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#i don’t want to lose her i want her to grow the fuck up and give me the same respect i give her
kissitbttr · 2 days
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Okay so like hear me out for Frat!Miguel ideas. Movie night at the frat house, very lowkey setting a few drinks maybe some people had an edible… But muñeca and Gloria being all cuddly, as best friends are. The two of the just in their own worlds watching the movie while cuddling and Miguel and Beck are in the corner just sad and jealous from lack of attention.
i am so happy at the fact that you are realizing that gloria and muñeca are basically each other’s soulmates, they do love each other more than their bfs🤍🤍🤍🤍
“I hear that strawberries are better fruits for your digestive systems”
“No shit, really?! I thought papayas were good!”
“That’s what i thought! But nopes, it’s all the berries babes!”
Miguel and Beck are sitting by the kitchen counter. wearing the same expression of disbelief as they stare at two of their girlfriends cuddled up in the sofa gossiping about —fruits? While others are busy with their own chatters and rolling blunts.
The girls aren’t even paying attention to the two boys who keep on staring at them. It’s like they’re just living in their own little world. Just simply talking about God knows what, fiddling with each other hands and laughing while they get high on edibles,
It’s like watching two women flirting with each other.
“no me gusta esto” Miguel grumbles, arms crossing over his chest as he slumps against the back cushion. Watching how his girl gets all lovey dovey and giggly with Gloria. “This is not how it’s supposed to go”
“Can’t believe that we are right here, yet they chose to get busy with each other!” Beck remarks in disbelief, shaking his head, “how many edibles did they take anyway?”
“Not counting but a lot” Miguel scoffs, eyes burning holes on Gloria’s side profile who’s staring at Muñeca with a hazy look on her eyes,
Beck notices, nudging him on the side. “Are you planning to kill my girl?”
“No. But i will continue to glare at her if she doesn’t take her eyes off my girl!”
“She’s basically doing the same thing! We’re victims here!”
“Holy fuck, you’re right” Miguel exhales a deep breath, leg bobbing up and down out of frustration. “Jesus—Are they eye fucking each other?!”
“Oh god please don’t make me imagine that. I can’t lose Gloria yet”
“So am i! I got fucking boys from class that i had to get off her back and i got to compete with girls too?!”
Never been so frustrated in his life before. Miguel throws a hard glare at the two of them, and it irks him just a little bit more when he sees muñeca running her fingers through Gloria’s hair. Pair of her eyes staring intently into hers,
“I had this huge crush on Kevin Levin on Ben 10, he’s like really hot—Had a shrine of him when i was twelve” she mentions, playing with the ends of Gloria’s dark hair
“Oh god, baby me too!” Gloria gasps excitedly, hands clutching onto muñeca’s as her eyes grow wide. “What about Danny Phantom?!” Muñeca simply squeals at the mention of his name, continuing to be bashful about her second childhood crush,
Beck and Miguel simply could not believe it! Are they actually ignoring their own boyfriends? To talk about weird cartoon crushes they had when they were young?!
Unacceptable!
“Are you fucking kidding me?!” Miguel mutters harshly, hands going through his hair and groan. “Kingsley! You go in there and get your girl! I need my time alone with mine!”
“I did try! She didn’t want me to! Told me to piss off without even looking at me! How about you get your girl?!”
“And make her mad?! No thanks” Miguel refuses, his scowl only increases when he sees Gloria kisses muñeca’s cheek. Leaving a sheer mark of her lipgloss making both girls giggle. “Oh my god—you know what?!”
And before even Miguel finishes, he marches over the two of them with a pout and an upset frown. Trying his best to not look like a jealous man,
“Miggy! Hi, baby!” Muñeca’s eyes lighting up when she sees her boyfriend standing close, the delt of his muscles flexes a bit when he put his hands on hips. “Me and Gloria were just talking about making pot brownies! Well—she did. I, for one prefer strawberry blondies”
“Nooo, chocolates are better! Tell her, O’hara!” Gloria giggles, poking the dimple on Muñeca’s cheek,
Miguel rolls his eyes, not seeing any humor what’s sitting in front of him. “Not telling her shit—now quit hogging my girlfriend and go to your man”
“What? Jealous?” Gloria wiggles her eyebrows, laughing a little as muñeca snorts. “You have her everyday! I want to cuddle with my baby too”
“She’s not your baby. She’s my baby” Miguel corrects, staring down at Gloria who’s pouting. “You had her for an hour, it’s my turn!”
“Miggy, you can just cuddle with Beck!” His girlfriend suggests with a grin, as if its the most obvious thing. “That way, the girlfriends and boyfriends could be close with each other as well! Am i right?” Muñeca snuggles against Gloria’s neck,
“You’re crazy! I am not cuddling with Beck!” Miguel’s eyes hold a shocking expression, “Why are you suddenly not interested in your own boyfriend?!”
“Because you just want to cuddle with me so you can play with my boobies” Muñeca pouts, face looking like she’s actually heartbroken,
“Of course i do! i love your boobies! Obsessed even! Who doesn’t love your boobies?! Wait—don’t answer that” Miguel backtracks, “Beck doesn’t have boobies. They’re not as comfy as yours!”
“Jeez! Opposed to my chest that much, O’Hara?” Beck chimes in from behind with a smirk
“Cállate, Kingsley!”
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comfortless · 2 days
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how do you think König would react with an S/O who playfully fights/teases as a way to show affection? my love language is light bullying so idk if he'll be too receptive to that 😅
ohhh this is a fun/sad one, actually! 🥲 i think this would be torture for him, because i don’t see him as being someone who can take a joke well!
SO!
We are all aware König was bullied in his past. I personally see him as being somewhere on the spectrum, too.
He speaks his mind, and expects the same of you whether he voices that need or not. The people he was surrounded by as a child play a huge part in this. There was never any “playful” bullying when it came to his father, any change in tone or insult ignited a fight or flight instinct for König because of this. The children at school were even worse. His father was always easy enough to read as he had no choice but to be around him.
The fake love confessions, the mocking compliments, and the unprompted aggression were another thing altogether. If a girl called him “hot” growing up, she always seemed to be lying, laughing with her friends the second he became hopeful. If another student wanted to “be friends” it more often than not ended with poor König either showing up and sitting through a movie entirely alone or doing their homework for them with nothing in return.
König never properly mastered people, they’re all different shades of confusing. He never had the proper upbringing or chances to read them properly at all, and though he’s grown more comfortable in his own skin now, these things do still haunt him to an extent.
He would love a play fight, adores the feeling of getting to pin you and feel that flood of power. You’re smaller and weaker than him, most people are, but he doesn’t get to exert that energy anywhere else than on the field. It’s certainly not as fun when his opponent winds up dead and there’s no romantic aspect to it at all. You’re such a cute, fragile little thing in his eyes, he’s overly gentle but doesn’t hesitate in the slightest to engage. Physical touch is his love language, and the promise of getting to rough you up in other ways afterward is just a bonus!
But… say you’re playfully insulting him. Call him “ugly” or hurl any other insult at his body, and he just sort of shuts down. He’ll give you the blankest stare, avoid touching you, and likely storm off until he’s had time to calm himself down. A part of him recognizes that you don’t mean it, but the internal wounds speak much louder.
He would assume the worst, that all of this time you’ve just been pitying him and you’re only now speaking true. You’re not attracted to him, and he was an idiot for ever believing that you might be. This guy had tried and failed countless times to find himself with a pretty thing that he can love, and never would he say anything like that to you. It’s always an abundance of praise and an eternal stare. His eyes and hands never leave you. So, that stings.
Once he calms down… some, he would return with the same hurt painted across his face, ask you why through gritted teeth. Just, “Why?” Depending on if it’s something that can be fixed, maybe he’ll offer to do it for you. Make himself prettier, better built, anything so that you don’t leave him for a man you deem more worthy. He knows he sounds small and pathetic, but he can’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to lose you. It pisses him off knowing that he’s already done the work, too, only for the end result to be the same as the things he’s already endured.
He wouldn’t be entirely convinced that it was just a joke, but he isn’t the type to come sobbing to you for reassurance, either. The next few hours are filled with condescending little comments. “You like fucking ugly men, schatz?” or “Do you always get wet like this when you’re sorry?”
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spacelesscowboy · 1 year
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sorry but i still think it is so so crazy and insane to look at a child—ANY child, any teenager, ANYONE, but especially CHILDREN—and hit them. as a punishment or warning or whatever. that is so crazy to me. how could you ever look at a child and bring yourself to hurt them in any way shape or form??????????? that’s insane to me.
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twinksintrees · 3 months
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no no no fuck this no. she shouldn’t have to miss this. no. it’s not fair. i don’t care if it’s childish it’s not fucking fair.
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fangswbenefits · 10 months
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Sharing is Caring (II)
Summary: Things get complicated, but you find yourself sharing a bed with Miguel… once again. Too bad someone else is in the room.
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
18+. Sharing one bed. Semi-public. Blue balls. Sexual tension. Mutual masturbation. Creampie. Implied cockwarming.
* ˚ ✦ Part 1. (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, though)
You were fucked.
Extremely fucked.
Not only had the anomaly managed to slip through your fingers, effectively disabling the trackers scattered around, but you were also fucked, because now you were left to deal with the aftermath of a very intimate encounter with Miguel.
It was nearly five in the morning and the night was nowhere near being done. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, which helped with visibility and grip, and having Lyla assist you as in replacing the faulty sensors was also very much welcome.
“Sensor 24 up and running,” the AI’s sing-song voice announced, as the device bleeped green.
You leapt over the railing, shooting a string of web to the side of the hotel, so you could swing through the window.
As you landed with a clumsy thump, you noticed Miguel had already gotten back from his reconnaissance check.
He looked positively… pissed off.
Great.
“Lyla, call her,” her grumbled, checking his watch.
“Already did,” she announced, appearing by his shoulder. “Want me to run a diagnostics of the perimeter once again?”
“Do it in five minute intervals,” he said flatly. “The anomaly must be nearby.”
You removed your mask and considered sitting on the bed, but were soon reminded that not even thirty minutes ago, you were getting fucked by Miguel.
A shudder ran through your body.
“You okay?” he asked, his narrowed eyes on you.
You shrugged. “Sure.”
The problem with having impromptu sex was that now you were left to deal with the soreness between your legs, and the frustration of an orgasm that never came to be.
Did Miguel feel the same way?
Your eyes roamed his body, and you find yourself glaring at his-
“Hey! I need you to focus,” Miguel said with a snap of his fingers. “There’s still a chance we deal with it tonight.”
You were about to snap back when a loud distorted buzz filled the room, swirls of flashing lights nearly blinding you, as the inter-dimensional portal expanded quickly in pulsating waves.
Through came Jessica Drew, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.
Fuck.
“What are you doing here?” Miguel growled, pointing at Peter.
“What?” he asked, eyes widening in confusion.
Miguel wasn’t known to be a very patient man, and you reckoned his patience was now hanging by a thread. “I called for Jess. Not you.”
Jess let out an exasperated sigh. “Easy, Miguel. We were both on the same mission.”
He straightened up, but crossed his arms. “Right.”
“Care to explain why I had to leave to be here?” she went on, resting on hand on her swollen belly. “How did you lose track of the anomaly?”
He exchanged a brief look with you. “The sensors didn’t alert us in time.”
That was true.
“Weren’t you supposed to be monitoring, regardless?”
“We dozed off,” you chimed in. “Momentarily! Just for a while.”
Not really true…
Jess glanced at you, suspicion written all over face.
“Sleeping on the job,” she then chuckled, eyeing Miguel deviously. “Didn’t think you’d ever do that, Miguel.”
He narrowed his eyes menacingly. “We weren’t sleeping. We were just resting our eyes for a moment.”
A blatant lie.
“What’s that on your neck?” Peter suddenly asked with a worried look on his face.
Oh….
You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the tender hickey spot. “Bug bite.”
“Allergic reaction,” Miguel blurted out at the same time.
Fuck.
You shot him a murderous look.
Jessica arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”
“An allergic reaction to a bug bite,” Miguel said with a shrug, growing visibly annoyed.
A wave of relief washed over you momentarily. That seemed plausible enough.
But…
“Oh, really?” she asked with a knowing smile. “What bug? A spid-”
But Miguel was already cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this!”
Peter walked to you, craning your neck to the side. “You should have it checked. It looks serious.”
Ah, Peter… ever the innocent.
“Jess, you stay with us,” Miguel says, dragging Peter away from you at once. “We need an extra pair of eyes.”
She frowned. “No. Peter stays. I need to get some sleep,” she said, patting her belly.
“No!” Miguel growled.
“Actually, I was thinking of heading back home,” Peter drawled out, rubbing the back of his head. “Mayday should be waking up soon.”
“And I’m pregnant,” Jess shot, holding her chin high.
Peter swallowed and fell silent. The deal was sealed.
“Lyla, any updates?”
The hologram popped up instantly. “No, boss.”
Jess glanced over at you one last time, before stepping into the portal once again. “You should really have that checked. Whatever bug did that seems… vicious,” she then slipped into the vortex, which vanished behind her.
You momentarily froze in place, feeling the dread of realisation hit you like a ton of bricks.
She knew.
“I’ll be right back,” Peter drawled out with a yawn and a stretch, disappearing into the bathroom.
The moment you heard rhe door click shut, you turned to Miguel.
“An allergic reaction to a bug bite?” you hissed.
He scowled deeply. “Because simply saying bug bite sounded ridiculous.”
“She didn’t believe it, regardless.”
Miguel was suddenly towering over you, his face twisted in annoyance. “Then why does it matter?”
“Because… you gave me a visible hickey!”
It was a silly thing to get upset about. There were worse things in life than having Miguel O’Hara marking you as a result of built up sexual tension.
But you didn’t want to give in.
“Got carried away,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah…”
He cleared his throat. “But I have a problem.”
You looked up at him. “What problem?”
“Well…” he said, glancing at the bathroom door.
“Peter?”
“No!”
You clicked your tongue. “Then what?”
His placed both hands on his hips and glanced down.
Your eyes followed suit.
Oh.
Oh.
“What? Why are you… what?” you stuttered in disbelief at the sight of the outline of his hardened cock.
“Biology, remember?” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not going away.”
You somehow managed to tear your eyes from the impressive bulge. “Go jerk off, then!”
He had you walk back until you hit the wall behind. “It won’t go away.”
Had you just given Miguel blue balls?
“How’s that my problem?” you huffed, staring intensely into his crimson eyes.
“This is all your fault.”
“Oh, really? I thought we were blaming Biology.”
Before Miguel could retort, the sudden squeak of a door being swung open, had you slipped past him.
Peter emerged, eyeing you both. “Oh, I see what this is.”
Miguel had to move strategically in order to hide his raging boner from him. “What do you mean?”
“I know what’s up with you two,” Peter said, with a playful grin. “All the whispering and whatnot.”
Great.
Were you two that transparent?
“Huh…”
Miguel had pursed his lips.
Peter paced closer to you, eyeing you with a knowing smile. “You’re deciding on Jessica’s birthday present, right?”
You blinked a few times and heard Miguel exhale nearby.
“Right? I knew it!” he threw his arms in the air as if he’d just won the lottery.
In truth, you were simply baffled at how innocent Peter could be. The immediate weight that was lifted off your shoulders was enough to draw a laugh from you.
“Sure!”
“Of course, Peter,” Miguel said, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm. “We went on this mission, so we could go through birthday checklists.”
A layer of pride settled on Peter’s face. “Ah! You’re growing soft, Miguel.”
You winced at his poor choice of words.
“But fear not!” he said as if he was about to fight off the anomaly himself. “We’ll take turns watching. You two can get some rest and properly plan it out,” he then pinched his thumb and index finger together and dragged them across his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”
Miguel didn’t budge at first, but you were all too grateful to stop this insane conversation altogether.
“Thanks, Peter.”
“Of course,” he smiled widely, pacing to the open hotel window, leaping into the the sky night.
You shot Miguel one last look before slipping inside into the comfort of the bedsheets, welcoming the softness.
But you were sorely mistaken if you thought Miguel wouldn’t have followed you.
Your heart skipped a beat. Or two.
You had turned to face the wall, hoping he’d take the hint, and leave you be.
But once you felt his erection pressing into your ass, you knew you were a goner.
There was something extremely empowering about having a man like Miguel be so needy and desperate.
He scooted closer until his breath fanned your ear. “Can you just…”
You scoffed, pride swelling inside you. “Go ask Biology to jerk you off.”
“Whawt?”
“You keep blaming it, so…”
Silence fell between you two.
His hand then came to grip your hip. “It’s you.”
“I didn’t catch that,” you said, feeling his thumb rubbing gently, as he pushed the top half of your suit increasingly higher.
He rolled his hips into you, letting out a shaky moan in your ear that had your skin raise with goosebumps.
You flipped onto your other side to fully face him, and Miguel immediately took your lips with his, kissing you hungrily.
His hand dragged the fabric all the way up until he managed to expose one breast, breaking the kiss only to move down to suck on your hardened nipple.
The thought that he might be too much vaguely crossed your mind. For the second time that night you were meeting a side of Miguel that you had never seen before.
A side you much preferred.
Your fingers dragged through his hair, silently praising him.
In no time, you watched his digital suit disintegrate, giving you full access to the beautifully sculped body underneath.
He gripped your wrist and lowered it until your fingers grazed his cock. Knowing fully well what he craved, you wrapped them around it, earning an immediate jerk of his hips.
“Miguel…” you moaned, letting him freely fuck your hand, spilling more and more precum.
He released your nipple and had his forehead resting on your shoulder, his hand on top of your, making sure you squeezed tighter and tighter.
It didn’t take long for your hand to be soaked with precum, making it easier for him to slide up and down.
You squeezed involuntarily and a gush of wetness spilled into your underwear, your body yearning for him to fill you up with his cock.
He moved his hips deliciously, and you focused on taking in the wet sounds that filled the room as well as his breathless grunts.
But such bliss was short-lived as you heard Peter bolting into the room with a swish of his web.
Well…
Miguel immediately stilled, letting go of your hand.
You didn’t let go of his cock, instead peeking over his shoulder only to find Peter rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor.
He then turned to face you, and your head immediately slumped against the pillow, eyes on Miguel’s.
“Are you okay?”
“What?”
Peter’s voice was but a whisper. “Your heart rate is accelerated.”
Ah… spider senses.
“Yeah… I’m just a bit tense… it’s fine,” you muttered, feeling Miguel’s cock twitch in your hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll take over.”
“Oh! Thank you,” he beamed. “Mayday has been giving us terrible nights, and I could use a few minutes.”
You watched as he fluffed out his pillow before settling down on his back with a yawn.
Miguel’s breathing has steadied momentarily and you eventually let go of him.
But he quickly got a hold of your wrist.
The implication of that action wasn’t exactly subtle and you widened your eyes.
“No,” you mouthed right away.
His crimson eyes had darkened and you spotted his fangs from behind his lips.
You shook your head vehemently.
This was a bad idea.
But as soon as Peter’s snores tore through the room, you felt your heart clench.
“Peter is right there… he will hear it!”
He pressed an urgent kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be quiet. I’ll help you be quiet,” he promised, pressing his cock further into your already soaked crotch.
Your eyes fluttered shut, and just as you were about to let out a low whimper, you felt his hand cover your mouth, effectively reigning it in.
“Quiet.”
The other travelled down painfully slowly, palm grazing your exposed breast briefly, before resting just above the waistline of your suit.
“You have to be quiet,” he warned in a barely audible tone.
You nodded and he lifted his hand from your lips.
“We shouldn’t…” you muttered under your breath.
But your words were not matching your actions, as you dragged your hand covered in precum across his hard chest, taking your time to gently rub his nipple with your thumb.
You thought Miguel had stopped breathing altogether, but soon realised he was merely attempting to hold back a moan.
His fingers quickly slipped past the the waistline, finding your clit and drawing small circles. You had to bite your lip hard to suppress a whimper, rolling your hips into him.
You found his cock again, gripping it desperately and giving him a few pumps that matched the tempo of his strokes.
The thrill of indulging in such experience even when someome else was in the room, and with the increased chances of being caught, merely added to the pleasure you were already feeling.
“You’re doing good,” Miguel praised you through a shaky breath. “So good…”
Impatience took over and you wiggled out of your bottom half of the suit, allowing you to grant him betterr acces, as hou parted your legs.
He immediately seized it and slipped one finger inside.
You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from groaning, eyes fluttering shut.
His breath was on your ear again. “Can you take one more?”
You nodded, not trusting your voice. A second finger immediately joined the first one, slinding inside effortlessly.
Feeling that you had managed to keep yourself under control, you dropped the hand covering your lips to grip his cock.
“And another one?”
You shook your head, fearing that would be too much. He pressed a kiss to your neck with a sigh, as he fucked your hand in a slow rhythm.
The knots of pleasure in your lower abdomen let you know that you were headed towards the precipice. You kept on riding his fingers relentlessly, your mind suddenly hazy from the feeling of being so full of him already.
“I’m close…” he mouthed, his breath shaky and cock twitching.
He had bared his fangs, and you thought you’d combust on the spot, realising he was truly overwhelmed with pleasure.
Finding your voice again, you whispered sensually, “Where do you want to cum?”
His eyed widened, pupils fully blown.
Your hips faltered briefly, grazing your clit across the palm of his hand. “Inside?”
He pressed his eyes shut and dug his fangs into his lower lip. “I won’t last.”
“I know,” you moaned, dragging thumb across his tip, feeling more droplets of warm precum coating your skin.
Peter suddenly let out a loud snore that made you jolt.
“Are you close?” Miguel asked.
“I’ll be with you inside me.”
You shifted on the mattress, and he removed his fingers from you at once, a wet sound filling the room.
Your body shuddered from the loss, but you soon felt his tip proding your entrance.
Before you could take another breath, he jerked his hips and slipped past your fold effortlessly.
His hand was on your mouth again, and this time you could taste yourself, as he struggled to keep your moans at a minimum.
It was also evident the sudden position was taking a toll on him. His steady pace was faltering with each passing second.
You soon entered the familiar point of no return, feeling an intense wave of pleasure tear from within you, blinding your vision with each pulse and contraction. It took all of your not to moan out loud even against his hand, the few shreds of sanity having a hold on you.
Miguel joined you, clearly not able to withstand the rhythmic squeezes around his cock as you reached your high.
Your caught a glimpse oh him biting the back of his other hand hard. He would for sure draw blood with his fangs, but you couldn’t even stay properly focused.
He bottomed out as deep as he could, spurts of cum coating your squeezing walls.
The two of you were struggling to breathe, shallow pants surrounding you.
“Oh my god! Butterfly!”
Peter…
You jerked away from Miguel in distress but with him still buried deep inside you, catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the floor, breathing rapidly.
“Go back to sleep. It was just a dream,” you said with a smile.
Miguel pulled you into an embrace. “You did good.”
“Me? Not Biology?”
He scowled deeply.
“You can slide out now…” you whispered with a yawn.
Miguel didn’t move. “I want to stay a little longer likes this.”
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theoldsports · 5 months
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married.
Coriolanus Snow x reader | 5.5k words
alcohol makes consent messy, substance abuse, manipulation, arranged marriage, public humiliation, two-way abusive relationship <3
Coriolanus may well replace Lupin as my favorite guy to write for. he’s fucked up. i can’t fix him, but i could certainly make him worse.
As quietly as possible, [Y/N] closed the door to Coriolanus’s lavish new apartment behind her. She didn’t particularly want him to know that she had left the apartment in the first place. There were always too many questions.
[Y/N] had recently moved in with Coriolanus since their engagement. Her parents had arranged their marriage with his grandmother, affectionately called the Grandma’am not long before she passed. Coriolanus was about the most desirable bachelor in the Capitol. Not only was he an excessively handsome twenty-three year old, but he was also growing increasingly wealthy and had recently received his first assignment as a Gamemaker working on creating a new arena structure for the Hunger Games. Everyone who was anyone in polite society knew of Coriolanus Snow.
And [Y/N] hated him with everything she had. She had to see his defiant smirk in school every day for years since they were twelve or so. She hid from him every chance she got at home. [Y/N] slept in another room away from him. The only advantage of their marriage were the politics and name recognition for the both of them.
“I didn’t realize you were going out.” Coriolanus said flatly, snapping [Y/N] from her thoughts. She hadn’t even realized he had been in the apartment’s common area. He was sitting calmly in an putrid-looking armchair, alarmingly still.
[Y/N] gasped and clutched her chest in surprise. “Is there a problem with my leaving?” She said quickly.
“No problem.”
[Y/N] looked at him curiously. “Okay.” She said and moved passed him to her bedroom.
After a moment of pause, Coriolanus appeared in her doorway. He leaned against her doorframe with a hand in his pocket. “Where were you, by the way?” He asked plainly.
“I don’t see how that’s your business.”
“It was beginning to get late. Our engagement party’s in two hours. I cannot very well attend an engagement event without my fiancée. So. Where were you?”
“Dry cleaner’s.”
Coriolanus let out a scoff. [Y/N] could see him get hot under the collar. “You expect me to believe you were—Where’s the laundry?” Coriolanus questioned.
[Y/N] reached into her coat pocket for the stub of her laundry receipt. “Dropping off, not picking up. You’re on Lucky Flickerman’s next week. Dropping off my dress ahead of time. Anything left you would like to accuse me of?” [Y/N] sighed, leaned against her desk chair.
“Do not speak to me like that,” Coriolanus begun, sighing. It was obvious that he felt undue humiliation from her response. “It’s childish and unbecoming.”
“So is your being a hypocrite.” [Y/N] snapped back instantly.
