#this is a JOKE. take it in the spirit it was intended
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F1 as Toxic Affirmations 💫(affirmations courtesy of @/power.of.self.care)
#this is a JOKE. take it in the spirit it was intended#if you get mad thats on you etc so HAPPY RACEWEEK im posting part 2 in the next 30 minutes bc im not done yet#f1#daniel ricciardo#lewis hamilton#lando norris#max verstappen#ferrari#christian horner#mattia binotto#zak brown#alpine#Fernando Alonso
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A Spilled Drink
Summary: After a mission gone wrong Y/n believes Loki hates her. Does he really hate her? Or does he simply hate to love her?
Warnings: Smutty smut smut, barely a plot, 18+, minors DNI
Loki x fem!reader
A/N: I started writing this around Christmas time, hence the mistletoe reference lol
“You look like you could use this,” Nat says as she hands me a glass.
“What is it?”
“A drink, cectpa. I think you could use it.”
I nodded and downed the liquid, wincing as it burned my throat. She smirked at me and I rolled my eyes. “Straight Vodka?”
“I’m Russian,” she chuckles before signaling the bartender. “Another.”
The bartender placed another drink in front of us as Nat spoke. “So what exactly happened with you and Loki?”
I scoffed. “He’s an arrogant asshole.”
“Well, that much we knew but what happened.”
“He got hurt after a mission and he’s hated me ever since.”
“He hurts you because he got hurt?” she scoffed.
“I don’t know, Nat… it’s the only thing that makes sense. He must blame me for his injuries.”
Nat rolled her eyes. “He needs to get over himself. What happened on that mission was not your fault.”
A glass is placed on the counter next to us as the bartender nods. “I’ll have another one coming up in just a moment, Mr. Laufeyson.”
Loki nodded before turning his gaze to me. “Y/l/n,” he greeted.
“Laufeyson,” I replied.
Before I could say anything more I heard Wanda giggling next to Natasha and I turned to her. “What’ve you done now?”
She looked up and I dreaded what was to come for I had a slight inkling as to what she had done. I looked up and my eyes met a mistletoe hanging above our heads. The red berries were glowing as the green vines moved as if they’d just been placed above our heads.
“What is this, witch?” Loki hissed, glaring daggers at Wanda.
“You know, Loki,” Wanda replied, chuckling as she sipped her drink. “Kiss her!”
I rolled my eyes.
“Honestly, Maximoff, of all the jokes you could've pulled today… this little act of trickery is poor even for you.”
I could see his cheeks flushing a hint of pink as he maintained his cold demeanor.
“Oh, come on, Laufeyson! Get in the Christmas spirit! Just kiss her!” Nat exclaimed.
“I will not!”
I rolled my eyes. “I will not be forced to kiss him!”
I saw Wanda wiggle her fingers ever so slightly and Loki’s drink poured over my dress.
“Loki!” I hissed before turning to Wanda. “Wanda!”
She raised her hands innocently. “What? I did nothing!”
“Apologies, Agent Y/l/n!” Loki exclaimed. He conjured a cloth and began dabbing my shoulders. “It’s all over your dress… I’m truly very sorry, love.”
I furrowed my brows at the sudden change in his demeanor.
“Please, allow me to escort you back to your room so you can get out of that dress. I-I’m truly sorry about this, Y/n.”
“It’s fine, honestly.” I brushed him off. “You don’t need to-.”
“She’d love that!” Wanda interrupted, pushing me closer to Loki. I glared at her but she simply smiled in return.
“But before you go…” Once again she gestured to the mistletoe above our heads. I rolled my eyes, preparing to walk away, but Loki had other plans. He grabbed my face and pulled me flush against his chest, pressing his lips to mine. His kiss was rough and his hands were merciless as they moved down my body, grabbing every bit of exposed flesh they could.
“Holy hell, Laufeyson,” I whispered breathlessly as we pulled away from the kiss. He said nothing and simply held out his hand before leading me to my room… at least I thought that’s where he was leading me but once we turned left instead of right I realized that’s not what was happening.
“Where are you taking me?”
“We’re just taking a little detour,” he assured me as we reached his room. “You can leave anytime you want,” he promised as he shut the door behind us and pressed my body against it.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“I promised I would help you get out of this dress… I intend to make good on my word. As soon as I saw you soaking wet in this dress I couldn't resist.
I scoffed. “That’s how you solve all your problems, isn’t it? By fucking your way out of them.”
He chuckled darkly. “Don’t tell me you haven’t thought about it… late at night when you’re alone with nothing but your hand.” His fingers slowly moved down my side, reaching under my dress. “You can’t tell me your fingers haven’t slipped beneath your skirts to soothe that delicious little ache between your legs, hm?” He pressed his thumb to my clothed clit. “Tell me you haven’t imagined my hands down there… my tongue… my cock.”
“Fuck, Loki.”
His cock twitched in his trousers. “That’s it, darling. Moan my name.”
He pulled my panties to the side, slipping his finger through my folds. I was struggling to control my moans as they threatened to slip from my lips.
“None of that,” he hissed, smacking my ass with his other hand. “Let me hear you.”
I moaned and he chuckled darkly at the sound. “Such lovely little noises you make, darling.” He circled my clit with his thumb and I could feel my orgasm approaching as I gripped his shoulders.
“That’s it, little one,” he murmured into my ear, pressing his lips along my neck. He slipped his fingers inside my entrance, still circling my clit. “Norns, you feel perfect… can’t imagine how good you’re going to feel around my cock.”
I moaned loudly, clenching around his fingers and he chuckled. “There’s my good girl.” I could feel him smirking against my skin before he nibbled the skin of my ear. “Let go, darling. I’ve got you.” His other hand snaked around my waist. “I won’t let you fall. Just let go for me.”
My orgasm ripped through me and I moaned loudly as he continued circling my clit, helping me ride out the high. As I slowly came down he kissed me hard, murmuring against my lips. “You’re perfect.” He lifted me off the ground, gently tossing me on the bed. With a wave of his hand our clothes were gone and he climbed over me, grasping his cock in his hand, before searching my eyes. “May I?”
“Please, Loki,” I moaned, reaching out for him.
“Are you on the pill?” he asked. “Or would you prefer I use a condom?”
I shook my head. “I’m on the pill.” I grabbed his cock, stroking it. “Please.”
He smiled and I removed my hand, sliding it up his chest as he slipped his cock into my entrance, bracing himself above me. HIs eyes closed in pleasure, groaning as he slipped inside me.
“Fuck, darling… better than I ever could’ve imagined.”
I gripped his hips, slowly pushing him against me, begging him to move. He pressed his lips to mine and slowly began setting a steady pace, circling his hips. I moaned into his mouth and I could feel him smiling more each time I moaned for him. “That’s my good girl,” he murmured against my lips. “I can feel you getting close. He moved his hand to my clit, rubbing it harshly. “Cum for me, baby.” His hips started moving faster. “Cum,” he growled. “Cum now.”
My back arched as I came, moaning his name loudly. With a final thrust of his hips, he came inside me, pressing his hips hard against mine as he groaned in pleasure. His thumb was still rubbing my clit as I slowly came down from my high. As I settled back into the bed, breathing heavily, he removed his hand, kissing along my jaw.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, slowly pulling out of me. He conjured a cloth and carefully wiped my thighs. When he finished the cloth disappeared and he settled next to me but I knew I couldn’t stay.
I was preparing to redress and leave his chambers when I felt his arm wrap around my waist as his lips pressed to my shoulders. “Where are you going, little love?”
“Back to my room,” I answered.
“Why?”
“Isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that what most women you bring back do after you’ve fucked them?”
He scoffed. “You are not like most women I bring back here to fuck, darling… you are superior by far… and you mean far more to me than some common whore.”
I sighed, finally turning to face him. “Then do you act as if you hate me? Ever since our last mission together you’ve avoided me like the plague.”
“I can assure you, my darling… I would not let a plague anywhere near my cock. It is far too valuable an asset to be struck down by a plague.”
I rolled my eyes. “Good talk, Loki,” I said before standing up.
“No, wait!” He abruptly stood and moved in front of me, blocking my path. “I’m sorry, darling. You’re right… I was avoiding you but not for the reasons you think… When I was injured on the last mission… you saw a side of me no one ever has… you saw me vulnerable and I swore to never let anyone see me that way but… but you saw… and you didn’t run away… you didn’t try to use it against me. You… you actually seemed to care… and that scared me more than anything.”
“The thought of me caring for you scared you more than anything?”
He nodded. “I’ve never had that apart from my mother and Thor… it’s not something I thought I could ever get used to.”
“You could… if you wanted to,” I murmured, unable to meet his eyes, but he was having none of that. He lifted my chin, his eyes locking with mine.
“You mean it?”
I nodded.
“So you would… be mine… if I asked?”
Another nod.
“Then… w-would you… be mine?”
I nodded once again and crashed my lips to his, sealing that promise.
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#loki x reader#loki odinson#loki laufeyson#loki x y/n#lokixreader#loki friggason#loki of asgard#marvel#marvel mcu#avengers#loki smut#loki x female reader#loki x you#loki laufeyson x reader#loki x reader smut#marvel smut#smutty#smutty smut smut
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kind reminder of buds
small point i hope is taken kindly. this is not call out and please hear these words in most gentle way BUT with buds talkin HORROR tingleverse vs EROTICA tingleverse: camp damascus is not chuck tingle writing a 'serious novel'. i have always been serious my erotica is not a joke
PLEASE take this in spirit intended i am not upset at any buckaroos who write this or are unaware. just think i should say this so it might help buds who are poking around the tingleverse for the first time understand better. thank you buds LOVE IS REAL
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Hands up!
Hello everyone!
I continue on with my Christmas stories, they may be shorter than the last ones I made, but the pace may be a little more regular! Tell me what you think and let me know your requests if you have any:) I will try to respond quickly.
Enjoy!
TW: None!
The spirit of Christmas being something important for the Catalan club, it's not with great surprise that the team learned that in addition to the usual games to animate the different social networks, a mini-tournament for different associations was organized. The squad of the women’s team sufficient to create four different teams, they were all picked at random that day.
You smiled when you heard your name being shot on the first team, giving you Cata, Mapi, Lucy, Ingrid and Salma as teammates. If Mapi had fun seeing that even fate didn't separate her from Ingrid, you quickly noticed the competitive look Alexia gave you. It amused you a lot and you gave her a provocative smile when she came to the second team, when her name was shot. Having Ona, Patri and Aitana on her team, she seems to have an advantage. But you are here to have fun and you intend to enjoy these moments of relaxation after a rough end of year.
After a little warm-up to avoid a stupid injury, you found yourself with your teammates of the day at the edge of the field, your blue bibs on the back. The organisation put you at rest for the first game, so it's with jokes and laughter that you watch two of the other teams play against each other.
Matches are usually held in the stadium dedicated to indoor football, so that the spectators are not too cold. It adds a different atmosphere to what you’re used to, but you don’t find it unpleasant. Quite the contrary actually.
You won your first match against Caroline’s green team and now you have to face Alexia’s reds. Always with her playful face, Alexia stands in front of you, separated by the line of demarcation of the field, waiting for Aitana to shoot in the ball to start the match.
"Ready to lose Y/SN?"
You laughed mischievously, bowing an eyebrow before answering her.
"Count on it baby" you simply answer, quickly taking your place on the field when the ball is put into play.
The game is dynamic, but good. You don’t know what impression the spectators have of your match, but between the small playing comments launched between the players, there is something to laugh about. If you and Alexia don't hesitate to tease you, Ona and Lucy are not left out either.
During a corner for your team, you feel someone sticking against your back and you recognize your girlfriend without any difficulty. Her hands sit on your hips and her lips are just up to your ear when she speaks to you, in a whispered voice.
"I prefer when you only sweat because of me"
You know that you are the only one to have heard what she said and it's with an amused smile that you turn your eyes slightly in her direction, ignoring the heat wave that reverberates throughout your body, because of her comment and her chest against your back.
"You wanna play that way?"
Alexia doesn’t answer anything, just smiling at you. Her little game is nevertheless noticed by Lucy who calls her.
"Hands up, Putellas!"
Alexia raises both hands in the air, trying to prove her false innocence, which again amuses you a lot. With this story you completely miss the corner that Mapi sends into the box, which was obviously Alexia’s goal. While taking your place on the field, you wave to her with your hand that you keep an eye on her and she sends you a kiss.
A few minutes later, it’s your turn to call her when she has the ball in her foot to try to score.
"Nice ass, Number 11!"
Of course, the ball pass far from the goal and it's in front of your laughing face that she finds herself when she turns in your direction.
"Can we swap numbers at the end of the game?" you add mischievously as she passes by you, maliciously pinching your ribs as you pass. "Hands up Lucy said" you add, smiling.
Alexia pulls out your tongue and you laugh again. An amused smile appears on the captain’s face, after struggling a few seconds to mask it.
A few minutes later, the bell rang, announcing the end of the game. You lost by a goal, but again you don’t play to win today.
After the match, having once again to wait for a confrontation between two other teams, you find yourself leaning against an advertiser, in discussion with Salma. At least that was before two arms grabbed you by your waist. You drop a little cry of surprise, triggering Salma’s laughter, but you willingly let Alexia draw your body against hers.
"You’re not bad either, number 3" whispers Alexia against your cheek before kissing her.
Alexia seems to be more relaxed too, her mood impacted by the general atmosphere. And you love seeing her like that.
"Maybe we can exchange our jerseys in addition to our numbers?" you answer maliciously.
It makes her laugh and you add your laughter to hers when Mapi looks disgusted and asks you to find a room. But you don’t change position, enjoying Alexia’s embrace. Few people in the audience can see you from where you are but since the Spanish doesn’t seem to care, you either.
"So, do I have a nice butt?" asks Alexia playfully in a low voice after a few minutes watching your teammates play.
You laugh softly, turning slightly in her arms so you can look at her better.
"It’s even the part of your body that I prefer, if you want to know everything."
Alexia answers you with a thoughtful exclamation, having fun again. You put a kiss on the corner of her jaw, taking advantage of your position.
"Needless to say, I love everything about you, hmm?"
Alexia’s face turns to you again and tenderness has replaced the provocation in her gaze.
"I love you" she whispers gently before kissing you tenderly.
And, at the end of the tournament, when you and your team step on the second step of the podium all dressed up with your Christmas hats, you can’t help but give Alexia (On the first step of the podium, of course) a little slap on her butt. Who slaps you in the back of the head.
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Black Metal and Bourbon (III)
AU MASTERLIST || THE FINAL PART
PAIRING: Biker/Mechanic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Bartender!Reader
WORDCOUNT: 7.9k
WARNINGS: Depictions of injuries, blood, gore, abductions, death, talks about bike crashes, violence, guns, intended harm, past toxic relationship, murder, protective!Simon, suggestive content, (1) dirty joke, etc. (18+ mini-series)
*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*
You remember the long nights when you would sit in the empty bar and wonder why you’d never left. Why you couldn’t up and disappear like you wanted to—a bird taking flight and choosing any direction at all to travel, just as long as you didn’t stay on this branch. It wouldn’t have been hard. There wasn’t anything here that mattered to you.
This invisible string was holding you back, waiting; tying you to something that you would never understand for as long as you lived. You had dreams and aspirations.
So why hadn’t you grabbed them by the throat and dragged them along with you?
Maybe there were larger powers in that old town, a mischievous spirit that played a game of chess with the lives of its inhabitants. It certainly felt like it.
Especially when you’re flying through the air, the rain falling in slow motion as hands slash past wind to grab at your body. You recall flashes of that day. Snippets.
Even now, you feel like you see it in the third person, your form getting tossed by the momentum of the flipping motorcycle and cutting the storm—Simon’s hands reaching out and grasping you. He had dragged you into his chest, his back taking the force of the ground as you slid along the wet streets, pained grunts echoing into your soul as your panic resulted in a shocked muteness. His hands had been gripping you so tight that veins had burst, the view of the sky above you as your back conformed to his chest.
And then you’d both tumbled, rolled over and over as the screech of metal grated your ringing eardrums and pain flared like fire. Your head slammed into the front of the helmet with a smack, and nothing else is recalled.
Until now, of course.
You try to move your fingers, the tight hold of a cast over the entirety of your left forearm—the action brings a wave of weakness with it, making you grit your teeth. You’d woken up in the hospital with black dots in your vision, your body so unresponsive your mind had panicked thinking you wouldn’t be able to move at all.
And Simon?
Where was Simon?
You’d been so loud with your hoarse calling that the nurses had rushed in and had to put you back under, letting you drift and brushing their hands over your head as you babbled on failing breath. Never once had your brain left you void of the mechanic’s brown eyes—his hands grabbing you, keeping you safe at the risk of his own flesh.
He hadn’t been wearing a helmet.
But now…now you were fully conscious.
“Where is he?” Your face is perhaps one of the few parts of you that was unscathed. Your legs were skinned—wrapped so tightly you couldn’t move them. While Simon’s leather jacket had saved your arms, they were still battered and bulging with blisters as big as your hand. Your forearm was broken.
The nurse shushed you, and your voice snapped. “Loralie, I’ve known you since middle school,” she pauses, lips thinning as she messes with your IV drip. “You’re going to tell me where the hell he is, or I’m going to scream that you made Braylan Holt forge your high school diploma.”
Sizzling eyes meet yours, but not even that will deter you—your heart is heard, rapid on the screen to your left.
“You’re a damn horror, Bartender.”
“You’re acting like I give a shit,” you growl and the nurse slightly moves back, never hearing that venom from you before to such a degree. “Where the fuck is Simon before I get up myself.”
It’s like a dog with fear aggression—you can’t comprehend the man you’d formed such a bond with hurt, much less here in this hospital with you and…and…
Your heart rate increases even more.
He wasn’t wearing a helmet.
“That’s not gonna happen, Sweetheart,” Loralie grits out. “You won’t be walkin’ for another week, at least. Not with all that damage—your legs were so bloody the EMTs couldn’t tell where the hell the blood was even comin’ from.”
Your working hand curls into a tight fist, teeth snapping together as you restrain a flinch. You don’t want to think about that right now.
“Simon,” you grunt, shaking.
The woman stares for a moment before sighing.
“You’re something strange, Girl. How the hell you managed to be stuck here is some mystery I can’t fathom. Fine,” she glares before a fast whisper. “But you best forget about that stint with Holt, alright? You never mention that again—”
“Already forgotten,” you grind out, impatient. Even the muddled agony from under the sheen of the pain meds couldn’t stop you. “Speak.”
“The man’s in rough shape. Hasn’t woken up yet.” Your jaw clenches tight, blood pumping like a river. A finger is leveled at you, moving in an accusing motion. “He’s lucky he didn’t die, by all accounts the shape he was in he should have. Had to go into surgery to get the bike shrapnel out of his legs.”
“Surgery?” Your eyes go wide, your voice frantic. “W-what about his head—did he hit it, or…or is he—”
“His brain waves are active.” The nurse tidies the blankets at the end of your bed. “Can’t say that about his body.”
Your throat sinches violently, and you have to look away to hide your tears. Moments later, the woman lets out an aggressive sigh, her hands moving to cross over her chest.
“That man must fucking love you,” you blank, blinking quickly as you sniffle and try to shift your expression back to fake anger.
“What…?” You ask, your tone defeated.
Loralie stares, her eyes moving to the IV only to waft back when she can gather her thoughts.
“If he hadn’t grabbed you, you would have gone right off the edge of the road into the rocks.” In the bed, your body goes as still as possible, your ears twitching at the confession. “In the middle of getting road-burned to all hell, he still grabbed you. If you would have gone over, we’d only be having one of our intensive care rooms filled up…you hear?”
You can’t say anything, only watch as the nurse finishes up her work and exits with one last look of exasperation.
Alone, your brain finally tries to comprehend what you’d just been told.
“...Simon,” you whisper to dead air long minutes later, the machines all around you beeping.
The tears come easily.
—
When your legs finally started working again, it didn’t bring you any comfort. Only Simon could do that, and seeing the looks from the other staff, they knew it as well. You couldn’t keep your full weight on your limbs, only bend the toes and knees in small intervals.
The doctor said it was a fantastic start, but you felt helpless.
You wanted to see him, yet first came the interview with the Sheriff to explain what had happened. After the details started coming back, a larger picture was formed, and when you had been able to get ahold of a phone—your own shattered and little more than a box—you’d heard a case had already been opened.
Simon’s bike had been tampered with.
After you’d given your statement, you had been surprised to find three mechanics at your door, walking in quickly and throwing over concerned looks at your busted forearm and hidden legs.
“Christ,” Soap says, a flash of anger crossing like lightning over his eyes. “You don’t hurt much, do you?”
“No,” you lie easily. “Could be worse,” your words were whispered.
John sends you an indiserable look as Gaz sips off his hat and keeps it in his grip as he frowns.
“We’re happy you’re alright, Love. Scared us half to death when we heard the news—thought the worst,” Kyle commented, the Brit’s hand running over his neck slowly.
They could all tell that you weren’t in the right mindset.
“He’s alive,” you look over to Price sharply. Those blue eyes don’t waver. “That’s all that matters. He’s alive.”
“Aye,” Johnny agrees, nodding his head and crossing his arms. A stubborn expression was on his face. “Never known someone like Simon. The man’ll push through without a doubt—just needs time to rest up.”
“I shouldn’t have agreed to go out,” you mutter, rubbing at your cheek, thinking about a man with a mangled body and skinned bones. Jesus, he needed to be alright. He had to be.
“No one could have thought that would happen,” Kyle comes over and puts a firm hand on your shoulder. “Hey, c’mon,” you look at him with a guilty face; fear under your tiny pupils. The man smiles, but it’s shaky at best. “We all know who to blame for this, yeah? Don’t go taking that from the person who needs to carry it.”
“We’ve been keeping up with it,” Soap adds, frowning. “Still no trace.”
“They haven't found him yet?” Your brows turn in with concern, a sudden paranoia entering your head—if they hadn’t found Graham, what’s to stop him from doing something like this again? Hell, if he was unhinged enough to commit attempted murder, what was stopping him from pushing those boundaries now that he’s already gone through with the former?
“We’re not going anywhere,” John seems to sense this. You look at him quickly. The man grunts, lips moving as he speaks. “Not until he’s found.”
A piece of your heart eases at that, thankfulness flooding your veins.
“...Do,” your voice pauses, and you swallow down saliva slowly before you continue. “Do you know when they’ll let me see him?”
Soap and Gaz share a glance, the Scot going to ease into the chair on the other side of the room with a low sigh.
“They’re not letting anyone in,” Kyle utters. “Not until his condition improves a bit. We tried.”
“Two weeks,” John nods to you. “They’re only giving estimates.”
Fingers twitching, you look down at your lap, the hospital bed hard under you. The words come out, and you find they’re met with a hard certainty from the men around you.
“What if they don’t find Graham?”
“...Then we will.”
—
The mechanics had all looked over their bikes for any tampering and had found none when they reported back to you—the bolts had been loosened only on Simon’s. Soap was the one who had mentioned that you might have never been the target at all, and that Graham had been a spiteful man who just wanted to make a point about his past relationships’ new attraction. The thought didn’t settle you.
All of them were undeniably worried about their friend.
You’d tried to get what you could out of the other nurses—any signs of waking or getting better, but there were only stiff looks as if it was taboo to talk about him. Like an inside joke with the devil.
The staff had finally said they would tell you themselves if there was any change in Simon’s health. It didn’t stop you from asking, though. It currently didn’t stop you from sneaking out in the middle of the night after visiting hours, either.
Your legs were still weak, sometimes going numb entirely as you dragged them over the floor. Inside your eyes, black dots swirled as you effectively dodged the front desk by taking the far back hallway; the lights above your head were too bright and too loud.
Your arm burned something awful.
Eyes blinking rapidly, you pant as you go from room to room, not stopping even to breathe before room fourteen makes your soul pull in on itself like a crow holding a bell. The bit of metal jingles, attached to a red string that flutters in the wind—reaching back to the wreath it was stolen from.
Not understanding the instinctual feeling, you grasp the handle and push open the door with more force than you’re able to push out of you; your working arm quivering violently.
But the sight behind the door is something you would cross mountains for.
Simon lies still on the bed, attached to so many machines he seems more like a cyborg than a man. Over his face, an oxygen mask takes the place of a balaclava, and the right side of flesh is patched with so many bandages the bulk makes your stomach drop.
“Simon,” you whisper, stuttering as your blood falls internally to pool at your feet.
Walking over as quickly as you’re able, you pause at the side of his bed, nearly falling over as your knees buckle. You lean your weight on the frame and take a deep breath.
This man saved your life.
You look at him, unable to say anything—unable to utter a sarcastic quip. Your hand stutters in its course through the sterile air, but at the very end of it, your skin settles over Simon’s hand; the limb on his chest.
“Simon,” you say again, licking your lips, fingers squeezing his tattoos as if to bring the images to life. “Can you hear me, Brown-Eyes?”
You needed him to wake up—needed to speak to him, see that October gaze lock so numbly with yours. Dead eyes had never meant so much to you than when the man that wore them wasn’t blinking so softly. Where had he gone?
“Simon,” you plead, getting choked up when nothing happens beyond the flicking of the light on the ceiling. The beeping of his pulse didn’t change, not even when you intertwined your fingers together to lock them like a knot—a promise. “I need you to be okay,” your voice stutters.
“We have to get through this together…I…” Tears splatter his tattoos, his lovely, beautiful, tattoos, you hiccup. “We need each other.”
Maybe it was cliche, two people who relied on one another in a town of nobodies, but it didn’t make it untrue. And maybe it was a partial lie—after all, you didn’t know what Simon thought of you exactly, but the way he looked at you, how he cast his shadow above yours, was a well enough guess in the right direction. But you needed to say it, and your heart ached to see him like this.
Simon doesn’t move, his hand is cold and his lashes stuck to his cheeks.
“Simon,” you hiss, sniffling.
The hours pass, and you stay there for as long as you’re able before your body is about to give out on you. You reluctantly kiss his forehead and leave with a crushing weight on your shoulders, so much so that the flashes of broken metal and rain don’t even bother you at this point.
A rage grows in your breast.
But when you sneak back to your room, you don’t go to bed. You can’t. The smell in the space is something that leaves your eyes stuck wide until your legs actually do buckle. Your eyes stare at the far wall blankly.
