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#and suddenly it’s looking you in the face
cute-sucker · 2 days
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rafe was a sweetheart.
there was nothing you could do but admire all that he did for you. he was sweet in the way that he made sure you were okay, heavy hand across your waist as if he was your anchor.
you liked the way that he was causally sweet, something that you knew you could never explain, yet the fact that he left ice cream in tanyhill for you, or gently put you to bed when you had one too many shots.
he was gentle when taking care of you, calloused hand wiping your slobber, as you ached to be closer to him. sometimes he was annoyed with you, eyebrows raised as you tried to sit in his lap.
“what are you doing sweets? tryna get your makeup off,” he muttered, firmly trying to get you get sit back down. you groaned, pawing at his chest as his hands travelled to your cheeks with a cotton pad.
he coughed, “c’mon, don’t do that.”
you grin again his chest, wiggling closer to him. “do wha-”
finally, he pulled you up again, a firm look on his face as he shook his finger in your face. your reaction was to stumble, giggling harder while holding your stomach, before stopping
rafe’s finger stopped moving around your back, to gently look at your face, thick finger tapping on your face, “hey? lemme clean up for you.” 
you stilled letting him graze his hands on your face. you closed your eyes, mouth open as you tried to stay awake. rafe had a pleased look on his face as he watched you drowsily stay awake.
“awww, look at you,” he finally cooed, rough hands cupping your face. “little pup couldn’t stay awake.”
you didn’t reply, pretty much read asleep, munching on the tag on his shirt. finally, he picked you up, a short grunt falling from his lips before putting you in bed.
his gentle hands fixed your head, arranging you to sleep comfortably, and placing a quilt to tuck you in. he let out a soft sigh before sitting down next to you. your chest rose and fell, soft sighs escaping your mouth.
suddenly you peeled open your sleepy eyes, hands reaching out for rafe, “rafey? come sleep with me,” you muttered, rolling over to be closer to him, trying to tuck your head in the hollow of his collarbone. rafe groaned before letting you wrap your lithe hands around his chest.  
that night rafe had the best sleep he’d had in years.
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evansbby · 2 days
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𝐖𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟒☆.。.:*
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𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐈𝐕 - 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐲 𝐍𝐮𝐦𝐛
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: mean jock!Ari Levinson x naive!reader, mean jock!Steve Rogers x naive reader
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smutt, dubcon, daddy!kink, size difference, innocence kink, HEAVY MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND DRUG CONSUMPTION, mentions of depression, mentions of self-medication, seriously, if you're sensitive about that kind of stuff please do not read, 18+ only, minors dni!
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You're done with both Ari and Steve. But they're not quite done with you...
𝐀/𝐍: Here it is. Again, I'm putting up a disclaimer: Please beware of the strong mentions of irresponsible alcohol and drug consumption in this chapter. Also be aware of the depictions of depression in this chapter. Stay safe & only read what you are comfortable with. This is a dark story. This is chapter 4 of Wicked Games. It is 33.6k words. Enjoy, besties!
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Steve: Hey. Look, I’m really sorry about what happened yesterday. Things got out of control and I really did not mean to scare you. Could we talk in person?
Steve: I did plan a date for us. I know you don’t believe me, but I did. For whatever that’s worth. Look, just text me back, okay? Or answer my calls.
Steve: Sometimes I just get like that. Even if you don’t understand, just reply and say you’ll talk to me. I’ll explain everything. Please.
Steve: Can’t you see I’m trying? I want us to work.
Steve: It wasn’t just about sex to me. I know that’s what it looked like but it wasn’t.
Steve: ?????
Each time your phone pings with a new text, you feel a stronger urge to just throw it out the window. Oh, why couldn’t he just leave you alone? You feel awful and on edge, the night’s sleep had done you absolutely no good. You’d tossed and turned the whole time, crying and feeling sad about how terribly your “date” had gone down yesterday. How you’d been used. How it was all just about sex for him, no matter what he claimed.
Your phone starts pinging again.
Ari: Are you okay?
Ari: You need to tell me exactly what he did to you. I’ll set him straight, I promise. I just need to know what he did.
Ari: You were really worked up yesterday so I gave you your space but I’m worried. And pissed off. Just answer me.
Ari: Pick up your phone.
Ari: I’m coming over.
No, no, no. You don’t want him to come over. You don’t want to see either of them. To hell with their mood swings and cocky egos and fake concern for you. Now you know there was only one thing that men like Ari and Steve truly ever wanted from you – sex. Fuck them both. If Ari came over now, you’d scream your head off and not let him in again.
You were done. Completely and irrevocably done. Not just with Ari and Steve, but with men and relationships in general. You were going to make a solemn vow to yourself that from now on, that–
A sudden knocking on your door interrupts your thoughts. Pressing your lips into a thin line, you feel the anger surge through you. Who the fuck was that? Ari? He’d only just sent his last message a minute ago – how was he already here?
A wave of anxiety overtakes you suddenly… What if it was Steve?
Another knock. But it sounds a lot softer than Ari’s usual loud banging – which was what he did on days where he’d forget your dorm key at home.
“Y/N?” You hear a faint, familiar voice from the other side of the door. “Are you there?”
Huh. That was definitely not Steve or Ari…
It takes you about five seconds to haul yourself off your bed and across the room. You open the door cautiously, only to find Sharon standing there. Her face is swollen, red and blotchy, her shiny and usually pristinely styled hair scraped back in a low, sad ponytail. Not a trace of makeup on her face, and she’s wearing a loose, wrinkled St. Andrews sweatshirt instead of her usual cheerleading uniform.
“Ari broke up with me!” She bursts into tears, pulling you into a hug that you have no choice but to return. And the guilt is immediate, spreading throughout your body, thrumming through your bloodstream along with dread. Of course, you knew Ari had dumped her… for you.
“Oh, Sharon…” you mumble against her sweatshirt, a huge lump forming in your throat, “I’m so, so sorry.” Sorrier than you realise…
Sharon sniffles, “I know we’re not really close, but I just didn’t know who else to talk to about this. All my friends are also his friends, or girlfriends of his friends, and…and…and I just needed someone who was my friend, and not his, and–” She breaks out into a fresh wave of tears, hugging you tightly again, burying her face in your neck as she cries. You awkwardly pat her shoulder, feeling like the world’s worst person.
“Come in,” you say reluctantly. Sure, you had your own problems, but you weren’t just going to leave her crying out in the hallway, were you? Especially not since you were basically the reason for her tears.
She smiles weakly, “Thank you.”
You manage to quickly type out a message to Ari while she isn’t looking:
Sharon’s here. Don’t come over. And stop texting me.
“It just came so out of nowhere,” she says, following you into your room and sitting on the edge of your bed, “Well, we weren’t having sex like how we used to but I just assumed he was stressed about basketball or something.”
“Wait, the two of you weren’t having sex?” You blurt out a tad too eagerly, but she doesn’t seem to notice. You sink down beside her, “I mean… wow… so you guys weren’t being – uh – intimate?”
Sharon shakes her head, using the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe her eyes, “Not for, like, the past month. But I really didn’t think he was cheating on me… But he basically told me he was dumping me because there was someone else.”
Your heart jumps up to your throat, “H-He said that?”
“Yeah. Well, at first, he kept saying the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ crap.” She snorts, aggressively twining a loose strand of her blonde hair round and round her pointer finger, “But I told him to be honest and just tell me straight up, and I was yelling and so upset and finally he said that there was someone else. Can you believe that?”
Your hands feel clammy, the guilt and anxiety churning around in your stomach like a witch’s cauldron. Should you tell her now? Tell her that you’re the reason her boyfriend dumped her? That you’d been sleeping with Ari behind her back for months? Oh God… You were an awful person, weren’t you? Well, you hadn’t known about Sharon at first… and back then you were innocent enough to believe Ari when he said he’d broken up with her. But you’d wisened up to that and still had sex with him at the party, hadn’t you?
You gulp, “Sharon, there’s something–”
“And can you believe that for a split second I thought it was you?” She says suddenly, her eyes wide and unblinking.
Your blood freezes, “I, I–”
“I know, I know… Totally ridiculous, right?” She laughs. And you��d expected her laugh to be all cute and twinkly and perfect how she is, but it’s low and hoarse and ironic. She squeezes your arm, “I hate that my mind even went there. I don’t know you that well but I just know you wouldn’t do that to me, Y/N.”
“Sharon–”
 “It’s just that one time, at that basketball practice when the ball hit your face. The way Ari carried you off… I just got this feeling in my gut, you know?” She laughs again, “But that was just Ari being Ari, stepping up and taking charge of a situation when no one else would. And it’s awful of me to even think you’d do something like that when you’d just got struck in the face and were probably in a lot of pain. Gosh, I’m so sorry for even thinking it!”
She hugs you again. You can smell her sweet perfume, and it goes straight to your head, making you feel sick. Or maybe it’s the guilt eating away at your insides that’s making you feel sick.
“There’s something I have to tell you–”
“–We were together for almost a whole year, you know?” Sharon cuts you off again. “I was gonna take him home for Thanksgiving and everything.” She’s still hugging you, and her cheek rests against the bare nape of your neck. You weren’t used to being this touchy with your girlfriends, but you continue to pat her back nonetheless, feeling like the world’s most awful person ever.
“He’s just the world’s most awful person ever!” She cries, “Like he threw our relationship away like it was nothing! And I was so good to him, Y/N!”
“I know, I know,” you say softly. You feel a wave of disgust for Ari overtake you, but the disgust you feel at yourself overshadows it completely.
“But maybe it’s for the best,” She sits up suddenly, her eyes wide and glistening, an almost daring look on her face, your hand still encased in hers. “Maybe me and Ari weren’t meant to be, and he was just a stupid phase in my life.”
“He’s just a fuckboy,” you agree truthfully, despite feeling rotten over your role in all of this. “You can do so much better than him, Sharon.”
She nods, “Yeah, I think so too. I mean, he’s super hot and all, but…” And then she pauses, looking at you with a curious expression. She bites her lip, still holding on to your hand. “Maybe this is too much information, but lately, even when I was, you know, taking care of myself… I wouldn’t think of him. I’d think of someone else.”
“That’s good!” You say enthusiastically. “Who were you thinking of? Like an actor or singer or something? Or a cute guy in one of your classes?”
She stares at you a bit longer, before suddenly dropping her gaze, “Yeah, something like that. Anyways, thank you so much for being there for me, Y/N. I know I just barged into your room unannounced.”
At that moment, your phone vibrates. Once, twice, three times. More texts. You’re thankful you left your phone facedown; in case they were from Ari and she saw.
“That’s probably Steve, isn’t it?” Sharon says.
You nod quickly, suddenly in a hurry to stop talking about Ari, “Yeah. They’re all from him. He’s been texting me nonstop since last night when me and him had a fight.”
“Oh no. Is everything gonna be okay?”
You shake your head tersely, not wanting to talk about the disastrous date. “No. Me and him are over. Forever.” And so are me and Ari.
Sharon nods, giving you another hug. “Men are trash. I’m so glad we have each other, Y/N. I’m so happy we’re friends now.”
You swallow harshly, hoping the guilt isn’t so evident on your face. Inside your head, there’s about a million different thoughts racing each other. Should you tell her about Ari now? Or wait till later when she was more distanced from the situation and less distraught? Oh God, it was like problems followed you wherever you went! First Steve, then Ari, and now Sharon was in the mix too. And the worst part was, how kind she was being. How genuinely good she was and how she didn’t deserve to be lied to in the least.
I’ll tell her, you promise yourself. I swear I’ll tell her soon…
***
“You need to stop moping around so much,” Wanda says as the two of you walk down the corridor after a lecture. Well, she walks. You just drag your feet. It’s been two days since the “date” with Steve and the subsequent scene with Sharon in your dorm room, and your emotions have been all over the place.
“Like okay, so the Steve thing didn’t work out. It’s not the end of the world, is it? Just get over it.” Wanda continues scanning the crowd of people in the hallway.
“I just feel like nobody wants a relationship with me, Wanda.” You say softly. “All they ever seem to want is sex.”
“Huh? Yeah, that really sucks,” she says distractedly, standing on her tip-toes to look over the sea of heads all milling around or heading to their next class. “Where’s Curtis? He agreed to meet me here.”
Your stomach drops. Curtis again? Oh, you hope Ari’s not with him! You’d successfully been able to avoid him since the night he’d left your dorm room, and you didn’t want to break that streak now.
Wanda spots her boyfriend a moment later and squeals, jumping up and down trying to get his attention. Thankfully, he isn’t with Ari. But he is standing in a cosy corner of the corridor, deep in conversation with a tiny brunette cheerleader. You watch as she laughs at something he said and puts her hand on his chest.
You glance warily at Wanda, but she still has that determined bright smile on her face as she charges over to him, pulling you along with her.
“Curtis! Hey!” She wraps her arms around his neck territorially, plastering her lips on his. The cheerleader smirks, and you see her wink at him before she leaves. Only then does Curtis finally give his girlfriend some attention. You stand there, awkwardly staring at your shoes for the next five minutes while they noisily kiss next to you.
“You still in a bad mood, sweetheart?” Curtis grins once the two of them finally break apart.
“She’s always in a bad mood,” Wanda interjects before you can respond, “Hey, Curtis, you wanna check out the new drive-in theatre downtown? I don’t have any more classes today and I know you don’t either.”
Curtis yawns, “I don’t know. I kinda just wanna chill today.”
“Oh. That’s fine too, I guess. You wanna just grab lunch on campus?”
“Nah. I think I’ll just head back home. I have stuff to do.”
Wanda nods, “Okay, can I come too?”
He shrugs, “Sure. If you must.”
They start towards the exit, and you have no choice but to follow them. But when Wanda stops to talk to one of the girls in her Philosophy class, Curtis shoots you a smirk.
“Sweetheart, why don’t you come back to my place too?”
You frown, “What would I do in your room with you and Wanda?”
The spark in his eye is nothing short of devilish, “I could think of a few things the three of us could get up to.”
“You’re disgusting, Curtis.”
“You sure about that? I have some more of those magic pills you’re such a huge fan of. The three of us could have some fun.” His eyes rake over your body brazenly, and you feel the urge to throw up. So, it was true. All men viewed you as an easy hook-up. A slut. Ari, Steve, now Curtis too.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Wanda is your girlfriend and you should have more respect for her.”
He rolls his eyes, “You’re one to talk about respecting girlfriends.”
The jab stings, especially since it has a ring of truth to it. But you glare up at him nonetheless, “Fuck you.”
“Are you and Ari both perpetually in a bad mood these days or what?”
“I’m not speaking to Ari, so I wouldn’t know what kind of mood he’s in.” You answer curtly.
“He’s in a shitty mood, I’ll tell you that much,” Curtis snorts. “You’d think he’d be over the fucking moon after finally dumping Sharon, but now all he does is glare at his phone because you won’t answer his texts.”
Sure, Ari had been continuously texting and calling you for the past two days, but you’d gotten better at ignoring him. The last text you’d sent him was when you’d told him not to come over because Sharon was there.
“Are we ready to go, babe?” Wanda asks, waving goodbye to the girl from her Philosophy class.
Curtis stretches and grunts, “Yeah, let’s go,” He looks over at you, “You need a lift to wherever you’re headed?”
“No, she doesn’t!” Wanda interjects quickly, grabbing his hand and tugging him towards the exit impatiently, “You wanted to be alone, didn’t you, Y/N?”
You shrug, “Sure.”
Watching them leave hand in hand, you stand there in a sea of people – and yet you feel more alone than ever. You know you need to snap out of this funk, but it’s so hard. Even now, as you look around, you can see about five different couples. All happily hanging out, talking, eating lunch together, kissing, holding hands. Would you ever experience anything normal like that?
You’re about to leave when someone grabs your wrist, yanking you sideways. You yelp, barely catching a glimpse of Ari’s brown waves before you’re pulled into an empty corridor.
“Ari! What the fuck–”
“Stop it with the ignoring my texts shit!” He spits out, eyes already blazing, “I’ve been worried sick about you.”
“Let go of me.”
Surprisingly, he does. But he blocks your path with his huge frame, stepping in front of you every time you try to push past him. This continues for a solid minute and a half before you finally huff and give up trying to escape.
“I went to see Steve that night.” Ari says finally.
Your stomach churns at the mention of the blonde’s name.
“I don’t want to hear this.”
“He wasn’t at home. And the other guys in his frat wouldn’t say where he was,” he runs a hand through his hair, “But I’m guessing he was probably hiding out at his parent’s house.”
That was exactly where he was. You knew that.
“Please tell me you didn’t go there.”
Ari regards you closely, as if you’re made out of glass and he’s trying to formulate his sentences as carefully as he can. “I didn’t,” he says finally, sighing, “I was about to, but–”
“Good,” you interrupt, “I don’t need you fighting him or whatever. Not on my behalf.” You narrow your eyes, “How do you even know where his parents’ house is?”
He hesitates, “I don’t know off the top of my head, but I would’ve found out.” He grabs your hands, his blue eyes looking earnest, which is a look you aren’t used to seeing on him at all. “He’s clearly avoiding me, but look, the sooner you tell me what exactly happened between you and him, the sooner I’ll deal with it.”
From over his shoulder, you see a group of cheerleaders walk by. In a panic, you snatch your hands away from him. Was Sharon with them? Had she seen you with him? No. She wasn’t there. And yet now you feel more paranoid than ever.
“We can’t do this, Ari,” you mutter, trying to sidestep him again, “We can’t be seen together now or ever again, so just move so I can leave–”
“No.”
“Yes!” you try not to explode or lose your patience, “This isn’t right, okay? You and me, we’re not right. Sharon doesn’t deserve us going behind her back, she doesn’t–”
“I told you, I broke up with her.”
“That doesn’t make any of this okay, so just move!”
He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your arm again, tugging you somewhere deep into the corridor before you have a chance to stop him or finish your sentence. And he’s too strong to fight against, so you don’t even try it. The last thing you want is to put any more attention on you or him. Even if Sharon wasn’t around, one of her friends could see you with him and report back to her. And after everything that happened with you and Sharon, you wanted to come clean to her yourself, rather than have her hear about you sleeping with her boyfriend behind her back from somebody else.
“The supply closet? Really, Ari?” You plant your hands on your hips, watching as he shuts and locks the door of the dimly lit room.
He shrugs, “If it’ll get you to stop running away from me...”
“Well, why can’t you just get the message? I’m running for a reason.” You try to push past him, but the closet is way too small to allow that type of movement. He easily grabs your waist and lifts you back in front of him, making you scowl. “Look, I don’t know what you expected would happen between us when you dumped Sharon, I already told you we’re done. She doesn’t deserve this.”
Ari has the audacity to look confused, “Since when do you care about her?”
“Since I developed a brain and realised what we did behind her back for months was wrong!” You explode, hating the fact that you have to spell this out for him. “You know that she came to my dorm room the day after you dumped her? She was a mess, Ari! All because of us, and she doesn’t even know it!”
 He sighs, “If you want, I could come clean to her and tell her it was you who I was sleeping with. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, it’s my problem, anyways.”
“No, you don’t say anything, Ari! I’m going to tell her myself.” Soon.
“Okay, but trust me, don’t worry about her too much. She’s a strong girl, she’ll bounce back.”
You stare at him incredulously. Strong girl? Bounce back? Oh, he was infuriating!
“Whatever, Ari.” You mutter, once more trying to push past him but he places you back in front of him with such ease that it’s almost comical.
“What happened to you that day with Steve?” He asks again, his brow furrowed.
“It’s none of your business.”
He scoffs, folding his arms over his chest. “You came home in tears with your dress all torn up and you expect me to just go about my business as if all that was nothing?”
“Yes. It shouldn’t be too hard for you considering you’ve left me in tears yourself a couple of times.” You think back to the frat party, how he’d left you drunk, high and in tears in the bathroom. By the guilt that flashes in Ari’s eyes, he remembers too.
“I told you I was sorry about that.”
You shrug, “Whatever. It doesn’t matter anyways. You used me, and Steve used me too.” Your voice almost breaks but you clear your throat quickly, not wanting to cry in front of him.
“What do you mean Steve used you?” Ari grabs your shoulders with a note of urgency. “Did he do something you didn’t want to do? Did he fuck you? Goddamit, I told you not to speak to him!”
Shaking out of his grasp, you feel another flash of anger. The same flash you’d felt surge through you the night you’d kicked Ari out of your dorm room. A part of you wants to start yelling and screaming again, but you know you can’t do that here.
“What does it matter, anyways?” You snap, feeling the walls building up around you. Half of you wants to scream and the other half wants to curl up and cry. The two emotions swirl inside you like a whirlpool, making you feel lightheaded.
A handful of seconds go by and all Ari does is stare at you. You can hear him breathing hard, almost erratically, as if deciding his next move. Finally, he bends down so his face is level with yours, his hands leaving your shoulders to cup your cheeks instead. His eyes, so bright blue despite the dark mustiness of the supply closet, bore into yours so intensely.
“Did. He. Fuck. You?”
“No.”
“Did he hurt you?”
You don’t answer, instead staring at the dark nothingness beyond Ari’s shoulder. Maybe if you focused on it hard enough, you could dissociate and float away from this situation. Float away from anyone else who could hurt you or use you or manipulate you. Float away from the guilt, the shame, the sadness, all of it.
Instead, you feel the wind being knocked out of you as Ari roughly pushes you against what feels like a shelf. The wooden edges poke against your back, and your mouth curls in pain.
“Listen to me. I’m not fucking around anymore, okay? You need to tell me what happened right fucking now.” Ari growls, his face inches from yours. It seems like someone’s ignited a fire in his eyes, twin fires – one burning bright in each eye, and you can practically feel the heat of his anger radiating from his being.
“You’re hurting me!” You cry out pitifully.
Like a hot poker, Ari drops you immediately, regret seeping through his features before he takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just…” He pauses, and for a second his whole face screws up and contorts, like he’s inwardly examining every corner of his brain to conjure up the right thing to say. “Look, I care about you. A lot. And these past two days have been torture, knowing that he did something to you and I couldn’t protect you.”
He sounds sincere, but you know it’s all an act. He doesn’t mean it, he’s only trying to be nice so he can have sex with you later, the voice inside your head cackles.
“So just tell me what he did, and I’ll–”
 “WHAT PART OF IT DO YOU WANT TO KNOW, ARI?” You burst, “What part of the whole ugly thing would you like me to relive first? The part where he promised he’d take me out on a date but he took me to his bedroom instead?” You duck your head in shame, “I suppose I should be used to that by now, but I was stupid enough to let myself hope.”
Ari draws his breath but stays silent.
“Or would you rather I tell you everything he said? Down to the last fucking detail? How he basically implied that I was the world’s biggest slut?” This time, you can’t keep the tears at bay. “H-He said… He said I should stop acting like a nun because I had no problem with you fucking me at the party!”
You don’t mention the part where Steve had also said you’d had no problem spreading your legs for Steve too the night of the party. You have yet to come to terms with and address that little detail, and so you push it back to the depths of your mind for now. Ari couldn’t know about that, not when you didn’t know yourself.
Instead, your face crumples up, and before you realise it, you’re heaving with tears. Waterfalls pouring down your cheeks as you cry and cry. You don’t even notice Ari picking you up, you don’t notice him sitting down on a nearby stool and holding you in his lap. Carefully holding your head against his chest, rocking you back and forth as his other hand rubs up and down your back.
So much for all your bravado, so much for keeping up a strong front and resisting Ari at all costs. Here you were again, crying in his arms like you always ended up doing.
“H-He was so awful!” you sob, burying your head deep in Ari’s shirt, inhaling the manly scent of his aftershave, and it calms your hurting heart a little bit. But not enough. “He said all these mean things, and he…he wouldn’t stop, Ari! I k-kept saying no, but he wouldn’t listen at all! It was like something came over him!”
You fist the soft material of Ari’s jersey, taking comfort in the feel of his strong arms wrapped tightly around you. His familiar, manly scent and his soft hair tickling your face as he holds you carefully against him. And despite everything, you can’t help but note how strange this is. Of course, Ari had held you while you cried about a dozen times – but this seemed different. For one, he wasn’t cooing sweet manipulations into your ear. He was just… silent. You risk peaking up at him through teary eyes, to see him looking straight ahead with a grim look on his face, the beginnings of a sneer forming on his lips.
“It’s okay,” Ari says softly, his voice sounding thick as if there’s something stuck in his throat. Was this what true, earnest sympathy sounded like coming from him? Or was it all just an act? You’re too busy crying and seeking solace in his warm chest to really mull it over, and the beefy basketball player continues to stroke your back, “It’s okay, baby. He won’t hurt you anymore. I promise he won’t.”
“JUST SAY IT ALREADY! Just say ‘I told you so!’” You sob, “He didn’t care about me at all, Ari! Just like you said. He was just using me. He just wanted sex, or to get back at you, or both!”
He doesn’t say I told you so. Instead, his lips press down on top of your head, kissing you gently. And you know you should push him away, but you reason with yourself to hold on to him just for a little bit longer. Just till you felt a little bit better. Was that so wrong?
“He won’t hurt you again,” Ari repeats firmly, now cupping your face with both his hands so you look him dead in the eye.
“He scared me so bad, Ari!” you sniffle, “H-He punched a wall when I said I wanted to leave, and then…and then he wouldn’t let me go!”
Ari mutters something unintelligible under his breath, before using the corner of his sleeve to wipe your cheeks. “How did you get him to stop?”
“I couldn’t. But thankfully, his sister was there and she stopped him.”
Ari freezes, “His sister?”
“Yes.”
“Did she say anything to you?”
“Not really,” you look down at your hands. Recounting the whole horrific ordeal with Steve had caused them to start shaking, and you grip at your skirt to get them to stop. Before you know it, Ari’s larger hands cup your own, holding them in place on your lap, stilling them, calming you.
“Well, don’t worry,” Ari says firmly, “he won’t touch you ever again. I’ll make sure of it.”
His face looks earnest, sincere. A large part of you feels comforted by him, but there’s also a dwindling doubt in the back of your mind. A little speck of mistrust growing larger and larger, fuelled by all the times he’s hurt you. Fuelled by how Steve had hurt you. Despite the fact that you don’t want to, you snatch your hands out of his and shoot up off his lap as if he’s shot you. No. You weren’t going to do this again. You weren’t going to fall for his false promises. Not this time.
“Stop lying,” you say shakily, backing away from him slowly. “You don’t care about me so stop pretending like you do. You just want me for sex, and you’re angry that someone else got close to having me like that too. But you don’t actually care about me or how I feel, Ari, so just stop lying!”
He stands up too, frowning, “I’m not lying. I dumped Sharon. I’ve been texting and calling you this whole time. Hell, I’m standing inside a fucking supply closet just to get a minute alone with you. What part of that says I don’t care?”
“You don’t care,” you repeat softly, “It took me a while to realise it, but now I do. All I’m good for is sex.”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes it is!” You cry, “Remember all the times I begged to be your girlfriend and you came up with a bullshit excuse each time? It’s because you knew that I wasn’t worth anything more than a hook-up for you!” You shake your head bitterly, “God, you must’ve been laughing behind my back at how stupid and naïve I was for expecting more from you. Steve’s probably laughing too. You’re both the same and I’m not going to let you or him or anyone else hurt me ever again! So, for the love of God, just leave me alone!”
You turn to leave, but Ari grabs your hand.
“What’s it going to take to show you that I care about you? Because I’ll do it.”
You don’t turn back around, waiting two long seconds before you tug your hand out of his grip. But you do open your mouth to respond – except nothing comes out. Instead, you sigh. There was really nothing more left to say, was there? Except perhaps just one more thing…
“Nothing, Ari. People don’t just change overnight. Especially not people like you.”
You step out of the supply closet, carefully shutting the door behind you and finally walking away. And hopefully this time, it’s for good.
***
Ari: WTF. Why did you change your lock???
Ari: Stop avoiding me.
Ari: If you weren’t so hellbent on ignoring me, you’d know that I have changed. Just give me a chance to prove it to you.
Ari: ???????
Ari: Steve’s still dodging me, by the way. Me and Curtis went over to his frat house but he wasn’t there again. Clearly, he’s afraid of me, but don’t worry. I promise I’ll make him pay for what he did.
The days go by, and Ari continues to text you daily all while you lock yourself up in your room and pretty much avoid the outside world. And his last text makes you want to tear your hair out. Why couldn’t Ari just butt out of your life and stop trying to fight Steve on your behalf!? You’d never asked for that; you didn’t want that! You just wished the whole ordeal with Steve had never even happened, you wished you could will it out of existence.