The pair fought daily. Never had Snow laid a hand on her, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he did one day. [Y/N] didn’t recall any particular fights he had been involved in at the Academy, but it doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.
“Stop acting like a child!” Coriolanus repeated. “Are we not allowed one remotely pleasant moment together? You know I don’t want this just as much as you, but here we are. Can’t we be civil?”
“I am capable of civility, yes. You, on the other hand…”
“You’re disgusting. You don’t know how to listen. It blows me away. I asked you a simple question that a married couple should ask the other when one is gone. Now you’re screaming at me like a little girl. Grow up.”
“Grow up? You wanna talk about childish; you’re selfish, demanding, and cold. I’m scared to death of you. You make me feel like a toy, not a person, Coriolanus. I was always pretty fucking certain children had toys, not grownups.”
“Good gracious… Fine! Be that way. Cause a fucking scene!” Coriolanus screamed. His temper flared. He got that look in his eye that only men can get when they lose something they wanted. “My coat and tie are black. I’m assuming you’re not intending to clash or something, so just letting you know. Y’know. Communication. The polite thing to do.” He reported and stormed out of her room to his own. Her door slammed so hard behind him that she feared in may splinter off its hinges. What must the neighbors think of them?
[Y/N] resisted the urge to shout for Coriolanus to drop dead.
She was left to ready herself alone. As she pulled out her dress (that wouldn’t look foul against Coriolanus’s coat and tie) from the closet, she caught a glimpse of the engagement ring on her finger. White gold with a moderately sized ruby set in the middle. She was told both the gold and the stone were real, but she had her doubts to some extent. She found it was difficult to believe anything Coriolanus said. The ring made it clear that Coriolanus didn’t truly know [Y/N] because she had always worn silver jewelry. She felt isolated from all her prior jewelry pieces as now, none of them matched.
Then, [Y/N] stepped into her dress. A flowing black ballgown with a full petticoat and a glittery exterior over the fine satin it was made from. She couldn’t quite complete the buttons running up the dress’s back. She sat down at a small vanity Coriolanus had purchased her to do her hair and makeup. She assumed he would be hard pressed by the fact she couldn’t button the back of her own ballgown; that she was incapable or needy.
After dragging kohl and shadows over her eyelids, among other things, she set out to find the correct pair of shoes to match the dress.
The problem with dressing to match Coriolanus is that he was excessively tall. This meant every dress had to be accompanied by the tallest heels one could find. [Y/N]’s ankles ached just thinking about a night in shoes like that again. With her makeup done and her dress unbuttoned down the back, [Y/N] set out to find the red heels Coriolanus had purchased for her. She sat unceremoniously on the floor with her large skirt fluffed out around her to dig in her closet for the shoes.
Coriolanus was fastening his white gold and ruby cufflinks that matched [Y/N]’s engagement ring when he knocked at her door.
“Yes, what?” She shouted from the floor.
Coriolanus pulled the door open without asking if she was decent. “I was going to ask if you were ready, but I can see that you aren’t.” He sighed. Coriolanus never apologized after a fight, instead he tried to placate in whatever way possible. He was incapable of an apology, [Y/N] thought. Whether it was buying her something, taking her out, helping her find something she had lost, that’s what he would do to ease his own guilt. If he could feel guilt.
[Y/N] sighed as well. She was unwilling to engage in verbal sparring with him now. She lowered her head in a visual show of defeat. “I can’t find my other shoe,” She said weakly. “The red ones you got me.”
“The red heels?” He asked quietly. Coriolanus perceived she was not much in the mood for his attitude, and felt his residual anger cool off several degrees.
[Y/N] nodded hopelessly. She didn’t want to go to the engagement party. She didn’t want to be marrying Coriolanus under terms such as these. [Y/N] felt like property and everything hurt.
“Let me look,” Coriolanus said. What he meant to say was ‘I’m sorry for everything,’ but what he said was: “I’ll help you look. Don’t wrinkle your dress, alright?”
[Y/N] stood up awkwardly, holding the falling bodice of her dress up. She felt uncomfortable being so vulnerable in front of him like this. “Sorry, I couldn’t button the back.” She said. With her free hand, she reached around the back of the dress in an attempt to close it.
“Don’t apologize. I’ll get it. Turn,” Coriolanus commanded plainly. [Y/N] did as he said. He notched the buttons down her back with ease. “You should’ve called for help. I didn’t realize you were struggling.” He said. He patted her shoulder to signify he was done with the back of her dress. Coriolanus moved in front of her closet and bent down to find the missing left red shoe.
It was silent for a moment. “Of course you weren’t aware I was struggling.”
Coriolanus offered no reply. He understood what she meant.
“Aha!” He said after a few moments, holding up a matching set of shoes. Coriolanus placed them on the floor in front of her so she could step into them. He offered [Y/N] a hand for stability as she did so.
“Thank you,” she said. “Hey, Coriolanus?”
“Hm?”
“Are you nervous?”
“No,” he replied, standing up from the carpeted floor. “Are you?” Coriolanus’s blue eyes were piercingly inquisitive. Eyes that didn’t want to know you, but to consume you.
“Yes.”
“Really? Why?” Coriolanus asked. It didn’t feel rude or hot-tempered. It was merely a plain question. It made [Y/N] feel safe to answer, even though she remained guarded.
“I’m presenting myself as the soon-to-be wife of the most important thirty-under-thirty in the Capitol in an arranged marriage. And you hate me. You have hated me since we were children. My life is over, Coriolanus. This is for you and for my family’s honor, evidently. What do I have left?”
“You think I hate you?” Coriolanus asked, bending his neck to look at [Y/N]. “I don’t hate you.” [Y/N] wasn’t sure how truthful the statement was.
“Well, at least, you don’t like me.”
Curiously, Coriolanus placed a hand on her neck and dragged his thumb across [Y/N]’s jawline. “That’s such shit, [Y/N]. I didn’t realize you thought that of me. That you… Felt that way at all,” he started carefully. “Rather, and this sounds silly, I enjoy arguing with you. I sort of thought you did as well. You’re ruthless, I admire that,” He smirked and paused for a breath. “I do like you. Believe it, or not. I’ll just have to figure out a way to show you better,” Coriolanus’ hand slid from [Y/N]’s throat, down her side and back to eventually rest at her waist. She blinked up at him, surprised at the luxury of such unexpected contact from him. “Your life is not over. You wanna work, work. You want to not work, stay home. Please, allow me to do what I can for you. I can open doors. Whatever you want, name it. Things, opportunity,” [Y/N] nodded at the word ‘opportunity.’ “You’re meant to be my wife and I’m… really, I’m one of the best resources there is around here. Let me use that advantage. Had I known sooner, I wouldn’t have wasted all that time and money buying you things you hate.” He attempted a casual joke, holding her too close to him.
They were closer physically than they had ever been. Due to their proximity, [Y/N] had to rest her hands on Coriolanus’ chest as she stared up at him. She didn’t know what to say, so she nodded and straightened the red rose at his lapel. “You just might get yourself that unified front with me if you bring home your work…”
“You’re interested in Gamemaking? Since when?”
[Y/N] rolled her eyes. “We’re going to be late. We can speak about this later.”
“By all means.” Coriolanus leaned down awkwardly and kissed her. Maybe it was out of duty, maybe out of desire. Neither of them knew. They had shared the occasional peck on the lips for social reasons before, but this felt a bit different. It was charged somehow. A promise.
When they separated, [Y/N] stared at Coriolanus. He was all eyes - blue, blue, blue. He blinked at her. She blinked back. “Come on, we’ll be late to our own party.”
The whole ride to the event venue, Coriolanus had kept his hand on [Y/N]’s thigh. This was an unusual gesture. Normally, he didn’t chance touching her, even by accident. It was an unspoken agreement to keep their distance.
“I’m gonna be sick.” [Y/N] groaned into her palm as she exited the vehicle, led by Coriolanus toward the door of the event hall. The building had been destroyed when they were children in the war and had been recently restored to its former glory.
“Same thing as earlier, or did you decide I’m the worst person on earth?”
“Same as before. Haven’t decided about the second thing. My parents are going to be here too. You remember them?”
“Yes. I’ve met them… Twice, I believe—”
“Tread carefully.” [Y/N] said, offering no additional support.
Coriolanus nodded in solemn understanding. His eyebrows knitted together, knowing one more nasty, exhausting troublespot would be in his way tonight. He hated social gatherings as much as [Y/N]. With all the gentleness he could muster, Coriolanus took her hand. “Heading inside… Unified front?”
“If I must.” [Y/N] said.
With that, the night took off. Bright flashing cameras reflected off the black and white marble of the building, and applause rang off the large, cavernous walls. Everyone was shaking their hands, greeting and congratulating them, and stopping them for overly pictures at every turn. For a moment, [Y/N] truly believed that everything in her life was perfect, because everyone around her seemed to assume that it was. It made the pill of her future easier to swallow.
Coriolanus led her around the room with ease. He introduced her to many individuals whose names she would not remember tomorrow. She was beginning to develop a stunning routine of artifice with him as Coriolanus puppeted her around the room. Each interaction functioned with a greeting from Coriolanus to the stranger, he would remove his arm from [Y/N]’s waist and drag it down her arm into her hand in order for her to showcase her striking gown. Then he would say “isn’t my fiancée beautiful?” or “isn’t she just divine?” or “what a lucky man am I?” [Y/N] would chuckle and compliment him back with “my Coriolanus, ever the charmer!” or “isn’t he just divine?” or “what a lucky woman am I?” accordingly. They would smile sickeningly and pretend they were in love, he would lean in and kiss [Y/N] on the cheek, and she laugh warmly at his ‘spontaneity’ and place a hand on his chest, or straighten his tie.
After that, they would move on to greet the next poor sucker and repeat the process.
Eventually, [Y/N] dragged Coriolanus off to the side so she could relax her artificial grin. “Sorry, I need a moment. My face hurts. And that last man and his wife, was that his wife? They stunk. They smelled so foul it is unreal.”
Coriolanus smirked. “Those were my next door neighbors growing up. Vile. They’re very heavy morphling users, if you couldn’t tell with the glazed over look and twitchy eyebrow.” Coriolanus mocked.
[Y/N] laughed, hard. “Oh, you’re terrible!” She jeered. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for morphling tonight…”
“Don’t tell me you’re a junkie, now.” Coriolanus pressed.
“Junkie is such a strong word…”
“Well, since I can’t get you high out of your mind at the moment, best I can offer is posca. I can grab you a glass and you can hide from the onslaught for a moment.” Coriolanus offered.
“Please. A particularly stiff glass if you can swing it. Or whiskey!” [Y/N] said. She watched Coriolanus turn to leave for the bar. [Y/N] tucked herself in a corner behind a noble Corinthian column for a moment of peace. A few people came and went that she greeted with that 1000-watt fake smile of hers, but she was mostly left unbothered. [Y/N] caught sight of a clock and realized Coriolanus had been gone for several minutes longer than he should have. She excused herself from talking to some old woman that claimed to be some distant great aunt or something of Coriolanus’ and set off to locate him and her posca.
Cutting through the crowd, [Y/N] spotted tall Coriolanus over most everyone’s heads, holding two glasses of posca, and speaking to her parents.
Fuck.
Her parents.
[Y/N] rushed sharply towards Coriolanus. She stopped short of approaching. She wanted to listen in for a moment to what they might be saying. [Y/N] knew her parents were of the socially treacherous sort. She turned her back to them and stood, pretending she didn’t know they were there.
“…Hasn’t given you too much trouble.” She heard her mother laugh.
Coriolanus laughed uncomfortably back. “Ha, not too much, no,” He said. “She’s quite fiery, for lack of a better word, though. Tough. She’s a tough woman.”
“You’re a strong young man, Coriolanus. I’m sure you’ll find a way to put her in her place. You can’t have her compromise your image and all that, you know. She can just be so destructive.” Her father said.
[Y/N] felt her heart sink. The positive interactions she had with Coriolanus were slipping out of her mind by the second in overhearing the conversation.
“Ah, yes sir,” Coriolanus said. “We’ve got a whole lifetime for—“
[Y/N] turned around and stomped over to Coriolanus. “There you are!” She said, returning that winning smile to her lips. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, dear,” [Y/N] the pet name coming from her mouth made her nauseous. She grasped Coriolanus’ arm firmly. “And you got me a drink? You really are a dear, aren’t you?” She smiled and turned to her parents. Coriolanus felt tense beside her; she could feel it in the muscles in his arm.
Both her mother and father embraced her lovingly. “Oh, [Y/N], you look beautiful as ever.” Her mother said.
“Thank you,” [Y/N] said flatly, not returning the compliment. “If you’ll excuse us, there was someone else I wanted Coriolanus to meet. We’ll be back around soon. Love you!” She muttered, pulling Coriolanus away from her parents.
“Give me that.” She said, as soon as they were out of earshot, taking the glass of posca from Coriolanus.
“They’re…” he started in reference to her parents.
“Dreadful. I know,” [Y/N] heart felt broken. She didn’t even have a chance with Coriolanus without their humiliating influence. She didn’t want to dive into rationalizing his overheard conversation. So she just morosely stared down at the floor.
“They’re cruel to you,” he remarked as [Y/N] drank. “They told me I should work on breaking your spirit.”
[Y/N] took a long drink from her glass. “Are you going to? Break my spirit, I mean.”
“Haven’t decided,” Coriolanus replied. “Is tonight terrible so far for you?”
“Absolutely and unendingly.”
“Shame, since it’s supposed to be for us,” Coriolanus frowned. “Here’s what we’ll do. Drink up and we’ll dance. You told me you liked to dance once. Still true?”
“Uh, yes. You remember that?” The truth was that Coriolanus forgot very little.
“Too much talking, not enough drinking.” He replied, reaching out to tip the stem of her posca glass up, forcing the drink towards her lips.
“You’re a dick.” [Y/N] snapped. Her voice echoed from the round glass at her mouth.
“Never heard that one before.” Coriolanus said sarcastically.
A total of five empty posca glasses were settled on a cocktail table between them after about forty-five minutes of chatter and drinking. Coriolanus seemed looser than before, but focused as ever. The third glass, and the last half of Coriolanus’ second, had sent [Y/N] over the edge into drunkness, however.
“Dance with me now?” [Y/N] slurred slightly.
Coriolanus held his hand out as an affirmative response. She took it and he led her towards the dance floor. “FYI, I’m going to lead. You’re falling apart.” He leaned in to whisper teasingly as they approached the shiny wooden floor.
“If you’re shit at this, I reserve the right to take over as lead.”
“You have zero faith in me,” Coriolanus said, grabbing her too firmly in a waltz hold. She placed her hand on his broad shoulder. “Don’t think, just follow. I’ve got you.” He said, staring at her. Blue, blue, blue eyes, completely unreadable. Coriolanus sloppily led her around the dance floor, keeping the spins to a minimum. Sober, he was probably a fairly decent dancer. [Y/N] was reflexively a fine dancer as well, but a bit sloppier than normal. The thing that was actually holding back her dancing abilities, were the damn red heels. Her feet ached and she didn’t think she would be able to keep up with much more than a waltz in them.
The next song began after only half the length she had expected from a waltz, [Y/N]. It was a brisk foxtrot; all reliant on footwork. As Coriolanus led her into the first sidestep, [Y/N] kicked off her heels without missing a step. She harshly kicked them aside, sliding them to the edge of the dance floor. [Y/N] found she felt tiny now in front of Coriolanus. His smirk doubled at the sight as well. “Better?”
“Much. How about you shrink six inches next time so I don’t have to grow six inches. Seems fair to me.”
Coriolanus laughed cordially. His laugh turned into a sigh when he noticed [Y/N]’s lack of reply. “Are you angry with me?” He was aware that she usually was angry with him, he was asking specifically she to the conversation with her parents.
“Yes, why?”
“Because you’re being extremely rude.” Coriolanus said sharply.
“And?”
“No reason, just making conversation.”
Coriolanus couldn’t figure out what [Y/N] was looking at over his shoulder, but he didn’t care enough to ask. “Wanna make it up to me?” [Y/N] asked. “Posca wasn’t enough.”
“I’ll consider it. The terms?” He replied, spinning her through a tempo change.
“I want to make my parents hurt. I don’t live under their roof anymore. She’s been staring at me since I took my shoes off. See? I’m embarrassing her. And you know how big you owe me.”
This gave Coriolanus pause. Really, he didn’t owe her anything worth a damn. She was as bad to him as he was to her. “Why?”
“You said you could grant me opportunity. Grant me the opportunity of making her feel a fool for making me marry you, Coriolanus. I’m drunk. This offer is only going to work right now.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Blowjob.”
“I have an idea,” Coriolanus said immediately. [Y/N] grinned. His job was having wicked, awful ideas, so it was nice when he delivered. “Do you trust me?”
“No.”
“By the end of tonight, you will,” Coriolanus grimaced. He rotated the pair of them on the dance floor so [Y/N]’s back was to them and he could keep eyes on her parents. “I’m going to touch you.” He whispered in her ear when the music shifted to something more akin to a rumba.
“What?”
In seconds, [Y/N] felt Coriolanus’ nose slide from where he had whispered in her ear and down her neck to above her pulse point. He planted one kiss to her throat. Coriolanus waited before kissing her again to make sure she didn’t throw him halfway across the event hall in rage first. After that, he felt he had the go-ahead to work more forcefully. Coriolanus sensually kissed hard up and down the right side of [Y/N]’s throat, while both of them tried to keep their fuzzy brains clear enough to keep dancing. He kept kissing and sucking at her neck until she let out a nice loud sound of pleasure. That was when he pulled away. He was happy to see a nice purple bruise starting to form on her exposed neck.
“How was that?” He asked dryly, trying to hold off a pending erection.
“You’re out of your mind. Do it again.”
“I’m pretty sure my boss is here, [Y/N]. That was… great, but unless there’s—“
“We got lectured our entire growing up at the Academy to make sure we were to be winners by any means necessary, Coriolanus. Push the envelope. It’s our night. We can do whatever we want. Let’s make it count, at least. With all these cameras here? You keep this up, and your face will be on every periodical in Panem.”
“Yeah, for terrible reasons!”
“Any press is good press and you know that. ‘TROUBLE IN THE ARENA?: GAMEMAKER’S FIANCÉE BREAKS DOWN AT PARTY,’” she said, showing a fictional headline example. “Below it, a nice picture of me crying and you dusting me off like a dutiful husband. Have your way with me and eventually I’ll snap and cry and accuse you of something you didn’t do, then you can ‘put me in place,’ so to speak. Control the fucking news cycle til everyone knows your name.”
[Y/N] could tell that Coriolanus had in fact agreed to gamble with his image when his hand slid down her back and grabbed her ass. His mouth ducked back into her neck as well, biting harder than [Y/N] expected. [Y/N] let out a painfully loud moan without meaning to.
“You want a show, let’s give ‘em a show.” He muttered against her skin. Coriolanus pulled his hips flush against his. The fabric of her ballgown being the only meaningful barrier between them. After a few moments, they had given up any chance at a rumba. Coriolanus stood over her, kissing her bruisingly hard anywhere we could reach.
“Coriolanus,” [Y/N] muttered. She gripped his shoulder tightly to steady herself. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Coriolanus took his hand out of the one that was clutching hers and slid it up to grab her face harshly between thumb and forefinger. “Can you shut up for a minute? I’ve let you run your mouth all day. It’s getting annoying,” He said, the mask of kindness slipping from his eyes. “You have had a complaint about everything. I put up with it, too. It’s getting… really,” Coriolanus’ hand gripped her ass harder over the ballgown. “Fucking annoying. You’re already making me do all this because I’m a dick. Stop being a brat. Please keep your mouth closed until I want it open, okay?”
He was holding her face so tightly that she couldn’t even nod. That’s when she saw the cameras start flashing, as Coriolanus gripped her by the face like a spoiled child and rubbed her ass in front of everyone she knew. “Yes.” She tried to mumble, but it came out squished.
“Great, then, we’re clear. Don’t think, just follow.” Coriolanus leaned forward and kissed her blazingly. That’s around the time [Y/N] could hear her mother in hysterics stomping to the bathroom. She sighed with relief, but also burned with humiliation. It felt like Coriolanus was practically trying to fuck her with her clothes on.
[Y/N] couldn’t believe this. This wasn’t brutally argumentative Snow, this wasn’t pseudo-gentle Snow. Who was this? What the fuck was he doing? Why did it feel good? [Y/N] felt a shiver tingle down her spine as he kissed her. Aggressively, she kissed back in an attempt at delivering that ruthlessness Coriolanus said he prized. He squashed that quickly and leaned her back, almost knocking her off her feet. She pulled back breathlessly.
[Y/N]’s eyes were darting around the room, watching everyone watching her. She was the show tonight. For the first time in her life, someone had made her the real center of attention that she always craved to me. Coriolanus granted her opportunity. It fucking worked. Her gaze shot back to Coriolanus, looking down at her possessively. He was mouthing something to her, but her intoxicated brain couldn’t signal her eyes to focus enough to piece together his words.
“What?” She whispered, leaning away from him.
More clearly this time, Coriolanus mouthed. “Hit. Me,” He leaned in close to her ear and whispered. “I told you. I’m leading; I have an idea.”
[Y/N] started to shake her head ‘no’ at her insane exhibitionist fiancé, but she remembered she was the one that had asked for a show. Without asking why, [Y/N] feigned disgust and stepped away from Coriolanus. She raised her hand and sharply slapped him across the face. This elicited gasps of shock from their guests. She could see a red mark beginning to develop on Coriolanus’ fair cheek.
Violence like this is what people in the Districts did. This was not what well-bred, promising youth from the Capitol did. The chatter in the room grew in the form of prying hushed whispers. The band stopped playing. This was not how beautiful young girls behaved at their engagement parties. [Y/N]’s stomach dropped. She looked angrily between her vile hand and the mark on Coriolanus’ face. Both of their expressions showed that she had hit him harder than they expected.
“How many men, [Y/N]?” Coriolanus asked, forcefully.
“What?” [Y/N] asked, shocked. She had no idea what he was talking about.
“How many men have had you behind my back?”
It was a fucking act. No truth to it at all. He wanted a rise out of her and so did the cameras. This was exactly what she had asked him, she didn’t realize how seriously he would take her.
[Y/N] sighed. She understood her role and she was going to play it perfectly. “One. Only one, I swear. None since you caught us in bed.” Lie. “Stop. We’re…” she glanced around, playing ashamed of the cameras. “We’re in public, Coriolanus. Please. Don’t cause a scene.” She said, parroting what he had said to her that morning.
That line did the trick. She saw the vein in his forehead pop out. “Don’t cause a scene? You struck me!” Coriolanus roared. “That’s unfair, and you know it.” The ghost of a smirk played on his lips while he clutched his face.
“You wouldn’t hear reason! The accusations you made of me, Coriolanus. You—You—“
Coriolanus surged forward and grabbed her by her forearms. “Accusations that are warranted. I don’t know how you expect me to trust you after something like that! Do you think I’m made of stone?”
“Yes!” [Y/N] yelled truthfully.
Coriolanus paused. “[Y/N], I hurt just as much as you do. You’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight,” He placated. “I just can’t stand to see how these men look at you like that, knowing you would trade me for them in a heartbeat.” He brought the tempo of their fight down with his false melancholy.
“Coriolanus…” [Y/N] said tentatively. “I wouldn’t… Not now. We’ve put that behind us. I-I’m yours and—“
“I made this whole night about you. I…” Coriolanus swallowed dramatically. “I love you.” Lie? “I love you, I spend all night trying to show you that I don’t want anyone but you. I try to make you feel special so you won’t stray again. And you, you hit me… I can’t do anything right enough for you.” He turned his face away, feigning hiding tears and released her arms.
Without the stabilizing touch of Coriolanus, [Y/N] was starting to feel uncertain on her feet from the alcohol. Far from gracefully, [Y/N] sank to the floor, her skirt fanning out around her as it had when she was searching for her shoe earlier that evening. From the drink, the tension and the state of her shambling life, [Y/N] let out an unexpected sob. Coriolanus turned his head in genuine surprise at the sound. “I’m sorry, my love,” she started through sniffles. “I’m sorry. Forgive me,” She looked up at him as her mascara began to drip down her cheeks. “Please forgive me. You have every right to leave, but please, Coriolanus, you’re all I have left.” That part was true. It was all gone. Her childhood home, the security of her parents, university and the Academy were behind her, taxing relationships with friends she had outgrown. Coriolanus was all that remained. [Y/N] cried harder. “I made a mistake.” She howled.
Coriolanus was impressed, to say the least. Cautiously, he knelt down in front of [Y/N]. He would remember this image of her for his whole life. With her mascara running, her stockings ripped, her shoes long missing, the top of her extravagant dress sliding too low for public consumption, she was divine, truthfully. That was her. That was how he would always want to remember her. “Darling?” He said quietly.
Now, the bastard was left open to play the dutiful savior, just as she had teased earlier.
[Y/N] started to twist the engagement ring off of her finger, theatrically. Coriolanus took her obvious bait and took her hand to stop her. He slid the ruby ring back down her finger calmly. “Darling, I’m not going anywhere. You’re drunk. You just need a little help, right? You mustn’t drink so much. It breaks my heart to see you like this,” Coriolanus squeezed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly. “You need me. I’m not going anywhere. What kind of husband would that make me if I did?”
She nodded. “Thank you,” she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’re a good man, Coriolanus,” LIE. “You’re too good to me.”
“Come on,” Coriolanus rose from the floor and extended a hand to her. “Let’s get you home, huh?” He said condescendingly.
