which raizou painted himself) and he's taken on 'taishin' as a pseudonym to sell his art (for which he discovered a talent and passion during this revenge quest)

his wife's name was yui, and white hair here (the leader of this ragtag band of revengers) is named usui yuen

all of this is relevant

the main issue here is... the character 唯, which was originally written on the painting, has been translated as 'tai' which later becomes 'taishin' when raizou adds a few strokes and a second character to form his pseudonym

but what is 唯 actually? it's... yui

the original character on the painting, 唯, is his wife's name. and usui's name? 碓氷幽烟

key character being: 碓

the subtitles do capture the significance of raizou taking a character from usui's name to make his pseudonym, and that's great. but that isn't all he did. with two strokes he changed the 口 to a 石, he changed his wife's name into a character from usui's name and then added a 心 (heart!) to make it his own

there are a whole lot of reasons this is Special to me but that would require going into the rest of the show which i won't do lol, the dynamics are fascinating but this post is already getting way too long

anyway i just think this is a suuuper normal and well-adjusted thing he did there, didn't alter my brain chemistry at all (lying) and i just need more people to know about it because i think the subs (while doing imo as best as they could!) really did not make it possible for most viewers to catch this

[misanthropicgardener]

its both!!!!! it is so so important that their motives here were Both

[stzrgirl4norris]

Sonnet No. 33 - MV1

Max Verstappen x Student!Reader

summary: Max falls in love with the cute fan who is also a double major student with a lot to teach him

based on this request

notes: i have no idea if juilliard has an english major, i also don't know how U.S colleges work, but for the sake of this smau let's pretend it does this way

📍Juilliard, New York

liked by yourbff, yourroommate, maxverstappen1 and 456 others

yourusername Uni life, literature, musical theory, and one very important Sunday. Congrats on the win maxverstappen1 🏁💙

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yourbff this max guy owns me for hearing you screaming at the screen for 2 hours 💀

maxverstappen1 Thanks! I like your bookshelf by the way.

↪︎ yourusername wait WHAT ↪︎ user bro blink twice if you’re being held hostage by your own emotions ↪︎ user what is HAPPENING here??? ↪︎ user this is adorable. and terrifying. carry on.

user why is max randomly replying to fans????

user can someone explain how she got Verstappen to engage in emotionally intelligent dialogue because I can’t get a guy to reply to “hey”

yourroomate i’ve never seen you sprint across the dorm faster than when you saw that comment 💀💀

user Max Verstappen replying to a redheaded lit/music major from yale… I smell a ✨plotline✨

user “I like your bookshelf btw.” Sir. What does that even MEAN????

⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩

liked by yourbff, yourroommate, maxverstappen1 and 23,455 others

yourusername New week, new breakdown. But the piano solo slapped and I finally got a flat white that didn’t taste like existential dread. Small wins count 🥹🩷

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maxverstappen1: think you liked the keychain 😎

> yourusername I DID! it’s everywhere with me now > maxverstappen1 I’ll make sure to send you a cap next time > yourusername I think that counts as a legally binding statement

user Max is down bad and this is adorable

user Bro is out here giving keychains 💀

user the bookshelf is now lore. the keychain is lore.

user Max, tell the truth. She’s made you read Jane Austen, hasn’t she?

↪︎ maxverstappen1 no. something worse.

yourbff I would like to publicly announce that i am such a fan of this

user Max said: ‘girl studies books, I study HER’ 😭

user WHAT IS GOING ON HERE I’M SWEATING???

user not me shipping this like it’s canon and I’ve read ONE comment thread

user the bookshelf comment. the keychain. ladies we’ve got a CRUSH developing in real time

user now I’m imagining her studying with live timing in the background while he texts her from the garage 😭😭

⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩

📍Monte Carlo

liked by maxverstappen1, redbull, yourbff and 65,493 others

yourusername books closed. dress zipped. weekend saved. 🥂🌊

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maxverstappen1 You forgot the picture of me winning.

> yourusername there are plenty of those online already 😘

user THIS COMMENT SECTION IS KILLING ME

danielricciardo The man is GONE. GONEEEE 😭

yourbff My bestie flew to Monaco and came back smugger than a triple world champ

user HOLD ON IS THAT MAX WITH THE WHITE CAP???

user Soft launch speedrun unlocked

user this whole thing is SICK AND TWISTED

user not a single tag but every girl with anxiety and a Red Bull hoodie knew it was Max immediately

user oh your honor they are in love.

user And now she’s back at uni reading Wuthering Heights pretending she wasn’t kissed on a yacht at midnight

user he liked her bookshelf and now she’s in Monaco. we’re in a romcom.

user i don’t even go to uni and I suddenly want to major in Literature 😭

user He’s such a Cancer moon I swear to god

user Is she gonna be in the paddock at Silverstone next???

user showed this to my mom and she said, “she has the look of a girl he’d fall for.” I’m emotionally unwell.

⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩ ⋆ ┄ ⋆ ✩

liked by redbull, yourusername, lando and 9,112,412 others

maxverstappen1 Strong weekend. Good car. Great company. 🏁💙

(Tagged: yourusername)

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yourusername what happened to soft launching??

> maxverstappen1 Do I look like I know what that is?

danielricciardo AND JUST LIKE THAT HE IS IN LOVE

lando "great company” bro she made you eat vegetables this week admit it

charles_leclerc yourusername I'm sorry you have to endure him

> maxverstappen1 Be careful, I know where your dog lives.

user from bookshelf to podium. we rise.

user Verstappen HARD LAUNCHED Literature Girlfriend™ and I, for one, have not emotionally recovered.

user not max's rizz being about a BOOKSHELF

user can't believe i lived to see this day🧡

user HIS INTERVIEW SAYING, “I admire people who are passionate about what they love.” AND THEN THIS POST I'M IN AWE

pierregasly Did she write your caption or do you just sound like this when you’re in love?

georgerussell63 Charles owes me £50. I said it would be Belgium. Pay up.

> charles_leclerc 🙄🙄🙄

user My man went from “I don’t have time for distractions” to kissing her in the garage with one eye closed 😭😭

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

──── FIRST KISSES, SECOND CHANCES . ↳ one shot // also part of the no doubt series !

✎ᝰ .ᐟ aka he's this close to passing out because you're way too pretty and he wants to kiss you so bad—but he's an idiot, a loser in love, and totally losing his mind over you.

── sim jaeyun x f!reader ౨ৎ wc. 985 ⌗ fluff, kisskiss, jake is this close to going insane, mentions of jake wanting to die but not literally─poor guy is just losing his mind over y/n

↳ IMPORTANT NOTE .ᐟ ── this is part of my no doubt series ─ a sequel series of short drabbles that take place after the events of my fic no doubt, and show jake & reader's relationship throughout their first year together (& how jake wins her trust & love back hehe) ── THIS CAN BE READ AS A ONE-SHOT, however, there will be some easter eggs if you've read no doubt before!

↳ addie's ✉ .ᐟ ── omg tytyty everyone for the love with this series so far !!! i actually love jakeyn so much im so invested in this in ways that are highkey unhealthy...ANYWAYS! one of jake & yn's many firsts! writing this actually made me cheese so hard god im so single pls. jake is also like borderline unwell HAHA

It’s the kind of day where life feels like it’s straight out of a movie.

Soft sunlight, the perfect temperature, a gentle breeze, birds chirping. 

