#trust issues!!! they don’t miss either

[wordsgood]

I’ve only read one Mike Chen book and the first 5 pages of his time travel novel but I have suuuuuch a big fondness for we could be heroes that opening up lightyears from home feels like coming back to an old favorite author after ages away. is this how having an actual favorite author feels??

[idksmtms]

For Anyone But Us (Criston Cole x Alicent's Daughter!reader)

A/N: Sorry Daeron, you didn’t exist here either 

Summary: You had grown up with Ser Criston as your protector, and almost a father figure. You didn’t know when exactly you began to crave him in carnal ways, in ways that had you blushing redder than a summer strawberry and running to hide away. But now you can handle it no longer. You must have him. 

Word count: 3,867

Trigger Warnings: she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, profanity, innuendo, age gap, oral f & m receiving, handjob, smut smut smut, self-hating, slightly manipulative reader (??), daddy issues, sexualising a father figure, era-typical negative view of sex, (please let me know if I missed any) 

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not claim to own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters. I do not own any pictures used nor do I claim to do so. 

Always appreciate comments, likes, and reblogs :)

You sat in your mother’s quarters, embroidery on your lap and a gentle melody humming from your lips. She was answering letters at her writing table while you reclined on her couch, enjoying the sudden breeze that had settled upon king’s landing and blew through her open windows. Occasionally you looked up to Ser Criston, standing stoic as ever by the door, and offered him a joyful little smile, one which he returned in his own muted way. 

Since you were born, you have been your mother’s constant companion. From her breast to her lap to her side, you have spent almost your entire life beside her. You are her youngest child, the apple of her eye by far, and the one that looks most like her. When you cried, she was the only one to comfort you, when you showed an interest in music, she had the best musicians come to foster your talent, when you said you wanted to learn history, she had as many books as would fit in your chambers brought from the library. You may be half Targaryen, but you will always be Alicent’s daughter. 

Due to being your mother’s constant companion, you soon became one for Ser Criston as well. Alicent trusted no guard more than Ser Criston and so he often had the task of being your carer. He has soothed your tears and washed your cuts when you’ve played too hard. He has tickled you until your laughs became shrieks and been the first to compliment every single one of your new dresses. You have grown up watching Ser Criston be your mother’s protector, be your protector. When you think of safety, you think of his face. So it makes sense that when you look upon his face as he watches out the window, a stoic set to his lips and brow, that your chest heats up and an errant throb pangs between your legs? 

You don’t really remember when you started feeling this way for him. You vividly remember one night, a feast for some celebration or other, and your mother had gifted you a new dress made of silk dyed in thin red water to make the prettiest baby pink. The maids had done your hair with intricate braids and curls that fell down your back but left your neck and chest exposed. You had rushed out of your room and found Ser Criston first, hopping in front of him to show off the dress. You had spun around in excitement, swishing the skirt of your dress back and forth and asking him what he thought. He had said you were the most beautiful girl in the world with a smile on his face and those dark eyes of his that never truly softened and kept a certain harsh quality to them. Your whole chest had turned red and your stomach had twisted in the most pleasurable way and you had wanted him to watch you for the rest of eternity. Even during the feast you had kept standing by him despite your siblings scolding you to mingle, pouting like a child if he turned his attention away from you for even a minute. 

Another memory, only a few years past, when Aegon had said something to upset you and you had come sobbing to your mother. After soothing your tears she had left you in her quarters under the watchful eye of Ser Criston to go and scold Aegon. You had sidled up to him, asking if whatever taunt Aegon had made was true. He had been quick to shush you, telling you that Aegon was a young man and he could still be stupid, that you needn’t take everything he said to heart. You had pressed yourself to his chest then, wrapping your arms around the armour on his midriff. He had gently rubbed your back for a few moments before clearing his throat and pulling away, guiding you back to the couch and bringing you whatever embroidery project you had left on the side table. But the feeling of his large hand on your back, his palm and fingers spanning so wide, his smell and even the look of his skin from so close had stuck inside your mind and body and you had tossed and turned that entire night to thoughts of him. 

You startled out of your thoughts of the man when your mother abruptly stood from her chair, tutting as she mumbled to herself about the time. You knew she was overdue to tea with Larys Strong so you smiled cheekily at her as she breezed past you, pressing a kiss to your head before heading to the door. 

“Ser Criston, stay here with Y/n, I shall take Ser Berrill with me to my meeting,” and she was out the door before Criston could nod his assent. 

You smiled then, looking to where Ser Criston stood and abandoning your embroidery to skip over to him. He smiled at you, bowing his head in greeting and you giggled. Criston didn’t know when that had become his favourite sound in the world but it was better than even the Septon bells on a wedding day. 

“I think I shall head back to my quarters Ser Criston, accompany me?” You asked, reaching to grab his arm and threading yours through his. Criston cleared his throat and nodded, his neck and cheeks going hot at the feeling of your body pressed so close to his side. It was inappropriate for a girl of your age and stature to be standing so close to him. But you had been doing this all your life, and despite the whispers that now began to pervade the keep about this behaviour, you refused to stop. (And of course Ser Criston was incapable of saying no to you). 

Criston opened the door and led the way out into the hallway, walking slow enough for you to keep pace with him. You were chattering on about something or other, he was too busy surveying your surroundings to fully pay attention, and the glimpse of your breasts that he caught every time he looked down to you was enough for him to keep his eyes away from your form completely. 

“...and that’s why Aemond has cemented his place as my favourite brother.” You giggled and he couldn’t help but look down to you again, smiling distractedly when he caught sight of the way your breasts curved under your emerald green gown, at the slight bumps of your nipples that he could see through the fabric. 

“He is a true prince of the realm and a great brother for you, Princess,” Criston answered, hoping it would be enough of an answer for you. You smiled and nodded and began on another story but stopped as you reached the doors to your chambers. You paused outside the door, opening and closing your mouth a few times. You chewed at the tip of the nail on your index finger and looked up at Criston with big doe eyes that had his entire body clenching up. 

“Ser Criston… would you come into my chambers with me? I don’t particularly feel like being alone right now.” You were twisting side to side at the waist lightly, hoping he would cave. 

“I do not think that is appropriate Princess,” he replied quietly, voice going low and gruff. 

“Please, Ser Criston? There is nothing wrong with my protector joining me in my chambers,” you argued, eyes going teary. 

“Princess…” he sighed, shaking his head. “We may know we are not doing anything scandalous but others will not know. I will not be responsible for anyone questioning your honour.” You sighed, almost admitting defeat, before looking up at him once more. 

“What if there is someone in there right now, waiting to destroy my honour? Then it would be irresponsible of you not to accompany me into my chambers,” you smiled triumphantly, before quickly pouting again when you remembered that cheekiness would not work in your favour. 

“Do not speak of such things Princess,” he replied sharply, swallowing aggressively at the thought of someone daring to come close to you with those intentions. 

“Then do not risk it Ser Criston and accompany me into my chambers,” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest. Criston sighed once more before nodding in acquiescence. He knew you would always win, it was only a matter of how long he was willing to fight against you. 

You smiled brightly and grabbed onto his arm, dragging him into the room with you and shutting the door firmly behind you, sliding the lock closed before Criston could even realise you had done it. 

You leaned back against the door and watched him stand in the middle of the room, looking around the entire room before deeming it safe for you. He turned back to you and saw the mischievous smile on your face before sighing once more. 

“The room is safe Princess, I must return to my guardpost now,” he said, but he knew it would be easier said than done leaving now that he was inside. You just shook your head, continuing to block the door. 

“But I don’t feel safe Ser Criston, you must stay and continue protecting me,” you whined, rushing forward and falling to your knees right in front of him. You clasped one of his hands between yours and pouted as he began trying to get you to stand up. If someone walked in now and saw the princess on her knees in front of a knight, he would be sent to death quicker than he could pray for forgiveness. 

“Stand up Princess, please, you should not be on the floor,” he sounded pained, holding onto your elbows and trying to get you to stand without yanking you up. You just shook your head and did something that made his heart stop directly in his chest. You brought his hands to your lips and gently kissed the backs of both, staring up at him from under fluttering eyelashes. 

“This is exactly where I should be, Ser Criston. You have protected me my entire life, you have cared for me like no other, loved me like no other. I am devoted to you even beyond the gods. It is only right that I show you my devotion, show you my thanks, right here on my knees.” All breath abandoned him as he looked upon you, innocent and pure, on your knees with your face right by his cock. He swallowed harshly, shaking his head. No, no, no. He could not do this. He had abandoned his vows once already. And while he wholeheartedly believed that if he abandoned them with you then it wouldn’t be a waste as it had been with Rhaenyra, the thought of sullying you, of allowing himself to feel all that… heat and desperation, filled him with a shame that would eventually kill him. 

“Princess, please heed my words, you cannot do this, we cannot do this. You say I have protected you my entire life, and it is from this too I have protected you. From the men who wish to steal your honour and sully your body. I will not be one of them.” He wanted to sound firm but it came out pleading, almost verging on a desperate whine that had you frowning and tilting your head. 

“I only want you, Ser Criston. I don’t want any other, and I know I never will. You have never denied me anything, please do not deny me this,” your lip began to wobble and tears pooled so quickly in your eyes that they began to spill over before he could try and sway you away. You began to blubber and he dropped to his knees awkwardly in his armour, 

“Please don’t cry Princess, please don’t cry,” he begged, throwing off his gloves and cupping your face with his hands as you began to sniffle. His skin was rough and warm and you rubbed your cheek into his palm like a puppy. 

“You will not be sullying me, you will still be protecting me. If you do this for me then I will know what love feels like and I will know how to judge a suitor. I-I will know what pleasure feels like,” you added shyly, leaning closer to him. “You will only be teaching me. There is nothing wrong with teaching, you have been teaching me and my brothers since we were children.” 

Criston sighed and shook his head, grunting at the battle that waged a war in his head. He closed his eyes, knowing that if he kept looking at you he would break much too quickly. He shouldn’t be feeling like this for you. He shouldn’t be feeling like this for anyone. It was wrong to be such a lustful creature. But you whimpered and whined in his hands, turning to press open-mouthed kisses against his palms and he could feel the cracks appearing in his resolve along with his shame. When you took his index finger into your mouth, sucking on it like a child with a treat, the feeling of your warm, wet, mouth had spikes of hot pleasure shooting through his body and any remaining resolve dissolving as easier than salt into water. 

Criston moaned, too loud for his liking, and his breath shook out of him, head bowing as he panted against his chest. You could see the change in him, could see that you had won as his free hand began to roughly tug at the straps of his chestplate. It fell away and clattered onto the floor as you continued sucking on his finger, swirling your tongue around the digit. Criston sucked in a breath before pulling his finger from your mouth, cupping your cheek with the same hand and spreading your spit over your face. He pulled you into a kiss, a harsh thing that had you gasping and keening and yelping slightly when your bottom lip pinched between his mouth and your teeth. But all bonds on him had been unleashed, and he was ravenous. 

You fell against him, becoming just as desperate though with far less experience. You shoved your hands into his hair and pressed your chest to his, settling yourself onto his lap as he fell back onto the floor, torso held up by his elbows. He plunged his tongue into your mouth while you collected your skirts into your hands so you could sit on him without any intrusion. Criston pulled away from you, panting against your mouth for a moment before gently shoving you off and standing up again. He began undoing the rest of his armour and you sat on your knees and watched him. His hair was mussed from your hands and his cheeks had gone rosy pink. You heard the clanks of metal as each piece fell away and more of his body was revealed to you. The soft clothes he wore underneath were next, his shirt pulled over his head and tossed to the side without a care in the world. 

The soft bronze skin of his abdomen was taut and curved along each defined muscle. A light dusting of dark hair sat along his chest and trailed down his stomach until it disappeared below his breeches. You couldn’t handle being away from him any longer, a desperate heat crawling over your skin as if bugs had begun buzzing under your skin. 

You shuffled forward on your knees until you were right before him. You pressed a hand to the warm skin of his stomach, lightly scratching your nails down toward the waist of his pants. He shuddered, curling forward slightly and resting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Princess…” he sighed, but he didn’t stop you either. 

You slipped your fingers into the waistband and slowly began to move it down. His cock caught in it before popping out and gently slapping against his abdomen. You stared at it, mouth suddenly full of saliva and legs trembling. You reached out and grasped it, the skin soft and burning hot. The tip was bright red and glistening, a small pearl dribbling out of it and sliding down the length. Another pearl dribbled onto your hand and you tightened your hold on him, listening to the gasps and moans he let out. You didn’t know where the desire to kiss it, to lick it, came from but you didn’t deny a single thing your body desired. You leaned forward and licked just under the head of his cock, smacking your lips slightly to try and decipher what exactly the taste was, before going in for another lick. You ran your tongue up the length of his shaft and back down. The hand on your shoulder clenched tight into your gown and pulled you closer to him. You opened your mouth wide and took the head just past your lips, suckling on it. You stared up into Criston’s face, his mouth open as he panted and moaned like he was in the most pain a man had ever felt. The sounds of your mouth smacking as you suckled on his cock echoed into the room and you rubbed your legs together. It sounded so wrong but oh so good. 

You pulled off of his length before going back to drag long licks along the length of his shaft. Everywhere you could reach you licked until Criston was keening loudly and pulling away. 

“Princess! Princess, please,” he huffed, cupping your face as you sat there staring up at him. You reached to your back and pulled on the ties to unlace your dress as much as you could on your own. The top loosened and the collar fell below your breasts, baring them to the cool air and the eyes of your protector. Your nipples had pebbled and you shivered as the cool air of the keep brushed over your skin. 

Criston stood you up and you allowed the dress to fall fully to your waist, smiling unashamedly as he continued to stare at your body. You wanted him to see you, to see every part of you. You loved him like you had loved no other, and you wanted to show him somehow. He led you to your bed, sitting on the edge and staring up at you. He bent forward and kissed the space between your breasts, rubbing his cheeks against the flesh on either side of his head. He breathed in the smell of your skin, kissing along the softness to your left nipple. He swirled his tongue over it, flicking it, before engulfing it with his mouth and sucking lightly. His mouth felt too hot against your skin and you moaned as you leaned back slightly to continue watching him. 

Criston pulled away and cupped your other breast, massaging it and rubbing the nipple with the pad of his thumb. It felt almost ticklish on the sensitive skin but sparks shot through you all the same. 

“Ser Criston,” you whimpered, pressing your chest further into his hand and hoping he would put his mouth back to the skin. 

“Yes, Princess, yes,” he said hurriedly, but instead of returning to your breasts, he bent at the waist and brought his face to your pussy. You gasped, his thumbs resting against either side and peeling your sticky lips apart. 

You had felt the slick begin to seep out of you and slowly spread from your hole and over your lips, but to see his face begin to press between your thighs, to feel his thumbs gently rub the soft skin and hear the way he inhaled deeply as he settled his chin on the crevice of your thighs had you moaning louder than you ever had before. 

“We must be quiet Princess,” he whispered, but you paid it no heed as he dove his tongue between your thighs right then. 

His tongue was hot and wet, the rough bumps rubbing deliciously against the sensitive skin of your pussy. He licked from bottom to top before focusing on a little nub near the top of the crevice, suckling on it so heat shot straight through you and your legs buckled. You were bowing over him now, nails digging into the skin of his back as you rested on his shoulder, panting and wailing. He lapped at your cunt like a dog drinking water, desperate and aggressive. He slurped and pressed his face as far as it would go into your flesh. You could feel his chin rub against the skin of your thighs, slipping and sliding in the juices that had dribbled out of you. From this angle only the tip of his tongue could reach your hole and he pushed it in just so, pulling it out and pushing it back in so your entrance clenched and unclenched over it, the rim becoming sensitive. 

“Ser Criston!” You wailed, bucking against his face as he moved it back and forth, his nose rubbing against that swollen little nub that made you feel like the world was bursting behind your eyes. 

You pressed your mouth to his back, and in a fleeting moment of clarity remembered that he needed to reach his release as well. You slid one of your hands between your bodies and grasped his cock, choking on a gasp when he moaned right into your flesh and the vibrations spread through every nerve ending. You grasped him tighter and he hissed. You mumbled apologies into his skin before beginning to jerk your hand back and forth along his shaft, listening to the squelch of not only his mouth on your pussy but his cum spreading over his shaft beneath your hand. The pleasure rose within you, his hips bucked frantically up into your hand, your legs twitched uncontrollably, your skin was on fire. Everything felt like it was moving too fast all of a sudden, a wave rising in your legs and stomach and deep in your core. He was moaning against you and the vibrations finally sent you over the edge, heat and overwhelming pleasure throbbing through you. Your fingers twitched and your arms felt like jelly and your ears were rushing with blood. You couldn’t hear Criston’s moans as he spurted onto your thighs and hands, as he pressed his face to your stomach and moaned. 

When your ears quieted you could hear the mingling of both of your panted breaths, could feel the saliva that had drooled from your mouth and smeared onto his back under your cheek. Your weight was completely resting over his shoulder and you could feel the stickiness all along your thighs, the breeze beginning to cool it and sending shivers down your spine. Your hand was sticky and you slowly peeled it away from his cock. Criston shivered and slowly brought you off his shoulder and into his lap. You stared into his eyes, deep brown and endless. He leaned down and kissed you, lips salty and slick. 

“Thank you, Ser Criston,” you said, smiling against his mouth.

Taglist: @autumnhymns

[concretecultist]

Kingdom Come

summary: you ask Noah, your Dom best friend, for a big favor.

pairing: sub!fem!reader x dom!noah

word count: 7.4k

THIS IS PURE FICTION!!

warnings: 18+!! BDSM, restraints, slapping/impact play, light degradation, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, p in v, oral (f receiving), subspace

A/N: this was purely self indulgent. please reblog and comment if you enjoyed 🥰

~Berry🫐

Life was kicking your ass. Harder than normal and the weight of the world was getting harder the bear.

Your job sucked, your body ached all the time and the one guy who you thought was going to be it for you, ended up ghosting you. All of it was a slap in the face and it was even worse when your landlord calls you to let you know the water would be off for a couple weeks due to maintenance issues. You guess you could tolerate it since he’s reducing rent during the time that the water will be off.

So, once you find out this information, you’re calling your best friend to see if you can crash there for a while. He had no problem with it. He no longer had roommates and often found himself missing having someone around.

So when you arrived and got yourself situated after a steamy shower to wash the day off, you find yourself sitting beside Noah with a question burning a hole in your tongue.

“I know this idea is out there but,” you choke on the words and realize how ridiculous this sounds.

“What?,” he keeps clicking away at his controller as he played his game, not taking his eyes off the screen. When you don’t answer, he takes a peak over at you and can see you biting your lip so hard it looks like it’ll bleed.

“Stop doing that,” he paused his game and used his thumb to gently pull your lip down from between the grip of your teeth, “What’s going on. It’s just me, Y/N,”

You look to him, twiddling your thumbs and decide it’s all or nothing, if he says no you guys can just forget you ever said anything.

“I need to turn my brain off,” you blurt out.

“Okay?,” he shrugs as if there was nothing to it, “I can have Folio bring some weed by,”

“No, I-,” you throw your face in your hands, cheeks burning as you think about it, “You are in the…. the BDSM scene and I want you to help me turn my brain off,”

His mouth drops in an ‘o’ shape as it clicks what exactly you mean. His hesitation has you feeling so silly. You should have just showered, went home and rubbed one out.

“Sugar, I’m not exactly sure you know what you’re asking for,”

You were his little sugar cube. Too sweet to know exactly what his life entailed behind the scenes. You never really seemed interested in it before. But little did he know, you were just nervous to show it.

He could be mean at the request of his subs during sessions and you were requesting it now but you were his best friend and he didn’t want to cross that line unless you were 110% sure.

“N-no, no I do,”

He’s briefly talked about his sessions enough for it to cause a burning of desire in your gut. You’ve never been in the scene but with the way things are going lately, you just need to be taken care of, to be manhandled and you’d rather do that with someone you trust.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you mumble, humiliated now that you’d expect your hot, dom, best friend to do that for and to you, “I just made a fool of myself,”

The silence that he was giving after your initial ask was gnawing at your emotions, you just wanted to disappear right now.

“Sugar, it would be an honor but if we do this, there’s no going back because I’m going to want you forever,” his words spilled like the smoothest whiskey on the market. Sure, now this sounds like a typical cliche of friends to lovers but what’s wrong with that? Sometimes things like this are meant to become something more. Maybe that’s why long term relationship never worked for either of you… because you two were it for each other?

“Please,” your voice cracks with need. You had showered while he stayed on the couch playing a video game and yet your body is still tense.

“Follow me,” he stands tall before you, extending a hand in which you take easily. You could already feel some tension relieving from simply holding his hand.

He kept his pace slow, easy for you to keep up with as one of his steps equaled three of yours.

He had a spare bedroom that no one was allowed in, not even you and you guys had been friends for almost a decade now. So when he reached above the door to grab the key, you snatched your hand from his and took a giant step back.

“I can’t go in there,”

“Right, without my consent,” he peaked over his shoulder, “But you have that now and then some,”

You looked at him with wary eyes and he dropped his shoulders with a knowing sigh.

“You’re supposed to be relaxing,” his hands made their way onto your shoulders to deliver a comforting squeeze, “This is the way,”

One of his hands is gently cradling your cheek now and it’s so soothing that you can’t help but lean into it and he notices the way your eyes flutter.

He already knows you’re going to be so good for him tonight.

Noah leans his forehead down to yours and your lips are only a few centimeters a part.

“You trust me… don’t you, Sugar?,”

Immediately weak in the knees, noticing he’s already entering into his persona. You nod feverishly against him.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,”

A gentle peck on your lips has you leaning in for more when he pulls away.

“Take your hands off the wheel and let me drive,” is all he says before turning his back to you to unlock the door.

Time seemed to slow down when he pushed it open, a part of you wanted to close your eyes, still feeling nervous about seeing a space he deemed so private that he kept it locked up. Your hand is in his once more with him pulling you through the threshold as he flicks the light on.

Red fluorescent lights filling your vision.

It smells so good in here and you wonder how, considering what possibly goes down based simply off of what’s in here.

The bed frame looks like one luxurious bird cage, bolted to the floor and a sheer canopy draping over it. There’s bars hanging from the ceiling with cuffs hanging from them.

Open cupboards of different items like floggers, paddles then another filled with masks and gags, one full of toys. There’s a full fridge in here with a clear door and you can see different replenishing beverages and snacks.

This is his sex dungeon

“Something like that,” he spoke aloud.

Realizing your thoughts weren’t kept in your head you avert your gaze to the ground.

“I don’t use it much other than personal uses, any time I have a scene with someone I meet them at theirs. I’ve just been keeping this a secret until I found the one worthy to be in here,”

Your eyes widen as you raise your head to meet his.

“M-me?!,” poking yourself in the chest, “I… you mean me?!,”

His shoulders tremble in soft laughter, shaking his head at your disbelief.

“This entire time, I’ve just been wanting to bring you here but you never expressed any interest in the scene,” he played with your fingers in his grasp, something he always found comfort in doing.

“I didn’t know if you’d take me seriously. I’m not exactly… what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive,”

“You’re exactly what comes to mind,” he brings you to a plush crimson couch, covered in velvet material. When your ass meets the cushions, he’s reaching to a table beside you to light a candle, bringing it over with him as he lowers himself into his knees before you.

“I’m going to go over a few house rules while I get you relaxed okay?,”

You offer a simple nod and he smirks,

“Rule number one- I always need a verbal answer. I don’t want to leave anything to the imagination and possibly misread body language, got it?,”

Swallowing thickly you nod once more, “I understand,”

“Good girl,” his hands make their way onto your calves, kneading the tight muscles, causing an involuntary moan in which you try to subdue.

“Number two, don’t be shy,” he says plainly, “I know this is new but you know me and I’m here to keep you safe so don’t shy away from me. Be as vocal and as emotional as you need to be,”

“I understand,” you answer once more. Your eyes watch his hands, curious when he picks up the candle, the flame flickering in his eyes.

“Three. Trust that I will never hurt you outside of what you ask for,” he tips the candle and a quiet gasp leaves your lips, quickly turning into a moan when the wax drips onto your tired legs, Noah instantly setting the candle down and massaging it into your skin.

“Pheromone massage candles,” he answered your unasked question.

“Four. I usually go by King during these scenes but since this is new for you I don’t want you to feel detached from me so call me Noah until you feel comfortable, okay?,”

“Y-yes,” your eyes cross slightly while his thumbs work into the sore soles of your feet. This was helping so much and just from this simple interaction, your core is buzzing already.

“Five. If you need to stop or directions are not okay or unclear- speak up. I’m going to need you to pick a safeword for me,”

You squirm on the couch, becoming putty in his hands as they move from your feet to your calves and now your thighs.

“Kingdom,” you answer with ease, if he goes by King might as well make it coordinate right?

“Good one,” he plants a kiss by your knee, “Rule six, no negative self talk or thoughts. I may degrade you but I will always follow it up with praise. You are loved and cared about, you understand me?,”

“I understand,” you nod.

“Seven. Have fun and let go. We are here together so remember I will always catch you,”

With his last rule he spreads your thighs, squeezing them to get a reaction out of you.

“Do you have any rules for me?,” eyes dark yet caring in the red glow.

“Don’t hold back,” an embarrassing whimper escapes, “I know I’m a rookie but I can take it and I know you’ll take care of me just…,”

Your hands grab his, holding them tight so he knows how bad you need this.

“Just don’t hold back. I need it, I know I’m safe so I just need you to hurt me, I need you to help me turn my brain off and surrender myself to you,”

Your words from earlier echoed in Noah’s head and he thought they were a crock of shit.

I’m not exactly what comes to mind when someone says they want a submissive

Bullshit. You were perfect.

He wipes his hands on a towel that he kept on the table with the candle, setting it and the candle back in their original spot when he was finished.

His hands are now sheltering your face because he can see your mind is still running a million miles a minute.

“What do you need from me right now?,”

You were embarrassed to say it.

“What were rules 2 and 7, Sugar?,” his voice pulled you from your own thoughts.

“To not be shy and to let go,”

He nodded in understanding, “So why are you breaking my rules and overthinking?,”

God, he was so good at this. The twinge of disappointment in his tone had your heart aching, you wanted to be good.

“Can.. c-can you smack me?,” your voice was barely a whisper and you knew he wouldn’t let that slide.

“Speak up, baby. Closed mouths don’t get fed,” his thumbs were rubbing such comforting circles on your cheeks, you couldn’t help but oblige.

“I need you to smack me,” it wasn’t a plea, it was a declaration.

Noah just reads your face. Studying your expression to see if there’s any doubt, any hesitation. He stands you up and then he leans in to kiss you with a sort of need that you’ve never been kissed with before. You two are breathing heavily in between and you can barely keep up. Your hands tangled in his shirt, pulling him closer, just wanting him to consume you.

He pulls away but before you can protest, you feel the searing heat of his open palm meeting your cheek. A gasp of surprise comes from you and yet again you’re left with no time to react when he does it again.

“Fuck,” you mewl, “More,”

He answers your demand with a little more power behind this one, the pain feeling so good you almost fall to your knees but luckily, he held you upright.

“Turn it off,” he says through clenched teeth, smacking you once more. If you were naked you know for a fact you’d be dripping down your legs, “Turn it off, Sugar. I see you trying,”

Hand on your neck, he’s pushing you backward and each step is another slap until he pins you to the wall, you can feel your eyes burn as the tears of desire being to rise.

You need this so bad.

“I said. Turn,” a harder slap, “It. Off!!,” with one more smack, you’re practically howling at how exceptional it felt, eyes closed as you welcome the sting that lingered on your flesh, feeling the heat running down to your neck and up to your temples.

Your head feels like you’re in limbo and when you open your eyes, he can see the change in yours and you can see the change in his.

You’re both in your designated positions. He has his hands on the wheel now. Your brain was off and the part of you that needed to be taken care of has entered the chat, the stressed version was locked away in a dark cell of your mind and would stay there until it was time to let her out.

“There she goes,” his hand soothed your cheek and you were liquid in his hands

“Thank you,” doe eyes shining up at him, he feels so proud of himself.

“Oh baby, it’s my pleasure,” he cooed, “Can you be good and undress for me?,”

“Can you help?,” your body was feeling fuzzy, like you had a few shots and were floating now. You felt like if you tried to undress yourself you’d topple over.

“Of course,” he felt gratified to be asked.

One article of clothing at a time until you were bare in front of him, pinned against the crimson paint on the wall.

“How are we doing? You okay?,” a kiss planted to your neck, his large hands running up and down your body had you sighing in content.

“On cloud nine,” you answer dreamily. You were in a daze, this room felt like your own amusement park now.

A room you once weren’t allowed in because this is his sanctuary. How many others were close to being brought here? How many others did he put in a hypnotic state?

“Put her away,” his gruff voice echoed in your ears, “She doesn’t get to come back. Lock it away,”

He could tell through your body language that you were starting to overthink again.

“Do we need to stop?,”

“No,” rearing back to look him in his eyes so he can see how bad you truly need and want this, “No. It’s turned off,”

“That’s what I need to hear,”

He brings you back over to the couch you were on a few minutes ago but this time he’s sitting on the cushion and he’s positioning you over his lap.

“Think you can handle a few spanks?,”

“Uh huh!,” excitement coursing through your veins, body jolting when you feel his lips press against the supple flesh that he was soon about to tenderize.

But first, he had to feel you. He has to feel your wetness coat his fingers. So his fingers trace figures on the back of your thighs and you’re jutting your ass up to get him to touch you, he delivers a light smack as a warning.

“Patience,” is all he speaks. Slowly but surely, his middle finger swipes your clit and lightly presses into your entrance.

He pulls a long drawn out moan from you when he fully pushes his finger inside. A quiet growl emits from his chest and your toes are curling.

“Noah pleeeeaaase,” you grip his calves, eyes rolling at his slow movement of removing his finger and reinserting it.

“What do you need, Sugar?,” you could hear the smile in his tone. The way he was speaking to you and touching you just made the anxiety melt away.

“Wanna feel your fingers. Always wanted to feel your fingers,” you couldn’t help but be unapologetically honest. For years you’ve watched his hands and how he talks with them, how he uses them to hold multiple things at once, how he sucks on them when he gets ice cream or ranch on them.

But until now you’ve always buried your desires deep.

“Oh yeah?,” without a warning, he’s stretching you open and you’re bracing yourself against his thighs, spreading your legs as open as possible so you’re not falling off his lap.

“You feel so good, Sugar,” he affirms, “So wet for me, so fucking warm,”

His fingers were reaching so deep it was intoxicating, never having experienced anyone with fingers as long as his has you going cross eyed.

“Thank you, Noah!!!,” your walls pulsing around his middle and ring fingers while his free hand soothed your ass cheeks before taking a big strike against them, the sound of his palm meeting your flesh bouncing off the walls.

“You’re so welcome, baby,” he picks up the pace of his fingers and he can feel the way you’re trying to get friction on your clit.

“Nuh uh,” he spanks you once more, “Be good, take what I give you,”

“Please,” singing a beautiful tune, you just want to let go for him, you want to crumble in his lap, you want him to feel what he does to you.

“Please what?,” another strike on your ass and another curl of his fingers inside you.

“W-wanna cum for you,”

“Is that right?,” there’s that teasing tone again, it makes you feel small but it only tightens the coil in your core. He moves his fingers with expertise inside of you and you think you’re about to orgasm strictly off of penetration which is rare for you. You almost always need clitoral stimulation.

“Please. Please. Wanna be good for you, wanna let go for you,”

You two have only just begun and you’re already a mess. You can hear the squelching, you can hear your heart thumping in your ears, you’re trembling.

You’re a fucking mess in his grasp.

“I think we should make your first one easy enough to earn,” he observed, positioning his knee right under your pelvis, adding the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers stroked the deepest depths of you.

“C‘mon, Sugar. Give it to me. Let it out,”

Your nails are digging into his calf and you’re drooling, rocking back into him but he didn’t mind this time, he’s enjoys seeing how desperate you are to cum, not just for yourself but for him.

You want to offer all you can to him. All of your emotions, all of your whimpers and cries, your mind, body and spirit.

“I’m gonna… can I cum, Noah? Please”

He gives a hum of approval and he can feel it, he watched your body swell with a deep breath and watched it deflate as you let out the most beautiful, guttural moan he’s ever heard.

His fingers halt their movements inside of you and he makes sure to rub your back to bring you back down.

“You’re okay,” a soft murmur leaves his lips while he slowly removes his fingers from your soaked hole, sitting you up and repositioning you in his lap so you’re straddling him.

“Be good and open for me,”

You follow his directions and bask in the glory of his fingers pressing down on your tongue, making you taste yourself. You collect your flavor but before you can close your mouth and swallow it down, he’s pushing his tongue into your mouth to taste you.

Your eyes instantly roll in the back of your head, relishing the taste of his mouth sharing the taste of you.

“Need you,” you pull away, hands cupping his face as if he’s made of glass, “Always needed you,”

His gaze softens for a moment, letting you know that ‘regular’ Noah hears you, that it’s not just his persona hearing those words.

“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere,” he purred, “You have me, Sugar. Just as I have you,”

With ease, he lifts you up and walks with you to the cupboards.

“Pick a toy, a gag and a restraint and come to the bed when you’ve made your decision,” a kiss is given to your temple and he walks away, leaving you to make your choices without any pressure. He grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and makes his way to the bed.

He has so many trinkets to choose from. He just stock piled all of this stuff until he found the one? He really is a stickler for this kind of thing.

After some careful self-deliberation, you grabbed your chosen items and made your way over to him. Noah sat patiently within the doorway of the cage-like bed.

“I chose these,” you offer them to him and he gave an intrigued ‘hmph’

A rose, a silicone bar gag and wrist-to-thigh cuffs.

“Good choices, baby” standing up and kissing your forehead, he moves out of the way so you can see the bed. Silk red sheets, chains hanging from the bars, and the sheer canopy keeping secrets in with just a glimpse of what was to come.

“Climb up,” he pats your ass and you do just that, at a leisure pace so he can get a good view of you from behind. When you sit flat, you see him entering and closing the door behind him.

This feels much more intimate than just any ole bedroom. The lighting, the enclosed space, all of it made you feel closer to Noah.

“Before we start, take a drink for me,”

“But I’m okay,”

“Did I ask that?,” he tilts his head, eyes squinting as if to tell you ‘watch it.’

“I’m sorry,”

He cracks open the bottle and holds it to your lips, giving you a knowing look as if to say ‘I told you so’ when you drink down half the bottle.

When you’re finish he sets it to the side and hovers over you until you’re laying back on your elbows, eyes not leaving his.

“How are we doing? You still okay?,”

“I’m perfect, Noah,” a tender smirk made its way into your face, “I know I’m safe,” you assure.

“Are you okay? I know this kind of thing takes time, just don’t want you to feel pressured,” you inquire.

“There you go overthinking,” he kisses your neck, “For you, it’s easy to turn on. You never took notice to how I always took control? No matter what we did?,”

He’s got a point. Any time you two went out grocery shopping because you were anxious and didn’t want to go alone, he hooked his arm with yours, took your list and did all the shopping. Any time you two went out to the movies, he’s picking your snacks and drinks and doing all the talking. A hand on the small of your back each time you two were out, always helping you zip up your dresses or fastening your necklaces.

It was subtle, but it was always there.

“I was made for you. I was made to take care of you,” he continues his trail of kisses, planting them wherever he pleases, “And you let me. Which means you were always mine,”

A relaxed sigh is released at his words. He’s right and you know it.

“So, knowing this. I’m more than okay and am filled with joy of knowing that I get to break you and put you back together again, over and over,”

Bucking your hips up wasn’t a good idea, considering he pinned them down and got your restraints ready.

“I need this. Noah, please I need you” a shameful cry bounces off the bars of the enclosure you found yourself in.

“I know,” he growled, fastening your hands into the cuffs and attaching the other bands to each thigh. With your hands tied to your thighs now, you wouldn’t be able to touch him.

“You need me to wreck you. To hurt you so that the stressors of your everyday light aren’t plaguing your brain for once,”

He squeezes your cheeks so your lips are parted and lifts your head up to move your hair out of the way so he can tighten the gag.

You looked so beautiful like this.

“I’m here to give you just that,” he grabs the rose, “I don’t care how many orgasms it takes. I’m going to reduce you to nothing and fill you back up with worth again. I will end you and resuscitate you over and over again until you’ve had enough. Is that understood?,”

“Yeth,” you slur around the gag.

“Good,” on his knees, between your legs, he turns the rose on and the low hum fills the space, he leans forward to spit on your nipples before placing the opening of the toy over your harden buds, your back swiftly arching off the bed with a moan around the silicone.

He’s at this for a while, just teasing your nipples, biting at your jawline, groaning in your ear until you’re leaking onto the silk sheets.

You’re begging around the gag but he just teasingly looks at you as if he can’t understand you. But he knows. He knows where you need him.

“It’s a lot, are you sure you can handle it on your clit?,” he smirks so devilishly it’s almost scary. But the twinge of fear makes you ache.

“Mmhmm mmhm!,” already drooling around the bar, you nod feverishly, just wanting to feel something, no, needing to feel something.

You get what you desire when he sits back up on his heels to spread your legs even wider to get a perfect view of your swollen clit, glistening as your arousal is painted all over your core.

When he finally attaches the toy to your clit, your toes are curling, your eyes are rolling and your back is arching.

Maybe you weren’t ready for this, maybe you should have gotten a wand or something.

“Relax,” he says simply, using his own legs to pin yours down.

“Breathe, Sugar. Just breathe. Look at me,” he sees the way your eyes are swimming with tears and it brings him satisfaction, especially when your chest is trembling from him keeping the buzzing toy on your sensitive bundle.

“It’s a lot, I know but I wouldn’t give you more than you could handle,”

He slowly inhaled with you, guiding you to calm you down but it was just too much, so much that you’re already cumming and groaning behind the gag which causes Noah to darkly chuckle.

But he keeps it there. He keeps the rose there and you’re convulsing under him when he sinks his fingers into your messy core.

“That was pathetic,” he looked into your eyes, “And you didn’t even ask,”

He got so much amusement out of your whimpers, how the hell were you supposed to ask with a gag in your mouth?! But maybe that’s the point? It’s a set up for him to milk you as a form of torture.

It was sadistic but, you were the masochist after all.

“You’re so creamy,” he said in a daze, absolutely obsessed with the way you’re painting his fingers, your walls pulsing around his appendages as if they’re trying to draw them in and keep them there.

“Noaaaaaaahh!!,” your cries muffled, your face so wet from the tears and the spit but Noah finds it beautiful, if he could, he’d paint how you looked right now and frame it, get it tattooed even.

“You can do it. You asked for this, remember?” His eyes rolled at the feeling of his fingers deep inside, drenched in your offering, his tattoos glistening, catching his eye in the ruby lighting. He just wanted to be bottomed out in you already.

You’re calling for him from around the gag, breasts shaking as you’re overcome with yet another blinding climax. Your nails dig into your thighs, just wanting to dig them into Noah’s instead and pull him toward you. You wanted him, you craved him.

“Sshhhh. You’re okay, Sugar. You’re doing so well for me,” he picked himself up off your legs and grabbed a rag to wipe the spit that dribbled down your chin, “I’m gonna turn you over, need you to give me one more before you have me. One more and we can take the cuffs and gag off okay?,”

Sitting you up, his hand supporting the back of your head as he checks over you, making sure you’re okay.

“Do you need anything? A break, water?,” he breaks character for a moment

With a verbal “Nuh uh” behind the bar, you let him position you like a Barbie, letting him move your legs, manually arching your back and propping a pillow under your head so you were comfy and could breathe.

You feel him leave open mouthed kisses on your ass, biting the pillowy skin just to hear you hum in delight.

“Can’t wait to give you what you want,” Noah positions himself under you so he can stare right up at your leaking heat, no matter the angle, it was a mesmerizing sight to see, “But first, I just need to taste you.”

He exasperated in desperation before using his hands to grab your ass, bringing you down and lifting his head to feast.

Your fists are clenching in your restraint and your moans are flowing from your chest like a river. His tongue worked your overstimulated clit, suckling and licking. He ate as if you were the finest delicacy, trying to savor but also consuming you with greed.

Your body just responded to him without a fight, you were his puppet and he pulled the strings but you happily danced for him, giving him what he wanted. Yet again you feel his fingers push into you, you’d never get enough of his fingers, he knew how to use them and he knew how to use you. You were a howling mess against the pillow when you feel your next orgasm approaching. How did he expect you to stay up like this? Your legs felt like jelly and you were falling a part.

“You can do it, baby. I feel it. You’re almost there,” he murmured against your pussy, “One more and you can have what you want but you gotta show me you want it,”

Oh God did you want it, and bad! Your head felt fuzzy, your body was playing tug of war, fighting between it being too much versus you wanting it.

You gave in. Pussy pulsing, chest burning from hyperventilating and muscles aching. Despite it all, you’re cumming for him again, giving into your deep craving to just be his doll.

“You’re such a good fucking girl,” he cheers, drinking you in. He pulls himself away to position you on your back, quickly working to remove your restraints and gag.

“Sit up for me, Sugar,”

Your head lulling to the side, both of you giggling about it. He has you drink some more water and cleans your face with the towel again.

“I’m ready,” it was a simple whisper, “Show me what I’ve been missing. Please, King,”

The title takes Noah by surprise. He thought it would take a few sessions to get you fully under his spell but, you truly were for him. You were ready to bow to him, to fulfill every quest he bestowed upon you.

It kind of pulled at his heart strings. Whenever he was out in the scene he only cared about showing the subs a good time, a time for him and them to release and never see each other again. But this, this was euphoria.

“Lie down for me,” he hums, taking off his lounge wear and boxers so he’s bare just like you are.

He was a beautiful man to begin with but to see him like this in all his glory? It had you feeling like royalty. Others got to see him, yes, but you… only you get to see him.

He makes sure you’re comfortable before he inches forward, the tip nudging your clit and he grabbed your hands when you flinched away at the contact, lacing his fingers between yours.

“Don’t run away from me,” his lips were so plump, glistening with his spit and you just know they still taste like you.

“Call it before I ruin you,” he gave you one more chance.

“Do it” it wasn’t a teasing phrase. You wanted it. You have yearned long enough and now your wish is his command. His pins your clasped hand to the bed and takes your free hand, guiding it to his cock.

“Take it,” he ordered.