[Y/N] took his hand carefully. He pulled her up and she stumbled to her feet. Coriolanus wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and pulled her closer. He glanced around in surprise to address the crowd that had gathered in front of them. “I’m sorry for everything you just had to see. Please be kind to my fiancée; she’s had a lot to drink. Posca, right?” Coriolanus darkly attempted a somber joke. “I should’ve kept a closer eye on her. We’ll be getting home. Thank you all for coming out to celebrate us tonight.” Sorry to call it a night with so much night left.” He said softly.
Coriolanus led her to the edge of the dance floor where he had spotted her shoes. He grabbed the red shoes from the floor and carried them dangling from his free hand as he walked her to the door and down the stairs to the sidewalk. [Y/N] had a vague memory of Coriolanus summoning their driver via the valet at the door. She was too busy noticing how her stockings caught on the sidewalk with every step.
“Darling?” Coriolanus whispered, leaning down to whisper to her. “You were brilliant.”
“Really?” She sniffled hesitantly. “Because I’m fairly certain that everyone in that room hates me.”
“Any press is good press.” Coriolanus reminded her with a gentle kiss to the forehead.
“For you, maybe. I made a mistake asking for that…” she kicked at a stray stone on the sidewalk. “I am probably the biggest villain in Panem right now.” [Y/N] said, shaking her head a little with a sad laugh.
“Not a villain,” Coriolanus scoffed. “A star.”
PART II HERE
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tragedybunny · 6 months
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Something Like Love - Astarion x F!Reader
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Astarion has failed to seduce you, but even so, a bond has begun to grow between the two of you. It all comes to a head when Astarion almost loses you.
You infuriated Astarion. At first it was because stopping to help every person you happened upon was delaying dealing with his problems. Now that you had been traveling together for some time, not only were these little side adventures a delay, but you didn’t seem to be careful about how much they took out of you and how tired they left you. Even your other companions didn’t seem to care, letting you agree to solve every problem that you came upon and even adding to the pile.
But not him. Astarion was always right there at your side with a glare and a snapping refusal, which you’d usually brush off, but at least he tried. The rest of them just smiled and nodded, without noticing the circles under your eyes, or how slow you moved some mornings, or how thin you’d gotten. Protector wasn’t a position he normally found himself in, but you were different, you were kind to him, without expecting anything in return, as far as he could tell anyway. The two of you hadn’t even slept together, not for lack of trying on his part. The couple times he’d tried you firmly refused, and yet somehow you stayed kind to him, even still offering him your blood. In fact you didn’t seem to want anyone in camp. That was also exasperating. How could he expect your continued kindness, and protection which he desperately needed, without repayment? And what was he better at than sex?
So he resolved he’d give you whatever small gestures he could. Whenever you tore an item of clothing, he’d mend it at first chance. When the group made camp for the night, he always made sure your tent was up first, in whatever spot you wanted, and helped you pack when it was time to move on. Every battle, he stood at the backline with you while you cast spells, aiming arrows at anyone who got too close to you, his first priority keeping you safe. And he still tried to keep you from overextending yourself, despite no one ever listening to him. Which had led to the shouting match with Halsin earlier. Well it wasn’t really a shouting match, the Druid had remained frustratingly placid in the face of Astarion’s blustering. He’d already been vocally unhappy about looking for this Thaniel or whatever, but you’d found him, and still Halsin asked more. “We need to worry about Thorm, we don’t have time to keep bothering with this!”
“Curing the land could help break Thorm’s hold. I know you all don’t owe it to me.” Gods why did he ask like that, all humble and dissembling. You would cave to that for sure,
“You’re right, we don’t.”
“But…”
“Hells, can’t you see how much all of this is taking out of her!” Astarion had exploded, voice loud enough that some of your other companions jumped.
“It’s fine Astarion,” you’d gently placed a hand on his arm, “let’s finish this.”
With a frustrated growl, he’d yanked his arm away, regretting the hurt on your face. “Fine.”
That all led to this moment, you’d fended off the creatures summoned by the corrupted spirit, and Astarion watches as you calmly approach it. Speaking softly, your words soothe it, and he could see it starting to trust you. As always, you amaze him with your ability to solve things with your words, but he feels a twinge of something else, a want for something like those kind words that fell from your lips so easily. The spirit vanishes and Astarion finally feels a bit of relief it seems over. That is until your knees give way and you collapse to the jagged paving stones beneath you.
He's at your side instantly, a scream tearing itself from his throat. “Somebody fucking help her.”
Shadowheart js the first to respond, hands peeling away the light armor you wear, revealing gashes left by one of those shadow creatures that had gotten close. Teeth bite down into his lip to hold back a sob, he hadn’t even noticed, he’d failed the one duty he had. That ire finds a new target easy enough though, as Halsin attempts to join Shadowheart in tending to you. He’s barely started to kneel next to you when Astarion lunges, hissing and fangs flashing. “No you stay the fuck away from her, this is your fault!” For a second his face falls with guilt, but Astarion is in no state for empathy, all blame now on the Druid in his mind.
Hands fight to grab hold of him, to get close enough to tear his thick throat out. A pair of strong arms wraps around his waist, pulling him back from his murderous goal. “Easy Fangs, she’ll be alright,” Karlach tries to reassure him.
He struggles against her iron hold, still flinging curses and furious words. “That’s not the point, this shouldn’t have happened. But no one wanted to listen to me, none of you selfish idiots care when you’re asking too much!”
That was it, they’d all turn on him now, especially without you aware enough to defend him. To his surprise, Karlach just holds him slightly tighter, and keeps whispering that it was going to be fine. Wyll comes over to lay a hand on his shoulder, face stoic. "Shadowheart has this.”
At least Halsin has stepped back, expression troubled. Good, let him suffer. A spell glows in Shadowheart’s hands, suturing back together your skin, and your eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, for a moment before closing again. Karlach wisely releases him, leaving him free to hover over you and ward off Halsin as he takes a hesitant step toward you. He’d be damned if anyone else was carrying you, the lot of them were untrustworthy. Reverently, he leans down, taking you in his arms, and lifting you from the ground. Gods, you were so small, there was almost nothing to you. How did you seem so imposing most of the time?
Silently, the group makes it’s way back to camp, Astarion holding tightly to you the whole way. When they reach the cluster of tents, he goes straight to yours to lay you down gently in your blankets. Turning back to the rest of the party he snarls in their direction. "All of you better stay the hells out of this tent until she's properly healed," he snaps the tent flap shut and wishes he had a door to slam on their faces.
Sitting down next to you, he pulls your hand into his and tried to forget about the stinging in his eyes. "You're going to be alright Darling. You have to be."
For hours he sits there, hand holding yours, waiting, watching your chest rise and fall, the reassurance he hadn’t lost you. Losing you, he can’t even fathom it. His protector, companion, he'd even go so far as to say friend. Even if you didn't notice how he was always at your side whenever you stayed up to launder your clothes, or how you never took a turn to cook alone, or how he was always walking right next to you on the road.
You sigh in your sleep and he feels a tug in that place that sometimes wonders if you could be more than friends. Which was stupid, you hadn't even wanted sex with him. Besides, what you already gave him was more than he deserved considering what he had been planning after sleeping with you.
Finally, exhausted, he drifts into meditation, still holding onto you, until your sleep heavy voice pulls him out of it. "Astarion?"
His eyes are wide immediately and without a second thought, he throws himself into your arms, nuzzling into your neck. "You're awake." Then he starts crying like an idiot; ugly, undignified sobs against your skin. "I was worried," he tries to explain leaping on you and his ridiculous tears.
"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you." You put your arms around him, accepting him without question, like always.
"You silly, silly girl, you were the one that almost died. Don't apologize to me." He's trying desperately to stop bawling uncontrollably.
"I know, but I don't like to see you upset." Ever so lightly, he can feel your hand brushing through his hair.
"Why," he's managed to get himself somewhat under control, but doesn't move from where you've let him lay. "Why are you like this? Always giving, even when it's too much for you?"
You hesitate for a moment. "Because I care about you."
"You do," he asks, unwilling to let himself believe what he's heard.
"Well, I care about everyone," of course he should've realized, "but I care about you a very great deal, Astarion."
Astarion freezes, the words leaving warmth in that secret place inside that he's been trying to keep from himself and you. "I don't understand."
"I see you. I see how hard you try and how far you've come, and how much you try to do for me." There's a smile in your voice and impossibly he thinks it has something to do with him.
"Why didn't you say anything?" His hand searches yours out and your fingers interwine.
"I didn't think you were ready to hear it. But today it was almost too late to tell you." You've placed both of your hands over your chest and he can feel your heartbeat.
"I…I don't know how I feel." Inwardly, he quails, worried that will drive you. "But this is nice."
"It's alright Astarion, there's no rush to this." Impulsively, he leans up to leave a feather light kiss on your cheek, grateful for you in ways he can't understand.
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atyourmerci · 25 days
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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩
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Abby X reader X Ellie
Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)
☀︎ ☀︎
Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.
Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader
A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)
✩ ✩
“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”
She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.
A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.
What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.
The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.
Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.
Well she thought she did…and then she met you.
In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.
Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.
She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.
“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”
You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.
You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.
And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.
Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.
Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.
She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.
17
As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.
Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.
Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.
You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.
Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.
You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.
That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.
“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.
She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”
You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”
She trails off, “h-have you?”
“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”
Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”
It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.
“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.
Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.
After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.
You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.
Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.
People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.
“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”
18
Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.
Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.
Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.
Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.
But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.
She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.
In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.
“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.
“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.
“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”
“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”
“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.
“M-mine too,” she admits.
“You can fix it- if you need to.”
“A-re you going to stop yours?”
“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.
“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.
Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.
Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.
Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.
As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.
Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.
That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.
Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.
That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.
“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.
It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.
The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.
From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.
You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.
Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.
“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.
Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.
“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.
Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.
She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.
“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.
“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.
You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”
You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.
With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.
Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.
“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.
“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.
“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.
“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.
You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.
You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.
The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.
“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”
19
“Does she make you feel them?”
She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.
Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.
She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.
When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”
“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.
You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.
“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.
You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?
Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.
Until abby found them.
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Related to this work
Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it
Moodboard
If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)
Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody
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jaylver · 1 year
Text
WIN ONE WIN ME — L.HS
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SYNOPSIS: who knew being angry and impulsive can get the captain of the hockey team to notice you? cussing them out when they were losing wasn't the best idea, but it definitely made lee heeseung's head turn, leading to him making a deal with you to win a game in order to get your number. but that wasn't enough for him, he was determined to make you his.
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PAIRINGS: ice hockey player!heeseung x afab!reader
GENRE: strangers to lovers, college sports au, romance
WARNING(S): profanities, violence (fight), suggestive content (no smut), heeseung is a retired fuckboy turned good + y/n is a party goer, drinking, partying, jake being a footballer aka a soccer player ( NOT american football )
WC: 14k
AUTHOR'S NOTE: aaaa it's finally here ! hope y'all enjoyed it and PLEASE let me know how it was, give me some feedbacks and thoughts, it's been A LONGG WHILE since i've been writing so i'm worried i'll be crusty. anyway, enjoy !
part 1 of 'no competition' series | series masterlist | masterlist
© jaylver 2023 all rights reserved.
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“I'M SO NOT HAVING FUN ANYMORE,”
Friday nights were always preoccupied by hockey and hockey only. It has never changed ever since Yunjin, your best friend, gave you an introduction to the school’s ice hockey team. Being the massive sports fan you were, you obviously got hooked on watching their games live. But there were downsides to being a fan which includes witnessing the team losing.
You swore you were already in a foul mood that day, courtesy to your professor and shitty customers, you found yourself seeking solace in the hockey game, which turned sour almost instantly. Just your luck for the day, huh?
“It’s just the first period, Y/N,” Yunjin sighed, glancing up at the jumbotron, wincing a little at the scoreline. They were currently 3 goals down and Yunjin's reassurance didn't help at all.
“I suppose so,” you replied glumly.
The second period rolled by in a flash, but there wasn’t much of a positive outcome either. The team managed to score two goals, but the opponents out performed them and scored one more goal, continuing their lead.
You groaned loudly, along with many other disappointed students. 15 minutes of intermission ended rather quickly, bringing everyone back to reality.
“Oh come on, score already!” you shouted out in irritation, stirring other students to yell out in agreement as well.
The game was going slow and your patience was eventually growing thin. The clock was ticking, meaning the game was about to end soon with the team losing tragically. You shook your head in defeat, wrapping an arm around Yunjin’s shoulder and placing the other on your hip.
“For fuck’s sake, score already, idiots!” you yelled out.
Just when you did so, someone skated by, his head turned to look at you, meeting your eyes for only a brief second before disappearing into a sea of hockey players. You blinked. Did that just happen? You whipped your head to find Yunjin staring back at you, as if asking the same question.
“Did–”
“That–”
The two of you paused.
“Yeah,” you both said in unison, returning your attention back to the game.
As expected, the game unfortunately ended with a defeat for the home team. You and Yunjin decided to leave the arena immediately since it was already getting late, but you two also made sure to have a quick stop at the cafeteria to get some pizza before continuing the journey back to the dorms.
“I heard someone’s throwing a party soon,” Yunjin said through a mouth full of pepperoni pizza.
“Who is that ‘someone’?” you wiped your hand clean of pizza grease, then threw yourself on Yunjin’s bed, causing her to let out a grunt.
“That made me choke and I would’ve died. I don’t want my cause of death to be something related to pizza,” she grumbled, closing the pizza lid and taking the napkin you handed her.
“I thought you loved pizza?” you blinked innocently, flashing her your best smile and she threw you a dirty look.
“Think we got a little side tracked,” Yunjin mumbled thoughtfully. “If I’m not wrong, it was by one of those football chads? Was it Jake?”
“Jake might play football but he’s so not a chad,” you argued, unknowingly defending said boy.
Jake sim was, in fact, another popular athlete in your school who unsurprisingly turned out to be another playboy. You remembered the small heartbreak you had when you discovered his true identity, secretly wishing he was like any other non-fuckboy guy in the campus. But life’s unfair sometimes and somehow, that didn’t stop you from being acquainted with that golden retriever-like boy.
“You’re only saying that because he gives you free booze and free passes to football games,” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you and you feigned ignorance. “Anyway, I think it’s that Yeonjun guy who’s throwing that party. He’s that rich kid, remember?”
“Yeah, I do. I saw him multiple times at games,”
“Didn’t he flirt with you?”
“Correction, he tried. Luckily Jake was there to stop him or else I would’ve given him a black eye,” you frowned.
“Would’ve loved to see that happen,” Yunjin shrugged while you narrowed your eyes at her.
“You’re praying on my downfall,”
“Never. Also, are we going to talk about that hockey player staring deeply into your soul just now?”
You rolled your eyes at her words. “I don’t think I would count 2 seconds anything—”
“Of course it does! Have you seen those love at first sight tropes in romcoms?”
“I think you watched too many of them, Jen,” you squeezed her cheek and she slapped your hand, deadpanning at you. “Who is he anyway?”
“If I’m not wrong, he’s number one, Lee Heeseung, the captain. I think he’s in your English class too? Ring a bell?” Yunjin raised an eyebrow at you.
“I think I do remember him. He’s the one with fangirls lining outside, right?” Yunjin nodded at your words and you laughed, thinking back to the time where your professor had to chase a group of girls away before class started. Why? Because of Lee Heeseung’s sheer presence.
“Let’s not forget his messy hookups. Yikes,” Yunjin shuddered at the thought, suddenly rubbing her chin with a small frown. “Don’t you think we’re a bit uneducated when it comes to their players?”
“I mean,” you hummed, nodding a little. “I guess you’re right, we’re always there for the game and some beers and we barely bothered to find out which player is which,”
“We should pull up their Instagram profiles next game,” Yunjin suggested with a wink.
“Oh, I think you’ll definitely be on it,”
“Obviously,” Yunjin smirked. “Anyway, up for a facemask?”
You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know I wouldn’t say no to that.”
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“THIS IS SUCH A TYPICAL CHAD THROWN KIND OF PARTY,”
You found yourself complaining once more as you and Yunjin entered a big house. The living room was basically filled to the brim, along with loud music booming throughout the room and the smell of alcohol invaded your nostrils, this was pure hell. You turned to look at your best friend, silently cursing at her for bringing you here. Yunjin gave you her typical shrug as though she had read your thoughts, dragging you away from the vicinity.
"It's Yeonjun, what did you expect," Yunjin hissed, taking you further into the house.
"I also can’t believe you put me in this slutty dress,” you groaned. At this point, you were practically pulling your dress down every ten seconds from the way it kept riding up and you started getting beyond irritated by it.
“If not, you’ll turn up in your casual crop tops and denim shorts,” she shook her head in disapproval. “I can’t let that happen, not when there's rich guys here,”
"I'm here for a party, not to choose my next rich bachelor," you said in distaste, the last thing you wanted was a frat boy. “So, what are we going to do now?” you asked, holding tightly onto Yunjin’s hand as if your life depended on it.
“Enjoy ourselves, duh? I’ll go get some drinks. Sprite for you?”
You nodded, a little bummed out that you were missing out on some good booze since somebody, aka you, had to be responsible and drive back to the dorms without risking getting pulled over. You were already a broke college student, a fine would definitely not help your case.
Now here you are, stuck helplessly in the middle of a party with people you don’t know. Great. You thought about the possibilities that could've been if you decided to stay at home instead of leaning against a wall in a skimpy black dress and it had you groaning internally.
It was then the universe had heard your pleas of boredom and decided on some ‘fun’, except that ‘fun’ consisted of someone’s back bumping into you and their drink splattering all over onto your dress. You jumped in surprise and the boy who was practically pushed onto you had let out a small “oof” before fully realising what he had done.
“I’m so sorry,” he placed his cup aside and picked up some napkins from a table nearby. For a split moment, he was about to wipe your dress, then he paused, turning flustered when he realised what he was about to do, and instead, handed the napkins to you.
You gently dabbed the napkins on your soaked dress, a frown on your face as you felt the sticky substance stick to your skin uncomfortably. “It’s fine, you didn’t mean it anyway,”
You looked up from your dress, finally meeting his eyes. He blinked, seemingly trying to register who you were.
“It’s … you,”
“Me?” you pointed at yourself, a little dumbfounded at his words.
“I didn’t expect you to be here,”
That’s when it hit you. The very same eyes that stared back at you during the hockey game, the one that Yunjin had told you about. “Lee Heeseung?”
He resembled a bambi, his large innocent brown eyes gazing back at you, a look of curiosity behind them. He had a tall stature, his hair covering his forehead and it was styled plainly, not to mention his loosely buttoned up shirt clinging comfortably onto his frame. Now you understand why Yunjin said he has fangirls, you were shamefully about to be one too.
“Yeah … that’s me. What about you? Why’re you here?”
“Do you … recognize me?” you cringed a little at the memory of you practically cussing his team out, praying he would somehow forget it all.
“How could I not? You’re from English right? Shakespeare presentation, eh?” Heeseung recalled and you nodded, impressed that he remembered something from so long before, but most importantly, he remembered you.
“But of course, how could I forget, you’re also the person cussing us out on Friday too. I’m charmed, actually,” he chuckled nonchalantly as though it was nothing, but you, on the other hand, panicked a little and eyes only widened in a mix of horror and embarrassment.
Heeseung seemed to notice the panic in your eyes, waving his hands in reassurance. “Don’t worry though, I thought it was funny,” At his words, your shoulders relaxed, breathing out a sigh of relief.
You let out a nervous laugh. “You guys did your best. There’s always a next time,”
“Right,” he nodded, then averted his gaze back to your dress, instantly coming back to reality as he remembered the current problem in front of his face. He removed his jacket in a flash, carefully placing it over your shoulders. The sudden proximity had you gasping quietly, the waft of his cologne infiltrating your senses.
He was close, so so agonisingly close. A wave of shock passed through your body as you felt his gentle touch, almost feather-like as it lasted only just a second, but now with his hugging your body, you could finally breathe an air of comfort once warmth engulfed you.
“Sorry about your dress,” he pulled away, flashing you a genuine apologetic smile. “I thought the least I could do was give you my jacket,”
“No worries, you didn't do it on purpose anyway, it’s not your fault,” you assured him, being a little self aware that numerous wandering eyes were now on you and the campus’ popular hockey team captain. You felt like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Actually,” Heeseung started, “I can borrow one of my friend’s shirts so that you can change? I don’t think it’s a good idea walking around like that, plus my friend lives in this frat house anyway,”
“If you insist,” you gave in, not wanting to reject his help as he seemed so keen.
You silently followed Heeseung through the crowd of bodies, trying your hardest to not get swallowed with the way people were shoving around. Heeseung noticed you lagging behind and smoothly took hold of your hand, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t say much, letting him guide you up the stairs into someone’s room.
You glanced around the room. From the way it was decorated with random posters, sports magazines stacked on the bedside table and dirty clothes littered the floor, you were instantly convinced that this room belonged to a frat boy.
Heeseung surprisingly continued to keep his hand in yours, using the other to dig through a pile of clothes until he found an oversize shirt and a pair of pants. “Here,” he handed you the clothes, finally letting go of your hand, stepping away with his hands in his pockets. “I think all the bathroom’s full so it’s best to just change here,”
“You think so?”
“I know so, I’ll leave it up to your imagination to think about whatever that happens in there,”
“Right …” you faltered at his comment, the two of you remained staring at one another. That’s when you cleared your throat, fumbling with your clothes. “I would appreciate it if you turned around … unless you want a show?”
“For free? I can't say no, can I?”
“You wish. Now turn around,”
Heeseung shrugged, a mischievous grin on his face as he threw his hands up in defence and faced away. You stood behind him, cheeks flared while you practically yanked your skimpy black dress off. Yunjin would not be happy knowing she’ll have to do laundry.
You reached over to the back of your dress, practically yanking forcefully onto the zip that was unwilling to budge even for a bit. God, why me? Why now? Internally conflicted, you didn’t know whether to bear the shame and ask Heeseung for help or to just stay silent. But to your luck, the zip was stuck no matter how you pulled it.
“Heeseung?”
He hummed in response.
“I need your help,” you swallowed, trying your best to not shrivel up and dig a grave in that moment. “My zip is stuck.”
Momentary silence filled the air. It seemed Heeseung, too, was having some internal conflict. In a second, you heard shuffling behind you, feeling the warmth of his body close as his fingers reached for your zip, his other hand on your waist. You felt his fingertips grazing against your bare skin as he dragged the zipper down, hearing a faint gulp from him. You squeezed your eyes shut, swearing to never come to parties again.
“You’re good to go,” he whispered, coughing awkwardly.
“Thanks,” you met his eyes in the reflection of the small mirror placed on top of a dresser in front of you. Realisation seemed to hit him and he averted his gaze, taking a look around the room instead.
You practically yanked the dress off, pulling the shirt over your head and the pants on, stumbling a little from the sudden hit of nervousness. Could it be his presence that made you nervous? You hated this feeling.
“I’m done,” you declared, suddenly feeling the tension in the air.
“So, I can look now?” Heeseung joked and you rolled your eyes, but smiled at him.
“Keep your eyes closed forever then,” you bumped his shoulder, sitting down on the bed.
“Should we stay here instead?” he suggested and you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion, to which he scoffed. “Of course no funny business, who do you think I am?”
“Playboy Lee Heeseung, no?”
He groaned. “That’s what people think of me even though it’s completely false,”
“You do have fangirls, don’t you?”
“But I don’t date them, do I?” he retorted. “I don’t even go to parties much these days, coach has been up my ass,”
“Sucks to be you,”
Heeseung scoffed, turning to look at you with a question in mind. “You’re a big hockey fan?”
“Ever since I was a kid. Why?”
“I notice you’re always there every game night with your friend,”
“So, I’ve caught your attention?”
“A pretty girl like you surely wouldn’t go unnoticed in my eyes,” he was close now, a challenging glint in his eyes as his gaze fell to your lips from time to time.
“You’re funny, Hee,” you couldn’t resist smiling.
“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes met yours, a sly grin on his face. “About your dress, I mean,”
You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, knowing damn well what lies in his words. Maybe he was just like every other campus athlete, but at that moment, you didn’t seem to care, your interest only increasing and you couldn’t tell if this was his plan all along.
You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lip. “How about you win the next game? I think that’ll help a lot,”
Heeseung nodded thoughtfully. “If I do, can I get your number too?”
“Why not?”
“Shall this be a deal?” he smirked, ready for a challenge.
“Sure,” you shrugged nonchalantly.
“I’ll win the next one, just you wait,” Heeseung's words were filled with utter determination and confidence. He was definitely ready to tell you 'told you so' and prove you wrong.
“Well, I’ll be waiting,” you glanced down at your phone, noticing over ten messages from Yunjin. Shit. “The clock’s ticking and I need to go. See you, captain,”
“Wait,” he caught hold of your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. You turned to look at him, a big question mark written over your expression, anticipating his next words. “Can I at least know what your name is?”
You grinned. “It’s Y/N,”
"Get ready with your phone number, Y/N. I'll be looking out for you at the next game. Keep the jacket too," he winked and you waved a small goodbye, exiting out the door and dashed down the stairs with your dirty clothes in hand, wearing Heeseung's jacket, completely unaware how quick your heart was beating.
When you spotted Yunjin, you practically fell into her arms as she started ranting about why you shouldn’t run away without her knowledge, but all of it eventually drowned out into white noise. The only thing you could think of suddenly was Heeseung. Lee fucking Heeseung.
"Y/N," she sang out your name, tapping your head to catch your attention. “Why are you in a different outfit? You got laid didn’t you?” she gasped and you slapped her arm.