Cigarette smoke lingers in the air.
—
“He woke up last night.” Your blank eyes stare, expression stuck firm. Loralie gives you your lunch, setting it down on the bed tray. “Around three. Said your name and then passed out again.”
“Why didn’t you get me?” You’re already pushing off the bed, your lips letting loose a grunt. The boys had to be at work today—a Thursday—so that left you alone and bored until they took a break and walked over to keep an eye on things.
Wincing when your feet touch down, you’re quickly, and very easily, pushed back into bed with a scoff.
“Loralie,” you growl, venom in your throat like a rampaging bull.
“Sit down and let me finish.” The both of you glare before she rolls her eyes and points to the food. “Acting like a damn teenager. Eat.” She doesn’t start until you pick up the fork just to shove a single piece of the lunch into your mouth to spite her, slowly chewing it with a scowl. Loralie rubs at her temple. “He’s getting better, but it’s still a long road. Activity’s peaking every now and again—fingers been twitching, too. Some of the bandages have been able to come off.”
“Thank the fucking lord,” you breathe, running both hands over your face as you sigh out slowly. “Any estimate on when he might fully wake up.”
“God knows,” the nurse huffs. “He had brain bleed. Man was all kinds of messed-up.”
Your chest tightens, but you say nothing. You’d suddenly lost your appetite.
As the afternoon rolls around, you take down your pain medicine and fight the blurriness of your eyes. Healing was a very long and very tiring process—it seemed like no matter how much sleep you got you still woke up tired. And you suppose that was why you fell into an uncomfortable nap and woke up to the window still open, the moonlight rays like sheer fabric cascading down to the tile floors.
Groaning, your head lifts from the pillow; your first thoughts are always of Simon and how he’s doing. It was time to see him again.
Your TV-static mind reruns how he looks over and over again—the bloody bandages, the wrappings around his face. Even the machines now seemed to sneer at you as your guilt grew harder to ignore. He’d saved you at the cost of himself…without even hesitating.
Why would he do that?
“You really had to go and make me love you, huh?” You ask into the cold air, a breeze shifting through as you slowly sit up on one arm. “Simon, if I’d known you would have gone and done this, I would have never looked at that sold sign. At least then you’d be okay.”
“You love him?” Your body twists up, large patches of gauze pulling at dried blood and mixed plasma as your body keeps itself upright. The shadow in the corner of the room moves as your fatigued brain wakes itself back up in no time at all.
Graham.
Eyes stuck to the far corner, the phantom of your Ex stands tall—his eyes beady. Your entire being freezes as your lips part in horror, yet, you can’t make a sound.
He’s disheveled looking, but those eyes of his have never been more rageful. Like walking through the hospital and coming face-to-face with a grizzly bear of all things. It’s strange, but your thoughts immediately go to Simon as he steps forward, sneering at you.
“The first man that comes into town and you love him? I didn’t think you were so easy, but I guess I was wrong.”
“What are you doing here?” Your voice is hushed, panicked—adrenaline spikes in your veins.
If you screamed, who’s to say he wouldn’t just pounce on you?
Graham runs a hand over his hair, his scent taking up your nostrils until you feel the need to nearly gag at ash and tobacco. “I needed to see you—explain,” he stutters, emotions swiftly flicking from anger to fake remorse.
Your hand slowly inches to the nurse-call button attached to the wall near the bed, the cord leaking out like a snake as your fingertip catches against it.
“You weren’t supposed to be on that bike, okay? Celina fucking messed it up—she was supposed to keep you workin’ until he went out on his own.” He’s coming closer, and you push back up the mattress in distress.
He doesn’t stop.
“What the fuck, Graham,” your voice rises slightly, cracking in the middle.
The man growls. “It wasn’t my fault! J-just forget about it, okay? You’re fine now, it all worked out.”
“You tried to kill us!” You shout, and Graham’s instant hiss makes you flinch back and scamper as you slam the wall behind you.
“Don’t do that,” he snaps. “Do not…do that. Keep your damn voice down!”
“And if I scream?” You tilt your head, shaking violently. “What then, huh? You lousy son of a bitch.”
“You’re lucky I don’t pay that Simon of yours a visit, yeah?” Your lungs tighten, a wheezing inhale stuck in your throat.
“You wouldn’t, Graham,” you whisper hastily. “Not with all of this shit you’ve gotten yourself into—turn yourself in and fix this.”
The man spays his hands and your hand shifts to the bulk of the nurse’s button, running over the top until you find the correct one to press.
It moves in with a slight pop of plastic, the darkness of the room giving you extra coverage as you slowly drop it back down.
“It’s too late for that.” Graham shakes his head, and his stench overtakes you as you gag lightly, casted hand coming up to hide your nose. He pauses near the side of the bed, and you push to the opposite side and hear your feet slap the ground. The size of your makeshift barrier doesn’t fill you with confidence. “You need to come with me.”
“What,” you laugh in exasperation; fear coating the hoarse noise. “No! Leave!”
It was obvious that your usual sarcastic tone had slipped to a fearful one, your heart making your voice palpitate with every thump of the veins in your neck.
The door opens and Graham’s hand darts to the back of his pants.
Loralie’s body comes into view. “What’s happened now—”
A great ear-shattering boom leaves you screaming as blood splatters into the air.
—
Simon woke up to the world spinning.
He grunts heavily, the oxygen mask over his face tight before he can slap a weak hand to the plastic and pull it back. The man coughs, spine curling before a bone-deep pain makes him stop with a firm inhale.
Blinking sluggishly, he grinds his teeth together and lets the mask slip to his cheek. Movement at his slide makes Simon pause—trying to gather his bearings.
What was going on?
“Simon, easy with it.” Scottish. Johnny. “Christ…how am I going to explain this?” More shuffling and fast feet over to the side of the bed.
“Johnny,” Simon grunts, vocal cords tight. He needed water.
“One second, just wait. Let me…” A pause before a sloshing of water. Above the man in the bed, the ceiling moves and swirls—dancing. Simon remembers water…the bike…
“Can you hold it, then?” He doesn’t answer the Scot, instead slapping out a hand to curl the body of the glass, bringing it to his lips and downing the liquid as it slips from the side and dribbles down the side of his face.
Johnny grumbles, “Alright.”
You.
Simon choked on the drink, moving it back before his arms slammed to the bed, the glass bouncing off and shattering against the floor.
“Fucking hell!” Johnny shouts, rushing forward to put a stiff hand on Simon’s chest, trying to push him back down and avoid the glass that now litters the tile. “Stop it, you’ll destroy all the damn work they did, ya idiot!”
“Where is she?” Simon garbles out, glaring forward even as his body screams and peels back healed flesh.
“Stay the fuck down and I will!” Blue eyes sear downward, meeting brown as they battle for a moment.
Simon clenches his hands, but compiles, top half moving back to collapse to the pillows once more. Not once do his eyes stray from the Scot, ordering him mutely to continue as his heart pounds in his breast. He remembers grabbing you and then nothing else—the scream of sirens in his ears like a distant call from a dream. But his body ached far too much for this to be a dream.
“Where,” Simon forces out through his accent, throat like gravel. His chest was filled with dread at the nervous sheen over Johnny’s face.
“Ah…” The Scot begins. “She’s fine, Simon. She’s alive.”
That didn’t give him any reassurance.
Simon hisses, quickly trying to get back up again and succeeding in straining his body enough to sit halfway upward. All of the wires and cords attached to him rip and pop off, frantic beeping emanating from the room.
“Take me to ‘er. Now.”
“I can’t do that!” Johnny hisses, hands out and failing to keep him stationary. “Would you just calm down?”
The man doesn’t answer, not until the nurses rush into the room due to the noise and tell him false words to try and get him to lay back down. Simon knew something was wrong—instincts going haywire.
Were you…dead? No, you couldn’t be. That wouldn't be possible. Johnny knew better than to lie to him.
“Johnny!” Simon shouts as loud as he’s able; raw authority in his mouth. Even the nurses freeze at that.
The mohawked man’s twisted face is wracked with guilt, and there calls to the fact that Gaz and Price are nowhere to be seen.
Simon says it slowly, wounds bleeding and his face opening the long scrapes of road-burn on his left side. It burns like a fire—itching like no other. But it’s secondary to the pure adrenaline keeping him awake.
“Where.”
Even Johnny can’t fight that tone.
“Graham has ‘er.”
—
This was a hunting shed, you knew. One out in the middle of the trees—about three miles from town with its rot-infected walls and a chipping wood fireplace. The floor is nearly covered in cigarette butts.
You stay stuck in the far corner—hands and feet zip-tied together. Your head had been covered by a bag that you had grabbed and ripped off when the world stopped jostling from the trunk of a car. From then, you had been dragged at gunpoint through the hell portal of the front door.
Graham is watching from the single chair across the room, itching at his scalp with the barrel of a .44 Magnum and using his other hand to rub along his thigh.
“Shit,” he mutters as you watch, silent and as still as a stake in the ground. “Shit, shit, shit.” Loralie’s blood is still splattered along your face.
He’d shot her through the stomach. You’d seen her body drop: dead in an instant.
“I didn’t mean to do that,” Graham stands suddenly, and your body recoils with a slam of your shoulder into the wall. The frame shakes. The man quivers as he glares at you. “It wasn’t my fault she came in through the fucking door!”
You only nod tinily in frantic agreement, looking around the room in search of anything that might help you. But there’s only so much you can do against a man holding a gun—a man who finds himself wanted for a slough of crimes which now just got incredibly long.
You had heard the sirens bouncing over the hills hours prior, but no one knew you were out here unless they happened to be the best-trained tracker of all time.
It should be morning now, but the threat of rain outside obscures the tiny slivers of light that try to pierce the leaves of the forest.
“Fuck!” Graham screams, foot kicking out to connect with the chair and sending it flying backward before it splinters and clatters—all termite-eaten legs and cracked seat.
Your mouth releases a squeak, panting breath a sharp gasp.
You needed to figure something out. Quickly.
The single window is smashed in, glass sprinkling the ground in large shards, and you don’t care if it’s the result of some teenagers smashing property or anything else for that matter—you had to snap these bonds.
It wasn’t like the termites could help.
“Graham.” You’d never call yourself stupid, and heaven help anyone else who tried to. You didn’t work at a bar without learning more and more about the human psyche than all the years in school and adult life combined. Everyone had games they played inside of their head, a series of tic-tac-toe boards or grandiose plots of fanatical sagas; it just so happened that Graham fashioned himself the hero of every single one of them. Every line was his chicken scratch signature.
“Graham,” you raise your voice and say again, forcing past the quiver in your tone to a lake’s calm waters.
The man’s panicking—restless as he paces the front door, guarding it from you. It wasn’t too far-fetched to believe he could kill you now to put an end to this shit-show. He’d always taken the easy way out, after all.
But his eyes snap to yours regardless, and you have to not scream at him as he does.
“What?” He hisses, motioning to you with the gun with a limp arm. “You wanna weigh in, then? I did this for you and you went and ruined it!”
“I know I did, baby,” you breathe, alarm bells blaring. “I’m sorry—I just wasn’t thinking. I wanted you to fight for me.”
Your throat simmers with bile.
What were you saying? You had no idea, but it played into Graham’s weaknesses. Maybe Simon had rubbed his casual strength over to subjugate your brash sarcasm and brutish aggression.
Simon.
God, thinking about him made you want to cry.
“What are you talkin’ about?” Graham intently listens, the gun shaking. “Don’t….Don’t fucking play with me right now,” he warns, growling.
“I’m not playing,” you raise your hands up, the cast protecting one wrist, but the other had the harsh plastic suffocating your veins like it was a supple neck under a cougar’s jaw. “I’m not. I got with Simon because I wanted to make you jealous—at that party?” You suck down a fast breath. “I wanted you to swing on him, yeah? I know you could have made an example out of him.”
“Course I would have,” Graham mutters, pushing his hand up over his face to clear it of the sweat and crimson droplets. “Lousy no good mechanic with a shitty bike.”
“Graham, can you cut off the zip-ties, please?” He laughs and shakes his head immediately.
“I’m not that stupid there, Sweetness.” Your jaw clenches, anger spiking.
“I never said that you were,” you snapped desperately, hospital gown all dirty and your bandages hanging off of you like you were a mummy trapped in a tomb. It didn’t sound that far out of place. “You’re hurting me.”
The floors creak as you shuffle, moving your body forward trying to stand on bound ankles. It doesn’t work. Your ears twitch above the rumble from the clouds far above, past the hole-filled roof, to the sound of an exasperated scoff.
“You’ll live. Now be quiet and let me think—you’ve made a mess of everything.” Adrenaline gives everyone a high like no other. It happens fast and can start up from the adrenal glands in mere moments when under stress or danger; when it leaves, it can result in lightheadedness, and trembling. Go long enough to where you can get it out of you entirely, it can even lead to tiredness.
Three hours pass, and it’s storming outside as Graham is sleeping near the door. Curled like a wolf, the silver glint of the magnum is still clutched in his hand, fingers loose like worms as his face twitches. You had waited the past hour to see if he would wake up.
Now it was time to act.
As you slowly hobble to your elbows and knees, dragging yourself along the cigarette-coated floor, you collect dust like the knick-knacks in your home. Taking small and quick breaths, your eyes lock with a sharp piece of glass as your agonizing injuries pull and break open. Blood is so heavy in the air that it’s able to be tasted on your tongue—coated so thick even the deluge of rain can’t get rid of the stain.
Graham mutters in his sleep, and your heart beats far into your mouth; body locking up as your gaze flashes over to the twitching shadow. Lightning flashes outside as you slowly start back up again—one eye always to the side and the pupils smaller than a spec of dirt.
You lick your lips, creeping onward until you can reach out your fingers and slice them on the side of the glass. Your lips hold tight a whine of pain, hand clenched over the material as you twist it around and line the edge up with the zip-tie.
Your breath is all you can hear—loud inside of your head before the sawing motion makes the cuts over your hands grow deeper the more you press into the plastic. Welts had burst by now, puss seeping to the ground as the zip-tie around your wrists popped with a snap of hard material.
A yell of achievement is kept inside of your sputtering chest as you shove your leaking palms to the wood, rolling to your back and bending your knees to bring your ankles upward.
The second tie snaps just like the last, and your limbs roll themselves in circles to get the circulation back as quickly as possible, gaze jerking back and forth to Graham as your pulse roars.
Run. Run. Run.
Every rush of your blood sings the same order.
Lose him in the storm.
Your legs wobble as you shove yourself up, the glass still held in your hand—an infectious thought entering your body as you stare at the magnum. Stumbling, your bare feet steady themselves as your shoulder knocks the back wall, face contorted inwards.
How hard would it be to steal it? He was sleeping.
Blinking away the black fireworks in your vision, you look from the broken window to the door, remembering the bike crash as the rain seeps in from the roof. Water splashes as the minutes spread like crimson pools.
Graham’s troubled face shifts as he groans, and you’re already out of the window with a slide of glass and a slap of wet grass.
You’re running through the forest as if a deer, crashing through undergrowth and slipping down ravines. The gown and the trailing bandages have long been soaked, heavy in their own right—a second skin hanging off as your blood gets washed away by the rain. You don’t know when you started crying, but the sky’s tears bled with your own exceptionally well.
There were multiple times when you swore there were footsteps behind you—right on your tail as your blurry vision finds phantoms in the bushes and the leaves as they fly up behind you at a kick of your mud-covered feet.
You didn’t have a destination, and as far as you cared, you could die in these woods happily as long as Graham never had the chance to make a decision. In the end, his own ability to fuck himself over never had the chance to change—thank God.
A hand slams on your shoulder.
Half a scream is stifled, as another is leveled to your mouth—your body is yanked to the side. Dragged behind the bark of a tree, lightning flares overhead as if as shocked as you were, arms and legs kicking out.
There’s a stiff grunt, and large biceps that curl your waist. Words are about to be uttered into your ear canal before your teeth chomp down on the thick material of padded gloves, eyes wide with blurry panic.
“Sunshine!” You don’t listen over your muffled curses, nails clawing into a forearm as your casted limb aches.
Whirled around, your spine finds a trunk, and you snarl before, once more, “Bloody hell, Sunshine, it’s me!”
Finally able to see who was keeping you hostage, your struggling halts with a knee halfway up and ready to send full force into a crotch. You blink multiple times, panting into the palm before the hand drops entirely and you can take down fragmented breaths.
A skeleton-painted balaclava is only a glimpse before those October eyes suck you in.
Simon and you stare at one another as the storm rages on.
He was in all black—straps and holsters clipped onto his thighs and chest above a combat vest that you’d seen in military documentaries on TV; a compression shirt under a water-resistant covering rolled up to his elbows. And guns.
Guns at his thighs, a rifle at his chest, a knife at his belt.
Simon Riley was dressed for war.
You stutter, eyes beady as you open and close your mouth.
Wasn’t he supposed to be in the hospital? How did he find you?
“How…” You blink as the man’s concerned eyes scan you over, rage shimmering in his expression as water saturates his mask. His gloved hands settle at your shoulders and squeeze before they move once more. “How did you…?”
“Let me look,” he mutters, touching your wrist and bringing it up. Your mouth shuts tight, flinching. Simon halts and quickly glances back up with a simmering gaze. He doesn’t move, and when he blinks, whatever anger that was mounting is re-hidden back behind the void of his irises. You stare as his browns melt.
“Can I touch you, Love?” Water slaps your head but the barrier of trees helps slightly. The question was one of the most important he could have asked.
You nod, but he still waits.
“Yes,” your voice pushes out. Simon’s large hand recaptures your flesh like a precious object, twisting it around.
He tenses at the blood, and, just like the realization outside of the vandalized shop, he tells you quietly, “You’re shaking.”
“Simon,” your lips wobble, sniffling.
Your body is shielded in an instant.
“It’s alright.” He breathes into your scalp—you feel his pulse, his hard surety; this wasn’t a hold that was quick to leave. “I’m ‘ere, I’ve got you. We’ll be alright. Focus on me, Sunshine. Focus.”
It wasn’t soon after that those arms separated for a moment, the velcro of a vest in your ears before a rain jacket is carefully, yet quickly, pulled through your arms and zipped up. The rifle is leaning against a rock as the hood is pulled to protect your visage from the downpour. But the rain is the last thing on your mind.
Screaming echoes out over the night and you gasp, head jerking up to the trees as the yowls vaguely take the incorporeal shape of your name on the battling wind.
Simon growls, hand coming up to rest beside your skull on the trunk as he leans over you, gazing off into the night.
“Stay still,” he utters into your ear, the compression shirt tight enough to make the bulk of bandages easily visible all along his arms and shoulders. A pistol is held loosely from his free hand—his fingers twitching around it as numb eyes move along the open spaces of forest.
Not about to muster a response, your fatigued and addled mind begins to blank of all else but the scent of muddled oil and metal; tattoo ink.
Simon grips you closer to his chest as the wrathful calls bounce on air-waves like arrows right to his building fury. The man’s jaw clenched tightly—body shaking not from the chill but from restraint.
He’d broken out of the hospital with one goal: track you down and get you back. Anything else was an added pleasure that the veteran had mulled over as he busted out his old gear and strapped himself with whatever he might need.
Everyone’s only concern was with how he was still shaky on his feet after the crash, but in reality, Simon barely noticed. The minute he’d heard you were gone, all bets were off.
No one had clung to military life more than him, not even Price.
No one messed with someone he cared about and got off scot-free, even if it ended in a life sentence in jail. Eating a meal was too good for Graham Whitaker—breathing was too good.
But before all of that dark work, first came you.
Nothing else was touching you. Ever.
So the rushing feet weren’t much of a concern to the man, truth be told. Simon clocked the fool a mile before his huffing was etching like a point through the storm, cheek to your scalp as you shiver and shake, fingers curled into his shirt as your eyelids flutter.
He needed to get you medical attention—clean those wounds.
But Graham.
“No!” His screaming continues, stumbling through about ten feet away—the glint of a gun at the fool’s thigh unmistakable. “No! I was asleep for five minutes!”
Brown eyes don’t blink as they watch, feeling you tense and tighten even at the phonics of the man’s speech.
“Don’t look, then, yeah?” Simon utters softly. The sound of the safety being flipped off on his gun was drowned out. Your mind barely comprehends the words, all of it slurring together as Simon’s hand curls your skull and covers your ear above the hood. An oil painting smeared by blood-coated fingers that hold you so sweetly. “Easy. It’ll be over soon.”
You get drunk on it as you nuzzle your face into his neck. Simon’s focus threatens to give way before he blinks at the scene ahead of him.
Graham twists in a circle, nearly sobbing as he yells even more and grips one hand into his hair, pulling harshly. It was like watching a toddler having a tantrum, though this was far more serious. And deadly.
But all of that searching wasn't for nothing.
Simon lets his eyes lock with Graham Whitaker only once, and even then it was a mere glance. A Ghost deserves nothing more before it disappears back into smoke.
Panicked widening, an arm seizing up.
It had been for more of the mechanic’s benefit than anything else—torture in its own right as a rabbit stares down a wolf and its foaming maw. Simon was never reckless; never eager to kill even back then. It had been his job, and he’d done it tactfully—resourcefully. A dance of instinct and sheer nuance to get the ques down that had taken him decades to perfect. Training like that didn’t just go away.
People only saw him coming if he wanted them to.
And Simon desperately wanted this man to look into his eyes as he pulled that trigger. Not even the maggots would want the body he gives to them.
—
You both lay in bed, silent.
The sheets are warm with body heat, and the cast around your arm had only come off two days ago—the flesh sore and the muscles weak. Around you, hard limbs are anchoring you to a chest filled with scars; scars you’d memorized easily as you traced over them like a painter with her favorite brush.
He wouldn’t tell you the stories behind them, and you have to admit you were relieved about that. It was the past, after all.
This moment was for the future.
“Want you to work with me in the shop,” Simon mutters as he stares into your eyes. You blink, brows lightly furrowing before his hand comes up and his digits brush your cheek softly. Your lashes flutter at the scrape of calluses as he continues in a low grumble. “Custom detailing.”
“...And will I be paid for this?” You ask him, teasingly—delicately.
“As much as you want.” Simon isn’t joking. “More than what the fuckin’ bar can give you,” his breath moves over your pulse, making you shiver.
Your half-lidded eyes stay locked into those endless voids, his slow blinking waiting for an answer as the bulk of his belongings sits in the corner of your room.
“Haven’t even finished the mural yet,” you huff. “Eager to get me next to you?”
“Yes.” Simon moves forward, and, without the need to hide himself from you, presses his lips to your chin, head dipping to tilt your face and allow him access to your neck. You hear him nearly purr when your fingers card his hair, nails set into his flesh.
“I make pretty good tips, Brown-Eyes.” Fingers pulse at your hips, slipping over flesh.
There’s no reason to keep talking about this—your answer is already obvious—but the both of you enjoy this endless chase.
Something new and, for you, something to make your feet stationary.
Simon had taken out his CB1000R for the first time for your date yesterday, his eyes avoiding yours as you’d asked why he’d been five minutes late. He’d said it was because he’d been checking the motorcycle over all day—re-checking it once before coming over with a knot in his intestines.
There was the very obvious change of two helmets, as well. You had thought you’d be hesitant to get on a bike again, but the feeling of Simon’s body in front of yours was more of a comfort than anything that came before. The wind at your sides as he’d driven far slower than ever—glancing back nearly every minute to make sure you were alright.
Big teddy bear, you thought affectionately.
“Can give you a better one,” Simon jokes crudely in your bed, grunting like a beast. Your lips let loose a snort, head flopping down to rest on the top of the man’s skull. At his back, your fingers play with the brunt of his old scars as well as the new ones that are still and an angry red; barely closed.
“That was horrible.” Simon shivers under your study when your lips mutter your amusement.
“A bit.” He smirks. “You givin’ me an answer, Sunshine?”
This would be the last chance to get out of this town—say no and disappear, never to be seen again just like the hundreds before you. What life could you have out there? What could you build differently—build like a pack of wooden blocks and poke at before they fall down?
What could you nurture what you already had blooming?
You sigh, arm moving back to perch under Simon’s neck. Pulling him back, you tilt his head to meet yours as he hums, kissing him on the lips and taking his freedom as your own. Simon’s hand spans your spine as his fingers spread; the stretch of his tattoos corrupting your soul one atom at a time as he opens his eyes to watch.
A loyal sin had never tasted better.
You ease back and whisper over his open mouth, “Yes.”
October eyes consume you whole.
—
This town is small—it talks. Everyone knew what happened to Graham Whitaker; everyone knew who killed him.
But small towns always have big secrets that no one ever discusses.
They never found his body, and the boys had all made sure they never would. So, to this day, the bastard is still listed as he should be:
MISSING: GRAHAM WHITAKER
Dangerous individual believed armed and dangerous. Do not attempt to approach.
Information? Contact your local police force at the provided number below.
Celina and the rest of Graham’s goons never showed their faces again, and even then, there was no evidence to directly tie them to anything beyond the loose connection to the vandalism.
Of course, the bar was always bustling, eager to speak about it even when ivy had crept over the telephone post flyers and hidden them from any eyes. That one cold case that was ingrained into its history until something else came along—told on long nights to ease the bored atmosphere of passing folk and crumbling buildings. Grumbled over the raw scent of black metal and grunted at the rim of a Neat Kentucky Bourbon.
The twitched smirk over those lips is always a staple, though, and so is the brown-eyed look passed your way as you sit content under the stretch of his arm, art journal open to yet another page as the appointments piled up.
You haven’t shown him yet, but all of your sketches are of him.
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Heyy just wondering if you do requests, if so I was wondering if you could do a Colby brock one where they are in the shadow man mannor in wales and the reader is colbys 2 months pregnant gf, but like they haven’t told anyone she was pregnant yet, and she’s a medium and stuff keeps happening to her and the spirt box tells everyone she’s pregnant just like a very scary and worried and protective colby requests please.
Spoiled Surprise
We start the investigation in one of the upstairs rooms, looking for the tall, dark shadow man that seems to scare the owners and the visitors of the house. I let the boys walk forward and I'm between Colby and Kat, her amd Stas being the last ones. We enter the room and a cold breeze washes over my face.