Perfect.

And yet—Jake wants to shrivel up into a hole and die.

The two of you are just lying there, propped up on your sides across from one another on the plush picnic blanket, an array of snacks and sandwiches (that Jake definitely didn’t wake up at 7AM to buy from the corner bakery you like so much in fear they would sell out before he had the chance to get them) scattered between you two, and you’re laughing at something he said—and god, he doesn’t even remember what he said—when it hits him.

And oh my god, it hits him hard.

He can’t think straight anymore.

Your eyes are sparkling like they always do when you laugh, your face is glowing with that effortless smile that makes him want to explode.

The way your hair blows slightly in the wind—how it catches the light in a way that makes him swear the sun only shines to make you glow. How your laugh just does something to him that makes it feel like the whole world stopped just so he could hear it.

And it’s all too much.

Jake feels his heart rate spike, his chest tighten, and before he knows it, he’s staring at your lips—just your lips—and your words are starting to sound like mush.

God, he wants to kiss you.

Like, really kiss you.

And the thought alone makes him feel like his heart’s about to break through his ribcage and find its way out of his chest.

But then, of course—the voice of reason pops in.

The same, annoying, one that always shows up right when he lets himself want this too much. The same one that fights him in this very, very common battle…almost daily.

Is this even a good idea? What if you’re not ready? What if it’s just too much, too soon for you?

What if he completely ruins everything before he even gets the chance to have it?

“Hey.”

Jake jolts out of his thoughts. You’re staring at him now, an amused smile playing at your lips as you nudge his arm.

“You okay?”

Jake blinks.

Forces his eyes back to your own (not her lips, Jake, not her lips, NOT HER LIPS).

Then, he clears his throat, shifting slightly as he tries his best to act normal.

“Yeah. Yeah, um, just—,” he places his sandwich down, his hands shaking slightly—god, Jake, “Just…still a little hungry.”

A beat of silence.

He immediately mentally smacks himself because, what the hell, Jake?

You raise an eyebrow.

“Jake, you literally just had a sandwich in your hands.”

“…Right, yeah. Right.”

Another beat.

Then—

You giggle.

Soft. Breathless. Perfect.

And Jake?

It ruins him.

He wants to jump off a cliff.

His heart is hammering, his vision is starting to go a little fuzzy, and he’s pretty sure he’s a solid two business seconds away from either a) passing out, or b) spontaneously combusting—whichever comes first.

He can’t focus. He can't think. He just—

He needs to kiss you.

Like, right now. Like, he literally cannot hold it together anymore.

So, without thinking—without giving himself any more time to overthink it—he leans in. Just slightly.

Your eyes widen, his breath catches, because—you’re so close and he swears you can probably hear his heart beating.

He smells your shampoo, his palms are sweating, and he’s definitely about to pass out, but all he can do is stare at your lips, then at your eyes. Then back at your lips again.

Jake doesn’t even think. He doesn’t even say anything. He just does it.

His lips press softly against yours—so gently at first that it’s barely there, as if he’s testing the waters, as if he’s expecting you to pull away.

But you don’t.

You don’t pull away.

And his heart explodes.

It’s instant. Everything falls into place in that very moment, every ounce of tension in his body immediately melts away.

Jake can’t help but sigh into the kiss, finally allowing himself to give in completely, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, holding you as if you’re something delicate—something so beautiful he could never dream of ruining.

And then you do something that completely, utterly, wrecks him—

You kiss him back.

Softly, almost shyly at first, like you’re just as overwhelmed as he is. But then—oh god—

Your hand goes up and your fingers curl into his collar, tugging ever so slightly, pulling him in even deeper, and Jake 100% knows he never wants to go back to what life was like before this moment.

He’s dizzy. Weightless. Completely and entirely yours in every possible way.

He also forgets how to breathe.

But that doesn’t matter.

Nothing else in the world matters except this kiss, except you.

Jake feels himself smiling into it—because, oh god, this is actually happening—and hears you giggle slightly as you finally pull away, a little breathless.

He’s starstruck, paralyzed. He’s still staring at your lips in disbelief, then back to your eyes, then back at your lips before blinking himself back to reality.

“That was—” he starts, but you cut him off.

“That was way too long coming, don’t you think?” you tease, your eyes sparkling, lips still tingling from the kiss.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he grins, his hand gently brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “But don’t worry. I’ll make up for lost time.”

You roll your eyes, but—there’s something about the way you look at him that makes him feel like the luckiest guy on the planet.

“I’m holding you to that, Jakey.”

And then—

You tilt your head up and press another soft, fleeting kiss to his lips before pulling back with the softest smile.

Yup.

He’s definitely the luckiest guy on the planet.

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[memorydragon]

The only problem with older games is when a scene absolutely destroys you and there's not a single gifset. 🙃

[yellowsubiesdance]

tried to watch a video of them playing headfirst slide live, and i found one from yesterday 🙃 i started getting irrationally angry and had to turn it off

[petalbcrnes]

❀﹒﹒⇅﹒𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐃𝐀𝐘﹒∿

⤷   🥝 ﹒ the bat-boys taking care of you when you’re sick !!

　　﹕   (✿˘͈ᵕ˘͈)   ┈ #directory #rules .

　　┊   ♡   ﹒  my throat hurt this morning and all i wanted to do was curl up in small ball and sleep all day,,, but alas i have exams :⁠-⁠( i managed to write general hcs for the bat-boys today <3 i use medicine jargon here, i’m not sure it’s correct so don’t get mad at me </3 i tried to use as many sources as i could.

↦   ⟡   ∬ incl  ﹒  jason, dick, damian, tim & duke.

❛   ꜝ   ┈   ✺ cw  ﹒  sfw all the way. of course there is being sick described and also some prescriptions + meds.

𓏲𓏲⠀⠀.. ⠀You’re sick with a nasty cold that’s left you feeling miserable and exhausted. What started as a scratchy throat yesterday has turned into full-blown congestion, aches, and that foggy-headed feeling that makes even watching TV seem like too much effort. You’ve been trying to tough it out, but when your boyfriend finds out you’re unwell, he immediately springs into action. ✶

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐉𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐃 ︶︶

Panics internally but tries to play it cool externally. Jason’s top priority is you and your comfort. The moment he hears your sniffles and coughs a switch is flipped in his brain. Getting sick is not something to freak out about— he knows that, but he just can’t help but worry so much.

Googles your symptoms obsessively and convinces himself you’re dying three separate times. He’s surfing the web for any kind of information to make you feel better. He mjght freak himself out a little by the information he finds, but for you he tells himself to get jt together.

Shows up with comfort food from your favorite places instead of medicine. Not that he doesn’t understand the importance of taking the correct medication. He just wants you to feel comfortable while recovering.

┄　🗨️　So I got your favorite soup, some of those crackers you like, and—... okay, I may have bought out the entire bakery section because I didn’t know what you’d want.

Reads to you in his deep, soothing voice until you fall asleep. You might have mentioned how his voice helps you relax. He remembers everything you tell him so he tries to use every way to soothe you— one of them being his voice. He’ll have his hand softly caressing you to bring you comfort as well.

Hovers awkwardly because he wants to help but doesn't want to overwhelm you. He’s trying. He really is. To Jason, all of this is fairly new— the domestic feeling of making someone tea to warm them up, tucking them in bed and checking their temperature. It’s new territory in the relationship.

