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astraystayyh · 10 months

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In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now.

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks.

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words.

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will.

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen.

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice.

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all."

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused.

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it."

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right.

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up.

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out.

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue.

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous."

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face.

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time."

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem."

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world.

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently.

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice.

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much.

Bonus

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

AITA for coming to dinner with my ex and his new GF uninvited?

This situation is long and messy, so I'll try to include the relevant info only. I (F32) broke up with my long time partner (M33) right before COVID hit. We stayed in the same house during lockdown and continued to live together after lockdown was lifted, because we generally get along and we had a child (F11) to raise together. Over the last 3 years we've been roommates and co-parents and that's it.

One day he was supposed to take our daughter to buy new school clothes, and she came back 10 minutes later in tears. She said they were on their way to the store when his new GF called, and he drove her back home and dropped her off so he could go spend time with her. He even asked our daughter to lie to me for him, but she was tired of covering for him (implying she'd been lying for him for a while now).

When he got home we had a massive argument. I didn't care if he dated other girls, I cared that for some reason he thought he had to sneak around, and it made him act like a jerk to me and our daughter. I told him if he had been a man about this new girl and just introduced me to her then maybe we could have all been friends, but instead he had to act like a horny teenager. It ended with him moving out to live with his parents.

A couple days later he called and apologized. He said he hoped it wasn't too late for him to do things right, and he hopes we can all be friends. I was hopeful that we could finally co-parent in peace for the sake of our child.

This is where I may be TA: I have always been close with my ex's parents, to the point where even after we broke up I would be invited over regularly for dinner. They said even if I wasn't their son's partner I'm still their grandchild's mother, and that makes me family.

So one day when my daughter texts me while at my ex's parent's house and invites me to dinner because they're having my favorite meal, I don't think twice about coming over even though my ex and his GF I've never met now live there. I figured everyone had to be okay with it, since my daughter was inviting me.

I end up having dinner with my ex's parents and daughter, but my ex only comes upstairs to grab two plates of food and goes back downstairs. I ask my ex's mom why and she says his GF doesn't feel well today. Whatever, I think. She's just sick and I'll meet her another day. I have a perfectly pleasant dinner with my ex in-laws, help clean up, and make a promise to bring them a coconut cake (ex father-in-law's favorite) and take my daughter home.

Later my ex blows up my phone with texts and calls, saying it was so weird and rude that I came over for dinner uninvited. That I made his new GF uncomfortable, and like she wasn't welcome there. And that I caused trouble in their relationship because she assumes we must still be in love for me to come over and see his parents out of the blue like that, because "exes don't do that. it's creepy."

I had a talk with my daughter and asked her calmly if she had asked everyone else if it was ok if I come over before she texted me, and she sheepishly said she didn't know she had to ask since it had never been a problem before. (I didn't tell her about her dad's meltdown at me, or tell her dad that she's the one who invited me. She's a child and shouldn't be involved)

Instead I just told him I'm sorry me dropping by made things awkward, but I thought he wanted us all to be friends from now on and I figured this was a good place to start being friends. He said there was no way she'd want to be my friend now that I made her feel uncomfortable in her own home.

It wasn't my intention to make anyone uncomfortable, but I admit I'd be perturbed if he brought this woman into MY home and I had not even been warned first. So AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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pucksandpower · 4 days

Text

Party Girl

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Logan Sargeant x Hunt!Reader

Summary: Logan tries to save a notorious party girl from herself (or in which going wild runs in the Hunt family)

Warnings: illicit substances and peer-pressure

The nightclub’s bass thumps through Logan’s chest as the trio approaches the entrance. Lando and Oscar turn to him with matching grins.

“You ready for this, mate?” Lando asks.

Logan eyes the mass of people spilling out onto the sidewalk. “Is this really a good idea?”

“Of course!” Oscar claps him on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be brilliant. Especially with you keeping an eye on the hostess.”

“Me?” Logan’s brow furrows.

Lando nods. “You’re our designated driver tonight, so you’ll be the soberest one here. We need you to keep Y/N from going too far off the rails.”

“Why me though? I barely know her.”

“Exactly!” Oscar exclaims. “She doesn’t really know you either, so she’ll actually listen instead of brushing you off like she does with the rest of us.”

Logan frowns. “I don’t know, guys ...”

“Oh, come on!” Lando wheedles. “You’ve heard the stories about James Hunt. Partying is in her DNA. We just need to make sure she doesn’t take after her grandad too much tonight.”

With a sigh, Logan relents. “Alright, fine. I’ll do my best to keep her out of trouble.”

The two grin and clap him on the back before leading the way inside. The throbbing music and flashing lights assault Logan’s senses as they enter. He scans the crowd, quickly spotting a vaguely familiar mane of untamed waves.

You’re laughing uproariously at something one of your friends said, drink sloshing precariously in your hand. Your cheeks are already flushed, eyes bright with intoxication and mirth. A pang of concern flutters in Logan’s chest — Lando and Oscar weren’t kidding about keeping an eye on you.

Making his way through the press of bodies, Logan sidles up next to you. You glance over with a brilliant smile.

“Heyyy, you made it!”

“Yeah, uh, hi,” Logan replies, suddenly feeling awkward. “Your friends invited me to, you know, keep things under control.”

You giggle. “Under control? What fun is that?”

Taking a swig of your drink, you spin away to dance with your friends, moving your hips enticingly. Logan swallows hard, trying not to stare. This is going to be harder than he thought.

The evening blurs by in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. Wherever you go, Logan follows at a respectful distance. He rebuffs anyone trying to offer you illicit substances and intervenes whenever your friends get too rowdy.

A few times you shoot him annoyed glares, but he just shrugs apologetically. He’s only doing what Lando and Oscar asked. Besides, he reasons, better to have you mad at him than in real danger.

As the hour grows later, your movements become more uncoordinated, laughter louder and words more slurred. Logan hovers closer, concern mounting.

“Ohhh, Logannnnn,” you croon, draping yourself over him. “You’re sooo stuffy. Live a little!”

He gently extracts himself from your embrace. “I think you’ve lived enough for tonight, Y/N.”

Pouting, you turn away petulantly. Logan watches as a few of your more unscrupulous friends surround you with sly grins. Alarm spikes through him when he sees one of them press something into your palm.

“Hey!” Pushing forward, he places himself between you and them. “Back off. She’s not interested.”

You blink at him owlishly while your friends sneer.

“Who’re you to decide for her, pretty boy?”

“Someone who actually cares if she’s okay.” Logan holds his ground.

With a drunken giggle, you lean against his back. “S’ok, Logieee. Lemme have some fun!”

“No, Y/N.” He spins to face you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “That stuff is bad news. You don’t want it, trust me.”

Your eyes are glazed, but you search his face like you’re trying to understand. One of your friends makes another attempt to press the little baggie into your hand. Without thinking, Logan bats it away. It goes flying across the club, spilling white powder everywhere.

“Dude!” Your friend shouts, outraged.

Logan doesn’t give them a chance to react further. Scooping you up in his arms, he starts carrying you away from the crowd. You’re tiny and warm against his chest, still giggling faintly.

“Mmm, Logan ... gonna getcha in trouble ...”

“I’ll take my chances,” he mutters.

Pushing his way through the throngs of people, Logan finally breaks free into the cool night air. He sets you on your feet, but keeps a steadying hand on your waist when you sway unsteadily.

Up close like this, he can make out the flushed skin across your nose, the flecks of light reflecting in your warm eyes. For a moment you just gaze at each other, the sounds of the party muffled behind the club’s doors.

Then your brow furrows. “Why’d ya stop me? I was jus’ havin’ fun.”

Logan shakes his head slowly. “That kind of fun isn’t good for you, Y/N. Your friends, they ... they weren’t looking out for your best interests back there.”

“You don’ even know me!” You protest, pushing away from him on unsteady feet.

Without thinking, Logan catches your hands in his. They’re so tiny, delicate, yet topped with nails sharp enough to take an eye out. Just like the rest of you — an enigmatic mix of fragile beauty and uncompromising tenacity.

“You’re right, I don’t really know you,” he admits. “But I know that you’re strong. Braver and tougher than anyone gives you credit for. And you don’t need that junk to be the life of the party.”

For a long moment, you simply stare at him, eyes wide. Then, slowly, you nod. A few stray tendrils of hair fall across your face and Logan’s fingers itch to brush them back. He tamps down the urge.

“M’sorry I made a scene back there,” you mumble, averting your gaze.

“Hey.” Logan ducks his head to catch your eye again. “Don’t be sorry. Those people, they ...” He shakes his head in disgust. “You deserve better friends than that.”

Pink dusts your cheeks as the corners of your mouth tick upwards. “You’re sweet, Logan. A real gentleman.”

“I just call it like I see it,” he replies with a shrug.

You laugh softly then, a warm, rich sound that sends tingles down Logan’s spine. When you speak again, your voice is clearer, more sober.

“I guess tonight got a little out of hand. Sometimes I go too far trying to live up to the reputation of my last name. It’s stupid, I know.”

“Hey, we all have things we’re trying to prove.” Logan squeezes your hands reassuringly. “But you don’t have to prove anything to me, Y/N. I can already see how amazing you are.”

For a beat, you simply stare at him, eyes shining. Then, surging up on your tiptoes, you throw your arms around his neck and kiss him hard.

Logan freezes for half a second before melting into the embrace, pulling you flush against him. His fingers tangle in your hair as he kisses you back with everything he has.

When you finally break apart, breathless and flushed, Logan rests his forehead against yours.

“Wow,” is all he can think to say.

You grin impishly up at him. “Now there’s a party I wouldn’t mind getting carried away at.”

Logan can’t help but laugh. Tucking you into his side, he presses a kiss to your temple. “Let’s get out of here. I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

***

Logan jolts awake to the sound of insistent pounding on his hotel room door. Squinting against the bright sunlight filtering through the curtains, he rubs the sleep from his eyes and shuffles to answer it.

“About damn time!” Lando’s voice greets him as soon as the door opens. “Do you know how long we’ve been stuck outside?”

Oscar shoulders past Logan into the room. “Yeah, mate. Abandoning your friends at the club? Not cool.”

Logan’s brow furrows in confusion until the previous night’s events come trickling back. The party, the near miss with the drugs, getting you safely away ...

His gaze drifts to the rumpled bed across the room where you’re just starting to stir, sheets tangled around your legs. A soft smile tugs at Logan’s lips as he watches you blink owlishly.

“Earth to Logan?” Lando waves a hand in front of his face. “You still with us?”

“What? Yeah, sorry.” Logan drags his attention back to the two drivers. “Look, I can explain about last night ...”

“No need to explain why you ditched us,” Oscar interjects with a suggestive wink toward the bed. “We can figure that part out for ourselves.”

You sit upright then, the sheets pooling around your waist as you rub your eyes. “Whas’ goin’ on?”

“Well, well!” Lando exclaims with a salacious grin. “If it isn’t the life of the party herself! Get up to any ... extracurriculars last night?”

Heat creeps up the back of Logan’s neck as you glance between the three of them in sleepy bewilderment. A strangled laugh escapes Oscar’s lips as the realization hits both of them. You and Logan lock eyes from across the room, equally mortified.

“No, wait! It’s not what it looks like!” Logan splutters.

Lando claps a hand on his shoulder with a pitying look. “It’s alright, mate. You don’t have to be ashamed about finally getting some action.”

“But I didn’t!” Logan insists, running a flustered hand through his hair. “Y/N, tell them!”

Untangling yourself from the sheets, you slide off the bed — giving everyone an eyeful of the fact that you’re only wearing one of Logan’s hoodies. His breath catches in his throat because damn if you don’t look incredible drowning in his clothes.

Your bare feet pad across the carpet until you’re standing before him, fingers playing with the worn cotton hem. “He’s right, you two. We didn’t ... you know.”

Hurt flashes across Logan’s face before he can squelch it back down. Right, of course you wouldn’t want that after all the lines he crossed last night. You’d been drunk and vulnerable and now you were regretting everything, including the–

“We kissed! But it doesn’t have to mean anything,” he blurts out, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “I got Y/N out of a bad situation and we may have, uh, gotten a little carried away in the heat of the moment. But she was drunk and it won’t happen again, I swear.”

An awkward silence falls over the room, broken only by Lando’s snort of laughter. “No rizz, this one.”

Logan’s jaw clenches. He knew they’d tease him about it, but he’s a grown man and he doesn’t need to take it from the likes of–

“Logan.”

Your voice is soft but it cuts through the embarrassment swirling in his mind. You take his face gently in your hands and he’s helpless but to meet your warm gaze.

“What if I want it to mean something?”

The air whooshes out of him in a surprised breath. His hands find your waist of their own accord like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Y-You do?”

Behind you, Oscar groans. “God, he’s so hopeless.”

“I think it’s sweet!” Lando retorts. “Innocent, you know? Like a puppy getting all flustered.”

Logan blocks them out, his whole world narrowing to the amused, almost fond smile playing across your lips. You nod, leaning further into his embrace.

“I meant what I said last night, Logan. You’re the sweetest, most caring guy I’ve ever met. And I like you.” Your nose wrinkles adorably. “A lot, actually.”

He blinks rapidly, certain his heart is about to burst out of his chest. “Y/N, I ... I like you too. So much.”

Laughing that rich, warm laugh of yours, you loop your arms around his neck and rise up on your tiptoes. Logan meets you halfway, melting into the heated press of your lips against his.

Catcalls and wolf-whistles finally penetrate the happy bubble enveloping you both. You break the kiss with a breathless giggle, burrowing your face into the crook of Logan’s neck.

“Oi, lovebirds!” Oscar hollers. “Get a room!”

“Yeah, we’ve already got one!” Logan shoots back, surprising himself with the retort. He winks cheekily at you and you positively beam in response, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Alright, that’s our cue!” Lando steers Oscar toward the door. “Don’t do anything we wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!”

The door slams behind them, leaving you and Logan alone in blissful quiet. His arms tighten around your waist, keeping you pressed flush against him. For a few heartbeats, you simply drink each other in, basking in the unfamiliar but not unwelcome feelings bubbling up.

Eventually you break the spell with a featherlight brush of your lips against the corner of Logan’s mouth. “So, was that too forward? I shouldn’t have just sprung that on you ...”

“No!” He rushes to reassure you. “God, no. I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

You poke his chest lightly, eyes dancing with mirth. “Not even racing?”

Logan chuckles, tucking a stray curl behind your ear. “Okay, maybe one other thing. But you’re definitely in the top two.”

Winding your arms back around his neck, you arch one brow mischievously. “Only top two? I’ll have to work on that ...”

His breath catches in his throat at the playful promise in your tone. “I, uh ... I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

As you lean in to kiss him again, Logan can’t help but silently thank Lando and Oscar for dragging him to that party. True, the night didn’t go exactly as expected. But he wound up with the greatest prize of all — you, here in his arms, carefree and happy and perfect in every way.

Like the gentleman his mama raised him to be, Logan vows silently to cherish every moment with you. After all, only a fool would look a gift horse like you in the mouth.

***

Adrenaline still thrums through Logan’s veins as he exits parc fermé, helmet tucked under his arm. His cheeks ache from the wide grin stretched across his face — a double points finish was exactly what Williams needed.

Alex falls into step beside him, equally elated after their impressive showing on the track today. They did good, really good. Logan can’t wait to celebrate with the whole team.

As they approach the Williams garage, a familiar head of hair catches Logan’s eye. You’re standing front and center, bouncing on the balls of your feet with poorly contained excitement. A large bakery box is clutched in your hands, the elaborate logo on the lid leaving little doubt as to its expensive contents.

Logan’s grin widens impossibly further. Of course you’d be here with treats in tow, always ready to turn any occasion into a party. His heart swells with affection just watching you eagerly await his and Alex’s return.

The rest of the team notice their arrival and erupt into cheers, crowding around to clap the drivers on the back with jubilant congratulations. You hang back, though your whole face is lit up with unabashed pride.

“Nice one out there, lads!” An engineer calls over the ruckus.

“About time we had a good points haul,” Another mechanic agrees.

Logan waves off the compliments with a bashful duck of his head. The team has been through so much in recent seasons — they deserve this moment more than he does.

“Alright, alright! Give the boys some space to breathe!” A familiar voice rings out.

You shove your way through the throngs of people, bounding right up to Logan with a brilliant grin. He has a split second to brace himself before you launch into his arms, nearly sending him toppling backward with the force of your enthusiasm.

“You were brilliant!” You exclaim, planting an exuberant kiss on his cheek that has him blushing furiously. “Both of you! I’m so proud!”

Alex chuckles fondly as you untangle yourself from Logan just enough to loop an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “We couldn’t have done it without the team’s hard work. You should be proud of them.”

“Oh, I am!” You turn your beaming smile on the rest of the crew. “Which is why I brought a little celebratory treat!”

Holding up the bakery box with a waggle of your brows, you peel back the lid to reveal a massively decadent-looking chocolate cake. It’s one of the most elaborate confections Logan has ever laid eyes on.

A reverent hush falls over the assembled group as they all lean in to get a better look. The air is suddenly thick with the rich scent of cocoa and buttercream frosting.

“Blimey, Y/N! That must’ve set you back a pretty penny!” Alex exclaims.

You wave him off with a casual flap of your hand. “Oh, please! You don’t even want to know how many races I’ve brought an expensive cake to just in case. I’m just glad I finally got to use this one!”

A ripple of laughter rolls through the crew at that. Logan shakes his head in fond exasperation, equal parts endeared and unsurprised by your extravagant gesture.

When your gaze lands on him again, warmth blooms in his chest at the open adoration shining in your eyes. You look at him like he’s the most impressive thing you’ve ever seen, not some lucky racer who simply played a tiny part in today’s success.

Liquid courage from the race still thrumming through his veins, Logan acts on impulse. Plucking the cake box deftly from your grip, he passes it off to a bewildered Alex before cupping your face in his hands and kissing you soundly.

A startled squeak quickly melts into a pleased hum as you melt against him, looping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Logan pours every ounce of his pride and affection for you into the heated press of his lips, uncaring of the captive audience for once.

Hoots and hollers finally break through the rosy haze fogging Logan’s mind. He breaks the kiss with a breathless chuckle, thumbs brushing over the delightfully flushed apples of your cheeks.

“Get a room, you two!” Alex hollers with a roll of his eyes.

The rest of the crew quickly devolves into jokes and ribbing at your expense, but Logan couldn’t care less. With you smiling up at him like he hung the moon, the rest of the world simply falls away.

“You taste like chocolate,” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours.

The impish grin you shoot him in return makes his heart stutter. “Well, it wouldn’t be a proper party without dessert.”

An arm slings around Logan’s shoulders, disrupting the little bubble you’ve found yourselves cocooned in. He startles, having completely forgotten about the dozens of other people still milling about.

“Well isn’t this just precious!” Gaetan, Logan’s race engineer, gives him an affectionate shake. “Young love blossoming right here in the garage!”

Red blooms high on Logan’s cheeks even as your melodic giggles wash over him. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.

“We’re not that young.”

“Could’ve fooled me!” Gaetan retorts with a bark of laughter. “You two have more spark than the rest of the kids around here combined.”

Your hand finds Logan’s, tangling your fingers together as you lean bodily into his side. For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to bask in the happiness surrounding him. It’s like floating, secure in the knowledge that you’ll always be right here to keep him grounded.

“You know,” you begin softly, batting your lashes up at Logan. “This might just be my new favorite party.”

A surprised huff of laughter escapes him. But really, he shouldn’t be so shocked. From the moment he met you, it was clear you had an unparalleled zest for life. You see the joy and potential for a good time in every single occasion. It’s one of the many, many things Logan loves about you.

“Your favorite, huh?” He bends to press his forehead to yours, drinking in your radiant smile. “I’ll remember this one, then.”

Because no matter how many parties, races, or adventures you two share moving forward, Logan vows to cherish each and every one with you by his side. After all, every single moment is worth celebrating when you get to spend it with the person you love most.

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evie-sturns · 3 months

Text

𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 - 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩 𝙎𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙤𝙡𝙤

summary: you and matt had previously dated for a few years until him and his brothers grew famous, where matt became arrogant and self centered. fast foward to to present, a couple years later. you have moved on from matt completly until you run into him at an influencer party, what will unfold when you approach him? will you two rekindle or will the wall stay strong between you two.

contains: angst, arguing, swearing, fluff, making out.

—---------------└─── °∘❉∘° ───┘--------———

(2 years ago)

i lay on the couch next to matt, my head resting on his shoulder as the tv rambles. hes invested in his phone, typing every few seconds.

hes been filming videos with his brothers, chris and nick, for the past year or two, and they've just hit 3 million subscribers.

matt clears his throat before moving my head off him, "i gotta talk to you, yeah?"

my eyebrows furrow, i look over at matt who has an unreadable expression on his face. I nod slowly with a hum, "i don't know how to say this, but uh-... nick chris and i have decided to move to l.a with laura."

what?

"what?" i instantly reply, my stomach drops to my knees.

"gotta chase them dreams." he shrugs casually, picking up his phone.

anger starts to bubble inside of me, why the fuck is he being so nonchalant about moving across the whole country? what am i gonna do, just be left here and forgotten about?

"what the hell matt!" i say, raising my voice and slamming the phone out of his hand, he throws his hands up defensively. "are you being fucking serious right now?" i yell, "calm down bro?" he mumbles, picking his phone back up.

i stay silent, waiting for matt to speak, or atleast a solution. he just stays silent, looking around the room. "matt, what am i gonna do." i sigh, trying to contain myself.

