#you know. casual topics of course.

[isaut]

there are themes i wish to explore in divorcee au

[spacebubblehomebase]

RADIOAPPLE COTL AU!

"What do you do when a mere scapegoat becomes so enamored with the God Of Death that they actually look forward to dying again and again just to see Him?"

"What do you do when said God Of Death yearns for the sacrificial lamb's PERMANENT DEATH and this very thought is actually the reason He smiles at them?"

"But it's only because He wants to own them FOREVER the only way He knows how??? ...For His Vessel's soul to be HIS to keep."

Basically, this is my COTL Radioapple AU idea! (NOTE: Read it all over again! This time, just the yellow highlighted words for a different experience and perspective on things! 😉 Trust me on this.) -Bubbly💙

[tea-and-secrets]

hey man if you’re just gonna reject every fucking submission you don’t like as bait maybe ahhhh what’s the point of running a fucking secrets blog yeah?

I delete maybe a maximum of 10 bait asks for every 500. we're doing just fine, thank you

[jackett-slut]

ok sorry if this sounds fucking insane. i need to write something out.

[mortalityplays]

"how do you just know this" is a question I get asked a lot, because I tend to be someone who can contribute unusual facts or insight on whatever topic a casual conversation turns to, and I never know how to answer because "I pay attention" sounds rude and isn't super actionable. but that is really it, I just take an active interest when I encounter something curious or unusual.

like recently one of my friends linked me a funny paragraph from a very badly written erotic novel. it was so bad that I thought "I wonder if this is real", so we looked up the book it was from and learned it was a vintage horny housewife type story by someone who wrote a lot of shitty cheap porn back in the 80s, all of which now seems to be completely out of print.

in the course of googling the author, I discovered that one of their works had been cited in a 2004 court case over a prisoner's right to keep erotic novels in his personal library after the prison confiscated them. a bit more googling turned up the case details in a legal database. the guy had received the books by mail and kept them, among others, in his cell. the prison seized them, citing a policy against prisoners having pornography. his lawyers argued that 1. erotic novels are distinct from pornography because they have artistic and expressive content beyond the depiction of sex acts, and 2. since he received them by mail they are therefore protected under his constitutional right to freely access non-disruptive information from outside the prison. I don't know if he got his books back, but he won his case.

then we googled the defendant and found out he was in prison for helping a woman to drug and murder his boss (who she lived with), mutilate the body with acid and dump him in a ravine.

anyway my point is, take an interest. that's how you learn weird stuff.

[master-gatherer]

A small thing about that Todd in the shadows vid:

When he covered the dubious vampire claim (that peasants would accuse their neighbors of being vampires- that is incorrect he had them confused with witches) it was another "pause and scream at the TV for a few minutes" moment. And can I say I relate so much to Elissa (vampire YouTuber and Todd's vampire expert) feeling compelled to absolutely drag Somerton's mistakes about vampire media.

This is why I only watch YouTubers that have been recommended by people I trust, I've seen way too many crappy video essays that don't know what they're talking about and it's not good for my blood pressure.

[crookedteethed]

ᡣ𐭩 Positive • ° 　 .　 *　: r. cameron

synopsis -- There are three things you know for certain right now:

You're pregnant.

The father currently has his hands all over some blonde at The Wreck.

According to Topper, you're Rafe Cameron's favorite topic during locker room talk.

warnings -- 18+-mdni, unplanned pregnancy, cursing, angst no happy ending, readers a pouge, fuckboy!rafe (?) toppers a dickhead frl, mention of abortions (once)

main masterlist(s) | taglist | wc: 2.2k

"Fuck." You stare at the positive pregnancy test between your trembling fingers.

"Fuck," you curse again, realizing you're alone in your apartment with this life-changing news.

Of course this would happen.

After months of sneaking around, of heated encounters and promises to keep things casual, one reckless night was all it took. One moment where passion overrode common sense, where neither of you cared about consequences.

A hushed "I want to feel you, all of you," slipped from Rafe's lips as he paused, the condom still on, but his desire for you raw, uninhibited, consuming him. His eyes, dark and intense, bore into yours, silently asking if you trusted him enough to let go..

How naive you'd been, thinking you could trust Rafe Cameron with something so intimate. The golden boy of the OBX, known for his volatile temper and reckless abandon. The type of man who treats both relationships and speed limits as mere suggestions.

And you'd fallen for those dark cerulean eyes and heated whispers like every other girl before you. Only difference was, you were now staring at the consequences of that trust, watching it turn into two pink lines that would complicate everything.

Your secret hookup.

The trust fund bad boy of the OBX. The same Rafe Cameron who's probably at some country club event right now, charming his way through a crowd of socialites, completely unaware that he's about to become a father.

You can already hear the whispers at the yacht club – the Camerons' golden boy and his latest pouge conquest.

As if sleeping with Rafe Cameron wasn't scandalous enough, now you're carrying the next heir to his family's empire.

"Have you seen Rafe?" you shout at Topper over the pulsing bass of The Wreck's speakers. Your hand instinctively rests on your still-flat stomach – a new nervous habit you've developed since seeing those two pink lines.

Topper takes a swig of his whiskey, looking entirely too amused--and drunk, "Lost track of your boyfriend already?"

"He's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah." He smirked, clearly enjoying your discomfort. "Just his favorite little Pogue to fuck behind closed doors, right? You know, he tells us everything in the locker room." He leaned closer, whiskey breath hot against your ear. "About how eager you are, how you beg for it. Though I gotta say, for someone from the cut, you've got quite the reputation among the trust fund crowd now."

Your cheeks burned with humiliation and anger. Of course Rafe would brag about all the girls he's had to his Kook friends. Of course you were just another story for their country club gossip.

"Go fuck yourself, Topper. Where's Rafe?"

"Aw, don't be like that, sweetheart. We all know you've got a thing for rich boys. Though usually we don't keep Pogues around this long – Rafe must really like something about you." His eyes raked over you suggestively. "Or some things."

The way he says it makes your skin crawl – it's pure Rafe Cameron coming out of Topper's mouth. That same calculated charm, that practiced way of making someone feel simultaneously special and worthless.

You wonder how many hours he spent watching Rafe work his magic at bars, memorizing the exact tone needed to make "sweetheart" sound like an insult. Rich boys and their fucked-up everything.

He holds up his hands in mock surrender, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips. "Hey, I'm just messing with you. No need to get your discount panties in a twist." He gestures toward the bar with his glass.

"Last I saw him, he was chatting up some blonde by the bar." Topper continued, "Though, something tells me you've got more on your mind than just another quick fuck in the coat closet."

"You're a real piece of shit, you know that?" you snap at him, hands clenching into fists.

Your head whips around, scanning the crowded bar area, but there's no sign of Rafe's familiar frame among the sea of drunk socialites.

"He's not there," you mutter, frustration building in your chest.

"What's wrong? Don't have your Kook King on a leash?" Topper calls after you as you push past him toward the exit. "Better hurry – you know how fast Rafe moves on to the next thing!"

You storm out of The Wreck, the humid night air doing nothing to cool your rising anger.

Perfect. Just fucking perfect.

Here you are, pregnant with his kid, and Rafe Cameron can't even stay in one place long enough to hear the news.

Slumping into your car, you grab your phone, fingers trembling as you pull up his contact. Three rings, voicemail. Again. Four rings, voicemail. Your frustration builds with each failed attempt.

hey, we need to talk

rafe, answer your fucking phone

where are you?

this is important

You watch the messages turn from "delivered" to "read" with no response. Of course he's seeing them. He's probably looking at his phone right now, some blonde draped over his shoulder, both of them laughing at your desperate attempts to reach him.

seriously rafe, this isn't about us. something happened

Your thumb hovers over the keyboard. You could just text it. Three simple words: I'm pregnant, asshole. But somehow, dropping that bomb over text feels wrong, even for whatever this is between you.

After the tenth unanswered call, you throw your phone onto the passenger seat, fighting back angry tears.

You should have known better than to expect anything different from Rafe Cameron, who treats Pogues like they're as disposable as his designer clothes.

To him, girls from the Cut are just temporary entertainment – something to play with until a more suitable option from his tax bracket comes along.

Your phone buzzes. For a moment, your heart leaps – but it's just another notification that he's read your messages.

"Fuck you, Rafe," you mutter, starting your car with more force than necessary. The engine roars to life, matching your mood.

You consider driving to his place – you know he'll end up there eventually, probably with tonight's blonde in tow. But the thought of waiting outside his house like some desperate ex makes bile rise in your throat.

Your phone buzzes again. This time it's a text:

busy rn. talk tomorrow?

A laugh escapes you, bitter and hollow. Busy. Of course he's busy. He's always busy when it doesn't involve getting into your pants. Your fingers fly across the keyboard before you can stop yourself:

hope she's worth it. btw, might want to start setting aside some trust fund money for child support

You hit send before you can think better of it, immediately regretting it. Your phone explodes with incoming calls – now he wants to talk. But you're already pulling out of the parking lot, vision blurry with unshed tears.

Let him panic for a while. Let him feel a fraction of the anxiety that's been eating at you since you saw those two pink lines.

Besides, if he can't be bothered to give you five minutes when you need him, he can wait until tomorrow to hear how he managed to knock up his favorite Pogue.

You wake up to the sound of coffee brewing – which is impossible because you live alone and definitely didn't set the timer last night. Stumbling out of your bedroom, you freeze in the doorway.

There's Rafe Cameron, looking unfairly good for someone who should be hungover, sitting on your beaten-up futon. His expensive clothes are a stark contrast to your shabby apartment furniture, but somehow he looks like he belongs there.

Between his fingers, he's holding the pregnancy test you'd forgotten to hide in your emotional spiral last night.

"Breaking and entering now?" Your voice comes out shakier than you'd like. "That's low, even for you."

He doesn't look up from the test, but you catch the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "It's not breaking in when I have a key." He finally meets your eyes, holding up the small silver key you'd given him three months ago after that night he'd brought you soup when you were sick. "You know, the one you said was 'just for emergencies'?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. This thing between you had stopped being just hookups somewhere between the late-night conversations and the drawer of his clothes in your dresser. Between him knowing how you take your coffee and you knowing which side of the bed he prefers.

"That's not—" you start, but he cuts you off.

"Were you ever going to tell me? Or were you just going to text it and disappear like you did last night?"

"Oh, like how you disappeared with that blonde? Or should we talk about how you disappear every time after you're done with me, just to go brag to Topper about your latest fuck?"

His face darkens. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't play dumb, Rafe. Your locker room talk is apparently quite entertaining. 'Eager.' 'Begging for it.' Ring any bells?" You wrap your arms around yourself, hating how your voice shakes. "Tell me, do all your Kook friends know how I sound in bed, or is that a special story just for Topper?"

"That's not—"

"Not what? Not what you meant? Not what happened? Because Topper seemed pretty clear about exactly what kind of reputation I have among your trust fund crowd now."

"You really think that's what this is?" He gestures between you. "That I could think of you as just another hookup?"

"Isn't it? I mean, god forbid the Kook King actually care about the Pogue he's fucking—"

"Jesus Christ," he runs his hands through his buzzed hair in frustration. "If this was just about sex, would I have a key? Would I know your coffee order or—"

"You can't use that as some kind of proof you care! Having a key doesn't mean shit when you're out there treating me like your dirty little secret!"

The silence that follows is heavy, charged with months of unspoken hurt. When Rafe finally speaks, his voice is low, controlled: "Is it mine?"

The question hits you like a slap. "Are you seriously—"

"Just answer the question." His eyes are intense, searching yours. "Is it mine?"

The unspoken truth hangs heavy between you. He already knows the answer – can read it in the way you can't quite meet his eyes, in how your hand unconsciously drifts to your stomach.

That night without protection wasn't your first together, but it was the first time he'd looked at you like you were something more than just a good time.

Like maybe you could be everything. Now that look is back, mixed with something like fear as the reality of what you're not saying sinks in.

"Those tests—" he starts pacing, running his hands through his hair. "They're not always accurate, you know? Maybe you should take another one. Or three. Fuck, how do you even know for sure?" His voice takes on a desperate edge. "There are… options. I know a clinic in Chapel Hill. Discrete. I could make some calls—"

"You know what?" Your voice comes out quiet, defeated. "Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe this is exactly what I need to finally stop pretending this—" you gesture between you, "—could ever be anything real."

"I'm just saying we need to think about this logically—"

"No," you snap, your voice rising until it bounces off the walls of your tiny apartment. "You're trying to make this disappear, just like everything else that threatens your perfect Figure Eight lifestyle!"

You watch something crack in his expression, that carefully maintained Kook King facade finally showing a glimpse of real emotion. His hand reaches for you, then drops. "Don't—"

"I think you should go." You turn away, unable to look at him anymore. "Use that key one last time to lock up behind you."

You don't need to see his face to know he's struggling with what to say. The perfect Rafe Cameron, for once at a loss for words. It would be funny if it wasn't breaking your heart.

You don't turn around to watch him leave, but you hear the way he hesitates at the door. The silence stretches, filled with all the words neither of you are brave enough to say. Finally, the door clicks shut, and you're alone again.

Your hand drifts to your stomach, and you let out a bitter laugh. You can do this alone.

You'll move out of the OBX, maybe up to Wilmington where no one knows your name or that you're carrying a Cameron heir. You'll work extra shifts at the restaurant, save every penny.

Your kid won't need trust fund money or a father who treats relationships like they're disposable. Your child won't grow up feeling like some dirty secret.

Somewhere across town, Topper's probably already hearing about how the Pogue girl tried to trap Rafe Cameron with a baby. You can almost hear the yacht club whispers starting. But let them talk – you've survived worse than country club gossip.

(What no one would ever know: how your hands shook as you slid his key under his door later that night, or how he sat in his car outside your apartment for hours, staring at a small velvet box he'd been carrying in his pocket since before you ever said the word "pregnant."

Some love stories aren't meant to have happy endings, and some babies are meant to have just one parent who actually wants them.)

a/n -- thanks for reading, as always all likes comments, and reblogs keeps me motivated! 💕🫶🏾

taglist --

@rafestoothbrush @alexxavicry @trapistani @Hejsj @neslayuh @hotvampdragon @alyisdead @jelybely @elmolovesw33d @littlelamy @futuremrscameron @percysley @rrafeswhore @madzig @thatdesigirl17 @drewstarkeysrightarm @seqhyvnz @romantasyreader2024 @luizaelias @rafe-cameronswife @emmavzlsblog @aileenunfiltered @swe3theart-succubus @511rkive @morrrrphin @xcinnamonmalfoyx @obxrafeandjj @rafegf-real @theeternaloptimistt

[girlsoutlate]

the lead up to price sharing his birdie with his men, and badly hidden curiousity on their behalf

i tried just writing the meeting but i found it difficult so i wrote this as a little inbetween piece, enjoy

fem reader described as having hair that can be tied up, slight age gap (older price) THE BOYS ARE NOSYYY

the 141 can be considered nosy by nature, but have the excuse of it being their job. some are more open than others about their home life. ghost seemed to live quite a solitary life whereas gaz and soap had shared family pictures. nevertheless, there was some idea of each others lives outside of the military. but one person stayed an enigma: captain john price. maybe because it felt strange to know so much about their superior as well as role model. price had never shown an aversion to talking about his life, but the 141 had never asked- shocking to say the least. they all had their own theories. gaz thought he used to be married but it ended in a disastrous divorce- yet there was no trace of any mrs price. soap guessed he liked the company of pretty women, if you catch his drift. but never heard any boasting from his captain. ghost concluded he was similar to him, perhaps with a few more friends and a family, there was no reason to think otherwise. yet none of them guessed there was gorgeous thing like you john was all to eager to return home to each night, until now.

the 141 had been seeing signs of a woman close to their captain for about a month now. it started with a faint hint of fruity perfume under his cigar musk and aftershave, that was out of place on such a man. gaz pointed it out, making the rest of the 141 laugh. however it was forgotten about by the next hour, no one thought anymore of it. then the next day a hairband around prices wrist. he must have forgotten to take it off after you taught him how to plait your hair the night before. it was a work in progress. the simple black band was noticed by ghost while exchanging paperwork. he brushed it off despite finding it a little odd. the first piece of solid evidence they find of the captains mystery woman was his lockscreen.

they were in their common room, taking a break from the never ending pile of paperwork. squashed on the small couches they were joking about the new recruits, which was one of their many favourite topics to complain about. the hum of fluorescent lights was drowned out by their banter. mugs with dregs of coffee in them and a half empty pack of fags sat on the table. while talking, prices phone lit up with a notification. soap, the nosy shite, immediately noticed his lockscreen. a picture of a woman with her back to the camera: gossamer hair and skin that glowed in the sunny view she was admiring. with an eyebrow quirked, soap turned to his captain and asked too casually "whose tha'?". without missing a beat price replied smugly "the missus". for once soap shut up, and looked at the others with his mouth slightly agape, checking if they heard the same thing. ghost let out a grunt which they now knew to be a laugh. gaz's eyes were growing wider by the second. price seemed done and returned to whatever the previous subject was, which had quickly become forgotten. at that point gaz, soap and ghost were a pack of dogs with a bone. who was prices pretty birdie?

over the next month or so the boys had heightened interest on their captains home life. of course they cared about the details of the captains weekend plans, did he fancy going to that quite pricey restaurant that had opened up? it was necessary for them to ask the source of his dinner that evening, did he know the recipe? the competitive streak in them was made apparent sooner rather than later, all fighting to get more important information than the others. even though, if anything was discovered it was immediately shared. one day gaz stumbled upon gold.

he was in prices office, relatively spacious with a small couch in the corner and a bookcase in another. whilst chatting about an upcoming meeting, a buzz emanated from prices phone. before gaz could read the caller id price snatched it up and grumbled "won't be a minute". thinking it was a work call, gaz was surprised to hear his captains voice suddenly becoming as soft as it could. turning to face the window johns small smile wasn't missed as he murmured "hi love, how are ya?". staying still and quiet as to not get kicked out, gaz listened to the chirpy voice that could be faintly heard through the tinny phone. with a content sigh john replied "steak for dinner? tha's perfect". a wide grin crept on to gaz's face. a giggle and another sentence could be heard before price replied "of course i'll pick tha' up for dessert" both of you let out a small laugh when john continued "are ya tryna kill me?". just when gaz thought this couldn't get any better, price fondly said to you "i'll see ya at home sweet'eart". as he hung up and turned back around the sergeant found it near impossible to dampen his grin.

john had told you of his boys' detective work, which he considered shoddy at best. as you were flitting around the kitchen that evening, you were bemused at your boyfriends recount of the day. when he described his sergeants face after the phonecall you let out a loud laugh, bouncing off the tiles of your cosy kitchen. john sat by the table watching you busy yourself by the counter, as he nursed his beer he couldn't help but take in your appearance. tendrils of loose hair curled around your ears, escaping from your loose ponytail. although hidden by one of his tops and comfy jogging bottoms, he could make out the slopes and peaks of your body that he was all too familiar with. as you turned to face him, he was drawn closer to the twinkling reflection of light in your eyes. before he realised it he was towering over you, eyes raking over your form with the beer abandoned on the table. you looked up at him, hand on your hip. "john are you even listening to me?" you asked, face comically blank. "sorry doll, what was that?" he huskily replied, slightly dazed. "pass me a can. please?" you asked, adding a awfully fake cheesy smile at the end.

pressing a kiss to your lips as an apology, he was about to pull away before you deepened it. pulling his barrel of a body against yours, his mouth slightly opened. the bitter taste of beer and cigars mingled with sweet cider from yours. pulling back, slightly breathless, johns blown pupils met yours. "yer so gorgeous, don't know wha' i did to deserve ya" he muttered, the closeness of his voice making you slightly weak. as his calloused thumb brushed over your warm cheek you coyly commented "what would your men think if they saw you like this?". for a moment john faltered, thinking about how they would feel if they saw him being intimate with someone like you- let alone how he would feel. his flushed cheeks were the subject of your teasing for the rest of that night.

while eating your dinner you brought up the 141 since you were already talking about them. you knew your boyfriend felt a responsibility to look after his girl, despite you being more than capable. whenever his deployment was brought up it was usually by him. telling you where he went and anything that he thought might interest you, from an aspect of their culture to a cute cat he saw. sometimes he brought trinkets back. but never about what he had done, or what he had ordered to be done. so the members of the 141 were more characters in your head than real people. you knew their names and basic personality but that was all. so when you asked "how much do they know about me?" it was rather tentative. john paused, his fork halfway to his mouth, thinking. shaking his head he replied decidedly "not much, besides y' mine. they're nosy fuckers, practically begged me to show them a proper picture of you". you hummed in response, finishing your mouthful of food. quietly you muttered "maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they knew more". letting the question hang in the air, you picked up the last forkful of food which went down your throat in a lump. john was silent, eyebrows slightly furrowed.

he considered your proposal, if his girl was concerned then it was worth thinking about. plainly he asked "why?", trusting you to be open. "well, you spend a lot of time with them- i'm not jealous. its just that.. you trust these men with your life, i don't even know what they look like." pausing for a second you continued "its more for my sake than theirs. if i knew them past their names it would make it, well, easier to be apart from you for so long. i know you can look after yourself, but i- i'm always gonna worry about you." with that said, the air in the kitchen grew heavier. you kept your eyes glued on to your plate as johns gaze from across the table burned in to you.

the captain realised that you wanted to know more, for your wellbeing rather than the 141's. now, he realised it was quite a simple conclusion. he imagined his girl cold and alone in an empty house, no idea where he was or who he was with, for weeks at a time. five minute phone calls spent trying to find better service than speaking to each other. no idea who john was fighting or how difficult it was. no clue about who he was trusting his life with in your absence. how on earth could he not expect you to have an issue with it? he kicked himself, he made his sweetheart worry. he could have prevented it and he didn't, too focused on a successful mission than the only thing he wanted to return home for. price knew this had to change, or risk isolating you even more than he does because of his job.

john stood up, chair screeching on the kitchen tiles while he sighed "fuckin 'ell i'm an idiot". gathering both plates and putting them on the counter, he ran a hand across his face and turned to you. just as you took a breath to take it all back, john interrupted you: "you should meet 'em". you cocked your head to the side, looking at him with slightly narrowed eyes. "whats changed your mind?" you enquired, curious about the sudden change. replying half-heartedly, still deep in thought "just thinkin' about you here on your own, worryin'". taking a deep breath he stated "i'll talk to them about it. you". walking up to him with a small smile on your face you leant up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, beard tickling your chin. "thankyou john" you whispered. reaching up to get the plates the rumble of his voice deep in his chest saying "anythin' for you doll" reverberated against your back.

as he turned to get the dessert out of the fridge the most pressing question yet entered his mind: how would he ask the 141 to meet his birdie- without them going mad?

thankyou for reading :))) each like, comment and reblog is greatly appreciated. this is more for context to the main meeting that has been stuck in my head for ages. if you liked this keep an eyes out!!!

heyyy guys long time no see. had a crazy two weeks, found out my boyfriend was practically cheating on me for the last month of our relationship and he already has a new girlfriend after two weeks. apart from that im grand. sorry it took so long for me to post properly again, thankyou for being patient

[caramelcoloredkiss]

hello! i saw ur post and im excited to read ur works so i decided to give u a request! hope u dont mind :3

m!reader who is really slim, not to the point he's unhealthy but just think of him having every girl's dream body, and then there's m!reader's bf who wants to see m!reader under all that baggy clothing but doesn't want to be too pushy so he waits until they finally decide to make love and the moment m!reader's bf sees such a heavenly sight, all he wants to mark him inside out!! kinks r up to u but i do would request creampie :3

First request from our lovely anon! Your wish is my command <3

"𝐻𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝓂𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓉 ٭"

[OC!Malcom x Sub!Male reader]

"You were always avoiding the topic of sex when it came to your boyfriend, but being so stressed over the course of your semester. You just needed something to relieve stress. Luckily your boyfriend is just so happy to give it to you.