Makes surprisingly good tea because Alfred taught all the boys basic care skills. Even if Jason might lack skill in making more detailed and harder dishes, simple tea he can do.

He gets in contact with Alfred. Jason asks him for advice— which blend of tea should he use? Any particular medicine he should buy? Alfred indulges him. It’s all very soft.

Jason gets genuinely upset that he can’t fight your illness for you. He’s used to dealing with his problems quickly and efficiently. Now he needs patience. It’s all different with you. He cant afford to have you in any more discomfort.

┄　🗨️　I just—... I hate that you’re hurting and I can’t do anything about it. I can fight criminals but I can’t punch a virus.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐒𝐎𝐍 ︶︶

Goes full mother hen mode and calls in sick to work immediately. Detective Grayson? Oh, he’s not available. Nightwing? He’s getting someone else to protect Blüdhaven tonight. You need him right now and he’s not leaving.

Shows up with half of CVS pharmacy because he wasn’t sure what kind of sick you were. He’s making sure he has all the medicine you need. He buys all sorts of medicinal tea blends— even though those test awful, he’s reminding you how much you need it and how it’ll help you recover.

┄　🗨️　Okay, I got DayQuil, NyQuil, regular Tylenol, extra strength Tylenol, throat lozenges, and—... wait, do you think you need a humidifier?

Attempts to make chicken soup from scratch despite never cooking anything more complex than cereal. Listen, he’s trying. Trying so hard for you.

┄　🗨️　The recipe says 'simmer gently' but I don't know what that means so I just... made it really hot? Why is it bubbling like that?

Keeps checking your temperature every twenty minutes “just to be sure.” He’s always near you, hovering over you and watching every twitch and move.

Insists on helping you move or just straight up carrying you everywhere, even just to the bathroom, because “you need to conserve energy.”

┄　🗨️　No, no, don’t get up! I’ll carry you. What if you get dizzy? What if you fall? I’m not risking it.

Puts on your favorite comfort movies but talks through all of them because he’s worried about you. He wants you to distract yourself from the sickness. At the same time his anxiety is through the roof. To calm down he talks to you.

Tucks you in so tightly you can barely move, claiming it's “maximum comfort optimization.” You’ll look like those blanket burritos after he’s done.

Texts the family group chat asking for medical advice and gets 47 different contradictory responses. Gives up and just calls Alfred or Bruce.

Falls asleep sitting up in a chair next to your bed because he refuses to leave your side.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐍𝐄 ︶︶

Damian might be more reserved when it comes to freely showing his feelings, but in this situation he’s not afraid to show how much he cares. It all comes naturally to him— he knows every step he needs to take to make sure you are recovering.

Brings you homemade remedies that are actually surprisingly effective. He made them himself. His knowledge of medicine might surprise you a little.

┄　🗨️　This is a traditional remedy. Not only does it taste good, it is affective as well. No, you don’t get to refuse it.

Sits stiffly in a chair nearby, claiming he’s “just reading” but clearly watching you. You feel his gaze. It’s like a comforting blanket.

┄　🗨️　I’m not ‘hovering,’ I’m simply ensuring you follow proper recovery steps. There’s a difference

Alfred the cat somehow ends up curled up with you because Damian thinks pets are therapeutic. He’d let Titus join in too, but the bed’s getting a little crowded. He leaves Titus with you, trusting him to be on alert.

Makes you traditional healing teas his mother taught him about. For example: Chamomile (bābūnaj) for reducing stress and anxiety, alleviating pain and discomfort, and also improving sleep and insomnia; Cardamom (hāl) is said to help digestion and increase saliva flow. Pretty expensive as well. But only the best for you.

He makes you get-well cards but leaves them on your nightstand without saying anything. Listen, he’s showing you his affection for you in everyway. Plus, the cards are beautifully done.

Insists you follow his very specific recovery regimen because “I know what's best.” He’s well versed in this type of situation and knows how to help best.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐓𝐈𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐄 ︶︶

Creates a detailed spreadsheet of your symptoms, medications, and recovery timeline. He has everything planned out. A little overboard, but still collected about it all.

┄　🗨️　Your fever peaked at 38.6°C at 3:47 AM but it’s down to 38.1°C now, which suggests the acetaminophen is working effectively.

Sets seventeen different alarms to remind you to take medicine, drink water, eat, etc. He understands if you feel to tired for it all, but he still reminds you the importance of it all and is right next to you everytime you take your medication.

Researches your illness so thoroughly he could write a medical paper about it. Tim is already smart. He’s even more invested in this topic because it concerns you.

┄　🗨️　So, I’ve cross-referenced your symptoms with twelve medical databases and created an optimal recovery schedule. Medicine every four hours, fluids every thirty minutes. Seems easy enough.

Brings his laptop to work from your bedside so he can monitor you constantly. He’ll work while keeping an eye on you.

Orders everything you could possibly need online for same-day delivery. He’s making sure you two have everything. Nothing is overlooked.

Makes you the perfect cup of tea/coffee because he’s memorized exactly how you like it.

Tries to stays up all night watching you sleep to make sure you’re breathing okay. He does fall asleep, of course. It’s endearing, but it worries you because he might not be getting enough sleep. He relents after you ask him to rest.

Documents everything “for future reference” in case you get sick again. He’s making sure the two of you are 100% ready to take care of eachother if any of you get sick again.

┄　🗨️　what if I miss something important? What if you get worse because I wasn’t paying attention?

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

. 　 ✺ 　 ⁺ 𝐃𝐔𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 ︶︶

Brings sunshine energy to your sick day, literally and figuratively. He’s probably the most collected bat-boy in this situation alongside Damian. He’s not freaking out. He knows you need him right now.

Shows up with your favorite comfort snacks and a playlist of feel-good movies. Your comfort is number one on his list of his so called ‘very affective recovery plan.’

┄　🗨️　I brought comedies, but also some documentaries in case you want something low-key. And snacks! Lots of snacks.

Uses his light powers to create soft, warm lighting that doesn’t hurt your head. His light feels so warm and soft. It isn’t too much. It’s just the right amount.

┄　🗨️　I can adjust the lighting if it’s too bright. Perks of dating someone with light powers, right?

Tells you funny stories and jokes to keep your spirits up. Makes you laugh even when you feel terrible, which somehow makes you feel better.

┄　🗨️　You laughed! That’s the first time you've smiled all day. See? Laughter really is the best medicine.

Brings you flowers or plants because “they brighten up the room.” In reality he’s the one lighting up the room.

Checks in via text constantly when he can’t be there in person. Feels a little guilty he can’t be with you all the time. The check-ins soothe his worry abit.

Makes sure you’re getting enough vitamin D by opening all the curtains. He’s making sure you’re getting some clean air as well. There’s fresh water by your bedside table all the time.

His genuine concern and sweet nature makes being sick almost worth it. Celebrates with you when you start feeling better like you've won a major victory.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　

﹒   ♪   ┊ INBOX OPEN.⠀⠀feel free to send me asks and suggestions in my inbox. ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

˖ `· . 𓏵 © 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐁𝐂𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 don’t use my work without my consent. ... ⏤ㅤ Ⳋ ⊹

[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 may have been 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.

