I decided to give a small break from the angst. I may have a deep passion for angst, but I will admit that my heart yearns for tooth rotting fluff (you will understand this pun after you read this one-shot ;)).
As for the Jigen short story, I will continue it as soon as I can. I have so many ideas on how I want that story to go that I am still deciding.
For now have some Goemon content. <3
You didn't think that living with Goemon would be so tranquil and quiet. The first few weeks you have started dating the samurai, he had insisted you to move in with him. You expressed to him that he was moving too quickly, but he had assured you it was for your safety and to be able to protect you.
Your heart skipped a beat. Goemon was never one to voice his emotions so openly. If he was saying this, it meant he had spent time considering it. Still, the idea of suddenly living with him—sharing space with someone so private and disciplined—made you hesitate.
But when you met his gaze, filled with quiet sincerity, you sighed and gave in.
The journey to his hideaway was silent, but the tension that had been in his shoulders seemed to ease. When you arrived, you took in the sight of his secluded home, nestled deep within the forest. The wooden structure was modest, surrounded by nature, the sound of a nearby stream adding a sense of peace.
You stated that his little house was cute, which resulted him in correcting you that it was called a Kominka. You stepped inside, immediately noticing the near-emptiness of the space. Besides a futon, a low wooden table, and a few necessary items, the place was barren. Shelves lined the walls, holding only the essentials—no unnecessary clutter, no personal mementos. The air inside carried the scent of wood and faint traces of incense, but there was no warmth, no sign of a personal touch.
You wrapped your arms around yourself, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s… very minimalistic,” you said carefully.
Goemon glanced at you, immediately picking up on your unease. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “If you’d like… you can adjust it to your liking.”
You turned to face him fully, eyes widening in surprise. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”
He held your gaze, his expression unreadable but steady. “I trust you.”
Those three words melted your heart. Goemon wasn’t just inviting you into his home—he was inviting you into his life, allowing you to change something that had always been his sanctuary.
With care, you decorated the kominka, blending your tastes with his. You made sure not to overwhelm the traditional beauty of the place, just enough to make it feel like a home for the both of you.
Two months had passed and you sat on your small couch, staring blankly at the tall dark trees shown on the window. The trees swayed ever so slightly at the direction of the summer wind. The sky was lit up by a bunch of stars and the moon hovered in between the sky.
You rose with a huff, your feet pattering against the wooden floor to the pantry. You were in search for something sweet to lift your spirits, but the thought of baking felt exhausting. You searched through the shelves until your eyes landed on a bag of marshmallows. A triumphant smile spread across your face as you found a box of graham crackers to accompany them. The idea stuck suddenly.
S’mores.
The simple thought sparked a flicker of excitement. Gathering all the necessary items, you stepped outside the front sliding door. The cool night air brushed against your skin. You walked a few spaces ahead of the kominka, making sure there was enough room to start a small fire. You began to set up a small fire pit, stacking wood that you found nearby. You light up a piece of paper, throwing at the small pit. The fire started increasing in size, casting a warm golden glow around you and dancing shadows that seem to come alive among the trees.
You sat down on a log in front of the fire. As you skewered a marshmallow onto a stick, a rustling sound near some bushes had caught your attention. You froze in place like a deer in the headlights. You could feel your heart pounding through your chest. Something was coming closer. Was it an animal perhaps?
The rustling from the shadows seemed to grow louder, making the hairs on your arms rise. You grabbed a nearby rock, your instincts fueled by a mix of fear and determination. You held your breath. Once the figure emerged out of the shadows, you hurled the rock towards the direction.
Before the rock could land, a flash of silver sliced through the air—the rock split clean in half. The sharp clang echoed, startling you. Both pieces falling to the floor with a small thud.
From the shadowy foliage emerged a man with an air of calm authority, dressed in traditional Japanese attire, his Zantetsuken gleaming faintly in the firelight, reflecting a sharp glint that mirrored the intensity in his eyes.
“You shouldn’t be outside this late,” Goemon said, sheathing his Zantetsuken. His voice low and steady, carrying an undercurrent of both warning and reassurance.
You let out a sigh of relief, placing a hand on your chest as you tried to relax. “Christ, you scared me!”
Goemon walked over to you. His posture was relaxed yet alert, as if he were both part of the forest and apart from it. An ancient guardian hidden within the modern world. “You are risking yourself being outside all by yourself.”
“You act like I need protecting. I can handle myself, you know.” You smiled, placing your free hand on your hip. The other hand waving around the skewered marshmallow as you spoke.
He exhaled slowly as he stepped closer to you. His gaze drifted to the darkened forest beyond the fire’s glow. “You don’t know what lurks in the shadows. Dangers aren’t always loud and obvious. Sometimes, they wait quietly, watching.”
You arched an eyebrow. “You’re making it sound like some horror story. Goemon, I promise I am fine.”
His jaw tightened slightly, his eyes sharp yet unreadable. “You trust too easily. That’s not always a strength.”
You tilted your head. “And you don’t trust at all. That’s not always a strength either.”
A flicker of something passed through his expression before he sighed, standing in front of you. He placed a hand on your face, his thumb rubbing against your skin delicately. “I just need to make sure you to be safe.”
Your teasing expression softened. You removed your hand from your hip and placed it over his. “You don’t always have to be the protector. I promise I am fine. ”
The white bag of marshmallows had caught his attention from the corner of his eyes. He turned his head to look around your surroundings and the stick you were holding with your other hand. His hand falling to his side. “What is all this?”
“I’m making s’mores. Would you like one?” You said as you sat down on the log.
“S’mores?” Goemon sat beside you, his brows furrowed slightly. You gave him the exact same confused look as you tilted your head. There was a pause, until it clicked in your head. You gasped in realization.
“Oh my God, you poor, deprived soul.” You handed him your stick. You grabbed another marshmallow, sticking it onto a nearby stick. “Here, I’ll show you how to make one.”
He looked down at your skewered marshmallow. “That stick isn’t very sanitary.”
You rolled your eyes and smiled. You hovered the marshmallow over the tip of the fire. “Just trust me. Hold it over the fire like this.”
He copied your movements precisely, watching the marshmallow turn golden brown. “It changes quickly.”
“That’s the magic,” you said with a grin. You took the roasted marshmallow and quickly sandwiched it between the graham crackers and chocolate before holding it up for him. “Try it.”
Goemon hesitated before reaching out, his fingers brushing yours as he took the s’more from your grasp. With the opposite hand, you took his stick from his hand. He studied the s'more for a second, his expression unreadable, then took a careful bite. His brows lifted slightly in surprise before he nodded. "It is good. May I have another?"
You laughed, enjoying the rare moment of delight on his face. "Of course." You reached for another marshmallow, but this time, you made a show of carefully skewering it before handing it to him. "Here, now you try making one."
Goemon accepted the stick, his movements deliberate as he mimicked your technique. You leaned in slightly, watching the way his fingers adjusted the marshmallow’s position, his precision unwavering. The firelight danced across his sharp features, casting a soft glow over his face.
As he roasted the marshmallow, you found yourself staring at Goemon—not paying attention of his actions anymore . The way the firelight flickered across his features made him look almost ethereal—his sharp jawline, the way his eyes reflected the glow, the way his raven hair fell perfectly over his features, the rare calm that settled over him. There was something about this moment that made you want to memorize every detail.
"You’re staring," Goemon said, his voice even, his gaze still on the fire. He didn’t turn his head, but there was the faintest hint of amusement in his tone.