Contains: 18+ , sweet -> smutty, body worship, size difference, creampie, praise, insecure+anxiety filled!reader

Let me know if you have any feed back or criticism! Or just how you feel about this~

───────────────────────────

If there were a man that knew how to make you feel loved, it was your boyfriend.

Malcom was infatuated by your very existance. The way you laughed, spoke, and moved— by God it was like you put a curse on him. The smell of your cologne and shampoo had filled his senses; he had always held you close like it was his last.

You knew his love was bigger than anything else, but it always caught you off guard whenever he said it so casually. How were you able to get your hands in a man that had the biggest heart in the world? You weren't so sure.

"It's so unfair!"

You had felt yourself flinch from the sudden declaration; it was your friend, who had been laying on the carpeted ground of the living room in your apartment. She had began to talk about her exe's while you both worked on a document for your college assignment, honestly if you didn't know any better— she probably only came here to vent about more of her failed relationships.

"You seriously wouldn't believe it! The fucking asshole had the audacity to comment about my sex life! Like— if you want pussy that badly go to a prostitute! Or all the other fucking girls who you keep switching between every week!"

She huffed, pressing her face on the pillow she had taken from the sofa to muffle her uncontrollable yelling. Sofie had always been a bit easily agitated, but today was her last straw apparently.

"Why'd you even date him?"

You asked, pausing your typing on your laptop to lean back on the sofa while she rolled around on the floor, kicking her legs in the air. Your friend let out a sigh and took the pillow off her face, she looked extremely tired, did the situation really bother her that much?

"Look man.. He had good dick! But the asshole had something worth bragging and decided it was his whole personality! He was pretty big too so—"

Too much details!

"Okay stop! I don't wanna hear the details of you sex with him."

You shudder at the very thought of it, this girl was shameless, but she was your bestfriend so you couldn't complain about your choices.

"Whateverrr—"

Sofie sat up from the floor and stood up, heading towards your kitchen— your semi-kitchen anyways. She grabbed the caramel pudding that was stashed underneath, it was still so weird how she could just find the snacks Malcom buys you.

" anyways I probably shouldn't complain to you, not when your boyfriend was sent by God apparently. Seriously! He keeps buying you shit, my boyfriends couldn't even buy me flowers!"

"It's because he's nice to me, besides I buy him just as much the amount as he does for me."

Sofie teasingly rolled her eyes and peeled the packaging seal of the pudding, grabbing a spoon to eat.

"Mhm sure. Oh yeah— he dicked you down yet?"

You coughed out loud, choking in your own saliva; caught off guard by her words. Did this girl just wear no filter whenever you were around? Usually she was more shy with people.

"𝘚𝘰𝘧𝘪𝘦! Why are you so sex craved!?—"

"I am not! I just haven't heard much from you about yours, is he that bad?—"

"—well I wouldn't know! "

You both paused, sitting in silence. You didn't mean to say that—it was true but it didn't have to be said!

Closing your laptop, you put it besides you, theirs no way you could work under these way too personal questions.

"Oh, really? I heard Malcolm was pretty good. Did he not want to? Kinda fucked up if so." Sofie said, scooping a spoonful of pudding in the cup to shove in her mouth. Walking back to you to sit on the couch.

You shook your head, it wasn't like he didn't want to have sex with you. It was the fact that you were too scared to even show your body to him, you were slim, yeah it was almost every girls ideal body type— but you didn't even know if it was 𝘩𝘪𝘴. You were already in disbelief by the fact that he even reciprocated feelings for you, sex was the last thing that came into your mind.

But it didn't mean you could avoid the image of his muscular arms caging you while you layed helpless at his mercy, not mentioning the fact that he constantly walked around shirtless in your apartment— You fought your urges every day at that point.

"Well if not, I say you should, we already finished our exams you might as well get some relaxation in your life before our semester is over— we only have to submit a few of our projects left anyways."

You felt your cheeks burn, it was ridiculous. The thought of finally making love to him made you feel completely weak, you weren't even sure if he wanted to have sex with you.

"—He's probably been waiting for you to give permission or something."

You could only hope she was right.

This is embarrassing.

You layed on your bed for what felt like hours, waiting for him.

"Why is he taking so long? Ugh, I might throw up."

Sitting up, you moved from your bed to open your bed side cabinet— you had bought some lube and condoms from the store just a bit earlier, having to go to the counter to purchase the said items made you want to curl up into a ball, for fucks sakes—

Of course the cashier wasn't the only one to witness you buy them!

You were an adult.

You weren't supposed to be ashamed for buying them, or even about sex in general! But you were a virgin, someone who had stayed far away from any form of sexual intimacy for the sake of your own dignity— and now you were offering it to 𝘩𝘪𝘮.

"Calm down, [Name]. If he doesn't want to that's fine, you can just cope with it and move on!"

You felt yourself shaking, dammit you felt pathetic. It wasn't your fault your mom wanted to keep you safe! Maybe this was a bad idea, if he didn't say anything then that probably meant he—

You felt a sudden pressure wrap around your waist, the figure burying it's nose at the crook of you neck.

"Hi baby.. I missed you.."

You made a quick reaction and closed your cabinet, praying he hadn't just seen what you prepared.

"M-Malcom! Hi— did your practice go well?"

Turning your body around to look at him, lifting his face off your neck—you gently caressed his face with incredible amounts of affection. While he had determinely locked his arms around your waist, seemingly needy for your touch.

"It was fine.. Took too long, it was a pain in the ass.. "

You nodded, as he leaned his face against your hand. Malcom had always been a bit clingy when he was exhausted— desperate to touch you and to feel his cold hands on your warm skin.

Malcom was beautiful, he had bronze skin that developed from all the times he bathed underneath the sun, and green eyes that just lit up every time he had something say. His hair was flawless, his sister had always taken care of it; dark brown and with a few strands of his hair framing his face— not to mention the mole underneath his lips. [Name] was desperate to see what else is underneath just his beauty, what would he look like when they were indulging in sinful acts, what would he whisper, what would he do.

—You wanted to know...

But, he looked so tired. Probably desperate to just lay in bed and cuddle, we're you really gonna be selfish enough to take that away from him? You didn't want that, so maybe it was alright to wait a bit longer.

"[Name], I heard from Sofie you wanted to talk to me about something.. "

Malcom whispered, pressing his lips against the palm of your hand while he looked down at you with half lidded eyes, not bothering to break eye contact.

Ah, so Sofie had been out to get you.

"Its— not important, you're probably exhausted right? Let's just go to bed—"

As you were about to pull away from his hold, he tightens his arms. Damn his muscular body!

Malcom was determined to get your words out of you, a tired Malcom wasn't easy to deal with.

"You know I don't like you lying to me, spit it out, hm?"

He kept his body firm and pressed you against his chest, he smelt good, he probably showered before coming here.

"I just— it's nothing."

Malcom sighed, giving you one last look of dissatisfaction. He let's go of your hug, which made you whine a bit, his body was warm! Before sitting down at the edge of your bed, pulling you by your arm to fall on his lap. Fuck, this wasn't the best position for someone who had just been craving to get fucked by the man in front of him. Your face was getting warmer and warmer each time he looked at you, this was gonna be hard.

"Please baby? I just wanna know what's botherin' you.. That's all."

He looked a bit sad, wrapping his arms around you waist once more to pull you closer to him, with your legs in between his hips. This man was seriously not helping you.

You let out a sigh, finally giving up on holding your ground. It wasn't like it was that strong anyways.

"I-Its just that, I noticed how we were both a bit stressed out during the semester.. And it made me think, we hadn't really done much to relieve ourselves... So I thought.. Maybe you wanted to.. "

"Make love?"

You blinked, his eyes were soft, but they looked crazed— like he had been waiting so long for this very moment. It honestly made you feel a bit nervous, you weren't prepared for the reaction he would give.

"Ah— yeah, I wanna make love to you, please.. I wanna feel you." You could die from over heating.

But that seemed to be the words he needed to hear, his lips pulling up to a soft smile.

"You could've just said so, I've been wanting for you.."

Before you could respond, he took your lips.

You held onto his bicep to avoid collapsing into his arms, reciprocating the heated kiss. Your abdomen felt like it was burning, just as you were desperately trying to taste every inch of his mouth. His tongue was dominating, sucking onto yours as your salivas was mixed with the messy kiss, occasional gasps and moans leaving your lips.

"Been waiting..so long— fuck."

"ah.. haa..Malcom—"

He pulled away, before returning for another serving, you could feel your head spin a bit. This much more intense your previous make out sessions.

You pull away this time, the string of saliva showing the previous connection of your lips. The illuminating lamp at the top of your cabinet was the only thing that lit up your otherwise pitch dark room. It has how you could see the look of hunger Malcom gave you, he didn't move his face any farther from just an inch, you could feel his hot breath hit your face. He pressed his lips on your right cheek, giving it a wet kiss before lowering his attention to you other half.

"You're so responsive.. [Name], strip for me, yeah? ."

"I-"

You couldn't believe this, when did Malcom become so blunt.

Despite your thoughts, you grabbed the hem of your sweatshirt, it was pretty big compared to you. If anything all of your clothes were to big for you, hiding your body unintentionally. So when you had pulled it off, Malcom stared. He looked so deeply enamored by how your body was made— how well it was made for him.

"You look so beautiful.. Such a pretty body, been hiding their away from for too long haven't you? [Name]."

He connected his lips to your neck, suckling at your skin as he licked and nipped the same spot, stopping and moving to the next. You let out small moans, which made you bite your lip to silence it, but Malcom didn't seem to appreciate it— pulling his lips away from your awfully sensitive skin.

"Don't do that, I wanna hear all you pretty sounds, I want everyone to know how good you feel.. "

You could only reluctantly nod, and let your whined moans strain— your throat from how intensely Malcom was sucking at your skin.

He lowered his attention each time he successful left a mark, using his calloused hands to rub the side of you waist, lowering his hand to squeeze your ass, which made you bite back a squeal.

"You're so cute [Name], wanna see all of you okay?"

You could only nod again, as he gently pulled you shorts down along with you briefs. Showing the obvious erection that had built up throughout the whole thing.

"Such a cute cock.. "

"H-Hey, stop saying embarrassing things.. "

Malcom let out a chuckle, as he kissed your jaw, letting your clothes fall on the floor. He lifts you up and lays your back on the bed as gently as he could, he supports himself on his knees while pulling his shirt off, throwing it carelessly on the floor along with the others.

"You are so fucking beautiful— [Name]"

He leans down to kiss your stomach, going back up to kiss you cheek. Why was he just so loving?

𝘖𝘩 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵.

"I-I bought lube, it's in the cabinet, s-so it'll be easier to..you know."

Malcom sat back up and reached his hand to slide open the cabinet.

"Came prepared huh, baby. Want we to stretch you out?"

"Y-Yeah.."

Malcom smiles, grabbing the tube of lube and squeezing a generous amount on his hand, spreading it throughout his fingers.

"Gonna slide it in okay?"

"O-okay"

He leans back down to hold you and just as he promised, he slid one of his finger in—fuck his finger was bigger than you thought.

"Hm.. You tried stretch yourself out.."

You nodded, burrying your face in his shoulder while he pumped his finger in and out of your hole.

"M' fingers weren't—ah!— e-enough.."

"You did good, I'll do the rest.."

You gasped and wrapped you hands around his torso, your nails piercing at his back, but he didn't seem to mind, only inserting a second finger in to thrust in your hole. The cold lube and his thick fingers were going to kill you, this was too much of a combination.

Malcom was a lot bigger than you thought, he was practically hiding your body from just how broad his shoulders were, not to mention the tent in his sweatpants weren't going unnoticed by just how— big it was..

"Aah—! f-fuck Mal— why are your fingers so big!?"

You screamed, feeling practically all three of his finger simultaneously out thrusting in and out of your hole. This was unfair, you were going to cum untouched at this point!

"You're just small, baby. S'not my fault you're so reactive.." He grinned, his canines displaying. This bastard!

"You—ahh!— wha—"

He hit your spot, and he didn't stop—curling his fingers to press your prostate, which just made you cry out a moan, your toes curling from the unexpected pleasure. This was too much.

He kept going, pumping his fingers and putting pressure on your prostate.

"M-Mal I'm gonna!—"

You came, squirts of white sticky cum came out the tip of your cock, you were holding on for so long. But Malcom looked satisfied, his smile never faltering as he kissed your tear filled eyes, licking away the salty water.

"You did so well baby, m' gonna fill you up now alright?—you look so pretty while cumming."

He pulled his fingers out of your hole, much to your disappointment. Malcom slid his sweatpants off along with his boxers, pumping his cock a few times before grabbing a pack of condom in your cabinet.

He was big, it was obvious, you knew it was going to be possible— but seeing it is leaving you speeches.

"Like what you see? It's all yours honey."

Malcom tears the condom with his teeth, it was hot. You weren't even going to lie about that, but seeing how he was rolling the condom on his cock made you feel dissapointed— you wanted to feel everything, his cock and his cum. You wanted to know how much he could shove inside you before it was too much.

"Ah... C-Can you not wear the condom?"

He looked back with a bit of confusion.

"Hm? Didn't you but this..?"

"Y-Yeah but, i— I want you to fill me."

Something seemed to have snapped inside of Malcom, he let out a small chuckle and dove back to your lips, giving it a rushed kiss.

"I'll fill you to the brim, don't worry baby.. "

He pulls the condom out his cock, throwing it the the side in favor of lining his leaking tip at your gaping hole. Malcom grabbed your thighs and pushed your knees to your chest, letting your cock lay pathetically on your stomach. You sucked in a deep breath as he slowly pushed his cock in.

You let out a shrilled moan, throwing your head back against the sheets of the bed while Malcom had leaned to connect your lips to his, trying to distract you from the hissing pain that was your asshole.

"Relax baby, it'll be in soon.. "

He kept kissing your lips, as you had wrapped your arms round his shoulders, clawing at his back. You would feel bad if it weren't for the incredible feeling of his cock filling your body, it was big—so big.

After a few minutes, you could Malcom's movements stop.

"It's in— m'gonna move now, alright baby?"

"haa—o-okay.."

Malcom's thrust were slow at first, which made you gasp and moan whenever he penetrated in. After a while his pace began quicker, making his cock go deeper and deeper in you.

"S-Shit, you're tight— fuck, you feel heavenly."

You could only cry out, as his cock moved deeper in, feeling every push that rush all the way to your throat. Both of you sweating, panting, and moaning about how good it felt.

His eyes glued onto yours, never breaking eye contact, his hair sticking slightly to his face as he caged you beneath his arms, this was like a fantasy. His cock was moving in and out as he whispered praises to you.

"You're so beautiful, fuck."

And—

"C-can't believe—shit— you were hiding such a sexy body away from me, hun. Not gonna stop until your filled and full, alright?—"

This bastard, acting like he could just say shit like that without making your heart drum. Malcom had kept thrusting his hips, chasing his climax just as much you craved to be stuffed full of his cum.

After a few more thrusting he came, strings of his thick warm cum filling you— to the point where it leaked out of you. But Malcom kept this thrusting, shoving his cum inside whilst latching his lips into yours.

Along with his cum, you came with him, your cum spraying pathetically on your stomach as it went limp.

And finally— he stops, using his cock to plug his cum inside, preventing it to spill out of you. You were full, the feeling of the warm liquid sitting inside your hole as his cock remained inside, you would die from this if you could.

You were both left panting, trying to catch your breath before he grins back down at you.

"How about another round, baby?"

You sipped the mug of coffee that your boyfriend had left you, even leaving a note as a good morning. He had only left a bit ago but he was planning to stay inside the dorm with you to have a date night. You couldn't wait.

A sudden ringing interrupted your thoughts, you checked to see your phone— it was Sofie.

"I should probably thank her.. "

You answered the call and pressed your phone to your ear.

"Yo, [Name]! Hopefully your fuck session went well, I heard it all the way next door! "

"Sofie I'm going to fucking kill you."

✩꙳I hope you enjoyed that! I had never wrote sex scenes before so I hope I did well~

-> Feel free to request more! Be as detailed as you'd like.

[solxamber]

Prologue: A Day Like No Other

This is the prologue for the 1k Event! It'll split into routes from here!

1k Masterlist

When you woke up that morning, you expected an ordinary day—classes, Grim stealing food from your tray, and maybe an explosion or two courtesy of Ace and Deuce. What you didn’t expect was for nearly every boy in the entire school to suddenly decide, out of nowhere, that they wanted to ask you out.

Riddle Rosehearts

He corners you right after class, red as a lobster, clutching a rulebook in one hand like it’s his lifeline. "I… I thought you might like to attend a formal tea ceremony with me this weekend. You have excellent posture, and I believe we would engage in delightful conversation."

He clears his throat and adjusts his collar. "Of course, I’ll have a list of acceptable topics for us to discuss."

You stare at him. He's shaking slightly.

"...Is this a date?"

His ears turn crimson. "It is not—" He exhales deeply. "Yes, it is. Please say yes."

Trey Clover

Trey smiles warmly as he approaches you after club activities. "Hey, I made a batch of tarts, and I thought we could eat them together. Just us. I mean... It’d be nice to spend time with you. Alone."

He rubs the back of his neck, trying not to look embarrassed. "And if you’d like, I could teach you how to bake something... Maybe, uh, something sweet?"

Cater Diamond

Cater pops out of nowhere, phone already in hand and pointed at you. "Yooo! Wanna go on a date with me? We could take tons of selfies, make Vil jealous, and trend under #CoupleGoals."

You blink at him.

"And hey," he adds with a wink, "if we get along, maybe I’ll tag you in my socials. Exclusive content, you know?"

Ace Trappola

"Okay, look," Ace says, leaning casually against the wall. "I’m not saying you should pick me over, like, Leona or Malleus or whoever—but I’m way more fun than those guys. C’mon, let’s go out. I’ll buy you ice cream. Two scoops."

He wiggles his eyebrows. "You know you want to."

Deuce Spade

Deuce looks nervous but determined, like he’s psyching himself up for a boxing match. "I—I know I’m not the smoothest guy around, but I really like spending time with you! And if you’ll go out with me, I promise I’ll… I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Or at least, uh, I’ll try to be."

Leona Kingscholar

Leona, as usual, doesn’t even try to sugarcoat it. "Come nap with me."

"Is that your idea of a date?"