[whatsverstappeningnow]

it's a pas de deux

carlos sainz x ballerina!reader

★ smau ★ after the drivers attend a ballet performance as part of their Imola GP media duties, Carlos finds himself falling for the star ballerina.

yourusername

liked by user55, rachel.yes and more

stressed about nothing in particular

comments

liv.in.motion pls save the panic spiral for after curtain call, thanks. 😀✌️

-> yourusername if i faint mid-grand jeté just roll me off stage please

-> liv.in.motion i'll just step over you, don't worry!!!

-> yourusername i love having supportive friends!!! (jk, love you)

-> liv.in.motion 💋 (love you too)

balletfantatic everyone watching tomorrow should be honoured to see you move tbh.

user32 jealous of everyone who gets to watch you dance live 😭 THAT SHOULD BE MEEEE

rachel.yes who gets stressed when they look this flawless practicing??

-> yourusername you guys are so sweet <3

bestieuser stop acting like u aren't gonna slay tomorrow night pls

-> yourusername LET ME BE STRESSED ABOUT THEM WATCHING

-> bestieuser at least if you wipeout onstage there will be plenty of people who can drive you to the hospital!

-> piston-cup wait... who's 'them'...

->yourusername ...i fear we have already said too much

noa.dances nothing like crippling pre-show dread to say we’re back onstage 😌

f1updates

liked by piston-cup, coolgirlhp and more

Turns out the pre-race chaos won’t be confined to the track 👀 The drivers were spotted arriving at the historic Teatro Comunale di Imola earlier this evening to attend a ballet performance ahead of race weekend. No official reason for the visit has been given, but sources say they were personally invited by members of the company (and yes, they cleaned up very nicely for the occasion).

comments

speedyyeah nah bc i blinked and now they’re doing arts and culture?? is this some Italian FIA outreach program i’m not aware of

-> coolgirlhp HELPPPPP

f1fantatic i wasn't aware they knew what ballet was...

-> user1 someone please check if they clapped at the wrong time. i feel it in my soul.

-> user55 everyone is forgetting they are basically all super rich, this is very on brand i fear

speeddrive i swear my clothes were JUST on !!!

fanpage carlos looking extra fine? oh suddenly i believe in the importance of ballet.

user18 if this was PR it worked. i am fully invested. emotionally compromised. spiritually unwell.

simplylovelyyeah you’re telling me yourusername was stressed because Carlos Sainz was in the audience?? yeah I’d worry about passing out too

-> balletbabes suddenly the pre-show nerves are making a LOT more sense

yourusername has posted a story

replies

besiteuser EXCUSE ME. WHO GOT YOU THOSE. bc those were NOT from management and we both KNOW IT

-> yourusername so funny story !!! a certain guest at last night's show sent them to my dressing room... 😀

-> besiteuser UM. you told me you didn't get to speak to any of the drivers???

-> yourusername i didn't...

-> besiteuser GIRL THEY SAW YOU DANCE ONCE AND SENT YOU ROSES??? WHO TF SENDS ROSES TO PEOPLE THEY'VE NEVER SPOKEN TO????

-> yourusername carlos sainz apparently

-> besiteuser AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-> yourusername i'm glad we are both staying calm about this

yourusername has posted a close friends story

f1updates

liked by user65, booklover2 and more

📸 BREAKING NEWS 📸 Carlos Sainz has been spotted tonight returning to historic Teatro Comunale di Imola. No other drivers were present. Fans at the ballet noted that he was seated in a private box and was carrying a boquet of roses. He was later spotted leaving via the dancers exit hand in hand with the companies lead dancer... has Carlos found love at the ballet?

comments

checkeredheart this is not and drill. THIS IS NOT A DRILL.

gridgirlgossip am I delusional or is carlos leaning in for a kiss in the third photo

-> user5 WAIT I SEE IT TOO

user90 carlos sainz watching a 3 hour ballet twice in 48 hours just because the girl he likes is it it... girls if he wanted to HE WOULD

drivefaster omg guys. the flowers yourusername posted the other day must have been from carlos too... ITS ALL COMING TOGETHER

user55 i don't know who i'm more jealous of

rachel.no seeing carlos in a suit twice in one week? oh we are being spoiled

->yourusername you're welcome!

-> rachel.no OMG HI??!?!?!?!?!

goingwild not yourusername basically IMMEDIATELY confirming this is all true 😭 ok we get it girl thats your man now

yourusername has posted a close friends story

carlos.sainz

liked by piston-cup, yourusername and more

dressing (and undressing) for the theatre

comments have been restricted for this post

yourusername photo creds?

-> carlos.sainz photo 3 credits to yourusername

taglist: @verogonewild @piston-cup

credit for the pink bow dividers goes to @cursed-carmine

another short fluffy smau! i hope you enjoyed <3

[kykyonthemoon]

Under The Weather

Zayne came to visit you when you were unwell, and turned out, you were not the only one who needed special care.

── .✦ Zayne x Female Reader|MC

♡︎. Tags: fluff, sweet, soft domestic fluff, tender loving care, established relationship, sickness, seasonal flu and usage of medication.

♡︎. Word count: ~1k

── .✦ Masterlist ♡ Request a fic - currently closed.

In a dreaming state, you woke up at midday. The doorbell rang, and you had to force yourself to move your painful, fatigued body. 

Zayne was waiting for you outside. At that moment, you immediately recalled something really important.

You had stood Zayne up.

That Saturday morning was supposed to be your date at the cinema with Zayne. But in the early morning, you had a fever and ultimately fell asleep. You turned to look at the wall clock inside the room and felt even more guilty.

Zayne, though, remained silent. Just by looking at your current state, he could tell why you did not show up at the cinema. The first thing he did after entering your flat was take your temperature.

“S-Sorry, Zayne…” You mumbled while he got you some medication. “But… How was the movie?”

"I don't know." His voice echoed from the kitchen, where he was pouring a cup of water. 

“Huh?… Didn't you watch it?”

Zayne appeared in front of you. In one hand he carried a few pills, and in the other a glass of warm water. He spread both of them in front of you, bending down slightly to be within your reach on the sofa.

“I bought two tickets. If I only used one, the remaining would feel very lonely.”

Despite your feeble grin, it seemed as though a bit more life had been infused into the flower that was your heart.

“Sorry that I made you wait…” You replied after taking the medication. All of a sudden, you could picture Zayne sitting by himself at the cinema, two tickets in hand, soft drinks and popcorn beside him. You were filled with guilt. You felt so guilty. “You can just call me next time, if something like this happens again.”

“I did make a call.”

"Huh? I don't remember receiving any call..." 

You quickly found the phone on the table and turned it on. There were dozens of calls and messages from Zayne with no response. You must have fallen deep asleep, as you did not  know anything. 

Zayne lowered himself in front of you with one knee bent on the floor. He looked up at you, his hand gently ruffled your hair.

“"It's fortunate that you didn't get yourself into any trouble scarier than a fever.”

You grinned. Zayne treated you with gentleness as always. Even when you had stood him up, he did not get angry and came to your place to take care of you. All of a sudden, you were dying to kiss him. Yet when you softly closed your eyes and leaned towards his direction, your nose started to itch, causing you to sneeze violently and collapsing into Zayne instead.

He held you in his arms, caressing your soft hair. Just as you were about to sneeze again, Zayne snatched up a tissue from the table and carefully put it to your nose. Your hair was disheveled and your whole face reddened. You were still in your jammies with snowmen on them. You were so embarrassed to let him see you looking that unkempt. Zayne, though, only gave you a soft stroke on the face, saying that you should rest some more. He would take care of lunch. You drifted off into another dream right after Zayne carried you back to the bedroom.