“Heeseung spilled a drink on me and took me to his friend’s room to change, that’s all,”
“Heeseung?” she gasped again, a teasing grin slowly forming and you knew that trouble was in that mind of hers. “You and him didn’t smoochy smooch … right?”
“We’re not there yet, hello?”
“There’s something called a hook up, you hopeless romantic,” Yunjin shook her head. “This sounds like the start of a hockey romance based on the books I've read," she squealed and you only sighed.
"Please read some self help books too,"
"Never," she huffed, leaning in and dropping her voice so that only the two of you could hear what she was about to say. "What did you two talk about? A private hook up after games? We need some spice in your hockey romance plot!"
"Oh my god, I rather drown than fuck that man. You do realise he has fangirls chasing after him? They'll choke me in my sleep if I slept with him,"
Yunjin wrapped her arm around you. "I'll choke you first if you don't bag that man. He's tall, hockey captain, hot most importantly," she winked. "One down part is that I'm pretty sure he used to fuck around quite a lot too. But then a messy hook up traumatised him,"
"How so?"
"She was crazy from what I heard. That's why no fangirls will come at you for revenge, they know he's a whore, but they'll just line up instead," she led you out to a flight of stairs, where there were some questionable couples making out, but that didn't stop you and Yunjin from sitting on the landing.
"Totally not a red flag," you said sarcastically. "I don't know how to feel about him. He was nice, quite flirty. Maybe he's like those Wattpad cliches where he's actually a nice guy?" You said, sipping onto the drink Yunjin got you.
"Who knows? Judging from the past rumours I've heard here and there, he definitely was a manwhore, but he’s also a sweet and genuine one," Yunjin clicked her tongue. "I did hear he's quite a sweetheart aside from his fuckboy tendencies."
"A manwhore with a kind heart! Just my type!" You clapped your hands and Yunjin chuckled at your comment. “Anyway, I swore I'm done with hockey boys a long time ago. I don't want to like him,"
Ice hockey has always been one of your favourite sports, but hockey boys? They were a whole different story for you. A core memory from highschool that you wished to never revisit was the fact that you had your heart broken by a hockey boy. He was considered your first love, a best friend, that ended up breaking your trust.
"This is why you should date a footballer,"
You snapped out of your momentary daze, looking up to meet Jake Sim’s eyes.
“Present to me a perfect candidate then,” Yunjin crossed her arms, frowning at Jake. She wasn't a big fan of him, considering his notorious playboy tendencies, but over time he did gradually warm up to her.
"Me!"
"I'll rip your head off first before you get a chance with Y/N,"
"Ouch,"
You and Yunjin shared a look, then burst out laughing.
"What's up, Sim? Do you have something for me?" You questioned Jake, wondering what his purpose was for his sudden appearance.
"Nothing, I'm just bored," he said plainly, though you and Yunjin were a little unconvinced.
"Okay? Any games coming up?"
"It's currently a short break for us. I'm glad or else my legs will snap in half soon," Jake pouted, resembling a puppy, which you couldn't help but find endearing. "You should totally come and learn to kick some footballs soon. Jake Sim is always up for some training," he winked.
"I'll be the next running candidate to take over Messi, right?" Yunjin joked and you nudged her side, giggling.
"Only if you learn at Jake Sim's personal training," he shrugged, a small smirk on his face. "Anyway, I really want to watch the hockey team and I heard you guys were regulars. Mind if I join?"
You raised an eyebrow at Yunjin, shooting her a wordless question. Yunjin scrunched her nose, thinking for a moment before shrugging. All while that was happening, Jake was just standing there staring, a little unimpressed.
"Hello? I don't appreciate this mind linking conversation that I'm not a part of," he placed his hands on his hips, his head tilted to the side.
"Alright, sorry," Yunjin mumbled.
"Fine, you can tag along," you said, watching the boy before you grin.
"Let's go!"
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"IS IT NORMAL TO BE FREEZING COLD HERE?"
Jake had his arms around himself, shivering slightly even though he was already in layers. You and Yunjin followed the boy to your seats as he marvelled at the size of the rink.
"I barely watch hockey games, I'm more of a summer sports kinda guy," he tucked his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Well, it's just your lucky day, you'll be witnessing a win too," Yunjin winked, passing you a knowing glance.
"How do you know?"
"Team captain over there–" Yunjin nodded over at Heeseung, who was practising on the rink with the team, looking good as always, which only further annoyed you. "–made a deal with Y/N. I'm sure his determination will mix well with his competitiveness,"
Yunjin glanced over at you, a small smirk on her face. "And here he comes," she sang and you whipped your head just in time to meet his eyes.
Heeseung skated over, a small smile on his face. You felt Yunjin nudging your side in excitement and you slapped her hands away, ignoring her giddy expression and you returned a lopsided smile to Heeseung.
“Y/N!” you managed to hear his muffled voice through the glass, which he tapped on a couple times to get your full attention.
“I’m going to score one for you tonight,” you were surprised with the determined glint in his eyes, proving Yunjin's statement immediately, and after a quick wave from him, he skated away to join his team, preparing for the game to start.
Jake whistled, fanning himself. “I definitely felt the tension.”
“Shut up.”
The second period ended with a draw, both teams were not willing to back down for just a little, even creating small brawls on ice from time to time, causing the tension to be heightened. The third period was equally heart stopping and gut twisting. You had to occasionally grip Yunjin's arm whenever there was a close chance to score.
There was a sudden switch in the atmosphere, the home team had dominated possession of the puck, the blades of their skates working overtime trying to reach the other end to the opponent’s goal post. One hit after another, the puck travelled from one player’s hockey stick to another, until it reached star player Park Sunghoon, who had defenders swarming him and it left him no choice but to pass to his captain, Lee Heeseung.
With one swift hit to the oncoming puck from Sunghoon, it shot into the back of the net, leaving the goalie absolutely defenceless. The arena erupted with shouts and cheers, not expecting the sudden turnover from their home team, the speakers were blaring music, followed by announcing Heeseung’s name, which was welcomed with deafening screams. Shamelessly, you, Jake and Yunjin were part of the screams, clapping and jumping.
The team jumped onto Heeseung, but somehow, he escaped them all and started skating towards your direction, pointing his stick at you and shooting a wink. 'For you' he mouthed slyly at you before rejoining his teammates.
“See, I told you Heeseung will win it for Y/N,” Yunjin said, seemingly pleased.
“MVP,” Jake clapped, a shocked expression on his face.
You, on the other hand, were trying to digest everything that just happened. The moment where he dedicated the goal to you had you unintentionally blushing, realising a sudden change in feelings. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t be so bad if you gave him a chance. Countless thoughts swarmed your head even until the end of the game.
Now, here you were, waiting for Heeseung at the parking lot, your friends peeking in the car from a distance.
Yunjin shot you an encouraging thumbs up while Jake only laughed at Yunjin’s efforts. You glared at them, waving them off and you reciprocated back with a middle finger. That’s when you heard a rough cough behind you. Fuck.
“Y/N?”
You turned around slowly, looking as though you were just caught in the middle of commiting something you're not supposed to. “Heeseung,” you laughed nervously. "Congrats on the game! You played well,”
“Thank you,” Heeseung grinned. “I’m glad you came. I mean, you always do, what am I even saying?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.
You couldn't help laughing, finding the way he got nervous was cute. He was cute too. Undeniable. "That was a nice goal by the way,"
"Well, I did say I wanted to score one specifically for you. I'm a man of my words, you know?" He chuckled, getting shy eventually. "I'm glad you liked it though,"
"Of course I did," you gave him a small smile, fidgeting your fingers slightly.
He straightened up, regaining his composure. “So … our deal,”
“You’re lucky I like you enough to actually stick to it,” you grumbled, shoving your hand into your pocket to dig out the piece of paper.
“You like me, huh?”
“Not in that way yet,”
“‘Yet’. So I do have a chance. I’m happy to know,”
“Do you want my number or a black eye?” you threatened rather unseriously, a teasing tone laced in your words.
“I’d prefer a kiss, but your number shall do for now,” he grabbed the small note from your hand, unwrapping it to find a candy in it. “Apple flavoured, what a nice surprise,” he mumbled under his breath.
“You’re cute, you truly have a way to my heart huh?” he looked up from the candy, storing away your number safely into his pocket.
You caught yourself speechless from his words. On average, you were typically unfazed by these comments. Countless boys had tried them on you and all of them turned out to feel icky instead of making you kick your feet, giggling. But this time, Heeseung proved you wrong.
"Coming from Lee Heeseung himself, should I be flattered?" You tried your best to stay nonchalant, keeping your heart rate down as much as you can.
"I don't know? You tell me," Heeseung leaned down, his face close to you now, making you slowly grow flustered.
"Count me a little flattered," you took the clothes from the other night from your bag, pushing it into Heeseung's hands, catching him off guard. "Here, relay my thanks to your friend,"
"Only to my friend? What about me?" Heeseung crossed his arms, staring accusingly at you.
"My number already counts as a ‘thanks’, doesn’t it?"
Heeseung narrowed his eyes at you, a smile itching at the corner of his lips. “Not enough. A date might suffice,”
“You are demanding, Lee Heeseung,” you huffed, but not rejecting his suggestion either.
“I’ll text you, pretty girl. I have a plan in mind, so you better clear your schedules,”
“Alright, captain.”
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“FOR ONCE, I DON'T REGRET COMING TO A PARTY YOU SELECTED,”
You’ve always avoided frat parties, specifically frat boys, but this time, Yunjin managed to accomplish the unexpected by convincing you to a frat party. You had to admit, there was a small motive behind your agreement, which was to visit the richest frat house on the campus. Free expensive booze, a big pool, big everything, it was definitely going to be more than a party. All you had to do was avoid the frat boys and your night shall be made.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Yunjin snapped, but you were too busy checking out the vicinity to listen to her grumbles.
“They have a huge ass yard and pool,” you whispered to Yunjin, weaving through the growing crowd. The house was too extravagant, even the air in there seemed richer. The tiles were completely marbled, there were stairs leading up to almost four floors. You wondered how it was even owned by a frat.
“This is a rich frat, what did you expect?”
“Touche.”
You and Yunjin didn’t bother waiting for a second before taking some pregame shots. The vodka burned your throat, making you wince a little, but it didn't stop you from more. The moment Jake found the two of you, it was already clear you were already on the way to being completely shit-faced.
"Oh come on, you already started without me?" Jake whined, downing two shots of vodka straight.
"Couldn't resist," Yunjin pressed her lips into a thin line, shrugging slightly.
"Also, did you guys hear?" Jake leaned in, dropping his voice. "The hockey team from our rival school is coming to this party,"
"What?" You hissed, frowning slightly. "Who invited their asses?"
"I don't know," Jake shrugged, picking up another glass of alcohol from a tray.
"Speaking of hockey," Yunjin cleared her throat, passing you a knowing smirk. "Aren't you going to find Heeseung?"
"I–why would I?" You stammard, avoiding Yunjin's piercing gaze.
"He's clearly into you. Didn't you see him pulling that stunt that day? Scoring a goal for you and winning just for your number? That's the most commitment I've seen from him or just any man in general,"
"Hear hear," Jake raised his glass in agreement, then proceeded to down it without a second thought.
"I'll see what happens tonight," you said, but your eyes decided to go against you, unconsciously scanning the room hoping to see him.
"Tonight will be full of opportunities," Yunjin marvelled, throwing her arm around your shoulder and winking. "If you know what I mean," she whispered.
"The first you'll see is me getting drunk, not getting laid," you let out an exasperated sigh, pursing your lips and pausing as something caught your eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows, instantly noticing a group of guys filing into the room. They must be the rival team Jake had mentioned.
“Must be them,” Yunjin pointed out, taking a big gulp from her cup. Jake whipped his head around, scanning the group of guys that were yelling loudly, dabbing up one another and seemingly unlikeable as a whole.
He made a sour expression. “Great, hockey jocks,”
“As though your group of football guys are any better,” Yunjin quipped, only earning a sharp glare from Jake and he cleared his throat, gaze focused on a specific person.
“That guy there must be their captain,” he nodded at the group and you had to squint your eyes to see who Jake had his attention trained at. Almost immediately, your smile dropped, along with your heart. It was him.
You froze the moment your eyes landed on a tall figure, it definitely was him. He stood out from the rest, being the taller and bulkier one with messy hair and undeniable charm from the way he was already surrounded by different girls. Yup, that’s 100% Matthew, your high school lover, the hockey boy that traumatised your love life.
“Oh fuck me,” you cursed under your breath, the other two turning to stare at you.
“You want to fuck him?” Jake shrieked in surprise and Yunjin slapped the back of his head, causing the boy to hiss in pain, silently cursing.
“No, dipshit. That’s her …” she glanced at you and you nodded, giving her a green flag to continue, “ex.”
“Him? Matthew Son? Your ex?” Jake was flabbergasted, panning back and forth between your ex and you.
“Unfortunately. High school ex, to be exact,” you grumbled, pushing away the ill thoughts and bitter feelings that lingered for Mathew. You were a new person, you were never someone to be stuck in the past, you weren’t about to be affected by him. Never.
“I might need more drinks,” you rubbed the side of your head, slipping away before the other two could even say anything. Though the voice in your head was constantly affirming that his presence wasn’t affecting you, you still couldn’t help feeling unnerved. Seeing him was unnerving too.
The kitchen was unsurprisingly glamorous and the space was huge. Everything in there screamed fancy and expensive. The counter was made from marble, cupboards were also probably made from high quality wood and the wide variety of food in there could literally make it resemble a grocery store. Best of yet, you had it all to yourself. For once, your ex made himself useful enough by helping you attract everyone to the main room.
You spotted some leftover bottles of gin and decided to give your bartender skills some try. It wasn’t your first rodeo thanks to Yunjin. Ever since she started bringing you to parties and being someone who’s easily impressed, you found yourself learning some tips and tricks on how to mix drinks from a rando in a party one day. Soon, it became your favourite party activity.
It was quite peaceful being all by yourself. The songs playing on the speakers reverberated across the house, but you didn’t mind it as you mixed a concoction of gin and juice on the counter, praying it would turn out fine.
“You’re here?”
You turned around at the sound of the voice, almost toppling over your glass in shock, but the moment you met a familiar set of doe eyes, you released a breath of relief, your heart unknowingly beating faster.
“You’re here too? I thought no parties for Mr Hockey?” you leaned back onto the counter as he walked to your side.
“Thought I’d give myself an off day after yesterday’s win,” Heeseung shrugged, glancing at you from time to time. “Surprisingly, I always see you at every party I go to,”
“I was dragged to every said party by force,” you thought of the she-devil, Yunjin, who somehow successfully convinced you to attend every party with her. “Do you want a drink?” you offered, nodding towards your half made drink.
“You’re making them?” Heeseung eyed the bottles.
“I am a woman of many talents,” you said smugly, continuing your drink mixing, feeling Heeseung’s piercing stare on you.
“A woman who wouldn’t poison me right?” he peeked over your shoulder, closing in on your face, his body only inches away from yours till the point where you could feel the heat radiating off him. Lee Heeseung definitely knew what he was doing.
“You’re doubting my abilities now then?” you kept your cool, pouring alcohol into a new glass for Heeseung.
He smiled. “Just trying to make sure,” he murmured into your ears and you could tell he was enjoying teasing you. Sly fucker.
“No promises,” your voice came out in a whisper, turning a little to the side to meet his pair of bambi eyes and your breath hitched suddenly upon realising how close the two of you were, you were only an inch apart from touching each other’s noses. You were scared to move even the slightest, shying gradually from his eyes sweeping your features.
“What if I said I wanted to kiss you,”
You scoffed, growing immune to his charms. “I thought you were a gentleman, Lee? No candlelit dinner first?”
He cracked a grin, chuckling slightly. “Sometimes I skip that part and jump to dessert first,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, pushing his face away and he burst out laughing. “I’m playing with you. I’m obviously a gentleman, can’t you tell?”
You hummed, raising an eyebrow at him in scepticism. “I can’t.”
“You love breaking my heart, Y/N. I’m hurt,” he frowns, feigning innocence as he laid his head on your shoulder, clutching at his chest and you found yourself smiling unknowingly at his dramatics.
You decided to play along, patting Heeseung’s head in so called “comfort”. “Oh, what can I do to fix your broken heart, Heeseung?” you exclaimed.
“Come to Jay’s birthday party with me?” he stared up at you with pleading eyes. Those bambi eyes will eventually be the death of you.
"Why?"
You've heard of Jay Park one too many times. From the campus cafes to the local club, he was everywhere, and you didn't know if that was a good or bad thing. He was another one of the popular hockey players from Heeseung's team which you've seen at almost every party you attended ever since your first year.
Yunjin told you only one thing upon seeing Jay Park: "don't meddle with him" and you've stuck to it.
"That's a bold invitation," you considered for a moment, still quite unconvinced. "Isn't it just a bro only party?"
"He's the one asking us to bring a plus one," Heeseung huffed, removing his head from your shoulder, a small pout on his face. "Worse part is that it's in a club,"
"Are you trying to persuade me or dissuade me?"
"What I mean is, I'll be with you there. It's also a VIP lounge given how loaded Jay is and knowing him, he probably rented it out too. Plus, they'll finally get to meet the girl who cussed them out!"
You buried your head into your hands in shame, embarrassment burning your cheeks red. "You can't be serious,"
"Unfortunately, I am. But they'll love you, don't worry, pretty,"
You glared at him while he only returned a cheeky grin back at you. “Fine,” you groaned out, ultimately succumbing to his words, unable to deny the effect he had on you. Curse him. “When and what time?”
“Next Saturday night,” his grin widened at your words, satisfaction washed over his face. “I’ll pick you up at 7?”
“Sounds good,”
“That’s that then,” he glanced over at his shoulders, hearing faint shouts of his name outside of the kitchen and passed you an apologetic smile, as if expressing that it was a shame he couldn’t stay longer and you couldn’t lie, you wanted him to stay longer. “Remember to send me your address, gorgeous.” he waved his phone in the air before backing away and disappearing out the door.
It was about to be a long week ahead.
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“SET ME UP WITH ONE OF THEM, PLEASE. I NEED THE MONEY,”
Saturday, to your dismay, unfortunately and eventually arrived. You didn’t know whether to be excited or absolutely dread the party, a certain feeling of anxiety clawing at your insides just when you think about meeting new people. Yunjin could only roll her eyes at you as she added more eyeshadow.
“It already sends shivers down my spine thinking that I’ll be speaking to them in person and you expect me to go ‘hey guys, my friend needs someone to be her sugar daddy, you up’?” you deadpanned, applying a layer of lip gloss.
“That’s exactly it,” Yunjin smiled pleasantly and you feigned gagging, making Yunjin laugh and almost poking the mascara wand into your eyes. “Also, do you consider this a date?”
“He did say he wanted to take me out, but having him take me to a club as a date? I don’t think he’s the sleazy type to do so. I take it as him taking me as his date … like a friendly invite,”
“Friendly invite?” Yunjin exclaimed incredulously, inching closer to check on the details of your makeup. “Did you see the way he looks at you? There's nothing friendly about that, he’s hooked,”
“You’re giving me false hope, Jen,” you sighed, standing up to change into an outfit Yunjin picked which, in her words,was definitely ‘life changing enough to have Heeseung on his knees’.
“Not false hope if it’s literally just the truth,” Yunjin shrugged, helping to clasp a necklace around your neck. “Come on, give me a twirl,” she squealed excitedly once you were done struggling balancing on one leg putting on the dress and shoes.
You complied with Yunjin’s request, begrudgingly giving her a small twirl. At the same time, you took the chance to glance down at your dress, satisfied that for once an impulsive purchase benefited you. The dress was a shade of midnight blue, hugging your body tight and showing off your curves in the best way as if it was custom made. All in all, as Yunjin would describe, it was simply ‘pants dropping’.
At the ‘ping’ of your notification, you saw a text from Heeseung saying he had already arrived and your heart jumped. With one swift hug from Yunjin and an ‘encouraging’ saying along the lines of ‘hooking up’ and ‘protection’, you were pushed out of the door and soon into Heeseung’s car.
“Hi, pretty girl,” Heeseung greeted, a half smile on his face as his hands rested on the steering wheel. He paused when his eyes landed on your figure, his gaze sweeping you from top to bottom, making you a little self conscious. He whistled under his breath, blinking slowly.
“Eyes up here,” you stared pointedly at him, crossing your arms, but you had to admit, you were checking him out shamelessly as well, the smell of his vanilla cologne in the air and his loose button up shirt wasn’t helping either.
“My bad. I was just admiring you. You look pretty,” he turned his attention back to the road, heading to wherever the club was located, just in time to not notice the slight blush to your cheeks.
“Really? You don’t look too bad yourself either, Lee,”
“Why thank you. I’m flattered,” he shot you a wink and you could only roll your eyes at his antics.
The rest of the conversation continued in a casual flow, making you feel at ease and your anxiety eventually lessened. The jokes he cracked made you laugh and with the way he answered your questions, you knew he wasn’t anything like the playboy people made him up to be. As much as you hated to admit, you were giving him the benefit of the doubt. Will it hurt you? Maybe.
After Heeseung pulled the car into park, you got out and you were instantly in awe at the exterior of the club. This was in fact a place where rich kids party, judging from the amount of ferraris, mercedes and other luxurious cars parked outside, you made sure to keep yourself away from the snobby rich kids or who knows, Yunjin’s wish might even be granted tonight.
Wordlessly, Heeseung offered you his hand and you intertwined your fingers with his, letting him guide you further into the club as you pushed yourself through the crowd, and soon arrived in a large room that was almost the size of someone’s living room. “You’re kidding,” you murmured, amazed by the size of the room and the decorations littered across every wall.
“Told you Jay was blessed with money,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, shooting a sweet smile.
“I should set him up with Yunjin,” you said thoughtlessly and Heeseung chuckled.
“He’ll like that roommate of yours,”
“Heeseung!”
You were interrupted by an approaching figure who was easily recognizable with that head of freshly dyed white hair. Park Sunghoon, another ace of the hockey team. Thanks to Yunjin’s valiant effort in finding every player’s instagram profile, you were now able to recognise who was who.
“Hoon!” Heeseung greeted back, giving his best friend a side hug.
Unfortunately for you, Sunghoon was quick to turn his attention to you instead. “Y/N right? Heard many good things about you,” he extended his hand, a sneaky grin on his face.
You accepted his handshake, fighting the urge to roll your eyes at his words. “That’s me,”
“You’re a regular at the hockey games, how are they?” Sunghoon kept you company now that Heeseung went away to greet the others, but you didn’t mind, finding yourself growing comfortable with the Jack Frost look alike.
“Do you wish to listen to my boring five hour analysis on each game?”
“I think it would be longer than five hours,”
“Exactly,” you clicked your tongue, then narrowed your eyes in suspicion at him. “Plus, how do you know I’m a regular? It’s not like I score front row seats every game,”
Sunghoon glanced around as if searching for anyone who’s eavesdropping, then he gestured for you to come closer, which you did, though clearly confused. “I think Heeseung will kill me for saying this,”
“Why?” you whispered back, your smile twisting into a frown. “Oh god, is Heeseung a stalker?”
“What?” it was Sunghoon’s turn to be utterly confused, staring back at you as though you’re the crazy one. He shook his head. “Heeseung might fool around sometimes but he’s definitely not a stalker or a Ted Bundy wannabe.”
“Thank heavens,” you let out a sigh of relief, but Sunghoon definitely wasn’t done yet.
“Anyway, what I was about to say was, Heeseung has always paid attention to you, Y/N. English class, hockey games, he’s got sharp eyes, ace for a reason eh? He’s genuine about you. Believe me, I’ve heard about you since day one, and I mean this in a nice way, but I’m sick of him constantly talking about you without doing anything at all,” a small grin appeared on Sunghoon’s devilishly handsome features.
“I must admit, he was a player, but I can see he’s changing and I don’t think it’ll hurt to give him a chance. He’s a sweetheart, so just don’t break his heart, will you?” he glanced behind his shoulders, noticing Heeseung entering the room with one of his teammates and a girl. “Heeseung’s back and I know he’s going to kill me if he finds out. It’s nice meeting you, Y/N. My date’s here, see you!”
Sunghoon gave you a small pat on the shoulder before walking away, leaving your head in a frenzy state. Lee Heeseung, captain of the hockey team, the school’s ace and pride, basically Mr Popular, was into you? Yunjin was going to strangle you in either excitement or surprise when she found out.
“What were you guys talking about?” he slithered smoothly to your side, bumping your shoulder gently.
“Hockey. Was wondering if he wanted an analysis on each game,”
Heeseung grinned, shaking his head gently. “You’re a menace,”
There were basically zero chances to be alone together, which you suddenly craved after Sunghoon basically dropped a big bomb on you, till now you still couldn’t swallow. Heeseung had you close to his side as he introduced you to each of his teammates and their dates, including the birthday boy Jay, and somehow all of them remembered you from that fateful night on Friday.
“So, how did you meet our dear Heeseung here?” Jay wiggled his eyebrows, passing you a glass of champagne that probably costs way more than you imagine.
“Oh, it was magical, I fell into his arms and he confessed his love for me,” you sighed dreamily, fanning yourself. At your words, Jay nudged you, a wide smile on his face and you waved your hand, stifling your giggles. “Kidding, it would totally be a wattpad cliche if that happened. He’s in my English class and we met at a party,”
“I’m surprised he’s somewhat won you over,” he raised a questionable eyebrow at you. “You are aware of how he was right? Or are you the type to scream and cry after figuring out his past fuckboy history?”