"uh.. not sure?" matt leans back on the couch. "like you can come with if you want but i won't really.." he pauses for a few seconds

"have time for you..? i mean we're staying in lauras apartment which doesnt have enough space anyway but you could always sleep on the couch or something."

i scoff, "so this is it?" tears start to roll down my cheeks. "if you can't handle my fame and me moving then thats not my problem." he runs a hand through his hair before standing up.

without another word I'm upstairs and packing my suitcase, I'm leaving.

(Current time)

ever since matt and i's messy breakup ive been moving around alot, i spent the first month or so living with my parents, where i started content creating on various platforms. i would be lying if i said i didn't get popular, over the past 2 years ive gained a few million followers.

a year ago today i moved to l.a, where i've been thriving.

9:38pm

"y/n come on!" i hear yolanda, my roomate, shout from downstairs, today i've been invited to a party for influencers, i think. i run downstairs in my baby pink stiletto heels. yolanda is wearing a long shimmering black dress with a large slit up to the mid thigh. "hottie" i tease as i walk past her.

"shush" she replys with a wide grin, i walk outside to find our uber waiting patiently "yoyo!" i yell back to her as she scrambles around to find her purse.

i climb into the uber, "my bad, my friends coming now."

yolanda comes running outside, swinging open the door to the uber and crawling over me. i laugh slightly at her, she glares at me while applying lip gloss.

"you okay?" i ask her, "just nervous, its weird being a plus one to a party where i know famous people will be." she replies with a breath.

"you'll be okay gorg, i have no idea whos even going so we'll just stay together hm?" i say comfortingly, watching the lively streets of l.a outside the window.

the uber comes to a stop outside a large beachside mansion, i give him a quick thankyou before grabbing yolandas hand and approaching the house. the blaring music is audible from outside the house.

we walk up the stairs together, our heels clicking in sync on the marble steps. the doors to the house are wide open, the first person i see when i come inside makes my heart drop.

christopher sturniolo

my breath hitches in my throat, theres thankfully no sight of matt, i mean hes never really been one for partys. i feel physically sick when me and chris lock eyes, i guess i look different since the last time i saw him, 2 years ago.

I haven't really thought about matt since i moved to l.a, the last person i wouldve expected to see here is his triplet brothers.

i shoot yolanda a look, she looks equally has disturbed as me.

i decide to keep navigating through the various bunches of people, i look back and yolandas gone, flirting with some random instagram male model. i scoff with a smile.

i turn my body back around, an audible gasp escapes my mouth as matt sturniolo stands infront of me,

alone.

he smiles awkwardly with a wave, he looks me up and down while he clutches the cup in his hand so tight his knuckles go white. "you look different." matt says, his voice shaking from nerves

"charming." i roll my eyes.

"no!- no i meant in a good way, i mean in a platonic way, but you look different, sorry-.. how are ya doing.." matt rambles, stammering over every word.

a small smile forms on my face, which instantly drops when i remember the events of what happened the last time i saw him. "i've been doing really good actually." i reply, nodding my head slowly.

"yeah, i saw !thats awesome you got selected for that peoples choice awa-rds..." matt says before stopping himself, i laugh slightly.

has he been stalking me? that got announced an hour ago.

"thanks matt, how have you been?" i ask, he takes a small breath "i've been good, yeah.." matt says, he clearly doesn't think the world revolves around him like how he did 2 years ago.

another silence fills the air between us, but he breaks it. "do you wanna come with me?" matt asks abruptly, my eyebrows furrow "sure?"

he reaches out a hand subtly, i take it.

he guides us through hundreds of people, yolanda eyes me down with her jaw slack, i shrug my shoulders with a smile back at her. the night hair hits my revealed skin as matt lets my hand go slowly.

"should we go sit on the sand?" i ask quietly while we walk side by side on the footpath.

10:12pm

matt and i have been walking side by the shoreline for a few minutes, catching up on the past 2 years of no contact

"wait so you're at 6 million?" i laugh in shock, he shakes his head with a smile "shut up!!"

"no like, congratulations matt thats really awesome."

he shrugs it off with a playful nudge to my shoulder,

the past 30 minutes or so neither of us have brought up the last time we spoke, our last interaction, the final fight. i think we both don't want to ruin what we have going on right now.

a silence forms as the ripple waves crash onto the shore, my palms are sweating from the warmth from the night. "wanna go sit up there? in the dunes?" matt asks, pointing up the beach. "oh-..oh yeah!" i agree chirpily, snapping out of my somewhat 'trance'

he leads us away from the water up into the sand dunes, the mound of sand and grass behind us acting as privacy. he flops down onto his back, laying down on the sand. I lay down close beside him, our legs touching against eachother.

"i want to talk to you about what happened that night." i blurt out softly, just from the plain moonlight i can see matts cheeks are a deep maroon. he nods "yeah." with a shaky sigh.

"i was an asshole, like proper crazy." he says in a serious tone.

"honest to god i think the fame was making me go insane, i thought i was so much better than.. everyone? i never shouldve told you like that, or moved in general" he rambles, guilt painted in his voice.

"matt, moving was best for you." i cut him off, but he instantly snaps back

"i don't think it was? i miss you so much."

i sit up, the loose sand falling off my back "and i never really moved on, i'm so grateful i found you tonight 'cause the guilt has been eating away at me, and im so sorry, i am so fucking sorry." matt mumbles slightly.

i nod understandably "i think we needed the break, i can see you've changed a lot, for the better."

matt sits up too, sand grains scattered in his brunette locks as his tongue pokes out quickly to wet his lips. his eyes stare into mine before he reaches out a hand to grab my jaw, right under my ear.

"can I kiss you?"

i nod frantically "yeah-of course"

matt leans in, his body shifting on the sand while the calm waves crash onto the shoreline.

his lips meet mine, a distant familiar feeling that i hate to admit but ive really missed, even though ive forced myself not to.

his tongue asks for enterance, which i quickly allow. his tongue slips into my mouth,

i move my hair to one side before hooking one leg over his thigh, moving my body to straddle him while keeping our lips connected.

our kiss turns from gentle, to desperate. craving what we've missed for the past 2 years.

after a well-needed few minutes, we finally pull away from each other to catch our breath. panting fills the air before he pulls me into a tight hug his arms moving over my back as i stay seated on his lap. leaning onto his chest.

"i think we should retry, everything." he matt says into my hair as i rest my chin over his shoulder

"gotta agree with you on that one matthew." i laugh, joy overpowering me.

"matt there you fucking are!" a familiar voice yells from a few meters away. i look up, breaking matt and i's hug.

chris and nick are standing side by side with a shocked expression on their face. "holy shit!" nick laughs,

nick used to be one of my closest friends, but after the breakup with matt and i we were forced apart, i think after his brothers caught me ontop of matt it gave them the all clear to interact with me again.

i climb off of matts lap, running across the sand towards nick before leaping into his arms, the long fabric of my dress drowning nick.

"someone please fill me in" chris says cluelessly.

matt walks over to us 3, nick puts me down "uh yeah, we are retrying stuff after a chat, a really good one actually." he says, scratching the back of his head.

"oh my god thank you y/n, matt has not shut up about you for the past 2 years holy fuck." chris says after a dramatic gasp.

-------------

this took so long to write i hope u guys really like it!

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo imagine #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x you #chris x reader #nicolas sturniolo

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marvelsmylife · 3 months

Text

Can you feel my heart breaking? Part two

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Plot: five months after Azriel discoveres you are his mate, the night court pays the day court a visit. What happens when Azriel discovers another male is making his intentions known that he wants to court you?

A/n I’m contemplating writing a part three (including smut) let me know if you guys are interested in it.

Part One

Acotar Masterlist

Send in Requests

It took everyone in the inner circle to physically stop Azriel from going after you when you left for the day court. After revealing that you already knew Azriel was your mate, Rhysand explained that you asked for some space. Azriel listened in horror as Rhysand detailed what you endured for the past year and a half. He couldn’t believe you bottled up all the pain you felt while you watched him love someone else.

Poor Elain started apologizing for being part of the reason you left and swore nothing ever happened between her and Azriel. Rhysand reassured her that you held no ill will towards her and you left to clear your head but that you would be back in a few months.

Rhysand begged Azriel to give you space while you process your emotions. “Rhys, please. I need to see her. I need to tell her that I know that I am her mate and that I want this mating bond.”

“No,” Rhysand said firmly: “You are also prohibited from traveling to the day court until she lets me know she’s ready”.

Azriel didn’t give up though, he sent out his spies into the day court and they gave him updates on your well-being. Every night they would report the same thing: you were fine, you were safe, and you were still staying with Helion despite your family living nearby. Over time, they would report that you were smiling more and having pleasant conversations with the people around the villages you would visit.

That brought a smile to the spymaster's face. He remembered how kind you were to everyone who crossed your path; even towards people who didn’t deserve your kindness.

One day though, one of Azriel’s spies informed him that there was a new general in the day court who had taken a liking towards you. They informed Azriel that this new general is actively seeking you out and gifting you small presents to win you over.

Panic started to take over Azriel’s body at the news. It never crossed his mind that someone else would try to court you while you were away.

Azriel pleaded with Rhysand to visit the day court so he could see you. He told him what his spies had informed him and he was worried you might accept a courtship. Rhysand wanted to respect your wishes but he couldn’t bear to see his brother's desperate state anymore “ok, ok I’ll contact Helion and request if we can visit. But let me make one thing clear” Rhysand warned “You better hope whatever you have plan works out. I need y/n back home with us”.

Helion accepts Rhysand’s requests and extends an invitation to Rhysand and his inner circle to stay with him.

Azriel was on edge when they finally arrived at the day court and waited for you to come down and greet them. While they waited for you, Helion thanked Rhysand for sending you to him because in his words “you brought so much happiness to him and his people”.

Rhysand responded with “That’s why we love her so much. She’s like our own personal ball of sunshine. I don’t know what we would do without her.”

“You would survive” you teased and caught everyone’s attention “but it’s nice to know I make that much of an impact on you guys”.

Time seemed to stop for Azriel as he watched you make your way downstairs. That was until the unnamed general appeared by your side and whispered something in your ear.

Jealousy surged through Azriel as he watched you playfully roll your eyes and giggle at whatever the general had said. “Control your anger,” Rhysand warned: “Do not jeopardize our alliance with the day court over his comments. Y/n has no interests in the general”.

Right at that moment you looked over at Azriel and sent him a concerning look. You were about to ask if something was wrong when Helion announced that it was time for dinner and guided everyone into the dining area.

Throughout dinner, Azriel couldn’t help but glance over at you. A smile appeared on his face as he took in your beauty. He couldn’t believe he completely overlooked you and was pining after the wrong female. He wanted to desperately tell you in front of everyone, especially in front of the general that had also been eye fucking you throughout dinner that he knew you were his mate.

He didn’t though. He knew it would be foolish to announce it in front of everyone and probably cause you to be embarrassed. He needed to do it when you were alone.

Fortunately for him, that opportunity came sooner than he thought. “I’ll be right back, I need to use the washroom” you excused yourself and left the table. Azriel took the opportunity and excused himself as well before trailing after you.

Azriel patiently waited outside for you. His shadows went wild with excitement when you finally exited and quickly darted towards you. “Oh hello,” you squealed at the shadows running up and down your body.

“They missed you” Azriel explained and got your attention.

“Azriel” you whispered “what are you doing here? Why aren’t you eating with everyone else?”

“I needed to talk to you in private” Azriel replied and started making you feel nervous about what he might want to talk about. “Why didn’t you tell me you were my mate?” Azriel asked with desperation in his hazel eyes.

The question took you by surprise but you decided to answer it honestly: “Because you were in love with Elain,” you replied: “You were so in love that you questioned the cauldron's decision to make Lucien Elain's mate.” Azriel felt his heart stop at your explanation. He didn’t know that anyone heard his argument with Rhysand months ago about him thinking the cauldron made a mistake. “I thought if you found out I was your mate you would think the cauldron definitely made a mistake and that I was intended to be with Lucien and you with Elain. I just want you to be happy and if that means being with Elain then you have my blessing. But if you do proceed with courting her, I will be permanently moving to the day court.” You tried your hardest not to cry before continuing: “I can’t bear to be under the same roof when it happens”.

Sadness rippled through the bond and Azriel hated the fact that he was the reason behind it. “I don’t want Elain; I want you” Azriel pleaded. “I can’t live another second without you by my side.”

“It’s just the mating bond” you replied “It’ll fade away over time.”

“No it won’t” Azriel got closer and cupped your face “Do you need me to get on my knees for you? I’ll drop this instant if it means you forgive my actions. Listen, you don’t have to accept the mating bond right now if you don’t want to, but please allow me to show you how much I love you.”

Every part of you wanted to say no, you just got in a good place mentally and you didn’t want to have it destroyed again. Another part of you felt the desperation through the bond and wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around Azriel. Letting out a shaky breath, you whispered: “Please don’t break my heart.”

Azriel took that as an invitation to lean in and kiss you. You felt yourself become one with Azriel as he deepened the kiss and started moving his hands up and down your body: “I’ll guard it with my life” Azriel replied; his lips hovering over your own “Thank you for trusting me with it”.

Just as Azriel was about to slip his hands under your dress, a loud cough caused you to pull away. Azriel looked over his shoulder and spotted the general glaring at the two of you: “My high lord is wondering if you will be joining us for dessert or are you two going to fuck instead.”

“Tell Helion that we will not be joining you guys,” you replied before looking up at Azriel: “Tell him that my mate and I are going to be in my room for the rest of the night.”

Azriel gave the general a wicked grin at your response before being pulled upstairs to your room.

@willowpains

#azriel imagine #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar imagine #acotar x reader

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lxkeee · 3 months

Note

I absolutely love your writing!! And don't get me wrong, I love Lucifer, but they way you write Azreal and the Eveningstar family lives in my head 24/7. The AU where reader ends up with Azrael is my absolute fav to come back to, along with the main series it stemmed from. I'd love to see more content of him in general. I've been driving myself crazy imaging a part 2 to the AU with Lucifer wanting to reconnect with reader and having this family unit with them, only to realize that he lost them completely when he fell and that they've moved one and found happiness without him. Very hurt/no comfort for Luci while reader finally experiences a returned unconditional love with Azrael.

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE

Pairing: Azrael Eveningstar x Seraphim Angel! Reader

Genre: angst

Warnings: hurt and no comfort for our short king

Notes: an alternate universe where [y/n]'s family is complete, Xavier doesn't have any daddy issues nor has any hatred for Charlie as he doesn't give any crap about her and Lucifer (well, he did at some point but forgave them), where it was simply the wrong person and wrong time. Where it was Azrael who is endgame. This isn't canon to the fanfic storyline, simply an au.

Additional notes: I LOVE IT WHEN READERS WANT MORE AZRAEL CONTENT OMG

CH. 1 | CH. 4 | NAVIGATION

They finally have done it. Hazbin Hotel is finally booming in business, many sinners are finally checking in and giving redemption a try.

Though, Lucifer cannot help but be nervous. Heaven or specifically, the Seven Virtues requested a meeting with him and his daughter and along with Vaggie, they wanted to talk about the hotel and also about his punishment.

Why wouldn't he be nervous? The last time he was in a meeting with them, they absolutely crushed his hopes and dreams and to add to the fact that his first wife, now ex-wife is part of the organization.

Lucifer doesn't know how to handle it, he's afraid of how he'll act once he sees her and the fact that Charlie told him about his son that he left her with. Absolute guilt.

He misses her, he misses [y/n] so much and he regrets how he treated her. He neglected her, abandoned her and their son. Even after all these years, his heart still longed for her.

“Dad? You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly, holding her bag. Currently, they are waiting for the portal to heaven to open for their meeting tomorrow. She noticed that her dad seems to be in deep thought, she knows what's plaguing his mind—meeting his ex-wife again and seeing his son for the first time. She too is nervous about what will happen when that moment comes.

“The portal seems to be taking a long time to open.” Angel Dust snickered and Vaggie elbowed him on the side, somehow both Alastor, Niffty, and Angel Dust wanted to join them. Leaving the hotel underneath [f/n]'s care, another overlord who joined the hotel.

“You're really complaining when you're not even invited,” Vaggie muttered before turning to look at Alastor, “I am even surprised that even you also decided to join us, how come?” Vaggie deadpans at Alastor and the taller demon just laugh, radio static filling the air, “Myyy~! I am merely curious what the heavenly realms looked like. Nothing more~” He grins, quite mischievously. Vaggie narrowed her eyes at the radio demon.

Lucifer sighs and shakes his head and gives Charlie a small reassuring smile, “I'll be fine, I'm just a little... Nervous.” he admits softly and Charlie nodded in understanding, placing a hand over her father's shoulder. She understands him, she too is nervous in seeing her half brother. Last time she saw him, he was giving her judgmental looks.

“I'm sure we'll be fine... Maybe this will be your chance to reconnect with them?” Charlie suggested, hopeful that somehow the two families can find a neutral area to get along with each other. After all, she always wanted an older sibling or siblings in general. She hopes that she and Xavier can get along.

Lucifer smiled, he too is hoping that this meeting will be fruitful and won't go so horribly.

A golden portal opened in front of them and they looked at each other, nodding as they finally took a step inside.

Heaven, is very bright compared to hell. Too much white, gold, and blues.

The crew looked at Lucifer, urging him to take the lead as he did come from here. Lucifer sighs, despite the nervousness, he decides to approach the pearly white gates of heaven. Standing in front of the counter of Saint Peter. The others are following him.

“Welcome to heaven, can I get your names please?” Saint Peter asked, opening his book. Lucifer sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“Lucifer... Morningstar...” Lucifer says, almost a whisper. Cringing slightly as he watched the Saint slam his book close, “Oh... Fuck!” Saint Peter exclaimed with a nervous chuckle.

“Um... I wasn't aware that you will be visiting today...” the Saint said with an awkward chuckle, Angel Dust just smirked while Alastor just grins, clearly interested in what heaven has to offer.

Charlie stood nervously beside Lucifer, unsure what to do next.

“Saint Peter, please grant them access. They are here for an important meeting.” a young masculine voice says, surprising the hell citizens. Turning to look at the gate and their eyes widened to see an almost exact replica of Lucifer—except for the eyes and height.

Lucifer's eyes widened and Charlie can be seen to become more nervous as the young man approached their group.

Saint Peter eyes widened, not expecting to see the young general today. “R-right. Please, come in.. heaven officially welcomes you.” Saint Peter says, opening the gates wider for the group.

Lucifer couldn't think, his ears ringing as he looked at the newcomer. Lucifer examined the angel's appearance—an almost exact replica of him and of course, he knows those eyes very well. The same [e/c] eyes his ex-wife has. The angel wearing a white military-ish uniform with gold shoulder pads, elbow length black leather gloves and knee high leather black heeled boots.

Charlie gave his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, he squeezed it back, grateful for her support.

Alastor grins, not expecting a twist in the scenario.

The young man turned to look at them with a gentle smile, “Greetings, I am Xavier. I am tasked with showing you guys where you will stay for tonight.” Xavier says.

Xavier looked at his obvious half family from hell, before, he had anger for them but because of his mother's influence, he was able to manage his anger on them. But it doesn't mean he'll accept Lucifer and Charlotte his family, he already has his own family in heaven. He doesn't need them.

“Please follow me and keep up.” Xavier says, almost emotionless. It's a habit of his, it might come off as rude or cold to people he just met but he doesn't care. His mother is the angel of kindness, he needs to inherit her kindness instead of his father's pride.

The hell citizens just looked at him with slight nervousness—aside from the smiling one—before eventually following him.

Lucifer just stared at the back of Xavier's head, the golden halo shining brightly against his light blonde hair. He wanted to speak to him but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He just follows in silence, his demon kind just looking at him in worry—except Alastor, who just gave him a teasing grin.

They followed him, it took a while but they finally arrived at their destination. A large white mansion with black and gold accents, surrounded by fluffy white clouds and trees. Sunflower and tulip fields decorating the front garden. [Y/n]'s favorite flowers.

“This is where you'll be staying so please, come inside.” Xavier says, the gates to the large mansion opening for them.

They admired the scenery, it is completely different from hell. Clean and tidy. Almost blinding to the eye.

They finally arrived inside the large mansion, completely in awe with its exterior and interior designs.

“Don't worry about the palace being too crowded, it's just me and my family living here.” Xavier explained, ushering them to follow him. Walking towards the supposed living room, they weren't able to see the large family portrait on the wall as it was mounted on a wall that they couldn't see.

“I am surprised we're staying somewhere luxurious this time unlike last time. How come?” Charlie asked and Xavier gave her a raised eyebrow before sighing.

“The guest rooms are currently full while waiting for new buildings to be created for the new souls. The seven thought it would be a good idea if one of them houses you guys.” Xavier shrugs before continuing to tour them around. Angel whistling in admiration.

“And this will be your room.” Xavier says as he showed Lucifer his room. The others are already settled in.

“Thank you.” Lucifer says, almost a whisper as he went inside the large luxurious room. Xavier nodded as he stood at the doorway.

“It's nothing, I'll get going now and if you need me, I'll be in the living room.” Xavier says before turning around to leave.

“Wait!”

Lucifer doesn't know what he was thinking, he just acted out on impulse. Xavier stopped, turning around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“What is it?” Xavier asked, looking down on him. Mom, why is he so small? He thought.

Lucifer gulped, clearly nervous, “Are you... My...?” he couldn't get all the words out as his ears were ringing.

“Son?” Xavier completed, crossing his arms to look at his blood father, “Yes.” he says flatly and Lucifer's breath hitched.

Xavier sighs, already done with this, “Look, I am going to be straight with you dear father of mine.” Xavier says flatly, Lucifer looking at the taller boy in front of him.

“Just because you're my blood father doesn't mean I want you back in my life, whatever you're trying to do. I don't welcome it. I couldn't care less about you or my half sister. Do you understand? So, stop. Don't give me and my family a hard time. You've done enough damage already.” Xavier says coldly, catching Lucifer off guard. The fallen angel's heart shattered at the boy's harshness.

