starsbies

[starsbies]

Lead Us Not Into Temptation

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: NON-CON, mentions of prostitution, mentions of infidelity

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies 

summary: turning your life around is easier said than done when you tempt the very man meant to lead you to salvation.

♱

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned…”

The familiar words tumbled from your lips, and your gaze remained on your lap, eyes following your finger as you traced patterns into the solid black skirt on your frame. It kissed your ankle as you shifted your feet, and the reminder of the long fabric had you swallowing down less than gentle thoughts. You slowly reached up to touch the collar of your shirt, eyes briefly falling closed as you cleared your throat.

You’d spent hours agonizing over how you’d leave the house…

“It has been seven days since my last confession. These are my sins.”

Like clockwork, you listed the time you cursed for some accident or another and the time you took the Lord’s name in vain and the brief impure thought about that attractive man you’d seen in the grocery store. Every week, it was the same. Sins that you yourself would never have considered as such months ago that you were now hyper aware of. They climbed out of your throat seamlessly, remembering every single one until only one was left.

The silence between you and the man just on the other side of that wall stretched—a familiar occurrence—and you took your lip between your teeth. You could taste blood as you worried it, swallowing it down before clearing your throat again. You smoothed your hand over your skirt, and you furiously blinked, struggling to blink away the tears that had started to collect. As you sat in silence, you wondered why you were trying so hard to impress people that had already written you off?

“I’ve had…some hateful thoughts as well.”

You struggled to get the words out, always struck by just how emotional this made you. You looked up towards the ceiling, eyes roaming, and you hadn’t even realized that your breathing had started to pick up until he spoke.

Father Mayhew.

“Take your time,” he gently encouraged. “Speak when you are ready.”

It wasn’t the first time you’d heard those words, recalling your first ever confessional and how you’d cried. It was as embarrassing now as it was then, but it was necessary. You were determined to live differently now—to be different, now.

“Although I have abandoned my former life and…occupation…” you thought you heard him shift. “...I feel as if I will never truly be forgiven for it.”

You swiped your tongue between your lips.

“...will never be accepted.”

You recalled the eyes that often found their way to you during mass—the judgment, the disdain, the way in which some stared at you as if they didn’t know how to place you. 

Every sunday it was the same. You’d wake up and agonize over how to present yourself in a place as holy as this. You’d fret that this skirt was too short and that dress was too tight. You’d fiddle with your hair for far too long and every lipstick you wiped off would stain your lips a little more than the last. You were constantly at a crossroad, torn between wanting to look nice for church and concerned about looking like…well…a whore.

You struggled to swallow.

“I see the way they look at me,” you eventually whispered, staring at nothing. “I can’t hear what they whisper, but I know it’s about me.”

You touched your throat, hating how tight it felt.

“It’s…discouraging.”

You didn’t want to use that word, but it was the only word that was appropriate. It made you sad, and you often wondered why you kept returning to a place that made you sad. Surely a church wasn’t necessary to ‘find God’...right? You didn’t think so, but you had wanted to start somewhere, and considering that none of your friends even owned a bible, they had been of no help. Stepping foot into a place that had only ever served to be ominous and oppressive in your eyes was the most terrifying thing you’d ever done.

…but then you had laid eyes on Father Mayhew.

He’d been the only one in the church at the time, and you would never forget the curious glint in his dark gaze. You’d had no doubt that he could see you were scared and unsure and in an environment you were wholly unused to. You’d appreciated the gentle way in which he talked to you, guiding you towards a pew in the front as you asked him questions that some people had answers to their entire lives. He hadn’t treated you like you were stupid, but more importantly, he hadn’t treated you like you didn’t belong.

You were willing to bet that he hadn’t even known about you then.

Although, months later, you were willing to bet that he did now…even though you’d never told him.

“Humans are flawed,” his smooth voice reached your ears through the wall. “We all fall short—even the most devout of us—and we find ourselves falling prey to the temptation of judgment…pride…lust…”

You intently listened. After all, he’d never said these words to you before, always giving you some speech about God’s love trumping all.

“I have no doubt that it is trying, but I am sure you will come to give them grace for their sins just as they will give you grace for yours. We are all God’s children striving to lead a life in his image…”

His voice lowered at that, and you frowned slightly, looking towards the wall and thinking to yourself that he almost seemed to be talking to himself now.

“He wants his children to love one another, a feat that is not without difficulty I’m sure you know…” that actually made you hold back a chuckle. “...but God’s love is powerful and he always grants forgiveness to those who genuinely yearn and ask for it.”

At that, you did smile.

You told him that you were truly sorry for your sins, and he told you to say ten Hail Mary’s, and you stepped out of the confessional feeling better than you did thirty minutes ago. You didn’t know how long the feeling would last though, and so you wanted to hold onto it for as long as you could, but you knew from experience that was easier said than done.

You touched the crucifix around your neck as you stepped out of your building.

It had once belonged to your mother, and despite how long she’d been gone and how down on your luck you’d been ever since, you could never quite find it in you to pawn it. It was real gold—probably the only real piece of jewelry you ever owned—but you just couldn’t do it, and you supposed that you were never meant to. Despite the many years you’d lived life as the complete opposite of a God fearing woman…it felt right sitting just below your collarbone.

Even if many would not agree.

You were no stranger to several men in this town—and the ones who often passed through on their truck routes—but that had not stopped you from seeking solace and guidance from a place you’d never stepped foot into in your life. You couldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel…strange to be in the same building as some of the men you’d serviced before, their wives and children at their side as they furiously avoided making eye contact with you. It felt even worse to watch the way the women would congregate together after church, excluding you all the while talking about you.

It felt somewhat pathetic for your only ally in the place to be the priest.

Although you sometimes wondered how true that was these days. You’d never once confessed that you used to be a prostitute—although the kids called it sex work these days—but you weren’t stupid. As godly and devout as they claimed to be, you knew that the church was filled with gossip and there was no telling who’d let it slip to the dark haired man. You knew when he knew though…

…because he looked at you different.

It wasn’t a bad different—thank God for that—but just…different, and while it wasn’t necessarily bad, you still didn’t think you liked it. Confession—being anonymous—never allowed for you to tell him your name, and considering you’d only ever spoken to him once outside of confession months ago, you didn’t know if he ever knew it was you he was talking to. You didn’t know if he knew that the woman he spoke so gently with each week and listened to cry on the other side of some window was the same woman who often shrunk under his heavy gaze as he looked down on his congregation.

You never felt like he was judging you, no, but you also never felt like he was looking at you as he did that first day, a gentle curiosity in his eyes. He wasn’t your friend—far from it in fact—but he felt like the closest thing you had to one in this church, and so you often forced yourself to find excuses for it. He watches you because he wants to make sure you’re settling in okay. He watches you to observe how other members of the church are treating you. He watches you because he’s wondering if you’ll ever come to confession, convincing yourself that he’s never recognized your voice all this time.

That is why he watches you, you told yourself.

No other reason. 

“You always come to pray at least three times a week…”

The familiar voice startled you as you stood, hand lowering as you’d just finished signing the cross. Your hand was still on your chest as you turned to face him, a small smile on your lips as he stood directly in the center of the aisle. You hadn’t even heard him make a single sound, and you wondered how long he’d been standing there.

He slowly returned your smile with one of his own, although it was smaller, and the silent way in which he stared at you reminded you that he’d said something to you. 

“Yes,” you finally said, moving away from the altar. “It helps with…um…really everything.”

He blinked at you, and you noticed that a strand of his hair was threatening to go rogue. He always looked so neat and perfect that it was hard to miss. Father Mayhew was handsome—if anyone had seen enough men to know it was you—but he was handsome in a way that you would categorize as flawless. Divine even. In a way that was untouchable and only meant to be admired in the most innocent of appreciation. 

He slowly nodded at your response, and you didn’t miss the way he studied you—dark eyes drinking you in and taking note of every stylistic choice you’d made today.

“You know, I think I might see your face far more than those who have been coming here for years,” he lightly told you, a slight laugh on his lips.

You laughed with him, only offering him a shrug.

“I’m still new. I’m sure it just seems that way because you aren’t used to seeing me.”

He started to shake his head before you could even finish talking, and you watched him move closer.

“No,” he murmured—so low you almost didn't hear him. “I think you are perhaps my most…devout congregant.”

He touched your crucifix as he said this, dark eyes tracing the shape of it, and he was so close that you could smell his cologne. You blinked at the scent, finding it strange to know that he wore cologne. It shouldn’t be strange, you supposed, but you realized then that you didn’t quite view priests—view him—as human. As normal…

His eyes lifted then to finally connect with yours, and a crooked smile danced along his pink lips.

“It’s admirable,” he whispered. “More of my congregation could stand to follow your lead.”

You couldn’t ignore the way your chest bloomed at those words, almost hating how much validation you wanted from this place. Validation that you were a good person…you weren’t who you used to be…that you were worthy of something more, you didn’t know. It just felt relieving to hear such a compliment from Father Mayhew when no one else in the church would even give you a chance.

“Thank you, Father,” you quietly replied to him. “That means a lot to me.”

You watched him slowly inhale as he dropped his hand, and he seemed even slower to step out of your way. When you walked past him, you could feel his gaze on you—always watching—and you smiled when he called out to you, telling you that he looked forward to seeing you on Sunday.

No one was more sad than you when you had to disappoint him.

An unexpected cold had you bedridden for days, and while you knew that an illness was a perfectly valid excuse to miss church, you couldn’t swallow down the disappointment. You hadn’t missed a single Sunday since you first started going, and you thought to yourself that the first thing you’d do when you returned was explain your absence to Father Mayhew.

You had never anticipated him showing up at your door to get it himself.

No one ever knocked on your door these days, so the sound had taken you by surprise. Your friends—while supportive of the direction your life had taken—didn’t quite understand it and so you didn’t see them as often, and as for anyone else… Well, there wasn’t anyone else who would come knocking on your door. You didn’t do that anymore so no customers were going to be greeting you on the other side with their money in their hand and an eager grin on their lips, and you doubted any of the women in town would want to sit down for a chat anytime soon.

Your shock at Father Mayhew’s presence was all over your face.

“Father,” you stated, the lilt in your voice hinting at your surprise.

He looked just as you were used to seeing him—clerical collar still on, not a hair out of place, and a hint of a smile on those pink lips. You stood there gaping at him for all of five seconds before it struck you how rude you were probably being.

“I…I’m so sorry. Um…come in,” you told him, stepping out of the way and widening the gap in the doorway.

He didn’t respond nor move right away, looking past you into your small house with a look in his gaze that you couldn’t name. If he were anyone else, you might worry that he was judging where you lived. You watched his jaw briefly tighten, a noticeable strain in his face, and it only just occurred to you that maybe this wasn’t appropriate? Although you were positive you’d heard of priests and pastors visiting the sick before, and while you certainly weren’t on your deathbed, you didn’t see why this would be different.

Before you could say another word though, his foot crossed the threshold, and you closed the door behind him.

“I do apologize for the unexpected visit,” he said to you, gazing around before his eyes landed on you again. “...but when I noticed that mass was absent of a face I’d grown to look forward to, I became concerned.”

You couldn’t stop your smile at his words

“Oh,” you softly said. “Well, there’s no need to be concerned. It’s just a small cold that will be gone in a day or two.”

You watched him exhale at that, nodding to himself, and you studied him, surprised to see that he looked genuinely relieved at that.

“I’m glad to hear that’s all it is…”

At that, your brows furrowed, and you watched him slowly walk about your living room.

“I had feared that some of your fellow church goers had scared you off.”

Your lips parted at his words, and he turned and looked at you.

“They often fall into the temptation of judgment, after all…”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you didn’t know how to react with the knowledge that he knew it was you who came to see him once a week. You’d only spoken to him face to face twice, and you swallowed, looking away.

“I thought it would be a shame if they scared you off,” he confessed, and you noted that he was closer now. “I wondered what I would have to do to convince you to come back. Drag you, perhaps.”

You gave a soft laugh at that, although he didn’t join you, and it awkwardly faded. He stared at you in silence for what felt like a long time, and just when you were considering asking him if he wanted anything to drink, he reached out to touch the crucifix around your neck again.

“So devout,” he quietly said to himself. “It almost makes me ashamed…”

At that, you gave a heavy laugh, wondering how you could ever shame a priest.

“Why?”

“...because I see why they flocked to your door…money in hand.”

His gaze lifted as he said that, and you were still as you both just stared at each other. His words made you blink, and you were suddenly very aware of his hand practically on you. You couldn’t stop the slight frown that fell over your face, and for the first time in months—since you first stepped foot into that church—you felt…wrong.

“I see why their eyes trace every inch of you when you’re not looking…as if to relive the memory of what you felt like—tasted like.”

You finally took a step back, hand coming up to cover your necklace as if protecting it from his touch.