You gave him an unamused stare. “If I minded his past, I wouldn’t be here anyway. But he does seem like a changed person, I’ve heard stories from my roommate and they were … interesting,”
Jay let out a soft laugh at that. “I can tell he’s serious about you, trust me, he’s the type to not back down when he sets his mind to something. Let his hockey be an example,” he shrugged. “I know my best friend, Y/N. Unless he fucks up then I’ll punch him for you,”
You placed a hand on your chest, a bemused grin lit up your features. “You’re truly a gentleman, Jay,”
“Hey, I’m supposed to be your gentleman!” Heeseung appeared behind you, his arm thrown around your shoulder. If you could explode right now, you would. The amount of skinship you had with Heeseung was unhealthy and unknowingly, you found yourself succumbing to it each time. “Let’s go to the dancefloor outside? The guys really want to go,”
Now you were in the middle of the dancefloor, swaying your body to the beat of whatever song the DJ was playing and it was nice that it felt like you were in your own world, carelessly and mindlessly dancing to your heart’s content. You were surrounded by the boys’ dates, who you’ve found yourself befriending quickly, while Heeseung was nowhere to be seen after dancing for only a few minutes. Rude.
“Hi,” you snapped your head to find Jay squeezing through towards you, trying his best to not get his expensive shoe stepped on. “Where’s Heeseung?”
“That’s a question I’d like to ask too. He’s definitely not with me though. I thought he was with you at first … but I guess not,” you shrugged, frowning slightly as you wondered where that man would have run off to.
“I thought he was with you,” Jay huffed, annoyance clear in his features. “I swear if he’s out there wasted, coach is going to—wait…” he faltered, his gaze trailed over your head and being naturally curious, you followed his gaze, turning around and from a distance, you couldn’t tell what Jay was even looking at, until you pinpoint a familiar someone in a dress shirt you saw not long before.
There he was, sitting at the bar, back facing the dancing floor as he sat close to a girl, whispering into each others’ ears and laughing. You swore you didn’t care, but the heart doesn’t lie, you were jealous and it wasn’t helping how Sunghoon was just saying Heeseung was serious about you only hours before this. It was comical.
“Oh,” Jay said under his breath, taking a big gulp from the glass in his hand.
“Yeah, ‘oh’,” you said flatly, not realising you were practically shooting daggers into the back of Lee Heeseung’s head. Jay let out a small laugh that eventually turned into a cough once he saw you giving him a side eye, an apologetic smile appearing on his face.
“You know, Y/N, I have a plan,” his smile slowly turned into a smirk and it dawned on you, Park Jong Seong’s gears were in work and you didn’t know what you’re about to get yourself into. “Don’t give me that look, my plans are the best,”
Your frown deepened, resuming to give Jay a sceptical look as his smile continued to get more playful. Oh you were in for a treat. “Why don’t we make Heeseung … jealous? I mean, it is clear that he likes you, a little push won’t hurt can it?”
“Have you been watching too many romcoms?” you shot him a look of exasperation, noticing the similarity between him and Yunjin. One was already enough, you didn't need two. Jay nudged you softly, wiggling his eyebrows in encouragement for disaster.
“I bet you the moment he sees you with me, he’s going to burst and before you know it, you’ll be celebrating your one year anniversary—”
You held a hand up, silencing Jay before he could continue further. You started chewing on your bottom lip, a small habit of yours, as you found yourself in disbelief once these words left your lips. “Fine, why not?”
Jay shot you a wink, closing in on you and you placed a hand on his chest, raising an eyebrow. “No funny business, Jay,”
“You have no faith in me. It’s common bro code to not get with your best friend’s girl,”
You let Jay dance close to you, appreciating the fact that he was maintaining a respectful distance to you, setting a clear boundary between the both of you. Contrary to popular beliefs, he might actually seem not too bad. “I feel like Lee Heeseung might’ve been peeking at us,”
“You think so?”
Jay glanced at the direction of the bar, catching Heeseung’s piercing gaze and he smirked, leaning close to you. “Oh, he’s so watching us,”
"You're kidding," you turned around, still moving your body to the music, squinting your eyes to find Heeseung staring back at you, jaw clenched and lips pressed into a flat line, practically glaring daggers into Jay's head.
"You're not," you said mindlessly, hearing Jay burst out laughing behind you, but it all faded to grey as your eyes followed Heeseung's figure disappear behind a corner.
"He's leaving," you spun around, meeting Jay's panicked expression. "I'll go find him,"
"Did our plan work a little too well?"
"We’ll find out soon," you patted Jay's shoulder, whispering a quick thanks before welcoming the challenge of squeezing past sweaty bodies.
You figured Heeseung was heading back to the private room from the looks of where he was going, so you followed his trail around the corner, stumbling slightly and immediately regretting the amount of drinks you had. In the very next moment, you regretted more than just the drinks, you were contemplating your existence.
"Y/N?"
Son Matthew was staring back at your limp figure leaning against the wall for support, a mix of shock and confusion in his face. You, on the other hand, was about to sink into the ground in shame. Being tipsy and struggling to stand was already a moment you would never want anyone to see, let alone your cheating ex.
You cleared your throat, gripping onto the wall to straighten up, avoiding his wandering eyes as much as you could. The awkward tension in the air was palpable, you were aware how rigid the man before you was and you knew he probably didn’t think of bumping into you here out of nowhere.
“So…how are you—”
“Save the small talk please,” you interjected, sighing deeply at the usual post breakup ‘how are you’s and awkward catching up.
“Look, I never got to apologise and I know you hate me for it—”
“Of course I do!” you exclaimed, getting heated gradually and the alcohol in your system wasn’t helping one bit. “I walked in on you and her in the bedroom and you expect me to stand there to wait for your apology? It’s the fact that you never bothered to apologise after anyway,”
He looked down in shame, knowing every word you said was true and undeniable, meanwhile his silence only hurt you further. First loves always hurt, and seeing him here again after many years made you realise that you truly deserved way more than a hockey jock like him.
“I’m playing against your school’s team next week,” he said weakly, trying to change the subject. Great, another day to dread when it was supposed to be you and your best friend’s day.
“Good luck,” you didn’t know what to say, finding yourself in an awkward position. “Or not really,”
Matthew nodded slowly, clearly getting uncomfortable and you were too. “So, are you talking to someone now—”
“Yeah, she is,”
You felt an arm snaking its way around your shoulder, tensing for a minute until you realised whose voice it was.
“Lee Heeseung?” Matthew’s demeanour changed in a flash, suddenly seeming more spiteful and filled with jealousy. This was giving you deja vus of the red flags you’ve experienced in your past relationship. It made you feel sick.
“Son Matthew,” Heeseung cooed, eyeing him readily. Heeseung and Matthew had always been somewhat rivals ever since they started playing hockey. Matthew had mentioned a ‘rival’ once too many times in the past and lucky you, you were able to piece it together after entering college where you’d watched their teams play against each other once for a cup competition.
“Long time no see,” Heeseung said coolly, a small smirk on his face as he stared back at your ex, whose expression was twisting into a foul look. “Ready for the next game?”
At Heeseung’s mocking tone, Matthew scoffed. “You haven’t changed, eh? Still the usual overconfident Lee Heeseung,”
“They don’t call me ‘ace’ for no reason, right? Hey, I deserve some bragging rights,” you rolled your eyes at Heeseung’s words, which seemed to tick your ex further. He really knows how to rile someone up, doesn’t he?
“See you on the ice,” Matthew grumbled, walking past Heeseung and you, making sure to mumble ‘jerk’ loud enough for Heeseung to hear, prompting him to let out a laugh as he waved your ex tauntingly goodbye.
“How friendly,” Heeseung gritted out through a forced smile, his eyebrows furrowed, obviously annoyed but then he turned to you, a quizzical look replacing his previous agitated expression. “How do you know this guy? He’s a complete douche,”
“He’s my ex,” you admitted not so happily, noticing the slight surprise in Heeseung’s face.
“He wasn’t trying to do anything to you right?” Heeseung asked at once, his eyes flashed with worry as they darted around your face to your body. You softened at his words, shaking your head and reaching over to take his hand in yours.
“I’m fine, really. It was really awkward though,” you tried to laugh it off, but in reality you were so ready to dig yourself a grave. “You’re not wrong, he is a jerk and I don’t know what I even saw in him when he literally cheated on me,”
“Speaks a lot about his character for being so shit off and on ice. I’m sorry, Y/N, you deserved more than someone like him,” Heeseung squeezed your hand gently, passing you a consoling smile.
“It’s alright, Hee, I’ve gotten over him years ago. I hope you guys beat his ass next game,” you swung his hand lightly, beaming at his presence, but not noticing the fact that he was trying his best to hide a smile.
Heeseung cleared his throat. “I’ll trash him for you, Y/N,”
“Sounds like another challenge. I’ll take you up on it,” you smirked.
“You have to stop tormenting me, I swear,” Heeseung sighed wearily at your antics, but he couldn’t resist a lopsided grin. “Anyway, where were you even going?”
“To get a drink,” you blatantly lied through your teeth, unwilling to admit that you were actually looking for him. There’s one thing that Yunjin always preached and it was to never let a man know you’re chasing him. In times like this, you were about to listen to her teachings.
“You had fun dancing with Jay?” Heeseung smoothly brought up, completely having zero intentions of either sugar coating nor hiding his jealousy, and you were stunned by his straightforwardness, a small grin tugging at your lips.
“He offered me company, so I took up that offer. Someone here was off flirting with someone else, no? I thought you were a gentleman?” you said teasingly, but in secret, you had to admit you were a little upset. Just a little.
Heeseung stared back at you, a look of amusement and deadpan on his face.“I wasn’t flirting, Y/N. She was asking what drink I got since it looked funky and being the gentleman I am—” he gave you a smirk and winked, “— I answered her question, but she couldn’t hear me so I had to lean in. It’s genuinely a misunderstanding from someone else’s point of view,”
Noticing the slight lingering doubt in your features, he smiled at you reassuringly, throwing his arm around you and started guiding you back to the private room. “You do know I’m yours for the night, right? I won’t leave you for someone else. I told you I’ll have you by my side and I’ll stick to it,”
“Just for tonight?” you said curiously, peering up at him.
“What are you trying to say, Y/N?” he raised his eyebrow at you quizzically, but you just brushed it off, flushing a little at your own words, meanwhile Heeseung sneaked a small smile after noticing your panicky behaviour.
“Let me take you home,” Heeseung offered, pushing the door open to a room scattered with people here and there, some making out on the couch and some at the corner having small talks. The contrast was certainly there.
“What about the whole birthday celebration for Jay? Cake?”
“Oh he’s too drunk for that,” Heeseung waved his hand dismissively, as if this was a common occurrence. “Sunghoon will help him out, don’t worry,”
“If you say so … then I won’t decline your kind offer,” you furrowed your eyebrows, pursed your lips and stared pointedly at Heeseung. “Did you drink?”
“Mocktails, Y/N, mocktails. I’ve been pulled over before and trust me, I want none of that again,”
“Bad boy Heeseung … interesting,” you nodded slightly, a mischievous smirk on your face, to which was met with Heeseung unamused laugh.
“I’ll dump you here if you call me that again,” he huffed, picking up your jacket and bag.
“What happened to being yours for the night?” you said in a sing-song tone, looping your arm around his and pulled him through the door, making sure to wave a half-drunk Jay along the way out.
“Might have to make some adjustments then.”
“Mean.”
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NEVER IN YOUR DREAMS WOULD YOU EXPECT YUNJIN TO absolutely embarrass Heeseung the moment he dropped you off at your doorstep. But that was exactly what had happened. 
"Oh Heeseung," Yunjin opened the door with a hand placed on her hip, staring straight at Heeseung with a vague smile.
"Uh … hi?" Heeseung greeted back with uncertainty, panning back and forth between you and your roommate.
"Kissed Y/N yet?" 
You and Heeseung immediately froze on the spot, blinking in question back at Yunjin, and you swore to yourself that you couldn't take anymore embarrassing moments for the night or else you'll soon be six feet under. You felt heat travelling up to your face and embarrassment crawling onto your skin.
"Well! Goodnight, Heeseung. Thanks for the ride!" you instantly pushed Yunjin back inside, closing the door but just enough for you to peek your head out.
"Don't mind her, she likes to think … outside the box sometimes!" you whispered to him, an apologising half smile on your face and ears burning a scarlet red, which Heeseung mirrored and finally after a last goodbye, he left and you were alone with Yunjin.
"I'll kill you, Huh Yunjin."
"Fuck."
It's been a few days since that interesting exchange and you've already texted Heeseung about it, being able to sigh a breath of relief when he was cool about it and sparing the trouble of chasing Yunjin around. Soon, with the mountain load of work, it was already Friday night hockey in a blink of an eye.
“You whore! You lying whore," Yunjin hissed, sucking her teeth. "I heard a specific someone is done with hockey boys? Is she in the room with us now?”
You were caught guilty at once, passing Yunjin a dirty look as you pulled Heeseung's jersey over your head. "It just … happened. Oh my God, am I actually in love?"
"Let's not jump to conclusions first, genius," Yunjin poked your forehead. "Do you like him?"
"Yes."
"No hesitation. I've truly lost you to him, huh?"
"You're always my number one, Jen," you rolled your eyes at her antics, picking your stuff up and starting to make your way out to the arena with Yunjin clinging onto your arm.
“But the problem now is who’s going to make the move first?” Yunjin hummed, chewing thoughtfully on her bottom lip.
“I’m hoping he would,”
“Why don't you do it?”
“This isn’t the first day we’ve been friends, Jen,”
“Right …”
Being somebody who's afraid of confrontation, you find yourself stuck in the middle. Currently torn between wondering if you were finally ready for something new and worrying if Heeseung would treat you right. 'He's serious about you' rang in your head from time to time and you couldn't lie, you started reciprocating the interest he had in you over time.
"If you like him, just go for him," Yunjin spoke out of the blue after a moment of silence, as if reading your thoughts and sensing something off. "I'm serious, Y/N. He's a nice, genuine guy, and seeing the way he treats you, you deserve someone that gives you their all,"
"Yunjin I'll cry right now," you stopped in your tracks, pouting at your best friend while she could only laugh, throwing her arms around you and continuing to drag you towards the arena.
"Aren't they playing our rival team today?" Yunjin recalled, frowning a little upon realisation. "That means he's there too, no?"
"Unfortunately," you pressed your lips into a thin line, breathing out slowly. "You do remember me telling you that Heeseung and I bumped into him at the party right?"
“Yeah?”
“They’re definitely going to cause a scene tonight, I can feel it in my bones,” 
“It’s not that serious,”
“Remember Matthew’s lifelong rival since high school that I’ve mentioned before?”
“Don’t tell me it’s …”
“Heeseung. Small world, right?”
Yunjin raised her eyebrows in surprise, whistling quietly under her breath. "Quite unexpected," she said breathlessly, not realising that you were now already at the arena. "I'd love a fight,"
"You just love chaos,"
"And you're right," Yunjin smiled sweetly at you and you pushed her face away, earning a laugh from her. "Is Heeseung not meeting you pregame?" She nudged your side, raising her eyebrows expectantly with a knowing smirk on her face as she led you down to your usual seats in the arena.
"He did text me…" you said, seeing Yunjin's eyebrows rising higher. "But he said his coach is more strict for today so no pregame meetings,"
"Lame," Yunjin booed.
"He also said he's treating dinner tonight after the game,"
"Not lame," Yunjin switched up and practically almost jumped out of her seat, clapping her hands. "Let's feast tonight. Go team!"
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"MAN, I NEED SOME POPCORN FOR THIS,"
Nervousness started creeping up on you as you witnessed the heated start of the game, both teams clashing roughly into one another and fouling left and right. Yunjin was entertained; you were worried and stressed.
"They keep fouling our team and no time outs, you're kidding," you threw your hands up in frustration, noticing other students grumbling as well.
"Are we surprised? Big games are like this," Yunjin shook her head, crossing her arm and leaned back into her seat.
Two periods went by rather quickly, both teams were tied and obvious vexation hung in the air. You noticed Heeseung was practically flying around, chasing the puck with vigor, bumping hard into other players in order to reach the goalpost, but to his dismay, he missed the shot, earning groans from many, you included.
The third period rolled over in a blink of an eye, the tension heightened as the two teams were finding ways to score desperately. Your eyes instinctively followed Heeseung's speeding figure, but something in your stomach told you things were about to turn sour real quick.
Heeseung was zooming across the defenders with ease, guiding the puck towards the goalpost, until a distinct figure, who happened to be the one and only, Matthew, skated up next to him and started causing trouble. You couldn't tell what was exactly happening, but the aggression between the two was getting heavier by each second.
Next thing you knew, Heeseung rammed into your ex, sending him flying to the glass panels, but that wasn't all. Heeseung completely forgo the puck, throwing his gloves to the side and skated up to Matthew, sizing him up.
Both teams were extremely caught off by this sudden fight between them, everyone started panicking the moment Heeseung grabbed Matthew by the neck, but your ex seemed unfazed and continued uttering something to him, leading up to the part where Heeseung punched the latter in the face.
You and Yunjin audibly gasped and so did everyone else in the arena, including the players on the bench and the coaches who were yelling over the noise. Those on the ice made their way to the fight, trying their utmost best to rip the two apart, but Heeseung had his hands practically glued on Matthew, not wanting to let go as he was seen screaming at him.
"I mentioned wanting a fight but not like this …" Yunjin muttered, now standing and occasionally tip-toeing to see what was happening. "Matthew obviously egged him on and pissed Heeseung off,"
"Heeseung has the worst temper on ice, he knew what he was doing," you frowned, getting worried as you watched the referee sending both of them to the penalty box. Heeseung threw his helmet on the floor in frustration, his wet strands of hair sticking onto his forehead.
"Well, at least the team is winning," Yunjin pointed out to the score line, where a glorious 3-2 was showing on the jumbotron. The home team managed to score the winning goal after the game was resumed, taking advantage of the opposition's bewilderment from the fight to mess their strategy up.
The crowd was cheering and jumping, food got scattered around onto the floor and the away fans could only leave in silence. Towards the end of the final period, Heeseung's penalty ended and he joined the team in exiting the ice, face still a little sour as his coach started telling him off.
“You should find him after this,” Yunjin tapped your side and you nodded in agreement, making sure to text him beforehand. 
‘Locker room’ was the only thing he texted back and you slowly got anxious, curious as to what had really happened between him and your ex on ice. One thing’s for sure, it definitely wasn’t something good. 
You stormed up to the doors of the locker room, heaved a breath of courage and pushed your way in. Lucky for you, by the time you got there mostly everyone was gone, except for Heeseung and Sunghoon, both sitting on a bench, whispering aggressively at one another. That was until Sunghoon caught your approaching figure, giving Heeseung a final word before standing up.
“Y/N,” Sunghoon passed you an awkward smile, a first aid kit in his hands. “I’ll leave him in your hands, I have an appointment with someone now,” he basically thrusted the box into your hands, whispering a quick apology and thanks before scampering away.
You felt helpless and confused as the box sat in your hands, then you started advancing slowly towards Heeseung and soon, you were standing directly in front of him, prompting him to stare up at you, still managing to crack a smirk even when his face looked rough. His left eye was bruised, lips cut and cracked and practically bleeding, his knuckles red and bruised. Overall, he was quite literally a mess.
"You're wearing my jersey,"
"And you're bleeding right now, is that important?"
"To me it is,"
"You're a fool. You have a bruised eye now," you fingers grazed against his cheeks, gaze travelling from one end to the other of his face.
"Do you still think I’m cute?"
"One more word and I'll add a bruise on the other eye," you gave him a side eye and he only responded with a chuckle, patting the empty spot beside him and you complied, sitting down and your shoulder touched his, leaving zero space between the both of you.
“What happened?” you hissed, staring pointedly at him as your hands dug through the items in the first aid kit.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Heeseung grunted, nodding at your actions and you only returned an unamused look.
“I do, now stop avoiding my question,” you hissed, applying some ointment on his knuckles, causing him to flinch in pain, face screwed in discomfort. “What happened, Hee? I saw,”
Heeseung was reluctant, but he gave in eventually, anger evident in his gaze and tone. “It was your ex,”
“I know you are rivals, but you could’ve just ignored him—”
“No, you don't get it, I can’t! He was talking shit about you,” Heeseung ran a hand through his hair in frustration, adam apple bobbing as he tried not to burst out. "'Go back to that slut', 'do you enjoy my leftovers'. I can't just continue playing after the shit he said, there's no way I'll stand there and do nothing,"
"It's okay, Hee—"
"It's not," he huffed, his frown deepened, running a hand across his face. "It's not okay and I wasn't going to let that man call you names and walk free,"
You couldn't resist a smile, your heart thumping against your chest and your gaze softened, placing a hand on his. "Thanks for standing up for me. Really."
"I always will at any time, I care about you, Y/N, and I don't want anything bad happening to you," Heeseung blurted out, his face gradually turning red upon realising his own confession, making sure to seem nonchalant as he switched the topic. "You should've seen his face when I actually punched him. He was all talk only,"
"He's like that, unfortunately," you sighed as you finished wrapping some compressible bandages over his knuckles, whispering a quick 'sorry' when he winced.
“Honestly if you keep pulling these tricks on ice, I might think you’re into me,” you added boldly, referring to the other time where he dedicated a goal to you and he, too, realised the same, the tip of his ears turning a slight red.
“What if I told you I am?”
“Oh, I know,”
Heeseung leaned back, an amused grin plastered on his face. You couldn't tell if he's glad you knew or if he's in horror. "Am I that obvious? Am I too transparent?"
"Well, would you rather me be dumb and not take the hint?"
"Definitely not that," Heeseung leaned back closer to you, letting you clean the small cut on his lips. "I have a feeling someone ratted me out to you,"
"Partially, but I did have a feeling," 
"Motherfucker," he hissed under his breath, then his eyes widened, a look of panic flashed across his face. "So … you know I liked you before this, then do you … like me?"
You rolled your eyes, in disbelief these words were coming from the fuckboy himself. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be sitting here," you were finally done patching him up, placing everything back neatly into the box as he watched your every move. "You're fantastic at hockey but you're terrible at feelings, Hee,"
"I'm easily intimidated,"
"I didn't see you being intimidated while fighting,"
"Intimidated by pretty girls, I mean,"
"How charming," you mused, bumping his shoulder softly. "When and how did it even start, I thought you were the type to fuck around,"
"I've noticed you since English class and after some time, I saw you at my games too. I didn't want to approach you since I was worried you'd think of me differently because of my past—"
"Fuckboy-ness?"
"You could put it that way," Heeseung clapped his hands, leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. "I just liked you. You were funny at presentations, charming, passionate in things you liked. I wanted to get to know you better and after meeting you, it just … clicked,"
"But at the party, why did you even bother asking my name when you already knew who I was?"
"First impressions matter, Y/N. I didn't want to seem like a whole ass stalker,"
"You could've mentioned that you knew my name from English. 'Oh you're Y/N from English', there,"
"Are you teaching me how to flirt?"
"I'm teaching you how to flirt with me,"
"Alright then," Heeseung turned his body to fully face you now, a look of seriousness on his face. "Y/N from English, I like you. So much till the point where I feel suffocated. I don't care if you'll beat my ass after we lose and I'll listen to all of your analysis, will you go out with me?"
"Yes and I like you too, jackass. Now shut up and kiss me already," you wrapped a hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in towards you and attached your lips to his, instantly melting against his touch the moment he snaked a hand across your jaw. 
You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt like a dream. His lips were soft, the taste of mint on his tongue lingered, the feeling on his lips on yours was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. 
Heeseung broke away momentarily, his forehead remained pressed against yours and you could feel his breath against your lips. "You're really romantic, Y/N,"
"You bet," you giggled in between kisses, your hands pushing him back a little as he practically chased your lips like a starved man. "You should go change,"
"Fuck, you're right," he glanced down at his hockey gear clad body. "It's getting late too, I'll drive you back. Want to stop by a drive through? I told you tonight's my treat,"
"I'm down,"
"Let me get my clothes, wait here," Heeseung stood up, ready to walk away but halting abruptly. "Tomorrow night, dinner, is that okay?"
"Are you asking me out on a date?"
"It's whatever you like,"
"Pick me up at 7,"
"On it," Heeseung nodded slowly, taking note of it mentally. "Also, does Yunjin want some food too?"
"If you buy her some, you'll immediately be on her good list, just saying,"
"You two are so alike, it's scary,"
"We're besties for a reason."
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IT'S BEEN FIVE MONTHS EVER SINCE THAT NIGHT IN THE LOCKER room. You remembered coming home with Heeseung tailing behind you after, a bag of food in his hands and a welcoming Yunjin greeting him at the door.
"You two finally kissed, didn't you?" Yunjin mentioned carelessly in between bites of her burger and you swore you saw Heeseung's soul escaping his body. "That's the shade of lipstick Y/N wears on the side of your lips,"
Heeseung's hand flew to the side of his lips, touching the spot where you gave him a small peck of encouragement before getting off of the car.
"I'm glad you two are together," Yunjin continued, not noticing the flushed state you and Heeseung were in. "It's been months—oh God, I need to tell Jake this,"
And she did, leading to Jake calling you up the day after where he basically shouted through the phone. Since then, you had a plus one to every football game Jake played in.
"You guys are so annoying," Yunjin grimaced at the sight of Heeseung leaning his head onto your shoulder.
It was currently a Saturday night just after Heeseung's playoff match in which he scored three goals, so now, the team and your friends were at a nearby bar celebrating the victory.