And speaking of Steve, he still texted you too. Not as frequently as Ari, which made him better at taking a hint than he was at planning first dates. But you still received a message from him every now and again…
Steve: I get it. I fucked it all up.
Steve: I need to see you again. I’ll make it right. Please.
And sure, there was a tiny part of you that did want to hear Steve out. But you were afraid of him, afraid of what he’d do or say. Plus, he’d literally lied to you, pretended he was interested in having a relationship with you when really, he just wanted sex. So, who was to say he wouldn’t lie again? Oh God, everything felt so wrong, how could he possibly make anything right!?
And why couldn’t you just block them both and move on!? You wish you could, yet you can’t find it in you to block or delete either of their numbers. Not Ari’s, and not even Steve’s. Maybe it’s the naïve little girl inside you, the insecure little girl who wants to hold on to the only male attention she’s ever gotten – despite the fact that your relationships with both men had gone up in smoke. And so you settle with just muting and archiving their chats. Out of sight, out of mind – except not really. But it’s the best you can do for now.
And you feel more alone now than ever. With Wanda always preoccupied with Curtis, you had nobody to confide your heartbreak in. But ironically, you began to grow closer with Sharon. On the rare occasions you actually left your dorm room and made it into campus for your lectures, she always seemed to find you. You realised quickly that she no longer hung out with her usual cheerleader friends. Either she herself had opted to leave them, or they’d decided to leave her because she was no longer the basketball captain’s girlfriend. Either way, you didn’t ask.
“It’s probably one of them,” Sharon mutters darkly one day as the two of you walk past a gaggle of cheerleaders, “The bitch he was cheating on me with. It’s probably one of them.”
You gulp. You had yet to come clean to her – but you could never find the right moment. And as time went by and she started spending more and more time with you, it got even harder to just drop the bomb and be like, oh hey, by the way! That bitch who your boyfriend cheated on you with? That was me!
But apart from all that, Sharon was good company. Both of you were dealing with heartbreak (she seemed to be dealing with hers better than you were dealing with yours), and so there was a kind of understanding between the two of you. Not to mention, hanging out with her turned out to be useful in keeping Ari away from you. Any time he spotted you on campus, he’d start making a beeline for you before freezing when he realised you were with her.
“You know, I think I figured out why both Ari and Steve treated us the way they did.” Sharon pipes up one day whilst the two of you are leaving campus. “It’s because we’re too nice.”
“Hm?” You barely utter a word, just wanting to get home and wallow in bed. You hadn’t told Sharon the extent of what had happened between you and Steve on your “date.” All she knew was that it was over, and you never wanted to speak to him again.
“Yeah, it’s because we’re too nice. Bad bitches don’t get their hearts broken, but nice girls always do.” She says, unscrewing her lip gloss and touching up her lips. Unlike you, she’d gotten some of her pep back since her breakup. In a way, you were glad. You’d rather her be happy than you – she deserved it after getting cheated on. 
You manage to laugh cynically, which eggs the blonde on as she continues.
“I’m serious. From here on out, let’s promise not to take any shit from anyone. That way, no one can hurt us again.”
No one hurting you ever again? That sounded like a dream. You knew you could be naïve at times, especially months ago when Ari had first started hooking up with you. Back then, you really thought you’d hit the jackpot and found yourself the perfect boyfriend. Now, months later, it was like you’d mentally matured at rapid speed. Could you be tougher now? Stop being the stupid, naïve little girl that kept getting played by men?
“That’s easier said than done,” you remark softly.
Sharon shrugs, “It’s worth a shot. I think if you act like an ice queen well enough, people are gonna know not to fuck with you. So, like, next time Steve tries to approach you or sweet-talk you into taking him back, just act like you couldn’t care less. Keep a strong resolve, he’ll get the message.”
You think back to all the times in the past you’ve tried to keep a strong resolve. Not with Steve, but with Ari. And every single time, you’d ended up crumbling and crying in his arms. Giving him the perfect opportunity to manipulate you again. Would the same thing happen with Steve? Who could be extremely charming and angelic when he wanted to be? You hoped not…
Turns out you don’t have to wonder that for too long. Because as you walk up to your dorm building after parting ways with Sharon, you see Steve sitting on the stairs of the entrance. He stands up quickly when he spots you, and your heartbeat quickens. Oh no, why was he here!?
“I didn’t mean to ambush you,” Steve calls out when you stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from him. “But you wouldn’t return any of my calls.” He starts making his way over to you, and you remain frozen in place. Despite every cell in your body screaming for you to run.
“Please, stay away from me.” You mumble.
Steve stops short, holding his hands up defensively, “I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to apologise.” His face softens, and you notice how he’s got a bit of facial hair now, like he hasn’t shaved since you last saw him. His hair looks scruffier too. He’s also got dark circles under his eyes, like he hasn’t slept. In fact, in his black hoodie (the hood up) and black sweats, he looks about as depressed as you feel.
“Sorry, I’m not interested in your apology.” You stick your nose up and resume walking, trying your hardest to follow Sharon’s advice and be the stone-faced ice queen who didn’t let anything phase her.
Steve, of course, follows you up the steps and into your building.
“I wasn’t thinking straight that day in my bedroom. Sometimes I get like that.”
“I don’t care.” You try to sound nonchalant, but now you’re a bit scared. What if he followed you all the way up to your room? Forced his way inside? Locked the door and had his way with you like how he’d tried to last time? There was no Kira here to pacify him, either… Abruptly, you turn around, trying to keep your voice from shaking, “Steve, please don’t follow me inside.”
He bites his lip, looking every bit as handsome as he always did. Which sucked, because he deserved to have somehow become ugly after how horrible he’d been the last time you’d seen him. But no such luck, he still looked angelic. A bit dark and twisted and scruffy, but angelic nevertheless.
“But I need to explain to you why I acted the way I did.”
A bitter chuckle forces itself out your mouth, fear momentarily forgotten. “I know why you acted the way you did. You wanted sex, and you thought I was so naïve and easy, that I would easily provide it for you. And when I didn’t, you lost it.
“No, that’s not it at all!”
You jump at his tone, but try to keep your expression unfazed. “Well, I don’t care and I’m not interested.”
He clenches his fists, his jaw tensing too. But he relaxes when he notices the way your eyes widen in fear, and how you take a few steps back.
“Please, fuck, just don’t be scared of me.” He holds his hands up defensively again, and this time, you notice one of them is bandaged up. The one he punched the wall with. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, you already did that, Steve.” You turn back around and continue walking up to your dorm room, trying so hard to appear nonchalant.
“I’m not the best at controlling my emotions, okay?” He calls out behind you, and the steady patter of his footsteps reveals he’s still following you as you go up the stairs of your building. “My parents, they’ve made me see a bunch of doctors for it, and lately I’ve been able to cope but I’ll admit, something inside me snapped that day, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have, and–”
 “DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? I SAID I’M NOT INTERESTED IN ANYTHING YOU HAVE TO SAY!” You reach your door before angrily whipping around, “Just leave me alone, alright? I don’t care if you’re sorry, it doesn’t take back the fact that you lied and made it seem like you wanted to date me when really all you wanted was sex! Not to mention, all the vile things you said and how scary you got. Now just leave me the fuck alone!”
Quickly, you slip inside your room and slam your door shut, locking it at lightning speed. Steve calls out your name, he knocks, he rattles your doorknob. And all you do is lean against the door, breathing fast and willing yourself not to cry. It was okay, he wouldn’t hurt you. There was a locked door between the two of you.
“(Y/N), please. Just give me another chance,” Steve knocks again, “I know I acted like a complete asshole, okay? I knew it the second I snapped out of it. And I really didn’t mean to say all those things.”
You feel that sudden flash of anger again. Bolting through you like lightning. After everything he’d said to you, after he’d forced himself on you… The best he could come up with was “I was an asshole and I didn’t mean it,”!? No, you couldn’t let him get off that easily. There were things that needed explaining and questions that needed to be answered.
Before you can think better of it, you throw the door back open. Of course, he’s still standing there, and you muster up the toughest, most ice queen-esque expression you can possibly make.
“Fine. We can talk.” You fold your arms over your chest, “But you need to answer me honestly. So don’t try to lie or manipulate me.”
Steve nods immediately, “Okay. Thank you.” He steps forward, as if he’s trying to get into your room. You quickly raise a hand up.
“No. Out here.” You don’t feel comfortable being in a bedroom alone with him. You take a deep breath, “You said that I spread your legs for you the night of the party. What did we do? And don’t lie.”
“We hooked up.” Steve meets your steely gaze evenly, before shaking his hoodie off his head and running a hand through his scruffy hair. It’s gotten long enough that the ends are starting to curl up, kind of like how Ari’s do – not that that was relevant at all right now. “In the cab when I was taking you home. We didn’t have sex, but we hooked up and I got you off.”
You wrack your brain, willing yourself to remember that night. But all you can muster up are fragmented pieces of memory. In the car with him, and you remembered how good he’d smelled. You remember his varsity jacket, and how it had somehow ended up around your shoulders. But… what else? Oh! You remember being in his lap, you remember the car hitting some bumps, and… Oh.
You nod slowly, “So then why did you lie? At the practice game, when you could’ve mentioned what happened?”
Steve exhales, “I did, but you were all confused. I thought you’d remember, but when I realised you didn’t, I just… Well, I don’t know why I didn’t say anything. I just… didn’t.”
For a guy who was so hell bent on explaining things to you, his explanations sure did suck.
You laugh bitterly, “No, you were too busy flaunting me in front of Ari’s face during that practice.” God, how could you have been so stupid!?
“Look, I said I’d answer everything and tell you the whole truth,” He shifts from one foot to the other, scratching his neck as if debating whether to say what he’s about to say, “And yes, I’ll admit that a part of me was using you to get to Ari.”
It feels like a punch to your gut. You’d suspected it, but the fact that he was so readily confirming it made it all the worse. With just a few words, Steve had confirmed all your insecurities. Not only did he not want to date you, not only was he just using you for sex… Oh no, as if that wasn’t enough, he’d also been using you as a pawn in whatever sick, longstanding rivalry he had with Ari.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…
“Please don’t cry,” Steve steps forward, closing the gap between the two of you. And you’re so distraught by the bomb he’s dropped on you, that you don’t even try to run away from him. Instead, you lean against the door, breathing heavily, trying to keep your tears at bay.
He continues, “This is me being honest, alright? Something Ari never is with you. And yes, I wanted him to be jealous, I wanted to get a rise out of him, so I flaunted you in front of him. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you. I still care about you.”
“How can you possibly say you care about me after everything you’ve just admitted?” You manage to get out as you try to get your breathing back into order.
“Because I do care! I think I’d know what I’m feeling better than you would!” He’s growing visibly frustrated. “Fuck, sorry. I’m so bad at explaining shit.” He smacks his forehead hard several times and yet you don’t even have it in you to flinch.
“Goddamit, look, I’ll start from the beginning.” He takes a few, gulping breaths. “When I first saw you at the party, it had nothing to do with Ari, I didn’t even know that you knew him. I approached you that night because you looked cute and lost, and I liked how feisty and sweet you were–”
“That’s a lie!” You wipe at your eyes roughly, “That’s a fucking lie, Steve. Aren’t you forgetting what you said last time you saw me? You knew what Ari and I did that night, you called me a slut for spreading my legs for him in the middle of a party! And you expected I’d do the same for you.”
“No, that’s not it at all!”
He gulps as if trying to get his breathing even once more, and you realise that’s his way of calming himself down. And you can tell that he’s trying, that he’s trying so hard not to have a meltdown like last time, and you just look at him apprehensively. You know you could back away at any moment, slam the door in his face again and lock it and be done with him. And yet, your feet remain planted in place, as if a part of you just has to hear him out.
“I’m sorry I called you a slut. It’s all a big fucking blank in my head, like I blacked out and said all those things. And I never saw you and Ari fucking at the party or anything like that. I only found that out days later through the grapevine. But I shouldn’t have used it against you, that was wrong of me. I’m sorry I fucked it all up by saying that. You didn’t deserve it.”
You shake your head but he hurriedly continues, “I was always going to ask you out, Ari or no Ari. It’s only when I saw how jealous he got when he saw you with me, that I realised how much he liked you. That he liked you more than he liked his own girlfriend. That’s when I realised I could be with you and get back at him at the same time.”
Get back at him!? For what? Did you even care, at this point?
Anger. Fear. Confusion. Pure fucking discombobulation. That’s what you feel. So much so, that you don’t even know what to say or how to act.
Steve takes your lack of response as his cue, moving forward and reach out to cup the side of your face slowly. And you fucking hate how soft and warm his hand feels, how it’s bigger than your whole head yet feels gentle at the same time. Gentle, when the last time he’d had his hands on you, he’d been holding you down on his bed while he tried to force himself on you.
“But I like you too,” Steve says quietly, almost like a whisper, “I like you more than he ever could. And whenever I like something, whenever I have something good in my life, I always fuck it up. But this time, for once in my life I want to make things right.”
“I kept telling you to stop,” you whisper, squeezing your eyes shut as the memories from that night barge their way back into your head. “Y-You ripped my dress.”
“I’m so sorry, baby girl.”
“You wouldn’t stop, Steve. It’s like you weren’t there, like something came over you and you weren’t there anymore.”
He nods fervently, his fingers stroking your cheek, “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I can’t help that I’m like this, I really fucking wish I could be normal and react normally to things like how other people do. I wish it more than anything in the fucking world.”
It’s like he’s a completely different man from the one you’d first met and thought you knew. The man who’d been so shrouded in mystery, oozing with confidence and charm. His intense aura, the smoothness with how he’d spoken to you in the past. But in this moment, it’s like all of that had melted away. And here he was, stripped back. Rough round the edges with bags under his eyes, an earnest look on his face. And this time when you look into his eyes, for a moment it’s like you really see him; you see someone fighting to be normal, desperate for another chance. Oh, should you…?
And then you blink. And there it is again: Steve, the very same man, saying all those vile things to you. All because you wouldn’t fuck him. Him ripping your dress, him holding you down. Him losing his temper. Him punching the wall. The way he’d held you so hard, not letting you leave. That dark, faraway look in his eyes. How scared you’d been… And here you were, letting him cup your face and speak all tenderly with you!?
What if he got like that again?
It’s like a lash of electricity jolts through you. You push Steve away hard.
“Listen to me carefully, Steve, because I’m not gonna say this again. You’re not who I thought you were. You lied about what happened on the night we met, and you lied about your intentions with me. It doesn’t matter if you say you wanted to date me, because your past actions speak louder than whatever words you’re saying now.” You take a deep breath, “That’s why I want you to leave me alone. Forever. Just walk out right now and never look back. Because I’m done with you. And I really, truly mean it.”
He freezes, an unreadable expression on his face. A myriad of emotions flitter through his eyes. Shock, sadness, anger. Disbelief. Resignation. And then…
“And what about Ari?” He says quietly, “You’re choosing him?”
“No, I–”
Steve spits out a bitter laugh, as if he wasn’t gently cupping your face and promising you everything just five seconds ago.
“You don’t know him, (Y/N). Okay fine, I wasn’t completely honest with you and I guess that means I’ve fucked things up between us forever. But you think Ari hasn’t lied to you?”
“I know he’s lied–”
“YOU DON’T KNOW THE HALF OF IT!” Out of nowhere, he raises his voice. And it cuts you like a sword, reverberating off the walls. You flinch at the booming loudness of his words, the aggressiveness back on his angelic face and now he’s scaring you again. “You don’t know what he’s done, okay!?”
“You’re scaring me.”
You try to say it calmly, but your voice breaks right at the end. Steve blinks rapidly, several times. Breathing hard, he looks down at his fingers which are enclosed tightly around your arm. Just like that day in his room. Like a hot poker, he drops it immediately. And again, it’s like he’s waking up from some sort of a momentary trance. Or rather, a momentary wave of anger.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats in a low tone, “but if you knew the things he’s done, you wouldn’t have picked him–”
“I HAVEN’T PICKED HIM!” It’s your turn to explode. “I didn’t pick him, Steve. This isn’t about picking anyone. I’m done with you, and I’m done with Ari too. I’m picking neither of you. Goodbye.”
You turn around and slam your door shut before he can get another word out.
***
“It’s like, a fundraising gala type thing held at the Hilton. The money raised gets split down the middle, half going towards the basketball team and half towards the cheerleaders,” Sharon explains, twirling a piece of her blonde hair around her finger. “Which, by the way, I think is totally lame, because the basketball team doesn’t even need any more funding. Unlike the cheerleaders.”
She swivels around in your desk chair, her sock clad feet waving around in the air. Outside, the sun sparkles and a gentle breeze flows in through your window. The weather had been great lately, as if the atmosphere knew you’d finished the final chapter of the Ari and Steve saga and closed the book on both of them. As if nature itself was willing you to go outside and begin your new chapter, one where you were sexy and single and thriving.
So then why could you still not find it in you to step outside of your room on most days?
“I’ve been on the planning and decorating committee for the Athletic Society’s Annual Gala for the past two years,” Sharon continues, “it’s like, one of the biggest events of the year. All these important sports execs and school alumni show up, not to mention half the college. Wanda, I’m guessing you’re going with Curtis, right?”
“Huh?” Wanda glances up from her phone for a split second, looking as if she has not the slightest clue what Sharon is on about. Burying her nose back into her screen, her acrylics start tapping ferociously. And it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to guess who she’s texting. In fact, you were surprised when she’d showed up alongside Sharon outside your dorm room this morning. It was very hard to pin down Wanda lately, since all her time was devoted to her boyfriend.
Sharon raises an eyebrow before shifting her attention back to you, “Well anyways, I think this would be a great opportunity for you to get out of your funk, Y/N. We could go together! As friends, obviously.” She adds hastily.
You manage to muster up a smile, “I don’t know…”
“Oh, come on! It’s been weeks since you ended things with Steve!” Sharon says, and you no longer shiver when his name is mentioned. It’s like the last confrontation you had with him cleared up the fog in your head a little bit. It still depressed you to the core, to know that you’d been used, but at least you didn’t flinch at his name anymore. That was something.
He’d also stopped texting you at all anymore. Which you should be happy about, and yet you still found yourself looking at your chat with him. God, what was wrong with you!? He’d finally left you alone just like how you’d wanted him to, and yet a part of you still felt like it was yearning for him.
“And I know how much you love dressing up and doing your makeup. Hey, we could even go shopping together for dresses!” The blonde claps her hands, clearly unaware of your current inner turmoil as she works herself up into a frenzy.
“We could make it into a proper girl’s night,” She sits on the other end of your bed with a bounce, “Hey, Wanda, why don’t you get ready with us too? You could always just meet Curtis there.”
Wanda scoffs, “Uh, no. I think I’ll go with my boyfriend, thank you very much.”
Sharon rolls her eyes, “Ugh. Fuck boyfriends. I was gonna go with Ari, but that’s obviously not happening anymore. Plus, a girl’s night sounds a lot more fun.”
Your poor, gullible, traitorous heart jolts. “Ari’s gonna be there?”
Unlike Steve, Ari was still texting you and trying to somehow see you in person. You’d successfully avoided him since the supply closet meeting. And yet, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either. God, were you just incapable of not thinking about the two fuckboys who had fucked your entire life up!?
“Yep, but it won’t bother me, I promise.” Sharon says determinedly, “The banquet hall is huge, so I’ll easily just avoid him. He’s probably gonna be super busy, anyways. Word has it that they’re giving him the Basketball MVP award this year.”
“Oh,” you breathe, before quickly clearing your throat, “I don’t know, Sharon. It sounds like fun, but–”
“Curtis says that he’s going to the gala with the basketball team, and that no one else is bringing dates,” Wanda interrupts you as she reads the latest text from her boyfriend. Finally, she looks up, “I guess I’ll go with you girls, then.”
“Great!” Sharon cheers, “You’re in too, right, Y/N?”
You smile, not really knowing what to say. Being in the same banquet hall as Ari and Sharon? At the same time? That was just trouble waiting to happen.
But is this how you were going to spend the rest of the college year? Letting your feelings towards Ari dictate where you went and didn’t go? You think about the old you, the one before Ari or Steve or anyone. The one who loved to dress up and go out to have fun. Before Wanda had got a boyfriend, the two of you used to go out all the time. Another girls’ night wouldn’t harm anyone, would it?
Sharon senses your hesitation, “Come on,” she urges, “It’s not like Steve’s even gonna be there. It’s strictly a St. Andrews’ event.”
You bite your lip. You doubted you’d ever see Steve again. Clearly, since he no longer texted you either. And a part of you is bittersweet as you think about what could have been. Absentmindedly, your eyes divert to your desk chair, where his blue and white varsity jacket still lies. You hadn’t even thought to throw it away. You bet it still smells like him…
Oh God, you had to get over him. Get over both of them and get the fuck out of this funk you were in. So what if Ari would be there too? This was your chance to prove to yourself that his presence didn’t make a difference in how you lived your life.
You take a deep breath, “Okay. I’ll go.”
***
 PART II
“Open up, sleepyhead. I’m not leaving and I’ll camp outside your door if you don’t open it.”
You’d woken up the next day to a loud knocking on your door. And you’d tried to ignore him. You really had. It was so much easier to just remain in bed, rotting and feeling sorry for yourself despite the promise you’d made yourself to get over the two men who’d betrayed your trust, and get out of the funk you were in. But the knocking was incessant, going from soft-knuckled raps to full on banging. You were sure he’d wake up your entire building, and then you’d have to pay a noise fine.
That’s why I’m opening the door, you think to yourself. Not because I actually want to see him.
And there’s Ari, standing outside your door with a picnic basket under his arm. And he looks kind of funny, his big athletic self holding such a dainty little thing. He also looks extremely pleased with himself, and you don’t even have the energy within you to argue with him or tell him to leave. You and him had gone non-contact ever since the confrontation inside the supply closet. Or rather, you’d gone non-contact whilst Ari tried to find ways to talk to you. He couldn’t corner you on campus anymore because you were usually with Sharon, and you’d changed your locks so he couldn’t exactly barge into your dorm room like how he used to.
“Go away, Ari.”
“Hey, nice to see you too. I come bearing food, because I know you haven’t eaten. And don’t ask me how I know, I just know.” Ari says breezily, and you frown at how chipper he’s acting. As if the last time you’d seen him you hadn’t stormed away and told him the two of you could never see each other again.
He follows you inside, and you quickly swipe Steve’s varsity jacket under your desk so he doesn’t see it. You don’t know why you still haven’t thrown it out but you really can’t be bothered to get into another fight with Ari over it.
Earlier in the day, Sharon had texted you asking if you’d wanted to hang out. You’d declined, finding the comfortability of your bed and the prospect of watching old reruns of trashy reality television much more interesting. What you hadn’t expected was Ari Levinson of all people showing up at your door, however. Although, you’re not too surprised. He was still texting you nonstop, wanting to show you how he’d “changed.”
Ari plops the picnic basket on top of your desk, and you sigh, sitting down on your desk chair while he grabs a stool. You already know how this is going to go. He’d tell you to open it, you’d say no, he’d say yes, you’d say no again. Then he’d open it and make you see the contents anyways. You decide to stop wasting either of your time and look inside the basket yourself.
“Cheese sandwiches?”
“Uh huh. And don’t knock it till you try one, sweetheart. My mom makes these for me.” Ari winks before flashing you a smile. And doesn’t contain even a hint of his usual cockiness or smugness – it’s just a regular little smile that makes his eyes light up all pretty too. And you’re not used to it at all, it looks almost displaced on his face. Was he being genuine? You can’t even tell anymore. But probably not.
You pick one up and eye it carefully, and your heart can’t help but throb at the thought of him standing in his kitchen making it for you. Big, bad basketball captain fuckboy Ari Levinson carefully cutting the sandwich into little triangles and packing it up for you in this little picnic basket. How had Ari even gotten hold of a picnic basket to begin with?
“So, it’s a family recipe?” You take a cautious bite.
“Yep. Passed down from generation to generation. Don’t ask me how you make it because it’s a Levinson family secret,” he grabs a sandwich of his own and wolfs it down in two bites, “I mean, you could always become a Levinson yourself and have my kid, then I’d tell you.”
Your cheeks heat up. Oh, a few weeks ago he didn’t even want a relationship with you and now he was joking about marriage and kids?! Would you ever understand him?
“It must be some recipe,” you remark, trying your best to keep your tone even and unamused. Instead of looking at him, you observe the sandwich. It tastes good – he’s used some type of expensive artisan bread and fancy cheese. A step above your average grilled cheese, and it tastes even better on an empty stomach since he was right, you hadn’t eaten anything since last night.
“It is. Have another one,” he thrusts another sandwich in your hand.
Your frown, “Ari, stop, I don’t want–”
“You haven’t eaten all day, (Y/N).” His tone drops, growing more serious.
“Well, stop acting like you care!” You shoot back.
But Ari looks unperturbed as he helps himself to a third sandwich (he was going through them remarkably fast), “I do care.”
“You don’t.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I fucking do,” he says, the slight sharpness in his voice taking you aback. “What other girl have I cooked for and lugged a fucking picnic basket halfway across campus for?”
You settle back begrudgingly, taking another bite out of the sandwich, “I’d hardly call this cooking.”
You know you sound mean and bitter, but it’s like you can’t help it. Like there’s a deep black hole filled with anger still swirling within you. Anger at both Ari and Steve and you don’t know how to sort through it or make it go away.
“Oh yeah? Well, you’ve never cooked for me so I’d say you’re hardly an expert on the subject.” Ari shoots back, grabbing another sandwich from the picnic basket as well as a can of soda. “You want a coke?”
“No.”
You start tearing your sandwich into tiny pieces just so you have something else to focus on and you don’t have to look at his face. Because you’re afraid this newfound earnesty of his, afraid it would reel you back in hook, line and sinker. Afraid he was just putting on an act to convince you he’d “changed.” That’s also why you’re being cold – you can’t let your walls down with him again. Not this time. Not when Sharon was literally your friend now.
“So, I was thinking we could catch a movie after we eat,” Ari continues talking all casually as if the majority of the conversation so far hasn’t been extremely one-sided. “Have you seen the new Godzilla vs Kong? Probably not, you’re not into stuff like that.” He pauses only to consume his sandwich in two huge bites, before grabbing another one. His voracious appetite almost makes you smile. Almost. The only other times you’d seen him look this starved was when he was going down on you…
No, stop! Don’t think about that!
“Sure, we could watch some girly movie instead, but you’d have to pick it because I have no idea about shit like that, obviously–”
“I told you; we can’t go anywhere that Sharon or someone might see us. Besides, the last thing I want to do is go out with you. In fact, you can show yourself out now because I’m gonna go back to bed–”
Ari slams his coke can down on your desk with a loud clunk. You jump, before narrowing your eyes at him. First, he practically broke into your room, then forced you to eat his dumb sandwiches. Now he was making obnoxious noises? Oh, you were just about done with him–
“That’s it.” he grunts, standing up to his full height. You gape up at him, suddenly nervous. You barely have the chance to yelp before he grabs your arm, yanking you up with him.
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?!”
He lifts you up off the ground with ease, throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You start pounding on his back immediately, but you only hear him snort in return.
“Put me down right now, Ari! I’m not in the mood for this! Put me down!”
“I gave you a pass to be a little sassy, but you need to remember who’s in charge.” He starts walking across the room. And you may as well have been an insect on his back with how unbothered he was by you wiggling and trying to fight out of his grip. Oh god, what was he going to do?!
Panic bubbles up in your chest, your heartrate increasing tenfold in about five seconds flat. You struggle harder against him, before realising there’s no use. He was way too strong. You shut your eyes and brace yourself; any moment now he’d throw you on the bed and have his way with you just like he always did, just like how Steve had tried to do, and you’d be powerless to stop him because you couldn’t stop anyone, and they all just wanted one thing, and–
“Please don’t,” you whisper, on the verge of tears, “Please, I can’t have sex. I don’t want to have sex, please don’t make me. Please, please don’t make me.”
Ari freezes, and you wish you could see his expression but in your current predicament, dangling over his shoulder, you cannot. But then he starts walking again, and he goes straight past your bed. That’s when you notice the picnic basket in his other hand.
“I’m not trying to sleep with you.” He mutters.
Oh. But then what was he doing?
