#it should have been a strictly baby fight | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

madschiavelique · 1 year ago

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞 (𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

summary : so you were called for back-up on a mission with gwen, hobie, pavitr and miguel. you get him out of a tight situation, he drags you in a dark street, you get back to the team, you get shot in the thigh, and miguel starts sucking on the bullet to get it out of your skin :D (or most simply, how you got wounded and miguel is playing healing vampire)

content warnings : blood, bullet (if there are others please do tell so that i can add them !), biting (literal), miguel licking you, no use of Y/N word count : 5,3k

note : the spider babies feel like a lil found family to me, so i had to make them goofy in this. i thought about miguel’s bites not only being poisonous, but also in another dosage a great pain killer (i have strictly no idea about how realistic all this is but here have fun reading this besties). this stands as the first part of a 3-shot that i am writing for my bday which is in 4 days hehe (crying), also i didn't proof-read this and english is not my first language :D, enjoy

chapters' list : 1 - lovebite 2 - late night training 3 - unexpected mission (nsfw) 4 - shameless (nsfw)

Although this wasn't your first mission, you couldn't help but feel like a frozen steak being thrown into a hot pan. You weren't always flung into the thick of the action, of course, but today you were, because you'd been called in as reinforcements with Pavitr.

Miguel had taken Hobie and Gwen on this mission, hoping to get Gwen more used to the terrain. You had arrived a little after her, and for the moment you had restricted access to the field. But today was clearly an exception. You and Pavitr had been called in as back-up, and you immediately took the portal to the dimension in question.

As soon as you emerged from the portal, your spider-senses alerted you to the need to throw yourselves to the ground to avoid the rush of bullets that had been fired in your direction. Exchanging surprised glances, you began to crawl to the side of the building that seemed to be opposite to where the incessant gunfire was coming from, hoping to avoid being riddled with bullets. Because although Swiss cheese was appetising, it wasn't in your plans to become one.

Pavitr tapped his watch.

"Miguel, we're here, where are-" but he had no need to ask the latter's whereabouts, since right in front of them swayed Hobie and Gwen, who seemed to be fleeing... A bride?

It was a bride armed with some sort of personally optimised cannon that was firmly strapped to her body, and if your instincts were right, it would appear that her ammunition was not as simple as that commonly sold, and you dreaded to know what would come out if she fired. She moved with a sort of jet-pack, following your friends at breakneck speed, her long white veil rippling like a trail left behind an aeroplane. Immediately, the two of you began to follow to join them.

"Hey, Hobie! Gwen! We're here!" you shouted.

Suddenly, the bride's head swivelled in your direction, her big red lips stretching into a smile as her eyes widened like two big marbles. Ouch, maybe shouting your presence in the middle of a fight wasn't the right decision.

You could already hear Miguel's voice echoing in your mind: "You should have taken advantage of the surprise and used it to your advantage instead of letting the whole town know that two Spider-Men had just joined the fight!"

But hey, what's done is done, and you'll certainly remember to be more observant on your next mission.

"Ah, Miguel's little minions have joined the party! Honey?" she shouted as you both reached Gwen and Hobie, "we've got some newcomers, I hope they're on the guest list for the ceremony. It would displease me greatly if we had to eliminate them just for that reason."

"After all, murder and marriage are the same if the two people know each other and it all ends in death," you say, your eyes falling for a moment on the absolutely enormous cannon she seems to have programmed to shoot you.

"Marriage is just another contract to life anyway," replied Hobie, to which you nodded sharply. "Anyway, with her chemtrail theory flying around behind her, I'm worried."

It seemed that the anomaly was not a single anomaly, but rather a couple of anomalies, which was probably why these two had been asked to provide support.

"Where's Miguel?" asked Pavitr, all still running.

"Oh bloke, you're not going to believe your eyes when you see him," sneered Hobie.

"What happened?" you asked.

"I took a few photos of the occasion," said Gwen, "but nothing beats seeing it for real."

A loud bang sounded, and you turned to see what had just happened. The face of the building you were standing on was melting: the bride had fired a bubble of acid that had burst against the wall and was biting all the adverts that were stuck to it.

"Destroying propaganda? Bonkers, I'm starting to reconsider this," Hobie huffed.

"Miguel's further down the avenue, on that street over there," said Gwen. "Go and see him before he comes, it's well worth a look.

When the mystery is too great, you don't dare disobey, so while they were busy evacuating more civilians to reduce the number of casualties from the mission, you set off in the direction you'd been told.

You swung out into the street, and as you rounded the corner, you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The great Miguel O'Hara, the man at the head of the Spider Society, guardian and master of the inter-dimensional balance of events, was pasted up and looked like an Egyptian drawing in the process of running, or the typical chalk drawing you would draw on the ground at a crime scene, all covered in a gooey fluffy substance.

You swung over to him, and he noticed your arrival. You landed on the edge of the wall he was stuck on, biting your lip to stop yourself from bursting out laughing.

"If you want to say something now is the time to shut up." he said, teeth clenched.

"Gwen was right, it's definitely worth the trip. Comfortable? Need a magazine? A snack perhaps?"

"Hilarious, are you going to mess with me like this for much longer or are you planning to help me out of this situation?"

"My intentions were of a slightly more agreeable nature," you huff, walking towards him on all fours.

The substance surrounding him seemed to be a kind of solid foam that kept swelling slowly. You drew out your claws and began to cut the foam from his arm.

"Lovely couple over there, real synergy between the two of them. Shame almost half of marriages end in divorce."

"You get sentimental about enemies? Keep your sensitivity out of the fight and concentrate."

"Focus on foam? Honestly you know your Marshmallow Man costume lacks realism."

He let his neck tilt back until it touches the wall, murmured between his lips: "todos me vais a matar."

A small smile stretched across your face, the poor guy must have felt like he was babysitting, and although you were older than all the other teammates, hanging out with them brought out your absurd and more childlike side, your inner child in a way.

You managed to dislodge quite a bit of foam, but it was taking too long, it was thick and had the consistency of snow whose surface had crystallised.

"I'm pulling your leg, jefe" you say, the little use of the Spanish name making him react. What, You've got to make a profit from duolingo after all. " Okay, pull in your tummy."

"What?"

You raised your arm in the air, your claws extending a little further. Lately you'd been trying to see how far you could push the limits of your costume, and the increase in your claws was one of them. It was a bit painful, but if it meant Miguel could get out of this situation and get home safe, then you might as well take it. All you could hope for was that you wouldn't fail...

Then, with a sharp, wide stroke, you sliced through the foam. The cut was perfect, and Miguel, who was just as surprised as you were, popped out of his spot as if he'd just stepped out of a mould.

" Well," he turned to you, dusting off the few remnants of foam still clinging to his body, "observations?"

This was an exercise that Miguel inflicted on every recruit during their training or recruitment. It was simple: he selected a small anomaly to keep things simple, and asked the recruit what observations they'd make to neutralise the target. Except that, in this case, the anomaly wasn't so minor. You were racking your brains.

"I didn't see the husband, but I did see the bride. She's got a jet pack that should be neutralisable, it'll slow her down in her movements, but you'd have to aim carefully to do that. Her only power is her weapon, except that as it's attached to her it's going to be complex..."

Then you remembered her attire, and especially the long veil firmly placed on her head.

"Her wedding veil, you should be able to pull it down and hold it still."

Miguel nodded, you didn't know how to take the look he was giving you through the mask, but you hoped he was satisfied with the answer.

"The husband's pretty much the same, except-" but he didn't finish his sentence, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you instead into a much darker, narrower adjacent alley. He leaned against a wall, looking down at the street you had just left.

"Here's the husband," he murmured.

The suddenness of the gesture took you by surprise, of course, and you seemed unable to think straight. Not just because you were so close that your bodies were pressed together, but because all your senses, all your nerves, seemed to come together in one and the same place in your body, a place where it felt like sparks were flying: Miguel's hand was placed on your waist.

Through the thin but hard-wearing fabric of your suit, you could feel the heat from his fingers spread across your skin, sending a shiver down your spine and up to your neck and cheeks to warm them. His grip was firm on your flesh, and you tried to calm your breathing, which had been racing as fast as your heart at this closeness.

His second hand still had your arm in its embrace, and the simple thought occurred to you: what if his hand came down your arm to meet yours?

You looked up at Miguel's profile, watching the street you were on, alert. You took a deep breath as you watched him, his scent coming to you through the mask as earthy, pungent. And he turned his head towards you.

The distance separating your two faces was small, terribly small, and you wondered at that moment how the scene would have unfolded if neither of you had masks on. Would he have paid any attention to the way you were looking at him? Would those dark eyes have sparkled? Would you have been able to feel his hot breath on your face?

"Is everything all right? Your heart rate's increased."

The sentence refocused you for a moment as if you'd just plunged into icy water, your reverie no doubt perceptible through the suit. You lowered your eyes, glancing at the placement of his two hands on you, blinking rapidly as you tried to pull yourself together. Quick, an excuse, anything.

"The others," you breathed, using the card of concern for teammates, "I wonder how they're holding up."

"Uh huh..." he murmured, the answer only half satisfying him, his gaze piercing yours through his mask as you felt his hand tighten on your waist, another shiver running through your body. You didn't really understand why he'd maintained this seemingly intimate embrace, but to be honest, you weren't against the idea of this position for a few more moments.

It felt good to be like that, to share someone else's closeness.

He was so big, he seemed to engulf you with his size and thickness, looming over you, and so much strength and threat in one body aroused as much interest in you as it did fear.

Pull yourself together, for God's sake, what's Miguel, your boss? He's got better things to do than that, than get close to you, than get intimate with you...

He seemed to be inspecting you strangely, and the intensity of this gesture made you look down even more, the ground suddenly seeming very interesting to look at. But if he had anything to say on the subject, it could obviously wait until the mission was over.

"The way's clear, let's go," he says, finally letting go of his hold on you, "before these idiots do any more damage than they already have."

And with a thump, he pulled a web and propelled himself into the air. A gasp escaped your lips, the sudden sensation of not being touched leaving you feeling grey. You took a deep breath, trying to refocus your thoughts on the mission and not on the irreplaceable sensation that Miguel's hands had left on your body.

You dashed off in your turn, following him to join the others.

Not far away you could hear Hobie shouting: "They're pissing on us without even making us think it's raining!" Hobie, charming as always.

Needless to say, it was a fairground. Miguel threw a web in the bride's face and found the other three on a roof. Furious, he pointed his finger towards the corner of a building that was on fire, from the bottom of which civilians kept coming out, coughing, some even injured.