"Stop being jealous," Heeseung defended, dropping his voice and closing in. "That's why I told you to go for Jay,"
"Him? Only God can put up with him, I barely know him and I already couldn't stand him,"
"Someone will eventually," you shrugged, taking a sip out of your mocktail.
"Good luck to them," Jake mumbled, holding his cup up for a toast and downed it all within the next second.
The night ended with a very drunk Yunjin along with many other drunk hockey players stumbling over their feet. Jake offered to take Yunjin home and she could only splutter out some responses, while you and Heeseung went by yourselves.
"If we can win the playoffs, I'll literally explode," Heeseung was currently the happiest man in the world, one hand holding his girlfriend while the other was close to touching the playoff trophy. He could ask for nothing more.
"It'll happen, Hee," you assured, running your thumb across his finger softly. "It's bound to happen, the team is strong. You have to believe my analysis too,"
"Pfft, fairs, your analysis does always hit the spot,"
"See? I'm always right,"
"Yeah yeah," Heeseung chuckled, pulling the car to park once you've arrived at your dorm's carpark and you two just sat there naturally, a sense of ambiance in the air as the radio played quietly in the background.
"I love you,"
Those three words were the first to break the silence. Heeseung looked like he was in disbelief although he was the one who said it first. Meanwhile, you were starting to smile like a fool.
"Did I—"
"I love you too, you idiot," you grabbed his face before he could continue, knowing well he'll end up rambling in the end. You pressed a chaste kiss on his lips, earning a stunned look from him until he eventually returned the favour.
"Was it too soon?" He mumbled against your lips as he gradually pulled away.
"I was actually wondering when you'll crack,"
"Fuck off," he scoffed, squeezing your cheek gently upon seeing your playful smirk. His gaze softened, eyes evidently filled with affection, anyone could literally vouch for how whipped this man was."I love you, stay by me forever, please,"
"Say less, captain." 
Hockey boys might've scared you once, but this time, one of them ended up mending your broken heart and won you over instead, and thankfully, he was here to stay. For a long time.
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fayeriess · 4 days
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⋆。‧₊°♱༺ THE INEVITABLE PULL ༻♱༉‧₊˚.
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ellie williams x fem!reader
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summary: on the night of her twenty-first birthday, ellie find herself in the one place she asked jesse not to bring her. a strip club.
warning(s): 18+ smut, modern!au, stripper!reader, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, dudes in clubs being jackasses, jesse being a wingman ( thank you bestie ), dry humping ( a little?? ), fingering ( reader!receiving ),oral ( elle!receiving ), a one night stand, essentially. not proof-read!
a/n: yet another one-shot i'm bringing back. i do have a little 90s ellie drabble in my drafts that I'm working on so definitely let me know if you'd like to see that ;)
You know that feeling you get when you walk into a place you don’t want to be in? A feeling so uncomfortable that it makes you involuntarily bounce back and forth from the heels of your feet to the tips of your toes, eyes darting from left to right trying to observe the situation you were faced with. 
Ellie was unfortunate enough to be experiencing it tonight as the blood in her veins thumped into the base of her eardrums, her hands in the small pockets of the denim jeans she wore as her shoulders hunched with uncertainty. The air smelt like immeasurable amounts of liquor and what Jesse described as ‘fun times’. 
He had coaxed her out of her apartment and off of the confines of her couch on the eve of her twenty-first birthday, a smile on his face as he landed a pat with an open palm on the back of her right shoulder which rattled her, a grimace curling onto the skin of her lips. Playing the scenario back in her mind now, it seemed as if he considered her feelings which didn’t end up being the case. Sometimes, Ellie would find herself filled with slight guilt for even having the thought of her friend being faintly ignorant — but it oozed out of him as he weaved his way through the teeming club. She was barely one for small parties, preferring to linger in the corners away from unseen eyes, processing what was laid before her in the form of passing bodies. 
Finding herself experiencing how it felt to be somewhere more open — more suffocated — made her stomach tie in the tightest of knots. 
Blowing a puff of air out of her throat, Ellie felt annoyance creeping up within her as the bone of her shoulder collided with someone else’s.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going.”
Through the tumultuous beat of hip-hop music, those seven gruff words reached the canal of her ears causing the soles of her shoes to squelch on the scuffed polish of the club floor as she turned around. Deep lines formed between her eyebrows as she scowled, her fingers curling into the palm of her hand, teeth gritting together.
“The fuck?”
Ellie didn’t know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse that no matter the situation, her mouth couldn’t just stay closed even with multiple attempted efforts. It worked out for her in less violent ways fifty percent of the time. Whereas, the other fifty percent caused adrenaline to pump in her veins so quickly that her body would shake slightly, growing numb as if to prepare for whatever damage would arise. 
People tended to underestimate how much damage swirled around her balled fists due to her average stature and the fact that she was a girl. She knew better than to let things progress further, not only for the sake of not wanting to deal with it on her birthday but for the poor patron who’d most likely end up losing if he decided to take the unknown risk of a fistfight. Especially with her. 
“You fuckin’ heard me.” The man towered over her, dark eyes riddled with drunkenness and a bubbling fury as she looked up at him through low eyelids, a smirk appearing at the corners of her mouth. 
Through her peripheral vision, she could see the stares of other club-goers as they observed the altercation with interest, curious to see who would throw the first punch. It would’ve been Ellie. Seriously, she was so close to cocking her fist back just to swing it into his aging face but Jesse had a knack for knowing when his friend got into trouble because he appeared next to her before she could blink, fingers grabbing at the back of the plaid button-down she wore, trying to de-escalate the painstakingly icky tension as those who were unaware continued with their night.
“Woah.” He dragged out in an airy laugh, snaking himself in front of Ellie in case things went south. “No problems here, right?” 
Not trusting herself enough to not utter a single word, Ellie turned and let her feet carry her straight to the bar at the far left corner, jaw tight as she found an empty spot to slide herself into in hopes of getting herself a drink as it had just reached one in the morning. If she had the option to restart the first hour of her birthday somewhere else, she could, but beggars can’t be choosers — and Ellie was far from being a beggar. 
Locking her eyes onto her choice of liquor, she let the music creep back in her ears once more as her eyes clouded over, scanning the crevices of her brain for the pros and cons of having a couple of shots throughout the night, or just getting a glass straight-up. 
Clearing his throat, Jessie weaseled his way next to her before grabbing the bartender’s attention, his pearly white teething glistening under the neon lights that shone through the darkness, eyes shamelessly roaming across her body as she bit her lip flirtatiously. 
Ellie couldn’t roll her eyes, itching to have a drink in her grasp to ease the small jolt of nerves that would pinch her every couple of seconds. 
“Can I get angel’s envy on the rocks?” She asked, avoiding looking at the lady behind the bar as she nodded curtly.
 “Sure thing, honey.” Turning to Jesse, her back arched slightly as a means to pop her chest in his face a little more. The only thing that was stopping her from leaning closer was the countertop between them as she spoke lowly. 
“And for you, baby?” She drawled, voice slow. She already had a couple of drinks, which was evident through her shameless attempt at flirting which the dark-haired man seemed to be into for some reason. 
His lips quirked up, arms crossed over each other as he went to rest them on the bartop, eyes boring right into her soul.
“Same thing.” 
Ellie took the opportunity to observe her surroundings even further. Eyes moved from the people sitting in small round booths and velvet chairs to the stage that sat front and center, one of the main reasons why she had been brought here tonight. A pole stood upright under the bright white lights, metal practically sparkling, blinding her as if to make its presence more known to her than it already was. 
In life, there were a lot of firsts and Ellie had gladly experienced them with pride, diving headfirst. However, this was a completely different ball game that filled her with a small enough amount of discomfort that caused her to scratch at the nape of her neck. 
“Y’know, the least you could do is say thank you for having me deal with your shit.” Jesse chuckled jokingly, fingers jutting outward to slide the glass toward her which she took without a second thought. 
Although Ellie could sense the humor in his voice, the bitterness she felt seemed to overpower her brain before she could correctly process her words. “The least? You could’ve been a little more considerate when you decided on where to take me on my birthday.” 
She leaned closer to him, having to raise her voice to be heard through the music. “A fucking strip club. Really?” 
Raising his glass, he just smiled smugly at her which caused her eyes to roll to the back of her head for the second time that night before he clanked it with hers in a toast. “To being twenty-one.” Tilting the chilled cup toward his mouth, he downed his whiskey in one go before shaking his head to rid of the burning in his throat. Ellie followed right after, letting her eyes screwed shut as heat ran into the pit of her stomach.
“God that was fucking awful.” 
All Ellie got in response was Jesse’s arm over her shoulder as he stood on the tips of his toes, neck craning over heads as if he was looking for something in particular. Before she could ask, his eyes lit up, her body moving forcefully as he dragged her away from the bar and in the direction of a booth that was mostly empty beside three other people occupying a small section of space. Jesse’s friends. 
Truthfully, this night seemed to be getting worse as she watched Jesse slide himself in before moving in his seat, the leather squeaking as it rubbed against his clothes. Ellie licked her lips, tasting a hint of the shea butter chapstick she had applied to them earlier in the night, body growing rigid as one of his friends stared at her with wavering uninterest. 
“Who are you again? He slurred, lazily pointing a finger in her direction, swaying in his seat slightly. 
Ellie’s reply was simple and cold. “Ellie.” 
Jesse slapped him on the back, sending his torso to push forward and some of his liquor to fall out of his shot glass and onto the table in front of them. “Seth shut the fuck up.” 
Seth opened his mouth, lips in the shape of an ‘o’ before his face contorted into one of amusement, “Oh” He chuckled.
If Ellie was being honest with herself, she didn’t remember his name either. Jesse’s friends weren’t people she would necessarily surround herself with if she was looking for company. On occasion, she’d stop at Dean’s house ( the name of the only one she bothered to remember, only because he treated her like he would any of his other guy friends ) with him only because she got to smoke for free, and she’d never pass up free weed. 
Moving to sit, Ellie lowered herself before breathing in through her nose, the lighting dimming above her almost instantly as the song that was playing came to a pause before another one followed behind. 
Confusion grew on her features as the sharp clank of heels could be heard from where she was, just a couple of feet away, in the third row of seats right smack in the middle. She didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t as if she was well-versed in the club universe because she hadn’t been in one before tonight.
She heard Dean hiss behind his teeth before whistling loudly, “Damn.” 
Averting her gaze toward center stage, she could feel her cheeks warm as she stared at you. Your hair fell down your shoulders in loose waves, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth before you smiled warmly, red nails gliding up and down your hips before you swayed them side to side seductively, moving to the rhythm of the music. Hoots and hollers filled the expanse of space, bouncing off the walls and directly into her ears. 
“Fuck, she’s hot.” 
Ellie was thankful for the darkness that enveloped the room as the crimson flush on her cheeks darkened in color even further. She shuffled back into her seat, keeping her gaze locked on your body as you spun around the pole, the string of your black thong hiking up your hip just a little higher, something she swore only she noticed. 
With her gaze boring into your frame, she watched as you swung one leg over the other, spinning on your heels before lifting yourself off the stage using the pole, your grip tightening as your feet moved in place. 
This feeling in between her legs, the ache she got from just seeing you was otherworldly, she felt wrong about it. She didn’t even know you ( as badly as she wanted to now ) to be feeling the way she did. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach fluttered so aggressively that they felt as if they were crawling out her throat as her breath hitched. 
When the money appeared, adorning you as if it was rain falling, she melted into the leather of the booth. Her eyes widened before a cough emitted from her throat, her heart picking up its pace as your eyes darted across the crowd and she swore you were staring at her as you crawled on all fours in front of the stage. 
So, the only natural thing for her to do was stare right back at you, keeping her gaze locked on your low-lidded eyes before letting someone lift the band of your thong to place a wad of cash, their fingers lingering on your bare hip for longer than necessary before you gracefully danced away. 
You were a goddess, clad in her most seductive armor that nobody could lay a finger on. Ellie could tell by the way you carried yourself, head held high and body swinging low as cash surrounded you. As awkward as she felt, she sure hoped she didn’t look the part because your eyes were still on her. 
A small smack to her arm caused her to twist her head in Jesse’s direction, a frown on her face as she tried to stare at him through the darkness. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” 
His eyebrows raised in amusement, lips pressed together to keep himself from laughing aloud. “It’s okay you know, to stare, that’s why we’re here.” 
Putting the palms of his hands out, he gestured around him as if to prove a point. 
Ellie tutted before she grabbed a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear, grabbing at the new drink that miraculously appeared ( he must’ve grabbed it off of one of the guys ) before gulping the rest of its contents down, lips puckering as her lungs developed a burn that only Hennesey could give her. 
“This is the last time I’m letting you drag me anywhere without telling me first.” She huffed, blowing out a breath that caused her cheeks to ache slightly. She averted her gaze to you again, this time watching as you left the stage, signaling the end of your set as people cheered and whistled. 
“That was something, I’ll tell you that.” She heard Dean say, his hands traveling down to his pants to try and conceal the very noticeable boner that had tented. 
Ellie pulled her lips back in a snarl, teeth out in the open as an uncomfortable expression reached her features, skin near the corners of her eyes creasing as she narrowed them in his direction. Men were fucking gross — and the way he sat there, licking his lips hungrily as if he’s made up his mind to go after you tonight  — only furthered that thought into the front of her mind. 
The leather seat dipped slightly when Jesse took the initiative to scoot himself closer to her, leaning down to yell, “Was I right?”
Ellie glanced at him through low eyes as the scent of weed hit her nose, merely shrugging in response before lifting herself and pulling down the ends of her shirt, the cotton material having ridden up. 
Se suddenly found herself staring at the bar a couple of feet away from her, coincidentally landing her green eyes on the dip of your back, the bands on your thong littered with cash still. You looked fucking amazing. Your hair was now bunched up in your right hand as you fanned your neck with the left one, your crimson-painted lips moving quickly as you spoke to the bartender she felt herself loathing after their earlier interaction. If you could even call it that. 
A high-pitched whistle beside her pulled her out of whatever thoughts consumed the spaces of her mind. It was none other than her friend, moving his head to stare at who she’d been eyeing. Finally, he saw you in the crowd of people squished at the bartop, and then his brown eyes moved toward Ellie’s face. He knew she wasn’t going to approach you willingly, even if the desperation to speak to you was written across her face in big, bold, lettering. So, he decided to be the devil — or the angel — on her shoulder. 
“Go talk to her, make a move.” 
Ellie wanted to laugh. The urge bubbled up in her throat like bile, and she let it go. Giving him the most genuine chuckle she’s given him all night, shaking her head from side to side. “I doubt she’s into girls.” 
For some reason, considering that as an option made her mood dampen slightly. Anyone here could see the confidence that exuded from you, it lingered in your sweet perfume when you’d pass by people and she was pretty sure she was falling victim to it.
Shrugging, Jesse let his lips pull into a frown, urging her further. “You don’t know that.” 
That was true, she thought as she shamelessly stared you down, her sweaty palms at her sides as she tried to inconspicuously wipe them on the denim of her jeans. Relenting, she felt her heart quicken as her feet carried her toward where you were standing under the neon lights of the bar. 
You looked even prettier up close, your unique features burning into the part of her brain where long-term memory was, trying to soak you in before you noticed she was there. 
“Did you enjoy the show?” Ellie was a goner. Your voice was sweet and sultry, low with a hint of fatigue weaved in between them as you kept your eyes down, your nails tapping against the glass in front of you. 
Ellie cleared the blockage in her throat before answering. “Uh yeah, it was nice.” 
Licking your lips, you still kept your head low but she could see you staring at her from the corner of your eyes. “You were staring.” 
So you did notice her looking at you, which meant that you were indeed looking at her as you danced flawlessly on stage. At least she wasn’t going crazy. 
Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks for what was the tenth time, she stuttered, trying to look anywhere, the confidence she once had evaporating as your light laughter reached her ears. “Everyone was staring.” She managed to spit, biting the inside of her cheek. 
“I wasn’t looking at everyone else though…” 
This made her smile, slightly bashful that you had said those words to her. Maybe you were just naturally a flirt, seeking thrills on sweet-talking club-goers only to leave them wanting more once you left. Oddly, she decided to entertain you by twisting her neck in your direction, the tattoo on her arm taking all the attention as your eyes burned into the skin peeking from under her jacket. 
You continued, “You stick out like a sore thumb, but it’s okay. I like seeing new faces.” Sliding your glass in her direction, you watched with curiosity as she picked it up, swirling the contents in the glass, ice cubes clinking against each other before she let the rest of it slide down her throat. 
Ellie wasn’t a big drinker and she was sure she’d feel the consequences of her choice in the morning, but being next to you — talking to you, was worth whatever hangover would greet her in the morning. 
Pushing for a conversation, you asked her a question. “So, did your friends drag you here or something.” 
Unbeknownst to you, that was exactly the case which she confirmed by nodding. A dry laugh came from her mouth, causing her to cringe at just how fake it sounded but you didn’t seem to mind. “Uh, yeah, that’s exactly it.” 
You turned your body toward her fully, lifting at the strap of your lacey bra, your breasts moving upward just an inch but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ellie as her eyes landed on your chest for a fraction of a second before she was looking at your face again. 
‘How’d you know.” 
“You look uncomfortable. This isn’t your thing?” 
With that question in mind, Ellie felt the vibration of the music in the soles of her sneaker-clad feet, so loud that her body hummed along with the music, the smell of weed burning the hairs in her nostrils as giggles bounced into her ears. “Not really, it’s my birthday so my friend brought me.” 
Your eyes lit up, pearly white teeth contrasting against the dark tint of your lipstick. “Happy Birthday to you then,” 
Ellie moved her mouth to reply with a small ‘thank you’ but the bartender appeared in front of the both of you before you asked her for a shot which she gave you quicker than she had taken Ellie’s drink order. She watched as you slid it in her direction like previously, a smirk decorating your lips as she made eye contact with you, putting the rim of the shot glass between her lips and letting it snake down her throat, the sensation of the burn causing a sharp intake of breath. 
Goosebumps littered your exposed skin as you felt a sudden dull ache grow between your legs. The tension was bouncing between you, deflecting off of the invisible barrier that loitered, cracking just a tad before you backed away. “I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you…”
“Ellie.” 
Giving her one last smile, you nodded. “I hope I’ll see you around soon.” 
She waved with a hand, lips pursed as you turned on your heels and disappeared behind a metal door labeled ‘staff only’.
Usually, every girl Ellie’s ever had an interaction with ended up with her itching to move away from the situation she dragged herself into, jaw tight and teeth grinding together. It was different this time, probably because it was you. The fact that she had no clue what your name was, intrigued her beyond the point of no return. She found herself stuck on you despite having a conversation that lasted all but five minutes — which felt like thirty seconds. 
Sighing, she made her way back to Jesse and his extremely drunk friends. Dean and Seth were shoving each other like fucking five-year-olds bickering over something stupid, their faces inches apart that Ellie felt like she was intruding on a private matter. 
Sitting down again, Ellie let herself endure the two hours in silence next to Jesse as the night wasted away, more drinks being spilled, annoyance growing. She didn’t know how long she was glued to that seat when she made her way outside the double doors, breathing in the fresh air that she took for granted, sighing as she ran a hand through her short auburn hair, the rings on her fingers clattering together as she did so.
 At this point, it was just nearly three in the morning. The dim street lights illuminated the empty street, the leaves on tree branches swaying with the wind in the direction it whipped in. An occasional leaf swayed to the ground as she sat on the curb, the skin of her palms peeling from the roughness of the concrete. 
“I’m fucking serious, Willow.” Moving her head in the direction of the voice, her heart skipped a beat as you stood there with your jacket in hand. You have changed into more comfortable clothes. Your thong is now replaced by pink sweatpants, baggy as they hang low on your hips, and a tank top in place of your bra. Glancing down at your shoes, she could see the white Nike socks keeping your feet warm from the cold, a pair of slides on your feet. You were arguing with someone, that much was obvious. 
The girl in front of you towered so high, it was almost threatening but you didn’t falter in your stance. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she spoke with malice. “You don’t think I’m not? You can come here and dance half naked for some fucking cash but can’t text me back.” 
You scoffed, clicking your tongue while taking a small step back. “This is my job, I’m obligated to come here.” You gestured toward the club with a finger, wilding pointing before jabbing the same finger into her chest. “I don’t need to text you. You’re not my girlfriend, remember?” 
Licking her lips, the gears turned in Ellie’s brain as she weighed her options. She could intervene, ask what the problem was, be your knight in shining armor — but she decided against it. Her palms grew sweaty once more as she continued to watch the interaction. 
The girl breathed through her nose, nostrils expanding as she took in a deep breath before balling her fists at her side, something you didn’t seem to notice as you stared into her eyes with what could only be described as hatred. 
“Fine, have it your way then.” She walked away, angrily stepping toward her car a couple of feet away from you, opening the door with such force that it nearly broke off. “Don’t expect me to take you back when you come crawling with those fake tears of yours.”
You rolled your eyes, shoving your jacket closer to your chest as you watched her get in her car, tires squealing loudly as she peeled out of the parking lot, leaving tracks on the pavement.
Turning around, you saw Ellie staring at you but still pressed against the curb as you walked over toward her, embarrassment creeping up on you in the form of warm cheeks and pressure behind your eyes. Tears. 
Rubbing at your nose with the back of your hand, you gave her a tight-lipped smile before bending down to join her. “Did you see everything?”
She could see just how embarrassed you were as you pushed the nails on your finger toward your mouth, biting at them nervously. Nodding, she spoke lowly, “Yeah, was that your ex-girlfriend?”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded curtly. “Sadly,” 
Not knowing what else to say, she just sat there in silence, enjoying the quietness of the outside world with you next to her. The silence wasn’t awkward — quite the opposite as she no longer felt nervous or out of place as a couple of minutes passed, glances to each other being shared throughout. 
Ellie was growing tired, eyes riddled with a hint of sleep and the extended feeling of desperation urged her to take herself home. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she pressed the side button as the screen lit up, the clock on her home screen reading 3:15 am before she turned it back off again. With a yawn, she lifted herself off the curb, stretching her limbs as some of them cracked at the sensation of no longer being hunched over uncomfortably. 
Turning to look down at you, she saw that you were already staring up at her with doe eyes, lips etched into what seemed like a permanent frown. “Do you have a ride home?” The words left her mouth before she could process them and she wanted to smack herself right after. 
Nodding, you jerked your head toward the black double doors, “My friend’s a bouncer, he usually walks me home since I don’t live far.” You don’t know why you said the last part, internally face-palming at the fact that you gave her a slight hint as to where you lived. 
She didn’t know if it was appropriate to ask if she could walk you home. Even thinking about asking you sent her heart racing wildly inside the expanse of her chest. But, tonight was full of risks and she liked to consider herself a risk-taker — so she bit.
“I can walk you if you want.” She spoke quickly, rushing to explain her thought process. “I’m just saying because it’s like three in the morning and -”
You laughed loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth after it had left you. “I’m sorry, I'm just laughing because it’s kind of cute when you ramble.” You expressed, nodding as you rose to stand next to her causing her to scratch the back of her neck before tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “But yes, I’d appreciate it if you did.” She promised that if she were able to turn into some form of mush, she would’ve in that very moment that you said her name. 
The walk was nice, to Ellie at least, as you talked to her about your job and the other girls that worked there. She listened with interest although she wasn’t a big gossiper, asking you questions about certain things to let you know that she was listening to every word you said, hanging onto them.  She saw how your steps slowed after walking around four blocks before coming to a complete stop in front of a lone door, the redness of the metal sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the street. 
All she did was stand there with her hands in her jeans pockets as you fiddled with the knob, wedging your key inside before pushing it open.
“This is me.” You sighed, stepping inside the dark hallway, turning to face her as you leaned your cheek against the cool edge of your front door, fluttering your eyelashes. “Do you want to like… come in and have a drink? I know it’s almost four in the morning, but I feel bad for taking up your offer of walking me home since it’s your birthday and all.” 
Ellie knew that if she declined your offer, she’d find herself on her bed, wishing she had taken you up on your offer for another drink. Like she said earlier, tonight was all about risks. She’d greedily take this one. 
The nod she gave you sent shivers up your spine, her body moving inside your house as a means to shield herself from the chill night air. The temperature difference made her realize just how buzzed she was as she stood in the darkness of what she assumed was your living room. 
From behind her, she could hear the little ‘plink’ of the light switch as you flicked it on, light flooding the room. 
“You can place your coat here if you want.” 
She turned, raising her eyebrows to see what you were talking about until she saw you hang your jacket on a hook near the door, a hand behind you to take hers from her. She shrugged it off quickly before handing it to you, watching as you stood on your toes to hang hers on the hook above the first one hammered into the wall. 
Moving past her into the kitchen, she had no choice but to follow as you lit the room once more, the small island catching her attention immediately due to how messy it was. 
As if you were reading her thoughts, you spoke with some embarrassment in your voice. “I would’ve cleaned up if I knew I was going to be bringing guests over.” 
She eyed the items around the small area before shaking her head. “No, it’s okay, this allows me to scan for conversation topics.” Was it weird that she said that? Well, you didn’t seem to think so as you laughed heartily from your stomach, hands pulling at the fridge handle, browsing at the limited options of liquor. 
“Uh… do you want a shot of tequila or a glass of Rosè?” She heard your muffled question to which she answered quickly. 
“Tequila.”
“Alright, my kind of girl!” You exclaimed happily, setting the bottle down on the island and grabbing two shot glasses from one of your wooden cabinets. 