“Excuse me, I still have work to do.” Xavier says as he quickly walked away. Lucifer nodded, almost robotic. He went inside the guestroom and cried.

Lucifer doesn't blame Xavier for acting that way. After all, he's a horrible husband and father to [y/n] and Xavier.

Dinner was oddly awkward, a tension between the three blood relatives. Xavier didn't join them, opting to only have a drink instead.

“Aren't you going to eat?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she sat beside her dad, Xavier didn't bother looking up from his golden holographic screen that came from his wrist watch, his other hand typing into the hair and into the hologram.

“I'll eat later.” Xavier answers nonchalantly, they can clearly see him texting his mom.

M: Don't be too harsh on them sunshine.

X: I'm trying.

D: Well you better try harder, kiddo.

X: 🙄

X: What time will you come home?

D: Late as usual.

M: Indeed, there are still many things to finish but your father and I will make it quick to join you for dinner.

X: Alright, stay safe.

D: Love you, kiddo. Goodluck lol.

M: We will, sunshine. Love you<3

X: love you guys too.

Xavier was grinning slightly as he texted some people, Lucifer assumed it was [y/n] and somebody else he doesn't know of.

Lucifer avoided Xavier after that, clearly heartbroken. Lucifer assumes the D and M profiles meant Mom and Dad and Lucifer assumed that [y/n] remarried and he can clearly see how happy Xavier is talking to them.

To shorten this all up, the meeting went smoothly. The Seven Virtues promised to fund the hotel and also asked for Lucifer's forgiveness for how harsh they treated him. Heaven took back his punishment and he can freely visit heaven anytime. Lucifer was able to find out that Azrael married [y/n] and she's happily married to the man. Though, she doesn't hate him and forgave him but she did make it clear that she doesn't want him back to her life and so did Xavier and Lucifer respected their wishes.

Finally returning back to hell, Lucifer was extremely heartbroken. He lost before he even got to start. But part of him is glad that [y/n] found a better man than him, someone who treats her better than him.

End notes: I got a little lazy at the end lmao.

TAGLIST:

#lxkeee answers #hazbin hotel #lxkeee updates #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lxkeee hazbin hotel masterlist #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer magne

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lis-likes-fics · 3 months

Text

Poison

Pairings: Coriolanus Snow x district!Reader Word Count: 13.3k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, technically dubcon, swearing, post-ballad, mentions of killing and death, violence, technically prostitution, oral (m and f!receiving), fingering, multiple orgasms, sadistic tendencies, p in v sex, unprotected sex, coriolanus snow is NOT a good person. A/N: I started this a bit ago but writer's block hits hard. Reader did not remember who the enemy was...but she also kinda did. ANYWAy, I wrote this based around a song from Hazbin Hotel called Poison. All credit for the song goes to Sam Haft and Andrew Underberg. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!

PART ONE: The Deal

The knocks which echo off the walls of your house are loud, firm, assertive. You jump at the sound, watching the door like it would fly off its hinges. For far too long, you stare at the door, debating whether or not you should open it.

Who could it be? You don't get many visitors… You don't get visitors.

You stand slowly, the hairs along your arms and the back of your neck on edge. You swear that you can feel your hands shaking. You hold your breath just so you can actually hear what's going on around you.

Another firm knock is given, and you snap out of your haze.

Your feet carry you across the length of the living room. Your fingers brush the cold knob of the door, and you hesitate before pulling it open, just enough to peek through the crack to see who could possibly be visiting you.

Your eyes widen and you fight the urge to step back, both of pure shock and a modicum of fear. “Mr. Snow.”

The sight of Gamemaker Coriolanus Snow at your door was not one you ever thought you'd see. There are two Peacekeepers behind him, holding their guns tight in offense against you.

You clear your throat, looking upon his expensive suit, his white-blonde hair, the single rose in his breast pocket. You force yourself to look him in the eye, afraid to antagonize him and risk any violence, before remembering who he was. He wouldn't get violent, but you would pay for it if you angered him.

He smiles when you finally meet his gaze, but he doesn't bother to tilt his chin down to level it. “Hello,” he greets politely.

You straighten your posture slightly, opening the door a bit more out of obligation more than a desire to welcome him in. Seeing that he is the man who designed the Games that put you through hell, you would rather keep him out.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, keeping your voice as non-confrontational as possible. “Sir.”

He shrugs, pulling his hands from the pocket of his jacket and holding them behind his back. He almost seems taller this way.

“Checking up on our latest Victor,” he smiles. He motions toward your living room, “May I come in?”

You don't have much of a choice now. With a sigh, you take a reluctant step to the side and grant his invitation. When he takes his first step forward and the Peacekeepers begin to move, he stops immediately and holds up a hand. They stand firmly in their place. Snow turns back to you, smiles, and then walks inside.

He takes the time to examine the place before he ever speaks, and you close the door behind him to shut the grunts out. Snow clasps his hands behind his back once more and glances around the room like it's speaking to him. He nods slowly, humming to himself.

“How are you?” he finally asks after you've both spent far too long in uncomfortable silence. “How is the life of a champion suiting you?”

You try not to scoff, bowing your head and crossing your arms over your chest, making yourself as small as you feel.

“Well enough, I guess,” you mumble.

He glances over his shoulder at you. “You guess?” he wonders, raising a curious brow.

You clench your jaw once, “Mr. Snow respectfully, why are you here?”

He shrugs. “As I said…checking on our Victor.”

You hum. “And you do this with all your Victors?”

The corner of his lip kicks, barely perceptible if you aren't paying attention. But you are. It would cost you a lot not to pay attention.

“That's the routine,” he says. His eyes wander around the room once more, falling back on you with a cold expression. His eyes are like frost, and you shudder at the sight of them. He tilts his head.

“You don't seem quite happy with your turnout,” he suggests, his eyes narrowing slightly in a questioning manner. You feel like your blood has just run cold. The anxiety seeps into your skin. “Why is that?”

You clench your jaw nervously, clearing your throat as you shrug. You tear your eyes away from him for just a moment and force yourself to look back immediately after.

Your voice is small and your attempt at lying fails because of it. “Why wouldn't I be happy?” you ask. “I have…” You glance around, trying to find something to point out before you seem too suspicious—uselessly, you already know you've been caught red-handed. “I have...a new house and—and prize money. And fans, apparently.”

You try not to be too disgusted by that—fans gained with the useless slaughter of children. A few months you've been out of that arena. And you still see the faces of all those children in your head wherever you go, the sounds of regret and their deaths deafened by the screaming cheers of the mindless crowd that celebrated you for it.

“I'm…” you take a breath, “all set.”

He doesn't believe you. Why would he?

“Yet you've barely moved in,” he points out, making a small circle in the place where he stands. He holds his arms out, as if to emphasize his point. “No pictures, little to no personal belongings. This house looks exactly as it did when you first moved in.”

You furrow your brows, tilting your head slightly. “You know what it looked like?” you question, a gentle and hopefully empty challenge.

He raises a brow. “I was the one who approved everything here. For your comfort, of course.”

Ah.

“No one lives here with you?” he wonders.

You shake your head tentatively. “No one to live with.”

His brows raise slightly. “No family? Friends?”

You clear your throat and shake your head once more.

He hums. “A little lonely, don't you think?”

You shrug, your arms crossing tighter over your chest as you turn slightly away. “I'm used to being alone.”

His eyes scan you up and down. “That's quite sad.”

You swallow thickly. “Doesn't matter to me.”

“Here you are all alone in your little District 7,” he says. The way he looks at you, his predatory gaze, it makes you feel so small. But his voice is soft, not as mocking as it should sound compared to his diction. “No friends, no family, and no care about the way it all is.”

You want him to leave, leave you alone to your loneliness, your quiet misery. If he is just going to stand there and call you an outcast, you don't see any reason that he should stay.

“Yeah. Your point?” You don't mean to sound so hostile but you couldn't help it.

He seems to smirk. “How would you like to change that?”

You could have gotten whiplash. You blink rapidly, licking your lip as you try to figure out if you heard him correctly. “What?” you ask.

“How would you like to change that?” So you had heard him right. “Be a little less lonely, You'd have money, friends, all of your needs would be taken care of.”

You don't trust him. Why should you? Why would Coriolanus Snow offer you all of this? Comfort and stability, a life of luxury?

At what cost?

“And you're offering this to me, why?” Attempting a little boldness, you uncross your arms and straighten your spine a bit. “What did I do? I mean…” you scoff, “I won, sure, but only by the skin of my teeth. And I'm sure you don't go around offering this to all your other Victors. What's so special about me, huh?”

There's a long silence where he just…stares at you. His face is completely unreadable, devoid of any type of emotion as he watches your face too closely.

Then a smile begins to curl his lips and he tilts his chin up just a slight. “You're right,” he says simply. Then his eyes look you up and down. “Truth is, I lied.”

You don't like the change in demeanor. It's a different kind of superiority than the one he displayed before. “I figured as much,” you reply, trying not to lose your confidence, though your voice does become a little quieter. “So what do you want? Why are you here?”

He tilts his head and steps toward you. You take an instinctive step back. “You're special,” he says. You scoff but he just shakes his head. “I can feel it. I wasn't lying about my offer. I came to give you more than…” he looks around and sighs, “an empty house with no pictures on the walls. As I said…all your needs would be taken care of.” The smallest shrug raises his shoulders. “With a price.”

There it is.

Again, you scoff. You cross your arms and roll your eyes and plop down on the couch. “Have I not paid enough?”

He walks toward you, and suddenly you regret putting yourself in such a physically vulnerable situation. “You're right,” he hums. “You have. I'm not asking much. Truth is…all I need is an assistant.”

You furrow your brow. “And you're choosing someone from District instead of Capitol?”

He takes a slow breath in, shrugging. “You suit my interests. Capitol does not.”

“So I have to, what, follow you around? Take orders from you?” You lick your lip. “And I get what exactly?”

He takes his hands from his pockets. “Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. Anything you could ever need or want.” He stops a moment, thinking to himself with a light hum. “You'd have to sign a contract, of course.”

You sigh, a million thoughts rushing through your head as you actually consider his offer. This is the man who literally designed your hell. He is one of the very people who forced you to fight for survival, to kill for it. For months, you've lived with nightmares full of slaughter and regret.

But for years, you've lived with isolation and solitude. He would give you everything. Shelter, money, a sprinkle of fame. A chance to start over, a chance to be a little less lonely.

But you are all too aware of the chance that this could all blow up in your face. This is Coriolanus Snow. He's not to be trusted, surely.

“And if I say no?”

He stands still for a moment, so still you wonder if he'd frozen in time. You have to urge yourself to hold his gaze. You can't seem afraid of him, you just can't.

Finally, Snow lets out a long sigh. He steps close, before turning and sitting next to you on the couch. He leans back, getting comfortable as he crosses his legs and sets his hands in his lap.

“Then you stay here,” he says plainly, shrugging before letting his gaze wander around the living room of this hollow home. “In this big…empty house.”

This big empty house. Your grand solitude.

Knowing the things you know now, you wish you could say that you would go back and change your decision. You wish you could say you'd go back and choose your loneliness over the dark nights you'd sucked yourself into.

You made a deal with the Devil. And you know that if you had the choice…you'd do it again.

I'm not above a love to cash in…

PART TWO: Paradise

A week later, you found yourself standing in the Capitol, in Coriolanus Snow’s office, with a contract and a pen in front of you. You scanned over the words, took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and signed your name on the dotted line at the bottom.

Snow gave you a large smile and sent an escort to show you to your new living quarters. In his house. Down the hall from his room.

And for the next couple of weeks, you've been to two separate welcome parties, two other Capitol parties, and six meetings as Snow’s new assistant. You've handled messages, documents, scheduling, and a variety of appointed tasks that have put you in positions so far above so many Capitol members, you briefly wonder if you've signed into a scam.

At first, there was…resistance among the people. There were insults that you were an animal, a bottom feeder, a whore, a parasite. But every person who had dared to insult you had gone missing the next day. No one made any questions, or remarks, after so many people mysteriously disappeared.

And, soon, you got comfortable. Because Snow held up his end of the bargain. You were comfortable, wealthy, made some friends who had taken a moment to get used to you (you suspect they're trying to be nice to you to earn favor from Snow, but at least you aren't being insulted anymore). You don't go hungry every night, you always have fresh clothes. Sure, your schedule was a bit stressful, but that was an adjustment that could be made. Asking for more would be selfish—and insane, what more could you want?

You were, on the levels that counted…happy, content.

In just a few weeks, you had settled in like you belonged. Well…maybe not to that extent, but the work became easy and the needless parties were much appreciated.

When someone knocks on your door, you're pulling your robe over your body as you walk over to answer it. One of the servants stands on the other side, looking tired from the day's work.

“Yes, Charlotta?”

“Mr. Snow has requested your presence in his study, ma'am,” she says.

You glance behind you at the clock in your room. “Now? It's so late.” You hum, “Alright, thank you. Go to bed. You must be exhausted.”

She nods thankfully and turns away. You're quick to pull your slippers on, pulling your robe tight around your nightgown before rushing down the hall. You don't want to be late to him.

You reach his door down the hall, taking in a breath and raising your fist. Your knuckles meet the door four times.

“Come in,” His muffled reply comes.

You turn the knob, opening the door. Peaking into the room, you slowly walk inside, standing by the door. “You called?” you speak gently.

Snow is slouched over his desk, his pen scrawling away at a file of papers in front of him. “I did,” he nods. There's a moment of silence between you as he finishes up the last part of his work.

He sets his pen down and sits up, his back straight as he sets his clasped hand over his lap and turns his full attention to you. “I have an urgent matter I need you to take care of.”

You close the door behind you, establishing some privacy. It must be important if he's asking you this late. He probably needs you to run some important documents to someone, or schedule another meeting with one of the ambassadors that came to one of his meetings today.

“Yes, sir?” you ask.

“Come here,” he says, making a come hither movement with his fingers. Clasping your hands behind your back, you walk toward his desk and stop in front of him. He clarifies, “Behind the desk.”

You tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you hesitate. You begin to take your first step, pause, and then make your way behind the desk.

He turns his chair as you come to stand in front of him, your hands held tightly in front of you. He sits there, staring up at you as his eyes rake over your body.

You shift from foot to foot, suddenly feeling very self-conscious about the way he's looking at you. And again…silence.

“Get on your knees.”

All the heat escapes your body at the same time. A chill rushes up your spine. And once the initial shock has dissipated, a fire spreads across your flesh and you're burning up. You feel like your hands have begun shaking, so you shift them behind your back.

You have to find your voice again, clearing your throat timidly. “Sir?” you nearly stutter, clearing your throat again.

He shakes his head, amused by the timid look on your face. “I didn't stutter.”

You don't move, shocked to stillness. Snow sighs, standing to his feet and moving in front of you. He holds his chin up, looking down his nose at you to emphasize his superiority. You shrink underneath him.

“You're my assistant. You signed a contract,” he explains. “I take care of your needs, you take care of mine. No matter the request.”

You really should have read the fine print.

“Right now,” he continues, raising a hand to brush his knuckles over your cheek. Your eyes flutter lightly at the contact, holding your breath, afraid to breathe wrong and upset him. “My needs are for you to get on your knees and put your pretty mouth to good use. Then I'll do the same for you.”

Another shudder rushes through your spine. He pretends not to notice, but his smirk does deepen. Your lips part as you try to speak, unsure of what you'll say. “I…”

He drops his hand, lifting a brow expectantly. “Is there a problem?”

You clear your throat one more time, shaking your head and glancing away from his eyes, his intense, cutting blue eyes. “No, sir.”

He smiles. “Good.”

You glance up at him. His hand reaches up and grasps your chin. In the next moment, he's pulling you in as his lips crash down against yours. It's a possessive kiss, deep and devouring—controlling.

You have no choice but to kiss him back, letting your hands fall at your sides and lifting them up to his arms. You don't know where you're supposed to put them.

Just as you're leaning into the kiss, he pulls away from you and takes a step back. His lips, still parted and smiling, are wicked. He lowers himself into his seat, his legs wide open and his hands clasped in front of him. “As you were.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Taking an unsteady step forward, you slowly kneel to the floor. You hold your breath, avoiding his gaze as your shaky hands reach for his belt.

You undo it, pulling open his button and unzipping his pants. Exhaling, you nervously dip your hand into his pants and feel the warmth of his length against the pad of your fingers. You shudder, braving him as you pull him out of his pants.

And he doesn't disappoint.

Your eyes widen and you don't feel like it's real as you hold him in one hand. He's long with a nice enough girth that he will stretch you a bit. You curse under your breath, licking your lips as you glance up at Snow.

He smiles, watching you closely. Suddenly you feel naked. “What are you waiting for?” he asks, not cruelly.

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the pink tip of his cock. You let your lips part and let your tongue fall to the edge of your lip…

The soft red light of Coryo’s lamp glows dimly on your skin as his strong hand cards through your hair, balling into a fist to grip your locks at his own need. Your moans stutter deep in your throat where his cock sits, the tears spring to your eyes.

His tongue plunges inside of you, licking the honey from your folds as you arch your back and moan his name. Your fingers tangle in his hair, and he groans into you at the sting of his scalp from your insistent grasp.

His lips press kisses to your back as you white-knuckle the headboard of his bed. His fingers dig into your hips, creating crescents in your flesh that crater your skin. He fucks you in long, hard strokes of his cock. His teeth are bared like a beast, his hair falls over his forehead, his groans are rough with lust.

The crashing of waves drowns you, explosions are set off deep within your body. His liquor fills your mouth, your throat, your belly. It's warm and sating, and he pulls you close to make sure you never stray from his hold.

And through the night, his arms never leave your body, his claws never leave your flesh…

It wasn't hard to get cocky after that. The Capitol was lavish, and it had a way of turning people to bathe in the lap of luxury. You slowly began to learn what kind of position you truly held here, and after months of being high-seated in the Capitol, you had begun to sink into your role.

Snow is the Head Gamemaker, you are his assistant. Everyone had to listen to you if they wanted to make it back home safe to their families. With a whisper in your boss’ ear, you could ensure no one ever spoke badly about you again.

Not that you have exercised that power yet, but you could. And Snow was happy to oblige.

After that first night in his room, your lips around his cock, his hand tangled in your hair, the pleasure didn't end. No, it's normal to find yourself tangled in his sheets, to find your head buried between his thighs (or vice versa), to have his name falling from your lips like you were praying to the gods that men had killed years and years ago.

You've become addicted to the taste of Snow, the smell of Snow, the feeling of Snow. It's an easy thing to overdose on.

Should you have been more careful?

Yes. Yes, you should have.

But Snow is an easy thing to get high on.

Katri spots you through the luscious crowd of one of the Capitol’s many needless parties with ease. Surrounded by nobles and benefactors, you brought your flute of champagne to your lips with a smile. A giggle erupts from your throat at one of the party-goers’ jokes—one that you didn't find particularly funny, but you've gotten really good at pretending.

Katri walks up to you, a tray of champagne in hand as she does. “Ma'am?” You turn toward her, smiling and grabbing a fresh flute from her tray with thanks. She clears her throat, “Mr. Snow has requested your presence.”

You hum gratefully. “Alright, I'll be there in a moment.”

You begin to turn around again but she insists. “He says it's urgent. He wants you immediately.”

Ah, then he's pent up. You wave a hand dismissively, sticking to your response. “Well, tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.” She gives you a hesitant look, and you smile. “He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it. Okay?”

She scoffs lightly, turning away. “Whatever you say.”

The anxiety in the air around her is palpable with the fact that she would have to return this news to Snow. She finds him in the same place she left him, surrounded by diplomats with his own—now empty—flute of champagne.

As she approaches him, he smiles politely. “Where is my little assistant?” he asks.

Katri clears her throat as she switches his glass out for a fresh one. “She said she'll be here in a moment.”

The shift in his attitude is so slight, it's easy to miss. But she notices the slight clench of his jaw, the faintest clutch of his fingers. “Did she now?” he questions, his head tilting a bit to the side.

She nods slowly, switching her tray to her other hand. “Her exact words were…” She clears her throat once more, not wanting to recite your words back to him. You must have been out of your mind. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. I'll be there in a moment.’ ”

He seems to know there's more to it because he bids her to continue. Her eyes glance away from him as she does. “She said, ‘He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’”

She can tell there's something else he wants to say but chooses not to as his smile becomes tight. “Thank you,” he says simply, politely.

She nods. “Yes, sir.” She walks away.

PART THREE: Reality

You smile a bit when you feel Coryo’s hand land on the side of your arm, grazing up the length of it to reach your shoulder. You look up at him, immediately noticing the stiffness of his grin.

I shoulda guessed that this would happen…

“Coryo,” you greet with a smile. He nods toward the people surrounding you, greeting them politely. He doesn't look at you, just begins to lead you away from them as he ducks his head nearer to your ear.

“My office.” His words are firm, with no room to refuse.

Still, like a fool, you say, “In a moment please? I–”

His smile does not falter, but his voice is a demand as he speaks through his teeth. His grip on your shoulder becomes tight. “Now.”

You clear your throat, your smile still intact but not as professionally kept as his own. You nod once, “Yes, sir.”

He walks away, but not in the direction of his office. You watch him leave, clearing your throat discreetly and dismissing yourself from those who try to speak to you. You go straight to his office, not daring to refuse him again.

When you're there, you find yourself pacing the length of the room uneasily, waiting for him to join you. But he doesn't join you, not immediately. He makes you wait, he makes you stir. You stew in your own anxieties, cursing yourself for being so stupid as to tell him to wait.

Him.

Coriolanus Snow.