"Who did this?" he asked, his throat rumbling in frustration.

"You did," Hobie answered point-blank.

"Bravo," he growled sarcastically, "it's good to admit your mistakes."

"It's paradoxical communication," he informed you, avoiding a projectile that you couldn't identify, no doubt another munition of dubious composition from the bride's weapon, who seemed to be hurtling towards you with intensity.

" I Leave it to you for two minutes and you destroy everything," Miguel murmured as he began to run towards the enemy.

" Submerged by their numbers of two we couldn't do anything," pleaded Pavitr.

"Gobsmacked, maybe she's rebelling against a terribly phallocratic world," Hobie says as he dodges a huge snowball as big as himself launched from the cannon.

"Darling? Maybe it's time for dessert, what do you think?"

Shit, here comes the husband too. He was equipped with a jet-pack just like the groom, but his weapon was much less sophisticated than his wife's, a simple submachine gun, which didn't make it harmless, quite the contrary.

"Great idea! It's time for the icing on the cake," and with these words she seemed to throw portions of sweet and colourful cream towards your group.

"Come on, dance! Dance!" ordered the husband.

"No! I don't wanna dance, I'm from the town in footloose," you blurted out, trying to pull a simple web towards the cannon of the bride's gun.

You didn't succeed, but threw a second one anyway, taking the risk of standing still for a few moments to improve your aim. The web shot out and hit the barrel of the weapon. Yes! but the celebrations were short-lived, as a rush of bullets came crashing towards you, and even in your haste to escape, you were hit in the thigh.

A strangled little grunt vibrated against your teeth and lips, you didn't know exactly what it had struck in your leg, but the pain was sudden and stinging. Still, you followed the others a little, with difficulty. Every simple movement was a painful tug.

The group eventually stopped in an empty courtyard, to deliberate, talk strategy and how to organise themselves. The landing on the ground was a little abrupt, and you staggered back to your feet towards the group.

"Hey, you all right?" Hobie asked you.

"Never been better," you said, giving a thumbs up, your nose wrinkling at the next step.

"Are you sure you're okay? You're walking like a Disney witch," said Patvir, raising an eyebrow.

"Bollocks, your thigh!" pointed Hobie as he came towards you.

You looked down, the bullet had of course pierced the fabric of your suit, stretching the elastic material over your bloody thigh from the hole the bullet had punched in your thigh.

"Calm down," Gwen said in the distance, chatting to Miguel, "let me take care of this, Miguel."

"Like you've taken care of everything else so far, Gwen?" he said, his hands resting on his hips.

"Miguel?" called Pavitr.

"What do you want?" he asked as he turned his head suddenly towards where you guys were.

"Can't you answer 'yes' like everyone else?" gasped Pavitr.

But Miguel was already coming towards you, he must have seen the impact in your thigh.

"Nice icing on the cake, eh?" you said, laughing slightly at the situation. After all, ridicule poisons fear.

But the shots were already ringing out and they were coming towards you.

" Okay," breathed Miguel, "Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen, try to immobilise them. The husband is easy to neutralise, just hit his jet-pack and take away his weapon. For the bride, try to take her towards the river, if you make her fall into the water she will start to sink with all her layers of clothes and the weight of her dress. Pull her by her veil if you have to, but go ahead. The first one to do even a little unintentional damage again will end up with his back broken like a glow stick, got it?"

"I don't take orders," Hobie refused.

"Hobie, you take care of the bridegroom with Gwen," Miguel continued as if he wasn't listening to him any more, moving closer to you. He tossed him his multidimensional cell device, as if he was worth reaching for.

"Why does he only come and ask me things once a day, as if I were a vitamin?" Hobie huffs before launching himself into the air.

"Oh, you know, that's what we love about him, his boundless empathy," remarked Gwen before shooting a web and leaving in her turn.

"Why do I always get the less interesting ones," said Pavitr before leaving as well.

Miguel turned to you, taking off his mask. His brown hair was dishevelled and he didn't even put his hand through it before ordering:

"Sit.

You'd have liked to contradict him, to say that you could definitely wait until you got back to HQ and received treatment there rather than slowing down the mission when you'd literally been called in as backup. And here you were, the backup turned liability in the situation, so contradicting him wasn't really in your plans.

You backed away, leaning against the wall and letting yourself slide with difficulty against the bricks as you tried to put as little weight as possible on your damaged leg. With a muffled whimper, you reached the ground, stretching your bad leg further as you bent the other. You took off your mask in turn, no longer able to hide your expressions of pain. The sensation you'd had at first had been sharp, but now it felt like your thigh was on fire and the wound was licking at your skin like flames.

Miguel came forward and knelt beside you. His gaze was riveted on your thigh, and when his gloved hand came to rest beside the wound, you stiffened your back and couldn't help breathing in through clenched teeth. His brown eyes looked up into yours, watching your expressions through the wild strands of his hair. But it was also simply a look for permission to continue his gestures.

"If it hurts too much, use your mask," he said, his eyes returning to the wound.

The mask? In what way would the mask be- ah, so... You watched your mask, hesitating for a moment. What Miguel meant by that suggestion was biting your mask. Since you were probably going to grit your teeth, you might as well not hurt yourself too much and tear them up by biting into something. You wavered at the thought, preferring not to damage any more of your costume. You'd already dented it with your punctured thigh, but ripping your mask on top of that? No, preferably not.

His thumb felt your skin, and he pressed down on a spot that threw you so hard that your hand immediately grabbed his wrist. You were breathless, almost nauseous from the pain, and you opened your frowning eyes again to meet Miguel's gaze, which had stopped all movement of his hand.

You looked up at him, your eyes and nose stinging with the tears that threatened to spill from the pain. He breathed, his eyes falling on your hand, then straightened towards yours:

"If you don't let me touch it, I'll pin your hands down with my webs, is that clear?"

Biting the inside of your cheek, you let out a shaky breath and removed your hand, which seemed ridiculously small compared to his.

"Well, the bullet's really not deep, so it should be fine."

Honestly, you didn't know whether it was better for you to know what was going to happen, and you were somehow grateful that he wasn't detailing his operation to you, even though he was doing it mainly out of lack of time.

His two hands came to grip your thigh to hold it steady, he gave you one last look, then lowered his head close to your thigh, and you saw a flash of white gleam from his long, sharp fangs before they sank into your skin. A strangled cry drowned in your throat as you felt them ooze something wet, liquid seeping into your skin and blood.

Miguel's bites weren't just poisonous, they could also be incredibly helpful in situations like these, where they acted as both a mild painkiller and a kind of antidote that accelerated the healing process. And although the painkiller aspect wasn't performing well enough for your liking, you were still quite happy not to feel like you were in complete agony.

The sensation of his lips on your flesh, however, previously drowned out by the sensations of all your aching nerves, became much clearer. Their softness grazing your skin with more intimacy than he was aware of.

He hadn't bitten down on the wound, to prevent the bullet from moving any further, and you took a deep breath when he moved away, pulling his fangs out of your skin. His tongue cleaned them, and he glanced at you as he did so, just to make sure you were all right.

Please tell me I haven't become a big walking tomato, you thought. Now apparently the most important phase would begin: extracting the bullet. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, still feeling pain, then nodded to allow him to continue.

He bent down again, coming dangerously close to the wound, to your raw flesh where warm blood was dripping. The bullet wasn't far from the surface, luckily the suit had played a large part in cushioning it.

He breathed in lightly, then put his lips to the wound. A current of electricity ran through your body as all sorts of sensations mixed together in one place. The burn on your thigh had just met the slightly sticky wetness of Miguel's saliva and the warmth of his mouth and lips as he began to draw.

You realised what Miguel was doing, he was sucking the bullet out of your flesh. His tongue flicked lightly around the impact, and his fangs, still a little elongated, lightly traced your skin.

Your breath was erratic, and you tried to stabilise it, but the sensations seemed so extreme that the task was complicated. The thing about spider-senses is that your senses are heightened, so the slightest movement of Miguel's lips, tongue or fangs sent shivers through your body. He drew back to spit out the excess saliva and blood that had mingled before coming back and sucking harder. You could feel the bullet coming out little by little, still biting your lip fiercely until you felt a metallic taste, and were insistently reconsidering the choice of biting into your mask. So you switched to the side of your index finger, biting it as your frown of pain intensified.

Then Miguel pressed his lips a little harder, and your body had to grab hold of something. Then, inadvertently and with many mental 'oh no's attacking your being as soon as the gesture was made, you grabbed Miguel's hair.

His eyes immediately looked up at yours, wide, questioning the gesture, and the sight made you feel as if your heart had fallen into the warmth of your stomach. His brown eyes had a flash of red and peered through his long lashes, their colour blending perfectly with his blood-smeared cheeks.

You were so desperate for a foothold that your body hadn't given a second thought to what it should be gripping. He just froze, for a few seconds that seemed as long as minutes. You calmed your breathing, taking advantage of the respite from his movements to relax a little. Worried, you looked up at him again, dreading his reaction.

But nothing, no 'what the hell are you doing', no 'stop that immediately', no 'that's inappropriate', no reprimand, nothing. Your fingers in his hair relaxed, they were much softer than you'd imagined, but your hand didn't leave its place. You felt both his hands tighten around your thigh, making you swallow hard. He just gave you one last look before flicking his tongue around the wound and continuing his suction.

Your fingers reflexively gripped his hair again and Miguel let out a low rumble from his throat that vibrated up your thigh and into the bullet. The sensation was such that you suddenly turned your head to the side, closing your eyes tightly until you saw stars. The tears that had welled up started falling, determined.

Miguel's hot breath washed over your bare, rosy skin, turning visibly purple with the repeated suctions Miguel left in his path. His normal teeth were biting into your skin around the bullet to create the pressure that would eject it.

You locked your fingers in his hair again, and felt his hands tighten their grip on your thigh as a low hmpf vibrated against your skin again. Then he drew in harder, and pressed his teeth in deeper, and you felt your finger beading with blood as your teeth pierced your skin.

And then, at last, you felt the bullet come out. A deep sigh poured from your lungs as you eased your hand from his hair to wipe away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks. He stepped back, his eyes looking into yours, his cheeks and nose all covered in blood, and between his reddened teeth was the crushed bullet.

You looked at him like this, your cheeks heating up violently. He spat the bullet out to the side, then looked back at your thigh. He breathed heavily, clenching his jaw as he let go of your thigh, bringing one of his hands up to wipe his cheek with the back of it.

"Put some webs on it, that should be enough to last us until we get to HQ."