Twisting the lid off, you poured the liquor into the small glasses which caused her to stand across from you, drunken eyes watching as you handed her one. She took it before staring into your eyes once again, hungrily this time, as you rubbed your thighs together under her gaze. 
The both of you tilted your head back in unison, downing the shot quickly before you waltzed to where she was standing, eyes never leaving hers as you brought your face closer. 
You didn’t know why you did what you did, and neither did she quite frankly as she stood, stiff and with ragged breaths as you closed the small gap between the two of you. She immediately returned the kiss, her back digging into the edge of the island counter, as you pressed against her, grabbing the shirt she was wearing, tugging it with need. 
With a hand snaked around your back, she moved the other to grab the back of your neck, forcing your teeth to clash against hers as her tongue made its way into the deliciousness of your mouth. You moaned, entwining yours around hers wetly, her warm breath mixing with yours. 
She met you all but four hours ago, and here she was, in your house kissing you as if her life depended on it. 
Her hands moved to your ass, squeezing through the material of your sweatpants as hard as she could when you ground your hips against hers, wanting to dissipate the aching throb between your legs. 
Noticing this, Ellie moved her hand to the front of your sweats, fingers dancing down your naval and onto your folds, opening them slightly to rub at your clit. You whined, pressing your forehead against hers with a hand on the nape of her neck, squeezing slightly. The action caused her to rub at your swelling bud even faster, keeping note of the way your face contorted into one of pleasure, your eyes in the back of your head. 
“You like that, hm?” Seeing you like this, your body pressed against hers leaving little to no space to even breathe made her the wettest she’s ever been. 
You only put your head in the crook of her neck as a response, teeth grazing at the skin below her ear as she shuddered, your slick pooling into her hand when a finger entered you, stretching you oh-so deliciously. 
A sob ripped from your throat, your teeth digging into her neck as you bit to keep yourself from being too loud. Ellie couldn’t help the groan that escaped her when she felt you nipping at the base of her neck, stomach tying into knots at the thought of even just getting to fuck you. 
“Oh, my g-god.” You stuttered, paying extra attention to the finger that was moving in and out of you quickly, grinding yourself onto it lower, with such haste that you just had to scream out. 
“C’mon, baby, I know you can say more than that.” She slurred encouragingly into your ear, the hand on your ass pulling you even further into her as she shoved a second finger in without warning. 
“Feels so fuckin’ good.” You were boarding on tipsy at this point, and not just on alcohol, but the feeling of her fingers as they wormed their way back inside you relentlessly. 
You heard her chuckle, “That’s it, that’s right.” 
Her breathing in your ear, chanting praises, the sensation of white heat building up in your stomach became overwhelming as you clenched around her fingers, releasing all your built-up sexual tension. Or so you thought because when Ellie slowly put her fingers that were previously inside you into her mouth and sucked them dry, you went almost animalistic. 
“Sit on the counter.” You purred, eyelashes fluttering at her, your lids low with arousal and drunkenness. 
Ellie wasn’t one to find herself obeying others, especially in sexual situations,  but for some reason, she found herself doing exactly what you said with a slight tint to her cheeks that wasn’t just from the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night. This hangover was gonna be a bitch.
You loomed over her, arms on either side of her, palms pressed against the counter. “Let me taste you.” 
The pattern of her breathing changed, making her chest rise up and down quickly before she uttered something almost incomprehensible to you. “I’m not the one usually receiving.”
The smile that you gave her was devious as your hands toyed with the button of her jeans, “Please?” You found it pathetic at the way you begged her, but you didn’t care, not one bit as she nodded her head, letting you unclasp the button before you tugged them off along with her black briefs, throwing them somewhere in the kitchen to find later. She felt the cool marble of the countertop against her bottom as she grasped at the edge of the counter with her ringed fingers, looking down at you with so much lust behind her eyes that you could’ve just come for the second time right then and there.
“I’m gonna make you feel good.” You hushed, kissing the inside of her thighs with fervor before swiping your tongue over her cunt, lapping at her juices as they leaked onto your tongue. You sucked harshly at her clit causing her to sob once, hands digging into your hair as she ground her hips into your face further.
 “Mhm,” You moaned into her core, feeling her throb against your mouth, tongue flicking quickly at her clit, her arousal mixed with your spit sending her mind to an entirely different planet as her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. 
You were staring at her the entire time, your arousal wetting the material of your underwear, making them stick to your folds as you shuffled your hips to move into her more, feeling her shake above you. 
“O - oh my god, fuck.” She whined, lip quivering as her legs shook, an orgasm so intense that she grew numb, letting her spend get sucked onto your tongue before you removed yourself, dabbing at the sides of your mouth with a finger. 
Ellie Williams was completely fucked and love-drunk on you, and she didn’t even fucking know you.
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sintiva · 6 months
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just some eren!
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nerd!’ren and reader took it slow when they first met. trips to the library, the icecream shop to get your favorite caramel and pralines double scoop. then his or your dorm when you two had to study some more. it was preferably done in your room, cause he just loved getting the chance to see what new things furnished your dorm. maybe another pillow? a fluffy crocheted blanket? some decor? a new candle. whatever it was it made him happy seeing you swell and overflow with joy.
you’d get all bouncy, dancing around your room on the tip of your toes. slipping off all your clothes till your in nothing but a tank top and some really short shorts with no panties. then eren proceeds with his usual. he goes to bathroom, he’s gotta piss or so he says. but really he’s just a weirdo, he stares at your hamper. eyes glazed and fixated on the black laced thong that sat at the top of the pile. he moves quickly. he plucks them from the top and balls it up in his hand. then he’s putting up to his nose, inhaling every inch of you relishing in the scent that gets him harder then ever. his back’s to the door and he’s tugging his sweats down. he’s gulping down his whimpers as his fists wraps around his cock. his thumb is shaky as he swipes it over his tip. translucent beads of precum pearl at his tip, and drip down his sides flowing down the shape of each vein as they flow to the base of his cock. for the most part, he keeps himself trimmed, but he’s been so stressed with school it’s gotten a bit messy.
from the other side of your bathroom door you can hear him groaning. there’s a lewd air that permeates through the door as the sound of his palm, wet and sticky against his cock, grows louder. your fingers don’t do enough to stimulate your clit. you feel like such a loser. why can’t you just open the door and tell him every time he comes over your pussy gets all sticky and that playing with yourself doesn’t quell the thought. why’s it so hard to tell him that you want him to take you over and over again. seeing his print through his loser sweats, the brunette strands that travel down them. he’s a curse, a big freaking loser who you need in between your legs. but it only gets worse. you hear him groan your name and your stomach does flips. it’s not only your name, it’s the things he says after. like how he wants to put a baby in you, he wants to knock up the pretty girl who only cares about herself and her grades. he’s moaning about how he’d give you the best dick of your life if you’d give him a chance. you always look like you want to give him a chance too, so is he wrong for assuming.
on the other side of the door, he’s dripping profusely. his knuckles are trembling as he milks himself, his tummy jerks with each pull. he’s thrusting his hips, fucking his hand and losing himself in the smell of you. then he gets the big idea to cum on your panties. his balls twitch from overstimulation, but his slit pulses as more cum trickles out into your panties. he pants weakly, ‘fucks’ and ‘shits’ spew from his mouth. he’s hot, his dick won’t go down, and he made a fucking mess of your panties. you can hear him shuffling on the other side. you hear the turmoil, the disgust with himself for being such a whimp. “um, ‘ren? you okay in there?” you slightly shout as you step away from the door.
“yeah...ha- totally! i-i just made a little bit of a mess so i just have to clean up…a-around the sink…haha.” he’s damn awkward and such a terrible liar.
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cameronspecial · 1 month
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At Her Beck And Call
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Swearing and Assault
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.8K
Summary: Rafe may be out doing business, but he is never too busy for Y/N.
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Everyone in the Outer Banks knows about Rafe’s explosive personality, especially towards the Pogues. The only person who is never at the wrong end of his anger is Y/N. He would never dare risk losing her by unleashing his anger on her. At the moment, she is safely at home, resting with their darling baby girl growing inside of her stomach. He is finishing up collecting the money from people who owe him from his drug dealer days. When he started dating Y/N, he stopped dealing less often; however, with a baby on the way, Rafe is ready to hang up the towel completely. Therefore, it is time for him to gather all the debts obligated to him. He finally tracks down the last person, Tanner Barrois. The Pogue is hiding out at a friend’s house but for enough money, anyone can betray their friend. Rafe bangs on the door as loud as he can and steps away from it. “What the fuck do you wan-” Tanner complains as he opens the door. Rafe gives him a wicked grin, “I want my fucking money, Asshole.” Tanner backs up into the house with his hands in the air. “I don’t have your money, but I can get it to you. I-I just need a few weeks,” he offers. Rafe shakes his head, “No, I already gave you three months. So where is my money?”
“I don’t have it!” 
Rafe grips the front of Tanner’s shirt and slams him against the wall. His arm cocks, rushing towards Tanner’s nose at a fast pace. The room is silent, except for the sounds of Rafe’s fist hitting Tanner, until “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran begins to play out of nowhere. Something vibrating accompanies the song. Rafe keeps Tanner against the wall with one hand, while his other hand goes into his pocket for his phone. He brings it to his ear with a soft smile, “Hi, Dumpling. How are you and little dumpling doing?” “I’m hungry, Rafey,” the pregnant woman whines with her hands on her perturbing stomach. He chuckles, “And what can I pick up for you on my way home, Dumpling?” “I want Trader Joe’s French Vanilla ice cream, soya sauce, pickles and mayo please,” she pleads into the phone. He grimaces, “Please, tell me you aren’t going to eat all of those together.” “I don’t know yet. I guess you’ll have to find out when you get here,” she teases, knowing he gets grossed out by her weird pregnancy cravings. He sighs, “I guess I will. I’ll get those for you once I’m finished with my business. Okay? I love you.” “Thank you. I love you too. Bye,” she hangs up without another word. 
The phone gets slipped back into his pocket and his attention returns to Tanner. “Now, where were we?” He punches Tanner again, shaking his hand out to try to rid himself of the blood. “I’m going to ask you again. Where is my money?” Rafe growls. Tanner whimpers, “I can get it to you by next week.” Tanner receives another blow to the head. “Not the answer I was looking for. So let’s try this once more,” Rafe warns, but he is again interrupted by the chime of his phone. “Is everything okay, Dumpling?” he worries into the speaker.
“It needs to be the tiny pickles. I don’t want the large ones. I don’t want the zig-zag cut ones or the straight-cut ones. I want the tiny ones. Okay?”
“Yes, I know, Dumpling. I promise they will be the tiniest ones I can find.” 
“Good, thank you. I love you.”
“I love you too, Dumpling. Goodbye.”
Tanner’s face is in a bloody smirk. “What the fuck are you smiling at?” Rafe questions, digging his forearm into the Pogue's neck. Tanner gasps out, “You are so whipped for her.” Rafe’s eyebrows cave in and he strikes Tanner’s stomach. “Be careful what you say next, Motherfucker,” Rafe alerts. Tanner appears to have a death wish as he says the next sentence, “That bitch has your balls in a death grip and it’s pathetic.” His phone rings once more before he can reply. “Dumpling, you are really making me concerned about you,” he sighs into the phone. She pouts, “I’m sorry. I just wanted something to drink too.” “It’s okay, Dumpling. I want you to stay hydrated. So what can I get you?” he inquires. “Iced tea, please. And I promise this will be the last time I’m going to call. I’m going to take a nap while I wait for you to come home.”
“Iced tea, coming right up. Enjoy your nap, Dumpling. I’ll see you when I get home. I love you.”
“I love you so much, Rafey. Thank you. I can’t wait for you to come home. Muah.”
The line goes dead and he can’t help but put his phone away with a massive grin on his face. He weakens his hold on Tanner, “You better be thanking the lord that I am whipped for my girl because it is the only reason I am giving you another day to get the money. Don’t try to run because I will find you and your punishment will be so much worse than you can imagine. Now, if you would excuse me, I have to go to Trader’s Joe.”
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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starkeyisthelastname · 3 months
Note
When stepdad rafe hears reader talking about how she wants to loose her virginity
He had over heard you on the phone, giggling away with one of your girlfriends. As delicate and innocent as you were, your voice still carried and that’s when he had found out about you wanting to lose your virginity. The thought of some random boy’s limp dick inside you, made him seethe in anger. It had to be him who popped your perfect little cherry.
You were sitting on your pretty pink bed, surrounded by an enormous amount of fluffy pillows and stuffed animals. Glittery pen in hand, you wrote something down in your journal, while humming to whatever pop song played. Rafe knocked on the already open door, watching those big eyes light up at the sight of him. You slammed the journal closed, shoving it aside.
“Hi, Rafey!” You said, swinging your bare legs off the bed.
It was comical to him that you were still a virgin, especially the way you ran around the house. Shorts that barely covered your rather thick ass, and flimsy tank-tops that your perky tits nearly fell out of. He was curious now to what you were hiding in that diary of yours, making him walk further into the girly room.
“Whatcha doing?” He asked, casually as he made his way over to the bed. “Writing down all your dirty little secrets.” He grinned. He could tell you were nervous by the way you quickly avoided his gaze, looking down at the fury white rug.
“No.. I don’t have any dirty secrets.” You told him, voice small as you swung your legs back and forth.
“Yeah? So you wouldn’t mind me reading your diary. We are family after all and shouldn’t hide secrets.” He said as a matter of factly, reaching down to pick up the journal. You tried to grab it from him, but failed due to his height.
Opening the last page you written in, Rafe read the neat writing, his confirmation of what he had heard earlier coming true. “Today, I talked to my best friend about wanting to lose my virginity. I want to have sex so so bad…” He didn’t even need to continue on, seeing your cheeks turning pink.
“Please don’t tell my mom.” You pleaded to him, knowing that she wanted to keep you pure despite the fact that you were 19.
Rafe chuckled, throwing the diary back onto the bed. “Relax, kid. What’s got you so nervous?” He asked. “You need dick that bad, huh?”
The way you looked up at him, eyes so innocent and lips so kissable, nodding your head, had him growing hard in his pants. It took everything in him not to shove you down on your knees and fuck your little virgin throat. He'd save that for another time though, right now he was determined to ruin your tight cunt.
“See, when you lose your virginity, you want it to be with someone special. Someone you can trust. Not one of your little boyfriends.” He told you.
You looked at him confused, with a little curiosity behind those eyes. “Someone like you Rafey?” Your tone of questioning as you bit your lower lip out of habit. His ocean eyes gleamed in excitement, the heat running straight to his cock.
His eyes nearly rolled back at the sight in front of him. His pure little beauty of a step- daughter, completely naked before him. You were still reluctant that this was wrong, even after his fingers had loosened you up a bit and tongue had been on your sweet folds. Now with his cock in hand, lining it up with your plump pussy he watched your face twitch as he pushed in.
“No.. it hurts.” You mumbled, pushing at his now bare chest as the stretch to your untouched hole was burning.
“You are fine, kid. Never had 9 inches up your princess cunt, I know it.” Rafe’s voice cracked as he tried not to ram himself inside the tightest cunt he ever had the pleasure of being in. His thumb found your clit, rubbing it slow circles to distract you from the pain. Poor thing.
Your whimpers turned into the prettiest moans sooner than later as he began speeding up. Eyes heavy, and abs flexing as he thrusted into you. He was Rafe Cameron and he got everything he wanted, including taking his step-daughter’s virginity.
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rodolfoparras · 7 months
Note
think about price who constantly refers to his lover as 'the wife' with lovesick eyes to 141
now imagine 141 loosing their SHIT on the inside when they first meet 'the wife' and she isn't some petite pretty little housewife like they imagined but instead a large ass man built like a fucking TANK and easily towers over Simon who is the tallest of the group. price still refers to him as 'the wife' with the dorkiest grin ever and 141 doesnt let him live it down, threatening him with telling 'the wife' whenever he doesnt let them do something stupid
(feral anon)
(i want to be 'the wife' so bad but sadly i am a short transmasc that doesn't look like a man at all)
(your posts cure my gender disphoria)
A/N: I loved this idea and I’ve been wanting to write a fluff piece for my old man so here u go, something very light hearted ! Excuse any mistakes I wrote it within an hour or so!
It’s no secret that Price likes to keep his private life and work life separated, not many people know he’s married and he likes to keep it that way.
However he has no qualms about 141 finding out about the person he loves so much, matter of fact Laswell was the first to know, all unplanned of course.
It all happened when the two of them snuck away from the rowdy group of men to smoke. Sitting inside would’ve been a better option. It was warm inside, they had decent lighting and were within hand’s distant to their drinks but that would also mean they were at risk of losing their hearing or getting elbowed in the stomach or face by the drunken men, so outside it is.
Price offers her his cigar, which she takes gracefully muttering something along the lines of “my wife doesn’t like it when I smoke” while taking a drag from the tobacco leaf.
“Neither does mine” he says with crows feet appearing around his eyes and lips curling up into a smile.
“You’re married?” Laswell says, only with a hint of surprise on her face as she hands the cigar back to him.
“Happily” he says smile still present as ever on his face before he takes a drag from the cigar as well “been that way for four years now”
She just nods in response before she takes the cigar back, and that’s pretty much how Laswell finds out about Price’s spouse.
The next person to find out about it is Gaz.
141 had been out on a mission that day, and Gaz had taken the impulsive decision to head straight into the fire in hopes of getting important intel. He’s managed to get it but not without getting scolded for his reckless behavior by Price. Hours later and the guilt is still eating at him so he decides to make his way over to Price’s office in an attempt to make amends with the older man.
Gaz takes a deep breath before he knocks on Price’s office door.
“Come on in” he hears the older man’s voice.
Gaz walks in only to be met with the sight of Price seated in his office chair, paper work scattered about on his desk and a cigar resting between his index and middle finger.
“Sir” Gaz says, awkwardly shuffling in place. “I’d like to apologize for earlier today”
“Already forgotten”
The surprise must’ve been clear on his face because the older man can’t help but chuckle.
“Sit down” Price says pointing at the chair opposite to him before taking another drag from the tobacco leaf.
Gaz swiftly takes a seat, hands resting on his knees, nervously chewing on his bottom lip.
There’s a moment of silence as Price rearranges the paper in a neat pile on his desk, pen carefully placed next to it before he speaks again.
“You got someone special waiting for you back home?”
Once again Gaz is surprised but this time the older man just looks at him and smiles.
“I do, sir”
“So do I” Price says smile getting bigger as he folds his arms across his chest and leans back in his chair. “Oh don’t look at me like that I’m not that old am I?”
“No - no sir” Gaz says, hands awkwardly flailing about and feeling his ears burn as he blurts out the words.
Price’s smile grows even bigger before he begins to explain “point is I’m sure that special someone wants you back home alive, if anything were to happen to me I’m sure the wife would find a way to haunt me in the after life”
Price’s gaze falls to his hands, fingers fidgeting with his wedding band.
Oh.
The wife.
The ring.
The captain is married.
“Sometimes we have to do things we rather not do to make sure we come back home to them, keep that in mind Garrick”
“Yes sir” Gaz says, mind still processing this new found information.
“Good, now if you excuse me I have someone to call,”
Gaz without thinking says “the wife?”
Price only chuckles but nods his head in confirmation “the wife”
Soap is the third person to find out and it happens while 141 are relaxing on base, playing cards and drinking beer.
Price walks in with black slacks and a white button, rolled all the way up to his elbows. On top of that there’s an invisible trail of cologne that seems to follow his form.
“Captain! Come join us” soap says not even looking up at the man but instead keeping laser focus on the cards in his hand.
“No can do boys I’m heading out with the wife”
Soap almost drops the cards in his hand, head turning so fast Price is surprised he doesn’t get whiplash. “You’re married?”
“I am” Price says trying to suppress his chuckle when he sees Gaz peaking at Soap’s cards. “You weren’t planning on proposing were you soldier?” Price jokes which sends the rest of the group into a fit of laughter.
Soap physically recoils at that, head turning back to his cards and muttering a “to you captain? No thanks”
“Alright then, I’m heading out” Price says, choosing to ignore soaps comments, as he pulls on his jacket“don’t wait up!”
As Price makes his way over to the front door, he hears the group continuing to tease soap, can even hear the Scotsman accuse Gaz of looking at his cards, but he quickly forgets about everything as he sees you parked outside and waiting for him.
Ghost was very well aware of Price’s spouse, had even been the first person to know that Price was planning to propose.
The two of them had been in an entirely different squad, and less familiar with each other when they got sent out on a mission. A lot of things went wrong that day so much so Ghost and Price weren’t sure if the both of them would get back home alive. So Price had taken the opportunity to tell him about this special someone, how he was planning to propose to this person when they were scheduled to go back home, had even forced a wedding band in the palm of Ghost’s hand and told him to give it to the person if Price doesn’t make it out alive.
Luckily the both of them had managed to get out alive and Ghost had gotten the opportunity to watch Price put the ring on this person’s hand.
With that being said Ghost should be able to recognize this person if they were to appear in front of him but it’s been years so when he hears someone asking where Price is he doesn’t think twice about telling them, chalking it up to some poor lost recruit looking for the captain, while keeping his eyes on the weapon he’s cleaning.
However he doesn’t get to do much more before he hears another voice.
“Who’s the guy?” says soap, confusion clear in his tone.
Ghost turns to the other man and the annoyance must’ve been clear in his eyes because Soap raises his hands in an apologetic manner. “Oh sorry did i interrupt something important “ he says with a smile on his face.
“Anyway a tall really tall dude maybe taller than the ghost?” He pauses as if contemplating before he continues to explain “was looking for Price, really buff too…” he trails off while glancing down at his arms “hey you think I should work out more?”
Ghost just sighs before he returns to cleaning his weapon but he’s once again interrupted when Gaz walks in.
“Captain wants to see us in his office”
And that’s when he fully gives up on the task as he follows the two other men over to Price’s office, grumbling over why the captain was calling them over while putting up with the chatter from the Scotsman telling Gaz all about the giant that just passed him.
It doesn’t take much before they find themselves in front of Price’s office.
Through the door they can hear Price’s voice along with a much deeper voice, holding a conversation.
Soap is the first to knock on the door, while sharing confused glances with the two other men.
“Come in”
The three men enter the room only to be met with the sight of Price standing behind his office chair where a man is sitting in it, both of them sporting equally bright smiles on their faces.
“Boys” Price says, face ever so proud as he looks down at the man “meet the wife”
The man stands up, tall just like Soap had described him and when he reaches a hand out they see a wedding band that matches the one on Price’s hand.
“I’m the wife” you say with a big smile on your face.
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chuluoyi · 15 days
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only if you are up for a challenge. Naoya Zenin x f!reader in which he got her pregnant, then she left out of fear and he found her again and won't let her go :)))
when you loved me
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- zen'in naoya x reader
you loved him... but you have had enough of the shit you've experienced—his arrogance, horrible family and another woman—and decided to leave him for the sake of yourself and your child
genre: angst to comfort, implied cheating, most likely ooc, honestly i almost made it a vs naoya fic with no consolation, happy ending aka naoya is decent
note: this ask... has been collecting dust in my askbox for about SIX MONTHS HAHAH, so sorry anon. i'll just leave it here and let it burn however just bc i don’t want to delete what i’ve written :’)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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"How... how could you?"
Once, you thought, you were in love with Zen'in Naoya.
Well, you couldn't deny that he had personality flaws, but deep down, at one point in your life, you still believed that he too loved you.
You stared at him through tears brimming in your eyes, and he was just there, looking at the little being in your arms with a mix of shock and... something else you couldn't name. Dismay? Disappointment? Black rage?
"Go away, Naoya," you declared through your gritted teeth, pulling the baby in your arms even closer to you, as though fearing he might do something drastic. No way in hell would you let him after what he made you go through.
His eyes twitched as he tried to hold himself back from losing it. He took a few deep breathes in order to stay composed.
“Y/N, answer me,” he growled, still with the same condescending tone you remembered nine months ago, when you resolutely decided to leave him. “Is that baby mine?”
This was absolute madness. You had driven him insane. Naoya was certain he would go feral on you after you boldly left him without a trace, and when he found you, you were cradling this baby in your arms—which he was absolutely sure, enough to bet on his life, that the little thing was also his.
The woman he loves has given birth to his child.
You had imagined all sort of scenarios in which this very event would occur. This was one of them actually.
“No,” you firmly replied, gaze hardening. “Not yours. So kindly let yourself out of my house, Naoya.”
“Absolute bullshit!” he shouted and you flinched. His sudden rise of voice also woke the poor baby in your arms.
His heart hammered inside his chest. There were many things that made a mess of his head. You running away from him. The nights of madness he went through, wondering where you were and if you were alright. And now, the fact you had his baby without him ever knowing.
“Where were you? Why did you leave— you were having my—”
Fuck, he didn’t even know if he had a son or daughter.
You tried to console your child, now tears also streaming down your cheeks too. But it was more of frustration and anger rather than fear. “Can you blame me? Zen’in Naoya, you have made my life hell!”
“Hell?” It felt like an total insult to his pride. “How—!”
“You!” you screamed at his face. “I’ve had enough of your shit! And not to mention your father—that horrible drunkard who always looks down on me and treats me as if I were some gold digger! And also the whole of your goddamn, entitled clan—they always harass me right in front of my face!”
All of this stunned him on this place. Truth to be told, he knew a little to nothing at all about what his kin had done to you.
“I don’t need your family’s wealth! I can live on my own just fine even with your bastard!” Your tirade still hadn’t ended, but you had to put your baby on her cot first and dismiss her ever growing cries because you were tired of all of this. This life. This absolute nightmare that was caused by one fatal mistake of falling in love with Zen’in Naoya.