“What memories they must have of you…”

You wrapped your other arm around yourself, mind whirling to reconcile the man before you with the same man who’d always been so welcoming and gentle. Not once did you ever think he judged you for your past, and you supposed that you were right, but not once did you ever think he also might…

You hadn’t done that in over a year, but had it really escaped you so quickly that a seemingly devout man was still…a man?

“Father, I think you should-.”

“I don’t say any of this to offend you,” he interrupted, tilting his head. “I say it because I fight the urge to touch you every time you’re in my presence.”

You moved by him to make your way to the door, but like an ever present shadow you only just noticed, he was close behind.

“You can cover up as much as you’d like—wear skirts down to your ankle and shirts up to your chin…” his hand on the door halted your movements. 

You felt his chest just barely grazing your back, and his lips followed suit, the softness of them brushing against your ear as he spoke. That familiar cologne invaded your senses.

“...but none of it can hide the temptation you pose by merely existing.”

You shrunk away from him at that, tears in your eyes as he verbalized the same fears you had every time you walked into the building. You flinched when his lips touched the back of your neck, heart dropping to your stomach, but you reached for the door handle anyway.

“Father, I’d like you to leave-.”

Your words were cut off by your own sharp scream, taken aback by the feel of his fingers harshly pressing into the skin of your throat. His hand rested on the back of your neck, and you pressed your hand to the door when his lips grazed your cheek.

“They’re all like rabid dogs…just waiting to pounce,” he mused against your skin, sliding between you and the door and forcing you further into your house with every step. “Just waiting for you to give up this charade and go back to taking their money for a quick fuck.”

You blinked, and a few tears escaped.

“...but they don’t know you like I know you.”

He grinned against your cheek, and you winced as he lightly nipped at the skin there.

“They don’t know that you come to church at least thrice a week to light candles and pray…”

You were full on sobbing now, and you could feel the cool metal of his ring against the back of your neck.

“They don’t know that you never miss your weekly confession, telling me every time you so much as say the Lord’s name in vain.”

His free hand was reaching for the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one by one, and you gasped when his fingers finally met skin. He dipped his head, mouth finding the skin of your shoulder and collarbone interesting before his hand searched for your wrist.

“They don’t know that you are the most pious woman to walk through those doors,” he purred, pressing gentle kisses to the inside of your wrist. “...and that I just want to ruin you for it.”

When his hand dipped between your legs, you were quick to try and stop him, still wincing at the tight grip on the back of your neck. Father Mayhew made a noise of disapproval, and your hand faltered when he harshly bit your shoulder.

“We are…and always will be…sinners…”

Once his fingers were inside of you, it was like the point of no return. You found it funny that he likened the men in church to that of rabid dogs when he himself was behaving like the very thing he used to insult them. When your knees buckled, he followed—one arm around you and holding you in place while the fingers on his other hand curved into you.

Every thrust of his fingers made you wetter—embarrassingly so—and when he pulled your head back, he forced a kiss onto your lips. He swallowed down your whimpers and noises of protest, a moan escaping him as he tasted the inside of your mouth. With him so close to you, you could feel the muscles and contours of his frame beneath his clothes, and you were forced to recognize your predicament and his strength and what that meant for you.

When you were face to face with him again, his hair was nowhere near as neat as it was when he first walked through your door. His pink lips were swollen and reddened from kissing you and dragging over your skin. Your pajama top had long been discarded, the bottoms long ripped and pulled off of you. Father Mayhew’s—Charlie—clerical collar was long gone, his shirt pulled open and hanging off of him.

You recalled the way your mouth had parted into an ‘O’ shape when the head of his cock finally dipped into you, stretching you with every inch and making your heart momentarily stop. His hand covered a breast, the feel of his ring cooling that singular part of your skin, the rest of you so overheated. His other hand was wrapped around your throat, and you clawed at his hand as he fucked you.

The sound of skin slapping against skin was loud in your tiny home, the only sound to rival it being his harsh grunts and your strained voice. Any fight that you’d put up had been quickly squashed down, shown in the harshest manner just how strong your priest was. You hated how good it felt, hated that you didn’t want this but was now forced to enjoy it. Nevermind the fact that you hadn’t enjoyed sex for the act itself in years…

…but of all people to find yourself in this predicament with.

Father Mayhew’s hands never stayed in one place for long. He seemed determined to touch every part of you he could get his hands on, lips tasting the saltiness of your skin. Sweat clung to your frame and his, his fingers sliding over you as he kneaded your thighs and your waist and your chest. Every time you reminded yourself how wrong this was, he’d push his cock into you to the hilt, and you’d involuntarily throw your head back.

You could feel your crucifix pressing into your skin, and your eyes watered.

“I must admit that I was—am—jealous,” he dragged out, voice hoarse and throaty and wholly unlike how you were used to hearing him. “Your devotion to God inspires an envy within me that I never knew existed.”

You took note of the scars on his back underneath your fingers.

“...a desire to have you completely devoted to me,” he bit out, covering your lips with his own. “You so desperately desire forgiveness and acceptance…and all the things you didn’t think you were worthy of having.”

He harshly thrust into you, making you gasp.

“...and I can give that to you,” he whispered into the kiss.

The power behind his thrusts had you scratching at both his back and the floor, eyes squeezing shut at the way his fingers dug into your skin. It was like he was both holding you to him and trying to prevent you from ever walking away. Your chest arched up into his as you gasped, choked whimpers climbing out of your throat with every push of his hips. He growled against your skin as his lips traveled to your neck, the sound almost demonic to your ears.

When you came around him—your first orgasm in over a year—you couldn’t swallow down the noise it forced out of you. You could feel blood beneath your nails and a slickness on the inside of your thighs, but all the while Father Mayhew didn’t stop.

With one hand pressed against the floor, he pushed himself up to look down at you. His free hand slid up your sweaty frame, coming up to wrap around the crucifix that rested against your skin. He tightened his hold around it, and he pulled on it, forcing you to lift your head and meet him halfway for a kiss.

“I want you just as eager to get on your knees for me…”

[starsbies]

Here Comes Trouble

an: chapter one to my lover of mine series! i'll add the tag list in the comments.

A few weeks after the year anniversary of your coronation as the princess of Sendon, things are finally starting to feel real. Unfortunately for you, an afternoon of eavesdropping proves to be much messier than you thought

warnings: angst, food and drink mentions, reader wears dresses and makeup, royal AU and attitudes, misogynic behavior, swearing, tension

wc: 3.1k

Late spring meant for a lot of changes. New fabrics and decorations around the palace, new floral arrangements brought in at the start of each week, as well as many festivals and fundraisers to be planned. Aside from the smaller details, there were a lot of changes to your schedule as well.

Since becoming princess of Sendon, you've gained more responsibilities. Instead of sitting in on meetings, you've been asked to lead them. Appearances were no longer few and far between; your schedule is packed with them, constantly being arranged to fit just a few more. The newfound trust has been exciting, but tiring nonetheless. Thankfully your Grandmother, the Queen, has been extremely kind and involved in this strange transition.

You're grateful of course, as this has never been in your plans.

One year and a few short weeks ago, you stood front and center in the palace cathedral as the country cheered your name and you accepted your new role. Having a very mundane upbringing in the suburbs, graduating from public school and then college, you had never in million years thought you would receive this sort of news. Sure, you had read in books and heard bizarre stories about people across the world suddenly becoming famous, but they always seemed as if they would be just that; stories.

But now, as you sip your tea from the kitchen counter of the palace kitchen, those stories are very much your reality.

"Remember, you have a meeting with the queen right before lunch today," your secretary Utahime reminds you as she quickly walks into the kitchen, dropping off what you assume is a menu to the chef with a smile.

"I remember," you nod, slipping off of the marble to place your dishes near the sink. "Her office?"

Utahime nods, eyes skimming the calendar in her arms. "Maki and Mai have some outfit options in your room."

You hum. One of the best parts of your new role.

"Alright," you sigh. The clock over your very diligent secretary's shoulder reads about 10:00 AM. "I'll be there." She only nods in response once more, quickly shuffling out the door with a small wave.

You thank the kitchen staff with a smile before making your way upstairs. It's Monday morning, meaning your Grandmother is in and out of meetings with different departments, so you feel a little special that she has made time for you in your busy schedule.

The marble staircase in the middle of the palace is empty, save for a couple men who work to dust it. Come to think of it, you've seen more people than usual around this morning.

"Princess,"

"Maki, Mai, how are you two today?"

Maki comes around the corner from your bathroom and into your room. "Annoyed, and you?"

You snort. "Intrigued. What happened?"

Mai grabs three garment bags from their resting spot on your bed and hangs them from rolling wardrobe in the middle of your room. You lean against the mattress as the two girls work to unzip the bags.

"The Queen's assistants sent these up this morning," Mai grunts as she struggles with the zipper of one of the outfits. "and they have got to be the worst ones yet."

Each outfit is the exact same, just different colors. An A-line dress, just below the knee, with a matching coat, as well as a pair of plain white heels. At least you have the option between pale pink, blue, or yellow.

"They're not that bad," you stand up, feeling the fabric between your fingers. Most of the outfits you are provided are simple and clean: Princess Attire as your Grandmother calls it. "Blue is fine for today."

Maki and Mai share a glance, knowing you would pick that one. Mai trots off to your closet with the dress and shoes, while Maki zips up the remaining outfits.

"What are you meeting with the Queen about today?"

You follow Mai into the closet, grabbing a simple linen dress from the small section of clothes that actually belong to you. Slipping off your pajamas, you shrug.

"I actually have no clue. Normally, she fills me in but it's anyone's guess this time," the linen hits just above your knees, perfect for the sudden heat wave the kingdom is experiencing. Maki appears behind you suddenly, placing a pair of socks and shoes next to you. One thing the Queen has not been able to change, much to her dismay, is the way you dress in your free time.

"Thanks," Maki nods before grabbing the laundry. "Have you two heard anything?"

Your very loyal chambermaids share a look, before going back to what they were doing.

"So you have,"

"No!" They say in unison. Mai coughs.

"Well-"

"Mai."

Your eyebrows scrunch together while you do your hair quickly. The two rarely keep secrets from you, which means this must be something big.

"Please!" You exit the closet to find the two girls whispering to each other before jumping back to look at you. "C'mon, just tell me."

They stare at you with empathetic looks on their faces. You let out a defeated sigh before heading out the door.

"Fine, fine. I'll find out soon enough I suppose. I'll see you two in a bit," you wave and walk out the door, wracking your brain as to what today could be about. Your Grandmother is very close to you, sharing almost everything that goes on in the meetings you aren't invited to. She hasn't said a word though, which makes you anxious.

You decide to spend your free morning in the garden, checking on the different flowers the gardeners so kindly planted at your request. Right before you make it to the entrance of the garden, you hear the muffled voices of men from an open window. Shuffling over as quiet as you can, you crouch beneath the window and listen.

"It is possible, and it will have to be possible. She will not be without a spouse. She will be more respected that way." A few hums of agreement follow.

"That rule is old, and with all due respect Sir, that's why we haven't practiced it in what, 50 years? At least?" The voice of your Grandma comes through the window. She seems irritated, to say the least. The other voice wasn't as familiar.

"Your Highness, it's still in the law. And you of all people must know that we can't change it." That voice is much more familiar. Someone in parliament maybe?

"But, I don't think it's necessary. Shouldn't I of all people have the option to change that?"

A silence falls over the room, before someone clears their throat.

"I'm afraid you can't. Section three of the law states-"

"Okay, fine," the Queen walks over to the window. The way it creaks above your head, she must be leaning against the windowsill. You hold your breath, realizing your position for a moment. "Then she must wed."

Who's "she"?

"I say we give her a week."

"A week?" Your Grandmother shrieks, pushing off of the windowsill. Her heels click against the floor. "Absolutely not. Six months at lea-"

"Two months!"

"Ninety days!"

Arguments fill the air until a gavel strikes three times.

"Your Majesty," an elderly man speaks. "The law states that she will have thirty days. If she doesn't find someone in one month," his voice trails off. "She cannot be a princess anymore."

Your stomach sinks and your heart launches up into your throat. Your head spins and you feel sick. There's no way that-

"Then it will be done. I will bring this up to her today. We're meeting in an hour."

Your hands slam against the brick behind you and you start running. You rush through the gardens as fast as your legs will carry you, chest heaving. You could scream. You round the gates and slip through one of the side entrances and into the castle, dress in your fists as you hustle up the stairs.

"What the fuck," you slam your door, entering your chambers with labored breaths. You could scream. The sharp sound of your name fills the room.

"We don't have a lot of time, shower off quickly please," Utahime gives you a pointed look before rushing into your closet. You kick your shoes off at the entrance, throw your dress off and walk into the shower. It takes everything inside of you to not sink to the floor.

"You knew you had-"

"Not now Utahime, I really can't handle any lecturing," you flick the shower off and grab the towel that Mai holds for you outside of the shower walls. She gives you a sad, but understanding look.