You get your answer less than a moment later, when he swings your door open and carries you outside. That’s when you start punching his back again.
“Ari, take me back inside! I’m serious, okay? Someone’s gonna see–”
“Then I suggest you stop making so much noise that’s gonna attract attention towards us.” He shoots back, giving you a reprimanding pat on your thigh. Not your ass, you note, but your thigh. Immediately, you shut up. But you fix a scowl on your face, vowing you’d keep it there permanently until he could see it.
A minute later, he dumps you unceremoniously into the passenger seat of his car. By the time you scramble into sitting position, he’s already in the driver’s seat. The doors, predictably, are locked.
“So, it wasn’t enough that you barged into my dorm room uninvited. You felt the need to kidnap me, too?” You snap, irritated yet at the same time slightly amused. But you can’t let him know that. No, you had to maintain your ice queen persona.
“Please,” Ari snorts, starting up the car. “You were talking about going back to bed. If anything, I’m doing you a favour. It’s a nice day, sweetheart, let the sun shine on your face for a few hours.”
You deepen your scowl, crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m not going outside.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m literally not, Ari. Because you didn’t even think to let me put my shoes on.” You wiggle your bare toes, suddenly feeling the strong urge to smile at the ridiculousness of your whole predicament. But you pout to cover it up, suppressing whatever amusement you’re feeling because you don’t want him to see.
“Don’t fucking pout, it makes me want to kiss you.” Ari murmurs, keeping his eyes on the road but you can see him licking his lips.
“Don’t.”
“Did I say I was going to? I said I want to. There’s a difference.”
Again, you want to smile. You quickly turn your head away, looking out the window instead, watching the trees and buildings roll by as he drives you out of campus. “Whatever, just stay away from me.”
“Don’t be a brat.” There’s a warning edge to his tone, one that you’ve come to know very well. But surprisingly, you don’t feel unsafe. For once, you feel like maybe he won’t just stop the car in the middle of nowhere and try to fuck you.
You’ve been in Ari’s car before, and you’re no stranger to how it always goes when you’re in here. Back in the early days of you two hooking up, he’d pick you up in the dead of the night. And you were so innocent, you’d think of these midnight drives as romantic, magical even. He’d have a cigarette in his mouth, his long hair either slicked back or flowing in the cool night air. A wild look in his eyes as he’d pull you inside and kiss you headily while still trying to focus on the road. And he’d have one hand on your thigh, squeezing it before pushing his fingers between your legs.
In his hazy, smoke-filled car, you’d always find yourself underneath him. Splayed out in his backseat while he licked his lips and loomed above you. His dark silhouette so handsome, and you remember thinking how he was such a bad boy, and you were such a good girl, and how hot it was. He’d tell you how much he loved the tight little skirts you always wore, and yet he’d always rip them in half and then laugh and kiss you when you pouted. Tell you how he’d been waiting all day to fuck you, how he just couldn’t wait now that he had you, that he’d been thinking about you and him, that he just had to have you now.
You remember feeling like such a little girl compared to him. Ari was a senior after all, and you only a freshman. Once, you’d tried to impress him by wearing red lipstick. That night, he’d pulled you over the console and made you suck his dick. Till your red lip prints were all over his fat cock, and he’d told you how you were such a good girl, and he loved how cute you were, and that he knew you were trying to impress him.
 All those nights in his car, and you remember each time you’d ask him if he’d broken up with Sharon, and each time he’d tell you that he was “working on it.” That he didn’t see a future with her, that you were so much more special. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I,” he’d say, blue eyes dreamy and you thought he sounded so earnest. And eagerly you’d say the same, excited that someone like him could ever be that interested in someone like you.
And then he’d push you into the backseat, or he’d stay in the driver’s seat and pull you into his lap. Or sometimes, if the place you were parked at was secluded enough, he would take you on the hood of his car. Fuck you in every way imaginable, use your body for his pleasure whilst also giving you the most intense pleasure you’d ever felt. And sometimes, the moonlight would reflect off his eyes and make him look like something so special, and you’d feel so special, and you’d feel like you were in a movie. You still remember it now.
You doubt Ari does, though. You doubt those nights were ever special to him.
“Where are we?” You ask fifteen minutes later when he pulls up somewhere. You peer out the window and see trees – a bunch of them. He’s parked in a clearing, only a single dirt road leading up to it and the rest of the area covered in a thick forest of trees. The sun sparkles through the leaves, and you can hear birds chirping louder than you ever do back in the city. “Are we in the woods?”
“Yep.” He’s out of the car in an instant, grabbing the picnic backet which he’d thrown haphazardly into the backseat before making his way to your door. “C’mon, let’s go.”
“If you think I’m going to hike out into the woods barefoot–”
Ari scoffs, “Don’t worry your pedicured little feet off, princess,” he turns around, “Hop on.”
You eye him carefully, as if you’re assessing a threat. Going into the woods with Ari of all people may not be the best of gameplans for someone who was actively trying to avoid men in general. When Steve had forced himself on you, it had been in his room and luckily Kira had been nearby. The secluded woods, however, were a completely different story.
And yet, it’s like you know deep down that Ari won’t do anything. Not this time. Then again, you’ve been wrong about him before. Were you being naïve all over again?
Maybe you were, but you hop on to his back anyways. His muscular arms catch you easily as you wind your legs around his waist. Your arms lock around his neck and you nestle close to him instinctively. So close that you can smell his grape shampoo, and you admire how pretty his hair is, how it curls up slightly at the base of his neck like he’s a movie star or something.
You hate how you’re still so attracted to him.
He gives you a piggyback ride all the way into the woods, and it’s kind of neat being up so high. Ari was so tall, and with you on his back you felt like you were six foot six inches too. So this is what he sees, you think to yourself, finally indulging in the nature that surrounds the two of you. The way the oak trees soar up as high as skyscrapers, how the smaller trees sway with the breeze. The rustling of the leaves, and you think you hear a distant trickling of water, too.
“It’s nice here, isn’t it?” Ari breaks the comfortable silence, continuing to trek forward into the woods.
You’re about to heartily agree, before you remember the cold persona you’re meant to be adopting with him. So, in the dullest, most bored and nonchalant voice you can muster up, you say: “It’s whatever, I guess.”
He snorts.
You frown, “Are you laughing at me?”
“Nope.” He sounds amused.
“Yes, you are!”
“Well, it’s cute how you’re trying so hard to be something you’re clearly not.”
You’re thankful that he can’t see the way your jaw drops open, “And what exactly do you think I’m trying to be?”
He shrugs, inadvertently bouncing you up and down on his back.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I like this sassy side of you. Especially since I know you’re still the same naïve little baby on the inside.” He looks back at you, and you catch a glimpse of his glittering eyes, framed by those impossibly long eyelashes.
“I am not!”
Ari chuckles, “You can act as tough as you want, it amuses me how cute you look when you do it.”
You scowl, despite the fact that his constant flirting was starting to thaw you from the inside out, making your cheeks burn and your mind feel more muddled than ever. What was the truth and what was a manipulation? This was him just trying to win you over so he could fuck you, right?? Or maybe, maybe he genuinely liked you… Maybe–
You forcibly make yourself scowl again, “Fuck you.”
“Say that again and I’ll drop you,” He threatens.
“Don’t you dare!” You squeal, winding your arms tighter around his neck, almost choking him.
He snickers as if he’s cracked the funniest joke in the world, before continuing to walk. The two of you settle into another spell of comfortable silence. You take in all the bushes full of wild berries, the pretty flowers that are luckily in full bloom, scenting the air with a sweet fragrance that tickles your nostrils pleasantly. Another gentle breeze has you relaxing more against Ari, and you’re almost about to nuzzle your face against his strong shoulder before you catch yourself and freeze.
“I discovered this place last year,” Ari announces five minutes later, gently setting you down on a patch of vibrant grass. To your delight, only a few feet away from you is a stream! The water flows and sparkles in the afternoon sunlight, rushing over rocks and plants and making a pleasant trickling sound that has an oddly calming effect on you. And the grass feels nice against your toes, so much so that you don’t even mind your bare feet on the ground.
You don’t say anything, just watching as Ari settles down beside you with the picnic basket. You stretch your limbs out, secretly happy that he brought you out here, that you didn’t spend another day rotting in bed.
“I found this place last year,” Ari repeats, “A few of us were camping nearby and I hiked out further away to see if I could get cell reception. That’s when I found this place.” He leans back, lying down completely with his arms crossed behind his head, “It’s nice and private here, huh?”
A thought enters your head, jolting you down to the core, “Private? So, this where you brought Sharon? Or your other hookups?”
“No. You’re the first person I’ve ever brought here.”
The straightforwardness of his answer jars you, and you find you have no quip or jab to respond with. Instead, hesitantly, you lie down too. A few inches away from him, but he makes no move to grab you or pull you closer. A large part of you is relieved, but you want to strangle the tiny part of you that’s disappointed that he’s not touched you.
“It’s nice.” You say finally.
“Yeah, I come here sometimes. To admire the nature or whatever.”
That makes you pause, and you look at him incredulously. He’s lying there with his eyes closed, yet he’s got a completely straight face.
“You? Admiring nature?”
Ari scoffs, “Is that so hard to believe?”
“Yes, actually.” You can’t imagine Ari of all people, who only cared about basketball, partying and sex, to be one with nature. Unless it was weed. “What aspect fascinated you the most?”
There’s a long beat of silence.
“I don’t know, the plants and shit?”
You can’t help but burst out laughing. And it feels good, to just let go and laugh for a bit. To just forget about how shitty you feel and just laugh. Even if it’s just for a moment, to just forget about how awful Ari’s been to you in the past, how awful Steve turned out to be too, just forget it all and allow yourself to laugh. And you can’t even remember the last time you laughed.
“Haha, very funny,” Ari rolls his eyes, but you can see the slight smile playing on his lips before he clears his throat. “Alright fine, I couldn’t give a fuck about nature. But I do like this place, it’s good for when I need to think.” He hesitates, “When I was dating Sharon, I felt like I never had the space to really think, and so I’d come here.”
You cease your laughter immediately at the mention of her name. Now that you were friends with Sharon, it made it a lot harder to talk about her with Ari. Because now, she was actually a person to you rather than some distant illusion that you tried not to think about. And it wasn’t her fault that Ari felt he couldn’t think with her around. She wasn’t the villain here, Ari was.
You clear your throat, heart suddenly beating very fast. “C-Could I ask you a question? And please don’t lie, okay? Just be honest with me, Ari. For once.”
He nods, not saying anything else.
“Were there others?” You ask hushedly, your tone wavering slightly as you voice the thought you’ve never wanted to speak into existence, never even dared to wonder about. “Was I just one of many girls that you were cheating on her with?”
Ari sits up, rubbing his temple. You watch him carefully, watch how his eyes scrunch shut before opening. He blinks several times, his lips pressed into a thin line before they part and he exhales slowly. Then, he turns your way, looking you dead in the eye.
“No. There were other girls before you, but once I slept with you, it was only you from then on out.”
“Yeah, me and Sharon.” You say bitterly, although the guilt is eating you up inside. You feel guilty for even feeling hurt or bitter, because he was never yours to begin with. Sharon was the girlfriend – she had every right to feel hurt and bitter. You? You were just the other woman. All you should be feeling was guilt and shame. Especially since here you were, out alone with him again when you’d vowed yourself you wouldn’t do this.
You sit back up too, and he makes a move to grab your hand but you shuffle away quickly. You hug your knees, resting your chin against them as you huddle into yourself. You can feel his gaze penetrating holes into you, but you only focus on the steady flow of water in the stream.
“Even with Sharon, it didn’t feel right sleeping with her. Not after I’d been with you.”
 “Then why didn’t you break up with her?” Your voice breaks at the last second, and you turn away from him so he can’t see the lone tear that trails down one side of your face. Just a second ago you’d been laughing and now here you were, crying over the same question that had plagued your mind for months. The question that had been beaten to death, and yet you knew you’d never get a straight up, honest response.
Ari sighs, and you hear him moving closer to you. A second later, he takes hold of your chin, gently turning your face back to him.
“Hey, listen to me. I was an asshole, okay?” He sucks in a breath, closing his eye again for a handful of seconds. You want to look away but you can’t help but watch him, watch as he breathes, watch as he finally opens his mouth again. “Before you came along, I was this guy… This hotshot guy who could do whatever and everyone would just worship the ground I walked on. And, well, I guess I thrived on that. I liked how easily I could use women. I knew I had a girlfriend but I liked how I could get any girl to sleep with me–”
“I don’t want to hear this,” you mumble, pushing away from him.
“No, wait, I’m just trying to explain myself.” He runs a hand through his mane impatiently, “Look, I’ll admit it. All those times I strung you along, it was to feed my own ego. For a while, it felt like I was on top of the world, like I had two girls and neither of them knew any better, and–”
“Stop telling me this,” your voice hitches, more tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I was being a fucking asshole, that’s what I’m trying to say!” Ari grabs your hand as if to stop you from running away, a note of frustration in his tone. Or was it desperation? “I’ve never been good with voicing my feelings and all of that shit, but that’s what I’m trying to do right now. When I saw you with Steve, it’s like he was taking my girl, taking away everything I’ve always wanted. The night of the party, and then again at the game, when I saw you with him… It got me so fucking heated, and I’d never felt like that before. It felt like I was wasting my time in a relationship I clearly didn’t want to be in, and he was moving in on the girl I did want to be with.”
You look up at him, breathing heavily yet not daring to say a word.
“I’m sorry for lying to you, I’m sorry for using you. I’m sorry that it took you being with someone else for me to finally wake up and realise you’re the only one I’ve wanted this whole time.” His hand slips up to cup your cheek, and it’s like you’re frozen. You don’t know if you want to stop him or if you want to lean into his touch. You don’t know if this moment is even real. If this stream is real or if the woods are real or if Ari is real or if he really is saying everything you’ve ever wanted him to say.
“Why couldn’t you have said all this before?” You say shakily, afraid to look him in the eyes in case you see anything other than sincerity, in case you see even an inkling, even the tiniest spark of a hint that he was manipulating you.
“I was immature.” He continues to wipe your tears, before making you look up at him. “I was just so wrapped up in being the guy who could have any girl I wanted, but I promise you I’ve grown out of that now.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out so small, filled with hope mixed with a bit of hesitance.
Ari nods, “You said before that people don’t change overnight. But if you let me show you, I’ll prove to you that I have. And that I’m serious about us.”
Ice queen persona be damned. You feel more tears well up in your eyes. “Y-You are?”
“Yes. I wasn’t going to mention this but…” He runs a hand through his hair, brushing back a wayward lock that flops over his forehead, before taking hold of your hand, “There was an NBA scout at the last game. He said they want to sign me, that a lot of teams are eyeing me as a draft pick.”
Oh. The NBA. That put everything into perspective for you. He wasn’t like you, with three and a half years of college ahead of you. No, he was almost done… And then he’d be gone. You’re happy for him – the NBA was a huge deal after all. But you also feel a little sick, like time’s going by too quickly, like maybe you’re not ready to let go yet after all.
Your mind also briefly flits to Steve. Had he been approached by an NBA scout too? You think back to when you’d last seen him, outside your dorm room with the dark circles under his eyes, the withdrawn look on his face. He didn’t look like someone who’d just been scouted by the NBA. Oh God, were you feeling bad for him now?!
“Congratulations.” You say slowly, not really knowing how to feel. Suddenly, you’re hyper aware of Ari holding your hand, and now it’s like you don’t want him to let go.
“The reason I’m telling you this is because I have it all planned out. Our future.” Ari continues, looking more serious than you’ve ever seen him look. “I know you’ll still be in school, but I really think we could make it work. And by the time you graduate, I’ll have made it. We could settle down together, and I’d make it all up to you. That’s how serious I am about us.”
You simply just stare at him in complete awe. Who was this man? It was like an alien from outer space had taken over Ari’s body. Because the Ari Levinson you knew was a manipulator and a cheater. A man who stayed away from commitment with a ten-foot pole, a man who had just now professed to you that he enjoyed two-timing his girlfriend because it made him feel like he was on top of the world.
And yet… And yet you’re only just a girl, and you can’t help but picture the story his words are painting for you. Just indulge yourself a little bit, just a tiny little bit… You know you’re teetering on thin ice, and you know how dangerous it is to allow yourself hope when it comes to Ari. Hadn’t he squandered your hope time and time again for all those months he never made you his girlfriend?
But you can’t help but imagine, can’t help but think maybe this time he means what he says…
“We could buy a house in the countryside?” You whisper.
Ari cracks a smile, “Sure. And you could pop out a few Levinson babies too, make cheese sandwiches for all of them.”
“I’d have to establish myself as a model or a fashion designer before that.” You say, feeling the corners of your lips twitch upwards as you dare yourself to dream.
He looks amused, “Fashion designer, yes. Model, no. Too many pervy photographers.”
“I’ll be a model if I want to be one!”
“No.”
“Yes!”
“No way.”
“Yes way!”
“Fine. I’ll be in the NBA and you can be a model. Maybe. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” He chucks you under the chin playfully, like how he used to do all the time. And you giggle, feeling like you’re floating. Like the two of you are encased in a bubble and you’re floating and time’s standing still and just for this one moment you could pretend everything was alright and your future with him was as secure as he was making it out to be.
“And you’d never lie to me again?”
He nods, “I wouldn’t. Never again.” And then he takes a deep breath, “There’s this fundraising gala thing coming up, and I’m supposed to win an award. I’d love it if you could come with me as my date.” He says with a note of seriousness in his tone, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.
But rather than let you answer, he instead cups your face with both hands, pressing his forehead against yours. Immediately, the smile on your face freezes, and now you can feel every pore, every muscle, every cell in your body screaming. Screaming for what? For him to kiss you? Oh God…
“Let me kiss you,” he breathes out of nowhere, sounding like he’s parched. “Please, baby. I know I’ve fucked up but I want to kiss you so bad right now.”
“Oh, Ari…”
“Please.”
You never thought you’d live to see the day where Ari Levinson was begging you for anything. It was such a stark contrast from how your relationship had begun, almost as if the tables had turned now. Were tables capable of turning that quickly? Or was this all part of an act? Oh, you’re sick of asking yourself that question! What’s real and true is that earnesty in his eyes, and you want to kiss him so bad too. So fucking bad.
He moves closer, and so do you. Inch by inch, almost like first-time lovers. His lips purse slightly, looking so warm and soft and inviting. Closer, so close that they brush against yours for a second, and you can hear him breathing and you know he can hear you too. You wonder if he can hear your heart too, hear how it beats louder for him than it does for anyone else.
“We shouldn’t…” you murmur, but your words are laced with doubt. Just one kiss, your mind cajoles you, just one kiss won’t hurt.
There’s a gentle breeze around the two of you, swirling softly. Rustling through his hair, feeling cool against your face. Encasing the two of you in a private whirlpool where it’s just you two, and the sound of the stream, and the beat of your hearts.
“I know, but I want to so bad,” Ari’s hands are cupping your face so tenderly, his thumbs stroking your cheekbones as he slowly angles your face upwards. “Please, let me kiss you. Just once.”
It’s like the breeze jostles you forward, as if the universe wants you to kiss him. Your willpower’s hanging on by just a thread, your mind swarming with memories of every time you and him had kissed in the past. How magical it had felt for you, how it felt like you could never find someone who’d kiss you like that again. Oh, fuck your willpower!
He surges forward one last time, but his lips have barely touched yours before you pull away, turning your head to the side. Breathing hard, the anticipation still burning through your body in waves. Heart beating like crazy, and yet you swallow and shake your head.
“Ari, we can’t,” you force yourself to say firmly.
Ari sits back, looking slightly dazed and yet running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a second, you wonder if he’ll be mad, call you a tease for leading him on. Call you a slut, tell you how the least you could do was kiss him in return for all he’d done for you today. But he just sighs thoughtfully.
“Not until I come clean to Sharon about everything,” You explain, “And I know about the gala, Sharon told me. I-I’m actually going with her and Wanda, like a girls’ night.”
He raises an eyebrow before nodding slowly, “Well, as long as I get to see you there when I go up on stage to accept the award.”
“Yeah, but we can’t talk or interact or anything. Sharon’s my friend now, and I owe her the truth before anything more can happen between us.”
Ari gazes at you carefully, but there’s a hopeful glint in his eye. “So, it’s just the Sharon issue then. You forgive me for everything else?”
You hesitate. Well, did you? Did you forgive him for leading you on? Lying to you multiple times? Manipulating you? Leaving you drunk and high and alone in a party bathroom? God, why did he have to remind you of the asshole he’d been all this time, up until very recently? It pops the bubble your mind has created right now, the one that you and him were encased in, in this little clearing in the woods.
“I don’t know if I forgive you.” You say honestly, hoping he doesn’t question you further.
To your surprise, he doesn’t. Instead, he lies back down on the grass, stretching his long limbs out to make himself comfortable. You watch him as he lazily grabs another cheese sandwich from the picnic basket, wolfing it down before offering you one. Stifling a smile, you shake your head.
Ari shrugs, “Well fine, more for me.”
And it’s later, after the two of you sit there by the stream in comfortable silence for a little while longer. After he’s piggy-backed you back to his car, and after he’s driven you back home. It’s when he’s pulling up to your building, that he puts his hand on your knee to make you look at him.
“I know you said before that nobody changes overnight, but that doesn’t mean I won’t stop trying until you see that I have.” He says firmly, his hand feeling so warm on your leg, causing heatwaves to radiate up and down your whole being. “And I know you, baby. I know you like me too. I know you want this to work out between us too. And it will. Once you tell Sharon, and we’re free to be together, everything’s gonna work out. You’ll see.”
Oh, he was so cocky! And yet, it’s a different type of cockiness than what you’ve usually come to associate with him. It’s more of an honest sincerity, this confidence that one day you’ll be his. And oh, you want to believe him! You really do! You want to believe in a perfect world where Ari proves himself to be more than just a manipulative fuckboy, a world where Sharon understands and forgives you for everything.
A world where you forget all about Steve Rogers, and never find yourself thinking about him… Thinking about what could have been.
You say nothing, not until he’s carried you back into your dorm room. Not until he’s about to leave. That’s when you speak.
“Ari?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
He looks surprised, as if he hadn’t really been expecting you to say anything at all after his whole speech. The truth was, you’d been silent for a while now, ever since the two of you had almost kissed in the woods. But there’s a newfound serenity inside you, a feeling that wasn’t there before.
“For what?” He asks, a shy little smile on his face. One you’ve never seen on him before.
For bringing me outside. For taking me to your special place. For not making a big deal out of it when I didn’t want to kiss you. For carrying me. For not losing your patience with me. For making me laugh. For making me smile again.
“For the cheese sandwiches.”
***
The night of the gala is cold for springtime, the blustering winds revving up and roaring to life. Looking outside your window, you can see the smaller trees swaying roughly against the unforgiving nature of what looks to be the beginnings of a windstorm. It gives you a peculiar foreboding feeling, listening to the ominous whistling of the winds, so loud as if they’re warning you. You back away from your window, and yet something inside you doesn’t close it and lock it as you know you should.
You float back over to your vanity table, feeling pretty in your new dress that you and Sharon had gone shopping for, just how she’d promised. You haven’t felt this pretty in a long time, and as you gaze at your reflection, you feel another pang of foreboding. Quickly, you busy yourself with powdering your nose and fixing your hair, wondering if maybe you should have agreed to get ready with Wanda and Sharon after all. You’d told them you wanted some alone time before the busyness of the gala. Some time to yourself where you could draw a bubble bath, and then shave and pluck and preen and pamper yourself till you felt somewhat ready for the big night out.
And it had made you feel better, your solo pamper session. Sure, your thoughts had spun into overdrive as they always did. Replaying all your recent interactions with Ari, with Steve, even with Sharon. The reflection made you chuckle at one point, because when had your life become so like a tumultuous soap opera? With secrets and lies and betrayal and deceit coming from all corners?
A loud gust of wind knocks you out of your reverie, and again you feel it. The feeling that something big is swirling up in the atmosphere, like the howling wind itself is trying to warn you that soon, it would all come to head.
“Fuck you! Try an’ scratch me again and see what happens!”
Your head snaps up at the sound of the familiar male voice. And it’s the proximity that makes your heart skip a beat. The voice sounded close, like it was coming from mere feet away from you. Fearfully, you look back at your window, only to see that same angelic face you know so well seemingly levitating outside.
“Steve?” You whisper, blinking several times. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you wonder whether you’re imagining things. Slowly, you venture forward, back to your window which lies open. And that’s where you find him, standing on the ledge outside of your bedroom window which was two storeys high.
Steve whacks a wayward branch that looks to be tangled in his jacket. And his movements are oddly sluggish as he flips the bird at the tree adjacent to your building which the brand is attached to. “Damn stupid fuckin’ tree, tryna pick a fight with me,” he mutters before his eyes fall on you, and they brighten up instantly, “Hey, baby girl, fancy seeing you here!”
And then he bursts into a fit of giggles, while you just stare at him in awe, your mind still not having come to terms with the fact that Steve had somehow climbed all the way up to your window. In the dark. With the wind blustering insanely around him. Warily, you peek downwards, heart jumping all the way up to your throat when you see how he’s just casually balancing on the extremely thin ledge, the street below looking very minuscule with how high up your floor was.
“How did you get up here?” You breathe, still half in shock that he’s here that you forget how explosively your last encounter with him had gone down.
“Who, me?”
“Yes, of course you. Who else!?”
He shrugs, “Scaled that tree over there, then it decided to scratch me so I fought it off an’ jumped onto the ledge. Now here I am!” He ends his explanation with a flourish that causes him to stumble backwards. It almost happens in slow motion; you don’t even have a chance to react to what you’re seeing. But he catches his balance again just in time, grinning up at you mischievously.
“Whoops!” He laughs heartily, a type of laugh you’ve never really heard from him before. He shuffles along the ledge till he finds a spot he’s more comfortable with, leaning in through your window and shooting you a smile, “almost fell to my death there, didn’t I?”
“Steve, you need to get back down. You’ll hurt yourself.” You bite your lip, wondering whether you should let him in through your window just so he’d be safe. But the thought of being alone with him within the four walls of a bedroom again gives you the creeps, and so you refrain.
“Maybe I want to hurt myself,” he answers, staring at you almost quizzically. His lips are full, his cheeks flushed. His hair looks longer and even more unkempt than last time, that stubble still on his face, his eyes dark and unfocused. It was weird, because you’d always known Steve to be meticulously well-groomed and almost preppy with his clean-cut good looks. He was still handsome as ever now, but he looks darker, almost tortured, with dark bags under his eyes and even his cheeks looked kind of hollow.
“I’m serious, climb back down.”
“I just wanted to see you again,” he breathes softly, and his entire expression morphs to tender as he reaches out to touch your face. “And I knew you wouldn’t let me in the normal way.”
You can’t help but flinch away, and he sighs, bringing his hand back down to grip at your windowsill, “You’re so pretty.”
That’s when you smell it. Vodka. Suddenly, his erratic behaviour makes a lot more sense. His pupils are dark and blown out, and he’s swaying dangerously on the spot.
“You’re drunk, Steve.”
“Nah,” he bats his hand dismissively, but with such force that he stumbles forward. And again, your heart lurches in your throat, thinking he’s going to fall. But lithely, he grabs on to something or the other, regains his balance, and flashes you another smile, “okay, maybe a little bit. But being drunk helps.”
You frown, not knowing whether to feel scared or concerned, “What do you mean?”
He shrugs, “Helps to forget all the shitty stuff.”
A wave of anger passes through you, “Shitty stuff? You mean like all the awful things you said to me when you tried to force yourself on me?” Hell, maybe you should be the one drinking if it meant you could forget how he’d called you an easy slut.
Steve bows his head, still swaying slightly, “I’m so sorry, baby.”
“Don’t call me baby.”
“Okay. I’m sorry, sweetie.”
“Stop it, Steve. I’m serious.”
He sighs again, “So am I. I hate how I lose control like that. It’s like I zone out, and something takes over me and I’m there on fucking standby. Watching this one version of myself lash out and say all these shitty things an’ I can’t do anything to stop it.  And when I zone back in, it’s too late an’ I can’t take anything back.”
He explains with surprising eloquence, despite being so drunk.  And God, why did he have to look all rugged and heartbroken right now? Dismissing him would be so much easier if he was ugly.