You blinked but didn’t look away. Your cheeks flushed, but you weren't embarrassed. Instead, a small, warm smile spread across your face. "I am just… happy."
He finally glanced at you, the flickering light illuminating his features even more. His expression softened, something unspoken passing between them. He didn’t press you for more. Instead, he simply nodded.
"I’ve missed you," he admitted. "Nights like these. Just… being along your side."
Your hands paused as you placed the marshmallow on a stick. "Me too."
He looked at you then, his gaze steady and searching. "Do you ever wish for something more? Beyond this?"
You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "Sometimes. But then I realize—it’s not about where I am. It’s about who I’m with."
Something in his expression shifted. He reached for a graham cracker, but his hand brushed yours in the process. He didn’t pull away, and neither did you.
"If I ever stopped wandering," he said quietly, "I think I’d like it to be somewhere like this."
You smiled, feeling warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the fire. "Then I’ll make sure to always have s’mores ready."
A rare chuckle escaped him. "A fair bargain."
The fire crackled between you, but you barely noticed. You could get used to this—nights like this, sharing quiet moments with him, with no need for words to say what was already understood.
I wanted to thank all of you for your support and comments. I am deeply grateful and happy that you all enjoy my works. It really means so much from all of you. Gosh, I feel like crying just typing about it.
This is part 2 of my little mini Jigen series. I am so excited to be able to post this. I promise you all, it gets better. Just hold out a little more :,)
Remember, if you have any requests for any Lupin the Third characters, feel free to message or request me. <3
Jigen wasn’t usually the type to take recommendations from strangers—much less from a woman. But something about the way she spoke about this bar made him curious. It was in a quiet, tucked away alley, where the company was decent. He wasn’t looking for company, but a good drink was always worth the gamble in his cards.
The moment he stepped inside, he could tell the woman wasn’t lying.
He had pictured something different about this place. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved by the scenery or disappointed by how calm it was. The lighting was low and warm, the kind that made everything feel a little soft around the edges. The bar itself was polished wood, well-worn but not run down. There was a jukebox in a random corner playing whatever record in the background, mixing with the occasional clink of glasses and murmured conversations.
Jigen took a seat at the far end of the bar, tilting his hat forward just enough to cast a shadow over his eyes. He ordered whiskey, neat, and when the bartender set the glass in front of him, he took a slow sip, letting the burn settle deep in his chest.
It wasn’t bad. He drank in silence. He watched the ice melt in someone else’s forgotten glass, until the sound of the door opening caught his attention. He didn’t turn his head towards the direction of the sound, but his eyes had a mind of their own.
A woman had stepped inside, moving with the kind of exhaustion that only came after a long day. Jigen had assumed she was still in her work clothes. She had that tired-but-still-put-together look, the kind that said she had learned how to push through her fatigue and keep on going. She had a quiet confidence in the way she had carried herself no matter how exhausted she was.
He noticed the way her gaze flicked around the room before settling in his direction. He exhaled slowly through his nose, thankful for the brim of his hat shielding part of his face. He didn’t want her to think he was eyeing her like some sort of creep. For a second he figured she’d take a seat somewhere else, but she walked straight towards him.
“Is this seat taken?” she asked, pointing towards the stool next to him. She tried to look at his face, but his hat made it impossible to even get a good look at him.
Jigen glanced at the empty stool, then shook his head. “Nope.”
She sat down with a quiet sigh, rolling her shoulders like she was trying to shake off the weight of the day. When the bartender approached, he gave the woman her usual drink. A drink the bartender had memorized by how often she came. She took it without hesitation and thanked him by his name. It seemed like they knew each other.
“I haven’t seen you here before,” she said, turning her head to look at Jigen. She turned her glass in slow circles against the bar top. “Are you new?”
“Something like that,” he responded short and quick. The first thing she noticed was the gruffness in his voice.
She hummed, taking a small sip of her drink. “You don’t talk much, do you?”
Jigen turned his head towards her slightly. His jaw slightly tensed. “I talk when there’s something worth saying. Whatever it is that you want, I’m not interested.”
She blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. She leaned back slightly, her expression shifting from friendly curiosity to mild irritation as her eyes pierced the side of his head. She scoffed at him. Did he think that she was coming on to him?
“Well you don’t need to worry, because you aren’t that eye catching either.” She grumbled as she turned her head forward and picked up her drink from the bar top, swirling the cup around in anger. “It was just a simple conversation. You don’t have to act like an ass if you didn’t want to talk.“
It was silent between them. She shifted in her seat, leaning forward with her elbows on the bar, silently stirring her drink. The silence grew heavy, filled only by the faint clinking of ice in her glass and the distant hum of jazz. Jigen stared at his drink, the sharp edge of his earlier words lingering in his mind. Finally, he let out a low sigh, surprising even himself.
“Long days are the worst,” he muttered. He wasn’t sure why he attempted making a conversation all of a sudden. He didn’t want company at all, but something made him told him to at least try. Perhaps he felt sympathy towards the woman? “It makes you want to shoot someone in the face.”
“It’s not so bad, I guess.” She sighed as she gave in to his conversation quickly, rather than to give him the silent treatment. She tilted her head to his direction, studying him for a minute. “You got the look of a guy who’s been through some things though.”
“That supposed to be a compliment?”
“Depends,” she said, smirking. “Some guys wear their troubles well.” Jigen chuckled, low and quiet. Something Jigen had like about her was that she was able to come back with anything he threw at her. She was quick, like a gun.
He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. The songs playing in the background shifted into something slower, something with more soul.
“You a regular here?” Jigen asked.
“Something like that.” She responded with the same response Jigen had given her earlier. She shrugged her shoulders, a finger running against the wood of the counter. “I had a group of friends that came around a lot, but… life gets busy. You?”
“Nah,” he said. “First time here. Someone recommended it.”
“Good taste,” she mused, taking another sip.
He shrugged. “So far.”
For a while, they sat in silence, both lost in their own drinks, their own thoughts. But it wasn’t an uncomfortable silence. There was something easy about sharing space with a stranger who wasn’t looking for anything more than a drink and a moment’s peace.
Eventually, she broke the silence again. “So, do you have a name, or are you one of those mysterious types who prefers to stay nameless?”
Jigen exhaled through his nose, amused. He considered giving a fake name, but something about her made him feel like he didn’t need to play that game tonight.
“Jigen,” he said simply.
She nodded, rolling the name over in her mind. Then, she extended a hand. “Y/n.”
Jigen glanced at her hand for a moment before shaking it briefly. Her grip was firm, not delicate like he expected. He respected that.
“Nice to meet you, Y/n.”
“Likewise, Jigen.”
—————————
Jigen wasn’t sure how long they had been talking. It was strange—he wasn’t usually one for small talk, but with you, the conversation flowed surprisingly well. Maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe it was the way you spoke—easy, confident, with just enough bite to keep things interesting.
Or maybe he just didn’t mind your company.
You had teased Jigen about his mysterious demeanor, calling him a ‘man of few words with too many secrets.’ He smirked, countering that some mystery was better than being an open book. You rolled your eyes playfully and quipped, “So, you’re saying I talk too much?”
Jigen chuckled. “Didn’t say that. But if the shoe fits…”
You gasped dramatically. “I’ll have you know I’m a delight to talk to.”
“Sure,” Jigen drawled, smirking as he took another sip.
You giggled, rolling your empty glass between your fingers. “Are you always this quiet, or are you just trying to be mysterious?”