He interrupts your thoughts ten minutes later—you know, you counted—opening the door and shutting it gently behind him. He doesn't meet your gaze as he walks past you dismissively. He rounds his desk, pulling open a drawer that holds his personal scotch.

In silence, he pours himself a glass. In silence, he takes a sip. In silence, he savors the taste on his tongue and refuses to look your way for even a second.

You bow your head as you wait for him to say something, anything.

And when he does speak, you suddenly wish he hadn't.

“You're ‘busy’?” he questions.

“Sir?” Your voice is barely above a whisper.

He smiles, turning to finally look at you. “ ‘Tell Coryo I'm busy. He doesn't have to worry his pretty little head about it.’ ” He licks his bottom lip, scoffing as he shakes his head at your audacity. “You let those words come out of your mouth?”

You clear your throat as quietly as possible. “I…didn't think it was a big deal… I was on my way.”

He stares at you, unblinking. Then he takes another sip of his drink and sets it down again. He walks from behind his desk, rounding to the front and leaning against it.

“Do you think you're special or something?” He furrows his brow, as though he's confused. You want to sink into the floor, to let the world swallow you whole, to disappear. “What, because I fuck you, you can talk to me any way you want?”

He puts venom behind the word, enough force to ensure you felt it. You swallow thickly, wanting to step away but knowing that if you did that, you would only make matters worse.

“Look at me,” he demands. And immediately, you obey.

You speak quickly, trying to fix your mistake before it can get worse. “Coryo, I'm sorry. I–”

“You're not special,” he cuts you off, advancing toward you. He grabs your wrist, pulling it up sharp and pulling you close to his face, inches away. You can feel his breath on your cheeks. “I own you. You belong to me.” His voice is low, dangerous.

But you've still got some pride left over. And that would be your downfall…

“I don't ‘belong’ to an–”

“You're mine!” he exclaims, though he doesn't shout. There's force behind his words, and his voice raises to a more stern, more possessive growl as he shoves you back. You stumble to the floor, grunting from the pain that shoots up your arm from landing on your elbow. You look up at him, your eyes wide with fear.

I shoulda known it when I looked in your red hot eyes…

“That's what it says in your contract, or do you not remember?” He takes a step closer, standing over you. His voice is low and dangerous, but he has no use for yelling anymore as he speaks to you. “You take care of all my needs—no protests, no complaints. Those words say that you do whatever I want, whenever I want it, however I want it. And if you complain, I take away everything you know, drop you back in your sad little district, and put your name back in the raffle one hundred times over.”

You should have known it from the beginning. A deal so good had to come with a hell of a lot of strings. From the very beginning, he had been lying to you with the idea of a shiny new life.

Spewing all your red hot lies…

He stares at you, his jaw clenched, his breath slowing to a gentler seethe. He lifts his chin, collecting himself as he takes a steadying breath. He kneels in front of you, resting his elbow on his knee.

His voice is a whisper. “You belong to me.” His tone is final, definite. “If I say speak, you say?”

Your breath trembles with a mix of anger and fear as you look up at him, tears threatening to well in your eyes but refusing to breach the surface and give him the satisfaction. Your lips part, though you hardly give yourself space to speak.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“If I say jump, you say?”

“Yes, Coryo.”

His hand wraps around your throat, pulling you forward enough so that your faces are once again only inches apart. “And if I say open your mouth, you get on your knees and drop your jaw.”

You stare at him, your gaze so close to blurring as you sigh, choked up from his suddenly poor treatment of you. “Yes, Coryo.”

The smallest smirk creeps over his lips and threatens the rest of your already weak composure. He pulls you in and his lips press hungrily against yours. It's all teeth and tongue, biting your bottom lip and licking the top of your mouth. You want to resist, but you can't. His touch, however wrong, however killing, is addictive.

When he pulls away from your lips, you nearly seek him out, releasing a breath like he'd filled your lungs with smoke. Your skin picks with red hot spite at the tiny moan that slips through your lips.

He holds your throat a little tighter, not enough to stop your breath but enough to make the tips of your ears tingle. Enough to make the heat in your core grow.

“I own you,” he whispers. “You belong to me. Do I make myself clear?”

Your lips part and shallow breaths pass pathetically through them before you finally respond, a whisper of your own. “Yes, Coryo.”

“I can't hear you.”

“Yes…Coryo.”

His grip loosens. “Good.”

He lets you go, standing to his full height once more as you take in a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as your hand flies to your throat.

You watch his hands find his belt, undoing it with deft hands. “Now open your mouth,” he commands.

You swallow thickly, slowly adjusting yourself to sit on your knees. You glance away as you drop your jaw and stick your tongue out over your teeth.

“Look me in the eyes.”

You do, immediately. His blue eyes, hiding so many lies behind them that they brim with color. “Good girl.”

Your jaw ticks as you raise your hands to pull his cock from his pants, already hard from the power he holds over you.

What's the worst part of this hell? I can only blame myself.

You wrap your lips around the tip, laving your tongue against the head before slipping it underneath him. Stroking the rest of you, you take special care in providing his pleasure as you let your lips suckle around him.

Up and down his length, you go, giving him your hot, wet mouth as he likes it—as he needs it. His hand tangles in your hair and grips it tight, guiding you just a bit to take him deeper down your throat. And you do. You take him as far as he'll go, keeping the gag awaiting at bay as you swallow around him.

I know you're poison. You're feeding me poison.

And when you think you've gone far enough, he holds you down and shoves the rest of him farther inside. Your lungs are tight, they burn with the lack of air. But you just hold onto his thighs and hope he grants you enough mercy for breath.

And when he pulls out enough for you to snatch that merciful breath, you can taste his precum on your tongue. And you waste no time in taking him again, up and down and up and down. Just like he likes it—just like he needs it.

He curses under his breath, holding you tighter as his desperation grows and grows. “Fuck, just like that,” he huffs, fighting to keep his eyes open as your tongue caresses the vein along the bottom of his cock.

His lips part, his eyes shut. He shoves you farther down on his cock as your good work pushes him over the edge. The warmth fills your mouth, down your throat in generous amounts of pent up stress. And you drink it up. Every drop. Like liquor.

Addicted to this feeling I can't help but swallow up…

You catch your breath as he collects himself once more, his chest heavy with the lust simmering down in his belly. He tucks himself away, back into his pants. And as he watches you, you lick your lips free of his poison.

He smiles wickedly, cupping your chin in his hand. “Good girl,” he praises again. You stare at him and say nothing else. He inhales, exhales, and straightens his back. “Come. We have a party to re-attend.”

You stand on unsteady feet, wiping your face clean just to ensure you aren't going back to the party with Snow’s cum on your lips.

He pulls his arm around your waist and leads you back.

At the first sight of you and Snow, the vultures swarm. “We were beginning to think you weren't coming back down,” one of them jokes.

Snow smiles, “Of course not. I just had some business to take care of. Isn't that right?” He turns to you expectantly.

You let your smile widen across your lips as you nod. “Yes, Coryo,” you say.

You can see the wicked beast glint happily in his eyes. Pleased, he turns away from you again to look at his hand, realizing it lacks the champagne flutes each of his guests hold in their hands. He smiles at you once more.

“Would you mind getting drinks for me and my guests?” he requests.

You avoid the clench of your jaw that you long to grant him, instead deciding to pull your smile into a wider grin and nod.

“Yes, Coryo.”

“Thank you,” he grins. He lifts a crooked finger to the underside of your chin, tapping it lightly. “And cheer up… It's a party.”

You give him a tight smile and walk away in the direction of the kitchens, which is currently bustling with people making another batch of the well-loved appetizers and refilling more glasses for the guests.

You pass by the champagne entirely to get to the, quite large, liquor cabinet. You pour yourself a hefty glass of scotch and gulp it down, braving the burn of your throat as you finish it with a sigh.

You replace the scotch, claim a tray, and walk out with the requested beverages. You hand them to Snow and his guest, a glorified waitress.

Taking your own flute, you hand the tray to a passing server and let the effects of the scotch sink into your bones.

You wouldn't call the rest of the night a blur, especially because you are completely aware of what was happening as you continued to mingle with the guests. You kept a hold of your wobbling tongue, and you remained civil and polite. Snow could tell there was something off—and of course he knew what it was—but you hadn't embarrassed him yet, so he let it slide.

And that night, when the guests took their leave and the party came to a close, you met Snow in his bedroom once more so he could more thoroughly remind you of who you belonged to.

And like the addict you are, you happily obliged.

PART FOUR: Lap Dog

You made sure not to forget your place again.

Weeks turned to months, months turned to years, and you were still seated at Snow's right hand as he climbed the ladder, dragging you along through the journey. You did everything for him, anything for him. That was your job. Whatever he asks of you is considered done as soon as the request passes his lips. Whatever he wants, whenever he wants, however he wants. No matter what.

You sold your soul to the Devil, and you were addicted to the madness of your deal.

“I need you to give this to Snow.”

You're stopped in the middle of the hall by some woman with a stack of files in her arms. She's got a smug face, and you immediately don't like her as she grabs the file at the top of her stack and thrusts it out toward you.

You sigh, taking it as you begin to flip it open. “What is it?”

She pinches the top corner closed, shaking her head. “It's not your business to know, is it?”

You scoff, smiling as you tilt your chin up. The same way Snow does when he wants to stress his rank over another person's head. “Actually,” you wave her hand away from you, “as President Snow's assistant, it is my job to know anything and everything about what goes to and from his desk.” You take a step toward her, looking down on her just as he would. “So I ask again, what is it?”

There's a long pause as she stares at you, her eyes dark with the hatred and prejudice that bleeds from her gaze. Capitol taking orders from District? It's unheard of…

You would think, since you've been here so long, that they'd learn that you rank higher than they ever will. They don't have to like you, but whether they like it or not, they have to listen to you.

It wasn't hard to become cocky, but cocky was something you learned. This woman, whoever she was, was born with it. And that was a plague that would be the end of her.

She huffs quietly. “It's the request he made for some documents.” Your brow furrows slightly. A mistake. Now she believes she knows something you don't. Now she believes she has the upper hand. Her tone betrays her. “Something about the Games’ Victors.”

You don't know what this is. You've heard nothing of the sort.

But she keeps saying “something”. You want specifics. Does she not have it? “You don't know?”

“Of course I know,” she lays a delicate hand over her delicate chest. For a moment, you wonder if she's ever had to do any kind of work (you know she hasn't). She wouldn't last a second…

“And I'd elaborate,” she continues, pulling you from your thoughts, “but I, quite frankly, don't want to tell you, and you probably couldn't read it to figure it out for yourself.” Your jaw tenses at her unfounded insult. You don't respond. “I mean, that's why you want me to explain it to you, isn't it?”

I got so good at being untrue.

You sigh forcefully, a long, deep sigh to try and control yourself. “Excuse me?” Does she truly dare to challenge you in such a way?

“You heard me,” she replies, unblinking.

Clearly, she thinks you're an idiot. A stupid, incompetent idiot. You want to take her words and shove them back down her throat. You want to grab her by the hair and drag her around like the dog she seems to think you are.

But you can't. You must remain civil, so the only way you can try to hurt her is through your words.

You don't need trouble with Snow for embarrassing him…

“Ah,” you scoff, lifting your chin again to keep your superiority. “So you're stupid?”

The blatant insult has her clutching her pearls. Obviously, she wasn't expecting that kind of bluntness from you.

You smirk at her reaction, no longer collected. You have the upper hand once more.

“You really think it's a good idea to talk to me like that? Me? President Snow's second hand?” You don't love playing that card, but it's a play that will almost always work for you.

No one would dare object to President Snow.

She hums, trying to seem unphased. “You're right,” she says, “I probably shouldn’t speak to Coriolanus Snow’s little pup like that.” Her face contorts into one of mocking sorrow, her lip jutting out and her brows furrowing. “She might get sad and go tell her master on me.”

Little pup. Little pup.

Flashes of late nights spent in Coryo’s room, nights where his stress gets the better of him and he decides to take it out on you, nights where he spanks you and calls you names and takes you hard and rough, cross behind your eyes. “My dumb little girl, my pathetic little whore, my pitiful little pup.”

And you would let him, you would encourage him. You would moan and writhe and bend to his will. And your fists tighten at the memory. They clench with rage and regret and the desire to be more than an animal.

You aren't an animal, you are a human fucking being.

I got so good at telling you what you wanna hear. I disassociate, disappear.

Baring your teeth and losing composure, you huff. You're seething as you speak. “I am not his pup.”

She chuckles, finally striking a nerve as she lifts her brows. “Aren't you? His little lap dog.” She puts emphasis on each word, ensuring the ‘G’ hurts. She walks toward you, but you don't move. You stand your ground. You aren't scared of her.

You're going to fucking kill her.

Foolishly, she continues on. “You think just because you won the Games and he decided to take pity on you, that gives you any real power?”

You scoff. Pity. He doesn't know the meaning of the word.

“You're his whore,” she spits. It doesn't anger you because it's true, it angers you because no one even knows about that part of your deal, and she's accusing you of being a whore because of who you are.

Her face is inches from yours, her voice trying to be lower, though it's so naturally snooty that it's hard to reach that threatening level. She sounds like a child. And her sneer makes you want to treat her like one.

“You're a fucking slut. Just a little District animal who got lucky.”

Your anger flares. You grit your teeth. You lower your voice, successfully, and nearly growl.

“You wanna say that again?”

She smirks wickedly. “You are a whore.”

You walk toward her. She's standing so close that she is forced to step back with the stutter of her heels scraping the floor.

“You forget,” your lips turn in a venomous smile, fueled by rage and violent tendencies you're trying your best to hold back, “I fucking won the Games. I killed tributes with my bare hands, and you want to challenge me?”

And you see the flash of fear behind her eyes at the reminder, though she tries to hide it. But you know fear. You've felt it slice your flesh, you've used it to slice other's flesh. You know the biting and the tearing and the clawing of fear, and you can see it clear in her eyes even as she tries so hard to hide it.

Being afraid is the smartest thing she's done since she decided to open her mouth.

“You aren't going to do anything,” she says, as a defense more than an accusation, a reassurance for herself more than a taunt for you. “You'll just tuck tail and run to master–”

You're done being civil. You're done rolling over and showing your belly. You're done bowing your head and taking orders.

If they are going to treat you like an animal, you'll behave like one.

And she meets the blunt end of your rage with a fist to the face. Stacks of files smack loudly in a pile on the floor. You clip her cheek with the ring on your finger, and you huff at the pleasure that comes with defending yourself.

Her face whips to the side. It's a full body reaction. She staggers, crying out as her hand flies to her face, unable to take the heat of your violence. She looks back at you, her eyes wide with fear, too much to have room for anger.

You don't give her the chance to make room for it either. You punch her again on the same side, this time letting your fist connect with her brow. And when she stumbles again, you shove her back so she falls to the floor.

The sounds of her pain are loud and evident. But the bliss you gain from them is only so perfect because she deserves it.

And as you straddle her body, you can smell her fear just as well as you can see it. You can taste it like the blood she tastes on her tongue as you hit her again, and again, and again.

“What is going on here?”

You're off of her in an instant—and it's no scramble. You maneuver off of her with ease and scoop up your files once more, straightening your spine as you stand back and join Snow's side with one hand behind your back, bloodied knuckles and all. You sniff, the rueful look on your face taking a moment to dissipate as you replace it with civility.

You are a human being.

You don't look at Coryo’s face. You know it's covered with anger and disappointment. It's worse if he's stone cold. You can salvage this…

The woman rolls over onto her side, holding her nose delicately as she struggles to her feet. Tiny gasps and painful moans slip from her lips. She got what she deserves.

“Sorry, sir,” you say, obviously lying.

Suddenly, you feel like you should have punched her one more time. Because she begins to laugh. It's a bubbling laugh that you're sure is hurting her.

You can't do anything now. Not while Snow is here.

She shakes her head, licking her split lip and wincing through her laugh. Snow finds that more offensive than your empty apology, more offensive than even your savage display of violence.

“What's your name?” he demands.

She straightens up just a bit more. She also doesn't seem to understand the situation because she has a snarky grin on her face that says that she believes she's coming out of here on top. But those odds are not in her favor.

“Ellyn Halper,” she says.

“Ms. Halper.” He watches her, looking her up and down, his eyes strict and cold. He makes her squirm, even as she looks confidently at him. “You're fired.”

The news hits her like a train. She steps back, faltering, the horror crossing her face. “What?” She scoffs, glancing between the two of you as she shakes her head. “She attacked me!”

“And she wouldn't have attacked someone unprovoked,” he raises a brow. You try not to smile at him taking your side—and it's easy, because they talk about you like a misbehaved pet. “She must have had good reason. Clean out your desk and get out of my sight.”

She lingers, disbelief painting her features and mixing with her anger. When she doesn't move, Snow tilts his chin down and glares.

“Now.”

It's here that her rage outweighs her sense. She loses it. “You're going to protect this animal over Capitol?” she yells, pointing at you.

Still riding the high of your violence, you bare your teeth. “I'm not–”

“Quiet,” Snow snaps.

You shut your mouth.

Ellyn shakes her head, her lips twitching. She looks straight at you, sighing. She steps forward, stopped by Snow's warning hand. She leans in, “You're a disgrace.”

Snow can't have such blatant disrespect.

“Pack your bags, Ms. Halper,” he says. “I'm sending you to the districts.” Her horror is palpable. “We'll see who the animal is. I'm sure they would love to get their hands on Capitol.”

Snow doesn't give her any more attention. He turns and walks away, your impending punishment terrifying as you listen to his steps. You huff gently at her, slowly allowing your lips to split into your triumphant grin.

Snow calls your name. Your lips fall. You turn.

“Lap dog,” she spits.

Your jaw ticks. You turn again, and watch her step back. Your lips part, but before any sound can actually breach your lips, Snow calls your name again, firmer this time.

You huff, harder this time, and leave. You try to wipe the sight of that terrible smile on her bloodied face from your memory.

“What was that?”

He's pissed. His jaw ticks as he sets his hands on his hips.

But there's enough anger to go around.

Smacking the files on the desk, just as loudly as before as you jut your finger out towards them in accusation, you counter, “What is this?”

He dismisses you carelessly. “That's my business. Not yours.”

Before he can speak again, you cut him off, speaking quickly and concisely. “In my contract, it says I take care of your needs. It also says that I am your secretary and personal assistant. I handle your accounts, your documents, everything—so that means this is my business.” Stepping close to his desk, you lean forward toward him and lower your voice. “What is this about?”

Instead of answering you, he straightens his back and lifts his chin. With an amused scoff, he smirks lightly. “You actually read your contract.”

You don't appreciate his taunts. You read the full extent of your contract years ago, and you make sure to reread it every month to ensure you've memorized every detail. If he's got you on a tight leash, you need to know how much room you actually have to move.

“Coriolanus,” you huff. You wish you could say you won't say it again, but he'd make you repeat a million times if he felt like it. And you would have to obey. “What is it about?”

He's silent as he thinks to himself, contemplating. How does he answer your question without giving you the power and the luxury of a response?

But it's easy for him to remember that he will always have the power. He will always have the upper hand.

He breathes in, and you watch his lips curve. “The Victors.”

“I heard that,” you say. “What about them?”

His smile grows. The mischief and cunning lights up in his eyes. He places his hands in his pockets, rounding his desk as he leans back on it, crossing his ankles as he does. “This deal between you and I works pretty well, I'd say.”

You clench your jaw, unhappy with where this conversation is leading. You shake your head, “And?”

“And,” he shrugs, “there are and will be plenty more victors out there fit to do the same.”

You lose some of your bravado, your anger and confidence replaced by hesitant disbelief. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Sometimes you forget that Snow was, in truth, an evil man. Between your nights of passion and unnecessary gifts, it's easy to forget about the monster underneath his façade of fancy suits and beautiful roses.

He circles your body, like predator to prey…as always.

“I make sure people stay interested in the Games. And people like to keep up with our Victors,” he turns toward you suddenly. “I mean, they seem to take plenty of interest in you.”

You shake your head, your voice weak, “Coryo.”

He ignores you, continuing on. “These Victors are interesting. And some are considered to be quite…attractive in some senses.” He stops in front of you, smiling evilly. “A contract here and a signature there–”

“Coryo,” you try again, your voice trembling this time.

“–and these rich cats can have a Victor all to themselves.”

“Coriolanus.”

He stops, watching you expectantly as you try to wrap your head around his vile proposal.

They didn't deserve this. These Victors have already been through so much and he wants to add more grief and misery to their lives?

You were already lost the moment he stepped foot in your house, the moment you signed that contract, the moment you fell to your knees in his office and had your first taste of him. There was no hope for you now.

He'd gotten you addicted a long time ago…

“These are people,” you all but beg, clasping your hands together in hopes of persuading him away from his sadistic plans, “they're human beings. They aren't animals for you to sell.”

He makes a face, smiling wide as he leans in. “They are animals.” You expected this response, but it still hurts for him to say it so indisputably. “And they're for me to do whatever I want with.”

You clench your teeth and watch him turn away again, reclaiming the file and dropping it into a drawer he pulls open. “And besides, they won't be sold indefinitely.” He looks up at you with that sly grin of his. “The Capitol should be able to have their fill…”

You scoff. “Oh, so they're not just your slaves, they're your prostitutes.” You can't believe him, though you know you should.

He’d done it to you. What was stopping him from doing it to the rest?

Hopefully, you.

“They're my pets,” he counters. He leans forward onto his desk. And he's so tall, that he manages to lean in so much that he can see each little fleck of your irises as you stare unblinkingly at him. “Just like you.”

You nod, pursing your lips. “Okay, then I'm your pet.” You lean in as well, this time. You lean in so close that he has no choice but to shift away from you. “Not them.” You lick your lip and round the desk, wanting so desperately for him to hear your voice for once.