His eyes scanned yours, tired, reddened, a tear still running down them. He wiped it away with the back of his index finger, letting it fall onto the fabric of his suit. The gesture was gentle, almost like a caress as his finger gently traced your cheek.

"You did great, muñeca", he said, his voice soft, softer than you'd ever heard it.

The nickname gave you a warm, soft feeling in your lower stomach. He straightened up, his mask in hand, the other stretched out towards you, ready to be seized.

No comment on the pulled hair? You were afraid he'd mention it, or were you afraid he wouldn't mention it at all.

"Can you stand up?" he asked.

You looked at your thigh for a moment, then did as he instructed and pulled a few webs over the still open wound. Then, looking up, you grabbed Miguel's hand to help you up. You breathed through your teeth, the pain was still there, but now that the bullet had been dislodged and Miguel's pain-killing venom was coursing through your veins, the ache was lessened.

You were swaying slightly and Miguel's reflex was to place his hand on your waist to steady you. He gave a retentive tt-tt.

"Try to stick to the webs, do as little walking or running as possible," he said before putting his mask back on, which you in turn did. "Ready?"

You bobbed your head, putting your weight on your good leg, "ready.

With a nod, you both took off.

Soon you found Pavitr who had managed to catch the husband who, on closer inspection, had one of his eyes as white as a half-cooked egg. Perhaps this explained his random aiming. In any case, he was huffing and puffing like a rhinoceros.

"It's about time," Pavitr yawned, "your leg?"

You gave him a thumbs up.

" Where are Gwen and Hobie? " Miguel asked.

"Further down the river like you said."

"Well, you can go back to HQ, we'll take care of the rest- can you go on?" he said, turning to you.

"Yep, the only thing that could stop me would be myself."

"Was that the philosophical moment?" asked Pavitr. "That deserves a few lyrical songs, doesn't it?"

"It's pathetic," admitted Miguel as he left.

You followed him, Pavitr entering a portal to return to 928.

"Are you trying to destroy our pseudo-friendship?

"Pseudo-friendship?" he chuckles, "you mean how I removed that bullet with my teeth, and you-"

"Ah, the amnesia's getting to me!" you cut in, continuing along the road faster than him until you reach the river where, hanging from a lamppost on the quayside, the bride was dripping wet and stripped of her weapon. She seemed simply stunned, and Gwen and Hobie were standing in front of her, still tense from their fight.

You approached the two lads, smiling at Gwen who had finally succeeded in her training.

"Good job!" you said, raising your fist to her height, which she banged in a friendly manner, doing the same for Hobie.

"Hobie?" called Miguel in the distance.

"Don't move," said the latter, "it's like with bears, if you don't do anything they'll leave."

"This is the right way," affirmed Gwen.

"Where's the weapon?" asked Miguel, who had finally reached your level.

"It fell into the water," he replied simply.

"What?" asked Miguel.

"Relax, I'm just messing with you. It's behind you," he said, pointing with his chin at the wet weapon on the ground.

"So, how did it go?"

"I wouldn't go into details," Hobie sighed.

"What are you trying to accomplish here?" Asked Miguel.

"I don't want to listen to you; malicious criticism hurts my self-esteem and praise leaves me sceptical."

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, murmuring "Voy a matarlos."

"I hope one day you'll understand what I've just said," he whispered, climbing up the lamppost to unhook the bride and place her in another multi-dimensional cell.

"Did you hear anything?" you asked ironically.

"Oh no, I didn't hear anything, did you?" questioned Gwen to Hobie.

"I've got an ear infection."

You smiled at this conversation, watching Miguel fiddle with his watch.

"How's your leg, by the way?" asked Hobie.

"I've still got the bullet, I'm going to be ringing airport buzzers for the rest of my life."

"Huh?" exclaimed Gwen.

"Just kidding, everything's fine."

"Why do you have to be like that? In situations like this, 'I'm fine' is the standard response," she huffed.

"I'm on a strict diet of misplaced enthusiasm and gut-wrenching regret." You affirmed.

"Huh huh, diets are bad," Hobie remarked. "It's just another way for capitalism to prove that their system is superior to you."

"Well, come on, let's go home," Miguel called.

His eyes fell on you for a moment, and in the space of that glance the vision of his crimson eyes, his fangs glistening with your blood smeared across his cheeks came back to your mind. You entered the portal, and soon enough, as you got into the lift, the horizon formed as far as the eye could see, with towers sunk like daggers into the belly of the sky, and so high that, from sleep, you could plunge into the clouds.

And now you couldn't think of anything else but Miguel.

part two >> late night training

#madschiavelique ⟢ ݁ ˖‧˚₊ ☁︎#miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 spiderverse #astv miguel #miguel astv #astv #astv x reader #spiderman atsv #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel spiderman

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changbunnies · 8 months ago

Text

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 reader 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–" You blink at him, surprised to see him floundering to admit you're not actually gross to him; it's almost endearing how Seungmin fumbles with his words. 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 the 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, hugged him close and cuddled him tight. 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– I 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 only just 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 he 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. Maybe you want him to say that he’s just as fucking hopelessly in love with you as you are with Hyunjin, and that the love he feels for you 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. But 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 cautious, 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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fandoms-x-reader · 3 months ago

Text

Acts of Service

Requested By: @herdrops

Oneshot

Summary: Belphie does his best to speak your same love language. Belphegor x Shy! Reader Word Count: 2,093

No one in their right mind would say that you and Belphie had a good start to your relationship.

His heart had been filled with so much hatred towards humans. He didn’t want anything to do with them.

He believed that all humans should die. The same way his sister did.

Nightmares of Lilith’s death plagued Belphie as often as they plagued his twin brother. He didn’t have to choose between the two of them as Beel did, but he felt just as responsible for her death. He felt as though he could have done more to prevent her death.

And one of those things he believed he could have prevented was the love she felt for humans - one in particular.

Belphie was the first among his brothers to take an interest in humans. He had even gone down to the human world to observe them closer. And following in her big brother’s footsteps, Lilith did the same.

But her trips turned from ones that satisfied her curiosity to ones that held an intent to see someone in particular. A man that she had fallen in love with. A relationship that she kept hidden from everyone else.

But, then that man was struck with an incurable illness and Lilith stopped at nothing to save him, even giving him food from the Celestial Realm.

It was strictly forbidden for an angel to alter a human’s lifespan and so she was sentenced to death.

That’s how her brothers found out about her relationship with the human - with the announcement of her execution. And they refused to let it happen.

Their refusal to allow their sister to die is what caused the Celestial War and what caused them all to fall from grace. And she still died in the end.

Belphie blamed himself for not being able to save Lilith. Maybe if he had been a better brother she would have told him about her lover instead of keeping it a secret. Maybe if he hadn’t taken an interest in humans then neither would she have and she would have never been sentenced to death in the first place.

But, Belphie also blamed humans. He believed that they were at the root of all the bad that happened to his family. They were the reason he lost his baby sister.

So, when Diavolo announced that he would be bringing humans to the Devildom, of course Belphie put up a fight. He thought his brothers were crazy for not fighting alongside him.

When Belphie saw you for the first time, he had to admit he was a bit taken aback by how attractive you were. But, he couldn’t let himself think that way. He couldn’t let himself fall for the same trap that Lilith did.

He was only talking to you because he needed your help to escape the attic. You were a means to an end and once he escaped from the makeshift prison he was going to ensure that you met your end.

And he kept that promise that he made to himself.

He knew Lucifer would be angry that he killed you, but he didn’t expect to see his other brothers’ reactions. He didn’t expect them to look so scared and heartbroken. What was wrong with them? Did they not remember?

When Belphie saw that you were somehow still alive, he knew that there was something different about you. And there was no point in trying to attack you again. If it wasn’t for the fact that Diavolo would kill him before he got the chance, it was for the way that his twin brother begged him not to hurt you.

He knew he shouldn’t let himself be convinced to give you a chance. He knew how dangerous humans were. He knew how easily they could be loved. But he still let himself fall.

Nightmares of Lilith’s death shifted to nightmares of your death the more he got to know you.

It didn’t take long for him to realize what a terrible mistake he made. He wanted to make things right with you, to apologize until he was blue in the face.

But what were the right words to say to someone you killed?

Belphie wasn’t afraid that you wouldn’t forgive him. He had seen how kind and understanding you were with his brothers. Despite everything that had happened to you in the Devildom so far, you still wore a smile.

He was more afraid that you would forgive. He wanted you to, but he felt like he wasn’t worthy of it. At least not yet. Not before he had found a way to make it up to you.

But he was running out of time. Your year with them would be ending soon and he didn’t have nearly the same amount of time his brothers had to form a relationship with you.

So, he offered you the only thing he could think of to show you that he had changed - himself. More specifically, a pact with him.

A pact wasn’t something demons willingly handed out without asking for something in return. It gave you the power to control his every move. To manipulate him in any way you wished. It was something that made him more vulnerable to you than he had ever been in his life.

But he hoped that his vulnerability would be proof of how he trusted you. Of how you changed his mind and opened his heart to humans. At least, to one of them. One was a start, right?

He wanted to spend as much time as possible with you before you left. He would make sure to join in with the others as often as he could when they were hanging out with you. And he would also do everything in his power to steal you away.

It was hard for the brothers to complain when Belphie was the one who was taking you away from them because they knew how little time he had with you comparatively.

But there was only so much you could get to know about a person when you had a deadline. And that deadline came up way quicker than anyone expected.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of everyone saying your heartfelt goodbyes.

Belphie hugged you a few seconds longer than he probably should have, not wanting to let you go.

He didn’t know when he was going to see you next and there was still so much he wanted to say to you. So much he wanted to do with you.

It wasn’t until you came back to the Devildom that yours and Belphie’s relationship changed for the better.

Belphie knew that you were shy. He had witnessed you blushing at the smallest things or avoiding his gaze when he was trying to talk to you.

Each time you did it, you ended up looking more adorable in Belphie’s eyes.

He knew that your bashfulness sometimes prevented you from speaking what was on your mind.

He wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. Having Beel as a brother, Belphie learned that sometimes actions spoke louder than words.

And he picked up on every action you did.

At first, it was small things like making sure his favorite pillow was always clean or making sure the attic stayed at Belphie’s perfect temperature. But then there was the instance with Lucifer.

Belphie had overslept and was late to class. As a punishment, Lucifer gave him a large stack of homework to do as well as a list of chores. They all had to be done before Lucifer got back from his meeting or Belphie would be in big trouble.

Knowing that, the Avatar of Sloth still decided to fall asleep as soon as he got home.