Jigen smirked, bringing his drink to his lips. “Maybe a little of both.” He eyed you over the rim of his glass. “And what about you? You always this nosy, or just trying to figure me out?”
You laughed, leaning in a little closer. “Oh, you love it.”
Jigen didn’t respond right away. He just took another slow sip of his whiskey, eyes glinting with amusement. Your conversation carried on, the teasing turning into something quieter, more comfortable. Both of you talked about places you had been, people you had met. Jigen, of course, left out the details that would raise too many questions, but it seemed you hadn’t pick up on it.
Neither of you noticed the time. By the time Jigen glanced at the clock behind the bar, the place was nearly empty. The bartender was wiping down the counters, stacking chairs, signaling that closing time was near. Jigen exhaled, setting down his empty glass.
“Damn. Didn’t realize it was this late.”
You blinked, looking around as if you were just noticing the empty bar for the first time. “Huh. I guess we closed the place out.”
Jigen motioned for the bartender, pulling out his wallet. “I got her tab too.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Mine?”
“Yeah.”
You smirked. “You always this generous, or are you just trying to impress me?”
Jigen chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah, just wondering if this is a regular thing for you—getting free drinks off some poor guy.”
You laughed, tilting your head at him. “Oh, absolutely. I do this every night. Works like a charm.”
Jigen smirked, handing the bartender a few bills. “Guess I fell for it, then.”
You grinned. “Sucker.”
As the both of you stepped outside, the air was cooler, the city quieter. The streetlights cast a dim glow over the pavement, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering slightly.
Jigen glanced at you. “Where you headed?”
“Not far,” you said, nodding down the street. “Few blocks.”
Jigen took a moment, then shrugged. “I’ll walk you.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Chivalrous and generous? You’re just full of surprises, Jigen.”
He smirked. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before you start writing poetry about me.”
You smiled, and as you two started walking, you wrapped your arm around his without hesitation. It was casual, natural, like both of you had done this a hundred times before. Jigen stiffened for a second, then let it happen.
He figured for tonight, he didn’t really mind.
The walk to your apartment started lighthearted enough. The easy teasing and banter still lingered between you, but something about the air had shifted. The city was quieter at this hour, the hum of distant traffic the only real noise filling the space between you. For a while, neither of you spoke.
Jigen kept his hands in his pockets, his hat tilted slightly forward, his eyes flicking between you and the sidewalk ahead. Your arm was still loosely wrapped around his, but as the silence stretched, you had let go of his arm.
You had reached your building and Jigen followed you inside. A set of stairs that creaked under both of your weight. The kind of apartment complex that wasn’t fancy but had character. Both of you stopped in front of your apartment door. You turned, leaning against the door slightly, keys dangling from your fingers. Your gaze steady as your eyes met his, eyes searching his face like you were considering something.
“You wanna come in?” You asked.
Jigen hesitated. There was no mistake as the air shifted. The teasing was gone, replaced by something quieter, heavier. It was something that neither of you had to name. Your eyes stayed locked on his, waiting for his answer.
“You sure?” He glanced at the door, then back at you. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to. But he wasn’t the kind of guy to walk through doors without knowing what was waiting on the other side.
You tilted your head slightly, a slow, knowing smile playing at your lips. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
Jigen exhaled through his nose, still weighing the moment. But there was something about the way you looked at him—calm, certain, unwavering.
You weren't inviting him in just to be polite. You wanted him to say yes.
For a brief moment, the space between you felt smaller than it was. The hallway was quiet, the world outside forgotten. A moment that stretched a little too long.
Jigen swallowed, then finally nodded. “Alright.”
You held his gaze for another second before you turned, unlocking the door and pushing it open. Jigen followed you inside.
Jigen stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him. The first thing he noticed was the mess. Papers were scattered across the floor, a chair was tipped over and a few glass shards were on the coffee table. The place wasn’t just cluttered—it was wrecked, like a storm had torn through and left nothing untouched.
His body tensed instinctively, his hand hovering near his pistol. Something was off. He turned to you, expecting some kind of explanation—but you were gone. His stomach twisted.
“Y/n?” His voice was low, cautious. No response. His boots moved across the wooden floor, the sound of each step echoing in the empty apartment. He knew this space. He had been here before. And yet, something about it felt wrong.
His breath hitched when he saw you.
Your back faced him as you stood on the kitchen floor. Your hands raised to your face. Jigen felt something in him twist, a sharp, sinking feeling clawing at his gut. His legs moved on his own, he tried to stop—
And then he realized.
This wasn’t real.
The moment he stepped closer to you, something in his mind clicked.
He was dreaming and he couldn’t wake up.
Jigen clenched his jaw. He wanted to say something, to ask what had happened, to tell you he was here—but the words that came out weren’t his own.
“We can't see each other anymore.” His eyes widened under his hat. No. That wasn’t what he meant to say. His mouth kept moving anyway, the words spilling out like he had no control over them. “You're a distraction.”
Not only was he dreaming, his mind was recalling a memory.
“If that's the case, then you wouldn’t have come at all.” You turned around to face Jigen. Your eyes pierced at his figure, blazing with a fury that seemed to set the air itself on fire. Your eyes were red and glossy as if you told yourself not to cry. "I know you, Jigen. What the hell is going on and why all of a sudden are you pulling away?"
What he couldn’t say—what he wouldn’t say—was the truth. He had overheard a conversation, whispers in the dark. Rivals from his past had found out he spent time here in this city. They were looking, observing, ready to discover any weakness they could use against him. And you were his weakness.
Jigen clenched his jaw, his heart twisting painfully, each beat a drum of regret. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he had to. For your safety. For his own sanity. His fingers brushed against the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket, a habit, a comfort, but he resisted. This wasn’t the time to hide behind smoke.
“Answer me, damn it!” Your voice rose, raw and trembling, your chest heaving with the force of emotion you couldn’t contain. Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, grounding you against the surge of heartbreak.
“How naive are you? You merely mean anything to me, just someone to keep me entertained for a few minutes.” Your eyes widened, disbelief. Your breath hitched, sharp and ragged, as if his words had knocked the air clean from your lungs.
“You’re lying.” you whispered, your voice a fragile thread stretched to the brink of breaking. You stepped back slightly, as if his words had physically struck you, leaving invisible bruises on your heart. You stared at him, your vision blurred with unshed tears, your heart breaking piece by piece. "You don't mean that."
Jigen kept his distance, his expression carved from stone, cold and unyielding, a mask to hide the storm raging behind his dark eyes. He turned on his heel, heading towards the door and you followed behind him.
“I was so stupid to fall in love with you!”
Jigen froze in his tracks, the words slamming into him like a bullet in his chest. His body stiffened as he felt rooted to the spot. He didn’t turn around, but his fist clenched tightly inside his pockets.
You weren’t done. Your voice, filled with a mixture of rage and heartbreak, piercing the space between them. “I feel like a goddamn idiot thinking you wanted something more. Thinking you cared. You kept coming over and over again and here I was, waiting for you like some lap dog. I let myself believe in you, in us!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Jigen caught a faint glare on the window next to him. A subtle, unnatural glare of the sun that didn’t belong. Without turning his head, he spotted a small shadowy figure standing at a distant rooftop. The figure was barely visible against the dusky sky. His heart clenched, he was being followed.
Panic surged within him, coiling tightly around his chest. He had to leave. Now.
Slowly, he reached for his gun. The cold metal, a cruel comfort against his palm. With a swift, practiced motion, he spun around, leveling the barrel of the gun towards you. His face completely covered by his hat.