You plead, because it's the only thing you can do. Your voice is quiet, desperate, weak. Just the way he likes it.

“Let them go. You do enough to them, they don't deserve this.”

He doesn't hear you. He doesn't care.

“They deserve whatever I decide.”

Your jaw tenses, your thoughts scrambling to figure out a solution. Any solution. You just need to persuade him, to change his mind. This doesn't need to happen.

But his eyes are so cold, so stoney, so lying. There's no sympathy there and there will never be sympathy there. So you try to sway him in the way you know best.

You drop to your knees, skilled and shaky hands grasping his belt as you begin to undo it quickly. “What are you doing?”

The metal clinks as you work at it, pulling it free from the first loop as you begin to take the latch from its adjusted position. “Changing your mind,” you answer plainly. As you loosen the belt, tugging on it to remove it from the loops of his pants. “This is what you want, isn't it? You're just trying to rile me up to get me to do what you want. I'll do it–”

“Get the fuck off me.”

He pushes you away, shoving you onto the floor like you're nothing. And to him, you are. Nothing.

He doesn't seem angry, just annoyed at your audacity… And then he seems amused. His face lifts and he begins to smile. His smile turns to a chuckle, and he shakes his head as he looks down at you, purely amused by your attempt at persuasion.

“Oh, I get it,” he laughs, walking toward you to properly tower over your meek body. “You think that because I fuck you that I actually care about what you want.” He pronounces the F to hurt, punching it while also saying it with such disregard that it truly shows how little it means to him… Nothing.

He kneels down, resting his arm on his knee and watching you with those taunting eyes. “This isn't about you,” he whispers. Though his voice is soft, it cuts like a knife. Your hands tremble as they lift you up.

He spews his poison without restraint. “You are an animal. And yes, you are my lap dog.”

He feigns sympathy and remorse that he isn't capable of. “You think I swooped in earlier and punished that stupid girl because she talked down to you? I punished her because you're mine, and if I let someone get away with disrespecting my things, no one will respect me.”

He spews all his hatred, and you take it all. “I couldn't care less that she called you an animal or a whore or whatever the fuck else because you are.” It's a slap in the face each time as his voice becomes more and more hateful. “You're my pet, and you're my whore. You belong to me.”

So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp.

You stare at him, your face fallen as you seem to learn your lesson for the thousandth time. You're nothing to him. You're just property, and you mean nothing.

He smirks, standing to his full height once more as you remain tossed to the floor. You stare at him, your fight diminished.

“Speak.”

Like a dog.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Obedient.

“Smile.”

It looks like a sneer.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Well-trained.

Your lips part as you open your mouth, dropping your jaw as you've been doing for years.

And though that satisfies him beyond all belief, that satisfaction is all he needs. “Close your mouth.”

Nothing.

“Yes, Coryo.”

Your monotonous tone falls silent as you await his next command, a dog waiting for orders from her master.

He bends down, grasping the front of your shirt in his fist and pulling close. His face is inches from his. You don't fight him, you don't resist in any way. You let him move you as he pleases, staring blankly at him.

He looks about the length of your face. His smile is wholly evil. “Don't forget what you are.”

Quiet, broken, weak is your voice. Just the way he likes it.

“Yes, Coryo.”

He hums, letting you go. “Good girl.”

PART SIX: Addiction

You hear the footsteps coming down the hall and ignore them all the same. Flipping the next page in your book, you sigh gently and pull your legs closer toward you. Just a couple more sentences is all you ask…

Your door opens without a knock, and you aren't surprised. This is his home, you are his pet. Why ask permission for something which belongs to him?

You force yourself to meet Coryo’s gaze, the exhaustion in your eyes clear. He's in the same clothes as before, though his hair is more relaxed and his shirt is looser, the top few buttons undone to let his chest peek from its hiding spot. With one last sigh, you close your book.

You slip off the bed, easing down to your knees. Letting your hands rest in your lap, you allow your jaw to drop open wide, ready to receive him as you push your tongue out over your bottom teeth.

He smirks lightly, his chuckle even lighter. “Down girl.” You close your mouth.

“How do you want me?”

He sighs gently, closing the door behind him and slowly walking inside. “Believe it or not,” he says, his voice gentle, “I'm not here for me, I'm here for you.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed and suspicious. “Why?”

Your attitude amuses him. He shrugs, taking a seat at the edge of your bed and looking down at you. It doesn't feel as condescending as it usually does. “Making up.”

Foolish hope sparks in your chest, but you don't let it show. “So you're not going through with it.”

“No, I am.” He hums, “But I can't have my pet neglected, now can I?”

You sigh, turning away from him. You don't know why you asked.

He pats the spot next to him. “Get back on the bed, my flower.”

You look down at your hands as you rub at your pinky. “Yes, Coryo.”

As you sit up, taking the spot next to him, he tuts gently. “Now, now. No need for that tonight,” he says, closing the gap between the both of you.

You look up at him, your attitude fully present still. “Yes, Coryo.”

He sighs. Coryo sets a hand on your knee, turning toward you. “You're upset,” he says. You scoff. “That's understandable. I upset you.”

You want to say something snarky, but you're on thin ice from today, and you don't need to make it thinner. You turn away, but he catches your gaze as he takes your chin with his crooked finger and turns you to face him again.

And you hate yourself for feeling cared for.

“Let me make it up to you.”

You hate the way you nearly melt. “You can make it up to me by letting them go.”

He hums, shrugging. “Or I can eat you out.” You feel like you might shake at the idea. When you don't speak, he raises his brows. “Unless you just want me to leave…”

He's manipulating you. You know he is. He's been doing it since the beginning. You'd think you had some sort of defense against him at this point, but he's had years of practice in bending you to his will, in getting you hooked on him.

He knows. He knows what you are.

You're feeding me poison.

And you give in. Because you've never been strong against him, not even for a moment. You give in because you're so addicted to him that you'd die without the taste of him on your tongue…

With a long sigh, you lay back against your pillows and spread your legs. His smile spread across his face in such a wicked way, self-satisfied and fully amused.

He sets a hand on your knee and shifts himself to kneel in front of you. He slowly pulls your panties down your legs and pushes your nightgown away, teasing you and increasing your still-there frustrations.

Yes, you've lost the ability to resist this man and his sexual prowess, but that doesn't mean you want to draw this out. It's shameful enough…

He knows this. That's why he does it.

His lips press to the inside of your knee, then further down your thigh, and then right back up. You huff silently, annoyed with his antics.

He gives you a disarming smile. “Come now, my flower,” he tuts. “I may be spoiling you but that doesn't mean we don't still have our manners.”

You lay your head back, sighing as you let your eyes shut. You lick your bottom lip. “Please, Coryo.”

He hums. “I am sure you can do far better than that.”

Maybe you should cry. Maybe if you cry, he'll think you're ugly and leave you to live back in your lonely home at Seven. He'll think you're too worthless to go back into the Games. You could sober up the hard way… He'll leave you be.

But you know Coriolanus, which means you know that would never happen. He'd tsk, tsk, tsk and tell you how perfect you look crying. He'd hold you down and fuck you and tell you to be a good girl and keep crying for him. And you would. You know would.

Besides, if he did cast you out, he would just choose someone else to take your place. Then he would do this to them.

Better you than someone else.

You look up at him, screwing your face into a self-pitying expression. Your voice is small and meek when you open your mouth.

“Please, Coryo,” you whisper, “I'm yours.”

Just the way he likes it.

Pleased, he presses another kiss to the inside of your thigh, and then lets the flat of his tongue lick along the seam of your pussy. A whimper slips from your lips at the feeling, and you let yourself fade into the pleasure.

You forget that this man is your captor, your master. You forget that he's the reason for your nightmares. You forget that he's dark, cruel, sadistic, that he does not truly care for you.

You lose yourself in the fantasy that he is a loving man who only wants to see you happy.

“Coryo,” you moan as he suckles eagerly at your clit, a man starved of his sweet wine. Coryo. Not Coriolanus. Not Snow. Your Coryo. Your gentle, loving Coryo. The man who held you when he wasn't forcing you to your knees and bidding you to be his good girl.

His fingers stroke inside of you, two long fingers curling with you as his tongue flicks at your clit. The stretch of his fingers is welcome, and you look down at his head nestled between your thighs. You whine at the feeling of his tongue, hungry and searching.

His dull nails dig into the flesh of your thigh. As his tongue delves inside of you with his lips suckling around you, you feel his nose press deliciously against the sensitive bundle of nerves, which aches for release.

Circling his head, your legs wrap around him and squeeze, the tension tightening in your belly as he works eagerly at your pleasure. You're helpless to him as sounds rise from your throat like a gentle hum. Again, you whisper his name, lost to the feeling of him. He grunts into you, your body warm with the vibration, with the warmth of his mouth, with the warmth of his hands on your thighs.

“Coryo,” you whimper as you feel your pleasure rising within you, tingling in your legs and in your toes. Your open-mouthed breaths make your throat dry, but it’s hard to focus on that when each breath you take fills your chest with more and more desire. “I’m so close,” you gasp. “Please, can I cum?”

Instead of answering, he just sucks harder on your clit, prying your thighs further apart as he licks you up. As that coil tightens in your belly, your legs tremble and almost fight against his grip keeping them apart. You grind your hips up to meet his face, he holds you down.

You know how he likes it—the grinding, the moaning, the pleading, the strength. And when the pleasure crashes down on you, your clit pulsing against each lick of his tongue as he continues to work you, you shut your eyes and let out the breathy moans he loves so much. Your chest is full of warmth.

I’m choking on this feeling I can’t help but swallow up.

“C-Coryo,” you mutter, the sensitivity becoming too much as your legs continue to tremble. You arch away from him, but he holds you tight and pulls you closer. He forces your legs apart still, not quite finished as he continues to suckle around your sensitive bud.

You gasp when he finally pulls away, satisfied with the taste of you. “What a good girl you are,” he murmurs, smiling almost wickedly—though you replace it with one full of love and care. One can only dream.

He crawls up your body, stalking like a predator as he leans in, his face inches from yours. You bring your hands up to his cheeks and pull him down to meet your lips, kissing him with all the passion you can muster. He cares, he cares, he cares.

He cares as he traces his tongue along the seam of your lips. He cares as he smooths his hand along your soft thigh. He cares as he brings your leg up against his side and grinds his hips against you. He cares as he digs his dull nails into your flesh like the claws of a lion. He cares as he sinks his teeth into your bottom lip like the fangs of a wolf.

He definitely cares as he brings a strong hand to your hair and tangles his fingers there with every intention of tugging you back to see your face. You whimper lightly, sinking into it and pretending the burn of your scalp is just the heat of your desire.

I made my choice and every night I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow.

“You’re so pretty,” he smiles, and you fully understand the unspoken “like this” that follows his words but you choose to ignore it.

He kisses you again, this primal, devouring kiss you gladly mistake for ardor. He takes the bottom of your nightgown in his hand and pulls it up and over your head. You let him take it off of you. You let him strip you bare as his greedy hands smooth along the length of your body. Tentatively, not fully committed (you would be perfectly content with his lips on yours, kissing him forever under the illusion of simple intimacy), you pull at his belt. He undoes it and pulls it off entirely. You think he’ll toss it away, but it doesn’t.

“Open your mouth.”

Obediently, you do. He wraps the belt around your head, fitting it in your mouth as he loops it behind and pulls it tight. You nearly wince at the feeling, but he’s done worse. He unbuttons his pants, leaning down as he presses his lips to your neck. He kisses and sucks and nips at your throat, and you both let out deep moans that rumble in your chest when he presses inside of you.

You lean your head back, giving him more space to paint your neck in his claim. The taste of leather is strong on your tongue. Each breath you take is full of the earthy scent of his belt. You set your hands on his waist as he braces his fists on either side of your head. His thrusts are deep and rough. You feel his hips as he moves, his slender waist fits perfectly between your legs.

Your moans are muffled by his belt. As you dig your heels into his back, encouraging each thrust as he gives them, he grunts at the way you tighten around his cock. His hips snap into you with a greed that makes you crazy, that drives him wild. Taken by the pleasure, he grabbed the belt behind your head and pulled it in a way that made you look up at him.

His lips are plump from kissing you so roughly, his hair is loose and falling in delicate locks across his forehead, his breath fans gently across your own face. He looks pretty like this. Even with the predatory gaze in his eyes, he looks pretty. You want to kiss him but you don’t. You can’t.

He breath stutters in his throat after a particular thrust, and your eyes flutter shut as you moan at the feeling. He continues to fuck into you, like it’s the last time. There’s nothing gentle about it, nothing sweet or nice or careful. He fucks you to his own need, but knows you well enough that it would fill you with so much pleasure that it doesn’t matter if he does it for him.

And he knows you well enough that the lack of care he has in his thrusts fills you with so much longing that he doesn’t need physical pain to be sadistic.

He pulls out of you suddenly, his breath coming out in hot puffs as he leans back on his haunches. “Turn around,” he orders, though his voice is quieter—there’s no real need to bark with you.

Anyway you want me, baby, that’s the way you got me.

You do as you’re told, ignoring the discomfort in the loss of him inside of you as you sit up and move as quickly as you can with the sluggish nature of your desire for him mixing with your depletion. As soon as you’ve turned around, he doesn’t care to give you time to adjust to the new position before he’s grabbing the belt again, wrapping it around his fist, and taking your hip in his other hand as he shoves his cock into you once again.

You go to hang your head, the feeling too great, but you’re stopped by his grip of the belt. Setting the quickened pace at the beginning, he fucks into you fast and rough. The sound of his skin smacking against yours fills the room. A light sheen of sweat coats your body as the heat fills you inside and out. His name is muffled on your lips, but his grunts are clear in the air.

His hand on your waist circles around as he presses his fingers to your still-sensitive clit. He rubs fast circles against it, building you up, up, up. You can’t help but whine, you can’t help but feed his hunger as he fills you with pleasure. Your legs tremble, and with his skill, it isn’t long until he hurls you into your second orgasm.

You throw your head back and moan, the sound rough with your desperation. But he doesn’t stop. He isn’t finished. He fucks your sensitive cunt. His eyes flutter at the tightening of your cunt.

You feel so weak, tired from the exertion but not fully satisfied until you’ve given him all that he needs. You’ve been with this man for years and the conditioning settled in a long time ago.

I’ll be yours.

So, yes, he keeps going and keeps going and keeps going. He takes you on your back, he takes you on your hands and knees, he takes you against the wall (front and back), he takes you in his lap, and he never stops each time until you’ve come apart in his hands. Pent up with so much stress and spurred on by the fatigue in your eyes, he lasts through it all.

You don’t know how long you’ve been going by this point. All you know is the rhythm of his hips thrusting in and out and in and out as he pushes you down into the bed with your ass pulled up against his hips and your face buried in a pillow. His hands push against your back, keeping you down still. You can hear his breath, heavy with his own nearing exertion. His thrusts are beginning to lose their rhythm, becoming more and more desperate with his nearing release.

You can hardly keep your eyes open. All your breaths have been reduced to shallow whimpers, and as his finger presses against your clit again, a mewl slips from your throat as it pleads for relief and release alike. You hear him begin to curse under his breath, his thrusts rougher though not as steady. And he presses you further still as he moves closer, seeking his relief as it gets so close, he can taste it.

And, because you know him just as well as he knows you, you tip him over the edge as you let your lips part. Your voice is small and meek and whiny, a needy little cry that he hears because he craves it. “Coryo.”

“Oh, fuck,” he growls.

He fucks you hard in the first few seconds that he spills into you, his cum hot and plentiful as he moves himself farther against you as if he could go deeper still. And as his fingers flick at your clit, you accompany his needy moan with your own as you cum as well. You’re blinded by the feeling, left mewling as your eyes well with tired tears. It’s almost uncomfortable and you wince slightly when he presses a little too deep into you.

Coryo lingers there, his breath evening into a steadier rhythm as he eases off of you. You take in a full breath as he pulls out of you, closing your eyes and going limp against the sheets. Your body is so heavy, full of the exhaustion that has haunted you for years, exhaustion that comes with belonging to Coriolanus Snow. You wish you could slow down, take a breath, but whatever Snow wants, Snow gets.

My story’s gonna end with me dead from your poison.

Coryo runs a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. He picks your nightgown up from the floor and wipes the both of you clean with the smallest modicum of care. You feel his knuckles brush against your shoulder and you shiver as he lets it graze gently along your spine. He stops it at the dip of your back.

Coryo turns off your bedside lamp, crawling into the bed as he shifts behind you, a gentle hand falling to your side as he pulls you into his body. And you actually find comfort in his arms as he pulls you closely to his body. His head rests in the crook of your neck, your body is pulled flush against his. His warmth seeps into your skin and you let your eyes flutter shut as he pulls the covers over your bodies.

And for a moment, everything is perfect. For a moment, you trick yourself into believing that this man can be capable of love.

But you feel his arms tightening around you until your lungs are so tight that it’s nearly impossible to breathe. You feel his nails, eager and greedy, digging into your flesh, and you wince at the terrible sting of them. He pulls you closer, not just seeking your warmth, but seeking full control and possession over something that already belongs to him. You silence your whimper.

I’m drowning in poison. I keep fillin’ my glass but it’s always hollow, full of poison.

When you can get past the pain of his embrace, you manage to lull yourself to sleep. You rest in his clutch and indulge in the false security of his empty arms.

But your rest is short-lived. Because halfway through the night, he wakes. Coryo opens his eyes and loosens his hold on you. You rouse from your own sleep but you stay perfectly still with closed eyes and steady breath. He lets go of you completely, getting out of the bed and leaving the room with silent steps. He has work to do.

I’m sick of the poison.

Once the door is closed, you’re left cold and alone. You curl up in on yourself, turning your head into the pillow as you feel the dam break. And like an idiot, you cry into your pillow. Your chest stutters with all the pain and weariness and hopelessness you carry with you through the day, through the night. You let it out, but it never seems to fade. And as the fatigue takes over once more, you let it take you into a sleepless kind of sleep where your nightmare of holding love in your hands plays in your mind over and over and over again.

Wish I had something to live for tomorrow.

Coriolanus Snow taglist: @the-nerdy-goddess Tag yourself here...

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mattitties · 4 months

Text

sworn enemy - matt sturniolo

I don’t have many enemies in my life. I try to get along with most people, and even if I don’t like them, I do my best to be friendly no matter what. But there’s one person that I absolutely cannot stand: Matt Sturniolo.

I moved to LA about six months ago, and the triplets were some of the first people I met. I got close with Nick first, then Chris, and I attempted to get close with Matt, but he was so closed off and became outwardly rude to me every interaction we had. I have no idea why he hates me so much, but I will not tolerate him giving me that kind of attitude for no reason when I’ve tried to be his friend.

So I don’t try anymore. I’m over at their house more than I’m at mine, and I’ve gotten to the point of completely ignoring that asshole when he comes into the room. Is it rude to ignore someone in their own home? Sure, but none of this would be happening if he didn’t make it abundantly clear from day one that he has no interest in being my friend.

Nick and Chris invited me over tonight to watch a movie, so of course I accepted. Despite everything with Matt, I absolutely adore Nick and Chris and would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with them.

“Helloooo,” I say when I walk into the living room, where they’re already setting up the movie.

“Hey!” Nick smiles as he gives me a hug. “Movie’s almost ready, you wanna get some snacks?”

I nod and head to the kitchen, saying hello to Chris in the process. I’m so invested in rummaging through their fridge that I don’t even notice Matt walk into the room until he groans.

“Oh joy, look who’s here!” he says as I turn around.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you,” I tell him as I grab some drinks. “Just go back to your cave and it’ll be like I’m not even here!”

He rolls his eyes. “I can feel your presence even from there. Seriously, who invited her?”

“We did,” Chris says. “Come on dude, isn’t this getting a little old? It’s time to get over whatever dumb shit you have against her and grow up.”

Matt shakes his head as he takes a box of Goldfish to the couch. “Nah, I’m good. So what are we watching?”

“Oh, so now you wanna watch with us?” I ask. “Two seconds ago you were acting like it was the end of the world that I’m here.”

“Well, this is my house, and I should be able to watch a movie in my house even when little annoying creatures are sitting on my couch,” he smiles sarcastically at me.

I say nothing in response. He’s such a dick.

“Oh, before I forget, do you want to come to TopGolf tomorrow night with us and our friends?” Chris asks me.

“I wish, but I’m going to a bar tomorrow night with my roommate,” I tell him.

“No worries, we’ll go another time. Matt’s not going either because he’s just too good for all of us, isn’t that right Matt?” Chris teases and pokes Matt’s stomach, earning a punch to his upper arm from Matt.

I roll my eyes at Matt’s clear inability to have any fun and sit back as the movie begins.

I should not have gone out tonight. I’m having the worst night. I should have gone to TopGolf with Chris and Nick. All my life choices are being regretted.

My roommate is currently in the bathroom probably sucking some random guy off, and I have somehow gotten in the middle of two drunk guys fighting over god knows what. The place is crowded and I’m being swallowed in a sea of people as I desperately try to get away from the fight before punches start being thrown.

I’m unsuccessful.

In the midst of the chaos, one of the guys accidentally nails me right in the eye as he goes to hit the other. He doesn’t even notice and continues going after him, but other people do notice. I really wish they hadn’t. I want nothing more than to just get out of there.

I push my way to the entrance and ignore the small crowd of people following me and asking if I’m okay.

“I’m fine,” I tell them, speeding up and breathing a sigh of relief when I make it outside.