He was a perfect mix of girth and length, a mouth water red tip that shines with precum, two prominent veins, yeah- he was going to destroy you.

You couldn’t help but stroke him, watching the way his mouth hung open and his eyes closed gently, this is the face of a King all right. Scooting closer to him, not wanting to leave any space, you slapped his tip against your own clit, the breath of both of you hitching in tandem. The noises that emitted from between the two of you, while you rubbing him against your entrance, were sinful.

“Show me what you’ve been wanting. Show me how bad you need me,” he growls, hiking both of your legs around his waist.

You guide him into you slowly, the eyes of both of you going wide, rejoicing in the way he fit in you like a missing puzzle piece, filling you up to make you whole.

“Fuck!,” choking on your own spit, the heels of your feet pulled him in so he could bottom out. You needed to catch your breath because you know once he gets started, you’ll lose it again. He drew in a shaky breath, bewitched by how good you feel.

“Give it to me,” you squeeze his hand, “Make me yours. I want to be yours. Ple- Oooooh fuck!!,”

His hips drew back and snapped into you, cutting you off as the pleasure drowns you. He kept the stacattoed pace, just taking in your expressions.

But then he saw the way you looked at him, it was a look of complete surrender, a look that says “I love you, I trust you”

It was a look to tell him to let go.

So, he used his free hand to take your thigh and press it back so your knee was almost touching your chest. This wasn’t Noah, the King was here and he was going to show you exactly why he was given that title.

You’re pinned beneath him from all angles and it’s overwhelming. His chain dangling in your face with each thrust, his voice smooth like suede as he talks you through it.

“Just like that, pretty girl. Take what I give you,”

Your moans slipped out like a hot knife to butter, he was fucking you through the mattress, bodies tangled and noises echoing through the room, he was making you melt.

“S-so fucking good!!,” the tears were spilling from your eyes and he just kissed them away without missing a beat.

“I know, Sugar,” he bows his head into your neck to leave a trail of bites, sinking his teeth into your dewy skin, your cries of surprise being music to his ears. You welcomed the pain of his biting, he had beautiful teeth and you always wondered what it would feel like for him to bite you. You don’t care if any marks are left. You’re his, he can leave marks for you to brandish all he wants.

“I’m so proud of you,” he grunted into your ear, “Coming to me all vulnerable, wanting me to take care of you and now you’re taking it like the good little slut you always wanted to be,”

“Please!,” your free hand tangles in his hair, your other makes crescent shaped dents in the back of his hand that held yours, “Please, fuck! Don’t stop!,”

Noah lifts his head to see the spaced out look in your eyes, half lidded and dick drunk. He never thought he’d see you like this.

“Please what? Use your words,” he pulls back from you to watch the look of despair on your face when he slows down.

Your words are caught in your throat, finding it hard to make a coherent sentence.

“Please, what, Sugar? Don’t make me ask again” He lets your leg go to grab the bar of the caged bed above your head, preparing to pick up his pace when you admit what you need.

“W-wanna cum around your cock,” it was a strong wail, one of pure carnal desire.

“You need it that bad?,” he teases.

“King, please. I need it so bad!!,”

The wind is knocked out of you as he sets his pace, rolling his hips, the tip of his cock rubbing against every sensitive spot within you, causing you both to be vocal. A harmony unmatched. His whimpers fueling you to make it to the finish line. He wasn’t ashamed of the noises he made, especially because he saw how they impacted you.

He let go of your hand and smacked you just like he did earlier, eyes rolling once again as the heat only adds to the pleasure.

“More, please, please, please!!,”

“Such a dirty fucking slut. Getting off to her King slapping her around like a rag doll,” he smacked you again, earning another loud cry from you, he could feel just how much you love it, he can feel it when you clench around him each time his hand meets your cheek.

“Yes, yes,” your eyes never left his, not shying away.

“You like it when it hurts?,” another slap delivered, “You like it when it hurts knowing I’ll make it all better?,”

“Fuck!,” the tears just keep spilling but he knows they’re tears of release, of pleasure, they’re tears for him. Another offering to the King.

“I’m gonna make it all better, Sugar. Just keep being good and taking it, okay?,”

“Y-yes,”

He grabs your cheeks, squishing them together again so his tongue can slide in your mouth effortlessly. Teeth clashing, spit being swapped, the energy between you two was potent, a potion that you’d keep coming back for, drinking it down without being asked.

“I wanna cum for you,” biting his bottom lip, you pull back with a fucked out smirk on your face, “I wanna make a mess. I wanna show you that I’m worthy,”

“I already know that you are, baby,” his thumb tracing small circles onto your clit, his other releasing the bar and coming to wrap around your neck, “I know you’re my pretty little slut who will do anything to stay in my good graces,”

When his hand began to squeeze at your neck you were done for. Your moans came out in tremors, you were clutching onto him in anywhere you can. You groan at the loss of contact on your clit until his thumb is replaced with the same toy he wrecked you with earlier.

“You’re gonna take this toy from me. You’re going to be a good girl for your King and make yourself cum on my cock. You hear me?,” his voice was dangerously low now, letting you know there was no negotiation.

With a shaking hand you snake your hand between the two of you, grabbing the bulbous toy from him and holding it against yourself despite your body telling you to pull away.

“You’re doing great, baby,” he assures, a soft kiss placed on your lips, “Just focus on me. I’m right here,”

He was so close now. One hand on your throat and the other holding the back of your head, pressing your foreheads together.

“My King,” you gasp, chest heaving as you feel yourself ready to fall off the edge.

“I’m gonna catch you. I’m always going to catch you, baby,”

Your eyes stared deeply into his and you just sobbed, needing this more than anything and you just cried. Getting fucked within an inch of your life so good you’re crying was not something you expected to happen considering your past endeavors with men who only cared about getting their own rocks off.

“I know. I know,” he’s still driving his hips deep into you and you’re circling the toy lightly on your swollen, cum soaked bud, you were almost there.

“Give it to me, Sugar. Give me what you owe me,”

And that was all she wrote.

With one deep gasp to fill your lungs he delivers a strong thrust, your fingers trembling around the toy so hard you accidentally turned it up to the next level and you were done for.

You practically screamed as Noah siphoned your orgasm out of you. You were shuddering beneath him as he kept thrusting, still talking you through it.

“You’re okay. You did so good for me, I’m right here. Fuck!”

With one last searing kiss, Noah is stilling his movements, emptying himself inside of you, both of you practically giving each other mouth to mouth CPR as you try to catch your breath. His head has fallen in the crook of your neck and your eyes are fighting to stay open.

“You can come back down now. Come back to me,” he mutters.

You slowly regain all your senses back. Taking in your surroundings and what just happened. As everything hits you, your cries echo in the room.

“Hey,” Noah is quick to sit both of you up and set you in his lap, “What’s going on in that head of yours?,”

Swallowing your cries and wiping your eyes you search for him, eyes connecting, the same beautiful brown eyes you could point out in any crowd.

“Thank you,” is all you say, “I needed that. More than you know,”

He smiles in relief, worried that the scene had somehow upset you.

“We got to get you cleaned up. We’ve got some aftercare to do and some things to talk about,”

Once both of you were all bathed, Noah took the time to moisturize your skin, apply soothing lotion to your ass and even being gentle in doing your skincare routine for you.

Once he has you curled up in his bed, he went to go clean the other room and brought back some snacks and water with electrolyte packets.

He takes it upon himself to feed you all while affirming how good you were. That you’re loved and cared for, not wanting to leave any room for doubt to sneak in.

“You okay to talk?,” he questions.

You sit up against the headboard, worried about what this talk can pertain to.

“I see the cogs turning, relax,” he soothes, “If you want this like I want this we need to talk,”

“I want this,” you answer definitively. He can’t help but laugh at your excitement.

“I know it’s a little too late to say that I don’t want to rush into things but, I’d like to rewind a bit and start at square one,”

“And that is?,”

“A date,” he answers simply. Sure you’ve gone on friend dates all the time but this is different, this is serious, “I want to build it from the ground up. I know we’ve been friends for ages and have built trust but this is different and I want to build a stronger foundation because I want this to work,”

You take in his words, listening as he goes over his requests and needs for the relationship. You gave him your own list of demands and found yourselves giddy at the fact that yes, you two are a living cliche.

But who cares?

It was you and Noah against the world now.

Til Kingdom Come.

This idea was burning in my head for ages and I had to write it!!

Please be sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed, thank you for your support!! 🥹

~Berry 🫐

tags: @lma1986 @thisbicc @theroyaldixon @whatitsdecending

[babydollitzel]

hiiii I love your works and I was wondering if you can do dating hcs for soda and dally? You don’t have too tho 🫶🫶🫶

𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐜’𝐬

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Dallas Winston x Fem!reader

warnings/extra; just mention of leaving hickeys and smacking your bum

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ tysm I really appreciate it💕 and btw the Soda hc’s are next

∞༺♡༻∞༺♡༻∞༺♡༻∞༺♡༻∞

𐙚 he won’t give you his skull ring until he’s sure that you two would last because he lowkey has trust issues from Sylvia

𐙚 though you always reassure him that you’d never cheat on him and that you’re not like her

𐙚 For pet names I feel like he’d call you doll. Sometimes he’d call you “man” like he does to most people but you’re not so fond of it

𐙚 When he talks about you, not to shit talk but to probably brag about you, he’ll refer to you as his ‘broad’ or just by your name

𐙚 He lets you wear his jacket but most of the time you steal it

𐙚 When you guys are walking he puts his hand on your back pocket

𐙚 Also smacks your butt really hard and laughs when you squeal

𐙚 He steals stuff for you, and even though you tell him not to he does it anyway

𐙚 Much to your dismay he sneaks in through your window in the middle of the night while you’re sleeping

𐙚 At first the gang wasn’t sure about you because they were wary that you were like Sylvia but they eventually warmed up to you

𐙚 Randomly tugs your hair just to irritate you. He can be really annoying🫤

𐙚 Related to that, he like annoying you or making you mad because that little sht thinks it’s funny

𐙚 Likes to flick your forehead unnecessarily hard too like what

𐙚 Sometimes he’ll blow his cig smoke in your face and laugh when you scrunch your face. If you tell him to stop then he probably stop or say some sht like “make me”

𐙚 He doesn’t really say that he loves you because ‘It would be a miracle if Dally loved anything’🤓 and because he doesn’t want to admit it but he does show you that he loves you

𐙚 You always clean him up after a rumble while scolding him, as to which he acts like he doesn’t care but he does feel bad about making you worry

𐙚 When he kisses you it’s as if the dude’s trying to eat your face

𐙚 He’s also really protective, does not like it when he catches other guys checking you out.

𐙚 He either starts getting touchy in front of the guy or says something like “tf you looking at🤨”

𐙚 He loves leaving hickeys everywhere, especially where other people can see. He likes showing off that you’re his only

𐙚 He brags about you a lot and likes to show you off

𐙚 You hate when Dallas gets into jail and hate when you’re the one who has to bail him out. He also hates seeing your distraught face whenever you see him in his cell or in handcuffs

𐙚 Dallas is the typa guy to say, “Where my hug at?” or cover your eyes and say “Guess who?” like pls stop💕

𐙚 You guys bicker a lot because you’re both kinda petty but you always make up in the end

𐙚 He drives you around town and he purposely drives terribly just to spook you but he still keeps a hand GRIPPING your thigh

𐙚 He likes taking you to the drive in, sometimes yall don’t even watch the move. You spend the whole time eating popcorn and chit chatting or just making out at the back of the drive in

𐙚 When he’s drunk he gets really touchy

𐙚 please come back we miss you Dally🙏🏻

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow: 10

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns, explicit, violence, death, sexual assault, child birth, Capitol bullies.

Editor: @hotline-to-hell

chapter one

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

chapter 9

Chapter 10

The bed you were asleep on felt like a cloud under you. 

The bedding was fresh, and smelt slightly of lavender scented washing powder. It held a  crispness that could only be given by drying in the sun. 

Pillows surrounded you, giving you a sense of security while heavy blankets nearly pinned you to the mattress from their weight. 

You slept easy despite your predicament. Only the morning sun, as it streamed through the airy curtains, woke you. Still, you don’t move. Too comfortable, and too tired to face the day. 

Coriolanus was not next to you. The large bed was only occupied by yourself. You wondered how long he had been missing, and how much longer he would stay away. 

You were in an entirely new world, only he was familiar. And even he had changed. He was President of Panem, not Commander of District 12. His hair was long, and his clothes were fashionable. He even held himself taller and talked slower. 

Still, he was what you knew. Your lifeline in an alien world. 

Would you change too? You supposed you had. 

A District girl, now wife of the President. Soon the weight of the diamond on your hand would become unrecognizable. You would get used to the strange people here. Tigris and Grandma’am would become family and not Capitol enemies. 

So quickly, your life was snatched from under you. Everything you have ever known has been replaced. Even the air felt different upon your skin. The people around you ate differently, talked differently, dressed differently. Would anything be left of you? Would you be able to keep anything of your home inside of you?

Your heart hurts to think of your mother and brother. Were you to trust Coriolanus when he said he had released them? He was likely to have had them 

released and then shot outside of the gates. How could you ensure their safety? Would he let you call them? What would it cost you?

The quiet turning of the door knob broke your train of thought. 

You wondered if it was a maid or Coriolanus but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn and look. 

You didn’t want to face either one so you closed your eyes hoping that they would leave you. 

Coriolanus did not. He gently shook your shoulder, and you rolled over from your fake sleep. 

“Good morning,” he pushes back your hair, tucking it behind your ear, “Did you sleep okay?”

You brush his hand away. Your ring scratches the skin of his hand as you do. 

“I have a doctor on standby. Are you in any pain?” 

You sit up and surprisingly find very little pain. More tightness from a muscle that had never been used before. You were quite wet already, and he was slow. Allowing you time to adjust. 

“I feel fine,” you respond, “What time is it?” 

“It’s early. I’m sorry. The sign-in is at noon, so you need to start getting dressed. Just like yesterday, some women are going to come in and help you.” 

“The same women?” You hoped not. They were so Capitol. You felt repulsed at the thought of sharing a room with them again. 

“I don’t know. Was there a problem with them yesterday?” His Commander's face was put on. A displeased stone expression that made you feel like a scolded child. 

“No.” You deny. Your eyes go to your ring that sprays out a pale rainbow from the sunlight. 

He pulls your attention back to him with a hold on your chin. 

“You’re my wife. First Lady of Panem.” 

Him calling you wife made your heart curdle. 

“You hold the power over them. If there’s an issue you need to tell me.”

“There was no issue,” you insist. 

He doesn’t push you on it.

“They will be here soon. Come outside for breakfast.”

He gives your arm a tap before rising from the bed to retrieve a warm dressing gown from the closet. 

It was soft around your body and brought a surprising amount of warmth. 

The journey to the dining room table was simple. Just past a long hallway, it opened into the living room, where to the right an elevated platform formed the dining area. 

The Snow women were not dressed as casually as you were. Fine dresses and jewels were worn for breakfast. 

You looked to Coriolanus to see he was also dressed fashionably and felt embarrassed that he had brought you out in last night's worn make-up and a dressing gown. 

The women seemed unbothered to see you. 

“Good morning, Y/N.” Tigris greeted you. 

“Good morning.” You offer back. 

Coriolanus holds out a chair for you amongst the 12 available. 

“Did you have a good time last night?” she asks. 

You looked at her and saw no vindictiveness in her eyes. It was a genuine question, offered to make you feel at ease. 

It was, in fact, the worst night of your life. But you were a stranger at her table, you would not repay her kindness with scorn. 

“Yes,” you say instead, “Did you?” 

Tigris nods her head, as she pours out coffee from a pot into the small white tea cups. 

“Bet you never saw anything like that in the Districts.” Grandma’am quipped. 

You weren’t sure if she intended for her comment to be a way of reminding you of your place, or as an encouragement to how great the Capitol could be. 

“No, I haven’t.” You agree. 

There was food displayed on the table, across a long white cover. Coriolanus picked food from and dropped it onto the gold plate in front of you. 

You had no appetite. It was all so ghastly rich. There was no need for this amount of excess. 

Coriolanus did not share your off-put. He ate his plate, while you examined the strange contents of yours. 

Grandma’am doted on her grandson. Telling stories of his younger years. He always had leadership skills, she said. His presidential future was never in any doubt. 

“Even when-” Grandma’am stopped herself, suddenly looking at and pushing her food around on the plate. 

You were eager to hear what she had to say. Even when he was sent to be a Peacekeeper? Even when he got involved with Lucy Gray? Was there something else that Coriolanus has kept hidden?

“If only your father could see you now,” she redirects, “Oh he would be so proud.” 

“We’re so proud,” Tigris states. Trying to defuse the somber mood. 

Coriolanus smiles at Tigris under her praise. 

“And you?” he asks, turning to you. 

You nod your head, unsure on what he wanted to hear. 

“Congratulations, President Snow.”  You offer. 

“It sounds right, doesn’t it?” Grandma’am squeals. 

You wait until the rest of the company has finished their breakfast between idle chatter. 

Coriolanus was on his second cup of coffee. His arm slung over the back of your chair, as he sits casually, talking to Tigris. 

He leans down to your ear, the second Tigris is occupied with Grandma’am.

“Can you eat something, please? The stylists will be here soon,” he whispers. 

 His casual demeanor returns as Tigris’s attention does. 

You follow his request, taking a bite of some sort of breakfast biscuit. It was fresh, and soft, even stone-cold. You could taste the butter in it. Real butter, not the imitation type found in the Districts. 

“I am going to miss you,” Tigris sighed. 

“We’re not staying here?” You turn to Coriolanus who had just taken another sip of his drink. 

Your stomach fills with knots thinking about a new place. You didn’t want to move. 

He swallows quickly, trying to answer you before anyone else. 

“No. We’re going to the presidential estate, but we’ll come back and visit. And you're both always welcomed at the Presidential Palace.” 

You jump as a ringing sound breaks through the air, looking around to try and see the small bell hidden in the room. 

Coriolanus’s hand comes from the back of your chair to the back of your neck. “It’s okay,” he soothes. 

He reaches for a panel of buttons built into the table and holds one in. 

“Yes?” He answers the call. 

“Mr. President, the PR team is here,” a voice spoke back. 

“Send them up.” His hand returns from you, back to the chair. 

“You don’t have long. Try to have another bite,” he commands. 

You finish the breakfast biscuit by the time the two Peacekeepers escort a whole team of people up to the penthouse. It sat heavy in your stomach. 

You see the same two women in the group. They stand side by side in ridiculous outfits. The one who had burnt you with a curling iron had a spiky, purple hat that reached tall into the sky. 

Two racks of clothing, and four big black boxes on wheels, were carted behind them. 

Coriolanus walks to the living room to greet them. They all congratulate him on his win, which he brushes off quickly to talk to the head stylist about the plan for today. They mutter between themselves, and the stylist shows Coriolanus a large book, pointing to the pictures. Coriolanus points down the hall, explaining the layout of the apartment. 

The book shuts with a heavy snap, and the stylist turns to his workers directing them to their places. 

The team split up behind Coriolanus, as he walked back over to you. 

“You’ll go back to the bedroom. I’ll use one of the spares. If there are any problems, you come and find me.” He tells you. 

You nod in response, noting that three other women follow the two women from yesterday down the hall. 

Coriolanus says goodbye to Grandma’am and Tigris, before leading you back to the bedroom where he lets you go without a word. As he closes the door behind you, the women in the room snap their attention to you. 

They all begin talking to you. Not one voice is heard but hands are felt all around you as they pull you into the bathroom. 

They bicker amongst themselves on what needs to be done first. You had many faults that needed to be fixed before the signing. Your skin wasn’t tight or dewy enough. You needed a facial, and eyelash lift. Your chipped nails were disgusting. Your hair was dull and lifeless. 

You feel vulnerable as hands dig harshly into your clothing, pulling it off your body. As you push hands away, more hands take their place. They call you difficult as you beg them to allow you to do it yourself. 

The shower is turned on too hot, you could feel the heat of it standing five feet away. 

Stripped, you notice the mess of semen still between your legs. Others notice it too and begin to giggle to themselves. Coriolanus had run a wet towel over you so you could sleep comfortably, but it wasn’t enough. 

The shower was boiling as you were pushed under it. Your skin instantly turned red. The women themselves didn’t want to get wet, standing outside of the shower screen, and pulling you by your hair to bring you closer. 

One lathers a strong-smelling liquid into your hair without much care, while another scrubs a hard brush against your skin to rid the old skin. 

It hurt as it raked across your body without soap. The woman's rings got caught in your hair as she scrubbed your head, it yanked as she pulled back. 

With a cry of pain, you are pushed back under the stream of hot water. 

You think about running to find Coriolanus, but they are here now. Another team would not be sent. He would only reprimand them, and then you would be left alone with their wrath. 

You sob instead. You should be at home. It was Wednesday. You were pretty sure. You should be at work, making idle chatter with your co-workers. 

“Wash it out!” The woman commands, “We don’t have much time.” 

Trying to appease her, you do a quick rinse under the water. 

“All of it,” she sighs. 

‘'The water’s too hot,’’ you cry. You felt like a cornered animal.

She looks at her co-workers annoyed. “Turn the water down,” she commands. 

The water is turned ice-cold but you make no further complaint. 

Another round of the strong-smelling liquid is harshly rubbed into your hair, and a nice-smelling lotion is rubbed into your skin. 

The cold water makes you shiver as you stand under it, trying to wash everything off you. 

The water is turned off leaving you standing shivering in the shower. 

“Come on” the women demanded, “hurry”. 

You go to her, and she throws a towel at you. It helps to dry the cold water off you, bringing back a little warmth. 

They watch you as you dry yourself making you feel self conscious. The attempt to cover yourself with the towel is ripped from you, and thrown to the floor. You are once again being pushed instead of asked to do something. 

You were laid flat on a table they had brought. Bare under their eye. Nothing was given so you could cover yourself. 

Five women stand above you and begin work. 

You close your eyes trying to dissociate from everything. A mask is put on your face, leaving space around your eyebrows so they can be waxed. Another oil is put on your hair and skin. 

You could hear the buzzing of the laser and feel its zap as it took the hair off your body. She scaled the length of you with the laser, paying extra attention to your most private parts. 

Only a reprimand was spoken to you as tears ran down your face. You were wasting the product with your tears. 

For a long time, you laid still against the table as they worked. Your body became sore and stiff before they told you to get up and into the bedroom.

It was there you were given back your dressing gown and placed in front of a vanity. 

The women talk amongst themselves as they work. Not one of them asks you anything. You tune them out, thinking about home. 

It felt overstimulating to have so many people working on you at once. Someone cut your hair, while the other women took one hand or one leg. They massage more oil into your skin, before shaping and painting your nails. Your ring is given a shine, and they speak about how beautiful it was. 

You feel their jealousy as they work. Your fingers were twisted into unnatural positions as they were filed. Your hair was pulled ruthlessly as it was cut. One woman stepped on your toes as she rose from the floor for some polish. 

In your head, you were at home, baking for your market stall. Your mother would keep you company in the kitchen, reading a letter from your brother. He had found someone. A nice girl, who treats him well. He wasn’t lonely anymore and had plenty to eat. Edmund was alive, and you would see him when he finished work. He would be joyed at the news that his best friend found a girl, and after dinner that night you would sit with him and draft a letter explaining your new relationship. 

It was a surprise when they all stopped to address the President. 

You turn to see Coriolanus standing in the doorway with a large mug in his hands. He had been taken from his clothes this morning and undressed into a white singlet. He had no shoes on his feet, and his dress pants still had pins in them from the tailoring. 

“It’s time for a break,” he announced. His hair appeared to be cut back, and slightly curled more. His skin glowed with treatment. 

You had never been thankful to see him until that moment. A tear slipped from your eye and you quickly wiped it away.

“Sir, we still have lots to do,” one of the stylists said. 

“Leave the room,” he commanded. 

Tools are dropped as they follow his request.

The five women pass him through the door, and he kicks it closed as the last one leaves. 

You get up from the vanities chair with a headache from all the pulling. 

“I came to check on you. Are you okay?” he says. 

The tea in his hands was a welcomed surprise. The hot shower had dehydrated you, and your crying left your throat scratchy. You take it from him and take three large gulps. 

He takes your waist into his hands once they are free from the cup. 

“Yeah,” you lie. Your voice was quiet and broken from having not spoken for a long period of time. 

The tea was hot, burning your throat as you drank it, but it was good. You broke away from his hold, going to sit on the ottoman by the bed. He followed you as you sat. 

Certain parts of your head felt like they were burning from the harsh treatment, You reached up to soothe the sore spots. Coriolanus’s hands follow yours. You knock them away, wanting nothing more than not to be touched. 

He moves onto the bed behind you, sitting with either leg by your sides. His strong fingers reach into your hair and massage your scalp. It felt nice as his fingers dug into your head so you allowed him to do it. 

You lean back into him, the hot cup burning your lap. 

“Do you want to tell me something?” he gently asks. 

His fingers press into a very sore spot on your head, causing you to wince and pull forward out of his hold. 

He doesn’t let you sit up, pulling you back by your shoulders into him. His fingers go back to your hair once more, but he rakes his nails through your hair instead of pushing in. 

He rakes his nails in a continuous backward motion, soothingly as he talks. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. That shouldn’t have hurt.” 

A gentle kiss is placed against your ear. 

“Are you alright? Do you want me to stay? I’ll stay.” He offers. 

You think about it. The women would surely be kinder with Coriolanus in the room. But you didn’t want to admit you needed him. Worse, you didn’t want to feel indebted to him. After all, it was because of him you were going through this.  

You get up from him once more, and he allows you to create distance as you go back to the vanity set. 

“Leave me alone, Coriolanus,” you demanded. 

You wipe the tears harshly away from your face, and he sits there watching you. 

A gentle knock is heard at the door. Coriolanus rises to answer it. 

“Come in,” he orders. 

The women single file in, past him. Only he stops the women who had been barking orders at everyone all day. 

You watch him in the mirror as he brings his hand down across her face.  

A gasp leaves your lips as you watch her fall to the ground from the force. 

“I entrusted her to you. If you make me regret it, I’ll make you regret it,” he warns, staring down at her with eyes that spoke of his anger. 

He steps over her and back to his room. 

“What did you say?” the woman in the purple hat hisses at you. 

“Nothing,” you admit, “I said nothing. I promise.” 

The woman who was hit gathers herself from the floor, coming over to you and pinching the skin on your arm between her long, fake nails. 

“Well say less.” she rasped. 

“It wasn’t my fault. He’s like that,” you contend, rubbing the skin she had pinched. 

“Maybe to District scum, but not to us.” 

“Your red cheek would suggest otherwise,” you sass. 

It earns you a harsh tug on your hair as it is yanked to one side.

“Just do as you are told and face forward,” she spat.

She spins you by your hair towards the mirror. No more tears fall from your eyes, but a satisfied smirk stretches across your lips. The moment had made you feel powerful. 

While their nail files dug into your skin, and your hair was gripped too tightly just to be cut, they no longer spoke. Coriolanus had scared them into silence. 

A few moments later he reappears with his own styling crew as they struggle to bring everything they need into the room. 

He sets up next to you, and under the watchful eye of Coriolanus, your stylists turn gentle. With your body done, they move to your hair and make-up. 

The large room is crowded with all the people and equipment. The head stylist tries to persuade Coriolanus back to his own room, but he would hear none of it. 

As your hair is curled and pinned into a loose bun, the iron used slipped slightly from her hands as she pinned. It burnt behind your ear, causing you to jump from the hot touch, but no sound escaped you. 

Coriolanus noticed anyway. 

“Be careful. Watch what you are doing”, he reprimanded.  

“Yes, President Snow” the woman apologizes. 

With a spray all over your hair, the woman steps back to admire her work. 

“Alright. We are fifteen minutes behind schedule. We need to get her in her dress”, the woman with the red cheek called out. 

Coriolanus was done. Only one stylist was there with him, shining his shoes. 

They lead you to the bathroom with a dress bag. 

As soon as the door was closed, one of the stylists who had remained quiet all morning began to speak. 

“Yes, President Snow,” she mocked. 

“Shut up,” the hair stylist barked. 

The dress was pulled from the bag without a wrinkle. 

It was a sweetheart, white satin, strapless gown. The bodice had pearls strung along it, and it curved up in the middle into a line of pearls. 

It was matched with a pair of white heels with pearl straps and a jacket of the same material that was only meant to go around your shoulders and not to be worn, you learned. 

The shoulders of the jacket clipped into the dress so it didn’t move.

“There,” the head woman snapped, “You’re done.” 

You quickly rushed from her presence, back out to the bedroom where Coriolanus stood alone. 

You turn back as you walk to him, expecting the woman to come from the bathroom. But they never do.

He takes you into his arms, gaining your attention from the door

“You look beautiful,” he comments. 

He did too, but you wouldn’t admit it. He wore black instead of white, but his shirt and pocket square matched the material of your dress. 

“Thank you,” you reply. 

A slight squeak of the bathroom door had you pulling back. You would hate for them to see you so cozy in his arms. But the door never opens. 

Coriolanus pulls you tight against him again, leaning down to whisper something to you. 

“Do you want me to have them killed?” He asks. 

“No,” you say, astonished that he could think of no other solution.

“It’s up to you,” he states, “Come on. We are late.” 

He leads you back to the living room where Tigris and Grandma’am stood waiting amongst the stylists packing up. 

“Give us time to settle in before you come to visit,” Coriolanus spoke to his family. He leans his tall frame down to kiss each of them. 

“Of course,” Tigris answered. After she had kissed him, she moved over to you. Wrapping her arms around your shoulder, and placing a kiss on the corner of your head. 

“We’ll see each other again soon,” she promises. 

You smile back at her before she is replaced with Grandma’am. The older woman's hug is shorter and less affectionate. 

With a final goodbye, you follow Coriolanus and a series of Peacekeepers to the elevator and down to the car park. 

A sleek black car was waiting. A driver held out the back door, and Coriolanus placed you in the car first. 

The Peacekeepers piled into a large truck. Only one sat in the front of your car with the driver.

The divider was raised so you couldn’t see them, but you could have sworn you had seen the Peacekeeper before. You wondered if Coriolanus had brought back men from District 12. 

The car ride passed through the city. You had never seen such buzz. Colors and colors flew past you. Buildings that reached the sky gleamed. Tall statues were littered across the drive. You counted seven, and a possible eighth that flew past too fast to see more than a gray figure. 

You wanted to put the window down for a better view as the tint from the window dulled some of the colors. But Coriolanus denied your request. The wind would undo the work done on your hair, and it was important that you arrived looking your best. He had promised to take you out again later with the windows down. 

When you arrived at the presidential estate, it was surrounded by supporters of Coriolanus holding banners and sticks with a picture of Coriolanus’s face attached. They waited outside of the tall gates guarded by peacekeepers. 

As the car passed them, screams and cheers deafened you. 

It got worse when you entered the gates, the screaming was matched with flashes of white light. 

Coriolanus was unbothered by it all. His focus is all on the approaching building in front of him. 

The building was grand, surrounded by meticulously kept gardens. Large Panem flags hung on flag poles on either side of the staircase that led to the entrance. A line of staff stands at the top of the staircase. All of them were dressed in expensive white material that formed around their bodies in a long coat, and pants. Gold detailing was added to the stitches and a gold pin fashioned into the Panem symbol was pinned across their chest to keep their jacket closed. 

Even the servants dressed nicer than the high society of District 12. They looked better fed too. 

The car stopped as close as it could to the stairs and Coriolanus turned to you, taking your hand in his. 

“Stay close to me. People are excited and that can cause them to act mindless.” 

The door is opened by a Peacekeeper and Coriolanus leads you along the slim path through the sea of people. 

People reach out to touch him, yelling out to gain his attention. But his mind stayed focused on the approaching building. A look of smug satisfaction and determination played across his features. You must have looked terrified as you followed him.

These people looked like animals. They frenzied around you with only a few Peacekeepers to keep them in check. 

You stay as close as you can to Coriolanus, taking the back of his shirt into your spare hand. 

The path ends as it comes to the bottom of the step. Coriolanus reaches his hand back to release you from his shirt, bringing you to stand by him as you climb the steps. 

One woman in an all-black ensemble stood out in front of the line of staff. She greeted Coriolanus as he reached her on the steps. 

“President Snow, an honor to serve you as your head of staff.”

She reached out her right hand but his right hand was latched around yours. He was hesitant to let it go.

She pauses when he doesn’t react but quickly switches out hands which Coriolanus accepts in a handshake. 

Upon realizing your importance to him, she turns to you in a curtsy. 

“And you, Mistress.” 

The crowd cheers once more for President Snow. White roses are thrown from the crowd, falling on the road and upon the bottom of the stairs. 

Peacekeepers push back against the crowd. Things were not to be thrown at the President. 

“A pleasure. Perhaps we should get inside before the crowd decides to see how close they can get.” Coriolanus suggests. 

The woman steps back, nodding her head quickly and too many times. 

“Of course. If you would follow me, I will take you to the signing.” 

The rest of the staff remain on the steps as you and Coriolanus follow the woman.

The loudness of the crowd was shut out from the big, heavy doors. It offered you two seconds of relief before taking in the vastness of the house. 

The floors were polished and matched the furniture.  A big lush thick carpet was laid out to add some warmth to the room. It was dark red and had cream accents that splayed out in intricate designs. The entryway must have been 50 feet in width and length but the red carpet covered nearly all of it. 

Both you and Coriolanus looked around in wonder. Only Coriolanus was better at hiding his amazement. He acted indifferent as the women explained the history of the house. But you could see his eyes linger on the expensive and well-decorated decor of the house. 

Staircases were everywhere, leading up and down in all different forms of design. The house was too big. It would be easy for a person to get lost but the woman led you without stumbling. 

You wonder about her. How long had she been here? Was it a choice to serve the house? 

She didn’t seem scared or upset. There were no marks upon her cream skin suggesting a lifetime of servitude. She wore make-up, and her thick, black hair was styled fashionably. But looks could be deceiving in the Capitol. 

They liked to hide behind their fine things and sharp appearances. 

She leads you into a large office. The original flag of Panem hung framed behind a large desk. The dirt and blood that had gathered on it during the war blotted the bright colors. 

Only five reporters were allowed into the room, amongst a few other important people. They all greeted Coriolanus with a firm handshake. Only one reporter was female, and she towered over the men, assisted by her six-inch heels. She looks at your ring, and you notice an absence of one on hers. 

She was too smart to get trapped by the Capitol men. 

Coriolanus thanked them for being here with his dazzling smile while you stood behind him mute, and useless. 

The women who brought you in interrupted the polite conversation between the group. 

“President Snow, it is custom to sit in the chair while signing,” she directed. 

“Yes,” Coriolanus obliged, leading you behind the large oak desk. 

You tug your hand from him as he sits. They wanted him, not you. 

A dark green plush couch with colorful cushions called out to you. You needed to sit as your legs felt like jelly. 

“President Snow, did you want the picture with or without your First Lady?” The woman reporter asked as she readied her camera. 

“With.” Coriolanus beckoned you closer but your legs would not cooperate. 

You stood until the head of staff pushed you forward. 

“Alright, dear, you stand behind your husband and don’t forget to smile. Big smile!” She commands. 

You are thankful that her hands moved you into position. The referral to Coriolanus as your husband froze you. She told you once more to smile which activated your lips into a thin smile.

“Okay, Mr. President when you’re ready,” one of the male reporters called. 

The cameras flash blinding you as Coriolanus signs his name on the parchment. 

His signature is a series of neat loops finished by a long line that curled underneath his name. 

It was official. Coriolanus Snow would now rule over Panem. With the hopes that it was over, you go to move back out of the camera frames but it only caught the attention of the journalists. 

“Mrs. Snow, how about a kiss for the President?” One of the reporters called out. The comment frenzied the rest who shouted out encouragements. 

Coriolanus turns out to you in his chair, permitting you to follow the command. 

So you do. Bending down to his height and placing a kiss on his lips. He steadies you with a hand on the side of your face so that the kiss deepens. 

The cameras liked that. You pull away, but Coriolanus' hand keeps you in place. 

His thumb brushes against the lipstick that had smudged getting rid of it before wiping his hand over his mouth. 

A make-up artist comes over to him, helping him to rid the lipstick off his face and reapplying power from a compact. 

“Okay, can we get a shot of just the President staring down the lens with the flag in the background?” The woman once more directs. 

You move quickly out of the way as the journalists kneel on the floor for the shot, and point their cameras up. 

You find comfort on the couch and watch as Coriolanus is directed for the magazine shots. 

When he is not directed to stare into a camera his eyes are on you, making sure that you are still in the room. 

A deep regret sets on your posed photos. You should have said no. Coriolanus would be too cautious to correct you in front of what constituted the entirety of Panem. You could have gotten away with it. Now your family was sure to see the photos of you happily smiling behind him. Kissing him, with a diamond ring on your finger. 

What would Edmund's family think? Your own family would think of you as a traitor. What would the family who lost everything due to you think? Edmund was keeping them afloat. How would they get by now? Would your brother take care of them as Edmund took care of his family? Would they accept the help of a traitor's brother?

Coriolanus stands from the desk in front of the reporters. 

“As you can imagine, yesterday was a long day. If you are satisfied with the photos I would like to settle in with my new wife.” 

“Of course, Mr. President,” was the resounding response. 

He comes to collect you on the couch as the head of staff briefs the people in the room on what is to happen now. 

“No one is to leave this room. Peacekeepers will come and escort you out. You and your equipment will be searched before you are released back to your firm. The President thanks you for your time and service to your country.” 

Coriolanus brings your arm to loop through his as you follow the woman back out into the vast space of the house. 

She takes you up a large, twin staircase back at the main entrance of the house, and along a corridor lined with a long carpet. At the very end came a double-door entrance that stretched from the very bottom, all the way to the top. 

This was the President's quarters. She unlocks the door with a key that was passed to Coriolanus, and swings open the doors so you can see the space. 

Another enormous space was filled with plush rugs and expensive furniture. Back home a house consisted of the bare necessities. In the Capitol, they had space for every activity and filled it with unnecessary furniture. 

A breakfast nook, a long dinner table, a sitting area, a living room, a walk-in coat closet, two full bathrooms, a tall wine fridge, and a set-up bar were all contained within the floor. A staircase that led up suggested that there was more to the living space. 

The woman asks if she can do anymore, but Coriolanus assures her there is nothing to be done but rest now. 

She shows Coriolanus a button he could push to call for a servant before bidding him goodbye. 

He was quick to shut the door behind her as you wandered into the apartment. 

“What do you think?” He asks. 

“People live like this?” You run a hand over a soft blanket draped over the couch. 

“I never have,” he admits. 

 From a war-ruined boy, to a Peacekeeper, to Commander of District 12, Coriolanus lived far from the luxury of the Capitol. 

He got nights of Capitol living when he came to visit from District 12 but his home had always been rat-infested slums. 

“It’ll feel more like home when you settle in, and make it your own.”

“It’ll never feel like home,” you remark snidely. 

Coriolanus picks up a small decorative statue and examines it. 

“Well not your home back in District 12, but your home in the Capitol.” 

He places the statue back down and holds out his hand for you to take. 

“Shall we see upstairs?” 

Upstairs was as impressive as down. Six spare bedrooms each with their own bathrooms and ready for guests, a sizable private study that conjoined to a lavish sleeping arrangement. 

You open the doors to your closet to find that it already had been filled with clothing. A pair of comfortable-looking pants and a singlet call out to you, and you ask Coriolanus if you could change. 

He gives you permission, telling you that he was going to look around the estate but he would be back soon. 

The bathroom had heated tiles which helped to keep you warm as you tried to figure out the shower. There was a pad with buttons that had too many commands to work.

You finally figure it out with pure luck and a heavy stream of water shoots out from the shower head. 

You shower off the make-up and hair spray. Some glitter that had been dusted on your skin had to be scrubbed off which left you red, and pruny from the time it took. 

Another battle to turn off the water, before you could reach for a white fluffy towel off the rack. It was warm too from the heated rack.

With Coriolanus gone, you explored the room. Everything was set up as if you already lived here. 

You find a book about the history of Panem in the bookcase and flick through it. It talked about the Dark Days. How District people were dangerous and out to ruin Capitol life. 

Large black and white pictures taken during the war were displayed in large form across the page. The Capitol during the war looked like District 12 now. 

The next page showed a photo of rebels being lined up to be shot. The page after that had a photo of a man. A general during the war. The name shocked you. 

General Crassus Snow. He looked a little like Coriolanus. Same blonde hair and blue eyes, but without the name, you wouldn’t have known.

A hero they called him. It turned out Coriolanus wasn’t lying to you when he said his father was killed in 12. You wondered how that must have felt for him, to go back there and rule over the place that left him fatherless. 

A little blurb read that Crassus Snow was known to have an excellent head for strategy and nerves of steel. With a commanding presence that rose him quickly through the military ranks before he was cowardly killed in an ambush. 

Coriolanus had followed in his father’s footsteps. The page could have been Coriolanus' autobiography. 

Your fingers trace the photo of the man standing tall in his uniform. If he was alive, you doubt he would have let Coriolanus get involved with you. But he wasn’t, and you were here, trapped in the Capitol, while he was buried somewhere in District 12. 

You continue with the book, scoffing as they skew history to fit their narrative. War was never one-sided. 

You hear him as he enters the study. The door was heavy and loud. 

Expecting him to appear, you continue flipping through the pages of the book. 

But time passes with no appearance.

You finish the book and go to find out what he is doing. 

Taking the side door, you could see his back as it faced a large painting on the far wall. You knew from school that the picture was of the past President Ravenstill.

He gazes at the portrait with his hands clasped behind his back. 

“Coriolanus?” You call. It breaks his concentration, and he unhooks himself from his rigid posture to extend his hand out to you. But he never faces away from the painting. 

You rush to accept his hand, looking up at the painting with him. There was nothing special about it. An oil painting that depicted a hateful man in a powerful position. 

But something about it captivates Coriolanus. 

“Are you alright?” you ask. His broody eyes normally meant bad things for you.

“You see this?” He bends his forehead to your level and points to a faint scar on the top corner of his head. 

“During the war, I went looking for scraps around the Presidential palace. I found a great big bucket full of half-eaten bones with meat still on them just sitting there over the fence, so I reached my hand in to try and get one. I was found by a Peacekeeper who informed me that the President said they were for his dogs and left me with a scar from the butt of his rifle.” 