"Woah", i take a step back, almost stepping on Kat's foot. I capture everyone's attention. "Didn't you feel like a cold breeze hitting you?"
"No?", Colby answers and we keep on walking until we reach the center of the room. "So stuff starts happening already, we should hit things off. We have an emf reader, the well known spirit box and our ovilus.", Colby points to the devices that me and Sam hold. The small space of the room would normally make the air between us warmer. But now... I start shaking and the girls hug themselves, shivers running through our bodies.
Sam starts pointing the emf reader around the room, proving that none of our devices are at fault for the spiking.
"Woah, woah, point to that corner", i point with my finger to the corner of the room.
"Why? Do you see something?", Sam asks panicked
"I saw a tall, dark shape right there, i can't see it anymore but i still feel it.", from an instinct, i put a hand over my belly as a protective act and take a deep breath. The room got colder and the emf spikes to red. "Told you", i smirk
"That's insane", Colby smiles proudly at me and i bump into him playfully. "Are you feeling alright?", he asks me almost whispering. We kept my pregnancy a secret and we intend to do so because we want to make sure everything is safe and sound until we make the announcement to our friends and family. Nobody knows except us and it's so hard to keep things hidden, especially when the morning sickness kicks in and the four of us are having breakfast. Colby found out that i am pregnant when i was already a few weeks in and i took the opportunity of not having Sam and Kat one night around. I cooked dinner and made a type of date at home. After we ate, i told Colby i have something for him and reached for a gift box, where i put the smallest pair of shoes, my pregnancy test and a note saying "come back to us after ghost hunting". There aren't enough words to express his happiness when he realised what was actually happening. We both cried happy tears and ever since then, our relationship became even stronger. He's very protective over me and loves taking care of me. It was so hard for him not to call his parents and tell Sam about the baby, but we both knew it is for the best to have it a secret.
"I'm great baby. The place just freaks me out, that's all", i assure him and i put my hand back on my belly for a split second.
"Let's try the spirit box. Y/N said she's still feeling him, maybe the shadow man will come through", i nod at Colby's words and he turns on the spirit box.
I cross my arms at my chest and Kat does the same, both of us leaning on the wall with our backs.
Hi Sam
"I'm sorry what", Sam's eyes grow wide and tries keeping his calm. We laugh at his reaction.
"You're not coming back to Vegas", Kat jokes and we laugh even more.
Corner
"Are you in the corner?", Colby asks but i shake my head no before he would get an answer
"He's not there. He's closer to us, i just can't see him", i look around the room, but can't see anything out of the ordinary
Be careful
You carry something *interference* valuable
"What?", Colby asks, unable to comprehend the whole sentence
"Something valuable?", Sam frowns. "We have money, do you want us to leave you some dollars?", he looks around the room
I look at Colby who's just as concentrated as Sam.
Engage
Y/N
"Engage myself, what?", i chuckle
"i think conversation wise", Colby points out and we laugh.
"That makes more sense", i say and take a step forward. Cold air floats in the middle of our group. "Hi, I'm y/n and I'm a medium. I would love it if you would come forward so i could see you. We mean no harm, we just want to understand your world better", i look into the camera that Colby holds. "It's weird every time i say that". He chuckles behind the camera.
You should go home
Not your place
I'll harm *interference*
"You can't harm any of us. We'll leave when we have more answers", i say and i get dizzy all of a sudden, but play it cool.
You have a baby
Keep it hidden
My face goes as white as a wall and look to Colby whose eyes were wide and his bottom lip starts quivering in anger.
"What baby?", Sam asks confused and looks at Kat
"Don't look at me?", she frowns at him
Both Colby and i keep quiet and wait for something to happen.
Y/N
"Well fuck", i nervously laugh. I massage my forehead with my fingers.
"Wait what? You're pregnant?", Kat asks loudly and i look at Colby who starts laughing from behind the camera. He puts the camera on a chair and comes by my side. He hugs me from behind and puts his hands on my growing belly. Colby shows the shape of my barely noticeable bump and they hug us one by one, congratulating us.
"When did this happen?", Sam asks colby
"Almost two months ago. We wanted to keep it a secret until we made sure everything is going the right way.", he kisses the top of my head.
"We're so happy for you, this is insane", Kat says and holds my hand in support.
"Thank you, we love you", we have a group hug and go back to investigating. Sam takes the camera while Colby stays close to me.
"Can you give us a sign that you're here?", Colby asks and a loud bang is immediately heard. "Thank you. Can you use this device to talk to us?", he points to the spirit box once again
Leave
You're not supposed to be here
As the second sentence is said, the dizziness becomes heavier and i lean on Kat for some support.
"Are you ok?", she asks worried
"I'm fine", i lie, but she grabs my hand
"You're burning", she says and puts the back of her hand on my forehead to check again. "Yes you are", the boys stop the spirit box to check on me. Colby puts a hand on my back.
"I'm fine", i lie again and i clear my throat when i feel like i can't breath. I move away from Kat and Colby and try taking a deep breath but fail. I loosen the collar of my blouse and try taking a deep breath again, choking for the need of air.
"Leave her alone!", Colby's deep voice echoes in the room, but i manage to exit it before i see any improvements of Colby's demand on the ghost. I sit on a chair. "Y/N, baby", he comes and kneels in front of me, while i try to catch my breath as i feel like running 5 miles.
"I'm ok now.", i say and lean my head to meet Colby's lips. We both get up and we hug each other. "My neck is burning, tho"
I realise there's something wrong when he gasps and his angry look takes over. "You have finger marks on your neck", his voice breaks and my mouth falls open. Sam comes to check on me too, shocked of how real the choke hold looks. As we talk, the chair i sat on earlier, falls on the ground, hitting the back of my leg. I jump in surprise of what happened. Colby grabs my arm and pulls me into his arms, protecting me.
"You are not allowed to hurt any of us anymore", i shout and a loud bang is heard again.
"The door just shut", Sam says trying to keep his calm. "He doesn't want us back there"
"He's right there", i point behind Sam and we all freak out.
"Is he doing something?", Colby asks
"No, but he's very angry", i feel nauseous and i clear my throat to shake the feeling away. A sharp pain under my abdomen makes me wince in pain. I put my hands over my belly as to protect the baby.
"Let's go, now", Colby almost shouts and starts running with me down the hallway to get me out of there. I take a deep breath when we arrive in the garden, already feeling better. "Hey, you ok? Do you need anything? We can go to the doctor, there's definitely someone working this late", he almost says everything without taking a breath. I kiss him and he relaxes under my touch.
"I feel good. We can go for a check up just to make sure, but I'm feeling alright, babe", he sighs in relief and kisses my forehead.
"I don't know what i would do if something happened to the two of you", he hugs me tightly and his body shivers.
"You're going to be the best dad in the world.",i assure him, knowing he struggles with this thought ever since he found out about the baby.
"I really hope so. And i want to be the best husband in the world too", he smiles and i blush.
"You'll definitely be.", i say and kiss him once more.
#colby brock#sam and colby#colby brock imagine#colby brock smut#sam golbach#colby brock x y/n#colby brock x reader
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can I see an ashi and gigi interaction <//3 look she even has an emote 🌺
KIDDING!!!!!! BUT HI I WANT MORE GIGI CONTENT 🫶 really curious about 🦐🦑🍄 octotrio? this is my attempt at more unagi crumbs BUT!!! I AM GEN CURIOUS ABOUT OCTO INTERACTIONS 🫣 don’t think I’ve seen gigi interact w the other two ssssso 👁️👁️
in a nutshell?
if these three carked it right in front of them, gia would at long last repent and hole up in a nunnery like the good lord intended.
jk. (kinda)
on paper, gia is the octotrio’s personal henchboy as payment for a “favor” floyd does them a little prior/early into the events of book 5. (currently working on a one-shot that goes into this) originally gia’s tenure under the mostro lounge was only meant to be for a few weeks, but it’s made readily apparent once the octotrio finds use in something they are not about to let it slip through their fingers.
so begins the trio's pattern of finding even the smallest infractions on gia’s part as cause to extend their servitude under them. this is, understandably, why there's little love lost between them. i’d say gia prays for the trio’s downfall, but gia isn’t religious and far too proactive to wait around for that to happen.
they’ve made it their personal mission not to leave nrc until octavinelle is burning at their feet.
…
in reality, gia’s relationship with the octotrio is quite complicated.
they’ve been an absolute pain in the neck in every single encounter, but it doesn’t take gia long to realize the octotrio is their speedrun towards getting some REAL power in their hands. proud and hard-working they may be, gia is ultimately a pragmatist at heart.
though a bit of a showman, azul IS an undeniably powerful mage with many a tentacle in many a pie. the twins are nothing to sneeze at either.
as much as gia hates their guts, these three are their chance to make it not only to graduation but to actually make something of themself when staying at night raven is no longer an option.
and that’s not even getting into the growing familiarity between gia and the trio steadily murking the waters…
—
🦑 AZUL ASHENGROTTO: (tagging @thehollowwriter since you also sent an ask for azul)
perhaps the most subtle dynamic of the three (making it the hardest to explain) gia's view of azul can be largely inferred by their joke-title for him: boss.
if azul wants something done, then gia gets it done. gia proves themself an incredibly adept asset to azul and it's why azul pulls whatever strings he can to keep them under his thumb.
that said, while gia puts up with much of azul's overworking and respects they are indebted to the trio by not putting up much of a fuss-- azul is aware he occasionally has to sweeten the pot if he wants to keep it that way.
he'd be a fool to forget this was the same person who got all his original contracts turned to dust. and besides: what good, gracious employer doesn't reward his employees for their hard work?
so azul doesn't mind giving gia access to a few of his private merchandise channels, maybe even some of his more advanced grimoires and alchemy notes, etc.
this dynamic remains largely unchanged for a while, though if one were to squint they might catch a degree of casualness peppering their interactions over time. they indulge in subtle sniping-- even minor trolling-- namely from gia who finds azul an easy target.
they are not fully aware of how things have changed until @cyanide-latte's chrysanthos shroud makes quite a bitter impression on them both. in a low moment surprising even azul, he admits to gia that shroud makes him feel inadequate as a housewarden-- made worse by the fact azul knows it isn't shroud's intention. shroud, in his own way, truly embodies the spirit of benevolence an octavinelle housewarden should be and it's something azul wonders he'll ever be able to do himself. (you can read more on this in cy's post: here!)
gia, in an attempt to give azul the peace of mind that they won't try to use this moment of weakness against him (and bolstered by the knowledge this could come in as blackmail should he think to use what they're about to tell him), shares a bit of their own worries shroud managed to jar loose.
working for the trio is hard, however, it's also been the path that's given gia the most opportunities. but, with the trio being a year ahead of them, gia is well aware their time with them is limited. they can’t help but mull over what is to become of them when the trio leave for their senior internships. gia will likely never see them again and likely be nothing more than a footnote from the trio’s school lives. a strange, magicless weirdo from another dimension, wasn’t that a fun little story?
gia’s probably going to have a lot of free time as a junior and who knows how they plan to go about senior year, frankly, they’re a bit at a loss with themself…
anyway. if it weren't for azul """kindly""" giving them the chance to gain what they DO have by working for him (or whatever), they'd probably be even more lost than they are now. he's a pain and a half, but he's probably not the worst housewarden in octavinelle history.
at this, azul reminds gia he's made his plans to branch out the mostro lounge to the public quite clear. gia wouldn’t be bound to them anymore, but it'd be a shame to let their experience at the school's location go to waste, wouldn't it?
—
🍄 - JADE LEECH
gia's relationship with jade is probably the strangest because despite jade being the one that wigs gia out the most, he is also the one gia openly gets along with the best.
fun fact: gia opened up their own club. the biking club. they are the only person in said club because, for some reason or another, they reject anyone who tries to get in. it might have to do with the fact the reason the club exists is because they needed an excuse to have a bike on school grounds they are allowed to ride anywhere unquestioned-- such as for personal errands or scavenging for potion ingredients. this includes up in the mountains.
y'know who else is often in the mountains..?
because of this little coinkidink, jade found a very weak and fevered gia struggling to get off the ground because they'd stupidly decided to go out foraging while sick. and of course, what good, gracious vice-housewarden of octavinelle wouldn't lend a hand to a poor, unfortunate underclassman in need despite their fervent protests? they're obviously, deliriously ill and are unaware of what's best for them…
indebted to jade on top of the octotrio as a whole, gia lost what little personal time they had as president of their own one-man club. now the biking club is (semi-officially) affiliated with his mountain lovers' club-- meaning gia accompanies him whenever he goes and bikes him around trails whenever he feels like it.
in theory, being alone up a mountain with jade leech should be terrifying, but gia sincerely enjoys these outings. jade is not only incredibly well-versed in mountain flora but a skilled potionologist in his own right.
honestly, it’s not bad.
—
BONUS:
BONUS BONUS:
they're friends :)
@inmateofthemind @simons-twsted-children @tixdixl @jovieinramshackle @blithesharem @theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk (lemme know if anyone wants to be included in tags)
#this is another thing ive had squirreled away for months#you asked for floyd as well i know but just the other two alone gave me a hard time WHEEZE#another day#oc ask meme#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#octotrio#octavinelle#gia yugo#yuusona#twst#twisted wonderland#twst oc#twisted wonderland oc#disney twst#oathofoaks
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Piece of a Puzzle, (18+)
♡ Pairing: Duke’s Son!Seungmin x Princess!Reader
♡ Genre: royal au, fake dating, angst, fluff, love triangle, best friends to fake lovers to real lovers, so much pining from seungmin, slow burn-ish?, eventual smut
♡ Word Count: 20.4k (lmao it was not supposed to be this long...)
♡ Summary: For as long as Seungmin can remember, he’s been in love with you; and for as long as he can remember, you’ve been in love with Hyunjin. Desperate for Hyunjin to see you as a woman and no longer as a best friend or metaphorical sister, you ask Seungmin to pretend to be your boyfriend to make him jealous- you have nothing to lose, and nothing could go wrong! At least, that’s what you both think until your fake relationship with Seungmin begins to reveal feelings for you that he wanted to keep buried, and feelings in you that you didn't realize you had.
♡ Warnings: I know some people hate love triangles so if that is you then this fic is not for you I am sorry gsddgfd, I also wouldn't read this if you're not okay with characters who make mistakes and act selfishly lol, seungmin says mean things but it's all in the spirit of teasing and banter and he is not actually a mean person I promise, mentions of falling in freezing water, being sick + taking medicine, and mc makes 1 joke about killing seungmin.
♡ Smut Warnings (contains spoilers): virgin reader + virgin seungmin, loss of virginity, no intended d/s dynamics but reader is usually the one taking the lead lol, lots of kissing per usual, handjob, nipple play, unprotected piv, creampie
♡ Notes: it took me forever to come back to this series but the next member to get their royal au fic is seungmin <3 unlike my previous royal au fics, this one is in a modern setting which i hope makes for a fun dynamic and is a good change of pace from my other aus !
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
If you were to ask Seungmin what his favorite thing about having two best friends was, it would've been how special it was to be a trio. You, Seungmin, Hyunjin- the three of you inseparable since you were babies, spending hours giving the attendants and guards watching over you trouble, getting into snowball fights in the winter and camping out in the gardens during the summer.
Countless days spent splashing around in the lakes and ponds near your estates and coming back with muddied feet, making messes in the kitchens when you disastrously tried to figure out how to bake a cake for your upcoming birthday, and giggling to each other even as your elders got red in the face from scolding you.
It was perfect, really- the happiest days of Seungmin's life, all spent in carefree bliss.. until you all started to get older. It was all so mindless when you were children; all Seungmin ever really comprehended back then was that you were all of similar age, and becoming friends was a natural and perfect arrangement thanks to your parents (who Seungmin realized were all important people, though he was too young at the time to understand why or how.) You, the princess in the east, Hyunjin, the prince in the west, and Seungmin, the duke's son born in the middle of both territories, whose father allied himself to both nations and was a revered peacekeeper.
He can still remember fondly the nights before it all became so different; when you'd have guard sanctioned sleepovers in the ballroom, how you'd run and splash in the rain, your laughter carrying even as the three of you became soaked and eventually scolded for dripping water onto the pristine castle floors. You'd slip out of royal events to go hangout together on the balconies, in the library, or anywhere really, as long as it wasn't full to the brim with your pretentious elders talking politics and future marriage.
But Seungmin made the mistake of falling in love with you, and you fell in love with Hyunjin, and that's where it all falls apart.
The situation is dramatic, you're dramatic- the way you whine and flail on the bed, claims of how you'll "just die" if Hyunjin doesn't finally realize you're the woman of his dreams. Seungmin sits across from you on your chaise near the balcony of your extravagant bedroom, trying not to react too strongly one way or the other. As the only person you can confide in on this topic, Seungmin is used to hearing you pour your heart out to him about Hyunjin.
He likes to think he's used to it, anyways; that it doesn't hurt anymore because he simply doesn't let it, but any outsider looking in would be able to tell that isn't true. His smile falters, his bright eyes dull, his heart sinks to the pit of his stomach- because you will never love him with the same intensity you love Hyunjin. But it's been this way for years now; you are hopelessly in love with the prince of the neighboring country, while Seungmin is tragically in love with you. He really should just get over it already.
You've gone on and on and on about how Hyunjin is the ideal man- beautiful, educated, kind, dependable, artistic- everything Seungmin feels he cannot compare to. It's so pathetic, he feels pathetic; he never even put much thought on being of equal standing to the two of you until you started confiding in him about your feelings for Hyunjin, pouring out your heart and simultaneously breaking his with each new admission. Seungmin himself didn't even realize how in love with you he was until he was firmly faced with rejection; and it's almost funny how he's rejected before he can even try.
"I just want him to like, finally see me as a woman, y'know? I'm not the little girl you guys grew up with anymore!" you wail before shoving your face into one of your many pillows, huffing and whining in frustration as you kick your feet up and down. Apparently, you have come to find out that Hyunjin still views you as more of a sister than a potential lover, and you've spent the entire afternoon whining as you try to think of what else you can possibly do to make Hyunjin see you differently.
Seungmin wishes he could do the same- make you see him differently, as someone other than the best friend, almost brotherly figure you grew up with. But it's not meant to be, and Hyunjin has already won the race for your affection without even realizing he was part of it. "Stop being so dramatic," Seungmin complains half-heartedly, hoping you think his deadpan tone comes from just being mildly annoyed and not in fact utterly heartbroken.
You lift your head from the pillows and glare at him, but he just rolls his eyes before he lets his own head fall back against the cushion of the chaise, staring up at your impossibly pristine ceiling. "But we're a perfect match! He's a prince, I'm a princess, and I love him!" you whine, throwing one of your pillows at Seungmin when all he does is scoff instead of console you.
He throws the pillow back at you without even turning his head in your direction, and you throw it back harder than you did before, making him finally turn his gaze back in your direction. "Will you stop? Crybaby," Seungmin says, hoping to shift the conversation back to something that doesn't tear his heart to shreds. "Maybe he'd like you more if you weren't such a brat when you don't get your way."
"Seungmin!" your frown grows as you cross your arms, "do you have to be so mean to me when I'm literally heartbroken?" He has a point, that's true enough- you are acting a bit like a spoiled brat right now. But he could at least wait until later to call you out on it! You don't understand why he's always so mean when it comes to your feelings about Hyunjin. It's his personality to tease and be playfully mean in his banter, but when your feelings for your other best friend are the topic it never feels like it's purely in jest.
"Look, I get that he and his family are starting to consider who he'll marry, but it's not like he's actually seeing anyone yet. I'm sure you still have time," Seungmin suggests after a frustrated sigh, and you huff, falling back to the pillows and staring up at your ceiling with yet another dramatic sigh. "Maybe you just don't get it because you've never been in love. The thought of losing him to someone else is.. painful.."
It's a moment of real vulnerability at the end, the pain and fear in your voice when the last words leave your lips evident. If only you knew he does understand all too well, faced with the very same reality every single day. You deal with your pain by complaining to Seungmin in overdramatic displays, while he bottles it all up and shoves it as deep inside his heart as it can go, hoping that he won't have to acknowledge the pain again until he's alone, in the safety of his bedroom where no one can see or hear him agonize over his unrequited love.
But like Seungmin said, there's still time.. Hyunjin and his family are looking over marriage prospects together, but at the end of the day the choice is entirely Hyunjin's, and surely there's something you can do before he starts going on dates and falls in love with someone else. You shoot up quickly, the apparent clarity zapping you with an idea. "You're a genius, Minnie! I don't have to wait for him to return my feelings at all, I can do something!"
"Uh... you're welcome..?" Seungmin sits back up and looks over at you, and he instantly regrets it. You're looking at him with puppy dog eyes, lip pouty and hands clamped together in what is clearly a plea for help. He's not even sure he wants to know what you're thinking of roping him into- whatever plan it is you're crafting, nothing good can come from it. Especially not when your plot is being conjured by pure emotional need.
"Seungmin.. Be my boyfriend, please! Help me make him jealous," you plea and his eyes instantly widen, mouth hanging open in complete shock. He and Hyunjin have had to talk you out of a lot of irrational acts during their time as your friend, but this takes the fucking cake. There's no way you are asking him to do this. "You can't be serious," he says after the initial shock passes and now you scramble to the edge of the bed, pout growing as you try to convince him.
"Seungmin, please-" "Absolutely not, no," he cuts you off and the desperate, heartbroken look he's met with shatters the already microscopic pieces of his heart into even smaller pieces- a feat he didn't even think possible. It's almost impressive how you manage to break his heart without even realizing it.
"Please, you know there's no one else I can ask," you plea, now completely off the bed and just inches in front of him, clasping his hands in yours. There it is- Seungmin, the consolation prize. Seungmin, the one you turn to simply because Hyunjin isn't available. Seungmin, who gets dragged into schemes like this because he just can't live with himself if he knows you're genuinely upset.
Your puppy eyes looking at him so pleadingly paired with your soft hands desperately clutching his is enough to make him melt. He swallows, averting his gaze from your pouting lips and glassy eyes, trying to stay firm in his sentiment. "It's a bad idea," he says, voice short and impossibly tense, "what will you do if it doesn't work? If he's just like.. a good friend, and supports us being happy together?"
"But what if he doesn't? C'mon Minnie, we at least have to try!" you push on, your hands squeezing his tighter. The fact that his statement doesn't seem to deter you at all somehow makes the pain in his chest even worse. Like there's no reality in which Seungmin is the viable love interest for you, like the possibility that Hyunjin would concede your heart to him couldn't ever be reality, like the idea isn't even worth entertaining.
"I.." He hesitates as he finally looks at you again, your face still impossibly close to his, the earnest desperation for him to help you with this stupid idea making his chest feel impossibly tight. Seungmin likes to think he's good at pretending to not have feelings for you, but he doesn't think he can do it while also pretending to be your boyfriend.
How is he supposed to be so close to you and pretend it was all empty acts and words when the night is over? He'll tell you he loves you and you'll think it's part of the act, praise him for being so committed to the bit for your sake, thank him for pretending so effectively. You'll take his heart in your hands and twist and bleed and crush it, and you won't even know you're doing it. "Please?" you try once more and his resolve utterly crumbles.
It's stupid how much power you have over him. It's stupid how he can't stand firm against what is very clearly a disastrous idea. It's stupid how he's going to willingly allow his heart to be trampled upon just to make you happy. "..Fine," Seungmin finally breathes out his answer, conceding without all that much of a fight in the end.
You happily squeal and wrap your arms around him in a tight hug, thanking him over and over again. And despite himself, Seungmin smiles- because even though he's going to suffer, at least you'll be happy because of him, even if it's only for a short while. "You're the best, Minnie! I love you!" you beam, eyes crinkling with pure joy that he's going to help you.
"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome," he says as he wraps his arms around you in return. It's a mistake, but if it's for you then isn't it a mistake worth making? And he has to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when you told him you loved him, has to remind himself that you'll never mean it in the way he wants you to, that every show of affection from this point onward will all be part of an elaborate performance.
The first rule of every fake relationship: set expectations and make a plan.
That's exactly why Seungmin finds himself visiting your room again following his foolish promise to be your pretend boyfriend. You bounce up to him in delight when he enters your room following a knock on the door, and he wishes that your excitement was genuinely for him, and not because you were going to be using him to make your shared best friend jealous.
Seungmin doesn't even believe Hyunjin will be jealous in the first place; he's never expressed having a romantic interest in you, and he thinks Hyunjin would confide in him if he did. But then again, it's not like Seungmin has ever confessed his feelings over you to Hyunjin either.. And the possibility that Hyunjin does love you, but simply never brought it up in the same way that Seungmin hasn't fills him with dread.
If this stupid plan works, and Seungmin actually helps you two come together.. he wants to think he'll be happy for you two, but who is he kidding? He'll be fucking gutted. "You look handsome today, boyfriend," you tell Seungmin happily, and he immediately freezes in place, hoping his expression is more incredulous than it is embarrassingly flushed red. What a way to be ripped out of his spiraling thoughts.
"Can you warn me next time you're about to say something stupid?" Seungmin tries to play it off as he takes his usual place on your chaise. "Sorry, just practicing," you follow up with a giggle, and he simply sighs as he watches you sit next to him. He's really gotten himself into trouble this time around, but it's too late to rescind his agreement to help your cause.
"I don't think most couples literally call each other "boyfriend" and "girlfriend" to their faces," Seungmin says, trying to smoothly ignore the 'handsome' part of your comment. It's superficial, you don't mean it, he already knows that; best not to let his mind dwell on a false hope of you one day meaning those words. "Well duh, I already know that," you say as you roll your eyes, "I'm just getting into character!"
Ouch. You have to get into character to love him, huh? It's not like he's surprised to hear it, but it hurts all the same. "Can't be too sure with you, sheltered princess and all," he teases and you roll your eyes again. "I'm not that sheltered. And TV exists! I'll have you know romance is my favorite genre."
"Great, so you get all your knowledge on romance from TV? How promising," Seungmin continues and you shove him, though all he does in response is smile at you. "Whatever, it's not like you know what you're doing either. You've never even had a girlfriend," you say and for a moment you think Seungmin is going to shove you back, but he doesn't.