The pain in my eye doesn’t even register until I open my camera and see it: red, bloody, and already starting to swell. I’m tearing up, and I can’t tell if it’s from the pain or from the disaster that is tonight. I need to go home, but there’s no way I’m going back inside to get my roommate, and she definitely won’t see if I text or call her. I could Uber, but I’m terrified of Ubering alone, especially in Los Angeles at 11 PM. I don’t want to bother Nick and Chris while they’re out, even though I know they would drop everything to get me.

A pit in my stomach rises as I click Matt’s contact name and text him.

are you up? kind of in a situation here and need a ride

Bruh

Call someone else

i wouldn’t ask unless i really needed help

please

I hate how desperate I sound, especially to him, but I’m cold and scared and in pain, so at this point I really don’t care.

Jesus fine where are u

I send him my location and wait. He pulls up ten minutes later, and I do my best to hide my tear stained and bloody face as I get in the car.

“Thank you so much,” I tell him, trying to control my shaky voice. “I’m really sorry, I just–”

“Are you okay?” he asks. I’m barely looking at him, but I can feel him staring at me.

“Yeah, why?”

He turns my face towards him with his thumb. His eyes widen when he sees my eye, which definitely looks worse than it did 10 minutes ago. “Dude! What the fuck happened???”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” I tell him, my eyes starting to well up again.

“You’re not fine. What happened? Who did this to you?”

“Nobody did anything, I swear. Two guys were just fighting and I couldn’t move fast enough and I got hit. It’s my fault, but I’m fine. It doesn’t even hurt,” I explain unconvincingly as I start to cry.

“If it doesn’t hurt, why are you crying?”

“Because I just wanna go home, Matt! Can you just take me home?” I sob.

“Okay, okay,” he says gently as he switches gears to drive. “Can I take you to my house? We need to clean up that eye.”

I nod and look out the window as he drives us home. He is the absolute last person I want to see in this state. I know he’s going to use this against me in a few days and he’s never going to let me live it down.

When we get to the triplets’ house, I make a beeline for Matt’s bathroom and look at myself in the mirror.

“Oh my god,” I mumble. I look awful. My eye is completely swollen and it’s turning purple. I have a gash in my cheek. “Why the fuck did I go out tonight?” I say as Matt walks in behind me. “I have to go to work looking like this! I’m not gonna make any tips! People are gonna throw up looking at me!”

“Okay, calm down,” he tells me. “Sit on the toilet. I’m gonna clean it and get you some ice and then you can just chill here, okay?”

I nod and sit down on the toilet lid as he gets a cotton ball and some hydrogen peroxide. He tilts my chin up to look at him. “Little sting,” he mumbles. I scrunch my face at the feeling of the peroxide on the cut. “I know, I’m sorry, almost done.”

He dabs the cut a few times and throws the cotton ball out. “Come on,” he says, motioning me to get up. “Go lay down and I’ll get ice.”

I silently oblige and lay on his bed, giving him a small smile when he returns with some ice chunks in a ziplock bag covered in a paper towel.

“It’s the best I could do,” he says when he hands it to me. “We don’t have any actual ice packs.”

“It’s great, thank you.”

He lays down next to me and turns on the TV. I’m not even paying attention. All I can think about is trying not to ask the one thing I desperately want to know. I almost keep myself from saying it, until it just comes out of my mouth like word vomit.

“Why don’t you like me?”

He looks at me, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. “What?”

I immediately regret everything, but I ask again. “Why don’t you like me? I mean, Nick and Chris both like me, so I would assume you would too, but like… did I do something to you?”

He sits up and turns the TV off. “I dropped everything tonight to come save you from a bar. Why don’t you think I like you?”

“You’re just so mean to me. You have been since the day we met. And I don’t understand what I did to deserve that. If you don’t like me, that’s fine, I just want to know why.”

He doesn’t say anything for a moment. “I do like you. I never meant to make it seem like I don’t, I thought we were just playing around. Like friends tease each other, ya know?”

“Well yeah, but… you’ve never done anything to make me think we’re friends, so…”

“I’m sorry,” he says. He opens his mouth like he’s going to say something else, but then closes it.

“What?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Nothin. Do you want to stay here tonight? I can get you something to change into.”

“Oh,” I reply, completely taken aback by this. “Yeah… yeah, that would be nice. Thank you.”

He offers me a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt which I take into the bathroom and change into, discarding the ice pack in the process. I take another look in the mirror and sigh.

“God, I look fucking disgusting,” I say when I climb back into his bed.

“You look beautiful,” he says so quietly I have to double check if I even heard him correctly.

“Don’t tell me that just because you feel bad for me.”

“I’m not.” He turns on his side to face me. “You are beautiful.”

“Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?”

His eyes are moving between my eyes and my lips. I’m starting to put the pieces together, and it’s terrifying.

“Because I’m tired of pushing my feelings down and making it your problem,” he says. I don’t say anything, I just give him time to explain. “I didn’t want to like you because you were Nick and Chris’ friend first, and I didn’t want to ruin anything. I thought being a dick would make my feelings go away. It didn’t.”

“I like you, Matt,” I whisper. “I have since I first met you. It made me so sad to think that you didn’t like me. And I’m sorry I’ve also been mean to you.”

“Don’t be sorry, I deserved it,” he says. “Do you still hurt?”

I shake my head. “Not really.”

“Good,” he says before lightly holding my cheek and pressing a soft kiss to my lips. I freeze for a moment, not fully processing what’s happening, and then I hold his wrist and kiss him back, our lips moving perfectly together.

It’s clear that neither of us have any intention of taking it further tonight. We continue to kiss for just a couple minutes until we separate, doing nothing but staring into each others’ eyes.

“Goodnight, Matt,” I say.

“Goodnight.”

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader

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jockbroski34 · 5 months

Text

New Year's Resolution

Hey bros, Happy New Year's! I hope you all make this year your best yet and I hope you all reach your goals. I came up with a short story on the fly to ring in the new year. Hope you guys didn't party too hard like these two!

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Before I knew it, 2024 was almost here. Everyone always says that next year will be their year, but few people actually end up following through with their New Year's resolutions. Some people want to make more money, some might want to quit smoking, but me? I just wanna get jacked, bro. I know how it goes though. People go to the gym for a week, then are unable to keep up with that lifestyle. But I can do it, and I will. I felt a sense of determination with the desire to get in shape.

I found myself at a New Year's party. One of my co-workers invited me. I didn't know most of the people there, but I didn't have any plans so I decided to go, because why not? My friends barely have time for me anyways. A lot of them have started to settle down and some decided to have smaller celebrations with their spouses or are visiting family.

I was sitting on the couch when a guy I've never met sat down next to me and greeted me. He told me his name was Mike. He was my age, wearing a backwards hat, tank top, and shorts. Not exactly the best look for the winter, but he looked just like a fuckboy who partied all day every day. He probably just wears this every day just to show off his muscles and pick up chicks. He started chatting me up about the party and about the football game that was on the TV. I didn't really know anything about sports, but it was what was on so I played along, not wanting to be rude. He asked me what my New Year's resolution was. I said I wanted to get jacked. He seemed confident that I could do it. He downed what had to have been his third beer so far before asking if I wanted another drink as well. His breath stank with the scent of beer.

I said sure. As long as it got this dude away from me for a minute or two. I might tolerate him more if I was drunk anyways since it didn't seem like he was going anywhere anytime soon. He came back carrying two bottles of the same type of beer. We made a toast for the new year and chugged our beers. As I drank, I started to realize that Mike wasn't that bad for a dudebro. He was actually really chill. I ended up asking for his number so we can get drinks sometime. He said he knows some good bars nearby and he didn't live too far from me.

He asked me what my New Year's resolution is. He already asked me that though? His memory must not be the best since he was drunk. I told him I wanted to be jacked, kinda like him. He chuckled a dumb laugh, drunk from the excessive amount of alcohol he drank tonight.

"What do you mean? You're already jacked, bro."

I was confused at first. I didn't have a lot of muscle.

"Look at yourself dude."

I thought he was fucking with me until I looked down. My biceps felt like they were throbbing, burning as they seemingly increased in size. I panicked, running to the bathroom, unsure of whether I wanted to check out my new gains or find a way to stop the aching burn in my muscles. I looked at myself in the mirror, and flexed. I wasn't hallucinating. I was just as jacked as the bro I was drinking with. I stripped down. I realized that I had a six pack as well. The dude from before knocks before entering the bathroom with me.

"You good bro?"

"What the fuck did you do to me?" I asked, overwhelmed by my new body.

"You said you wanted to be jacked, so I made you jacked. I put something in your drink, and now you're huge. Isn't that what you wanted, dude?"

I couldn't deny that. I wasn't sure whether to feel grateful to him or mad at him for doing this without my consent. He could've even drugged me further. Before I could comprehend everything, he grabbed my shoulder, pulling me in for a picture, showing off our ripped bodies.

"Hey, try my hat on. I wanna see how you look in it now."

He tossed me the hat he was wearing, but I didn't wear hats. I took care of my hair and I didn't want my hair to get messy. I wanted to look professional, not like a frat bro. Despite that, I found myself wanting to put it on, and so I did. To my surprise, I even turned it backwards just like my best bud. Best bud? I didn't really have a best friend. But Mike was my new best friend. We met at my co-worker's New Year's party and we hit it off really well. I needed a new workout partner to help me stay consistent, so he offered to take me with him every day. He's actually looking for a new roommate so I might move in with him since we get along so well. Makes it more convenient since we plan to hang out and party all the time in the coming year.

I start to realize that my mannerisms are changing, starting to match his. Before I was uptight and professional, a total bore. Now I’m an outgoing, party-loving dudebro. I felt my penis grow erect in my pants and start leaking as I became as horny as Mike, with my length growing to a sexy 9 inches to go alongside his. I doubt that I could pull as much as him with my old size.

"You feeling better, bro?"

"Yeah dude. I feel great! Let's pound some more brewskis and fuck a baddie or two."

"That's what I'm talking about!" Mike gave me a high-five. "You can keep the hat by the way. A memory of the day we met, bro."

And keep it I did. I decided I would wear it everywhere, especially when I was out with him and his bros. I would fit perfectly in with them in a way that my old self would have never.

We returned to the party with even more beers in our hands, and me and Mike chugged every last one of them. We drank the most beers out of anyone in the party combined. My coworker caught the two of us causing a scene and kicked us out. He almost didn't recognize me at first, but after seeing me with him, he started to put two and two together. He told Mike that this is why he doesn’t invite him anywhere. I thought my coworker would tell my boss about my conduct, but I didn't really care what happens. It's not my fault I’m a party animal.

"What a buzzkill," Mike said. "Whatever. Let's go back to my place. I took a box of beer with us to finish as we left. They aren't gonna finish themselves."

Midnight was still a few hours away, and all of his bros were at other parties anyways. We sat down on his messy couch and finished what was left of the beers, cheering on our team and playing loud music. Didn't matter where we were or who we were with, we were the life of the party. My bro became pent up after not being able to get any action tonight and so was I. I offered to suck him off. After all, it's not gay to suck a homie off, and so we got off together. Getting head from him was almost as good as a hot babe. I’ve never had a guy blow me before. Neither of us could tell the other how much we really enjoyed it without the fear of being called gay.

After we both released our loads, we passed out from all the alcohol we drank, him on top of me. I don't think I ever drank this much in my life, and it was just one night. We woke up, looking like a total mess on the couch. Damn, we slept past midnight. I was still wearing his hat. I thought I would wake up and find out this was all a dream, but nah. I’m still Mike’s douchey best friend. But I smiled, knowing that we would always have each other’s back.

"Happy New Year’s, bro." I said.

"Happy New Year’s! Now tell me your real New Year's resolution, dude?" Mike answered, obviously hungover.

"I wanna party and fuck all year long!"

"Fuck yeah, bro!" He gave me a strong, brotherly hug. He told me about a rager that one of his friends was hosting tonight. All of his bros are invited and so am I, and some hot babes are gonna be there. This was the life I always wished I had, and this year, it will be my life.

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estapa-edwards · 1 month

Text

FAKE BOYFRIEND - J. HUGHES

paring: Jack Hughes x fem! reader

word count:3.6k

requested? no

warnings: use of y/n.

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The ringing of my phone pulled me out of my reverie. Glancing at the screen, I saw it was my cousin, Sarah, calling. With a sigh, I answered, knowing exactly what the conversation would entail.

"Hey, Sarah," I greeted, trying to sound upbeat.

"Hey, Y/N! I was just finalizing the wedding arrangements and wanted to know if you're bringing a plus-one?" Her voice was filled with excitement.

The question wasn’t unexpected. My family, as loving and supportive as they were, had a knack for reminding me about my perpetual single status at every family gathering.

"Um, well…" I hesitated, trying to think of a polite way to say no without inviting further scrutiny.

Sarah, sensing my hesitation, quickly added, "You know, it doesn’t have to be serious. Just someone to keep you company and make the day more enjoyable."

I sighed, "I know, Sarah. It's just... I haven’t found the right person yet."

There was a pause on the other end. "Okay, I get it," she said softly. "But you know how the family is going to be, right? They’re going to ask questions, judge, and probably set you up with someone."

My heart sank at the thought. I loved my family dearly, but their constant nagging about my love life was exhausting.

"I know," I murmured.

Before the conversation could continue, a familiar voice interrupted from behind me. "Hey, Y/N, who's causing you grief now?"

I turned around to find Jack Hughes, my close friend since elementary shcool, standing in my living room with a concerned expression on his face. We had been through thick and thin together, always there for one another. He was the kind of guy who would drop everything to help a friend in need.

"Hey, Jack," I said, forcing a smile. "Just the usual family stuff, you know?"

He raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to it. "Want to talk about it?"

I hesitated for a moment, debating whether or not to share my family drama with him. But then, recalling all the times he had been there for me, I decided to spill. "Sarah wants me to bring a date to her wedding. The family's been on my case about being single for so long, and I just don't want to deal with their judgment."

Jack chuckled lightly, "Well, I might have a solution for you."

I looked at him curiously. "Oh?"

"How about I be your date for the wedding?" he proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

I stared at him, taken aback by the suggestion. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah, why not?" he shrugged. "We're already close friends, and it’s not like we haven’t pretended to be a couple before."

He wasn’t wrong. We had often joked about being the perfect fake couple, given our compatibility and understanding of each other. But this was different. This was my family, and the idea of introducing Jack as my boyfriend felt strange, yet oddly comforting.

"You’d do that for me?" I asked, my voice wavering slightly.

"Of course," he replied, his smile genuine. "Anything to save you from the family inquisition."

I couldn’t help but smile back at him. "Alright, deal."

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The twinkling lights and festive decorations of the office Christmas party created a warm and inviting atmosphere. Colleagues mingled, laughing and sharing stories, while holiday music played softly in the background.

Jack and I had arrived together, opting to carpool to the event. As we entered the room, I spotted my overly curious coworker, Karen, who had a habit of prying into my personal life.

"Y/N! So glad you could make it. And who is this handsome gentleman?" Karen had asked, her eyes scanning Jack appreciatively.

Not wanting to delve into the intricacies of my love life with Karen, I turned to Jack and smiled. "Jack, this is Karen, my coworker. Karen, meet Jack, my… boyfriend."

Jack caught on quickly, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and pulling me close. "Nice to meet you, Karen," he said smoothly, flashing her a charming smile.

Karen’s eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting the revelation. "Nice to meet you too, Jack. Y/N, you never mentioned you had a boyfriend!"

I shrugged, trying to keep the act going. "Well, you know how it is. We’ve been keeping things low-key."

Jack played along, sharing playful glances and inside jokes throughout the evening. It was yet another successful performance, and by the end of the night, even Karen was convinced of our faux relationship.

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The setting sun painted the sky in hues of orange and pink as Jack and I drove towards the hotel where we would be staying for the weekend getaway. The atmosphere inside the car was relaxed, with soft music playing in the background and the gentle hum of the engine providing a comforting backdrop to our conversation.

As we approached the hotel, I felt a sudden wave of nervousness wash over me. Thoughts of the weekend ahead, sharing a room with Jack, and the realization of our growing feelings for each other made my heart race and palms sweaty.

Sensing my anxiety, Jack glanced over at me with concern. "You okay, Y/N? You seem a bit tense."

I tried to brush off his observation with a forced smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous about the weekend, I guess."

Jack pulled the car into the hotel's driveway and parked the car. Turning to face me, he reached out to gently take my hand in his. "Hey, it's okay. We're in this together, remember?"

I looked into his eyes, finding comfort in their warmth and sincerity. "I know, Jack. It's just... this whole situation is new to me, and I don't want things to be awkward between us."

Jack squeezed my hand reassuringly. "Y/N, we've been friends for years, and we know each other better than anyone else. We can handle this. And if things get too uncomfortable, we'll figure it out together."

His words were comforting, and I felt my nerves begin to settle. Taking a deep breath, I nodded. "You're right. We can do this."

Jack smiled, releasing my hand and reaching for our bags in the backseat. "Let's go check in and start our weekend adventure."

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As we walked towards the hotel entrance, I spotted my mom and my aunt, Sarah's mom, standing near the lobby. Their eyes widened in surprise as they watched us approach, clearly taken aback by our close proximity and seemingly intimate interaction.

My heart sank as I realized they had seen us walking in together. The nervousness I had felt earlier returned in full force, and I could feel my cheeks turning red with embarrassment.

Jack, sensing my discomfort, gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "Stay calm, Y/N," he whispered, offering me a supportive smile.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to muster up some courage as we reached my mom and aunt. "Hey, Mom, Aunt Susan," I greeted, trying to sound as casual as possible.

My mom looked us up and down, her eyes filled with curiosity. "Y/N, Jack, what a surprise to see you two together. Are you...?"

Before she could finish her sentence, Jack stepped in smoothly, "Yes, we're together. We thought it was time to let everyone know about our relationship."

I looked at Jack in surprise, not expecting him to take the initiative and declare our faux relationship so convincingly. He winked at me, reassuring me that he had everything under control.

My aunt Susan looked shocked but quickly recovered, offering us a smile. "Well, that's wonderful news! We're happy for you both."

My mom seemed skeptical but nodded, choosing to reserve her judgment for later. "Alright, if you say so. Just make sure you take care of each other."

Jack nodded earnestly. "Of course, Mrs. Y/LN. Y/N means the world to me."

Feeling a mix of relief and gratitude, I thanked Jack silently for his quick thinking and support. As we said our goodbyes and headed towards the check-in counter, I couldn’t help but feel grateful for Jack’s unwavering support and our ability to navigate awkward situations with ease

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After completing the check-in process, Jack and I made our way to our hotel room. As we entered the room and took a quick look around, we both realized something that had been overlooked in our haste to plan this getaway - there was only one bed.

We stood there for a moment, exchanging awkward glances, each of us processing the situation and unsure of how to address it.

Jack broke the silence, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "Uh, looks like there's been a little mix-up with the room arrangement."

I nodded, trying to maintain a calm demeanor despite the sudden surge of anxiety I felt. "Yeah, it seems that way. I can call the front desk and see if they can switch us to a room with two beds."

Jack quickly shook his head, "No, it's okay. We can make do with this. We've shared beds before on trips and stuff, right?"

He was right. We had shared hotel rooms on numerous occasions during our travels with friends, and it had never been an issue. But this time felt different, more intimate, given the nature of our pretend relationship.

Taking a deep breath to quell my nerves, I agreed. "Alright, let's just make the best of it. We can take turns using the bathroom to change and stuff."

Jack smiled, relieved that I was willing to go along with the unexpected situation. "Sounds like a plan."

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Lying side by side in the dimly lit room, the soft glow from the bedside lamp casting a warm hue over us, the atmosphere felt intimate and comforting. The earlier tension from the unexpected room arrangement had dissipated, replaced by a shared understanding and connection between Jack and me.

After a few moments of silence, Jack turned to face me, his eyes filled with concern. "Y/N, I couldn't help but notice how uncomfortable you seemed earlier when we ran into your mom and aunt. Is everything okay?"

I sighed, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me. "It's just... my family can be so judgmental sometimes, especially when it comes to my love life or lack thereof. I know they mean well, but their constant prying and comments can be really hurtful."

Jack reached out, gently taking my hand in his. "I'm sorry you have to deal with that, Y/N. You deserve to be accepted and loved for who you are, without any judgment or criticism."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I felt the weight of Jack's words and the comfort of his presence. "Thank you, Jack. It means a lot to hear you say that."

He squeezed my hand reassuringly. "You're an amazing person, Y/N, and anyone would be lucky to have you in their life. Don't let anyone make you feel otherwise."

I looked into Jack's sincere eyes, feeling a sense of gratitude and understanding. "You've always been there for me, Jack, supporting me and lifting me up when I'm feeling down. I don't know what I would do without you."

Jack smiled softly, brushing a stray hair behind my ear. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N, no matter what. We've been through a lot together, and I cherish our friendship and the bond we share."

I nodded, feeling comforted and grateful for Jack's unwavering support. "I cherish it too, Jack. And who knows, maybe one day I'll find someone who truly appreciates and loves me for who I am."

Jack looked at me intently, his expression unreadable for a moment before he spoke. "Y/N, you're amazing just the way you are. And whoever ends up with you will be the luckiest person in the world."

Feeling a mix of emotions, I smiled at Jack, appreciating his kind words and the genuine connection we shared. "Thank you, Jack. That means more to me than you'll ever know."

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The first rays of morning light streamed through the gaps in the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. I slowly began to stir, feeling an unfamiliar warmth and comfort surrounding me. As my eyes fluttered open, I realized that I was cuddled up against Jack, his arms wrapped securely around me.

For a moment, I lay there, savoring the unexpected intimacy and comfort of our embrace. Memories of our vulnerable conversation from the previous night flooded back, deepening the connection I felt with Jack.

Carefully, I tried to extricate myself from his grasp without waking him, but as I moved, Jack began to stir, his eyes blinking open sleepily.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice husky with sleep.