He looks away from you and back to the painting. You were grateful for it. There was a darkness in his eyes that scared you. 

“Now I am the man in the palace,” he mutters. 

“I am sorry that happened to you.” 

He smiles at your words. Pity was something he wanted from no one but you. 

“You can do a lot of good, Coriolanus,” you temper with a squeeze to his hand. 

He nods his head in agreement, “I will. The Capitol will flourish under me.”

“You could do good in the Districts too. You saw the disadvantages there.”

His grip around your hand tightened, and his jaw locked in place. The painting was no longer of any interest. You now bore his intense stare. 

“I saw a bunch of animals clawing at each other to get ahead. You should be thankful that I saved you.”

“Saved me?” You questioned. 

He had not saved you from a burning building but taken you from your bed at night. 

“It wouldn’t have been long before the animals tore into you.”

The hold on your hand loosens and he takes a step back from you. 

“I’ll ring down for lunch.” He disappears from the room, leaving you in front of the painting. That night it was replaced with one of Coriolanus. The painting of him was still wet but hung proudly in the room. 

The next morning after a luxurious breakfast you went straight back to bed and stayed there until Coriolanus returned home. 

You had no idea if he locked the door on his way out, you never checked. There was nothing out there for you. No family or friends to shield you in their arms. No familiar faces, or sense of community. 

Tigris and Grandma’am visited on the weekend, wanting to be shown around. But you only knew the bed, and Coriolanus spent too many hours at the official office downstairs to know the little details of the apartment. The head of staff was called again to show the group around the property. It took nearly half an hour to explore the place. 

Grandma’am was too old to do that much walking but she wouldn’t slow down. She had dreamt about this day, longer than Coriolanus had. She held on to him as he assisted her in walking, and you held her handbag. 

They stayed for coffee and cake which delighted Coriolanus. You spoke very little, even as Tigris tried to coax a conversation out of you. The crushing weight of defeat was hindering your ability to be social. 

When they left, you got an earful from Coriolanus, who was disappointed in your behavior. All was forgiven, however, when the lights turned off and you were alone in bed with him.

The staff thought it was odd when you insisted that you would do the cleaning and cooking for yourself and Coriolanus. He took great pride in it. Feeling as if it was a testimony of your love. But in truth, your days were so much longer without it.

Sometimes there were visitors from the Academy or acquaintances from high society. Grandma’am and Tigris came over consistently but most of the time you were left completely alone. 

For a brief period, while the facilities for you to cook and clean were installed, you lived back in the Snow Penthouse. 

You enjoyed other company besides Coriolanus. One night after he was finished with you, you asked him if home could be here instead of the Presidential Palace. 

He gave a laundry list of reasons as to why that wouldn’t be possible. The Presidential Palace was safer. It was the place where the President and the First Lady were supposed to live. Besides he didn’t want Tigris, and Grandma’am around while he adjusted to married life. You knew it all boiled down to the fact he simply didn’t want to. 

—------------------

The night you return to the Presidential Palace, he comes to bed with a stack of papers.

“Look,” he leans closer to you, holding out a bit of paper that you couldn’t read under the sporadic flashes of light from the Tv. 

“My first official act as President. Schools will now provide breakfast and lunch free of charge for every school student.”

“I thought children in the Capitol never had to worry about food”. 

“Some do,” he responds, “There are poorer and richer classes in the Capitol too. Not to the extent of the Districts, but we have our own troubles in the Capitol.” 

The Capitol people, no matter how poor, were not treated like animals, and terrorized by a militant group. They were still Capitol, and thus worthy of respect. 

“And university is free for those in the top 10% of their cohort. I’ll make the announcement first thing tomorrow morning.”

“That’s wonderful” you praise, although you cared little for the new change. 

He felt as if the bill would rewind the clock. Damn the Hunger Games, and the Plinth Prize. If he could bury the mistakes of his past, they never happened. 

—----------------

Coriolanus grew desperate for a baby after his first month of presidency. He wished he had gotten you pregnant back in District 12 so he could have a baby halfway through his first term. But he didn’t dwell on the past when he could focus on the future. 

He tried desperately every night to put a baby in you, but nothing stuck.

He grew worried that time in the Districts had made you barren. After a very uncomfortable examination by a doctor who assured him that you were able to bear children, but simply have not. 

The thought of children made you feel sick. You had no idea how you would manage it on top of everything. You did not want his children, but how could you stop him? He was the one who decided your future. 

Every morning he would wait outside of the bathroom door for you to do a test. You would bring a negative result back, and his face would sag. 

His frustration was rough in form. Since election night, fun was the only objective for Coriolanus. But as his want for a child grew, teasing and pleasing you were secondary to his need. Again and again, in the same night, he would manhandle you in positions he thought were best. They left him with a sore wife and no baby to show for it. 

A doctor had suggested that extreme stress can disrupt the ovulation cycle making it difficult to plan strategic timing of sex. This had annoyed Coriolanus greatly. You went on only a few official obligations in which you stayed by Coriolanus. You were fed, clothed, and rested. There was no extreme stress in your life that would hinder you from his baby. 

You verbally agreed with his rant but laughed in private at his delusional hissy fit. 

Every night when he was finished, he would sleep thinking tomorrow he would wake with good news. 

One day he did. He was getting ready to go down to the office, waiting for you to present him with the test. 

You expect the same as before, but as you expect the test, you notice an instant difference. 

Scrambling for the box, you check the instructions. A cold shot through you as you looked back to see the indication of pregnancy. 

In hope you take another one. 

Coriolanus knocks on the door, telling you he has to leave soon. 

You don’t care, you stare at the test waiting for a negative result. 

It appeared the same as the other.

Coriolanus calls out again. On auto-pilot, you unlock the door and show him the test. He knew from your expression that it was positive but he looks anyway. 

He kisses you deeply, but you can’t move against him. You were going to be a mother. Die nursing Coriolanus’s babies. 

“A baby,” he says joyously. He brings his hand to your stomach and smiles, “A Snow.” 

He ushers you back into bed, and calls for a maid to come tend to you while he is at work. All day you only move to throw up once. 

The maid annoys you all day by asking you to do things. You just wanted to cry in bed without an audience. 

As soon as the news was announced, floods of gifts came piling into the apartment. Designer clothes, a gold crib, flowers, and chocolate were sent for you. You threw them all out. 

Every day you spend organizing and putting away presents only for more to come. 

If you had thought your life was miserable before pregnancy, your life was unbearable while you were pregnant. Coriolanus was anxious about losing the baby. 

The whole nine months at breakfast each morning a doctor checked for any complications. It made it difficult to eat which frustrated you as you woke every morning with great hunger. Only to throw it up again by mid-morning. 

You were young and healthy so the pregnancy was low risk. Due to the rations in the Districts, your iron was low, but with your meals now being made by qualified chefs and nutritionists it quickly came back up to an acceptable level. 

Coriolanus insisted that everything was a risk. Cooking over a hot stove, or bending to clean.  You came to work with him like you did at the Compound. It was then you realized that he was more worried about you self-sabotaging the pregnancy than he was about the chemicals in cleaning products. 

You grew big and uncomfortable. With the hormones raging in your body you would cry randomly during the day. One time when Tigris came to drop off the baby clothes she had made you, Coriolanus insisted she stayed for tea in the garden. 

It was a beautiful day, and you had company other than Coriolanus. It was one of your better days. But upon seeing a dead baby bird at the edge of the garden, you began to cry uncontrollably. 

You resisted Coriolanus' hold as he shouted for the bird to be taken away. The scene greatly shocked Tigres who quickly left when Coriolanus returned you to your room. 

In addition to the mood swings, your baby kicked all day long giving you little rest. It took a toll on your appearance, leaving you looking half-dead.

Everywhere you turned someone was handing you a pillow and a blanket or offering you food. You felt like the main attraction at a circus. The only good thing about the pregnancy was that no meant no.

Coriolanus was far more respectful of your boundaries. All you had to put up with was his interactions with his unborn child. He liked to speak to it in your stomach and feel it kick. On daily walks for the baby's health, he would hold the bump as he accompanied you around the grounds. He was excited to be a father but you were terrified of being a mother in an entirely different world than your own. 

Both you and Coriolanus attended parenting classes to help with the transition. Even raising babies was different in the Capitol. Mothers were not supposed to leave the house for 40 days after the birth. District women went back to work before the week was out. 

The teachers talked about safe sleeping practices in a cot, District babies slept in a basket cushioned with rags. 

Special food was designed for every stage of toddler life here. Babies back home ate what was available. 

The classes made you grateful that your child was Capitol. At least you could give them a happy, comfortable life.

Coriolanus would ensure the best for his child that you were sure of. 

—--------

Nine months passed quickly. One early morning you woke up in a great deal of pain. Coriolanus was still asleep next to you. You knew the baby was ready to come, but you were not ready for the baby. 

You try to delay the baby. The midwife said you had another week. 

A hot bath stops the pain for a little while, but the sound of running water wakes Coriolanus. You’re in the bath for thirty minutes before he rises from bed to join you.

He doesn’t knock as he enters. There was a time when you would have tried to cover up, but those days were long gone.

Coriolanus kneels by the bathtub and places a hand on your rounded stomach. 

“Kicking, is he?” Coriolanus asks. 

“Yeah. Something like that,” you state. 

“He’s just excited to be here next week.” 

As if it was a call to action, your stomach begins to contract painfully tight. You wince, trying hard to keep a sound from coming out. 

“Are you alright?” He asks with concern. 

“Yes. Can you help me out of the tub?” 

The plug is pulled by twisting a round knob to your left, and the water drains quickly. 

He helps you out of the tub gently, wrapping you in a towel and helping you walk to your wardrobe. 

All of your pregnancy clothes were loose dresses that fell down to your ankles. You picked a light blue one but as the fabric fell around your body, your stomach gave a harsh twist. It felt as if your stomach muscles were being pulled from your stomach. 

You feel Coriolanus place a hand on your back. 

“I’ll call for the doctor,” he says. 

The doctor and his nurses had been moved into the presidential palace for the pregnancy. Coriolanus wanted to be sure that if anything went wrong, a team of experts was at hand. 

“No,” you moan, “He’s just moving that’s all.” 

The next contraction had you yelling and kneeling over in pain. 

“Is he coming?” His voice carried an excitement that could only be found in a person not about to give birth. 

“To the bed,” he demands, “Come on.” 

The team is quickly called up, bringing with them scary-looking machines. Your doctor had previously explained what they did and how he would deliver the baby. But none of it mattered now. You were terrified. 

Coriolanus only left your side to get dressed. The labor was nearly fourteen hours, during which Coriolanus held your hand and waited for the contractions to get closer together. 

He tried his best to make you comfortable. Hard pillows were brought in for you so you could sit up, and he held a water bottle close, ready for you. 

As you enter the second stage of labor, the pain intensifies as your body gets ready for the push. Your fear spikes, knowing that a baby would soon be placed in your care. 

“No, no,” you mutter. This wasn’t supposed to be like this, You were supposed to be married to the love of your life, and have your mother to coach you through this. 

“You’re alright, darling. He is almost here,” Coriolanus dabbed an ice-cold rag over your forehead as he spoke. 

“No,” you state more forcibly, “I want my mother.”

“Mrs. Snow, you need to start pushing,” the doctor instructs. Your body pushes automatically, causing a painful groan to resound around the room. 

Coriolanus gives you words of encouragement but they buzz in your ear. The sound of your mother's name coming from your lips was the only thing you heard.  

“You don’t need her. Just keep going.” He soothes. 

You scream at the pain. The room felt as if it was on fire around you, but you knew it was cold outside. The world began to blur, the beeping of the machines and talk of the medical team lapped. 

You look towards the doorway as your body begins to push again. You swear you see your mother peeking in. 

“Mum!” you scream, “Mum, please, don’t leave me.”

“No, No.” Coriolanus consoles. 

“No. Coriolanus, I want my mother. Where’s my brother?” You ask in a state of panic that brings tears to your eyes. 

“Mrs. Snow, push.” The doctor bids. 

“No!” you scream back, “Not without my mum.”

“Mrs. Snow, this baby is coming. You don’t have time,” the doctor says. 

“Push,” Coriolanus tells you. 

“Please, Coriolanus, please,” you beg. All you wanted was to see her. If he didn’t want you to speak that would be fine. You just needed to see your mother as you delivered your first child.

“What have you done?” You sob, looking at his worried face. 

“I haven’t done anything,” he defends, “You need to start pushing.”

Pain ripples through your body and you push to ease it. 

Three big pushes that burn, and suddenly the pressure in your stomach is gone. 

A loud cry fills the room, in constellation with your heavy panting. 

The crying buddle is brought to you by the doctor, but you push his hands away. One peak at his light blonde hair had you feeling sick. He was supposed to have dark hair like Edmund’s. He was supposed to be Edmund’s child. 

Instead, the child was given to Coriolanus who accepted him into his arms. 

“Coriolanus, where is my mother?” You ask. 

“She’s not here. You know that,” he answers. 

Still, you scream for her to save you. 

“Commander Snow, please! Just let me see her,” you beg. 

He looks down at you puzzled, with the screaming child in his arms. 

Despite feeling as if you had been hit by a train, you attempt to rise which is discouraged by everyone in the room.

 Coriolanus steps forward to stop you, but won’t release his hands from his son. 

You feel the pressure from the nurses on your shoulder as they press you back into the mattress. 

“Sir, can I administer a sedative to calm her?” a nurse asks. 

Coriolanus nods at the nurse, and she inserts a needle into your IV drip. 

“Get off. No!” You try to tug against the IV connection, but your hands are pinned down. 

“Mum!” you shout, “Archie!” 

The sedative works fast. You soon find yourself unable to hold your head up. The fight kicked out from under you. 

You watch as Coriolanus holds tight to the small blanket. 

“Commander, please.” You mumble, but hear no response as you slip into a deep sleep.  

—-----------

When you wake it feels as if each limb has been torn from your body, and you have been hastily stitched together again. 

The room is blurred but your eyes are opened. You could feel their sting as you failed to blink. 

You had a son, you think, but where is he? Why can’t I hear him crying?

With newfound motivation you will yourself to get your bearings. 

Your muscles move at your control once more, and your eyes focus on the lamp on the table. 

As you regain control, you hear footsteps by the end of the bed. Your head rolls on the pillow to see Coriolanus as he stands over a bassinet, still for a second, before he reaches down and picks up your baby, wrapped tightly and swaddled. 

You wanted to call out and demand that he place your baby back down but you were still hazy from the drugs. You're too slow to gain back your voice. 

He sits in a nearby rocking chair with the baby tightly in his arms, beginning to rock gently as he gazes down at the small bundle. 

The baby fusses slightly but is soon soothed back to sleep. 

Seeing your baby in no harm, you try and sit up 

“Coriolanus,” you call. His eyes shoot up to watch you as you rise into a sitting position but go back to your baby as he speaks. 

“Take it easy. He’s okay,” he consoles. 

“Is he healthy?” You ask. 

Coriolanus smiles down at his son, as he rocks back and forth. 

“He’s perfect. I’ve named him, Crassus Alexander Snow, after my father.”

You hate that your son is named after the man in the book. You hate that Coriolanus has named him without your approval. Your son wasn’t a doll for him to play with. He had taken enough from you, now it felt as if he was after your son too. 

“You named him?” Your voice was hard with your displeasure. 

“I had to. The nurses needed a name. Don’t worry you can have the next one.”

The next one. Not even 24 hours after an excruciating labor, and he was talking about the next one. 

Looking around, you see that you only felt like you had just given birth. The machines, apart from your IV drip next to you, had been taken back. The bed was fresh under you, and you had been changed into comfortable pajamas.  

You lean back into the bed, silent. This was not how you pictured your first child. You wanted your mother and brother to see him.  

You picture seeing them again. Just one last time to say goodbye. 

The thought of it makes you break the silence you otherwise never would have broken. 

“Coriolanus, do you think I could write to my mother to let her know I had a child?” You ask quietly. 

He is quiet which worries you. Your mother would know when the Capitol news circulated through the District, but you were hoping to at least let her know you tried to tell her. 

“Yes, you should,” he finally spoke.

He gets up from the rocker and walks slowly towards your bed. 

“Here, do you want to hold him?” 

You open your arms for Coriolanus to place your son into. 

He fits perfectly and doesn’t wake.

You stare at him. He didn’t feel like your son. Crassus was a small baby, with light blonde hair. Not how you imagined him. 

Coriolanus lays on the bed next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders so he could bring you close. 

“Thank you,” he says, “I know how scared you were. You called for your mother. Do you remember?”

You were hoping that he wouldn’t mention it. That it could just be something that happened and then forgotten.

“Did I?” you fawn. 

You're careful to keep your eyes on your son, and not to look anywhere that could gain Coriolanus's attention. 

He captures it anyway by bringing your chin up to his height. 

“You did so well, and I am so proud of you,” he praises. He places a quick kiss on your lips before drawing his head back. 

“I love you.” He states. His eyes look at you expecting. 

“I love you too, Coriolanus.”

You never know if the letter you write is sent home. No return was ever given. 

—--------------

A week later your baby boy lay between you and Coriolanus on the bed. He was sleeping after you had just fed him. It took a while for you to feel connected to him but now a mother's bond was established, and you could watch him sleep for hours. 

Coriolanus ran his finger down the side of his baby's face and down to his little belly, rubbing soothing circles to try and help him digest the milk. 

“He’s beautiful, isn’t he?” Coriolanus spoke to you but kept his gaze on his child. 

“Yes,” you agree. 

You wished your mother could see your baby. To hold him as is her right as a grandmother. You had wanted to ask Coriolanus, but you knew the answer. Still, you had to ask. Maybe he would be kinder to you after birthing his child. 

“Coriolanus, I was wondering if I might be able to take him back home to see my family?”

His eyes shot up at you. The answer was more than no, it was how dare you. 

“Don’t you ever ask me that again.” he seethes. 

You held little hope that he would agree so his denial hurt less. 

“Can we video call them?” you try to compromise.

“No,” his answer was hard and cold, “Put him in his bassinet and come back.” He commanded. 

Crassus’s bassinet was only at the end of your bed. Coriolanus wanted to keep him close. 

Your baby stirs as you gently pick him up but settles back into his mother's arms. He was so milk-drunk that the normal fight to set him into his bassinet was won with a gentle rock. 

You knew you were in trouble with Coriolanus. The only time you had wished that your baby fought sleep was so you could avoid Coriolanus’ wrath. 

He holds his tongue until you are back lying next to him. 

“I don’t want you speaking about your family ever again. I don’t want our son to know that you are District. Think about them if you must, but if you continue to speak about them, I will have them killed.” 

“They are my family,” you spat. 

“We are your family. Us. Your son and your husband.”

You get up from next to him, even though you know you shouldn’t. 

“Lay back down,” he demands. 

“I’ve done everything you have asked of me,” you snivel, “Gone to every event where they look at me like a trained animal. Cooked your meals, washed your clothes. Gave you a son, just like you wanted.” 

Your voice was wobbly and raised. The hormones that were still raging through your body from birth trapped you between uncontrollable sadness and an unquenchable fury. 

“Be quiet. You’ll wake Crassus,” Coriolanus scolded. 

“I don’t care!” You yell. 

Coriolanus looks to the bassinet at the end of the bed, expecting his son to wake, crying. 

All is silent. You lower your voice as you continue speaking. If you upset Crassus all conversation would stop. 

“Crassus doesn’t have to come. I can have a one-hour phone call a month without him. He doesn’t have to know, but I can’t live like this.” 

His eyes snapped to you as he lay in the bed. “Can’t live like this? I have given you a life so terrible that you can’t bear it?”

He rises from the bed, and you take a step back. You were in a bad condition after birth. There was no way you could defend yourself against him. 

“Nothing I do for you is ever good enough for you” he exclaims. His eyes squint at you but his voice is calm and collected, “You know how dangerous it was for me to help you in 12? A Commander, and a District girl. How that looked for me in my presidential run? But I didn’t care. From the day I met you, I have looked after you. And you want me to feel in debt to you, because why? You cook the food I give you? Wash the clothes I buy? Birthed a beautiful son that you never would have had without me.” 

“You didn’t ‘take care of me’, Coriolanus. You took me. I never asked for any of it. I want to go home to my family.”

Coriolanus stood across from you, his face unmoving and hard. 

“You’re right. Family is important,” he suddenly says. His face relaxes, and body unwinded. 

He moves quickly to the end of the bed where Crassus lies. 

“Your brother had a child. A little girl, named after you,” he rocks the bassinet gently despite his threatening words. 

“You want to see her? I can bring her here,” he taunts. 

“No,” you whisper. 

“No? All this talk of family, and the answer is no?’’ 

He looks down at his sleeping baby, checking for any signs of distress. 

“I could bring them all here. They could work in the presidential estate. You’re the only one who doesn’t have to earn their keep”.

You imagine them dressed in the same white uniforms as the other servants. How much control Coriolanus would have over their lives daily. 

“That’s not what I am asking,” you state. 

“You’re asking to have your family around you, and I couldn’t agree more. Unless you don’t consider them family?” 

“Well?” he pushes after a moment of silence. 

“No.”

“Who do you consider family then?”

“You and Crasuss,” you gave the answer he wanted to hear. 

“That’s right!” He cooed, running a hand over Crassus’s head, “Just us. All you need is us.”

He straightens once more, giving his full attention back to you. 

“I am not asking you to be grateful, but I will not allow you to be thankless,” he shoves his hands in his pockets in a casual manner. 

“You should sleep as he sleeps,” he suggests. He wanted the fight to be over, and the newborn bliss to continue. 

“Lay back down, and go to sleep. No more talk of Districts.”

He leaves you in the room with your son, retreating from any further fighting. 

You wondered if it was true. Did Archie have a baby? 

Some part of you hoped it was true, and that she would fill the void of you in their lives. Just as Crassus filled the void for you. 

—-----------

With the success of Crasuss, Coriolanus was eager to have another one. You were still getting used to motherhood. You weren’t sure if you could deal with this one, let alone another one. 

Coriolanus stayed home with you for the 40 days that you were supposed to be on bed rest. He was up late with work, and then during the night with Crasuss. 

He tried to give you as much rest as he could. But Crassus needed you for feedings, and sometimes he would only settle if he was in your arms. 

Coriolanus was unversed in assessing others' needs. He would bounce Crassus when he needed to be held, change his diaper when he needed to be fed, and give him toys that were too old for him. 

He couldn’t decipher his cries like you could, leaving him frustrated. 

You knew he tried, which was more than you expected of him. 

You wake from the sound of your son crying from what feels like a two second nap. Coriolanus tried to prolong it for you by trying to soothe the baby himself. 

“He needs to be burped,” you tell Coriolanus, “Put him up on your shoulder and pat his back.”

He had only just fed so you knew it was just tummy pain. 

Coriolanus does as you say. Crassus settles as he is put upright but no burp comes. 

“It’s not working,” Coriolanus panics. Every little thing the doctor was to be called to check it out. 

“Keep going,” you encourage. 

Coriolanus sighs in relief when Crassus lets out a little burp and returns to being a happy baby. 

“You’re good at this,” he commented, “ A natural.” 

He always knew you would be, but to see it in action filled him with great joy and admiration. 

You huff in response, closing your eyes to go back to sleep. 

Coriolanus had to go back to his usual duties, leaving you with the full responsibilities of being a mother. 

It was overwhelming to have no one else to talk to but a baby. You spent your days in the apartment which drove you crazy. 

You eye the door. Coriolanus never told you to stay in the apartment. It was just an assumption you made. You knew you would never get outside of the gates, but you would settle for the gardens. 

With your baby in your arms, you cautiously twist the knob. 

There is no booby trap as you step out. No alarm rings. So you continue your journey. 

You vaguely remember the way from when you were out of the apartment with Coriolanus. 

A maid was polishing the wood of the staircase you needed to go down. You curse but try to act casual as you approach her. 

“Mrs. Snow,” the maid seemed surprised to see you, “Can I do something for you?” 

“No. I am just going to the gardens,” you justify. 

You walk quickly away from her. You hear her calling your name but you don’t stop. 

The house is large and echos as you make your way across it. The entrance out into the gardens was almost hidden. 

You wanted to run, but you were careful not to shake your baby too much. 

The big door comes into view. A sense of excitement and apprehension overcame you. You had never been outside of the Presidential quarters without Coriolanus. Now you were stepping outside. It felt as if you were gaining some independence back. 

When you open the door, you are confronted with a Peacekeeper, who stands aside out of your way. 

You thank him as you move past him, but he follows wordlessly as you cross the field. 

The maid had called the Peacekeeper on you, who called Coriolanus on you, and Coriolanus had told the Peacekeeper to keep an eye on what you were doing.

You find a spot under a tree in the lowest field, the Peacekeeper stands ten feet away to give you and your baby some privacy. 

You play with your baby in the short grass. He liked the feeling of it.

Some maids come, bringing a picnic blanket, and a glass of lemonade. 

You thank them although you wanted none of their assistance. 

Crassus has some tummy time listening to the birds. You lay back on the grass and watch the sun as it goes down. It was comforting to know that your mother and brother would be looking at the same sun. As far away as they were, at least something still connected you. 

You tell Crassus about them and he babbles back as if he was trying to talk. You tell him about Edmund in the prime of his life. You don’t discuss Edmund’s death or his father's involvement. 

You begin to explain District 12 to him just as the sun disappears behind the trees, when you hear the Peacekeeper stand to attention in greeting. You shut up immediately.

“It’s time to come inside” Coriolanus’s voice is heard. 

He picks his son up and places him on his shoulder after a quick kiss. 

You get up with the blanket and cup as you follow him back to the house. 

Coriolanus takes the items from you and gives them to the Peacekeeper in passing. 

“Look at this,” Coriolanus pulls out a small doll from his pocket,  “A senator's little girl gave it to me. She was so cute. We should try for a girl next.” 

You still had four weeks before the doctor gave you the go-ahead to engage in intercourse. But you knew Coriolanus would push the limits on that time frame. 

“I want to wait at least a year before another one,” you tell him. 

It already was so difficult, you wouldn’t survive having to care for another one. 

“No,” Coriolanus protested, “I would like a girl before the years out.”

You knew how obsessive Coriolanus could be when he had a thought trapped in his head. You also knew that nothing you said was going to change his mind. 

You wait until Crassus is asleep, and your shift with Coriolanus starts. 

He was waiting for you like he usually is. After Crassus was asleep, it was his turn to have his wife. 

He had opened a bottle of wine and was flicking through the tv channels. It surprised him when you dropped to your knees in front of him. 

Your hands reach for his trousers, and he eagerly helps you to take them off. During pregnancy he didn’t want to force you to do anything, thinking that it might harm the baby. After he was born, there was a recovery period that he had to wait through. It left Coriolanus pent up and hungry for your touch. 

Your lips were warm on him and worked so well. 

After all of your experience, you knew what Coriolanus liked. You swatted his hands off you as he tried to take control. He relents, bringing his hands to his thighs in a tight grip. 

You feel it grow in your mouth with your attention. It twitches under your tongue and you knew it as a sign he was close.

Just as he is reaching his high, you drag your lips back and off. 

He gasps as you do, throwing his head back onto the couch. 

“What are you doing?” He groans. He was irritated, which was not your desired effect. 

“Crassus turns one before another baby,” you demand. 

His hands curl into the couch as he counters, “Eight months.” 

You move to get up but his hands stop you, “Okay, okay, a year. Just finish.” He begs. 

You do finish him off, with the smug satisfaction that Coriolanus Snow is just a man. 

The day Crassus turns one, Coriolanus keeps you to your bargain. 

Coriolanus was determined to have a girl. Clothes and bows had already been brought. 

While Capitol technology allowed you to artificially change the sex of your baby, Coriolanus was more interested in conceiving the natural way. 

He researched old myths to increase his chances, and he tried all of them. 

He made you drink lemon juice before sex. He initiated sex on even days of the week. You were on a diet of fish, eggs, and vegetables. And you had to leave your legs raised for a couple of minutes after he was finished. 

You were slow to conceive like you were with Crassus. But one of the old wives' tales worked, for nearly nine months after Crassus turned one, you fell pregnant with a baby girl. 

You named her Aurora meaning dawn. A silent homage to your family back home, and the sun that connects you. 

—-------------------- 

Having children strangely settled you. You had five children in total within years of each other.  Your fifth child was your last. After you had lost too much blood during the birth of your next boy, Coriolanus put off plans to have a sixth. It scared him, seeing you so pale, laying half dead in a bed like his mother. The goal of children was to bring you closer, not to use you up. 

They gave your life purpose and little room to think about anything else but their needs. As they grew, you got more freedom to explore the city. Always under an army of guards. Coriolanus wanted them to have a full life, even if it meant granting you  access to be far from him. 

His children were not to miss out on anything the Capitol had to offer. Their names were on the top of the list for any attractions, child star concerts, and plays. The world was at their fingertips, and you got to experience Capitol life through them. 

He went when he could but his work was demanding. In his absence, a team of Peacekeepers escorted you and your kids around the Capitol. 

Despite his many faults, Coriolanus was a doting father. His children were first, sometimes before you. Where once his hold was tight around you all night, now you wake to find that one of your children had escaped their bed and taken your place. 

You always worried about his temper. He hasn’t hit you in years. You figure it was partly because you gave him little reason to, and partly because if you weren’t physically holding a child in your arms, you had one in your belly. 

But as your children grew would they be in the same danger as you if they acted out?

They all had the signature blonde hair of a Snow, but only the firstborn had Coriolanus’s blue eyes. Your other two boys and girls had your eyes. Something to tell you that they weren’t all Coriolanus. 

Date night normally consisted of an official event. They were far and few between as Coriolanus preferred you to be home with the babies. He disliked nannies but conceded to their usefulness. 

Tonight was a charity event to raise money for a new public swimming pool. Vapid and silly. At this stage, only Crassus and Aurona were born to be left crying as you tried to leave for the event. 

They were not used to being parted from you, and you were not used to being parted from them. 

“It’s okay,” you hush, “Mummy will be back soon, and she will check on you.”

Aurora was too young to know what your words meant. Her only cue that something was wrong was Crassus as he screamed. 

“No, Mummy, no!” His face was bright red from tears. You worried that he was short on breath from his screaming. 

He knew when you dressed up, you were leaving. He was four but a smart little thing.  As soon as the stylist crew arrived, his meltdown began. 

You held him as they did your hair and make-up, trying to soothe him. Coriolanus was still at work. All he needed to do was change his suit when he arrived home. 

He arrived home to chaos he could not settle. 

He stood behind you, watching as your son tried to tug off your elbow-length glove. 

“It’s alright, it’s okay. Mum will be back,” you promise. 

Aurora throws her head back, throwing her body off balance in your hold. 

The two nannies try to gain the kids' attention by holding out new toys, and calling out to them. 

“Once you leave they will settle,” one of the nannies promised. 

With teary eyes, you kiss both of your crying children, Coriolanus does the same, and Aurora is handed over. 

Crassus’s little hands claw onto your dress, he has to be picked up and yanked away by his nanny. 

You try not to let your tears fall as you walk to the car. It would ruin your make-up, and once you started to cry, you weren’t sure you would be able to stop. 

“They will be fine,” Coriolanus promises on the way to the event. 

“Why do I have to go tonight?” It was a silly thing that would survive without you. 

“Because you’re my wife. That’s why.”

Despite many years in the Capitol, events like this reminded you that you don’t belong. 

People would only talk to you in an attempt to gain an audience with Coriolanus. 

You would remain civil but not overly friendly. 

They all thought you were shy and timid as you were rarely seen, and always by Coriolanus’s side. 

Your relationship with Coriolanus had changed over the years but his overprotectiveness never dissolved.

His hand was always on you in some form. Where he went, you went. Who he talked to, you talked to. You were only an extension of him in public. At least at home, you were your own person to your kids. 

Tonight it seemed to all children. Only one person spoke to you apart from Coriolanus. 

It was a little girl, who passed you a flower in thanks. The public pool didn’t seem so silly in your eyes anymore. You bent down to talk to her, thanking her for the flower. You asked her about school and her siblings. You told her about your own children who were too young to attend a party like her. 

You were disappointed when her nanny came to collect her. She scolds the child for running away and bothering the President. 

Tucking the flower behind your ear, you blow the girl a kiss as she is carted off.

The rest of the night was dull as you acted as Coriolanus’s shadow. 

Coriolanus had just finished a speech on stage, you were walking back down the hallway to the party with him. You passed a few people running the events. They tried to talk to him, but he seemed in a rush. 

He turns off the direction of the party, and tugs you down an empty hallway. 

You ask him what he is doing as he checks the doors until he finds one that is opened and ushers you inside. It was a supply closest. Small and smelling slightly damp. 

He pushes you up against the wall, knocking over a broom and a bucket. 

“You’re such a good mother. Such a good little wife. I don’t tell you that enough,” he says. 

“Okay,” you respond, pushing back on his shoulders. 

“I love you so much.” He kisses you so hard, that your head is knocked painfully back into the cement wall. 

It reminded you of the harsh and needy kisses he used to give you as a Commander.

You feel his hands slide up your dress and grip the flesh of your butt. 

“Coriolanus, not here,” you beg. 

His lips go to your throat in slow, sexual kisses.

“I want another baby,” he requests. 

“Not here. Someone could find us.” 

“Not if you are quiet.” 

“Coryo,” You try. A bit too loud for this liking. He clamps a hand over your mouth, and shushes you with a hard look that tells you he was serious. 

“It would not look good if they found the President and First Lady fucking in a closet.”

He kneels on the floor in front of you, going under your dress and up your legs, bringing down your underwear. 

You feel him put his mouth on you, and you try to relax. It took you months to fall pregnant the last two times. This time wasn’t anything special. 

His fingers dig into the back of your thighs, keeping you close as he works. 

Soon a lapping sound is heard, and Coriolanus leaves your cunt with a kiss.

You try one more time to dissuade him. Telling him to wait until home. But he unbuckles his belt and hoists you up around his waist. 

Your arms circle his shoulders as he pins you to the wall.

You can feel how hard he is against your heat. He bucks up against your wetness in desperation before he lines himself up properly. 

You engulf him in your wetness as he thrusts his hips up into you. 

With no way to hold yourself up, you feel yourself sink and then be thrusted up into.

“Are you going to give me a baby?” He grunts.

He is fast and rough as he slams up into you. His words were heard but your mind was far from them.  

“Yeah?” He teases. His lips go to your neck again, trapping you head against the wall. 

He seemed to continuously hit the spot that you liked, no matter how you moved your hips. 

The pressure means you come too quickly. Coriolanus was nowhere close so would continue. 

You can’t help to groan as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

He reminds you to be quiet once more, and you bite his shoulder to stop the sounds you couldn’t stop coming. 

He knew you had come from the way you clenched around him. 

Taking the back of your neck, he leans you into his shoulder and wraps an arm around your waist. 

He delivers you to the floor, releasing you gently into the tight confines of the cluttered room.

“Think you can manage another one?” He asks. 

You shake your head ‘No’, your words failed you as he continued his brutal pace. 

“I think you could,” he states. 

He uses two fingers to circle your pearl as he drives into you.

The door had no lock. Anyone could open it and see you. 

You were being too loud. You knew you were. But he forced the sounds from you. Your whole body tingled under his touch, your legs shook with pleasure. 

He was not being entirely quiet himself. He grunted and shutters above you feeling his own end coming. 

You feel him twitch in your preceding his exploding into you. 

He beats you but doesn’t stop swirling his fingers, determined to have you finish again. 

You come too loudly causing Coriolanus to cover your mouth with an open palm and look to the door, expecting detection. 

His hand is pulled and with a kiss, Coriolanus pulls back on his ankles with a stupid grin. 

He uses your panties to clean up the excess cum from you before placing the underwear back on you. 

If you had any energy, you would have taken them back off but all you could do was lie there, watching him transform back into a respectable gentleman. 

“We have to get back out there before they send Peacekeepers looking for us.” 

He finishes tucking his shirt back into his pants before reaching down to help you to your feet. 

You’re a little wobbly at first but Coriolanus keeps a firm grip to keep you upright. 

You spend the rest of the fundraiser with damp panties and shaky legs which causes you to bump into Coriolanus as he stands next to you. 

The stupid grin never leaves his face, even in the car ride home. 

Your children are asleep when you arrive home. 

You leave them with a kiss, before going back to your room and rushing to beat Coriolanus to bed while he is occupied going through the messages left for him. 

He joins you in the shower but it’s quick and with the intention of going to bed. 

He talks about the night. Recalling things he enjoyed and disliked. 

He asks you what you think but you shrug. All Capitol events were the same to you. 

You finish your shower while Coriolanus washes his hair. Giving you time to dress and get into bed before him. 

You roll to your side, hoping that the supply closet tryst fulfilled him enough. 

You feel him as he moves in the bed to come over to your side, his arm wraps around your shoulder and his head rests against yours. 

“We should take the kids to the zoo tomorrow. I’ll have it cleared out.”

“Okay,” you reply, knowing that there wasn’t any other option. 

The zoo was large, and there were too many animals to see before nap time. 

Crassus got whiny and tired from all the walking and climbing on things. He demanded to be carried. Instead of using his words, he would scream when he got sick of looking at the same animal. 

Normally you would have returned home to put him down for a nap, but Coriolanus enjoyed having his son rest on his shoulder. Crassus was a mommy’s boy and very rarely wanted to be held by anyone else. 

It was not your first time at the zoo. You had taken Crassus while you were six months pregnant with Aurora. It still amazed you, however. You could spend hours just looking and learning about the animals, but Crassus was lucky to push a five hour awake period. 

It was a blessing to visit the penguins where the sound of the gentle flowing water, and cool air sent him to sleep on Coriolanus' shoulder. 

You pushed the pram that Aurora was asleep in as you and Coriolanus searched for a comfortable resting place.

Finding a canopy, you sit with your family in the shade. Coriolanus had successfully transferred Crassus from his shoulder to the bench with his head resting on his father's thigh. 

Coriolanus’s other leg went out to gently rock the pram with his expensive shoe. 

You lay back resting your eyes yourself. Crassus had woken you up from a nightmare. With him in your bed, you got very little sleep as he tossed and spread out. 

Coriolanus disturbs your peace by reaching out to place a hand on your stomach as if there was something already inside. 

“What do you think it will be?” he asks. 

“We don’t know there is anything in there.” 

Coriolanus had wanted you to take a test this morning but it was chaos trying to get the children ready for the day. 

“I don’t care what it is myself. I was thinking Marcellus for a boy, and Lillian for a girl”. 

You cry at the thought of being pregnant again. It was a horrible experience. It was uncomfortable, tiring, and you suffered great nausea all throughout the nine months. That's all before the recovery period while you run around after two other children.

“Hey,” his voice is soft and reassuring. He stops rocking the pram to reach his hand to yours. 

The hand that wasn’t captured by Coriolanus went to your mouth to quieten your blathering. You were always cautious about what the children saw.

“If it’s too much I’ll let you get a nanny to help during the day” he offers. 

You rip your hand out from under him in anger, “I don’t want a nanny.” 

You didn’t trust Capitol people to be around your children. Only when you were forced to where you parted from them. They were too young. They needed their mother. 

“You’re tired,” he pandered. His hand wraps around your shoulder to pull you down to his lap. You rest your head on his thigh like your son, and find your eyes shut by themselves. 

You feel his fingers itch your head until you are asleep. Coriolanus waits until your breath evens before returning to rock the pram with his hand. With his arm rested over his oldest child, and his hand lulling his baby girl to sleep, Coriolanus felt a swell of pride.  

His family slept under his protection and lead. Pamen had entered into a new golden age. All paths led him here. 

You woke to the sound of Aurona crying which woke and upset Crassus. 

On instinct, you shoot up from Coriolanus to retrieve your baby girl. She needed to be fed again, but Crassus was now rejecting Coriolanus’s hold, wanting to be picked up by you. 

You oblige him when his face starts to turn red from crying. You feel their tears on either side of your collarbones. Their screams rang in your ear. 

Coriolanus stretches his dead legs, slowly easing himself up to place a hand on Crassus' back.

“Let's get ice cream,” he bribes. 

Crasuss turns his head to look at his father and nods.

With a bright smile, Coriolanus claps his hands together before opening them wide, “Come to daddy?” He asks. 

You never let him get ice cream at the zoo. It was too close to nap time. So with the promise Crassus eagerly goes into his father's arms. 

At the ice cream shop you could feed Aurona but it took far longer than normal with the anxiety that you were pregnant with your third. Something told you that you were.

It was a boy. A gorgeous baby boy. Doll was your nickname for him, but Coriolanus officially names him Adrianus. He cried very little, and at six weeks old he slept through the night. He latched easily, and from 3 to 4 in the afternoon, he would laugh insatiably at everything. He was a dream child. You were very happy with him, despite his initial undesired conception. 

Life settled for a little bit as Coriolanus worked to quell a quiet rebellion brewing in the Districts. 

For a year Coriolanus was kept busy. His mind off expanding his family. 

For the moment he was happy with the three wonderful kids you had given him. Something you could share. Three young kids, five and under,  left you exhausted by the end of the day, yet when the day was over and the kids were asleep, Coriolanus demanded your attention. 

Coriolanus was not immune to jealousy even from his own kids. You had learnt to give him enough attention during the day when he was around but it only starved him off until night time. He rarely talked about work. Only upcoming events that concern you. He was more interested in you recounting every single thing the kids did. 

After having the kids hang off you all day, your least favorite thing to do was have Coriolanus all over you. But when it was his time, he followed you everywhere you went. Insisting that you sat on the couch with him for an hour. He didn’t feel like it was much, but you felt as if it was the last bit of energy zapped out of you. 

You normally got a break when Coriolanus returned home from work. He started early so normally he was home in the late afternoon. While you had lots of staff to help you with chores and cooking, you preferred to do it yourself. It gave you a routine that you could go auto-pilot on. 

From five to six every day you were in your kitchen while Coriolanus watched the children. Capitol food took some getting used to. Half of the meat you had never even seen before. Coriolanus organized cooking lessons to help you as a Mother’s Day gift. 

Dinner was often followed by free play if they weren’t too messy, allowing you time to feed Adrianus. It was important that he had your full attention as you fed as he was so quiet that you might miss a cue of his discomfort. 