His hands rise and almost touch you, but he hesitates before ultimately lowering them back down to his lap. It's been that way since you started getting older, as if the days you'd play wrestle or sleep while hunched together or hold hands while skipping through the castle never happened. Thinking about it, he stopped doing things like that around the same time you brought up your feelings for Hyunjin.
You assume he was being considerate, trying to be hands off so Hyunjin didn't get the wrong idea, but.. You wonder why you didn't realize how much he's been keeping his distance from you and hesitating to touch you until now? (And in reality, he stopped touching you when he realized he had feelings for you, and not when you admitted you like Hyunjin, but he's never going to clarify that fact to you.)
The other day, when you clutched his hands in yours in a desperate plea, it was the first time you held hands since you were kids. That's a sad thought, for some reason.. Maybe part of you missed it more than you realized. Taking his hand in yours, you really allow yourself to experience it this time.
It's nostalgic, holding his hand; though Seungmin's hands are much bigger now than when you were kids, they feel the same. Warm, comforting, gentle.. You wonder when the last time you did this was; you almost feel bad that you can't remember. You were once holding hands every single day and then you just.. stopped. You're not sure why the thought makes you as sad as it does; probably just the natural melancholy that comes with nostalgia if you had to guess.
Seungmin awkwardly accepts your hold, looking at you curiously after he stops fidgeting his hand. "I kinda missed this," you admit, cheeks growing pink with the admission. You're not sure why saying it makes you blush- it's just Seungmin. "Me too," he responds, his own face equally as pink, though he hopes you don't notice. He looks down at your hands, fingers laced together, and his heart stirs.
Ignoring it, he looks back to you, expression nervous but entirely serious. "So uh- your plan.. what exactly is it?" he asks, surprised when you answer immediately. Guess you put a lot of thought into it; because while your answer isn't rehearsed necessarily, it is confident. "Well, you got your invitation to the ball right? That's where we'll tell Hyunjin we're dating! It's the perfect setting."
"But you literally hate going to that thing- are we really going to go just for that?" The annual Hwang family ball is much more politics than it is dancing. Seungmin can't think of a single time you all attended and actually had fun without having to sneak away or cause a scene. At best it's boring and at worst you're spending the entire night being lectured on the future of your countries and how important it is to marry the right person for political power.
"Yeah, unless you have a better idea?" You frown as you look at Seungmin. He doesn't, unfortunately. He's not even sure he'd suggest it if he did have one, to be fair. God, this is so stupid- he's stupid for agreeing to go along with this. Curse you and your ability to rope him into the worst things possible just by giving him a cute look.
And in the end, he easily accepts the plan- attend the ball, act like a lovey dovey couple, activate Hyunjin's underlying jealousy (that may not actually exist), and hopefully profit. In the meantime, you'll be "building credibility" by getting past all the awkwardness now, so that you can pass as a legit couple in front of Hyunjin when the time comes.
"You're really okay with this, right? It's okay to change your mind," you say with a compassionate squeeze to his hand. It takes Seungmin by surprise that you're actually considering his feelings- not to insinuate that you're entirely selfish or don't care about him, but you do tend to have a one track mind when it comes to your romantic feelings for Hyunjin.
You watch him carefully, his expression entirely unreadable to you. You wish you could tell what he was thinking in times like this, but he always becomes a stonewall when you bring up romance and your long harbored feelings. You know it must be for a reason, but he never tells you what it is, and you can only assume the topic of love makes him uncomfortable; and while you're grateful for his help, you don't want him to push through discomfort just for your sake.
"..Yeah, I'm good. This is fine, everything's fine," he finally says. You don't entirely believe him, but you don't press him on it- he'll just argue with you if you don't take his word for it. Stupid. You were clearly offering him an out and he just accepted his role as your emotional martyr. But who is he kidding- it's not like he would've been able to answer any differently, ever a slave to your whims.
Whether you realize it or not, you have him in the palm of your hands, and Seungmin would do anything to make you happy- even at the detriment to himself. "So.. uh, do you want to kiss me?" you transition and Seungmin has to make a conscious effort to not choke on his own spit. Because how are you asking him that so casually?
"No, you're gross," he answers; a lie, obviously, but he didn't realize this fake relationship would entail anything other than mild displays of affection and maybe the use of petnames. If he kisses you it's over for him. Completely, utterly over- he'll never be able to pretend you're just his friend ever again.
You roll your eyes as you let go of his hand, and he frowns; he misses the warmth already, but what right does he have? "You can just say no without the gross comment, asshole," you shove him again. Seungmin is always mean to you, so it's not like you weren't expecting a comment like that when you decided to bring up kissing. You might've hoped for a different reaction, but you certainly weren't expecting anything profound or romantic.
...Why were you hoping for a different reaction in the first place?
"No, that's- I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, I just-" It's almost endearing how Seungmin fumbles with his words. You blink at him, surprised to see him floundering to admit you're not actually gross to him. Poor Seungmin- being mean to you is his only defense mechanism and now it's going to bite him in the ass. No wonder you don't have feelings for him.
In reality, he thinks you're pretty. So fucking pretty. And he wants to kiss you more than he's ever wanted anything. "Force of habit," he finally says, swallowing down his true thoughts and feelings as usual. Thankfully, you accept his answer easily; he's not sure whether you truly believe him or not, but he'll take what he can get. "Have you ever kissed someone?" you decide to ask, moving swiftly along after taking his answer at face value. Thank God.
"Once," he answers, and oh, that's a surprise; you expected him to say 'no,' to be like you- with zero experience. You're best friends- why hasn't he told you..? To be fair, it's not that Seungmin kissed someone- he was the one being kissed by someone else. The distinction is very important! And he can see the question lingering before you even ask it, so he takes the initiative in answering. "It was awkward. I didn't.. feel the same way as them."
"Oh. I didn't realize there are people that like you," you say and Seungmin instantly shoots you with an incredulous look. "Ouch," he deadpans. "No, sorry- I didn't mean for that to sound so mean, I swear," you promise with an awkward laugh. At least now you're equal on the "making unintentionally hurtful comments" front.
You've thought at great length what it would be like if Hyunjin started dating someone, but you're just now realizing you never put any thought into Seungmin dating someone. You guess you just always expected that he'd be there.. you never stopped to think about what would happen if he wasn't, never even considered it a possibility that he wouldn't always be right there next to you.
And it would happen eventually, wouldn't it? And what about when you and Hyunjin are a couple; you two will have each other and Seungmin will.. well, you don't know what he'll do. But you don't like the thought of him being anymore distant. What a way to realize how selfish you're being. “Sucks that it was awkward,” you eventually say, ignoring the way guilt starts to eat at you. No surprise that the selfish princess doesn’t want to confront that issue just yet.
“Yeah.. honestly, I felt bad. I’m sure it took a lot of courage to confess and kiss me, but I,” already had feelings for you, he thinks, but obviously opts to say something else, “just didn’t feel the same.” Lord knows Seungmin will never have that same level of courage; to put yourself out there and confess only to be met firmly with rejection is terrifying. And he knows you don’t feel the same, so why even try? Being a coward suits him perfectly fine in this case.
“Why didn’t you accept anyways? You might’ve returned the feelings after becoming a couple and growing closer to them,” you ask, earnestly curious. You think you would give someone a chance if they confessed to you if you weren’t already so in love with Hyunjin. But as far as you knew, Seungmin didn’t have feelings for anyone, so there would’ve been nothing to lose from trying. If only that were true- his life would be much easier if he wasn’t earth shatteringly in love with you.
“Mm, maybe. But if months went by and I still didn’t, I would’ve felt scummy. Like I was stringing them along and giving them a false promise, y’know? And I don’t wanna be that guy,” Seungmin answers, keeping out the major detail of ‘I’m also impossibly in love with you and dating someone while being in love with your best friend is definitely frowned upon.’ “Wow. I think I respect you more after that,” you say and Seungmin scoffs, unable to hide the smile that breaks on his lips. “Gee, thanks. Glad to know you didn’t respect me before now.”
“Hey, I clearly said ‘respect you more!’ Meaning I did respect you, thank you very much,” you laugh. There’s a silence that follows when the giggling dies down and the smiles fade, with Seungmin looking at you carefully. Right. He’s here to be your fake boyfriend. Better get back to the quest at hand. “So.. I’m not actually gross, huh?” you ask, bringing the conversation back to where it began. “Only a little,” he teases, laughing when you grab a spare cushion to shove at him.
“Stop being mean, I’m trying to be serious!” You whine as he tosses the cushion you shoved in his face to the floor. “Okay, okay,” Seungmin says, his expression softening as he looks at you. In reality, he thinks you’re perfect; but it’s much easier to tease and pretend you disgust him than to face how beautiful he thinks you are. But with how seriously you’re taking this entire thing, it seems he’s going to have to be more earnest with himself, and you, than he was prepared to be.
He really fucked himself over this time around.
"Theoretically.." you start, chewing on your lip before you continue, "Hypothetically-" "Those words mean the same thing," Seungmin can't help but interrupt, laughing as you shove him and tell him to 'shut the fuck up.' You hate him sometimes- fucking menace to your sanity, you swear. "Hypothetically," you continue when he's done laughing and you're sure he's ready to take you seriously, "assuming you're being honest and I'm not gross. Would you want to kiss me?"
Well. Guess there's no avoiding it now. It's time for the thing Seungmin fears most- some good, old fashioned honesty about his feelings. "Yes," is all he says; no further elaboration, no talk on whether or not this is still strictly in the realm of hypotheticals, or if he'd only be okay with it under some sort of condition being met. Just.. yes, he'd want to kiss you.. wants to kiss you. That's it.
You can’t believe how easily he conceded in the end; you wonder if another mean, teasing joke is inbound, or if he doesn’t quite get what you’re insinuating. "You know I mean on the lips right? Like.. an actual kiss?" You ask, wanting to ensure you're on the same page and he's not just thinking, like.. forehead or cheek kisses or something. All of which will still be part of this fake relationship, but still; better to make sure everything is clarified. "Yeah, I assumed that," he replies and you simply blink.
You're not sure why, but that does something to your heart. "And.. you're okay with that..?" "Yeah..? I thought we established I didn't mean it when I said you're gross. I was just teasing," he says plainly, as if the topic you're discussing is completely normal. Well, maybe that's the attitude you should have too- it's no big deal, right?
It's not that strange for two best friends to kiss, it happens all the time! And this was all your idea in the first place; you don't even understand why you feel so weird about it all of the sudden. Sure, not thinking you're gross and wanting to kiss you are two different things entirely, but you're thinking about it too hard.
Seungmin is just being a good friend to you. He's nonchalant about it because all of this is simple; it's supposed to be simple. Just one friend casually helping out another. If anything it's a relief he has no hang ups about it, right? It makes this whole thing easier! (The reality: he is not nonchalant. He is practically screaming inside over the idea of kissing you- you just don't know it.)
Blushing and heart twisting for reasons beyond your understanding, you opt to just take his hand in yours again instead, averting your eyes from him and training them off to the distance. Your bedroom walls are very interesting all of a sudden. "Maybe later," you mumble and he nods, relieved as he squeezes your hand. Yeah, maybe later. He doesn't think he's ready to fall for you even harder just yet anyways.
Weeks pass, and your fake relationship develops slowly but organically thanks to the Hwang's ball being further away still. You expected becoming "natural" in your relationship would take time, which is why you wanted to get a headstart on practicing being close. Your heart still stirs in unexpected moments, but mostly you feel comfortable, which is perfect.
Some awkwardness and shy closeness would be natural, but you can't appear stiff in front of Hyunjin if you want to pass as a genuine couple- the goal is for the relationship to look fresh, not forced. Due to this, you and Seungmin hold hands a lot these days. You like it, to be honest. It reminds you of all these thoughts and memories you hadn't lingered on in years. Of play dates and toothless smiles and laughing as you trip and tumble and grow dirty. You missed it.
You missed this too- cuddling, same as the hand holding. It's something you hadn't done since you were kids, and similarly, you couldn't remember the last time you had done it before now. You find yourself thinking it's a shame you ever stopped. You're currently laying against him, head on his shoulder while one of his arms is wrapped around your waist, legs tangled together on your obscenely large sofa while some movie you long since stopped paying attention to plays on your equally large tv.
You practiced calling each other petnames, but they all felt weird- in the end, the only thing that felt natural was sticking to calling each other stupid, idiot, asshole, brat.. And somehow hearing Seungmin call you a selfish brat before he hugs you with a smile makes your heart skip a beat these days. It doesn't make sense, but you don't let yourself dwell on it or think about it too hard- this is all for a purpose, and it's better to just leave it at that.
When you suggested trying out cuddling today, you didn’t expect your mind to go to so many complicated places. "Hey Minnie, do you remember the last time we cuddled like this?" you decide to ask him, tilting your head up to be able to catch a glimpse at him. "Yeah. We were 12," he answers easily, and you can just barely see this corner of his mouth lifted in a fond smile.
"Really?" you question and he tilts his head to look at you. He answered so quickly; no delay in the slightest, didn't even have to waste any time thinking on it or trying to remember- he just.. already knew. The instantaneous ease in which he responded surprises you as equally as it fills you with guilt.
"Of course. You don't remember?" he asks and pangs of guilt over not being able to remember yourself grow painfully. You never expected to feel so terrible over something so small. "Not really.." you answer with a frown; you wish you did, especially since Seungmin seems to have his own memory of your childhood closeness perfectly intact, but you simply.. don't remember.
"Gosh, I'm so hurt. You care for me so little," Seungmin teases, but all you can do is continue to frown. You can't bring yourself to hit him with a witty quip or joke that you hate him- because part of you worries that how inattentive you've been thus far would give rise to him one day believing your statements made to poke fun are how you truly feel. And right now you just honestly, truly feel bad.
His expression softens when he realizes you're genuinely saddened, assuming it's because he took the teasing too far by insinuating you don't care about him. In reality, it's not him you're upset with but yourself. And it stings to realize that maybe what he says isn't completely wrong- maybe you really have cared about him too little.
Maybe if you weren't so hyperfocused on love and romance with Hyunjin, you'd have realized sooner how much you put your friendship with Seungmin on the wayside. You wish you'd been a better friend. "It's to be expected actually,” Seungmin attempts to rectify his mistake in wording (though truly it's not his fault or a ‘mistake’- your guilt is your own, and all he did was unintentionally spark some much needed self reflection.) “You were sick as fuck and loaded on cough syrup."
"Oh!" You exclaim suddenly, a vague memory in the very back of your mind becoming clearer now. Just as Seungmin said, you were 12 and suffering from the worst cold you'd ever had in your entire life. You felt like you were dying and it was your own fault it happened; a blizzard had just passed, and you insisted on playing in the freshly fallen heaps of snow with your two best friends.
The lake near the castle had completely frozen over in the storm, and despite being repeatedly warned how unsafe it is to play on a frozen lake, you were just a kid who thought you were invincible. Every kid is overconfident and zealous, truly believing no harm or wrong can come to them until the world teaches them a lesson in humility- and that's exactly what happened that day.
You skated around on the frozen lake, paying no heed to any of the warnings you received, laughing and giggling without a care in the world even as you slipped and slid around on the slick surface of the ice. But eventually you fell, of course you did, it was ice- and the moment your weight collided with the surface of the lake, it cracked.
It's hard to remember what followed- all you really remember was how your whole body froze the minute it touched the icy water, as if all your limbs had become pure lead. But Seungmin was there, and Hyunjin too, and they pulled you out and got you back inside as fast as they were able. It honestly came as no surprise that you got sick following your unceremonious ice bath.
Seungmin and Hyunjin got a bit sick too, but their sniffles and slight coughs paled in comparison to your symptoms. Hyunjin's parents made him return home to shake off his cold, but Seungmin's didn't mind if he got over his slight cold with you in the castle. Even with the spark of clarity it's all still vague, but you can just remember it now- how Seungmin was glued to your side the entire rest of the week as your body tried to fight off the illness.
He was there when your attendants woke you to take your medicine, he was there when you drank your water and sipped your soup, he rubbed your back when you coughed and stroked your head when you complained that it hurt. He was.. sweet. The entire time. The usual Seungmin who teased and complained was nowhere to be seen, even when you unintentionally got snot on his shirt.
Instead, he was just sincerely caring. And he cuddled you, let you soak up all his warmth because no matter how many layers of blankets you were under and despite the constant fueling of the fire in your fireplace, you still felt so impossibly cold. "I remember now," you tell him and the smile you're met with stirs something within you.
Or maybe it's the memory of how sweet he can be when he's not being a jackass. Maybe it's how underneath his layers of teasing comments and sarcastic words, he's genuine. He remembers things, always remembers things, even when the moments are small and fleeting. And maybe it's how even when he complains or calls you a selfish brat, he'd still do anything for you.
Even now, years later, he's still just the same in that regard. Cares about you, would do anything for you, wants you happy even when your happiness causes him trouble and inconvenience. All his sarcasm and jokes at your expense will fade the minute you're genuinely unwell, he'll drop everything he's doing the minute you need him for something serious, because underneath his layers and walls he'll always be someone selfless and kind.
You sit up ever so slightly, just enough to get a clearer view of him while still tangled in his arms and legs. You breathe his name in a whisper, and his eyes dart around your face as he tries to figure out what you’re doing, what you’re thinking while looking at him so.. attentively. It makes him nervous when you look at him like that, makes him feel like you can see right through him and read his every thought, like he’s nothing but cellophane.
And you kiss him. You kiss him. Soft and chaste, your lips just barely pressed to his, but still he crumbles, his sandcastle heart caught by your wave. His weak heart pounds, his blood races through his veins, he blinks in surprise and still can't seem to find himself or formulate a thought even when you pull away. What even just happened?
"S-Sorry," you flush instantly as you turn your eyes away from Seungmin's heating face. You can't believe you just kissed your best friend like that. And like.. you fully expected to give Seungmin your first kiss as part of this whole charade, but it was supposed to be a moment that only happened after meticulous planning and mental preparation. This was undeniably, purely the heat of the moment.
"Uh, I.. it just.. felt right. For practice..?" you stumble as you try to formulate an excuse for your own unexpected actions. Yeah. It was for practice, that's all. You aren't in love with him- you love Hyunjin. What you felt when you kissed him just now was.. something else. That's what you tell yourself, because it's the only thing that makes sense.
"Oh, right. Yeah, that makes sense," Seungmin utters quietly, sounding almost.. disappointed. You look at him again, and catch just a glimpse of sadness in his eyes before it fades completely, almost as if it was never there. And maybe it wasn't- maybe you're.. projecting, somehow? Do you want Seungmin to be sad that the kiss doesn't mean more?
You don't know. It's confusing. And you hate that you don't know why it's confusing, that you don't understand where all these conflicting thoughts and feelings are coming from and what they mean. You don't want to admit it, but maybe he was right; maybe this whole thing wasn't a good idea.
He sees the struggle on your face, but there's no way for him to know that it's due to confusion about your feelings, how you liked kissing him and how you don't know what that says about you or about your feelings- for him or for Hyunjin. Instead, he worries that you hated it, that kissing him filled you with disgust and regret and now you were trying to figure out how you can ever look at him again.
But you do look at him again, of course you do. And despite the confusion and the struggle from your complex, raging emotions, you meet his eyes softly. You reach for a hand and squeeze, and once again he feels like you see right through him, see all the ugly dread and guilt and sorrow that comes from being in love with you. You see him and he sees you, and though it's confusing and clearly disastrous, neither of you want to let it go just yet.
"Do you.. want to keep practicing..?" he asks hesitantly, a hint of hope in his unsteady voice. A hope he shouldn't have, a hope he feels you will sternly reject. But you don't. You smile at him, a timid one he thought only ever reserved for Hyunjin, and you nod. "Yeah, do you?" you ask, and all Seungmin replies with is a simple "yeah" of his own before your lips are on his again.
You kiss him and he kisses you, and sometimes it's awkward as you bump noses or ever so slightly miss and instead kiss the corner of his mouth, but in the end it all becomes natural, rhythmic, easy. Butterflies thrash in your stomach, your heart races, your face burns, his lips are soft and warm and perfect, and through it all, for the first time in all your years, you stop thinking about Hyunjin, and linger exclusively on Seungmin.
Kissing Seungmin makes you feel strange. It doesn't feel bad, nor wrong, or uncomfortable; but strange because of what it evokes in you. When he left for his guest room that night, and you had more time to think about what you’d done, you came to the conclusion that the butterflies would pass now that it was over. That you only felt them because kissing, regardless of it being with your best friend, was foreign and new. You thought that as you got used to kissing him, that deceitful fluttering in your stomach would gradually fade.
You expected that kissing him would become as second nature to you as holding hands, and eventually you’d feel.. maybe not nothing when kissing him, but certainly you wouldn't still be reactive. What has actually happened is rather the opposite; your heart skips a beat when he enters your room now, you unconsciously flush whenever he holds you closer, your stomach knots itself when he smiles following a kiss.
He smiles a lot more these days; or maybe you only perceive it that way because part of you wants it to mean something more than it does. That’s what frustrates you most of all; no matter how much you tell yourself it’s just practice, that this means nothing to either of you and is only a means to an end, you find yourself struggling to come to peace with that idea. Confusion and guilt eat at you, complex feelings and emotions you didn’t even know you had rising to the surface one after the next, protesting being ignored and making themselves acutely known.
There’s a question that burns in the back of your mind, something you’re scared to confront but know you must before this is over- is your love for Hyunjin genuine or superficial? Do you love him the way a lover truly would, or do you love the idea of being with him? The idea that your romance would be a picture perfect fairytale, because he’s a prince and you’re a princess and those two things just naturally go together.
Perhaps your understanding of love is inherently naive and flawed; perhaps all these years spent pining, you were chasing an ideal rather than a person. But misguided though it may be, your love for Hyunjin has to be true; because apart from being one of your best friends, he’s objectively perfect for you. Seungmin is rough and jagged, while Hyunjin is polished and smooth. Though more tempered and refined than yourself, Hyunjin matches your flair for the dramatic, while Seungmin is oppositely rooted firmly in reality. Where Hyunjin is elegant words and gentle smiles, Seungmin is sarcasm and rolled eyes.
But that’s not entirely true, you know it isn’t; because while Seungmin is indeed sarcastic and mean and sometimes rough around the edges, he’s also gentle and sincere and passionate. He doesn’t show that softness within as easily as Hyunjin does, he's built up walls as he grew older for reasons that you couldn't begin to understand, but maybe that’s what makes it more special when he does let them fall, how you know he truly means it when he does something kind. His sweet smiles carry far more weight and depth than you ever stopped to realize.
“You okay? What’s up with you today?” Seungmin asks, careful but with a hint in his voice that he’s ready to tease depending on how you respond. Right. The reason you called him over today. You chew your lip as you look at him, and you know he’s been able to tell all day that something was off with you. You wanted to call this whole thing off, if you’re being honest; tell him you realized he was right, he’s always right, and this was a terrible idea that you shouldn’t have dragged him into.
But the moment you faced him you lost all your nerve. Your mouth ran dry, the words lodged themselves in your throat, and you couldn’t bring yourself to speak them. It’s so fucking selfish, but you realized that without this fake relationship keeping you together, the distance between you would return. Once the charade is over, he’ll go back to hardly ever returning your touch, to emotional walls stacked so high you fear you could never climb them, to strained smiles and equally strained words.
You’re not sure why Seungmin is more open these days; maybe intimacy and closeness, no matter the cause and regardless of lack of romantic intent attached to them, is enough to naturally break down a person’s barriers. You don’t even know why he has barriers, why he shields himself from you so strongly when you’re his best friend, but now that you’ve experienced him without his walls you don’t want to go back. You’re terrible and selfish and it’s hardly a justification to keep your fake relationship going, but still..
“Are you getting nervous?” he tries again; the ball is approaching quickly now, and he suspects maybe you’re off because you fear your performance as a couple won’t be good enough, that maybe you won’t be as believable as you need to be. You want to tell him he’s probably right, that it’s just nerves and you’ll get over it and everything will be fine with the moment comes, but you know that’s not all there is to it.
It feels so stupid looking back on how excitedly you chose a new dress for the occasion, planned how you’d match with Seungmin and parade yourself on his arm and bat your eyelashes at him while calling him the sweetest names you could come up with, all so Hyunjin would look on and maybe get jealous. You didn’t listen when Seungmin warned you it was a bad idea, didn’t entertain the truth that Hyunjin would likely be a good friend and not intervene, didn’t want to acknowledge how tunnel-visioned and selfish the fairytale romance you pursued made you.
You kissed him, held his hands, and hugged him close and cuddled him tight, and your heart ached and stomach fluttered and you ignored every blaring alarm in your brain because the ends were supposed to justify the means. And now you’re going to ruin not just one friendship, but two; because you don’t know how you’re going to face either of them when it all inevitably crashes and burns.
“I just.. aren’t I being really selfish? You told me this was stupid but I didn’t listen and now I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” you blurt it all out, watch as his eyebrows furrow and his expression changes. You don’t quite know what he feels; regret, frustration, exasperation..? All of them would be perfectly justified. You swallow and you clench your hands into fists and you finally make a selfless decision, one you should’ve made before all these weeks passed you by and you became attached to a version of your best friend you were never supposed to have. “We should stop.”
Seungmin looks.. almost hurt, before he lets out a laugh; you can’t tell if it’s based in self-deprecation, irony, annoyance, or something even further beyond what you can understand from him. “I agreed to this,” he says, grabbing your arm and making you look at him again when you try to turn away and avoid his gaze, “I wanted- want to help you. You know that, right? I know I can be difficult sometimes but I’d never lie about that.”
Maybe you are terribly selfish and maybe you are taking advantage of him and maybe his heart will shrivel and die the moment this ends, but he doesn’t fucking care. He can be selfish too and his selfishness makes him want to hold on for as long as he can, even if it’s fake, even if you never love him; pretending to is enough, it’s all he needs. “That’s the problem though, isn’t it? You’re so selfless and I just..” you trail off; you don’t know what more you can bring yourself to say.
He’s difficult, he’s frustrating, and he’s mean, but he’s not cruel. You know how sweet he actually is, how much he’d sacrifice for you if you asked him too, and it’s time you stopped relying on him for stupid shit like this and dragging him into your petty, dumb, naive problems and grow up a little. Stop being the selfish princess you were raised to be and start being someone worthy of Seungmin’s unwavering friendship instead. You’d never intentionally hurt him, but the problem is you probably have- countless times that you probably aren’t even conscious of because your self reflection has come just a little too late.