He promised himself that it would be a quick nap. He really didn’t want to have to deal with Lucifer if he didn’t do what was asked of him.

But, when you went to check on Belphie, you saw that he was completely passed out. There was no chance of anyone waking him up in the near future.

And, if you did manage to wake him up, you should fear for your life because he wouldn’t be in a great mood having been awakened from such a peaceful slumber.

The last thing that you wanted was for Belphie to get in more trouble with Lucifer.

You understood that Belphie had a hard time controlling his sin just like all of the brothers. Lucifer never got in trouble for being prideful so why should Belphie get in trouble for being tired?

You took it upon yourself to help him out. You made sure to fill out the homework that was sitting on the desk - it was surprisingly easy considering it was all assignments you had already done.

And after that, you quickly moved to do the chore list. It wasn’t the best effort you’ve ever put into cleaning; but, you were focused on getting it all done rather than the quality of your work.

Belphie would never put extra work into the chores anyway so if you had, Lucifer would have known right away.

Belphie woke up to the sound of Lucifer closing the door to the House of Lamentation. A sound that was ingrained into each of the brother’s minds as if it was a bad omen.

He immediately panicked and scrambled to his feet. Lucifer was going to kill him.

Sure enough, the eldest opened the door moments later, and walked in with a scowl on his face, ready to unleash hell upon his youngest brother as he moved to examine the homework. Belphie took a step forward, his mind racing with excuses to give.

“Lucifer,” Belphie began to say but the eldest cut him off. “You finished all of your homework?” Lucifer asked, looking at Belphie suspiciously. Belphie’s eyes fell to the papers in Lucifer’s hands and noticed they were all filled out.

“And I saw that you got all of your chores done,” Lucifer added. Belphie was filled with confusion more than anything. He did? Lucifer was pleasantly surprised but didn’t dare say so.

He left Belphie alone in his room, for once not having anything to lecture him on.

Belphie sat down on his bed, trying to comprehend how everything managed to get done when all of his thoughts landed on you.

Belphie had never felt such gratitude in his life. And it also sparked something inside of him. A different feeling that he wasn’t sure he had ever felt before. He just couldn’t quite place his finger on what it was.

Belphie wanted to show his gratitude but he knew that too big of a gesture would scare you off. So he resorted to showing his affection the same way you did.

They were small acts that the two of you shared.

You would be his personal alarm clock, always making sure he was on time to school so that he didn’t get in trouble with Lucifer again.

You would make sure to bring him his favorite drinks with caffeine in them to keep him energized throughout the day.

And if he really felt like he couldn’t make it, you would help hide the fact that he was sleeping in class.

In return, whenever Belphie was spending time with you, he would do everything he could to show how much he wanted to be there.

If it was one of his brothers he would zone out without a care in the world. But he wanted to listen to what you were saying and pay attention to every word. And he wanted you to know that he felt that way.

If he had an extra burst of energy, he would do your chores for you, a reminder of the time that you saved him.

Your relationship was full of small acts and secret longing glances. You would admire him from afar and if he ever caught you, it would always bring a smile to his face.

When he was awake, he spent his time admiring you as well, and he wouldn’t be afraid if you noticed him, wanting to see the cute blush that you always got when you did catch him.

It wasn’t a grand proclamation of love. It was a hundred unspoken confessions under the guise of simple acts and sneaky looks of yearning.

It was a language that none of the other brothers would understand.

A dialect that was meant only for the two of you.

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solestixx · 6 months ago

Text

1- lukas matsson x reader

word count ≈ 6600

warning: smut and mid writing

____

“Ken- you know this isn’t my scene.” Your voice goes quiet, simply just peering at your brother, anxious for his reaction.

He’s been a bit of a pain in the ass lately, the whole family was a pain in your ass lately, but perhaps it was always this way. The Roy family created chaos and unnecessary drama, that was a given. It was something you tried to detach yourself from; the business, the craze, the constant chatter– it all drained you. From the moment you were born, it was as if your family was screaming from all sides whether it be Roman and Shiv fighting over shit all, or your dad blowing up in your faces.

You always knew that you didn’t fit into the puzzle. You were born a little bit too late, grew up with faint glances of your older siblings, and dismissed like the baby you were. Maybe that was the reason you never considered joining Waystar, or perhaps why a place was never offered.

Your dad was your dad, perpetually disappointed in you – while at the same time maintaining that you were his favourite. You all knew it was Shiv, but the very fact he insisted that it was you made you villain number one to your siblings.

So there you were, their little sister who was a fucking writer, twiddling with your ungroomed thumbs, waiting for your family to forget who you were. That being said, it was a surprise when you opened your email to find a very flashy invite to Kendall’s 40th. You didn’t think that your brother would want what he perceived as his Debbie Downer boring little sister at his grandiose douche fest.

“Come the fuck on, it’s my party, Bambi, cheer up, enjoy yourself for once,” Kendall says. “Come on, I’ll take you somewhere special.” As he’s about to leave, you stop him, placing a hand on his arm.

“Wait, Ken. I have a gift for you.” You hand him an envelope, “I didn’t want it getting lost in the mix.”

Kendall stops with his buzzing, which is probably coke-induced and takes the envelope from your hands. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” you sigh as you watch your brother tuck the envelope into his coat.

He quickly puts a hand on your shoulder before he starts to navigate you around, waving and fistbumping his friends walking by. As quickly as you had gained Kendall’s attention, it faded away from you, as he yelled over at his assistant who seemed new, but you weren’t around enough to know. “Yo! Comfrey, ship up my little sis to the treehouse.”

His assistant – Comfrey, who you knew had definitely been speed walking away from her boss before he hollered out at her – whipped her head towards the both of you. You were the odd couple, Kendall’s glazed over eyes and dopey smile mixed with your grimacing under his touch. “Coming!”

Kendall gives you a pat on the head– a move he often did in childhood, his eyes dead as always as he gives you a good-enough smirk, “You should avoid the other sibs, they’re strictly business right now – serious work only.”

You smile at his unconscious insinuation. You weren't a serious person to them. You weren’t anything you guessed, “Have fun, okay Ken? And try not to be a complete dick tonight,” you ask before Comfrey pulls me away and Kendall saunters off.

You watch your brother from the corner of your eyes, and quickly try to keep up with the bouncing ponytail of his young assistant. The hollowness in your chest that used to exist – that there would be ten years ago – had disappeared now, you were completely okay with the empty promises and empty phrases.

It’s what you grew up on. Raised in the top two floors of the highest buildings in New York, the Scottish highlands with your father’s forgotten castles, or in sprawling ranches in the middle of nowhere for tax purposes. At least that was the childhood you had with the Logan Roy experience.

After Uncle Ewan’s wife passed away, when you went to her funeral with your whole family, Dad decided that he’d leave his youngest with his brother to build your character. Your siblings were already almost in college and you were, well, the youngest and still complaining about multiplication and school field trips. So, from then on, you distanced yourself. Not entirely by your own volition, but every decision after was. And you prayed that every decision following would be as well.

As you try to keep pace with the taller woman, “So Comfrey, how’d you become Kendall’s assistant?”

The woman turns around for a second to get a glance at the youngest Roy, she presses her lips together before curtly responding, “I’m his PR rep.”

All you do is hum in understanding, she was a PR rep that was running around like a low-level worker bee trying to satiate her older brother. It was like all people in their lives.

You pass by the flashing lights, tall glass windows, and strange art installations, not so much admiring them, more like begging to just dissolve into the floor. To melt like the witch in the Wizard of Oz would be your opus, your ooey-gooey pile of person simply having a hard time leaching onto the rich person floors.

When you spot the all-too-familiar treehouse you wince. It seemed that Kendall’s childhood trauma manifested in an exuberant part of his fortieth birthday party. “This is Kendall’s little sister, she’s cool.” Comfrey motions the guards behind her, as you stand awkwardly – it looked like they needed visible confirmation you were you? It took them a second for their heads to look at your orientation.

While they make way for you, opening up the roped fence, you thank Comfrey, then watch her scatter away, and hurry away probably to clean up Kendall’s inevitable fuck-ups.

She was nice enough, you guessed; could be worse.

You wandered through the treehouse with no purpose, staring at the tree trunk columns that looked borderline tacky and its leaf-casted shadows on the walls. You weren’t alone in the room, no there was a boatload of Kendall’s rager hedge fund friends, or celebrities whose faces you remember enough to dart away from – but still, you were alone. You felt eyes on you, people knew that you were a Roy, but eyes don’t give you company.

The space was large enough to walk around for a few minutes, but eventually, you assumed you just looked out-of-place. Pacing around like a failed dracula, circling his already knowing victims. So you resigned yourself to a couch near a wall, praying that nobody approaches you. At least you wouldn’t be sneak-attacked from the back. That was your worst fucking nightmare – a hand on your back and a networking LinkedIn smiley techie.

Leaning into the couch’s thin leather you try to get comfortable. The lights were bright enough you hoped, to not ‘ruin the vibe’ with your phone’s obnoxiously bright screen. Staring at your home screen, you forget any work that you had to do – literally nothing of importance that would make you look like you were doing something. Yes, you were writing a screenplay right now, which would be a good thing to work on if you could concentrate in the noisy fucking room. So you just went on Candy Crush, your finger languidly swiping your high school iPhone wanting to shoot yourself.

You spent an adequate amount of time doing that, getting cozy enough to tuck your feet under your body and let your hair out from the bun it was in. It felt okay, you still wanted to go home, but you were waiting until at least ten percent of the crowd was gone so Kendall wouldn’t get prissy.

But you couldn’t keep the peace, of course, you couldn’t. Because there Kendall comes into the room, not looking for you, but for a man sitting on one of the benches in the middle of the party.

“There he is!” You internally shrink, like a deflated balloon as your brother approaches. You hide like you were habitually doing as a child, trying to dart off from where you were oh-so comfortable. You hear Kendall saying some other bullshit which you tune out in your panic, but as you’re set to leave he calls out your name.

“Bambs!” He turns to the man next to him, “This is my sister– she isn’t a vulture like the other ones, don't worry about that.” He looks back at you, then at the man again, “She’ll take care of you, they avoid her like a fucking plague.”

“Really nice, Ken,” you say, walking towards them reluctantly, resigning to sit next to the blonde man. He was tired-looking with hardly-noticeable but still visible rings underneath his eyes, a small smirk of interest on his face as he doesn’t shuffle to give you space, instead moving closer to you.