You quickly shut up as he aimed the pistol at you. Your eyes widening in fear and your breath became uneven and shallow. You stumbled back slowly. Tears started falling more quickly and your hands came forward to gesture to put the gun down. Just as you were about to beg Jigen to stop, his finger pulled the trigger.
A single shot rang out. The sharp sound echoed loudly in the apartment. Then-
Silence.
You felt something hot drench your top. The warmth spreading down your arm rather quickly. You looked and saw your shoulder was covered in blood. The crimson liquid trailed down your arm, pooling on the floor beneath you. Your vision became blurry at the sight. You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at Jigen.
He had shot you.
You didn’t think he was capable of doing something like this. Not to you. You tried to muster out Jigen’s name, but before you could your mind became unconscious and your body dropped down to the wooden floor.
Jigen stood over you, his gun still raised and his heart screaming against the silence. With trembling hands, he tucked away his gun back into the back of his jeans. His gaze lingered on your unconscious body.
Without another word, he turned around and disappeared from the room. He walked down the flight of stairs, each step he took felt heavier than the last. His mind replayed the image of your face. The way you looked at him with fear.
When he had reached the front desk. He cleared his throat, forcing his voice to remain steady. The three clerks at the front desk stopped their conversation to looked up at him.
“There was a gunshot on the third floor. You might want to check it out.”
Each clerk quickly got up. One of them dialing the phone to call for emergencies. The other two rushed out of their seats and ran up the stairs to check on each tenant.
Jigen stepped outside the building. The world dissolved in front of him. Each thing disappeared in front of him until it became nothing but a black void. He couldn’t see his hands, the ground or the sky—just an all-consuming darkness.
Then came the faint, haunting sound of your laughter as it echoed in every direction. The laugh soon morphed into the distant wail of ambulance sirens, growing older, mingling with your fading laugh.
Jigen’s chest tightened with panic. His breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He stumbled forward, reaching out to the sound of your fading voice. The darkness closed in, suffocating him. There was nothing to grasp, nothing to hold onto. He was about to take in his last breath until—
Jigen sat up from the bed. His heart was pounding, his breath uneven. The sheets beneath him were twisted, damp with sweat. The clock on the nightstand blinked at him.
3:47 AM.
He sat there, gripping the edge of the mattress, his head pounding. The weight of the dream sat heavy in his chest, lingering like cigarette smoke in a room with no open windows.
“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, running a hand down his face.
No matter how many times he told himself he did it to protect you. The image of your eyes haunted him every day.
Just finished reading your Jigen fic and oh my gosh it's AMAZING!!! I'm absolutely blown away by the angst, your characterization of Jigen, and the push and pull between him and the reader. What a great read for Jigen angst... It's addicting. I really hope you write another part because holy moly this was wonderful!
I am so honored you loved it <3 I am an angst fanatic and I live for it. I have decided that I will make this story multiple parts and I indeed have plans for this next chapter. All I have to say is, get ready to get your heart strings pulled this weekend.
Minors, please do not interact for the safety of your age and minds.
I'm debating on making this a 3 or 4 part story. I have some one-shot drafts saved and I think it would be a good idea to add to the plot just for the heck of it. Please let me know if you would think it would be good idea.
Gosh, it felt like I was working on this for a long time now. I definitely struggled a bit because writing smut is definitely not up my alley (I actually want to write more smut with other characters, I just get too flustered to do so). I hope that you all enjoy this. <3
The past week had been nothing short of chaotic. Violent storms had rolled through the city, bringing howling winds and relentless downpours that rattled windows and flooded streets. Now, the rain had settled into a steady rhythm, tapping softly against the windows. The power had gone out not too long ago, plunging everything into darkness, but you had come prepared.
You sat on your couch, one leg tucked beneath you, a half-full glass of wine cradled in your hand. The soft flicker of candlelight danced across the room, casting warm, wavering shadows against the walls. Scattered candles surrounded each room—some tall, some short. The glow wasn’t much, but it was enough.
A small sigh left your lips as you sank deeper into the couch. You swirled the wine in your glass, watching the candlelight catch in its deep red hue. Your mind was elsewhere—on him.
You remembered the night you met Jigen, months ago, in a small, dimly lit bar not too far from here. You walked in for a distraction after a long day and that’s when you saw him—sitting alone at the counter, his hat tilted just enough to cast a shadow over his sharp features, a half-empty glass in front of him.
Something about him intrigued you. Maybe it was the air of quiet danger that surrounded him, the way he carried himself—calm, calculated, but with a restlessness lurking just beneath the surface. Or maybe it was just the way he didn’t immediately push you away when you slid onto the barstool next to him.
At first, the conversation between you two had been simple, but as the night went on the alcohol loosened your words. The tension had shifted. Both of you leaned in closer, exchanged slow, knowing glances, the pull between you undeniable. By the time you left the bar, the attraction had already taken hold.
You sighed, setting your glass down on the coffee table as you leaned back against the couch. you weren't naïve. You knew what you were getting involved—better yet—who you were getting involved with when you met Jigen. He had made it clear from the start that it didn’t mean anything. And yet, here you were thinking about him.
Ever since that first encounter, Jigen would show up every now and then, sometimes announcing his arrival and never making promises. It became a habit of his—this unspoken routine. He never had a reason for coming, or at least not one he’d say out loud.
You would sit together, talk over drinks. Sometimes, it was about nothing. Pointless, sarcastic banter here and there. Other times, it was heavier, though never too much. Jigen wasn’t the type to lay it all out on the table, and you never pressed him to.
As the drinks kept coming and the night stretched on, the space between you would shrink. A fleeting touch, a lingering glance—until words no longer mattered, and both of you found yourselves tangled between the sheets once again.
But no matter how many times it happened, no matter how familiar the warmth of his body became, the ending was always the same. Before the sunrise crept through the window, Jigen would be gone.
You were so deep in thought that your phone buzzed on the coffee table, breaking the silence in the air. You didn't have to look at the screen to know who was calling you at this hour. Jigen always had a way of timing his calls perfectly. Not too soon that you wouldn't miss him, but not too late that you would forget him. You picked up your phone with your free hand.
"Yeah?" You answered, keeping your voice steady. It was very strange to receive calls from Jigen. The only times that he would ever call is to see if you were available. Most of the time, he would shoot you small texts every now and then to see how you were doing.
"Where are you?" His raspy voice carried that usual nonchalance, but you know that there was a hint of something unspoken. Your heart began to race at the thought of him coming over.
"You know the address," You replied, swirling your wine in front of your face with your other hand. "You plan on stopping by?"
"That depends. Got anything to drink?" You smirked as you looked over to the countertop of your kitchen. On top sat Jigen's favorite bottle of whiskey, fully displayed to anyone who came to visit.
"Always."
---------------
An hour had passed and Jigen was at your door. His hat hovering over his eyes as always. His dark suit jacket slightly stained with raindrops from the pouring rain that was happening outside. He smelt like straight cigarettes, gunpowder and musk. You weren't sure why, but his scent drove you over the wall every time.
“You’re late.” You said, leaning against the doorframe with a glass filled with whiskey.
“I didn't realize that I was on a schedule,” Jigen replied, his tone frank. He stepped past you without waiting for an invitation, grabbing the drink from your hands and downing it in one go. He made his way over to your counter immediately after.
You watched with your arms now crossed. "You always invite yourself in like this?"