You started this whole thing because the idea of losing Hyunjin made your heart ache; but the idea of losing Seungmin, that knowledge that you’ve very likely taken and hurt and been a terrible friend for years doesn’t just make your heart ache- it rips it out entirely. It’s weird, considering them both best friends but realizing how different those friendships actually worked- and how losing Seungmin as a friend is far more gutting than losing a potential lover in Hyunjin.
And you know Seungmin would never hate you, would call you selfish or stupid or annoying but would absolutely never actually think badly of you, and that makes it all the worse. Seungmin wears a mask for you, you know it’s true even if you want to deny it; but the mask he wears is cracked, the paint is worn, and knowing it could all be your fault makes you feel impossibly anguished and sick.
Seungmin frowns and lets you look away, though he still hesitates to let you go. He does though, eventually, and he falls to his back on your bed with a sigh. “You don’t need to worry about me, this is all fine, I’m fine,” he says but you don’t entirely trust him. He’s too stubborn and selfless to admit you’ve ever hurt him, knows it would gut you to realize what you’ve done to him and so chooses to say nothing about it at all. Because regardless of the boundary of friend and lover and where you both lie in between those words, he loves you- not that you feel you deserve it.
This isn’t entirely your fault either- he gave in way too easily. He knew it was a bad idea and he should’ve been more stern, made you see reason even if it made you cry and pout and whine for hours on end. He knows you're selfish and spoiled and a little naive when it comes to what romance means but he didn’t do anything to genuinely shut you down- because beneath it all, he’s just as selfish as you, and he wanted to be your boyfriend for a just a little while, even if being your boyfriend meant nothing.
His walls are down but he’s still not being completely honest, you know he isn’t. The mask is back on but the cracks have grown, exposing more of the real Seungmin beneath, and he can’t hide himself away as easily as he used to- because now you’ve seen them. The cracks, the imperfections, the instability. And you’ve taken them all in, deduced that they’re your fault, and you won’t let it go- because that’s what stubborn people like you do. You pick and you prod and you poke, until something bends or breaks and you finally get the result you want.
But what do you want? To stop playing pretend? For Seungmin to admit that yeah, you have hurt him sometimes- not that he blames you. He knows it wasn’t ever once intentional, and he was never going to hold anything against you or leave you behind. Or maybe you want him to admit he’s in love with you, and that he’s just as fucking hopelessly in love with you as you are with Hyunjin, and that love he feels foolishly allowed for things to get way farther than they should have.
You look at him hesitantly, the way he’s fallen onto your bed, his shirt ridden half up his stomach from the fall and the way his caramel colored hair fans out around him. He’s beautiful and despite everything you’ve just said, you want to crawl on his lap and kiss him. You try to blink the thought away, to scrub your mind clean from thoughts you shouldn’t be having.
He sees the way your eyes linger on his lips, how you internally struggle between what you think you should and shouldn’t do, how even now you are trying to spare him when he doesn’t need to be spared. Consume him whole, eat away at him until there’s nothing left, he doesn’t fucking care- he just wants you, even if it’s temporary, even if you throw him away in the end in favor of someone better. Not if, he has to remind himself, but when- because it’s inevitable, because you’ll never love him as more than a friend.
Seungmin reaches out to you, is close to touching you, but just as he used to, he hesitates before he drops his hand. The distance returns, and that should be a good thing; it hurts, but isn’t it what’s right? You don’t.. You’re not in love with him. You can’t be- you just.. value him as a friend and don’t want to do anything to strain your friendship anymore than you already have. Everything you feel is confusing and weird and you don't know what to do with what you have now.
What to do with your urge to be closer to him, or the way you blush when he smiles and calls you names, or how the content sighs he lets out while kissing and cuddling makes your stomach do flips. How the way he unconsciously squeezes you tighter fills you with butterflies or how the way his hands linger before you begin to separate makes you want to go crawling back to his open arms.
And there’s the impure thoughts- the ones you’ve never even had about Hyunjin despite being in love with him. The ones you have when you see his shirt ridden up like it is now, or how those sighs when you kiss him would sound if you took things just a step further. You used to daydream about pure things like sharing a romantic dance or being given flowers on an anniversary- now your thoughts linger on things like Seungmin’s tongue in your mouth and his hand between your thighs. Things you definitely shouldn’t be daydreaming about if you’re as in love with Hyunjin as you say you are.
You suck in a trembling breath and again try to push the thoughts you shouldn’t have away. Seungmin’s expression is contemplative and gentle, full of a care you don’t deserve. It’s no surprise he can read you like an open book, can tell you’re more upset about this than you should be. It should be a comfort that this charade is coming to an end, but all you feel is sharp, stinging guilt and unbearable pain in your chest. Your eyes burn and you feel as if you’re going to cry, but how terrible would that be?
It would almost feel manipulative to cry in front of him now, after having put all that effort into trying to go back to normalcy. You’re so frustrated with yourself, so impossibly frustrated; you squeeze your clenched fists, your nails dig into your palms, your tears threaten to spill and you look away from Seungmin before they do. Because he’ll comfort you, and that’s not what you deserve. Obviously he knows, it’s not like you can hide it very well, but he doesn’t say anything.
Instead, he reaches out again- and this time, he doesn’t stop himself or hesitate. The distance you’ve put between you has already closed. He pulls you down to him, makes you fall against his chest, your head winding up somewhere between his heart and his shoulder. You can still hear it from your position above it, and the steady thumping soothes you. “The ball is soon,” he says quietly, “we can.. go as planned, and then decide what will happen with us after. If you still want to stop after that, it’s okay. Just.. don’t give up too soon.”
You can tell he’s trying to sound sure of himself, but he’s just as lost in all this as you are. And though you still feel rattled with guilt and uncertainty, you nod. You trust Seungmin, and you may as well see this fake relationship through to the end- and the Hwang ball is where you meet that end, one way or another. “Okay..” you mumble, chest tight and stomach knotted with guilt, but you do your best not to spiral again, to trust Seungmin’s word when he says you haven’t done wrong by him.
He calls your name and you look up at him expectantly. His mouth opens, he goes to speak, but whatever he wants to say is swallowed back down, and is instead replaced with something more familiar. “You’re.. really annoying,” he whispers before he kisses you, and there’s a relief that spreads through your veins. “Asshole,” you whisper back and you feel him smile, the comfortable normalcy returning even in this situation that is anything but normal.
You’re both stupid and stubborn and there’s no way this ends without someone having a broken heart, but for now it’s okay. For now, it’s all Seungmin needs; to be close to you and touch you and hold you and know that you were his, for however brief and false a time it may have been.
“Do you think we should share a guest room to make this more believable?” you mumble while walking through the halls of the Hwang Castle, hand intertwined with Seungmin’s while he carries both his luggage and your own. Hyunjin obviously prepared your rooms separately as you haven’t announced your relationship to him yet- not that it’s going to last much longer anyways. Whether you end up with Hyunjin by night's end or not, your fake relationship with Seungmin can’t proceed beyond this.
“I dunno,” Seungmin replies, though your question was more absentminded musing than a genuine question you were expecting to have answered by him. “Maybe? Technically speaking, we’ve been “dating” for a couple months now. It’d probably be normal.” You hum and contemplate his answer for a moment before you look at Seungmin with a smile. “Let’s share my room then! Hyunjin always gives me the biggest room available.”
“I fucking knew it,” Seungmin says in faux-exasperation as you giggle. He always felt like his guest rooms were smaller than yours; and he doesn't actually care, but it's fun to act like it bothers him, and it's even better to hear you laugh. “Spoiled brat. Still need luxury even when you’re in someone else’s place, huh?”
“Naturally. What kind of princess would I be if I didn’t get the best of everything?” He rolls his eyes despite the way a smile tugs on his lips and a laugh threatens to break. You turn a hall, and finally your guest rooms begin to come into sight- you've been to Hyunjin's place enough to know the layout, but it still doesn't make getting to the guest hall any less of a trek.
Seungmin unlinks your hands when you approach the double doors of the castle's best guest room, fumbling in his pocket for the keys you were given for just a moment before he finds the right one. He unlocks the door, walks inside with you and sets your luggage down in the corner of the room before turning to look at you. “You sure you want me to stay? I don’t mind going to my own room,” Seungmin offers and you quickly shake your head- maybe a little too quickly, but you won’t acknowledge how eager for him to stay you seem.
“Well, I’ll probably need help getting ready,” you say; an excuse, sure, but it’s reasonable at least. But what about after that? When the ball is over and so too is your act, regardless of whether you get results with Hyunjin or not- would Seungmin still stay? Would you want him to stay? You think you would; you don’t know what that means or what it says about you, but it’s honestly what you’d want.
“If you’re sure, don’t mind if I make myself comfortable then,” Seungmin says as he flops himself on the extravagant guest bed. There’s still a couple of hours until the ball, and since he won’t take nearly as long getting ready as you, he decides it’s a good idea to get in a short nap. Traveling always makes him tired, after all- especially when he’s going from your castle all the way to Hyunjin’s. He yawns and stretches out before he closes his eyes, and your eyes linger on him fondly for a moment before you turn to where Seungmin set your luggage.
You rummage through your bags for everything you need to get ready; toiletries, makeup, your dress- you collect them all in your arms and carry them to the attached bathroom. You spend a fair amount of time in the shower, going over every skincare step meticulously and making sure you’re as soft as can be- not that it matters, really, since nothing is going to happen but.. You feel more confident in yourself after going through the motions. You’re careful and methodical in the application of your makeup too; you can’t rush if you want to look perfect.
You hold your dress up to your body and imagine briefly how you’ll look in it while standing in front of the large, ornate mirror. That’s the downside to ordering online- you have no idea how the dress will actually fit you, but you hope you’ll look nice. Nerves hit you again as you look at yourself, but you swallow them down the best you can as you lie the dress on the sink counter. You don’t know what you’re hoping for tonight anymore- whether you want Hyunjin to see you with Seungmin and get jealous, or if you want him to think you are a sweet couple and support you sincerely.
It doesn’t matter either way; nothing about this is genuine. And you’re not sure if you can be happy with yourself if Hyunjin is jealous and realizes he likes you over a lie. But you’ve come this far, you’re already here and Seungmin has reassured you over and over again that this is something he thinks you should see through, so.. That’s all you have left to do. Just see it through until the end.
Getting your underwear on, and then carefully slipping on your dress- here is where you need Seungmin’s help. It’s near impossible for you to pull up the zipper that lies along the spine of your dress, even if you stretch and reach behind you as far as your arm can go. Holding a hand to your chest so that the dress doesn’t slip back down your body, you carefully open the bathroom door and peek outside into the main room.
You weren’t sure if Seungmin really fell asleep after you’d left him alone in the room, but peeking out now, you can tell that he has. He’s in the same position on the bed as when you left him, his eyes serenely closed and breathing steady. You call his name, but he doesn’t react; so you try once more, raising your voice this time, but you’re still met with nothing in response. You step out of the bathroom and up to the bed cautiously, and you make one last effort to wake him by calling his name just in case.
It doesn’t work, of course; you didn’t really think it would anyways if you’re being honest, but it didn’t hurt to try. You cautiously reach out to his shoulder, and do your best to rouse him awake while still holding your dress up with your other hand. Seungmin slowly blinks awake, mumbling something you can’t decipher as his senses slowly return to reality one by one.
He blinks a few times more, processing the sight before him; you leaning towards him, your dress loosely covering your body with the support of the hand not placed on his shoulder. He refuses to let his eyes linger on the image of your barely concealed cleavage before him, instead putting all of his effort into looking back up to your face. "Need my help now?" he correctly assumes, and you nod as you straighten back up.
Seungmin sits up from the bed, watches you as you turn to return to the bathroom, expecting him to follow. He does his best to ignore what the sight of your exposed skin does to him; the only reason he has this view is because you trust him and view him as a best friend- he really can't afford to be having any impure thoughts about you. (A little late for that in all honesty, but he'll atone for it later.)
The door is wide open, but he knocks on the doorframe to announce himself before he steps through- a sign of respect and decency. "Thanks," you smile at him briefly as he steps inside the bathroom and takes his place behind you. "I can't zip it up on my own," you explain, and yeah, he can see that clearly; the bottom of the zipper lies on your tailbone, your panties ever so slightly peeking in the v-shape the zipper creates with the two sides of your dress.
He swallows and pretends he doesn't notice, instead looking to where the zipper ends just around your shoulder blades. “Do you think Hyunjin will think I look good?” you can’t help but ask as Seungmin’s hand falls to your zipper, slowly pulling it up. It gives you goosebumps- not the cold zipper on your skin, but the way his hand feels just over your spine, running along it as he zips up your dress.
You're not sure what reply you hope to hear; maybe it's a question with no right answer. “If he’s smart, he will,” Seungmin answers; he’d have to be an idiot not to. “You’re beautiful." You flush as you look at him in the mirror, standing behind you but not at all obscured thanks to your smaller frame.
You know he means it- he teases and he pretends, but he’d never lie about something like that. You already know that to be true; he’s said it himself- that the thing’s he says with a serious tone are the things he really means. He’s not looking at you, his eyes fixed on your back until he’s finished with the zipper, ignoring the way the hooks of your bra stare back at him until your dress closes and they are obscured from his sight, the way they should be.
He finally meets your gaze again when he’s done, meeting your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. Your face feels impossibly hot, and you hope he thinks the pink on your face is from the makeup you applied as opposed to the real blush it is. You still have things to do- put on your accessories, fix-up and style your hair, put on your prettiest pair of heels, but even without all that flashy glamor added on, Seungmin already thinks you’re radiant as can be.
Though he’s done with the zipper, his hand hasn’t left your back yet, and neither of you have broken the gaze you keep in the mirror. There’s a moment where you think he’ll turn you around and kiss you, or that you’ll kiss him; and truly, he wants to, but he shouldn’t. This night is supposed to be about you and Hyunjin, and you don’t need the ‘practice’ anymore- it was only ever an excuse to begin with.
He clears his throat as he lets you go, and you turn your gaze away from the mirror, swallowing down all your feelings and nerves as you rummage through your bag for the accessories you brought with you. “It won’t take me much longer to get ready,” you say as you continue to rummage through your bag- you found what you need, but taking it out means having to meet Seungmin’s gaze, and you’re not ready to do that again just yet.
“Right, I should get ready too,” Seungmin mumbles mostly to himself as he turns to leave. You don’t look up from your bag, even as he lingers in the doorway. You can tell he stopped to look at you, you can feel his eyes observing you, but still you don’t glance up at him. “Yeah, not much time left ‘til we gotta go,” you say, and he responds with a simple, quiet ‘yeah’ before he fully walks out into the main room.
There’s a sense of dread that lingers- both of you having a similar feeling weighing on your hearts, while ironically thinking you feel it all by yourself, that the other person doesn’t possibly feel the same way. A situation that would easily be mended by communication, but the gap between what you perceive to be true, and the real truth is not so easily crossed. The metaphoric rope that connects you and Seungmin together is frayed, and you worry that an uncomfortable conversation will cause that connection to completely snap.
So you swallow your feelings once more, you put on your earrings and style your hair, and you realign your focus. You can’t keep thinking about what your affection for Seungmin means or why the thought of this ending tonight weighs on you so heavily. You’re close to getting what you’ve been working for, and that should be where your thoughts linger- on Hyunjin. The best friend you’ve always thought you had feelings for, the one you believed yourself to be in love with.
Stepping inside the ballroom with Seungmin is utterly nerve wracking; it’s the moment you’ve been waiting for, the moment that 3 months of fake relationship practice were leading up to. This is where you show your best performance, where you parade around on Seungmin’s arm and look at him with the best heart eyes you can muster. Not that it’s a hard task, these days- you find yourself doing it without even thinking about it.
You.. like him, if you had to guess. But do you like him more than you thought you liked Hyunjin? You guess that’s the answer you’re really trying to find tonight. You never thought it’s where you’d be today when you first conjured up this plan, there was no way to anticipate how much your newfound closeness with Seungmin would affect the feelings you thought you were so sure of.
It’s natural to be confused, isn’t it? Surely anyone would be in this scenario; you can’t kiss and hug and cuddle someone for so long and feel nothing, right? And it’s your own fault, you can’t blame anyone but yourself for the predicament you’ve found yourself in. You reap what you sow, as your grandmother likes to say. “Don’t be so on edge, everything’ll work out,” Seungmin leans to whisper in your ear.
You’ve been so tense ever since you left the guest room together- half nervous to see Hyunjin again after months and half ‘oh my god why does Seungmin look so good tonight.’ As if it wasn’t enough that you were confused about your feelings, Seungmin had to come out looking so devastatingly handsome in his perfectly tailored suit and neatly slicked hair. “Yeah, you’re right, sorry,” you respond and he shakes his head, offers a reassuring smile before he looks around the room.
“He’s around here somewhere, we’ll see him soon enough,” Seungmin says as his eyes continue to scan the packed ballroom. Oh, that makes sense- he thinks you’re tense because you haven’t run into Hyunjin yet. If things were the same as a few months ago, you think that may have been true. Now.. you’re not really sure what’s true. Hyunjin will see you as a couple and he’ll either silently rage with envy or beam with joy for his two best friends- and you don’t know which outcome is the one you want anymore.
“Oh, I think I see him,” Seungmin mutters to you, and discreetly points in the direction he thinks he’s found your other best friend. You see him now too, standing near the balconies looking bored out of his mind, champagne glass in hand. He’s not looking at anything in particular, just vaguely observing his surroundings while occasionally sipping from his drink- probably hoping you two will show up soon and save him from his boredom.
You take a breath, wrap your arms around Seungmin's own arm and squeeze it close to your chest. “Now or never,” you mutter and he nods, steeling himself for the penultimate moment just as do. “Hyunjin!” you call from across the hall, dragging Seungmin along with you as you half-sprint up to him, your designer heels loudly clanking on the marble floor. Hyunjin returns your smile when he spots you, and laughs when he sees Seungmin practicly scowling as he’s dragged along- it’s classic, really; you always do things like this to them. Just strong arm them along everywhere you want to go, through everything you want to do.
“Hey! I’m glad you both made it, it’s been forever,” Hyunjin smiles as you complete your approach. He feels bad he hasn’t seen either of his best friends in months, but royal duties and all.. It kept him very unfortunately occupied. He looks at you both inquisitively when you don’t let go of Seungmin’s arm or untangle yourself from him- normally you would have by now, having reached the destination you wanted to drag him to. It’s.. curious, to say the least.
Your hand goes from being wrapped around Seungmin and holding his arm, to intertwining your fingers as you hold his hand. Hyunjin raises a brow, but says nothing- he’ll wait for one of you to clear up what he’s thinking. “Mhm, we’ve been waiting to see you in person to tell you something important!” you say as you squeeze Seungmin’s hand, shooting him your best lovey dovey look before you bring your gaze back to Hyunjin.
Seungmin wants to sigh and roll his eyes and call you dumb for looking at him like that, but he bites his tongue. It’s the last time you’ll ever shoot him with that look of pure puppy love, and it’s best not to ruin it by defaulting to his usual personality; cherish it while you have it, as they say. “Well spit it out then, don’t keep me on the edge of my seat,” Hyunjin’s smile grows, looking between the two of you with eager anticipation to hear the confession that lingers on your tongue.
Hyunjin’s positive reaction deters you a little; surely he can see that you’re clinging to Seungmin to an unusual degree, but he doesn’t seem to react to it negatively at all- not even minutely. There’s no subtle furrow of the brow, no flash of sadness in his eyes that gets replaced by forced happiness, no twitch in his hands from jealousy or frustration. Seungmin was right, as always- Hyunjin is just going to be a good friend. He won’t have a single negative thing to say.
“W-Well, we.. uh-” you stumble on your words, and curse yourself for floundering at the most pivotal moment. This is what everything you’ve done has been leading up to, you can’t falter now.. and yet, you are. You look at Seungmin and your grip on his hand tightens, panic unwittingly settling in as a lump forms in your throat. He flashes you a look of sympathy, squeezes your hand in a subtle show of comfort, before he turns away from your gaze to look at Hyunjin.
He doesn’t like it, but he’ll take the lead from here- for your sake. “We’re dating,” he says as confidently and smoothly as he can bring himself to. He lets go of your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, pulls you closer for added effect, sincerely tries his best to spark the jealousy he knew you wanted to see. But Hyunjin doesn’t look jealous, or sad, or even angry. He just looks.. happy.
“Gosh, finally! Congrats! I always knew you two would end up together,” Hyunjin grins and gives Seungmin a friendly pat on the shoulder. You blink as you stare between them. Huh..? Finally? What does that mean? Even Seungmin is taken aback, and mirrors what you were internally thinking. Unlike you, his utterly shocked ‘huh?’ comes out verbally. “Yeah, I always saw the way you were looking at her, Minnie. You were so obvious, I knew it was only a matter of time,” Hyunjin says with enthusiastic joy that sends you completely off kilter.
What the fuck. You feel like your entire world has been flipped upside down. What does he mean he always saw the way Seungmin looked at you? How did he look at you..? How does he look at you? Hyunjin’s puzzled now as he looks between you both; you look like your entire sense of reality has been shifted, while Seungmin looks positively mortified. “Sorry, uh- did he not mention that when he confessed?” Hyunjin asks, and then shit- maybe you were the one who confessed.
Seungmin is stubborn and aloof in his cool persona, he's the type to avoid saying what he really thinks by using teasing words, will only look at you softly when he thinks no one else is looking his way.. Hyunjin can easily imagine that he has yet to admit the true depth of his secret pining, or confessed how much he actually likes you. He feels bad for outing Seungmin if that’s the case.
“My bad, I assumed you knew since you’re dating now and all,” he laughs a bit awkwardly while shooting Seungmin a sympathetic look. One that’s meant to say ‘sorry for blowing your stubborn, cool-guy persona.’ It’s just.. Hyunjin thought it was as obvious to you as it was to him. The way his hard expression would soften the minute you smiled at him, how he’d laugh when you’d banter back after he said something teasing and mean, how his eyes would always linger on even if there were countless other people in the room.. Wasn’t it obvious he liked you this entire time?
“I guess I’m just surprised to hear you call it out,” you try to recover from the blatant shock, play it off as something different than it is- as if you knew all along, and you’re just surprised that Hyunjin knew too. Hyunjin chuckles a little, looking a bit more relieved after your statement. “Sorry if I ruined the illusion of Seungmin being the cool, aloof type. He’s actually a big softie, but I guess you’ve realized that by now,” he smiles.
“Yeah I, uh- I’ve realized that,” you smile back, a bit tensely, but a smile nonetheless, “That’s what I like about him.” Seungmin, still trying to recover from his own world being flipped upside down, finally looks at you again. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to recover from this wildly unexpected turn in the conversation. Still realizing he has his hand on your waist, and unsure where you now stand and whether or not this is appropriate or okay anymore, he hesitantly lets you go.
You hold his hand when he does, but it doesn’t feel like solace or consolation the way it normally would. Not hollow, or empty, but just.. not full of the same warmth it normally carries. He’s so impossibly anxious and scared- that you’re furious with him, that you’ll cut him off when the night is over, that you’ll accuse him of sabotaging this whole thing by agreeing to be your pretend boyfriend when he had very real feelings for you.
In reality you just feel terrible about yourself and what you’ve caused. You already felt bad before the night began, and now you feel even worse- you never would’ve asked Seungmin to do this if you'd known he had feelings for you. And now his feelings were called out in the worst way possible, and you don’t think you’ll ever scrub how mortified Seungmin looked in that moment from your memory. And it was entirely your fault.
He should’ve been allowed the chance to tell you on his own terms, and you ruined that chance. You probably also ruined any chance at having a normal relationship with him if you wanted one- because how do you recover from the humiliation of being called out on something you thought was a well guarded secret, right in front of the very person that secret was about. This entire time, he’s liked you, maybe even loved you, and you undeniably hurt him.
He tried to deter you, he told you this wouldn’t work and he tried to resist but you pressed and pushed and prodded until he gave in. And while you could argue some of his acts were not entirely selfless, as you’re sure he must’ve enjoyed kissing you and being close to you knowing what you do now, how could you blame him for indulging in a love with someone he wanted to be with while expecting, believing, knowing, it would come to an end when you got what you wanted.
All those years you spent pining over Hyunjin, Seungmin spent them pining over you, and he just listened, he took it in, and he never stopped supporting you, not even once. Even tonight, when it was probably breaking his heart to do so, he tried his best to reassure you, he tried to make Hyunjin jealous on your behalf.. And he complained, sure he did, but it was more part of the usual banter between you two than jealousy or hurt. At least, that’s what you always thought it was.. You never imagined there’d be anything more hiding beneath the surface.
You should’ve known, though. It should’ve been obvious- how can you call yourself Seungmin’s best friend and not have realized? And it’s not that you missed the signs because you were willfully ignorant, but you were so tunnel-visioned, selfish, and absorbed that you never stopped to notice any of the changes. It wasn’t even until recently that you realized how much a wall he’d put up, how much he’d forced distance between you..
It makes sense, in hindsight; that it wasn’t for your sake that he stopped doing certain things and acting certain ways, but his own. While you were watching Hyunjin like a hawk for any sign that he might like you, you missed all the signs Seungmin left. You never noticed a single thing, and being reminded of how selfishly you’d spent the teenage years of your friendship makes your heart ache terribly.
“Hey uh, sorry to cut this short but.. I think Seungmin’s feeling embarrassed. Might be in need of a reset, y’know?” you say, trying to come across as a happy girlfriend stealing the chance to tease her boyfriend while also still having his best interest at heart. You look at Seungmin, try to offer him reassurance despite the situation, but he doesn’t look back at you. He’s facing Hyunjin, but he doesn’t look at him either, not really. It feels like he’s far away, somewhere distant that you can’t reach, busy reconstructing all the walls he’d let fall away, trying to build them back up as high as he can in preparation for the heartbreak he’s soon to face.
“Of course,” Hyunjin smiles, giving his full blessing, “just come find me again later! I’d rather be a third wheel with you two lovebirds than listen to my father drone on about tax management again.” You giggle a bit and nod, waving him goodbye and forcing Seungmin out of his haze by dragging him away with you. You glance around as you push through the crowd for a private space to talk- your guest room is much too far away and the tension while going back would likely be too much for either of you to bear; better to find somewhere nearby to have this conversation.