Kendall leaves, for a reason you are unsure of. You try to stare in his retreating direction as you feel the stranger’s hot eyes on you. You couldn’t read this guy, he seemed like a regular dude at first glance and to your relief he didn’t seem crazed in the eyes or serial-rapey.

“You’re the youngest one, aren’t you? The recluse?” he asks, his accent isn’t American, it was something Nordic – you hadn’t met many of them in your life.

You turn towards him, to be polite of course, although your body tries to twist awkwardly, making sure he isn’t too close, “Good use of deduction.” He’s attractive, vaguely familiar like everyone in the room, obviously important to your brother, but you still have no fucking clue who he is. “And you’re? One of my brother’s friends?”

He smirks, laying back on a column behind him, “Yeah, we’re best buddies, like peas and a pod.”

“No name?” He laughs, like he was in disbelief that you didn’t know who he was, “I like this, I’ll be your mystery man, hmm?” He leans further towards you, raising his eyebrows – the lack of space making your face hot.

You try to escape any feelings of chagrin, crossing your legs, and staring into his eyes which felt like it was more of his soul. Who was this fucking dude? “A mystery man in my childhood treehouse, you’re sounding like a pedophile to me…”

He nods as though he agrees, laughing, “You have a history in this, I assume, with your family.” Oh yes, Uncle Mo. “What do you do? The tabloids say… writer?”

A part of you feels insecure in your lack of knowledge about him. He knows your occupation, your name, and would probably be able to trace your life back to childhood through the internet, while you sat here like prey for his predator. All in his casual clothing and wolfish smile.

“Yes, some screenwriting, some things more authorial, enough to get by.”

It seemed like the idea of ‘getting by’ was amusing to him as he smiled when you said that. Almost as if he was in disbelief that a Roy would ever need to make enough to get by. Maybe he was older money, maybe he grew up in a big castle like you, a prince or something… your mother had always had people like that over when you were young. It was funny, the old aristocrats with their wine and screaming kids. No he wasn’t old money... his whole being read new. New money. New power.

“You dress like you write children’s books, like a sexy-librarian-kindergarten teacher – it’s hot, if I dare-say,” he says. You can feel him looking her up and down and she doesn’t know if you hate it or like it. You may be leaning to the latter with how lonely you’d been feeling for so long.

You almost roll your eyes, although your face heats up. How long has it been since someone somewhat complimented you? Sure they called your writing good, praised you in those magazines– no journals they called them, but nobody ever looked at you. Even if it was a half-insult.

You did dress conservatively, at least to control the narrative of yourself. Stemming mostly from when the paps took pictures up your skirt as a teenager. They weren’t even decent enough to wait until you were eighteen, the moment the vultures saw that you wore a short-enough skirt they chased you around trying to get a glimpse of the most elusive Roy sibling; the paps were constantly chasing a story, and for the duration of your childhood you were the most interesting part of the billion-piece puzzle belonging to the Roy family.

Without any response, he moves even closer, if that’s humanly possible – your arms pressing up against each other. He was warm, warmer than the stuffy room around the two of you, “Trying to insinuate something, mystery man?”

“Ja, maybe I am,” he says, before leaning close to your face. “Let’s go somewhere more private.” He offers you a hand to get up, which your body wills you to take, but your brain knows logically any man your brother wants to woo is a douche, yet you’d always think with your feelings. He pulls you through the treehouse, walking into more of a secluded room.

You feel people watching you, more than before, more than they would the youngest Roy, but his hand feels so warm in yours, and he was even more attractive standing up. Taller than your smaller stature – you were the shortest of your siblings along with the youngest, the baby. It felt nice walking next to him, it felt safe. But still, it felt almost dangerous.

You breathe out a thank god as the two of you get off of the wooden bench and your butt touches a soft surface again. It’s more secluded than your spot before but like every corner of the party, there were still people around you.

“Not a fan of crowds?” he asks, getting comfortable on the couch and leaning back as you feel his hand rise slowly on your thigh. Like he’s apprehensively confident.

“Is anyone really?” you ask him, he nods slowly, his eyes asking me to go on, “I don’t know why I’m here, maybe just feeling shitty about my family situation, you know? I don't spend much time with them… ever.” You eye the man as he intensely looks back at you – eyefucking you believe it’s called. Oh and his eyes are blue, you’d never noticed that before — remarkably they’re not empty, the soul was still there, at least right now. You have to admit that he’s hot, in this light even more so. His features affirm my suspicions of where he’s from– and as you stare at him even longer you can't quite remember when you’d ever seen a hotter man. “Do you still have no name?”

He grins, looking away, “You’ll know soon enough, won’t you? This is fun for now.”

“The only name I know you by is pedophile, and I don’t think you want people overhearing. Seems like we have eavesdroppers,” you glance over at the small groups of people around you. You assume that they’re small investors, that they probably know Kendall and whatever business he has with the mystery man.

“You’re right, my facial expressions plus my conversation are very relevant to the stock market and usually equals tanking.”

“You talking to me will probably tank it, whatever stock you’re talking about—“ you stop yourself from continuing, would Dad be mad that you were talking to him? “You’re not part of Kendall’s crusade, right? Like my father won’t try and assassinate me for speaking to you?”

It’s almost like he enjoys that notion as he laughs to himself, “Don’t worry about Kendall, your dad hiring a guy maybe, but right now I’m to be courted.” He gestures with his hands – which to you are strangely very animated, “You care about what your dad says, do you?”

You respond nonchalantly, though your hands squirm and you look to the ground, “It’s a constant fuck him, and at the same time I love you, Daddy, I guess. He was shit, is shit, but sometimes he’s not too bad.”

“You call him daddy?”

For the second time today, you feel yourself crawl into your skin, “Oh yeah, when we’re in bed together definitely.”

Mystery man almost giggles at your comment, and there’s something affable about that. He was constantly switching from this serious man to a very unserious one. There was some strange part of this that you liked, you liked the attention the way that he looked at you, the bubble he created around the two of you, the way his hand was increasingly inching.

You think back to the way this night started. You were quite desperate to leave, a bit dampened by the way Kendall accepted your gift, and guilty that you weren't at home taking care of your cat and working. Then you were delivered by this tall Viking man and you were uncomfortably comfortable with the way he made you feel.

“I kind of want to get drunk.”

“I have no qualms with that,” he responds, a grin on his face as you both get up and inch towards the bar, his hand slipping onto your back easily.

The time at the bar was spent in easy conversation, you stand against the wall, with him looming in front of you as you drink together. Him a beer and you a drink with a name you’re unsure of – hating yourself for so much enjoying the tang of the liquified poison.

“Why aren’t you part of your family’s business?”

The way he looks at you… you feel like there’s genuine interest, you look into his eyes and there’s a gleam that scares me. Was he playing with you? Was this a play for your family? You still have no clue who this man is. You let him get too close to yourself, hand on your waist – eyes on yours, too close for a stranger. But you just want to be happy, to feel like you exist again. Not a fly on the wall, the main course.

“You know,” you shrug your shoulders, taking another sip as he just looks at you with a weird facial thing that you don’t quite understand. Like he’s teasing you, but ever so slightly, begging you to spill – which you do. “I’m the baby, y’know – Bambi or whatever.”

He tilts his head back as he absorbs, “Bambi… I like that, you look like a Bambi – the deer right?”

“Yes the deer, they–” I hurriedly take another sip of my drink as I recount the story of my ubiquitous nickname, “Once Dad went hunting and brought me along, we spotted a deer and instead of uh– killing it I kind of ran towards it, while his gun was still aimed. He said that he was about to shoot me like I was a Bambi, he said I was so fast that he almost pulled the trigger while watching me through the scope.”

Mystery man looks at me with wide eyes, “Jesus fuck, that’s a shit thing to say. How old were you?”

“Uh maybe ten, by then my siblings were gone and he visited me where I lived with Uncle Ewan in Canada.”

“What a fucking prick.”

“Yeah.”

You stare at each other for a minute, him in front of you and you below him, you really like his eyes. You break it though, your head was starting to spin from the one drink and he was making it almost worse. “Come on, let’s go sit down, I’m gonna get stumbly.”

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you walk towards an empty space with a few chairs around a table and plop yourself down. Curling into yourself, you can just feel him situating himself next to you.

“You’re a lightweight, aren’t you? You look like one too,” he says, taking a swig of his still-almost-full beer.

You glare up at him as you start dozing off, “I’m gonna nap, you do you, pedophile.”

He guffaws, “Okay, no more pedophile jokes, the press hears and I’m done.”

“I wouldn’t know,” you mutter before tucking your head into your own shoulder.

“I have to ask you something before you nod off.” He seems almost genuine in his words as he furrows his eyebrows and leans towards your chair. You lift yourself ever so slightly showing that you’re listening. “We’ll fuck later right? Like guaranteed?”

You close your eyes again before you can roll them, although a tiny smile slips onto your face – you hope he won’t see it as you bury your face into the back of the lounge chair.

“I saw that grin, I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“Fuck off, asshole.”

“Don’t contradict yourself now.”

You shake your head in mock embarrassment as you go to sleep. Your head was throbbing a bit, and your heart was beating faster – but you realize that you’d forgotten the loud music, and the crowds of people around. You’d forgotten. You’d found solace after so many years looking for it, in the middle of a mock replica of your childhood treehouse.

And this sleep was peaceful for a while, but then a fucking earthquake rumbled you awake.

“What the fuck,” you grunted as you felt hands on your shoulders, your eyes bulge open and you see Roman above you. “Rome, leave me alone, you bitch.”

“Were you trying to seduce Matsson for dad?”

You just roll your eyes, not understanding in your incoherent state what the fuck your brother was talking about – per usual. Looking around you saw that mystery man was gone, and the party was still raging around you. And his name was Matsson? Strange name, but a little bit fitting.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about… why’d you even wake me up, miss me that bad?” you asked, clearly trying to antagonize him with your whiny voice.

Roman with all his pessimism and ass-holery deadpans at you, “Well I’m fuckin’ sorry, you totally missed the six foot tall Viking who was camped out beside your unconscious body?”

“Is that not the point of being unconscious, dumbass?”

“Did you fuck him, Bambi? Were you so fucking tired after fucking him that you had to take a big girl nap?”

“There’s something psychologically wrong with you.”

Roman sits squatting on the top of the chair as he pseudo-interrogates you, “Y’know he didn’t let me fucking wake you up, was that a power play or did you let him do you?”

“Rome, I have no idea who that man was, he just said he was your friend and Ken told me to keep an eye on him.” Half-lying was your thing, you guessed. Your life was full of half-lies, momentary omissions of details, ignoring parts of sentences so you seemed more innocent. That was the life of a youngest child out of five you guessed.