Jigen smirked, setting the glass down to pour himself another drink. He removed his gun than hanged on his belt. The metal clanged against the marble counter, his back facing you. "Would you have opened the door if I didn't?"
You rolled your eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it. Walking over behind him, you placed your hands on his shoulders. You felt the warmth beneath his damped jacket. He didn't tense—not anymore.
The first time you met Jigen, he had been stiff as steel, wary, always ready to pull his gun at the slightest shift in the air. Now, his shoulders were looser, his posture less guarded. He let you touch him without saying a word.
“Relaxed, huh?” you murmured, fingers brushing over the fabric.
Jigen let out a low chuckle. “Guess I figured out you’re not planning to put a bullet in my back.”
You leaned in slightly, your chest against his back. “Depends on the day.”
He huffed in amusement, tipping his glass back for another sip. The silence stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The rain kept falling outside, the dim candlelight flickering over the whiskey in his hand.
You slid your hands up and down his arms, gripping the sleeves of his jack soon not too long after. You tugged at the damped fabric of his coat. Jigen didn’t protest as you pulled it off of him, setting it aside on the counter.
You ran a hand down his arm. “So, how was your day?” Then, after a pause, “If it’s too gory, don’t tell me.”
Jigen huffed out a chuckle, shaking his head. He knew you weren't really comfortable hearing about all his stories that contain gruesome details. Last time he shared a bit too much that it made you nauseous. “Nah, nothing too bad.” He grabbed his glass again, rolling the whiskey inside before taking another sip. “Just wasted a whole damn week planning out a heist, only to find out Lupin’s been running it behind our backs.”
You raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Jigen smirked dryly. He turned around to face you, placing his hands on your hips. His thumbs brushing over the fabric of your shorts softly. “Turns out he’s been doing it just to hand everything over to Fujiko.”
Your fingers froze on his sleeves, your gaze falling down to the floor. Of course.
You stepped back, crossing your arms. “Should’ve figured.”
Jigen let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah. Should’ve known better. But y’know, sometimes you forget just how deep Lupin’s got it for her.”
Your eyes followed back up to his direction. “So, what now?”
Jigen's lips twitched into something between amusement and exasperation. “Dunno. Maybe I’ll finally learn my lesson.”
You smirked, as you reached to remove Jigen's hat off of his head. You placed it on top of his jacket. “Doubt it.”
“Yeah… me too.” He chuckled. His eyes trailed up and down your figure. You had on an old white T-shirt that was a bit too oversize on your form. Just below, were some shorts that were a bit too high. He wondered if you were freezing due to the weather. “You’re looking good.” His voice low and almost teasing.
“Yeah, well, I had a feeling you'd show up.” You wrapped your arms around his neck. You leaned forward to press your body against his. His body heat warm against yours. "So," you started. “Why’d you come over?”
Jigen barely blinked at the question. “A guy can’t stop by for a drink?”
You scoffed. “You’ve got a million places to drink, Jigen. You chose here.”
Jigen's hands gripped your hips as he gave you a lazy smirk. “Maybe I just like your whiskey.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You didn’t even ask what kind it was before pouring it.”
“Guess I trust your taste.”
You exhaled through your nose, shaking your head. “You’re avoiding the question.”
Jigen's hands slowly slid up from your hips to your waist. His cold, rough hands going underneath your shirt. Your breath slightly hitched at the feeling of his hands touching your warm skin. Jigen's gaze flicking away for half a second before settling back on her. “Maybe I just wanted a quiet place to think.”
You studied him for a long moment. “Uh-huh. You could’ve done that anywhere.”
“Could’ve.” He leaned his head close to yours. “Didn’t.”
You didn’t push further. Instead, you leaned in slightly as well, tilting your head up at him. “You know, Jigen, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you like my company.”
Jigen exhaled, his voice smooth, almost amused. “Careful, doll. You keep this up, and people’ll start getting ideas.”
You smirked, tilting your head. “What people?”
He chuckled lowly, the sound vibrating between you. “You, for one.”
You dragged your fingers through his hair just slightly, feeling the way his hands flexed against your waist in response. “I don’t know, Jigen. You came to me if I remember correctly.”
Jigen’s smirk deepened, but his voice remained level. “Relax, Y/n. There ain’t anything going on here.”
The teasing tone in your expression faltered for just a second before you covered it with a wry smile. Deep down, you knew that you had fallen deep for the gunman. “Right. Of course not.” You sighed through your nose, shaking your head as you leaned in closer, your lips close enough to his. “You are a real piece of work, Jigen.”
He grinned. “Takes one to know one.”
The air between you was thick, charged with something unspoken but understood. You watched him, your fingers still tingling from where they had brushed through his hair. Jigen hadn’t moved away. He stood there, watching you with that same unreadable expression, his hands on your waist as if he wasn't going to let go.
Your lips met in a slow, deliberate kiss, the kind that made your breath hitch. He tasted like whiskey and smoke, warm and familiar. Jigen wasn’t in a rush, but there was an edge to it, something controlled yet hungry. His beard brushed against your skin, and you sighed into his mouth, pressing closer.
He took that as permission.
His hands slid to your back, fingers spreading firm over the curve of your hips before gripping just enough to make your pulse spike. Then, without warning, he lifted you off the floor.
A small gasp left your lips as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist. Jigen’s smirk was brief, swallowed in the next kiss as he carried you effortlessly through the apartment.
You barely registered the way he maneuvered you towards the bedroom, too caught up in the warmth of his body, the slow, teasing drag of his lips against yours.
You broke away just enough to murmur against his mouth, “I'm guessing this is what you actually came here for.”
Jigen chuckled, low and deep. “You wound me, doll. I had intentions to see you as well.” He kissed you again, slow and un-rushed, like he had all the time in the world. Between kisses, he added. "I have to check if you were doing okay and well."
If it weren't for the situation you were in or how sexually frustrated you had gotten, you wouldn't have let that slide and asked what he meant by that. Jigen really confused you every time he sweet talked you. You had always assumed it was the alcohol that made him say things. It made you ponder what was really going between you two or if he even saw anything in you rather than just a quick rendezvous.
He let your fingers tangle in his hair again, tilting his head slightly so you could bite at his lower lip. “You really know how to keep me on my toes.”
Jigen exhaled sharply, his grip on you tightening before he caught your mouth again. The kiss was hotter this time, edged with something reckless.
The bedroom door creaked open behind them, but Jigen didn’t slow down. He stepped inside without hesitation, his hands adjusting his hold on you, pressing you closer against him. The feel of him—solid, warm, steady—made your pulse quicken.
Then, without a word, he lowered you onto the bed.
You barely had time to catch your breath before Jigen followed, his body hovering over yours. Jigen exhaled a quiet laugh before capturing your lips again, his weight pressing just enough to keep you beneath him but not completely pinned. His hands roamed, slow and deliberate, fingers tracing all over, feeling every curve.
The kisses deepened, rougher now, laced with something he normally kept buried. His beard scratched against her skin as he moved from your lips down to your jaw, then lower, his breath hot against your throat.
You sighed, your hands trailing over to his chest to undo the buttons of his dress shirt. His dress shirt was opened, but wasn't removed fully. Your hands explored from his chest and down to his abdomen then back up. Jigen hummed against her skin, lips trailing back up until your mouths met again. His hands splayed on your hips as he rocked his hips against yours just enough to tease.