You fail to make it to a room after exiting the ballroom; Seungmin stops in the middle of the hallway, preventing you from dragging him along, and you’re forced to let him go and turn around to look at him. He’s pained and lost but he tries to bring himself back to the aloof persona he once had mastered, to not show how hurt and afraid he is right now. But the cracked mask that is his cool facade has splintered irreparably, and you can only see him for who he really is now.
“Sorry it didn’t work out how you wanted. Sucks, and I know you must be hurt, but don’t give up, you can still try again, maybe there’s something else you haven’t thought of yet, you can-” Seungmin speaks in a quick ramble, not even acknowledging the massive elephant in the room- his feelings for you. “Seungmin,” you cut him off with a frown, and he’s hesitant to meet your gaze; he doesn’t know what he’ll be met with, and try as he might to reconstruct himself back to the person he was before this whole thing started, he knows deep down it’d be in vain.
Your friendship has been irrevocably changed, and to pretend otherwise would be futile. Still, he can’t stop himself from trying- it’s all he can think to do. “You have feelings for me,” you state it plainly, and Seungmin swallows but says nothing. Doesn’t confirm, nor deny, because both options seem fucking terrible if he’s honest. Denying it is pointless and would just be a blatant lie, and confirming, making it clear that he agreed to be your fake boyfriend despite his feelings for you.. He doesn’t know how that makes him look.
In Seungmin’s head, you’ll either view him as pathetic or as a saboteur, and neither is ideal. “Why didn’t you ever tell me? If I’d known I’d never have..” He scoffs at your sentiment and looks at you incredulously. “And why would I have? You’ve been obsessed with Hyunjin for years. And I’m supposed to tell you how I feel? Be serious, Y/N, there’s no way I could’ve ever told you. And even if I had, you would’ve rejected me, so what would’ve been the point?”
“I-” you want to say that’s not true, that you wouldn’t have rejected him or broken his heart, but who are you kidding? It absolutely fucking is. It hurts to hear it this way, but he isn’t wrong about any of it. Still, just because he’s right, that doesn’t mean you’re entirely wrong either. Even if you’d have rejected him, surely he still should’ve been honest with you? You’d never have done this if you’d known.
You made mistakes, but so did he.. right? You know you've been selfish for way too long, but you're not the kind of person to intentionally hurt a friend. You never would've dragged Seungmin through the mud just to get what you want, and the fact that he hid his feelings and allowed himself to be hurt just to make you happy.. That's not the kind of thing you want him to do.
Your friendship shouldn't be built on Seungmin's self-sacrifice, he shouldn't allow himself to be second place just to make you and Hyunjin happy. To be selfless is a virtue, but too much can leave him with nothing, and that's been your concern since the day you realized how selfish you've been. You realized that Seungmin will give, and give, and give, and he'll never ask you for anything in return. But that’s not what friendship and love should be built upon. Surely he understands that you never wanted this- for your best friend to offer himself up as your emotional martyr.
And with the confusion of your feelings compounding on it, the realization that maybe it’s Seungmin who you love while your infatuation with Hyunjin was hardly more than a fairytale childhood crush- how are you supposed to live with yourself after causing unspeakable heartache to him? And would he even believe you if you told him that you love him? You don’t even know if you can believe yourself.
He sees how hurt you are, the confusion and the guilt and the sorrow, and the anger that grew within him instantly deflates. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped you, I just- I need to be alone,” Seungmin mutters his apology and walks briskly past you, towards the direction of the guest hall.
You call to him, but he doesn’t stop or turn around, and you don’t follow. You want to, but you know you should respect that he needs time to himself; he has a lot to process, as you’re sure you do too. You owe it to him, yourself, and even Hyunjin, to sort out your feelings too.
Seungmin didn't see you or Hyunjin again that night, couldn't bring himself to keep playing the pretend boyfriend after every thing that happened. He went to your guest room for his stuff, isolated himself in his own room for the remainder of the evening, leaving the door to your room unlocked and the key resting on the desk so you could get in and out without having to speak with him.
He felt bad about it, but he just couldn't face you again; it was too difficult. Apparently, you returned to the ballroom alone and told Hyunjin the truth. Seungmin knows because he woke up in the middle of the night to countless texts from Hyunjin- apologizing, saying he didn't know, offering his condolences and to be there for him. It fucking sucked, made him feel like even more of a pathetic loser.
You told Hyunjin the truth because it felt like the right thing to do following what happened; he would've known eventually anyways, so it felt better to rip the band-aid off right away. And you confessed a lot more than just that; you told Hyunjin everything. About how this whole thing started, about your confusion on how you felt now, about how terribly your heart ached after realizing how much damage you'd caused.
Hyunjin offered you his shoulder to cry on, hugged you and apologized even though he didn’t need to, and ironically, that’s partly what gave you the answer you were looking for. Because your heart didn’t pound when he hugged you, you didn’t get butterflies when he wiped your tears, your face didn’t flush when offered his hand for support. It was so platonic- and the only time you smiled was when he said he was sure Seungmin would forgive you and everything will work out.
It’s over a day when Seungmin finally sees you again; you have to pass through his city to get to yours, and so it always made sense to leave Hyunjin’s castle together when traveling home. The ride is tense and awkward, to say the least. You can’t bring yourself to say a word and neither can he, the two of you only taking peeks at each other when you’re sure the other isn’t looking. Seungmin stares out the window and you stare at your hands resting in your lap, while your driver compensates for the unusual atmosphere by turning up the radio.
Approaching Seungmin’s estate makes you indescribably emotional. A lump forms in your throat when the door is opened for him and he exits the car, you clench your fists and try to swallow down the intense emotion when the door closes and you watch him begin to walk away. It doesn’t feel right, none of this feels right. You’re worried that if you don’t talk now, then you never will; that the damage will be irreparable if you let the distance grow and feelings fester. You need to talk to Seungmin, and you need to do it now.
You hastily unbuckle your seatbelt and open the car door, running out to chase after Seungmin and not stopping even as your driver calls to you from behind. Seungmin, who is almost to his front door, turns around when he hears the commotion, and is surprised to see you quickly approaching him. “What are you doing..?” he can’t help but ask; really though, he shouldn’t be surprised. You always do things like this, and once you’ve made a decision to do something, you’ll stubbornly stick to that decision ‘til the end. You’ve decided you’re going to talk to him, and he knows there’ll be no getting out of it.
“We need to talk,” you assert yourself clearly, even go as far as to step past him and into his house before he can. What a brat; he almost smiles from how familiar it is. The guards who were holding the door open for Seungmin look a little puzzled, but they make no comment- it’s not their place to do so. Seungmin doesn’t see you when he steps inside, but it’s easy enough to guess where you went.
And he finds you exactly where he expected to, waiting for him right outside his bedroom door. Now or never, he thinks as he unlocks it, offering for you to step inside first. You do just that, waiting until follows behind and closes the door to speak. “What are we now? Friends? More than friends? ..Neither?” you cut straight to the chase, leaving no room for awkward and unnecessary pre-emptive small talk. “I don’t know. Isn’t that up to you?” Seungmin says, stepping past you to sit on his bed.
You frown as you watch him, but stay firm. “It shouldn’t be entirely up to me. What do you want?” “Does it matter what I want?” Seungmin cuts back. It’s a bit harsh, but he’s still trying to defend against his heart getting torn to shreds; you can’t entirely blame him. “Of course it matters,” you tell him, voice soft with pain. “Sorry,” he mumbles again, sighing as he flops back and stares at the ceiling. He knows he needs to stop snapping at you, his pain isn’t all in your hands. It takes two to tango, and he did more than his fair share of leading the dance.
Honesty scares him. Raw emotion scares him. Telling you how he’s always felt about you scares him, and telling you what he hopes you’ll be scares him. But that fear has always been a hindrance, and he needs to stop being shackled by it; especially when you’re trying so hard to hear what he really has to say. “I’ve always liked you, for years I’ve liked you. But you.. I didn’t think there was anything I could do. So I just.. didn't do anything.”
You sit down next to him, looking down at him as you do, and he in turn moves his gaze towards you. You can see the apprehension in his eyes, and maybe it’s presumptuous of you to do so, but you lay your hand over his in an effort to reassure him. He looks a bit surprised, but he accepts it, and rotates his hand around so you can hold it properly. “I try not to, but even now I still want to be with you,” he admits, and it’s not easy for him to do, but he can’t shove down how he feels anymore- not if he wants a chance with you.
“So I didn’t ruin what we have?” you ask and Seungmin quickly sits up, squeezing your hand as he does. “Of course not, I mean- I was.. upset and I took it out on you, but.. You could never ruin anything,” he says, emphasizing the point by moving closer to you; and it makes you feel warm and happy. Because he’s bridging the gap on his own, willingly putting his walls back down, leaving the mask off.
“I'm so sorry for everything, I really am. And it's okay if you don't want to, but can we go back to what we were before? Well- not before before, but like- when you were my fake boyfriend. But not fake this time either, I want you to be my real boyfriend, and-” You’re rambling, you know, but you’re just trying to be clear, you just don’t want to mess this up again, so-
“Shut up already, idiot,” Seungmin says, an affectionate smile and lilt in his voice before he’s pressing his lips to yours to stop your rambling himself. “Don’t be an asshole when I’m pouring my heart out,” you complain, smiling despite yourself. “I thought you wanted to go back to before though?” he says with a grin, and you roll your eyes and shove him, mumbling ‘I hate you’ while he chuckles. And it feels good. It feels like everything you’ve been missing and everything you needed. No tension, no dread, no fear- the way it should have always been.
You kiss him first this time, and he pulls you in closer, lets you crawl your way into his lap the way you’ve wanted to for weeks at this point (not that he’s even aware how much you’ve fantasized about it- at least, you hope he hasn’t.) “I missed you,” you breathe as you settle on his lap, and he pulls away, looks up at you with the smug smile that tells you a smartass comment is going to follow. “We were only apart for like, a day,” he can’t help himself from saying, laughing softly when you pout and whine.
“I know that! But it was the most miserable day of my life, I’ll have you know,” you huff, pout growing as you turn your face away and cross your arms. Seungmin’s expression softens, and he reaches out to your face, rests his hand on your cheek and urges you to look at him again. He understands, he really does; it was just as miserable for him. So many doubts and fears wreaking havoc on his brain and making him assume the worst had still yet to come. “I missed you too,” he mumbles softly, earnestly and a bit shy.
Seungmin isn’t used to vulnerability and honesty, but he’ll get used to it for you. He’ll learn to tell you over and over again how much he loves you if that’s what you need. And the dynamic you have is fun; you like the banter, the teasing, and how much affection lies beneath the surface of his spoken words. You don’t expect him to completely change, nor do you want him to; but he can stand to be a little more open with his feelings. Just a little.
"Got you to admit it," you smile, and he scoffs when he realizes he's been duped. He calls you a brat, lovingly and affectionately, before he’s kissing you again. You push him backwards onto the bed, gentle but still assertive, continuing to kiss him while his hands find purchase on your hips. He lets out that little sigh as you kiss him- the one that always drives you crazy and makes your stomach do flips.
You used to feel guilt over what that noise caused you to think, the way it caused your body to react and where it led your mind to wander. You wonder if it’s okay now; to allow your mind to go there, if Seungmin would be okay with going further than you’ve gone before- kissing new spots, touching new places, experiencing new sensations. You wonder if he’s thought about it as much as you have, and if guilt made him swallow it down when he did, same as you.
In the few months of your fake relationship, despite all that practiced closeness and kissing, you never made out- you’ve gotten close, hands starting to roam slightly too close to an intimate place, tongues just seconds away from passing parted lips, but one of you would always stop when you realized you were about to get carried away. And he’d gotten hard more than once, but you always pretended not to notice, acting like you didn’t feel it pressing into your thigh while your legs were tangled together.
Acknowledging it would’ve meant confronting feelings you weren’t ready to at the time, and there was always the possibility it meant nothing, that it was just a physical reaction independent of his brain and how he felt about you. But now that you know all that you do, you hope it means he’s always wanted more with you.. And you have to admit, the self restraint it’d take not to act on his desires makes him all the more appealing. What can you say except consent is key, and knowing he has self control even when he wants you bad is sexy.
He does it again- that unconscious squeeze of your hips the more you kiss him, and you wonder what exactly it stems from; a desire to have you as close as possible, a way to ground himself as he gets worked up, or maybe even both. You hope it's both. You pull away from his kiss, sitting up and staring down at him, your hands lingering on his chest. “I want to ask you something,” you speak softly, voice almost a whisper, face growing impossibly hot. “And don’t give me a smartass reply, or I’m leaving!” You follow up sternly, and Seungmin chuckles, grabs one of the hands you have resting on his chest, and intertwines your fingers.
“I won’t, promise,” he says, not a hint of teasing in his voice or his smile. As fun as it is to tease you and poke fun, he can tell when the moment calls for him to be earnest and take you seriously. You breathe a sigh of relief, or maybe you’re letting out a breath to ground yourself before you speak; either way, Seungmin watches you attentively, a bit puzzled but entirely patient. “Do you.. Did you ever think about, uh- doing more when we were kissing..?” you ask, nervously chewing on your lip as you wait for him to respond.
“Oh,” Seungmin blinks, his own face growing hot alongside yours. He promised he’d give an honest, serious answer, but even if he didn’t, he doubts he would’ve been able to play it off. Looking into your eyes while he tries to admit it makes the words lodge in his throat, so he turns his head and looks away, the hot red of his blush burning all the way to the tips of his ears. Same as when he admitted he wanted to kiss you, all he says is “yes.” No elaboration, no ifs, whens, or buts; just yes. And that’s all he needs to say, really. It speaks for itself.
He hesitates to look back at you and see your reaction, but the moment he does turn his head, you’re kissing him again, more eager and impassioned than you ever have before, the noise of surprise he lets out muffled by your lips. Your tongue peeks out, just barely brushes over his own, almost cautiousm and an involuntary noise of approval escapes you when you feel his tongue slip past his lips to meet yours.
You separate your hand from Seungmin’s, and he brings his hand back to your hip while yours returns to his chest. You open your mouth for him, invite his tongue further in, and he squeezes your hips once more when you do. The feeling of his tongue sliding against yours is dizzying, makes your stomach fill to the brim with butterflies, excitement building in your gut in ways you’ve never experienced.
You feel him growing hard beneath you, and you don’t ignore it the way you would have before; you purposely press into it, grind yourself down on Seungmin’s lap and swallow the gasp he lets out. You lose track of how long you stay like this, grinding on his lap while your tongues swirl around each other's, your heavy breaths and every noise swallowed by the other. You’re out of breath by the time you finally pull away, your chests rapidly rising and falling, his shirt twisted in your palms.
Seungmin looks almost dazed, and to be fair, you sort of are too; neither of you ever expected you’d be here like this. To Seungmin, you were unobtainable; someone he loved but could never have, and he tried so many times to make his peace with it, though he never could. There's a part of him that still can’t even believe you’re choosing him, that thinks maybe this is a dream he’ll soon wake up from. And in your case, it took you too long to realize your priorities were wrong, and your feelings didn’t always mean what you thought they did; that love is more than what looks good and correct on paper.
You realized you don’t need perfection and matching titles and fairytale romance. Love doesn’t follow a formula, it doesn’t adhere to standards of nobility and preconceived notions on who a princess should love. You have two best friends, and they’re both vitally important to you, but the one you truly fell in love with turned out to be so opposite from what you thought your type truly was. You love Seungmin, with his quips, sarcasm, imperfections, and all. It’s unfortunate you didn’t realize it sooner, but you’re happy you’re sure of it now. And now that you have him, you’re never letting him go.
“I want you,” you tell him, and though you’re the most shy you’ve ever been, and can’t quite look him in the eye as you admit it, you still get it out, clear and direct. It’s impressive, enviable, how shyness doesn’t prevent you from ever speaking your mind. “Do you.. want me too?” you ask, and he can feel your hands trembling as you continue to hold onto his shirt, waiting for his answer with bated breath. “Yes,” he assures; always has, and always will.
You smile before you lean down to capture his lips in another kiss, wet, hot and messy. “This okay?” you pull away just slightly to ask, still so close that he can feel your every breath on his lips, your hand traveling down his chest and over his stomach. More than okay, he wants to say, but all that he can manage to let out is another “yes.” Your fingers ghost over the hem of his pants, his breath hitching when you palm him over the fabric.
It’s embarrassing how much pre-cum has stained and moistened the fabric of his pants, and he’s sure you can feel it beneath your hand. He closes his eyes, furrows his brows as he tries not to become flustered and increasingly more red. A breathy groan escapes him when you slide your hand inside, your hand encircling his cock, and he opens his eyes to look at you, twitching involuntarily when he sees the hungry look in your eyes.
You kiss him when he starts to bite at his lip, greedily swallow every groan that tumbles out of him. Seungmin can’t believe how much better your hand feels than his own, how soft and warm and perfect- and when you pull away from his lips to stare down at him, he looks up at you like you hold the entire world in your hands. You’ve never done this before, but instinct carries you far, and if Seungmin’s reactions are any sign, you’re doing a good enough job so far.
Carefully removing your hand from inside his pants and sitting up completely, you move your hands to the end of your dress, where it pools on your upper thighs, and take it in your hands, pulling it up and over your head, tossing it onto the floor behind you. Seungmin’s eyes grow wide, swallowing thickly as he stares at you. He wasn’t expecting it, but it makes sense that you’d do this; you’ve always been the type to act first and foremost.
You smile at him, shy and sweet, but still impossibly confident too. You take his hands and bring them to your chest, let him grope you over your bra, and it sends him reeling. You’re assertive, direct, a go-getter; when you know you want something, you just go for it, simple as that. But still, this is.. you’re gonna drive him crazy before the night is over. You reach behind your back, unhook your bra with familiar ease, the straps sliding down your arm.
Seungmin swallows, knowing the moment he lets you go your bra will fall from your body and expose your chest to him. Deciding to take a page out of your book, and display some confidence despite the fact that his face is impossibly hot, he takes his hands away, lifts his back off the bed and pulls his own shirt off before he can get distracted by the image of you bare before him.
You toss your fallen bra aside, and he allows himself to stare for just a moment before he brings a hand to the nape of your neck and brings you down to kiss him. You squeak in surprise, but then he feels you smiling against his lips as you return his kiss. Mirroring what you did before, his hand travels between your thighs, feeling your heat over your panties. It’s a bit of an awkward reach that causes strain on his arm, but the minute he feels the wet patch, he doesn’t even fucking think about the strain anymore.
Seungmin brings his fingers to the hem of your panties, glancing at you before he moves any further. You nod at him, giving him permission to slip his hand inside. And fuck, you’re soaked- he barely even has to move his fingers around to get them completely coated. “You’re- ‘s so wet,” he breathes out, almost amazed, and you whine, burying your face in his shoulder as some semblance of shyness finally clutches you.
“Your fault,” you mumble, and Seungmin chuckles, kissing the top of your head affectionately. “You’re cute when you’re being shy,” he tells you, and you quickly lift your head to glare at him. “Don’t get cocky, I will actually kill you,” you threaten. “And spend the rest of your life without me when just one day makes you miserable?” he teases, and you whine, grabbing one of his pillows and hitting him with it.
“Remind me to never tell you when I miss you ever again,” you huff, and Seungmin coos, the menace that he is, before he pulls you into a sweet, passionate kiss. You easily melt into it, further complaints dying when his tongue touches yours. He takes your breasts in his hands again, thumbs rubbing over your nipples and making your entire body shudder. You gasp when he takes them between his fingers, squirming and whimpering when he rolls and softly pinches them.
His cock unceremoniously twitches in response to your pleasured noises, each one driving him crazier than the last; he needs you bad. “Want you,” he mumbles against your lips, and you hum, pulling away to look at him. “Wanna fuck me?” you ask, head tilted as a coy smile plays on your lips. Fucking hell- you call him a menace, but you’re the real threat here; you make him insane. “Isn’t that obvious?” he asks, ignoring the heat on his face and trying to act as unphased by your words as possible.
“Yeah, it is actually,” you smile and he scoffs, rolling his eyes as you giggle. Menace. You lift your hips off his lap, moving off to the side of the bed so you can slide your panties down your legs. He watches you intently, swallowing when you turn back to him and gaze at him expectantly. Right, he has to get undressed too. Lifting off the bed, he tries not to think about the fact that you’re staring at him as he pulls his pants and underwear down his thighs in one motion.
You crawl back in his lap when he’s finished kicking the bunched fabric off his legs, neither of you paying any mind to where on his floor it lands. Seungmin’s brain feels like it’s going to short circuit while he’s staring at you; you’re beautiful, sexy, straddling his lap entirely naked, a moment he thought would only ever exist in his wet dreams. You take a breath, steady your nerves as you reach between your bodies to take his cock in your hand.
It twitches in your hand, throbs as you align it with your dripping hole. You swallow, glancing back up at Seungmin’s face before you act. He can’t take your other hand in his as you’re using it to support your weight, so instead he reaches for your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. You lean into his touch, smiling softly and indulging in his affection for just a moment before you start to slowly sink down on him.
You squeeze your eyes shut, bottom lip caught between your teeth, nails digging into the flesh of his shoulder as you continue. Even just the sensation of the tip pushing inside is overwhelming, and the more of him you take, the more the pleasure in your gut builds. It’s unfamiliar, there’s a sting and a dull ache, but mostly it just feels good- better than anything you’ve ever felt.
You open your eyes and look at Seungmin when your hips are finally flush with his, butterflies exploding when you see him struggling to keep himself together. His breaths are harsh and heavy, sweat dripping down his forehead, jaw clenched as he tries to prevent himself from cumming too fast. “You- you okay?” he asks, voice tense with effort, and you nod, leaning down to capture his lips in a hungry kiss.
He throbs when you do, his hands moving to your hips and holding them tightly, your naked chests pressed together. When you’re ready, you experimentally roll your hips, whimpering softly into the kiss while you cling to his body. He groans with each slow roll of your hips, and it takes all he has not to bruise you in his grip and to stop his hips from chasing yours when you start to carefully bounce.
It’s slow at first, still adjusting and finding the rhythm you're most comfortable with, what works for you and what feels good, but when you figure it out, God, please have mercy on him. The noises you make turn his brain into an absolute puddle, and when you whimper out his name he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to recover. And the way you clench around him, the wet sounds between your legs and of your thighs slapping together each time your hips rise and fall back to his lap- he can’t fucking take it.
“M-Minnie-” you gasp, your pace faltering, legs screaming from all the exertion. “C-Close, but- ‘m tired,” you whine and pout, doing your best to push through the fatigue, but you’re not sure how much longer you can. Your legs and knees ache terribly, having been bent long before his dick was even inside you, and they’re in desperate need of a break. “Wanna switch?” he asks and you quickly nod, uttering a small “please,” as you still your hips.
Seungmin helps you lie on your back, quickly taking his place between your legs and pressing himself back inside in one swift motion. You gasp, eyes rolling back when he starts to quickly fuck into you, your hands clutching and twisting the sheets beneath you. He grabs your hands and makes you hold his instead, intertwines your fingers and makes no complaint when your nails dig into the flesh under his knuckles.
He kisses you desperately, tongue messily swirling around yours, swallowing every loud whimper and moan that spills from your throat. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, your stomach knots and twists, your entire body trembles from the overwhelming pleasure. You snake your dominant hand from out of his grip and bring it to your clit, rubbing it in quick, messy circles. He pulls away from your lips to look between your bodies and watch, cursing when you squeeze him tighter.
Before you know it, you’re gasping and crying, body jolting and squirming as your orgasm washes over you, hot pleasure licking every inch of your body. Seungmin’s head falls forward, gritting his teeth as he sloppily fucks you through it, his own release not far behind. You’re breathless and panting, but you grab his face and pull him into another kiss regardless, and it sends him over the edge, his eyes rolling back as his cum shoots inside you in long, hot spurts.
Seungmin pulls out slowly, carefully, paying no mind to the mess his cum trickling out of you makes on his blankets. It doesn’t matter, he can call someone to change the sheets for him later- right now he just wants to focus on you. He lies next to you and kisses you, over and over, holding you close to his chest and squeezing you in his arms. “Clingy, aren’t we?” you playfully mutter against his lips, and he can’t even bring himself to say something witty in response.
“Yeah,” he smoothly admits, not denying one bit how infatuated he is with you, “I’m obsessed with you. That a problem?” You blink, all the red that left your face instantly returning- you weren’t expecting a response like that, nor for him to say it so earnestly. “Not since I love you,” you say after you recover, smiling shyly and giggling when he seems surprised. “Do you?” he asks, and you pout; does he still not think you do, even after all that?
“Of course I do! I love you so much, Minnie, you.. You’re the only one I want,” you speak from the heart, and Seungmin smiles, playful and smug. “I know. I just wanted to hear you say it again,” he tells you, and you shove him, whining loudly when he laughs. “You’re such an ass!” you cry, and he pulls you back to him, hugging you close and pecking your lips when you pout. “I love you too,” he says, so sweetly that it makes you melt.
You stay cuddled together like that for some time, limbs tangled together, comfortable and secure. Neither of you wants to be the one to break away first, and though you teased him for it, you love how clingy Seungmin can be when he lets his guard down. You hope he leaves it down a lot from now on; because you love him, and with how stubborn you are, you’ll never let him be pried from your fingers. He’s yours, and you're his, now, forever, always.
It took longer than you would’ve liked to realize it, but this is the love you’ve always wanted. Seungmin completes you, he’s your missing piece, the one who understands you. Similar in the ways that matters, and contrasts you perfectly in the places you differ. You bicker and you tease and sometimes you fight, but you love with your whole hearts; and you’ll never again doubt that or be confused on what it is you want, because this is it. It’s not the fairytale you dreamed of as a kid, but it’s better than that; because it’s real, Seungmin’s love is real, and there’s nothing better you could ever ask for.