There’s an emotion swelling up inside you as you look at him now, but you try to suppress it. Instead, remembering your ice queen persona, you cross your arms over your chest and force yourself to narrow your eyes. “Is that your explanation? That you zoned out? Because honestly, the lack of accountability–”
“I don’t think you’re a slut,” Steve interrupts you, “you’re sweet, and beautiful, and innocent. That’s what I thought the night I first saw you. And sure, I guess I used you because I was trying to get back at him–”
You flinch. There it was again. The reminder that Steve had indeed used you. And you’d fallen for it… Hook, line and sinker.
“–but at least I’m honest enough to admit it. Doesn’t that count for something?”
He finishes, blinking up at you with large eyes framed with those impossibly thick lashes, as if waiting for you to respond. When you don’t, he sighs, swaying again as another strong gust of wind attacks from the outside.
“I like you a lot, okay? I know I haven’t known you as long as he has, but it doesn’t matter. I think what we have is special.”  He swallows, his eyes squinting as he searches across the plains of your face, either trying to gauge your thoughts or trying to come up with the right words to say next. “And I know I fucked it up because that’s what I always do. So fuck it, I don’t care anymore.”
He shoves his hand inside his jacket, conjuring up a glass bottle of Gray Goose vodka out of what seems to be thin air. Your jaw drops open as you watch him take a hearty swig from it – and it was already half empty!
“Okay, that was a lie. I do still care.” He wipes his mouth roughly, stumbling about and still very much on the window ledge. “There’s just so much going on inside my head,” he says, and he demonstrates by smacking the side of his head with his open palm, “School, basketball, taking care of Kira – all of it just keeps building up. And I try my best, okay?” He loses his footing and sways some more, “but it’s never enough, and all my thoughts get louder and louder, like voices fucking screaming inside my head, and then I just explode. And I get so fucking angry, and it’s always directed towards the wrong people – whoops!”
He slips. You cry out in terror and impulsively grab hold of his arm. But he regains his balance and barks out a laugh, as if he’s tripped whilst taking a simple stroll in the park and not currently balancing on top of a very high and very dangerous ledge.
“It wouldn’t matter if I fell, you know?” He muses, taking another long swig of the vodka. And he doesn’t even flinch as the bitter liquid goes down his throat, as if the taste no longer has any effect on him. “I mean, my life’s a fucking mess already. Basketball’s completely fucked, anyways…”
“What do you mean?” You ask, your heart pitter-pattering in fear. His overtly reckless behaviour is scaring you, and you realise you’re holding your breath as you watch him callously standing there.
Steve shrugs, “Got kicked off the team today.”
Oh. You feel a surge of pity. And you know you shouldn’t. Not after how he treated you. And yet you can’t help it. Tonight, Ari was going to win an award for being the best basketball player of the season, and in the summer, he was going to the NBA. You can’t help but feel for Steve’s starkly different fortune.
He takes another gulp of vodka, “Coach said I couldn’t control my emotions and I’d keep costing the team if I continued playing.” He gazes off into the distance, and you try to gauge his expression but it’s quite unreadable. He laughs bitterly and smiles again, but it looks more like a grimace, “Fuck him. He’s right, but fuck him anyways.”
“Steve, this is dangerous. You could fall–”
“Fuck basketball,” he continues swaying around like he hasn’t even heard you, “it’s not like I was ever gonna make it to the NBA, anger issues or not. No, I have to become a surgeon. Like my parents.” His words slur and ring with sarcasm, and he barks out another laugh, “If I don’t fuck that up too…”
“I’m sorry that happened, but–”
He scoffs, “Can’t even fucking imagine being a doctor. My patients would probably be scared of me, just like how you are.”
“Please, just get down–”
“And Kira…” His expression morphs from bitter to sad in less than a second, and he clutches your hand suddenly. The one that you hadn’t realised was still holding on to his arm. And you don’t pull away, almost like you don’t want to. Either that, or you want to keep hold of him so he doesn’t fall.
Steve coughs, “God, I wish I took care of her better. I feel so fucking guilty, living on campus while she lives by herself in our house. Our parents are never home, they don’t even know what she went through… How she doesn’t even speak to anyone but me, how she doesn’t go out anymore...”
Another long swig. It’s a wonder the bottle isn’t empty yet. You want to interject, beg him once more to climb back down to safety, or at least hand you the vodka so he doesn’t drink anymore. But he’s not done speaking, and cuts you off when you try to get a word in edgewise.
“My parents, the award-winning heart surgeons!” He raises the vodka bottle up in the air in a mock toast, “They’re here, there, everywhere around the fucking world!” Another swig, more swaying. “Everywhere except for at fucking home. So then I have to handle everything, don’t I?”
“Steve–”
“They don’t even know how bad she’s gotten, how their own daughter’s shut herself off from everyone.” Steve shakes his head in both resignation and frustration, “and I try so fucking hard, okay? Try to help her with her anxiety, help her make new friends. God, all I do is worry about her. And school. And basketball. While they jet across the world doing their fancy surgeries and not giving a damn about her or me. Fuck them!”
Whoa. Wow. Okay. Now, you look at Steve with new eyes – you had no idea there was so much going on in his life, in his head. It still didn’t excuse the way he’d spoken to you, the way he’d forced himself on you – and yet… Yet you can’t help but feel another pang of sorrow and pity for him.
His eyes are dark and stormy as he looks out into the early evening sky, before looking back to you. His gaze falls down to your hand holding on to his arm, and he smiles softly.
“You were the only thing in my life that was good.”
You shake your head, your barriers going back up, and you try to pull your hand away, “No. Stop lying, Steve, just don’t even try it, don’t even–”
“No, it’s true!” He insists, holding on tightly to your hand as if he’s on a sinking ship and you’re his only lifeline. “That one week before I fucked it all up, that one week when we were just texting. I’d be on my phone, smiling like a fucking fool. You can ask Kira! She knew about you because I couldn’t stop talking to her about you.”
You bite your lip, and despite everything, you find yourself wanting to believe him so bad. Suddenly, a strong gust of wind has Steve clutching your hand even harder as he teeters on the ledge, bringing his face closer to yours, his eyes hooded and lashes fanning over those impossibly sharp cheekbones.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says.
“Don’t, Steve…”
He sighs, breaking eye contact as he plays with the glass bottle in his hand. But his other hand seems to move off its own accord, his pointer finger trailing up your bare arm. And it’s so intimate, that simple touch, leaving a trail of fire and goosebumps in its wake. Your skin feels like it’s buzzing, burning almost, as he traces his finger up your shoulder blade, as if he’s testing to see how much you’d let him touch you.
“I miss you.”
You feel your resolve crumbling…
“No, you don’t. All we did was text for one week. We never even went on a date, so you can’t possibly miss what you never had.”
“And yet I still miss you.”
He leans in, his eyes fluttering shut. His lips look so pink, so warm, so hesitantly inviting. Slightly pursed, as if he doesn’t know if it’s going to happen but he’s going to try anyways. Another sharp gust of wind blows past, almost pushing him into you as if even the universe itself is cajoling you to just give in to him. You can smell the alcohol on his pores, and yet you can also feel his warmth, his musky cologne, the way his breath hitches as if he can’t believe this kiss is actually happening…
Except you turn your head at the last second, and he sighs.
“Should’ve seen that coming,” he says to the evening sky, “lost my place on the team, lost my girl, I wonder what I’ll lose next? You wanna take any guesses? Hey, maybe I’ll lose my balance! That would be funny, wouldn’t it?”
You watch as he looks down, all the way down to the ground with a peculiar gleam in his eye. The type of gleam that reflects that he’s a man with nothing to lose. And it’s a long way down. What the hell was he thinking?!
“He really fucked her up,” Steve murmurs softly to himself, a whisper that almost gets lost in the great gusts of wind that swirl around the two of you. “And I tried to do something about it, tried to get back at him, but I fucked it up. I always fuck up. Maybe it’s best if I just–”
“Steve, stop it! Stop being so reckless!”
You tug hard at his arm, and at the same time a heavy wind blows. Steve stumbles again, but mercifully, he falls forward instead of back. Through your window and right on top of you. You both land on the floor with a thud, and despite how drunk he is, he manages to bring his hands out in front of him, preventing you from getting crushed by his huge frame.
“Whoops. Sorry, baby.”
He flashes you a cocky smile, as if he hadn’t just been teetering on your window ledge in the middle of a sad, drunken rant. The bottle of vodka is still snugly clutched between his fingers, somehow having also survived the fall onto your hard bedroom floor.
You open your mouth to tell him to get off of you, but the words die inside your throat. Instead, you look up at him, at his face so close to yours. So close that his nose is an inch away from brushing against your own. And his eyes, navy and blown out and yet still so pretty, blink down at you imploringly. The last time, when you’d been in his bedroom, they’d looked so stormy and far away. And here, now, he was drunk and yet he looked present. And you realise that you don’t feel unsafe at all.
“I really, really want to kiss you right now,” Steve says, slurring and stumbling over his words.
“Don’t.” You warn him, although you notice your own lack of conviction. In that moment, had he actually done it you don’t think you’d have objected too much. But you don’t want to give in to him, not after how scary he’d been last time. Despite everything, you still haven’t forgotten.
He nods slowly, “I know, fuck, I know…”
Shakily, he gets off of you, swaying slightly as he gets on his feet, and then he yanks you up too. Before you can stop him, he takes another swig of vodka before his eyes once again settle on you.
You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows hard, biting his lip as his dark eyes drink you in. In your form-fitting emerald dress that wraps around your body like a second skin of smooth satin. The ruching which accentuates your curves even more, the delicate lace detailing, the smooth dip of your cleavage. The gleam of your bare legs that peak through the slit of the dress. The demure heels that makes them look longer than ever. And yet you can’t help but shift shyly under his intense gaze.
“You’re all dressed up,” Steve says softly, reaching out to touch you before thinking better of it, curling his outstretched hand into a fist and pushing it down to his side, “You look… incredible.”
“Th-Thank you.”
“You going somewhere?”
“Uh… yes.”
He nods before his brow furrows, “Is he taking you out?”
“What–?”
“Levinson. Is he taking you out? Are you two together now?” His tone hardens, and you feel your heart jump up to your throat. Oh, please let him not get all angry again like how he did last time!
“No.” You say firmly, “There’s this gala, this fundraiser thing at the Hilton Hotel. That’s where I’m going. Me and Sharon and Wanda.”
“No Levinson?”
You shake your head, “N-No, Steve.” It was only white lie, because you weren’t going with Ari and you probably wouldn’t speak to him tonight. It was a girl’s night out, if anything. Plus, you’re scared that Steve might flip out if he knew that Ari would be there too.
“You promise?” He looks at you meaningfully, and he’s got that same intense look again. The look you’ve grown to associate with him, that eery, almost glassy stare. “Promise me, Y/N. Promise me that you aren’t going out with Ari.”
You don’t owe him anything, certainly not any promises. And yet, yet you can’t help but nod, “I promise, Steve. In fact, Sharon and Wanda are on their way to pick me up.”
Steve nods approvingly, looking somewhere beyond you. His eyes look sad once again, and he takes another long, lingering sip of vodka. “Good girl. You stay away from him, okay? All he does is hurt people.” He shakes his head, his mouth pulling downwards in a grimace, “He hurt her so bad.”
You frown, “Hurt who? Sharon?”
The blond doesn’t answer, but he continues talking to himself. “What did she ever do to him? He didn’t give a damn about her, and now look at her…”
You feel an uneasy wave of guilt, “You mean Sharon, don’t you? I know…”
Steve frowns, opening his mouth to answer you before he grows distracted by something beyond your shoulder. A slow smile spreads across his face, and he stumbles over to your desk in the corner of the room.
“My jacket!” He grabs the blue and white varsity jacket he’d given you the night of the party, “You still have it. You kept it.”
“You can take it back!” You say quickly, a bit too quickly judging by how his face falls. Quickly, he drops the jacket as if it’s made of hot coals, a bitter look enveloping his features.
“You should throw it away. Or burn it.” He says simply, throwing his head back and taking a hearty sip of his vodka, “thought you would’ve looked cute wearing it to one of my games but I since I won’t be playing anymore, there’s no point anymore, is there?”
What follows is an uncomfortable silence. And oh, why was he making you feel bad for him now?! After everything he’d said and done? But then he’d apologised too… Were you being too hard on him? Now you feel more confused than ever!
You sigh, “Steve… Look, I just don’t know how to act around you. One second, you’re so intense, and you’re calling me a slut, and you’re being all scary. And then the next it’s like your entire personality changes. And I just… I don’t know what to believe, okay?”
“Why can’t you just believe that I’m sorry for what happened? I’m sorry for all of it.”
You shift uncomfortably, looking down at your heel-clad feet. You wrack your brain, trying to choose your next words carefully, “I… do believe that you’re sorry.”
He stands there expectantly, as if waiting for you to say something more, to say that you forgive him, perhaps? But you don’t think you do. Do you? A few more empty seconds pass before he clears his throat.
“They put me on some kind of medication. Added it to the ones I already take.” He volunteers, breaking the silence. He avoids your gaze now, instead focusing on his bottle of vodka, tossing it from one hand to the other and tapping at the glass. “For my anger and mood swings, or whatever.”
You nod, “That’s good, right? You saw a doctor?”
He snorts, “No. My parents just heard about me flipping out and contacted the family physician Got him to prescribe me all these different pills. But this,” he raises the vodka up in the air and waves it around, “This helps more than any medication ever could. It stops all the screaming in my head. And luckily, Mom and Dad left the house full of booze, so I’m all good to go.”
You nod slowly, furrowing your brow, “Steve, maybe you shouldn’t be drinking while you’re on medication–”
Your phone vibrates loudly from its place on your bed, the sound shaking you from the inside out. Even Steve blinks several times, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding as you make your way over to your phone. It’s like the bubble of intensity the two of you have been encased in has popped, and now you’re back in the real world. It was crazy, because being inside the bubble felt intoxicating, like everything was moving in slow motion, like you were in some sort of fairytale and the troubled prince had just climbed in through your window.
Your screen glows with a new text.
Sharon: We’re on our way! Wanda’s already so drunk lol we’ll be there in ten minutes!
Oh no. You’d rather your friends didn’t run into a drunken Steve Rogers when they came to pick you up. Especially not when you were supposed to have sworn off men anyways.
“Steve, you–”
“–I need to go,” he completes sombrely, picking at a piece of loose thread on the sleeve of his expensive-looking sweater, “I know, I know.” His eyes narrow, “That wasn’t Ari, was it? Who texted you just now?”
“No.” 
He relaxes, “Good. Okay, I guess I’ll leave then.”
You chew your bottom lip anxiously, “H-How will you get back? You didn’t drive here yourself, did you?”
He waves your question off as if it isn’t important, backing away towards your door, “You don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”
“Steve Rogers, don’t you dare drive back home in the state you’re in!”
He just stares at you, that same bittersweet look on his face. Finally, he nods, “I’ll be fine. I came here with Bucky.”
You nod, “Okay, then. As long as you don’t drive…”
Steve shoots you a sad smile, one that doesn’t really reach his eyes. His eyes that are still glued on just you, only you. He crosses his hand over his chest, “I promise I won’t. Scout’s honour… Although I was never a scout, so who knows if you can take my word. Ha ha.”
He finally makes it to your door, almost as if he’d been walking in slow motion, wading through quicksand. Why? Because he didn’t want to leave? And you feel a lump in your throat, one that won’t go no matter how many times you swallow. There’s an odd yearning inside you, like an itch on your hand. No, an itch in your heart. Your fingers twitch as if wanting to reach out to touch him. Did you not want him to leave, either?
You press your lips together, rooting yourself in place as you watch him go. At the last second, he turns back around again.
“I am sorry, okay? Sorry about everything.”
Once more, all you do is nod. The expectancy in his eyes fades away and he sighs, his hand resting on the doorknob as he goes to shut the door. 
A second passes. But it feels like the longest second you’ve ever lived. Like your heart seems to beat about a thousand times in that one second, like a drum reaching crescendo. Feeling like you’ve reached that part in the movie, that page in the book where the climax happens and then everyone can breathe again. Outside, the winds seem to be charging up again, readying themselves for an almighty, blustering blow. And you can feel the booming whistle of the winds ringing all around you, when you suddenly drop your phone on your bed and rush over to the door before you can think better of it.
“Steve, wait!”
You press your lips to his in a searing kiss, catching him completely off-guard. He stumbles back slightly, either by how strongly you’ve jumped on him or because of his own inebriation. Either way, he recovers quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you against him as he reciprocates your kiss.
And you don’t know why you’re kissing him, but it’s like your body’s gone past the point of rationale. Like your lips and your limbs have a mind of their own and your brain is no longer part of the conversation. And Steve’s lips feel so soft, and this time you feel like it’s you in control. He’s too drunk to take charge, you suspect, as his lips move languidly against yours.
Your hands cup his face, his bristly skin pricking the pads of your fingers, and yet it doesn’t bother you. Not when he’s kissing so softly, so cautiously like he’s afraid he could hurt you again. It’s you who presses your tongue against his, stroking it, biting and nipping at his lips. He smirks at your overexcitement, finally injecting more passion into the kiss by tipping your head back slightly and pressing his lips harder against yours.
He tastes like vodka, but you don’t mind. He also tastes kind of sweet, kind of irresistible. And oh, you know this makes no sense! And you know you shouldn’t be kissing him! What about Ari? What about your own dignity? What about swearing off all men? What about–?
You pull away as abruptly as you’d kissed him, and both of you stand there breathless for a handful of seconds. Your lips still tingle pleasantly, and before he can say anything, you gently pry the bottle of vodka from his hand.
“I’ll keep this, okay?” You say softly, holding it behind your back. There’s still quite a bit left in it, and Steve looks like he’s one sip away from disaster. Or at least a very bad headache tomorrow morning. You pray it’s only the latter.
But he’s got a sparkle in his eye now, and he doesn’t spare the vodka a second glance, “It all went away for a second.”
“What went away?”
“All the fucking screaming in my head. All that pressure I was telling you about. Kissing you made it all go away. Your lips are magic, baby girl. Better than the vodka.”
“Oh.” You don’t know what else to say, but you feel a lurching pull in your heart nonetheless.
“Yeah, like I’m numb to it all now. Comfortably numb. And it’s such a fucking relief.” He closes his eyes for a second, as if he’s savouring the feeling. You’re so intently looking at him that you don’t even notice when he grabs your hand, and his eyes flutter open, “So you forgive me?”
You hesitate, “Steve, I…I don’t know.”
His serene smile freezes on his face, and he drops your hand like it’s a hot poker. You feel it again in your heart, that lurching fee ling that you can’t place. You watch as his face falls, almost in slow motion. And it feels like you’re sitting front row in the cinema, watching his expression turn sad, his eyes clouding over once more like he was depending everything on your forgiveness.
“Okay. Goodbye.”
He stumbles out of your room, out into the stairwell where he trips before grabbing on to the banister.
“Steve, please be careful,” you say again, your tone laced with worry.
He glances back at you, that ever-charming smile back on his face. Back from when you’d seen it that first night when you’d met him. Almost like he’s put on a mask. He gives you a sluggish thumbs-up, “I’ll be fine. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I just hope it lasts…”
What the hell did that mean? Should you go after him? You hear your phone vibrate loudly, and you glance back at your bed to see it glowing with several new texts. But then you look back at the stairwell to find it empty. He was gone. Gone like a gust of wind. Gone like he was never there.
But he was. You can still feel him on your lips.
As if in a dream, you float back into your room and pick up your phone. Two new texts.
Sharon: We’re five minutes away! Traffic’s crazy lol.
Ari: Hey. I just want to say that I’m happy you’re coming tonight. Even if we don’t get to speak, just know you’ll be on my mind all night. Fuck. That was cheesy. Anyways. See you there :).
You sink down on your bed, already feeling exhausted and mentally drained. Despite the fact that the night was nowhere near over yet. In fact, it hadn’t even begun.
***
“Where’s Curtis?” Wanda wonders aloud, scanning the sprawling banquet hall and immediately grabbing a flute of champagne from an elegantly dressed waiter holding a tray full of them.
The banquet hall where the gala is being held at the Hilton is reasonably full, and you recognise a bunch of familiar faces from campus – both students and professors. Everyone’s dressed smartly – the men in tuxedos and the women in evening gowns and dresses. Sharon and the decorating committee have done a great job; each table swathed in ivory cloth, with red rose centrepieces and golden gilded chairs. Matching golden lights against an otherwise dark room gives an almost ethereal ambiance.
“He’s probably over on table 2 with the rest of the basketball team,” Sharon nods to a table at the front of the room near the stage. “I did the seating arrangements and the place-cards.”
Predictably, table 2 is the rowdiest table in the entire banquet hall. Clearly, the basketball team didn’t give two fucks about what was considered proper black-tie etiquette. You can see Ransom Drysdale and Andy Barber having some kind of a drinking competition, chugging down wine glass after wine glass as if they were cans of beer. Lloyd is acting like their referee, half on top of the table as he tries eggs them on. Colin is laughing his head off as he looks to be live-streaming this whole performance on his phone. And then there’s Ari.
And oh, he looks so breathtaking! Your heart physically skips a beat when you see him. His brown hair slicked back sexily, but the ends curling around his stiff white collar. His tuxedo looks well-tailored and expensive – Armani probably – and a white bow tie that makes him look more handsome than ever. He’s sat in the middle of his table, looking very much like the leader of his group. A smirk on his face as he watches his teammates horse around, but then his eyes meet yours, and the cocky smirk turns into the most adorably lovesick smile that does not look like it belongs on his face – only because you’ve never really seen him smile like that ever before.
“Oh gosh, there’s Ari,” Sharon says, coming up closer to your side and making you snap your eyes away from her ex-boyfriend immediately. The blonde takes a few deeps breaths to calm herself, “And he’s looking straight at me! Well, who cares? I’m not gonna let him affect my night. In fact, I’m gonna go over to him to prove how unbothered I am–”
Before you know what’s happening, she starts making a beeline straight over to table 2 – with you in tow! Wanda follows, her eyes still searching the room for Curtis as she downs her champagne quickly.
“Hello, Ari,” Sharon says stiffly, hanging on to your arm for dear life. You hope you don’t look as mortified as you feel, watching as Ari looks up at the two of you, his charming little smile still on his face.
“Hi.” He answers her, giving her a quick nod before his eyes shift to you, and you see them sparkle as he looks you up and down, taking in your emerald dress, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards again in another sweet little smile. Oh God, damn him for being so obvious!
“Well, I just came here to congratulate you on your award,” Sharon says, a determinedly happy-yet-nonchalant look plastered on her face. “So, well, congratulations.”
Ari nods again, physically tearing his eyes away from you, “Thanks.”
“Where’s Curtis, you guys?” Wanda interrupts the awkward exchange, looking expectantly at the basketball team. You watch as she grabs another champagne from another cocktail waiter who happens to pass by, downing it as quickly as she had the first.
Ransom snickers, “He’s somewhere around here, sweetheart. But I wouldn’t bother him if I was you, he’s kinda busy.”
Wanda doesn’t even wait for him to finish his sentence before she’s off, weaving across the banquet hall at lightning speed. You watch her, mildly concerned as she grabs yet another glass of champagne, her previous one still in her other hand. She’d been antsy the whole ride over, because apparently Curtis wasn’t texting her back, and hadn’t since last night.
“She’s already a mess,” Sharon murmurs to you under her breath before smiling brightly at Ari, “Well, see you around, Ari.”
He nods at her for the third time, before his eyes rest on you once more. There’s a hint of yearning within them, and his lips twitch as if he wants to say something. Oh, when did it get so easy to read his expressions? Did you know him that well now? He gives you a soft, private smile – one you know is meant just for you. One that seems to convey a thousand words in just a single twitch of a muscle. You almost return it, before remembering who you’re with.
“Thank God, he didn’t bring her,” Sharon mutters to you as the two of you walk away from jock table.
“Huh?”
“The little skank he cheated on me with. I would’ve died if he brought her along as his date.”
You gulp, eyeing one of the champagne flutes yourself. After tonight, you absolutely had to come clean to Sharon. There was no other choice, you’d kept this secret long enough. And if it meant she’d no longer be your friend, then so be it. You deserved that. But no more excuses, you had to tell her tonight after this event was over.
And the event itself is fine. You hang out with Sharon while she makes small talk with a bunch of different people. You don’t talk much, simply staying quiet and observing. People’s outfits, their makeup, their shoes, everything. It’s nice to be out and about again, after spending what felt like an eternity rotting in your dorm room and feeling sorry for yourself. You even find yourself catching Ari’s eye every now and again, and each and every time he’d give you his sweet little private smile that made you want to die. You’d look away, of course, or busy yourself with talking to Sharon or someone else, just so you wouldn’t smile back. Even though you wanted to. You really, really wanted to.
You do get a handful of texts from him though.
Ari: You look beautiful.
Ari: I can’t take my eyes off you.
Ari: Seriously, I don’t think you realise how beautiful you look right now.
You don’t reply, but you know he can see you looking down at your phone and smiling like crazy.
About a half hour into the gala, the hosts beckon everyone to sit at their assigned tables because the award ceremony is about to begin. That’s when you notice that Wanda’s been missing for a while now. You scan the room while a retired basketball coach hobbles his way onto the stage, beginning a very long-winded speech on how he’d single-handedly led the St. Andrews’ team to victory back in 1993. Where the hell was Wanda? You realise you’ve been so wrapped up in the event and playing secret smiling games with Ari from across the room to notice that you hadn’t seen her since the three of you had arrived here.
Luckily, you spot her stumbling towards the bathrooms that are in a corridor off the main banquet hall. Stumbling being the key word, and you quietly curse yourself for allowing her to drink so much. God, Ari was just so distracting! Even when you weren’t even speaking to him, just his presence alone was making you forget about everyone else!
You tell Sharon you’re going to get Wanda before quietly sneaking away, hoping to discreetly bring her back before she wanders off somewhere else. You just hope
“Wanda, hey! Wait up!” You catch up to her, “Let’s go back to the banquet hall.”
Wanda rolls her eyes, “Leave me alone, Y/N. I’m looking for my boyfriend.”
Oh. She still hadn’t found him yet?
“C’mon, our table’s this way,” you try again, grabbing her hand, about to lead her away. Then you notice her eyes light up as she looks beyond your shoulder.
“Baby, there you are!” Wanda slurs brightly, snatching her hand out of your grip and making a beeline down the hall. You whip around to see Curtis closing the bathroom door behind him, his other hand wiping his mouth. His tie loose around his neck and top collar button undone. And you also see a tiny brunette in a silver dress slip out of the bathroom behind him, the dim lights of the hallway swallowing her up as she slinks away into the darkness, Wanda not even noticing her.
“Wanda.” Curtis blinks, looking entirely unperturbed. “You’re here.”
She hits him playfully on the shoulder, “Of course, I’m here. I came with the girls, remember? And I wanted to support you!”
He scratches the back of his head, “Yeah. Cool. Look, I’m gonna go back to the boys–”
“Great, let’s go!” Wanda links her arm with his, making his jaw tense and eyebrow raise. And you watch this whole ordeal with a sinking feeling in your stomach.
“Babe, remember how I told you this event was a no date kind of thing?” Curtis carefully peels himself away from her, making her pout. You cringe when she doesn’t get the message, grabbing his bicep again, her manicured nails like talons holding on with all her might.
“But I missed you, baby,” Wanda smiles up at him drunkenly. “I’ve been looking for you all night!”
Curtis visibly cringes, “Come on, babe, don’t be like this.” Again, he dislodges his arm from her grip, pushing her off of him not-so-gently. “I’m here with the team tonight, but I promise I’ll come by your room later. Maybe. Like way after midnight probably.”
You can’t hide your disgust, openly frowning and shaking your head at him. God, why did all men suck so much?
“Come on, Wanda,” You grab her hand once more, “You don’t need him to enjoy your night. Let’s go.”
“Um, fuck off, Y/N, I’m talking to my boyfriend right now.” Wanda pushes you off her before sidling up to Curtis again.
You gape at her, feeling a pang of hurt. She’s just drunk, she didn’t mean to say that…
Curtis sighs, rolling his eyes, “Listen to your friend, Wanda. I gotta go.”
“I’ll come with you!”
For a third time, she grabs on to his arm tightly. That’s when Curtis huffs, clearly annoyed.
“Look, I don’t know what you think is going on between us, but stop acting like we’re in some serious relationship or whatever.” He says, a frown bordering on disgust on his face as he shakes her hand off of him.