"Morning," I replied, blushing slightly at our close proximity.

We both looked down at our intertwined bodies, a hint of embarrassment and amusement coloring the moment.

"Looks like we ended up cuddling in our sleep," Jack observed with a chuckle.

"Yeah, seems like it," I replied, laughing softly. "Guess we're comfortable enough with each other to do that without even realizing it."

Jack smiled, his eyes warm and affectionate. "I guess so. I hope you're not too uncomfortable with it."

I shook my head, feeling a sense of contentment and happiness. "No, not at all. It was actually really nice."

We lay there for a few more moments, basking in the warmth and comfort of our cuddle, before finally deciding to start our day.

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The morning was spent leisurely, with Jack and me joining my family for breakfast at the hotel's dining area. As we walked in together, hand in hand, I could feel the surprised and curious glances from my family members.

"Good morning, everyone," Jack greeted warmly, flashing a genuine smile.

"Morning, you two," my mom responded, still trying to adjust to the idea of Jack and me as a couple.

Throughout the breakfast, Jack made sure to engage with my family members, sharing stories, cracking jokes, and showcasing a genuine interest in their lives. His natural charm and wit quickly won them over, and by the end of the meal, even my most skeptical relatives seemed convinced of our faux relationship.

After breakfast, we spent the day exploring the city with my family, visiting local attractions, enjoying delicious meals, and creating memorable experiences together. Jack continued to play the part of the doting boyfriend flawlessly, offering me his jacket when I was cold, holding my hand as we walked, and stealing affectionate glances when he thought no one was looking.

At one point, I shivered slightly in the cool air-conditioned room. Without hesitation, Jack draped his jacket over my shoulders, his touch gentle and caring. I looked up to find him smiling down at me, his eyes warm and comforting.

"Better?" he whispered, his voice soft and soothing.

"Much better, thanks," I replied, feeling a sense of warmth not just from the jacket but also from Jack's thoughtful gesture.

Later in the afternoon, we stopped at a local café for lunch. As we sat down at a cozy corner table, Jack took the initiative to order for both of us, choosing some of the café's popular dishes and ensuring there were options that I would enjoy.

Throughout the meal, Jack made an effort to engage in conversations with my family, sharing amusing anecdotes and stories that had everyone laughing and enjoying the meal even more. His ability to connect with people and make them feel comfortable was truly impressive.

After lunch, we headed to a beautiful botanical garden. As we wandered through the lush gardens, Jack reached out to hold my hand, his touch reassuring and comforting. We strolled together, admiring the vibrant flowers and serene surroundings, our conversation flowing naturally and effortlessly.

At one point, Jack pulled me aside to a secluded spot overlooking a tranquil pond. "This place is beautiful, isn't it?" he said, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the scene before us.

"It's stunning," I agreed, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over me. “Just like you.” Jack whispered.

I looked up at Jack, surprised by his comment. His eyes were sincere, reflecting the beauty of the scene around us and the warmth of his affection for me.

"Thank you, Jack," I whispered back, feeling a flutter in my heart at his words. "That's really sweet of you to say."

He smiled softly, his gaze lingering on me. "I meant it, Y/N. You bring light and beauty into my life, just like this garden brings peace and tranquility to this place."

Feeling a deep connection and warmth from his words, I leaned in closer, savoring the intimacy of the moment we shared. "You have a way with words, you know that?"

Jack chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Only when I'm inspired."

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The dinner was set in a cozy, dimly lit restaurant, with soft jazz music playing in the background. The ambiance was warm and inviting, and the table was filled with laughter and chatter as my family and Jack enjoyed their meal.

As the evening progressed, the topic of conversation shifted to relationships and dating experiences, a subject that always seemed to make my family curious and playful, often at my expense.

"So, Y/N, is Jack your first boyfriend?" my cousin Emily asked, a teasing glint in her eye.

"Yeah, Y/N, tell us, is Jack your first?" my other cousin, Mike, chimed in, joining in on the fun.

Feeling the familiar sting of embarrassment and the weight of their teasing, I tried to brush off the question with a smile. "Well, Jack is my first 'official' boyfriend," I replied, trying to keep my voice steady.

The room erupted in playful laughter, and I could feel the color rising in my cheeks.

Trying to lighten the mood and divert the attention, Jack leaned in, "Well, I must say, I consider myself incredibly lucky to be Y/N's first. She's an amazing person, and I couldn’t ask for a better partner."

Feeling the warmth of Jack's supportive words and the lingering sting of the teasing, I tried to maintain a calm exterior. But inside, I was struggling to keep my composure.

Sensing my discomfort, Jack discreetly reached under the table, placing his hand gently on my thigh. His touch was reassuring and grounding, providing the comfort and support I needed in that moment.

I felt a wave of gratitude wash over me as I looked into Jack's eyes, finding understanding and empathy in his gaze.

"Thank you, Jack," I whispered, my voice trembling slightly.

He gave my thigh a reassuring squeeze and offered me a comforting smile, "Anytime, Y/N."

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

The day of the wedding dawned bright and clear, with the promise of a beautiful ceremony ahead. As I got ready in my hotel room, I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. Today was the day I had been dreading due to the constant nagging from my family about my love life, but with Jack by my side, I felt more at ease.

When Jack arrived at my hotel room to accompany me to the wedding, he looked stunning in his tailored suit. His eyes brightened as he took in my appearance.

"You look absolutely breathtaking, Y/N," he complimented, his eyes filled with admiration.

"Thank you, Jack," I replied, blushing slightly at his compliment. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

As we made our way to the venue, Jack continued to be the perfect date, holding my hand, offering me words of encouragement, and making me laugh with his witty remarks. Despite the pressure and scrutiny from my family, Jack's presence made everything more bearable.

During the ceremony, as we stood side by side, I noticed Jack stealing glances at me when he thought I wasn’t looking. There was something different about his gaze today, something deeper and more intense, filled with emotions he hadn’t shown before.

Throughout the reception, Jack was attentive and caring, making sure I was comfortable and enjoying myself. As we danced together, I could feel the warmth and tenderness of his embrace, and for the first time, I began to see a glimpse of the depth of his feelings for me.

As the night progressed, and the champagne flowed, Jack's inhibitions began to wane. During a slow dance, he pulled me close, his eyes searching mine with a vulnerability I had never seen before.

"Y/N," he whispered, his voice shaky, "you mean more to me than you'll ever know."

Caught off guard by his confession, I looked into his eyes, searching for clarity and understanding. There was a depth and sincerity in his gaze that left me speechless, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still between us.

Feeling a rush of emotions, I replied softly, "Jack, you mean a lot to me too." “Lets not pretend anymore.”

"You're right," Jack murmured, his voice filled with conviction. "Let's not pretend anymore. I want us to be real, Y/N. I want us to be together, truly together."

I nodded, feeling a deep sense of relief and happiness. "I want that too, Jack. I'm tired of pretending and hiding how I feel. I want us to be genuine with each other and with the world."

Jack smiled, his eyes shining with love and sincerity. "Then let's make it official. Let's be a real couple, in every sense of the word."

Feeling a surge of joy and excitement, I hugged Jack tightly, burying my face in his chest. "I would love nothing more, Jack. I'm ready to start this new chapter with you."

As we stood there, holding each other close, I felt a sense of completeness and contentment wash over me.

#jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nj devils #new jersey devils #jack hughes

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 8 months

Text

"I'd do anything" (M)

Summary:

Desperate to expunge your squeaky clean record you go to Jeonghan and tell him you’ll do anything if he’ll get you drugs

Tags: dubcon, bad reputation!Jeonghan, good student!yn, afab yn, anal, bribing, begging, creampie, rough sex, mean!jeonghan, impact!play, safewords made but never used, yn is a virgin, but really just so jeonghan can tease them for it, teasing, virginity is taken very not seriously, multiple orgasms?, fingering, a dash of exhibitionism cause yeah, condescending!jeonghan, this is not realistic okay, *squint* talks of aftercare, drugs are mentioned

But Brie, this isn’t an accurate representation of someone losing their virginity, but brie why is Jeonghan so rough and mean, but brie why can’t you think of any other way to describe someone “getting hot” or “turning red” BECAUSE…. BECAUSE…. SHUT UP OKAY?!

You couldn’t help the way that you paced back and forth in front of Jeonghan’s dorm room door, trying to figure out if this was really the move. After all, wasn’t all of this a bit much?

Yes, in elementary school you had preened under the attention of being the good kid. Even in middle school you had enjoyed being what everyone considered to be the teacher’s pet, but when you hit high school… It got old. You were so tired of the way that people would talk to you. The way that they looked down on you because, you actually studied during your free period, and because your teachers trusted you to run errands for them during class.

You weren’t just some good kid who was constantly doing the right thing. You weren’t just interested in studying all the time. You wanted to be invited to parties. You wanted to have friends who you went drinking with.

But your reputation in high school was set. Unwavering. So, you thought you would just wait until college and finally you would be free.

And then college was the same.

You had to do something drastic. You were desperate to get your reputation expunged.

And so that’s why you were here.

“Look at who it is…”

You jumped, your teeth biting into the back of your hand as you screwed your eyes shut, trying to shake the pure fear out of your body at having been caught… Here. By just the person that you were trying to see.

“Ah… Jeonghan!” You said, raising your hand to the back of your neck.

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you, a few strands of his long dark hair falling in his face. You swallowed hard under his watchful gaze, turning your eyes away from him. That… Was quite the mistake. Suddenly you found yourself pressed up against Jeonghan’s door, his hand pressed by your hand on the door, his other hand on his doorknob. You swallowed hard at having suddenly been pressed up against the wall. Like you were in a fucking anime.

You didn’t really… Know Jeonghan all that well. You knew about as much as everyone did. Rumored to have mafia connections. Quiet… Mostly kept to himself, staying only around a select few.

You hadn’t ever heard of him actually doing anything that really labeled him as a bad boy, but he had the label none-the-less.

Maybe it came from this: His cocky behavior.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Jeonghan asked, a smile flickering across his lips. “Wasn’t expecting our school’s star student coming knocking on the black sheep’s door.”

You swallowed, and you were pretty sure the sound was audible.

“Do you live here?” You asked with a laugh. “I had no clue.”

Jeonghan stared at you. You sucked in another breath.

“I need drugs.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and he pulled back a little. He stared at you for a few seconds, clearly unsure of what to say. Then he pulled all the way back and nudged your shoulder with his.

“Ha.”

You stumbled to the side as Jeonghan opened his dorm room door, and you watched for a few seconds in confusion before realizing that Jeonghan was just going to leave you out in his hallway. You pushed between him and his opening bedroom door.

“I’m serious,” you blurted insistently. “I need drugs.”

“What are you going to do with drugs?” Jeonghan asked you back. “You wouldn’t even know how to use them.”

Frustration strummed through you.

“Yes, I would, you just… Smoke weed or whatever,” you insisted. “And like, you shoot heroin with a needle.”

“You’re asking for heroin?” Jeonghan asked back.

“I’m asking for marijuana!” You blurted back. Even as you spoke Jeonghan was placing the palm of his hand to your mouth. You protested adamantly as he pushed you back into his dorm room. You stumbled upon no longer being pressed against the door and Jeonghan shut his dorm room behind you.

“Marijuana,” Jeonghan said, in a mocking tone. “Is not exactly legal here. It’s not easy to come by. And why do you think that I would be able to get it for you.”

He locked his door with a click.

“Or even want to get it for you.”

“Well…” You trailed off. “I mean…” You had no real reason to think that Jeonghan could get this for you. And you had no bargaining tricks to actually get him to get you the drugs either. Your mind raced as you tried to figure out what you could say. What a good thing to convince him would be.

“I’ll let you fuck me.”

Silence filled the room. Jeonghan’s eyes trailed down your body as you began to burn a deep red. You swallowed hard, wondering what was making you so impulsive. I’ll let you fuck me? What the fuck kind of proposition was that?

His eyes made their way back up your body and he put his hands on his hips, bunching his baggy white shirt up with it. He opened his mouth, surely to reject you.

“Anywhere,” you blurted back instead. “You can fuck me anywhere you want. Men like that right?”

Jeonghan seemed even more thrown off by your words.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Anal.”

Oh my god, you wished you would just shut up.

“You would let me fuck you in the ass?” Jeonghan asked. You couldn’t tell if he was amused or not. You firmly pressed your lips together so that you wouldn’t say anything else stupid. You gave him one curt nod.

Silence fell between you and Jeonghan as he stared you down, but you refused to back down from whatever he was trying to get you to back down from.

Finally, he sighed, looking away from you.

“Why didn’t you just go to Hansol?” He asked you. As he spoke, he guided you over to his bed, pushing you down on it. You watched him with the innocence of… Well, the good kid that everyone always painted you as. You moved your hands to your lap, watching as he walked to the complete opposite end of his dorm. He took a seat on his roommate’s bed, propping his elbows up on his knees. He was… The very definition of man spreading.

You suddenly remembered that he had asked you a question.

“I…” You weren’t really certain of how to answer. Why hadn’t you just gone to Hansol? Everyone on campus knew that Hansol was a stoner and if Hansol was a stoner then he would certainly know where to buy you something.

And Hansol was a really sweet guy. If you were to ask him there would be no question on whether or not he would help you achieve your goal.

“I don’t know Hansol that well,” you finally said. Jeonghan let his head rest on his knuckles.

“And you know me better?” He pressed. Your fingers dug into your pants, your teeth catching the inside of your mouth nervously. “Why do you even want drugs?”

Now that was a question you could answer.

“I’m tired of my reputation.” You blurted. “Tired of everyone talking to me like I’m some innocent kid just because I get good grades and I’m nice to teachers. I’m not perfect, I don’t need to be babied.”

Jeonghan hummed.

“Well, despite your adamancy you are innocent,” he stated. You glared at him, fingers pinching your thighs through your pants.

“I’m not innocent,” you pressed.

“Yes, you are,” Jeonghan argued back, his lips quirking up at the sight of your frustration. “And that’s why you came here. Isn’t it?”

“I came here to ask you to get me drugs,” you said back.

“Well, I won’t get you any,” Jeonghan replied just as evenly. Your eyes widened at the flat-out denial of your request.

“But-!” You stood up without really thinking. “Jeonghan I’ll do anything.”

Jeonghan’s eyebrows quirked.

“Seriously! Anything you want Jeonghan. You can do anything you want to me, I’m serious. I’d-”

“Is that not prostitution?” Jeonghan asked. Your mouth dropped open, and once again he had left you stuped.

“What?”

“It just seems like you’re trying to sell your body to me,” Jeonghan pointed out. He pulled himself up a little bit, raising his eyes to make your gaze more even now that you were standing. He leaned back on his hands and his head fell to the side a bit. “In that case you would be bribing me to commit a crime by trying to get me to commit a different crime.”

Your jaw stayed open.

“I just thought-” God, what kind of guy even was Jeonghan? “If you’re not going to do it then just tell me you aren’t going to do it.”

“I already told you I wasn’t going to do it,” Jeonghan replied calmly.

At this point, your heart was racing and your face was burning red. Every part of you wanted to just storm out angrily, and Jeonghan seemed to read that in your eyes.

“What’s wrong angel, did I make you mad?” He asked. “You’re used to getting everything that you want, aren’t you?”

If it was possible your face burned even hotter.

“That’s not true.”

“Then why are you still here?” Jeonghan pressed. He got up to his feet, reminding you of your unfortunate height difference. He walked back over to you and his fingers buried into your hair. He tugged your hair at its roots so that you were forced to look up at him.

You felt your mouth go dry.

“You said you aren’t innocent, but you are and that’s why you really came here today,” Jeonghan said. He once again looked you up and down, a small humming leaving his throat as he stared at you.

“You wanted me to come expunge your record. You wanted to prove to everyone that you truly are in fact no longer innocent. You knew that if you asked Hansol he would let you smoke with him. And you also knew that to get what you want you don’t even have to smoke weed.”

Jeonghan shifted his weight, but he didn’t loosen his grip.

“You could do something as innocent as start smoking cigarettes and people would start to look at you differently. All you have to do to get those is go to the closest gas station.

Jeonghan leaned forward a bit, his face growing closer to yours. He smiled as your eyes flickered down to his lips.

“You want me to take your virginity.”

Your eyes widened.

“I’m not a virgin.”

He laughed.

“No?” He clearly didn’t believe you. “And I suppose I was wrong about everything before too.”

Jeonghan’s head tilted down a little bit and you let your head tilt up a bit too, your brain lost in a haze, thinking that he was going to kiss you. Jeonghan’s lips were so close to yours.

“Got you.”

Your face burned.

“This doesn’t mean I’m a virgin,” you murmured. Jeonghan’s fingers released your hair, and he took a step back from you. You cleared your throat, brushing your fingers through your strands in order to tidy yourself back up again.

“I’m not going to take your virginity,” Jeonghan said pointedly. “Why did you think that I was going to do it anyways?”

“What do you want me to do then?” You asked, finally relinquishing to the idea that you were in fact a virgin. “You want me to go to someone else? Let some other person take my virginity and then come back to you and beg you to buy me drugs.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widened a bit.

“Don’t just ask people to take your virginity,” he blurted. “And just ask Hansol. I’ll call you for him.”

Jeonghan took a few steps away from you in order to get his phone out. He started to mess with it, but you just huffed.

“Well, is there something wrong with me then?” You demanded. “Is that what it is? I’m too innocent to fuck.”

Jeonghan laughed dryly, not looking up at you as he presumably pulled up Hansol’s contact.

“You being too innocent isn’t why I won’t fuck you.”

You snatched his phone out of his hands, forcing him to look at you .

“Then why?” You prodded. Jeonghan shifted his weight, propping one of his hands on his hip.

“Because I’m not going to go easy on you just because it’s your first time. If you taunt me with being able to fuck any hole on you, I’m going to do it. No hesitation.”

“But you are hesitating,” you grumbled. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“You don’t want me to?”

You let silence fill the room at his question, which made him smile.

“You’re hesitating,” he pointed out.

“Just fuck me,” you insisted. “Please.”

Jeonghan put a single finger to your forehead and leaned forward.

“Rules.”

Your eyes zeroed in on his finger.

“One: You can’t tell anyone,” he said. “I don’t want people on my ass for being the ‘bad boy’-” He used air quotations. “- who took your virginity.”

Your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“Okay.”

“Two: You’ll tell me if you’re uncomfortable with anything that is happening,” he replied firmly. “I may be… Rough but I’m not heartless. It’s your first time if you need me to go… Slower…”

He seemed to be a bit bothered as he said that. You could tell that he was rethinking whether or not he wanted to actually take your virginity.

“Just say something,” he finally said. “Seriously, no shame.”

“It’s not going to bother me,” you protested. “Just cause it’s my first time doesn’t mean that I won’t… Like it.”

Jeonghan’s finger pressed harder into your forehead.

“You don’t know what I’m into,” you said.

Jeonghan hummed and then spoke a word. Your eyebrows furrowed and you repeated it in confusion. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“It’s your safe word,” he stated plainly. “I’ll stop if you just say stop, but if that’s uncomfortable to you for some reason-”

“I know what a safe word is,” you interrupted him. Feeling a bit annoyed. “I told you. You don’t know what I’m into.”

Jeonghan didn’t look entirely convinced.

“Three… You have to beg for it and prove you really want it.”

Your face burned under his gaze, not entirely sure what he wanted you to say. Sure, you had read tons of stories about this, and watched a handful of videos where someone had to beg but… To actually have to do it.

“I’m not patient,” Jeonghan mumbled. You swallowed hard and forced yourself to keep your eyes on him.

“Please fuck me,” you mumbled softly. “I want you so badly Jeonghan.”

You thought you sounded a bit robotic, but Jeonghan seemed to like it. His lips quirked up a bit in amusement. Once again, his fingers buried in your hair, and he held you tight, forcing you to look him in the eyes.

“Really?” He pressed, wanting more.

“Really,” you agreed. “I’ve… Been thinking about you ever since I first saw you.”

You wished you could say it wasn’t true but Jeonghan was right in his accusations that you had been strategic in the way that you had gone about this whole situation. You had been desperate to get his attention, and you had genuinely thought that you would be able to trick Jeonghan into thinking that you didn’t want it so badly by coming under the guise of I’ll do anything for drugs.

But it seemed that wasn’t the case. He had seen right through you.

“Life isn’t one of your shitty porn videos,” Jeonghan chided you softly. “If you wanted to fuck me… Well angel, you should have just asked.”

Jeonghan tipped his head down a bit more, his nose brushing yours as his lips ghosted yours.

“Last chance to stay pure.”

The tone of his voice told you that he didn’t actually believe that fucking someone made them impure, and still the words sent a shiver through your body. You tilted your chin up, letting your lips brush his. Jeonghan laughed at your weak attempt to initiate the kiss.

“Is it your first kiss too?” He teased you lightly. At this rate he was so close to you that you were confident that he could just feel the redness of your cheeks by your twos close proximity.

You raised both of your hands to Jeonghan’s head.

“Shut up.”

You pulled him close to you, squashing your lips together, but the fact that you actually hadn’t kissed anyone before was pretty evident.

Jeonghan laughed against your lips and pulled away slightly, his fingers burying into your hair again.

“It really is your first kiss,” he said in awe.

“It’s…” You trailed off, face burning. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Jeonghan assured lightly. His hands dropped to your side, and he tugged at the bottom of your shirt. “It’s just amusing… Do you really not care about the importance of your first time?”

He gave you a small kiss, and then pulled your shirt over your head. He gave you another kiss, putting one hand to the small of your back and the other hand to the clasp of your bra.

“Firsts don’t really mean anything,” you mumbled. Jeonghan feigned offense.

“If firsts don’t mean anything does that mean I’m not special?”