Crassus sat coloring at the kitchen table while you were in the kitchen trying to feed your youngest boy, Adrianus, who had just turned one

Coriolanus sat next to his son watching as your daughter Aurora showed off her expensive ball gown that her father had brought her simply because she wanted it. ‘No’ was not in Coriolanus’s vocabulary when it came to his children. 

He held out accessories in his palm for her as she explained what they were and where they went. 

Despite ruling a country with an iron fist, at home, it was you who disciplined the children. He let them run wild, while you tried to raise them to be respectable, and moral children. Your work mostly paid off. They were good children. 

Aurora having free reign over her father and older brother, who both bent over backwards to please her, was spoiled. Her tantrums were something you were yet to stop, but she was sweet when not disappointed which was more often than not. 

She only had to cry and Coriolanus would pick her up, giving her what she wanted. It annoyed you to no end. If your marriage was equal, you would push more for him to discipline the kids, but Coriolanus only ever gave you the illusion of partnership. 

“Mummy, how did you meet Daddy?” Crassus asks out of nowhere as he draws. 

The small spoon in your hand drops to the floor as memories that you had buried spring up. The stalking, the harassment, the loss of freedom. You remember the late nights as your mother cried out from pain from the flogging that he ordered. 

“Mummy used to own a cake shop, and Daddy would go by every morning before University to buy one.” Coriolanus answered for you. He reaches out and brushes Crassus' hair lovingly. 

“Dad, you can’t have cake for breakfast!” Aurora exclaimed. 

“Oh, but I did! Your mother would make them special for me.” 

You close your eyes remembering the words, ‘Can you make me some more of those oat bars.’ A demand, not a gesture on your behalf. You remember the hard wall behind you as he pressed you there. Just the thought of it brought your heart back into your throat as if it was happening all over again.

“She doesn’t let me have cake for breakfast!” Aurora complained. Tears sprang to her eyes causing Crassus to push a lollypop you had given him for eating his dinner across the table, trying to fight off his sister's tears. 

Coriolanus picks her up from the floor and places her on his knee so she can cry into his arms. 

“Darling, these are special cakes. Ones you give to someone you want to marry.” 

You remember the cakes you used to make Edmund. Edmund, you hadn’t thought about him in years, yet the scar on your heart never healed. 

“Not growing little girls.” Still, your daughter cried, which displeased Coriolanus. 

He rises from the table with Aurora in his arms and heads into the fridge. 

“Let's see if Mum baked any for you”. 

Your youngest son begins to cry from hunger which snaps you out of your spiraling. With your daughter receiving a cupcake and your son resuming feeding, the room is calm once more. But your hand shook as your mind flooded with memories of Commander Snow. 

Moments later, Crassus presented you with a picture of two stick figures surrounded by out-of-proportion cupcakes. You stared at it with the weight of your baby resting on your hip. 

Just like that Coriolanus had rewritten history. Commander Snow was a distant dream. District 12 a vague thought. Lucy Gray no longer haunted the woods. No longer made Coriolanus Snow the victor of the 10th Hunger Games. The war scar had faded. He had fixed history’s mistakes. 

He had taken his rightful place as President of Pamen. Only you were left to remember him as Commander Snow. 

The end!

Thank you all for reading, and coming along for the journey. Especially to those who commented and motivated me to write. This story would not have been complete without you.

A HUGE thank you to @hotline-to-hell for editing the work, and restructuring the mess.

And a HUGE thank you to @thaleleah and (who i assume is the same) anon who took the time out to encourage me with their long, and hilarious feedback.

Hope to see you all in my other works!

taglist:

@sarahskakskskskajakwwnwjw

@mrsjobarnes

@greekyoghurtwithberries

@namelesslosers

@urfavnoirette

 @aleemendoza2425-blog

@hiatuswhore

@jacesvelaryons

@swimmjacket

@brooks-lin

@dawnissunnysideup

@astarborntowrite

@someonefromwutheringheights

@purriteen

@homopheli

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@bruher

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@inloveallthetime

@hufflepuffxsworld

@chennyetomlinson

@slumnit

@saharadesertaj

@missbeeentertainment

[riverbutghost]

Why?

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Simon made it clear that he disliked you. But after you were captured by the enemy, he decided that was far from the truth.

Warnings: Military stuff (wounds, blood etc.), Slight sexual themes, violence, detailed descriptions of torture but not too much. (I don’t know if I’ve missed anything else. The italics are flashbacks btw.

Masterlist

“Ты говоришь на русском языке?” do you speak Russian?

You tried to catch your breath while the two men were talking in Russian. A cold water was thrown at you.

“посмотри на нее, она такая американка. я чувствую его запах.” He scrunched up his face and looked at you with disgust. look at her, she’s so American I can smell it.

“Aren’t you going to beg, my dear?” He patted your head a little while smiling like a maniac. The Russian accent was so strong that you asked yourself if you knew Russian.

“Aww, she’s such a cutie with a crying face. I love making little girls cry.”

Your face scrunched up and you looked down, not letting them see your tears anymore. It was embarrassing for you, a soldier who was known for her strong facade on the field. But only on the field, they used to say. You smile a lot, lass, Soap used to say. Now you wondered if you were going to see him again.

“Well, either way we will keep you until you die, sweetheart. Take care, Милая.” darling.

The other man smirked and they both got out of the room.

You couldn’t remember what had happened, but you were taken by the Russians.

Your head was pounding and the punch you received from the guy who had called you disgusting pet names was dreadful.

You wiggled your arms, wiggled your neck but no. They weren’t even ropes. They were metal bars. They had pinned your arms, legs and neck to a metal bar.

You were sure you were going to die here.

Suddenly, you remembered your lieutenant’s words from earlier.

He had said, “don’t leave my side. I didn’t want you in the first place but they gave you to me so do as I say. Also, I don’t want to hear you chitchat.”

It hurt you a little, pinched your already broken heart. But you knew better than getting sad. He was Ghost, always mean, always bored. He only joked around with Soap, which was a rare sight. You promised to yourself that whatever he would say, you were going to befriend him. But that didn’t end up like that.

It was rare for you. Usually you would get along with anyone, but Ghost was different. From the beginning, he would always make you feel small, making little comments about how you had a big mouth and he knew how to shut it and blah blah blah which made your face flush.

You were starting to get him though. Or so you thought.

-

“You know I don’t care what you say, right?”

Your shoulders slumped a little. But your smile came back.

“Well, I don’t care either. That makes us a good team.”

You smiled at him sweetly. Like a child who got what they wanted. He gripped the folders harder.

“Stop smiling and get these papers to Price.”

You kept smiling and took the papers from him.

“We will be friends eventually, sir.”

“I hope not.” He mumbled, making you chuckle a little.

-

You were always hurt after talking to him, but sucked it up eventually.

He had his issues. He knew better to trust a new soldier. But you were insistent. He was insistent either.

“Are you okay?”

He tensed at you sudden voice, eyes dropping at your soft tone.

“Yes, is there a problem?”

You bit your cheek.

“Why are you so persistent about this?”

He was taken aback by your question. He turned towards you, his skull mask was on.

“What?”

You gripped your blade harder. It was one of those ‘nightmare’ nights. You couldn’t sleep and thought it would be easier to clean your blades. You should’ve known better.

“You try so hard to ignore me or shut me up.”

His eyes were staring right at yours and you felt the need to remove your eyes from his.

“I don’t like bubbly people. And you talk too much, my ears can’t take it anymore.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“You’ll like me eventually-“

His sharp breath shut you up instantly.

“Why do you act like everyone likes you? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

You were taken aback by his sudden harsh words. You opened your mouth to speak, again thinking you were going to make him like you. So you said the thing that came to your mind to stop him from breaking your heart more.

“Chill dude-“

You were flushing. What the fuck was ‘chill dude’ ?

“Don’t” He stopped for a second. “don’t ‘chill dude’ me. I’m your superior and you will respect me. Understood?”

You felt your body freeze. He was making it so hard, so hard to befriend him.

“Ghost-“

“Sir, you’ll call me sir from now on.”

You looked down at you hands, trying to find something to look at.

“Yes sir.” You mumbled eventually and got up, scoffing at the tears which were threatening to fall down.

-

You still remembered the stinging feeling his words had caused you.

You stopped trying to be one of his mates. You stopped talking near him. This made everyone question why, but never asked because Ghost was never in the mood to talk.

.

Simon thought about the last time he had cared about anything. He couldn’t remember.

But you, you…

You were like a rainbow after a terrible storm. Your smile could lit up the whole world. And after just one look at your face, he knew he should distance himself and not get close to you.

But you had other plans.

After your first mission, he was sure he would get lost looking at you smile.

-

“How is your leg, sir?”

You asked him with the most beautiful smile he had ever seen.

“Fine.” He grumbled, voice vibrating through his chest. Your cheeks started getting pinker and he cursed himself.

“Can you get out and call the nurse?”

Your smile wavered a little and you finally turned around. You mumbled under your breath, he figured you were hurt by his words.

“No need to be rude, Lieutenant.”

He couldn’t help it though. You were a ball of happiness and he was overwhelmed. He couldn’t help himself.

He regretted it, but still said nothing.

-

You didn’t shut up. Ever.

Even if he said the most hurtful comment, you would still forget about it and smile at him. He sometimes questioned your ability to be happy all the time. It was a gift, he was sure.

You were a gift. He wasn’t religious at all, but after seeing you for the first time, he was sure you were a gift from above.

He fucked it up.

He should be relieved, but no. He was angry at himself for attacking you in a sort of fucked up way.

He was using his fucked up mentality to push you away, but he knew better.

Deep down, he knew why he was treating you that way. But he wouldn’t let anyone know this. Not even himself.

“We have to do something, y’know?”

Simon pushed his thoughts away and looked at his superior.

“Yeah, no shit.”

Price pressed his lips harder than usual.

“I interrogated them, they say different things.”

Simon pulled his mask down and got up. He turned towards Price.

“Then maybe you should let me interrogate them.”

Price gave a long and sharp breath.

“What will we have if you kill them?”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows. You don’t understand, he wanted to say.

“What do we have, then?” He gave up for the sake of finding you.

“4 locations, Soap searched them. They are all Russians’ and we have to be quick.”

They were more then ready to find their little sunshine. But Simon was stressed, he was freaking out.

They got ready, hopped on their truck and the mission was started.

-

You weren’t okay.

You were far from being okay.

“Oh, look at her. So sad no one is coming for you?”

You clenched your jaw, immediately regretting it because of the massive headache.

“Speak when I ask you a question, got it ?”

A noise came from your neck at the sudden blow to your cheek.

“Let’s get rid of these bars,”

Your neck suddenly fell down after the metal bar opened. You couldn’t find the strength to look at them.

He gripped your hair and jerked your head to him.

Another guy kicked your abdomen, making you whimper in pain.

“Bastards!”

The guy gripped your hair harder and smacked the back of the gun to your head.

You unintentionally whimpered again.

“What was that? You little pig.”

You were sure there was an internal bleeding in your abdomen.

“That’s enough brother, let’s eat.”

The guy kicked you again in the abdomen and the metal bars opened.

You fell down from your chair.

Your vision was blurry, you were sure you wouldn’t survive in two days. It has been so long, so long.

They were coming, you knew it. Deep down, you were wondering if Ghost was finally relieved. No one was talking his head off or cracking dirty jokes now. Was he keeping them away so you would die alone here?

You closed your eyes, shaking the ridiculous thoughts.

You were tired, so you let yourself go.

-

“Hey, be fuckin’ quiet!”

Soap gulped and apologized at his Lieutenant. He was extra angry today.

“Sir, what if she’s already dead? This would be a suicide mission then.”

Simon turned towards the recruit.

“Shut your mouth and do what you’re told, kid.”

The soldier fell silent after that. They knew better to piss Ghost off.

“Okay, get ready. In three, two… one!”

Shots were suddenly fired. The Russians were not expecting this, at this hour especially. They were on edge, but their superiors were busy having dinner.

“I’ll look inside!”

Ghost shouted, immediately followed by Soap.

The two got in, killed the guards.

It had been a fucking week, and Ghost felt pathetic to hear your voice. It effected him more than he thought it would.

“Fuck, Soap, I’m going downstairs .”

Soap nodded and returned his killing.

Ghost kept his steps low, head raised high in confidence. He pushed through everything in front of him, trying to save his pain in the ass.

He pushed every door, even broke the locked ones down.

There you were, laying on the ground. Looking dead, but your back was slightly moving up and down.

He immediately scanned the room, with nothing he rushed to get you out of there.

He kneeled on his knees and turned you around carefully.

“Sir?”

He breathed a sigh of relief.

“You’re strong, sergeant.”

You smiled a little. He checked your injuries’ severity and got you on his back.

“I didn’t think I would- uh- be alive to be honest.”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Bite your tongue, Sergeant. You’re one of the strongest soldiers i’ve ever met.”

You smiled a little again. Proudly you closed your eyes.

“Stay, yeah? Don’t want you to die on me, gonna get in trouble because of you.”

Your smile faltered. Here you were, naive little girl.

“Right.”

He knew he fucked up again. But his first mission was get you out of there safely.

You whimpered at the sudden pain in your abdomen.

“What’s wrong?”

Your arms tightened around his neck, not enough to hurt him.

“Hurts-“

A sudden explosion made you two flew into a wall. Ghost groaned and quickly grabbed his gun. He looked around for you.

Everything was happening too quick for his liking. He reloaded his gun and jumped up to his feet.

“No…”

He fired his gun nonstop at the men, who were trying to shoot both of you. He was actually scared for the first time.

He reached to his comm.

“Soap, fuck- come downstairs!”

He swung his gun to the man beside him and rushed to your side. He lifted you bridal style and turned his back on the men.

“Fuck,”

A bullet pierced his shoulder. He eventually put you down behind a desk, flipping the desk over to cover you.

Soap, Gaz and Price came into his view and he relaxed all of a sudden.

“Ghost?!”

Ghost put his arm up behind the desk to show them where you were.

“Are you hurt? You’re bleeding.” Gaz looked at him in concern.

“Oh, so I’m not hurt then.”

Ghost scoffed at Gaz and picked you up. Gaz rolled his eyes.

“Let’s get you two to the heli.” Price tried to pick you up, but Ghost mumbled something and pulled you to him.

“Ghost-“

Ghost brushed him off.

“Let’s go.”

It had been a week.

After multiple surgeries, you were in intensive care for give days.

The internal bleeding had caused you to lose consciousness and when you woke up in the heli, you vomited blood. On Ghost.

Ghost felt his heart beat faster at that because for a second, he thought you were dying.

You didn’t.

You were awake but still in bed. Soap came to your visit, Gaz did, Price did, even Alejandro did but Ghost didn’t.

You received a lot of gifts from recruits which made you smile. But something else was occupying your mind.

You wondered if Ghost was okay. Soap told you he was shot, said it was nothing for him.

You got up to a sitting position. Immediately holding your abdomen, you cursed. It still hurt like a bitch.

You stood up from the bed and checked the nurse. She wasn’t there so you took the chance to escape from your prison.

You were in a white oversized sweatshirt and nothing else. You weren’t wearing a bra and you thanked the nurse.

You pushed the doors open. You had forgotten the sweaty smell of the hallways. You missed it.

“What are you doing? Go back to bed.”

You flinched at your nurse’ tone and turned around to her.

“I feel good, Amanda. Please,”

Amanda sighed then nodded, allowing you to leave.

“I didn’t see you, then.”

You chuckled a bit and left.

Your mission was now to find your Lieutenant. Ghost. Simon. You never tried to call him by his actual name, knowing his temper and dislike towards you.

You felt nauseous all of a sudden. You didn’t want to find him, you didn’t want to feel unwanted and alone again. Even though your other teammates were always there for you, you wanted him. Why? You didn’t know. Or didn’t want to admit.

You took a deep breath, forgetting about your abdomen.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You held your abdomen and mumbled curses.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You froze and licked your lips. That wasn’t the scenario you thought it would be. You turned to your side.

“Hi, sir.”

You smiled at him through your pain.

He was wearing his balaclava, his eyes red. You wondered why, then remembered he was shot.

“Are you okay Ghost? I heard that you were shot.”

You took a step forward. He took a step back. You pressed your lips together.

“I’m fine. Go back to bed.”

You furrowed your eyebrows.

“No.”

Ghost looked straight at your eyes, his bloodshot eyes looked concerning.

“Do as I say, sergeant.”

You shook your head. Not today.

“I’m okay. I wanted to see if you were okay too.”

Ghost’s eyes left yours for a second. He looked down at your abdomen.

“You’re going to open your stitches.”

Your head fell to your side slightly. He looked at you again.

“Are you, okay?” You punctuated for him to understand what you were trying to say.

He sighed.

You took four more steps towards him until you were chest to chest.

He looked defeated.

“I am.” He answered your question, eyes flickering between your mouth and your eyes.

“Can I look at your shoulder? It’s bleeding.”

Ghost furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his shoulder. He knew he shouldn’t be working out in this condition.

“Please let me help, Simon.”

His breath hitched a little, but you heard.

With a newfound courage, you took his hand and lifted it slightly with a cloud-like touch.

“I’m sweaty .” He looked at your eyes.

“It’s okay.” You smiled at him. His eyes traveled all over you and suddenly, he took your hand and started dragging you.

You gasped in shock, but didn’t say a thing. He was acting strange, you didn’t mind it.

Ghost opened the door to his room and after pulling you in, he closed the door.

“What now?” He asked out of breath. You flushed a little.

“Uhm, well. I’ll get your med kit.”

He nodded and showed you the place. He sat down onto his bed.

You came with the medkid, a little shyly.

“Take off your shirt.”

He gulped. You didn’t mean to sound so authoritatively. You helped him by lifting his arm slightly then took off the shirt.

Holy shit, you thought. He was ripped. You cleared your throat and opened the medkit.

“Just try not to move your arm.” He nodded.

You were working on his arm, but his eyes were on you. You shuddered a little feeling goosebumps all over your body. He smirked under his mask.

“I’ve never seen your face.”

“I know?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah no shit. Are you going to show me?”

He shook his head. You pursed your lips in a mock sadness.

But you felt your body freeze as he pulled your bottom lip.

You swallowed hard, forgetting about his wound. He groaned, sound vibrating through his chest. You were melting.

“Oh God, sorry.”

He pulled you on his lap, pulling your legs apart with his hand. You gasped again, feeling a sensation in your lower parts.

“Ghost-“

“Hm?”

You took a deep breath and averted your eyes from him to focus on his wound.

Quickly cleaning it up then bandaging it, you looked at him.

“I’m going to wash my hands.”

He got up with you on his lap. His hands were on you thighs and your legs were hugging his waist.

“What are you doing?”

“Never letting you go.”

You licked your lips, they suddenly felt dry.

“I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for the way I treated you. But fuck, you are something else. Fucking pain in the ass.”

You chuckled a little and he dropped you near the sink.

“Stay with me?”

You dried your hands then turned around. He was hovering over you, and you liked it.

“Let’s sleep.”

He gulped then grabbed you up in a rush.

“Ow, be careful you ass.”

He put you on to the mattress.

“Let me make it feel good, yeah?”

All of the playfulness left your face after he had said that.

“Oh fuck.”

[toruro]

— ✧ exes and oh's

pairing. choi seungcheol x reader

description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but then again, life has a funny way of making you choose.

tags. smut (18+), UNEDITED (i wrote this mostly when i was half asleep, there will be missing words), angst, oral (f receiving), petnames, past toxic relationships/ friendships, referenced cheating, alcohol consumption (+ mentions of vomiting + poor decisions abt alcohol in general), rebuilding relationships, trust issues, joshua is extremely protective it's honestly a little annoying, a disgusting amount of internal monologue i am So sorry, theres a lot in this one so if i missed anything lmk

fic playlist.

w/c. 15.8k+

a/n. 1K SPECIAL SORRY IT'S A LITTLE LATE...anyways i really tried to make sure this wasn't super corny but i prob got carried away i can't even tell anymore. update. this is cringe as hell

Your day today is slow, like every other. You aren’t sure why you expect anything different—well maybe you do know. It’s the optimist in you, a small voice in your head says, as you drop down your bookbag next to Joshua’s chair, the two of you slipping into your seats. Optimism my ass, you shoot back at yourself.

“Can you cover my shift?” Joshua asks, turning to you on his chair. You two have just finished your econ lecture and are sitting in the library to catch up on notes.

Furrowing your eyebrows, you give him a wary look. “Joshua,” you whine, pulling out your notebook and pen down.

“C’mon you said you needed some extra cash, and I need the night off anyways. I’ll get you back with something,” he promises as you narrow your eyes.

“Now what do you have that makes you need the night off?”

“Well there’s this party—” he pauses when you huff.

“And what’s to say I wouldn’t like to go to this party?” you retort, slightly annoyed that he expects you to cover his shift over something like this.

Joshua signs, running a hand through his hair. “Well I can say that I don’t think you would be especially keen on going,” he tells you honestly, and then when you catch the look in his eyes you falter.

You think about probing further, but second guess yourself—you probably shouldn’t. It isn’t good for your heart. You are trying to work on putting yourself, your heart, first, but as they say, curiosity killed the cat. “Why do you say that?” you ask, and Joshua gives you that look.

He knows where this is going, and he’s slightly disappointed in you for going against your personal goal of not bringing it up. Then again, he doesn’t control you, and while he can try to guide you down the path of reparations and healing, he can’t force you anywhere.

“Cheol’s birthday is tomorrow,” he tells you like you don’t know. Like you don’t still have it marked down in bright blue sharpie on your calendar. It’s only been six months since you’ve last talked to him, and you don’t feel the need to buy a whole new calendar for the sake of getting rid of his and Yejin’s name.

That, and you don’t think taking his name off would help you forget anyways. Ten years, you think to yourself, ten years shouldn’t be disposed of as easily as a calendar, although it seems Yejin and Cheol had no problem doing just that.

Joshua catches you zoning out. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“No it’s okay,” you sigh, leaning back in your chair. “It’s not like I didn’t know, I don’t know why I asked.” Joshua looks at you sadly.

“The party…it’s going to be a big one, since Soonyoung is throwing it. You can come if you really want, you probably won’t run into Seungcheol anyways,” Joshua offers.

You scrunch up your face, shaking your head. “And Yejin? Either way, I don’t want to even think about how it would look if I showed up to a party for his birthday.”

Joshua gives you a wear look. “You don’t know?”

“Huh? Know what?”

“Cheol and Yejin broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.” You blink once, then twice, staring down at your shoes before inhaling sharply.

“I’m sorry. I thought you knew.”

You shrug, responding, “Whatever. Don’t apologize. I don’t have any business with either of them anyways.”

“Okay but—”

“Seriously Josh,” you mutter, turning to him so he can see the pleading look on your face. “Let’s talk about something else, yeah? I’ll cover your shift.” Joshua gives you a tentative look, opening his mouth before you stop him. “Seriously,” you repeat, “It’s fine.”

And the truth is, you are fine. Sure it hurts when you think about them too much, and even if they are broken up, it doesn’t really make you feel much better, but you are okay. Your days are often dull, yes, but you aren’t unhappy. You’re content, and being in your final year of university, you figure that being content is all you need.

Excitement and love are not quite at the forefront of your mind, and while it does cause a nasty knot to build up in your throat when you think about Cheol and Yejin and all the fun times you have spent with them, you quietly tell yourself that things just played out the way they were supposed to.

You tell yourself that if it didn’t work out, it wasn’t meant to work out. That your life had plans, and that those plans didn’t include them.

As you walk home, you scoff to yourself, thinking about how Cheol and Yejin were willing to give up ten years of friendship with you—with each other—for something that didn’t even last half a year.

Of course it’s painful, but at the end of the day, you’re okay with that.

“You’re pathetic,” Yejin spits out, and you feel yourself growing dizzy. Her animosity that’s more apparent than ever is all you can think about it, and it has your jaw going slack. “How could you—” her face contorts into something so full of hate that you brace yourself for her next words, “How could you do this to me?”

You still, blinking as you let the words sink in. You want to argue, to fight back, to defend yourself, but the words fall flat on your tongue. You want to scream, I didn’t do anything to you, want to tell her that your feelings aren’t there to hurt her, but you can’t. “Yejin—”

“It doesn’t even matter now,” she cuts you off, sucking in a sharp breath, her face that was momentarily scrunched up into anger is now relaxing, looking back at the door where music booms from the party.

“Are you just going to leave?” you manage to ask, steading your breaths as best as you can. Yejin looks at you and from the way she’s slightly taller than you, you nearly cower back in anticipation for her next words.

Yejin always did tend to have a bit of a mean streak, but only towards those she felt had wronged her—never to you. Always had a snarky comment to throw, but never in your direction. Always ready to be on the offense if she felt she needed to, and for the first time in your ten years of friendship, you know what it’s like to be on the receiving end.

Yejin never answers your question. “Cheol likes me,” she tells you as if it isn’t obvious. As if you haven’t mulled over that fact for the past month, the tell-tale lips of Joshua spilling you Seungcheol’s secrets many nights before. “He doesn’t like you.” Yejin pauses. “Because you’re boring.”

Your world stills. Everything was spinning in a hazy maze a moment ago but now it all has paused and her words are hitting you in slow motion. “What?” you try to ask but your voice comes out hardly above a whisper.

Yejin scoffs, and you know in this moment that that is the meanest thing she could have done. “You’re boring,” she repeats, “and that’s why—” she takes a deep breath, “—even if he didn’t like me, he wouldn’t like you, so I’m telling you now to give up.”

You gulp, and the words spill out of your mouth before you can stop. “I was never going to make a move on him,” you retort, finally finding the words stuck in your throat, and while you gain confidence for a moment, it withers away when you catch the amused look on Yejin’s face. “I can’t believe you would think I’d go for him if you liked him.”

“That’s your problem!” Yejin exclaims exasperatedly. “You were going to do nothing even if none of us found out,” she spits out, and you feel your knees growing wobbly again as Yejin continues. “You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

She turns on her heel, and you call out to her one last time. “Are you—”

“Get Joshua to drive you home,” is the last thing she ever says to you.

Taking Joshua’s shift is boring. Not that you expect anything different—getting you excited for work is not one of your optimism’s capabilities. Evenings at the coffee shop are busier than one would expect, but after considering the fact that it’s the only one open past seven p.m. on campus, the crowd begins to make sense.

You spend your time making drinks for the many students who are—much like yourself—simply trying to get through the night, but you would be lying if you say you don’t notice that the turn out is a little…smaller. After all, it is a Friday evening and Soonyoung’s parties are infamous on campus for being…well for being thrown by Soonyoung.

He’ll invite anyone and everyone, so you wouldn’t be surprised if your instagram feed will be filled with nothing but pictures from Cheol’s party tonight. Not that you care. You don’t want to go, you have no reason to.

Still, you wonder: would Yejin show up? If they did break up, like Joshua told you, what were the circumstances? Are they still friends? What happened? Why did they—

No.You shouldn’t do this to yourself, you can’t. Yejin isn’t your friend anymore, and neither is Cheol. What happened between them shouldn’t be your business—it isn’t. Leave it alone, you tell yourself, tapping your foot on the ground.

Yet, every time you look over the empty seats that fill the cafe, you’re reminded of just why not many people are here tonight. Seungcheol. Chewing on your bottom lip, you go against your better judgment and pull out your phone, immediately tapping on instagram.

Your stories are filled with a plethora of videos and pictures from the house that Cheol shares with Jeonghan and some other friends. It’s dark both inside and out, the only thing illuminating the house being led lights and pool lights in the backyard.Fondly, you remember last summer and Cheol’s birthday, which was spent at his house with you. Yejin, and some other friends in his pool from morning ‘til night. Fun times, you think, and you quietly wonder if Cheol will remember those memories today, or if he will leave them in his dust.

Tapping through the stories, you purse your lips together, inhale sharply, and begin to make yourself a drink. It’s too late in the evening for you to be thinking about this.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding. He can hear his heartbeat ringing in his ears and then there’s the music that has its vibrations going straight to his heart as he stumbles over his own words.

Lights everywhere flashing different colors and he isn’t sure when one cup turns into two, which turns into three, which turns into fuck-knows-how-many until Jeonghan is grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and pushing him into an empty room, calling Joshua over.

Again, Seungcheol’s head is pounding. And he fucking loves it.

Joshua and Jeonghan, on the other hand, are frustrated. Cheol is trying to push through them, clawing for the door as his legs hit each other in a mangled mess until he’s falling onto them as they hold him back.

“You guys can’t fucking do this,” he whines, throwing his head back as he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“When you said you were going to go crazy tonight,” Joshua mutters, “I didn’t realize you meant literally. Are fucking insane?” he hisses.

Cheol gives him an angry look, seeming to sober up for a moment as he straightens his back. “It’s my birthday, giving me a fucking break.”

“If you keep acting like this it’s going to be your death day soon too,” Jeonghan warns, earning him a glare.

“Seriously, do you want alcohol poisoning or something?” Joshua agrees. “Don’t drink anything else for the night, I’m serious.”

“And if I do?” Seungcheol challenges.

“We’ll tell Soonyoung to call it all off. You know he’ll do it if we ask,” Jeonghan states simply.

Cheol scoffs, but doesn’t reply, exercising his last bit of common sense to understand what Jeonghan and Joshua say, they mean. He needs to tread lightly.

Not that he cares much. He hasn’t got much to lose—Cheol only suggested this party because he knew that if it was anything short of big, he’d be reminded of the missing holes in his life right now.

His plan was unsuccessful, clearly, because even with cups after cups of spike punch, he’s still mulling over the fact there’s over a hundred people in this house and not a single one of them is you. Cheol had asked Joshua to bring it up with you—asked him to lead you in the right direction. The right direction being him.

He wasn’t really sure what his expectations were when he suggested it, but now it’s clear that Cheol really was expecting you to show up. He didn’t prepare for any other outcome, especially not one like this, where he’s wasted before the clock even strikes twelve. He’s on the verge of passing out when Joshua leaves the room, only Jeonghan and Cheol in each other’s presence as the former makes sure his elder doesn’t collapse.

Seungcheol’s head is pounding and he thinks it feels fucking great.

Fuck, he really needs to throw up.

You’re back at the cafe two days later, once again spending your evening serving students. It’s a bit of a lighter day, so only you and Jeongyeon are working, catching up and making light conversation through the day.

“Tired?” you ask her, when you catch her leaning against the counter with a wince.

She nods, turning up to look at you. “Chemistry is killing me. I want to cry just thinking about my next exam,” whe groans, throwing her head back. “I think humans have evolved too much. There’s no reason we should have explore this much about like, fucking atoms. Why can’t we just be happy creatures—ignorance is bliss, after all.”

You laugh out loud, not bothering to look at the door when you hear the bell of its opening ringing. “Take a break, yeah? I’ll manage for the next half an hour, if you just wanna sit and chill for a bit,” you offer, Jeongyeon letting out a sigh of relief.

“Are you serious?” she exclaims before hugging you tightly. “I fucking love you,” she says, pulling away and hopping down the back counter and to the back room while you smile widely before turning around to face the new customer at the counter.

Your smile drops faster than you can blink.

Seungcheol’s smile, at one time, was among one of your favorite sights on the whole damn planet. Now, you can’t help but turn away, too scared to look him in the eye. Scared that if you look long enough, you’ll find something you aren’t ready to see.

Don’t falter, you tell yourself. You haven’t been healing for months for it to amount to nothing. “What can I get you?” you ask casually, looking down at the cashier tablet, pretending to look through the catalog.

You didn’t look at him long enough to see if his smile vanished just as quickly as yours, to see if he expected you, to know what he was thinking at all honestly. You aren’t ready for that, and it’s pathetic, you think to yourself.

“Uh,” is the first thing you hear Cheol say to you after six months. You aren’t sure what you’re expecting him to follow with, but it is most definitely not, “Don’t you know my usual?”

It takes all your self control to not snap your eyes up and say, of course I know your usual, I never forgot, how could I forget, it’s always an iced latte with—“No, sorry, I don’t,” you say flatly, still not looking at him.

Cheol is slightly surprised by your choice of words, partly because when Joshua told him that your door was shut and not going to budge open, he didn’t really believe him. Maybe he knew he wouldn’t be able to hit it straight off the bat when he tried to reconcile, but he definitely wasn’t expecting this.

Not that he planned this—he knew you worked here, just not when. Cheol was just struck with luck when he walked in, ready to order a coffee when his eyes landed on your familiar figure this evening, and as an opportunist, he just couldn’t turn down the chance to try and talk to you.

Of course now, he isn’t sure if this course of action was the right one—you were never cold, not to him, not to Yejin, not to anyone really. It’s weird, he thinks.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup, please,” he replies with a small nod of acceptance. Joshua was right. Your door was locked.

“Your drink will come out over there,” you say, pointing over to the left counter. “Cash or card?”

He thinks it’s worth a shot to try again. “When was the last time I used anything but card?” Cheol accepts defeat when you don’t crack a smile, not even one bit.

“So you’re using card?” you ask plainly, turning the tablet over so he can swipe down. Cheol chuckles nervously as he pulls out his wallet. He doesn’t say anything after that, and for that, you are grateful.

Once he’s done paying, you turn on your heel quickly and make his drink. You don’t look up, don’t turn back—you don’t know if you’re ready to see him watching you, if he is at all. You aren’t sure what you’d like more: having him watching you, or having him not.

Gulping down a hard lump in your throat as you wait to pull the shot of espresso, you think deeply. It’s just how Jeongyeon said it, you figure: ignorance is bliss.

Jeongyeon thinks parties aren’t your thing. “They just don’t suit you,” she explains when you’re working one afternoon.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What do you mean not my thing?”

She shrugs, carrying in some boxes of cups. “It’s not a bad thing—I’m not calling you boring or anything—I’m just saying. You’re a very work-at-a-coffee-shop kind of girl, and not a let’s-go-party kind of girl, you know?”

The word bounces around in your mind. Boring.

“I can be both,” you huff. “You’re only saying this because I actually do work at a coffee shop.”

“Whatever,” Jeongyeon shrugs. “Come with me tonight then?”

You scrunch up your face. “Tonight? I work tonight,” you tell her with a frown.

“Get Hyunwoo to cover your shift then, I’m sure he’ll do it,” she suggests. You sigh, pulling out your phone to text your other co-worker.

“Okay, but if he says no it isn’t my fault.”

“Ya-da, ya-da, ya-da,” Jeongyeon mutters, waving her hand at you with a sly grin. “So I’ll see you tonight?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“If Hyunwoo is willing to give up his Saturday evening, I guess so.”

“Ugh, he better agree. Tell him if he does it, I’ll set him up on a date with Nayeon.”

You roll your eyes with a small giggle. “You need to stop using her to get what you want—she’s going to stop being your friend if you keep setting her up on dates so people can do you favors.”

“If that ends up happening…” Jeongyeon’s voice trails off as she glances at you. “…well that’s what you’re here for!”

It’s how you end up putting on some cute pants and black crop top that you’ve been saving for a night just like. Jeongyeon and you are ubering the way to whoever’s house this party is at, and you’re pretty sure neither of you have a good idea of how you’re supposed to get home, but that’s a problem for another time.

When you arrive, the house is already packed, but the two of you don’t have too much trouble slipping through the open door and into the crowd of people that fill each room. You haven’t been to a party in a while, and the loud music along with the rush you naturally feel when you're around so many people starts to return to you.

You see many faces—mostly ones you recognize, but the names fall flat on your tongue. Like you said, it’s been a while since you’ve come to a party.

When you make your way to the kitchen, you’re greeted by a kind, familiar voice. Smiling at Joshua as he calls out your name, you give him a sideways hug before you make your way to the counter with all the drinks. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teases, and you push him lightly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“Jeongyeon invited me last minute…I had to get Hyunwoo to take my shift,” you explain.

“Ah, that makes sense,” and there’s a funny look on his face when he says it.

“What’s with that face?”

“Nothing! It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“You know Hyunwoo likes you, right?” Joshua says casually, pouring you a cup of punch. Usually, you don’t trust what other people hand to you, but Joshua is a safe exception.

“What?” you ask, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets. “You’re lying. Did he tell you that?”

“Not directly…but it’s obvious. Seriously, who gives up their Saturday evening unless they’re making major bank or they have a crush.”

“Whatever. He’s a sophomore,” you murmur, taking a sip of the drink. It’s so sweet it almost masks the taste of alcohol. “Plus, he’s not my type. And I’m not interested in dating. I have too much going on,” you list.

“Please,” Joshua scoffs. “Your thesis and being a barista is not too much.”

“Shut up! I’m here, at a party, aren’t I?”

“Will you come to the next one?”

“That depends.”

“On?” he asks hopefully.

“Hm,” you hum, tapping a finger on your chin. “When, where, who, why, how.”

“Ugh, you’re seriously annoying about this. Just show up when I call you next, okay?”

“No promises. This night better be good if you want me to live up to that.”

“Well I’m not throwing this party so I can’t control that.”

You grin. “Too bad.” You’re having fun, you realize, even if it’s with the comfort of Joshua. You’re glad Jeongyeon brought you here. Joshua glances around for a moment and then back at you, opening his mouth to speak. “Don’t worry about me,” you tell him before he can say anything, “I can take care of myself.”

“I know, I just—” he stops himself. You know where this is going, and Joshua knows he doesn’t really need to say it. Cheol is here.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, patting his shoulder firmly, and in this moment you aren’t lying. Not to yourself, not to Joshua. It is okay. You are okay.

He watches you for a moment and then nods, ruffling your hair for a moment before waving goodbye to head off in some other room. You spend the next few minutes tossing your now empty cup to the side, heading off to some other room to find Jeongyeon. She’s dancing with some friends and the moment her eyes lay on you, she notices the deep flush to your face.

Calling you over, you dance with Jeongyeon, music blaring in your ear as you’re pressed up against her and other girls you’re sure you knew the names of at some point in your life. It’s exhilarating for a moment, but then suddenly, after around fifteen minutes, it isn’t.

“I’m going to head out for a breather,” you tell Jeongyeon loudly over the music, and she doesn’t seem to hear your words but with the way you’re pointing at the back door, she figures out what you’re saying. Nodding with a thumbs up, she smiles before turning back to dance along with her friends as you slip out of the huddle of people.

You notice a familiar face from the corner of your vision, but you feel too hot and the air is too stuffy for you to bear another second longer, escaping to the backyard.

It’s quiet outside. The night air is cool, and you now realize why no one is out in the pool like they usually are. Looking down at your feet, you contemplate your next actions for a moment before rolling up the hem of your pants until your knees and sitting by the edge of the pool, dipping in your legs.

You hiss at the cool feeling for a moment, but quickly adjust—you’ve been feeling too hot all evening and this is exactly what you need to take a moment to calm down. Alcohol has never quite been your best friend, the liquid always sending a flush of heat through your whole body.

The water soothes you, and you feel at peace for a moment. Then there’s the sound of the door sliding open and a familiar patter of footsteps thuds against the concrete.

“Isn’t the water cold?” Jeonghan says casually, standing next to you.

You shrug. “I needed to cool down.”

“Hm, fair,” he murmurs, sitting down himself and crossing his legs on the concrete edge of the pool. “It’s been a minute.”

“Has it?” you reply quietly. Yeah. It’s only been six months. You don’t let Jeonghan know that you’ve been counting.

“You don’t stop by to drop off the old pastries anymore,” he says. “Mingyu tries to make croissants now, but it’s the one thing he isn’t great at baking.”

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol speaking but you’re blunt when you respond, “That sucks.” Jeonghan laughs quietly, nodding. He isn’t used to you being like this —when Cheol said you were different, he wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t really this.

“How’s school? You working on your thesis and shit?”

You shrug. “I guess. Busy times.”

“You’re being awfully cold,” Jeonghan says with a tick of his tongue. “D’you not have any drinks—you’re always more fun when you’re drunk.”

“Thanks,” you mutter with furrowed eyebrows. Yejin used to tell you that.

“Sorry, that was rude,” Jeonghan says quickly when he notices how you still. “I didn’t mean it like that—I mean, I guess everyone is more fun when they’re drunk.” You chuckle a little at that and he lets out a sigh of relief at the fact that he’s able to get you to loosen up, even just a little. There’s an awkward silence that settles over the two of you as he watches you as you kick your feet in the water. Jeonghan thinks he might take his chances.“He misses you.”

You feel tears well up in your eyes, and you really hope Jeonghan doesn’t notice. You hate how you know who he’s talking about right away, not needing to say the name. “Jeonghan,” you say, and you know that your wobbly voice gives it all away, “Do you really think that’s fair?”

He says your name, and you turn away.

“Do you think that’s fair to me?” Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, so you continue. “He misses me? What about me? What about how I feel? Has Cheol thought about that? Has he?”

“I’m not trying to say it’s fair, I’m just telling you how he’s feeling—”

“Okay? There isn’t much for me to do about it,” you reply quickly. “Cheol and Yejin—” you let out a humorless laugh, “—it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair. I was able to deal with it. I’m sure Cheol can too.”

“He’s really upset with himself for it,” Jeonghan tries to reason. “Even when he was with Yejin. They’d have arguments about it.”

“Okay? It’s not like I asked him to do that. It’s not like he was my friend to tell me about it.”

“Well if you would just listen—”

“No, you listen,” you say firmly, scrunching up your eyebrows. “Did you know what Yejin said to me the last time we spoke?” Jeonghan shakes his head. “She told me I was boring,” you spit out, and you realize that it’s the first time you’ve ever actually recounted that night to anyone but yourself. “And that she wasn’t even mad that I liked Cheol, but that she hated how I let her have him.” You pause to wipe away some tears. “And she was right. I didn’t put myself first. I could have told Cheol first, could’ve worked things out before she found out, could’ve done something for him, but I didn’t, and I’m not going to make that same mistake again so right now I am going to put myself first.”

Jeonghan is frowning now at the intake of all this information. It’s his first time hearing your side of the story, and he can’t help but get confused with the different timeline’s he’s got going on inside of his head. “Is this really putting yourself first?” he finally asks, and you glare at him.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying. He was your best friend for a whole decade. Maybe having him back in your life will do more good than you think.”

You scoff. “You mean do Cheol more good to his life. Don’t look at me like that—what do you know about me that makes you so sure of this?”

“Cheol knows you, you know him, and as far as I know, you could use a friend or two.”

“Thanks for calling me friendless,” you say dryly. “But in case you haven’t noticed, I’m fine. I am over it, and I don’t mind having two less friends. And either way, Cheol couldn’t have been that good of a friend if he was willing to just let go of me like that after all those years.” Jeonghan stays silent. “I don’t need more drama in my life anyways,” you conclude, pulling your feet out of the water and standing up.