“But what the fuck? You’re asking why I left? How dare you ask me that after what you did!”
“What did I even do?!” His denial made a blood vessel about to burst inside your brain. “You never fucking told me what my father did! If only you did, I would have—”
“Look, you don’t even acknowledge it!” You were so tired of this. You wished you could die and just end all of this mental suffering. Why did this have to happen to you out of a billion people out there?
And yet, still, ultimately, you were happy with him. Those memories of the two of you together, just idyllically spending time together, or sometimes even playfully clashing opinions— to you, they were irreplaceable.
So, that's why...
Your heart shattered at the screeching cries of your baby. But you had to slam this in Naoya’s face.
“That was the last straw—seeing you with that fucking woman, you insufferable, demented, cheating bastard!”
That string of profanities you screamed at his face made Naoya finally lost it, as he gripped you tightly and his eyes flared with pure white-hot anger. “Say that again—say that again, you—!”
A toe-curling scream ripped out of your baby and you wrenched yourself out of his grasp through sheer will. Naoya was left reeling as he watched your horrified expression, as you plucked the baby into your arms again.
“Shh, shh,” you shushed your child amidst your own quivering lips. “Mama is here… Don’t cry…”
Right at that moment, it was as if something had pierced his chest and left a gaping hole. He really had a living baby. That baby was crying because of him.
The sting of the anger was still there, but now guilt started to overpower it as he regained his cool somewhat. “Is that a—” his breath hitched. He had to know. At the very, very least he had to know.
You didn’t immediately answer. You were still absolutely heartbroken by how it all turned out. But above all else, you could no longer deny him of his own child.
“A girl,” you sniffled.
A daughter. A daughter— in the one split second after knowing that, Naoya made the quickest decision of his life.
“Come back. Live with me,” he said, resolute. “You’re the mother of my child—I won’t let anyone lay their hand on you again. You have my word.”
Women are pain in the ass. That was what he used to think. Until you. Not when it's you. It astounded even himself how the sight of you like this was enough to drive knives into his chest.
“Look, that’s not it,” your tears were now falling free and fast, unable to hold it back longer. “How can you ask me that—when you went behind my back with another woman? Naoya, I love you—loved you. But isn’t this too cruel? How can you do this to me?”
“What woman are you talking about?” He tried to compose himself, but your accusation of him with someone whose existence he didn’t even know was getting in his nerves. “I have never been unfaithful to you! I know we don't always agree to things, but do you really think that low of me?”
“Evidently, I saw you with her. Your father made it a point that she’s your next plaything—or possibly even, fiancée!”
There was a memory that sprung into his head when you mentioned that. He recalled that vain, stupid woman, and he definitely remembered telling his father that he refused her. It wasn’t long before you disappeared.
Now everything clicked.
“Listen to me,” Naoya started, jaw clenching. “Whatever my father told you—those are all lies. I turned her down right there and then. I wouldn’t do that to you. You know that. You should have known that.”
Sobs wrecked your body and soul at this point. You knew where your place was. Zen’in Naoya was a man outside your league, his family made it so clear to you that you were nothing but dirt in their eyes. And perhaps that was why, back then, you chose to protect yourself and left him, believing he was capable of that too.
And now before you, you could see the man you loved once again.
“Come back to me.” His gaze burned you. “This time, for sure, I won’t let anyone touch you— I won’t let them even say a word about you! I will marry you, and we will raise our daughter together.”
“I… I don’t want to live there, Naoya…” you sobbed. You hated that place. Like hell would you have your pride stomped and deceived again.
“Alright, if that’s what you want. We won’t live there. You won’t have to see any of their faces again.”
Gazing into your face, marked by trails of tears, he finally, finally felt his heart break. And he thought, that in front of him now was the only woman who could upturn his whole trajectory.
“Just… come back. To me. I will take care of you. I swear it.”
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 months
Text
Implode (Azriel X Female! Reader)
Summary: You were an anomaly. 300 years ago you fell from the sky, a star personified, taking the form of a High Fae. When Rhysand found you and realized your power you became a part of his inner circle. It wasn’t until years later that you realized that his spymaster was your mate. Still the question lingered in your mind leaving you never fully satisfied, “Why am I here?” Perhaps the losing battle with Hybern would answer that. 
A/N: Just thought I would take some time and get some Azriel on the masterlist! And hey look I wrote something where they don’t suck and fuck. But don’t get used to it, as a scorpio it ain’t really my style.
Warnings: Heavy angst, alludes to smut (you knew there was gonna be a lil somethin it’s Azriel for christ sake), blood, I wrote this in the middle of the night so probably grammar mistakes
Words count: 4646
(All pictures are from pinterest) 
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The war with Hybern was an ongoing one, and one that’s been hundreds of years in the making. So far the Night Court had yet to engage but I could feel Rhysand growing restless. Velaris was safe, but for how much longer? A few months ago he talked about taking the fight to Hybern, sooner rather than later, in order to try and protect his civilians. As his third in command I agreed with him.
I became Rhysand’s third in command several years ago after finally earning his trust. I wasn’t always part of his beloved inner circle, in fact when I fell from the sky I spent the first month on Prythian in the Hewn City dungeons. Rhys wanted to know why I had fallen into his court, but the truth was I didn’t know. The only memory I had was an image of the night sky, followed by falling, and then Azriel found me in the grass. Of course this wasn’t a good enough answer for the High Lord but after Rhysand finally realized that I was telling the truth about where I was from. We spent the next several years trying to figure out how it could be but found nothing. 
Nevertheless I grew to love Velaris and the place I now called home. I loved late night drinks with Mor, decorating the townhouse with Cassian for Solstice, talking politics with Rhysand, teasing the others with Amren, but most of all I loved Azriel. 
Even though Azriel was the one who found me, the bond didn’t snap into place right away. I had always had an affinity for the Illyrian, and even though I was once a non-sentient being, I knew that by all standards he was gorgeous. He seemed to have the same attraction to me as well, though we never acted on it. It wasn’t until a drunken night at Rita’s about 100 years after he found me that we realized we were mates. 
The inner circle had gotten together for dinner, and dinner had turned into a couple bottles of wine and a couple turned into way too many. Azriel and I had been throwing flirty glances back and forth all night, finally having the liquid courage to do so. I ended up being the first to leave that night and of course Azriel offered to fly me home…
“There is no way you’re walking home, not in those shoes,” Azriel laughed. 
“What’s the matter with my shoes?” I protest swigging the last sip of my wine. 
“You’re gonna bust your ass starchild,” Cassian said using my nickname he gave me years ago. 
“I most certainly am not!” I slur. I go to stand up from the booth to prove my point and nearly topple over causing the table to shift and Mor to spill some of her wine. The whole group erupted in laughter. 
“Come on y/n, I’ll fly you home,” Azriel chuckled, rising from the booth. 
I braced myself on his shoulder to slip the stilettos off my feet so I could hold them in my hands. The second my bare feet hit the ground I was reminded by how much larger he was than me, and in my wine drunk state my stomach bottomed out in arousal. I waved goodbye to everyone as Az led me out of the small club. 
“Tonight was fun,” I smiled drunkenly, my feet touching the cold wet cobblestones just outside Rita’s. I started to wobble a bit when Azriel grabbed me by my waist and hauled me up. All I could do was look into his golden eyes as I felt his hand spread across the bare skin there from my backless dress. 
I didn’t think twice before grabbing him by the collar and pulling him in for a kiss. The second I did it I realized what I had done, and I would’ve panicked if it had not been for the moan that fell from his lips as I pulled back. His other hand hit my waist pulling me closer to him making me stand on my tip toes. I felt my back hit the wall outside Rita’s as he deepened the kiss. 
“God I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groans, grip tightening on my waist. 
“Then what’s keeping you from doing it again, Shadowsinger?” I smirk. 
“Not a damn thing,” he smiled, connecting our lips again. 
I was a mess of pure lust, because just like him, I had been dying to do this for years. Even dreaming about it on several occasions. But to have it happening was the most intense feeling I had ever known. My head was so clouded with need that I barely felt his mouth leave mine to kiss my neck. I tangled my hands in his hair pulling him closer and he reached his hands under my legs and picked me up so I wouldn’t have to strain to meet him. 
He kissed a spot on my neck that was particularly sensitive, coaxing a moan from my mouth that drove him so wild he bit me. That was the moment we felt it. That mating bond snapping into place. He whipped his head back to meet my eyes, looking to see if I had felt it too. 
“Oh my gods,” I breathed. 
“We’re mates,” he stated though his own ragged breaths. 
“Yes, mates,” I choked out, my brain still too cloudy to say anything as I searched his face for a sign of dread. Maybe he didn’t want to be mated, to me.
A smile broke his lips as he pressed his forehead to mine, “We’re mates,” he said again like he was trying to assure himself it was true. 
“We are,” I giggled, happy to see that he was okay with this, that he wanted it as much as I did. 
“You’re my mate,” he smiled, brushing stray hair from my face.
“Your mate,” I laughed joyously, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. I heard the door to Rita’s swing open. 
“I knew it!” Mor screamed drunkenly. “I knew they were secretly dating, Cassian, you owe me 50 gold!” 
“Not dating, mates.” Azriel barked proudly. 
“Ha! Mor you owe me 100 gold now!” Rhysand laughed at Mor. 
“That’s too bad Az I was hoping y/n could give me a ride later,” Cassian taunted earning a possessive growl from Azriel. The whole group laughed.
Needless to say Azriel flew me to the cabin in the Illyrian mountains that night and we didn’t leave for two weeks straight. 
…that was years ago and since then our family has had new additions like Rhysand’s mate Feyre and her sisters. One thing hadn’t changed though, me and Azriel’s mated bliss. 
I was waiting in the townhouse living room with the entire inner circle to talk about war plans. Well, most of the inner circle, Cassian and Azriel had taken a trip to inform the Illyrians that war was indeed coming and had been gone for a week. 
“Thanks again for the wine, Rhys!” I smile, holding up my glass and clinking it to Mor’s. 
“I don’t think you’re supposed to thank the person you stole the wine from,” he rolls his eyes. 
“Maybe not, but it makes me feel less guilty about it,” I laugh while taking another swig. I sit and observe Rhys watching Feyre’s every movement, feeling warm and fuzzy from seeing him so happy. 
Almost as if in response a shadow brushes down my cheek and I see Rhysand’s eyes flit up behind me with a smirk. I turn in my chair to find Azriel leaning in the doorway. 
“Az!” I yell, jumping up and thrusting my wine glass into Mor’s hand. He gives me a knowing smile as I jump into his arms. 
“I missed you too, my little star,” he smiled holding me close.
Cassian walked in just moments after and we joined the others in the living room. The second we were seated, and Rhysand stood to address us, it was like all the joy was sucked out of the room. We all knew how serious the topic was, and how even though we had spent many months avoiding it, it had finally come to call. 
“I’ve heard reports that Hybern’s army is gathering, and it’s bigger than we expected,” Rhys stated. 
“How much bigger?” Amren inquired. 
“We once believed his army to be 70,000 men, now we know that it's over 100,000.” he replied grimly. My heart sank at his words.
“Well what did Devlon say?” I ask Azriel. 
“He said that the Illyrians would fight, but if Hybern has an army of over 100,000 it’s still cutting it close.” Az replied. 
“How close are they to being fully assembled?” Cassian asks. 
A beat of silence passes and Rhys looks to Feyre, “By the end of this week they will be on Prythian soil, maybe next week if we are lucky.” he divulges. 
“What if we called upon Bryaxis? The Bone Carver? The Attor? They might come to our aid.”  Feyre pointed out and I didn’t miss the wince from Cassian at the mention of Bryaxis. 
“That could help,” Rhysand nodded. “But there’s no telling what they’ll do once the battle starts.” 
“But it’s worth a shot is it not?” Mor urged. 
“We can look into it,” Rhysand nodded once more. 
The rest of the night was filled with more talk of strategy and thinking of potential allies to call upon, but in the end Feyre’s suggestion was the best one. We all left the townhouse feeling more somber that night, something that rarely happened when we were all gathered together. Azriel flew us home and neither of us said anything.  I thought about what Rhys had said, and how we were resorting to calling upon monsters to come to our aid.  It wasn’t until after Azriel showered that he finally spoke up.
“You have no idea how good it feels to be home,” he groaned, flopping on the bed. I had slipped into one of my nightgowns and was sitting under the covers reading my book. 
“I’m glad you’re home,” I smiled, running a hand through his wet hair. He plucked my bookmark for where it was beside me and placed it in my open book. A habit that he picked up years ago when he grabbed my book from out of my hand in exchange for  a kiss and didn’t bookmark where I was. I had never been so furious with the man.
“Come here you,” he said, tossing my book to the side and pulling me into his chest. I giggled as he wrapped his arms around me, and breathed in. “You smell so good,” he practically  groans. 
“You mean I don’t smell like a sweaty Illyrian?” I chuckle, pressing a kiss to his bare chest. 
“Yes, precisely,” he laughs, looking down at me with love and adoration. “Have I ever told you that you get kind of glowy at night? Like you literally have a faint glow about you.” 
“Well I am a star,” I smile, pulling my hand out of the cocoon he has me in to let some starlight dance off my fingers. 
“How could I ever forget,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my brow. 
A moment of silence passes and I can’t help but think about the war again, this time I don’t keep quiet about my fears. 
“What do you think we’re going to do about Hybern?” I whisper. 
 “I don’t know,” he admits. “All we can do is hope that our allies come.” 
“But even then, will it be enough?” I ask. 
“It might be, but there’s no telling.” he states honestly. 
“Could this really be the end of everything? Everything we’ve ever known will be ripped away from us. Velaris, our family, the two of us.” I confess. 
“Hey,” he coos, taking my face in his hands, “Don’t think like that. We’re going to figure this out. I won’t let anything hurt you.” 
“And who’s going to take care of you?” I ask, tears brimming my eyes. 
“Rhys and Cassian,” he says. I know he feels my fear too, that he’s trying to put on a brave face for his mate. But the fact of the matter is that this is war, and not everyone is coming home. Part of me wants to interrogate further, but I know no matter how many times I ask or rephrase the question, I’m going to get the same answer. Because at the end of the day, neither of us knows what is going to happen. 
So I just burrow my head into his chest and say, “Don’t you dare leave me Az.” 
"Never mate, never."
That night I dream of clashing swords and soaring Illyrians. I hear war cries and screams of agony. I see blood and mud and bodies skewed across a battlefield. I smell death and decay and burnt flesh. I feel dread and despair. But then there is a blinding light, and there is peace and I hear nothing at all.
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I wake the next morning from my dream and slip of out Azriel’s grasp, thankful that he was so tired from the trip from Windhaven that he doesn’t even stir. I get dressed and make my way to Rhysand’s town house. It had taken me all morning to realize what I had been shown in my dream, what it meant. I could only hope that my High Lord would understand it as I did. 
I reach his office door and hesitate to knock. I don’t know why, I’ve known the man for hundreds of years. Eventually I do. 
“Come in,” Rhysand beckons. 
I step in and immediately wish I had kept my mental shields up, I feel Rhys probe my  mind and catch a small glimpse of my thoughts. Before he can speak I cut in first. 
“We need to talk to Rhys,” I say curtly. 
“No y/n we aren’t having this conversation,” he dismisses me turning back to his papers.
“Rhys, I can end this war,” I argue. 
“I won’t let you, not in the way you are thinking right now,” he bristles.
“Rhys, listen to me! I can take out the king and half of his army before he even lands a blow on you guys!” I inform him. 
“How?” he stops and asks in a demeaning fashion. 
I take a deep breath and take a step closer to him. “What do stars do when they die Rhys?” I say slowly. 
A deafening silence fills the room, and I see his violet eyes fill with an understanding and realization. 
“They explode,” he states. 
“And they take Hybern and half of his army with them,” I reiterate, bracing my arms against his desk. 
“You would die though,” he states in a way that’s more like a question. 
“Yes I would die,” I confirm. 
“You would do that to Azriel?” he asks, not believing what I was saying. 
“No, but I would do it for him,” I say earnestly. 
“Absolutely not, I won’t let Azriel lose his mate.” he says and it sounds more like an order. 
I don’t flinch. I knew Rhysand would say this so I continue with my already prepared speech. “You’ll change your mind. When you realize you have more to lose than you originally thought. When you realize that your mate’s life hangs in the balance. That all you’ve gained lies in the balance. You’ll change your mind, and I’ll be ready when you do.” 
“So I’m supposed to sacrifice you to save myself? Sacrifice Azriel’s mate to save my own?” he argues.
“You’re not sacrificing me. I’m choosing this. Choosing to give Azriel a chance to live. A chance at life�� My final gift, to him, to all of you.” I start. “My whole life, it has never made sense as to why I’m here. Why a star fell from the sky and just happened to find Azriel. But now it does, this was the reason.” I explain. 
There’s another silence in the room as Rhysand takes in all that I’ve said. My explanation for being here. Because I was right, it never did make sense that I would be a star personified. Yet here I was. 
“You shouldn’t have to do this,” he says sadly, seemingly accepting that this might be the only chance he has to save Prythian. 
“This is war Rhys, not a fairytale. Sacrifices must be made, for the greater good.” I say firmly. 
“How are we supposed to tell Azriel this plan?” he asks, running a hand through his hair, stress evident on his face. 
I know that everything I’ve told Rhys up until this point has angered and hurt him, but I have one last bandage to rip off, “We’re not going to tell him,” I deadpan. 
“Y/n you know-” 
“That he won’t let me do this?” I cut him off. “Yes I do. That’s why we can’t tell him. I’ve made my choice, telling him won’t change anything. But it will taint the time we have left together. Let us have this last little bit of time and then I will end this war so that you can have more.” I plead.
Rhys doesn’t say anything as he once again takes in my words. But I see the acceptance in his demeanor as he stands up and walks around his desk. He doesn’t speak, he just pulls me into his arms and hugs me. I throw my arms around him as a tear falls from my face. 
“You are the bravest person I’ve ever known. I can never repay you for your sacrifice, all I can do is promise you that you will forever be honored and remembered in this court,” he says and I can feel him crying. 
“But there is something you can do,” I say. 
“What? I’ll do anything.” he backs away to look me in the eye. 
“Don’t let my sacrifice go to waste. Make sure that Azriel lives when all this is said and done.” I beg him, a tear slipping from my eye. 
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The war comes quickly after that. or perhaps it just feels like it does because my life is suddenly on a timer. It isn't long until Hyberns forces gather on the shores of Prythian. We gather the Night Court's Army, the Illyrians and all the allies we can and march to meet them. 
The war camp is a mess of fires, blades and soldiers of every kind. I’m practically glued to Azriel’s side, not only because I’m trying to soak up every lasting moment with him, but because he said, and I quote, “I would rather die than leave my devastatingly beautiful mate alone in a campsite full of war bound men looking for one last lay before the battlefield.” 
The night before the battle Azriel made love to me in our tent, neither of us daring to say that it could be the last time we would ever get to lie with one another.  Only Rhysand and I knew about the plan. It was too risky to tell anyone else, and like I had explained to Rhys before, I didn't want Azriel and I’s last days together to be tainted with constant tears. If I was going to die, I wanted us to be us. 
That’s how we found ourselves here, at the front lines, our entire army behind us. Thankfully we were on top of a hill giving us somewhat of an upper hand. Bryaxis, The Bone Carver,  and The Attor had in fact come to our aid, giving them the upperhand to deal with those who went unaffected by my blast. As we looked out over Hybern’s army that was a little over 400 yards away I couldn’t help but to cower into Azriel’s side. I looked to see Feyre doing the same to Rhys behind us. He made eye contact with me, and as I heard Hybern’s army in the background I knew it was time. 
I stepped away from Azriel’s side and faced him. Took in every single curve of his face, and the way that his eyes caught the sun. I ran my hand down his cheek and he gave me a half smile. I prayed to whoever was listening, that I would remember his face. That wherever I went next I would have the ability to remember every moment I got to share with him in this world, and be grateful for what a gift it was. 
“Whatever happens out there today,” I start to say. “I want you to know that I love you. I know I’ve said it a million times, but I could’ve said it more, should have. And I want you to know that you were the greatest gift I’ve ever known, and that if this was all the time we had, I’m grateful for every moment of it. I was lucky enough to find you in this world, I promise to find you in every other one.” I tell him, a tear going down my face as I throw my arms around his neck. 
I can feel him smile into my shoulder as he says, “I love you too mate.”
I hold him tightly for the last time and open my eyes to find Rhys staring at me waiting for the signal. “Now,” I mouth to Rhys and he uses his magic to restrain Azriel. I slip one of Azriel’s daggers out his pocket, being sure to avoid Truth Teller, and I turn around and begin to walk down the hill towards Hybern’s Army. 
Rhys and I had spent plenty of time coming up with the plan. I had to arrive at the battlefield without weapons, just leathers. I had never used weapons before, having always relied solely on my magic. It would’ve raised suspicion if I had brought any. We made sure our army was far enough away that with the efforts of Rhysand’s wards and the distance, the blast wouldn’t impact our own forces. I walked down to the army alone, appearing as though I am coming as an emissary to speak to them, after all I was just a tiny female, what harm could I do? 
I walked with my chin held high, trying to appear as if I was a collected soldier coming to speak on behalf of my general. It was the hardest and longest walk of my life, as no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t drown out the screams of my mate behind me. 
“Y/N WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” Azriel screamed, his voice already horse. “RHYS LET ME GO SHE’S GOING DOWN THERE ALL BY HERSELF!” 
I shudder at his words and try to keep a stiff upper lip as I get closer to Hybern’s army. 
“HE’S GOING TO KILL HER, LET ME GO!” Azriel growled, a voice so deadly it could only belong to a male who’s mate was in danger. 
As I get even closer I see the King of Hybern emerge from the army readying himself to receive my message. 
“CASSIAN COMMAND THE ARMY TO OPEN FIRE!” Azriel pleads and I can hear him struggling against Rhys’ power. 
“Cassian hold our position!” Rhysand bellows. 
“Rhys what the fuck?!” Cassain shouts.  
“THAT’S AN ORDER GENERAL!” Rhysand screams, sounding more like a High Lord than ever before. 
I approach Hybern, dagger hidden behind me, lodged in my belt. 
“PLEASE THAT’S MY MATE!” 
I stand before the army. 
“Have you come to surrender little one?” The King of Hybern croons, earring a laugh from his surrounding Generals and Captains. 
“No, I’ve come to end you,” I muse.
I take a deep breath and pull the dagger from behind me and plunge it through my heart. The last thing I hear is Azriel’s scream before blinding white light erupts from me, and then I don’t feel anything at all.
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Azriel:
The battle is easily won but at what cost? After y/n put that dagger through her heart more than half of Hybern’s army was wiped off the face of the earth. The battle was bloody but short and in the aftermath I found myself searching the field for my little star, my mate. 
“Y/N!” I scream for her, voice torn. 
I scan my surroundings looking for any glimpse of her, but I don’t see her, and I don’t feel her anymore either. She’s not gone, she’s not gone, she’s not gone, I keep telling myself. 
“Y/N!” I scream again as I continue to look. 
I keep flying until I see her. She has about a three foot blast radius around her where not even the grass is still growing, and her small form is lying there, unmoving. I slam into the ground and run toward her. 
“No, no, no, no!” I curse as I fall to my knees before her. She’s covered in blood and mud from being trampled. 
I take her into my arms and she’s so cold. So small and so cold. 
“Baby please wake up,” I cry, brushing her hair out of her face. “Come on, you said you wouldn’t leave me!” 
I sense Rhys and Cassian landing behind me and I can hear Feyre’s sobs. 
“Please, please, please baby I can’t live without you,” I press my forehead to hers. 
I cry and I beg for what feels like hours, but she doesn’t wake up. I reach inside me to tug at the bond, my last ditch effort to bring her back, but when I reach inside myself there’s nothing there.
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At first there was nothing, just Azriel’s scream echoing in my brain and then there was silence. But now flickering in the distance I saw him, saw my mate, and I knew then and there that this was the cauldron’s last gift to me. 
“Azriel,” I sang into the void like subspace.
“Y/n?” he asked, unsure of what was happening. He was wearing his pants he always wore to bed, which meant I was seeing him in his dream. 
“Yes it’s me Az,” I smile, tears brimming my eyes. 
“I’m just dreaming right?” he asks again. 
“No,” I laugh walking over to him, grabbing him by his forearms. “It’s really me. I’m here somehow.” 
“Oh my gods, I’ve missed you so much,” he breaks, voice cracking as he hugs me tight. 
“How long has it been since the battle?” I ask. 
“A little over a week,” he says standing back so he can look at me. “Why y/n? Why did you do it?” 
I nearly broke at his words, “This was always the plan Az, we just didn’t know it till now.” I explain. 
“What do you mean?” he asks.
“I think the universe knew that I was supposed to save you. That’s why I fell from the sky, that’s why you found me. Why the cauldron made us mates.” I tell him, tears falling from my eyes as my hand wipes away his. 
“Why didn’t you tell me though?” he cries. 
“Would you have let me sacrifice myself if I did?” I ask. “I wanted my last few days with you to be as normal as they could be.” 
Silent tears fall from his eyes, “But what do I do without you?” 
“You live Azriel,” I smile. “You were the greatest joy I ever knew Az. I did this so you could live, with Cassian and Rhys. I told you I would find you in every world, you still have things to do in your world, but I’ll find you in this one too when your time comes.” 
“How do I live without you?” 
“You never will, I am a star after all.”
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