When you woke up, he had finished preparing porridge and a light meal. Since you still wanted to make it up to Zayne for that movie both of you had missed that morning, you suggested another one at home. You curled up on the sofa, leaning against him. Remembering what he had mentioned during the meal earlier that there had been a seasonal flu epidemic in Linkon recently, you quickly rose up and moved far away from him, all the way to the other side of the sofa. Zayne rolled his eyes at you, wondering why you were acting so strange. 

“I don't want to give Doctor Zayne my flu…” You clarified.

Zayne smiled, shaking his head slightly. He gradually moved towards you until you were both sitting side by side like earlier. 

“I have a strong immune system. I am capable of taking care of you in every way without becoming sick."

Undoubtedly, you took Zayne's word for it and allowed him to look after you for the next few days. However, by the time you recovered, he was the one to get sick.

“I thought Doctor Zayne was so confident about his immune system.” While taking his temperature, you could not resist teasing him more.

Zayne lay on the bed without responding. His nose tip was red from excessive sneezing, and his body was heated from a fever. You took the opportunity to poke his cheek several times. His face reddened even more, and he appeared uneasy while lying still. Doctor Zayne seldom became so submissive and tolerated your bothering him to this extent.

You assisted him in taking his medication and urge him to get more rest.

“You should… go home… I'll be fine again tomorrow…” Zayne said. 

"I'm not leaving. You caught the flu from me, didn't you? It is now my responsibility to take care of you until you fully recover!"

Zayne met your determined gaze. He smiled softly. 

“Heal me then, Doc-tor.”

You leaned down, about to kiss him, but Zayne quickly put a hand on his lips to stop you.

“That is... not something we can do right now…”

You grimaced before giving his knuckles a tender kiss. 

"So you have to make it up to me later once you get better, Doctor Zayne," you said.

[lakeffect]

An Unexpected Evening

Warnings: Capitano x Reader, not sfw, mutual masturbation, slight coercion

A/N: A piece posted from my Ao3, a gift for @gojoidyll for their stubborn hearts series. Posted here after a request.

It had nearly been a month since your impromptu arranged marriage to Capitano. The first of the Lord Harbingers. He was a notoriously aloof and enigmatic figure, and thus far, married life had been far from standard. Not that it bothered you per se. You both agreed to have minimal expectations of one another. However, you weren’t entirely used to your independence being hampered by the proximity that marriage brought. You two now shared a home, a bed, and the occasional bath, and while you didn’t mind, sharing these important spaces made it difficult for you to have much-needed “me time,” especially in light of the fact you and your husband had yet to be intimate. 

It is late, and Capitano is in his office. You’d spent much of the afternoon helping to archive some older documents at his request, and while you were happy to help, you hadn’t been able to be very far from him since his return home last week. He’d often request your company for all manner of tasks and activities. It was evidence that your marriage was going far better than expected, considering it seemed that Capitano really enjoyed your presence or was putting in effort to acclimate to you, but all of this attention is also what has you feeling rather frustrated as of late. 

“Um, my lord. Is it alright if we sleep in separate quarters tonight?” It had taken you all night to gather the courage to make such a request, but you were pent up and desperate for release. 

“Why? Are you unwell?” Capitano's brows furrowed with concern as his hand came to his favorite perch on your chin, tilting your face this way and that as an impromptu medical examination. Gently, you gripped his wrist and pressed forward with your gambit. 

“No, I would. I just like a bit of alone time, just for this evening.”

Your husband's lips pursed. It was clear this was not an acceptable solution to him, so you offered a compromise.  

“I could even come back later in the night if that would be preferable.” 

Capitano's eyes narrowed, before a slight look of epiphany flashed across his features. “Wife, do you intend to touch yourself? 

“What! No, I-” You stuttered, embarrassed he would state things so plainly. Not that it was all too surprising based on what you knew of his character. 

“Do not lie to me. I am your husband, and you needn’t be coy with such matters.” He said sternly. Your eyes snapped to meet his gaze, knowing well that if you didn’t meet his eye, he would simply make you. 

“Yes.” You admitted, shoulders slumping with embarrassment but doing your best not to break eye contact. “I felt it would be rather inconsiderate to do so next to you while you slept.” That and you usually kept the light on to read whatever smut novel you liked from your collection. It was quite a challenge balancing a book, flipping pages while stimulating yourself, but you’d gotten the science down to an art. Capitano’s expression relaxes, and you feel a bit of hope that he’ll grant you what you desire. 

“Thank you for your consideration, wife.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back after-” You eagerly assure him, a light smile settling on your lips, but your excitement is interrupted, by your husband's thunderous voice. 

“You get ahead of yourself, wife.” He raises an eyebrow. “I will not permit you to sleep in the other chambers tonight.”

“Oh…alright.” You sigh. Perhaps he would at least allow you to bathe alone…balancing a book in the tub was tricky, but you’d managed before.

“But do not fret. You are permitted to masturbate in our shared quarters.” You cringe at his phrasing but continue on in desperate need of a bit of clarification on the logistics of exactly how you’ll get off…privately, of course. 

“…and where will you be, my lord?” You question.

“I shall be watching.” Capitano attempts to hide his grin as you gasp at his declaration, and the color drains from your face. 

“Oh no, that’s quite alright.” Touching your tender parts in front of your husband was out of the question. Besides a few kisses and bathing with each on the rare occasion he was home, you and Capitano were nowhere close to consummating your marriage as far as you were concerned, but even so, this ask to touch yourself, to bring yourself to completion in front of his steely eyes, felt like an even more intimate prospect than sex.

Capitano catches your flustered expression, eyes darting back and forth as his piercing stare silently demands your attention.

“While I am home, you will take your pleasure with me or not at all.” His countenance is stern. You instantly understand this is an important rule to follow if you want to stay in your husband's good graces. And to a certain point, you understand his perspective. He is seldom home, and to pleasure yourself without him would be cruel, but you had not yet broached actual intimacy…how would you manage such a task!?

“I promise it’s not an event that would be worth watching.” You try to insist. Eyes quietly pleading with him to just allow you to have your privacy. 

“I shall see for myself.” Capitano peered over your shoulder. “Are those your materials?’” He gestured to the book you had held behind you back. 

Your face threatened to burst into flames, but any further protest would likely only upset your husband, with your glance askance you quietly muttered “yes.”

“I can read it for you, so you may use both hands.”

“No, it’s ok!” You urge politely.

“Then you will read it aloud so I may hear what arouses you.” He suggests instead. 

Fuck. This was certainly not the anticipated or desired turn of events. 

The short novella you’d selected was an absolutely debauched tale about a menage-á-trois, where a married couple corrupts a young, innocent maiden who stays weekend at their country estate in Fontaine. Capitano would certainly think that you were a horribly lewd young woman if he heard this. 

“I’ll pick another selection-“ Capitano interrupts you by abruptly rising from his seat. 

“No, we’ve already wasted enough time on this matter tonight.” With that, Capitano grabbed your arm, his burly hand gently tugging you out of his office and up to your bedroom. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was rather eager to watch your toy with yourself—something you’d never done for an audience. 

Should you try to make it good for him? Being deliberately sexy was not something you were familiar with, any perceived sexiness in your past intimate encounters was just consequence of your desperate arousal. 