He shrugs. "You don’t seem like the type to want fancy dinners. This is less effort. Plus, I sleep better when you’re there."

Ruggie Bucchi

"Heyyyy," Ruggie grins, tugging on your sleeve. "How ‘bout you and me hit the town? I know a place that gives out free meals if you pretend to be engaged. C’mon, it’ll be fun!"

Jack Howl

Jack frowns, clearly struggling with the words. "I’m not great at this stuff, but... If you want, we could run together sometime? Or, uh, go on a walk?"

He glances away, ears twitching. "It’d be nice. With you."

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul adjusts his glasses, smiling like he’s just sealed the most important business deal of his life. "It would be an honor to escort you to a dinner at Mostro Lounge. Of course, all expenses will be covered. Consider it... an exclusive arrangement."

Jade Leech

Jade leans in just a little too close, that unsettling smile plastered on his face. "I believe we would have an interesting time exploring the woods together. Perhaps we’ll discover some mushrooms... or each other’s secrets?"

Floyd Leech

Floyd swings an arm over your shoulder, grinning ear to ear. "Oi, let’s go somewhere fun! If anyone bothers us, I’ll squish ‘em."

"Floyd, is this a date?"

"Obviously! Hehe, you're stuck with me now, Shrimpy."

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim’s eyes sparkle with excitement. "Wanna come to a party? It’ll be huge! And afterward, we can ride my magic carpet under the stars!"

You barely have time to respond before he’s already planning an itinerary.

Jamil Viper

Jamil sighs, looking like he’s regretting this already. "If Kalim hasn’t dragged you off yet… would you like to grab lunch? Somewhere quiet, where I won’t have to babysit anyone."

Vil Schoenheit

Vil regards you with a calculating smile. "We could attend an opera together. Or a fashion show, if you prefer. You have potential, you know. I wouldn’t mind refining it."

Rook Hunt

"Ah, mon trésor!" Rook exclaims, dramatic as ever. "It would be a delight to hunt for beauty with you! A picnic in the forest, perhaps? Under the moonlight, where all things enchanting dwell."

Epel Felmier

Epel grins mischievously. "Wanna go smash stuff?"

"...That’s your idea of a date?"

"Yup." He winks. "You in or what?"

Idia Shroud

Idia looks like he’s on the verge of fainting. "So, uh... I-I heard there’s this new game releasing. M-maybe we could play it together? Or not. Forget I asked."

Before you can respond, Ortho pops up cheerfully. "Say yes! My brother’s been practicing this for weeks!"

Malleus Draconia

Malleus looms over you, an almost shy smile on his face. "I would be honored if you would accompany me on a stroll through the gardens. There are many things I wish to show you... and, perhaps, learn from you as well."

Lilia Vanrouge

Lilia grins, his fangs glinting in the light. "How about a little mischief together? We could visit an amusement park or play pranks on the first years. Either way, I guarantee it’ll be memorable!"

Silver

Silver, looking half-asleep, gives you a soft smile. "If you’d like, we could... I don’t know. Sit under a tree and talk. Or just... exist, I guess. As long as it’s with you."

Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek stands stiffly, as if on the verge of saluting. "I would like to take you to dinner! Not that it matters to me, of course! But it would be... logical for us to spend time together. As comrades!"

Rollo Flamme

Rollo catches you alone, adjusting his pristine cuffs with his usual air of seriousness. “I dislike crowds, so I will be brief,” he says, voice as even as his posture. “Would you like to accompany me to a quiet tea house? I find your company... less intolerable than most.”

You blink at him.

He clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “Consider it a date.” Then, after a pause, he quickly adds, “If you wish, of course.”

His ears are red, but he refuses to meet your gaze, determined to keep his dignity intact.

And just like that, you find yourself drowning in invitations. Your phone buzzes with reminders from Ortho ("Don't forget to reply to my brother!") and Epel’s laughter rings in your ears. Ace and Deuce whisper ominously about Riddle’s wrath.

Leona, meanwhile, lazily waves from the other end of the hall. "Pick whoever you want. If it's not me, just don’t wake me up."

So...

Who will it be?

1k Event Masterlist (Go here for routes)

Main Masterlist

[myunghology]

THE LITTLE THINGS.

summary the little things they do for you, just because they love you. part 1/2 !!

pairings riddle, leona, azul, x gender neutral reader (established relationship)

tw none.. i think IDK

a/n — YAYYY I HIT 1.7K give me more clout pls ily all

✧ — RiDDLE ROSEHEARTS

Teaches you even though it's incredibly late at night. His eyes are already telling you that he's tired— and you try your best to tell him to go to bed.

But noooo, he cares too much about you to let you fail your worst subject. He casually waves his hand to dismiss your ideas for him to get sleep, putting you first before anything else. Well, at least he's learning more as well from teaching you.

Your head would be laying on his lap as he explains literal calculus at 4am in the morning, since you woke up in the middle of the night, making HIM wake up as well, why not torment you as well by making you learn with the time?

You give him such attitude early in the morning, saying "I'm sorry calculus sucks so bad, I'm sorry it's boring?" and yet he's completely whipped for you to the point that he's willing to sacrifice his sleeping schedule for you to learn. It's for your own good!

Riddle's possessive.. But in a good way! He just cares too much, not possessive to the point he's controlling, but possessive in a way that he's just overprotective of you.

He's the "Don't let anybody do this to you, unless that somebody's me." type of boyfriend. Can you tell he gets jealous easily? Gets extra snarky whenever someone asks about you, especially when they don't know you two are dating.

The type to pull you closer wherever just from being possessive, and makes an excuse that's basically just "Because you might get lost". Riddle.. The hallway is currently empty?

He will forever be your first and last love. The little things he does for you, it's everything. To you, and to everyone else who sees. The way he ties your shoelaces— which you didn't even notice that was untied.

When you make a mistake and a small "I'm sorry." comes out of your lips while your eyes get blurry, shaking his head as he shushes you and reassures you, everytime without fail.

The way he looks up at your pretty face right after, as smitten as ever and in complete awe, it's not that obvious, but you can see it in his eyes.

The way he's incredibly patient with you, the way you push your luck just to annoy him— luckily not getting beheaded by your own boyfriend. He has always fully believed time has brought you to him, hell, even fate itself maybe.

✧ — LEONA KiNGSCHOLAR

Leona always finds himself ending up with you, one way or another. At the end of the day, he's home. To you. And that's what matters the most to him.

The way he's burying his face in your chest, making a giggle escape out of your lips, a giggle he especially loves, but of course, would never really admit it directly.

This time, it's your turn to tease him for acting like this. But who could blame him? You're so comfortable.. And you're so.. Everything, really.

The soft sighs of relief he lets out when he feels your fingers thread through his long hair, indirectly asking you to not stop, and just keep going.

He compliments you without even realizing. Like it's a natural response to everything you do. From your little "Isn't this bow really cute, Leona?" with a soft smile as he goes, "Yeah. It'd be cuter if you'd wear it, though."

And you're left red and blushing, it honestly depends if he's going to tease you for it or not. But we all know, your blush is never going to get unnoticed by the prince himself.

Gets defensive whenever you bring this topic up. He will NEVER miss a day of complimenting you— even if it's something random. It's either that, or something completely heartwarming.

It ranges from, "You're really short, you know? Could barely even reach the top of the door even if you stand on your tippy-toes. But it's alright. I like it like that." with a smug grin.

To, "What's wrong with you? You're gorgeous. You're gonna be keepin' up with me in terms of persuasion, with those adorable little eyes of yours, are you?" sir this is a wendys

Can NEVER say no to you when you give him that special look. When you look up at him he absolutely melts— and it's painfully obvious it hurts physically (And by that, I mean butterflies.)

"If my significant other thinks they can just bat their cute lil eyes at me and get whatever they want, they're absolutely right." Type of mindset. He'd never admit it or say it out loud, either. We all saw that coming though, let's be honest..

Grits his teeth whenever you look at him with doe eyes, and it makes him weak because he especially loves your eyes, and how much they can say about you and how you're feeling.

✧ — AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Provides you with anything you need, without you needing to ask, almost everytime he notices. For other people, they'd need payment. But for you..? Ah, just forget about the goddamn contract at this point.

Actually, there IS a payment you have to do. Can you guess? It's definitely something cheesy or corny. Kills myself

Everytime you give him kisses all over his face, he's definitely all read. Who could blame him? We know he's not used to affection like this. And the fact that it's coming from you.. I don't know if that makes it worse or better at this point.

But of course, this will always come with a payment. More of a punishment— maybe. Having to wipe all your faint lipstick marks off his face when he has to be in the mostro lounge, making him just a few minutes late.

He picks up your habits. From talking or texting, no matter how different it is, he'll pick it up. From how much time you two spend together, I can't really say anyone's surprised..?

So, don't be surprised when he randomly responds to you with your usual attitude, or even just talking or texting a little bit like you as well.

The best part is, he doesn't even notice himself. When someone brings it up, he raises an eyebrow and acts like he doesn't know what they're talking about at all.

Gets all flustered when someone mentions you. It wouldn't even be about your relationship and he'd still be a blushing mess. Why? Um.. I dunno..

They probably wouldn't even realize you two are dating until they see Azul's wallpaper is you two, and when he opens his phone, most of the widgets there are your little selfies you send to him for fun.

Whether it'll be a literal thirst trap ("He's getting all red, please stop?" - Jade). Or a 0.5 picture of you sent by a mutual friend, or even Floyd who practically towers over you.

note — 𝔹𝕌ℝℕ 𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝔾𝔸𝕐𝕊 𝓑𝓤𝓡𝓝 𝓣𝓗𝓔 𝓖𝓐𝓨𝓢 𝙱𝚄𝚁𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙶𝙰𝚈𝚂 ꃳ꒤ꋪꋊ ꓄ꁝꏂ ꍌꋬꌦꇙ ฿ɄⱤ₦ ₮ⱧɆ ₲₳Ɏ₴ ᗷᑘᖇᘉ ᖶᕼᘿ ᘜᗩᖻS [̲̅B][̲̅U][̲̅R][̲̅N] [̲̅T][̲̅H][̲̅E] [̲̅G][̲̅A][̲̅Y][̲̅S] BURN THE GAYS ßÚRñ †HÈ GÄ¥§ B̶U̶R̶N̶ T̶H̶E̶ G̶A̶Y̶S̶ вυяη тнє gαуѕ ᏰᏬᏒᏁ ᎿᎻᎬ ᎶᎯᎽᏕ ᴮᵁᴿᴺ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴳᴬʸˢ БҴЯҊ ꚌӉЄ ԌДҰЅ ႦႮჁႶ ႵႹჹ ყმჄႽ B̤̮Ṳ̮R̤̮N̤̮ T̤̮H̤̮E̤̮ G̤̮A̤̮Y̤̮S̤̮ B̷U̷R̷N̷ T̷H̷E̷ G̷A̷Y̷S̷ B̲U̲R̲N̲ T̲H̲E̲ G̲̲A̲̲Y̲̲S̲ B̳U̳R̳N̳ T̳H̳E̳ G̳A̳Y̳S̳ B̾U̾R̾N̾ T̾H̾E̾ G̾A̾Y̾S̾ B͎U͎R͎N͎ T͎H͎E͎ G͎A͎Y͎S͎ B͓̽U͓̽R͓̽N͓̽ T͓̽H͓̽E͓̽ G͓̽A͓̽Y͓̽S͓̽ B҈U҈R҈N҈ T҈H҈E҈ G҈A҈Y҈D҈ B͙U͙R͙N͙ T͙H͙E͙ G͙A͙Y͙S͙ B͒U͒R͒N͒ T͒H͒E͒ G͒A͒Y͒S͒ B̻U̻R̻N̻ T̻H̻E̻ G̻A̻Y̻S̻ ḄỤṚṆ ṬḤẸ G̣ẠỴṢ

[codtrashsammy]

This is... love? (Simon Riley x Reader)

- SMUT SMUT SMUT - MDNI MDNI MDNI -

First time writing smut in a loooong time, so bare with me. Had an idea and ran with it. I hope you like it tho!

Simon Riley can fuck. But what about the first time you make love? Word Count: 2.8K

Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You

Warnings: crying during sex (not the bad kind tho, promise), explicit sex, p in v, praise (heavy heavy like on god), gentle love making <3 bc our boy can fuck, but what about other stuff too?!

Of course, you’ve fucked. Simon has been your boyfriend for 3 years now, you’re definitely comfortable to explore that part of your relationship now.

Simon has had you bent over every piece of furniture in your flat, has had you in every bed in your house, in the shower, on the floor, a couple of times on the balcony even. He’s had you pinned to walls in sketchy bar bathrooms, he’s had you in the back of his nice looking truck, the bed of that same truck- fuckin’ everywhere. That’s all it’s been, it’s been fucking. Rough, fast- always fucking godly, of course, but it’s primal. Animalistic, and you love it- you truly do love it. But this time you want to do things different. You want to slow it down, you want to fucking relish in the man you’re lucky to call your own. You don’t want to fuck, you want to make love to him. Simon has always been… not exactly averse to your softer affections, as he’s always a very willing participant, but you sometimes notice he seems… overwhelmed. Like he can’t quite handle the raw, genuine emotion behind a soft, tender, lingering touch. His cheeks heat up, he gets this certain look in his eyes, and while he’s never been mean about it- he backs away from it. He shies away from it. 

You’ve tried talking to him about it- you’ve tried many, many times to bring it up to him. And yet the bastard always has a way to switch up the conversation, to change things around, to slip past the topic so easily- he can spin straw into gold with that mouth of his.

So, you’ve decided to take matters into your own hands.

You’re laying in bed, cuddled right up to him, your leg thrown over his hips and an arm thrown over his chest while you lay on your side, your head nestled perfectly in the crook of his arm. Simon’s hand idly plays with the ends of your hair, his arm wrapped around you, simply holding you to him as if to make sure you don’t slip away. 

Simon is seemingly lost in thought, eyes closed and body more or less relaxed- as relaxed as Simon can be when the man is always seemingly on alert to every little sound. 

“Hey, Si,” You murmur out, your fingers idly tracing random shapes against the fabric of his shirt. He hums to let you know he’s heard you, but otherwise doesn’t really react. Fuck, you love this man. You love every inch of him, everything about him. You even love that he always leaves the toilet seat up (you swear he does it out of spite) because you know you’d miss it if he wasn’t around to keep doing it.

“Can I try something?” You ask, tone soft and relaxed, casual. Not at all portraying the thoughts in your head, your secret little ‘mastermind’ plan. 

“Tha’s quite vague, ain’t it, love?” Simon grumbles out, voice low as if to match the atmosphere of simple peace and quiet. “Hmm…” You trail off, a playful smile growing on your face- not that he’s looking to see it, “I think it’s pretty simple. Either yes or no.” You quip with a nod, moving to lean up, resting your weight on your elbows so you can look down at him with a soft, gentle smile. And of course at feeling you move, his arm moves from around your shoulders to around your waist- always touching you, never wanting you far when he’s finally home. (You don’t realize home is you- but of course he’s never quite told you that). Simon’s eyes open at your movement, too. Pretty brown eyes, half lidded in his more-or-less relaxed state as he looks up to meet your gaze, his gaze soft in the way it only ever is for you- his mask resting along the nightstand by the bed. There if he needs it- but it’s rarely needed with you around. A warm light, easily able to lighten up even the darkest depths of his mind to keep his demons at bay.

“....yes?” Simon offers after a few moments of contemplation, a curious look in his own eyes as they scan over your face- looking for a hint of what possible fuckery you could be up to at this point. Your soft smile stretches out into a soft grin as you lean down, pressing your lips to Simon's and letting your eyes flutter shut. One of your hands come up, tracing softly up his chest, up his throat, along his jaw before settling to cup his cheek.

You can feel his breath hitch the slightest bit at the soft touch, the lingering touch. This is the kind of kiss that usually overwhelms him, but maybe he’s in a good mood tonight. Your thumb softly caresses his cheek while your tongues intertwine, and you can feel the moment Simon tries to speed it up.

You pull away, eyes still closed, your lips brushing against his as you speak, “No, no,”

And you promptly place your lips back against his own, not giving him time to start spitting his bullshit about how he’s going to make you see stars if you don’t stop teasing him- because that’s not the goal here. 

You shift your body, moving to straddle Simon's hips (a feat in its own right), keeping one hand cupping his cheek while the other moves to the hem of his shirt, slowly running over the skin above the waistband of his pajama pants, before delving under the fabric and feeling the softness of his tummy, touch so soft and gentle, so loving against his body.

Simon doesn’t know what to think, his own hands seeming to hesitate before they come to rest along your thighs, squeezing the fat there a bit roughly- but that’s okay, you can teach him. 

“Love your hands, Si,” You murmur as you finally pull away from the kiss, only to trail kisses down his jawline, slow and soft, occasionally nipping at the skin.

Simon let's out a grunt, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs before moving to cup your ass, pushing your body to force your clothed cunt to grind against his already hard cock, and a breathy moan leaves your lips from the stimulation- but damn it, you’re doing this your way this time.

“I’ll stop,” You warn, voice still soft, but there's… an edge to it for once, one stating that you really will.

A soft groan leaves Simon's lips, along with a scoff at the absolute audacity of you, “Love,” Simon says, in warning more than anything. 

“I don’t wanna hear it,” You’re quick to say, before leaning back to meet his pretty, brown-eyed gaze, your hands moving to lift his shirt which he eagerly enough helps with, throwing the fabric away and down to the floor like it was the very thing that killed his family.

…a bit much, but you can understand his eagerness.

“You’re so beautiful, Simon,” You murmur out, eyes filled with nothing but adoration as you trail your hands across the familiar expanse of his chest, fingers running through his chest hair, thumbs brushing over his nipples before trailing down his sides. Your palms run over the subtle softness of his belly, where you know there is muscle hidden underneath.

A hiss leaves Simon's lips, and you can feel his cock twitch from where you’re perched in his lap. “Bloody ‘ell, love, the fuck ya doin?” Simon mutters, hands moving to grab your hips.

“Jus’ be good for me, yeah?” You murmur out, a soft, adoring smile on your face as you finally look up to meet his gaze.

The sight alone is enough to make you pause slightly. He’s not like this when you’re fucking- and you don’t even have his dick in you yet! His cheeks are flushed, not from exertion, he’s just flustered, his bottom lip between his teeth, brows pinched together with pretty glossy eyes. Almost like he could cry- but not quite. 

“You’re always so good for me, Si,” You murmur, grinding your hips against his own and letting out another breathy moan at the feeling, his hands tightening their grip of your hips in response. Just one look and you can tell he’s overwhelmed already- or at the very least getting there. But he hasn’t once told you to stop- he’s simply tried speeding you up, which you have no interest in. Not this time.

You grab his hands, kissing each of his knuckles before slowly dragging them underneath your own shirt, placing his palms against your breasts, his thumbs already swiping at your nipples, at the already peaked buds there. “Always takin’ such good care of me, my love,” You praise, and you reward him with another slow grind, beginning to set such a slow, but lovely pace, just enough friction to make you want more- but that’s the goal. A slow build, no rush, no desperation, just… slow. Loving. Gentle. Tender. Simon visibly gulps, his hands squeezing the flesh of your tits with a groan before he’s tugging your shirt off and adding it to the growing pile on the floor. He tries to buck his hips, tries to get your movements to speed up- but you simply lift up, ending the contact altogether, and send him a pointed look.

“Do ya not want me to fuck ya, love? What’s all this then?” Simon says with a huff, eyes narrowing slightly as they meet your own. Anyone else would say he’s frustrated- and yeah, partly he is. But you know your Simon, you can see that glossiness to his eyes, can see the slightest twitch of his brow- he’s overwhelmed- he’s not sure how to handle this, the softness, the gentleness. Simon likes to say he can’t be soft, can’t be gentle, can’t be loving. But it’s been 3 years with this man- you know he can. He just needs to be taught- it’s simply something he’s never had before, it’s not like he was born with the knowledge. “No,” You answer with a pleased, breathy sigh, resting your hips back against his own and beginning that slow grind once more, feeling his cock twitch at the action. “Don’t wanna fuck, Si. Jus’ be good for me, baby. Jus’ sit here, look pretty for me. Always so good for me. Jus’ let me love you, sweet boy,” You murmur out, eyes meeting his own and holding their gaze.

You trail your hands down his arms along his shoulders and collar bones, quite literally loving every inch of his skin.

Simon’s cheeks get hotter, the look he gives you is entirely overwhelmed, spooked even. Like the thought of being loved is absolutely horrifying alone.

“Be good? Kinda kinky, innit?” Simon mumbles out in response, looking at you with a quirked brow.

But you don’t stop. And he doesn’t stop you.

Clothes continue to fly off, positions change, but somehow you manage to remain in full control for once. And he lets you. Sure, you have to correct him at times, have to remind him to slow down, all with soft smiles and gentle praise- and he eats it up like a starving hound.

Even now, as moans and breathy praise leaves your lips, Simon being vocal, a rarity on it’s own, at least to this extent.

“Feel s’ good around me, love, fuck, so good,” He fucking babbles, his cock dragging along the walls of your drooling cunt at a slow, but steady pace. You’re underneath him now- stereotypical missionary- but it’s divine.