His fingers gripped the hem of your shorts and pulled them slowly down your legs. Your breath hitched as your shorts came off, the feeling of the cold air hitting the rest of your legs. His hand lowered down in between your legs. Your heartbeat and your breath quickened as his thumb drew slow, small circles on your clothed cunt. Your eyes rolled back, releasing a shaky breath.
"Well don't you just paint the prettiest picture." He commented as he started to speed up the pace in his thumb. You could only respond with a soft moan as moved hips against his thumb trying to add more friction. He decided to give you a few more strokes before he removed his hand, making you look up at him as he stopped. He pulled down your panties, discarding them to a random corner.
He got up to pull down his pants and took out his cock from his boxers. He had adjusted himself above you, aligning himself against you. He rubbed his tip at your entrance. His eyes drifted up to your flushed face, your eyes staring into his as well.
Jigen slowly pushed his cock deep inside you, making you tilt your head back against the pillow. Your back arched as you feel every inch of him stretching you out. Once he thought you had adjusted to him, he started to move his hips gently. He took a hold of your hand and pinned it right above you.
"Damn, you just feel even better every time I come." Jigen sighed as he slightly picked up the pace, your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him closer. With his other hand, he gripped the bottom of your thigh, bringing it over his shoulder to get a better angle. You whimpered as the new position hit your sweet spot. "I think I might have to keep you all to myself. Can't have others knowing how you feel. It might just drive me crazy."
“You think I have other men come over?" you retorted breathlessly. “You’re the only person who shows up unannounced and never tells me why.”
Jigen’s lips twitched in what might have been the beginning of a smile, but it didn’t fully form. He leaned his head in the crook of your neck, his breathing warm. “And you’re the one who keeps letting me in.”
“And you’re the one who keeps coming back,” You shot back. “Funny how that works, huh?”
He removed his head from your neck to look at you. His dark eyes glaring at you, sending a shiver down your spine. He pulled his hips back, the tip of his cock was the only thing inside. Your eyes widened, as you realized he wasn't going to move. You groaned in frustration, you tried to pull him closer, but Jigen held his guard. You cursed wanting more. He looked at you and laughed.
"What's wrong, doll? Don't got a mouth on you all of a sudden?” Jigen murmured, his voice low and teasing against your ear. “You never know how to use it properly when it counts.”
You scoffed. Though the sharp retort you meant to throw at him died on your tongue as he shoved himself deep inside of you again, just enough to make you gasp. Jigen kept a small antagonizing rhythm that made you whimper for more.
“Come on,” he drawled, smirking as he watched you squirm beneath him. “You want more? Ask for it.”
You glared up at him, stubborn as ever, refusing to give in so easily. But when he slowed down—teasing you—dragging out every little movement until it was unbearable, you felt your pride waver.
Your fingers curled against his back, nails pressing just enough to make him suck in a breath. “Please fuck me.”
“That’s more like it,” he muttered, voice rough as he finally gave you what you wanted. His hips picking up the pace. Your whimpers turned into lewd moans as his cock brushed against you.
The teasing edge faded as your bodies moved together, the tension giving way to something deeper, something all-consuming. Your breaths mingled, heavy moans and low groans filling the space between you. Jigen placed his forehead against yours.
The rain pattered softly against the window, a steady rhythm that filled the quiet gaps in between. The dim light of the candles casted flickering shadows across the room, your bodies moving in sync, lost in the heat of the moment. Jigen’s breath came in short, ragged exhales, low and uneven as he got closer, his usual composure unraveling with each desperate thrust.
Soft moans slipped past your lips, your voice mixing with the deep, gravelly grunts Jigen let out. The sound of your bodies moving together, the creak of the mattress beneath you, the faint rustle of sheets—it all blended with the rain outside.
His movements grew uneven and violent, his usual control slipping as he got closer, his breaths coming rough and unsteady against your skin. You could feel everything—every tense shift of his body, every desperate push, the primal need for release and the way he held onto you. The closer you reached your climax, the more you wanted.
Your own pleasure was building fast as well, warmth spreading through your limbs as you clung to him. Every motion he made sent a spark through you, coiling tighter and tighter until you could barely hold on. Jigen’s grip on your hand tightened, his forehead pressing briefly against yours, a low curse slipping past his lips.
You felt a snap, heat washing over you as your body arched into his. For a few long, breathless seconds, nothing else existed—just the feeling, the release, the overwhelming bliss that left you trembling in his arms. Jigen followed soon after, his movements turning sloppy, a deep groan escaping him as he let himself go. His weight pressed against you as his breathing slowed, both of you tangled in the aftershock.
Your breaths were heavy, the heat between you still lingering in the air. You laid beneath him, your chest rising and falling. Jigen hovered just above you, one hand still holding on to your hand, the other brushing against your thigh as if debating whether to pull away or stay. Their eyes met—intense. There was something unspoken between them, thick with tension, neither willing to be the first to break it.
Jigen reached up from your thigh, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face with a touch so uncharacteristically gentle that it made your chest tighten. It was stupid, really—how easily he could make you feel something without saying a damn word.
Then, just as quickly, the moment was gone.
With a quiet sigh, he rolled off you, shifting to the edge of the bed. His movements were slow, deliberate, as he reached in his pocket of the dress shirt he still had on. He pulled a cigarette and a lighter, lighting it as he took a slow drag. The glow of the ember briefly illuminated his face, highlighting the sharp angles of his features, the crease of thought between his brows.
You turned on your side, watching him through heavy-lidded eyes.
Jigen always insisted that this—whatever it was—meant nothing. That there could never be a thing between you. But the way he looked at you just now? The way he lingered?
It told a different story.
You wanted to ask. To press him on it.
But the weight of the night, the warmth still thrumming in your limbs, made it impossible to think straight. Before you realized it, your thoughts blurred together, your eyelids growing heavy.
Jigen took another slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling a thin stream of smoke as he glanced over at you. You were already asleep.
You laid tangled in the sheets, your breathing soft and steady and your body relaxed in sleep. The room was dim, the city lights outside casting faint patterns against the walls. Jigen sat at the edge of the bed, already picking up his clothes from the ground, watching you for a moment.
You looked peaceful.
The same woman who could challenge him with a single smirk, who never let him get away with his usual bullshit—right now, you were completely at ease. Vulnerable in a way he rarely saw.
He exhaled quietly and ran a hand down his face.
This was exactly why he should’ve kept things simple.
Jigen stood, careful not to make a sound as he grabbed his shirt and jacket. He slipped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him without a sound.
He moved through the space, grabbing his hat and jacket from where they had landed on. His gun rested on the counter, next to his half-finished glass of whiskey. He picked them up with practiced ease, ready to slip out like he’d never been here at all.
But something caught his eye.
A small framed picture sat on the counter, next to the sofa.
Jigen paused.
It was a picture of you.
You were standing beside a bride, dressed in an elegant light blue dress that hugged your frame just right. Your hair was styled different—softer, more refined—and you were smiling. Really smiling. Not the usual sharp, teasing smirk you threw his way, not the guarded expressions you wore like armor.
No. This was different.
Pure. Carefree. Happy.
Jigen found himself staring longer than he meant to.
He knew you—at least, he thought he did. He knew how and why you moved away, how you fought, how you could talk your way out of just about anything. He knew how you smirked when you were lying, how your eyes narrowed when you were pissed.
As he looked at the picture, he realized he barely knew anything about your life—before him, before the mess he got with you. And yet, here was a glimpse of it. A world where you looked like you belonged to something stable. Something good.
Something that wasn’t him.