“And since when were you Kendall’s bitch?” “Since he invited me to something, unlike you.”

Roman completely skipped your comment before going off again, “Did he tell you anything, Matsson?”

“Oh yeah, he told me he fucking hates your guts,” you say with a smile, watching your brother getting riled up.

“I’m going to tell Dad that you fucked him if you don’t tell me the truth,” he threatens, it was fun being in this position. You’d so regularly in your childhood been put down by your older siblings, so it was interesting being the one to give it back to them. You finally understood the appeal. Ah, leverage.

You smile as you pretend to recount, a finger to your chin as you mockingly itch it, “Oh he told me that Dad’s an asshole and he has no interest in business with any of you creeps.”

“You’ve seriously been spending too much time with Uncle Looney? You know that right? You sound delusional, completely and utterly gone.”

As you sit up straighter trying to compose yourself, you eye Shiv coming over to where you and Roman sit (although he’s very much standing, pacing, like a lunatic), her hair a mess and her makeup smudged all over. She’d either just had mind blowing sex or something was seriously wrong with her.

You and your sister were strained to say the least. You wanted the idealized big sister who would braid your hair and make you up. The sister who would talk about boys with you and argue with you over stealing her clothes. You guessed Shiv more so wanted to prove herself to Dad – she’d always been his favourite. You were more of an afterthought to her. The kind of afterthought that made you do a double take when you remember that you’d buried it so long ago.

There wasn’t any sentimentality in the title of sister with the two of you. You were just another sibling, and probably her third favourite before Connor. But still, you love her, and you know in the deep recesses of her heart she loves you too. All the siblings love each other, although a strong belief for you was that there were certain dynamics that you were excluded from because of your age and difference in childhood.

“You do you, Roman. Just know that I’m hoping for your business with him to fail, just handing you my two cents.” Business was a strange concept to you, you were always pushed away from it as a child, leading you to know less than nothing about it. At one point you felt like you would go into it, but that too was ripped away from you. So right now, you just wanted to make Roman feel bad. Sure it was wrong to want to churn your brother into pieces, but it felt so good.

“I know you’re a fucking liar, so just like, sit with that, okay?”

“Whatever, Roman.”

Roman ignores your words calling out for Shiv. Shiv runs a finger through straight but frizzy hair before coming to give you a half-hug.

The hug was weird and a little bit detached, but it was something, and it made you feel not instantly uncomfortable, but almost happy. Happy to see your sister again a little bit. “Bambi, it’s been like two fucking years.”

It hadn’t been, but you agree. It felt like it.

“I didn’t know you were keeping track–” you try to say, but Roman quickly cuts you off. Biting off that Shiv was out dancing. Dancing was a human thing. You didn’t know your only sister was a human.

“Guys, I’m gonna go now, I’ll probably not be in touch, so yeah,” you try and gracefully leave as your siblings bicker about finessing or some shit.

They both nod non-committedly as you trot off observing Kendall and Connnor at the opposite poles of the room. You choose to not go off towards Kendall, who you knew probably already ruined his night with his overthinking or underthinking. Instead you go to Connor, probably your only kind brother, albeit the fact sometimes he was fucking lawful psychotic.

“Con, Con,” you call out, your small purse at your side as you push it around your body – you’d refused to give it to security earlier, citing personal reasons which they were too scared to deny. They probably assumed it was your period or something like that – you’d made that insinuation when they didn’t relent for your last name.

You see Connor’s coated body turn around as he returns your call, “Bambi! My favourite sister – you remember Willa?” Connor gestures to his arm candy, who didn’t seem too excited to meet you – or meet you again, but obviously faked it. She was very pretty, nearly to the point where she made you feel insecure. But then again, no hate for your brother, but she was with your brother. You were sure Connor had mentioned her in a phone call, but you two never really talked about those kinds of things. He was always ranting on about politics (you think you’re the only one who would listen, so he took advantage of that) or you would talk about your life – never about the company, or really how he was doing besides his ranch.

“Yes, at Shiv’s wedding, I believe?” She just nods, and you’re both just pretending to know when you last met. There was no recognition in her eyes, and you don’t think you’d ever interacted with her. It was a nice connection you’d had, a shared lie always brings people together.

“Ken, told me you were here, but I thought you’d be gone by now.” Connor pulls you into a hug before saying, “Have you been taking care of yourself, sis?”

“I’ve been doing okay, normally as always.” Noticing his cast, she asks, “What’s up with your arm, Con’?”

“Oh, I was doing an Irish jig as one does, and boom I slipped and it bent in all different directions,” he describes in a strangely vivid way. “I’m feeling better though, Willa helped me recover, right sweetheart?”

“Yep,” she nodded, a smile on her face as she bore her eyes into mine – uncomfortable? Very.

Connor was probably the only one of your siblings you regularly spoke to, yes it was by phone, and no you didn’t always enjoy it, but there was a beautiful normalcy to speaking on the phone with your brother. With Kendall or Roman it always turned into business– about Dad. With Shiv it was her ranting about some political thing, well maybe that was before she turned so Waystar-loco.

Connor was your normal brother.

“Have you heard of my recent presidential proclivities?” he asks, tilting his head as he looks at Willa for support – in which she enthusiastically nods her head.

Maybe he wasn’t exactly the most normal of brothers, but he was more normal than the brother who spoke about you having sex weirdly too much or the one who can’t stop fucking over your dad and snorting cocaine.

You nod, but before you hear a tumble and watch Roman bending over a kneeling Kendall. What a fucking dick. Kendall’s girlfriend, who you also didn’t recognize was helping him up, and you stood there with no intention to help or rush in, frozen to your spot.

Connor shouts out, “Everyone take it easy, okay?” as Roman maniacally laughs and Kendall helps himself up.

As Kendall walks past you, Connor, and Willa he grumbles, “Take your fucking coat off,” repeating it to Connor as he walks like a man scorned. Willa blocks Connor from Kendall trying to calm the younger brother down. You avert Kendall’s gaze, standing next to Willa blocking Connor who looks to the ground much like you.

Shiv seemingly walks away from the scene as well, but in the opposite direction from Kendall, and immediately after Willa and Connor walk arm in arm out, saying a quiet goodbye to you.

With one glance to Roman, who’s still muttering curses under his breath on the sofa chairs, you leave. You’d quickly sobered up, and it was time to face the darkness of New York. Walking out of the luxurious Manhattan skyscraper you peer at the artificially brightened roads and the strange silence of the backroads. Instead of taking an Uber or Taxi, you opt for the Subway. You didn’t take an allowance from your Dad like Connor did, you never inherited anything ever, and your last poetry anthology wasn’t lucrative enough to have casual taxi money. You were sure nothing would happen on the Subway, from experience you know that there would just be a few people throwing up and tired workers coming home from the night shift.

Before walking down into the station, you check your phone, one hand on the railing and the other carefully gripping onto your phone. Attention split both ways.

Unknown

Know who I am yet?

1 Missed Call from Unknown

Your heart skips a beat, an adrenaline rich positive-ending to the night beat skip.

Instead of heading inside, you turn around, sitting down on the top step of the stairs, hoping a coked up crypto-bro doesn’t push you down.

Pressing the call, a part of you hopes he doesn’t pick up, so you can return to normalcy, but the heart wants what the heart wants.

“Bambi?”

You groan, “I thought the story would stop you from calling me that.”

“Not because of the story, it suits you–” he pauses, the line going crackly as you hear him talk to someone, “You’ve left the party?”

“Yeah, walking home now.” “Walking? This is America, ja? You’re on a death mission.”

“It’s not too late, you know serial killers only come out after two in the morning.”

“I can send a car, hmm? You can come over here.”

“What does ‘over here’ mean? To a stranger’s home?”

“You promised me something, didn’t you?”

“Hmmmm, a promise? I don’t remember.”

“Send me your location, I’ll get my guy to get you.”

“Okay, I’ll send my location to a stranger just because he was nice to me at my brother’s party.”

“See you soon then.”

____

The drive was awkward to Matsson’s (you preferred mystery man to what seemingly sounded like a last name, although it might be a first, Europeans were in themselves a mystery as well). The driver was quiet, and the car was a rich person’s. It was a car you were all too familiar with, the car you drove in during your childhood, the same tinted windows and leather seats.

Same thing of riding up to the penthouse of a hotel – he was only here temporarily you surmised. You’d probably be a one-time thing.

When the elevator doors beep open and you’re in a hallway with one door, anxiety fills you up. What if this was a trap? If he was some sort of sexual pervert, or even worse an axe murderer with an even worse temper than anyone you could find on the New York streets?

But before you can even knock the door swings open and a hand pulls you in, “Fucking asshole,” you whisper as you feel his lips trace over yours, your breath in his.

He’s rough, and rushed, like he’s a man starved – of you.

As he starts tracing his fingers underneath your shirt you push his back, two hands on his chest as he kneels his head to meet yours. “What’s wrong?” “I don’t know your name,” you say, almost embarrassed that you hadn’t found it on your own, “Matsson? That’s your name.”

He doesn’t respond, just pulls you close to him, before picking you up into his arms. You restrain a squeal as you struggle in his arms. He navigates through the hallways, looking as though he was confused on the layout of his own homebase, he finds the bed – splaying you down and standing above you like an animal.

“You know, I refuse to orgasm without your name,” you insist. He moves closer and closer, uncharacteristically quiet as he pulls your shirt up laying a hand on your stomach, the other tracing over your soaked panties, slowly creeping towards your sensitive skin.

He’s strangely gentle with it, until he pulls your panties to the side, spreading open your legs as he buries his face into your pussy. You move your two legs onto his shoulders, as plays with your nipples – languid twisting and faint touches that leave you just wanting more.

You let out a yelp as you feel his tongue move into you, like a fucking shark he dives into your clit as he watches you for your reaction. You know you look like a mess, breathless and desperate. “Please, please–” you moan, desperate for his tongue, for his touch, his everything.

“Your pussy’s so good, baby– fucking heaven,” he whispers into where his head lay between your thighs. As he blows gently on it, you are wholly exposed and cold, you start squirming. Your thighs start pressing around his head, trying to push him further, which seemed to turn him on even more. Your legs start to shake as your orgasm builds up and builds up, you feel like screaming from the bliss of it, his attack on your pussy is like God reigning down on earth. “Refuse to orgasm, hmm? Want me to stop?”

You shake your head as he continues, “Please, keep going, keep going—” He listens to you, beginning to rub your clit as the feeling of everything continues to crash down on you

“Come baby, come.” He keeps on licking you up, every fucking crevasse.