Ugh…you were regretting not just trying to figure out a workaround in the bath. Maybe if you’d perched your book on the end of the tub between the faucet and spout, you flip the pages with your toes? And just drape one foot over the side so your toes wouldn’t wet the pages? 

But then again, you’d ruled out that idea because Capitano’s tub was made for a man of his size and stature, the end of the tub was nearly a mile from the back rest-

“Wife. Make yourself comfortable.” Your husband drops your hand as he finished guiding you to your shared chambers. The opulent room is on the top floor of his manor, and while the wooden finishes are beautifully dark and glossed and the windows suitably grand and imposing, the furnishing in the room remained rather spare. 

Thanks to you there was now a plush rug, set of twin wardrobes and a perfectly situated  chaise, oriented to look across the dark forest to the nearby bay. Before the bedroom consisted of  just a bed, a rather cruel looking bearskin rug and one side table with every drawer neatly packed with a variety of state documents. But even with your additions in the dim candle light the room felt cavernous. It would take quite a bit more furniture to make things feel homey in your opinion. 

You glanced at Capitano as he pulled his night clothes from his armoire, without missing a beat you moved to do the same, but you struggled with the the back of your corset. Normally a lady would help you undress for bed but Capitano had seemingly been so impatient for this evenings decided course of events that you were now stuck fumbling with the laces on your back. 

You let out of slight groan as your nail bent crudely as you picked at ribbons, but before you could even register his advance Capitano was at your back. His hands surprisingly deft and focused as he worked you out of the piece of supportive clothing.  

“Thank you. “ You spoke softly but gasped in shock when your husband immediately went to pull you out of your dress and underdress, pulling both layers in one go, leaving you only in your stockings and garters. 

You were too shocked to utter any rebuttal, and it seemed that Capitano interpreted this as consent to strip you entirely.

You felt his course hands glide down your thigh to begin undoing your garter and pulling the stockings down your legs, but his thumb grazed too close to your bare cunt, and you leapt away from the contact. Entirely unprepared for the feeling of his coarse hand against your silky flesh. 

“It’s ok husband I’ll do this part, thank you for your assistance.” With no more than a grunt of  approval Capitano retreated to the bed as you undid your stockings and put them away. You cast a glance over your shoulder only to see your husband reclined on his side of the bed and quickly scanning a fresh stack of documents as he waited for you. Turning back to your wardrobe, you reach for a nightgown, but you are interrupted by your husband’s booming voice.

“You won’t need that until later now come.” He patted your side of the bed.

You hesitated at his command, a bit petrified at the prospect of laying next to Capitano naked, especially when he had the privilege of being clad in silk pants and a matching buttoned top which laid open against the firm planes of his chest and torso, dimly illuminated by lamp light. 

“Okay.” You muttered softly, resigning your yourself to the surprising turn of tonight's events. 

As you climbed into bed, Capitano handed you your book. He must have grabbed it while you were busy undressing. It was already open to the flap with the plot summary. Ugh, archons save you.  You gingerly took the book from him and placed it on you pillow. The poor novella was so accustomed to being used for this nightly ritual that its spine gave absolutely no resistance and fell prone, pages splayed against downy sheets. 

Your nerves were through the roof, so to calm yourself, you decided it would be best just to pretend your husband wasn’t there and that you were alone in your old dark bedroom in the attic, reading by candlelight. 

Your favorite position was a bit unconventional. Turning over in the bed, you got on all fours before sinking to your forearms and leaning back on your heels. Capitano let out a light groan as he watched you prostrate yourself, his hand slowly stroking against his thigh.

“Begin.” He encourages gruffly. 

Like you’ve done hundreds of times in your dark bedroom, you slide your hand under your body and touch your pussy lightly, letting your fingers slide through your folds to gather slickness. To your absolute surprise. You're completely soaked. Usually, you need to read a bit of the story and thumb yourself over your panties before your fingers are damp enough to glide through your plump lips, but tonight, even the creases of your thighs are slick with the evidence of your arousal. 

With a shaky breath, you begin. You skip to the best bits of the story, hoping you can get yourself to come quickly. 

You finger yourself through the plot, reading aloud all the while. Describing in vivid detail, Monsieur Guillaume Berteau secretly fingers the protagonist, Vivienne, in the bathroom. At the same time, his wife entertains the rest of their party guests, then steals her sopping panties, forcing her to parade around sans culotte for the remainder of the evening. 

But you get really close when, later, the couple seduces Vivienne into the swimming pool, and she shares a kiss with both husband and wife as she relishes being the center of their attention. Then Carmen guides Vivienne to spread her legs and welcome her husband's cock with all the enthusiasm of a baker gleefully spooning a first bite of something sweet into a child’s mouth.

You spare a glance at your husband. Capitano has pushed down his pants, leaving his groin exposed as he strokes himself to your words. Something about his arousal spurs you on, making you feel even hotter, even closer to reaching your peak. The headiness of your husband stimulating himself only inches away while you did the same felt empowering. 

Your cunt aches deliciously as your stroke between your folds even faster. Your awareness of Capitano’s arousal is riling you even more than the contents of the story at this point. You turn to look at your husband, and with just a  few more tight circles on your clit, you feel your whole pussy begin to spasm. You accidentally push the novella onto the floor. It's work done as your hole clenches around nothing as you start to cum, your fingers pressing firmly against your nub, working you through what is likely your strongest orgasm in recent memory. 

Capitano catches your eyes as his hand slides fluidly over his shaft while his thumb occasionally teases the head. His cheeks are flushed with pleasure, but his eyes are so frighteningly intense that your natural instinct is to turn away from his predatory gaze. Faintly, you hear him scoff, but your mind and body are too far gone to register what that could even mean. 

You shudder as you come, hips dropping, twitching, and grinding against the quilt of your bed to elongate your pleasure. With a few heaving breaths, you struggle to collect yourself. Eventually, you turn back to face Capitano, only to find him scowling. 

And still hard. 

“Turn over.” He instructs, not quite waiting for you to move of your own accord and flipping your hips. 

You spook slightly as he positions you on your back and spreads your legs. 

Is he going to fuck you!? The thought doesn’t scare you as much as it should, but this definitely wouldn’t be an ideal scenario for you to finally make love to your husband. 

By way of protest, you offer, “Should I get the bo-”

“No.” He cuts you off immediately. 

Capitano hooks your legs over him as he kneels in front of you, his thick thighs keeping your legs parted. 

You tense as he takes his member in hand and begins to stroke himself again. His eyes first trained on your cunt. He groans at the sight, and his other hand steadies itself on your thigh. 

“May I touch you?” He asks, only slightly breathless. 

Silently, you nod, and Capitano takes the invitation to slide his hand higher. He pushes aside the curtains of your hair that have fallen over your breast and takes a soft mound in hand, grasping it with surprising tenderness and swiping his thumb firmly over your stiff nipple. You whimper at his ministrations, and his eyes snap your face. His hand quickly follows his stare as he brings his rough palm to your cheek, not waiting for permission, and presses his thumb between your plush lips. Capitano licks part his lips to offer a command, but you’re already sucking on his thick digit before he can instruct you. 

Your husband hisses and tosses his head back. You take the cue glance down to his member just in time to see the firm planes of his abdomen contract, and with a few more tugs of shaft thick white seed starts to spurt out. Then it is your turn to cry out at the contact of the hot liquid splashing onto your clit and dribbling down between your swollen folds. 