Wanda gapes, and even your mouth drops open. How dare he? How fucking rude!
“Baby, you don’t mean that–”
“I mean sure, we have fun together but please don’t get the wrong idea, Wanda. You can’t just chase me down at these public events like you own me or something. That’s not how this works. In fact, all it does is make you look kind of desperate.” He continues, getting his phone out and nonchalantly scrolling through it as if this whole painful conversation isn’t even worth his time.
How the hell was he speaking to his own girlfriend like that?
“I-I’m sorry for being desperate, Curtis,” Wanda says earnestly, her eyes wild and pupils dilated, “Please, don’t do this! Don’t break up with me like this!”
He rolls his eyes, “Do what? I’m not doing anything! I can’t break up with someone who was never my girlfriend to begin with. Sure, we had fun for a few weeks but it’s not like we were ever exclusive, let alone dating. You were too clingy for my liking anyways.”
“Curtis, that’s enough!” You admonish, your heart breaking for poor Wanda. Curtis was a joke.  You can’t believe he’s standing here denying he was ever in a relationship with her. Hell, you’d been a third wheel to them enough times in the past month to know the two of them had definitely been a thing. How the hell was he just so casually gaslighting her now, as if none of that ever happened? God, you would never understand men!
Curtis glances at you, a devilish twinkle in his eye before he turns to Wanda again, “Hell, I’m pretty sure I tried to sleep with your friend Y/N before I settled for you that night at the party.”
“Oh, you’re such an asshole!” You explode, pulling Wanda away, “Stay away from her, you piece of shit! C’mon, Wanda.”
What you haven’t noticed is Wanda standing deathly still. She snatches her hand away from you, a look of absolute loathing, shock and betrayal on her face. And a part of you wants to see her give an asshole like Curtis a piece of her mind. But then she turns to face you, her eyes drunk and accusatory.
“Y-You…” she points at you, swaying in her heels from all the alcohol in her system, “You slept with my boyfriend?”
“What? No, he tried to sleep with me, but I wasn’t interested. It really wasn’t a big deal–” You try to hold her hand to calm her down, hoping she doesn’t make a big scene.
“Later, ladies.” Curtis grins, squeezing past the two of you and strutting over to table 2 with the rest of his team. You watch him for a moment, slack-jawed at his nonchalance and how badly he’d just hurt your friend.
“I can’t believe you!” Wanda hisses, pulling away from you yet again. “I can’t believe you slept with him!”
You shake your head desperately, “No, no, no! I didn’t sleep with him! That’s not what he said!” You take a deep breath, stopping yourself from raising your own voice out of desperation to get her to understand. Instead, you speak slowly: “Wanda, I did not sleep with Curtis. Yes, he did try it on with me ages ago but nothing happened.”
“You’re the biggest bitch in the world, Y/N! I can’t believe you slept with him!” Wanda sputters, tears welling in her drunken eyes. It’s like her brain has only selectively heard what he’d said and is running with it, and she’s unable to compute what you’re saying to her now. “I knew you weren’t above sleeping with other people’s boyfriends but I never thought you’d do it to me!”
“No, please, just listen! You’re not understanding–”
“Let go of me!” She bats your hands off her when you try to grab her again, backing away and stumbling out into the main banquet hall. “Don’t even speak to me again, Y/N! How dare you sleep with Curtis?! When you knew how much me and him meant to each other!”
Helplessly, you watch her as she marches across the banquet hall, and you trail behind her with a lump in your throat. You’d have to wait until she was sober to explain things to her properly, which was another conversation you weren’t looking forward to. But for now, you just watch her, hoping she doesn’t injure herself with how determinedly she’s walking. You expect her to head towards Curtis’ table, which is why you freeze when she walks straight past him and up towards the stage.
The retired basketball coach is just about done with his speech, and you nervously rejoin Sharon who is also looking at Wanda climbing up the stairs of the stage with a confused look on her face.
“We need to go get her,” you murmur.
“Why, hello young lady,” the retired basketball coach greets Wanda warmly, “Are you here to present the first award?”
Both you and Sharon spot Wanda eyeing the microphone with a gleam in her eye, and the two of you stand up in unison, exchanging alarmed looks.
But Wanda is quick, bumping the retired coach out of the way with her hip. She grabs the mic, tapping it quickly many times in succession. A high-pitched feedback echoes across the room, and more eyes turn towards her from all the other tables in the hall. The retired coach gives her a confused smile before shrugging and slowly hobbling away. A number of stagehands look on in confusion, checking their clipboards to see if this was part of the show.
And that’s when Wanda starts talking.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I have an award of my own!” She grips on to the mic like a vice, teetering on the middle of the stage. Her hair’s messy, her face stained with dried up tears. The straps of her dress slipping down her shoulders, and the half empty wine glass still in her hand, the remaining contents of it sloshing out onto the polished wooden floor.
“What the hell is she doing?” Sharon whispers from beside you. All around you, everyone in the banquet hall is whispering amongst themselves, and now all eyes are glued to your drunken best friend on stage. The tables full of professors, coaches and alumni all look around in bewilderment, frowning as if Wanda being on stage is all part of some kind of skit before the award ceremony.
You glance over at the jocks on table 2. Ari shoots you a perplexed look, Ransom’s got his phone camera out, Andy’s grinning from ear to ear. Colin has the decency to look away, an embarrassed look on his face. And Curtis? Curtis leans back on his chair, an amused look on his face as if he’s ready to kick back and enjoy the show.
That means it’s all up to you.
“Wanda!” You hiss, glad that your table is close enough to the stage that she can hear you, “Wanda, you’re drunk. C’mon, let’s go to the bathroom so I can fix you up.”
She looks down at you and smirks evilly, before looking away as if she hasn’t even heard you. Instead, she once more taps the mic once, twice, three times. She giggles drunkenly, “Testing, testing, is this thing on?”
“Wanda, babe, come down please!” Sharon joins in, but she also gets promptly ignored. She bites her lip before turning to you, “God, how did we not realise how drunk she’d gotten? She’s gonna make a fool of herself.”
“Wanda!” You try again, raising your voice slightly, “Come down, Wanda, please! The awards ceremony is about to begin!”
“It’s already begun! And like I said, I have an award of my own,” Wanda says, looking beyond you but never fully at you. You can see her lip curled slightly, and either it’s a smile or a sneer – you can’t really tell. But it makes your blood run cold, and a strong sense of foreboding washes over you again, like how it had earlier in your bedroom.
Quickly, you make your way over to the stage, hoping to pull her off before she said anything to embarrass herself too much. And it’s when you’re climbing up the stairs at the side of the stage that she resumes speaking:
“I know you’re all here for some… some random basketball award,” Wanda slurs, “But I wanna get my award out of the way first. And it’s the award for St. Andrews’ college’s biggest fucking slut.”
You’re halfway up the stage by now, and it’s when you step up on to the polished wooden floor that you pause, her words sinking in and a horrific feeling dawning on you. Oh no…
“And look! Here she is, the slut herself!” Wanda cheers, pointing straight at you with an unsteady hand. She throws her head back and laughs, her other hand gripping on to the mic for dear life. “Everybody, please give it up for Y/N! She already knows she’s the winner, nobody else could ever compare! Y/N is undoubtedly the biggest fucking slut on campus, and she wholeheartedly deserves this fucking award!”
Pin drop silence. For the first second, that’s all you hear. Silence that’s so loud, it’s almost deafening. Ringing in your ears, closing in on you like a siren. Then, you feel the waves of heat. Red hot fire radiating all over your body. Your face, your arms, your neck. Everywhere. You can’t quite believe what’s happening, but you know there’s a banquet hall filled with strangers staring straight at you as if you’re swathed in a spotlight.
“Curtis, get your girl the fuck off the stage!” You hear Ari say somewhere in the distance, and you can see him getting to his feet.
“No fucking way, that bitch isn’t my problem anymore.” Curtis whispers back, a note of glee in his tone.
You remain frozen on stage, your heart thrumming up to your throat. Wanda cackles, drunkenly beckoning you closer. Someone – either a professor or a coach – tries to coax her off the stage but she bats him away as if he’s an insignificant fly.
“C’mon, Y/N! Don’t be shy, come accept your award!” Wanda holds up her now empty wine glass as if it’s a trophy, “Ladies and gentlemen, don’t be mistaken! Y/N isn’t normally this shy! I mean, she certainly wasn’t when she fucked my boyfriend!”
A hushed gasp fills the hall, followed by a host of whispers. There’s a tiny voice inside you, telling you to run. Just run, run, run away from it all. But your feet don’t move, firmly planted in place as your whole body buzzes with heat and the lump in your throat gets bigger and bigger. Why was Wanda doing this? Oh God, what was happening!?
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Ari scrape his chair back and stride over to the stage, a venomous look on his face. At the same time, you feel a warm hand on your shoulder as Sharon comes up the steps to stand beside you.
“Wanda, honey, that’s enough.” Sharon says softly, holding her other hand out to your drunken friend. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
“Don’t you honey me,” Wanda spits out, “And don’t look at me as if I’m some sort of fool. If anyone’s a fool, it’s you, Sharon!”
Oh no. You feel yourself going light-headed.
That’s when Ari jumps up on stage, looking huge and menacing as he strides over to Wanda. He grabs her by the upper arm roughly, “Carla, shut the fuck up right now if you know what’s good for you,” He hisses.
“Well look who it is! Mister Knight in Shining Armour, here to save the fucking day!” Wanda laughs, and at least she’s not speaking into the mic anymore, but did it even matter? “Y/N doesn’t need your help, Ari! She’s a fucking slut who enjoys sleeping with other people’s boyfriends, and she’s proud of it! You’re proud of it, aren’t you, Y/N!?”
You’re in no condition to answer her question. Now, your body seems to be experiencing rapid hot and cold flushes. Icicles, then fire, then icicles, then fire again. And your face feels like it’s been stabbed by a thousand pins and needles. It’s a sensation you’ve never felt before, almost like an out of body experience. Like you’re floating except it feels terrible instead of liberating, and there’s absolutely no way for you to escape the impending doom.
Someone’s directed the live band to start playing again, and the room fills with music to combat the earth-shattering silence. But you know everyone’s eyes are still on the spectacle that’s taking place on stage. Everyone’s looking at you. And it’s like all your insecurities from the past month had come back in full force. Except so much worse, because now everyone thinks you’re a slut.
To your horror, Wanda goes to speak into the mic again. But Ari quickly snatches it out of her hands, throwing it aside and shooting her a glare, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
“Okay, Wanda, you’ve made your point,” Sharon interjects gently. “I don’t know why you’d spread all these lies about your own best friend who’s been nothing but good to you, but it’s done now. Let’s just go.” Again, she reaches for Wanda’s hand, only for the latter to shoot her a sneer.
“Stop acting so holier-than-thou, Sharon. You’re not worth shit anymore, not since you got dumped,” Wanda laughs, suddenly aware of who exactly is on stage with her. She glances from you to Ari to Sharon, a look of evil glee spreading across her drunken features. “Why don’t you ask Ari again why he dumped you? Or better yet, why don’t you ask your new best friend Y/N?”
The band’s now playing an upbeat song, the lead singer urging everyone to get up on the dance floor in a bid to distract them. A few people do, but most stay planted in their seats, their focus still on the stage. Not that any of that even matters, not when Wanda’s words hit you like a ton of bricks. Out of your peripheral, you sense Sharon inhale sharply from next to you, and a deep feeling of dread starts spreading across your chest.
“Curtis, get the fuck up here and deal with her,” Ari seethes through gritted teeth. Curtis rolls his eyes, slowly making his way up to the stage like a panther going on a leisurely stroll.
“She sleeps with everyone’s boyfriend!” Wanda explodes, pointing another accusatory finger at you. “She doesn’t care about ruining relationships, all Y/N cares about is herself, Sharon! That’s why she’s been sleeping with Ari for months behind your back! And I kept her secret because I was being a good friend to her! Little did I know she fucked my boyfriend too!”
“That’s it, you’re fucking done,” Ari yanks Wanda off the stage, roughly pushing her down the steps all while keeping an iron grip on her forearm.
Thankfully, and yet a little too late, a stage hand drops the curtains. Dramatically, they fall down, shielding you from the stare and gossip of the audience. But you don’t feel any better. No, all you feel is pure, frozen shock. And the chaotic pantomime continues, even with the stage curtains now drawn.
“She’s been fucking Ari this whole time! She even fucked him out in the open at that frat party. In front of everyone, because that’s the type of slut she is!” Wanda cries out, stumbling over her words that act like bullets directed straight for Sharon. And, of course, you. “And she fucked Curtis too that night! Like the biggest fucking whore in the whole world! It’s true ‘cause he just told me! And God knows what she did with Steve, she probably let him smash too! As if slutting around on one campus wasn’t enough, she had to target a guy from a different college, and–”
She’s cut off by Ari plastering his huge hand over her mouth, all while she struggles and fights against him. He continues dragging her down the steps before throwing her into Curtis’ arms. Immediately, Wanda pacifies, grabbing on to Curtis for dear life while the buzzcut-haired man holds her gingerly.
“Get her out of here. I don’t care where the fuck you take her, I just want her gone.” Ari orders, narrowing his eyes when Curtis opens his mouth, “Don’t fucking argue with me, Everett. Go.”
Curtis rolls his eyes again, cautiously taking hold of Wanda who shuts up momentarily when she notices who’s holding her. She looks up at him with shining drunken eyes. “Curtis! You came back for me! Oh, I forgive you for fucking Y/N! I know she’s a huge slut and she probably seduced you! It wasn’t your fault at all, baby, I know that! Please let me be your girlfriend again, Curtis, please, I’ll do anything–”
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Curtis grunts as he drags Wanda towards the exit. Thankfully, she’s docile enough in his arms, and easily goes with him.
Leaving carnage in her wake.
They all think I’m a slut, you think it again, still frozen in place. And I am! I am, I am, I am! I’m a backstabbing slut and this is what I deserve. Total public humiliation.
You pull yourself out of whatever catatonic state your body wants to shut you down into. The stage curtains are drawn and you’re protected from all the stares of the guests, and yet you feel like you can still hear the buzz of their whispers. The gossip formulating, your name on the tips of all their tongues. Spoken with disdain and disgust. Oh, you want nothing more than to just shut down and disappear. But you can’t. You can’t shut down yet, not yet. Instead, you force yourself to face Sharon head on, and come clean about what you should’ve come clean about ages ago.
“Sharon, please, just let me expl–”
“It’s not true, is it?” Sharon says slowly. Her cheeks look red, her eyes stricken, as if Wanda’s drunken bombshell has reached out and slapped her across the face. Her mouth downturned as if she’s about to cry, and yet she’s using every fibre of her being to hold herself together.
Ari chooses that moment to come up next to you, instinctively putting his hand on your shoulder. And Sharon looks from him to you back to him again. And then her face falls, and it’s like it’s all happening in slow motion and you’ve got a front row seat to someone’s heart being broken in real-time. Her face crumples as realisation dawns on her, and a whimpering sound leaves her mouth.
“It is true…” She breathes.
“I am so, so sorry,” You begin, not even knowing how to start. You feel numb and disorientated, like Wanda’s screaming expose has hit you like a freight train you may never recover from. And yet you know not to be selfish enough to make it all about you in this moment, not when Sharon looks so betrayed right in front of you. And yet a tear rolls down your cheek as you look at her, “Sharon, please understand how sorry I am. I know I should’ve told you before, there’s literally no excuse–”
“You’re right, there isn’t.” She cuts you off coldly, but the iciness doesn’t reach her eyes which shine with a mix of tears and betrayal. “How could you? You were supposed to be my friend. Th-This whole time I thought you were my friend…”
“Hey, leave her alone,” Ari interjects, positioning himself in front of you protectively. “If you want to be angry at someone, be angry at me. She’s already been through enough tonight.”
“DON’T YOU DARE DEFEND HER, YOU LYING PIECE OF SHIT!” Sharon bursts out in a blaze of fury, “For once in your life, show me a little bit of respect and don’t fucking defend the girl you cheated on me with right to my face! I was your girlfriend once upon a time, Ari. And you act like it meant nothing.”
Her voice breaks at the end, and she fiercely wipes away her tears. It smears up her makeup too, but she looks like she’s past the point of caring.
“All I’m saying is to leave Y/N out of this, Sharon. Whatever happened between me and her wasn’t her fault at all. You and I can discuss this privately.” Ari says, his tone hard and serious. He’s standing tall, as if being exposed for your joint betrayal has him completely unfazed. You, on the other hand, feel like you’re about two feet tall.
Sharon looks at Ari incredulously, before her eyes shift back to you as if she can’t help it. “I trusted you, Y/N.” She says brokenly, “I..I liked you. I liked you so much. You have no idea how much I…” Her voice trails off for a second before it hardens: “…and this whole time you were going behind my back.”
You swallow harshly, “I’m so sorry. Please, I know what I’ve done is unforgivable. But just believe me when I tell you that I’m so, so genuinely sorry. Wh-When me and Ari started… I didn’t even know you back then and I know that doesn’t excuse it–”
“IT DOESN’T EXCUSE IT!” Sharon screams, and beyond her shoulder you can see a few people peeping through the curtains as if to continue watching the show. “It doesn’t excuse it at all, Y/N! You had so many chances where you could’ve come clean to me, but you chose to lie to my fucking face.” She laughs bitterly, as if she can’t believe all this is actually happening. “Oh God, how stupid could I have been? All those times when I was crying to you about my breakup, or when I was trying to help you get through your boy troubles… All that time you were sleeping with Ari and I never suspected a damn thing?! Oh, you must’ve been laughing your ass off behind my back!”
You scramble to explain yourself, you want to say more, but it’s like your throat’s closing up now. Like you’re experiencing some type of allergic reaction. Your skin feels like it’s crawling, like your self-disgust has just boiled over the edge and you’re covered in the shame and guilt that’s been festering inside you. Except it’s now also mixed with the sheer humiliation from everything you’ve just experienced. What could you possibly say to explain yourself? She was right. She was one thousand percent right.
They were all right about you, the voice in your head cackles. Steve and Wanda and probably everyone else who’s thinking it right now. You’re a slut.
“Leave her the fuck alone, Sharon.” Ari threatens lowly, dropping his hand from your shoulder and taking a menacing step towards the blonde. “I mean it. Not another word.”
Sharon tilts her head, and you find her looking at you. Really looking at you. As if she’s searching the plains of your face to detect the level of your honesty. And you want to look away, want to look down because of how humiliated you are. But you look back at her meekly, feeling like a fucking backstabbing rat. Oh God, why had you not just come clean to her weeks ago when the two of you had first started becoming friends? Were you truly that spineless? Were you really that much of a coward?
“Get out.” Sharon says coldly, the hurt on her face now replaced with an impenetrable mask of stone-cold indifference. “Get out of here, Y/N. I don’t want to look at you. I thought we were friends but it’s like I don’t even know you. And I never knew you. So just get out of here. GET OUT!”
Her venomous words make you jump. Your lower lip quivers, and you feel like the dirt at the bottom of everyone’s shoe. Ari turns around, tries to grab your hand but you back away quickly. Your heel catches on something and you stumble. Regaining your balance, you see Ari coming towards you, and Sharon staring you down from behind him. The pity and concern in his eyes, the pure betrayal in hers. Oh, you don’t want any of it! You just wish you’d disappear!
You take off into a run, your heels clacking on the wooden floor noisily but you don’t care. You do exactly what Sharon’s told you to do – you run. Gathering up your dress so it doesn’t get caught in your shoes. Oh, and who cares if it did? Who cares at all? Certainly not you.
You run out into the full banquet hall, trying not to meet anyone’s gaze. Trying to block out what they’re whispering. You know they’re talking about you; you know they’re looking at you as if you’re the biggest backstabbing whore in the whole world. Which you are. Oh, how spectacularly everything had fallen apart!
Somewhere behind you, you can hear Ari calling out your name. But you don’t stop, don’t look back. Not this time. You weave through the crowd, your tears blurring your vision but you don’t dare stop. Out into the hotel lobby, down the marble steps adorned in grand red carpeting with gold tassels. Feeling like a warped Cinderella who wasn’t the helpless princess after all, but instead the backstabbing villain. Out the front entrance, and the doorman stares at you but you don’t care, and the outside cold hits you like a ton of bricks.
As if on cue, the wind roars loudly, slapping you in the face with all its might and fury. And you remember earlier tonight, when you’d wondered whether the winds had been trying to warn you about something. Oh, your intuition had been right! Why hadn’t you just stayed at home?! Now, the wind swirls around you threateningly, and you just stand there in the bitter cold, as if daring it to attack you. All around you, the grass rustles, the trees cower, the very ground seems to shake as gust after gust hits at you, and your hair comes loose, and you’re about to start crying in earnest, and–
“Y/N, wait! Stop!” Ari grabs your hand, his familiar warmth shooting through your entire body. He pulls you into his arms, embracing you fiercely. Your burst into ferocious tears that you hadn’t realised you’d been holding in. Loud, wracking sobs muffled by his strong chest as he holds you close. “I’m so sorry that happened, baby. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”
“I did!” You cry, another gust of wind hitting you like a wake-up call, and you push off of him with tears streaming down your face. “I did deserve it, Ari! I deserved all of it!”
There’s an invisible whirlpool around the two of you. Maybe you’re imagining it in your delirium, but it’s like a swirling of energy, entrapping the two of you together on this stormy night. The wind howls around you both, ringing in your ears as if to warn you again, telling you this is all wrong, wrong, wrong!
And Ari looks at you like his whole heart’s in his eyes, and they glisten with emotion that you’ve never seen in him before. And he holds you close, and cups your face. He wipes your tears as if to soothe you, but how could you soothe someone who was so beyond repair that perhaps repair wasn’t even an option anymore? How!?
“Let me take you home,” he whispers, “I don’t want you to be alone tonight. Please, let’s just go. And I swear I’ll deal with everything; I’ll deal with all of them. I’ll make them pay for hurting you. Just please, stop crying and come with me.”
“No!” You snatch your hand out of his and step back, shaking your head fiercely. “Don’t you get it, Ari? We’re not right together and we never will be!”
“That’s not true–”
“Yes, it is!” You sob freely, “How many people do we have to hurt for it to sink in that we just don’t work?” Ferociously, you wipe at your tears, not that it matters when new one’s flow down your cheeks freely, “All we ever do is fight, Ari! We just run around in circles and fight and hurt each other and hurt everyone around us! And now I know it’s ‘cause we just don’t work, and we never will!”
“No.” Ari says firmly, “I’m the one who hurt people, okay? Not us. Just me. And you got caught in the crossfire and I’m fucking sorry.”
You shake your head, “It doesn’t matter anymore. None of it matters, Ari. They all think I’m a slut and they’re all right! And I’ll never live this down and I don’t deserve to live it down! So just leave me alone, okay? JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!”
“NO!” Ari roars, louder than the wind itself, and louder than you too. “No, I’m not fucking leaving you alone! I told you that I care about you, and I’m never gonna leave you alone. So just… just come on. Let me take you home, baby. I’ll make it better, I promise.”
The blustering winds form an impenetrable current around the two of you, whistling and swirling with rogue leaves like a tornado that you seem to be trapped in with him. And in an ironic way, it perfectly encapsulates your relationship with him: a whirlwind. A tornado. A constant uphill battle filled with fights and arguments, always one step forward and then two steps back. Maybe it was time to just give up, to come to terms with how it just didn’t work between you and him.
You sniffle weakly, “Nothing can make this better. Whatever there was between us, it was never going to work. Not when it started out as a lie.”
Tenderly, yet charged with an electric emotion you can’t quite pinpoint, he cups your face again. Your freezing wet cheeks welcome the warmth they bring, despite everything.
“I’ll make it better,” Ari repeats, softer this time. He presses his forehead against yours. “You mean more to me than Sharon or anyone else ever did. And I know our relationship started out wrong because I lied to you. Constantly. I know that. But I promise you I’ll make it all better and you’ll never hurt again how you’re hurting now.”
You feel like you’re at a crossroads. You’ve gone through more emotional turmoil in these past few weeks than you have in any other point of your life. And each time, you’ve fallen back into Ari’s arms in a heap of tears. So, what about this time? Would you do the same thing again? Another circle? Another fight? Another heartbreak?
“I’m in love with you.” Ari breathes. And in that moment, even the winds stand still. And his eyes look like twin oceans with stars scattered inside them. And those stars in his eyes, those stars get bigger and bigger till they’re all you can see. And you can’t hear anything anymore, except for his breathing and yours. And you can feel only one thing, and that’s his hands cupping your cheeks as he gazes at you with a look of desperation mixed with something else. Something passionate. And honest. “I’m in love with you, okay? I’ve never been in love before but I’m pretty positive that I love you, and I promise I’ll protect you from ever being hurt again.”
In the distance, beyond his shoulder, a branch from a tree falls to the ground. As if unable to stand the wrath of the wind on this night. It crashes down, all the way down till it’s no longer a part of what it had once always known. You focus on it for a split second, before some kind of magnetic pull makes you look back to Ari.
“Why does it always take some sort of traumatic event for you to say these things?” You whisper, letting his words bounce off you. Not letting them permeate into your heart and set camp, not allowing them to let you hope. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted to hear from him!?
“I’ve felt this way for a while,” he says earnestly, “I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. But I told you, I’m ready now. For everything. I love you, and I want everyone to know it.” He draws you closer, cradling your face in his warm hands. How are they so warm on such a cold night? How was he so warm when you felt so cold, cold, cold?! So freezing cold from the inside out?
I love you. I’m in love with you. I promise I’ll protect you. I love you. I love you. I love you.
Oh, his words were finding their way into your heart! You take a timid step closer, allow yourself to look into his eyes. Everything was crashing and burning around you. Your life was ruined, and so was your reputation. Everyone thought you were a slut and you had no friends left at all. But Ari was here. Solid. Real. Right in front of you. Saying all the right things on a night that had gone so horrifically wrong. Should you allow yourself this? Did you deserve it? Did he?
His lips have barely brushed against yours when you hear a loud shatter right next to you.
“You told me you weren’t going to be with him tonight.”
Steve. Standing less than a foot away from you. A glass bottle lying broken by his feet, the smell of vodka strongly emanating from him. His hair falls over his forehead, swaying gently in the roaring wind. His eyes black, blown out, barely there. Hooded, like he’s sad. Betrayed. Oh, how did he even get here!?
Your jaw drops open, “Steve, I–”
“How fucking dare you show your face in front of her after everything you put her through?” Ari growls, pushing you behind him before squaring up to Steve. “Get the fuck out of here, Rogers. Before I break your neck.”
You swallow harshly, “Ari, don’t…”
Steve sidesteps Ari, and those sad eyes look straight at you. Penetrating down straight to your soul.
“You kissed me earlier tonight, but now you’re choosing him.”
He says it matter-of-factly, his words slurring slightly but still clear as day. You feel a pang in your heart. From your peripheral, you see Ari bristle at Steve’s words, clearly taken aback by what he’s just revealed.
You open your mouth, but it feels all dried up. Like you’re back in the middle of the stage with an audience of people watching you get exposed for your betrayal.
“You don’t have to answer him.” Ari says to you, quickly recovering and grabbing your hand protectively before turning back to sneer at Steve. “Get the hell out of here. Tonight isn’t the night for your bullshit.”
“He’ll only hurt you,” Steve says, ignoring Ari and looking directly at you. “I told you; all Ari ever does is hurt people.”
“Shut your fucking mouth, Steve, or else I’ll–”
“Or else you’ll what, Ari? I don’t give a fuck what you do.” Steve finally looks at the brunet, squaring up to him till they’re both face to face. Each as big as the other, each as menacing as the other. But that’s where the similarities end. Ari looks wary, on edge. And Steve? Steve looks like he has nothing left to lose.
“Oh yeah? Is that why you’ve been dodging me all these weeks?” Ari barks out a laugh, but it sounds hollow, almost forced. And his eyes keep darting between Steve and back to you. “I’m telling you for the last time, Rogers. Walk away so she doesn’t have to see me kill you.”
“Stop acting like some kind of fucking hero, Ari. You of all people should know that’s not what you are.” Steve fires back, “You’ll hurt her, just like you hurt–”
“My car’s parked around the corner. You know what it looks like. Go, I don’t want you to see this.” Ari says to you, his hand dropping yours as he keeps his eyes on the blonde in front of him. You watch as his fists clench by his sides.