“You’re not going to give him a second chance?”

You don’t answer as you walk away.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, for once in his life. Okay that is an exaggeration, but it’s the first time in a few months that he isn’t stumbling over himself at a party. It’s the first time in a long while that he hasn’t even had a sip of alcohol at this outing, and honestly, he’s quite proud of himself.

He knows why that is, and he isn’t afraid to admit it. When Joshua walks past him and gives him a funny look, Cheol knows what’s up. “No drinks?” Joshua asks, quirking up a brow.

“Joshua,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised his friend can even hear him over the music. “Jeonghan is talking to her.”

Joshua purses his lips. “Yeah, I know.”

Choi Seungcheol is quiet at a party, for the first time in…well pretty much ever. He isn’t under the influence, but it feels like everything is racing through his mind at a hundred miles per hour. Leaning against the wall, Joshua softens his gaze.

“Loosen up,” he says, and then thinks again. “And please don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not drunk,” Cheol scoffs, standing up straight as he glances out the back door, watching you kick the pool water. He remembers his birthday party over a year ago—the pool, you, Yejin, fun. Cheol walks away, not sure where he’s heading and Joshua, using his better judgment, doesn’t follow.

Choi Seungcheol isn’t drunk, but he might as well be out of his damn mind.

Tonight is not your night.

Your head is pounding. You fucking hate it. You don’t like getting drunk, at least not like this. Not in the way that you’re seeing two of everything. Not in the way that your body feels like it’s on fire, sweat soaking your sheen black shirt. Not in the way that you’re thinking about everything you shouldn’t.

After your conversation with Jeonghan, you realize you don’t have an answer. Pandora’s box is too tempting, and all your better judgment tells you to leave this door closed. To bury it up, throw it into the ocean, burn it—anything to keep it away from you, but the alcohol that courses through your veins brings the memories flooding back.

Now, you aren’t sure if your head hurts from thinking about Cheol, or from the alcohol, or both.

It’s too much.

You lean against one of the steps as you sit on the stairs, clutching a bottle of water close to your chest. Jeongyeon is…she’s fuck knows where. You lost track of her hours ago—after you came back in from the backyard, you got lost in conversations with people you haven’t caught up with in ages, and one thing led to the next and now you’re on nth drink.

You feel dizzy and the cup in your hand without the water bottle slips past your fingers and before you can act quick enough, the cup is tumbling down the two steps in front of you and spilling all over the floor. Granted, it isn’t the only mess made in this house tonight, and by the looks of it, it won’t be the last, but you still feel bad, quickly scrambling up to pick up your cup and find some tissues.

As you lean forward and stumble over the steps a little, you realize your center of gravity is off and you’re about to fall forward, quickly holding out your hands to brace your fall. As you land on the ground with a thud, your mind spins—everything spins, you feel too warm, and then you feel your drink stain your pants in the spot you fell onto and—fuck, this really is too much for you.

Maybe you should’ve just accepted what Jeongyeon said. Maybe—fuck, who are you kidding—parties definitely don’t suit you. You’d be a fool to deny that now, especially when you’re aching to just leave already, even though you never made any plans of getting home.

That problem that you saved to deal with “at a later time” is becoming a problem you need to deal with now and you race through your options, all while seated on the floor, forgetting about how you need to clean up this mess.

It’s when your head starts to hurt and you scrunch up your face in hopes to soothe your headache when you hear his voice. A warm hand wrapped around your wrist and then it’s pulling you up and onto your wobbly legs. “Let’s get you out of here,” Cheol mumbles, and without weighing the consequences of your actions, you nod along.

You don’t care anymore. You need to leave, and if Cheol is the path to getting out, you won’t mind.

When his arms lead you out the front door and into the night, you feel cold. Extremely cold. Maybe it’s because your body is so warm, maybe it’s because the wet alcohol on your pants is sending shivers up your spine—maybe it’s that you’re starting to slowly realize who you’re with.

Standing on the grass, you aren’t sure what to do now. What should you do? What does Cheol want you to do—you stop yourself. It shouldn’t matter what he wants you to do, you remind yourself, so why do you find your gaze lazily making its way over to his face?

Fuck ignorance and its bliss. Right now, you want to know what Cheol is thinking. He’s looking down at you, and suddenly you feel small. His face isn’t demeaning, it’s not angry, he’s not upset, but you just feel so pathetic.

And god, do you hate that word. It echoes in your head. Your dirtied pants, flushed and puffy cheeks, disheveled hair, all as you struggle to stand up—pathetic. You turn away from him, not being able to watch him watch you any longer.

“Let me drive you home,” he says finally over the thick air.

“You’re drunk,” you protest mindlessly—you don’t have a clue if that’s true at all, but knowing Cheol, it probably is.

“I haven’t had anything all night.” Nevermind, you tell yourself, maybe you don’t know him at all. Can six months really change a person that much?

Cheol is thinking the same thing about you. Your eyes are glossy and you look so out of it and he can’t even remember the last time he saw you like this—the only memories he has are when you first got drunk with him and Yejin in high school. The memory shoots an arrow at his heart, but he brushes off the feeling, focusing on you right now.

“Trust me,” he says. You blink a few times, staring at the ground, then at the sky, and then at Cheol. “Trust me,” he repeats, and now you remember just how well you know him. Cheol isn’t asking right now, no, he’s begging. You think as deeply as your wasted mind will let you.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

Cheol hurt you. Yejin hurt you.

Is this about Yejin? No.

Do you trust Cheol? No.

What is this about? I don’t know.

Do you trust Cheol? I don’t know.

Can you trust Cheol? …

He places a hand on your shoulder and the touch is firm.

Can you trust Cheol? Of course you can.

His eyes are soft as you look up at him.

Do you trust Cheol? Absolutely.

Optimism would say that you left the door unlocked. Joshua would disagree and say that you weren’t going to be inside even if the door was wide open. Jeonghan, surprisingly, doesn’t agree with Joshua—your words were harsh, but the water streaming down your cheeks told him that there was more going on in your head than you let on.

Seungcheol tends to only listen to what he wants to hear, at least that’s what all his friends have noticed. They saw it with Yejin—ignoring all the red flags, late nights of arguing until Cheol would murmur, “it’s fine, let’s just go to sleep.” Reality wasn’t the easiest for him to face, and now it’s more apparent than ever.

“He’s too optimistic about her,” Joshua sighs, throwing himself onto his friend’s couch the morning after. He slept over at his friends’ place, and they follow carefully behind him now.

“He still has hope?” Mingyu asks incredulously, sitting on an armchair.

“Too much of it,” Joshua replies, sitting up straight so that there’s room for Jeonghan on the couch.

“She’s still nice to me,” Mingyu says thoughtfully. “Maybe she doesn’t hate him.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” Jeonghan says. “She’s still close friends with Joshua, so I don’t think she’s going to let that whole situation get in the way of her own friendships.”

Joshua nods in agreement, adding, “That, and I never said she hated Cheol.”

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows. “She doesn’t?”

“I don’t think she ever did,” Joshua says honestly, leaning back into the cushions as he stretches his arms.

“Really? I would’ve,” Mingyu admits and Jeonghan rolls his eyes.

“We know that you would,” he teases, causing the taller boy to pout but keep his mouth shut. “Anyways, I think Cheol is going to keep trying.”

“I know he will,” Joshua mutters, running a hand over his face. “He’s going to go in circles after her.”

“She’s not gonna give in?” Mingyu asks, and Joshua shakes his head, but Jeonghan puts his hand up in protest.

“I think she might eventually come ‘round to a stop,” he says, and Joshua shoots him a look of surprise. “I dunno, I know you and her are close, but I just have a feeling. We’ll have to see.”

“Don’t let Cheol hear that. He’ll take it as a sign to never stop,” Joshua warns.

Seungcheol doesn’t hear this conversation now or ever, but he never had plans of stopping in the first place. He was always more optimistic than you—than anyone you knew, really—and anyone who knows him should know better than to underestimate the extent of his determination.

Jeonghan and Joshua are making that mistake right now, and even though Cheol will never know what they said, he is determined to prove them wrong, for the sake of his own sanity.

Jeongyeon picks up the phone after the first ring. “I am so sorry,” she babbles into the line. “I—fuck—we should’ve figured out a ride—I mean I should’ve figured out a ride since I basically forced you to come and I knew I would be drinking and—god, I am so sorry.”

Your head rings at the way her voice blares through the phone, and you sit up and against your headboard. You woke up only moments ago, greeted by a million texts from Jeongyeon, not bothering to soothe your hangover headache before calling her back—she must have been worried, you told yourself.

“It’s okay,” you mumble, reaching over to grab some water from your bedside table. “I got a safe ride home.”

“Yeah, Joshua told me…but still, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you to find a ride on your own.” “Don’t apologize Jeongyeon, I left you without a ride too so stop apologizing or else you’ll start to make me feel bad.”

You can hear her huff on the other end, and you smile. “Okay fine, but seriously. I’ll cover one of your shifts or something soon because I feel bad for even taking you. You looked miserable.”

“That was only because Jeonghan came up to me,” you tell her honestly.

“Jeonghan? Like Seungcheol’s friend?” she says, and you can tell from her voice that she’s hesitating to even say his name.

“Yes,” you sigh softly. Jeongyeon wants to know more, you can feel it, but you aren’t in the mood to bring it up, at least not with her. “It’s whatever. I’ll see you Wednesday?”

She pauses for a moment, seemingly trying to comprehend your quick switch of topics. “Uh, sure. Text me if you need anything, okay?”

“Mhm,” you hum, pulling back your phone as you click to hang up. Letting your head fall back onto your pillow, you inhale deeply. You remember the night before too vividly—even if you were drunk, there was too much happening for you to forget.

You know you can’t forget, so you decide to do just what you’ve been doing for the past half year: ignore. It’s what you’re best at, after all. Yet as your day goes on, your mind begins to trail off. You think, and you think, and you think until you aren’t sure what was real and what was not from last night.

You start to realize that you aren’t as good at ignoring as you like to think.

“You think too much,” Hyunwoo jokes, watching you stare at the shot of espresso in front of you. You’d made it for yourself as an attempt to feel more energized after your lecture, but you find yourself zoning out as the small cup sits on the counter, waiting for you to gulp it down.

“Uh, sorry,” you murmur, shaking your head a little. “This shift is light and we haven’t had any customers in a few minutes so I just…”

“It’s fine,” Hyunwoo replies with a smile, and you purse your lips. Ever since Joshua told you that Hyunwoo likes you, you’ve been warning yourself to tread lightly. Not that he isn’t a good guy—Hyunwoo is great—he’s just not your type.

What is your type? The thought is swept out of your mind before you even come up with an answer, swooping up the shot of espresso and holding it up to your lips.

It’s been three days since the party, and you haven’t talked to Joshua in a minute, so your mind is slightly frazzled. Hyunwoo is nice, but you miss the comfort of your close friend, and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he has anything to say about Cheol driving you home that night.

You’re sure he does—you can already predict his words: “you told yourself you wouldn’t talk to him.” Joshua might be harsh with his words, but you feel with the way you’ve been losing your damn mind recently, you need someone like him to bring you back to reality.

Maybe that’s what went wrong with you, with Cheol, with Yejin—with the three of you. You and Cheol were too lost in fantasies, Yejin always holding you two down. She was right—Cheol wouldn’t like you. Two people who didn’t know a reality other than their imaginations couldn’t work out.

Cheol needed someone to ground himself, you needed someone to ground yourself, and at the end of the day, Yejin chose to help him. You still think about what you would have done if you were in her situation, and after months, you can’t come up with an answer.

You remember the events leading up to her decision like it’s as clear as day, and no matter how many times you replay that moment, you don’t know what to think, except that you’re angry, you’re sad—they left you.

“I heard you and Joshua,” Yejin tells you quietly, and you feel your heart stop. “You like Seungcheol?” and the way she uses his full name makes you feel almost ashamed for confirming it with a nod.

“I—” you pause, “—I didn’t know you liked him.”

“I love him,” she corrects you.

“Oh,” is all you manage out.

“You’re pathetic.”

That was the start of it. Yejin sent Chaeyoung over the next day to pick up her stuff from your apartment. You didn’t hear another word from Cheol. The last thing you remember him saying to you was from that night is still a jumble in your head.

You hate crying, and everyone knows it. So when you sprint out of the room minutes after Yejin, eyes red and puffy, Cheol knows something is wrong. Before he can walk up to you, there’s a hand on his shoulder and Yejin has her head pushed up next to his ear.

You don’t know what she tells him, but his gaze falters. The last thing you hear him say is your name quietly as you rush away.

That night, Joshua drives you home while you think about how you’re going to tell your mother that Cheol and Yejin won’t be coming to your house for spring break.

That was six months ago. Of course, six months pales in comparison to the decade you spent as friends. The years from middle school, to high school, to college—you three side by side. Things changed so quickly, too quickly.

Sometimes you think about what she might’ve told him—what she could’ve said that made him turn away at every gathering you were both at after that. That made him erase the years you shared before all this. That made you all strangers.

You figure things like this will never make sense to you. You don’t understand now, and you probably never will—you are content with that.

At least, up until three days ago you were. Some small voice in your head is reminding you of the confusion, the hurt, the heartbreak you felt when it all happened. Now, you’re more desperate than ever to know what exactly happened, it’s just a matter of if you’re willing to go down this rabbit hole of reconnection.

It’s like the universe hears you and laughs. The ringing of the door fills the little cafe and you’re pushing yourself off the counter, nodding and Hyunwoo. “I got it,” you tell him, dropping your cup in the sink and walking over to the register.

Of course it’s Cheol standing in front of you. You can’t tell if he found out your schedule from Joshua (but no, Joshua wouldn’t do that to you) or if it’s just something like fate. Fate.

You sigh, preparing yourself for yet another onslaught of thoughts. “What can I get you?”

There’s something mischievous glinting in his eyes. “Don’t you remember my usual?” Cheol attempts, and you’re surprised by his forwardness. Don’t be shocked, you think. Cheol never backs down, never stops trying.

Do you give in? Just this once? He did help you out that night—you aren’t sure if you’d be able to get home in one piece if it weren’t for him. Then again, it could’ve just been one of Cheol’s kind favors, something that isn’t reserved for only you, but just any drunk girl in general. You don’t want to mistake his qualities of a gentleman with him holding out a figurative olive branch.

Trust me, his words are like a broken record in your mind.

You’re thinking too much. Fuck, if he didn’t hold out the olive branch that night, you’re going to try to now.

“Iced latte with hazelnut syrup,” you say quietly, tapping it into the tablet. You’re scared to look up because you know he's grinning. You shouldn’t want to be the reason behind his smiles, but you do.

“Thanks,” he chirps, holding out his card so you can turn around the tablet for him.

“Your order will come out on your left,” you tell him, not looking up. You expect things to stop now, for things to quietly go back to normal.

“Hey, when do you get off?”

You do a double take to make sure you heard him correctly. “Sorry?” You finally look up at him and god, you start to remember why you loved his smile so much.

“I asked when you get off from your shift? Six?”

“I—uh, yeah,” you reply without thinking. “How’d you know?”

“That’s when Joshua gets off on Fridays. Just a guess,” he shrugs. You purse your lips and don’t respond, not sure where to take things from here; yeah you held out the branch but you didn’t expect him to grab it just this quickly. “Can I stay until then?”

You should say no. You really should say no. But then you’re thrown back to three days ago and the words are sounding an awful lot like trust me, trust me, and then you realize you just can’t deny him.

“Okay,” you say softly. You can tell from the look of relief on Cheol’s face that he wasn’t expecting this, and you aren’t sure what to take from that. As you turn to make his drink, you glance at the clock. Thirty seven minutes before your shift ends, and you can’t figure out if you’re going to try and make the time before them fly or go slow.

Handing Cheol his drink, you don’t say anything, your movements swift as you try and unbox your own feelings. Of course, you aren’t given the liberty to do that, not when Hyunwoo is standing in front of you.

“Is that Seungcheol?”

“Take a wild guess,” you mutter, closing your eyes tightly for a moment. Maybe if you think hard enough you’ll realize it’s just a dream where your actions have no real consequences.

“I thought you two didn’t talk.”

“Did Joshua tell you that?”

“Kind of…maybe…I sorta figured it out on my own,” Hyunwoo admits. “Sorry, that sounds weird.” You sigh softly, feeling bad for how flustered Hyunwoo is.

“It’s okay…let’s just get back to work,” you suggest, turning away to clean up some of the counters with your extra time.

You don’t notice it, but Cheol watches the conversation between you and Hyunwoo unfold, and while he can’t hear what you two are saying, he has a feeling he won’t like it. He has to remind himself to not have high expectations, to not get his hopes up, just like Jeonghan and Joshua warn, but he just can’t help it.

But when you agree to see him after your shift (he knows you didn’t technically agree to that, but he knows you and is sure that you caught onto his underlying message), he just has to stay hopeful. So as he patiently waits for the clock to strike six, he thinks about what to say.

To be honest, this all happened on a whim. Again, he didn’t really know that you were working today, he just happened to get lucky. Cheol himself isn’t sure what exactly he wants to say to you, he just knows it is a lot.

He thinks about you a lot. The good, the bad, all the in between—Seungcheol misses you. And he knows that it isn’t fair, that he shouldn’t do this, that he doesn’t have the right—Joshua has made that clear to him on numerous occasions.

“She’s fine without you.”

“But—”

“You don’t have a say about being in her life.”

“And you do?” Cheol shoots out.

Joshua steps back. “I don’t either, but I know how she’s doing better than you. I know how she felt after everything happened.”

Cheol pauses. That, Joshua did. Cheol didn’t know anything, did he? “This isn’t about you, it’s about me and it’s about her.”

“There is no you and her,” Joshua says bluntly. Cheol doesn’t say anything, but he knows in his mind that he needs to change that.

Cheol lets the idea run through his mind, that he's making a royal mistake right now, and all this is going to amount to nothing. He doesn’t mull over it for longer than ten seconds. He is going to do this, and if he doesn’t, he’d be damned if he didn’t at least try.

You get off your shift while Hyunwoo continues his. “You’re going to talk to him?” he asks with knitted eyebrows, pointing at Cheol.

“Uh, yeah,” you say sheepishly in the back, untying your apron. “Don’t tell Joshua, he’ll kick my ass,” you add, only only half joking. Joshua definitely won’t let you hear the end of this, but that is another problem for another time. Hanging up your apron, you grab your backpack from the shelf and slip to the back door. “See you later!” you chirp, throwing Hyunwoo one last wave before you enter the seating area from the back to make your way to Cheol who’s sitting at an elevated stool by the window.

Your once confident strides are much smaller now, you find yourself holding back each one more and more. Do you really want this? Trust me. You’ll just have to find out. “Hey,” you say quietly, and this time you don’t let your gaze fall, tapping on Cheol’s shoulder. He turns around quickly, straw in his mouth as he drinks the half finished drink with a smile.

“Hey, you’re early,” he states casually, glancing at the time. It’s 5:57.

“I guess,” you reply, voice as still as you can manage.

“You’ve probably been here for a while,” Cheol murmurs to himself, getting up from his seat. “You want to go on a walk? The weather is nice right now.”

You want to roll your eyes and tease him, saying “it’s August, of course the weather is nice,” but you stop yourself—you aren’t sure if you’re ready for that level of comfort yet. “Sure,” you agree instead, adjusting your bag over your shoulder as you follow him out the door and onto the main street.

“How was work? Stopped working at the bakery, huh?” he says, and you just don’t get it. How is he being so casual? How is he acting like this is the first time you two have had a real conversation in months? How is he—you don’t even realize you’ve stopped walking until he calls out your name. God, you really missed how it sounded when he said your name. “What’s wrong?”

You don’t even think before responding. “What do you think is wrong?” Cheol is standing a few feet in front of you and the look on his face is confusing…you can’t read it. You aren’t sure if it’s because he’s confused, or if it’s because you just aren’t used to this, or what. Whatever it is, you don’t like it.

“I’m sorry,” Cheol says softly, stepping forward. You still don’t move. “I—uh shit, sorry—this,” he brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, “this is weird, you’re right I just, I don’t know—”

“Is there something you want to say?” Your eyes bore into his, and Cheol knows he can’t keep any secrets from you.

“I’m sorry.”

You nod. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks hopefully.

“What do you want me to say?” you ask with a shrug. “Sorry for what?”

“A lot of things. Everything,” Cheol admits, and your eyes widen slightly at his honesty. You pretend to glance down at your watch.

“Well you’re going to have to be more specific,” you tell him truthfully, “and don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’ll come again!” he says quickly, holding his hands up as you’re about to walk towards your car. “When do you work? Tell me. I’ll come after every shift.”

“I work almost everyday.”

“I’ll come everyday,” he says with no hesitation. Your heart tightens. You a month ago would have said fuck no, but then trust me, trust me is echoing in your head again and before you can stop yourself, you’re nodding.

“Mondays and Tuesday I get off at 6, Wednesdays at 9, Thursdays at…”

You used to believe Seungcheol always lived up to his promises. When you were younger, you couldn’t think of a single time when he didn’t go by his word. You trusted him, always, so when he broke the promise of “we’ll stick together”—arguably the only one that actually mattered—you were shattered. You still are, or at least your trust is.

Right now, Cheol promises he’ll come see you after every shift. You don’t think you should trust him, but you do anyway, watching the clock to make sure he’s always here on time. You tell yourself you do it because you don’t like to be kept waiting, but you know deep down that you’re just trying to find an excuse.

You’re trying to justify your distrust, even though you already have a perfectly good reason for being tentative around Cheol. Somehow, whenever you’re with him, you forget about it all.

It’s awkward most of the time. Well, more like you’re awkward and Cheol just pretends you aren’t, acting all normal and like you aren’t stumbling over your words and blanking out mid sentence.

You’re not nervous, you just don’t know what to say, the words getting lost in your head as you wonder whether or not there’s a line and where it is and if you should cross it.

Today is the fifth day Cheol comes to see you after your shift. He comes in at 6:54 which is a bit earlier than usual, and it’s the first time that Joshua is seeing the scene unfold. As Cheol walks in, your friend throws you a careful glance before waving over at his friend and connecting fists as he hops over to take his order.

“Iced latte with—”

“I’m not here for a drink,” Cheol says quickly, putting his hand up before he can watch Joshus key in his usual order.

“Huh…did I miss something?” Joshua asks, checking his watch for any missed messages. You chew your lip and Cheol glances at you, realizing that you haven’t told Joshua that you and him are speaking again.

“Uh, no,” Cheol murmurs. He points at you and when he sees that you don’t protest, he proceeds. “We’re, uh, I’m just waiting for her shift to end and—” he stops talking when Joshua whips his head around to stare at you with a look of bewilderment.

You nod shyly, untying your apron as you make your way to the back room. Joshua follows quickly behind you, closing the door behind him while you hang up the garment. “What does he mean by that?”

“I dunno, Josh,” you say, because honestly you aren’t sure how to explain it either.

“Remember what you said?” he tells you—you know where this is headed, and you really don’t want him to bring it up. “You said you’d never forgive them.”

You did say that. “In a moment of anger,” you argue, grabbing your bag. You know he’s just being protective of you, but right now it’s getting on your nerves.

“And? You’re just going to forgive him because he drove you home when you were drunk?”

“I haven’t forgiven him!” you pause. “At least not yet.”

“You’re seriously going to forgive him after all that you said about moving on?”

“I have moved on, Joshua,” you tell him. It’s true. “There’s nothing wrong with letting him back in my life now, especially if he wants to.”

“And what if he fucks up again?”

You roll your eyes as you walk to the back door. “How’s that supposed to happen? Thought you said he and Yejin broke up?”

“They did, but that isn’t the point.”

“Then what is?” you ask exasperatedly. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. You’re acting like I don’t know the consequences of my actions. You’re acting as if I wasn’t the one who had to go through all that, so please just let me make this decision.”

Joshua steps back and sighs, and by the way he doesn’t say anything as you open the door, you assume he has accepted defeat.

Cheol meets you on the other side of the door, wearing his usual smile. You can only pray that he didn’t hear your conversation with Joshua. “Hey,” he greets and you nod in response. Well if he heard anything, he pretends he doesn’t. The truth is, Cheol hears every word, he’s just very good at putting a smile on his face.

You two walk out of the store silently and side by side. “How was work?” Cheol asks.

“Good. It’s most fun with Joshua,” you reply, walking on the sidewalk like you two usually do. You follow a trail down the street and through some parks for kids, always making a round trip back to your cafe where your car is parked.

The days have been getting shorter, and it’s evident by the way the sky is painted a deep orange right now. “Didn’t sound like he’s too happy today,” Cheol comments, and you halt your steps for just a moment, realizing he did hear you two.

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble. You two haven’t talked about that since you started speaking again. All the things Cheol said he wanted to apologize for were left suspended in the air, waiting for one of you to pluck it out and face reality. Neither of you were ever really good at that. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.” 

“I’m sorry you had to say that,” Cheol responds almost instantly, standing in the middle of the sidewalk and turning to face you.

Your eyebrows furrow when you respond, “What?”

“I mean, shit, I worded that badly,” he groans, bringing a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I’m sorry that…you know—you said you’d never forgive me and I’m sorry. And I know you probably shouldn’t forgive me but I’m sorry.”

You certainly weren’t expecting that, but then again, you need to remind yourself to never be surprised when it comes to Cheol. You bite back the words, “it’s okay,” because you aren’t ready to say that, so instead you just nod. “Okay.” Your eyes glaze around your surroundings and they fall on a bench. Pointing at it, you say, “Let’s sit, yeah?”

You two sit side by side on the bench, and you think that this is the closest either of you have been in a long time, your thighs almost brushing against each other’s. The sky darkens above you, and you usually would take this as your cue to go back to your car, but tonight, you stay.

There’s a question that’s prodding at the back of your mind, and you chide yourself for even thinking about it. Don’t ask him, don’t do it, and you almost listen. Almost. You figure that the fact that you’re even here with Cheol right now is a sign that things are changing more than they already have, that you’re changing in ways that you didn’t know you could, and Cheol is changing, and he’s changing for you.

Cheol senses it too, that you’re thinking deeply, and he waits. When you’re finally lifting your head and looking up at the sky, he turns to you as you open your mouth. “How did you guys break up?” You can’t bring yourself to say “you and Yejin.” It’s too painful of a reminder that there was once a Cheol and Yejin, and that it came at the expense of you and Cheol and Yejin.

He takes a deep breath and hesitates, but you don’t retract your question. You feel after everything, you deserve to know, no matter how aching the memory is. “She cheated on me.”

“Oh.”

Cheol’s voice is flat for the first time since you’ve started speaking again. “Yeah,” he mutters. You purse your lips together, unsure of what to do, what to say. There was a time that you felt you knew all the right words, all the right things to do, but now you’re lost. Maybe it’s because Cheol has changed, but then—no, it’s not him, it’s you. You’ve changed. You thought you didn’t care, and that was true.

You didn’t care about what happened to Cheol or Yejin or them because they had left you and there was nothing after that. You didn’t care because caring wouldn’t help you get either of them back, and you didn’t care because caring only made long nights of you crying in your bed even longer.

But did you ever stop caring about Cheol? About Yejin? There’s a fine line, you realize, between caring about your relationship with someone and caring about them, and it hits you that not once did you not care about Cheol.

What would you have done if this had happened six months ago? What would you have said? You were never the best at words, but when it came to Cheol and Yejin, you always found some way to make them feel better. Looking over at Cheol, his head hangs low as he chews on his lip.

You reach over your hand and place it on his shoulder gently. “I’m sorry,” you tell him.

Cheol chuckles hollowly, causing you to frown deeply. “Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?”

“We have time for that later,” you reply honestly, not breaking the contact even when he shifts a little, finally looking up at you.

“Later?” he asks hopefully. You smile and nod. This is a promise, you both know. Joshua is going to kill you for this later.

“He got fired?” you snort. “Didn’t he say he could get away with anything?”

“Yeah,” Cheol chuckles. “And to be fair, he did get away with a lot. Honestly, I’m surprised he didn’t get fired months ago. He would give me and Soonyoung discounts all the time, it was crazy.”

“I remember that…” you say quietly.

“Yeah, anyways, he got fired and now he’s complaining about not having extra cash. Minghao’s telling him to just find another job but Hannie is convinced that he’ll be able to convince his boss to hire him back…”

“Knowing Jeonghan, he might just be able to pull that off.”

“Who knows,” Cheol murmurs with a shrug. “It’s late. Do you want to go?”

“Want me gone already?” you tease. Things are more comfortable now. It isn’t the same as before—how could it—but it’s getting there. You aren’t sure you’ll ever be “back to the old days,” but you sure are trying to get as close as you can.

“You know that isn’t true,” he shoots back. You trust him, and if that’s a mistake, you hardly care. Maybe this is where you start to crumble. “I’m just trying to make sure that it’s not too late when you get home.”

He’s being caring, although it isn’t unexpected. Cheol was always caring. “You’re right,” you murmur, not wanting to admit that you might have wanted to sit here and talk to him a bit longer. You stand up, grabbing your back and he follows after you as you walk up the street in the direction of the shop. You return back to the conversation of Jeonghan and his antics both in and out of the workplace, and before you know it, you’re back at the parking lot.

You’ve grown to look forward to these meetings—how could you not—and it does kill a little bit of self control inside of you every time you realize that fact.

“You gonna go now?” he asks softly, and as you stop walking, you let the tension grow thick. This part is always awkward. You don’t know if it’s fitting to say “bye” or “goodbye” or “see you later” or hug him or wave or—you usually settle for a smile but there’s a growing ache in your heart which tells you that maybe you want more.

Cheol seems to think the same, and it all happens so quickly, too quickly, and suddenly you’re going dizzy and your world is spinning.

Choi Seungcheol’s lips are soft.

And they don’t press against yours for more than a second before you place your hands on his chest and push him back. You almost indulge. Almost.

“Why would you do that?” you whisper, not meeting his gaze. Cheol runs a hand through his hair, steeping back with wide eyes.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, I am so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking—shit, shit, shit—I’m sorry, I’m so sor—”

You ball your fists and your face contorts into some ugly sort of grimace. “Stop saying that!” you cry out, and Cheol stills. “Stop fucking saying you’re sorry! I-I-I hate it!”

“What?” and the hurt is more than evident in his voice.

“I know you’re sorry, okay? I get it,” you tell him exasperatedly. “And you keep saying it—you’re sorry for everything, you’re sorry for all of it. It’s all you say, but maybe if you just stopped and thought for a second you’d realize that no matter how much you keep saying it, I have not once said it’s okay.”

He gapes at you for a moment but recovers quickly, running a hand through his hair. “I—” he pauses, “I don’t know how else to tell you. It’s been a few weeks and—”

“You didn’t speak to me for six months,” you spit out, and you wonder if this is what it’s all going to come down to. The past month of you figuring out your emotions, working out what you want, what’s good for you, what’s not—you’re afraid that right now it will all amount to nothing.

Maybe you two were in your heads too long. Maybe this was your harsh pull back down to the ground.

“Six months, Seungcheol,” you repeat, and he winces when you use his full name.

“I know, I’m s—”

“You’re sorry, I know,” you say quieter this time, slumping against the wall. His lips were so warm, so soft, you still feel their ghost on your lips. You calm down for a second at the thought, but then your anger bubbles up when you remind yourself that Yejin got to taste him too. Got to have him, love him, cherish him for those six months. Jealousy doesn’t suit you, but that isn’t what this is about anyways. Right now, all it does is fuel your heat.

“I just—I don’t know how to really say it,” Cheol admits.

“Well you should figure that out,” you tell him harshly. “I can’t stand here forever, waiting for you to find the right words.”

“You’re right, I know.”

“Do you?” you ask, exhausted. It’s all catching up to you know—you’re tired, so tired.

“I do.”

Do you trust Cheol?

“I don’t believe you,” your voice quivers when you say it, and Cheol feels his heart break at the sound. “I can’t.”

“I know—that’s my fault, I know.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m trying.” You know he is, there isn’t a doubt in your mind. Inhaling deeply, you choose your words carefully.

“We need to talk about everything,” you tell him slowly.

“Okay,” Cheol agrees quickly. “Okay, where do you want to start?”

“Where do you think we should start? I think that’s where we should start.”

Cheol sucks in a breath and pinches his eyebrows together. You can tell that he, just like you, is making sure he doesn’t say anything he’ll regret. “Well, the beginning, I guess,” he sighs, and you open your mouth in protest but he holds his hand out to stop you. “Okay just listen.” “Fine.”

“I found out Yejin liked me in January,” he tells you.

“That was a month before…” your voice trails off and he nods.

“Before we got together and…” And we stopped talking to you. He doesn’t say, doesn’t need to. “Yeah. Chaeyoung told me. Yejin didn’t know I knew until…”

“Until you started liking her,” you mutter under your breath. You furrow your eyebrows and look up at him. “You know I know this, right? Joshua told me when you told him.”

Cheol seems surprised by that. “What, really?” you aren’t sure why he never expected that—you and Joshua are pretty much like siblings, after all.

“Yeah. I think I knew before Yejin,” you admit. Your voice is small, and the way the entire event of six months ago is playing out in your head is a not so nice reminder of why you’re in this situation in the first place.

“Oh.” Silence. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You frown. “What was I supposed to say? ‘No Cheol! Don’t like Yejin! Like me!’” you say in a mocking tone. “Why would I do that to her? Why would I do that to you?” you were calm a moment ago, but you feel yourself growing upset again.

“I thought you—” Cheol thinks for a moment, wondering if he should say it, “—I thought you liked me.”

“I did,” you seethe out. “But did you think I was going to beg you to change your mind? To change your feelings?” Cheol is quiet now, and you take it as your cue to continue. “I…I cared about you and Yejin so much—” that’s a lie (you still do)—“and you should know that if you guys were happy I would be okay with that.”

“What about your feelings? Why didn’t you do anything about that?” Cheol shoots back, and it’s starting to sound an awful lot like your last conversation with Yejin.

“You claim you love him but you’re just willing to give him up like that? That’s pathetic. You are pathetic.”

You feel tears stream down your cheeks at the memory and you need to remind yourself that it isn’t worth crying over—but then again, it is. “I would’ve dealt with my feelings just as I have been for the past six months—by myself and totally fine.”

Cheol doesn’t have a response to that, because if there’s one thing he won’t even attempt to refute, it’s this. Because after everything, you have been okay. You have been healing. It killed him every time Joshua would tell him you’re doing fine, because he wasn’t doing fine and he was having a really, really hard time accepting that.

He knows it’s unfair, Cheol knows he’s being anything but fair, but he just doesn’t know how to help it.

It’s the worst that you’re crying now—crying ‘cause of him. Because Cheol knows that you were okay and it was him that decided to butt back in your life to try and make amends, and you being you, decided to let him back in and fuck—he knows he’s being selfish by doing all this and he know he doesn’t deserve this yet you are still here, trying to hear him out.

“I fucked up, I don’t deserve a second chance.”

You choke back a sob, “Damn right you don’t,” and Cheol knows that you’re right.

“I’m still going to try.”

You brush some tears away from your face. “I know.”

You go home that night without another word, and Cheol only stops you to make sure you’ve stopped crying before you start the car and drive off. It’s the next day, and you can’t help but glance back and forth between the door and clock as your shift nears its end.

“You waiting for him?” Hyunwoo asks you from the side, and you feel a little bit bad at the way his voice sounds a bit sad.

“Uh—” Are you waiting for Cheol? “—I guess, yeah.” There’s no reason for you to deny it. You’ve replayed last night’s conversation more times than you can count, and you still aren’t sure how to feel. You need to see him.

As the time nears six, an uneasy feeling pools at your stomach, and you wonder what you’ll do if he doesn’t show up. End it for good? Add it to the list of reasons why you should never talk to him again? Block h—

The bell above the door ringing saves you from that rabbit hole. It’s 5:59 and Cheol waits in front of the door and for once, he isn’t donning a smile. Looking at Hyunwoo, you throw out a small wave before slipping to the back room. Hyunwoo doesn’t follow you, he stopped doing that after the first two times Seungcheol started coming, although you aren’t sure why. It’s a passing thought though, definitely not at the forefront of your mind as you hang your apron routinely and exit through the back door.

Cheol waits for you by the door and you don’t say anything as you both leave through the front. The atmosphere is thick and you aren’t sure who is going to say what and when. It’s only when you’ve walked around two minutes down your regular path that Cheol stops in front of that bench. Flickering his eyes towards yours for a moment of confirmation, he sits down and motions you to follow. You sit side by side and once again, you two are almost touching, but aren’t quite there just yet.

“So,” you finally say. “Where were we?”

“That night,” Cheol replies quietly, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. You glance over at him and can’t help but realize how…small he looks. You want to reach out and hold him for a moment, but you shouldn’t.

“What about that night?” you murmur. There’s too much about that night for you to even fathom what he’s thinking about.

“What did Yejin say to you? In the room?” he asks.

“Does that matter?” You seriously don't want to recount it, but then Cheol is nodding and you just have to give in. “She was mad…same reason as you,” you mumble.

“What do you mean?”

“Didn’t like how I was accepting of it all,” you sigh, leaning back. “I think she just got sick of me,” you finally confess. “Didn’t like me anymore, and then she thought I was pathetic or something and used that as an excuse to just—I dunno, drop me.” You pause, turning to look at him again. “What did she tell you?”

You know you probably shouldn’t ask. It’ll be painful, you know, but you’re confident you can handle it.

“She said it couldn’t work…the three of us. That it was either me ‘n’ her or nothing, because nothing could go back to normal after this.”

You look down. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You believed her?”

“Well, at the time,” Cheol murmurs, “Yeah I did.”

“Okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Trust me, trust me. “I liked that she liked me. I liked her and I thought I was going to lose you either way and—”

“I said okay.”

“Is it okay?”

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly. “I beat myself up a lot for all that, you know? Wondered what she could’ve said that made you not wanna fight to be my friend.” You scoff to yourself. “I guess we both suck at that.”

“Huh?”

“You know: fighting for what we want,” you clarify.

“That can change,” Cheol says, clearing his throat. “I’m fighting right now.”

That conversation is the first of many. One month later and Cheol is still fighting. It’s your birthday, and you aren’t surprised that he remembers, but you are surprised when he gets you a gift. A new apron. “Your old one is getting…well, old.”

You’re both sitting at the bench once again, and for the first time, your thighs brush against each other’s fully. It’s warm, it’s welcoming, it’s soft. Maybe you and Cheol haven’t finished crossing the bridge yet, but you’ve definitely finished building it. There’s time for the rest later. You want to focus on you and him now.

“I wonder why,” you say sarcastically, taking it out of the bag. “It’s cute—hey, is this my name?” you ask excitedly, holding up the little spot on the top with some letter embroidered in.

“Uh, yeah, it’s custom and all…I got Minghao to help me with the design.” You smile genuinely, turning to him.

“Thank you, I love it.”

“Thank god. Jeonghan said it was a stupid gift but I thought it was thoughtful…”

“Jeonghan once got you a rubber duck for your birthday, so I would take everything he says about gift-giving with a big fat grain of salt.”

“Hey, I still have that duck,” he tells you, and you both laugh together. “It’s in the bathroom, I only take it down for special occasions.”

“Special occasions being…?”

Cheol taps his chin. “Hmm…birthdays, the last day of school, Christmas…I’d like to think my luck is pretty great whenever I use it.”

“Is that so…” you hum. “When was the last time you used it?”

“Like two days ago.”

“Nothing special happened two days ago.” That’s a lie, and he sees right through it.

Cheol smiles smugly. “I know. It was just right before I came to see you.” Your cheeks burn as you turn away.

Two days ago being the last time you and him talked about all of it. From beginning to end, just like you had so many times before except for the first time, you were finally able to utter the words, “it’s okay, we’re okay.”

“Right…maybe luck really was on your side then,” you tease.

“Whatever,” Cheol says with a pout, watching you glance at your phone. “Do you need to go? I thought you didn’t have anything planned?”

“I don’t,” you say with a huff. “I just saw that my birthday gift from my parents got delivered. It’s fine, I’ll pick it up when I get home later.” You ponder whether this is the right moment to bring it up. “You can… come along if you want.”

It’s almost as if his ears perk up. “To your place?”

“Um, yeah,” you try to come off as casual. “Only if you want,” you add quickly, and he picks up on the double meaning right away.

Which is how you end up here.

“Haven’t been here in so long,” Cheol murmurs, looking over your apartment. It’s the exact same, save for some pictures with Yejin and him that have since been taken down. He would have been upset about it a month ago, but now he is content. It only makes it a goal for him to take more pictures with you now so you’ll have some to put up.

“Mhm,” you nod, putting your bag down on your kitchen counter.

“Hey…” he says softly as you flick on one light. It’s dim, but there’s just enough light for you to see the worried look on his face.

“Everything alright?”

He chews on his lips and he looks pretty. “I need to know where your head is at right now,” he admits. There’s a lot of different meanings to what he’s just asked, but with the way he’s looking at you, you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to say. “I don’t want to misread anything like the last time I—the last time.” The last time he kissed you.

You look down at the counter. You brought him here for a reason, but are you ready?

Trust me, trust me.

Of course you are. With Cheol, you’ll always be ready.

So when he’s pushing you up against the wall, hands grappling at your waist, feeling his warm, wet lips against you, you don’t waste a single second thinking about anyone else. You don’t think about what Joshua will say, you don’t think about how Jeongyeon will react, you don’t think about the look on Yejin’s face if she were to ever find out about this because right now, it’s Cheol that’s in front of you, and it’s Cheol that will always be in front of you.

One leg around his torso, your mouth smashes against his in a tangled mess of tongue and lip and it’s desperate and has you aching for more. And then he’s leading you to your bedroom and you are reminded of the fact that Cheol knows this place so well that he doesn’t even need to ask for directions.

Throwing you onto the bed your mind goes blank—it’s as if all the happiness in the world rushes to you at once, leaving you all light-headed and disoriented when Cheol clambers on top of you, his thigh wedged between your legs.

With his fingers pressed deeply into your hips as he runs his tongue along your jawline,rocking  your clothed cunt against Cheol’s bare thigh, his gym shorts hiked up so that you can press your core as close to him as possible. Your breath is slightly labored as his lips press open mouthed kisses all the way down, and you feel yourself become increasingly needy at the way you can see the imprint of his cock against his shorts.