"What happened?"

Your secretary can come off as quite severe, but she really is a sister to you. Only a couple years apart from each other meant you had a lot in common.

You huff as you dress quickly, forgoing the matching coat at the moment. As soon as the dress is zipped up, you plop into the vanity chair.

"While I was in the garden, I heard some talking going on from one of the meeting room windows. I stopped to listen and-"

Utahime cuts you off with a sigh. She sits down on the loveseat in the middle of your closet and glances over at you.

"You heard?"

You nod. Nobara comes in quickly, giving you a polite smile before beginning to brush your hair. She gives a glance to Maki and Mai who sit next to Utahime in a couple of chairs.

"God, you knew too? Why does everyone know me getting married before I do?"

Nobara shakes her head, grabbing a few things from the vanity before continuing with your hair. You groan. The entire time you've been a princess, your wishes have been respected. You've never been forced to an event you don't want to go to, you've always had the choice on your schedule for the day. This is new, and unwelcome.

You look at yourself in the mirror and frown. Being a wife was not something that was on your to-do list, and you are not looking forward to finding a husband.

"I'm sorry, I wish I could have told you. I didn't think you would find out this way." Utahime brings you your phone, and you shrug.

"Not your fault. I feel sick," you put your head in your hands. "I bet they have someone lined up for me. Some old royal from who knows where," you close your eyes as Nobara moves on to your makeup, working quickly as you don't have a lot of time. Maki hums in agreement.

The minutes pass in silence, only the sounds of Nobara's quick hands and your chambermaids picking things up fill the room. By the time you're ready to go, you are at a loss. Emotionally and verbally. You look in the mirror one last time. Nobara did a light makeup look and a simple low bun. You thank her before slipping on your heels and heading out the door.

"Good luck," Mai sighs as she leans against one of your bedposts. Maki stands by her side with an apologetic smile.

"Thanks you two. Hopefully, I'll see the two of you at lunch?"

They nod as you and Utahime begin your walk to the Queen's office. You don't say anything at first, and either does she, until her phone chimes.

"The Queen is running late," she mumbles, typing a response while the two of you go down the stairs. "She said she will be there in about thirty minutes and sends her apologies." You roll your eyes.

"I'm going to the garden," Utahime raises her eyebrows. "I'll be on time, I promise. I just need some air." She nods and you walk down the hallway and out the side door. As soon as you walk into the garden, you feel like you can breathe again. Your mind is racing, thoughts of what on earth your Grandma is thinking, mixed with anger at every stupid male in parliament stir in your brain. As you turn to follow the path to the fountain, you run into something.

Or, someone.

"Oh! I'm so sorry,"

"Princess! My apologies, I am so sorry. I should have been looking where I was going."

Before you is a man, much taller than you, with hair white as snow. He's wearing navy slacks, a white button-up, and expensive-looking tan leather shoes. His eyes are wide, and you are sure you've never seen eyes so blue. He's fit, looks about your age, and he's gorgeous. Not only that, but you've never seen him before.

"I'm fine, are you okay? No need to apologize!" You wave him off and smile. He lets out a sigh of relief and gives you a smile of his own. You almost swoon, and you would have if a royal gardener in the corner of your eye wasn't there to remind you of your situation.

"How rude of me. My name's Satoru. I am so honored to meet you, Princess," he bows, grabbing your hand in his before mumbling your name in a sweet voice. He places a kiss to the back of your hand and you nod. You're buzzing, but the months of practice your Grandmother put you through a year ago have you trained to not show it.

Almost.

"S-Satoru! It's nice to meet you. I don't think I've seen you before," your head tilts, and he smirks.

"No, I don't think we've ever met. I'm not from here, actually."

You stand in silence for a second, trying to figure out what to say. He truly was taking your breath away. Your mouth opens to speak, but your sentence dies on your tongue.

"Princess, she's ready for you!"

Your head whips around to where Utahime stands at the entrance of the garden, waving you down. Satoru nods at her, before bowing slightly at you.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. It was lovely to meet you Satoru. I hope you enjoy the garden!" You wince and walk away, looking at him over your shoulder.

"You as well, Princess. I hope we can see each other again."

You follow behind Utahime, and the two of you speed walking into your Grandma's office. She sits at her desk, looking over a few forms with her own secretary and someone else from the palace, you're not sure who.

"There she is!" she beams up at you once she looks away from the forms, nodding at her secretary before they shuffle out the doors. As soon as the heavy wood shuts behind you, you give her a blank stare.

"Nice to see you too," she states sarcastically, throwing the papers on her desk. You continue to stand. "Are you going to have a seat, or continue to throw a fit standing there?"

You huff and sit down. "Do you have something to say to me?"

She looks at you, confused, and shakes her head.

"You don't? Not even something about a wedding?" Utahime says your name under her breath, but you ignore her. She may be afraid of the Queen, rightfully so, but you aren't. Your grandma closes her eyes and sighs.

"Who told you?"

"I heard it myself. This morning, in fact." You're fuming. If you could see yourself, you'd be positive you would have steam coming out of your ears.

"I tried, sweetheart. I really did. I can't fight the law, you heard me! If I could I would, and you know that." She stands up and walks towards you, standing in front of you to lean against her desk. "I don't know what else to say, other than I'm sorry. I only want what's best for you."

You look up at her with tears in your eyes, unsure if they're from anger or sadness. She clicks her tongue and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Bastards, all of them. I don't understand why I, the Queen, can't change the rules. But you know, you don't have to go through with this."

You look up at her and furrow your brows.

"This kingdom means the world to me. I can't just abandon everyone like that. I may be young, but I'm not a coward." Your Grandma smiles at you. You stand up and walk towards the window, looking out at the area of the kingdom in view. "I don't want to stop being Princess, just because of some stupid rule that a bunch of old men won't change." You turn to her and take a deep breath.

"If finding someone to marry is what it takes, then I'll do it. As long as I get to pick who."

Your Grandma laughs and walks over to you, pulling you into a hug.

"I admire your strength and commitment, it's inspiring," when she pulls away she holds your arms. "But that doesn't mean I don't want what's best for you. If at any point you don't want to do this, tell me. I know I can get something figured out." You nod, tears threatening to spill from your eyes once more. After a few moments of collecting yourself, you follow your Grandma back to her desk.

"So, what did you want to meet about today?"

She laughs. "Besides the obvious, I wanted to fill you in on something going on at the palace."

You nod and reclaim your seat. "Sure, what's going on?"

"We are having our Summer's Eve ball in a month, so preparations for that have already begun. Utahime will be coordinating with Ms. Kugisaki and yourself about a dress this week. I think that would be a perfect opportunity for you and your," she pauses, giving you a sympathetic look. "new husband to make your debut to the kingdom. I won't advertise it as such, but I want you to be aware of that." You nod distastefully, and she continues.

"Besides the excitement, we have a guest staying at the palace this summer, starting today."

Your ears perk up. The only time guests have ever stayed at the palace since you've been here was your own family and friends for the holidays.

"Who is it?" You lean forward, grinning with excitement. Your Grandma shares your attitude, clapping her hands together.

"He's the son of one of the members of parliament, actually. He's spending the summer with us to see how the castle is run, the day-to-day operations, and everything like that," she opens her mouth to continue, but she's interrupted.

"Madam, he's ready if you are." Her bodyguard, Masamichi calls from the doors of her office. She nods at him, motioning for you to stand up.

"Grandma, I don't understand, who-"

"Your majesty, it's so good to see you again."

Your eyes shoot up, and your jaw drops to the floor. From the other side of the doorway, Utahime looks at you, palms to the ceiling and a shocked look on her face.

"Sweetheart, I would like you to meet Sir Gojo Satoru, our guest for the summer."

[starsbies]

(not so) simple masterlist

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader

status: complete!

summary: coercing lord bridgerton into pretending to court you to avoid the affections of a baron is very simple. that is, of course, until it isn't.

featuring fake dating/courtship, minor rivals to lovers, idiots in love, mutual pining that they think is unrequited, slowish burn, hurt/comfort, a signature bridgerton happily ever after, and my blood sweat and tears!

total wc: 44,497

overall warning(s): historical inaccuracies, period typical misogyny, implied/referenced sexual harassment -- individual, more specific warnings on each chapter. reader is referred to with the last name worthing for convenience

part 1 ↳ 10k words | miss worthing makes an awful sort of proposal to the viscount bridgerton.

part 2 ↳ 7.1k words | miss worthing despises and enjoys the viscount bridgerton's company in equivalence.

part 3 ↳ 9.7k words | miss worthing has a terrible realization.

part 4 ↳ 7.6k words | the viscount has a revelation and miss worthing decides against her heart.

part 5 ↳ 9k words | miss worthing and the viscount find themselves at a crossroads.

[starsbies]

Don't forget about the Palestinians.

Don't forget about them now.

Don't forget about them tomorrow.

Don't forget about them in a week from now.

Don't forget about them in a month.

Don't forget them next year.

Don't forget them in 5 years.

When the history books start to update, don't let them put lies in there.

When documentaries come out, boycott the ones who call this a victory for Israel.

When books release talking about soldier's personal experiences with Palestine, remember the victims. Remember the truth.

Don't forget about what we've seen.

Don't forget about what we've heard.

Don't let them tell lies about Palestine.

Don't forget about the Palestinians when the world tries to make this go away.

[starsbies]

Stolen Destiny (1)

Feyd Rautha x fem!reader

summary: Your father had been promised an heir. But the choices made by another stole that fate from you. Now it's your turn to take theirs.

warnings: adults only, all characters are over 18, smut in future chapters, blood, misogyny, dark themes, canon typical violence

word count: 1.2k

dividers

“Again,” the swordmaster calls out. 

Gritting your teeth, you comply and fall back in position with the others. All this show for what?

With a nod, a troubadour began to pluck at the strings of her Baliset again. Your feet move in the familiar pattern, hilts of the swords bouncing against your hips. This is a waste of time.

Air stills as the rest of the women swirl away from you when another Baliset, one played with a bow sliding against its strings, joins the melody. The blades gnash against their sheaths in protest as you pull them free. They sing in the air, spinning easily between your fingers. Faster and faster they spin to match the skirts of the others now twirling in a circle around you until the music slows.

Once, twice you clink the blades’ together before you stab one into the plush stool in the center. Soft, slow pattering of the drums begins as you turn your back to it. The sword that remains drags its tip against the stone floor. The women bend a knee where they twirled. Sparks follow when you twist quickly.

This is the silliest part. You face a non existent opponent. Bringing your sword forward you drop into a defensive stance. The music rises and now you fight. Thrust, retreat, parrie, circle, advance, lunge, parrie, retreat, parrie, parrie. On and on it goes until you drop the sword. Your arm extends to the partner who does not exist and spin into nothing as the music reaches a crescendo. Chest heaving, you stay there and stare into the abyss until the music and the last of your dignity finally dies.

One of the girls is quick to retrieve and return the swords to you. In contrast, you’re slow to sheath them. You’re not eager to hear the word you know waits on his tongue. But you can only stall for so long.

You turn and face him. His voice cuts sharply across the silent hall. “Again.”

“You look ridiculous,” your father says under his breath so only you can hear. 

A gown, styled after your mother’s House, hung loosely on your frame, hiding any hint of the woman’s body beneath it. You feel ridiculous in it, but had thought it better than the other options. You should have known there was nothing you could have worn that would please him.

“My apologies, father.”

He scoffs. Nothing you do will ever please him.

It’s why you still cannot understand why this celebration is being held. He saw no honor in you being born, why would he see it in you coming of age? And to invite the likes of the Atreides? Was this all some masochistic need to see the son he should have had?

He says outloud, “Don’t embarrass me.” In your head you hear the word he leaves unspoken. ‘Again.’

The Major Houses arrive hours apart, the lucky few Minor Houses invited padding the time between. First is the Princess Irulan. Beautiful, graceful, kind. She compliments you, embracing you as if you’d been friends for life. And it feels as such. A connection left despite the broken destiny. There would be no marriage, but your father whispers that a friendship could offer nearly as much.

The Atreides come next. The Duke is handsome. His concubine, Lady Jessica, hides behind a veil. A Bene Gesserit indeed. Their son, Paul, is charismatic and not as handsome as his father, but more beautiful. He places a kiss on your hand, complimenting your dress and, as he calls them, your lovely eyes. They fall flat on you, but he seems to preen at your own compliment of his hair with a boyish grin painting his face.

Your father’s mood shifts when they and their people are led away to the castle. “Well done. Who knew you could charm so well.” The praise, as backhanded as it is, prickles your skin. “Let’s hope can you keep it up.”

At last, as the sun sets, the Harkonnens arrive. 

Pale and hairless, they're intimidating in their black attire. The Baron did not come, instead having his nephews take his place. The eldest, Count Glossu Rabban, is a giant of a man. From the stories you’ve heard, he's a sadist but an idiot. In his shadow lies the true danger. 

Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. He’s deceptively slight next to his brother. But to be the chosen heir for a House like the Harkonnens there must be a brutal intelligence. Like Paul he takes your offered hand and presses his lips against it. They’re cold, chapped and rough. Unlike Paul he offers a grin that had no boyishness left. Blackened teeth bared, he tugs your arm harshly. You stumble forward into him. The hand he doesn’t hold presses against his chest to catch yourself, the one he does hold twisting out of his grip.

Warm metal presses against your throat. 

Something akin to amusement dances in his eyes as they rove over your. It’s the only sign that he probably doesn’t want to kill you. There’s a measured pause of his gaze, first on the blade then sinking lower, before it flits back to your own. His voice is raspy as he speaks, “It is a pleasure to be here for your coming of age, my lady.” He leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek. The blade retreats. His eyes don’t leave yours as he releases you, flips it, and offers you the hilt. “A gift.”

“Thank you,” you say, hoping your voice holds firm, and reach for the dagger. 

A hand flashes from behind you with a plea of, “Allow me, my lady,” from a guard. 

Feyd, tisked, pulling it out of reach. “It is not a gift for you.”

You’re unceremoniously knocked aside when the guard steps between you. “She will be given it after an inspection.”

“An inspection is unnecessary,” you hiss, face warming. It was embarrassing enough he’d managed to catch you and your court so off guard. But to openly suspect him of intending harm, after such a brazen display of weakness, would cement the failure of any good relations between your houses. Your father would never forgive you.

“He poisons his blades,” the guard insists, not quietly enough.

Feyd-Rautha’s laugh is harsh. He turns to the Harkonnens behind him, lifts his arms, and bellows, “He worries I poison the blade!” It humors them. Rabben guffaws as if he’s never heard a funnier joke. When he faces you again his black grin is even wider. He stares down the guard as he slices the blade across his open palm. Blood soils the blade and drips on the stone beneath him. His eyes shift to you again. His tongue juts out. In a grotesque exhibition he licks it. “Death does not wait for you in my hands today.”

“I never suspected it did, Na-Baron,” you agree, stepping around the guard. He moves to stop you, but a harsh glare has him backing down. There’s still a chance to save this. Appease the Harkonnens and quell your father’s resentment you can feel rolling off him in waves behind you. Feyd offers the hilt again and you take it. The blade slices across your own palm without hesitation, your blood joining his on the stone. You extend your hand to him again.

a/n: my first fic! any thoughts would be appreciated 🥰

be my muse

[starsbies]

Creep | Oliver Quick

Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.

“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.

He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.

But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.

You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real. 

This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.

And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.

He’s your everything.

He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.

Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”

Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.

“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.

Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”

The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.

“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”

A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.

His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.

Felix shrugs.

“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”

Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”

You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.

You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.

“You’re an arsehole.”

His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.

“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”

You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”

He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”

“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”

Felix sighs.

“He doesn't have too many friends.  He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.

“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”

Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile. 

About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.

The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.

So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan. 

Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too. 

You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.

“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.

“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.

You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”

His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”

He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.

“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”

You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.

“Five minutes,” you offer.

He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.

“It’s all I need,” he coos.

The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands. 

As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun. 

It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it. 

Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.

You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.

“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister  lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.” 

You pivot to the rest of the group. 

“Have you guys seen him tonight?”

Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.

“Desperate much?” he teases.

“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”

Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”

“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind.  What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.

You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.

Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth. 

You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.

It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.

You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting,  condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.

You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times. 

A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth. 

“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss. 

When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”

He then introduces the shy boy.

“That’s Ollie.”

“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.

“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.

You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward. 

“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say. 

Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.

“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.

His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.

“Prescott,” he answers.

You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.

“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”

“Probably not, actually.”

Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”

Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.

“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”

You slant your head. “Problems?”

Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”

“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”

“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”

Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.

“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”

You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.

Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.

A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.

“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.

You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back. 

As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix. 

“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.

Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus. 

“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.

Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”

You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…

You catch yourself before finishing the thought.

Now that’s just crazy.

“But I saw…”

Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off  you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.

“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”

He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.

His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”

“Felix, wait…”

He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.

“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Your stomach sinks.

“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.

The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.

Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.

Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.

You get nothing. 

You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.

“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted. 

“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.

“I am today.”

“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”

Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling. 

“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”

“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.

You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.

Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close. 

For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts. 

Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,

“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”

You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.

You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.

Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.

Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you. 

Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.

That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation. 

So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.

You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.

The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.

Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back. 

The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy  never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.

It’s sort of creepy in your opinion. 

Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver. 

And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something. 

It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door. 

Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops. 

You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness. 

You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.

Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.

Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.

You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.

You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.

When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.

“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.

He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.

Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”

“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.

He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”

You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?

You bat your lashes at Oliver.

“You got any alcohol?”

His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”

How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.

It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”

You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.

Your mouth wobbles.

Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.

His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.

His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.

Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back. 

“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow. 

Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips. 

You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.

Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.

Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.

You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.

Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”

Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.

“Oliver, please…”  you beseech, shock making your voice shake.

He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.

Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.

He smiles down at you.

“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”

Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.

But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.

He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.

He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.

You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.

He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.

Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.

He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.

Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back. 

“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…” 

His warm breath fans over your earshell.

“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”

When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.

“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.

“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat. 

A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.

You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.

“Oliver, please,” you repeat.

He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses. 

“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”

Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.

“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. 

“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”

The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up. 

What would you even say?

This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him. 

You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes. 

You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 

You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly. 

You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise. 

Pulse quickening, you head for the door. 

Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.

Before leaving,  you look back. 

Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now. 

No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.

A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips. 

Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.

Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.

You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.

You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.

And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.

When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.

The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.

Oliver did not care…

The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.

A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.

Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.

“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.

His deep voice penetrates through the door.

“Hey, can we talk?” he asks. 

He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.

“Right now is not the best time.”

He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.

“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”

Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”

“I could take care of you…”

You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.

“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”

“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.

“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”

“Thank you. Thank you.”

He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.

Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.

“Felix,” you greet.

He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.

“I really missed you.”

“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.

His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”

“More like a selfish arsehole.”

His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.

A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.

“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”

“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.

Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.

“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”

Words leave your mouth without forethought.

“Who was it this time?”

He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.

“It was Annabel.”

“Oh.”

The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him. 

Sincerity vibrates in his tone. 

“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…” 

You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break. 

He leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you,” he states.

You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you. 

He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach. 

“I love you,” he repeats.

Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you. 

“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.

A sunny smile breaks out on his face.

“No more lies from now on.”

A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.

“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.

Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.

“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.

The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.

“I need to go to class,” you chime. 

You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.

Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.

“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”

You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.

“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”

Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave. 

“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”

“Sure.”

He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.

Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.

Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.

What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.

You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.

He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.

It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.

As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.

You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.

Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight. 

Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor. 

And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.

You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.

As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape. 

Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months. 

It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.

These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it. 

But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.

“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.

Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.

“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.

You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.

His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.

Your pulse soars as he inches closer.

“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”

Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”

Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.

“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”

When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh. 

“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”

Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him. 

Oliver smiles. 

“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.” 

Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His  gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.

“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer. 

Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.

“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”

A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.

“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.

“Y-Yes.”

“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.

“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.

“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”

Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”

He strokes under your thigh absently.

“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”

When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression. 

“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” 

[starsbies]

Hungry For Your Love (Coriolanus x !Plinth Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, drugging, drinking, Coriolanus is his own warning, jealousy, breeding kink, manipulation, forced pregnancy, virginity loss, forced marriage (lmk if i missed some)

divider by @cafekitsune

porn w some plot or when coriolanus decides he wants you.

18+ only MDNI

wc - 4.4k

Coriolanus wouldn’t deny all the things he had in his mind. About all the things he would do to you. Especially in this very moment of time. 

You were sitting right next to him at the dinner table. Ever since he got rid of Sejanus–and became the new son of the Plinths–he had to eat dinner with the Plinths every two or so weeks. Although he found their district status to be quite deplorable, their wealth wasn’t. And to be frank you weren’t either.

To Coriolanus, you were the epitome of class and obedience. Well, almost, the way your leg was bouncing wasn't classy at all. Under different circumstances he would just put his hand on your thigh to stop you. Then he’d slowly make his hand upwards and-

“Coriolanus, what do you think?” 

The old man broke Coryo out of his train of thought. Suddenly his mind was going a million miles per minute. What were they talking about? Something about a project for.. No, that's not right. A new building? For the University maybe?

Then you spoke up, “Well Pa, personally I think a new cafeteria for the Academy is long overdue. It would’ve been nice to not have such a beat up cafeteria when I was a student.” 

He looked at you in the corner of his eye. You had a strand of your hair tucked behind your hair and your leg was no longer bouncing. Had you purposely saved him? 

Then he remembered that he still needed to answer Strabo. Coriolanus cleared his throat, “I think I’d have to agree with Y/N. The cafeteria dates back before the war so I believe it’s definitely overdue for a new building.”

Strabo nodded in acknowledgement before continuing to bite into his steak. Coriolanus decided to do the same and then took another peek at you. You looked so gorgeous to him, well you do everyday—but today was a treat.

You wore a red dress that went to your knees. It covered just enough to be considered modest. Your hair was down but he could see your dangling pearl earrings. He noted how you’d make a perfect bride for him. Beautiful, graceful, and heiress to the family business and fortune. In exchange he would give you status.

Together you two would be the elite of the elite. 

“So Coryo,” the blond internally winced. He hated when Mrs. Plinth called him that. “How's it going being Dr. Gaul’s understudy?”

“Well, there’s a lot of work, you know.” He took a deep breath, “We’ve been working on remaking the Jabberjays, since they can’t reproduce on their own we have to make a whole new species of them. We want to use them in the next Hunger Games so-”

A sudden chair screeching interrupted him. He turned and saw you standing. You excused yourself from the table, claiming you needed to finish writing an essay. Coriolanus wasn’t dumb, he knew why you really left. Though you’re very different from your brother there were also some ways the two of you were similar. Your distaste towards the Hunger Games was something that he’d have to help you get over if you’re to be the first lady of Panem.

Coriolanus waited a few moments before also excusing himself and he found himself making his way to your room. As he started nearing your room he started asking himself, what was he doing? What would he say when you asked him why he was here? 

He couldn’t just proclaim you as his wife and tell you to get over it. Not yet, anyway.

He eventually came to the conclusion that it was probably best to just leave. Grandma'am and Tigris were waiting anyway. 

That night Coriolanus had dreamt of you. That in itself wasn’t really a rare occurrence by any means, but the things you told him—the things you did to him—in his dreams was what made him wake up rock hard and sweaty. You really are such a tease. 

After a few seconds of laying in bed, Coriolanus decided that since a certain problem won’t go away any time soon it was time to get his day started. Once he stood up he nearly started to make his own bed. A bad habit of his. Before the Plinth’s started providing everything he needed, Coriolanus always had to make his own bed. He always had to clean up for himself. Now he has Avoxes to do that for him. Old habits do die hard.

When Coriolanus stepped into the bathroom he wasn’t surprised to see that the bath wasn’t drawn for him like usual. He was up way earlier than usual. He sighed and turned on the water. He started undressing and then checked the water temperature. Once he decided the water was warm enough he slowly started to insert himself into the tub. 

Once he was fully submerged, he closed his eyes and eased his body. He recounted the images from his dream and subconsciously his hands started moving to his shaft. 

“Sir, please.. Please let me see it.” you were in that slutty red dress that you wore last night. And you were on your knees for him. The thought of that was biting and delicious. He’d tell you no, just so you’d beg more. 

In his dream, Coriolanus stood from his chair. Now towering over you, he unzipped his pants allowing his cock to spring free. You immediately took it into your mouth.

Would you be that desperate for him in real life?

 Coriolanus needs you as much as any man needs air. He gritted his teeth, unable to hold on much longer. Slowly, the blond starts pumping his shaft. It was so animalistic and enticing, the image he had of you. He couldn’t help but choke back his wails of pleasure. He was afraid of being caught by Tigris, or even worse–the grandma’am–but he couldn’t help himself. 

In his fantasy you’re swallowing him whole, deepthroating every inch of him. Your cheeks hollowed out and your tongue was swirling around him like a good girl. He grabs you by both sides of your head and starts fucking your face like an animal. 

Soon enough Coriolanus can feel himself  reaching his climax. His legs are weak as he tries to imagine himself pouring his seed into you, and not some bathtub. You’d most certainly look divine carrying his child.

After a few moments after his climax he realized how tainted that whole ordeal was. Yet, he thinks that he would do it again, and again. Until he had you.

Coriolanus sighs as he drains the tub and draws up another bath. This time around the bath was short.

The next time Coriolanus saw you–in person–was at a party hosted by Clemensia. He was surprised to see you. You weren’t usually the type to go out, especially to parties like these. Unless there was a good reason for you to come. Or had you finally made an effort to debut into Capitol society? Hopefully the latter.