Your orgasm came hard and quick, with a groan and a twitch your eyes rolled over as you released his head from in between your thighs, and as quickly as he got there, he climbed on top of you – his larger body engulfing yours as he hurriedly kisses you.

“I want to inside me,” you say into his ear, you could feel him from underneath his pants as he grabs your ass, groaning into you as you palm him.

“Take off your fucking clothes,” he orders, as you do it, you take off the loose t-shirt you’d been wearing to Kendall’s party off slowly, you can feel him staring at your tits, and a part of you loves it. Loves the attention you get from him. As you take off your pants from where they are bunched up from your ankles, and then the greenish-blue granny panties you wear, you watch him take his suede pants and then his boxers off. Oh god, you feel yourself thinking as you stare at him.

He picks you up as he brings his length into your entrance, rubbing it on your clit. He keeps going, relentless before he surprises you and slips it in, tilting your head towards him so he could watch you as he fucked you.

You hear him groan as he starts with slow thrusts, he would push in and then wait five seconds before slowly sliding out— making sure you felt every inch of him. He was too big and you felt so full, with every time he pulled out you felt like five years were taken from your life span, that time had slowed down too much. You fucking needed him.

Of course he starts going fast, rough. There were no thoughts in your mind as you arched against him, and moaned in his mouth as he kissed you. Deeply and raw, like he had everything to lose and you would disappear in a heartbeat.

Pinning your hands above your head, he continues with his pace, passionately and without bore– “You’re so good for me, I just want to be inside you all the time,” he says a grin on his face as he watches your face before glancing down looking at his dick pound into you.

He presses kisses to your throat as he whispers, “My name’s Lukas, Lukas Matsson–” strangely enough hearing his name sends you off the edge as you moan out unintelligibly, overstimulated as he keeps on going, getting more and more erratic.

Not long after, he pumps into you a few more times before completely spilling inside of you, collapsing on top of you, not leaving your warmth as he buries himself deeper.

You don’t say anything afterwards, you let him lay on top of you as he stays inside of you all the same. It feels like time doesn’t pass as he wraps his arms around you, “Stay the night?” he asks, all you do is nod.

You lay in silence for a few more seconds before you tell him, “I’m on birth control, by the way, pretty fucking risky to cum inside me without asking though.”

“I wouldn’t be mad at a little me running around if I could fuck you again.”

Not saying anything, you press a kiss to his neck before tucking yourself closer into his body– finding sleep comes to you when so often it fails you.

#lukas matsson #succession #lukas matsson x reader #lukas matsson x roy!reader #fem reader #smut #first time writing smut #to be continued #kendall roy #succession fanfic #succession x reader #will post on ao3 when more chapters

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alicerosejensen · 2 years ago

Text

ha ha ha! Here's another portion of Papa Leon's headcanons. I hope to write more sad text, but so far only headcanons. This idea has been in my head for almost 10 days.

warning: Leon is a single dad; Loss of wife/girlfriend (S/O) due to zombie bite; The child is female; Leon's daughter is implied to be immune to viruses.

- When Leon found out that he would become a father, he was surprised, excited and very worried.

- He had long lost hope of starting his own family, but he was glad that he met you after China.

- You understood that the child meant the end of your relationship, but you also wanted a family, so having gathered all your will into a fist, you announced that you intended to leave the baby. Plus, you knew he still had feelings for Ada.

- It was painful and scary for you to admit it to him, but you had the strength to tell him about everything that had accumulated in your soul.

- Despite the fact that two people are involved in the conception, Leon does not have to bother with the duties of fatherhood. You yourself are raising YOUR son or daughter.

- This is what you said to him without even letting him utter a word.

- But Leon also wanted this child.

- There was a quarrel between you, the reason for which Leon did not understand. Yes, it will be hard, but he is ready to take responsibility for little Kennedy and whatever you think he loved you very much.

- There could be no question of any separation!Leon wants you to keep the baby, and if you mentioned abortion, he might flare up.

- So you were preparing to become parents together.

- During your pregnancy, Leon was very afraid that something could happen to you. He said the only weight you can carry is your baby. All the time while he was not distracted by work, he helped you get through the difficult time of pregnancy and read various literature himself. He also took some cute pictures of you talking and stroking your belly. He will definitely print them out later.

- You furnished the children's room, bought a crib and a lot of things. You were waiting for the doctor on the ultrasound to tell you the gender of the child.

- And when you did find out, you made Leon a kind of gift.

- The work of a government agent is dangerous and full of surprises, so no one knew about you and your child except for a narrow circle of people. Everything was strictly classified.

- But returning home from work, Leon heard you say that there was a present waiting for him on the table.

- A paper bag with a girly jumpsuit and a photo of an ultrasound with the caption on the back: Baby girl says hello to busy dad!

- Girl! Leon had already decided that she needed extra protection from future bullies.

- Everything was too wonderful that it began to seem like a sweet dream: he will soon become a father who will have the most beautiful daughter in the world. You will give him the family that Leon dreamed of for so long and was deprived of.

- You said there was nothing to worry about. There is still a whole month before the birth and that Leon will still have time to return to his girls, if he does not delay with his super secret mission.

- But Leon should have been worried.

- Because just two days after his departure, another outbreak occurred in the city that B.S.A.A and D.S.O did not have time to prevent. And the world is again flooded with zombies.

- You didn't even feel the first two bites when an infected shop visitor jumped on you while buying water. You pushed the zombie away by tearing it away from your hand, but he immediately knocked you to the floor, biting into your shoulder.

- By some miracle you managed to fight back. The only thing you were worried about was your daughter, so you struggled to your feet, holding your big belly, and got to the car to go home.

-People yelled and pounced on each other, biting into the throats and devouring the flesh. The sounds of an ambulance siren, police, and then shots were heard all over the streets ... You just wanted to get straight home along this crazy road, but you felt a sharp pain in the lower abdomen.

- Should I go straight to the hospital? You felt your seat getting wet, but despite the pain, blood and madness reigning, you still went to the original goal: home. The place where Leon will look for you first.

- You didn't close the door behind you. Tried but grappled with a distraught neighbor, who was also not averse to feasting on your flesh. You had no weapons, you were torn in half by hellish pain and your child... an innocent child should not die before being born. A loud volley of gunfire deafened you as Mrs. Jones stopped attacking you.

- And thick still warm blood stained your face and dress.

- It wasn't Leon. Ada.

- Seeing a lot of bites on you, including on your thigh, there was only one way out: put another bullet in the forehead, but you were pregnant. Ada wanted to find Leon, but found her (former?) friend's pregnant girlfriend.

- Leon would never forgive her for yours and the death of his unborn daughter. But damn it, you've been bitten at least three times already! Ada aimed the cannon and immediately lowered it when she heard pleas for help.

- Reluctantly, she helped you give birth, hoping that the child did not mutate into some kind of monster. But the room was filled with the usual cry of a child.

- But you already succumbed to infection: swollen black veins; pale gray skin and one eye began to become cloudy.

- "Do not tell anyone I ask you ..." - you croaked in a voice that was not your own, smiling terribly when Ada held your daughter. She quickly handed over the umbilical cord. - "Tell Leon she was born after my infection. She's not sick, I know."

- Ada wrapped the baby in swaddling clothes and reached for her gun again. The hand didn't shake when you asked her to kill you until the conversion happened. Ada fired, and you blood from your head splashed on the wall after which you fell to the floor forming a crimson puddle under you. The girl was screaming at the top of her lungs, but what she definitely didn't want was to mess with a newborn baby during an outbreak of the virus.

- But she couldn't leave the baby just like that, despite the fact that the original plan was to give Leon some information.

- All right, Kennedy girl, you better not turn into one of the critters.

- Ada took her away, making something like a sling for convenient carrying of the child, so that in parallel it was possible to defend.

- Maybe Ada should have waited for Leon at home, but it was too dangerous, especially since more infected people ran in somewhere on the ground floor.

- So she escaped through the second floor.

- Taking the penknife with which you fought off the zombies. Before the shooting, you asked Ada to give the knife to her daughter.

- "Plans have changed Leon" - Ada's voice came from Leon's earpiece. - "Meet me somewhere else and I have a little gift for you."

- But Leon's priority was his beloved with a child. What was the horror when he saw that the doors of the house were open wide and the moans of zombies could be heard from there. Leon dealt with them and together with his partner (it was Helena) went up to the second floor. But you weren't in the bedroom or in the bathroom. However, when Helena opened another room and went deep into it, she froze in place, losing all words, looking at your body.

- Helena noticed a few bites, but still your death was not a conversion, but a bullet in the head. Besides, it was clear from the huge traces of blood on your thighs that you had recently given birth. She barely forced her voice to be louder to call Leon, and when he immediately entered the room, the weapon fell out of his hands.

- "She's infected. Was infected…" - Leon wasn't listening. He picked you up in his arms, pressing your dead body to his chest. Now that he couldn't protect his family, he didn't care about anything. His beloved and his daughter, but Helena assured that the baby had clearly been born, because the umbilical cord was cut, and the baby was nowhere to be seen. - "We need to find the baby. Ada said you were supposed to meet at your house, but what if she took your baby?"

- "And put a bullet in his mother's head," Helena did not voice it out loud.

- With difficulty, but Helena gave her partner a goal to move forward despite all his heartbreak. Tears were streaming down Leon's cheeks and all he wanted was to put a bullet in himself. He. Didn't. Protect. You. This house was supposed to be your island of peace and love in which your daughter grew up, but it turned into another piece of hell.

- But he can still save his daughter!

- Therefore, when he met Ada at an abandoned station, his stomach dropped from the baby's crying. Ada was sitting on some old stool, almost like a mother, clutching someone else's child to her. However, without further ado, as soon as Leon broke into something similar to a rest room, she immediately said that he should drop the gun if he did not want to frighten his daughter even more.

- "Miss Kennedy herself" - Leon immediately took his daughter in his arms. Ada immediately realized that Leon knew what had happened at his house. "I'm sorry about what happened to her mother."

-There was an option to lie or tell the truth, given that this child's life depended on it. But Leon didn't seem to be listening anymore, but his partner was…

- "Relax," - but Helena remained tense. "She was born after her mother was bitten. I'm sorry, but I was too busy with the baby to protect your S/O. Of course, her mother did not feed her with her milk. I'm going to have to send you a bill for baby food and babysitting, Leon."

- In the end, Ada left as if nothing had happened, and Leon had to transfer the child to safe hands for the duration of the mission, but his thoughts were still confused.