His fingers hovered over the frame for a second. Then, almost without thinking, he took it. Slipped it right into his jacket pocket. Would you notice? Maybe. Would you call him out on it? Definitely.
But Jigen didn’t care.
He wasn’t sentimental—he sure as hell wasn't the type to take the damn photo like a lovesick idiot—but something about this picture… something about you looking so damn happy…
He wanted to keep it.
Just for himself. Just for when he wasn’t here.
Jigen adjusted his hat, exhaled slowly, and left without another sound, disappearing into the rain-soaked night.
No goodbyes. No second thoughts. Just the familiar routine of slipping away before morning.
hi, are you still doing requests for Lupin the 3rd characters.
Hello! Yes, I am currently taking requests for any Lupin the Third characters! I was a bit busy trying to balance writing with work. Now that I found a flow, I will definitely post a lot more ASAP! If you have any requests, feel free to drop them off or message me and I will get started right away! <3
First actual post here. I definitely will be making more one-shots for each character. If you have any requests, please feel free to let me know. Or you can criticize if you feel tangy enough. Both are good. 👍
Bruno Mars was on loop the whole time making this, by the way.
It had been a few months since you and Lupin had made it official. The chemistry between you was undeniable—unstoppable, even. Things between you had been great—exciting, thrilling, and yet stable. Your relationship had grown in unexpected ways, with each passing day only solidifying the bond you shared. You had never imagined yourself dating someone any time soon, much less with someone like Lupin. However, the longer you two spent together, the more you found yourself drawn to him. His charm, his wit, the way he always seemed to be in control—it all worked, and it had found a rhythm, a kind of balance, that neither you two had experienced before.
You had always known that Lupin’s past was full of adventure, romance, and past relationships. But nothing could have prepared you for the conversation Jigen and Goemon were having late at night. You had left the room you shared with Lupin, sneeking past both of them trying to grab a glass of water. Somehow you were able to bypass them without them knowing you had entered. They had been sitting on a couch in an old cabin, talking about Lupin’s past heists, when they started sharing stories about his ex-lover, Fujiko. The way they spoke of her, the admiration Lupin had for her, the laughter, the moments of tension—it all seemed so vivid to them, so important to Lupin. It wasn’t just stories of their past; it was as if they were remembering an era in time that was special.
“Man, I can’t believe Lupin finally moved on from Fujiko.” Jigen had remarked with a cigarette in his mouth.
Goemon, ever the stoic one, had only nodded. “Yeah, I thought for sure he’d be chasing after her forever. You know how much she meant to him.”
Jigen leaned back on the couch, a chuckle escaping his lips. “Yeah, I remember the times. All the crazy things he did to impress her. Like that time he… what was it again? Stole the crown jewels of Monaco just to win her favor?”
“Yeah, and the way she would toy with him,” Goemon added, a hint of amusement in his normally serious voice. “I think Lupin was more of a pawn in her games than anything else.”
You were frozen, your mind spinning with their words, the implications. You had known about Fujiko, of course—Lupin had never made a secret about this. You never had any problems the days she showed up. She was definitely beautiful, a beauty any man or woman admires. She was surprising kind towards you as well. You had seen the way she talked towards the others and it was not nearly as close to the way she was with you.
It had taken Jigen a couple of days to get familiar with you and Goemon just a few more. They had honestly thought you were just some sort of fling that would last for a week. Someone Lupin would try to impress and spoil. As you appeared more every week, the more they realized how serious Lupin was with you.
You had always known Lupin had a complicated relationship with Fujiko, but hearing it from Jigen and Goemon and the stories they reminisced triggered a deep insecurity. Could you ever live up to the memory of someone so important to him? Were you just a distraction, a brief detour in his ongoing obsession with Fujiko?
You tried to brush it aside, but the seed of insecurity had been planted. Fujiko was more than a rival; she was the one Lupin couldn’t quit, no matter how many times she played him, betrayed him, or left him. You couldn’t escape the feeling that, in Lupin’s heart, she would always be a shadow—someone he would never truly forget. You quickly left and walked back to the bedroom, not realizing that Jigen and Goemon had been talking about how different, yet honorable you were rather than Lupin's past taste in women.
For the first few days, you found yourself avoided Lupin’s gaze. Other moments, you kept your distance with him, making sure you were at least a few feet away from Lupin. As the days went by, you had become increasingly distant. You would make excuses to avoid Lupin. You had made the excuse saying you weren’t feeling well. He responded saying he would gladly take care of you. You panicked and said that you had something worse than just a stomach bug and it was best to distance yourself for now. You packed your essentials with some cash and decided to check in to a hotel for now. Lupin decided to visit you regardless. When he had arrived to your house, you were no where to be found. He knew there was something up with you now.
He had never been particularly serious about anyone before—at least, not in the way he was with you. He was certain that his feelings for you were genuine and not some sort of lust driven craziness. But now, with you pulling away, he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something he wasn’t seeing. Lupin decided to take matters in his own hands.
A week had passed since and he decided to call you to take you out to dinner. You had made another excuse saying your friend got injured in a severe accident and needed help. Little to your knowledge, the whole phone call had been a set up. With the help of Jigen, he was able to track down the location of your phone with just one call. Lupin wasted no time and rushed over to your location.
It didn’t take him long to arrive at the hotel you were currently staying. He approached the door and knocked. His knock was firm, but not aggressive. A few moments passed before the door swung open. You stood there, eyes wide, surprised to see him standing there with a grin. “Did someone call for room service?” He said teasingly.
“What are you doing here, Lupin?” Your voice was cautious, guarded. Lupin stepped inside the room and inspected it. There had been a few tissues on the ground. The bed was undone and the curtains almost covered the window, making the room slightly dim. Something that caught his eye was the giant bottle of liquor sitting on the nightstand. It was nearly finished. Something was definitely up and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
“I think you know why I’m here,” Lupin said, his voice laced with determination. You closed the door behind you. He turned around to look at you. Your face was slightly flushed. You weren't sure if it was because you had been caught red-handed or if the alcohol was slowly kicking in. His brows furrowed. “You're making excuses every time I try to see you.”
Your stomach twisted as your eyes flicked away from his. You didn’t want to admit the truth and confront your insecurities. You bit your lip, shifting on your feet. “No, I’ve just been... feeling under the weather,” you said weakly, hoping he’d drop it.
But Lupin wasn’t fooled. He placed his hands inside the pocket of his dress pants, standing his ground. “If pops ever caught you, he could easily see through the lies you make when being interrogated. There’s something you aren’t telling me and I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s really going on.”
You hesitated. You didn’t want to tell him what had been bothering you, but the weight of the truth was already pulling you down. You were unsure of how to explain the knot of insecurity twisting in your chest. You wanted to say something, anything, to make sense of what you were feeling. You took a deep breath and looked away, not wanting to see his reaction. “It’s just... you and Fujiko,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.
Lupin’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Fujiko?”
You nodded, your insecurity growing. “You and her... you were so... close. I just—” Your voice trembled as you spoke. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that helped you open up so easily or the bottled up emotions that were hidden for so long. “I know you and her had something. You were... close. I can’t help but feel like I’m just... not enough. I feel like a distraction for you, Lupin.”
Lupin’s eyes softened with understanding. His puzzled look slowly vanishing as you spoke. He hadn’t seen this side of you before—this vulnerability, this quiet fear that you would never measure up. He took your hand, his thumb brushing the back of your palm. “You are no Fujiko, I’ll tell you that.” You felt your heart squeeze as you heard those words come out of his mouth. “You two are complete opposites, like Fire and Water. Sure the fire can be hot to the touch and mesmerizing to look at, but I think the water is mesmerizing to look at as well and doesn’t cause chaos wherever it goes.”