#ksmutsociety#skzstarnet#skz x reader#kim seungmin x reader#skz smut#kim seungmin smut#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz fanfic#mdni + divider graphic credit: @cafekitsune#stayed up all night proofreading and editing so if i look at this again when i wake up and saw i missed something i will kms
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Yandere GF Yuki +Yandere JJK Harem
A/N: Please just read these first few sentences if this is too long for you. I intended for Yuki and reader to have some sort of dom x sub relationship. Like it runs in her blood to be at least slightly masc. I've been fantasizing about this idea for much longer than I realize. But being able to do this with a literal bad bitch at the top of the OP podium is a dream come true and a treasure. Like I don't think you guys understand, I seriously think Yuki is for the girlies. I see so much queer potential in her, it's not even a joke(hence, the photo). The Yandere Harem includes briefly mentioned Platonic Yanderes(Yuji and Nobara) and more in depth juggling of the mentions of the Romantic Yanderes(Yuki being the main, and the rest taking whatever crumbs they can take. So, Shoko, Gojo, and Nanami). I feel like this isn't going to be organized whatsoever because I usually just write whatever with no kind of order, soooo......idk.
Yuki was all you needed in a person, in your opinion. No one knew you better besides her. You knew her and she knew you. If you could, you'd stay in her arms until your muscles hurt from staying in the same position for so long, and maybe then, you'll be molded together for eternity. That's how much you love her. But of course, her infatuation with you is so much more than a slight obsession for the one you are closely connected to. Everyday when she sees you, she feels both of your spirits connecting. When you two approach each other from different sides of a room, both of your cursed energy seem to blend together like food scents combining to make one sweet aroma. Two separate things colliding so well together.
She can't even fathom the idea of you not being hers. She can't think of a moment where you'd ever leave her either. Her confidence in your devotion and love towards her continues to sooth her mind and body. And she wishes it was just the two of you on this planet, but of course, people try to break you two apart every day. She tries not to mind it, knowing how to handle these types of situations and knowing you know how to hold your own as well. But it seems like everyone loves to test her patience.
Speaking of patience, everyone can tell Gojo was quickly running out of patience that somehow still remained in his body. You two have been together for four years, why haven't you broken up yet?! Not a single one of his relationships lasted this long. Ever. But you two continue to stare at each other as if the other created the sky and water. It's supposed to be you and him doing that. Not you and her. It's not fair and he was getting mad again just staring at the two of you. He tried everything. He tried to give his best flirts with you, tried to get you alone, which worked a few times, but you stayed strong and continually told him no. Fuck, he even fought Yuki. But you found the two of them battling to the death and he'd seen you so angry, he had to step back. The way you stared at him is a face he never wanted directed at him ever again, so he stopped trying to intervene. Only sticking to the waiting game, and it was taking too long.
Nanami was better at waiting. He was better at staying in his place, staying quiet, acting innocent and holding up face. But even he wanted to step out of line to see what it takes to get you to pay attention to him. To get you into his arms. He used to bring the two of you coffee every morning when you showed up at work together, struck conversation with the both of you, spoke with Yuki more than he did with you to try and steer away possibilities that he was trying to get at you. He thought he was good at what he did. It shook him to his core, disturbed him, when he was pulled into a dark room by you-know-who and was asked of his real intentions. "What? Did you want a threesome? Trying to break us up?" She taunted him, telling him he was just like Gojo, trying everything in his power just to get at her girlfriend. Told him it was obvious when he stared from across the room, crossing his legs to hide his boner like a teenage boy. She laughed in his face and cornered him into a wall, threatening to tear out his jugular. "She likes you more than the other rats scattering around us." But he knew better than to assume that would ever be a green light to continue with his tricks. She told him to keep silent like he usually is, and he won't lose the only life he has. He gave up.
Yuki and Ieri formed an alliance. If she keeps an eye out to protect you from the horndogs that constantly surround you, she can talk with you as much as she desires(as much as Yuki allows her to). But in your eyes, Shoko is a weird case. Because you see her more than you do the rest of the men at Jujutsu Tech. And even though Yuki always tells you to watch out for Shoko, she only lets you freely hang around her more than everyone else. You assumed they spoke of something alone because Yuki almost always pulls her away to have a secret conversation about something you can't ever think up an answer for. Shoko was great to you though. Always gave you snacks, was hilarious and knew how to make you laugh. She never smoked around you, saying she doesn't want you to breathe in the flames. And not only that, she flirts with you constantly. But Yuki never seems to care much when it happens. Maybe they became friends not too long ago...? You can't put your finger on it.
It doesn't help that she likes to show you off. It really doesn't help. Often, everyone follows the both of you to get a chance to talk to you. But when she's right there as your guard dog, it brings their chances back down to a zero. And they would just push her away and bribe someone to just throw her in the ditch, but Yuki isn't just a regular shmegular person to fuck around with. She is, in fact, a special grade sorcerer who would fold a good 85% of the sorcerers in her area if she were pushed to do so. So, you are just a beauty to see from afar.
Complimenting your cute outfit before the two of you go somewhere in town, making you spin, squeezing your ass and making you laugh. Kissing your sweet lips and being able to breathe in your scent. They see it all and can't help but fucking fume at not being able to have you. They probably won't ever have you.
Yuki also wishes you'd stop talking to the brats that constantly berate you. Nobara and Yuji are constantly in your space like little puppies excited to see their owner after a long day. Nobara will whine excessively if you are about to be pulled away, or is pulled away. You love to give her hugs and even little gifts that you know she's wanted for a long time. Yuuji consumes every snack you give him in exactly one second, and you tell him every time to please chew it slowly(he never does). He has such convincing puppy eyes and requires you to stay with him for an extra three minutes, which for each minute, Yuki plans to threaten him to leave you alone(they almost fight every time). You treat those two as if they were your children and people can't help but feel extremely jealous every time. Of course you give the younger ones affection, of course they get your snacks, attention and loving. And of course they get the OK to do it because they're young. It makes everyone else sick to their stomach with anger.
Her biggest concern right now is you're telling her about your new friend you've made(that she can't find and stalk for some reason). You say he has long and healthy hair, is very sweet to you and you two talk about religion all of the time and that he has very interesting "political" views. She knows he's a sorcerer because she can smell it on you every time you come back from an outing alone. She knows that this asshole wants you and makes it known by bringing you back to her smelling completely different and she can see his lingering energy surrounding you. It pisses her off. She's definitely gonna have to do something about it.
Anyways. Yuki has it best, obviously. Her only goal is to get you out of sorcery and to just become hers full-time. Not like you need anything else to worry about besides her. I mean, she could just provide for you entirely. She tells you every day that you're lucky that she doesn't have a real dick, because things would definitely be different if so. It makes you squirm happily and she loves teasing you about it every time with her wolfish grin. She knows she'd get some soon if she says it with that playful and hungry tone you love.
#jjk#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#reader#yandere character#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yuki tsukumo#yandere yuki tsukumo#yandere geto suguru#yandere satoru gojo#yandere nanami kento#yandere yuuji itadori#yandere nobara#yandere various#various x reader#yandere shoko#yandere toji
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In honour of the last race of the season, here are some respectful moments from 2023 🩷
#i havent edited in a while and i made myself giggle bc there were so many catty and cute moments this year. so i didnt end up editing much#take this in the spirit it was intended AS A JOKE. idk how it could offend anyone but just in case#f1#daniel ricciardo#lewis hamilton#charles leclerc#george russell#max verstappen#carlos sainz#abu dhabi gp 2023#toto wolff#Christian horner#formula 1#lando norris
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yayy happy 12k!! love your writing so much!!🫶🏻
can i ask for “i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing” with minghao x virgin!reader
you’re trembling, oh god you’re trembling.
minghao regrets everything. it hadn’t even been his idea to have sex but he should’ve suggested you wait a little longer instead of jumping on the opportunity as soon as it was offered to him. god damn his weak spirit and your feminine wiles. he never stood a chance.
he’s never seen you this nervous before. he’d do anything to reassure you and calm your nerves so he says the first thing he can think of.
“don’t worry, i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing.”
what the fuck. is wrong with him.
you laugh, thankfully, but minghao has yet to recover.
“i don’t know what i’m into, remember?” you remind him, still smiling.
minghao wishes the floor would open and swallow him whole. “oh. yeah, right haha.”
“you seem more nervous than me. are you sure you’re not the virgin here?”
“i just want it to be good for you,” minghao whines. “i want you to have good memories attached to your first time.”
“i already do.”
“huh?”
“i already have good memories,” you insist. “you fingered me, you ate me out, you told me a shitty joke, what more could a girl want?”
minghao scoffs. “a not shitty joke and to cum on her boyfriend’s dick?”
“that sounds like a lot of work for you, i’ll just take the latter.”
he finally giggles with you this time. “coming right up, pun intended.”
12k celebration
#answered#seventeen smut#svt smut#minghao smut#xu minghao smut#the8 smut#seo myungho smut#myungho smut
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hits different | luke hughes
summary: after breaking up with luke, you realize that he wasn’t just another boy.
request: yes / no
warnings: drinking, throwing up, cursing, sad girl behaviour
a/n: based on hits different by taylor swift. i have a deeply concerning attachment to this song. also why did this take literally a full week to write???
word count: 1.2k
The smooth tequila rolls right down your throat as you slam the shot glass back on the bar top. You recognize that you’ve hit your limit when the alcohol didn’t even burn when going down.
You were a mess. Everyday following your breakup with Luke, you’d been a mess. He’d made a mess of you.
You’d tried to wash your hands of him, going to a bar every other night, but not even the strongest spirits could rid you of his. He seemed to haunt you, with bits of your relationship coming back every time you were out.
“Why does every bar play this damn song?” You groan, dropping your head to the sticky wood.
The sound of French Montana fills the room. Unforgettable initially started as a joke between you and Luke, as it was a song that tended to play in every space the two of you went together. On the radio during drives and in restaurants on date nights.
Eventually, it became your guys' song. Anytime you heard the song, you thought of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend.
“Y/n, love is a lie.” Yasmina said.
You’d heard those words countless times over the past couple of weeks. It was something of a mantra you and your friends lived by.
“I know, I know! I’ve always been able to move on so easily.” You say. “But with him… with Luke it just… hits different.”
You drop your head back to the table, feeling the tears well in your eyes. The tears seemed to come anytime you were reminded of Luke, which was proven to be often. The last few weeks had been hell for you, reeling from a love you never intended to have.
“Y/n please don’t tell me you’re crying again?” Tasha groaned.
“I just…” You heaved. “Miss him.”
A hand rubs across your back, offering sympathy and comfort. “I need another shot.” You declare.
Your friends shoot each other concerned looks but you’ve already flagged down the bartender and ordered another shot of tequila.
The new alcohol that enters your system leads to more rambling about Luke.
“They say that if it’s right, you know, right? If breaking up with Luke was the right thing, I’d know. In my soul.” You mumble. “But it feels so fucking wrong!!”
Your friends let you babble on for a few more minutes before Yasmina decides your night is done. She takes care of your tab while Tasha calls for a cab. She guides you out of the front doors and onto the sidewalk, keeping your stumbling frame steady.
Suddenly your mind is filled with images of Luke, holding another girl in his arms. You pictured him loving another girl the way he loved you; gently, but fearless enough that he’d fight you when you were being stubborn.
You’re not sure if it is the thought of Luke with other girls or simply the copious amount of alcohol you’d consumed so far, but the contents of your stomach spill out and onto the street.
Tasha holds back your hair, another wave of nausea coming over you. You wipe your mouth, straightening up. Your friend gazes at you, a look of pity painted on her face.
“Don’t look at me like that.” You pout.
She sighs. “It’ll get better, hon.” She says. You slump down to the sidewalk, setting yourself on the curb.
You prayed she was right.
Tasha says a silent thank you as the cab pulls up in front of you guys. “Okay missy, go home and sleep this off, okay?”
She guides you into the back of the cab, setting you down on the seat.
“I miss Luke.” You slur. The door slams shut beside you and the driver pulls away from the curb.
The drive back to your apartment was filled with silent tears. You’d ruined yet another evening with your grieving. It probably wasn’t long till they stopped inviting you to the bars, your sadness being too contagious for them.
The cab pulls up outside your apartment. You stumble out of the cab and up the stairs inside. You haphazardly toss your keys to the counter, teetering to the bedroom.
Your bedroom reflected the way you felt. Messy. Clothes were thrown around the floor, your bedding remaining unfolded and rather in a clump on the mattress. Luke’s hoodie was on the corner of the bed. It no longer felt like his hoodie, but rather yours. He’d given it to you early on, before you were even dating. His smell was long gone from it, now replaced with your perfume.
The little pieces of Luke you refused to throw away or give back were scattered around your messy room. Everywhere you looked in your room you were reminded of him.
The hat you knew sat on the top shelf in your closet was like a beacon, calling your name. You opened the closet door, seeing it sitting atop the box that contained mementos from your relationship. The God awful Yankees hat that Luke always wore taunted you. It reminded you of all the little things in your relationship.
You grabbed the box, taking it to your bed and carefully peeling the lid off as if something was going to jump out at you. Right at the top was a photo of you and Luke, still in his game day equipment from his first game as a part of the New Jersey Devils.
Underneath are a series of birthday cards, photos, and various ticket stubs from Devils games that you’d attended. With each artifact you pull out, the tears intensify until your vision is reduced to a blurry mess.
Mentally, you cursed the space that you asked Luke for. There was a lot of uncertainty in your life, with having recently graduated and needing to find a full time job in your chosen field. You felt overwhelmed and confused, leading to you having doubt in your relationship. Luke tried to convince you to stay, but you didn’t listen.
You asked for space and he listened. You hadn’t seen him in just over a month and it has been the hardest month you’d ever been through.
You couldn’t understand why you were still hurting. It wasn’t like you to still be caught up on something you ended.
The sudden sound of keys jingling in the door pulled you out of your daze. There was only one other person who had a copy of your keys. The door clicks open and shut, the sound of shoes shuffling through the apartment. Your bedroom door creaks open, Luke’s head popping in the doorway.
He takes in your sad sight, you with tear filled eyes, bundled up in blankets with mementos of your relationship scattered around the sheets.
He wastes no time in joining your side, curling up next to you. You slide right into your arms like they were built to hold you. The tears don’t stop, if anything they fall harder now that Luke was holding you.
It takes you a minute to calm down, finally speaking after a couple of minutes. “I was wrong.” You croak. “I was so so wrong, Luke.”
He shushes you, placing a soft kiss to your forehead. You look up to him, his hair inviting you to run your hands through it like you once did. His eyes look back into yours, carrying pity undoubtedly for you and the state he left you in.
You chuckle looking away and peeling yourself from his arms. “I’m such a mess.” You say.
Luke reaches back for you, pulling you back in. “Shut up, you're beautiful.” He says.
You slot in between his legs, his arms finding their natural spot.
“You still melt my world, dream girl.” He whispers.
#luke hughes#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagine#new jersey devils#nhl#nhl blurb#nhl imagine#hockey#hockey imagine
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MATCHMAKING!
PAIRING - remus lupin x reader
SUMMARY - in which the academic rivalry between you and remus turns into something more with the help of his friends, who make sure that their best friends get his happy ending
WC - 821
EXTRA - mentions of drinking, dancing, remus being jealous, no mentions of y/n, lower case intended,
NOTES - hi angels, leaving you on cliffhanger heheh;) this was requested in my ask box and thought i would finally get it out, ik its short but let me know if you want the second part:)
PS. - english isn’t my first language so of you see any grammar or spelling mistakes please don’t hesitate to point them out<3
-
from the moment you and remus lupin first crossed paths, you two knew that you were destined to be rivals. both of you were exceptionally gifted students, with a thirst for knowledge that knew no bounds. and so, from that fateful day onwards, you engaged in a fierce competition that would last for almost the entirety of your time at hogwarts.
your rivalry manifested itself in many ways, from academic achievements to gaining more house points and everything in between. you vied for the top spot in every class, each determined to outshine the other and prove their superiority. and as the years went by, their rivalry only intensified, with neither willing to back down from the challenge.
yet, amidst the fierce competition and the constant battle for supremacy, you and found yourselves drawn to each other in a way that neither could explain. it was a connection that went beyond mere rivalry, a bond that defied logic and reason.
as the two of you navigated the treacherous waters of your academic rivalry, you and remus found solace in each other's company, sharing late-night study sessions (even if you two wouldn't say a word to each other, the comfortable silence was actually comforting) and engaging in spirited debates about your favorite subjects. you challenged each other's beliefs and pushed each other to new heights, each secretly admiring the other's intellect and determination.
but it wasn't until your fifth year at hogwarts that you and remus's rivalry took an unexpected turn. the marauders, remus's friends who were too tired of seeing their friend arguing with you and at the same tine punishing himself by not admitting his true feelings, decided to intervene, determined to help their friend realize his true feelings for you.
the rest of the marauders had a plan, and they were determined to make remus realize his feelings for you once and for all. they had enlisted the help of the girls, and they were all in on the plan. they knew that you had feelings for remus (even if you didn't know it yet), of course they did- they were your best friends after all. and so they were determined to help you win his heart.
the gryffindor common room was decorated with streamers and fairy lights, and the air was filled with the sound of laughter and music. they were all dressed to the nines, ready to have a good time.
lily was wearing a beautiful green dress that complemented her fiery red hair and made james’ jaw drop and eyes almost pop out of his sockets the moment she entered the common room, marlene was in a sleek black jumpsuit, and alice was in a stunning pink dress that matched her bubbly personality.
but it was you who caught remus's eye as soon as you walked into the room and made your way towards the girls, in need of a drink. remus couldn't help but feel a surge of jealousy as he watched other guys eye you from head to toe from across the room.
as the night went on, the marauders put their plan into action. they made sure that you were always by remus's side, engaging him in the conversation and laughing at his awkward jokes (which to be fair were actually funny). they even got sirius to ask you to dance, knowing that it would make remus jealous.
but remus was too caught up in his own feelings to notice what was going on around him. he couldn't take his eyes off you, and he couldn't shake the feeling that something was different about you tonight. you seemed more confident, more sure of yourself, and it was driving him crazy.
as you danced with sirius, his hands on your body and you laughing at his stupid jokes, remus wished it was him instead, he hadn’t realized that his grip had tightened around the cup he was holding, his eyes narrowing. he wished it was his hands on you, dancing with him, and he realized he was longing the sound of your laughter at his admittedly stupid jokes.
it was then that Remus realized the depth of his feelings for you, a realization that both thrilled and terrified him. he had spent so long denying his feelings, burying them deep within his heart, that he didn't know how to express them. he was scared, terrified from both the fact that there was a possibility you didn’t share his feelings back, and the possibility of him hurting you one way or another.
with a surge of determination, and maybe too much of alcohol in his system, even tho he couldn’t really get drunk due to his condition, he still could get tipsy, and the tipsy remus was way more confident than the sober remus. he made his way over to you and sirius, his heart pounding in his chest. he had to tell you how he felt, before it was too late.
#fanfic#x reader#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin#marauders x reader#the maruaders#remus lupin being an oblivious#for the record so are you#remus x reader#remus being remus#remus x you#elenawritesxx
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On Your Knees
A/N: So as I noted in this teaser thingy, I don’t really intend to be back on tumblr actively, BUT I just couldn’t resist writing for Kai!! This fic will be smutty, while also providing a bit of backstory that I feel he needs and deserves honestly. I fucking love this guy 💗
Pairing: Kai x F!Reader
Warnings: smut (p in v, oral), swearing, dom!Kai, dirty talk (but it’s not until Part 2 that shit gets degrading and dark)
Word Count: ~3.8k
“On your knees.”
It’s been forever and a day, since you last laid your eyes on Kai. Since then you’ve searched for him across the whole entire fucking sky. Whatever words you had expected him to say… you never would have dreamt of these.
On your knees.
The blood in your veins is on fire; it burns as the blue of his gaze starts to freeze. The blaze rises higher, so desperate to melt down this fortress of ice that you hadn’t believed you would find. Paid the rumors no mind—he’s a bounty hunter or a gun for hire, who would sell his soul to any well-paying buyer, or so everybody agrees—yet you’ve come here to seek out the true heart of gold that you know lies behind. But all gold can be sold and it seems that he’s taken his fees.
And now he’s set on taking whatever he damn well may please.
Your voice escapes your throat pathetically. “Kai, it’s me…”
Cocks his head. Lifts his brow. Silent laughter at what you just said. Obviously. But who you are doesn’t mean shit to him now. “Aye, I see.”
You might just choke. The heart that never once stopped beating for this godforsaken rogue just fucking broke.
He snickers down as if the beating of your heart is just a joke. The curl of those cruel lips holds even more force than his words. And that’s what brings you to your knees and makes you weak, so weak it hurts, as he comes close and rests his palm against your cheek, piercing your soul straight to the core with just one stroke.
Straight to the core. Summon what strength you have to speak, unsure whether the vows that you once made have any value anymore. “I’ve come back to you just as I swore…”
“Of course,” he utters as those ice-blue eyes seek out and strike the deepest truth in yours. “You’ve come to me just as you were before: still nothing but a worthless fucking whore.”
***************
--- Years Earlier ---
“Impressive.”
You smile over your shoulder as he comes up from behind to wrap his arms tightly around you, in a warm embrace that’s all at once affectionate and aggressive. Passionate and possessive. Just as his touch is every night when he pins you to bed and pounds you.
Kai is wildly impressed to see you standing tall at the helm of this ship where he’s found you. The ship is in shambles and beaten down, long since abandoned here out on the plains past the outskirts of town. Still the grandeur of spacefaring vessels like this never fails to astound you. The freedom that they represent gives you hope that someday you and Kai might escape from this planet that’s bound to the rule of a ruthless imperial crown.
Yet this starship is broken and dead. It feels good to stand here for a bit and pretend you can steer it—steer something for once in your life so that you can cling onto what little is left of your spirit, forge on towards the future instead of just having to fear it… but you know it’s best not to let false hope get to your head.
“You’d make a fetching pilot, love,” Kai purrs into your ear while he plants kisses on the soft skin of your neck. “So fucking hot I think you might stir up the engine of this wreck. Won’t be surprised if you just up and fly it off.”
The laughter on your lips melts into his, as you lean back to taste his kiss. “I wish I could. The two of us would fuck shit up in space so good.”
“Aye, that we would.”
For now Kai is more than content to fuck you up against the window of this spacecraft and you both know that’s exactly what’s in store. Know you were put upon this planet just to serve him as his filthy little whore. On any planet you would always be just that and nothing more.
Through the layers of both of your clothes you can feel the thick length of his shaft, pressed up against your lower half. Desperate hands reach into his pants to set him free and grasp at every perfect inch of him that you exist to worship and adore.
“Impressive,” you echo his words from before.
He chuckles in that playfully suggestive, sinful way that always hits you in the slick heat of your core. The man knows he’s massive. He wields his cock like a damn weapon of war.
But with you it’s a war fought for love and he makes it so pure.
It’s just unfathomable to you that this man is fucking yours.
You’ve only ever been to this small corner of the vast expanse of space, yet when you look upon his face, you have no doubt that he’s the most beautiful man in all the universe.
As ever in his presence you’re tempted to fall on your knees. It’s your favorite position: to kneel before him in submission. To swallow his cock till he fills your throat with his delicious release. Kai knows this but is ever the tease. He knows just what you’re wishing, but holds you up right where you are to prevent you from sinking so he can keep kissing your lips, one hand gripping your hips, while the other roams over the parts of your body that nobody else ever sees.
“K-Kai please…”
“What is it you want?” he sadistically taunts, and then animalistically grunts, as he feels the wetness of your cunt.
You can’t speak, at the touch of his fingers exploring the treasures they seek.
So he feeds you the words. “This big cock in that sweet little mouth of yours?”
“Yes—please, yes…!” you gasp, heightening his desire as well as your own as you handle his hardness with long strokes and squeezes, loving how it throbs in your tightening grasp.
Kai loves making you plead, getting off on the way that you moan for him over and over again. Till he’s ready to finally provide what you need. Ready now then he reckons. A wicked smirk crosses his mouth and it threatens to end you this second. “Indeed. Since you’re beggin’.”
At last then he lets you sink down to the floor, where you instantly bury your face in his crotch and start slobbering madly all over his cock because this is what you fucking live for.
He smells and tastes simply divine. Better than any man fucking should. Smash your nose in the fine golden hairs at the base of his dick and get drunk on his scent like it’s wine… swipe your tongue up the length in a sensuous line…God it’s good. The salt and sweetness and the musk with earthy undertones of wood. You know nothing of what gods exist in this world or the next, other than being certain that Kai is a living breathing god of sex.
His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer into him and holding you right fucking there. It’s heaven when he plows your throat. No other feeling could compare. You reach to clutch at the firm muscles of his ass and meet his blue gaze as you eagerly wait for him to unravel and explode. The twinkle in his eye reminds you that you’re his and that he never wants to share, just as he’s yours and no one else deserves the privilege to take his precious load.
You take it down with your cheeks hollowed, throat contracting tight around him as he groans in utter bliss. Your love for him deepens with every drop you’ve swallowed, since the day when you first met and every day and night that’s followed. Didn’t think it would be possible to love him more than this. To be so cock-drunk and so lovestruck… fuck, it’s glorious.
Your worship of him always takes him somewhere far beyond the stars. So fucking far. He loves the whore you are, just as you love the whore he is. The kind of love that heals as deeply as it scars. You’re only whores for one another which is why the love you make is always pure no matter how dirty it is.
He worships you in turn, that filthy mouth on him a fire-breathing sin. Making you burn. Laying his claim to every last inch of your skin and every fiber of your being deep within. Your impulse is to be down on your knees for him but when the man insists on pleasuring your cunt—because for him your pleasure’s always at the forefront—well of course you just give in.
And then he fucks your cunt to pieces to make sure you won’t ever forget that his sex is the reason you’re living.
You can’t begin to wrap your mind around him being so damn perfect. But you sure as hell can wrap your pussy tight around the war weapon that’s pumping deep inside of you so powerfully erect. Both of you like it good and rough, and soon enough, this stranded spaceship’s not the only thing that’s wrecked.
The vessel tilts a little bit with his last thrust; this ship is huge but so is Kai, and he’s apparently so strong that he just rocked the goddamned deck. That shit is so insanely hot you might just die. Combust. Crumble to dust. As you both come down from the high, your pulse is racing and he traces its pace with his parted lips pressed to your neck.