There’s a pause before Steve laughs. And just like Ari’s from earlier, Steve’s laugh sounds hollow too. Like neither of them are enjoying this confrontation. And neither are you, and yet your feet remain planted to the ground. The winds are still howling around you, encasing the three of you in a whirlpool. And within it, you sense the strongest feeling of foreboding you’ve felt yet.
“You still haven’t told her, have you?” Steve accuses.
A dark, anxious feeling pools inside your chest, twisting your veins, reaching straight for your heart. More secrets? “Tell me what, Ari?”
“Go to my car, I’m serious.”
“I heard your little speech from just now. I heard all your promises. How you’ll never hurt her again,” Steve shoves Ari. And it’s a drunken shove, but a hard one. “How you’ll protect her,” another shove, “How you’re in love with her.”
“Shut the fuck up, Steve. You have no idea what you’re–”
“Tell me, is that what you told my sister too?”
Everything stops. Even the wind, with how fierce and mighty it had been all night, comes to a screeching halt. It’s like the grass stops rustling, the trees stop swaying. You think your heart has stopped too. Steve’s sister? Kira? Ari knew her? The dark, anxious feeling doubles up, multiplies in a millisecond. You feel like your insides have turned to tar, and your blood freezes in the worst way possible.
“Wh-What’s he talking about, Ari?” Your question comes out soft, timid. As if you’re afraid of the answer.
Ari’s head whips around, and his cheeks are flushed. His jaw tensed, his eyes wild. Quickly, he shakes his head, “He doesn’t know what he’s saying, okay? Clearly, he’s drunk, and high off of something, and he doesn’t know what he’s saying–”
“WHAT THE FUCK DID KIRA EVER DO TO YOU, ARI?!” Steve erupts, making you jump. Ari flinches too, but Steve closes in on him, his dark eyes blazing. “What did she ever do to you? Except trust you?” He laughs bitterly, “Maybe that was her mistake. Trusting someone like you.” And then he looks straight at you, “Don’t make the same mistake, Y/N. He’ll run you out of this place just like he did my sister.”
Your lower lip quivers, “What do you mean?”
Ari grabs your hand and pulls you back, “Let’s just go. He doesn’t know what he means. He has no fucking clue what he’s talking about.”
Like it’s a hot poker, you pull your hand out of his grip, staring up at him incredulously.
“I have no fucking clue, huh? As if I haven’t been in the same house as her, watching her lock herself up in her room and cry for the past fucking year!” Steve says, and this time he squares up to Ari again, grabbing the brunet’s collar to make him look at him. “As if I haven’t watched her become a fucking shell of her former self, as if I haven’t watched her lose her smile, lose her personality, lose her fucking will to interact with anyone. All because of you!”
Now it’s Ari’s turn to shove Steve, and he does it with full force. Steve stumbles backwards, and Ari looks at him in fury. And yet he doesn’t say anything, nothing at all. And the sticky black tar coats your heart and starts seeping into your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe. Making it hard for you to make sense of what’s going on. Oh god, what exactly was Steve saying?! And why wasn’t Ari denying anything?!
“You can’t even deny it anymore, can you?” Steve spits out, “And now you’re out here actin’ like a fuckin’ superhero, promising Y/N the entire world. Well, why don’t you answer my question, Levinson? Is that what you promised Kira too? Is that what you fucking promised her before you spread those pictures of her to every fucking person you know?”
That’s when you feel like the wind’s been knocked out of you. You feel faint, dizzy. Like you’re no longer real. Ari turns to look at you, and you can’t even begin to decipher his expression but it’s like you no longer want to look at him. Pictures? Like nudes? Ari? Spreading private pictures of Kira around campus??? You shake your head, willing him to say something, to deny it all vehemently.
“She’s my sister,” Steve’s voice breaks, an outpouring of emotion that you’ve never ever seen from him. His face red, his fists clenched but not in anger, more so in desperate sadness. “She’s my sister and you were my friend and you fucking broke her, Ari. She couldn’t handle it, everyone talking about her, laughing at her. You ran her out of school, and you broke her. And now you’re gonna do the same thing to Y/N too.”
Ari swallows, looking stricken how you’ve never seen him look before. He sucks in his breath, and when he speaks, it sounds like it’s a stranger talking: “Don’t even act like you have Y/N’s best interests at heart, after what you did to her. And you have no idea what you’re sayi–”
“This is who he is!” Steve erupts again, this time looking straight at you, “My sister was so fucking trusting, she did whatever he asked her to. She sent him pictures that were supposed to be private, all ‘cause he told her to. She never should’ve trusted an asshole like him but she did, she trusted him with everything she had, and now look at her.” He shakes his head, his entire body shaking from either anger or grief or both. “And Kira, she was so broken over it, she told me never to mention it again to anyone, she made me promise not to. But you need to know who he really is. He’s a fucking asshole who’ll hurt anyone! He hurt Kira, he hurt Sharon, and he’ll hurt you too.”
“Let’s go,” Ari says to you, gathering himself and grabbing your hand, “Let’s just go and I’ll explain everything.”
For the second time, you snatch your hand away from his and shake your head, your mind racing and you think you’re going to be sick. Oh God, how many more times would Ari lie to you? “Don’t touch me.”
“Baby, I said I’d explain–”
“You knew Steve’s sister this whole time?”
“Yes, but–”
“Wh-Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you mention it even once?” Your voice sounds high, like you’re about to start crying from shock. And betrayal. You suck in your breath. He’d been hiding this from you, so what else was he hiding?
He tries to grab your hand again, but you take a step back in disbelief.
“Don’t you dare touch me. Y-You’re a liar! You lied again. You told me you wouldn’t lie to me but you lied again!” Oh, you feel like you don’t even know him anymore! Did you ever truly know him to begin with? You think back to Kira, so anxious that she couldn’t even look you in the eye. Had Ari really hurt her so badly? Spread around nude pictures of her and ruined her life and then continued on with his own as if none of it had even happened? “H-How could you do that to her? How could you–”
Ari opens his mouth to speak, but that’s when Steve tackles him. You scream, caught off-guard as the two behemoths fall to the ground. The wind resumes its wicked gusts, and this time it’s like it’s taunting you. Taunting you for forcing yourself time and time again to live in this fairytale utopia where Ari and you could ever possibly work. Each slap of cold air on your face reminding you that nothing, nothing in the whole world, could ever make the two of you work.
And maybe it was written in the stars, maybe this fight was bound to happen between the two of them. And yet you can’t make sense of it, watching with stricken horror as Steve grabs Ari’s collar again.
“You sick, twisted bastard! Fuck you for ruining my sister!” Steve punches him, but Ari quickly dodges it. And Steve’s movements are slower, sluggish. You feel sick thinking of how much he’s had to drink tonight. He was already drunk hours ago when he’d showed up at your dorm room, but now? Now he looks doubly wasted, teetering on the verge of no return and completely past the point of even caring about it.
Steve’s fuelled by alcohol and a tragic rage. No, rage was the wrong word, because the anger he was exhibiting now was nothing like when he’d punched the wall or when he’d lost his cool at basketball practice. Now, it felt different. Like he was charged by his own sadness, and an underlying sense of resignation. Like a part of him didn’t care what would happen to him by the end of tonight. Like he was getting all his punches in before he… before he…
“Stop!” You finally find your voice and yell out, but it doesn’t carry, your words getting lost in the wind. Ari shoves Steve off of him, dragging both of them to their feet. Steve throws another punch, and Ari dodges it just in time so instead of his fist connecting with his jaw, it slams painfully against his shoulder. But Ari doesn’t flinch.
“You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about!” Ari snarls, drawing his fist back to punch back. That’s when you throw all caution to the wind and run forward, coming between them.
“Don’t, Ari! He’s drunk, and he took all this medication, and…” your voice trails off, but the worry is evident in your tone as the realisation hits you. His medication for his mood swings. How much of it had he taken? Ari pauses, still glaring daggers at Steve, who looks back at him just as venomously.
“HIT ME, LEVINSON! DO IT, JUST HIT ME!” Steve shouts, louder than the wind itself. “It’s not like I’ve got shit to lose, so go right ahead! I’ve said what I had to say and now I’m fucking done.” His face twists, veins popping in his forehead, his blonde locks brushing over his wild eyes as they rest on you. His gaze softens somewhat, like a drunken, tragic hero. “I’m done, Y/N. It’s okay, I’m done. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for scaring you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”
Why was he talking like that? You have no time to contemplate his words, however. Because Ari steps forward in front of you, his fist clenched to his side. And you’ve never seen him look this angry, and once more he draws his fist back, and you try to find your voice to stop him but nothing comes out. And the wind hits its crescendo, and there’s a clap of thunder serving as an exclamation point to this disastrous evening. Your entire body jerks, as if expecting something terrible to happen, and you close your eyes and you brace yourself…
A loud thud. You open your eyes, a scream getting caught in your throat when you see Steve on the ground. Motionless.
“Ari, what did you do!?” You cry.
Ari turns to you, breathing hard and yet he’s got a confused look on his face. His fist is still clenched but he shakes his head in shock.
“Nothing. I swear I didn’t do anything, he just… He just collapsed.”
You run over, crouch down next to Steve, trying to survey any damage. Sure enough, his face looks pristine, apart from a bluish-purple hue to his pale skin that you hadn’t noticed before. No signs of having been punched, however. But it’s his eyes that catch your attention, stricken and looking straight up. Almost like he’s unresponsive, when just a second ago he’d been on his feet and just fine.
“Oh god, oh my god. Steve!?” Your voice goes high with panic. With trembling hands, and quick, flurrying movements, you shake his shoulders. But all that does is make his head loll back, and he’s still staring up at the sky with a glassy look on his face, not reacting to you at all. Almost like he’s on another planet. Trying to keep your panic at bay, you quickly try and feel for his pulse, and that’s when you really start to lose it.
“Oh my god, Ari, he-he doesn’t have a pulse! I can’t find his pulse, I c-can’t– ARI, DO SOMETHING!”
Ari, who up until this moment seemed to be frozen in shock, staring at his still clenched fist as he stood over the two of you, seems to finally snap out of it. He springs into action, pushing you aside and crouching down next to the blond. He grabs his wrist while you look on, horrified beyond belief over what exactly was happening in front of your eyes.
He knew that mixing alcohol with his medication was dangerous, you think to yourself, another bout of sick realisation dawning on you. He’s pre-med, he’s studying to be a doctor. Of course, he knew! Had he… had he meant to do this? Oh God…
“He’s got a pulse,” Ari mutters, “He’s got one but it’s weak.”
Tears gather in your eyes as your head starts to spin, “H-He was on this medication, he told me earlier F-For his mood swings or something. And he was drinking too, and he probably took his pills and he drank and, oh God, I should’ve done something! I didn’t think it was that bad, I didn’t–”
“We need to call 911.” Ari says firmly, and you’re relieved that at least one of you is keeping their wits about them. You don’t know whether Ari’s just good under pressure or whether he’s in genuine shock too, judging by the frozen look on his face. Nevertheless, you watch him as he stands up, getting his phone out of his pocket and dialling the number.
And, almost like in cruel irony, the howling winds that had been swirling around you have now gone silent. Deathly silent. It’s like the three of you are in a vacuum, and yet you can barely even hear Ari talking on the phone. All you can hear is your fucking heart in your chest, and the racing of your own thoughts: this is my fault, this is my fault, this is my fault…
“Come on, Steve!” You urge, grabbing his hand and almost recoiling because of how limp and cold it feels. He’d been so warm when you’d kissed him hours earlier, so warm and soft. And it seems like lightyears ago, that kiss followed by the breathless silence. How you’d noted how he looked like he was one sip away from disaster. Oh, why hadn’t you done more? You could have sobered him up, but you’d been so wrapped up in your own problems. And now?
“P-Please, don’t do this. Just wake up. Or say something, just please!” And you don’t know why you’re having such a reaction – wasn’t it you who’d told Steve hours ago how you and him barely even knew each other? How there was nothing between the two of you? How he’d ruined all of that? Then why, why, why was your heart burning up right now? Like a ball of fire deep in your chest, waiting to explode. You tap his cheek desperately, noting the blueish tone of his lips, wondering why you hadn’t noticed that earlier. Beating yourself up over it.
“They’re coming,” you hear Ari say behind you, “An ambulance is on its way. It’s gonna be okay.”
But you don’t even hear him, too busy thinking back to when Steve had been in your dorm room earlier tonight. The sad look in his eyes as he’d turned to leave after your kiss. You can feel your tears soaking up your freezing cold cheeks now as you squeeze his hand.
“I forgive you, okay? I forgive you! Just wake up, please! Steve, just wake up! Didn’t you hear me? I forgive you!”
Your tears blur your vision, and his face becomes a pale blur. Fiercely, you wipe your eyes with your one free hand. And vaguely, you can feel Ari’s hand on your shoulder. And his is so warm. And Steve’s is so cold. Hot and cold. Cold and hot. You don’t even notice when you feel your own hand being squeezing lightly.
“That’s good,” Steve says faintly, his lips barely moving. You gasp and move closer, hoping you haven’t imagined it. His eyes flutter gently, like he doesn’t want to keep them open anymore. But his face looks relaxed, so relaxed that it’s scary, and it feels like you’re looking at a ghost. Those blue lips part once more. “Don’t worry about me. I’m comfortably numb, remember? I think I finally made it last…”
“No, no, no, no…” you scramble, watching as his eyes slip shut. You squeeze his hand again, shake at his shoulders, tap his cheek. Oh no, no, no, no. And all around you, the trees start swaying once more. The great gusts of wind continue, almost like they never even stopped, and another branch falls to the ground. The grass rustles beneath where Steve lies, and the moonlight shines on his face, making his pallor look a deathly kind of beautiful. Like an angel.
And it reminds you of the first night you’d met him. The night you’d dreamed of him. He’d looked like an angel in your dreams too.
The wind whistles with great might, and it sounds like a cackle. As if it’s mocking you. And Steve is still, and Ari’s still holding firmly on to you, and you can barely hear the blare of the siren as the ambulance slowly approaches.
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A/N: .....did Steve just.... OH MY GODDD. Well, if you made it this far then congratulations!!! I really hope y'all liked it. I'm so scared it didn't live up to expectations. I KNOW there was no smut but you guys I tried my best to see where I could fit it in... I just couldn't justify putting it in anywhere in the story and it actually making sense, pls understand! UGHHH I'm just so insecure about this chapter, but if you liked it PLESE PLEASE let me know what you think! Any thoughts, comments, feedback would genuinely be appreciated SO much like SO SO much omfg. Like any favourite parts etc? I really wanted to focus on romantic scenes between reader and the two guys and i hope i showed that! BUT YEAH PLS LMK WHAT YOU THINK ILY ILY.
Okay and as usual, here are some questions!! (y'all don't have to answer them, but just in case anyone does!!!)
Which romantic scene did you prefer? Steve coming up reader's window or Ari taking reader on a picnic? OR NEITHER???
What are your thoughts on Carla Wanda after this chapter??? LMFAOO.
Why was Sharon more upset with reader than with Ari? Hmm.....
Did Ari really spread Kira's nudes around :( ?? Or do you think there's more to the story?
TEAM ARI OR TEAM STEVE? ( if he's okay that is damn )
AND THAT'S IT! Hope y'all enjoyed it! I'm gonna stop yapping now bahahaha byeee ily ily ily
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suguann · 2 days
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LOVE IT WHEN YOU CALL ME LOVER—JJK MEN.
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✎. jjk men showing you how much they love you. | wc. 2k+
tags. fem!reader, window sex, possessive behavior, mirror sex, oral sex, public sex, pregnancy, fingering, praise kink, size kink
featuring. gojo, nanami, geto
masterlist
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↬ GOJO
He doesn’t think you’ve looked more breath-taking than you do right then, humming softly to the music on the radio while painting your toenails, the last stretch of daylight kissing your exposed knees through the window. You’re so lost in your own little world that you don’t notice him watching you.
The important emails on his phone go unanswered, saved for another day when you’re not there to distract him. You stretch your smooth legs to inspect your work and glance across the living room to give him one of those soft smiles that sends warmth through his middle.
“What do you think?” you ask, little sunflower yellow toes flexing on the coffee table. 
“They’re pretty, baby.”
Another smile stretches across your face, that full lower lip caught between your teeth. “You think so?”
“Positive.” His phone lies forgotten on the cushion beside him, and he leans back to make room for you. “Come here.”
His eyes make a lazy trail up from your delicate ankle bone to the soft slope of your collarbone that peeks out from one of his t-shirts as you walk towards him, getting his fill until his fingers itch to touch and retrace the invisible path. 
Gojo can’t help it. He’s struck by the sight of you.
He wishes he could trap the shocked and delighted sound you make when he pulls you into his lap, keep it tucked away in the untainted nooks and crannies for him to return to later. A little melody on repeat for the days he feels undeserving of such sweet things, how he treads the fine line of corrupting that wide-eyed innocence you have of the world.
Still. Still, the truth is, he’s a little greedy, and he doesn’t really care how bad of a person that makes him.
Everyone looks up to him in some way. Nobody ever called him a saint. 
Gojo works out more of those soft sounds—pressing you against the chilly, tall windows in the living room, fist in your hair, and his mouth attached to the long column of your throat—that make his mouth go dry. Your back arches to ease the way he fucks up into you, tits brushing up against the glass, and he loves how the distant city lights below shimmer around you like a halo.
A high-pitched whimper, sharp breaths fogging over the window. “‘Toru people can see.”
He doesn’t think he’ll ever tire of how your soft and silky little cunt sucks him in—wrapped up all warm and wet around his cock—cursing under his breath when he tells you he doesn’t care. You’re his, anyway. 
“Let them see,” he grunts into your neck, teeth catching along your skin before licking at the vulnerable spot above your pulse. “Let them see how I fuck you because they can’t have you.”
Gojo can barely control himself at the mere idea that anyone would ever think they could. He’ll be the last and only one to know how you turn into a fucking vice when he hits particularly deep—how you shake like a leaf, legs coltish, after he makes you cum hard. 
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↬ GETO
It feels like the epitome of terrible days: from the tomato stain on your skirt to your boss forcing deadlines down your throat and surprising Suguru at work only to find a pretty, willowy brunette sitting on the corner of his desk, her hand resting on a stack of graded papers, and fluttering her long lashes at him. 
The final nail in the coffin (a stupid nail, but a hammered-down nail nonetheless) is how she laughs and touches his arm, and Suguru doesn’t brush her off. He actually laughs back, all perfectly straight teeth on display and eyes crinkling at the corners. One of those heart-stopping smiles stretching across his face that you foolishly thought were all yours. 
Suddenly, you wonder if it was out of obligation that made him compliment you that morning in your dress—look at you, a kiss to your cheek, I’m going to fucking ruin you—a perfunctory greeting after being together so long (like making coffee or picking out paint), to make you feel better, or if he meant it—
A tap with sticky fingers to your cheek. “C’mon, watch.” 
You feel like you’re looking from the outside in, a spectator with a front-row seat that has your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his spit-slick chin and cheeks resting against the crease where thigh meets hip. He gives you a syrupy grin that tightens something in your stomach like a screw. 
“Not me,” he says, words laced with amusement. 
Hesitantly, your gaze trails up from his to the floor-length mirror perched in front of the bed, and what you see has your fingers sinking into the sheets. 
You can hardly pull your eyes away from how your leg looks draped across his broad, muscular back, making you look so small even though you sit above him. And it’s like Suguru knows what you’re seeing because his grin grows wider. 
“See, look how perfect you are. That woman in the mirror is so fucking pretty, I can’t believe I get to tell everyone she’s mine.” His thumb parts you open for his mouth. “Why would you think you look otherwise, huh?”
“I…don’t know,” you whisper, head a fuzzy mess of weak excuses that evaporate before they even have a chance to make it onto your tongue.
“Hm, that’s not a good enough answer.” 
Your hips twitch when he noses at your clit. 
“Awe, I bet that feels good, huh? I’m gonna show you what happens when you talk bad about my pretty baby,” then he sucks it into his mouth, making you squeal.
He can’t blame you for squeezing your eyes shut at the slick, hot pressure dragging through your folds—shaky fingers tightening in Suguru’s long, dark hair. It feels equally like everything and not nearly enough until he suddenly pulls away, taking that jittery feeling in your belly with him.
“Why’d you—”
“If you look away, I stop.” He chuckles lightly at the little pout you give him before his lips suck at the tender spot near the crease of your thigh, “so watch.”
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↬ NANAMI
After lunch, he drags you across the street where there’s a park for him to set up a picnic blanket under a tree. Kento rests his head on your lap, slipping an arm around your waist and rubbing the sore spot in your lower back from being on your feet for too long. 
It’s all very innocent: him kissing your round pregnant belly, you running your fingers through his soft hair and talking about the latest work gossip. 
You hum when you feel his fingers crawl up your thigh, slowly at first and with no destination, just soft, aimless circles here and there, until the calloused pad of his thumb skirts over the front of your underwear, making you jerk with a small squeak.
“Kento,” you giggle, fingers tightening in his hair. 
He smiles at the scandalized look spreading across your face and leans forward to press another kiss against your stomach.
"Do you trust me?" he asks, hand pushing up your dress. 
You glance around the park to see if anyone is paying attention to the two of you—an elderly couple feeding the ducks frozen peas by the pond, a mother and father playing with their giggling daughter in the grass, college kids throwing a frisbee, all far enough away to be out of earshot (but that’s not the real problem here)—before you look back at your husband. 
“W-what?” you sputter, wide-eyed realization taking over.
He presses another open-mouthed kiss to your thigh. “Do you trust me?”
A soft whine slips past your teeth, the hand not in his hair curling into the blanket. “But everyone will notice because I’m—I’m—”
(A beached whale. An air balloon. A carnival-sized melon. You get the gist.)
“Gorgeous.” He smooths a hand over your bump, open-fondness radiating across his features, the subtle hint of possessiveness there making you shiver. “You look so fucking gorgeous with my baby growing inside you. Let me take care of you.”
“B-but—”
Everything else melts away to the pulsing heat between your legs and your husband groaning from the wetness he finds there. Your shaky thighs fall open wider when his fingers hook under the edge of your underwear (unflattering things worn for comfort over sexual appeal), pulling them aside to run his fingers through your slick seam. 
Pregnancy brain clouds your judgment, and before you can think twice about your actions, how you definitely shouldn’t let Kento eat you out in the middle of a public park, you nod your head. 
His lips ghost over the tender flesh of your upper thigh. "I need to hear you say it."
It’s a low and shaky yes that has his fingers finally sinking into you to the third knuckle, steadily pumping in and out of you. You buck down onto his hand, trying to bite back the moan threatening to alert everyone in the park of the head under your skirt.
“You’re going to cum for me, just like this,” Kento tells you, voice muffled by a layer of powder blue cotton. “Alright, darling?” 
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rosylix · 2 days
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rosy
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더 깊이 빠져들겠지 더 조금씩 더 조금씩 넌...
you don't know how to give a hickey.. what are friends for if not to help each other with these things?
pairing: bff!felix × gn!reader
wc: 4.3k
content: nonidol au, fluff, not rly smut but suggestive (mdni pls), shy/inexperienced reader, hickeys (duh), reader is like slightly germophobic idk, a lot of teasing, no use of y/n
a/n: i am so delusional i need to bite this mans neck badly. and yes this is my username. yes it's the loona song. lol
[also read on ao3]
God, you should have just kept your mouth shut.
“You don't know how to give a hickey?”
You shake your head and cover your face, hiding from Felix, who's sitting next to you on his bed.
“Wait, really? Like you've never even tried it on yourself?” he asks.
“No?! What, people actually do that?” Your hands lower slightly to reveal your eyes widening.
He breathes out a laugh and you hit his arm. “It's not funny!”
“It's kind of funny.”
“Shut up. I just— like— I never… whatever.” He poorly conceals a teasing smile. “Shut up or you're literally not getting any cinnamon rolls tomorrow. In fact, lemme ask Hannie if he wants your extras.” You pull out your phone.
Before you can do anything, Felix swiftly moves closer to you, his hand pushing yours down. “Whoa, whoa, hey.. that's a little drastic, yeah? Have I ever told you how much I love and appreciate you? ..And your cinnamon rolls?” He smiles sweetly, batting his eyelashes at you.
You grumble but drop the phone and shake his hand away, pursing your lips to fight a smile. The two of you fall into a comfortable silence.
…And then Felix ruins it.
“But you've kissed people before, right?”
You look at him incredulously. “Did I not say to shut up??” you shriek.
“Is that a no?” He giggles. He fucking giggles. You want to punch his pretty face.
“Lee Felix Yongbok I will smite you down right here where you stand if you don't—”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay wait, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! I just mean, it's kind of like the same thing, you know?”
“The same as what? Giving a h-hickey?” You can't help but stutter a little.
“Yeah like it's… I'll show you.” 
Felix suddenly moves so he's in front of you and gently grabs your arm. He'll show you?! Literally what. What the hell. You let out a small squeak and instinctively lean away from him. 
“Relax, I just meant here,” he touches your arm. “Is that okay?”
You stare at him.
“...Or I could show it on myself but I thought it might be better to feel it? Or I don't have to do it at all of course,” he says quickly.
Oh. It takes a second but the gears in your head start slowly turning enough to respond.
“Oh.” Well, okay, that wasn't as much of a response as you meant to give.
Felix laughs softly and pulls his hand away from your arm. “Sorry, it's too weird, right? No worries.”
But wait, you're actually curious. And isn't it better to figure it out before you inevitably make a fool out of yourself in front of someone else? It makes you a bit nervous but… you're comfortable with Felix. “No, wait, you can uh... show me…?”
His eyebrows raise for a second but then he smiles. “You sure?”
You nod. You still feel a little dazed and you're not really cognizant enough to actually do anything but watch him as he moves closer again. Your arm must feel like a dead weight but he lifts it up and lowers his head, placing a chaste kiss on your inner wrist. “This okay? Usually you um... start with kissing.”
“O-Oh, okay, yeah..” you murmur. What is this sudden weird atmosphere? Maybe you're the only one feeling it. Felix doesn't seem too phased, but you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. Shit, can he feel your pulse right now? You really hope not. 
He flashes a shy smile and places another kiss there, and another a little higher, and another, and it feels way too intimate and sends shivers up your spine. Slowly, he moves up your forearm, stopping right before your elbow.
“So… then.. you just wanna like... suck,” he says before doing just that, right below the crook of your elbow. 
Oh. It feels weird. You must have made a noise or something because he looks up at you through dark lashes, a smile playing on the corners of his lips. You swallow. What the actual hell is happening right now? 
After holding excruciating eye contact for what feels like an eternity, he lets his eyes close. Thank god, because it was making your chest feel tight and weird. You continue to stare as he continues kissing and sucking at your arm, face absolutely burning at the strange sensation.
You've literally lost the freaking plot. You just sit there, no semblance of time passing. After about twenty seconds? Twenty minutes? It literally could have been either — he finally pulls away, with a final kiss and light drag of his teeth against your skin. 
You hold your breath as he sits up and gently maneuvers your arm so you could see the fruits of his labor. He clears his throat. “Um, so… it's starting to show up. See?” he says a little breathlessly.
You nod, unsure what to say when your best friend literally just sucked a hickey onto your arm. A very platonic hickey. Okay. This is fine. This is totally normal right? It must be or he wouldn't have offered. ..Right? You stare down at the bruise starting to blossom on your arm and finally chance a glance at Felix, but he also has his head down, staring at your arm.
Suddenly as if on cue, his head jerks up. When he sees you looking at him he grins. “Cool, right? How does it feel?” 
“Weird…” you mumble. How can he be so nonchalant about this? You want to strangle him.
He nods. “It might be a little sensitive for a bit.” He runs his fingers lightly over the reddening area and you immediately see what he means. It feels tender and tingly under his touch. You shiver. “So.. you think you get how to do it now?” he asks. 
“Um… yeah, I mean, maybe?”
“Do you wanna try?”
“Try? What, on… on your arm?!” 
A slight blush creeps up his face and he shrugs. “Sure, or wherever… my arm, or my neck since that's where it's usually…”
You feel your face heat up as well. “I…”
“I just thought, if you wanna like, practice? But of course you don't have to.” He looks away and shrugs again, seeming a little embarrassed for suggesting it.