You snorted at his faux tone but that didn’t matter at all to him. You hadn’t even realized what he was doing until suddenly your bra had loosened around your chest. Your face burned red, and you suddenly raised your hands to your chest, holding up your bra weakly. Jeonghan snorted at you.

“You know if I’m going to fuck you anywhere than I am going to be seeing you naked right?”

Your face was still bright red.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not going to be a little embarrassed about it,” you mumbled softly. Jeonghan took your wrist with one of his hands, forcing your arm away from your body, letting your bra to lopsidedly fall off your other arm. As he moved your arm he also moved your body, guiding you over to the wall. He didn’t push you against it but he may as well have with how close he was to you. He made sure to toss aside your bra once he had released your arm, and then he took you by your hips, now pressing you into the wall.

“Let’s see what we are working with,” Jeonghan mumbled, and the way that he looked at you made you realize what it was like to be seen as an object. And not in the way that you had seen people describe it on tiktok. No, you knew now what it felt like when one of the characters of your adult fantasy novels said that the male lead looked at them like an object.

Heat rushed through your body so quickly that you were surprised when Jeonghan raised his hand to pinch at one of your nipples and it was rock hard. You resisted the urge to push him away, because you had never been touched by someone like this before, and you were finding the burn of your body intoxicating.

Jeonghan raised his other hand to your breasts, completely cupping the other one, and you raised your hand to your mouth, biting down on your knuckle to keep from making any embarrassing sounds. You tried to watch Jeonghan as he began to fondle with your breasts, but the heat in his eyes that you had only ever seen written before was a bit overwhelming. You found yourself having to turn your head, pressing your hand into your mouth harder as he squeezed and kneaded your breasts.

“No one’s ever touched you like this before either huh?” Jeonghan observed, and when he spoke you realized that he was very close to your neck. As soon as the words were completely out of his mouth, his lips had latched on your neck. You cried out against your hand and shook your head to say no even though he couldn’t see you.

Jeonghan’s head dipped a bit lower after having bit down a few times on your neck. He kissed over your collarbone and then his mouth was gently sucking one of your nipples into his mouth.

You gasped out in surprise and your hands darted to his head, your fingers grabbing at his hair.

“A-Ah, Jeong-”

You felt his lips curve up into a smile and his teeth nipped lightly at your nipple.

“You’re so reactive,” he murmured. “I forgot how loud virgins are.”

“Stop calling me a virgin,” you whined. In response Jeonghan lowered one of his hands, sliding it down your hips. He unbuttoned your pants with a single flick, and slowly pushed his hand into your underwear. Your face burned and your hands tugged at his hair urgently.

“What are yo-” You were interrupted by your own surprised moan as Jeonghan slipped a finger into you. You slammed your hand over your mouth at the sound of your moan.

“Even a virgin would be better than you at handling a finger in their cunt,” he murmured. His head dipped back down, refocusing on your tits. You tugged at his hair with the one hand that wasn’t (poorly) stifling your moans.

“It’s like you’ve never even fingered yourself before,” Jeonghan said, his voice heightened in amusement. His fingers slipped from you, and he pulled away from you. He slipped his finger into his mouth.

“Drop your pants.”

You stared at him; your hands having had to catch yourself on the wall in surprise at the loss of his support. He raised an eyebrow at you as you panted there dumbly.

“Don’t look at me like an idiot, take off your pants.”

You nodded and struggled to get the pants off. Once they were tossed aside awkwardly on the floor Jeonghan sat down in front of you, looking up at you from where he was now cross-legged on the floor.

“Spread your legs,” he mumbled softly. You did so the best that you could while standing against the wall. “Good… Now, I want you to run your hands down your body…”

Your eyebrows furrowed and again- You did the best that you could to slid your hands down, a bit confused on where you were going. Jeonghan rolled his eyes.

“Down to your pussy angel,” he murmured. “But… Don’t touch your clit. Want to watch you finger yourself.”

Your eyebrows rose in surprise.

“I’m not going to-”

“Didn’t you say you would do anything for those drugs?” He asked you. Your lips pressed in frustration. “Or were you just saying that because you wanted me to fuck you? You didn’t think I was going to hold you to that promise? Anything?”

Your body was warm. Did that mean that he was going to do everything you offered…? Did that mean-

“You know a virgin shouldn’t be so excited to do anal,” Jeonghan commented. Before you could argue that he was gesturing at you to move faster.

“Come on, if you can’t even finger yourself why should I fuck you? I can’t teach you everything,” he commented, and there was a disgruntled tone in his voice that made you lightly bang the back of your head against the wall as you finally slid one of your fingers into yourself.

“I know how to finger myself,” you murmured, your voice was a bit airy as you spoke. Your finger was a bit shorter and thinner than Jeonghan’s had been. Just a bit. So, you were a bit frustrated even though he had only been fingering you for a little bit. You slipped a second finger into you, trying to pish your fingers as deep into as you could manage.

“You’re doing such a good job,” Jeonghan praised lightly. “I don’t even know why you came. You don’t need me to get off do you?”

You looked down at Jeonghan, face surely bright red at being watched. Jeonghan tilted his up a bit.

“Why don’t you play with your tits too huh? Give me a bit of a show.”

You opened your mouth to protest cause this wasn’t what you meant when you said anything but even as you were doing that you were raising your free hand to knead and pinch at your breasts. A whine left your mouth at the feeling instead of a sentence of protest towards Jeonghan.

You let your head hit the back of the wall again, and your eyes fluttered shut as you tried to pretend that Jeonghan wasn’t there watching you in his room, fucking yourself against the wall. But… It was all you could remember, that Jeonghan was watching. His little hums of approval vibrating through the room every once in a while.

You pressed a third finger into you, curling your fingers deep inside of you, forcing out a gasp.

“A bit presumptuous with all those fingers, I didn’t even have to tell you.”

A sound of frustration was your only reply.

“Y/n,” he voice came sharp. “Look at me.”

You reluctantly pried your eyes open and looked down at Jeonghan. Your hand fucking your pussy was soaked. You wanted to pretend that it wasn’t because of Jeonghan because experiencing your fantasies wasn’t always supposed to be as good as reading about them, but despite that thought in your head you knew that you had never dripped down your thighs like this at home for fantasies.

“You ever fucked yourself in the ass before?” He asked you, rather bluntly, you thought. You shook your head, biting down on the inside of your cheeks. Jeonghan hummed.

“And yet you offered it up? You probably could even fit a pencil in there, much less your fingers, or my dick,” he commented, and again that way he spoke down to you was such a ridiculous turn on you wanted to scream into your hands. People never spoke down to you. Not your teachers, or other classmates, not even your parents had ever spoken down to you. It was thrilling to be spoken to like this.

“You don’t have to fuck me…” You didn’t want to say it so casually like he was. “There.”

“I don’t,” Jeonghan agreed. “But you want me to, don’t you?”

You shook your head, closing your eyes in embarrassment.

“Did you get ready for me?” He asked you, his voice again heightened in amusement.

You shook your head, but your thoughts turned to the what to do before anal google search you had done before coming here.

You would be joking if you said you hadn’t really been hoping this night would take this turn. You would be just straight lying if you said you hadn’t done most of what the google results had told you.

But to finger yourself there? That was humiliating.

As your thoughts raced, you felt Jeonghan close the distance between you two. He tapped your cheek, and you felt your eyes flutter open. You were staring up at Jeonghan whose face was framed in his hair falling forward from looking down at you.

“You like it when I talk down to you,” he murmured softly. “I bet you’d really like it if I was a bit more physical.”

Again, you wanted to scream but you kept your face as straight as you could keep it.

“You want me to hurt you?” He continued; his voice so airy that you nearly missed the question. You pressed your lips together, and you nodded once. His eyes narrowed. “I need it vocal.”

“Yes.”

You were immediately slapped, hard across your face. You stumbled, grabbing Jeonghan’s arm to keep yourself steady just at the surprise of being hit.

“Say it louder.”

You looked up at Jeonghan, your pupils blown. You had always wondered what it would feel like to be hit by someone. Always fantasized about it, weakly slapping yourself while listening to strangers on reddit’s gonewildaudio’s subreddit degrade you. But that didn’t hold a candle to the way that hit made you feel. Your pussy clamped around nothing, and your fingers dug into Jeonghan’s arm.

“Oh my god yes, please,” you blurted before you could feel shame for your excitement. “Please hurt me, It feels s-so good.”

You wanted to cry, because you needed Jeonghan to touch you more. You needed his fingers inside you. You wanted his cock inside of you.

The excitement was thrumming through your body. You hadn’t even seen Jeonghan’s cock yet.

Jeonghan forced your chin up.

“You would give a shitty blowjob,” Jeonghan commented as if he could read your mind. “I don’t feel like teaching you how to take cock down your throat properly.”

Jeonghan took you by your shoulder, and walked you over to his desk, bending you forcibly over it. You moaned as your cheek pressed into the cold wood.

“You want me to stop,” he mumbled. “Just use your safeword. I know you’re good at listening.”

“Okay,” you breathed.

Jeonghan’s hand came down on your ass hard, jolting your entire body.

“Let’s see…” He mumbled, ignoring your yelp. He knelt down in front of you, his thumbs coming to your folds and spreading them for him. “Your pussy still looks like it needs a cock in it.”

He sighed as if he was disappointed in you. You let your forehead hit the desk. He pushed two of his fingers into you, and as he did so he was clicking his tongue.

“And you’re dripping like a bitch in heat all over me…” He continued. He pulled his fingers out of you after only a few pumps and ran them through your folds as if to try and gather all of the wetness.

“Let’s see if you’re even wet enough for this…” Jeonghan slid his now soaked fingers up to your asshole, pushing lightly to see if your rim would give. He didn’t try very hard and instead took his head.

“Yeah… You definitely aren’t ready for this,” he mumbled. But as he did, you felt a different one of his fingers dragging through your wetness and then pushing at your asshole. He forced the finger into you, forcing a moan out of you.

“Well, my pinky can fit, so I guess you’re not a completely lost cause,” he murmured. You kicked one of your feet into the ground, fighting the urge to push back on Jeonghan because the burn of just his pinky finger inside of you was absolutely intoxicating. You felt like you were going to explode, you wanted him to do more, you wanted him to put more in you.

“Je-Jeonghan,” you said, but your voice was small and shaky as he eased his pinky in and out of you. “I-I can take more.”

Jeonghan hummed, ignoring you.

“Jeonghan,” you moaned again, shimmying your ass. “I want you to fuck me with more.”

Jeonghan slapped your ass and you lost his finger completely.

“You’re rushing it,” Jeonghan chided. “You really want me to just pull out my dick and start fucking you when you’ve never even fingered your ass before.”

Your face burned so hot you were glad that he couldn’t see. You wondered what it would be like if he did just fuck your ass right there. You wondered how big he was, and how big he would feel with just his tip forcing it’s way past-

Your thoughts were interrupted by Jeonghan beginning to push a bigger finger into you, and you pushed back against it. You were so tight that it was a bit of an effort to try and even get his finger further into you. His other hand gripped at your waist.

“You’re so impatient it’s making me a bit angry,” he warned, and you hoped that he left bruises on your hips from how hard he was holding you. Jeonghan began again, to work his finger in and out of you, but he was taking his time and you were getting impatient. More impatient than before.

Jeonghan began to ease a second finger into you, making you hit your palm against his desk. God, you needed more. You had never come without a vibrator, but right now you felt like you were going to come just on Jeonghan’s fingers alone.

“You were right,” you bit out, hoping he was listening. “I should have asked Hansol to get me drugs. Cause he would already be fucking me by now.”

Your words had the desired affect even though, at first you thought you had really fucked up. Jeonghan left you completely, slapping your ass hard.

“You want it like that?” He asked you. You swallowed hard and just as you were about to apologize you heard a zipper. Moments later you felt something fat and heavy hit your back.

“You want to play that game?” Jeonghan asked. He grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up from the desk. You cried out in surprise as you were flipped around and hiked up onto his desk. Jeonghan let his heavy cock land on your bare pussy and he grabbed you roughly by both sides of your face, dragging you into a rough, possessive kiss. He broke it just when you thought you were going to suffocate.

“What were you going to do if you went to Hansol then?” H asked. “Cause I promise you, Hansol won’t fuck you the way that I’m going to.”

He pulled back wrapping both of his hands to hit your clit with his heavy cock. You jumped at each hit, feeling like you’d get yelled at for grabbing him so instead you grabbed at the edges of Jeonghan’s desk.

“I bet you Hansol would have been so gentle, probably would have talked you through all this shit, praised you for how frankly stupid you are at this,” Jeonghan mumbled. He shook his head and rubbed his bare tip between your slick folds. “But I’m not even going to fuck you with a condom.”

He grabbed the back of your neck, pushing so that your eyes were forced to look down at where his cock was teasing your entrance.

“Because even cheap whores can’t argue with a paying customer. Because they’ll take whatever they get.”

He forced his cock into you all at once, and you screamed at the sudden thrust. You had fucked yourself countless times on dildos that honestly did compare to Jeonghan’s width and length, but you still felt like you had never been fucked by anything before. The base of his cock stretched you so hard that you felt tears begin to trail down your cheeks, but it felt so good that you didn’t want Jeonghan to stop.

Jeonghan moved one of his hands to your shoulder, and the other to your hip so that he could begin to force his fat cock into your pussy that had only just been spread open enough for this to feel pleasant. You were starting to think that you shouldn’t have been so hasty with the anal because at this rate you didn’t think he would fuck your ass at all.

Not that you cared too much. His fingers dug into your shoulders as his groans filled the air, cock twitching everytime it pushed too far in because it drug a yelp out of you everytime and made you clench hard around Jeonghan’s cock. He let his forehead drop forward, against yours, and he shook his head against yours.

“God you’re so stupid you don’t even know how you’re supposed to act during your first time,” Jeonghan mumbled. “You aren’t supposed to want it this rough. You aren’t supposed to talk about other men.”

Jeonghan accentuated his points with his thrusts, and he nudged your nose with his, smashing your lips together again. You tried to keep up with him, but to be completely honest you were pretty much solely moaning against his lips. You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying you were just nodded when you could, screaming into his mouth with each deep thrust.

Of course, once again, you had that pleasure ripped away from you.

A frustrated sob left your lips, but it was interrupted by a soft kiss from Jeonghan.

“Oh don’t worry angel, we’re just getting started,” he whispered against your lips. You were a bit confused by his words but then he was dragging you off the desk again, bending you back over it, the tip of his cock pressing against your tight asshole.

“You want me to fuck your ass? Then it would be my pleasure.”

He had to hold your hips tightly (both to get himself into you and to stop your wiggles of anticipation). It took a moment (you suspected he was going easy on you), before finally his tip was into you. You both let out matching moans and he weakly bent over your body, burying his face in the back of your neck.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, you are so tight,” he blabbered nonsensically. He pushed further into you, and the burn and stretch of his cock in your ass felt so good that you had to push your fist into your mouth, biting down hard on it to keep from screaming too loud.

“You’re such a slut y/n,” Jeonghan babbled as he pushed into you. “Good kids like you shouldn’t act like this. Good kids like you shouldn’t let bad guys like me fuck you. We don’t treat you right.”

You whined into your fist, shaking your head to shake off his words. This felt too good. Your pussy was clamping on air, dripping all over his desk and on your thighs. Jeonghan held you still until he had finally pushed all the way into you, his head raising so that he could thread his fingers back into your hair.

“Such a bad little slut,” he mumbled, and then he began to pull out. At first his thrusts were slow, because you were so tight there was nothing else that he could do. But as he continued, he grabbed at your other wrist, and trapped it behind your back so that he could hear you.

You were a mess of tears, and pleasure, the burn of his cock as he began to fuck you hard and fast and your moans could probably be heard by the entire floor.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbled against your skin, his teeth bit down on the back of your neck. “I like this so much… Did you think of the consequences to your actions before doing this? Coming here? Asking me to fuck you?”

You shook your head silently, and it wasn’t enough for him, his other hand circled around your body and his fingers pressed to your down to your pussy.

You sobbed out in complete and utter pleasure.

“Do you know what I’m going to do to you?” He asked you as suddenly his fingers pressed into your pussy, three fingers filling you up so full that for a second you forgot how to breathe.

“I’m going to cum in your fucking ass and watch it drip out of your ass and into your pretty little pussy how do you like that?”

You nodded, and finally were able to find the words.

“Yes Jeonghan please, I need that so badly, want you to cum in my ass, please please-“

As you begged you started to feel something warm spurt deep in your ass. Your forehead hit the desk, as you sobbed in pleasure, feeling an orgasm rip through so powerful that your vision briefly blurred, your entire body shaking.

It wasn’t until he finally, stopped thrusting, his cock still buried deep in your ass that you even realized what a mess you were making of his desk. You were crying, you knew that for sure, and suddenly Jeonghan pulled you up by the strands of your hair.

“How does that feel angel? Do you feel good?” He asked you, his tone again condescending.

“G-good,” you admitted shamelessly. “Th-Than-nk you.”

Jeonghan hummed and pushed you back into the desk. He slipped his cock out of your now used ass, and then plugged it with three of his fingers. His hand left your hair, and you felt his cock head tease at the entrance of your pussy.

“Clearly, I haven’t taught you a good enough lesson. You aren’t supposed to like this. You are pure, the perfect kid on campus.”

He pushed his cock into your pussy in one full push.

“Oh god-”

“Don’t you want to protect your image?” He asked you. “You really want everyone to know that Yoon Jeonghan fucked both of your sloppy holes and left cum in them?”

Excitement thrummed your body.

“Y-Yes.”

You wished you could say that you were thinking about using the safe word he had provided you earlier but you didn’t care about that at all. You were sobbing just from the pleasure of it all. So excited at the prospect of having your pussy full of cum. You had always wondered what that was like. You already loved the feeling of Jeonghan’s cum in your ass. The feeling of his fingers keeping it plugged up.

He didn’t have to fuck you long before you were coming on his cock.

And that dragged him over the edge as well.

The warm spurts of cum in your pussy were completely different from the toys you had played with to try and simulate this feeling before.

As soon as Jeonghan finished filling your pussy with his cum he took a step back, his warmth leaving your body.

Both of your whole felt empty, your clit desperate for attention despite having come just from Jeonghan’s cock already.

You moaned as you felt his cum beginning to drip out of your ass and down to your pussy, which was also dripping cum, presumably onto Jeonghan’s floor.

“You look so pathetic,” Jeonghan said, that condescending tone still there. “A virgin fucked to tears and yet somehow you seem so grateful.”

He sighed and then his hands were soothing over the small of your back. You preened into his touch, steady breaths leaving your lips as he guided you up. Your body was still shaking a bit so when he turned you around all he did was wrap his arms around your body, pressing your back to the desk as he hugged you tightly.

He stood there completely silent for a few minutes, making sure not to say anything. After a while, your head drooped tiredly onto his shoulder and he sighed, pressing a small kiss to the side of your neck.

“How’re you feeling?” He asked you softly. You felt a bit embarrassed that he was reassuring you.

“I feel fine,” you mumbled. “Like I’ll be a bit sore tomorrow…”

His cum dripped down your thighs.

“But isn’t that what everyone’s first is like?”

Jeonghan eased you back by your shoulders so that you could see him.

“I thought firsts didn’t matter?” He asked. Your face began to burn red again.

“They don’t…” You murmured, a smile crossing your face. “But it was a pretty good first.”

You were tired, but excitement still strummed through your body.

“Yeah, my first time I was slapped, fucked over a desk, and he came in both my ass and my pussy,” you said as if you were telling the story to someone. “Oh and it was an infamous bad boy who did it.”

Jeonghan laughed at your words.

“We have a communal bathroom,” he said. “But I’ll sneak you into the boys one so you can get clean in peace. I’ll help you shower.”

“Oh aftercare,” you teased lightly. Jeonghan gave you a somewhat amused look.

“How come you were so embarrassed to ask me to fuck you that you came under the guise of needing drugs, but now you are smiling and laughing while your cunt and your ass drip my cum.”

He made a good point.

“Dream come true…” You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Then after a few moments: “Wait does that mean you’re not going to get me drugs?”

“No,” Jeonghan said with a laugh. “I told you to go to Hansol if you wanted to smoke some weed.”

You gaped at him, but he just pushed you back by your forehead a bit while he rummaged through his things to get some clothes.

“Hey Hansol, I need some weed,” you mumbled. “Don’t worry you can fuck me any-“

Jeonghan was back on you in an instant, his fingers digging into your shoulder, just by your collarbone.

“Don’t offer random people to fuck your ass.”

His gaze on you was a bit scary… Unwavering. You pressed your lips together and nodded once.

“You shouldn’t let people fuck you without a condom either,” he continued, sounding a bit unamused. “Or cum in your ass. If you’re going to be a slut, you could get something… You should just fuck one person.”

A beat passed as you realized what he was saying. Your pressed look turned into a smile.

“You mean-”

“Don’t overthink it,” he grumbled. “I’m going to get so much shit if it gets out that I took your virginity so just… Keep everything on the down low, okay?”

You nodded excitedly.

“Yeah. DL, I got it.”

Jeonghan looked at you like he didn’t quite believe you.

“Promise!”

Finally, he relented and handed you a t-shirt.

“But no drugs,” he mumbled. “You don’t need to start doing that shit. I’m not going to fuck you if you smell like weed all the time.”

“Got it!” You agreed. “No drugs.”

Jeonghan sighed and shook his head at your eagerness.

“And you’re staying the night. Can’t have you walking home after this or anything.”

Again, the idea was a bit exciting.

“Virginity taken and a sleep ov-”

Jeonghan shoved the shirt you hadn’t yet taken in your face with a sigh as he realized that fucking you, wasn’t going to be like fucking most people.