He continued to observe you from afar. You were sitting with one leg crossed over the other. Seemingly deep in thought. Or you were, until a tall and pretty lean gentleman approached you. Your face lit up and Coriolanus wished you’d look at him like that. 

Who is he? How did he know you, how did you know him?

Coriolanus quickly sought out Clemensia, it was her party so she must know. It didn’t take long to find the black haired girl. She was speaking with Festus and the two were clearly laughing about something that didn’t really seem too important. He approached the two and whispered “Clemmie,” a nickname he only used if he needed something, “Can I steal you for a minute?” 

The girl stilled for a second before telling Festus to give them a second. She looked up at Coriolanus, “What is it, Coryo?” 

He wasted no time in asking who the male that was with you was. 

Clemensia sighed, “Her plus one, I invited her ‘cause she’s rich and the heir to her father’s business. It’s good to have her on my good side.  Wasn’t really expecting her to come so I told her to bring a plus one if she wanted.” 

Plus one? You not only came to a party, but brought a plus one? Were the two of you together? The thought of that makes someone churn in his stomach. “So who is he?”

“Don’t really know. Pretty sure they bonded over their hatred of the games, he was probably homeschooled.” 

Coriolanus felt sick and Clemensia noticed. She took a step back. “Hey, you look like you might vomit all over the place.. You know where the guest bathroom is right?” He nodded. “Good. There’s a medicine cabinet in there too, if you want. Please don’t ruin my party, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nodded his head before making his way to the bathroom. He stood over the toilet for a couple of moments, and nothing happened. He figured that it would be best to take some medicine before heading out, just in case. He opened a few different cabinets before finding the right one. 

He knew there’d be lots of different bottles, but he still wasn’t expecting such a variety. Coriolanus knew that Clemensia struggled a lot, mentally, after the snake incident so he knew there’d be lots of prescriptions in here. Curiosity got the best of him and he started going through each one. There were a few anxiety prescriptions, like benzodiazepines,  which he expected. However, he took notice of all the insomnia medications. There were so many sleeping pills. The one that caught his attention the most was flunitrazepam. It’s a powerful sedative, and he’s wondering if Clemensia really takes such a strong drug to sleep?

There was a little voice in the back of his mind telling him to take some. Not for himself of course. To give to you. Coriolanus wishes that he still had a little angel on his shoulder, telling him it was a bad idea. A voice to persuade him not to. But there wasn’t. Has there ever been?

Before Coriolanus knew it he was unscrewing the cap and took out one of the small pills. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it beside the sink. He set the pill on top before smashing it into tiny pieces. He rolled the handkerchief—with the sedative still inside—into a ball and shoved it into his coat pocket. 

Before Coriolanus left the bathroom he made sure to take medicine for his stomach ache. Just in case. 

He made his way to the bar, where an Avox was bartending. He put up two of his fingers to the bartender. As it started making the drinks, Coriolanus sought you out again. Unsurprisingly, you were still in the same spot. The only difference now was that the male was sitting beside you, and Coriolanus could feel himself becoming more and more aggravated. He turned back around, not wanting to see you laughing at the other man’s joke any longer. 

A few seconds later the Avox set two drinks in front of him and Coriolanus took no time in taking out his handkerchief and spilling the contents into one of the glasses. The Avox watched the whole thing happen and could only raise its eyebrows in response. Coriolanus smirked knowing it couldn’t say anything. Coriolanus took a glass into each hand, noting that the one with the sedative in it was in his right hand. 

The closer Coriolanus got, the more nervous he became. Part of him felt bad, really. You're just an innocent girl, one who is easily swayed. That had to be it. Sejanus must’ve started your hatred towards the hunger games, and that man continues to spark that hatred. Someone needs to save you, to wake you up. He won’t let you do something stupid like Sejanus did. Coriolanus is saving you, and this is the only way he can do it. 

“Y/N Plinth, what a pleasant surprise!” he exclaimed, as if he wasn’t already of her attendance. You looked up at him, and he swore his heart rate went up. 

“Oh, Coriolanus. Good to see you too.” 

You clearly were uncomfortable with his interruption. Was he the first person to approach you? Coriolanus was thinking about how to ease the tension when your plus one spoke up instead. “Hello, I’m Chiron. Nice to meet you.”

Coriolanus took a few minutes to soak in the male’s appearance. He had dark hair, and blue eyes. His jawline was square and Coriolanus took note of how his suit was lower end. Was he even Capitol? Then he turned back to you. You wore a simple black dress and heels. A timeless outfit. He noted that you did an updo with your hair, to show off your earrings. Stunning.

“Nice to meet you too, Chiron. Sadly, I only have two drinks, you don’t mind do you?” 

The brown haired man shrugged and you finally spoke up again, “Oh, it’s okay. I don’t drink.” How cute, Coriolanus thought. “Oh c’mon, it’ll help you ease up a little. I can tell you’re a little tense.” 

His tone was light, but he could tell he might’ve sounded more demanding. You sighed and gave him a tiny smile. He made sure he gave you the one in his right hand. You held it and eager to get you to drink it, he raised his glass. “To Sejanus.” A toast that you knew you couldn’t refuse.

You raise your glass afterwards and whispered, “To my brother.” Without waiting for Coriolanus to lower his glass, you took a giant swing of the drink.

After a couple minutes of small talking, he could tell that the drug was slowly taking effect. You were swaying and kept trying to steady yourself. Until you couldn’t and Chiron had to catch you from falling. 

“Woah hey, are you okay?” the brunette asked and of course you gave no response. “What’s wrong with her? Did you do something?” the man gave Coriolanus an accusatory glare.

“No! Of course not.” Coriolanus paused for a moment, thinking of what he could say to sell his lie. “Wait.. I can’t believe I forgot she’s a lightweight. I should’ve realized when she said she doesn’t drink.” 

“You did this on purpose didn’t you!” Chiron started shouting at Coriolanus. “Did you spike her drink or something? You did, didn't you!” 

All the background chatter from the other attendees quieted down. Observing the scene before them. “Why would I do that? I would never even consider doing that to her, I-”

Then Clemensia stepped in. “What’s going on here, Coryo? I asked you not to ruin my party.” Her eyes landed on you and then up to Coriolanus, clearly expecting a good explanation.

He sighed. “This man is making very harmful accusations. He’s saying I drugged her. Y/N’s just a lightweight.” 

“Is that true?”  

He already knew she’d believe him and the brunette knew it too. 

“Look, whatever. I’m taking her home.” he said, and started to pick you up before Coriolanus spoke up again. 

“No.. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you think so Clemmie?”

“Well I don’t know I-” 

“Clemmie, do you want her to be taken by some guy that nobody knows?” his voice was eager, he can’t let all of this trouble go to waste. “Who knows what he’ll do to her?” He whispered, only loud enough for her to hear. 

Clemmie sighed. “I guess not, maybe she should just sleep in one of the guest bedrooms?”

 After that people began to whisper and that felt more eerie than the silence. 

“I’ll stay with her.” Chiron was clearly trying desperately to save you. Sadly for him, he doesn’t have nearly the same amount of power as Coriolanus.

Before Coriolanus could persuade Clemensia to say no, she did it on her own. Telling him that he needs to leave her party, since the reason he was even allowed to come—you—was no longer, technically, here. 

And that was that. Two Avoxes wasted no time in escorting the man out. Coriolanus could only smirk to himself. He made a mental note to thank Clemensia in the future. 

“I guess I’ll take her to the guest bedroom then?” He finally allowed himself a deep breath in and out. Everything he’s ever worked for has led to this moment. 

“Coriolanus.” Clemensia’s voice was serious and blond found himself coming back to reality. “Don’t hurt her.” 

He looked down and found that she was already looking at him. Her face was hard and eyes were cold and serious. Like a snake. Coriolanus gulped, “I would never dream of it.” 

And she believed him. 

Coriolanus took no time in picking you up bridal style. On his way to the bedroom, he passed the bar and made eye contact with the same Avox that watched him spike your drink. He couldn’t help but feel his pride grow as the Avox quickly looked away. Surely aware of what was going to take place. 

In the past the blond felt bad about the seemingly inhumane ways the Capitol removed tongues from people who spoke out or rebelled. He always thought about the pain, and how cruel it was to take away their communication, then force them into servitude.  That was him a long time ago however. Now he understands the importance of such policies. Power and control, two words that Coriolanus resonated with. 

 Once he made it to the bedroom he laid you gently onto the mattress. He didn’t immediately take off his clothes, or yours. He just sat there and studied you. You were so irresistible. How hadn’t he noticed earlier? Was it because Sejanus bothered him so much that he never noticed you? Whatever the reason was, Sejanus was now gone and you were going to be his–soon.

The thought that more nights like this—nights with you— were in his future made him grow hard. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He began by taking off your heels. He wondered how you could wear such ridiculous things, surely they were uncomfortable and he was proven right when he noticed the blisters on your feet. He mentally added that to his list of things he’d have to fix. 

Coriolanus took time in taking off your dress. He carefully sat you upright just enough to unzip the back zipper. He even more carefully removed the dress from your body and then laid you back down.  He took a moment to admire your almost bare form. You were wearing a matching black set. Nothing too much. You weren’t planning on this happening anyway.

He pushed your panties to the side and inserted one finger into you slowly. Absolutely divine, he thought. The way you felt around his finger was enough to get him drunk.  He began to kiss up your legs while also thrusting his digit. Part of him wishes you were awake, just so he can see your reactions. You’d be moaning for more, begging for more,  he knows it.

The blond inserted a second digit and began scissoring motions. Suddenly he hears a small whimper, so small he wasn’t even sure what it was until he heard it a second time. Were you waking up? Part of him hopes so, that way you’ll know and realize who you belong to. The other part of him wants you to keep sleeping. That way he won’t have to fight you, he already worked so hard to get here anyway.

Coriolanus momentarily stops his ministrations and removes his fingers from your wetness. He examines them, drenched in your juices. He licks his fingers clean  and can feel himself getting impossibly harder. You make him so hungry, he’s starved. He can’t hold himself any longer, he tells himself. Next time, he assures himself, he’ll take his time enjoying you. 

He quickly releases his length. It’s angry and red, begging for you. He huffs before finally removing your underwear. He contemplated stealing them before realizing he won’t need to after this. He quickly threw them somewhere and then he spread your legs. 

He touched his cock a few times, then proceeded to coat his length in his precum. He could feel his heart pounding and his breath quickening. He aligned himself with your entrance and slowly pushed in. You were tight, and he cursed to himself because he knew he should’ve taken more time preparing you. 

Once he was fully seethed inside of you, he took a moment and admired the blood on his cock. Pleased to know you hadn’t slept with that lousy Chiron guy, he slowly removed himself before shoving himself back inside of you. You were still whimpering like before, but now you wore a pained expression on your face. You could feel him. 

“I know it hurts right now, love. Bear with me.” he whispered, although he wasn’t sure if you could hear him or even comprehend what he was saying. 

Coriolanus could feel all the arousal pooling between the two of you. You weren’t as tight as you had been in the beginning. Now he could easily invade your gummy walls. If anything he wasn’t invading them because they sucked him back in. His lip twitched and he began to quicken his pace. After a particular thrust your body clenched around him and he let out a groan. “You like that, huh? You dirty slut.” 

He began to aim harder at the same place that had you clenching around his length. When you let out a mewl he decided to go even faster. You were such a mess. A beautiful mess, one that he created and one that he will clean up. 

The blond slid his hands behind your back and unclipped your bra. He quickly disposed of it and stared at your chest. Now you were fully exposed to him. He drank in the sight, no more secrets. He was going to memorize every freckle, every birthmark, every inch of your body by the end of tonight. 

Every thrust made your chest bounce and he couldn’t help but take the left one in his mouth while squeezing the other. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before sucking on it lightly. In his other hand he was rubbing your nipple. 

“C- Cor-”

He perked up, hearing your voice. You must be waking up. He removed his mouth from your mound, leaving a trail of his saliva, and looked at your face. You looked scared and for a second he felt bad. Then he reminded himself that you did this to yourself. In the long run, you’ll be thankful.

“Whats-” you furrowed your brows, clearly not fully awake. “What are you-”

He was quick to shush you. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, to which you tried your best to push him away. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t let your refusal be let off so lightly but you were just so weak. Instead he just took your wrists and pinned them above your head. 

“Be a good girl or I won’t let you cum. Understand?” He looked into your eyes and he could tell you were about to cry. Your eyes were glossed over and your face was red, from the sex or the need to cry–he wasn’t sure. 

After a mere second of eye contact you turned your head to the side. He growled, tired of your disobedience. He removed one of his hands from your wrists and moved it to your jaw. He forced you to look at him. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” your tears started falling and he quickened his pace, “I’m gonna take care of you.. I promise.” he wiped your cheek with his thumb. Out of lust–or fear–you nodded. He could tell you were gonna climax soon, so he removed his hand from your wrists and moved it to your clit doing circular motions. You started whimpering, holding back her moans, “Go on, moan my name.. Don’t be shy.” 