Capitano’s eyes return to your body, his steely orbs now pinned to where his spend clings to your cunt lips. Your frame is tense, but with a few strokes of his strong palm against your side, you begin to relax. 

“Good girl.” he praises as he begins to lower himself over your body. You reach a hand between the two of you and gather some of the semen coating your pussy on your fingers. 

Without thinking, you bring a hand to your mouth and tentatively suck his seed from your digits, tasting the viscous fluid like an adolescent sipping wine for the first time, which was essentially what you were. You didn't hate it as you thought you would, your eyebrows raise as if to say 'not bad.'

“Who taught you such a whorish trick?” He growls, grabbing your wrist. A slight look of awe mixed with a flare of righteous anger.

“I um, just wanted to taste you. I was curious.” You mumble shyly. Honestly. This was the most intimate contact you've had with a man and every physical sensation became new grounds for exploration.  

Capitano glares at you skeptically for a moment before pulling you up into a kiss, far deeper than any you’d shared up to that point. His tongue seeks yours eagerly, his lips surprisingly plush against yours. When you part, he gingerly lays you down and settles atop you, pressing you into the mattress. He lets out an aching sigh into the crux of your shoulder. 

“Beautiful.” He decides.

And your heart races.

[khys-treasure-box]

AN: Been having major brainrot for him since he released, so now ya'll get to hear me yap about this terminally ill goober.

CW: None other than some brief references to his illness here and there! Otherwise though, just pure fluff and silliness with Haru! No pronouns are used for reader, so this is gender neutral! <3

I will not ever apologize for speaking my truth and saying I 100% believe Harumasa is absolutely, positively clingy as a partner.

So long as you two are together, he'll whine and pout damn near like a child any time he has to be separated from you. Can you really blame him though? He can't ever really say he knows how long he has left, so every single second he could be spending with you is of practically life-and-death importance to him; it isn't his fault he has to be so clingy! Besides, any reasonable person that loves their partner should want to be around them often, right?

That in mind, he will take literally any excuse he can to have you by his side. Well, as long as he's not at work anyway, he can't exactly take you to work with him, all things considered. So long as he's off work and you aren't at work yourself though, he's practically gotta be with you all the time. You need to do a grocery run? No matter what condition he's in, he'll try to come with you. Going to get lunch with a friend? He insists that surely they'd be fine with your oh so sweet boyfriend being there too. You want to go see a movie at the cinema for once instead of watching it at home way after it releases? Well, he just has to go with you; you'll have to forgive him if he falls asleep halfway through the movie though...

What he enjoys the most though are your shared days in. He absolutely loves getting to just stay home with you all day. Even if the day is full of nothing but basic, mundane activities, he's perfectly content. Just having you there is more than enough for him. So long as you're there he can kiss, cuddle, and bug you as much as he wants! There's also the plus of having you there to play doctor for him if he gets to feeling unwell, which he certainly prefers to having to deal with real doctors. It's all a win for him! He doesn't have to go anywhere and you're right there with him!

Under circumstances where you can't be with him in person for a while for whatever reason, he may very well insist on, at the least, texting back and forth regularly if not staying on a phone call with you while you're apart. Makes him feel less lonely and a lot less worried about you, because believe me, he worries. He worries a lot. Ironic as it is, he gets concerned that something bad is going to happen to you while he's not there. Probably just as concerned as you get about him on the regular, if not somehow more actually??? Please don't let him worry too hard, it might make him feel sicker than usual. :(

No matter what, so long as you're dating Harumasa, you'd better be prepared to be spending a lot of quality time with him. <3

[tricktster]

my bestie (a man raised in an extremely wealthy connecticut suburb who is generally very capable of remarkable physical endeavors but also does have to wear watershoes in the river to protect his soft nobleman’s feet from the rocks [which I mention only to provide important context for later]) texted me last night to complain that he was in the unpleasant underground pseudo-mall that is penn station waiting for his very delayed train, had purchased a lot of depressing train station food to occupy himself during the wait, had then indulged in a particularly bleak feast for one, and now was uncomfortably full and very cranky.

Naturally I asked him what he’d eaten, then thought better of it and asked if he could describe his feast like George R. R. Martin would. He told me that describing it like GRRM it would make him feel unwell, but nonetheless shared what he’d eaten because he is a good friend.

Because I am a bad friend, I then described his food at him like GRRM.

(it was a bag of pretzels and two Reese Big Cups with potato chips inside and a brownie and a slice of chocolate cake with pink frosting)

(i know i used facsimile twice in one sentence but i was doing this entirely off the cuff so i apologize for nothing)

[earlysunshines]

secret rhymes - 39. victorian child (half-written)

a/n: fun fact i have been sick for the past WEEK. my voice has been so so so raspy and dead and i literally sound like im gonna die and or smoked thirty packs of cigs AND im also coughing like a bitch. yeah. ik a bowl of congee HATES to see me coming (I made a whole pot... i finished that pot in less than two days...)

hanni shuffles a bit and groans, stirring weakly beneath the covers. you’re worried that the rag on her forehead might slip off, so you hold it in place as she groggily blinks.

“what���” she nearly croaks. “i’m gonna be… late…”

“han, it’s okay. the rest of your group talked to the managers and called me here. i’ll take care of you for now, okay?”

“hyein?” hanni questions, pulling her blanket closer.

“…close?” you nearly chuckle.

“yunjin is that—“ hanni finally opens her eyes fully, taking in the sight of you—half amused and half worried—staring down at her. her eyes widen slightly. “y-y/n? what are you—“

“you’re burning up. you have a really high fever, one-o-one.” you sigh, looking at her with pity. “everyone was worried sick.”

“one hundred one degrees? how is that even possible—“

“—fahrenheit. you're not dead yet, don't worry.”

her face is already flushed from her fever, but when she fully registers you—the slight scrunch of worry in your brow, your hair cutely clipped behind your ears, and the loose koala graphic t-shirt you have on—her face is even more flushed under the cloth.

she can barely react, too exhausted and feverish to do anything more than stare and breath. she closes her eyes then, defeated, and sinks deeper into the bed.

meanwhile, you sit beside her, adjusting the cool compress on her forehead that slipped off while she had woken up. her skin is burning up, her breathing slow and heavy, and the way she barely stirs at your touch only makes your concern deepen.

the rest of her members had left her in your care, all of them thanking you like you had saved their lives.

("you're the best, seriously." minji says as she hugs you tight, pulling away and patting you on your shoulder. "I wasn't sure what we would've done... this album is really important and especially the song we have to record today."

"it's nothing." you say casually. "i feel bad that hanni can't go and record with you guys, but i feel even worse because she seems pretty unwell."

hyein gives you one last big hug, and then the rest of the group joins in to trap you. you giggle and hug them back, surprised and amused by the gratitude of the situation.

"i'm sorry for calling you so suddenly, you seemed really tired." hyein mumbles.

when she called you at nine in the morning (five minutes after you had to fight to wake up) you were more than just tired. an unknown caller id called you three times, the same amount of times it took you to respond with slight annoyance until you heard the familiar voice and realized it was hyein calling.