“Shit—you’re so—wait,” he murmurs, pulling his lips away from your burning skin to bore his eyes down at you. “Is this okay?” he asks softly, pulling his knee back so there’s some space between you and him. Cheol doesn’t expect for your eyes to widen, hand shooting out and grabbing his thigh to make sure it doesn’t move another inch.

“Yes,” you gasp out, pulling his leg so hard that he stumbles forward a bit when you do, the hard muscle pressing back against your core. Cheol lets the initial shock of you being needy for him settle in, and suddenly he’s grinning and having one hand back at your waist, the other at your neck so he can tilt your head up and have better access to skin over your collarbone.

His fingers are rough and calloused as they slip beneath your shirt, pushing it up just far enough that your bra is exposed. Hovering above you, you watch through hazy vision as Cheol’s eyes dilate at the sight, swooping his head down to free one of your tits from the cup and catching a nipple in his mouth.

Your body jerks against his as he swipes a tongue over the hardened peak, and suddenly you feel that there’s too much fabric between you and his thigh. “Ch-cheol,” you mutter, tapping at his head that is currently burning beneath your shirt while he sneaks kisses all up and down your stomach, between your tits, and over your cleavage.

“What is it, baby?” he coos, pulling his head out and looking up at you, the pet name shooting shivers up our spine.

“Pants—ah—” you whine when he presses his thigh harder into you. “Pants!” you cry, trying your best to unbutton them with shaky fingers. Cheol picks up right away, helping you unzip them before hooking two fingers on the waistband and yanking the fabric down and over your feet, freeing yourself and your pussy of its unbearable restraints.

“Fuck, this is—you’re so hot,” he murmurs, looking down at your bare legs and tracing his fingers from your ankles to your knees, and then finally through your inner thighs where he bends down and starts to place rough kisses.

Usually, if he was in his right mind, Cheol would have wanted to take his sweet time with you, unraveling, unwinding all of you. But he’s figured that both of you have waited long enough and that you both deserve to be needy, to be desperate, to let this moment pass as quickly as it started because there will be plenty of time for a round two and three later on.

All you need right now is to feel each other, which is how he ends up pushing your panties to the side and digging his tongue into your dripping folds without warning. “Cheol!” you moan loudly, your hand gripping his hair tightly while he simultaneously wraps one arm over your hips, pulling you closer.

Seungcheol is going crazy, he thinks, because the taste of your pussy is better than any alcohol he’s ever drunk. You’re sweet and your cunt is literally fluttering its pretty fuck folds all for him as he slides one finger through them to collect your growing wetness. He feels himself growing high on the feeling and taste alone, his own hips pressing into the mattress in hopes of relieving some of the tension in his own pants.

There’s a slobbering mess that runs down his lips and chin as he fervently makes out with your pussy, and you briefly wonder how a man can be so good at making you feel this good before the thought is swept from your mind by one of Cheol’s thick fingers prodding at your entrance.

Holy hell, you’re so tight for him—gummy walls clamping down on his single digit the second he started to move it in and out’ta you, his mind racing as he thinks about how you might feel around his cock. And Cheol isn’t the only one thinking about it either, because when he’s slipping in another finger, you’re already crying out for more.

“I gotta work you up to it baby,” he tells you sympathetically, using one free hand to shove down his pants leaving him in only a shirt and boxers.

“Don’t wanna wait…” you protest with a pout, eyes shamelessly looking down at his figure hunched over you so you can catch sight of the imprint of his cock against his boxers.

Cheol chuckles, even though he’s on the brink of giving in himself. “Take your shirt off for me, yeah? It’ll save us some time.” That’s all you need to hear before you’re sitting up and yanking the stupidly tight shirt over your head and throwing it to the side as Cheol’s fingers continue their onslaught deep inside your cunt.

It’s less of an in and out motion now, and more of a curling motion that’s exploring you, finding out what makes you hum, what makes you moan, and what makes you go—“Oh fuck, Cheol!” He grins at the sound, leaning down to press a kiss on your clit as he pulls his slick fingers away.

“You wanted more?” he murmurs, slipping his own shirt over his head to reveal the familiar set of abs and toned chest. You let out a dazed smile at the sight, letting your body fall back onto the mattress.

“‘course I do,” you reply without hesitation, watching eagerly as his hand holds the waistband of his boxers and pushes the cloth down, revealing his cock all thick and hard as it springs out and hits his abdomen.

It’s long and it’s thick, and it’s nothing less than what you expected from Cheol, in fact, it’s a lot more than that. But you don’t even have time to think about how pretty his cock looks, pink tip all flushed as a thick vein runs down the side of its length, because it’s pushing against your entrance as he watches your face carefully.

When your eyebrows knit into a convulsion of pleasure and you squeak out his full name, he knows he can't hold back, slamming into your drooling cunt in one go.

And his cock is so big it’s pushing you open, but the pain is so good, so enthralling, that you don’t even mind being split in half if it’s like this—if it’s because every time he pulls his hips back, you know he’ll slam it deeper and deeper every single time, hitting spots deep inside of your cunt that you didn’t even know existed.

All while your limbs are flailing around him, thrashing as you bite into his shoulder, muffling your cries of, “Cheol, Cheol, Cheol!”

Your name falls from his lips too, mixed in with the mindless words of, beautiful, pretty, princess as he compliments you for takin’ him so well and squeezin’ him so good he doesn't know how he hasn’t bust already.

“God, fuck,” he moans when you look up at him through heavy lashes, tethering his boto m lip between his teeth to try and slow his impending orgasm. “Fuck,” he chokes out, “shit—I love you—”

And there is your breaking point. Like the world has come to a stop and there is only you and Cheol and this moment and—god, you really are too far gone now—and him and you is all that matters.

You cum like you never have before, his cock battering your cunt ‘til you’re shaking and crying and yelling out his name as you feel nothing but him, think nothing but him, know nothing but him.

This is the moment you’ve both been waiting for, and as soon as Cheol has noticed your slower breaths he’s pulling out and letting you wrap one hand around his fat cock to help jerk himself off. He’s so close—so fucking close—and then you’re whispering those fated words—those three words—he feels everything in him just snap, hot cum shooting all over your swollen, abused cunt, and Cheol feels his heart swell.

Love.

There’s a lot more you need to work on, you both know that, but it’s okay.

Trust me, trust me.

I love you.

a/n. literally wrote the last part half asleep and i hate the ending but... okay wow … i had a tough time writing this because i really wanted it to be taken slow and i’m not really sure how well it went … also this story might have been a bit a lot of a reflection of a friendship that went wrong in my own life LOL so this might be me playing out how i wish things ended up :/so anyways please sharing ur thoughts and like and reblog!

[zzencat]

5 Urgent Messages You Need To Hear Right Now - Current ⌛️

5 bullet points. Raw, honest, and on the go. What do you need to hear right now? Includes: what to work on, what to be wary of, warnings, hints, potential downsides + rock-bottom consequences.

For better accuracy: Clear your mind. Time is now patient and still. Close your eyes, inhale deeply, fill your chest up to the fullest, feel the soft air brush against the ridges of your nose. Breathe out.

From left to right. Breathe and choose.

——————————-

Pile 1. Not all is what they seem.

if something seems suspicious or too good to be true, it probably is. you can either gain or lose what you have.

some of you will be greatly rewarded for your hard work. beware of who you share your abundance with. be even more careful with the information.

someone you know is two-faced. be careful who you trust. (for most of you, this is someone you know but feel indifferent towards or don’t consider close.)

keep an eye on your material possessions, especially ones that others may envy. don’t leave valuable things around without surveillance.

something that tempts you should be reconsidered—especially with money. weigh your options. count the pros and cons.

Hints: look for the signs, laziness, liars, manipulation, sneaking around, stealing, caught red-handed, someone acting poor, colleagues, fake friends, seemingly likable colleagues, greediness, homelessness (3x), people in power, parents, offers, scams, impulsive spending, pretending to care, bad and hidden intentions, fire signs, scams.

+ failing to do so results in: isolation, fear, anxiety, social withdrawal, unceasing paranoia, loss.

————————————

Pile 2. It’s time to grow up.

laziness is an issue. put effort in your work and prioritize your time wisely.

revenge is not worth it. this is a wake up call to mature and practice humility.

you are worth as much as everyone else. no one is higher or lower. death takes everyone either way.

not everything has to be a fight. not everyone is out to get you. work on defensiveness. learn to let go.

doing more research improves open-mindedness. don’t be afraid to be wrong.

Hints: wasting time on small issues; pettiness; too much time on social media; purposefully engaging in controversial topics; immaturity; gossip; sudden aggression or anger; playing up one’s own importance; merely one among billions; holding grudges; big ego; spoiled; hard time saying sorry; owning up to mistakes; nepotism; the wrong connections; narrow-mindedness, inability to accept criticism or differing views and opinions.

+ failing to do so may result in: being too competitive, poverty/unstable income, irresponsible, ignorant, “puppet,” that people laugh at, no close friends/family, missed opportunities, no control in life, boredom, ignoring hard facts and truths, lacking uniqueness, sheep of the herd, having no dreams, not achieving much, lack of focus, poor social life and skills, jumping on the bandwagon, poor mindset, unlikable personality traits, disingenuous, misery.

——————————

Pile 3. Balance is key.

take breaks from time to time (especially the workaholics.)

rebalance your life. too much of anything is bad.

work on confidence and self-esteem issues.

moving too fast isn’t always a good thing. you will miss what’s happening in the background.

become more resilient. learn to bounce back from bad situations or inconveniences. prepare for sudden heartbreaks.

Hints: not having enough time to appreciate what’s around you; relationship resentment; sudden losses; self- negligence; waiting until it’s too late; stability requires effort; not making time for others in your life; make time for yourself; not considering mental and physical health.

+ failing to do so may result in: unknowingly losing a connection, poor work-life balance, (I’m hearing static- idk why…), not giving attention to loved ones, unintentionally negligent, loneliness, poor adaptation skills, being forced to watch something inevitably fall apart, betrayal, dwelling in sadness, ghosting, confusion, neglected mental health, too long of a hiatus, stagnancy, poor health, poor-to-no social life, no growth in character, absolute ruin.

——————————

**Ending Teddy Note: Hey guys! Hopefully you took something from the reading. These were tough deliveries, but they had to be said. Remember to take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. Reblog or lemme know what you think. I appreciate the feedback. Rmr to stay hydrated!! 😎✌️

[damiansgoodgirll]

hi, I wanted to ask you since it’s my birthday coming up could you please make a short with reader that never celebrate her birthday? And so Damian put a surprise party together for her and she gets emotional thank you so much if you do that❤️❤️❤️

damian priest x reader

taking this time to wish you happy birthday and taking this opportunity to say that today is my birthday too!🩷

‼️soft damian, mention of past family issues, i love damian with all of my heart ‼️

special gift

you weren’t expecting no parties or surprises, knowing that you never celebrated your birthday, you were used to stay at home and buy yourself a small cupcake with blowing a candle just to make a wish.

so when your boyfriend damian asked what you wanted to do for your birthday, you didn’t know what to say. he offered you cinema, shopping spree, dinner date out. whatever you wanted but you couldn’t find a proper answer “i don’t know…” you told him truthfully because you really didn’t know what to do and you definitely didn’t expect him to remember it was your birthday.

“what you mean mariposa?” he was kinda confused. he always celebrated his birthday, his siblings too. he didn’t grow up rich so he never had big parties until he made his own money but his family never missed to celebrate his birthday.

your family on other hand, never really cared, saying that birthday parties were a waste of time and money. you never got presents or cakes so when he asked you what gift you wanted you were speechless, again, for the second time.

“damian really, it’s fine…we could stay here and watch a movie, it’s fine for me” you smiled, a little sad because in all of these years you’ve never got to experience a birthday party but at the same time grateful because damian thought of you.

“are you sure?” he asked, not understanding why you didn’t want to celebrate “what about we go out just me and you? we go to that nice italian restaurant you like? we don’t have to go somewhere else, we can just have a nice dinner together and then celebrate at home…” he suggested. you lied if you said that you didn’t like the idea, you just didn’t want to be a bother for him, especially since your family made you always feel like it.

“you sure? i don’t wanna take too much time from you, especially since bash in berlin is coming up soon…” you were afraid, he could tell, he just couldn’t understand why because you never spoke to him about your personal life. he knew it was an unpleasant conversation for you so he always tried to avoid it because he knew it would make you uncomfortable.

“trust me…it’s going to be fine…plus it’s gonna be just me and you” you knew you couldn’t say no when he begged so nicely. so you agreed, of course.

a couple of hours later you were dressed in a pretty black dress, matching damian’s outfit as he was wearing all black too.

“you look so good amor…i can’t believe you’re all mine” he smiled against your lips, making you chuckle.

“you don’t look bad either señor priest” you whispered leaving soft pecks on his lips.

“we better get going or it will take two seconds for me to remove this pretty dress you are wearing and take you back upstairs” he said, his lips never leaving yours.

“i really hope you can do that after dinner cause i’m starving right now” you teased, making him chuckle.

“i’ll see what i can do mariposa” he gave you one last kiss before taking you out to the car and opening the door for you.

during the whole car drive his hand was on your thigh, making you shiver from time to time.

once at the restaurant you both took your time reading the menu and asking the waiter for more information about the dishes. it was the first time that someone did something nice for your birthday and you wanted to enjoy it. so you took your time eating, talking about the silliest things with him, laughing and chatting. when the delicious piece of cake you both ordered arrived, you saw damian taking out a little box from his pocket. it was tiffany blue box, and before you could say anything damian gave it to you “this is a little present from me…” and now you were completely speechless.

“damian…the dinner is enough, you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“i wanted to” he couldn’t explain how much he loved you “you’re the most important person in my life, i don’t know what i’ll do without you, meeting you eight months ago was the best thing that happened to me in years…i can’t explain it but you brought a light into my life that i thought it was lost” he was getting emotional, you were too.

so you kindly accepted his gift and your heart missed a beat when you saw a beautiful diamond heart shaped necklace inside of the small velvet box “damian…” you were at loss of words “it’s so beautiful”

“it reminded me of you” a tear fell from his eye but he was quick to wiped it away.

“i love it…do you mind?” you asked him, signing that you wanted to wear it immediately. he stood up and he gently placed the necklace around your neck “i love it damian…thank you so much”

“i’m glad you like it” he was genuine.

“thank you for all of this…this is the first time someone does something nice for my birthday” you confessed, you weren’t used to talk about your past and damian never pressure you to talk about it so he was grateful that you were opening up to him “my family never celebrated my birthday…or theirs, they always said that birthdays are a waste of money, so i grew up watching my friends getting spoiled on their special day and lying to them when they asked about my special day…i’ve always said that my parents were the best at making birthday parties, that they always took me out of town when in reality i spent all of my birthdays crying in bed…your necklace is the first birthday present i’ve ever received” he couldn’t believe your words. how can some parents be so mean to their kids? he never had big parties but his parents never missed one of his birthday, even now that he was older, his mom and dad would always come to his parties.

“i’m so sorry love…no kids should be ever treated like that, i know parties can be expensive…you know, my mom used to bake every birthday cake for me and my siblings since we got eighteen, and somehow she still does it, like a personal gift for us” he smiled remembering the old times. your heart ached for that. you couldn’t imagine growing up like that but you were glad someone was able to live their special day at its best “but i promise you y/n that from this day on you’ll never feel like that ever again, we’ll celebrate every single birthday from today and on, you’re safe with me” he said promising it to you.

“okay…” you smiled, thanking him for the amazing night he just spent with you.

“oh but the night it’s not over yet…if i remember i made a promise before leaving the house” he smirked, watching you blush under his gaze. he asked for the bill and left a generous tip for the waiter who assisted you.

you both ended up making out in his car “even if having you naked in the backseat sounds tempting to me, tonight is all about you love, let me take care of you…let’s go home” he whispered against your lips, leaving one last kiss over your cheek before driving back home.

you couldn’t explain how much you loved damian either, it was like you were made for each other and you were both aware of that.

[delusional-fantasising]

I Do Love You (Soldier Boy x GN reader)

Summary: Reader tells him 'I love you' and he gets overwhelmed and shuts off.

Warnings: Soldier Boy kinda being an asshole/biggot, angst no happy ending, trauma, sexual undertone at one moment, slight misogyny, self hatred and emotional shut off

Word Count: 1176 words

The night was young, Soldier Boy had agreed dating you during his time with your team, The Boys. But one thing was obvious, under his brave and dominant bravado he was scared of loving ever again. He didn’t want another betrayal, another heart break, it just wouldn’t let him sleep to the idea of ever loving again. He was terrified of the thought that you, the one person he had slowly began to trust without any benefits could love him.

Every woman’s words rang out in his ears whenever you smiled at him;

“They don’t and they never have. The woman are either humouring you or they’re scared of you. But none of them like you.”

“I didn’t love you, I hated you. We all did.”

Soldier Boy was sitting near you with an arms reach of you, sure there was a part that did somewhat loved you but another part of him was sabotaging himself, ‘They don’t love you. They are afraid of you.’

He wasn’t looking in your direction, he was watching a documentary with you about all the years he missed. It was hard for him to watch to learn everything that changed and forced to change so fast. He had slowly gotten used to the race change not that he had too big of an issue, sorta. He just couldn’t wrap his mind around the gender roles, he found it absurd that men were no longer expected too much to have an income but more rather be expected to be emotionally available, talk things out when things get hard, respect boundaries, and empathy.

“Phht back in my day I never had to do that, women where at home and I would give them pleasure and necessities,” He scoffed as he listened to the feminist rallies that happened. You almost choked on your drink when he mentioned the whole pleasure thing, it was no joke and there was rumours from past lovers of his that his only green flag was that he was the one to go for pleasure.

“Soldier Boy, you can’t be saying that!” You laughed with very much flushed cheeks, he rolled his eyes at you telling him what to do. He wasn’t a big fan of being bossed around, he had to be in control not someone else. But then you say something that made him freeze, his hands gripping the couch arm till his knuckles went white.

“You are so lucky I love you enough to let that slide for now but you seriously got to get with the times. Women don’t want just pleasure, they want emotional connection.”

I love you…

Love.

Soldier Boy just looks away without responding to what you said initially, he was focusing on what his therapist says whenever he feels like he’s going to have a PTSD episode. (The boys forced him to go)

Breath in for four seconds

Hold it in for four seconds

Exhale for four seconds

Hold it in for four seconds

Repeat

Once he felt himself mostly calmed down he just gave a rude snarky response, his tone sarcastic, “Love. That’s a pretty big word, isn’t it? Especially for someone who barely knows me.”

“What? C’mon we have been dating for a month, you have told me some deep stuff. I just want to express some of my love for you,” You chuckled sounding confused at his sarcastic outburst but not taking it to heart since you knew that he sometimes does this to cope. You didn’t know you hit a trigger since the only one you knew about was nothing Russian around him especially the song ‘Escape’ as it triggered one of his worst episodes of exploding. Soldier Boy snapped at you and laughs with a mocking gesture as he waves his hand, “Oh so I opened up a few times and now you know me. This is crap and everyone now and days just throw that around with no meaning. I’m not some person who you can google and get all the real information about me, you don’t know anything about me besides what I want you to know.”

The bitter tone, the sharp cold glare as you could tell he was closing himself off emotionally off from you again. Trying to get distance to avoid a pain you never wish to bestow him.

“Benjamin, I want to know you then. I can’t do this if you just shut me out, I want you to feel safe around me. I really do love you,” You begin, bringing his real legal name to show how serious this conversation was. To show honesty to him and not some fake love that he has gotten in the past by a certain woman.

“Save it, I heard it all well too many times before, ‘I love you, Benjamin.’ Then follows is a knife to my back after you kick me down,” Soldier Boy spat the look of hurt in his eyes and his lip quivered slightly as he wasn’t ready for hearing someone say that to him ever again. “Benjamin I’m not Crimson Countess, I’m not going to hurt you like she did.”

“You can’t promise anything, no one can. Love is just a word, a filthy fucking lie people tell themselves to make them feel better. It doesn’t and will never mean anything to me!” He spat getting up from the couch to pace angrily not looking you in the eye anymore. His eyes getting watery at the thought of going back in the box.

The box

THAT FUCKING BOX

“That’s not true. Love means everything to me and Ben I mean it when I say I love you. Every little imperfection, even when you can being a raging asshole and slightly biggoted you have been changing for the better and I’m proud of you for it.”

Proud, he stopped in his tracks. His trembling hands at his sides turning into fists. He felt his walls of defense cracking at how much he wanted to believe your words but he just ended up muttering, “I used to believe that but love’s just a precursor to disappointment, it’s something to avoid the harsh reality of the real world… I don’t want to lead you on to disappointment”

He was avoiding being vulnerable but it was hard keeping everything bottled up. A tear was slowly building up threatening to spill, his muscles tensing up. Maybe a joke or another witty comment to brush off the stupid feelings. The feelings that made him weak.

“Ben, you won’t disappoint me.”

“Shut up. Just shut up,” Soldier Boy grumbled trying not to set off any alarms with you since he wasn’t facing you, he didn’t want you to see him cry, see him weak.

He isn’t in control

His feelings were going rampant.

You got up, sensing those tears practically going up to him softly cupping his face to make him face you. There was so much emotional turmoil brewing underneath the cold hard wall he placed up. He was scared.

Scared of you.

[anadiasmount]

all about us? - jude bellingham insta au.

continuation insta au post to ‘more of us?’ 🧟‍♀️

—————————

ynusername added to their stories!🔒

judebellingham replied to your story:

stop being naïve and answer my texts

who’s this weston guy?

answer me y/n i swear

↪️ yourreply: i should be none of your concern anymore. move on like i am.

sent 30 minutes ago**

—————————

judebellingham posted on their feed!

liked by: westonmckennie, gioreyna, jobebellingham, vinijr, camavinga, 3,563,909.

judebellingham: power trip indeed

comments:

user209: WHEN HE LISTENS TO JCOLE>>>

vinijr: ESPECTACULAR 🤍

gioreyna: baby, not even i would want you 🥲

↪️ judebellingham: good me neither. i’m taken.

jobebellingham: amazing bro ❤️

username58: he is so sexy.

user539: why is this man always posting about this girl 💀

—————————

ynusername posted on their feed! 🔒

liked by: judebellingham, yourbsf, yourbsff, westonmckennie, jobebellingham, others.

yourusername: what brent said 👍

comments:

userr23: HOLD ONNNNNNN WAIT A MIN-

yourbsf: okay pics 😛😛

yourbsff: i genuinely haven’t recovered from this past weekend…

↪️ yourusername: me either, but YOLO! 🧟‍♀️

westonmckennie: woah 😍😍

liked by ynusername!

username71: ma’am how do you look so good in every pic??

yourfriend: who’s the guy… 🧍‍♀️

↪️ judebellingham: my exact question.

—————————

messages:

—————————

ynusername added to their stories! 🔒

judebellingham replied to your story:

i’m coming to see you.

we have to talk this out please.

i can’t lose you the way i am. how many times do i have to repeat how much i love you? i want you back y/n. please just listen to me.

↪️ yourreply: even if we do talk, we both can tell there’s trust issues involved. jude i want to do bad, but how many more times are we gonna continue doing this? it’s getting out of hand.

judebellingham: which is why i’m coming to talk to you… there’s still hope in both us, i know there is.

seen 54 minutes ago **

—————————

news/media and messages:

—————————

judebellingham posted on their feed!

liked by: gioreyna, jobebellingham, ynusername, vinijr, tobybishay, camavinga, vinijr, 4,345,790.

judebellingham: what brent said 👍

comments:

yourfriend: is that my queen?

yourbsf: dear lord… have the two of you learnt nothing?

gioreyna: happy for you lad! 🤍

jobebellingham: jesus now you won’t shut up about her fr 😂🤣❤️

↪️ judebellingham: no you won’t, you’ll hear very detail of how wonderful she is 👍👍

username3: NO NO NO NO. DO NOT EVENNNNN.

user53: NO WE LOST HIM. HE SOFT LAUNCHED HER IM SICK 😣😣

—————————

ynusername added to their story! 🔒

judebellingham replied to your story:

great now my hand is cold 😒🙄

miss you so much

i love you. thank you for giving me a chance, as much as i don’t deserve it. words can’t describe how grateful i am for you and what you do to my daily life. thank you for trusting me again, for continuing to love me even at my worst.

↪️ yourreply: what did i tell you about blaming yourself? we were both at fault and i’ll admit that because i also did hurt you at one point. i wanted to you to feel how i felt, so please baby, don’t blame yourself. i love you unconditionally and i miss you like hell.

judebellingham: why are you so perfect? how did i get so lucky? 😩😩

↪️ yourreply: STOPPP

judebellingham: never. i won’t stop 🥴

judebellingham: come to my game against napoli?

seen a minute ago **

—————————

judebellingham posted on their feed!

liked by: ynusername, jobebellingham, tobybishay, vinijr, tonikroos, camavinga, gioreyna.

judebellingham: 3pts and a goal, thank you for you the amount of support. in a happy state of mind with you! 🤍

comments:

ynusername: i love you handsome!! 🥹🤍

↪️ judebellingham: in love with you pretty girl 🤍

ynusername: so proud of you always!

vinijr: he does it again 📸📷

gioreyna: top player. and great bf ig 😵‍💫

jobebellingham: real. had to be you. ❤️

usernameee6128: AWW JUDEEEE

user123: if you’re happy i’m happy!

username405: hard launch!!!

user022: WERE GETTING BF PICTURES DJNDNDJJND

[ghettogirly]

𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂!𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐒/𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏.

-> synopsis: some toxic things he may do as the leader of the Aretas Cartel.

-> warnings: manipulation: mention of toxic relationships, mention of degradation, mention of throwing things, mention of unstable relationships, slight mention of dumbification (I do not glorify these things.)

authors note: please reblog and like if you enjoyed this! please request down below as well. This has obviously been exaggerated and fabricated for entertainment, i’ve taken his character to a more “toxic” angle. I do not agree that his character is wholly like this or WILL do this.

[🕷️] 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> he would definitely not answer your texts until late at night. You could message him good morning and he would either:

respond with a dry text or not text you back until 6 hours have passed and he finally has free time.

-> i don’t think he does it to you on purpose but his life is so fast paced that he doesn’t really have time to really engage with your “useless” texts. He has much bigger things to concentrate on which is running the cartel and carrying out hits, there are plenty more girls out there who want him.

-> if you ever called him out on this, he would definitely twist it back on you and explain his lifestyle or just simply ghost you again until he’s bored or misses you.

-> he’s definitely a “you chose me knowing what i do” type of person.

-> god forbid if you ever ghost him over text though. He’s definitely popping up at your house and questioning you, initially speaking in an accusatory tone before eventually apologising (kind of), about his distant behaviour.

-> however, i don’t think he means to ghost you for as long as he does. He genuinely gets caught up in his work and is one to blow up when engaging with confrontation which is why he tends to ghost you as a way to not lose you.

-> because what would you rather want him to do? hurt your feelings in an argument? because trust me, you don’t want to argue with him.

[🕷️] 𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

-> 100% reactive.

-> He would go from 0 to 100 in a second depending on what you say. Ever mention his family and it’s over.

-> he was literally manipulated by his mother and has daddy issues. definitely not good if you mention them.

-> he would insult every single inch of you, degrading you to the point of where you have no self confidence left.

-> i also think, he may have a tendency to become violent if he really goes off the edge. It may be hard for him to get to that point, (you would really have to piss him off) but he may punch things or throw things while screaming at you in order to scare you.

-> this would be very common and not out of the ordinary as he has saw his own mother brutally die in front of him, violently fighting his dad also.

-> the words he would call you would be so hurtful they would make you think deep into the night when going sleep.

-> the attack on your character, you look, body shape and personality would have you questioning your whole identity and would make you succumb to his insults. Maybe causing you to change the way you act or look just to please him.

-> you’re definitely the one apologising first after an argument.

[🕷️] 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍:

-> “to handle or control something in a skilful manner.”

-> after how he was emotionally manipulated by his mother, who set him up to train for his whole life, to kill a man he thought betrayed her but in actuality was his father would mess him up DIFFERENTLY.

-> he WOULD not let that happen again.

-> he would have some manipulative tendencies that would’ve stemmed from his mother where he was switch a situation back on you,

-> For Example:

-> Let’s say you saw him flirting with a girl at a party you two were both at. If you brought it up to him afterwards he would automatically flip it on you suggesting that: “You’re too insecure,” “He doesn’t have time for this”, “This conversation is pointless”, or even “Can he not live a life outside his dangerous work?”

-> You’re not winning an argument with him.

-> by the end of this relationship, your mind is definitely just focused on him. the emotional manipulation taking a toll on you to the point where he can do no wrong.

-> he would 100% love that, his woman who is just a complete supporter, doesn’t question him and he can use her for his own use? great.

-> however, he would definitely get bored of this and dump you to move onto the next. wanting more of a challenge.

-> he only wanted the self-satisfaction of manipulating you so he could forget how he was easily manipulated.

[norrizzandpia]

What We Could’ve Been and What We Are Now: The Masterlist (LN4 x Reader)

Summary: Jon’s daughter and childhood best friends, Y/n and Lando share a special type of love. A love that has always made them prioritize each other, show up no matter what when the other needed them. A love that turned romantic so incredibly, strikingly fast. When their friendship finally addresses that shared feeling and labels are thrown around, their connection takes a turn. Arguments, trust issues, and petty insults make up their young love and it’s not what either of them expected. A turning point, a stupid mistake, brings out an inevitable end and the two are left to stand in the midst of a destroyed relationship, a friendship that is no longer salvageable. However, young people make stupid mistakes that they later grow from and what happens when years later numbers are unblocked, words are shared again, and the love they shared burns once more? Warnings, an author’s note, chapter links and summaries, and a playlist below the cut!

Warnings: language, smut in later chapters (that will be specified on specific chapters), cheating

Note: please don’t be turned away by the cheating warning 🙏🏻 trust me when i tell you it all works out in the end in a way that does not have Y/n looking like she has no self worth

Chapter Links:

The Youngest Love (Chapter One)

A backstory to the beginning of a love story.

A Beautiful Start (Chapter Two)

Ever since their first official date, Y/n and Lando fall into the honeymoon phase.

Why Can’t You See It My Way?! (Chapter Three)

Arguments and bickering turn what once was into something messy and painful.

A Stupid Mistake (Chapter Four)

In the wake of their fight, Lando wakes up to someone who is not his Y/n.

If You Don’t Tell Her, I Will (Chapter Five)

Something that started out with the purest of intentions ends with the most dirty confession.

Please, I’m Sorry (Chapter Six)

Lando tries and tries to contact Y/n after their fallout. However, with a blocked contact and an angry Jon, he can only do so much.

Reconciling (Chapter Seven)

When he can’t reach Y/n, Lando goes to apologize to his second father.

Years Later (Chapter Eight)

His first race win is not the only reason why Lando is having the best day of his life.

Stay Up With Me? (Chapter Nine)

Picking up where they left off has never seemed so easy yet Y/n can’t get rid of the nagging fear of what could be repeated.

Listen To Me (Chapter Ten)

At the risk of another fallout, Lando works to stop from losing what he so foolishly lost before.

The Playlist:

1. The Grudge by Olivia Rodrigo

2. Logical by Olivia Rodrigo

3. Making the Bed by Olivia Rodrigo

4. Lacy by Olivia Rodrigo

5. Take It All by Adele

6. Tolerate It by Taylor Swift

7. Right Where You Left Me by Taylor Swift

8. Hurt Me Once by Ben Platt

9. Illicit Affairs by Taylor Swift

10. Keep That To Yourself (voice memo) by Tristan

11. I Miss You, I’m Sorry by Gracie Abrams

12. Ceilings by Lizzy McAlpine

13. Movies by Conan Gray

14. Cardigan by Taylor Swift

15. Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan

16. Betty by Taylor Swift

17. TV by Billie Ellish

18. Footnote by Conan Gray

19. Fine Line by Harry Styles

20. August by Taylor Swift

21. The 1 by Taylor Swift

22. Special by SZA

23. Marjorie by Taylor Swift

24. Decode by Sabrina Carpenter

25. Champagne Problems by Taylor Swift

26. Strawberry Wine by Noah Kahan

27. All My Love by Noah Kahan

28. Talk by Hozier

[atinyniki]

dear (ex)lover.

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!kim seungmin x f!reader

genre: pure angst, letter

warnings + additional info: seungmin is referred to as seungmin and min, seungmin was (and still is) a dick, seungmin is a player, seungmin led reader on, reader reminisces the past, reader blames seungmin for the downfall of their relationship (rightfully so), reader has past trauma from relationships, mentions of waiting till marriage, reader has body image issues, reader has been depressed, reader has trust issues, reader misses seungmin, just a really really sad angsty letter, intended lowercase, written in letter format.

authors note: okay. im so sorry for this... this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1033

dear lover,

why don’t we talk anymore? i remember, you told me i was your best friend once. i remember, i was your best friend before i was your lover. i understand, your love for me is gone now, but weren’t we supposed to be friends? didn’t you tell me we could go back to the way it was? so why don’t you talk to me? why do you avoid my eyes when you see me? why do you ignore my texts?

why do you only speak to me when it’s convenient for you?

i remember when i first opened up to you, my love. i told you i didn’t fit in with the group. i didn't think you needed me, and i didn’t think the others did either. you told me you didn’t know you needed me until i was in your life. do you still need me? why did you love me like that if you were just going to ghost me in the end? we talked about so much. you bought me my wedding ring. i wore my heart on my sleeve for you. you gave me a promise ring. why did you break your promise? why did you write so many love letters to me, knowing that you were leaving in the end?

what did i do to be treated like this? i should have been better to you, right? it’s my fault, right? i had to have done something… right? what did i do? i can do better, i can. i can be a better friend, i promise. you were my first real friend. you held me when things were hard. i need you to hold me once more. you always did my hair all nice to distract me. i miss when you’d braid it. you even played with my stuffed animals with me. you were the first person who accepted me for me.

why don’t you like me anymore? why am i always the one to approach you? did you only speak to me because i spoke to you first? was this all one-sided and you only spoke to me because i annoyed you till you replied? i didn’t know. i didn’t know that i was being annoying. i didn’t realize it. i thought you wanted me too. i’ve been having nightmares again. you told me you’d be there. it’s funny, isn’t it? you promised you’d always be there, but now you’re the cause of them. you broke my trust. you fucked up, and i forgave you. again and again, i forgave you. i took you back for every mistake you made.

why did you take my heart for granted? why did you break me like this? am i unlovable? did you grow tired of me? could you not stand me anymore like the others? the boys told me what you said about me. what you said about my body. i know i don’t look the same anymore, but can’t you still love me? am i really all that different now? or maybe you just don’t want someone who rots in bed all day. yeah, they told me that part too. maybe you couldn’t deal with my past trauma. i’ve lost people in the past like i lost you before. you told me you wouldn’t leave me. not the way they did, at least. but you did. you left, and you ruined me in the process.

maybe i am unlovable. maybe this was meant to happen. was it for the better? did you mean it when you said you loved me those last nights we spent together? did you find it fun? breaking my heart? was it nice to watch me fall apart that night on my bedroom floor? was it fun to use my own pain against me? was it fun telling me it was my fault? did it take some of your guilt away?

i’m mad at you, still.

but a part of me still loves you. a part of me still wants to forgive you, and i don’t know why. i shouldn’t, i know. you don’t deserve my forgiveness. you don’t deserve anything i have to offer. but i still want to forgive you. i still want to love you like i used to. i still want to tell you that im here for you, and i still want to hold you while we fall asleep. i still want to brush away your tears, and i still want to do your skincare for you. but you’re fading away from my life. i don’t know the person i fell in love with anymore, because they aren’t you. i miss his sweet voice, and i miss his melting touch. i miss the sound of his heartbeat, and i miss his heart. but it’s always going to be you, isn’t it? it’s always been you. you’re the person i love most, but the feelings are fading away too. i want to keep them with me. i want to hold it all so tight that your love can’t escape anymore, but you’re gone. you’re gone, and you took my heart with you.

i’m sorry. was i not good enough for you? i wish i could have been the one for you. i don’t know if i’m allowed to say it, but i miss you, min. i miss our late night laughter, i miss our runs to the coffee shop. i miss the bond we had. where did it go? why am i the only one putting effort into this stupid friendship anymore? why do i always text first? why am i begging for you to love me again?

it’s stupid.

this is stupid.

you’re stupid.

i hate you.

i hate you for using me.

i hate you so much for ruining us.

i hate you for ruining what we had.

i hate you for ruining every memory with you.

i hate you for ruining me for anybody else.

you ruined me.

they’ll never be you.

no one will ever be you.

i hate you, kim seungmin.

i hate you.

i miss you.

i miss you, and i hate it.

i hate it.

i hate you.

i love you, your ex lover.

</3

[blueninjablade3]

How Disney villain men react to you being jealous of someone close to them.

Authors Note: I APOLOGIZE TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS BECAUSE IT TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO WRITE THIS AND I WANNA THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Ratigan

He’s gonna find it amusing! You’d either be jealous of Falica or Fidget. So he thinks it’s hilarious! Like you’re jealous of a cat! Or a bat. He’s teasing you relentlessly. However, if you’re extremely upset and jealous, he’s going to take a minute to tell you how much he actually loves you and talk about what you need to keep your jealousy low. He’s a smart man and knows that if you don’t trust him that’s gonna make this whole relationship wayyyy harder.

Clayton

For Clayton, I’d imagine you’re jealous of Jane. Which he finds slightly troublesome and concerning. Was he giving you a reason to be distrustful or upset with him? What was causing the jealousy? Clayton surprisingly takes the time to attempt to understand the issue. He thinks you’re being dramatic and protective; he still wants to be sure he isn’t doing anything extremely worrisome to you.

Jafar

I don’t know who’d be considered close to Jafar except Iago. Even then, he finds it rather annoying. He has too much on his plate! Alright!? And now you are being a drama queen because he hasn’t spent time with you for a while. And you’re jealous of a bird!! Such an annoyance. 

Frollo

(Assume you’re married for this one)

YOU HAD THE AUDACITY TO BE GUILTY OF ENVY AROUND FROLLO?! SINER! But seriously. Frollo is gonna be confused. Why would he cheat? Adultery was a sin! And he’s sooo “perfect” that he doesn’t believe that he can sin. So you’re stuck with him telling you that “ENVY IS A SIN!” And you’re being crazy. I’m hoping you can deal with that soldier.

Hades

This man doesn’t miss. He gets really serious and wants to talk to you about what’s causing the jealousy. Hades understands that he has a more “flirty” type of humor and that it’s easy to get uncomfortable sometimes. So he sits you down and has you talk about whose making you jealous, why you’re jealous, and how to ensure your comfort and trust in him. He’ll talk about his boundaries with you as well. Hades might be “evil” but he cares a lot about you and wants to ensure you comfort in all aspects of your relationship.

Hook

Hook is gonna be confused. He had shown interest in men, yes, but he wouldn’t leave you for them! You’re so much better! He’s gonna definitely have a sit down with you to talk about boundaries, the issue being had, and how to avoid that jealousy in the future.

Masterlist

[builtbybrokenbells]

Guilty Pleasures

Due to a strong foundation of trust and a willingness to share, a situation which would normally be catastrophic, seems to turn out to be quite rewarding.

Pairing: danny wagner x f!reader, jake kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 20.4k (i am so sorry)

Warnings: SMUT 18+, threesome, unprotected/protected sex, rough sex, anal sex, double penetration, oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), face fucking, fingering (f!receiving), dirty talk (lots and lots of dirty talk), choking, biting, name calling, praise, slight impact play, daddy kink, dom/sub, voyeurism, degradation, jealousy, mentions of cheating/thoughts of infidelity, arguing, asshole/shit disturber Jake, angst, fluff, sorry if i miss any!

this is pretty much pure porn. plot at the beginning, but mostly just sex. took a break from gdw for a little while just to straighten my thoughts with it, and came up with this idea and could not stop myself from writing it. it’s super long and very lightly edited, so I do apologize for that. please don’t judge me too hard for this one 😭 as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!

also! italics are the memories/past, everything else is present! thought I’d try something new this time 😁

The chime of the bell above the door signalled the entry of the newest patron of the bar. Normally, you would have eagerly greeted whoever walked in, but tonight, you were caught up in the chaos of the already crowded room. Dollar bills were waving in front of your face, hands raised in the air to catch your attention, and the occasional shout from an impatient customer filled the already loud atmosphere. Beer bottles were flying across the sticky wooden countertop in exchange for cash. Margarita and shot glasses were lined before you, only empty for a moment before they were shoved in the proper direction, too. You were working faster than you could comprehend, barely hanging on but surviving from the thought of your coworkers starting shift in a few minutes.

You took the early shift, thinking that you could breeze through the night with minimal stress and effort. For the most part, you were correct in thinking so. Unfortunately, when the clock struck eight, the city’s nightlife took a dramatic turn. As a result, the bar was quickly overrun with guests desperate for a buzz. Some were understanding, kindness oozing from them as long as they had a drink in their hand. Others were not, but you couldn’t blame them. There were far too many people in the bar for only a single bartender, and that wasn’t really a management issue, either. You were an establishment that was plagued with long time regulars and middle aged men in search of companionship. Every now and then a group of older women would check the place out, but rarely anyone under 30. So, you were confident in saying that it was unusual for you to house so many people in a single night, let alone all at once.

You rushed through your last few customers, serving everyone who had been waiting in hopes that they would still be generous enough to leave a tip. For the most part they were, and for that you were thankful. When the last person retreated, happily sipping on their beverage of choice, you took a moment to breathe. With both hands planted on the countertop and your head towards the floor, you took a much needed minute of rest. When a body presented itself in front of you once more, you thought you might shed a tear just at the thought of fixing another drink. “What are you drinking tonight?” You asked, aiming to sound as cheery as possible.

“You don’t know by now?” At the sound of the familiar tone, your head snapped up in surprise. “I’d be lying if I said that doesn’t hurt.”