“C- Coriolanus,” he hummed, questioning. “Please.. Too much.” you begged.

He grinned in satisfaction and quickened his pace. You started to squeeze him more and he knew it was coming. You started to squirm, an unfamiliar feeling surely boiling in your lower abdomen. 

After a few moments longer you came undone. Coriolanus made sure to study the pure ecstasy on your face. The way your mouth opened, revealing the most gratifying moan. The way your eyes squinted, your senses became too much. It was all so lewd and he gave you no comfort in stopping his ministrations, opting to fuck you through it. He was searching for his own climax now while you were a moaning mess underneath him.

He leaned down to your ear, “I’m gonna feel you up so nice, put a baby in your womb. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You didn’t answer him, unable to not be a blubbering mess. He took the way your cunt sucked him in as an answer enough. 

There it was, the coiling feeling. He became erratic, chasing that all too familiar feeling of his high. Suddenly he was the moaning mess and not you. He examined your face, and noted that you were crying more than before and that sent him over edge. He spilled every drop of his seed into you. 

Then he stayed there and the world felt silent besides the two of you breathing. Everything felt surreal. 

His member was soft now, and he slowly removed himself from inside you. He pushed out the cum that was leaking out. Don’t want any of that getting lost, he thought.

He laid himself onto the bed next to you. He tried looking at you, only for you to turn the other direction. He sighed, understanding that you might need time to think about everything that’s happened. 

“You’ve ruined me, Coriolanus Snow.” you said, so tiny he wasn’t sure you even said it until you turned your head back to face him. 

“You’ve taken everything from me.” your face was tear stained and red. Your nose was runny and he just noticed that you were sniffling.

“Everything?”

You took a shaky breath. “My life, my fortune,  my future,” you closed your eyes, “my brother.”

To that his heart sank, and his eyes widened. It wasn’t often that Coriolanus felt bad, to be honest he still didn’t, but the look on your face told him he should. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, and reached out to wipe your tear-stained cheeks.

“Me too.”

[starsbies]

Hungry For Your Love (Coriolanus x !Plinth Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, drugging, drinking, Coriolanus is his own warning, jealousy, breeding kink, manipulation, forced pregnancy, virginity loss, forced marriage (lmk if i missed some)

divider by @cafekitsune

porn w some plot or when coriolanus decides he wants you.

18+ only MDNI

wc - 4.4k

Coriolanus wouldn’t deny all the things he had in his mind. About all the things he would do to you. Especially in this very moment of time. 

You were sitting right next to him at the dinner table. Ever since he got rid of Sejanus–and became the new son of the Plinths–he had to eat dinner with the Plinths every two or so weeks. Although he found their district status to be quite deplorable, their wealth wasn’t. And to be frank you weren’t either.

To Coriolanus, you were the epitome of class and obedience. Well, almost, the way your leg was bouncing wasn't classy at all. Under different circumstances he would just put his hand on your thigh to stop you. Then he’d slowly make his hand upwards and-

“Coriolanus, what do you think?” 

The old man broke Coryo out of his train of thought. Suddenly his mind was going a million miles per minute. What were they talking about? Something about a project for.. No, that's not right. A new building? For the University maybe?

Then you spoke up, “Well Pa, personally I think a new cafeteria for the Academy is long overdue. It would’ve been nice to not have such a beat up cafeteria when I was a student.” 

He looked at you in the corner of his eye. You had a strand of your hair tucked behind your hair and your leg was no longer bouncing. Had you purposely saved him? 

Then he remembered that he still needed to answer Strabo. Coriolanus cleared his throat, “I think I’d have to agree with Y/N. The cafeteria dates back before the war so I believe it’s definitely overdue for a new building.”

Strabo nodded in acknowledgement before continuing to bite into his steak. Coriolanus decided to do the same and then took another peek at you. You looked so gorgeous to him, well you do everyday—but today was a treat.

You wore a red dress that went to your knees. It covered just enough to be considered modest. Your hair was down but he could see your dangling pearl earrings. He noted how you’d make a perfect bride for him. Beautiful, graceful, and heiress to the family business and fortune. In exchange he would give you status.

Together you two would be the elite of the elite. 

“So Coryo,” the blond internally winced. He hated when Mrs. Plinth called him that. “How's it going being Dr. Gaul’s understudy?”

“Well, there’s a lot of work, you know.” He took a deep breath, “We’ve been working on remaking the Jabberjays, since they can’t reproduce on their own we have to make a whole new species of them. We want to use them in the next Hunger Games so-”

A sudden chair screeching interrupted him. He turned and saw you standing. You excused yourself from the table, claiming you needed to finish writing an essay. Coriolanus wasn’t dumb, he knew why you really left. Though you’re very different from your brother there were also some ways the two of you were similar. Your distaste towards the Hunger Games was something that he’d have to help you get over if you’re to be the first lady of Panem.

Coriolanus waited a few moments before also excusing himself and he found himself making his way to your room. As he started nearing your room he started asking himself, what was he doing? What would he say when you asked him why he was here? 

He couldn’t just proclaim you as his wife and tell you to get over it. Not yet, anyway.

He eventually came to the conclusion that it was probably best to just leave. Grandma'am and Tigris were waiting anyway. 

That night Coriolanus had dreamt of you. That in itself wasn’t really a rare occurrence by any means, but the things you told him—the things you did to him—in his dreams was what made him wake up rock hard and sweaty. You really are such a tease. 

After a few seconds of laying in bed, Coriolanus decided that since a certain problem won’t go away any time soon it was time to get his day started. Once he stood up he nearly started to make his own bed. A bad habit of his. Before the Plinth’s started providing everything he needed, Coriolanus always had to make his own bed. He always had to clean up for himself. Now he has Avoxes to do that for him. Old habits do die hard.

When Coriolanus stepped into the bathroom he wasn’t surprised to see that the bath wasn’t drawn for him like usual. He was up way earlier than usual. He sighed and turned on the water. He started undressing and then checked the water temperature. Once he decided the water was warm enough he slowly started to insert himself into the tub. 

Once he was fully submerged, he closed his eyes and eased his body. He recounted the images from his dream and subconsciously his hands started moving to his shaft. 

“Sir, please.. Please let me see it.” you were in that slutty red dress that you wore last night. And you were on your knees for him. The thought of that was biting and delicious. He’d tell you no, just so you’d beg more. 

In his dream, Coriolanus stood from his chair. Now towering over you, he unzipped his pants allowing his cock to spring free. You immediately took it into your mouth.

Would you be that desperate for him in real life?

 Coriolanus needs you as much as any man needs air. He gritted his teeth, unable to hold on much longer. Slowly, the blond starts pumping his shaft. It was so animalistic and enticing, the image he had of you. He couldn’t help but choke back his wails of pleasure. He was afraid of being caught by Tigris, or even worse–the grandma’am–but he couldn’t help himself. 

In his fantasy you’re swallowing him whole, deepthroating every inch of him. Your cheeks hollowed out and your tongue was swirling around him like a good girl. He grabs you by both sides of your head and starts fucking your face like an animal. 

Soon enough Coriolanus can feel himself  reaching his climax. His legs are weak as he tries to imagine himself pouring his seed into you, and not some bathtub. You’d most certainly look divine carrying his child.

After a few moments after his climax he realized how tainted that whole ordeal was. Yet, he thinks that he would do it again, and again. Until he had you.

Coriolanus sighs as he drains the tub and draws up another bath. This time around the bath was short.

The next time Coriolanus saw you–in person–was at a party hosted by Clemensia. He was surprised to see you. You weren’t usually the type to go out, especially to parties like these. Unless there was a good reason for you to come. Or had you finally made an effort to debut into Capitol society? Hopefully the latter.

He continued to observe you from afar. You were sitting with one leg crossed over the other. Seemingly deep in thought. Or you were, until a tall and pretty lean gentleman approached you. Your face lit up and Coriolanus wished you’d look at him like that. 

Who is he? How did he know you, how did you know him?

Coriolanus quickly sought out Clemensia, it was her party so she must know. It didn’t take long to find the black haired girl. She was speaking with Festus and the two were clearly laughing about something that didn’t really seem too important. He approached the two and whispered “Clemmie,” a nickname he only used if he needed something, “Can I steal you for a minute?” 

The girl stilled for a second before telling Festus to give them a second. She looked up at Coriolanus, “What is it, Coryo?” 

He wasted no time in asking who the male that was with you was. 

Clemensia sighed, “Her plus one, I invited her ‘cause she’s rich and the heir to her father’s business. It’s good to have her on my good side.  Wasn’t really expecting her to come so I told her to bring a plus one if she wanted.” 

Plus one? You not only came to a party, but brought a plus one? Were the two of you together? The thought of that makes someone churn in his stomach. “So who is he?”

“Don’t really know. Pretty sure they bonded over their hatred of the games, he was probably homeschooled.” 

Coriolanus felt sick and Clemensia noticed. She took a step back. “Hey, you look like you might vomit all over the place.. You know where the guest bathroom is right?” He nodded. “Good. There’s a medicine cabinet in there too, if you want. Please don’t ruin my party, Coryo.”

Coriolanus nodded his head before making his way to the bathroom. He stood over the toilet for a couple of moments, and nothing happened. He figured that it would be best to take some medicine before heading out, just in case. He opened a few different cabinets before finding the right one. 

He knew there’d be lots of different bottles, but he still wasn’t expecting such a variety. Coriolanus knew that Clemensia struggled a lot, mentally, after the snake incident so he knew there’d be lots of prescriptions in here. Curiosity got the best of him and he started going through each one. There were a few anxiety prescriptions, like benzodiazepines,  which he expected. However, he took notice of all the insomnia medications. There were so many sleeping pills. The one that caught his attention the most was flunitrazepam. It’s a powerful sedative, and he’s wondering if Clemensia really takes such a strong drug to sleep?

There was a little voice in the back of his mind telling him to take some. Not for himself of course. To give to you. Coriolanus wishes that he still had a little angel on his shoulder, telling him it was a bad idea. A voice to persuade him not to. But there wasn’t. Has there ever been?

Before Coriolanus knew it he was unscrewing the cap and took out one of the small pills. He took his handkerchief out of his pocket and laid it beside the sink. He set the pill on top before smashing it into tiny pieces. He rolled the handkerchief—with the sedative still inside—into a ball and shoved it into his coat pocket. 

Before Coriolanus left the bathroom he made sure to take medicine for his stomach ache. Just in case. 

He made his way to the bar, where an Avox was bartending. He put up two of his fingers to the bartender. As it started making the drinks, Coriolanus sought you out again. Unsurprisingly, you were still in the same spot. The only difference now was that the male was sitting beside you, and Coriolanus could feel himself becoming more and more aggravated. He turned back around, not wanting to see you laughing at the other man’s joke any longer. 

A few seconds later the Avox set two drinks in front of him and Coriolanus took no time in taking out his handkerchief and spilling the contents into one of the glasses. The Avox watched the whole thing happen and could only raise its eyebrows in response. Coriolanus smirked knowing it couldn’t say anything. Coriolanus took a glass into each hand, noting that the one with the sedative in it was in his right hand. 

The closer Coriolanus got, the more nervous he became. Part of him felt bad, really. You're just an innocent girl, one who is easily swayed. That had to be it. Sejanus must’ve started your hatred towards the hunger games, and that man continues to spark that hatred. Someone needs to save you, to wake you up. He won’t let you do something stupid like Sejanus did. Coriolanus is saving you, and this is the only way he can do it. 

“Y/N Plinth, what a pleasant surprise!” he exclaimed, as if he wasn’t already of her attendance. You looked up at him, and he swore his heart rate went up. 

“Oh, Coriolanus. Good to see you too.” 

You clearly were uncomfortable with his interruption. Was he the first person to approach you? Coriolanus was thinking about how to ease the tension when your plus one spoke up instead. “Hello, I’m Chiron. Nice to meet you.”

Coriolanus took a few minutes to soak in the male’s appearance. He had dark hair, and blue eyes. His jawline was square and Coriolanus took note of how his suit was lower end. Was he even Capitol? Then he turned back to you. You wore a simple black dress and heels. A timeless outfit. He noted that you did an updo with your hair, to show off your earrings. Stunning.

“Nice to meet you too, Chiron. Sadly, I only have two drinks, you don’t mind do you?” 

The brown haired man shrugged and you finally spoke up again, “Oh, it’s okay. I don’t drink.” How cute, Coriolanus thought. “Oh c’mon, it’ll help you ease up a little. I can tell you’re a little tense.” 