"it's fine." you respond, because after figuring out that you had to wake up for hanni, it was more than fine. "I'll take good care of her, thank you for trusting me with her and also with... uh, being in your dorm."

danielle shakes her head, then smiles. "after hearing about hanni talk about you so much and meeting you in person; you're very much welcome in our dorm anytime."

you smile even wider at that comment before ushering everyone out. "okay, go, go. i know how recording's can be, and how the schedules are, so go. i don't want you guys to get in trouble or anything." you urge. before they leave, they make sure to give you all their contact information to give and receive updates.)

you glance at your phone to see no messages from any of them, then back at hanni, watching as her lips part slightly with a soft breath. you sigh, adjusting the blanket so it sits over her shoulder before shifting to sit on the floor beside her bed, your back against the frame. it's quiet, other than the faint hum of the heater, occasional rustle of the sheets, and soft groans as she shifts slightly in her fevered sleep.

every few minutes you reach up to check the cloth, replacing it with a freshly dampened one and alternating between the two cloths four times. you don't mind waiting—watching over her like this, making sure she's okay.

and even though hanni is barely conscious, barely functional to form a thought through her exhaustion, she notices the way you linger and the feeling of the temperature on her forehead changing here and there. she notices every quiet action showing that you care.

—

a little over thirty minutes pass and you switch the rag on hanni's forehead one last time, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her damp skin before standing up. she barely moves, lost in her sleep, but you hesitate for a second before deciding to head out to the kitchen.

"i'll be back, han." you say softly, placing your hand on her shoulder.

the dorm is quiet, save for the occasional hum of the city outside. you roll up your sleeves as you get to the kitchen and unpack your tote bag, taking out each ingredient carefully. you begin chopping ginger, mushrooms, garlic, and pre-cooked chicken—staples for the congee you're making. the sound of the knife against the cutting board fills the space as you work, focused yet extremely mindful of who's resting in the other room.

fifteen more minutes pass and you've already started boiling the rice with your chopped ingredients. you're nearly done as is. suddenly, you hear soft, unsteady footsteps and turn, catching hanni in your sight as she emerges out from the hall.

she's wrapped in a crewneck and blanket draped over her shoulders, her eyes still heavy with exhaustion. she blinks at you, sluggish and dazed, before speaking tiredly,

"y/n, you… why are you... here?"

you immediately lower the heat and rush over to hanni, your hands hovering uncertainly between steadying her shoulders or guiding her back to bed.

she tilts her head slightly, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

"you didn't answer me." hanni mumbles, giving in and leaning against you to support herself. "how did you even... get here?"

"you're going to pass out, you should've stayed in your room." you sigh, guiding her toward the couch gently. "hyein called me. she said you were sick, and I was worried." you adjust the blanket around her as she settles into the cushions, still looking up at you with something unreadable in her expression. "I came as soon as she called."

"but—"

"no." you interrupt, kneeling in front of her to get her comfy. "I only have a few online things for a class, so don't worry. i basically have a free day, why not spend it on you? just focus on getting better, han."

hanni doesn't argue. she just watches as you stand and return to the kitchen, resuming your work.

the warm scent of whatever it is that you're cooking fills the air while you season further. hanni pulls the blanket tighter around herself, gaze locked onto your back as you move. the way you check on her between stirring the pot, the way your brows knit while adding a few more mushrooms—it's like you were made to do this, to care and be attentive to even the smallest things.

something tugs at hanni's heart.

once the congee is finished, you ladle some into a bowl, letting the steam rise before setting it on the counter to cool. you run to hanni's room to grab the bowl with damp rags and return to her side, setting it on the coffee table as you sit next to her. you place the rag on her head against and she lets out a small sigh at the cool relief, her eyes barely open as she looks at you.

"the food is still hot," you murmur, reaching out instinctively. your hand finds its way to her cheek, brushing against her heated skin as you check her temperature.

hanni leans into your touch. it's barely a movement—soft, fleeting, and she probably isn't aware of it either—but you feel it like a spark. the warmth of her skin lingers against your palm longer than it should and your thumb brushes against her on its own. you swallow, but she doesn't seem to notice, too tired to register the weight of the moment.

you drop your hand after a second and she turns her head slightly on the couch, still watching you through drowsy eyes.

"thank you," she mumbles. "really... you didn't.. have to.. have to do all this."

you shake your head, leaning back slightly and meeting her with the same look she has in her eyes. "it's nothing."

"no, but i mean it," she insists, her voice barely above a whisper. "you took..." she breathes in slowly, sinking deeper into her blanket before continuing, "time out of your day just to come all the way here—to take care of me."

you let out a small laugh, shrugging. "well, you're a friend I care a lot about."

hanni blinks, something unreadable flickering in her tired eyes before she lets out a quiet hum. "i— thank you. I'm glad we're... friends."

you don't know how to respond to that. the way she says it feels like there's something more beneath the surface, but she's also terribly sick so you could just be overthinking everything. before you can dwell on it further, hanni shifts, resting her head against the couch.

"lucky me." she says softly, already halfway to sleep.

you exhale, watching as her breathing starts to even and her blinking get slower. "right," you start, "you have to eat something. i think it should be cooled." you look away from her, breaking the tension filled with something uncertain but not unwelcome.

hanni watches you grab the bowl and sit up, scooping a small bite and blowing on it a few times before holding the spoon towards her. she hesitates before finally parting her lips, eating without a complaint despite being sluggish.

"good?" you ask quietly.

she nods, chewing slowly. "mhm. you're a good cook."

"i know," you tease, earning a weak chuckle from her.

you bring up another spoonful, but before she takes it, you notice a bit of rice stuck at the corner of her lips. without thinking, you reach forward, brushing it away with your thumb.

hanni stills. her eyes flick up to yours, surprised, but she doesn't pull back. neither do you.

"you're being extra nice today," hanni mutters, voice tinged with something unreadable.

you huff a small laugh, reaching for a cup of warm water. "you're sick, hanni. what kind of person would I be if I wasn't?"

she lets you tilt her chin up slightly even when it earns a weird turn in her stomach. she also lets you assist her in sipping the water, wiping away at the drop that rolls down to her chin.

"i, uh, um. there was this, um, time." you start nervously, trying to break the dreadful tension in the air. "my friend back in new york, he... he got sick and his parents were away. i had to take care of him like this. so don't worry about... me taking care of you. it's nothing. i just want you to be okay hanni."

"you're lovely, y/n." hanni sounds and looks drunk with a mix of just completely tired. it's almost amusing how cute she looks.

for the next hour you sit beside her and finish some assignments on your laptop. every so often you glance her way, checking her temperature and switching out the rags. hanni doesn't say much, just watches you everytime she wakes up, eyes flickering between your hands on the keyboard and the quiet concentration on your face.

"i feel a lot better now," she finally says, breaking the silence and halting your typing.

you glance at her and smile. "yeah?"

she hums in confirmation, her eyes fluttering closed as sleep starts to take over.

hanni motions for you to scoot over, and if this were any of your other friends you'd tell them to back off because of their sickness—with hanni, you shift closer. and then she leans on you a bit, the weight of her head pushing against your arm. you don't say anything else, just watch as she drifts off, her features relaxed, her breathing soft and even.

she looks peaceful—so pretty even while she's overheating and feverish.

carefully—without moving your arm—you reach for the rag again, switching it out for a colder one. you do it over and over, making sure she's comfortable. even though the room is quiet, and even though she's asleep; you don't feel alone.

if anything, you feel closer than before. your heart can't decide if it likes the feeling or not.

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