“Shut up,” you landed a playful smack on his arm, your first genuine smile of the night fighting its way on to your lips. “Of course I do.” The words fell from your lips as you reached under the counter for a glass. You scooped a few ice cubes into the cup, the sound ringing nicely to his ears. You turned, grabbing a whiskey bottle from the top shelf, wasting no time pouring a double shot over the cubes. “Top shelf whiskey, always. Doesn’t matter the price, as long as that’s where it’s from and it’s a double.” You smirked, turning to place the bottle back in its place. “Three or four ice cubes. Not enough to water it down, but enough to keep it cold.” You continued, reaching for a citrus peel neatly arranged into a spiral from a plastic container beside the glasses. “And something to make it look pretty, as long as it doesn’t change the taste.” You arranged it neatly on the rim with a hint of cockiness seeping through your pores. “And served with a smile, because that’s what makes it taste the best.” You placed it in front of him, paired with the sweetest smile your cheeks could adorn and a soft wink.

“You really do know me, trouble.” He picked up the glass, swirling it around so the ice could cool the liquid. “I’m sorry I ever doubted you.”

“You should be, Jacob. I wouldn’t be a very good bartender if I forgot my favourite customers’ order.” He took a small sip, fighting the urge to dish out another compliment. He knew better, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t tempted.

“Busy spot tonight,” he noted, looking around at the bustling room. The booths and tables were so full that people had taken to standing by the walls, content with being seatless and lost in chatter with each other. “Suppose you actually had to work, not just sit here and look pretty.”

“Nothing wrong with doing both.” You reminded. “Although I don’t think you’d know too much about the working class.”

“Right,” he chuckled, taking a seat on one of the stools. “But I do know a thing or two about looking pretty.” You gave him a shrug, not willing to play into his ego.

“Where’s the rest of your company tonight?” You changed topics, careful not to tread too deeply. “Not like you to stag it.”

“On their way. I’d give them about ten minutes, then I’ll worry.” He assured you. “Maybe I just wanted you all to myself for a night.” He posed the theory as if he had never divulged in the glory of seclusion with you. You ignored him, unwilling to admit that you didn’t mind him on his lonesome.

“What can I get for you, darlin’?” You asked, barely looking up from your hands.

“Whiskey, top shelf. You can pick.” The voice rang through you as if it was blessed with the grace of god himself, settling in your chest and warming your soul. You finally broke your focus from your lime cutting, curious to see if the face matched the beauty of the voice. As if it were some kind of sick joke, the sight of his face seemed even more heavenly than the sweet tone of his words. “Only a couple ice cubes, though. Don’t want to water it down too much.”

“Top shelf?” You asked for clarification. Normally, nobody even eyed the liquor that far up in fear that it would break the bank.

“Price doesn’t matter, sweetheart. Quality does.” As beautiful as he was, he did seem a tad cocky. You supposed you could brush it to the side unless it became a real problem. You scooped a few ice cubes into the cup, turning to the wall of liquor to pick his poison. You used the step stool to reach for a bottle on the far left. You brought it down with caution, returning to him with a raised eyebrow. He glanced at the label and gave a nod of approval.

“Single?”

“Always a double.” You could hear a smile hidden in his tone. You poured the whiskey over the ice, the crackle striking him with curiosity. “Ice usually goes in last, does it not?”

“Been doing this a long time,” you chuckled “tastes better this way.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” He hummed. As you turned to place the bottle back in its original place, you could feel his eyes burning into you. When you turned back to him, your suspicion was confirmed. He seemed shameless about his unwavering stare. “Got anything to make it look pretty?” You let out a sigh, pondering what you could add to it. You pulled out a citrus twist, showing it to him. “Will it change the way it tastes?” He smirked.

“Unless you’re planning on eating it, no.” You teased, garnishing the rim with it. “Probably wouldn’t be very pleasant if you did.” You passed it to him, smiling at the peculiar interaction.

“That smile will make it taste even better, though.” He noted, eyes still glued to you. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Y/n,” you said, feeling a hint of a blush plaster your cheeks. “What about you? Never seen you around here before.”

“Sweetheart suits you better.” He noted. “I’m Jake.” He replied, taking a sip of the beverage. He gave a nod of approval paired with a little smile, one that stole the air straight from your lungs. “Just moved here, thought I’d check the place out.”

“Satisfied so far?” You weren’t shy in admitting your question was laced with filthy undertones. You were certain you would let him take you right then and there with no guilt at all. He was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, and his interest in you was very apparent.

“Incredibly,” he let out a small laugh. “What about you, trouble?”

“What about me?” You shot back, thankful that the bar was nearly empty. You thought it would be worse than torture, having to cut your conversation with him short.

“Are you satisfied, sweetheart?”

Jake was the devil in disguise, and that you were certain of. His charm was like no other, but his intentions were his downfall. He would do anything for a night of fun, but that’s where his involvement ended. He was quick with a joke, always trying for a laugh. Compliments were steadily flowing, and his gaze was always the same; attempting to undress you with his eyes alone. You were sure Jake could make a great friend if you allowed him to get that close, but it was much too risky for you to entertain. You had fallen victim to him once, and had never fully recovered. To step in time with him was assurance of certain death, and that was something you could never forget. Although beautiful, his love was not something desirable. Despite knowing that, you seemed desperate to convince yourself of the fact every time you were near him.

“Aren’t you always trying to get me alone?” You chuckled, hearing the door chime once more.

“Always trying, never succeeding.” He shrugged, taking a long drink from his cup. “Can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“I wonder why that is, Jacob.” You rolled your eyes. The conversation came to a halt as soon as the words left your mouth. Danny, Josh and Sam had joined you two at the bar, taking a seat beside their brother while still amidst their own conversation.

“I wonder, too.” Jake said, always needing to get the last word in. You clenched your jaw, already finding yourself annoyed with him despite only being in his company for a short time.

“That’s it, beautiful. Just like that.” His desperation was evident, heavy breathing sounding through the room and staining the walls with sin. It was a sin you would never be able to forgive yourself for, one that was made in a moment of weakness and left an air of suffering in its wake. “Does that feel good?” His fingers were knotted in your hair, laced around the strands like a snake settling in for a kill. No verbal response could compare to the vulgarity of your moans. “Tell me how good it feels, baby.”

You broke your stare from his face, feeling a wave of indignation washing over you at the vile memory. It was something that plagued you, seeming to poison every pleasant thought and ruin it indefinitely. To him, it seemed like a typical Sunday afternoon activity. Jake was always dripping with sex appeal, and sex was his favourite pastime. It was a horrendous pairing of traits. He had no remorse for his actions, none at all for making you fall for him and then disappearing as if he never existed at all. You were a one night stand, and he left your apartment that night with no intent of ever speaking to you again. You were a fool for him, in love by the first touch, and you were nothing more than a conquest to him, a challenge with little significance, and you were one he proved so easily forgettable.

You never wanted to see him again, almost happy he had vanished after the initial shock wore off. You vowed if you were to see him again, you wouldn’t even cast a glance in his direction. You did well; the first few times he came back around the bar you barely even acknowledged his existence. That struck a nerve in him you didn’t even realize he could have. Emotion was very low on Jake’s list of priorities, but you seemed to invoke every single one in him. It bothered him so much that he refused to return to the bar you worked at for many months in fear of facing rejection again. He avoided you just long enough for you to meet a fantastic person, one who seemed very willing to give you the love you were looking for. One that found himself sitting in the same bar seat Jake had once sat, staring just as longingly at you as Jake did. This time, the patron was in it for more than a hookup, and had fallen for you far beyond anything Jake could ever comprehend feeling.

It was fantastic; a dream come true, even. Someone who loved in the same way you did, adorned the same outlook on life, and had the same morals and passions. It was so fantastic that it seemed too good to be true. “Hey, beautiful.” Danny leaned over the counter, placing a kiss to your cheek as you sat a beer bottle in front of him. “I missed you.”

Correction: it was too good to be true.

“I missed you.” You smiled, eyes fluttering closed at the feeling.

“Ten more minutes and you can join us on the other side.” Sam joked, eyeing the clock.

“Oh, I know. I’ve been counting the seconds.”

Jake had done such a good job at disappearing that he had dug his own grave. Instead of mustering the courage to confront you, to apologize and make amends for his actions, he gave you ample opportunity to fall in love with his best friend. As if it was some type of sick joke, a repercussion for the sins you committed with him, you had no idea that they were so close until it was far too late. You were already falling fast for the curly haired boy who appeared to be the exact opposite of Jake Kiszka. You were so desperate to purge Jake from your life that you failed to realize Danny was a sure way to allow him right back in.

“My friends are gonna join me, tonight. Is that okay?” Danny was nervous, that much was obvious. But, he was cute when he was nervous, and you couldn’t imagine why meeting his friends would cause any kind of problem.

“F’course it is, handsome.” You smiled, handing a bottle to him after ridding it if the cap. “You know, draft would be much cheaper. And better for the environment.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he smiled, finding it impossible to stop admiring you. “They can be a lot, sometimes. I just don’t want them to scare you away.” He chuckled.

“I like you, Daniel. I’m dating you because I like you, not because of your friends. Besides, crazy never really bothered me much. I work at a bar, so I’m sure I’ve met worse.” He laughed, nodding along to your words.

“Suppose I can’t argue that.” He agreed. “If you like them, we can properly hang out sometime. I just thought that if you didn’t, you could pretend to be busy with something else.”

“Thoughtful, but not necessary. I’m sure I’ll love them.” You leaned over and placed a kiss to his cheek. “You worry too much.”

“I like you, what can I say?” He smiled, appreciative of your attitude. “Plus, they keep pestering me about coming here all the time. Figured I couldn’t keep you a secret much longer.”

“Oh, so I’m a secret?” You teased, sending him a wink.

“Not like that,” he rolled his eyes, but he was laughing as he did so. “If I could, I’d keep you all to myself for the rest of my life. What if you like one of them more than me?”

“Impossible.” You assured him, sending look of finality to show him you were serious. “I’m going to clean off the booths, give me a shout when they get here, okay?”

“For a kiss,” he smirked.

“That just comes with the service.” You giggled, leaning forward and capturing him in a moment of sweetness. “That better not count as my tip.” You joked as you pulled away.

“I’ll give that to you after work.” He assured you as you shuffled out from behind the counter.

“I’m counting on it!” You replied, already busying yourself with clearing away empty bottles and glasses. By the time you finished the line of booths, your tray was full to the brim. You hummed along to the music playing over the sound system as you returned to your post, barely noticing your surroundings as you discarded the tray full of clutter. When you swung around, you noticed there were more people at the bar than there were previously. Danny had a smile stuck on his lips as he found himself in mindless conversation with his company. You even found yourself smiling, too, looking over the new faces in attempt to familiarize yourself with them.

The first two looked strikingly familiar, both showcasing features that were not only perfectly suited for their face, but also had an air of similarity. You figured they must be brothers. You and Danny had yet to discuss much other than each other, as the relationship was quite new. You were certain in its strength, but meeting friends was a huge step forward in the process of loving each other. You didn’t stare for too long, realizing that there was another friend you had yet to see. Your head turned down the line of boys, landing on someone who had already made quick work at staring at you. Your stomach dropped, quickly understanding the reason for the other boy’s familiarity. You felt like the ground was stolen from underneath you, that the universe was wrapping its cold fingers around your neck and slowly strangling the life from you. Your palms were sweaty, head spinning with no sign of stopping.

“Remember my order, sweetheart?” He murmured, glancing to his side to make sure Danny hadn’t noticed your volatile reaction.

“Of course I do.” Your words were paired with a scowl, at a loss for ideas on how to dig yourself out of the hole you were in.

You threw your apron in the laundry bin, counting out the cash tips to mark them down in the book. Once it was recorded, you let your hair down from its elastic, running your fingers through the mess of knots the nights stress had created. Once you were able to rid yourself of the aura of darkness that was looming over your head, you managed to force yourself back out into the bar. The noise was immediately overwhelming, seemingly much louder now that you were on the other side of the counter. “Whiskey sour, please.” You gave your coworker a smile, silently thanking them for showing up on time.

“You staying?” He asked, immediately springing to action at your words.

“Guess so.” You sighed, placing the change on the counter. “As if I’m not here enough.” You grumbled. “Danny thinks we should spend our free time here, too.”

“At least try to have fun,” he laughed at your grim expression. As soon as the drink was in front of you, you took a long sip.

“You too.” You chuckled, turning your head to scan the crowd. You noticed that the boys had claimed a booth in your time away, settling in with little hesitation. You walked over, grabbing a chair from a table and placing it at the end of the booth.

It had been years since you and Danny had started dating, and it had been phenomenal. You didn’t have a single complaint aside from Jake, and neither did he. A year or so prior, you had even moved in together. You adored him, and he was your whole world. You had no doubt in choosing him as a life partner, but you did wish that you had never given in to the temptation of Jake. Because even years later, he still looked at you the same way he did that first night he showed up at the bar. Even with no hint of success, or an idea that he would ever have you like that again. He was relentless, and it was excruciating.

Even as in love with Danny as you were, you couldn’t lie and say that Jake was not attractive. You had fallen into bed with him once, and for good reason. You had no desire to be with him, no need for him in any way that mattered, but he was like a parasite, begging to leech life directly from the source. He flirted as if you weren’t practically married to his best friend, as if he didn’t care about hurting him in the crossfire. You shot him down most of the time, but even the best of people had their moments of weakness. There were some nights, albeit few and far between, that you found yourself tipsy enough to entertain him for a moment before the crushing guilt took over.

Danny was not ignorant to what happened between you and Jake. In fact, he was quite aware of Jake’s intense infatuation with you. It would be untruthful to say that it never caused any issues, but there was no world in which it wouldn’t. Danny was quite trusting in you, confident in your love and knew you respected him enough to never stray. That was wholeheartedly true, and being unfaithful to him was never a thought that crossed your mind. Sex with Jake, even as mind blowing as you knew it was, was not worth risking a lifetime of love with Danny. It was futile, and you knew that one night with Jake would always be just that. He hated the thought of commitment, and would never settle down. It was not worth losing everything that Danny gave to you.

“We have to tell him!” You spat, palms landing flat on his chest and pushing him backwards. You were not one for physical violence, but Jake always seemed to bring out the worst in you.

“Fine, then tell him!” He barked back, neither of you caring about your volume or presentability. “Why does it have to fall on me?”

“Because you’re the one who started it! You finally got me to have sex with you, and then you left! You disappeared! You got what you wanted, like always, and now look at the problems it caused!” You exploded. “I’m not risking losing him over someone like you.”

“Someone like me?” He chuckled, looking at you with a fierce shield of carelessness, as if your words hadn’t cut him deeper than a knife. “Fine, we’ll tell him. I’ll go in there and tell him just how good you look from behind, or how beautiful those slutty little noises sound, especially when my name was stuck on those pretty lips. I’m sure he’d love to hear about all of that.” He smirked, lighting a fire in you like no other.

“Fine, I’ll go in there and tell him how you spent weeks getting me to fall for you. Came in here every night so desperate for attention that you couldn’t leave until we kicked you out. You wanted me so bad that you drank us out of liquor, and when you finally had me, you broke my fucking heart. Would you like me to tell your brothers, too? ‘Cause I can talk all night about how terrible of a person you are.” His eyes changed; the defensive nature he previously held was obsolete. He knew he had done wrong, but he had no idea how badly he truly hurt you. He was at a loss for words, so he said the only thing he believed held any meaning.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered. The cold air of the night was nipping at the tip of your nose, but the wind hitting you was unable to compete with the slap of his pathetic apology.

“Fuck you, Jake.” You shook your head, grimacing at the thought of him being apologetic about his actions. “I’m telling him. I really like him, and he deserves the truth. Dishonesty isn’t really my thing, even if it is yours.”

And tell him, you did. It was a tearful confession, an admission of guilt for something you didn’t really need to be ashamed of. He was almost too understanding, showering you with comfort when you felt like he should have walked out. It did sting for him to hear, but he was not willing to blame you for a choice you made months before ever knowing him. His willingness to accept you as is was more than enough for you to fall in love with him. He appreciated the truth, and from there on you two had built a loving life with each other. The thought of Jake was less daunting and more manageable. For the first little while, Jake backed down with the understanding that he was in the wrong. He allowed you to live your life, pretending as if he never knew you until Danny introduced you to each other. It was the amicable thing to do, but unfortunately Jake had no idea how to maintain that outlook. It only took a few months before his insufferable personality made its inevitable return.

“You’re quiet, tonight.” Danny nudged you, sending a soft smile your way.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. It was a long shift. I’ve never seen it this busy in here.” You said, taking a long drink from your glass. It was nearing the end, and you were itching to go for another one, just to escape Jake’s burning stare for a moment.

“That’s okay,” he placed his hand on your knee under the table, sending a jolt of comfort through you. “We don’t have to stay out for long.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him, placing your hand atop of his. “We can do whatever. I’ll be happy as long as I’m with you.” He gave you a lingering stare, one that told you he felt the same way, but he wasn’t sure if he completely believed you.

You weren’t certain as to why Jake was bothering you so much more as of recent. Bothering was not the proper term, really. He never bothered you; his advances were not uncomfortable or troublesome. Infuriating by times, yes, but he was harmless in every sense of the word. He was affecting you more, and that was a strange feeling. You had spent the last few years managing to ignore almost every sly pass or risky comment. It had become routine, Jake capturing you in a moment of seclusion and doing his best to make your loyalty falter. It was always the same story; a few eye rolls, a scoff, and maybe even a playful shove that had incredible amounts of hidden frustration behind it. Jake was the master at flirtation, and you had mastered rejection. It grew increasingly easier over time, and now it was barely a chip off your shoulder. The beginning proved tough, but you persevered to a point where it barely bothered you in any way that mattered. Lately, it seemed like it was more impactful than your typical game of cat and mouse. His touches held more emotion, lingering for a moment too long. His eyes held unspoken words, and his moves were no longer meant to maim; they were aimed to kill.

You found yourself playing into him more, entertaining the idea before ultimately shutting it down after the crushing guilt took over. You would never do that again, and even more so, you would never do that to Danny. You repeated the mantra in your head until the words seemed to bleed from the walls. As firm as you were on your stance, Jake had a devastatingly intoxicating attitude, and you weren’t a stranger to his temptation even long after his initial strike all of those years ago.

“Making drinks even on your days off?” The dulcet tone caught your attention, unexpected and causing you to stutter with your movements. The bottle of vodka moved off target and caused a small spill on the table. You didn’t look up to the perpetrator, no need to see him to know who it was.

“You know me, live to work instead of work to live.” You chuckled. It was true; you were so invested in working that a social life had never been a priority for you. Money was a wicked motivator, and even if the bar was not typically bustling, your regulars were quite generous with their tips. You’d been working at the same bar since you had moved out of your parents house and you had no imminent plans to leave. The owners were nice, they had given you a promise of a manger’s position if you ever wanted it, and you thoroughly enjoyed your coworkers company. The wages weren’t awful and the tips were great. You saw no issue with working, and made it a point to do it as much as you could.

“Makes me think that you don’t want to be at home.” Jake theorized, taking a step closer to you as you swiped away the spilled alcohol. “Is everything as fantastic as you make it seem, or is being tied down not all it’s cracked up to be?” He was beside you, now. His charm was radiating from him, inviting you in without you even noticing how badly it burned. You could feel the warmth from his body slowly surrounding you, a feeling that you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You finally looked towards him, trying to maintain some semblance of passiveness with his advance.

“I’m quite content, Jacob.” You said, holding his stare with no intention of backing down. “Makes me think that you’re projecting.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at your need to argue.

“Was just a thought, sweetheart.” He looked towards the table. “Is it such a terrible thing to be worried about a friend?”

“Considering you and I are far from friends, and I know you’re not worried about anything other than sex, yeah.” You also looked to the table, pouring the mix into the three glasses before you. You placed straws in each of them, giving a slight stir as you did.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to enjoy sex.” He shrugged, a smirk toying at his lips.

“It’s not. Think lots of people do.” You snipped, looking towards him. “It’s a crime to want it from your best friends girlfriend.” He chuckled, shamelessly enjoying the fire in your tone.

“Not if I had you first,” he reminded, thrilled by the shift in your expression. Talk of what came before Danny had been strictly forbidden, and you both had done well adhering to it after the initial blowout of the truth. His hand slipped to your waist, fingers dangerously dancing close to parts of you he was no longer allowed access to. The tips of his fingers settled just near your ass; not close enough for an offence, but clearly toying the line between right and wrong.

“That never happened, Jake. Remember?” You prompted him to recall the harsh boundaries you had put in place months prior.

“Oh, I remember,” he smiled, pulling you in to him a little closer. “I think about it all of the time. How could I forget?” It was clear that the two of you were not speaking about the same memory. There was no space left between your bodies, your chest pressed to his and his lips hovering over your own. “Do you remember?”

“Jake,” you warned, knowing that this was far beyond any level of comfort for anyone. He was pushing every possible boundary, and you weren’t sure if it was because he wanted you, or if he just wanted to see you crack under the pressure. Most of the time, anything Jake did seemed more like a punishment or a test rather than anything positive. You wanted to believe he was genuine, but you knew him to be sly and willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted. You could feel him pulling you in despite both of you being as still as possible. It was just how he was; his eyes were inviting, as was every other physical aspect of him. The only deterrent was his personality, and even that wasn’t completely horrible by times. But it was a trick, as it always was, and as much as your body wanted to fall for it, you knew it was more than wrong. It was despicable.

When his nose was touching yours, brushing together with a million sparks of electricity, you finally came back to reality. You raised your hand, pressing it flat to his chest and pushed him backwards. You were livid at yourself for allowing him to get so close, but even angrier at him for trying so hard to make you fall for it. “What’s wrong, sunshine?” He smiled. The air was still laced with notes of whiskey. It radiated off him as if he used it as holy water. At one time, the scent was alluring, deadly when mixed with his cologne. Now, it seemed repulsive. “Not even once, for old times sake?”

“Never again.” You snapped, unwilling to believe that he truly thought you would agree to his request. “You’re hammered.” You noted, feeling the choke of tears in your throat. “Go home.” The regret for even allowing him near you was debilitating.

“All alone?” The smirk he held was infuriating.

“Go home, Jake.” A third voice broke through the tension in the air. You both turned to the entryway of the kitchen, seeing Danny standing with his arms crossed. He didn’t seem angry, more like he just wanted to put an end to the chaos and move on. Jake raised his hands in surrender, casting one more sideways glance at you before shuffling towards the door.

Sam sat a third drink in front of you, prompting you to utter a small thank you for his kind gesture. You were already tipsy, before you even joined them for a drink you could feel your head swirling from exhaustion. Alcohol certainly did not help you wake up, nor did it help the incessant memories from the past. You wasted no time bringing the straw to your lips in attempt to wash down the bitter aftertaste of remembering. You closed your eyes, desperate to focus on anything other than the ache of knowing Jake in any other way than surface level. Even the burn of the whiskey was preferable to the burn of him.

“Maybe you should slow down, baby.” The concerned tone was less of a comfort and more like a stab to an already open wound. You set the glass back on the table, eyes flickering to your boyfriend. You bit the inside of your lip, trying to focus on him and him alone. You could feel Jakes eyes searing into the back of your skull, begging you to look at him instead. Had it been a battle for affection, a challenge of courtship, you could be more sympathetic for the boy, but everyone was painfully aware that Jake was not after you with intentions of marrying. Sure, he liked you, but it was in a way that only Jake could comprehend. To everyone else, it seemed like he viewed you as a conquest, thinking he would have gratification like no other if he was able to steal you back for just one more night. It was vile, and no matter how much you tried to stop it, it only seemed like he was even more mesmerized by you.

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry.” You nodded, fidgeting with your hands on your lap. You looked guilty, even if you had nothing to be guilty about. There was never an instance between you and Jake that Danny was unaware of. He was the first to know, and he knew it all. Perhaps your guilt was not accredited to your night spent with Jake, but rather your deepest desire for the chance again. It was horrendous to even consider it, but Jake was unlike anyone else. Again, you had no desire to be with him in any way that mattered, and in truth, sex did not necessarily matter. At least, not in any way worthwhile. You knew that you were undeniably attracted to Jake, and you likely would jump at the opportunity to have sex with him again, as long as it didn’t hurt anyone else. Knowing that it was implausible to invite Jake in without disaster, you shoved that idea as far down as humanly possible. For a long time, it never seemed to resurface, but every time he attempted to ignite the old flame, it seemed to push forward a little more. Tonight, it was impossible to ignore.

By times it seemed like guilt was the only emotion you knew how to feel. Guilt for past mistakes before Danny ever came in to your life, and for being in his life after said mistake. Guilt for giving into his temptation, even if it was just slightly, and even more so for rejecting him while knowing you would accept if the circumstance were different. There was no possibility you could bring the idea up to your boyfriend, and you weren’t sure if you even wanted to. The desire was strong, but not nearly enough to risk losing everything. Instead, you opted to suffer in silence. It was always better that way, anyway. A problem could only be true once it was spoken into existence.

You knew you were incorrect about all of your conclusions, but you chose to continue on the path, anyway. It didn’t matter if you kept it silent; Jake Kiszka was very much a problem, and that would never go away unless it was dealt with directly.

Perhaps it was the decade of friendship that made the predicament so troublesome. You would never bring the situation to an ultimatum, mostly because it was wrong to make him choose between you two, but a small part of you was afraid that you would not win that battle. Your relationship was strong, and had been since the very beginning, but you were unsure if you could compete with a lifetime of friendship, nor the bandmate bond. Jake was going to be a part of Danny’s life indefinitely, and not just in a social setting. They were family, coworkers, and friends. You knew that if you wanted to be in his, too, you would have to learn how to cope with the reality.

“You okay, trouble?” Josh smiled, pointing his gaze at you. You gave a nod, trying to look as pleasant as possible. Even the sound of the nickname made your stomach churn, even if Josh used it in a much better way than his brother did.

“Oh, yeah. Think I just need to get out of the work zone and into the fun one.” You chuckled.

“So what’s with that, anyway?” You asked, handing the whiskey glass to the boy in hopes that you would be lucky enough to brush fingers with him. Any contact was worth the world, even if it was minuscule.

“What?” Jake grinned, doing just as you hoped he would. As he received the glass, he let his fingers rest on yours for just a second too long.

“Why do you call me trouble?” You laughed, unsure of where his nickname originated.

“Oh, I forgot your name. Had to think of something on the spot.” He joked, taking a sip of his drink and watching for a reaction. You rolled your eyes, knowing very well that it was a lie. “You’re gonna make me say it, aren’t you?” He sighed, leaning in a little closer.

“I would appreciate it.” You gave him a sweet smile, coaxing the answer from him.

“It’s my indirect way of saying I like you, sweetheart.” He hummed, eyes never leaving your face. He was revelling in the blush that dusted your cheeks. “Plus, a girl as beautiful as you is nothing but trouble.”

“Don’t flatter me, Jacob.” You brushed him off, but felt yourself leaning closer to him over the bar top.

“But it’s my favourite thing to do.”

“I’m going to grab another drink.” You announced, standing as you looked over the table. “Anyone else?” All of the boys put in their orders, thanking you for the offer. Just as you were about to turn, Jake stood, too.

“You’ll need someone to help carry them,” he said in response to your pointed stare. Without argument or agreement, you turned and walked towards the bar. You didn’t have to see him to know he was following; you could feel it. You took post at the bar, waiting for the bartenders to come to you. Jake joined you, wasting no time placing a light hand on your back. “What’s bothering you, sweetheart?” He asked, voice low enough so only you could hear him.

“I’m just peachy, Jake. No need to worry.” You grumbled, pulling out your card to pay for the order.

“For some reason, I don’t think that’s true.” He also pulled out his wallet, ready to race you for the bill. “Usually you already would have threatened to throw a drink at me. Tonight, you won’t even look at me.”

“It would be a waste of a perfectly good drink.” Your response was short and sweet, clearly showcasing your desire to end the conversation.

“Have I got you that bothered, tonight?” You could hear the smirk in his tone before you even looked at him.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you scoffed, finally looking over to meet his eyes. The sight of his face was enough to make your heart skip a beat, so beautiful that it was almost haunting. The parallels of the two universes were debilitating when you thought about them for too long; one in which Jake would trip over himself to flatter you, and one where you would kick him to the ground before he could try.

“Don’t have to; you do that for me.” His smirk turned into a smile, his hand still lingering on your lower back.

“How many times do I have to tell you this is never going to happen?” You sighed.

“When you actually mean it.” He chirped back, wasting no time.

“I think I’ve been pretty clear.” You argued. “You know, like the the million other times I’ve told you.”

“Right,” he nodded, but mischief was dancing in his eyes. “So you don’t like it when I stop by to see you before everyone else? Or when I tell you how pretty you look?” He chuckled, already knowing the answer. “I think that you do like it, just not when Danny’s around.” And he was correct, as disgusting as it was. You had said a million times that you didn’t care for his antics, but he could see the dishonesty as if it were written all over you and stamped on your forehead in big, red letters.

“I think that you should learn how to listen, Jacob.” Even as you spoke, you could feel yourself leaning into his side ever so slightly, wordlessly inviting his attention and touch.

“I’m listening, y/n.” He assured you, mouth leaning in closer to your ear. You were enveloped in a cloud of alcohol, both of your inhibitions lowered and the primal pleasure from the touch was undeniable. “I’ll listen to you all night, if you’ll let me, but I don’t think you’ll be doing much talking.”

“Jake, I’m in love with your best friend.” You reminded.

“I’m not asking you to be in love with me.” He said, lips barely hovering over your ear now.

“This is wrong. You have to stop.” You muttered, but the warning was feeble, barely any strength behind it. He had finally gotten ahead, and he was relishing in his victory. “He’s your best friend, Jake. This is despicable.”

“Fine,” he seemed like he was going to bargain, but knowing Jake, his bargain was not worth the time or energy. “If you won’t let me take you home, you can go over there and bat your eyes, give him a sweet little smile, and ask him if he’ll let me join.” The idea struck you like a blow to the gut, settling in your bones and engulfing any existing thought in your brain. It seeped under your skin and into your veins like poison, diluting any healthy rationale and suffocating any moral. You had been so volatile at the thought of Jake that it had never even crossed your mind to think of that possibility. He could see it in your eyes, the flash of excitement at the suggestion. “See? I knew you didn’t mean it, trouble.” He tightened his grip on you slightly as he watched the elation deflate from your eye. He wasn’t suggesting it, he was only offering the idea to prove his point. “You want me, but you don’t want to hurt him.”

“Yeah, because the only use I have for you is sex. I’m in love with him.” You snapped, furious that he had played you in such a way.

“That’s all I wanted to hear, sweetheart.” He grinned. “But, if you do want to ask him, I don’t mind sharing.” He hummed. “I’d do anything to have you, again.”

“Fuck you,” you brushed off his comment, turning to the bartender and ordering the list of drinks that the others had requested.

“You’d like to,” he teased, paying for the order before you could even think of doing so. He gave you one last smile before grabbing two glasses from the counter and making his way over to the table. You tried to satiate the bubble of anger as you waited for the rest of your order, but it proved nearly impossible. You walked back to the table with a sour taste in your mouth and an overwhelming urge to go home. Worse than anything else, when you returned, the distant pained look in Danny’s eye made the interaction all the more disturbing. He knew, like always, and there was no way to hide it. When you looked to him, he averted his gaze towards Sam, who was sitting on the other side of him.

“I don’t know what to say, Danny!” You exploded, tears prickling your eyes. “I love you, and I want to be with you. Always have, and I’ve known that from the minute I met you.”

“I feel that way too, so I just don’t understand what’s so special about Jake! If you want to be with me, and you love me so much, why does it seem like you cling to the attention from him?” He ran a hand through his hair, not wanting to be upset with you but having no other way to express his feelings.

“If I could have it my way, I’d never speak to him again! I never wanted to, and then I started dating you and he magically appeared!” You tried to word your frustration as best you could. “I’m not trying to entertain him, but it gets a little hard to ignore him when he’s always around and doesn’t want to leave me alone!” You took a seat beside him at the table, silently begging him to look at you. “Danny, you have to know that I would never do that to you.”

“I know!” He snapped, causing you to recoil from the harshness. He finally looked up at you, remorse evident in his eyes. “I’m sorry, y/n. I know you wouldn’t.” He assured you. “Do you have feelings for him?”

“No, baby.” You reached out for his hand. It was not a lie; you did not have any romantic feelings or anything of the sorts when it came to Jake. You were attracted to him, and you knew that he knew as much. You didn’t have to remind him. “I only feel that way for you.” You assured him.

“It’s just hard, y/n. He looks at you sometimes and I wonder… I just wonder when the day will come when he finally grows up and realizes that he wants to settle down, because I know you’ll be the only person he’s looking at.”

“Jake will never grow up.” You shut that idea down, both of you quickly realizing how blasphemous it sounded. “And it doesn’t matter if he’s looking at me, because I don’t want that with him. I had feelings for him a very long time ago, and he hurt me really bad. There’s no part of me that feels like that way for him, now. I fell in love with you, and fell for a reason. I want you to know that you’re the only one who has my heart.”

Danny was fidgeting with his hands, a sure sign that he was upset. You couldn’t blame him; if it were the other way around, you would be, too. You wished you knew how to ward off Jake for good, and in turn suffocate any of the remaining sexual desires for him. You hated that amidst the struggle, Danny felt hurt enough to doubt your love for him. Of all the things that you have felt, or imagined about Jake, they didn’t hold a candle to Danny. Under the table, you reached out for his knee. You rested your palm on his leg, thumb gently running over the fabric of his jeans. You could feel him relax under your touch almost immediately. His eyes flickered towards you, seeing the sincerity in your face almost immediately. He leaned back in the booth and slipped his hand atop of yours, a silent show of affection.

You motioned your head towards the door, pleading with him for a moment alone. He nodded, standing first and allowing you to lead the way. You both headed outside, hand in hand with no regard for anyone else at the table. When you broke out onto the patio, the cool evening stung your skin. You were almost nervous to look at him, unsure of what to say. “I know you’re attracted to him, y/n. It’s not a secret.” The words weighed you down as if you were buried in cement.

“I don’t love him, Danny.”

“No, but you do feel something for him.”

“Not in any way that matters.” You took a step towards the wooden fence of the entryway. He followed, looking down at you as he took your side. “Not in any way that compares to you.”

“I know.” He assured you. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” He shrugged.

“I know.” You felt your chest ache at the proclamation of pain. That was something you never wanted to cause him. “I don’t know what to do. He’s… persistent.”

“Yeah, always been that way.” Danny explained. “Guess it didn’t matter as much before because I’ve never loved someone as much as I love you.” You looked to the ground, the weight of shame making it impossible for you to look at him. “Look, I’m not mad at you.” He said, his hand snaking around your waist. “I knew that this would always be an issue, but I love you enough to work through it.”

“I don’t think that’s fair, Danny.” You sighed, closing your eyes at the feeling of his touch. It was the most comforting thing to ever exist.

“Listen, you’ve never actually done anything with him, have you?”

“Of course not.” You shook your head, unable to imagine betraying him in such a way.

“He’s a dog, and I’m sure you know that. I’m not really worried that you’ll leave, or anything like that. I think maybe in the beginning I was, but I know that after this many years, if something was going to happen, it would have happened already.” He pulled you into him, allowing you to rest your head on his chest without actually having to turn to look at him. “I don’t think you slept with him and then got with me as revenge. If so, you’ve played a fantastic game.” He laughed, and you did too. “You’ve told him him to back off, and I have, too, but I don’t think he would have stuck with it if he didn’t believe there was a chance.” You closed your eyes, bracing for the impact of a breakup. You wouldn’t blame him if he did. “It’s okay to be attracted to him. You’re human, and it’s a normal human thing. I also know you enough to know that you wouldn’t have gotten with him at all if you never felt anything for him.”

“It doesn’t make it right.” You were fully willing to take blame, to understand that this was a despicable thing for you to be feeling.

“No, but what I’m saying is, I continued to date you knowing the history. Still do. You were always honest with me. You’ve never lied to me, and I respect that more than anything else. I see you two together; I know that spark is there. I’m not going to punish you for that because you’ve never tried to hide it or lie about it. It’s normal for you to be attracted to people, and it’s normal for me to be hurt about it. But I think our spark is a hell of a lot bigger, and I love you far too much to not try and work this out.” You finally felt a tear slip from your eye as you wrapped your arms around him.

“I wish I never met him. I wish I could have met you, first. I don’t want to feel this way.” Your words were muffled from your face being buried in his chest, but he got the message. He held you to him, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know, and part of me does, too.” He whispered. You both sat there, holding each other in hopes that it would take all of the bad away. “I think that you need some sleep, because I can see how tired you are. We can figure out how to get through it, and I know we can, but it should be in the morning.” He said, cupping your cheek in his hand and guiding your head up to look at him. He swiped away the tears with his thumb, giving you a small smile to let you know he meant everything he said.

“I don’t deserve you.” You mumbled, completely lost in his eyes. The more you stared, the more things seemed to feel better. He was home, and he always would be. He was the love of your life, and you were more certain of that than anything else. “I’m sorry that I caused this. I wish I could go back in time and make some different decisions, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t know you at all.” He theorized, and that was the worst thought of all. “It’s been four years, bug. We can make anything work. I know you love me, and I trust you; I always have.” he leaned down and placed a kiss on your lips, the feeling more soothing than any words shared.

“If it means I get to keep you, I’ll never look at him ever again.” You swore to it, knowing deep down that when it came to your relationship with Danny, you would go to the ends of the earth to salvage it.

“I don’t think we’ll have to go that far.” He chuckled, placing another kiss to your lips. “And you do deserve me. I know that you do, because after four years, you’ve never given in to him. If he flirted with me like that, I’m sure I would’ve cracked by now.” At the thought of it, you both dissolved into a fit of laughter. “Jake has always been Jake. I think he feels like he lost, and he never really got over it.”

“He did lose,” you laughed “if it were ever a competition between you two, he wouldn’t have even made it to the starting line.” You leaned up for another kiss as you finished, so incredibly grateful to have someone so understanding. Danny was the best in every sense of the word, and you had known that long before that night.

“I think after so long of you brushing it off and telling me it was okay, it was just routine. At first, him and I had plenty of words and none of them were polite. After a while, I saw that you could handle your own, and you always told me not to worry or fight with him. I trust you, but I probably shouldn’t have been so passive about it.” He explained. “If I ever thought he pushed it too far, or if he had made you uncomfortable, I would have killed him. Still would, actually. But you always seemed to laugh it off. Every time I mentioned it, you never seemed to care about him flirting, just about hurting me. I think we’ve all known for a long time, and I think that it just became so normal that we chose to ignore it.”

“Jake never bothered me.” You shrugged. “He’s harmless, and I know that. Think everyone else does, too. He just loves to flirt, and he loves attention. Sometimes, it’s actually kind of funny to see him try so hard and make a fool of himself. I care about Jake as a friend, and I do quite like him for company, but I guess I never wanted anyone to fight about it because I knew he could never be you. I think we all just let it go too far without talking about it.” You said, allowing your fingers to dance with his. Your eyes scanned his face, noticing how beautiful it looked in the dim moonlight. You felt stupid for ever having a shred of attraction for Jake, because Danny was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen, inside and out. You had the world in your hands, and you took it for granted. “I never wanted to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. You’re the most important person in my life, and I love you with every ounce of my being.”

“I love you, and I know you love me. I know we love each other enough to make anything work.” You knew he was right, because there was nothing you wouldn’t do to keep him by your side.

“Thank you for being the best.” You whispered. “And for wanting to work it out. I’ll do whatever it takes.”

“I know you will.” He placed a kiss to your head. “You don’t have to thank me for anything.” You rested in his arms for a moment, and the longer you spent there, the more things seemed to look up.

“I’m gonna head home. I think I need to go to bed.” You told him, pulling back slightly.

“Do you want me to come with you?” He said, looking down at you with concern.

“No, please stay and enjoy the rest of your night. I ruined it enough already.” You shook your head. “I’m just going to take a shower and go to sleep.”

“I’d enjoy it with you, too, you know. And you didn’t ruin anything.” He told you, looking more serious than he’d ever been.

“I know, baby.” You assured him. “I’ll be okay. Go in and have a few drinks, and have fun. I’ll be waiting for you when you’re ready to come to bed.” You smiled, standing on your tip-toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you.” He hummed, stealing one last kiss before you made your departure. “Call me if you need me, or even if you just want to say hi.”

“You know I will.” You gave his hand one last squeeze before taking a step away. He blew you a kiss before you turned out of sight, and as always, you pretended to catch it. He only went back inside once you were out of sight.

Luckily for you, your home wasn’t too far away from the bar. You normally walked to and from work, and it was almost your favourite part of the day. It allowed you a few moments of peace, and you could decompress from any of the day’s excitement. As you made your way down the street, you felt the weight on your shoulders lift. You felt better knowing that Danny was aware Jake was no more than a guilty pleasure, and that he was the love of your life. Part of you still felt dirty for even feeling as such, but the knowledge that you were both willing to work through it was more important than anything else. As you tumbled up your porch stairs, you wasted no time unlocking the door and bustling inside. You were eager for a shower to wash the stress of the day off, and your stomach was begging you for a bite to eat.

You kicked your shoes off and immediately went to the kitchen. You rustled around in the fridge before you found leftovers from last night’s dinner. As you warmed it up, you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped out of them. You placed them on the back of a chair and made a mental note to throw them in the laundry basket later. You ate in silence, enjoying the sound of nothing after hearing the constant buzz of a bar for hours on end. You threw your dishes in the sink and made your way upstairs to the bathroom. After you showered, you felt like a brand new person. You took extra time to do your skincare routine, and blow dried your hair before climbing into bed. The sheets were welcoming, still lingering with the scent of Danny’s cologne. When you nestled your head in the pillows, you were surrounded by the smell of his shampoo. It was the epitome of comfort, and you wished you never had to leave. It didn’t take too long until your eyes grew heavy, and the thought of sleep was too tempting to resist. You pulled the blankets up to your chin and drifted off into a slumber.

When you woke, it was still dark outside and the bed was still very much empty. You thought it was strange, figuring Danny would be back and asleep long before then. You rubbed your eyes, looking to the alarm clock on your beside and noticing that it was well into the night, now. You figured that Danny was the safest with his brothers, and you need not worry about someone over a foot taller and much stronger than you. You were about to close your eyes and fall back to sleep, but you heard the distant shutting of a door and muted chatter. Danny must have invited the boys over, which he so often did. You figured now that he was home safe, you could sleep soundly.