“Gee, thanks for that comparison.” You pulled away from his grip and walked over to your bed, sitting on the edge. Lupin followed and sat right next to you. “I just... I don’t feel like I can compare to her. Hell, I am not like her. I’m not... as clever as she is, or as beautiful... I’m just... not enough.”
You continued to rant to him about your insecurities. Lupin sat there as your words were sinking in. He never knew how badly it had affected you. He was very observant about every little detail that came his way. Why couldn’t he have seen the signs before? His only conclusion was that he was too preoccupied these past weeks to see and plan the next big heist.
Lupin was silent before he reached out for your hand again, gently pulling it toward him. His touch was warm, tender, as if trying to reassure you without words. But he didn’t speak. Instead, he leaned in and kissed the back of your hand, letting his lips linger on your soft skin. He felt the tremor in your hand, the uncertainty running through you.
He continued to kiss your hand softly over and over again. You immediately stopped talking as you looked at his gesture. You raised your eyebrow in confusion. “What are you doing?” You asked as you pulled your hand away from him again.
“Reassuring you.” He replied to your question. He grabbed your hand once more and placed a kiss on your palm, holding it there for a moment. He could feel your pulse racing under his lips.
“I’m not like her,” You sighed, your frustration bubbling. You felt as if Lupin wasn’t taking it seriously. “I’m not as clever, as beautiful, as... unforgettable as she is. I can’t compete with that, not even that close.” You spat, your voice filled with bitterness. Lupin started to trail kisses up your arm all the way to your shoulders.
Lupin was determined to show you how wrong you were, began kissing your collarbone, his lips grazing across your skin. He moved further up and lifted your chin. He started trailing kisses over your neck and towards your jaw. You started to get irritated and placed your hands on his shoulders trying to push him away. “Stop it, Lupin. I need you to listen to me.”
He placed kiss on your forehead, in between your eyebrows, then your nose. “How about you don't focus on her? Focus on us, on right now.” He kissed your cheek, your other cheek, then your chin. Each kiss was a promise to him, a reassurance that you were the only one in his heart.
“I can't,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I just-“ Lupin didn’t let you finish as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. You were caught off guard by this. Lupin always managed to catch you off guard no matter what. His lips brushed against yours with such care. It was soft and tender, as if he wanted you to open up. You were hesitant, but gave in to the kiss slowly. You pulled away a bit after. “Lupin, I need to—”
His lips came down on yours again, this time slow and deliberate. His tongue tracing the line of your bottom lip before slipping past it. You gasped, the sensation of his tongue against yours sending a rush of heat through your body. Your hands grasped his shoulders, pulling him closer, but at the same time, your mind screamed at to say something—to stop this before it went too far.
“Lupin, stop... I’m trying to—”You tried to pull away. Your frustration rising each second, but so did a strange thrill. “Lupin, I—” But Lupin was already kissing you again, his mouth firm, overpowering yours. You tried to push him away, but it was no use.
Your hands instinctively pushed against his chest, but Lupin wasn’t giving you space. His hands slid around your waist, pushing you down on the bed slowly. He didn’t break the connection as he towered over you, placing his legs on each side, pinning you in place. “I’m going to kiss you until you can't think anymore.” He said with a grin.
“Lupin, I’m serious!” You tried to pushed him again, but your words were lost in a fierce kiss. Each kiss he gave you, felt more demanding than the previous one. Your frustration mixed with something else.
You were annoyed—annoyed that he kept interrupting you, annoyed that he wasn’t letting you say what was on your mind. But there was also something irresistibly endearing about it. Lupin wasn’t giving you the chance to doubt, to voice your insecurities. He was showing you instead—showing you just how much he loves and cares about you.
He grinned into your mouth, that devilish spark in his eyes. “I don’t think you are. I think you just want me to kiss you.” His voice was low, teasing, as if he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. Another kiss, this one softer, as he nipped at your bottom lip before pulling back just enough to smirk. He gave you that grin that made your heart do flips. His voice was full of that teasing charm that it made you weak in the knees every time. “I told you, I’m going to kiss you until you stop worrying about Fuji-cakes. Besides, I think it’s working, so why stop?”
You couldn’t help but laugh—a soft, breathless chuckle that escaped your lips. "You’re unbelievable," you muttered against his mouth, your hands now resting on his chest. You felt your body start to respond, the heat between you two rising with every second. Your breath coming faster as each kiss became deep. You couldn’t deny him anymore. The passion, the heat, the connection—it was undeniable and Lupin wasn’t planning on stopping.
Lupin simply grinned against your lips, his eyes glinting with mischief. “And you’re still talking," he whispered against your mouth, before kissing you again. His lips were softer now, almost teasing, like he was savoring the moment, drawing it out longer.
A smile was creeping onto your face as you fought to catch your breath. “I’m going to kill you for this,” you murmured, but your words were slurred.
Lupin smiled, his lips hovering just over yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “I doubt that because I know you’re enjoying this too much.”
His lips crashed against yours again, the kiss no longer soft or playful. The kiss grew more urgent, more desperate, more raw and full of hunger. It was if both of you were trying to make up for the lost time these past weeks. Lupin’s hands worked their way down to your hips. his touch possessive yet gentle, as though he were trying to tell you everything without saying a word. You responded in kind, your hands on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. You felt your frustration slip away as you gave up, your resistance crumbling in the face of his kiss.
For a moment, there was nothing else—no past, no insecurities, no ghosts of people who had come before. There was only the quiet, overwhelming presence of the person in front of you.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, your faces inches apart, foreheads lightly resting against one another. Your chest rose and fell in quick succession, your heart racing as you tried to process the flood of emotions rushing through you.
Lupin’s eyes were soft, intense, his breath mingling with hers. “Y/n,” he said softly, his voice a low rasp, “you don’t have to be perfect. In fact, I happen to love just about every little thing about you. It's what really makes me crazy about you. I just need you to be here with me.”
You looked deep into his eyes. Lupin was a known to be a flirt everywhere he goes. He can say just about anything to get a woman's knees weak. When you had met Lupin, he tried every trick in the book to make you swoon. Some worked, others not so much. You would never admit it, but you did enjoy the attention he threw your way. However, what made you fall deep was how caring and loving he could be behind his ego and charm. Whether if it was in the moment or behind closed doors, he appreciated you like if you were on of rarest treasure in the planet.
And in that moment, you understood. It wasn’t about being anyone other than who you were. It wasn’t about competing with anyone from the past. It was about this—about what was happening now, between you. A connection that couldn’t be denied.
With a small, shaky breath, you leaned in again, this time with no hesitation. You had let yourself be pulled into the kiss, into the warmth of Lupin’s embrace, into the present. The world outside didn’t matter anymore. All that mattered was this moment, this quiet, intimate space that had carved out for yourselves. He pulled away with a genuine smile on his face.
"How about I take you to that dinner I talked about earlier? You can get ready here and I will wait right here for you." Lupin commented as one of his hand reached over to play with your hair. "By the looks of your hair, I can tell you need a shower." He teased.
You smack his shoulder as you chuckled. When you had agreed, both of you got up from the bed. He strolled over to the couch in the corner of the hotel as you walked over to the closet and pulled out a towel. You headed towards the bathroom, only to turn around to look at him. You had a smile, but your eyes clearly hinted something more. "Join me?"