His tone was light, but he could tell he might’ve sounded more demanding. You sighed and gave him a tiny smile. He made sure he gave you the one in his right hand. You held it and eager to get you to drink it, he raised his glass. “To Sejanus.” A toast that you knew you couldn’t refuse.

You raise your glass afterwards and whispered, “To my brother.” Without waiting for Coriolanus to lower his glass, you took a giant swing of the drink.

After a couple minutes of small talking, he could tell that the drug was slowly taking effect. You were swaying and kept trying to steady yourself. Until you couldn’t and Chiron had to catch you from falling. 

“Woah hey, are you okay?” the brunette asked and of course you gave no response. “What’s wrong with her? Did you do something?” the man gave Coriolanus an accusatory glare.

“No! Of course not.” Coriolanus paused for a moment, thinking of what he could say to sell his lie. “Wait.. I can’t believe I forgot she’s a lightweight. I should’ve realized when she said she doesn’t drink.” 

“You did this on purpose didn’t you!” Chiron started shouting at Coriolanus. “Did you spike her drink or something? You did, didn't you!” 

All the background chatter from the other attendees quieted down. Observing the scene before them. “Why would I do that? I would never even consider doing that to her, I-”

Then Clemensia stepped in. “What’s going on here, Coryo? I asked you not to ruin my party.” Her eyes landed on you and then up to Coriolanus, clearly expecting a good explanation.

He sighed. “This man is making very harmful accusations. He’s saying I drugged her. Y/N’s just a lightweight.” 

“Is that true?”  

He already knew she’d believe him and the brunette knew it too. 

“Look, whatever. I’m taking her home.” he said, and started to pick you up before Coriolanus spoke up again. 

“No.. I don’t think that’s a good idea. Do you think so Clemmie?”

“Well I don’t know I-” 

“Clemmie, do you want her to be taken by some guy that nobody knows?” his voice was eager, he can’t let all of this trouble go to waste. “Who knows what he’ll do to her?” He whispered, only loud enough for her to hear. 

Clemmie sighed. “I guess not, maybe she should just sleep in one of the guest bedrooms?”

 After that people began to whisper and that felt more eerie than the silence. 

“I’ll stay with her.” Chiron was clearly trying desperately to save you. Sadly for him, he doesn’t have nearly the same amount of power as Coriolanus.

Before Coriolanus could persuade Clemensia to say no, she did it on her own. Telling him that he needs to leave her party, since the reason he was even allowed to come—you—was no longer, technically, here. 

And that was that. Two Avoxes wasted no time in escorting the man out. Coriolanus could only smirk to himself. He made a mental note to thank Clemensia in the future. 

“I guess I’ll take her to the guest bedroom then?” He finally allowed himself a deep breath in and out. Everything he’s ever worked for has led to this moment. 

“Coriolanus.” Clemensia’s voice was serious and blond found himself coming back to reality. “Don’t hurt her.” 

He looked down and found that she was already looking at him. Her face was hard and eyes were cold and serious. Like a snake. Coriolanus gulped, “I would never dream of it.” 

And she believed him. 

Coriolanus took no time in picking you up bridal style. On his way to the bedroom, he passed the bar and made eye contact with the same Avox that watched him spike your drink. He couldn’t help but feel his pride grow as the Avox quickly looked away. Surely aware of what was going to take place. 

In the past the blond felt bad about the seemingly inhumane ways the Capitol removed tongues from people who spoke out or rebelled. He always thought about the pain, and how cruel it was to take away their communication, then force them into servitude.  That was him a long time ago however. Now he understands the importance of such policies. Power and control, two words that Coriolanus resonated with. 

 Once he made it to the bedroom he laid you gently onto the mattress. He didn’t immediately take off his clothes, or yours. He just sat there and studied you. You were so irresistible. How hadn’t he noticed earlier? Was it because Sejanus bothered him so much that he never noticed you? Whatever the reason was, Sejanus was now gone and you were going to be his–soon.

The thought that more nights like this—nights with you— were in his future made him grow hard. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. He began by taking off your heels. He wondered how you could wear such ridiculous things, surely they were uncomfortable and he was proven right when he noticed the blisters on your feet. He mentally added that to his list of things he’d have to fix. 

Coriolanus took time in taking off your dress. He carefully sat you upright just enough to unzip the back zipper. He even more carefully removed the dress from your body and then laid you back down.  He took a moment to admire your almost bare form. You were wearing a matching black set. Nothing too much. You weren’t planning on this happening anyway.

He pushed your panties to the side and inserted one finger into you slowly. Absolutely divine, he thought. The way you felt around his finger was enough to get him drunk.  He began to kiss up your legs while also thrusting his digit. Part of him wishes you were awake, just so he can see your reactions. You’d be moaning for more, begging for more,  he knows it.

The blond inserted a second digit and began scissoring motions. Suddenly he hears a small whimper, so small he wasn’t even sure what it was until he heard it a second time. Were you waking up? Part of him hopes so, that way you’ll know and realize who you belong to. The other part of him wants you to keep sleeping. That way he won’t have to fight you, he already worked so hard to get here anyway.

Coriolanus momentarily stops his ministrations and removes his fingers from your wetness. He examines them, drenched in your juices. He licks his fingers clean  and can feel himself getting impossibly harder. You make him so hungry, he’s starved. He can’t hold himself any longer, he tells himself. Next time, he assures himself, he’ll take his time enjoying you. 

He quickly releases his length. It’s angry and red, begging for you. He huffs before finally removing your underwear. He contemplated stealing them before realizing he won’t need to after this. He quickly threw them somewhere and then he spread your legs. 

He touched his cock a few times, then proceeded to coat his length in his precum. He could feel his heart pounding and his breath quickening. He aligned himself with your entrance and slowly pushed in. You were tight, and he cursed to himself because he knew he should’ve taken more time preparing you. 

Once he was fully seethed inside of you, he took a moment and admired the blood on his cock. Pleased to know you hadn’t slept with that lousy Chiron guy, he slowly removed himself before shoving himself back inside of you. You were still whimpering like before, but now you wore a pained expression on your face. You could feel him. 

“I know it hurts right now, love. Bear with me.” he whispered, although he wasn’t sure if you could hear him or even comprehend what he was saying. 

Coriolanus could feel all the arousal pooling between the two of you. You weren’t as tight as you had been in the beginning. Now he could easily invade your gummy walls. If anything he wasn’t invading them because they sucked him back in. His lip twitched and he began to quicken his pace. After a particular thrust your body clenched around him and he let out a groan. “You like that, huh? You dirty slut.” 

He began to aim harder at the same place that had you clenching around his length. When you let out a mewl he decided to go even faster. You were such a mess. A beautiful mess, one that he created and one that he will clean up. 

The blond slid his hands behind your back and unclipped your bra. He quickly disposed of it and stared at your chest. Now you were fully exposed to him. He drank in the sight, no more secrets. He was going to memorize every freckle, every birthmark, every inch of your body by the end of tonight. 

Every thrust made your chest bounce and he couldn’t help but take the left one in his mouth while squeezing the other. He swirled his tongue around your nipple before sucking on it lightly. In his other hand he was rubbing your nipple. 

“C- Cor-”

He perked up, hearing your voice. You must be waking up. He removed his mouth from your mound, leaving a trail of his saliva, and looked at your face. You looked scared and for a second he felt bad. Then he reminded himself that you did this to yourself. In the long run, you’ll be thankful.

“Whats-” you furrowed your brows, clearly not fully awake. “What are you-”

He was quick to shush you. “Let me take care of you, okay?” He planted a kiss on your forehead, to which you tried your best to push him away. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t let your refusal be let off so lightly but you were just so weak. Instead he just took your wrists and pinned them above your head. 

“Be a good girl or I won’t let you cum. Understand?” He looked into your eyes and he could tell you were about to cry. Your eyes were glossed over and your face was red, from the sex or the need to cry–he wasn’t sure. 

After a mere second of eye contact you turned your head to the side. He growled, tired of your disobedience. He removed one of his hands from your wrists and moved it to your jaw. He forced you to look at him. 

“Keep your eyes on me,” your tears started falling and he quickened his pace, “I’m gonna take care of you.. I promise.” he wiped your cheek with his thumb. Out of lust–or fear–you nodded. He could tell you were gonna climax soon, so he removed his hand from your wrists and moved it to your clit doing circular motions. You started whimpering, holding back her moans, “Go on, moan my name.. Don’t be shy.” 

“C- Coriolanus,” he hummed, questioning. “Please.. Too much.” you begged.

He grinned in satisfaction and quickened his pace. You started to squeeze him more and he knew it was coming. You started to squirm, an unfamiliar feeling surely boiling in your lower abdomen. 

After a few moments longer you came undone. Coriolanus made sure to study the pure ecstasy on your face. The way your mouth opened, revealing the most gratifying moan. The way your eyes squinted, your senses became too much. It was all so lewd and he gave you no comfort in stopping his ministrations, opting to fuck you through it. He was searching for his own climax now while you were a moaning mess underneath him.

He leaned down to your ear, “I’m gonna feel you up so nice, put a baby in your womb. You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

You didn’t answer him, unable to not be a blubbering mess. He took the way your cunt sucked him in as an answer enough. 

There it was, the coiling feeling. He became erratic, chasing that all too familiar feeling of his high. Suddenly he was the moaning mess and not you. He examined your face, and noted that you were crying more than before and that sent him over edge. He spilled every drop of his seed into you. 

Then he stayed there and the world felt silent besides the two of you breathing. Everything felt surreal. 

His member was soft now, and he slowly removed himself from inside you. He pushed out the cum that was leaking out. Don’t want any of that getting lost, he thought.

He laid himself onto the bed next to you. He tried looking at you, only for you to turn the other direction. He sighed, understanding that you might need time to think about everything that’s happened. 

“You’ve ruined me, Coriolanus Snow.” you said, so tiny he wasn’t sure you even said it until you turned your head back to face him. 

“You’ve taken everything from me.” your face was tear stained and red. Your nose was runny and he just noticed that you were sniffling.

“Everything?”

You took a shaky breath. “My life, my fortune,  my future,” you closed your eyes, “my brother.”

To that his heart sank, and his eyes widened. It wasn’t often that Coriolanus felt bad, to be honest he still didn’t, but the look on your face told him he should. 

“I’m sorry.” he whispered, and reached out to wipe your tear-stained cheeks.

“Me too.”

[starsbies]

listen to hozier if you ever have a writers block

[starsbies]

It's Never Over

!Professor Gojo x fem Reader x best friend Itadori

modern law school au - TW. teacher x student, future dark content and nsfw

masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

When you imagined having your first kiss, you hadn’t imagined having it happen like this; being dared to ask a random, sleeping stranger if you could kiss them. But that’s what's happening right now. 

Some would say that it’s sad to be twenty-four and not yet having your first kiss. Others would congratulate you for saving it for someone special. You don’t know how you feel. The truth is you weren’t saving it for someone special, you just never had the opportunity to kiss someone.

That’s why when your best friend dared you to just kiss some random man on the beach, you agreed.

Slowly you approached the sleeping man. Thinking about how you would wake him, would you just tap him? Upon getting closer you started noticing how handsome he was. His hair was snow white, and his face was very defined. He wore glasses that covered his eyes, and although he was wearing a shirt you could tell he was very lean, and very fit.

When you were about a foot away from the man, you turned and looked at your friend. The pink-haired boy you called your best friend quietly cheered you on by giving you a thumbs up and mouthing “you got this!”  You gulped down your fear and finally tapped the man’s shoulder several times. 

“Sir?” you whispered, secretly hoping he wouldn’t wake up. He woke up.

 He rubbed his eyes from under his glasses before realizing you were standing there. “Hello? Do you need-”

“Can I kiss you?” You cut him off quickly, just to get it over with. You want him to say no, to call you weird. At the same time you want him to say yes and kiss you so you can finally say you’ve had your first kiss.

It’s silent. But, your mind is racing. Your mind is anything but silent and you want to turn and run back to Yuji. You should’ve never agreed to do this. After a few more moments of silence he finally speaks. “You want to kiss me?”

“Well I- my friend actually-”

It was his turn to cut you off now. “Your friend wants to kiss me?”

If you weren’t already so embarrassed you probably would’ve laughed at that. “No no, my friend uh- he told me to kiss you.”

The male’s face lifted at that, intrigued. “He did,” he slowly started to get up, and you realized how tall he is. “..did he?”

Now that he was towering over you, you had to look up to see him, making you feel even smaller than you had already felt. If you weren’t already flushed, you certainly were now. “Well.. I was dared.”

He looked around for a minute, looking for Yuji, you assume. “That guy? Pink hair?”

You nod your head.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Could this get any more embarrassing? “Of course not!” well not anymore “I think this was a mistake, sorry for waking you sir.”

You start turning to walk away and get a glimpse of Yuji, he’s closely watching and gives you a disappointed look when you face him. Suddenly the man grabs your wrist and pulls you back in. You open your mouth to protest but he kisses you. 