You settled back into the pillows, lax against the mattress and welcoming of any slumber that was willing to come to you. The sound of the same chatter began to fill the hallway, striking you as something even more strange. If you were sleeping, Danny aimed to keep the house as quiet as possible. It was unlike him to be speaking so loudly, especially so close to the bedroom. You sat up again, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Before you could even think to speak, or stand and confront the disturbance, the door of the bedroom creaked open. The chatter was obsolete, now, and the hallway light pooled in through the opening. You saw Danny, immediately prompting a smile on your face. Once he saw you were awake, he took a step inside. “Hi baby.” You crooned, excited that he was home. He didn’t respond, just took another step further into the room.

Behind him was another body, one that you couldn’t recognize through the darkness. When he turned and the flash of light reflected off the walls just right, your stomach dropped. “Hello, trouble.” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“What’s…. What’s up?” You looked between the two boys, unsure of how to react to the situation.

“Mind if we turn a light on?” Jake asked. “Hard to see your beautiful face when it’s so dark in here.” The words settled in the pit of your stomach, making you unable to form a coherent response. Even in the simplicity of the statement, the tone of his voice alone sent a rush of arousal straight to your core. You were too close to sleep to have any inkling of right or wrong.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking to your boyfriend for an answer. Even in the minimal light, you could sense an air of mischief on his features. You shuffled around, searching blindly for the lamp on your nightstand. Once you located the switch, you flicked it on. A soft yellow hue decorated the walls, illuminating both boys in all of their beauty. “Better?”

“Much.” Jake smiled, but it was all but genuine. You weren’t sure if you were in a dream, mind crazed from the days whirlwind of events and fabricating some sort of twisted narrative that you wished was real. Although you seemed awake, the haze of dream and imagination nowhere in sight, the situation seemed too odd to be true. You watched the two, curious as to what they were doing, and even more so about what they were thinking. If you were in reality, they were acting more out of character than they ever had before. “Did you get some sleep, sweetheart?” Jake questioned, eyes lingering everywhere except for your own. He looked as if he was already imagining what lie beneath the mountain of blankets.

“Yeah,” you nodded, figuring the best way to find out what was happening was to play along.

“That’s good,” Jake nodded, looking to his counterpart. “You’re definitely going to need it. Long night ahead.” He gave another smile, but this one radiated excitement. You looked to Danny, silently pleading with him for an answer.

“What?” Danny asked, tone only moderately harsh. You could tell the softness was dancing behind his eyes, waiting to be seen. “Isn’t this exactly what you wanted?” He took a step towards the bed.

“What is this?” You pried, unable to answer without more information.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’re smarter than that.” Jake urged you to answer your own question. You looked between them, studying each of their expressions for a moment. When you did, your eyes widened, mouth slightly agape in shock. You recognized both expressions far too well, and one was something you hadn’t seen in a very long time. “There you go.” Jake gave the small utter of praise, happy you were on the same page.

“I figured if you want him so bad, I’ll let you have him, but I’ve gotta have my fun, too.” Danny murmured, also looking at you with a hunger in his eyes you had only seen a few times. You were gazing at him in wonder, as if he’d given you the gift of life, unable to imagine a better way to rid yourself of the horrendous things you were feeling about Jake. “That sound okay to you, baby?” He asked, moving to your side. He looked down at you, the streak of dominance that he had a tendency for was incredibly apparent. As he waited for a reply, there was no doubt in your mind that he was more than serious. It was grievous, the fire dancing in his pupils. There would be no backtalk, no bargaining, nothing of the sorts. He was kind enough to let you have a taste of your own guilty pleasure, but it was under his authority. He was in charge, and you didn’t have the power to be anything other than obedient.

“Yes, daddy.” You spoke, in utter awe of the power he had over you. Jake looked to Danny, his expression showing nothing short of elation at the sound of your words. Danny took a glance over at him, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You could smell the alcohol from both of them, understanding that within their drunk ramblings, you must have came up in conversation. In attempt to settle the score, this was their conclusion.

“I told you.” Was all he said.

“Told him what?” You squeaked, almost embarrassed at your own willingness to submit to him.

“I told him all about you, baby.” He assured you. “Told him how well you listen, and all about how much of a whore you can be.” The ache between your legs was growing more intense by the second, still unable to comprehend the situation you had found yourself in. “But he’d know all about that, wouldn’t he?” His comment was snide, but you didn’t let it bother you. Your eyes flickered to Jake, a nervous jitter rushing through you. You were quite familiar with Danny’s character, and when the whole thing was over, he would go right back to the sweet boy you saw most of the time. He reached out, grabbing your chin in his hand and guiding you to look back at him. “I’m talking to you, not him.”

“Y-yes,” you nodded, agreeing with his statement. “He does.” You felt no shame in it, now. What was usually the elephant in the room was now nothing more than a driving force for the nights events.

“It was so good that you’re still thinking about it, yeah?” You nodded against the force of his hand, a small noise of confirmation sounding from your chest. “Better than I can make you feel?” He raised an eyebrow, but in no way were you willing to engage in his trap with both of them holding so much authority over you. “He’s going to get you off, and then we’ll see if you can give me an answer.” Your cheeks burned red, now nervous at the thought. You knew that Danny and Jake had likely discussed this in depth before coming home to you, but you weren’t sure if Danny really knew what he was getting himself into.

“I-I don’t-“

“What?” He snapped. “Been inviting him in for years, but now you’re too shy?” He taunted. “All talk, no action?” He could see the spark of indignation in your eye, happy that he’d pressed the right button. “Don’t worry, I’ll get my turn, too. So, you just keep your mouth shut and do as you’re fucking told.” He said, no debate about the matter.

“Okay,” you agreed, eyes never once straying from him. Although you had desperately wanted a moment like this with Jake, you still seemed to be plagued with guilt over the matter even with Danny’s explicit permission. He noticed it in your eyes as he moved to sit on the chair you had placed beside the bed. When you put it there for the intent of reading, you surely never thought it would be used for such a vulgar showing.

“It’s okay.” He assured you, his tone much softer than it was a moment before. “I’m okay.” You were both locked in a staring contest, but as he uttered the profession of comfortability, your worried gazed turned into a silent profession of love. Under the hard exterior, he let a loving smile peek through. You let out an exhale, content with knowing he was okay. With that, you turned to look at Jake, unable to deny the flutter of excitement in your belly. When he saw the hopeful gleam in your eyes, he couldn’t help but smile down at you, too.

“Never thought I’d get to see you like this again, trouble.” He stated, taking a step towards the edge of the bed. You sat patiently, waiting for an order from him. Although long ago, your night spent with him left you aware of his love for control, too. “Are you going to be good for me, too? Listen to me just like you do for him?”

“Yes, sir.” You nodded, entranced by the thought of him touching you again. He took a deep breath, the sound of the words washing over him like a shower of relief. He was more than thrilled that you had remembered him so well, thrilled that after so many years the experience for you was still so memorable in your mind.

“Come here, angel.” He beckoned you towards him, expecting immediate action. You slipped out from under the blanket, rising to your knees and moving towards him on the bed. When you were within arms reach, he cupped your cheek in his hand, peering down at you with adoration. He wasn’t shy to admit that he was elated to have you again. As much as his tirade was about mischief, the need to make you admit you wanted him, it also had a lot to do with his own need for you. He leaned down, wasting no time in pulling you into a kiss. It was hungry, desperate to make up for years of abstaining from the feeling. His other hand found your hip, fingers inching under the t-shirt that was covering you.

The sensation was unexplainable, the pleasure derived just from kissing him was overwhelming. Paired with the feeling of his hands on your skin, it was driving you insane. He used his wrist to hold up the fabric as his palm drifted towards your ass, he let his hand rest there, the cool metal of his ring he adorned on his finger sending a shiver through you. His grip was tight and showcased exactly how excited he was for the ability to have you again. He broke from you but didn’t move too far away. His nose was still ghosting over yours, almost as if he was scared you would disappear if he moved too far away. “Seems like you were waiting for us,” he noted, his finger slipping under the thin material of your underwear. “Were you hoping that we would come and take care of you?” He cooed, his sympathy clearly false as his lips drifted towards your jaw.

“G-god yes,” you let out a shaky sigh as his lips ghosted over your neck. He was making it a point to show you how well he remembered the sensitive spots, finding them with ease in hopes you might let a moan slip past your lips. He’d been yearning to hear it for so long that he wasn’t sure he could wait any longer.

“Let me take this off, angel.” He hummed, letting his hands snake under your shirt. As if the realization truly hit you as to what you were doing, you froze at the request, quickly looking to Danny with a hint of panic in your eye.

“It’s okay, baby.” He said, noticing your worry. He was sitting in the chair, observing the sight without a worry in the world. “This was my idea. I’ll tell you if I’m uncomfortable.” He said, hoping to crush your fear once and for all.

“Let me take care of you,” Jake said, also attempting to ease your worry. You looked back to him, giving a slight nod. With that, you allowed him to slip your shirt over your head. The cool air hit you immediately, but Jake was quick with his hands to warm you back up. His thumb brushed over your nipple, the light touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. “Do you know how long I’ve waited to see you like this?” He asked, taking a moment to admire the sight before him. You bit the inside of your lip, nervous about being on display for both boys at once. “It was terrible, only being able to dream about it.” He muttered, leaning forward for another kiss. Perhaps it was because of the incessant need for him that had been eating away at you for months, or maybe because you were finally realizing that he wanted you just as bad, but you were a mess before he even took your clothes off, and you were desperate for him to keep going. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, gently biting down as his hand continued to explore your breast. The friction from the pad of his thumb was delightful, even if he was barely touching you. You let a small moan slip into his mouth, immediately sending him into euphoria.

“Did you miss me?” His fingers trailed down your torso, ticking the skin as he familiarized himself with you.

“Yeah,” you admitted, all sense of shame disappearing long ago. He moved back slightly, ridding himself of his shirt.

“Let’s get rid of these, okay?” His fingers slid under the side of your underwear, pulling it back and releasing his hold so it snapped back against your skin. You nodded, laying back on the bed and removing the flimsy fabric from your body. Jake moved towards the side of the bed, casting a sideways glance at Danny as he did so. “If you ask him nicely, do you think he’d give us some alone time?” Jake smirked, raising an eyebrow at you as he asked. “You always seem to get your way.”

“Watch it.” Danny warned, clearly not a fan of his joke.

“Just thought I’d try.” Jake said, brushing off the harsh reaction.

“Can’t perform under pressure?” The snide comment was used for show, Danny making it a point to let Jake know that he was not the one in charge of the situation.

“Feeling left out, Daniel?” Jake asked as he undid his belt buckle. “Jealous, maybe?”

“Haven’t really seen anything to be concerned about, yet.” The argument only proved that Jake was invited over solely for the sake of you. After four years of strictly monogamous dating, Danny never seemed to have an interest in sharing you with anybody. You knew he would never do anything that would put a strain on your relationship, or anything that he was blatantly uncomfortable with, but you were certain he was likely struggling a little bit with the situation. When you turned to look at him again, his eyes didn’t seem angry at all; he was relaxed, sitting as if this was a normal occurrence. You realized then that Danny wasn’t worried at all about competing with Jake, because he knew there was no need. He just wanted Jake to know that the situation was reliant on his generosity, and he could put an end to it if he wanted to do so.

When you looked back, the comment seemed to spark a flame in Jake’s eyes. One that spoke loudly about his love of competitive sport, and to him, this was exactly what the situation was. He opted not to respond, instead climbing into bed on the opposite side of you, ensuring Danny had a perfect view of what was coming next. You watched your boyfriend for a moment, searching for any signs of discomfort, but he was perfectly pleased with watching you fulfill your fantasy. You assumed it was because he knew that Jake would only have you for a moment, and he was promised a lifetime. Danny was never one for jealousy, and it was evident that not even in this situation did it bother him. The conversation you both shared earlier had allowed him to settle any fear and open his mind to possibility. Jake and Danny had shared an in depth discussion before even uttering the idea of him joining Danny. Rules, boundaries, and the knowledge that if someone was uncomfortable at any point, it would be over. The harmless banter was inevitable, but they were both on the same page; they were in it to please you, and that was it.

Jakes hand slipped between your legs, his fingers immediately running through your folds to gather the arousal he’d been causing you. As if it was something he did so often, something he knew so well, his fingers immediately found your clit. He traced circles into the sensitive bud, sending a rush of emotion through you. It had been so long that you had almost forgotten how fantastic it felt to be touched by him. He kept the pressure light, but his motion steady. He barely had to do anything to pry a moan from your lips. “Just like that?” He asked, looking over your face with a distant longing behind his eyes. “Does that feel good?”

“So good,” you breathed, eyes fluttering closed. You could feel his erection strained against his jeans, begging for any type of relief. You were eager to touch him, almost more so than you were for him to touch you. From what you remembered, Jake was not one to take things slow, but you wondered if he was pacing himself in fear of crossing any boundaries. He had spent years pining after you, always being shot down and eventually he had to understand that he would never get an opportunity to be with you again. Now that you were here, with his hands on you, and his name rolling so beautifully from your tongue, he wanted to savour it.

He increased the pressure, gaze never faltering in hopes to sear the memory into his brain forever. You let a gasp out, your hips raising from the bed to meet the movement of his thumb. He gave you a small smile, content at the reaction. “Give him a show, sweetheart. Make some noise, thank him for being so kind.” Jake purred, eyes flickering up to Danny for a moment. Your eyes followed the same direction, catching your boyfriends gaze just as Jake slipped a finger inside you. You held his stare, feeling a moan rise in your throat. You weren’t sure if it was from Jakes movement, or the carnal desire that was written all over Danny’s face. His jaw was hard set, chest heaving with his breath, but his eyes were not angry; they were half-lidded, clouded with enjoyment from the sight.

Jake gave a slight curl of his fingers as he began pumping them into you, his thumb drifting over your clit each time. The feeling was intense, only made worse when he leaned down to pull your nipple into his mouth. Your pleasure was impossible to hide, the work Jake was doing was intensified because you had the opportunity to watch Danny. With his eyes locked with yours, you felt a great need to reach out and touch him. You thought he looked quite lonely, and you were overwhelmed with the desire to have him, too. He noticed the look you were giving him, quite elated at the knowledge you still wanted him even with Jake so accessible to you. You saw him palm himself through his jeans, clearly worked up and desperate for relief, too.

Jake let his teeth sink into your nipple, just slight enough to catch you off guard. Although he would never admit it, he did feel a spark of jealousy upon noticing your disengagement from his actions. He sped his fingers, pulling you back into a cloud of euphoria. Your eyes fluttered closed, your head resting back on the pillow as your mind swirled with the threat of an orgasm. Abruptly, he stopped his movements, violently tearing you away from the dream-like state. You turned to look at him, barely catching his eye before he was slinking downwards on the bed. He settled between your legs, guiding one over his shoulder. You let a sigh of delight out as he brought his mouth to your cunt, running his tongue through you to get a taste of his own hard work.

“F-fuck,” you gasped, his tongue making quick work at circling your clit. Your hand instinctively reached for his hair, fingers tangling in the roots and giving a slight tug every time he hit a particularly pleasant spot. He added his fingers to you, resuming his earlier pace. You were thrown into a whole new dimension of bliss, already close to a climax with little effort. His tongue was just as devilish as his personality; every move was calculated, aimed for maximum impact. He was desperate to get you to an orgasm, needing it more than he needed water to survive. His own enjoyment was almost overshadowing yours, every now and again he would let out a moan against you just to show you how happy he was to be of service to you. “Jake, m’gonna cum.” You warned.

“Look at me.” Danny spoke, now. The order ran through you, his voice sending a new type of pleasure through you. You let your head fall to the side, more than willing to follow the order. The look of longing in his eyes was stronger than you’d ever seen from him before. It was strong enough that it immediately sent you over the edge upon noticing it. Your climax hit you hard, all of your muscles tensing as you let out a slur of moans and curses. The walls were decorated with your sounds of pleasure, the memory sinking into the foundation with intent to stay forever. The obscene display was almost too much for Danny to sit through, his need for you too great to be ignored.

“Taste even better than I remember, sweetheart.” Jake’s voice echoed in your ears, but you were too far gone to cognitively understand what he was saying. You barely had time to come down before Danny was on his feet, barking an order at Jake to get up.

Your head was spinning, trying to focus on something other than the residual energy of your orgasm pulsing through you. At Danny’s request, Jake stood without argument. Your orgasm was glistening on his chin, adorned like a trophy of his most proudest moment. Without another word, Danny stripped himself of his clothes and took the position that Jake had previously held. He wasted no time, immediately placing soft kisses to the inside of your thighs in attempt to convey his love for you. Danny was not jealous of Jake because he was pleasuring you; he was just eager to do it himself. “I told you I’d get my turn, baby.” He mumbled, lips still ghosting over your skin. Jake was watching you, almost seeming unsure of what to do with himself. “Do you want me, beautiful?” His fingertips grazed the outside of your thighs, selling on your hips in a firm hold.

“Yeah,” You nodded, reaching out to cup his cheek with your hand. You let your thumb drift over his cheek, showcasing the love you had for him in the small gesture. He turned his head slightly, placing a kiss to the pad of your thumb.

“I want to hear how bad you want it,” he muttered, his voice low and his order clear.

“Please, daddy. I need you. I need you so bad.” Your shameless begging was put to good use, as usual. Danny was always willing to give you what you wanted, but there was a few things he liked hearing. You were never one to deprive him of his desires, mostly because they were few and far between. He let out a hum of satisfaction, pleased at the sound of your words.

“Okay, baby.” He sighed, as if your begging was tireless and brutal. He was so quick to give in to you that it even bothered him, sometimes. “You know I’ll always give you what you want.” He was inches away from you now, so close that it was near painful to wait any longer. “But you have to take care of him, too, since he was so good to you.” Without looking up, Danny nodded his head towards Jake. The thought was thrilling, to be used by both boys however they wished. You thought that there was no better idea in the world. Your eyes fluttered towards Jake, looking expectedly at him, as if you were waiting for him to tell you what he wanted. The expression was crippling for him, the innocent aura engraved into your face tainted with your willingness to do whatever he pleased. “Show him what a good little whore you can be.”

“Yes, sir.” You breathed, nearly vibrating with excitement at the thought of Jake taking the rest of his clothes off.

“She always been this obedient?” Jake asked, a hint of humour in his tone.

“Took a while,” you could hear the smirk in Danny’s voice without even looking at him. “But I think it paid off.” You bit the inside of your lip, holding back any snide comments you wanted to convey about his jabs. You knew better, and in truth, he wasn’t lying. It was very rare for you to talk back in the bedroom, and even more so for you to contest his authority in any way. Danny was so kind and catering in every aspect of every day life, but during sex, his kindness was limited and his word was final. You learned quite quickly that if you chose to challenge him, it only made it harder for you to get what you wanted.

Jake hummed an agreement, an unspoken praise for Danny’s work. As he unbuttoned his jeans, Danny prompted you to shift closer to the edge of the bed. Jake kicked the rest of his clothes to the side, uncaring about where they landed. The sight of him naked began to form another knot in your belly, promoted without any touching at all. Jake was gorgeous, and it seemed like he had only gotten more so over the years. “Open,” he commanded, stepping closer to you. You did as he asked, turning your head to the side and opening your mouth, welcoming him to do as he wished. At the same time, Danny lowered his mouth to your cunt, resuming what Jake had been doing earlier. Jake wasted no time thrusting into your mouth, immediately letting out a hiss of pleasure. He started at a slow pace, not wanting to push you too far too soon. You let out a moan, muffled by his cock in your mouth. It was your way of telling both boys you were more than content with the current situation.

Danny slipped his fingers into you, curling them to hit the spot he’d grown so familiar with. Jake was phenomenal, but it was no comparison to your boyfriend. He had spent nearly half a decade memorizing every like and dislike, and undoubtedly had the power to bring you to an orgasm in seconds. Both sensations were equally intense, Danny’s tongue was focused intently on your clit and sending waves of pleasure through you, while the knowledge of pleasuring Jake was euphoric all on its own. Jake let out a groan, unashamedly admitting his enjoyment as he began to move his hips a bit faster. You closed your eyes, aiming to keep your breathing steady and your body relaxed.

“Fuck, y/n.” Jake hissed, his head falling back as he spoke. “Look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” His words sent another rush of arousal through you, seeing every nerve on fire. The praise was heavenly, so good that you realized you could survive off the sound alone. The position you found yourself in was more than just unexpected, but something you never would have imagined possible. Although your processing of the information was difficult, it was incredibly welcomed. Just because you had never thought it possible did not mean you hadn’t dreamed of it a time or two. You almost felt in debt with Danny, knowing that his permission and kindness had given you something so fantastic. You weren’t sure if you could ever thank him enough.

You let out another strangled moan as Danny’s fingers hit the perfect spot, sending another wave of pleasure throughout your body. Paired with the feeling of his tongue, you were dangerously close to the edge once more. You couldn’t verbally warn him, but he knew the signs all too well. His fingers were searing into your hips, holding you to him as he let out a hum, just to let you know that he knew you were close. It was a permissive gesture; he had no intention of stopping or withholding anything from you. Jake was lost in his own world, barely able to comprehend the feeling of fucking you again, even if it was only your mouth. He was hoping you would finish soon, just so he wouldn’t have to pull away first. Danny felt you tense under his hold, now speeding his movements in hopes to bring you to an orgasm. Although he didn’t find himself jealous that Jake was touching you, he did find himself envious that he wasn’t the one behind the moans falling from your lips. He was eager to please you, wanting the gratification of your orgasm like he needed it to survive.

“Are you gonna cum, angel?” Jake managed the words out through gritted teeth, still blissfully lost in the feeling of your mouth. You looked up to him, both of you knowing that you couldn’t respond. He smiled down at you, liking it much better that way. Instead of tormenting you further, he continued to fuck your mouth so you couldn’t get the chance to speak. You watched his face, in awe at the beauty of his expression. Although the scene was far from graceful, he managed to encase gracefulness despite the lack of it within the room. You felt the knot in your belly tighten to a point of no return, and without further warning, another orgasm washed over you. Your muscles tensed as your eyes squeezed shut, and your moans, although silenced, filled the room. Both boys were elated at your performance and were more than ready to move on to the main event.

Jake pulled back from you, letting out a sigh of discontent at the loss of the feeling. “Good to know that you can use your mouth for more than just back talk.” His voice was hoarse, strained by his own need for you. He was eager to fuck you, so much so that he wasn’t sure how much longer he could wait.

“You want him to fuck you now, baby?” Danny asked, mouth still hovering over your cunt. If he could have his way, he’d stay between your legs all night. If it were any normal day, he would have. Your eyes flickered towards him, unsure of how to answer. “It’s okay, you can say it.” His gruff tone made him seem more confident than he truly was; in fact, this was the part he had been dreading all night. Everything that had happened so far was fine, and he was more than willing to admit that he didn’t mind sharing you at all. In the previous context, at least. He’d been struggling with the idea of Jake fucking you, and he was nervous about the possibility of you enjoying it more than you enjoyed him.

“C-can…” you trailed off, looking between them both. You were anxious to speak, not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings. That was the last thing you wanted to do, especially after both of them being so good to you.

“It’s okay,” Jake said, joining in on the conversation. “Whatever you want.” You nodded, knowing that it was likely painful for him to say that. It was vicious, Jake’s need for control in the bedroom. You’d only been with him once, but you remembered it well. For Jake to take the lowest rung of the ladder and realize he had the least important opinion was likely very hard for him to comply with. But it didn’t seem like he had any disdain on his face, nor any trouble with accepting it. In truth, it didn’t bother him at all. He was just elated to be there.

“Can you fuck me?” You asked Danny, a hopeful gleam in your eye. His fear of being obsolete was diminished within a second, the question settling over him like a warm embrace.

“That’s what you want, sweet girl?” He crooned, fighting back a grin.

“Yes, please.” You assured him, the corner of your lips turning upward into a soft smile.

“We can do that,” Danny breathed, rising to his knees. “Come here.” He held his hand out for you. You took it, making a move to sit up. You shuffled to your knees and he immediately brought his hands to you, fingers dusting across your skin as he pulled you into a kiss. He was ecstatic at your question, but he didn’t have to say it for you to know. He was worried that you would rather fuck Jake, but the whole ordeal had only seemed to make you fall in love with him more. He was a phenomenal partner, one that loved with his entire heart and soul. You had nothing to ever complain or worry about with him, and the fact that he was willing to potentially risk his own comfort to give you something you wanted was something you could never expect from him. But, he had done it valiantly and with no hesitation, and he seemed to be enjoying it, too. Your guilty pleasure had opened your relationship to a whole new world of possibilities.

He pulled away, moving to the other side of the bed. “Come here,” he beckoned you towards him. You didn’t need instruction to know what he wanted from you. You kneeled in front of him with your back to him. You placed your palms on the edge of the bed, giddy with excitement. His hands took to your waist, and you looked up a Jake with a hopeful expression. The look alone could have sent him to his knees. “Are you going to be good for us, baby?” Danny asked, lining himself up with your entrance.

“Yes, daddy.” You were quick with a response, eager to continue. “So good, I promise.”

“That’s my girl,” his words came out in more of a growl. Jake took a step towards the bed, gently grabbing your face in his hands.

“You tap my leg if you want to stop.” His order was firm. “Even if you just want me to slow down. I want you to be comfortable.” His eyes showed heaps of concern as he spoke. You barely knew Jake to be caring, but perhaps in the years of lusting after you, he had grown quite fond of you. You thought it would be hard not to, even if you were a heartless creature. You wouldn’t describe Jake as heartless, but definitely careless. His affection was much different than a typical persons, but it was still phenomenal, nonetheless.

“Yes, sir.” The words sent a shiver down his spine, thrilled at the thought of fucking you again. He didn’t even care about penetration; he was more than content with the idea of your mouth for the rest of his life. Danny and Jake shared a look, both agreeing that they could continue. Without any further hesitation, Danny pushed himself into you. You let out a groan, already overwhelmed by the feeling. You didn’t have time to think much about it, because Jake had snaked his hand toward the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. He held your head in place as he brought his hips forward, resting the tip of his cock on your lips as he waited for you to open your mouth. You didn’t make him wait; your lips fell open, an invitation for him to continue as he pleased.

Danny started slow, his thrusts steady but not powerful. Jake was the same, both of them wanting you to get used to the feeling before pushing you any further. Their caution was endearing, but you were too far gone to care for it. You pushed yourself back on Danny, a silent show of your desire for more. A fire flashed in his eyes, the movement sending him into a state of ferocity. His grip on you tightened, and the power behind his hips increased. You let out a moan, the tip of his cock slamming against your cervix as he fucked you. The vibration from your moan sparked the same reaction in Jake. Both boys quickly realized that you were perfectly happy being used by them, and they were happy to utilize it. Jake held your head steady as he set a pace with his own hips, the first moment of sweetness quickly replaced by primal desire.

Jake hit the back of your throat, the feeling coming as a shock to you. Your throat constricted around him as you fought back a gag, but it only drove him further. Danny was lost in you, unable to find any more worry. He brought his hand up and landed it with a sharp smack on your ass. The lingering sting from the impact was irritating, but pleasurable all at once. Your fists were gripping the edge of the mattress, holding on tightly as you bounced back and fourth between the two. “Such a good little whore,” Jake hissed, his grip in your hair tightening further. “God, you take it so well.”

“Feel so fucking good, baby.” Danny agreed, the praise from both sides almost too much to bear. Danny reached around your waist, bringing his fingers to your already sensitive clit. He traced circles as he fucked into you, holding you firmly with his other hand so you could keep your balance. The speed at which Jake was thrusting into your mouth was almost too much to keep up with, but the beautiful sounds that he was singing were all the motivation you needed to keep up with him. Tears were stinging your eyes, falling and making a mess on your cheeks. Every so often, the urge to gag was too strong to hold back, but you persevered mostly because of the pleasure you were receiving from your boyfriend. Your skin was tingling with the threat of another climax. The release you needed was urgent, but you had no way to express it to him. Instead, you let out a slur of muffled noises in hopes that he would recognize the message.

Thankfully, Danny knew you well enough to recognize any message you were trying to convey; he could read you like a book, even in his sleep. “Cum for us, baby.” He demanded, but he was pleading with you. He couldn’t keep up the pace much longer either. His own orgasm was close, too. Jake was on the same page, noticing the state of both of you and recognizing it was similar to his own.

“Cum all over his cock, angel. Show him how good it feels.” Jake joined in on the fun of encouraging you. They had stopped viewing the night as a competition, and rather as a team effort. His words settled in your stomach like iron, the weight too heavy to withstand. He slowed his hips slightly, respectful enough to let Danny take over for a moment. Danny noticed his withdrawal, taking the opportunity to pull you back on him. As he did so, Jake pulled out of you entirely, wanting to give you two the moment of intimacy. Now, with the freedom of your voice, you let out a cry of pleasure. The moan tore through your chest, coating the walls like an obscene decoration.

“Fuck, Danny.” You croaked, unable to find the energy for anything more than that. Within seconds, you descended into another orgasm. Your limbs were trembling, threatening to give out from underneath you. Danny held you up, making sure you knew you were secure as you rode out the high. When the intensity began to fade, he slowly withdrew from you. His chest was heaving, but less from lack of oxygen and more from his carnal need for you. He caught eyes with Jake, sharing a silent thank you for his kindness in letting you two share each other for a moment.

“His turn, baby.” He spoke lowly, now understanding that he would be more than selfish to deprive Jake of an experience like that. His fear was satiated, no more anxiety about losing you or being forgotten. He was aware that there was never a need for the worry to begin with, but your performance and enjoyment spoke louder than any verbal reassurance. Jake looked to Danny as if he granted him the opportunity of a lifetime. Before anyone moved, Danny quickly glanced towards the table by your bedside. He moved towards it, rummaging through the drawer before finding a condom. He flashed it towards Jake, who reached for it with no hesitation. You were all under the same knowledge that Danny called the shots, and you were both more than willing to comply.

Jake slipped on the condom, immediately taking to you to help you stand. With his assistance, you steadied yourself on your feet. He guided your chin upwards and brought you into a kiss. Your hands landed on him, holding him to you in hopes the moment would never have to end. Years worth of pent up frustration and desire was all fizzling away to a dramatic end. When you had imagined the lifetime of torment to be over, you never thought it would be in such a fantastic way. No guilt, nor shame. It was the best possible outcome for a normally grievous situation. He parted from you, but ultimately leaned in for one more kiss. The temptation was too hard to resist. Once he managed to will himself away from you, he took a seat on the edge of the bed.

Danny moved to join you both, standing in front of you in anticipation for the next move. Jake guided you backwards towards him, slowly bringing you down to meet him on the bed. He lined himself up with you and used a hand on your shoulder to pull you down on him. Immediately, he let out a sigh of satisfaction. He had no way to express his gratitude for being granted the opportunity to have you again, so he opted to show you, instead. He used his hands on your hips to set a pace, prompting you to eventually take over. “That’s it, angel.” His mouth was just next to your ear, his breath tickling your neck. “Waited so fucking long for this.” He purred, happy when you continued to grind your hips down on him. “Be good for him, sweetheart. Treat him the same way you did for me.” He ordered, placing a kiss to your shoulder. “He’s been so good to you, letting you be a little slut. Thank him for it.” He let his teeth sink into the same spot his lips were kissing you.

The position was much more gentle than the last, allowing you to recover from the roughness. You looked up to Danny, giving him a smile that was all but sexual. It was your way of saying I love you without having to speak it. Your eyes told him all he needed to know. Danny brought his hand to your face, wiping away any tears still littering your skin. He gave you the same smile, both of you caught in a wordless conversation that was dripping with affection. Jake slipped his one of his hands to your front, fingers settling on your clit. He traced slow circles, causing a whimper to fall from your lips. His other hand came up to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it like a snake going in for a kill. You gave Danny a few innocent bats of your eyelashes, inviting him in with vulgar intent. You opened your mouth as Jake’s grip on your neck tightened. Danny moved forward, and you bent down slightly to meet him.

Danny let you set the pace, understanding that as bad as he wanted you, there was a lot of stimulation on you. You brought him into your mouth as you moved your hips on Jake. You took him as far as you could, feeling him slide down your throat. The pressure from Jake’s hand made it all the more pleasurable for Danny, the already constrained space becoming all the more apparent. Danny let out a groan as you bobbed your head down on him, gradually increasing your speed as you worked. Jakes fingers were working tirelessly at your clit, his own moans filling the air as you came down on him. He had his forehead rested on your back, eyes screwed shut in pleasure as he attempted focus his attention to his hands.

Jake shifted slightly underneath you, allowing him to reach a little deeper into you as you gyrated your hips. The new sensation caused a moan to tear through you. The vibration caused a stutter in Danny’s slow movements, the sensation almost bringing him to an orgasm. All three of you were desperate for a release, but both boys were aching for relief. As much as they loved pleasuring you, they were dangerously close to the edge. Your head was swimming, swirling with lack of blood-flow, which only made the pleasure all the more intense. Jake could feel you tense against him, your walls constructing around him, the feeling sending him into a frenzy. He let out a raspy moan, the sound shooting through you as motivation. You had never once imagined Jake could sound so desperate, so needy for someone or something. To know that it was for you was one of the best feelings in the world. His fingers tightened around your neck once more, the blood supply cut off completely. Danny took it upon himself to pick up his own pace, a slur of curses falling from his mouth at the tightness of your throat.

Without warning, another orgasm took hold, seizing every inch of your body. You wanted to cry out, to scream in response to the overwhelming amount of pleasure, but it was as if your brain short circuited. You couldn’t focus on a single thought; you were completely lost within both of them. Jake let out a growl, finding it near impossible to stop himself from orgasming at the sight of the state you were in. He held on just long enough for you to regain your mind, and he loosened his hold on your neck. Danny pulled back, also dangerously close to cumming. The two boys looked at each other, sharing one single coherent thought. They had no idea how they were going to end the night, and they weren’t sure if they even wanted to.

“What do you want, angel?” Jake said, holding your hips so you wouldn’t continue your movements. “How do you want us to finish?” Danny was appreciative that Jake asked, because they both knew it was in their best interest for you to decide. You lifted your head, a mess of spit decorating your chin and more tears prickling your eyes. You looked exhausted, barely able to hold yourself up, but you knew you wanted them to finish, and you knew exactly how to do it.

“I want…” you trailed off, taking a long inhale to slow the spinning in your head. “I want you both.” The boys shared a look, wide eyed and in shock at the idea.

“B-both of us?” Danny stuttered, unsure if he heard you right. “Like, to fuck you?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, unable to speak from the sheer excitement of the thought.

“Are you sure, trouble?” Jake’s comment proved that he had been yanked out of the cloud of sex, his rationality returning to him momentarily. “Don’t do it just because you think that’s what we want.”

“Im sure,” you nodded “that’s what I want.” A rush of excitement ran through both of them as they glanced at each other. Danny immediately went back to the night table, grabbing a bottle of lube from the drawer. With a small smirk on his lips, he tossed it to Jake.

“You heard her.” He said, knowing that you would never suggest it if you weren’t comfortable.

“Has she… I mean, have you?” Jake asked, still processing the request. Danny gave him a nod, answering any questions that he had with one swift motion. As if he wasn’t shocked enough, the thought settled in his bones like lead. After a few seconds, a smirk began to grow on his lips, too. “Kinky little thing,” he noted “sounds like I really missed out.” Danny’s apprehension of Jake’s smart comments had completely disappeared. This time, he found his words almost comedic. Jake helped you to your feet once more, immediately prompting you into Danny’s arms. “Guess we have to give the lady what she wants.”

Danny leaned down, placing a kiss to your lips. As he did so, he placed his hands on the back of your thighs and scooped you up as he straightened his back. You instinctively wrapped your legs around him, holding on to his arms for support. Jake moved closer, his chest pressing against your back. You leaned into him, accepting his presence with warm welcome. “I’m going to go slow, okay? Tell me if you’re uncomfortable.” He explained. You gave a nod, already aware of the process. After four years, you and Danny had grown quite experimental in the bedroom. The only shock was that it was somebody other than him doing it. Jake placed a few kisses to your exposed neck, starting his exploration with his hand. He started with his finger, slow and cautious in fear of making you uncomfortable. The feeling was new, something you didn’t experience all that often, but it was enjoyable. You let out a whimper, closing your eyes and eager for him to continue. Jake locked eyes with Danny, both sharing a silent agreement of comfortability.

With Jake’s support, Danny slipped his arms under your thighs as you leaned back into Jake. When Jake felt you were comfortable enough, he moved his hand to allow himself access to you. Danny used one hand to line himself up with your cunt, and Jake did the same with your ass. “Ready, baby?” Danny asked.

“Yeah,” you sighed. Danny moved first, slowly pushing inside of you. Jake was more hesitant, but gently brought his hips forward. When he didn’t hear a single utter of discomfort, he continued. When both boys were inside of you, you let out a sigh of relief at the feeling of fullness.

“This is what you wanted, angel?” Jake murmured, already victim to the pleasure. “You just wanted to be a whore for us? Let us have you however we wanted?”

“Yeah.” You gasped, pivoting your body slightly to wrap an arm around Jakes neck. Your other hand was holding Danny’s shoulder, keeping yourself anchored in place as they began to move.

“Is it everything you dreamed of, baby?” Danny asked, matching his movements with Jake’s. They weren’t moving fast, but they were pulling you down on them as they moved, increasing the pressure building in your belly.

“God, yes.” Your head fell back, lost in the feeling of both of them inside you.

“It feels so good, doesn’t it?” Jake growled, his fingers digging into your hips. “Tell us how good it feels.”

“S-so good.” You whined, squeezing your eyes shut. The feeling was transcendent, more powerful than anything you had ever experienced. “It feels so fucking good.” You couldn’t contain your moans any longer, every sound that was begging to come out did just that, painting the room with sin. It was pornographic, the scene absolutely vulgar, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. The obscenity was fantastic, and you never wanted to leave the moment. If you could, you would have stayed there and fucked them for the rest of your life, just like that.

Both of the boys had been teetering the line of their own orgasms for the entire night. They had no idea they would enjoy the evening as much as they did, and they too were dreading the inevitable end. As much as they wanted to climax, they weren’t willing to do so without one last orgasm from you. “Can you give us one more, sweetheart?” Jake hissed, picking up his pace. Danny followed suit, using his strength to pull you down on them.

“You can do it, baby. I know you can.” Danny encouraged you, hopeful that you could do as they were asking. Most of it was due to his need for you to be fulfilled, but some of it was because he was scared he couldn’t hold himself back any more. “You’ve been so good for us, just keep it up for a little bit longer.”

“So proud of you, angel. Doing such a good job. Taking it so fucking good.” The combined praise was exhilarating; you had never felt so appreciated by anyone in your entire life. “One more, beautiful. I know you have it in you.” Jake pleaded.

“Fuck!” You exploded, the word followed by a guttural scream of pleasure. You couldn’t bite back the sound; it tore through you with a ferocity you had never felt before. “I’m gonna,” you assured them, a long jumble of curses flowing from your mouth, following the statement. Jakes hands were burning into you, Danny’s grip on your thighs tightening even more. They aimed to keep their movements synchronized, not wanting to jeopardize your ability to climax. The muscles in your abdomen tensed, your grip on them growing stronger as the burning in your belly reached its peak. You let out a shriek of euphoria, every nerve in your body ablaze with the relentless pleasure. You felt like you were ascending to another dimension, completely unaware of anything other than the feeling of them inside you. Your body was exhausted, and your mind was, too. You were completely fucked out, and they knew that. Before you came down, they both let go, too.

The room was filled with filthy sounds, swearing and slurs of names. The climax was intense for everyone, nobody could comprehend the emotion of the high. You all floated back to reality together, sleep calling to you before the bliss even came to an end. Euphoric was not a strong enough word to describe the feeling lingering throughout your body. After a moment of rest, both boys carefully withdrew from you. You all shuffled to the bed, Danny laying you in the nest of pillows and blankets, his body radiating with an air of love. They shared a look, scared that they might have pushed you too far, but after a moment, a smile began to creep on to your lips.

“How was that, angel?” Jake asked, hand resting on your thigh as a loving decoration.

“It was… phenomenal.” You breathed, finally able to sort your thoughts. “Just… yeah. Phenomenal.” You reiterated your point. They both let out a chuckle, happy that you were content and feeling the same way. “So, did you guys just decide this at the bar? Friendly talk over a few beers?” Their light chuckles turned into full laughter at your question.

“Think the thought was bouncing around for a while. Time was finally right.” Danny said, collapsing beside you.

“Saw that look in your eye when I brought it up, earlier. Couldn’t really resist that.” Jake added, thumb brushing over the skin that was littered with finger shaped bruises.

“I don’t mean to sound greedy… but was that a one time thing, or…?” You trailed off, finally opening your eyes to look between the two. Jake looked to Danny, knowing that he had the ultimate say in the matter. After a moment of silence, Danny gave a shrug.

“Suppose we could try it again, sometime.” He smirked. “If it would make you happy. You know I’d do anything to make you happy.”

“I wouldn’t mind that.” You confessed, a smile breaking out on your lips. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Jake said, adding a touch of humour to what would normally be an awkward moment. The aftermath should have been dripping with an uncomfortable nature, but it seemed perfectly right. There was no discomfort present at all. You rested your hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze. You reached your other one out to Danny, lacing your fingers together.

“I do think it’s bedtime, though.” You stated, feeling a yawn start to surface.

“Right, we did interrupt, didn’t we?” Danny asked.

“Glad you did.” You hummed.

“So, what now? Do I get to sleep in bed, too?” Jake joked.

“Not a chance.” Danny shook his head, paired with a laugh. “Sorry, man.”

“Have some hospitality,” Jake feigned offence, but his smile told the joke for him. “Couch?”

“Definitely.” You and Danny mumbled, already feeling sleep settle in your bones.

“Understood.” He stood, giving your leg a gentle squeeze. “Hope you’re not too sore in the morning, trouble.” He said before gathering his clothes and disappearing into the hallway. Once he was out of sight, Danny pulled you into his arms.

“I love you,” he mumbled.

“I love you.” You said, relaxing into his hold and resting your head on his chest. “More than anything.” You placed a gentle kiss to his chest. “Thank you, baby. I don’t even know how to tell you how fantastic you are.”

“Like I said, bug. Anything to make you happy.” And he meant it; if allowing you access to Jake every now and again meant that he could keep you happy and have you forever, he would. It was something he could learn to live with, because he knew deep down that Jake was just a guilty pleasure, and he was the love of your life.