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- He had the idea to put his daughter in good hands. So that D/N has a full-fledged family, and not a loser father who could not protect her mother.

- D.S.O got into the situation and gave him a good vacation so that Leon could fix everything and find a kindergarten or a babysitter for his daughter. Actually, Hannigan, on her own initiative, offered several good options.

- If it wasn't for D/N, Leon would have preferred to get drunk in some bar, mourning his beloved, but he had to mess with diapers, baby food and put the baby to bed. And he coped abominably.

- Stomach cramps, newborn stubble with which he had no idea what to do… Leon was driven crazy by constant screams and he hardly slept until Claire came to the rescue.

- Being a free nanny and a good slap on the head for a dumb father, she took it upon herself to calm the D/N, and, to Leon's surprise, the child stopped crying pretty quickly.

- Claire sent Leon to a well-deserved rest and she cleaned up the house and took care of the baby. Leon found them in the evening in the bathtub where the baby was bathing, while Claire was shaking a rattle in front of her, talking funny.

- "She has your eyes. Did you know that?. And she'll grow up with pretty blonde hair."

- He smiled wearily as he watched D/N squeeze Claire's finger with a small hand.

- "I'm thinking of putting her in foster care."

-"You… WHAT?! - if not for the presence of the child, the younger Redfield would have cursed Kennedy with various obscenities. - "You're crazy! While some are risking their lives (a reference to Ethan - I adore him) for the sake of their children, you are like the last coward running away from the duty that has fallen on you! I know it's hard for you! Y/N died, but it's not your fault! No one is to blame for this, especially D/N, and you want to deprive her of her last loved one! Don't you dare do that, Leon! Or I'll put your stupid head in the toilet!

- Despite all the arguments that Claire considered as stupid as possible, she was really ready to dip Kennedy in the toilet, but she remembered about the baby and wrapped the girl in a towel, taking her to the room for later care: baby cream, tummy massage, a clean diaper for sleeping. Claire changed into a D/N ironed bodysuit and gently began rocking in her arms while she was preparing baby formula. Leon watched her actions, once again making sure that he was a shitty father.

- But is it right to give up your child by giving it to strangers? Claire made him think about his decision until he committed a fatal stupidity that he would regret for the rest of his life.

- And Leon has really put that decision aside for now. Thanks to Claire's advice, he began to cope better with the situation and fully blossomed when his baby girl smiled at him for the first time. Maybe she wanted to show her comfort in this way, but Leon literally shone like the brightest star.

- Actually, the older D/N got, the easier it was for him.

- Cartoons really save Papa Leon.

- Leon knows how to tie complicated knots and would also cope with the first pigtails.

- Claire still helps him a lot and they often go for walks in the park together. Being a single father is difficult but real.

- Alas, Claire also devotes herself to TerraSave, so Leon's daughter often stays with a well-tested nanny (Hannigan and Leon took care of this together). Yes, it's a big expense, but Leon has no problems with money.

- Leon buys his baby coloring books, various books, pencils and markers so that she does not get too sad in his absence.

- The new house is littered with all possible toys. D/N loved dinosaurs the most. Leon thought it was a temporary hobby, but all the dolls were quickly forgotten when his baby had an allosaurus given to Claire.

- Now baby Kennedy has a love only for all possible kinds of dinosaurs. Even bed linen and pajamas.

-"This is all temporary," - Leon told himself, handing his daughter a recently purchased toy. This time Velociraptor.

- Good. At least the girl is busy watching some kind of documentary about dinosaurs while her dad calmly cooks dinner.

- And Leon had to learn to cook, because no one else does it for him (maybe sometimes Claire).

- Maybe Leon doesn't always manage to be a good dad, but he tries for the sake of his baby and really scolds himself for thinking that he once wanted to give her to another family.

- Leon is definitely not getting married and D/N will be his only child. He will have one-night stands, but it will never happen at his house. The only woman he really loved was you, but now he only has a daughter left.

- Claire is still only his friend (I only see them as friends, sorry). A friend who helped him get up from his knees when he was depressed by your death and wanted to give up the child.

- Actually, she visits the Kennedy house quite often and can be considered to some extent a mom for D/N.

- Leon does not know that his daughter was born when you were already bitten three times, which is why doctors tell him about the high ESR in the blood D/N. No one understands what's going on because the girl behaves quite normally and feels pretty good.

- Some kind of anomaly. Maybe these indicators persist due to frequent colds?

- Because gradually they decrease, however, never to the norm.

- Frequent trips to the doctor have already become a routine with which he has come to terms. In the end, without noticing that something was wrong with his daughter, these tests were halved.

- When D/N grows up, it will be much easier for him to cope. The Kennedy family cleans the house together, or the Pumpkin (as Leon calls it) helps to cook (chop carrots or stir soup in a saucepan, add a little seasoning, but everything is under strict control). In addition, Leon tries to teach her to be independent, but it is difficult for him to do this because he constantly wants to spoil her so that she is happier.

- Leon keeps all drawings and children's crafts in a special cabinet in his desk. However, there are a couple of drawings on the refrigerator on a magnet.

- He can't always attend children's events where his daughter performs, but he tries to make up for lost time when he returns home.

- Sometimes he falls asleep with his daughter watching TV. When D/N falls asleep, he will take her to bed without waking her up. And be sure to turn on the night light (with a dinosaur).

- Leon doesn't mind if the girl runs to him at night, because she had a terrible dream. Leon knows all about nightmares, so let her stay close and tell some kind stories so that she calms down and falls asleep again.

- Someday D/N will want to know something about his mom, but for Leon this is always a closed topic. He won't tell anything except that you were a wonderful person and loved her very much.

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And now the teenage period (D/N 13 years old) .

- The topic of mom is forbidden.

- Perhaps due to the frequent absence of her father, the girl has a bit of a rebellious character, but she does nothing to cause problems for her dad.

- On her birthday, D/N found a small box under the door. Thinking that it was Dad who sent the gift, he and Claire quickly started unpacking, but inside there was a rather elegant folding knife that looked very expensive. And a short note: "Your mom asked me to give you this. I think you're old enough for such a gift. Happy birthday, young Miss Kennedy."

- Claire turned pale when she saw a familiar object and a strange note. Leon would never send that. But the girl was thrilled to get something that had to do with her mother.

- Leon did not comment on the gift at all, but he recognized the handwriting on the note. He didn't want to spoil his daughter's mood, especially since he was late for her birthday, but the next questions began to annoy him.

-"Who was she? Also a secret agent? Did she save the world from bad guys? Look what an awesome knife! My mom must have been really cool! Maybe her partner gave me a gift?"

- Leon tried not to get angry, but the fucking knife still made him flare up. He quarreled with his daughter and immediately got a scolding from Claire when D/N ran to room. He understood that you can't be angry with a child who just wants to know something about his mother, but Leon never let go of that situation.

- He definitely needs to apologize to his daughter.

- As an additional gift, Leon, after a long conversation with his pumpkin, will eventually give her your photo. One of the few that he was able to keep.

- And ask not to play with a knife because it's not a toy.

- I think Leon's daughter likes to play guitar and her favorite song is "Wayfaring stranger"

- Therefore, a new guitar (exactly the one she wanted for so long) will be a gift from her beloved dad.

- Dinosaurs are still the most beloved creatures, why can we have a pet dinosaur?

- But in order to finally win his daughter's heart, he takes her to the dinosaur museum on a day off. Of course they will take Claire with them - she has long been an unspoken member of their family.

- And in the evening, the three of them will sit down to watch her favorite movie with a delicious dinner, which they will order from the restaurant at home.

- D/N is more like you - her mother-but her eyes and hair color are from her father.

- You knew that she would grow up beautiful and become even more beautiful with growing up. Before you died, you were sorry that you would never see it.

- Leon is calm when his daughter likes famous guys from these series and movies. However, the cardboard king from some movie that stands next to the bed began to confuse him

- "Come on Leon! Many girls love sugary boys." - Claire laughed, finding it funny. - "Wait until she starts going on real dates."

- Well he has a DSO database for that.

- In fact, Leon finds it soothing when his daughter is in her room playing the guitar while trying to sing at the same time.

- She still has bad blood tests with elevated ESR and leukocytosis, and Leon really doesn't understand what's going on, given that there is no malaise.

- Leon's weapon is always kept in a safe under a combination lock, however, when he forgot it one day on his desk after returning home, D/N wanted to support him in his hands admiring how cool it is but at the same time heavy.

- Of course Leon was scared when he saw his daughter with a gun in her hands and ordered her to put it back immediately.

-"Let me shoot!" - she said when she watched her father put things in the safe. - "I want to be like these guys with guns from movies. There was one Yakuza who had such an awesome gun with a pattern! Da-ad?"

- "No!"

- The password could not be peeped. And the birthday didn't come up either. But D/N got a scolding when she climbed into her father's office without permission, trying to get his gun.

- The restless child does not want to shoot herself or her neighbors at all, she just watches too many militants, believing that shootings are cool.

- Leon doesn't comment on it at all, considering what's going on at his job. But when pumpkin says that she will work with him after she finishes school, she can't stand this long hard look from her father.

- Maybe Leon really should teach her how to shoot and use a knife, but the thought that someday she might need it scares him. It's easier for Leon to keep his daughter in the safest place away from all this virus-parasitological shit.

- But still, after much persuasion, it brings her to the shooting range and even shows you how to hold and shoot correctly.

- Oh, it's a delight! She hit the target a couple of times and already considers herself the best shooter. But Papa Leon still praises her even for these two successful shots.

- "If the apocalypse happens, then I can watch your back!. I will make such a drawing in the form of a poster where we are next to each other against the background of a green world freed from people".

- Leon can't help but smile. This blonde-haired miracle is the only thing that really makes him happy. Therefore, even talking about the apocalypse does not cause anything but laughter.

- And if there's another outbreak, Leon will be Joel saving his Ellie. Even if him have to go against the government.

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I'm a little sick, I have a lot of debts at the same time, but I like the topic of "father-daughter" relationships so much… Fuck, I also passed the "Last of Us again", and God, like the first one, I'm crying at the moment where Joel saves Ellie (I think he did the right thing and no one will dissuade me from this)

Now I literally want to write and read about "Leon and his daughter". Because this guy would do anything to protect his little pumpkin.

I will definitely make a couple more posts on this topic later. Maybe even a full-fledged fan fiction with an already invented name for his daughter (her name is Lara, yeah).

I love everyone who reads this and he likes it 💖

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #papa leon #leon scott kennedy x reader #Leon Scott kennedy x daughter

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