One hand still on your wrist, his other goes to cup your cheek. The kiss is hungry, like he’s starved. You don’t know what to do. Eventually you start moving your mouth to match his open mouth kisses. The hand that was on your wrist slowly starts moving up your arm to cup your other cheek. His tongue starts to go inside your mouth and attacks yours. You let out a small groan and he bites your bottom lip.

Suddenly remembering that Yuji was watching, you remove yourself from the man. Your breathing was heavy and you wiped your lips. You manage to whisper out a little thanks before running back to Yuji without waiting for the white haired man to respond. You weren’t surprised by the look on Yuji’s face. Pure shock. 

“You actually did it.” 

You don’t know what’s more embarrassing. Asking a stranger if you can kiss them or having your best friend, and ex-crush watch.

“Yeah.. I think we should leave.” you turned back one last time to see the guy you just made out with but he was gone. How could he leave so quickly?

“Yeah good call, classes start tomorrow so we shouldn’t be out so late. I’ll walk you to your dorm?”

You couldn’t sleep. How could you? As if starting your first day of law school wasn’t already consuming your mind, the kiss from the beach was also simultaneously consuming your mind. 

Currently it’s seven in the morning and your roommate is still sleeping. You met her on move-in day. Her name was Nobara and she had gorgeous ginger hair. She was very confident and outgoing, but also soft and kind. The kind of girl you could tell your whole life story to.

You decided that since you aren’t going to get any sleep you might as well start getting ready. Today you only had two classes and you want to look approachable. Especially since you only have two friends. As expected, you had very prominent eye bags so you made sure to pack on lots of makeup. 

Your first class, legal education, starts at nine. Luckily you had that class with your pink-haired best friend. Unluckily, you told him that you’d meet him for breakfast and it’s already eight. You didn’t even realize an hour went by just doing your hair and makeup. 

You quickly threw on an outfit and texted Itadori to meet you in the cafeteria. He texted back saying he was already there. You sighed before running, or speed walking, to the cafeteria. As expected, it was pretty packed. It wasn’t too hard to spot your friend who was sitting at a table with people you weren’t familiar with. You made your way to the table and took an empty seat across from Itadori. 

“Hey! Took you long enough, I saved you something.” he said while revealing a blueberry muffin.

You graciously took it after thanking him. As you enjoyed the muffin, Itadori introduced you to the people he met. To his left was a dark haired girl named Maki and to her left was a dark haired boy named Megumi. To Itadori’s right was a white-haired boy named Inumaki. You noted how quiet the two guys were compared to Itadori and Maki. 

Suddenly Itadori stood up, “Shoot, it’s almost nine. We need to go.” 

You nodded and said your goodbyes before practically sprinting to find your class. Unfortunately you two were late. 

The classroom* was pretty small. Instead of desks there were four half-circle tables. All the seats had been taken besides one in the front, and one in the middle. You really didn’t want to take the one in the front, but Yuji was so nice to save you a muffin you volunteered to take it. Although the two of you had been about five minutes late, the professor had still yet to arrive. After a while everyone started whispering, wondering when the professor would show up.

 Then the door opened and everyone went silent. “Sorry I’m late students.”

That voice.

White hair, tall and lean build, he was even wearing the same glasses. It couldn’t be, could it? Your thoughts were going a million miles a second. You turned to look at Yuji but he was already looking at you. It was him. The man from the beach.

When you turned back around he was looking at you. He definitely knew who you were. 

He cleared his throat before addressing the class. “My name is Satoru Gojo but you will call me Professor Gojo, or just Professor.” Then he walked up to the whiteboard and wrote The Law is Reason Free from Passion. “Does anyone know who spoke those words?”

Of course you knew. It was Aristotle. Everyone knew this.

“Nobody?” he asked, looking around the classroom before his eyes landed on you. “What about you, miss?”

God, why me? You thought.

“It was Aristotle, sir.” you spoke.

He smirked. “It’s Professor.”

“Sorry, Professor.” you felt like you were on fire. You’re not sure how much more embarrassment you could go through. 

After what felt like eternity he spoke again “Are you sure it’s Aristotle?”

Of course you were. 

“One hundred percent, Professor.”

He went quiet, and started approaching you. You were suddenly very thankful for the table. “Would you stake your life on that?”

“Yes, Professor.”

He smiled, not in a kind way. Like he was challenging you. “What about his life?” and he pointed towards Yuji. 

Now you’re starting to doubt yourself. You knew if you said yes nothing would actually happen, but it just didn’t sit right in your stomach. You looked back towards Yuji and he gave you an affirming nod. 

“I think so, Professor.”

His smile only grew. “You think? I recommend knowing before speaking.”

Shame is the closest word to describe what you feel. 

Gojo finally started walking back to the front of the class, the look on his face showing nothing but pride and content. “Well, you’d be right about Aristotle. Congrats on your life and the boy’s.”

It wasn’t hard to decide that you hated your professor.

*what I imagined the classroom to look like

beginning is loosely based off Ingrid Ochoa's "The Kiss Bet" on Webtoon

also classroom scene is inspired by a scene from Legally Blonde!

not proofread so feel free to comment on any mistakes or feedback!

[starsbies]

It's Never Over Masterlist

When a silly dare on the beach kinda ruins your life

one.

two.

three.

[starsbies]

It's Never Over

!Professor Gojo x fem Reader x best friend Itadori

modern law school au - TW. teacher x student, future dark content and nsfw

masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

When you imagined having your first kiss, you hadn’t imagined having it happen like this; being dared to ask a random, sleeping stranger if you could kiss them. But that’s what's happening right now. 

Some would say that it’s sad to be twenty-four and not yet having your first kiss. Others would congratulate you for saving it for someone special. You don’t know how you feel. The truth is you weren’t saving it for someone special, you just never had the opportunity to kiss someone.

That’s why when your best friend dared you to just kiss some random man on the beach, you agreed.

Slowly you approached the sleeping man. Thinking about how you would wake him, would you just tap him? Upon getting closer you started noticing how handsome he was. His hair was snow white, and his face was very defined. He wore glasses that covered his eyes, and although he was wearing a shirt you could tell he was very lean, and very fit.

When you were about a foot away from the man, you turned and looked at your friend. The pink-haired boy you called your best friend quietly cheered you on by giving you a thumbs up and mouthing “you got this!”  You gulped down your fear and finally tapped the man’s shoulder several times. 

“Sir?” you whispered, secretly hoping he wouldn’t wake up. He woke up.

 He rubbed his eyes from under his glasses before realizing you were standing there. “Hello? Do you need-”

“Can I kiss you?” You cut him off quickly, just to get it over with. You want him to say no, to call you weird. At the same time you want him to say yes and kiss you so you can finally say you’ve had your first kiss.

It’s silent. But, your mind is racing. Your mind is anything but silent and you want to turn and run back to Yuji. You should’ve never agreed to do this. After a few more moments of silence he finally speaks. “You want to kiss me?”

“Well I- my friend actually-”

It was his turn to cut you off now. “Your friend wants to kiss me?”

If you weren’t already so embarrassed you probably would’ve laughed at that. “No no, my friend uh- he told me to kiss you.”

The male’s face lifted at that, intrigued. “He did,” he slowly started to get up, and you realized how tall he is. “..did he?”

Now that he was towering over you, you had to look up to see him, making you feel even smaller than you had already felt. If you weren’t already flushed, you certainly were now. “Well.. I was dared.”

He looked around for a minute, looking for Yuji, you assume. “That guy? Pink hair?”

You nod your head.

“You like him, don’t you?”

Could this get any more embarrassing? “Of course not!” well not anymore “I think this was a mistake, sorry for waking you sir.”

You start turning to walk away and get a glimpse of Yuji, he’s closely watching and gives you a disappointed look when you face him. Suddenly the man grabs your wrist and pulls you back in. You open your mouth to protest but he kisses you. 

One hand still on your wrist, his other goes to cup your cheek. The kiss is hungry, like he’s starved. You don’t know what to do. Eventually you start moving your mouth to match his open mouth kisses. The hand that was on your wrist slowly starts moving up your arm to cup your other cheek. His tongue starts to go inside your mouth and attacks yours. You let out a small groan and he bites your bottom lip.

Suddenly remembering that Yuji was watching, you remove yourself from the man. Your breathing was heavy and you wiped your lips. You manage to whisper out a little thanks before running back to Yuji without waiting for the white haired man to respond. You weren’t surprised by the look on Yuji’s face. Pure shock. 

“You actually did it.” 

You don’t know what’s more embarrassing. Asking a stranger if you can kiss them or having your best friend, and ex-crush watch.

“Yeah.. I think we should leave.” you turned back one last time to see the guy you just made out with but he was gone. How could he leave so quickly?

“Yeah good call, classes start tomorrow so we shouldn’t be out so late. I’ll walk you to your dorm?”

You couldn’t sleep. How could you? As if starting your first day of law school wasn’t already consuming your mind, the kiss from the beach was also simultaneously consuming your mind. 

Currently it’s seven in the morning and your roommate is still sleeping. You met her on move-in day. Her name was Nobara and she had gorgeous ginger hair. She was very confident and outgoing, but also soft and kind. The kind of girl you could tell your whole life story to.

You decided that since you aren’t going to get any sleep you might as well start getting ready. Today you only had two classes and you want to look approachable. Especially since you only have two friends. As expected, you had very prominent eye bags so you made sure to pack on lots of makeup. 

Your first class, legal education, starts at nine. Luckily you had that class with your pink-haired best friend. Unluckily, you told him that you’d meet him for breakfast and it’s already eight. You didn’t even realize an hour went by just doing your hair and makeup. 

You quickly threw on an outfit and texted Itadori to meet you in the cafeteria. He texted back saying he was already there. You sighed before running, or speed walking, to the cafeteria. As expected, it was pretty packed. It wasn’t too hard to spot your friend who was sitting at a table with people you weren’t familiar with. You made your way to the table and took an empty seat across from Itadori. 

“Hey! Took you long enough, I saved you something.” he said while revealing a blueberry muffin.

You graciously took it after thanking him. As you enjoyed the muffin, Itadori introduced you to the people he met. To his left was a dark haired girl named Maki and to her left was a dark haired boy named Megumi. To Itadori’s right was a white-haired boy named Inumaki. You noted how quiet the two guys were compared to Itadori and Maki. 

Suddenly Itadori stood up, “Shoot, it’s almost nine. We need to go.” 

You nodded and said your goodbyes before practically sprinting to find your class. Unfortunately you two were late. 

The classroom* was pretty small. Instead of desks there were four half-circle tables. All the seats had been taken besides one in the front, and one in the middle. You really didn’t want to take the one in the front, but Yuji was so nice to save you a muffin you volunteered to take it. Although the two of you had been about five minutes late, the professor had still yet to arrive. After a while everyone started whispering, wondering when the professor would show up.

 Then the door opened and everyone went silent. “Sorry I’m late students.”

That voice.

White hair, tall and lean build, he was even wearing the same glasses. It couldn’t be, could it? Your thoughts were going a million miles a second. You turned to look at Yuji but he was already looking at you. It was him. The man from the beach.

When you turned back around he was looking at you. He definitely knew who you were. 

He cleared his throat before addressing the class. “My name is Satoru Gojo but you will call me Professor Gojo, or just Professor.” Then he walked up to the whiteboard and wrote The Law is Reason Free from Passion. “Does anyone know who spoke those words?”

Of course you knew. It was Aristotle. Everyone knew this.

“Nobody?” he asked, looking around the classroom before his eyes landed on you. “What about you, miss?”

God, why me? You thought.

“It was Aristotle, sir.” you spoke.

He smirked. “It’s Professor.”

“Sorry, Professor.” you felt like you were on fire. You’re not sure how much more embarrassment you could go through. 

After what felt like eternity he spoke again “Are you sure it’s Aristotle?”

Of course you were. 

“One hundred percent, Professor.”

He went quiet, and started approaching you. You were suddenly very thankful for the table. “Would you stake your life on that?”

“Yes, Professor.”

He smiled, not in a kind way. Like he was challenging you. “What about his life?” and he pointed towards Yuji. 

Now you’re starting to doubt yourself. You knew if you said yes nothing would actually happen, but it just didn’t sit right in your stomach. You looked back towards Yuji and he gave you an affirming nod. 

“I think so, Professor.”

His smile only grew. “You think? I recommend knowing before speaking.”

Shame is the closest word to describe what you feel. 

Gojo finally started walking back to the front of the class, the look on his face showing nothing but pride and content. “Well, you’d be right about Aristotle. Congrats on your life and the boy’s.”

It wasn’t hard to decide that you hated your professor.

*what I imagined the classroom to look like

beginning is loosely based off Ingrid Ochoa's "The Kiss Bet" on Webtoon

also classroom scene is inspired by a scene from Legally Blonde!

not proofread so feel free to comment on any mistakes or feedback!