You pull Simon’s head down, pressing his forehead against your own, your legs wrapped loosely around his hips as his cock drags deliciously over all those sweet spots inside, the soft mound above his cock pressing against your clit with every. Single. Thrust.

It’s a slow build up, so slow, and while he focuses on clenching his fists into the sheets above your head, resting on his elbows on either side of it, you focus on touching him, praising him.

“Always so good to me, baby,” You practically purr the words.

“I love you so much, Si, so much,” You say, breathless as your back arches, forehead pressed to his and eyes closed in bliss of the slow building pleasure.

“Like you were made jus’ for me, sweet boy,” Your hands move to wrap around his shoulders, one of them tangling in his hair.

“Love how you make me feel, Simon,” You moan out, legs tightening their grip around his hips.

If your eyes weren’t closed, you’d see how Simon is looking at you right now. Simon is looking at you like you’re a fucking goddess… but the vision is blurry, from the pure overwhelming, unshed tears in his eyes. God, he’s pathetic, isn’t he? Crying? During sex? But he can’t even entertain the thought- thoughtful praise continuing to spill from your lips as he continues his slow, languid, deep thrusts. 

He focuses on the feeling, on the way your words are soothing parts of him he didn’t care to recognize were broken, he focuses on the way your hands trail across his skin so fucking lovingly- as if he’s actually worth something. As if he’s someone and not a monster. As if he doesn’t have hundreds of lives taken by the very hands you praise for touching you.

No- no, none of that matters right now, as for the first time in his fucking life Simon Riley doesn’t fuck- he makes love. 

“God- g-gonna make me cum, Simon- fuck- love the way you make me cum-” You whimper out, back arching into him and fuck, Simon can’t take it anymore.

Simon doesn’t know what to think. Sure, the pleasure is mind-numbing, your pussy always feels so fucking good when it’s wrapped around his cock like this, but it’s damn near tripled by the pure feelings you’re forcing him to feel. The way his chest burns, but it’s so good- he can fucking feel the love you have for him, the way you hold him in your heart, the way you think of him as though he put the very stars in the sky for you and you alone. And he would- fuck he absolutely would. He’d give you the world should you ask for it- fuck he loves you, he loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

He doesn’t speed up- he wants the slower build up, too, doesn’t want to rush it, but he’s going to shatter if more praise leaves your lips so he presses down, slotting his mouth against your own, a minor distraction really.

You can feel the wetness to his cheeks.

You know it’s not sweat.

Your hands move to cup his cheeks so softly, so lovingly, so gently. You moan into his mouth as the pleasure builds until that band finally fucking snaps, and you’re on cloud nine.

Simon buries his head in the crook of your neck, his hot, thick cum shooting ropes into you as your cunt squeezes his cock like a vice, truly milking him for all he’s worth.

You’re both panting, but Simon's head stays hidden- you know why, you can feel the tears against your neck, but you don’t say anything.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you come down from your high, nuzzling your cheek against the top of his head.

“Love you so much,” You whisper out, running a hand through his hair, still slightly breathless.

You can feel Simon place the softest kiss to your neck, arms squeezing you almost too tightly, but you don’t say anything. 

You know your Simon. He’s not a monster. He’s not a killing machine. He’s a man- your man. Simon’s not unlovable, he’s not broken. He’s not stupid for simply not knowing. He’s not stupid for simply needing to be taught.

And you love him. Gods, do you love him. You’ll teach him. You’ll teach him it’s okay, he’s safe here, in your arms. He’s safe to love, to cry, to breakdown, he’s safe to get the very things he’s never had- and you’ll give them willingly.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. His now soft cock still buried in your cunt, his tears have subsided awhile ago, but he’s still unwilling to move from his spot- not that you’re complaining. 

It’s so quiet you barely even hear it, but fuck, you’re so glad you did.

“Love ya,” Simon mumbles against your skin, his voice so quiet, hoarse and rough. But so very soft, so very gentle. Yeah. Simon Riley can fuck like a god. But Simon Riley is learning how to love you fully, how to make love to you fully- and he wouldn’t change a thing. Neither would you.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR!

PAIRING — kim mingyu x fem!reader

❝ AND THE DANCE FLOOR IS FILLING UP WITH BLOOD, BUT OH LORD, YOU’VE NEVER BEEN SO IN LOVE! ❞

WORD COUNT — 17k

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, unrealistic circumstances, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst, medium long hair!gyu bc self-indulgence, tsundere-ish reader again guys sorry i love her so bad, mentions of parental neglect, this ended up so long help

♪ verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex,, florence + the machine - mermaids,, zayn - bordersz,, mikky ekko - who are you, really?,, q - alone,, danna paola - tenemos que hablar,, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, summer camp - i want you

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. the music recs above are also really nice to get into the vibe! enjoyyyy :D

[ ONE ] ✧˚ · .⋆ ★ [ JUMP TO PART TWO ]

i. ASK ME THE TRUTH AND I’LL TELL YOU A LIE

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police receives a call from you, saying your father hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector — whose name you did not bother remembering — before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what exactly happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that were the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

all you can do is sigh. “i was his daughter in blood and name only. nothing more.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

leaning back in your chair, you list a few things. “he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.” you state. like always, there’s a tangible coldness to your voice, which he finds soothing, for whatever reason.

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair.

you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

ii. THE HATRED WE BEAR

you find yourself staring at your father’s tombstone with a numb face and the wind breezing through your hair. your makeup is slightly smudged under your eyes from the tears you shed just an hour before, while you were giving the public a final speech regarding his passing.

the funeral was long — too long.

at a certain point, once the whole thing was done and everyone left, you decided to take a quiet moment for yourself in the graveyard to let everything sink in.

you made the mistake of thinking you’d left alone.

a voice you’re too familiar with speaks up behind you. “i’m sorry for your loss.”

of course it’s kim mingyu out of all people who’s still here, sneaking up on you.

you don’t have the energy to make a snarky comment this time. “i’d ask why you’re still here, but it’s a question i already know the answer to.”

he still offers you his answer. “i’m here to check up on you.”

well, that takes you by surprise. “why?”

“you lost the one parent you had left. i don’t want you to be alone.”

something about that sentence fuels a sudden anger in you. he’s got some fucking nerve, saying that to you. “maybe you should’ve considered that a couple years ago. you know, before you decided to become my dad’s little protege.”

even as a little girl, your bond with your father was a shitty one. your mother passed when you were young, so you barely have any memories left of her.

in an attempt to win his love and affection, you always did everything your father asked of you, yet your efforts were hardly acknowledged. you found him to be a harsh and cruel man, but surely with you being his daughter, his only child, he must’ve cared for you. or so you always told yourself.

something about your yearning for his approval and support changed for the worse when mingyu’s mother became a prominent business partner to your father, about nine years ago. it made him spend more time with the kim family, and you have no idea how or why it happened, but mingyu became like a son for him.

you saw how well your dad treated him, and you cried for a long, long time as you compared it to his neglect towards you. for every pat on mingyu’s back, you got scolded for not being good enough. whenever he got praised, you got discarded. it’s no miracle that you came to be the way that you are. detached, perceptive, appearing to be just as unfeeling as the man who raised you.

you hated your father. with all your heart.

but you grew to hate kim mingyu more.

so to hear him say that he doesn’t want you to be alone — that takes the goddamn cake.

he lowers his head at your words. “it wasn’t like that.”

“right. of course it wasn’t.” your voice is painfully spiteful.

“i wouldn’t have done it if i knew it was at your expense. i’m sorry.”

he’s trying to be nice to you, not understanding yet that it’s actually doing more damage, making you angrier. “the last thing i want is your fucking pity.”

“then what do you want?”

“nothing you can give me.” it’s a subtle final warning coming from you, because you’re actually about to explode at him. “just leave me be.”

“please, just... i wanna help you.”

like a ticking time bomb, you suddenly hit your limit. finally, you turn around, facing him, and it’s only then that he truly sees how upset you are, like a storm suddenly changing its direction, and he’s in the way.

“help me? you’d help me by getting the fuck out of my face. you wanna know what i want, mingyu? i want to know what in god’s name everyone loves so much about you, what it is that made my father shut me out completely and replace me with you. he gave you more love than he ever gave me. just looking at you makes me sick. what the fuck did he see in you that he didn’t see in me?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from pouring your emotions out to the guy in front of you. “why did he hate me so much? even in death, he favors you over me. he left you... everything. a final ‘fuck you’ to his own child. and for what? for you?”

the fact that you got word from your father’s lawyer that your father chose to leave everything he had to mingyu instead of you was like the straw that broke the camel’s back.

throughout your life, you always did what was expected of you. you were the perfect daughter.

and for what?

the fact that your father grew to hate you and love this asshole so much that he left you not a single penny to your name — that is your tipping point.

and mingyu just wordlessly allows you to continue ranting, almost as if he deserves it.

“what the fuck is so special about you, huh? because i don’t get it. sure, you’ve got a nice face and you’re a smart guy, but i don’t believe you actually give a shit about others. i bet you came here today to rub my dad’s inheritance in my face — you fucking pretentious douchebag.”

“i’m sorry. i never meant—” he stumbles, nearly falling over as he backs away while you keep stepping forward, feeling surprisingly small in front of you, in spite of his tall frame.

“i don’t give a shit if this is what you intended to happen or not! i’m all alone.” you show your sadness right between the anger and hostility, vulnerable in front of him. “no family like everyone else, no money, no house, nothing. abandoned by the one person i had left.”

he looks at you as if you’ve just slapped him across the face. he’s never even shown you a hint of vulnerability — nor have you for that matter — so why is he showing it now?

you’re too deep into your breakdown to think rationally about it. “you took literally everything that i had. and i’ll never forgive you for that.”

“please, let me—let me fix it.” he chokes out, as overwhelmed by your strong emotions as you are yourself.

the harshness of your words makes him feel like he’s crumbling in your presence. “talk to me like you care about me one more goddamn time, and i’ll make you regret ever meeting me in the first place.”

in all the years that you’ve known him, you don’t think you’ve ever seen him flinch — you doubt any of your words have ever hurt him.

until this moment, it seems. but why is he even hurt? you don’t care about him and he doesn’t care about you. it’s always been that way, and you have a hard time believing it’ll ever change.

the moment you walk away from him with a sharp pain in your chest, pushing him to the side by his shoulder, he’s left behind in a shocked and bewildered state, neither of you aware that a pair of curious eyes witnessed the whole exchange.

iii. ULTERIOR MOTIVES

“the full inheritance of your father has been transferred over to you.”

the cup of tea you were raising stills with your hand. your eyes narrow at your lawyer as you’re seated in the garden of your father’s estate. “what—how? why? it wasn’t passed down to me.”

“no, but the person it was passed down to can always make the decision to pass it on. and he did — surprisingly with no strings attached,” he tells you, putting the document from the notary in front of you, “i had it all double-checked. everything’s there, the documents signed by kim mingyu himself.”

just hearing the name makes you grimace, putting you off your tea. “and there’s absolutely nothing he wants from me?”

“nothing was mentioned, no. he did, however, leave you a note.”

“what does it say?”

your lawyer raises his brow as he reads it, handing it to you instead of reading it out loud, which makes you give him a puzzled look before casting your eyes downwards to the piece of paper.

tomorrow, 4:30, my apartment. all you have to do is sign the papers. i look forward to the day you’ll make me regret meeting you.

“that asshole.” you mutter to yourself, not loud enough for your lawyer to hear it, but he’s certainly got an idea of how you feel about the whole situation.

“you do, of course, always have the option to reject the inheritance, but i would highly recommend not to. frankly, in all of my years of experience in this field, i’ve never felt a bigger need to encourage a client to take a deal.”

once you’ve picked up the documents and skimmed over the words, you look back at him. “and if i did accept it, it wouldn’t contain any possible implications for me in the long term?”

“none. it is... fairly remarkable he’s willing to give you the full inheritance for nothing in return, even if he and his family are known for their wealth. but it wouldn’t be a significant loss for him, considering the capital he already has to his name.” the man explains, not needing to spell it out for you.

you put down your cup. “knowing him, i’m not so sure he doesn’t want anything. i suppose i’ll have to talk to him about it myself, tomorrow.”

your lawyer highly encourages you to do so, leaving you to spend the rest of the day wondering what he could possibly want from you.

and so the following day, at 4:30 sharp, you step into his apartment — penthouse is the more fitting term. you’ll admit, though, that he’s got style.

it’s dead silent in his place, save for the metronome in the background and the slow brew of his coffee machine. he’s wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with black trousers as he approaches you. “glad you could make it. coffee?”

“why are you willing to give me the inheritance?” you ask directly, not feeling up for the unnecessary chitchat. you’ve always hated small talk. “if it was just a set-up, i’m leaving.”

he doesn’t seem to be even the slightest bit surprised by your forwardness. “i’m willing to give it to you because a) i don’t need it, and b) i don’t want it. i think it’s ridiculous your dad set up his will like this.”

“well, that makes two of us.” you fake a polite smile, clearly very sarcastically, putting your hand on your hip. “you asked me to come sign the papers, but i have yet to see them.”

mingyu smiles a little at you. of course you’d skip straight to business — you never were a girl of many words. he walks over to a cupboard and takes a sealed folder with the documents out of a drawer, handing it to you.

when you attempt to take the folder from him, he swiftly retracts his hand like the asshole he is. “it’s not completely free, though.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose. “of course. i should’ve known better than to believe you were willing to do something out of the kindness of your own heart.”

he just keeps going as if he didn’t hear you, very much used to the little quips you throw at him by now. “don’t worry, i think you can manage this very small task for me.”

“just tell me what you want already—”

“my family’s hosting a gala next week, on friday. i’d like you to be my date.”

you’re baffled. this is what he wants in return for the inheritance worth millions of dollars? to have you on his arm for a single night?

oh, hell no. you’re not falling for it.

“why? you wanna publicly humiliate me or something?” you question, a deep frown settled in your forehead.

he huffs, annoyed that you’d think that low of him. “i know we’ve always hated eachother, but, maybe, during a hard time… it would be nice to have one relaxed night. and yeah, i wouldn’t mind doing that with a pretty girl to keep me company. what do you say? deal?”

not once in all the years you’ve known him has he ever called you pretty.

“fine. but don’t think about pulling any stunts.”

“wouldn’t dare.” his smile sits somewhere beween teasing and serious when he finally hands you the papers.

you sit down and briefly scan the documents, not signing them right away to have them checked by your lawyer first. “if everything in this is according to the plan, you’ll have them signed by tomorrow morning.”

“okay. see you friday.” he winks at you, escorting you to his front door, a subtle grin on his face that gives off the impression he’s planning something, and you can only imagine what it might be.

there is one good thing about having to spend time in his family home, though — and that’s to search his rooms to find anything that might implicate him having something to do with your father’s murder.

since there’s still a culprit to be named.

with your own agenda in mind, you walk out of his apartment, searching for the name of your stylist in your contacts.

you’re going to need a dress, after all.

iv. A PROPOSAL

with a stern look on your face, you look at the entrance of the gala from the tinted window of your car. it’s all bright lights and colorful decorations, candles, flowers — the kim family is well known for their luxurious and memorable parties. you’ve attended plenty of them. while you and mingyu may not get along, his sister and mother are genuine sweethearts, some of the kindest and most welcoming people you know.

if only you could say the same for the asshole you’re about to spend the evening with.

after checking your makeup in the pocket-sized mirror for a final time, your driver opens your door so you can step out of the car, which leaves you on your own in front of the stairs.

mingyu originally mentioned he wanted to pick you up at your home like the gentleman he very much claims to be, but you very quickly shut the idea down and told him you’d just meet him at his family’s mansion.

so here you are.

attending a gala only a month after your father’s funeral must seem like an… interesting choice, to say the least. the people you come across express their condolences and ask if you’re doing well — you wonder if the sentiment is real or not — and you tell them you’re here because it serves well as a distraction.

you’ve become an excellent liar over the years.

as you’re standing at the top of the stairs, leaning on the railing, you observe the people on the dance floor below. those who aren’t dancing are chattering, the noises of clinking glasses and laughter filling your ears.

most of the time, you’re able to somewhat enjoy this life. but the truth is that it can be as exhausting as it is glamorous.

but with your last living parent gone, you do feel a sense of freedom, even if it is lonely at times.

not like you didn’t feel lonely when he was still alive.

you didn’t love him or care for your father. you cared for the hope that someday he would change. that he would show you he did care for you, even a little bit.

but that day never came.

he was primarily an investor, so at least you haven’t been burdened with having to take over a business or anything like it. having no siblings either, you feel like you should take this opportunity to start fresh; focus on building your own career and use your father’s money for things he’d never approve of.

suddenly, you spot your date in the midst of the crowd, breaking you out of your train of thoughts. his half-long hair looks pretty on him, you have to admit, the few strands in front of his face paired with the tailored, navy suit giving him the appearance of a model.

he’s currently talking to an older woman who clearly seems to adore him, the smile he puts up making her give him a gentle, loving squeeze on his upper arms. like always, no one is able to read the bitterness you feel as your face remains neutral.

growing up in your restricted social circle of the country’s wealthiest families, your group of peers wasn’t extremely big. you all went to the same primary school, same private high school. mingyu was always one of if not the most popular kid at school. an effortless ace at every fucking thing. everyone loved him, be it your peers or their parents.

you wouldn’t say you weren’t popular. quite the opposite, actually. your best friend was the queen bee of the school, as she was always striving to be the best in everything. top of the class, highest achievements, a true perfectionist at heart. bold, definitely a bit judgemental and classist too, but once she’s your friend, she’s the sweetest girl in the world. she did like to dabble in some drama with others if it came onto her path.

and you were the opposite. you preferred to steer clear of any drama, much preferring to watch it unfold from the sidelines — as you usually just didn’t care enough to interfere with it — and you were never quite as talkative as your best friend.

the sentences leaving your mouth are always quick, direct, sharp and without stutter. you’re masterful at small talk, even though you hate it. you know how to play people like a fiddle. your father made you use your manipulation skills to good use rather frequently.

many consider you cold and calculated.

which is true, of course. but you still have a heart, even if it barely beats.

the outburst you gave mingyu after your father’s funeral must’ve come as a shock to him. no one has ever seen you in such a vulnerable and weak state, and out of all the people who could’ve seen it, it naturally had to be him — and that makes you uncomfortable.

once he’s finished his conversation, he looks in front of him, then up at the balcony — and he locks eyes with you.

you give him a look of acknowledgment, but that’s it. he doesn’t seem to mind, though, still shining as brightly as ever, making his way up the stairs as fast as he can. “i’m sorry i wasn’t at the entrance to greet you, i didn’t think you’d be here so soon.”

“it’s fine.”

he glances up and down, admiring the dress you chose. “you look gorgeous.”

the deeply dark green dress with its boat neckline, long and fitted sleeves and intricate gold embroidery makes you look elegant. with the dress itself already being quite the statement piece, you chose to pair it with dainty earrings, your hair half-up and curled.

“thank you.” you don’t bother saying anything about his appearance. he must be used to it at this point.

“can i get you something to drink?”

you test the waters by throwing in a joke. “what, planning on poisoning me?”

his eyes flicker for a moment, stricken by something you can’t quite place, which makes you blink at him. his flirtatious and charming self returns within a mere second, and he proceeds to snicker at your joke. “i could, but where’d be the fun in that?”

rolling your eyes at him, you take his arm once he’s offered it, keeping in mind you’re doing this for the inheritance.

the time goes by quicker than expected. he introduces you to some of the people he’s close with, tells you stories you’ve never heard before, even asks you about yours.

a few of his friends come by as well, surprised to see you by mingyu’s side. most people your age here know that you and him have never quite gotten along, to put it lightly.

when they subtly ask about it, mingyu tells them he insisted you came to distract yourself from the death of your father, and that you could probably use a party.

it raises more question marks as to what his motive is for asking you to be here tonight. what is he gaining from this? he hasn’t humiliated you yet. if anything, he’s only spoken of you highly, save for the little snark he keeps between the two of you.

it’s strange. really strange.

after a while, once all the guests have been drinking a bit, you decide to set your own plan in motion. this might be your only chance to snoop around here, as you doubt you’ll find yourself in here again anytime soon.

you’re literally invited in his home — you’d be a fool not to check his room.

unfortunately, just as you try to disappear from the crowd, mingyu extends his hand to you. “dance with me?”

just as you’re about to refuse him, you remember that this is the one night you have to be nice to him, all so he can give you the inheritance that was meant to be yours in the first place.

with a small sigh, you slide your hand in his, at which he grins triumphantly.

before you know it, you’re in the middle of the room together, and he has his one hand on your lower back, the other hand intertwined with yours. he’s smooth with his moves, you have to admit.

the question has already left your mouth when you process it. “why am i here? i’m sure there’s a reason i needed to be your date tonight.”

mingyu cocks his head at you. “i think you’ve had to endure a lot the past couple weeks. the incident, the interrogations, the press, the shit with the inheritance — i’m impressed you haven’t lost your mind yet.”