The two of you remain entwined for hours, as you always do. Whispering sweet nothings that you wish could be true. Let’s just pretend this ship is ours. That the universe is ours. That we’ll fly away, and soar the skies someday, just me and you. But nothing is nothing regardless of how sweet it seems, and you can’t fly away from the fact that the universe bows to formidable powers. To forces that devastate dreams, through and through.
To the powers that be. Powers that crush all hopes of ever being free or being happy.
Kai reads your mind as your thoughts drift to that dark place. Knows that it’s time to tell you what he came to say, when he found you aboard this ship today, before he got distracted and ended up fucking your brains out past the farthest reaches of space. It’s not a message that he’s eager to convey. But it’s an order that you can’t really afford to disobey.
Still he wants you to stay, blue eyes begging you to as he softly caresses your face. Yet he knows on some level that dreams of resistance are silly to chase. That the price of just one slice of heaven is steep and there’ll be hell to pay.
He clears his throat and breathes in deep, wishing the price weren’t so damn steep. “Meant to tell you that he’s been… requesting your presence again.”
You had known to expect this. Chosen to neglect this. As if you could run to some empty abandoned starship to hide from the constant demands of that monster who thinks he’s a god among men.
But you can’t and to even attempt this… is useless and reckless. Though Kai referred to the imperial officer’s order as just a request, it was obviously a command. So you stand, smooth your skirt with a trembling hand—knowing Kai wishes he could hold on to you now and protect what is rightfully his—but your honor is yours to defend. No one else’s. All yours in the end.
He knows this too but wishes he didn’t. He hates this part. Watching you leave is the part when he cages his heart, locking it in a block of cement. “So you’ll just run off to him then?”
All too familiar with his defense mechanisms, you don’t halt your rhythm. The whole fiasco of this moment is always the same with him, despite the fact that he must know this isn’t something either one of you enjoys. So rather than rushing to blame him, or letting the swell of emotions inside you erupt into violence, you cast him a side glance, remind him in silence: it’s not as if I have a choice.
Evidently today the cement is much thicker than usual; the next words off his lips at your lack of response come off particularly cruel. “What, lost your dignity and your voice?”
God, he knows how to hit your inner slut, and make her want to die. To bleed her dry. His name escapes your throat in a defeated sigh. “Kai…”
He hates himself right now more than that monstrous fucking officer or anyone at all. Down to his core. Your knees just buckled and he rushes to catch you before you fall, but he’s so broken now himself that you both end up on the floor, down on your knees. The words he’d just uttered were driven by demons he’s struggling to bury—lately there have been a whole lot of these. Pulls you in close and releases his heart from its stone wall, as he dissolves into a mess of regrets and apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Inevitably you end up making love, which is the only answer when words aren’t enough. Soft and slow. But it has to end quickly, because you have somewhere to be. Can’t hold on to the afterglow. Leave before tears overflow. Just a few words then you have to go.
You wish Kai could see things from your point of view. He gives you every reassurance that he gets it; his response earlier was impossibly harsh but he clearly regrets it. Still you can’t help but feel as if he’s disappointed in you. Despite how authoritative the Imperium is and the consequences that are sure to ensue if you stand up against it… he sees your obeying the officer’s orders as something you’re making the choice to do.
And that view baffles you because how could you possibly choose to do something that fucking destroys you?
The officer knows all your weaknesses. If you should ever defy him he’d go after Kai, to hit you where he knows it would hurt you the most and you can’t stand to think or to speak of this. You’d rather die. And your fear of that terrible punishment forces your hand; you must heed his command. Without having to spell this shit out you just wish Kai would understand why.
“I understand,” he says, but he can’t meet your pleading gaze. He’s not quite certain whether what he said is true, and surely you would see right through. Instead looks out the spacecraft window at the distant stars that deign to cast their rays upon this conquered stretch of land. It feels like pity and that shit infuriates him in a million fucking ways. “I understand, I do. It just kills me to think of someone else inside you—”
“Kai, I’ve told you time and time again to trust me that he hasn’t…”
“That’s not even what I meant.”
“It’s what you said.”
With worlds of pain behind his plaintive eyes he reaches out to cup your cheek then smooths his thumb across the creases in your forehead. “What I meant is that I just can’t shake this sense that he’s gotten inside your head. To men like that nothing is sacred. He’s attracted to your spirit ‘cause he knows that he can break it. Wants to wait for you to give your body to him though it’s well within his power to just take it. And whatever little honor you’ve got left down to the final fucking shred… he won’t stop till it’s fucking dead.”
His warning chills you to the bone, because you know it to be true. For better or worse you’ve got some defense mechanisms of your own. Just a few. Brush off his touch and clench your jaw and let a little bit of spite sharpen your tone. “So then what would you have me do? Not all of us can be as honorable as you.”
Now his jaw clenches too. So hard that he might be at risk of breaking it. “The choice is yours, of course,” he mutters, eyes flashing an icy shade of blue. “Just know you’re making it. Don’t hide behind the lie your hand was forced.”
At that you turn to leave him with a scoff, throwing a bitter glare that tells him to fuck off.
But just before you disembark, you catch a glimpse of some metallic thing that glimmers in the dark. The mess of clothes that Kai had flung off of his shoulders when he fucked you up against the window, some hours ago… he’d had a gun tucked in among them and the sight of it right now is fucking stark. You have no reason to be shocked about it though.
He wasn’t hiding it from you; the fact that he’s been packing unauthorized arms is something you already knew. That doesn’t mean it’s something you wanted to know. Seeing this fatal metal thing strikes you as such a blunt reminder of what he intends to do. And you know where it’s bound to go.
Where your gaze and your thoughts wander his always follow. “There’s a strategy session set up for tomorrow,” he states in reference to the folks in your town who believe independence is something that any respectable person would die to defend. Even if it means battling forces against which they can’t even try to contend. “May be able to make concrete plans now that we’ve finally got enough guns stashed in our secret cargo. I already know better than to ask whether you’d want to attend. Guess the answer will always be no.”
The two of you have talked about this countless times before. And every time it turns to fucking when you both can’t bear the talking anymore. It’s irresponsible and immature, but in the rosy throes of youth, it seems to you love is the only fucking truth, the only thing you know for sure. The only thing that’s clear and pure. Love keeps you whole so you don’t fall apart from fear of what your hopeless-looking future has in store.
But you’re not that young, and you can’t just fuck away these pressing issues for that long. He can’t just kiss you to prevent the words from falling off your tongue. He knows it too and so you sit and talk for once and hope shit doesn’t go too wrong.
You admire and love him for being so brave and so strong. Tell him so. But that small band of big-hearted rebels is not somewhere you feel you’ll ever belong. He has to let it go.
And you have to let go of your hope that he might change his mind. That he might decide doing what makes sense to simply survive matters more than misguided delusions of honor chasing after some kind of freedom he won’t ever find.
You tenderly caress his face and feel the warmth of his blood rush to meet your hand. It’s all that you can do to pray his precious blood won’t spill someday fighting a war over some worthless stretch of land. This lovely planet is your home but in your eyes it’s all worth nothing without Kai. “I know how fiercely you believe in your brothers, and in your friends. In the rebellion that all of you have planned. What terrifies me is this feeling that it’s fucking doomed to fail and if you die… I can’t fathom anything worse. Of course I know the choice to fight with them is yours, but for my part I’m not as brave as all the others. I can’t bring myself to stand behind this cause when I’m afraid it won’t be worth it in the end. Please understand.”
Kai leans into your touch and turns his face to kiss your palm, cracking a sad smile to fight the tears that otherwise would come. Unshed they shine like stars hiding behind his eyes so blue. “Aye, I do.”
It’s a lie. Lie as big as the sky. But he hides behind it till it might become true, or at least fucking tries to.
At that it’s time for you to go, fearing that you should have done so hours ago. The sheer pressure of fear shatters you; fact is deep down it shatters him too. He just copes with his hopes and fears in a more complicated way.
“I promise I will always come back to you.” These are the same words that you always say, when you leave—words you fiercely believe—to assure him that nothing could keep you away.
When you leave him with those words Kai usually lets you, eventually once he’s done venting all his pent up rage and dealing every card he has to play. But evidently not today. “You wouldn’t have to. If you’d just stay.”
The way his voice trembles with gentleness, with selflessness, as he abandons every one of his defenses… it fucking kills you when he gets this way. It doesn’t happen often, and it always makes your heart open and soften. “That’s true. Maybe I can keep him waiting just one day…”
His eyes go wide, unable to believe that this is something you would actually decide. It makes him love you even more and suddenly he’s shy and blushing as if he thinks he’s unworthy of the privilege of your touch. “Or just one hour or one minute for I ought to know I shouldn’t ask too much—”
You shut him up with your forefinger pressed against his luscious lip. Provocatively bite your own to make it known that you want him to spend all day fucking you up against this ship.
Last time he did it shook the whole entire deck; maybe this time the sex will be so fucking hot that it’ll set fire to this wreck. Wouldn’t put anything past Kai. It’d be a perfect way to die.
Slamming your back against the window of this wrecked dreadnought, he effortlessly reads your every thought—goddamn that thought just now was a particularly bold one—and from his wicked smirk it’s plain to see that he agrees it would be perfect and insanely fucking hot. “You might want to hold on.”
And you do, clinging closely to him like the sky clings to stars at the coming of dawn. In the bright glare of day they’ll no longer shine through. But that won’t mean they’re gone.
Here tonight, and even if they’re out of sight, come morning light… all the stars in his eyes shine for you. With those stars guiding you, you’ll hold on.
***************
… To be continued in Part 2!
The plan is for Part 2 to explore more of the earlier timeline and also carry forward the opening scene of course, which is when dark degrading dom!Kai will be out in full force 🔥
If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist for this fic (below), just let me know! Much love to all of you 💖
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This request is actually inspired by my fic I'm writing and I wanted to see your interpretation of the scene.
Tav is the daughter of a well known pirate, basically the black beard of Baldur's Gate, but after an attack that lead to her father and alot of the crews death she roamed Baldur's Gate until the mindflayer thing happened.
Currently, she and everyone are at a tavern, celebrating another successful quest and honestly still being alive when she hears a familiar song and she sees four old crew members (family) she thought was gone. What is your interpretation of the scene, how would Astarion would react to the news, and seeing her reuinte with her family?
I did not expect this to turn out as long as it did lmao
Astarion x fem!Tav/Reader (can be read as gn)
Warnings: fear of abandonment, alcohol/drinking, swearing
Word Count: 2,123
Main Masterlist
Baldur's Gate 3 Masterlist
AO3
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The tavern was lively and bustling on the evening you and your companions squeezed in, the sun beginning to paint the sky in dramatic colors as it sets. Almost instantly, your party's spirits are lifted - yours included.
Finding a table for 7 people is no easy feat, but you manage to snag one in the corner. Drinks were served around, jokes about the battle you’d just endured and old stories of lives before the Illithid threat fill the air with an easy camaraderie. It reminds you of your father's ship, of the crew that raised you. Thinking about them again left a bitter taste in your mouth. Astarion must have noticed the distant look in your eye. He reached under the table for your hand, interlacing your fingers easily, and trying to catch your eye.
You smile at him, but your eyes are still glazed over. “I’m just thinking about my family, is all,” you tell him, as though it’s as mundane as thinking of what one needs to get from the market to make dinner. You’d told him of your father, his crew, the ship - and what happened to it. It’s been months, but it’s still too fresh. You still wake up in the dead of night from visions of colossal waves that pull your head under, and screams cut short with the slice of a cutlass. “This… reminds me of them.”
He offers a concerned smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “I’m flattered we remind you of drunken sailors,” he drawled sarcastically. It worked to get a laugh out of you, if nothing else.
“Drunken pirates,” you correct. He watches the smile slip, your eyes become distant once more, water pricking at the corners.
Astarion had a… complicated relationship with family. He couldn’t remember his parents, and the “family” Cazador provided were less-than-welcoming at best. As such, he never really knew how to comfort you in times like these. Not that he knew how to comfort anyone, really, but he wanted to try, at least.
“Gods,” you sigh, choked with emotion, “I miss those daft fools.” You lean your head against his shoulder. He maneuvers to wrap his arm around your middle, holding you close, and takes your hand again. “We used to celebrate like this,” you mumbled. His elven ears picked it up easily. “We’d drown the night in ale and groan about it in the morning. Played knife-throwing games as our visions start to spin and double. Sing songs at the top of our lungs, like screaming it would scare away any monster at sea.”
You sigh again. Though he can’t see your face, he can see when you use your free hand to wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be burdening you with this.”
“Darling,” he hums, squeezing your hand, “we are technically in this together. Your burdens are mine and all that. In any case, you’ve carried all of our burdens, even when you didn’t have to. I’m only returning the favor.”
“Thank you.” You lift your head from his shoulder to kiss his cheek. He grins, all too pleased with the simple affection you lavish on him. “Now, enough wallowing.” You clear your throat and grab your tankard. “This is a celebration. And I intend to be too drunk to walk before the night is out.”
He sighed dramatically, lifting his goblet of wine. “And I suppose I’ll be the one to carry you back to camp?”
You smirk up at him, a glint in your eye. Like this, he can imagine you as the pirate you are. Swashbuckling and taking down other ships, climbing up ropes to the top of the sails, peering out from the crow’s nest for any sign of adventure. Dry land did not suit you, he thought.
But then came the thoughts that always followed. If you did return to the sea, to your old life with a new crew, after these tadpoles are removed, he couldn’t follow. The only reason he’s safe from the sun and the burn of running water was because of the damned, wriggly things. He couldn’t follow you onto a ship to be locked away in confined cabins until night, or help if the waters chose to fold over the deck in great big waves, threatening to take down the vessel. He couldn’t have that life. Not with you.
Your head was thrown back, neck bobbing with each gulp of shitty ale. You did not see the pain on his features those thoughts brought him. He tossed back the last of his wine.
You stand and gather the empty mugs of your companions, bright-eyed and ready for round after round (Karlach only encourages this.), when something sounds across the tavern. It’s a rather large establishment, and the bustle of other patrons covers up everything. But it’s there. Loud and boisterous and-
You rush to step over the bench and find the source of the noise. Astarion frowns and chases after. He’s right on your tail as you push through drunkards with half-formed “Excuse me”s and “Coming through”s. As you get closer and closer, the sound becomes clearer. It’s not just noise - it’s singing. A cacophony of voices all singing together.
You squeeze past a barmaid, nearly knocking the drinks from her hands, but the apology is lost when you see a table full of drunken pirates. One starts to take a swig mid-song, when his eyes land on you. He’s on his feet - Is that a peg leg? - in an instant, dropping the tankard carelessly to the table.
“Tav?” he gasps. The rest fall silent, turning around to see what the man was gawking at. They thought he was imagining it, as he’d done time and again since the attack. They all leapt up and rushed forward when you were more than a figment of their alcohol-addled minds.
Astarion was pushed aside as a horde of pirates surrounded you, hugging you and ruffling your hair and all speaking hurriedly with worry and joy. He can’t ignore the pain in his chest, as though someone had driven a stake through his heart. You hugged each one, misty eyed. Questions fell ceaselessly from your lips as you asked how they survived, what happened, what they’d been doing all this time. And he knew. He knew without a shadow of a doubt. He could not hope to be more important than your family. He couldn’t be the one you chose - not when you’d recounted your friends with tales of the open ocean and your father’s crew for hours.
He quietly backed away. The others ask why you rushed off and what was happening when he returned to grab the bottle of wine. He wasn’t too sure what he said. He’d like to think it was some sort of “They found their family” said with a charming grin, and a simple, but believable, excuse to go back to camp not like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs, but like a vampire with things that need doing back at camp. Alone. With a bottle of wine.
Your eyes are red and your smile is about to burst off your face when you drag your pirate family over to meet your companions. You’re bouncing on your feet with energy, introducing everyone and nearly crying again when the pirates embrace everyone like family. Your heart is soaring when you look around for Astarion, searching around the table, the bar, the crowd. And it starts falling when you don’t see him anywhere.
“Hey, have any of you seen Astarion?”
Gale groaned as he was released from a bone-crushing hug. He winced as he held his shoulder. “He said he was heading back to camp.”
Your heart crashed firmly against hard cement, leaving cracks in the foundation. “Back to- Why? Did he say why?”
“No,” Shadowheart answered this time, trying not to get caught admiring the intricate braid of another crewmate. “He just took the wine and ran.”
The warm environment suddenly felt cold and unwelcoming. Was he uncomfortable with your family? They were known to be rather callous and loud - maybe they’d scared him off? Was the idea of confronting their family just too stressful for him? Did it bring up unwanted memories? Why… Why did he run off?
You touch an older pirate’s arm, letting them know you’ll be right back. They smile and nod and pull you in for one last hug. It feels bittersweet. You dash off from the tavern back to camp.
When you arrive, he’s uncorking a second bottle of stolen alcohol, frowning and grumbling and pacing. He’s so deep in his thoughts, he doesn’t notice you’re there until you say his name. He frowns deeply at you. “Shouldn’t you be catching up with your family?” he asks, but it’s bitter and cold.
You frown. “I wanted you to meet them. Why’d you leave?”
He looks away, focusing instead on taking a long drink from the bottle. It’s had no time to air out; he almost grimaces at the flavor. He pretends to read the label. “It was getting a little crowded in there,” he dismisses.
“So you leave without saying anything?”
“Well,” he begins, drawn-out and sarcastic, creating a barrier between you and his emotions, “you were busy. I’d hate to get in the way.”
You huff. “Astarion, please, just tell me what’s wrong!”
“Nothing.” He scowls. He begins pacing again. “Nothing’s wrong! You’ve found your family again! I’m so happy for you.” He spits the word like it burns him to say it.
“Is that what this is about? My family?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?” you plead. “What’s wrong?”
“YOU’RE GOING TO LEAVE!” He sighs at his outburst, glaring at the ground. His feet are locked to ground, refusing to move closer or further away - because he can’t decide which would be better. “Once this is over, once we figure out how to remove these tadpoles, you’re going to run back to the sea. To a ship, with your family. And I can’t follow.” He scowls at himself. He hates laying out his thoughts, his feelings. It feels too vulnerable. He feels exposed. “You won’t stay on land.”
You won’t stay with me.
A silent war wages on in your head and in your heart. You’re torn in two directions - forced to choose between the people who raised you, the last fragments of your father and his ship, or Astarion, your vampiric lover. It’s painful.
You step forward slowly, like he’s going to startle and run away like a frightened rabbit. He doesn’t move. And he doesn’t look at you. The bottle in his hand feels too heavy.
“I love my family,” you start. You can see in an instant as his walls come back up. His face, still upset and angry, becomes stoic and defensive. “And I love the sea.” You stop in front of him. “And I love you.”
He closes his eyes, prepared for the rejection.
“I… I had a whole life on the ocean.” Your fingers brush his hand. It twitches involuntarily, wishing to hold you, for just one last moment. When he doesn’t pull away, you tangle your fingers with his. “I want to see what a future on land would be like.”
He swallows. He opens his eyes, but he can’t look at you. He looks instead at your hand in his. “And when you decide a life on a ship is better than hiding in the shadows with me?”
You pull his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles. He watches longingly.
“If I decide to sail again,” you accentuate your words with a kiss to the meat of his thumb, “I’ll come back. Over and over again. I’ll sail for a week and stay with you for a month. I’ll sail a month and stay with you a year. I love you, Astarion. And I will always choose you. And when we find a cure for vampirism, you can come with me.”
He huffs a laugh. “I’d be a poor excuse for a pirate.”
“You can scrub the deck.”
He finally meets your eyes with a playful scowl. It softens into something quiet and sad. “I don’t want to tear you from your family.”
You shake your head, stepping even closer. “You’re not, I promise. Now that I know they’re alive, I’ll be damned if I don’t keep in touch. But all they know is the sea. They have no reason to stay ashore - they’re heading out with a new captain next week.” You cup his cheek with your free hand. He sighs and leans into the touch. “I want to stay on land for a while longer.”
---
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A Little Less Conversation
My fic for day two of @harringrovelovefest!
Prompt: Conversation Hearts
T - 1.4k
***
When Billy finds the first one in his locker, he figures it has to be a joke. He squints to read the tiny writing on the little candy heart, ignoring the sure sign that he should really see an optometrist. “Be my sugar daddy” he mumbles under his breath, smirking as he looks around for the culprit. No one looks particularly suspicious, so he pockets the object, forgetting all about it as his math teacher springs a pop quiz on the class.
He doesn’t think about it again until the next day when he quickly trades his textbooks for his gym bag and hears something clatter to the bottom of his locker. Looking down, he sees another little heart resting there. Kneeling down, he picks it up and flips it so he can read the inscription on it.
“Hot stuff”. Well duh, he doesn’t need a candy heart to tell him that he’s hot. He is starting to get a bit curious about who’s leaving the hearts, though. It has to be the same person because it would be too big a coincidence for two people to have the exact same idea. He slides the second heart into the same jacket pocket as the first, intending to think more about it later, but by the time practice is done, he’s late for dinner and Neil is pissed, so it completely slips his mind.
By the end of the next day, he’s collected two more, one when he got to school, and one after lunch, both of them in the exact same spot, right at the front of his locker shelf, where he’s sure to see them. “Super cool” and “Groovy”. Whoever’s leaving the hearts must be a huge dork to use terms like that, but they make him smile anyway as he adds both of them to his small collection.
By the next morning, he’s come to expect a heart, and he’s admittedly a little bit embarrassed at how sad he is when there isn’t one there before homeroom. His spirits are lifted though, when he goes to grab the novel they’re reading in English and finds a fifth heart, pink, stamped with “Be good to me”. He’d like to be, but he’ll have a tough time of it if the mystery gifter doesn’t reveal their identity.
“You ever have a secret admirer?” he asks Harrington as they stand under the bleachers at lunch, sharing Steve’s sandwich and cookies while Billy has a smoke.
“No,” Steve says quickly. “Why?” He gives Billy a weird look, but Billy doesn’t really think much of it at the time. Steve’s a weird guy. If Billy took the time to dissect every weird thing he did, he wouldn’t have room in his brain for anything else. It sure is a good thing Steve’s pretty.
Billy shrugs. “Just wondering. I think I might have one. I keep finding these candy hearts in my locker, but there’s never any note, just the hearts. For four days now.” He pulls them out of his pocket and thrusts them at Steve who takes them, looking each one over, carefully considering the messages.
“Sugar daddy, huh?” Steve laughs, holding up the first heart. “Is that something you’d be into?”
“No, it wouldn’t.” Billy replies, snatching his hearts back, trying to fight the blush creeping it’s way onto his cheeks at the thought of being Steve’s sugar daddy. God, he’s got to get over his stupid crush and just be happy to call the big dork his best friend.
It doesn’t stop him from imagining Steve taking his time to pick out perfect messages for Billy and sneaking them into his locker to put a smile on his face every time he finds a new one. By the day before Valentine’s Day, he’s got at least twenty hearts, some of his favourites reading “Be my love dove” and “I hope”. He’s stopped even trying to sneak up on his locker, because if it’s not Steve leaving the hearts, then he doesn’t care who it is.
Of course, as soon as he stops trying to find out the identity of his admirer, he catches them in the act. He’s forgotten his novel for English again, and the teacher lets him run back to his locker five minutes after class starts. The halls are deserted, except for someone, no, two someones, standing right in front of Billy’s locker.
He slows his pace, hoping he doesn’t scare them away. He squints, trying to make out who they are, wracking his brain, trying to think of what girls might fit the description of short, with short dark hair, and it looks like one of them is wearing a baseball cap? Billy really does need to go to the optometrist.
He tiptoes down the hall, making it to his locker just in time for Henderson and little Byers? to turn around, staring at him with wide eyes, looking ready to run for their lives.
“What the fuck is going on here?” Billy asks, really hoping that he doesn’t have to be a jerk and tell little Byers that he doesn’t return his feelings. The kid’s already struggling to find himself as it is. He doesn’t need the added stink of romantic failure.
“Uhhhhhhh, we thought you might like a little treat?” Henderson says, shoving an open box of candy hearts into Billy’s hands and trying to move around him to safety.
“I don’t think so,” Billy replies, holding out his arms and easily blocking both of them from moving. “You’re not going anywhere until you tell me who put you up to this. Was it my sister? That little rat’s been trying to get back at me for accidentally eating her Home Ec brownies for weeks now.”
Just then, he hears a voice around the corner. “Dustin, Will,” the voice hisses. “Did you get the combination right this time? We have to get out of here quick, I don’t want Billy to know how I feel yet…”
And with that, Steve comes into view, his eyes growing bigger than both Dustin and Will’s as he spots Billy. He tries to turn and run, the little bastard, leaving the kids to fend for themselves, but Billy’s not letting anyone go without an explanation.
“Freeze” he whisper shouts and Steve does as he’s told, slowly turning to face Billy again.
He sighs, ducking his head as he walks over to them. “Let the squirts go, they were just helping me.”
Billy lowers his arms and Will and Dustin scramble away as fast as lightening, leaving him and Steve awkwardly alone.
“So, care to explain what’s going on?” Billy asks, still holding the stupid box of hearts, trying to take deep breaths to calm his wildly beating heart. “Please tell me this isn’t some kind of sick prank, Harrington.”
Steve shakes his head vigorously. “No, Billy, I swear, it’s not. Everything those hearts said is true. I do think you’re groovy and super cool, and you are hot stuff, and I want you to be me sugar daddy. Not literally, but the idea is kind of hot. I just didn’t know how to tell you how I feel. But I want you to be my love dove, I want you to be mine, as cheesy as that sounds. Will you? Be mine, that is?”
He looks at Billy with hopeful eyes, and instead of answering, Billy pours some of the hearts in the box into the palm of his hand, trying to look for the perfect one. When he finds it, he presses it into the palm of Steve’s hand.
Steve looks down at it, a smile slowly spreading over his face as the message sinks in. “Kiss me” he reads out loud. “Gladly.”
And with that, the candy hearts are clattering to the ground, forgotten as Steve slides his hands into Billy’s hair and claims his lips with his own in a gentle kiss. It’s quick, for fear of being caught, but that’s ok. There’s always later. A million other opportunities for Billy to love up on the sweet as sugar dork standing in front of him.
#harringrovelovefest2024#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#chrisbitchtree writes#harringrove fic
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