You open and close your mouth over and over again like a fish. Like a stupid dumb fish who somehow got itself reeled into this crazy situation. But honestly, the more you think about it, the offer to practice is tempting. When would you get another opportunity like this? Probably never. And… you trust Felix more than anyone else.
“...Is it really okay?” you ask hesitantly.
Felix looks up, blinking a few times before smiling. “Of course. I mean, it's only fair since I did it on you,” he laughs softly. He seems happy but also a little surprised that you actually appeared to be agreeing to his offer. Honestly, you're surprised too.
“Right, um…” you mumble. You shuffle a little closer to him. His hand slides down from your elbow to your hand, rubbing gentle circles on the back of it with his thumb. To reassure you, you think. It's a sweet gesture.
You lean in slightly towards his neck, deciding that if you do it here, you can hide your face from him and avoid any eye contact. “Um, can I...? Where should I…?”
You're so close to him. You can hear his breath catch a little before he points to the side of his neck with his free hand. “Around here,” he says, his voice somehow getting impossibly lower.
You swallow, the reality of the situation suddenly sinking in. As you lean in further you bite your lip, anxious. You need to break this tension somehow. You just can't do this right now. “Um.. um… do you wash your neck?” you blurt out.
Felix leans back a little. “Do I... do I wash my neck? That's what you're worried about?” he laughs.
“Some people probably don't!” you exclaim. Then you sigh. “Ugh, s-sorry, that's stupid, right? You literally licked my arm,” you let out a nervous laugh. “I just— I don't know. It feels icky. Germs.” 
He hums. “You're not stupid.” A pause. “But, I can proudly say I do wash my neck.” He presses his lips together, clearly suppressing another laugh and you just know he's about to tease you. “Wow, how do you even kiss people if you're this worried about germs?”
“Shut up,” you grumble, leaning back into his neck a little to hide your face, your breath hot on his neck. He inhales sharply and seems surprised and, you think, a little panicked?
You instantly pull away. “Felix, are you sure?” You chew on your lip. Is this a bad idea after all?
“Yeah, I-I... yeah, of course,” he says, a little breathless, but you're not entirely convinced. You start to move away fully but he quickly grabs your arm again. “No.. no, wait. Please,” he whispers. You see him visibly try to relax, taking a deep breath in and out. “It's okay. I promise. I was just caught off guard.”
“Sorry,” you whisper.
“No, no, you're good, you're fine. It was me.” Felix clears his throat and rubs your arm reassuringly. 
You take a deep breath. “Okay… so.. here?” You lean back in to where you were previously, breath hitting his neck.
He swallows, and you see it because his Adam's apple bobs up and down right in front of your face. What the fuck. “Yeah. Just go slow and… you can start with kissing if you want. Don't overthink it,” he mumbles, sounding more like he's reminding himself of something.
You nod and slowly, so slowly, you lean in the rest of the way and press your lips to his neck.
You expected him to remain still but a small breathy noise escapes him and he leans his head further back, exposing more of his neck in the process. You swear you can feel his pulse thrumming under your lips. “Good... um.. yeah, just... kiss a little bit and then suck. You can use your tongue, too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, but you can feel the vibrations against your lips when he speaks. What the fuck.
Your head feels fuzzy. You hesitantly place a kiss on his neck, and then another a little higher, and another, until you reach an area you're satisfied with. You almost want to pull away but remember Felix's words. Right. Just try not to overthink it…
He pulls a breath in through his teeth when you press an open-mouthed kiss and start sucking gently. At the same time, your tongue darts out almost automatically and touches his skin. 
You feel him swallow thickly. “Y-You gotta… harder…” he murmurs. “Or it won't mark.”
You hesitate. “Won't it hurt?”
He blinks hard and shakes his head slightly. “Don't worry… I-I'll tell you if it hurts, okay? Just try. Do it like I did.”
You nod and take a deep breath before trying again, this time in earnest, sucking harder and pulling his skin between your lips and even past your teeth.
“Yeah,” he breathes out, his grip on your arm tightening, “Like... like that. And you can.. use your teeth a little too.” His voice is getting thick, low, and raspy and, god, you feel a little dizzy.
But you want to please him, so you bite down softly and let your teeth run over the area. A quiet, high-pitched whine escapes his lips, and his hand shoots up to cover his mouth, body jerking back slightly. He suddenly seems to realize the noise he made and looks at you, wide-eyed.
You pull back again, a little breathless. “D-Did it hurt?” You really didn't think you bit that hard, but you can't hide the worry in your voice.
His hand drops from his mouth, face flushed and breathing labored. His eyes look a little dialed out. “No... no, it didn't.. hurt.” It seems like it takes all his strength just to say that. “Sorry, I just...” he takes a few more seconds to gather himself, “Um, kinda sensitive…”
…Sensitive? Oh. Oh. It was good. He liked it. You almost sigh in relief. But then… wait. He's sensitive there. He… Your brain isn't working. You find yourself leaning back in to his neck without thinking.
Felix doesn’t protest, just sits back, exposing more of his neck to you. You feel his body shudder when you lightly drag your teeth over the area before attaching your mouth more firmly and sucking at his skin.
He can’t stop the whimper from leaving his throat. “That feels really good.. you’re doing good,” he pants.
Your heart swells from the praise and you double down on your efforts. You hear him try to suppress another whimper but it’s more strained this time. It happens again and again, little noises and whines that you're not sure if he's even aware he's making. Every noise pulls and tugs at something in your stomach.
It feels intimate, so insanely intimate and you think you might combust on the spot if you go any longer. It's a bit nerve-wracking to pull away and face Felix but you force yourself to, licking your lips as you retreat.
Your eyes immediately widen at the sight in front of you. A pretty, deep pink bruise begins to blossom on his neck and your heart skips a beat at the realization that you did that to him.
Felix hasn't said anything. Is he upset? You chance a glance at his face and—
Oh. His eyes are closed and a faint sheen of sweat coats his flushed face, which is pulled taught in a mixture of bliss and something like pain. His chest is heaving, breath coming out in quick gasps. You stare at him, the only thought in your mind being: God, he's gorgeous like this.
He blinks rapidly and seems to finally come to. When he finally refocuses his gaze on you, he lets out a shaky exhale that turns into a weak laugh.
“...Good?” he asks.
Good? Good? Your head is spinning. It's not good. Nothing is good. Life is meaningless and everything you know exists on a floating rock spinning in the void and you think you're gonna pass out and never wake up. It's not good. It's fucking crazy. But you just mumble, “It's… showing up, I think…”
He raises an eyebrow. “That right? Let me see then.”
Felix grabs his phone and pulls up the camera, angling it so he has a clear view of his neck. He lets out a soft whistle, bringing his hand up to feel where the hickey is. You watch dumbly as he presses his fingers on it and lets out a shaky sigh. Then he looks at you and grins before throwing you a thumbs-up. “You did great. It's already pretty dark.”
You actually want to kill him. Your brain is melting and he's acting like this is the most normal afternoon of his life. Maybe it is. Does Felix do this type of thing often? The thought makes you shiver.
You throw your hands over your face. “I-I didn't mean for it to be that—like—ugh…”
His smile softens. “Hey, hey, you don't have to be embarrassed. It's…” he searches your face for a second and suddenly reaches over to gently pull your hands away. “It's not that bad. You did really good. Besides, it’s my neck, yeah?” His tone shifts to more of a teasing one, like he’s amused you’re overreacting a little. It just serves to frustrate you more.
You sigh. “Um… I really—it's really okay..?”
He nods. “Yeah, of course it is. It’s just a little mark, nothing serious.” He looks at you thoughtfully for a bit and you feel yourself getting flushed under his gaze. “You know.. you can try it again. If you want. Just to practice. Or for science, or whatever.” He laughs.
What. You’re stunned into silence. Science? You stare at him incredulously and he just grins back before leaning even further forward. This can't be your Felix. This is actually crazy. 
Felix smiles at your dumbfounded expression. “…Come on.” He brings a hand up to your face and pokes at your cheek softly. “Do it again. Try a different spot. Make it darker.”
He's obviously teasing you. So you're flabbergasted when what comes out of your mouth is, “W-Where..?” Where? Literally what are you saying. Like, where is the nearest exit? Where has your own sanity gone? That's what you should be asking.
He shrugs. “Anywhere. The other side?” He points to the unmarked side of his neck. Then he pushes his shirt down slightly, revealing a sliver of his shoulder and collarbone before looking back at you, eyes expectant with a bit of an impish gleam. “Maybe.. here?” he mumbles.
Your head spins. Oh yeah, you're definitely gonna pass out. It's so over. Life and death and the universe… fucking craziness. You're falling. You're dying. Everything is melting. Nothing's real.
Oh wait, you're actually falling, your head plopping down on his shoulder as you let out an embarrassed groan. 
You hear him laughing softly. “Someone's eager—”
You’re a bit confused but then your eyes focus on the place your head is now laying and—Oh god, you’re right where his shoulder and neck meet. Right where he just told you to suck a hickey. Great.
You instantly lift your head up, face burning. “No, I didn't—I wasn't trying to—”
He brushes the hair out of your face. “Hey, it's okay, I'm not forcing you or anything. Are you overwhelmed?” 
“Um, yeah, but— y-yeah. Sorry.” God. How pathetic do you look right now?
“Don't apologize. I was just teasing. It makes sense to be overwhelmed. It's a new experience.” He sits back and laughs but there’s a bit of a nervous waver to it. “You're fine, seriously. Maybe we got a little carried away, huh?”
“Uhh— yeah….”
He gives you an apologetic look. “I'm sorry for being pushy. Let's just... just forget about the whole thing, yeah? Let's play some video games or something.” He clears his throat.
He's moving on but your head is still spinning. This really is the most normal afternoon for him, you think. Because how is he so chill? Your body is still buzzing with nervous energy and you can't just switch off and forget about it, can you?
You can't. “Uh— Uh, wait—...”
“...Yeah?”
You drop your head back down onto his shoulder. “Um… is it bad if I… kinda…”
You trail off and he doesn’t respond for a few seconds. You don’t dare move, waiting for something, anything. When he finally does say something his voice sounds strained. “Kinda what?” he asks quietly.
“Um.” Fuck. “Nevermind.” You go to draw back but Felix quickly places a hand at the back of your head, preventing any movement.
You hear him exhale quietly. “I don't mind, you know,” he whispers. “You can do it. If you... if you want to.” He slowly starts running his fingers through your hair. “If you wanna practice. The more you practice, the more comfortable you'll be with it, right?”
You hum against his shoulder, the justification mulling around in your head. Of course. Of course that's why you want to. For practice. For science.
He continues. “Yeah, do it. Uh, j-just, I mean— if you want. A-As practice. Try to… see how dark you can make it… or… ” For all the talk he was making before, he stutters now, and you can't help but find it a little endearing. Maybe he's actually a little nervous as well.
Fuck it. Who cares. You've lost the plot. You press your mouth against his skin, giving a few open-mouthed kisses before gently sucking at it.
You hear his breathing stutter and he shifts slightly. “Yeah, j-just…” he lets out a shaky sigh and presses his hand a bit more firmly on the back of your head, bringing you closer to him. The angle is still a bit awkward to reach, so without much thinking, you crawl slightly onto his lap.
“Oh,” he mumbles, his body goes tense for a second before relaxing again. He's completely still, like if he moves you’ll pull away, but eventually his fingers start running through your hair again. It isn't a particularly suggestive position, you're sitting back more towards his knees, but suddenly everything feels charged with tension. 
You hear a low, almost imperceptible groan as you continue sucking lightly from the new angle. “You're doing really well,” he mutters encouragingly. “Just a little more… harder. And like, bite a little, remember?”
Right. You comply and bite down a little. Felix lets out a small whine, hand tightening in your hair. “Good… uh, just like that..” he mumbles. “You can try moving a little more, if you want—”
You don't need to hear more, instantly moving your mouth higher up his neck without much thought. His fingers slide down until his hands are completely resting between your shoulder blades, pressing you closer. Shivers run down your spine where he touches and you attach your lips to the side of his Adam's apple.
“A-Ah…” a shaky moan escapes him, taking both of you by surprise. His hands suddenly jump down to grip your waist tightly. Oh. He seems much more sensitive here. You swear you're dizzy. Maybe you're dying. You think you’re fine with that honestly.
You want to bite him. You let your teeth sink into the skin a little. He lets out a shaky half-laugh, half-groan, tilting his head back and pulling you towards him. “Y-You learn quickly.” A deep pink flush runs high on his cheeks, and his breaths are unsteady. You’ve never seen him like this, so undone, and it's making you feel powerful. You want more.
You decide to give in to that and bite down harder, feeling his body jerk. He moans, breathy, and whispers, “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, that feels so good.” One of his hands moves to the back of your neck, fingers gently grasping the base of your hair. His thumb brushes up against your earlobe and for some reason it sets tingles off all down your spine.
…Does it really feel that good? You can't help but wonder. It mostly just felt weird on your arm but you suppose that's different. Different from your. Neck. Oh fuck, now you're thinking about it. His mouth on your neck. His mouth on your neck. You're floating. You're crashing. Everything is cool. Everything is burning. 
Your brain is practically short-circuiting and you start sucking on the same spot before pulling back just enough to bite down and suck at it again, this time a little harder.
His breath stutters and you feel his head tilt to give you more access. There's another small gasp that comes out as a strained “Fuuuck…” when you continue. You think you're actually delirious at this point.
Then, “W-wait..” he says urgently, his chest heaving. His hand that was on your neck slides down to grab your shoulder now.
“That's… good. We should.. stop. I…” he pants heavily.
You pull away instantly. “O-Okay. Yeah. Sorry.” You feel restless, fidgety, more than just from nerves.
“No, you're fine, god. It's me. I'm getting too…” he shakes his head. “You did really good, I…” He presses his hands against his eyes and takes a few deep, slow breaths.
When he drops his hands he seems mostly back to normal. “Um.” He laughs a little. “We, uh… how's it look?”
You stare at his neck and shoulder. Oh, fuck. In truth, it looks fucking insane. Like he got mauled or something. Oh my god. That was you. What came over you?
He raises an eyebrow at your silence. “Guess I gotta see for myself,” he says and places his hands on your waist to lift you up and off of his lap. As if you weigh literally nothing. What the fuck.
With your head still reeling at how he lifted you like you're nothing, you don't really notice him reaching for his phone to see himself until you hear him suck in a breath.
“Wow… I'm gonna get so many comments tomorrow.”
“What?!” you shriek. Oh god. Of course it'll take a few days to fade. You hadn't even thought about that. The light mark on your arm is easy to brush off as nothing but the rosy hues on his neck are unmistakable.
He laughs. “I'm just kidding. I'll have to.. cover it with makeup I guess. Don't worry.”
“You better…” you mumble, embarrassed.
He hums. “Hmm… Well it isn't really fair... What should I do…” He leans in, studying your flushed face. “Wanna match?” he says with a cheeky grin.
“What?? Felix!”
“I'm joking! Jeez…” He pokes your cheek. “Unless all this blushing isn't just from embarrassment and you're actually into this?” 
Your face is positively burning. “Shut up. You're annoying as hell,” you grumble.
He gasps dramatically. “After I gave up my sanctity for you to practice on me? This is how you treat me?”
You can't help but giggle at his dramatics but you quickly steel your expression and glare at him equally as dramatically.
You're really grateful everything seems to be normal on his end. You're trying your best to act the same, but in truth, you feel like a fucking mess. His joking comment about you being into this… No, definitely not. There's no way. It's probably just because it's your first time doing this with anyone, so of course it's going to feel crazy and weird and confusing. Right? Yeah. But still. Even long after the two of you move on, playing video games and hanging out like normal, you can't shake the feeling that something's weird. Something shifted. You don't know what the fuck it is though. You just try not to think about it.
How are you actually supposed to go back to normal after this?
a/n: so on a scale of 1 to 10 how painfully obvious is it that i've never given a hickey in my life.
no but um haha any feedback good or bad would be super appreciated!! pls leave a like or reblog if u enjoyed it makes me so happy. tysm for reading <3
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galene-gothic · 2 days
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𝖶𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗎𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗌𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎?
୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱
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˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗             PAID SERVICES (summer sale and offers)
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︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱
This is interesting, your future spouse is going to love how stubborn and prideful you are. There will be times when you’ll be fighting with them because you’ll get angry or upset about something but your anger will suddenly die down, however, you’ll be too stubborn and prideful to make your anger seem inconsistent so you’ll continue acting like you are still upset 😭. This is going to be frustrating at times but they’re going to love it regardless. I feel like you’re going to be really raw in your expression to them. If you’re feeling clingy, you’ll cling onto them. If you feel like you’re not getting enough attention, you’re going to do whatever it takes to get it. However, you are also going to understand the limits of what’s healthy and what’s unhealthy. For example, you wanted their attention so you’re like “you don’t even love me”, after a while, you’re going to go “I’m sorry, I just wanted some attention from you.” THEY ARE GOING TO MELT ON THE INSIDE. They’re going to be like “aww, ____ is so adorable!” There are also going to be times when despite how prideful you are and how you don’t act like you’re unconfident in front of others. When with them, you’ll be like “do I look good?”, “does this look good?”, “I don’t feel good today.”, etc. There are going to be times when you’re going to be really vulnerable, you’ll just have your face buried on their chest and be sulking over how bad your day went, how something deeply affected you, how you’ve been feeling recently, so on and so forth. Due to how prideful you are, being able to see this side of you is going to be a privilege, they’ll feel honoured and will adore you so deeply. I wonder if the both of you will mutually have all love languages, like the primary ones seem to be quality time and acts of service but you still want to love heartily which includes everything - the former two, words of affirmation, physical touch, grand gestures, keeping check of little things, and going above and beyond. They will want the good, the bad and everything in between when it comes to you. They’ll also feel like you love them for who they truly are. The both of you are going to be givers and a deep intimacy will come about due to understanding each other. If you’ve ever been at a point in life where you’ve cried due to giving too much, not receiving enough, not experiencing the main course of love instead only getting the appetiser, wondering if you’ll have to change your giving personality in order to receive love, so on and so forth, it’s only further confirmation that you deserve the best love and this person will want to give you that. They’ll also be so grateful to you for all of it because they’re not used to receiving properly either. They’ve experienced similar feelings to you in the past but two givers will come together, magic is bound to happen. I’m so happy for you 💗. ‘POV’ by Ariana Grande is playing right now. That’s how they’ll feel towards you.
Actually, that is also how you’re going to feel towards them. A certain intimacy comes about when someone understands and chooses you, that’s what you’ll both have, and I think that’s beautiful. You also seem to have a lot of sexual energy. The moment you’ll see them, you’ll want to do it 😭. I’m sorry but I’m genuinely getting that happening. You’ll just randomly get urges. I’m getting you wanting to do it like ten times a day… I’m sorry. If you’re a woman or girl, you should try to take note of how you think, feel and act during ovulation right now. Your sex drive is going to be a lot stronger at that time. They’ll love how determined you are as a person. When they’ll first meet you, you’ll sort of sweep the rug from under their feet. They’re going to feel scarily attracted to you. There’s going to be a lot of sexual tension between the both of you right from the beginning. They’ll also love how you make them have revelations. They’ll feel like the both of you meeting was just divine intervention. You’re going to change them deeply and at first they’re going to be repulsed but it will all just add to the storyline xD. I mean, who doesn’t like looking back at their life and thinking that it’s movie-like? No one will compare when it comes to you. They’ll be so glad to share their life with you. Also, another thing that is coming through is that you’ll sometimes give up on what you want to benefit others, they’ll notice it and appreciate your compassion. They’ll still want you to put yourself first though. They’ll deeply care about you. There will be times when they’ll have to put up with your hostility, lack of proper communication, etc. but they’ll love how even when you’re struggling, you try your best to assure them. They’ll find your way of speech to lack assertion (outside of the stubborn, prideful lash outs xD) but they’ll love how this allows you to talk your way out of conflicts. They’ll also love how curious and mentally stimulating you are. You’re someone who values a mental connection deeply. In fact, much like your love languages, you desire it all even in the matters of heart, soul, physicality, etc. because you don’t want love to be a finite feeling in your life. They’ll love how talkative you are with them and how chatty they’ll be able to be with you. They’ll love your witty remarks, your vigilance and regard for details. Supposing, you’re in class, you’ll notice when someone has not brought their pen and well, depending on who you are, if you have an extra pen, you’ll either give it to them or just choose it ignore it 😍. You’ll be communicative and also your curiosity will give way to seeking knowledge in some form, so there will be times when you’ll just know a lot of things and you’ll talk about various different things with each other. Also, you might jump from one topic to another and back to the first topic again, they’ll find it all very adorable. They’ll love you dearly. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 💕.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱
They’re going to love how hardworking you are. Also, how you have the understanding that everyone has their own set of values and skills that they bring. They are going to love how you place your trust in them as well. Also, how the both of you will a team with each other. Also, how the both of you interact with others as a unit? You will be the couple who is attractive due to how amiable and friendly you are while still remaining a unit and THEY ARE GOING TO LOVE IT! You’re both going to teach each other a lot and likely, both you and your future spouse are already into self improvement and skill development, and they’ll love how you encourage each other on your paths. You’ll also be the couple who teaches others outside of the relationship. You’ll just be a very respectable and well reputed couple. They’ll love how much you value your connection with them as well as other people. You’re going to be committed to yourself, your growth, your career, whatever it may be but you’re also going to have a strong and committed relationship with them where you’ll notice the details and actually truly value them, they’ll love that. You’re likely going to be skilled at whatever you do when you’re with them. They’re going to think that you’re naturally competitive, not in a way where you’re competing but in a way where you’re so focused on getting it, doing it, having it and being it that you just win the competition? Also, the both of you are going to have a really stable relationship because you’ll be a very stable person and they’re going to love that they’ve had the privilege of finding peace in a person, peace in their house. Even though you seem to be successful, well reputed, meeting important people, skilled and still willing to learn, still actively trying to develop skills and knowledge, you’ll still be trying to maintain a community, will be kind to people and might either volunteer, donate or just find a way to give away your kindness in one way another, and they’ll love that. You’ll be expressive with your love for them through actions, they’ll also do the same and they’ll love how you seem to value each other enough to do things for each other, to tangibly let your actions speak for yourselves xD. You’ll both have lovely conversations and will even attend many gatherings. They’re going to love how the both of you are a family, a strong one at that. There’s just going to be understanding and communication with one another. I’m getting the both of you making love and just laying there, having conversations while laughing together. I wouldn’t be surprised if you guys go raw a lot because you seem to be materially successful and will be quite happy to grow a family together. Not to mind, this card has an image of someone literally planting a seed, not sexually but they’re planting a seed. They’ll feel like your relationship is one that only continues deepening and they’ll love that. They’ll always come back home, they’ll always want to. They will love how they love you so much and feel so homesick that they can barely even spend nights elsewhere, like if they do business or have to travel, they won’t be able to wait until they get home. Your family together is going to be a safe and happy one, you’re going to be a unit as well as individuals who continue learning and growing.
You’ll also maintain a strong community, be focused on your endeavours and be good people, they’re going to love that they found you who they could develop such a lifestyle with. THEY’RE GOING TO BE SO GRATEFUL FOR YOU. Aww, this is adorable. They’ll be the happiest when they’re at home with you, they won’t even bother to go out but of course they’ll enjoy going out as well, they will also love how good you look as a couple. When you’re out in gatherings together, they’ll feel really confident and happy. Not gonna lie, showing you off is going to be fun for them xD. They’re going to love everything about you. You’re literally going to be their dream person. They’ll feel like their wishes were fulfilled with you just coming into their life, you becoming their spouse is going to feel surreal, something divine, something so dreamy. They’re going to love how their partnership with you is a happy one. Also, your ability to be satisfied with everything in life and maintain gratitude. You two, truly will bring out the best in each other and they’re going to love you for that. They’ll feel so content in your connection. They will feel like you treat them as your own and still put in a lot of effort into your connection (it’ll come naturally to you too) despite how you seem to have it all in life. They’ll love how you genuinely want and love them instead of wanting them out of desperation or need. They’ll thank their lucky stars for you xD. THIS IS SO CUTE, I’M GOING TO CRY! They’ll feel like you’re quite hard on yourself and they’ll not like that but they’ll still love you for it. They’ll love how when you do something that’s not moral according to you, instead of justifying it like most people do, you self loathe for a while instead. They’ll wish that you were kinder to yourself but at the same time, they’ll be glad that they at least have the excuse to pull that “you’re insecure, don’t know what for” kind of rizz on you AHAHAHA. You’re quite indecisive, they’re going to find it so frustrating yet so endearing. Like, you could have to choose between two drinks and you’ll just be standing there awkwardly, unable to pick 😭. That audio came through “you are my sea. you are my sunshine, the stars, the moon.” You could both develop a breeding kink regardless of whether you act on it or not. MOVING ON, they’ll love the way you express yourself and how the surroundings are immediately fun when you’re there. No matter how old you’ll get, there will be something young about your love and the fun that you’ll have together. You’re going to make them so happy and they’ll love how happy they will make you as well. There’s a radiance about both of you that comes from knowing and being your most authentic selves, pursuing goals, developing a stronger character, etc. which is why both of you are called to self expression, connecting with your sense of purpose, authenticity, inner power and abundance before you even meet each other. However, meeting each other is going to make the both of you even better, happier and radiant. They’ll love how happy you make them, how childlike the dynamic gets between the both of you sometimes. They’ll just love it all. The affection that they’ll hold for you knows no bounds, it’s ever growing. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 💕.
︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱
I have no clue what to say or how to start. Is this my loner pile? I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve experienced at least one loner phase. There’s some sort of a withdrawn energy to you. Despite this, you are extremely emotional and passionate to the point your shadow traits could include controlling. You’re also quite moody or are going to be at that time. They’re going to love that they can see this side of you. The side where your inner feelings come out in front of them xD. They’re going to love how compassionate you are towards yourself and others. Despite your withdrawn energy, you can be extremely over-giving. By that time, you’ll have learned enough self compassion thankfully. You will be a very fair person. You’ll be like “well, my actions led to such consequences”, you’re going to look at others like that too “their actions led to it”. They’ll love how external factors cannot sway you because of the isolation that you’ll have experienced at some point that will have made you extremely wise and rooted in yourself. They’ll love how balanced you try to be. I’m getting you being a more possessive pile though. You’re the type to get moody when you miss your lover. Seeing an interaction with anyone else could make you a little cray cray but yeah it’s not a crazy lot, just enough for you to playfully have a banter which leads to them making it up to you. They’re going to love how you’re actually going to think about them. You’re going to see and treat them like a partner, someone who deserves well. I’m getting a weird jealousy energy from this pile. “Go to your other girl” kind of thing that leads to bonding and makeup sex? xD. Your jealous side is going to be so sexy to them because they’ll want to be yours. “Oh my god, ___ is trying to claim me as theirs. I’M SO HAPPY THEY CARE!” AHAHAHA. The jealousy and demanding energy is not something unhealthy so it’s good. It’s not like the main energy of your relationship but it’s still very much present. They’re going to love your mean comments here and there 😭. You’re going to say something mean and they’re going to adore you even more for it 💀. You’re someone very emotionally closed off whether you realise it or not. I’m not picking up on a rude personality but you might be the type to give out love, abundance, smiles, etc. as if you have it all even when you don’t. You are the type to pretend to be happy and doing well even when you’re not. You’re also quite a hard-worker who carries it all within yourself. They’re going to love how they can see this side of you where you are doing your best but help ease out your burdens. This is giving heavy black cat and golden retriever energy. Funnily enough, I’m getting that on the outside, you’re more soft like a golden retriever but are a black cat on the inside. They’re going to really admire you. They’re going to see the sacrifices that you’ve made and still continue to make, without even complaining :(. This is so sweet. You might often feel like people don’t see all the things you’ve done for others, they’re going to notice it all. In fact, it’s usually very noticeable even to others, they just choose to ignore it. Your person is going to notice the smallest to get biggest of your sacrifices. You’ve experienced a lot, haven’t you? You already have actually. By that time, you’ll have experienced much more. You’ve always overcome every situation. You’ve overcome major moments of instability, grief and personal losses, and continue doing so. They’re going to admire and love your resilience. They’re also going to love how you don’t fear instability even when you try to maintain stability because you know how to work with circumstances at hand. They’re going to love how you are a ride or die and there for your close personal connections through thick and thin.