“how do you know i haven’t?” you ask, and he twirls you around, his hands feeling like they’re burning on your skin. “wasn’t my breakdown after the funeral enough to prove you otherwise?”

“well, looking back, i should’ve probably left you alone in that moment. but i did think about what you said, and you can correct me if i’m wrong, but i feel like your father and our ties to him were what made us hate eachother so much. now that he’s gone, maybe we can… i don’t know. tolerate one another.”

you make sure to hide your confusion from him. does he really not see it? sure, the main reason you’ve always despised mingyu was because of his relationship with your father, but you weren’t exactly best friends before that either.

even putting it like that would still make it the understatement of the year.

if he actually pictures the two of you becoming friends, though, he’s lost it.

unsure of what to tell him, you give him a shitty excuse to escape the conversation. “i’m just gonna use the ladies’ room, if you don’t mind.” you let mingyu know, and he nods at you in acknowledgement, caught off guard by you leaving so suddenly.

so you walk off, the voices of the people and the music in the hall fading into the background as you trail off.

now that you’re alone, you can finally go check his room.

it’s harder to navigate the mansion than you thought. hallways that all look similar, god knows how many rooms — you hope you won’t get lost here.

one of your best friends is good friends with mingyu’s sister, and so she knows the place like the back of her hand. when you asked her for the layout of the place, she did think it strange, but you told her she had nothing to worry about.

mingyu’s bedroom and study are supposedly on the third floor of the east wing, and the party takes place in the west wing.

so that’s just fucking great.

your best friend did warn you that he most often keeps his doors locked whenever visitors are present, so to ensure you could get in, you snatched the key from his pocket when he was dancing with you earlier.

it almost makes you chuckle when you think about how easy it was.

when you’ve finally arrived at what seems to be the door to mingyu’s room, you double-check the environment around you to see whether anyone’s following you, and when it appears to be safe, you shove the key into the lock, twisting it.

you exhale when realizing it’s the right key.

entering the room, you quickly shut it behind you, taking in the sight.

it’s raining outside, which you take notice of through the large windows. several paintings adorn the walls — you didn’t know he was a lover of art — as well as some photos of him with his family.

the room is surprisingly tidy, his clothes all neatly folded on the wooden planks in his closet and the drawers underneath. the few books he has sitting on top of the cupboard are gathering dust — you suppose he doesn’t like to read all that much.

of course he doesn’t.

his king-sized bed seems soft and comfortable, and the room smells of the cologne and perfume he always wears.

you blink a few times, realizing you’re dwelling too much on details that are not a priority right now.

which is enough to snap you awake, a rush of adrenaline moving through your veins as you look for anything interesting. files, documents, notebooks — anything.

you find his agenda in a drawer of his desk. with slightly trembling fingers, you move the pages back to the date of your father’s death, as well as the days before that.

as you’re caught up with doing so, you momentarily forget the first rule of breaking into a forbidden space: never turn your back to a door when you should be watching it.

“you know, i’m starting to think you agreeing to be my date came with ulterior motives on your side.” you suddenly hear mingyu’s voice behind you, at which you turn around, looking a bit too guilty for comfort.

your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, but you keep your composure. “if it makes you feel any better, i didn’t plan this.”

“it’s alright.” he responds, closing the door behind him smoothly, as if he doesn’t want you to see it. “you still think i had something to do with your father’s death, don’t you?”

“i’m not sure. i don’t see why you would, now that you’ve given me the inheritance. what other motive could you have?”

all mingyu does is clench his jaw at the rhetorical question. then he snaps out of it, his eyes trailing to the desk you’re currently leaning on. he takes a few steps closer to you, and you raise a brow, waiting in anticipation what he’ll do.

his face is suddenly very close to yours, and you’re almost convinced he’s leaning in to touch you when he reaches for the drawer behind you instead. “well, as a matter of fact, i did have something to show you.”

that surprises you.

“your father always carried a little red notebook with him. it’s the only part of the inheritance i didn’t give you, solely because i wanted to show you myself. there’s a few strange scribblings in it, with locations and numbers, and look at this—” he opens it up in front of you, pointing at the paper with his index finger, “apparently he felt like he was being followed just days before he died. maybe the police is right and he did get murdered.”

“yeah, i already figured he probably pissed off the wrong guy.” when he looks at you hopefully, you shrug. “what?”

“we should check it out, right? find out who killed him.”

you immediately shake your head at his suggestion. “no.”

mingyu’s whole body language changes, genuine confusion overtaking his features. “what do you mean, no?”

“he was caught up in all kinds of shit, things i never wanted to be a part of. that’s no different now that he’s six feet under.”

“are you not the slightest bit curious who killed him?”

“frankly, no, i’m not. i’d say whoever is guilty did me a favor.”

despite your valid point, he persists. “okay, then how about this — what if this person would come after you for whatever reason? don’t you want to know who you’re dealing with?”

you narrow your eyes at him. “why do you care so much, mingyu? i’m sure this is something you could manage on your own.”

the sudden question surprises him, so he shrugs. “maybe i’m not sure why. but i do. and you know i did care for him.”

“why don’t you just let the police handle it?”

“because they don’t know this world — and we have access to places, people they wouldn’t even know where to find or how to deal with. have you talked to the detectives? they’re amateurs.” he answers, pausing before taking a step closer to you. “he’s dead either way, doing a small bit of research might be interesting. who knows what you might find.”

“and you wanna do this with me of all people because...?”

he rolls his eyes at the question. “you were the only other person directly affected by it. c’mon, am i really so bad that you can’t even deal with me for a little while?”

the fact that you just give him a deadpan stare tells him all he needs to know.

it makes you bite your lip. you don’t feel like doing this at all, certainly not with mingyu of all people, but he appears to be ready to do this with or without you.

besides, you do feel up for a little adventure.

“fine, i’ll bite. hypothetically, what if i were interested in finding out who killed him?”

the young man in front of you tilts his head. “then i’d suggest we work together and do some digging.”

pursing your lips, you watch his pleased expression when he notices you’re actually considering it. “why do i feel like i’m gonna regret this?”

“maybe you will. maybe you won’t. we can go right back to hating eachother after this, but for now, we’ll be partners. deal?”

your eyes linger on the hand he’s stretched out to you, and even as you’re hesitant to take it, he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

with a sigh, you shake his hand. “okay. deal.”

v. PARTNERS IN CRIME

“for someone so organized, he sure as hell has a lot of unnecessary shit lying around here.” mingyu mutters, searching through the drawers of the cupboard.

you scoff in agreement. “tell me about it.”

the two of you are rummaging through your father’s study in your home in an attempt to find anything interesting as to what he might’ve been up to the past few years.

so far, you’ve had zero luck with it.

you already figured there’d probably be nothing of interest here, but mingyu insisted, said it would be stupid not to. so here you are.

“you know, i’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be as stupid as to just leave traces of his criminal affiliations lying around in his study.”

mingyu shrugs while simultaneously looking into a drawer. “you never know.”

“he was an asshole, but he was a smart one.” you mumble to yourself as you go through the little notebook mingyu just handed you a few minutes ago.

he watches you with curiosity. “can i ask you something?”

without looking up at him, you give him a rather direct response. “i’m sure you’ll ask me regardless of my answer to that question.”

ever so indifferent, he thinks. if anything, one thing about you he is actually fond of is your unfiltered attitude. more people should be like that. “you said you’d never forgive me for what i did to you."

hearing those words makes you look up at him. you’re surprised he’s taking an approach this straightforward with you. “i know what i said.”

“is there nothing i can do to at least make things more civil between us?”

god, you’re sick of him already.

instead of outright telling him you hate him more than anyone else you know, you cross your arms over your chest and fire a question right back at him. “why do you want things to be different between us? don’t tell me you’re losing sleep over it, now.”

mingyu pauses a moment before he answers you. “i thought about the things you said, when you were upset with me, and i realized i’ve made your life harder without having intended to do so. and yeah, i am losing sleep over it.”

while he does appear earnest, you don’t exactly trust him, so all you do is shrug your shoulders.

he wants to say something right when his phone rings. once he picks up, you figure it must be something business-related, judging by the tone of his voice and formal language.

an apology directed at you leaves his mouth as soon as he’s hit the red button on his screen. “i’m sorry. an important business meeting was moved and i promised my mom i’d be there.”

you’ve met mingyu’s mother a few times, at events. she’s the ceo of a very prominent hotel business. many of the highest ranked hotels around the world are under her care, and she clearly knows what she’s doing, since her business has been thriving for many years at this point. you remember it was her who took over as ceo after mingyu’s father passed in a car accident when he was younger.

“then you better get going.” you tell him, your face not pulling a single muscle. you hope he didn’t think you were going to ask him to stay.

he nods at your words, taking the jacket with his initials embroidered in the tag and slinging it over his arm. “yeah. i’ll call you.” he says, going out the doorway, yet your voice makes him halt in his tracks.

“mingyu.” you say his name to him, an unfamiliar feeling on your tongue, and he turns to look back at you.

he awaits your words, catching the subtle warning in your eyes as you refer back to the question of his you had yet to answer.

“we may be working together now — call us associates, or even partners in crime — but once this is over, we’ll go right back to strangers. let’s just keep this… somewhat professional.”

you find he can be surprisingly hard to read from time to time, for a guy who wears his heart on his sleeve. after blankly staring at you for a few seconds, processing the words, he just offers you a little smile and a gentle response. “okay.”

and he walks off, only leaving you more intrigued than before.

for two days, it’s complete radio silence from mingyu. all he asked you over text was if you’d been able to find anything in the study, to which you replied with a simple no. he didn’t say anything else.

you sincerely thought this whole investigation of yours wasn’t actually gonna lead to anything, that it was useless — until now.

it’s eleven o’clock, dark outside, the metronome ticking in the background of your living room as your eyes are glued to the screen of your laptop.

you just got a notification from the bank that someone made a significant withdrawal from one of your father’s bank accounts, one that still needs to be signed over to your name.

question is, who the fuck has access to your father’s bank account besides you?

no one. supposedly.

staring at mingyu’s contact in your phone, you twist your lips, unsure of whether to call him about this or not.

going against your gut, you press on his phone number and wait for him to answer the call.

nothing.

for good measure, you call him a second time. same result.

then it hits you. you spoke to wonwoo last night — he mentioned something about him and mingyu going out together this evening.

wonwoo, thankfully, does pick up his phone. “hey. what’s up?”

“hey. are you with mingyu right now?”

“yeah, why?”

“where are you?”

“uh—” he stutters out an address in the middle of the city, clearly confused by the urgency in your voice. “what’s going on? what do you need mingyu for?”

“well, it’s hard to explain. anyway, i’m coming over.”

“he’s kind of—”

you quickly interrupt him by hanging up. taking your wallet and car keys, you head out. the address wonwoo’s given you is located in the club scene downtown, and you make it there in no-time with the navigation on your phone.

parking your car across the block, you get out and check your phone, heading to wherever wonwoo and mingyu currently are. you usually tend to go for the clubs at the other side of the city, as the vibe feels a little different here, but you’ve been around the neighborhood a couple times, so it’s not entirely unfamiliar to you.

when you arrive at the club, you catch the sight of your friend leaning against the stone wall outside.

jeon wonwoo, all handsome in his expensive jacket and sleek shoes, looks surprised when he notices you of all people coming up to him, even though you told him you were coming. his voice is soft when he greets you. “hey. you gonna tell me what exactly you’re doing here?”

shrugging your shoulders, you put your hands in the pockets of your black coat. “you said you were here with mingyu. i gotta talk to him.”

“right now?”

taking note of his baffled reaction, you tilt your head to the side. “yes, right now. i don’t care if he’s occupied.”

wonwoo brings a cigarette to his lips, pushing the pair of dark-rimmed glasses higher up his nose. “what’s going on with you and him, anyway? i thought you hated each other.”

“we still do.”

“well, something’s changed.”

“believe me, wonwoo, i don’t like him any more than he likes me.”

all he does is narrow his dark eyes at you.

just when you want to open the backdoor to the club, wonwoo stops you. “you do know what kind of establishment this place is, right?”

frowning at him, you open the door just the slightest bit to check whatever he’s getting at, and once you catch sight of the pink and red lights, sensual music and metal poles attached to the ceiling, you momentarily close the door again.

right. this must be one of those clubs that are hidden from the prying eyes of non-customers, to give the illusion there’s nothing going on behind these walls, giving the rich clients some privacy in their activities.

you roll your eyes. “when you said you were going to the club, i didn’t think you meant a strip club.”

“i was about to tell you when you hung up on me.”

“so why are you out here and not in there with him?”

“because i wanted to smoke and he felt like heading into a more secluded space. with company, no doubt.”

oh, this is gonna be fun. since kim mingyu pretty much ruined your life, the very least you can do in return is ruin his night. you briefly chuckle to yourself. “alright. well, have fun smoking.”

“you’re still going in?” he calls after you, and all you can do is scoff.

“you think i care whether kim mingyu’s gonna have a good time or not?”

“forget i asked.” he responds, the hint of a smile tugging at his facial features. “i’ll wait here ‘til you get back.”

you shoot him a knowing smirk before stepping into the club. remaining in the background, you scan the area to see if there’s a glimpse of him somewhere.

at the other side of the bar, a man seems to be on watch in front of a separate hallway, so you figure that’s where the jackpot is.

not bothering to look back at the bartender, whose gaze trails after you, you head over to where you need to be, which is where you’re stopped in your path, as expected.

“these are occupied private rooms, ma’am.” a bouncer tells you.

“look, sir, i…” you begin, coming up with some bullshit excuse to get past him, “i’m pretty sure i saw my boyfriend just go in here with a dancer. all i want is a confirmation, i’m not looking to start drama.”

before the man can respond, you wordlessly hold up a small stack of hundred dollar bills between your index and middle finger, waiting for him to take the bribe.

works like a charm wherever you go.

his demeanor changes once he sees the money. “what’s he look like?”

“tall, dark medium-long hair, brown eyes, pretty handsome — though that’s probably subjective.” you shrug, adding a little fake smile to it. you can get far in life with a little charm and money.

the few generic features seem to be enough for the bouncer to know who you’re talking about. he takes the money from your hand, pointing his finger at one of the more secluded rooms in the back.

“go for room number six.” he says, stepping to the side so you can pass him.

thanking him, you head into the back, the heels of your ankle boots clicking against the floor.

the rooms have their matching numbers on neon signs above them. your eyes curiously take in everything they see, but all rooms grant the people in them privacy with the use of frosted glass.

once you’ve made it to the room with the number six on the sign, you take a breath while your hand rests on the handle.

you enter the room soundlessly. the broad space is dimly lit with its soft lights, a mixture of yellow, pink and red almost convincing you that this place is a mere fever dream.

mingyu is seated on the velvet red couch, his legs spread with a girl in skimpy lingerie dancing between them.

yet his eyes are on you.

with his head tilted down, he looks up at you from beneath his lowered brows, peering right past the bare hips of the girl as if she’s not dancing in front of him at all.

you catch a hint of intrigue in his features. he reaches inside his pocket to hand a small stack of money to the dancer in the exact same way you did with the bouncer only a minute before, and the girl leaves you to your privacy.

“hello to you, too.” he says, not bothering to move a single muscle as he remains on the soft couch.

“next time, answer your damn phone.” you scold him, staring him down with the coldest glare you can muster, and mingyu’s not sure why, but he relishes in it. it doesn’t happen often that someone treats him like this.

“i was occupied.” he casually answers, his hand running through his dark locks.

“well, not anymore.” you grin, handing him your phone to show the photo of the bank transcripts. “apparently, my dead father just took fifty grand out of his account.”

mingyu furrows his brows at the screen. “where?”

“all the way at the other side of the city. question is, who else has access to his account, aside from me?”

“we should go and check the footage.” he says, shrugging his shoulders, and he finally gets up, towering over you again. “i know someone who’s with the municipal authorities, i’ll make the call.”

“right now?” you ask, referring to how deep into the night it is, at which he raises his brow.

“yes, right now. this is the best clue we’ve come across so far. don’t you agree?”

“i do. i just thought you cared more about, y’know, being occupied.” you emphasise the last words with a waving hand, gesturing to the girl that was previously dancing on him, and his flirtatious nature comes right back to him as if it never left.

“why? wanna give me a show before we leave?” he smirks, getting closer, hoping to get some kind of reaction out of you, to see what’s lurking underneath your closed-off persona.

fine. both of you can play this game, you think to yourself. “what, are the girls here not enough to get you off?”

“is that a yes?”

“why would you want a lap dance from a girl you can’t stand? i may not like you, mingyu, but i didn’t think you’d stoop so low to go after any woman with a pulse.”

“i feel flattered,” he smiles, eyes trailing down to your exposed collarbones, finding it ridiculously hot in here, “and i don’t particularly like you, either, but we both know you’re gorgeous. besides, i’ve seen you dance at chan’s club. you looked good.”

his honesty almost stuns you in your place. you didn’t think he held that kind of physical attraction towards you, yet it makes you feel good — because you think he’s fucking hot, too.

such a shame that he’s an asshole.

but still, there’s no time to dwell on his words. you have a reputation to uphold and a murder to solve, after all.

so you lean in, whispering your decision. “in your dreams.”

jesus, mingyu thinks, do you even remotely know how much sex appeal you have? it makes him beyond impulsive. “did you know studies have shown that sleeping with someone you can’t stand is arguably the best thing ever?”

you sarcastically reply to him with the exact same tone. “did you know you’d be so much more bearable if you just kept your mouth shut?”

“what? it’s part of my charm.” is all he says in return, snickering a little over your response, and you merely roll your eyes.

“we’ve got a different idea of charm, then.”

“okay, fair enough.” he shrugs, still maintaining the minimal distance between your bodies. “so what do you find charming? i’m dying to know, really.”

“i like men who don’t feel the need to pay for a woman’s touch.” the reply comes fast and sharp as a blade. “i hope you pay them generously, since they have to put up with you out of all people.”

“she didn’t touch me, though. it’s a strip club, not a brothel.”

“how noble of you.” you humorlessly chuckle at him, attitude turning more playful.

“mhm.” mingyu nods his head, the rest of his words sounding lower and suave. “tell me more. c’mon, i’m curious. i gotta know my partner’s preferences, right?”

the look you give your current partner is something. you decide to indulge him this once, face inching closer to his, just to keep things interesting. “i want someone who won’t hold me back. someone who will accept me for who i am — uninhibited.”

there’s something you can’t quite place flashing behind his eyes. it’s close to intrigue, but more intense, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen it in anyone else’s eyes before.

“good to know.” he breathes out, as if your words stole his breath, and you come to the realization that maybe, there’s more to kim mingyu than you thought.

now that he seems to be pretty much speechless, you raise your shoulders. “so, are we heading out or should i tell the dancer to come back in?”

he stutters out a reply, and you find it funny how his attitude is constantly going back and forth between a flustered mess and the most confident guy in the room.

once you’ve returned to the backdoor where you got in, you see wonwoo is still outside, his cigarette put out on the ashtray beside him.

“you leaving?” wonwoo asks, waiting for either of you to answer.

“yeah. duty calls.” mingyu replies while putting his jacket on.

for what it’s worth, wonwoo is actually a dear friend of yours, and one of the few people you show physical affection to, so you give him a kiss on the cheek before walking off. “catch you later, okay?”

he nods, catching mingyu curiously watching the exchange, and when you walk off with him, wonwoo notices him put his hand on your lower back, which you proceed to swat away.

a mere twenty minutes later, you and mingyu are seated in your car in an empty parking lot, looking at a screen displaying street security footage of the bank where the withdrawal was made earlier tonight.

mingyu’s friend seungkwan, who works for the authorities, sent you the footage, and as you’re looking it over, he’s on the phone explaining his observations. “he was wearing a mask and a cap, so we couldn’t recognize him. the car he drove has a license plate that doesn’t match, so likely stolen. he drove from a nearby parking garage to the bank, withdrew the cash, got back in the car and then parked it right here, about six blocks further, in the business district.”

the building the car is parked across is one you’d recognize any time of day. it’s where your father’s main office is — or was — one of the places he never allowed you to get into, or anyone for that matter. it was the only place where he got the peace and quiet he wanted.

you turn your head to glance at mingyu, giving him a knowing look. “that’s where my father’s main office is.”

“you think the guy’s gonna try to break in?”

“if he got his hands on the passcodes and proceeds to wait before the building he always worked in, then yeah, i do.”

you nod in agreement, because he makes a fair point. mingyu looks at the worried expression on your face and decides you’ve gathered enough information now.

he thanks seungkwan and tells him bye before hanging up, then turning his focus to you. “whoever that guy is, if he’s planning on breaking in, we gotta beat him to it.”

“you wanna break into an office on the seventh floor located in a building that neither of us are allowed into? they won’t even let us pass the front desk. i know because i’ve tried.”

he shakes his head. “trust me — we’ll find a way in. i’ve got an idea, but it’s not gonna be easy.”

vi. WE’RE NOT SO DIFFERENT, YOU AND I

the following days are spent analyzing and memorizing blueprints, tracking the people entering and exiting the building and checking security in the hope of finding some kind of loophole in the system.

trying to get in through the front door is too risky, so you’ve opted for the roof instead, because there’s several buildings so closeby that you can get into either of the buildings next to it and reach it from there. you’ll get in with a classic heist movie tactic you pray works in real life as well.

ventilation shafts.

so now, you’re both in dark and practical clothing to attempt breaking in. because your plan is mediocre at best.

as you watch from the rooftop of a currently unoccupied office building nearby with a binocular, you face-palm yourself the moment you notice the security set-up is different than anticipated with the blueprints, meaning the ventilation shafts are most likely not accessible. “well, fuck.”

“what’s wrong?”

you hand the binocular to mingyu, and he mimics your previous actions, huffing in annoyance when he sees it too. “shit. what do we do now?”

“nothing.”

“what?”

“our plan was already risky enough, but now that we pretty much don’t even have a way in, we’d be stupid to try. we only have a fifteen-minute window before a security guard comes up the roof again.”

“that’s plenty.”

“it would be, for like — a swat team. we’re amateurs. at this, anyway.”

“speak for yourself.”

“oh, i’m sorry, have you done anything remotely on this scale before?”

“well… no.”

pinching the bridge of your nose, you roll your eyes to yourself. “we should’ve brought wonwoo.”

mingyu is quick to respond with a sarcastic comment. “and tell him what, exactly? ‘hey, we need your help breaking into one of the best-guarded buildings in the city so we can snoop around and try to find a clue leading to a killer’?”

“well, i don’t know if you’ve noticed, gyu, but we quite literally have no other options.”

“we could always try the front door. you’re still his daughter, they might let you in.”

“i really hope that wasn’t an actual suggestion, because if it was, it would highly diminish the idea i have of your intelligence.”

“is this your way of telling me you think i’m smart?”

“well, currently, i think you’re being an idiot, so no.” you retort, stealing the binocular out of his hand again. “god, i’m starting to respect criminals. this shit is difficult to navigate around.”

mingyu chuckles as he adjusts the black baseball cap on his head. “there has to be another way. maybe we could—”

“—get in through an open window.” you interrupt, handing the device over to him. “you see the glass window in the roof of his office? it looks like it’s ajar.”

once he sees it too, he tilts his head. “it’s almost too easy. it’d have to open manually, otherwise we’re screwed.”

you can only shrug. “it’s only a modern interior on the inside, the building itself is older, so the odds might be on our side. besides, it’s worth a shot, right?”

“can’t argue with that.” he agrees, checking the other buildings around to figure out the best approach.

you watch him as he’s distracted. he’s fully going for the whole partners-in-crime thing you’ve got going on with him, yet a part of you is still unsure what his motives might be.

but for now, you’ll just focus on the task at hand.

every fifteen minutes, a security guard comes up to the roof, checks everything, stays for a minute or two and leaves again. you’ve been keeping track of it. as soon as the one currently on duty closes the door to the staircase behind him, heading back down, you both start a silent timer on your watches, getting to work.

one thing you discover doing said task is that jumping from roof to roof is really not as easy as they make it seem in the movies. if anything, it’s pretty scary, even if they are relatively close to eachother.

the jump from the last building to the one you need to be on top of has the biggest gap, and mingyu takes a solid leap, landing ever so gracefully.

you shuffle your feet for a moment, making the mistake of looking down. mingyu notices your hesitation and tries to encourage you the best he can. “it looks scary, but it’s a relatively easy jump. i swear. that’s gotta mean something coming from a person with a fear of heights.”

clenching your fists, you try to steady your breathing. “don’t you lie to me, kim.”

there’s something strangely charming about you using his last name whenever you’re scolding him. “c’mon. i’ve always thought you were fearless. you’re not gonna diminish the idea i have of you, right?”

curse him for using your words against you like that.

clenching your fists, you bite your lip, the worst case scenario going through your head over and over.

“just go back a couple steps. steady your breathing, and then you run. okay?”

you don’t respond to his words but do as he says anyways. the jump isn’t even that far, you’re just afraid of tripping.

but you won’t go out embarrassing yourself in front of kim mingyu. your pride is too strong for that.

so you take a deep breath and make a run for it, jumping over the gap and landing on top of the other roof, far away from the edge. mingyu laughs triumphantly. “good job.”

“thanks.” you smile as he helps you up to your feet, and you dust off your jacket, proud of yourself for going through with it.

the two of you walk over to the glass window, and you kneel down, inspecting the lock. thank fuck — it’s so simple that all you have to do is click it open. you’re guessing they probably thought the security walking around was enough.

with your hands covered in gloves, you wiggle them through the gap and crack it open, after which mingyu takes the lead. he lets himself drop into the office silently, looking up at you as a gesture for you to follow him.

you attempt to do the same as him, but you figure he must have strong arm muscles, because you’re barely able to hold yourself up the way he can. he notices your struggle and moves to stand underneath you.

“just let go. i’ll catch you.”

“are you sure?”

he nods, his arms up as if he’s waiting for you to jump right into them. “yeah, yeah. i got you.”

not entirely convinced, you try to drop onto the floor in a way you can still hold yourself up, but mingyu proves himself true to his word when he catches you as easily as drawing his next breath. he looks you in the eye while he has you in his arms, his senses feeling heightened as your clothed skin touches with his.

then you tap on his shoulder, and he lets go of you.

the office is bigger than anticipated. the moonlight from outside is bright enough for you to not need a flashlight, so that’s beneficial.

mingyu is awfully quick on his feet for someone as tall and bulky as him. he’s quiet in every step he takes, which is useful in a situation like this.

while he begins to look through a bunch of drawers, you open cabinet after cabinet, going through some documents that don’t really contain anything interesting.

you turn to look at the desk and the painting on the wall behind it. it’s nothing spectacular — your father never had much of an appreciation for art, so you find it strange he’d even have it up here.

out of sheer curiosity, you try to check if there’s a secret stash behind the painting like in those crime movies.

you have to refrain from laughing when your eyes fall onto the safe in the wall. “hey. gyu.”

he turns around, his entire demeanor changing when he sees what you’ve found. “you’re kidding.”

the safe has a surprisingly easy system. it has four dials, so you need a code with four numbers to get access to whatever’s inside. you change the dials to your birth year for fun, but naturally, it doesn’t work. hell, mingyu’s birth year might have a better shot.

while you try out every combination you can think of, mingyu gets the little notebook out of his pocket — the one that was part of your father’s inheritance. he flips to one of the last pages. “try 9-3-6-8.”

going with his suggestion, you rotate the dials until they have the right numbers, and you hear a click. blinking a few times, you turn the small crank wheel beside the dials and open the safe.

there’s not much inside in terms of quantity, but the things that are in there are no joke.

two gold ingots, a stack of files and a loaded handgun with a silencer attached to it.

“what the fuck was he up to?” mingyu asks rhetorically, inspecting the pistol with care, and you shrug, grabbing the files to put them into the bag you took with you.

“i don’t know, but we should hurry up. we can look at whatever all this is later. clock’s ticking.”

he figures you make a good point, so you hold out your bag, and he puts all of the safe’s contents into it.

you’re both scared to death when you suddenly hear voices coming from the other side of the door. you immediately zip up your bag and close the safe back up, putting the painting right back in front of it.

footsteps come approaching your direction, and you realize you don’t have enough time to get back out of the office without being caught red-handed, so you’ll have to find a place to hide.

just as you’re about to go sit underneath the desk, mingyu doesn’t hesitate to grab you by your hand and pull you against his body, both of you hiding in the small gap between the bookcase and the wall, which is right next to the door.

you almost jump in your place when the door is opened by a security guard, and mingyu puts his hand over your mouth to make sure the guard doesn’t hear you.

thankfully, you’re hidden right behind the door now that it’s opened, but your heart is fucking pounding as your chest is pressed against mingyu’s, and all you can focus on is him.

he’s suffocatingly close to you.

the situation forces you to look at him so closely — like never before. your attention trails down from his dark eyes to the litte mole on the bottom of his nose, the shape of his lips, and the glimpse you catch of the silver chain adorning his collarbones.

it’s the first time you see how big of a man he is. he’s been working out a lot in the past few years, with considerable results — standing this close to him highlights the contrast between his frame and yours.

the footsteps leave the office not long after, and the door closes. you’re finally able to breathe properly when he releases his palm from your mouth, and you inhale and exhale deeply.

“you alright?”

“yeah. that was just — scary.” you respond, cracking a little smile.

he nods, neither of you really moving in your places yet. “you can let go of me, y’know.” mingyu whispers, sounding entirely unconvincing, and you frown before looking to your hand that’s apparently been clutching his jacket this whole time.

“oh, yeah. sorry.”

“it’s okay.” he assures you, pointing to the ceiling. “we should probably head back.”

you agree and sling the bag over your shoulders, on your back. he gets onto the desk first so he can climb out the same window you used to get in, and once he’s gotten up the roof again, he extends his hand to you so he can pull you up.

it doesn’t go smoothly. he’s a little clumsy, but he manages, so you take a breather once you’ve made it out of the office with him. you close the window in the exact position it was before you opened it, and you make it to the safety of the rooftop where you started just twenty minutes ago.

as you quickly go down the stairs of the abandoned building to reach the ground floor, he laughs triumphantly. “holy fucking shit. i can’t believe we actually pulled that off.”

you smile at him with adrenaline still rushing through you, heart still pounding in your chest when you realize what you just did.

and honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever felt that… alive.

a mere fifteen minutes later, you’re seated in a half-empty diner with him. he’s across from you in the booth, elbows on the table as he fiddles with his fingers.

while he looks around the place, you take the files you found in the safe out of your bag so you can look them over.

as your eyes fall onto the first page, you frown.

mingyu notices your gaze. “what’s wrong?”

you switch to the other file folders before scoffing to yourself, realization hitting you. “you gotta be fucking kidding me. they’re tabs he kept on the people around him. the staff at home, his driver... even me. and you. well, looks like he didn’t trust you completely.”

before he can even reply to the subtle dig, you slide the folder with his name on it across the table, and he opens it up, noticing a huge chunk of information on him neatly stashed away in separate documents. there’s even candids there that must’ve been made by a private investigator.

“i knew he was paranoid, but this takes the cake.” you mutter, and you throw the folders back into your bag, and mingyu hands you his so you can take it as well.

“well, this sucks.” he sighs. “those files aren’t of much use, so now we’re back to square one.”

you tilt your head. “that’s not entirely true. we might be able to check where the gun came from, or whose name it’s registered under.”

mingyu hums, lifting the cup to his mouth, whispering a compliment, not really expecting for you to hear it. “smart girl.”

with your bag zipped up and everything off the table again, it’s quiet between you and mingyu for a moment.

“god, i’m starving.” he says as you wait for your food to arrive, and where he’s slightly fidgeting in his place, you sit completely still, looking at him with a frown. once he catches your gaze, he raises a brow at you. “what?”

“do you do this often?”

“eating in a cheap diner?”

“trespassing. breaking in. illegal activities. whatever you wanna call it.”

he shrugs. “occasionally. keeps life interesting, y’know?”

the casualness in his attitude makes you scoff. “sure.”

“you don’t agree?”

“i didn’t say that.”

“no, but then again, you don’t really say much at all.” he says bluntly. he doesn’t mean it as an offensive statement in the slightest, but it would’ve probably sounded better if worded differently.

for a moment, he thinks his impulsivity must’ve upset you, seeing as you remain silent for a moment.

then you laugh at him. the sound is completely new to him, yet strangely soothing to his ears.

“you’re bold, i’ll give you that.” you snicker before taking a sip of your coke. “but i assume you don’t have an issue with people who are on the quieter side, since you’re besties with wonwoo and all.”

mingyu mimics your facial expressions. “yeah, i prefer being around quieter people more. but i didn’t—it came out wrong. i meant, you don’t really, like... show who you are. if that makes sense. even back when we were in high school, you were like a mystery. you still are, to me.”

“is this what this whole partnering-up thing is about? you wanting to unravel the mystery about me? because if it is, i’ll give you credit for the creativity.”

mingyu tilts his head. “well, it’s a little more nuanced than that.”

“if you wanted to get to know me, why didn’t you try years ago?”

“have you met you?”

you roll your eyes. he smirks at you, enjoying your company quite a lot, anticipating whatever it is you’ll say in response.

“you wanna know something, mingyu?”

“yeah.”

“you’re telling me i’m the mysterious one, but i’d say that’s you.”

his playfulness falters a bit, and he shows his confusion instead. “me?”

“mhm. you’re popular, good-looking, charming, all of that — and i think you’ve got layers to yourself that no one even knows about. characteristics no one would ever dare imagine when they think of you.”

his breath hitches in his throat. “why do you think that?”

twisting your lips into a pout, you put your drink back down on the table. “wouldn’t be any fun if i outright told you, would it?”

mingyu narrows his eyes at you. you just shrug, as if to tell him he’ll figure it out, if he’s smart enough.

and he welcomes the challenge.

“okay.” he smiles, biting his lip when he leans back in his seat. “but, hypothetically — what if you’re wrong about me? what if i don’t have those layers you’re talking about?”

you eye him up and down, remaining quiet with your arms crossed over your chest. you’ve always had that attitude. like you know more than everyone else, as if you’re the smartest person in the room. usually, you are. and yet you’re never smug about it, unless someone challenges you to be — you’re always calm, cool, collected. stoic. the fact that wonwoo of all people called you an ice princess years ago says enough.

“i’d be sorely disappointed.”

“so you have high expectations of me?”

“in a way, perhaps. though you’ll have to work a little harder to impress me.”

“tonight wasn’t enough?”

“it was a start. we still loathe eachother, remember?”

“right. i’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

sure, you and kim mingyu hate one another, but he still makes you smile the most anyone has in ages, and you make him feel more alive than anyone else has.

vii. FRIENDS CLOSE, ENEMIES CLOSER

“i’ve got bad news.” you say, tapping your nails on the coffee table in your living room as you have mingyu on speaker.

“okay. do tell.”

“the gun isn’t registered, so we pretty much only have the files as evidence.”

“yeah. i doubt your father put those files together himself, since they seem like the work of a professional. we might be smart to seek out the private investigator who gave him the intel.”

you know he hears you sigh at the other end of the line, and your response hardly sound convincing. “yeah, i guess.”

“what’s wrong?”

it’s quiet for a moment. you speak up with a tension rumbling in your chest. “maybe we should just quit, gyu. i don’t feel like what we’re doing is actually going anywhere. we still don’t have a proper lead.”

then it’s his turn to remain silent, and you swear you can hear his breath shudder. “we’ll get there. it just... takes some time.”

“you sound a little too sure of that.”

“i just think it’d be a waste to not continue after the stunt we pulled last week.”

“what’re we gonna be doing next? breaking into the national bank?”

“something tells me you’d find that exciting.”

well, shit. have you become so transparent that kim mingyu of all people can tell the truth about you?

“maybe i would.” you grumble like a child admitting defeat.

the sound of his laughter echoes through the phone. it subconsciously brings a small smile to your face.

“look, i have a meeting ‘til five. i can come by after to brainstorm about things, pick up some food on the way. are you free tonight?”

“yeah. text me when you’re on the way here.”

“yes, ma’am.” he jests, saying he’s got to go before hanging up. it leaves you to stare at your phone for a minute. a past version of yourself would never believe it if you said mingyu would ever get close to you in the way he has over the past two months. it’s been a strange time. it’s come to the point you’re pretty sure you don’t even hate him as much as you used to.

maybe you don’t even hate him at all anymore. maybe.

but something about admitting that to yourself feels scary, so you put your thoughts elsewhere while secretly looking forward to having him come over again.

it’s a quarter past five when he sends you a message, letting you know he’s picked up the food and on the way to your house, and a mere twenty minutes later, you and him are seated in the lounge on the first floor as he tells you about his day – all while shoving a dumpling into his mouth.

what interrupts you, however, is the noise of your doorbell. mingyu frowns instantly, and you mimic his expression, because you weren’t expecting any more company. “who’s that?”

“no idea.” you shrug, so you get up from your seat, jogging down the stairs with mingyu following you, simultaneously chewing the food in his mouth.

checking the screen beside the door that’s connected to the doorbell, you notice a familiar face standing outside.

“isn’t he the main detective on the investigation?” mingyu asks rhetorically, his body language changing to something more stiff. “what is he doing here?”

“good question. i certainly didn’t invite him, but the guy at the front gate probably told him i was home. fuck — you have to hide.”

“hide? why?”

because the detective thinks you still hate mingyu, so seeing him here would make your story hardly plausible. “because he can’t see you, obviously. get upstairs and stay there. i’ll distract him.” 

“are you sure?”

“yeah, so go!” you push him back with your hands on his chest, and he seems hesitant to leave you by yourself, but he eventually jogs up the stairs again to get out of sight.

the inspector smiles only as a formality. you do the same. you haven’t spoken to him since you indirectly accused him of being an asshole, a while before your father’s funeral.

“good evening. i hope i haven’t come at a bad time. may i come in?”

“i have to take a business call soon, actually, so another time would be—”

“i won’t be long. i assume you’d like to have an update on the investigation?”

well, fuck. he’s got you there, so you’re forced to let him in, but you don’t let him wonder and gesture for him to sit down in the living room, on the couch. you move to take the seat directly across from him to ensure his focus is on you, instead of on the huge staircase behind him.

“am i still at the top of your list?” you ask. when the man tries to find the right words to respond, you scoff, filling in the blanks. of course you still are. “but you have no evidence.” 

“it’s not about evidence — moreso the lack thereof. i’m stuck with two people who each have a solid motive, an alibi that’s far from foolproof, and an important tie to the victim. you cannot deny that.” 

“is this another interrogation? because this is all off-record.”

“not an interrogation. i was just wondering something – back when i spoke to you last, before your father’s funeral, i asked what you could tell me about kim mingyu, your father’s former associate.” hearing him say his name makes you anxious, yet you pull every possible muscle to hide it. “you spoke of him as if he were the devil himself. you clearly hated him, perhaps more than you hated your father.”

“and?”

he pulls something from the inside of his jacket, and you discover they’re a few candids, photos taken of you with mingyu while out in the city. well, that’s just fucking great. you’re gonna have to make use of your top-notch acting skills here.

“i’m sure you wouldn’t mind me asking why you’re suddenly seeing someone you claim to hate as much as you do.”

the blankness of your face dissolves as you adapt a more playful and sassy persona. “you came all the way to my home for this? a few photos?”

“a few photos of my two main suspects together for a reason i cannot think of, yes.”

“you can’t think of a single thing? really? no offense, but i was under the impression you were at least a little clever.”

the man stares at you as if he’s trying to solve a puzzle. that can only mean one thing – he’s falling for your act.

what an idiot.

you lean forward in your place, the dry smile remaining on your face. “i fucked him. several times, actually.”

he narrows his eyes at your statement. “i thought you told me you hated him.”

“oh, i do. but a good hate-fuck is the best way to release some frustration. you should try it sometime.” the sound of your voice is monotonous as you utter the words in one go.

“i’ll keep it in mind.” he sarcastically responds with a fake smile, and you copy his body language, pleased to see you’ve made him somewhat uncomfortable.

he clearly wants to change the subject, but you don’t feel like continuing this conversation any longer. “if you’ll excuse me, i really have more pressing matters, so i trust you can see yourself out.”

the inspector huffs a bit, but he knows better than to overstay his welcome. he wordlessly allows you to let you walk him to the door before turning around. “i hope you know who you’re dealing with. not everyone is who they say they are.”

leaving you confused, he looks at you a moment, proceeding to walk out your front door, after which you close it. did he know more than he was willing to let on? what a strange visit.

when you finally decide to turn around, you see mingyu standing in the middle of the stairs, looking a little baffled, at which you roll your eyes.

“why would you tell him that?”

“would you have preferred it if i told him the truth?”

“would that be so bad?”

you scoff, passing him on the staircase. “see, this is what i mean when i say you’re not as smart as you think you are.”

mingyu follows you back up to the lounge. “i’m just saying — maybe it’d make us look less suspicious.”

“it’d do the opposite, gyu. trust me.”

“okay. fine. but out of all the things you could’ve said, why that?”

“well, it made him uncomfortable, making it easier to get him to leave early. and, well… you know what you look like.”

the last sentence really grabs his attention.

“what i look like?” he repeats, knowing damn well what you’re getting at, but he’s eager to hear you spell it out for him.

“well, you’re somewhat good-looking. it’s one of your few strong points, actually.”

“so you think i’m hot?”

“didn’t quite say that.”

“no, but you implied it.”

“not really. you may be conventionally handsome, gyu, but attraction is a whole different thing.”

“oh, c’mon. admit it. i’m willing to, so…”

“do i need to remind you i said we’d keep things professional? which you agreed to.”

“god, you’re so tough.”

“part of my charm. maybe that’s why you like me so much.”

“i never said i liked you.”

“no, you didn’t have to.” you scoff, laughing at him, and mingyu feels the corners of his lips curling up — because you’re right.

then, as you plop down on the seats in the lounge again, you sigh as you look at the papers scattered across the table.

“you know, it’s been weeks, and we still haven’t got the slightest clue who’s the killer,” you frown, fingers resting on your collarbone, “and if i’m being honest, i doubt we ever will.”

mingyu briefly narrows his eyes at you, proceeding to take his laptop out of his bag. you watch curiously when he silently types away at his keyboard, then turning the device around and clicking on the play button.

suddenly you hear your own voice, and the words — you said those during the interrogations. how the hell did he get his hands on those recordings?

he seems to be able to read your mind. “i’ve got a contact in the force. he sent me the sorted files of everyone who was interrogated. we should probably listen to them, right? after all, we know more about the situation than the detectives.”

blinking a few times, you shrug and nod in agreement, so he increases the volume and presses the button again.

the following two and a half hours are spent listening to the recordings and taking notes of important things. you’re only halfway through them, but doing this the whole time really sucks you dry of energy.

at a certain point, you press the pause button and get up from your seat, moving to the liquor cabinet a few meters away. “you like a good whiskey, right?”

“yeah. how’d you know?”

“i observe and listen. that, and i heard you say it to wonwoo one time.”

he chuckles at your words, watching you take the bottle with two glasses and set it down on the table.

once you’ve poured the liquid into the glass, he takes what you offer him and down it in one go, after which you give him a judgemental stare. “seriously?”

“sorry. had a rough day.”

your gaze softens, and you pour him a second glass as he holds it out. “why?”

“i just… haven’t been feeling great lately. not really sure why.”

well, that’s interesting. “your conscience eating away at you?”

his eyes widen an uncharacteristical amount, and your face is blank for a few moments until you crack a smile. he laughs it off, squeezing his hands together, which you take notice of.

“guess you could say that. no, i don’t know. my sister’s been stressed and she won’t tell me why, which is odd ‘cause she always comes to me — and my mother’s been overworking herself, and i’m worried for her.”

pursing your lips together, you cast your eyes down for a moment.

for some reason, you feel a sense of repulsiveness whenever mingyu speaks of his family like that. as if it’s a reminder of what you didn’t have.

but you don’t show it.

“sounds tough.” you reply, not intending to sound distant — you just find it difficult to know what to say.

what you fail to recognize is that mingyu sees it. he sees your struggle and the emotions you think are so deeply hidden underneath the surface. they actually are, to be honest, but he’s come to know you and with that the way you hold yourself. and he’s suddenly able to read you better.

you’re made of sharp edges only — broken glass on all sides.

he takes another sip of his drink. you down yours in one go.

“can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

mingyu’s eyes curiously follow your every move, the alcohol in his system making him bolder. “how are you holding up?”

“me? ‘m fine. why do you ask?”

“i think mostly ‘cause i’ve asked you a lot of questions, but not that one.”

the words make you silent for a moment, and you let out a knowing sigh when you realize what he’s getting at. “i told you i was glad he died, gyu.”

“i know. but even if you are, you can still find it difficult to deal with.”

you inhale and exhale slowly, leaning back against the wall for a moment, staring into nothing. “i’m not sad that he’s gone. i never will be. but there’s things i wanted to ask him.”

when you don’t continue, he asks you to. “what things?”

“things about my youth, my mother… hell, maybe even about you.” you shrug, chuckling for a brief moment, but the sound is gone as soon as it came. “but i think, mostly, i’d ask if he saw himself in me.”

mingyu is intrigued by your answer. “why would you wanna know that?”

you shrug, your tiredness contributing to you opening up. “because maybe i’d hear the answer i want to hear, and not the one i currently have. my worst nightmare has always been to turn into him.”

“you won’t be like him.” he tries to tell you, but you shake your head.

“i already am. i hated him to the bone, and yet i act like him, sound like him, handle things like him — because he taught me everything i know. at the end of the day, i am my father’s daughter. there’s no changing that.”

“you’re not a bad person. he was.”

“how would you know? he was nice to you. stand-offish, probably, but nice.”

“you don’t think i had an idea of what kind of person he was? i cared for him, but i knew he could be harsh. i caught some bits and pieces when he… yelled at you after our high school graduation.”

you have an almost visceral reaction as he mentions the incident. your father had yelled at you after the graduation, because the best student of your class got a prize on the big podium, and it wasn’t you. and that as a result made your father angry, because being in the top five wasn’t enough — because it should’ve been you.

it was always supposed to be you.

“why did you even want to be around him at all? if you knew how much of an asshole he was all this time.”

mingyu stares at the wall for a few seconds when he thinks about it. “he came into my life when i needed it the most. but looking back, i feel guilty. i shouldn’t have cared for someone like that.”

“like what?”

“someone that cruel. he didn’t deserve to be loved or cared for, not in any way.”

“can only good people be loved?” you ask in return, and he seems positively surprised at your question.

“you’d find love for a bad person?”

“mingyu.” you say his name in a brief chuckle, and it steals his breath away. “do you think you have that much of a choice over who we love? we don’t. that’s what makes it so complicated.”

he seems to grow increasingly stressed with each thing you say, much to your surprise. “but would you want to love someone like that?”

looking away from him for a moment, you think his words over. “if that person was good to me, and had the same values… yeah, i would. trust me, the few people i care about are no saints, and yet i’d go to hell and back for them.”

“am i on that list too?”

you meet his eyes, and his expression is so beautifully genuine, full of raw emotion you’ve never seen him show before. it’s then that it finally hits you — kim mingyu actually cares about you.

the worst thing is that you just might care about him, too.

so you gently smile at him with a light shrug of your shoulders. “maybe.”

he reciprocates it, his brown eyes blown wide as he gazes at you. “i’m glad. you’re on my list too, y’know.”

“am i?” you tease, and he nods cheerfully, happy to have verbalized his appreciation for you. “well, i didn’t really see it coming, that’s for sure.”

your words bring mingyu’s thoughts back to the death of your father, the rift you accused him of causing between the two of you. a wave of guilt comes flooding in once more.

“look, i… i know you may not believe me, but i genuinely feel sorry for what happened. for taking something from you. despite the things i saw and heard, i really was too stupid to see that your dad treated you as badly as he did.”

staring him right in the eye, you don’t fail to catch the earnestness in them. “it’s alright. you’re not half as much to blame as i’ve tried to make myself believe you were.”

the words intrigue him. “how come?”

swallowing the lump in your throat, you press your lips together. “because he didn’t care about me. he never did. maybe he was different before my mother died, maybe he wasn’t. i wouldn’t know.”

mingyu tries to hold his ground as he watches you get emotional. he remains quiet in his spot next to you.

“can i tell you something?” your voice is hesitant and almost inaudible, like a child who’s trying to tell their parent they did something wrong.

when he silently nods, you continue.

“you wanted to know why i hated you, right? well, i...” you pause in an attempt to find the right words, “i felt invisible to my father. like i didn’t matter — i was treated like nothing more than a tool to improve his businesses. but you... he treated you like a son. like a person. and i spent years trying to figure out what i did wrong and you did right, and i just... i didn’t get it. i still don’t. but whatever it was, i was jealous that you had it and i didn’t. and everyone loved you and praised you, be it our friends or their parents. everyone in our social circle. from my point of view, no one had ever uttered a single bad word about you, and then when my father began to take a liking towards you as well... i just hated you. you were my perfect scapegoat.”

the guilt on his face is clear as day. when he parts his lips, you already know he wants to apologize again, but you shake your head, speaking up first.

because you don’t hate him anymore.

“mingyu, there was nothing for you to take away from me to begin with. long before you were even present in his life, he didn’t care for me either.” with the corners of your lips turned down, you continue. “i did everything he asked. perfect grades, perfect manners, perfect social life. but he didn’t care. it’s not often i say people have no heart, but he just… he just didn’t have one. for his job, perhaps, for his business partners — but not for anyone outside of his work. i just didn’t think that would go for his own child, too.”

you reach for your forehead, trying to take his attention away from your face, running your hand through your hair while blinking your tears away. why are you telling him all this?

but it just feels so good to finally get it all out.

“you did the best you could.” he tells you, and you nod with watery eyes.

“i did. and somehow, none of it mattered.”

when the first heavy sob leaves you, you try to hold it back, not wanting him to see you break down.

he doesn’t let you. he moves to sit next to you and takes you into his arms, and for the first time in however long, you let yourself break. the tears are your acknowledgement of the pain it has caused you over the years, the damage that will never quite heal and always follow you wherever you go.

you’re not sure why you’re falling apart this easily. you hardly ever cry anymore, perhaps a few times a year, and you usually feel strong enough to hold it all back when you’re in front of others, but this time — this time, you just can’t.

“it’s alright, sweetheart. it’s okay. you’re alright. he’s gone now.” he whispers into your ear as comfort. “but you’re not alone. not anymore.”

his heart shatters when he internally makes the comparison between the loving family he grew up in and the lonely, broken family you could hardly call home.

“why wasn’t i enough? why didn’t he like me?” you mutter to yourself, having lost control as you cry into mingyu’s neck, clinging onto his body as your chest aches.

“because he couldn’t. he didn’t have it in him to care for anyone. that says more about him than it does about you.” he responds, gently stroking your hair, even pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and for the first time in a long time, you feel… cared for. like you truly matter to someone.

something that feels scary, perhaps even strange, but good.

mingyu’s big arms cage you into his hold, a comforting feeling. to be honest, you wish you could stay with him like this for the whole night. maybe even longer than that.

he rubs your back, feeling the pain in your chest as if it were his own. he’d take all of it if he could. you were damaged in a way that no one deserves, and seeing how much it still affects you and most likely will in the long term, that tears him apart.

the heavy ache in your chest subsides, yet you still cling onto him. you feel the most at ease you’ve ever been with anyone.

“thank you.” you mumble, giving him a tight hug with you wrapping your arms around him ‘till he’s almost suffocating. “i needed that.”

“anytime.”

you eventually finally come down from your breakdown, body slightly twitching as the last tears silently roll down your cheeks.

with your head in his lap, you lay on your side, closing your eyes for a while as the pain in your chest slowly subsides. he’s still rubbing at your clothed skin, and you’re curious if he’s aware it does wonders for calming you down.

“i’m sorry for yelling at you, gyu. after the funeral.” you speak up, voice still raspy. “i was wrong about you.”

mingyu feels his throat tighten up. “it’s okay. i was wrong about you, too. we have more in common than i initially thought we did.”

you wipe your tears away and move to sit upright, finally feeling confident enough to look him in the eye again. “like what?”

both of you are tired. everything that’s happened the past weeks has definitely been causing some sleepless nights for both of you, and with all the alcohol and emotions running high, you’re both feeling a tad drowsy.

he runs a hand through his dark locks. “this part of society — i think it’s exhausting, a lot of the time. full of noise, small talk that’s supposed to hide how cold half these people are, social pressure, all of that. but here, at home, it’s quiet. maybe a little too quiet. the thing is, i have my friends and family that i care about more than anyone else, but i still feel… hollow. like i’m missing something.”

you nod at him. “you can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely.”

“yeah.” he sighs. “do you feel it too?”

“well, i may not have a family, but i have my friends. and they mean so much to me, and i can talk to them if i need to, but… yeah. i feel it too.”

he wonders if you feel the same connection that he’s feeling right now. he’s drawn to you like a damn magnet.

mingyu already knows he’s a goner when he gently puts his hand on your cheek. he feels electrified by your presence, your voice, even the way you look at him.

he needs you.

“maybe we can be lonely together.”

his words are enough for your breath to hitch in your throat. you doubt you’ve ever wanted to have someone as much as you do now.

and so you cross a line you never thought you would and press your lips to his, desperately needing his touch.

the kiss is harsh but slow, as if you’re aching to taste eachother. his hand makes its way to the back of your head, the other on your back to pull you closer to him.

his heart might as well be lurching out of his chest. god, he feels that excitement and nervousness as if he were his teenage self sharing a first kiss with his crush — yet whatever feeling is clouding his mind is something darker and deeper, something that transcends what he can describe with words.

he kisses you like his life depends on it. once you’ve both pulled back to get some air, looking the other straight in the eye, it’s like you’re silently admitting that the relationship you share is more than just being partners.

it’s something that comes alarmingly close to love.

the moment is harshly interrupted when his phone rings. he blinks a few times before rolling his eyes at the timing, as he’s still half on top of you.

you can do nothing but wait underneath him as he takes the call, and when he closes his eyes and releases a sigh, you know it’s not positive.

“alright, thank you.” he says before hanging up, turning his focus to you. “the alarm at my apartment in the city was triggered. i gotta check it out, i’m sorry.”

“it’s fine.” you mutter out, suddenly unsure of how to talk to him now that you’ve crossed the line that you have.

but mingyu is much more straightforward. his gaze is warm and intense as it finds your eyes, and he wants nothing more than to stay here with you. so he shows you that.

just when your lips are about to touch again, he smirks, gently holding your chin. “i’ll be back for this.”

with those words, he catches his breath and gets up from the couch, after which he jogs down the stairs, and half a minute later, you hear the front doors open and close.

the sound allows you to release the breath you’ve been holding.

what the fuck have you gotten yourself into?

thank you for reading. let me know if you enjoyed it x

READ PART TWO HERE

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[carnalcrows]

JEALOUSY - SUHYEOK

pairing: lee suhyeok x bottom male reader

synopsis: Fighting zombies is one thing; fighting off your secret boyfriend’s jealousy while your friend crushes on you? Pure chaos.

content warnings: 18+, semi-public sex, anal, voyuerism (?), zombies.

word count: 1.2k

A/N: give me more AOUAD reqs yall!!

The classroom buzzed with a strange energy, an odd mix of fear and camaraderie. Despite the ever-present moans and thuds of the undead outside, the boys managed to find ways to distract themselves from the grim reality. The latest distraction? Wujin’s endless monologue.

"You know," Wujin began, leaning back against the wall with the confidence of someone who definitely thought they were the main character, "if we survive this apocalypse—and I mean if—I’m taking Y/N out for a fancy dinner. Like, steak, dessert, the whole deal."

The group burst into laughter. Dae-su nearly choked on his biscuit, while Cheong-san shook his head with a grin.

"Bro, you can’t even afford steak," Cheong-san teased. "Your wallet’s emptier than the cafeteria right now."

"First of all," Wujin retorted, holding up a finger, "rude. Second of all, Y/N is worth it. He’s got that whole ‘strong and silent’ vibe going on, you know? Like, the kind of guy who could carry you bridal style through a horde of zombies and still look cool doing it."

More laughter erupted, and even you—sitting across the room sorting through supplies—couldn’t help but crack a smile. Wujin was nothing if not persistent.

"You’ve got it bad, huh?" Dae-su said, nudging Wujin with his elbow.

Wujin sighed dramatically, clutching his chest like he’d been shot. "Of course I do! Have you seen him? He’s like... the human equivalent of a survival handbook. Practical, reliable, and ridiculously good-looking. If I had a chance, I wouldn’t just shoot my shot—I’d cannonball into it."

Suhyeok, who’d been leaning against the wall a few feet away, stayed silent. He twirled a metal pipe in his hands, his expression unreadable.

"Y/N’s great and all," Cheong-san said, throwing a glance in your direction. "But don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic?"

"Me? Dramatic?" Wujin gasped, mock-offended. "It’s not dramatic to acknowledge greatness when you see it. He’s a ten out of ten."

The group burst into laughter again, but Suhyeok barely reacted. He simply shrugged, his voice calm as he said, "Yeah, Y/N’s cool."

Wujin grinned, turning to him. "Right? I mean, come on, Suhyeok, even you’ve gotta admit he’s a catch."

Suhyeok gave a nonchalant hum, his tone light. "Sure. He’s a good guy." His fingers tightened on the pipe for just a moment before he set it down, his movements smooth.

The conversation drifted to other topics, but Suhyeok’s mind stayed stuck on Wujin’s words. The casual teasing and compliments shouldn’t have bothered him, but they did.

He glanced at you across the room, the corner of his mouth twitching up as you focused on organizing the supplies. You were completely oblivious to Wujin’s crush—and to Suhyeok’s growing jealousy.

Later that night, the group settled down, some asleep while others kept watch. You slipped away with Suhyeok under the guise of checking the rooftop, craving a moment of peace.

As you leaned against the railing, the cool night air brushing against your skin, you sighed. "You know, Wujin’s been talking about me all day. He’s funny, but man, he really doesn’t stop."

Suhyeok leaned beside you, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah, he’s got a lot to say."

You chuckled, completely missing the edge in his tone. "He’s harmless, though. Honestly, it’s kind of sweet. I think he—"

Before you could finish, Suhyeok turned and kissed you, cutting you off mid-sentence. The force of it pushed you back against the railing, his hands gripping your waist firmly. The kiss was intense, almost desperate, as if he’d been holding back all day and finally snapped.

You froze for a moment before kissing him back, your hands clutching at his jacket. When he finally pulled back, his lips red and slightly swollen, you were left breathless.

"What the hell was that for?" you asked, your voice low and shaky.

Suhyeok’s eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. "You really don’t know, do you?"

"Know what?" you asked, genuinely confused.

He smirked, brushing his thumb along your jaw. "You’re mine, Y/N. I don’t care who else thinks they have a shot—you’re mine."

The words sent a shiver down your spine. "Wait… is this about Wujin? You’re jealous?"

Suhyeok didn’t answer. Instead, he kissed you again, rougher this time, his hands sliding up your back as he pulled you closer. The kiss grew sloppier, your breaths mingling as his lips moved down to your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp as he nipped at your skin, his grip on you tightening.

Your hands moved to his shoulders, as he trailed down to your pants, pulling them down with a firm tug, making you gasp with surprise.

“Here? What if someone–” he interrupted you with another searing kiss as he tugge your boxers down too, leaving your lower half bare.

Out of nowhere, he pulled out a small packet of lube (magician I tell you), and ripped it open with his teeth. You simply stared at him wide-eyed, wondering where the damn thing came from. Suhyeok merely smirked, and poured the cold liquid onto his fingers, watching it run down to his palms.

He gently turned you around and prodded one lubed finger against your ass, slowly inserting it, with you covering your mouth. He then added one after the other– and soon, three fingers were steadily pumping in and out of you.

Your back arched, pushing forward into the wall in front of you– hands digging into the paint, coming off with flecks in your nails.

Deeming you to be prepped enough, Suhyeok removed his fingers and replaced them with his erection, his pants hanging low at his ankles.

He pressed the tip in– followed by the rest of his length, until he fully bottomed out inside of you. He groaned at how your hole was clenching tightly around his cock– feeling every twitch and pulse.

“Gonna move now baby,” he uttered before pulling out all the way before slamming back in. You moaned at the feeling– almost forgetting that the zombies or your friends could hear you at any moment. 

Suhyeok turned you around to face him– having an almost death grip on your waist. One of your hands tightly clutched his shoulder, while the other covered your mouth so that you wouldn’t let out any noises.

He buried his face in the crook of your neck, groaning with almost every single thrust. You felt so fucking good around his cock.

"Suhyeok," you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. "Someone could walk in."

As if on cue, the rooftop door creaked open.

Both of you turned, startled, to see Wujin standing there, his face a mix of shock and horror.

"I—I was just—" Wujin stammered, his eyes darting between you and Suhyeok. "You know what? Nope. Didn’t see anything. Carry on."

Before either of you could say a word, Wujin spun around and bolted, the door slamming shut behind him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair. "Great. This is exactly what I needed."

Suhyeok laughed softly, still thrusting gently inside of you, "Guess we don’t have to keep it a secret anymore."

"Yeah, and now I get to deal with Wujin thinking I’m a jerk."

"He’ll get over it," Suhyeok said, pulling you closer. "And if not, who cares? You’re mine, Y/N. That’s all that matters."

You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

"And you love it," he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple, before pulling out and slamming back in again with full force– making you let out an almost pornographic moan in surprise.

It was going to be a long night.

© carnalcrows on tumblr. Please do not steal my works as I spend time and and I take genuine effort to do them.

[d3vilcvntz]

silly little crush ♡

top male reader x bottom male character

he has a crush on you for months but feels like he have no chance with you because of your difference in personality. you were the outgoing and loud type of person who have lots of friends. he's basically the opposite of you, shy and can barely makes any friends. he admired you since the first time you approached him. you were just asking the directions to the building as you're new in this department, but something about that small interaction drives him crazy and he doesn't know why. he keeps ignoring these feelings as it's just a silly little crush and he'll probably move on from it later.

he was 2 years older than you, making him your senior so you did talk to him quite a lot after that because he have more knowledge than you. asking him how to do this and that, he's not complaining though. it's actually part of his day that he really looks forward to, even though he doesn't want to admit it.

you did tried to invite him to hang out sometimes but each times, he would just declined and said that he's busy. he's not actually, he just hate interacting with people, other than you of course. he would be down to hang out if it's just two of you though, but it will be weird for him to ask so he just wait for you to do it first. he just doesn't want to be seen as desperate

and the wait is worth it because you did ended up inviting him to hang out at your place. innocently asking him to teach you how to organise some files because you didn't know how to, which is not the main reason why you invited him over obviously. you actually knew about his feelings but keep it casual to see if he'll do anything about it. you taken a liking to him too since the day you got the job. he looks so cool doing his works that it made you wonder how he'll looks like in bed, getting ruined by you

you got bored waiting so why not make the first move ? he arrived at your place and both of you started talking about works as he helped you organised the files like you asked. you offered him to drink with you and get to know each other, i mean, you guys are coworkers after all but barely knows anything about one another. both of you were slowly getting drunks while sharing some personal stories

honestly, it's your first time seeing him this talkative. he's usually quiet in the office. he's so cute like this <3 the way he laughed everytime you make a joke, even though it's a lame one "i actually don't have that much friends so I don't really enjoy going to work everyday.. well that's until i met you" he said, taking another sip on his drink. you were shocked at the sudden topic but just smiled at him, waiting for him to continue "you know..it's funny that i actually like you even though we barely know each other" he spoke again

you paused for a moment "is this a confession?" you teased him, looking at him directly "...what?...wait..wait! i didn't mean that way ! i mean.." he basically panicked, stuttering on his words, face flushed "im sorry..im sorry... i must have creep you out.. i just-" before he can even finish his sentence, you gave him a kiss on the lips, a quick one

he was shocked and quickly backed away, there's a lot he wanted to say and ask but he didn't know why he feels like all of it just got stuck in his throat "i like you too" you told him, getting closer to him. that just answered all of his questions. "the feelings are mutuals then?" you asked him, giving a little smile. he feels like he's about to burst

both of you were in your bed now, you pushed him down, making him lay on it "can i?" you asked, fingers fiddling with his buttons which he responded with a simple yes. you unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his body to you. he's so pretty ♡

his hands grabbed on your shirt, basically asking you to take it off too. you slide your hand in his pants, teasing his cock. he moans so sweetly in your ear <3 you want to hear more of it, no, you need to hear more of it. slowly pulling off his pants and underwear, pouring lube all over your fingers and sliding one of it inside him

you're trying your best to take it slow and make it enjoyable for both of you. you added more fingers as time went by, getting him all stretched out and ready for you

you were trying to grab the condom by your bedside before he stopped you, eyes avoiding yours "we don't need that..it's okay if it's you" he whispered softly. shit, don't think you can't even control yourself anymore if he's this cute !

pushing your cock into him, watching how his hole swallowed you up. thrusting into him with a slow pace to get him used to it. his hands gripping the sheets, soft moans filling up the room. you began to pick up the pace and thrust deeper into him, chasing your own orgasm as well as his

you both came soon after, holding onto each other. you laid beside him with your cock still inside him as you whispered nothing but sweets into his ear, calming him down from his high

you slowly pulled out your cock, earning cute whimpers from him "no...it's gonna leak out" he said so sweetly, shoving his fingers inside his hole to keep your cum inside

it takes everything in you to not just do another round but you wanted to be gentle as this is his first time after all <3 you stood up from the bed to prepare the bath for both of you, trying to distract yourself. you have to clean it all up after all, don't want to sleep all sweaty and sticky

sitting in the bathtub together, cuddling with him between your legs as he leaned onto your chest "this is like a dream to me" he suddenly said, looking up at you with a soft smile. ah, this might be the best day in your life <3

a/n: this is so normal compared to my other works lmfao

[rubiehart]

DARLIN’ YOU SEND ME…

pairing: wife!reader x husband!jj maybank

summary: you’re feeling insecure about your pregnancy body, jj is quick to rectify that…

warnings: descriptions of real bodies, reader is insecure about her pregnant body, jj jokes about drinking readers breast milk?, allusions to sex, praise kink goes off.

a/n: wanted this to be more angsty but couldn’t bring myself to do it, personally i’ve never had a baby so of course i can’t particularly know what goes through a new mother’s head in moments like these, but i hope i did the topic justice! lmk and hope you love ♡︎

♪ You Send Me - Otis Redding ♪

JJ grips his toolbox tighter in his right hand, the litter of silver rings adorning his fingers scratching against the plastic of the handle, most he’d been wearing since he was a kid, some gifted by you, some he’d stolen. His wedding ring sits on his fourth finger, engraved with waves and your initials.

His heavy boots trudge against the wooden steps to your little home as he whistles casually to himself, some song he’d heard on the radio, or maybe from you, he’s not quite sure and he doesn’t give it enough thought before he’s wiping off his boots on the little ‘Welcome’ mat before letting himself inside.

Instead of being met with the sight of his beautiful wife on the couch, or in the kitchen cooking up something delectable. Instead, he’s met with stillness.

His eyebrows pull together in confusion, placing down his toolbox on the dining table, which is littered with toys, and upon a quick glance around the house, pretty much everywhere else is a mess of dress up gowns and baby dolls, curtesy of his own little whirlwind, his baby girl Quinnie. He shrugs off his flannel to reveal his slightly grease stained wife beater underneath, licking once over his lips like he did when he was thinking, wondering where you are.

Then, all his questions are answered as you come around the corner from the bedroom, wearing just one of his old threadbare shirts, the neckline a little torn and stretched from where you’d cut it to make it an off the shoulder fit when you were around seventeen, and a pair of cotton underwear that hugs your newly thick thighs, the fat jiggling softly in the warm light with each step you take closer to him.

The ‘J’ necklace he’d bought you for your first anniversary hangs between your milk heavy breasts concealed by your t-shirt. Your tired eyes land on his in the low lighting , eyelashes looking longer and darker in this light, and he smiles softly at the image of his beautiful wife as you drag your bare feet across the creaky floorboards to meet him in the entryway.

His blue eyes widen slightly as he takes in the sight of you, his shirt hanging loosely off your shoulders, but the fabric stretched tight across your full breasts. He meets your eyes with an appreciative hum and quickly closes the distance between you, pulling you into a sweet embrace in his strong arms, caging you in and the pressure against your tired body feels nice.

“Already put Quinn down.” You mumble against his cotton covered chest, feeling him press his lips to your crown, the light stubble on his chin rubbing against the tender flesh. Your eyelashes flutter closed at the sensation, sighing softly against him and then taking a deep breath, the scent of him filling your nostrils: sea salt, a hint of sweat and the last hints of the old spice cologne he’d patted on this morning, the same one that had filled your senses that morning when he’d given you a soft kiss to your sleeping cheek and left for work.

JJ let’s out a soft breath of laughter into your hair, hands trailing down your sides and landing on your hips, one hand dipping under the hem of your shirt to rest his palm against your lower back, needing to feel closer to you than he already is. Other hand squeezing affectionally at your hip.

“Always bein’ super mom, huh? That’s my girl.”

Your heart flutters a little at his words, his intentions surface level but it hits a little deeper considering you’d been having doubts about your capabilities with Quinn, and as a mother in general, especially with another baby on the way now. The validation that you still are still his girl ,after everything.

He can feel the subtle shift in your embrace, the way you cling a little tighter, chest pressed to his a little more, has him wondering if he’s done something. He pulls back slightly, hands moving up to your upper arms, thumb stroking softly over the soft skin as he searches your eyes for a hint of anything you’re hiding beneath the surface.

“You okay, mama?”

Your eyes flick up to his, lashes kissing the heavens and it always makes his heart grow a little fonder each time you look at him like he hung the moon and stars, the height difference only fuelling the fire in his heart, and seemingly also in his lower abdomen. “‘M okay, Jayj.”

His hands move up lovingly and his calloused thumb runs across your cheekbone softly, not fully convinced but knows not to push you when you’re closed off like this. “You sure? ‘Cause you know when I see those wheels turning in that head o’ yours..”

His free hand moves a little rapidly, silver bands glinting in the light and you smile fondly at the blonde boy. The hand that’s still against your face is a glimpse of his softer side and you lean into his touch, eye fluttering closed for a second as you hum contently. “‘M sure.”

JJ let’s out a soft defeated sigh, it’s not like he wasn’t anticipating that exact answer though. His thumb stays creasing the soft skin of your face as he looks at you with a concerned expression, eyebrows drawn together.

“Promise me you’ll tell if anythin’s wrong, yeah? I can tell when you’re not yourself and it drives me crazy not knowin’ whats goin’ on.”

“Promise.” You mumble, blinking a little slow as tiredness overtakes you, standing on your toes, legs a little wobbly to press a soft kiss to his chapped lips, your softer ones making him melt as he feels the swell of your bump against his lower stomach. You smell like baby powder and Quinn’s lavender lotion, he notes.

He wraps his arms around your waist, muscles of his tan forearms rippling under the skin, he rests his chin on top of your head and breathes you in again. “Good.” He seals it with a soft peck to your lips when you pull away, much to his dismay. “Why don’t ya go sit down an’ Ill make us some dinner. You must be starvin’.” He kisses at your temple softly and sends you off with an affectionate tap to your ass.

You let him brush past you into the moonlit kitchen, taking a seat at the toy littered dinner table, letting out a sigh as you push them all to one side. The room is only illuminated by the warm lamp in the corner of the connected living room, and it highlights the muscles in his back as he slings a rag over his shoulder. You pull one leg up to your chest on the chair, chin rested against your knee as you eye him with a soft appreciative smile of your husband.

“How was work?” You keep your volume low, aware of Quinn’s sleeping form just down the hall, one hand comes to rest against your bump against the threadbare t-shirt.

JJ flashes you a soft smile over his shoulder at the sound of your voice, stirring something fragrant in a pot on the stove. “Eh, the usual. Guy showed up with a flat tire, some lady spilled coffee all over her Sedan’s interior.. Ain’t never a dull moment, that’s for sure.”

You let a soft breath of laughter through your nose, stroking your thumb softly over over your bump underneath your shirt, letting a comfortable silence fall over your little family as he works on dinner to feed his babies, you and little man, excusing your sleeping two year old down the hall.

After a while, JJ plates to two servings of steaming hot pasta with marinara and brings them over to the table, and you’re salivating at this point as the delectable smell fills your nose. He sets a plate down in front of you and takes his seat across from yours.

“Eat up, mama. Gotta keep that energy up for little man in there.”

Your eyes light up at the sight of the steaming dish, only really now realising how hungry you actually were, too caught up with Quinn all day to even think about your own needs. “Thankyou, baby.” You hum, reaching for a fork to dig in.

JJ watches you dig in hungrily, one arm wrapped around your shin and the other forking at your pasta, a soft smile tugging at his lips at the sight of you eating a proper meal. He starts to eat his own but keeps half an eye on you the whole time. He reaches for his drink, muscles in his forearms rippling as he takes a sip and sets it back down, licking over his bottom lip once before he speaks.

“You talk to your mom today?”

Your eyes flick up from your plate, sucking up a string of pasta as you shake your head, brows furrowed. You swallow it down before speaking. “Why?”

He sets his glass down, his expression turning slightly worried. He knows you and your moms relationship isn’t the best, considering the whole dating, marrying and starting a family with the one and only JJ Maybank situation..

“No reason, just wondered. She hasn’t been callin’ as much lately, thought maybe y’all talked or somethin’.”

He stabs his fork into the pasta, twisting the long strings around it absently. You shrug, reflectively stabbing at a piece of chicken, not really having an answer for him.

His eyebrows pull together as he observes your overly nonchalant demeanour. He opens his mouth as if to press the matter further, but hesitates, deciding against it for now. Instead, he forces a small smile and changed the subject, nodding towards your belly with a cheekful of pasta.

Your eyes flick up to his as he begins to speak, one hand subconsciously drifting to your growing bump, stroking a gentle thumb over the skin through the cotton.

“How’s our little guy doin’ in there? You feelin’ him movin’ around much today?” JJ asks, seeming all enthusiastic and excited at the chance to hear about his baby, you smile smally at his reaction.

“Mhm, like crazy.” You hum, hand still resting against your bump. “Gotta be doin’ flips in there or somethin’.”

His face lights up at the news of your son’s energetic movements, and you almost laugh about how alike he is to his daddy in that sense. Without hesitation, JJ stands up and moves around to your side of the table, crouching down and placing one hand over yours on your stomach, eyes flicking up to yours.

“Can you feel him kickin’ right now?”

You shake your head with a soft smile and a tender heart, chewing your last bite and discarding your fork with a soft clatter onto your plate. “Think he’s sleepin’ right now, J.”

JJ’s face falls slightly, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. He keeps his hand on your belly though, giving in a gentle pat as he stands from his crouching position hands on his knees.

“‘S okay babe. He’s just conservin’ his energy for later, I bet.”

“Yeah, when I’m trynna sleep.” You groan lightheartedly, feeling him laugh too as he pressed a soft kiss to your bump, then to your temple before moving to start clearing away the dishes.

He carries the plates over to the sink and peers over his shoulder at you, stretching your arms on the chair, yawning softly, not even aware of his appreciative gaze. “You tired, darlin’?”

Your heart flutters at the pet name, one he’d only really started calling you after you’d gotten married, and it makes you feel all warm inside each and every time. “A little.” You sigh through a yawn, lifting your shirt from your stomach and your eyebrows furrow at the sight.

“Look,” You mumble, bare feet tapping against the floor as you wander over to him at the sink. “My stretch marks are gettin’ so bad.”

He sets the plate down he was scrubbing and turns to face you, his eyes immediately dropping to the area of interest. He reaches out and gently traced one of the marks with his finger, his expression softening. “They’re just part of bein’ a mama, baby. They don’t define ya.”

Your eyes meet his and they soften with love for your sweet boy, and you nod shallowly with a defeated sigh. “I know, ‘s just annoying.” You huff, letting the shirt that was once his drop back down over your bump.

JJ senses your disappointment and he’s already scheming, because there’s no way on this earth he’s letting his baby mama walk around thinking she’s anything less than perfect. “Hey,” He mumbles, arms wrapping around your waist to bring you into a gentle hug, being aware of your swelling belly between the two of you. “C’mere,”

“Let me see ‘em again.” He says gently, pulling you away gently by your shoulders to look him in the eye, moonlight bathing his angular face in a dark blue hue. “Show me one more time.”

“Why?” You mumble, eyebrows drawn together softly in confusion, but the feeling burning inside of you overtakes any need for an answer as you lift the cotton material, soft eyes trained on his face for a reaction.

His eyes soften as he leans down, expression matching yours as he presses his lips against each and every one, his hands moving softly over the skin. “Because I wanna make sure you know how fuckin’ beautiful they are on you, pretty girl. How much I love seein’ em on my girl.

You feel yourself getting a little emotional as you watch your six foot husband pepper gentle kisses all over your bump, calling you his girl and telling you how beautiful you are. Makes you wanna cry. You swallow thickly and your hands stay by your sides, pads of your fingers tapping against each other in a nervous tick.

He hears you sniffle and is immediately standing back up to his full height, cupping your soft face in his calloused hands. “Hey…you don’t gotta cry, sweetheart. You’re carryin’ our baby, makin’ me the happiest god damn man alive. These marks? They’re just-”

You watch him, eyes gleaming with tears and full of love as you cut him off, voice a little gravelly. “I love you.”

His blue eyes identically well up with unshed tears, mirroring your own emotional state. He pulls you into his strong arms, holding you tightly against his broad chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “I love you too, mama.”

Your bump presses comfortably against his firm abs, milk heavy tits pressed against his chest as you breathe slowly, basking in the feeling of being in the arms of the absolute love of your life. After a beat, you whisper into the still air. “Will you shower me?”

A slight smile crosses his face at your whispered question, one hand moving to slowly caress your hair. “Yes ma’am,” He whispers back, hands moving to scoop you up from under your thighs, you’re unsteady for a moment, but then it’s like nothing’s changed as you wrap your arms around his neck, legs around his waist as he carries you towards the bathroom.

“Let’s get you clean, pretty girl.” He murmurs as you pass the threshold of the bathroom, voice filled with tenderness, careful to keep his volume down for the sake of your sleeping toddler down the hall.

His movements are slow and steady as he sets you on your feet, knowing how unbalanced you can be when you’re this pregnant. He runs a soft hand over your bump as he looks you in your eyes, the lighting in the bathroom a little more fluorescent and it makes you wanna close your eyes. “You needa sit down while I get everythin’ ready?”

You nod softly but he didn’t need to wait for an answer because he’s already lowering you gently onto the closed toilet seat lid, then he gives you a quick peck on your lips before turning towards the shower. He starts to pick out all your favourite products, knowing you haven’t had time for a proper shower since the last time he did it for you, which come to think of it was only last week.

He’s speedy on his feet, knowing you’re probably not the most comfortable where you’re currently sitting, he puts up your favourite hair products and body wash, before turning back to you with a proud smile.

“All set, mama.”

“Can y’ undress me?” You mumble, pawing at your eye as you stand on wobbly feet, the hem of the shirt falling at your mid thighs, leaving a little peek of your cotton panties on display.

His eyes warm with affection as he nods, carefully lifting the t-shirt up and over your head, revealing your full heavy breasts and swollen belly. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties, slowly peeling them down your legs as you lift each foot for him.

You’re a little insecure, naturally, but you’re far too tired to attempt to cover yourself up like normal, and you remind yourself that it’s JJ, and you never need to hide from him. The steam begins to fog up the bathroom a little as you stand there naked, arms by your side as you watch him, eyes soft.

He takes a moment to drink in the sight of his pregnant wife, his eyes roaming over your swollen belly and the fullness of your breasts. He strips himself off fast, and it’s equally humorous and sexy at how eager he is. Then he bends down with a soft sigh, forearms resting under your thighs as he picks you up like you weigh nothing, cradling you in his arms as he walks towards the shower.

“‘M I too heavy?” You mumble softly, lips pressed to his shoulder, arms thrown around his neck, naked body pressed against his own bare one as he carries you towards the shower.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head as he steps into the warm spray of the shower, voice echoing a little: “Never, mama. You're perfect just the way you are." He sets you down gently on the built-in bench, making sure you're stable before stepping back to wet his own hair.

You place your hands in your lap with a soft smile, feeling the warm air hit you as you sit on the bench, watching with love sick eyes as he stands under the spray, muscular, tall body in display, looking like some kind of greek God.

Noticing your adoring gaze, JJ gives you a playful wink, running his hands through his damp hair. "Like what you see, gorgeous?" he teases with a smirk, moving closer under the guise of washing off, but really just stealing glances at your voluptuous form.

You giggle all flustered, like it’s your first time seeing him naked, like he hasn’t been your husband for nearly three years and your boyfriend even longer.

His smirk widens as he sees your flustered reaction, making him feel like the most desired man in the world. He steps closer, crouching down in front of you so he's eye level with you sitting on the bench. "Still think I'm handsome?"

“The most.” You smile, breasts sitting heavy on your chest, droplets of milk beading at your nipples as you smile at him, cheeks blushed.

Hes immediately scooping you back up onto your feet, arm draped around your waist as he brings you under the warm stream with him, keeping an arm on you at all times to keep you steady.

His eyes immediately drop to your chest, noticing the milk beads forming at your nipples. His heart skips a beat as he reaches out, gently brushing his thumb over one of the beads, watching it break and roll down your areola. "Mama's got milk for me too, huh?"

You roll your eyes playfully at him, knowing the reason you’re so full of milk is because Quinn hasn’t nursed for a good few hours. “Don’t think it’s for you, J.”

He chuckles mischievously, leaning in closer and nuzzling his face between your breasts, inhaling your warm, lavendar-scented skin. "What if I asked nicely, though?" He looks up at you with puppy eyes, pretending to pout.

“Maybe if you said ‘pretty please’’.” You play along, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

As soon as your lips touch his, he loses all pretense, wrapping his arms around your back and deepening the kiss. He pulls you into his lap, sitting on the bench with you cradled against his chest as he continues to kiss you.

“N- I’m too heavy..” You mumble against his lips, trying to shuffle off of him in fear of crushing him, it’s a stupid idea, anyway, you’ve always been physically smaller than him, and he’s 220 pounds of muscle.

He halts your attempt to get up, firm hands grasping your hips as he holds you in place, meeting your gaze with amused determination. Ouch, baby. You underestimate me, damn.” He mumbles, one hand flying to his chest in mock offence.

“I bench more than you weigh." With a playful grin, he squeezes your thighs affectionately. Your heart flutters at his words, throat going a little dry. Something else seems to flutter too, between your legs, and JJ must feel it from your position on his lap.

His pupils dilate as he feels the flutter between your legs, a low growl rumbling in his chest. He spreads his legs wider, pulling you flush against him so you can feel his growing hardness pressing against your core.

Your chubby pussy lips spread around his hardness, head falling back a little, but you’re still protesting softly, the warm spray covering you both. “Jay- m’ serious- m’ too heavy.”

Smiling against your neck with knowing, tender amusement, he runs one hand up your back while the other supports your weight, pulling you even closer. "Stop trying to stop me, pretty girl. You know I love this body of yours - every inch of it."

Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling of his lips against that spot that makes you melt, a soft whine leaving your lips. “Tell me you know.” He whisper against the skin, tongue darting out to lick against the side of your throat.

You hesitate for a second, arms around his neck tightening a little. “I.. I know, JJ. I know.” You rush out all in one breath, pebbled nipples brushing against his muscular chest.

One of his hands move to palm at one of your heavy breasts, lips not stopping their gentle worship of the soft skin of your neck as he speaks, breath hot against the sensitive skin. “Yeah? And don’t you ever forget it, mama. Can’t have my girl walkin’ round this house thinkin’ she’s anythin’ less than perfect, yeah? My beautiful girl.”