People who know you the most are the ones who respect you the most. You’re someone who is able to find solace in your own soul :( OH MY GOD, this is a very emotional spread and I’m so proud of you. Keep going 💗. They’re going to love how you don’t let bad experiences change how good you are as a person. They’ll love how much you persevere and try to do things by yourself. Honestly, you try to do everything by yourself because you’re used to it. It could be because you were an only kid, come from a less privileged background, parents having undergone a bankruptcy/health issue, the passing away of a family member, being the eldest kid, etc. I feel like when you were younger, even when you wanted and needed help, you didn’t get it but you still made it by yourself so you’re just used to it and by then, you’ll have mastered it. They’re going to love it because it’s something they’ll admire and adore about you, how much you take onto yourself with grace without complaining or boasting. They’ll know that it’s so natural to you that you don’t even know how big of a thing it is. Many of you, in fact, most of you in this pile had to grow up too early. They’re going to adore how they can help you and how you actually try to rely on them once in a while. You are someone very emotionally soft. You’re a really deep feeler but it’s only coming through now because it takes time to get to this extremely deep part of you. Most people won’t ever get there even with time because they won’t be able to understand a person like you without feeling inferior to you :(. You could be someone who is ‘have it all’ in front of others and a tougher person (with a soft aura somehow because being soft and loving is the toughest thing in this harsh world where everyone is trying to put everyone down) but when you’re at home by yourself, you have a more emotional way of dealing with your emotions, you cry, you listen to songs, you think deeply, you grieve, you forgive, you grow, you relapse but you always come out stronger. Well, to be fair, you carry so much upon yourself, you always have, of course you need to let it out somewhere. You also love people deeply. You take relationships of all kinds seriously and I can tell this with utmost guarantee that you’re someone who is respected by those who know you the most. Anyone who loses you, never forgets you and losing you is likely the biggest loss that anyone will ever experience. Your person is going to love it all, everything about you, I’m so happy for you. You deserve this deep level of love and you’ll receive it. You’re one of those people who has been the same since childhood, of course you’ve grown a lot and learned a lot but for you, you keep on coming back to yourself as a child, that’s the essence of you. You were extremely grown yet loving and emotional as a kid yet you also had a high level of maturity, wisdom and rationality. You had your priorities in place as a kid. You’ve always been a good person is what I’m getting. It’s just etched onto your mind, body, soul and heart. At some point in life, you were close to straying from it but you never did. You just couldn’t because how do you deny what makes every inch of you? There’s never been anything wrong with you. Have you made mistakes? As a human, yes but please never change. Actively get better but… there’s never been anything wrong with you. I’m crying. Thank you for being you. This is how your future spouse is going to feel about you as well. They’ll get to see your hardest and softest parts, and they’re going to love it all. They’re going to love you for you. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 💕.
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golden-cherry · 23 hours
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deal - cl16 (31/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The promised back massage - and friends help each other.
Warnings: 18+ (thigh riding, inexperienced!reader)
Word Count: 3.6k
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A/N: I'm so proud. Charlie won his home race! I'm still crying. feedback is appreciated!
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"So?" asks Charles as you move further and further away from the beautiful house. "What do you think of them?"
You smile at him. "You have a really great family, Charles. Maybe a little wild, but it's obvious how much you love each other."
He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the road ahead. "I love them more than anything. Ever since my father died, we've taken every opportunity to spend time together." He swallows briefly. "We appreciate each other. And that's worth a lot."
You carefully reach for his hand, which is resting on the shift stick, and turn it so that you can interlace your fingers with his. You place it on your lap and stroke the back of his hand in gentle circles with your thumb. "Thank you for taking me here. It means a lot to me."
"Actually, I didn't have any other choice. I think my mother would have kicked down our front door if I kept you from her." Charles has to grin. "I definitely wouldn't have survived that."
"So that's how it is," you grin and let go of his hand with mock outrage. "So you only took me with you out of pure self-protection."
Before you can cross your arms in front of your chest, he grabs your hand again and brings it up to his mouth so that he can tentatively blow a kiss on your knuckles. "Do you believe me when I tell you that it's incredibly important to me that you know my family? And that you like them?"
You feel the heat rush to your face as he brushes his lips over the thin skin of your fingers. You take a quick breath and stare at him before nervously - and slightly turned on - looking away from him. "Maybe." You try to sound as nonchalant as possible and hope that Charles doesn't notice the tremble in your voice. "I'm definitely glad Arthur didn't do anything to you. I bet he was a kid back then who just bit other children."
Charles has to laugh at that. Loudly and fervently, and you don't know if he does it on purpose, but he presses your hand firmly against his muscular chest and holds it there. You feel the vibration under your fingertips and air rushing through his lungs, and his laughter is so infectious that you can't help but join in.
When he finally lets go of your hand, he wipes the tears from his face. He takes another deep breath before letting out one last laugh and then places his hand on your thigh like it's the most normal thing in the world. The warmth of his skin almost burns through the fabric of your clothes. You try not to let it show. "Believe me, mon amour. I should even have a scar from his teeth somewhere."
When you stop at a traffic light, Charles leans forward a little and pushes his back through. When you hear a few of his vertebrae crack, you grimace. "Does your back hurt?"
"A little." He leans back into the seat again, but stretches his neck to the side. "Not being able to lean back for hours is more uncomfortable than you think." When he glances at you out of the corner of his eye and smirks, you lightly punch his shoulder. 
"You idiot." Charles laughs in response. "You're just after a back massage!"
"You take what you can get." His hand squeezes your thigh. 
You roll your eyes. "You could have just asked for a massage, you know? I imagine the stool isn't the most comfortable piece of furniture."
Charles shrugs. "I didn't want it to be weird in any way."
Your gaze focuses on his slender fingers on your leg. "Do you mean because of this morning?" you ask meekly. 
"Actually -" Charles clears his throat. " Because of Arthur, actually. He was hinting at something and - I don't know." He steers the car onto the street where your apartment is. When he takes his hand off your thigh to change gear, you miss his touch. Without another word, he parks the Renault in the building's underground garage and without looking at you, you take the elevator to your apartment. 
The silence between you is a little awkward. The fact that you brought up the incident from this morning has somehow killed the mood and you'd like to slap yourself for it. You could have left it at that - after all, you had spoken to each other and agreed that everything was fine between you - but you had stupidly cast it in a different light.
You get ready for bed in separate rooms in silence. While Charles brushes his teeth in the bathroom, you change in the bedroom and slip into comfortable shorts and a shirt that you're not sure if it belongs to you or Charles. When you run into each other in the hallway, you don't look at each other, but pass each other with lowered eyes. 
In the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face and are about to bang your forehead against the porcelain of the sink. Until just now, the day had been wonderful. You met his wonderful family, had a fun evening and although you had a little slip-up this morning, Charles and you got on really well. Your friendship hasn't been tarnished and apparently you've been so good to each other that the Leclerc family think you're a couple. 
That's another thing you need to sort out. Between the two of you and definitely with his family. Even though you've only got to know the Leclercs properly since today, you've already grown fond of them and it doesn't feel right to fib to everyone. Above all, it doesn't feel right to Pascale, who has invited you into her home and insists that you spend Christmas with them. Pascale, who has such a big heart and didn't hesitate for a moment to take you into the family. 
It's not fair to her - even if a small part of you wants to keep things the way they are. Even if it doesn't reflect reality, the word girlfriend doesn't ring false in your ears. The thought of it makes you feel warm and somehow the blood tingles in your veins. 
You blame it on the long day you've had and the fact that you're too emotionally exhausted to put one and one together. How crazy would it be if you were actually Charles' girlfriend?
You immediately push the thought aside when you return to the bedroom and see Charles lying on the bed. He continues to scroll through his phone without looking at you and doesn't even glance at you as you slip under the covers on your side of the bed. 
You want to press your face into the pillow and scream, but you can't do that because it definitely wouldn't ease the tension in the air. You could also cry quietly to yourself, but Charles would notice even that. But you could also -
"Am I still getting the back massage?" Confused, you look over at your friend, who puts his cell phone aside and looks at you. He shrugs and then runs his hand through his hair. "You said I should just ask. And I thought I'd try my luck." His hand wanders over the comforter and when he finds yours, he intertwines your fingers. 
"Charles -" you begin, but you don't know how to finish the sentence. You're relieved that he doesn't take offense at your comment and wants to ease the situation by pretending nothing happened. You would love to kiss him for it. The thought sends a warm shiver down your spine.
"Sorry," Charles apologizes as he mistakes your awkwardness for hesitation. "It was a stupid idea. I just thought -"
"It's okay," you interrupt him and squeeze his hand, whereupon he squeezes back twice. "Apparently the stool was super uncomfortable. And friends help each other, don't they?" 
The Monegasque returns your gentle smile. "Friends help each other," he repeats, his gaze flickering briefly from your eyes to your lips and back again. " 'Um - should I take my shirt off? I think that would be smarter, don't you?"
Before you can say anything back, his hand disengages from yours and in one elegant movement he pulls the garment over his head and throws it to the other end of the bed. You watch the muscles in his back flex as he slides down the bed a little and lies on his stomach without hesitation, as if he can't wait another second. 
You have to strain to tear your gaze away from him. "I think I still have some body lotion somewhere." You quickly run back to the bathroom, where you spot the cream on the shelf next to the door, and sprint back to Charles, who has put his head in his hands and is smiling at you. You stand uncertainly in front of the bed, swaying from one foot to the other. "Where - I mean - how -?"
"Just sit on my legs," he says gently and pulls the blanket off him so that you can sit on top of him. "I think that's easier than from the side. Isn't it?"
"I - I don't know," you reply quietly and stop in your tracks. Of course, it would make more sense to sit astride his legs, but then you would also be sitting on him. And you definitely don't want things to get weird between you again. 
"Just sit down, please. I won't bite." Charles reaches out and grabs your hand to pull you towards him. He doesn't let go until you swing your leg over his and get comfortable on the back of his thigh. "See? It's not so bad, is it?"
You're glad he can't see how hard you're swallowing. The fine hairs tickle the soft skin on the inside of your thighs and heat shoots into your face as you slide your butt around to find the best possible position. When you finally find it, you remove the cap from the body lotion. "Careful, it might be a bit cold."
"It's okay, it can't be that bad - oh fuck!" Charles exclaims as you pour the contents of the bottle onto his back. Goosebumps immediately spread across his back and arms and you have to stifle your laughter. "Don't you dare laugh at me. My goodness, you could have warmed up the cream in your hand!"
"Sorry," you grin and close the bottle again before placing it on the bed next to your knee. "I thought it would be easier this way."
"It's definitely meaner," Charles replies, glancing over his shoulder at you. "You owe me a longer massage for that. At least half an hour." 
"No problem," you smile. You hope he doesn't notice your hesitation, because it takes a few seconds before your head commands your hands to rest on his broad back and spread the cream. With your fingers spread apart, you glide over his spine, his shoulder blades to his neck, where you feel the first lump under your fingertips. Slowly, but firmly, you press your thumb over the spot. 
And Charles moans shamelessly. "Fuck, that feels good." He closes his eyes as you continue to work on his neck. "I think you've missed your profession."
"You think so?" you ask softly. Your fingers glide to his hairline, his muscular neck and back over his shoulders. "Maybe I wouldn't be unemployed right now."
"I'd hire you in a heartbeat." As you press the side of his left shoulder blade with your thumbs, he exhales audibly. "Yeah, right there."
Smiling, you look at him before returning to your task. "I think you're too old for that stool. I'll sit on it next time."
"You're only saying that because you're hoping for a massage too." Charles' voice sounds rough and deep, completely relaxed. With his eyes closed, he enjoys your touch and misses you biting your lower lip. 
Your mouth goes dry at the thought of feeling his hands on your bare skin. You'd be only too happy to repeat this morning's incident if it meant that nothing would change between you. That you would remain friends. 
Nervously, you slide around on his legs. "Maybe."
You don't receive an answer. In comfortable silence, you run your hands over his back, pressing certain points in his muscles that make the Monegasque hum and moan softly. It's nice to know that he can let himself go with you and that you seem to be doing him good. 
Your hands wander down to the hem of his shorts and before you can really think about it, your thumbs slide just underneath so that you can massage the marks the shorts leave on his skin too. Charles takes a gasping breath and for a moment you think you've gone a step too far, but Charles doesn't even open his eyes as he speaks. 
"I miss this."
You tilt your head, even though he's not looking at you. "What do you mean?"
"Being touched," he answers your question quietly.
You pull your fingers out from under the hem and let them glide over his spine. "We touch each other."
Charles lets out a sigh. "I know. But - I don't know." His mouth twists into a thin line. "That's something else."
"Explain it to me." 
"It's been months since I've touched anyone, or vice versa. And I'm not talking about friendly touching. What we do," he explains. You don't know why your heart tightens as if it has heard bad news. 
Your fingers trail over his shoulders and then down his arm. Goosebumps spread under your fingertips. "Okay."
"Not that I don't think it's nice," he tries to get his act together. "I love it when I hold your hand or when we cuddle in bed. That's not even up for debate." When your fingers reach his wrist, he grabs them and squeezes them twice. "I don't know how to describe it." 
"What exactly do you mean by 'touch'?" you try to draw him out. "I mean, apparently there must be a difference between what you mean and what we do."
Charles shrugs and lets go of your hand so you can continue. "I miss having my hair played with. Or having my legs rubbed." Lying down, he runs his hand through his hair once, "I don't know."
You chew the inside of your cheek. "Do you mean - I don't know - like more intimate touching?" When you hear yourself say that, you try to turn it around again. "I mean - I'm not talking about sex. But rather that emotional connection? That you feel close to someone and touching them, like playing with your fingers or rubbing your arms, feels different?"
Charles turns his head in your direction so he can look at you. "I miss being touched more intimately. I really crave it." He turns under you so that he is now lying on his back. He leans on his elbows. You don't know where to put your hands, which is why you hold them strangely in the air. You try to fix your gaze on his face, but it flickers briefly to his abs. Something that doesn't escape Charles' notice. "What about you?"
"What about me?" 
"My relationship went down the drain months ago. It's obvious I'm touch starved." He sits up straight and reaches for your hands, placing them tentatively and hesitantly on his chest. "I can't stop thinking about this morning."
You can feel his heart beating under your palm and there's a sparkle in his beautiful green eyes. "We're friends," you state the obvious. The one you agreed on. 
Charles nods. "And I don't want that to change either. I really don't." He exhales and you feel his warm breath on your face. "But don't you miss it? Being touched? Being touched intimately?"
As he licks his lips, your brain shuts down for a moment. "I've never - I don't - I -" you stumble over your words and heat rushes to your cheeks. You don't know why you're confiding in him. You don't know why your hands are wandering from his chest up to his shoulders. The only thing you can feel is Charles' arm around you, pulling you closer to him. His one leg slides between yours so that you're sitting on his bare thigh. You just hope he can't feel your arousal pooling in your shorts.
"Mon amour," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his other hand. From there, his fingers glide along the soft skin of your neck, over your collarbone, along your arm, until your fingers intertwine again. "Your shorts are pretty thin." He leans forward slightly and lays a feather-light kiss on your neck. You blow all the fuses. "I can feel you dripping for me. Let me help you." His hand settles on your hip and gently he pushes you back a little on his leg, but only to pull you forward again. Electricity shoots through your veins as you moan shamelessly into his face. "Friends help each other. All you have to do is say yes."
Something primal flares in his eyes as he brings your hand to his mouth and places his lips on your knuckles. A gentle gesture that is in complete contrast to how you feel inside. Fire blazes under your skin, heat coursing through your whole body as he places your hand against his cheek, then presses a kiss to your palm. "Nothing changes," you murmur, to which Charles nods. 
"Nothing changes," he confirms. "We stay friends." His hands slowly slide under your bottom, under the hem of your shorts. You feel his hot skin on yours as he rocks you back and forth on his thigh. "I promise."
Your crotch rubs against his leg with such relish and when the hem of your shorts catches on your clit, you burn out all your fuses. "Yes."
Charles' lips find your neck as his hands cup your ass and guide you over his leg. With your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed, you dig your fingers into his shoulder blades. Pleasure pulses through your body as his mouth moves over your neck, sucking lightly on the thin skin but not lingering long enough to leave a mark. Each kiss is gentle, the complete opposite to his grip on your ass and the way he rubs you over him. 
"Charles." Your voice is little more than a sigh and you think you can feel his raging boner against your leg, but the thought quickly fades as one of his hands pulls away from you. Instantly you miss his touch, his skin on yours, but before you can do anything, his fingers reach into your hair to gently pull your head back. 
"I'm here, mon amour," he breathes against the newly won space on your neck. Gently, he sucks where your pulse is, and you think you feel his teeth against your skin for a moment. "I'm here."
You don't know where to put your hands, so you just use them to press his face closer to you. You feel his tongue at the point where your neck meets your shoulder and arch towards him. "Please."
You don't know what you're asking for, but Charles knows all the better for it. He rocks you over his leg, which is wet and slippery from your arousal, and as your knee gently bumps against his cock, he moans into your ear. 
Absently, your hands disengage from his hair and scrape down his chest to the hem of his shorts, but before you can go an inch further, his thumb and forefinger curl around your wrists. "Mon amour, today is about you," he murmurs, kissing your cheek as he notices your disappointed look. "Don't pout. Otherwise we'll stop here and now." 
You move over his thigh on your own and, without taking the chance, you nudge his boner again with your knee. "But you said -" you begin, but Charles lets go of your hands, only to hold them behind your back. 
"Nuh-uh." His lips find their place against your collarbone. Apparently he notices that you close your eyes, because his free hand rests gently against your throat. "Look at me, mon amour." His voice is no more than a gasp as you open your eyes and look up at him pleadingly. You want him closer, want to feel his lips on yours, his cock splitting you in half. You want him to ruin you for any other men.
You approach the cliff, willing yourself to plunge down it, but when you close your eyes again, Charles merely presses your lap against his leg, preventing you from moving any further. You look at him in shock. "Charles."
"Fuck, I love it when you say my name." He holds you tight, chest to chest, and you try to move somehow, to rub against him. And he lets you. His hand loosens from your wrists while the other continues to rest on the column of your throat, but doesn't squeeze. "Look at me, mon amour," he repeats to himself, shamelessly sliding his hand inside your shorts so he can cup your ass. With one final movement, he pulls you forward, the hem of your shorts rubbing perfectly over your swollen bundle of nerves and white lightning flashes through your veins. "Look at me when you come for me."
And you do.
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urfavlarry · 3 days
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hii! i love your writing so much! So can i request Joost x fellow artist!reader with one bed trope? Something like - Joost and reader have tour together, but hotel staff messes up their reservation and instead of two different rooms they get one and maybe reader is all shy with the whole situation bc she has feelings for him idunno 😭🙏
Awkward Situations
Joost Klein x artist!reader
summarry: ..one bed in the hotel room, how does that go when both of you just want to go to sleep after a tiring day from touring
genre: fluff!
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“I’m very sorry, but all rooms are booked for the night so there is nothing I can do for you other then give you the card to the room we booked for you.” The receptionist says to you, looking at you with a sympathetic look. You’ve been trying to bargain with her for the past 15 minutes, telling her you booked a totally different room but the hotel was full since it was summer and most people are on holiday at this time. You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and take the key card, thanking her quietly before grabbing your suitcase and leaving. Joost trailed quietly behind you, letting you cool down since you were a bit upset from the situation. Anyone would be since you were tired from performing all day and couldn’t wait to have some tine for yourself but the hotel just had to mess something up. You didn’t try and cause a scene, it was mostly just going back and forth trying to find a solution but without success.
You walked down the hall, dragging your luggage with you and open the door, setting your stuff down and grabbing important stuff before running off to the bathroom. Meanwhile Joost looked around the room. It had a lot of space, the balcony giving you a great view of Frankfurt, the place you performed tonight. He lit a cigarette and snapped a quick photo before putting his phone away and admiring the view. He watched the cars pass by, music softly playing somewhere across the street and laughing could be heard just a few streets away. He threw the cigarette away, walking back into the warm atmosphere of the hotel. You were already done with getting yourself ready for the bed, laying down on your stomach and watching something on your laptop. You edited some footage your crew took from the concert and tried to get as much done as possible before deciding to watch a movie. You put on a random shitty comedy movie, getting comfortable under the covers. You were on the side of the bed where the nightstand was, leaving Joost to sleep on the side near the wall. You heard him get out the bathroom and feel the bed sink, a strong smell of some random shampoo hitting you like a truck. You got some butterflies in your stomach, trying to focus on the movie.
You were half asleep at around 2:29 AM, yawning and putting on a different movie. You closed your eyes, Joost already asleep and snoring softly. He was the type to always toss and turn in his sleep, but tonight he was suspiciously still. You were falling in and out of consciousness, seconds feeling like hours when you suddenly feel him moving around. He put a hand on your waist, a quiet yelp escaping your mouth. He pulled you a bit closer, his back only a few inched away from you. Sighing, you accept your fate and try to fall asleep, succeeding just after a few seconds.
In the morning, you felt trapped. You couldn’t move, eyes shooting open. You were faced with someone’s chest.. Joosts chest. Your face felt hot but you chose to ignore it, admiring his morning features. You didn’t dare move, knowing Joost wasn’t really the biggest fan of mornings, practically having to drag him out of bed every time you were on tour. He started shifting, his eyes slowly opening so you quickly close yours, trying to act like you’re asleep. He loosened his grip on you, you could feel his intense gaze on you before feeling lips on your forehead. “Morning..” He says in his groggy, morning voice before getting up, probably to shower or change. After what felt like hours, you open your eyes, grabbing your phone and checking the plans you had for today. The next concert was next week in Switzerland, then two days after that concert you were going to Italy. You were excited, always having the dream to travel the world someday which was finally becoming a reality. You shiver slightly, standing up to grab a hoodie from your suitcase and skin care, sitting down and grab a small mirror you brought so you could get ready. After finishing, you put your hair in a hairstyle you thought would fit your outfit for the day. Standing up you go on the balcony, getting some fresh air. You let your mind wander, thinking about all kinds of things before feeling a pressence beside you. Of course it was Joost, who else would it be? He stood there besidde you quietly, coffee in hand and handing you your usual. You thank him quietly, letting the warm drink heat your hands up.
It was a comfortable silence, something you usually had on mornings like these before Joost spoke up. “Slept well?” You look in his direction and nod, siping on your drink.He also nodded, the soft and comfortable atmosphere turning tense. He cleared his throat, trying his best to come up with a topic which wasn’t usually this hard for him, so why was it now? “Are you.. okay? Were you uncomfortable?” He asks, his tone being more worried then anything.
You shook your head, finally sparing him a glance. “It felt nice.” You say, awkwardly and he just nods, letting the silence engulf you once more. You went inside, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward around your best friend. You get changed and decide to go look around Frankfurt. You and Joost talked like nothing ever happened, leaving the morning incident behind. You went inside a museum you found interesting, paying for everything and going inside to explore. It was nice, a lot of things took your interest but Joost seemed like he was in his own world, just walking around and looking dazed. Once you decided it was time to head back, you made your way to the hotel once more. You met a few fans, most of them being thirsty for Joost anyway but finally you got to your destination. Joost looked pretty annoyed about something, sparing you a few glances and pouts. You sat down next to him on the bed, deciding to get the information out of him. “What’s wrong?” You ask, making him chuckle. “Being blunt, are we?” You shrug and raise a brow, your leg bouncing impatiently. “Joost, what’s bothering you hm? You haven’t started a random topic for 15 minutes. Which is very unlike you might I add.” He stares at you dumbfounded but shakes his head. He shrugs and looks like he is trying to find the right words to explain his sour mood. “Well, last night..” He starts and you mentally curse. You really were hoping this wasn’t mentioned but it had to be at some point.
“I liked.. what happened and I’m pretty sure you did too because you would’ve spoken up about it, I know you enough to know you speak up about things when you’re uncomfortable with something.” He starts and you try your best to not break eye contact with him, letting him speak his mind. “I didn’t only like that, I like you and have for almost a year and I thought we could.. try?” You smirk, deciding to tease him; “Try..?” You smile and he looks at you with a ‘really?’ face. “You want me to spell it out for you? I want us, to be together, at least try. We can work something out I know we can.” He says and you nod, inching closer to him. “I’d love to Joost.” You say and he stands up spinning you around making you giggle like a child. The rest of the night was just you two making fun of the situation and what convinced Joost to confess. It really was funny that one bed made you get together with the most amazing person on earth.
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Text
tuesday in the park (a.d.)
pairing: divorced!art x reader
synopsis: your alone time at the park takes an interesting turn when a little girl breaks the quiet, but maybe... her dad is a good company.
warnings: language, smoking, mention of divorce, lily is an adorable lil oblivious cupid, sooo much tension tho, maybe smut in future parts? idk
notes: i am back and pathetic bitch boy art has officially given me a brainrot. this is also very self-indulgent and heavily based on my irl experience (except the fact that it's art, sadly) soooo... enjoy!
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City parks are fucking depressing. Especially the industrial type that’s square, and covered in concrete and has, like, four trees. They’re all well-manicured and hung with string lights, but there’s still barely enough greens to call it a park. And to add insult to injury, a Tiffany’s installation art currently sits at the head of the park—a giant diamond ring in a lush velvet box the size of a Range Rover. It’s gaudy as shit, and the massive Aston Martin billboard overhead is an assault to the eyes. You honestly have no idea why you’re sitting here.
Oh, right. It’s like 2PM on a Tuesday afternoon in some downtown office area, so there’s nobody else there. You can just sit and smoke and watch the water spout from the ground in pretty patterns. The steady rhythm of the fountain jets quiets the chaos in your mind.
Inhale. Exhale. As the fountain hisses and ceases, hisses and ceases…
And then suddenly… another pattern.
A pitter-patter. Like little footsteps. Quick moving, and then it stops. Right to your left.
You turn your head and see a little girl sitting right next to you. Her white sneakers look so small next to yours. She pushes a lock of dark ringlets off of her face as she watches the floor fountain in quiet curiosity and awe.
It takes you a moment to realize you still had a cigarette in your hand. You quickly stub it out as far from her as you can. “Uh… hello.” You frown at your own words, but how the fuck do you talk to kids in this situation?!
But the kid looks up and smiles at you politely. “Hello.” she nods and then returns her gaze to the water bursting in canon.
You’re even more confused. She doesn’t even seem deterred by sitting next to a stranger—willingly, at that. “Well, are you… are you alone?” 
“No. With my dad,” she answers, light as a feather.
“Oh, good. Good.” You sigh in relief and look around for any sign of a parent, adult, anyone looking for a missing child. “Where’s your—”
“Lily! There you are!” A man’s voice cuts through the dull noise of the city. You turn around to see him rushing over to the little girl, grimacing apologetically at you. “Sorry. I’m not a negligent father, I swear. I just… turned around and this little monkey’s run off.”
The little girl—Lily, apparently— giggles as her dad throws her a look, gentle but firm. “You said we could watch the water fountains, Daddy!”
“Yeah, but don’t run off like that…” He rolls his eyes, though you notice his sharp jaw twitching with a hidden smile.  And then, leaning into Lily’s ear but still loud enough within your earshot, “And you certainly weren’t supposed to invade this nice lady’s personal space—”
“It’s no trouble. I was just sitting here,” you quickly wave him off.
“Daddy, can I play over there?” Lily points at the streaming water at the center of the park.
The man pulls a face. “I don’t know, Lil—”
“Come on, Daddy…” 
“No way.”
“Just for five minutes. Please?” She bats her eyelashes, and you can immediately tell it’s her father’s Achilles heel. Because as much as you try to stay out of the conversation, you can hear the audible sigh coming from him, followed by,
“Fine. Five minutes, okay?”
The little girl bolts off to the fountains, tiny hands reaching out to the jet streams, testing out how strong it is. Figuring out the fountain pattern and stepping on each jet right as it shuts off, one foot after the other. It makes you wish it was socially acceptable for adults to do that, too. 
“You’re free to sit and watch her from here, if you want.”
He looks at you, like really looks at you for the first time. At your rolled-up button-down, the chain around your neck with a pendant he can’t see under your collar. But mostly at your kind eyes—weathered, witnessed, but somehow not judging.
He pushes his short blond hair out of his face the same way the little girl does, and the similarity almost makes you laugh… if you weren’t so worried about making a fool of yourself in front of this handsome man. “You sure? I… didn’t want to intrude.”
You shake your head softly and scoot over on the steps, allowing him just enough space to sit down.
He notices the stubbed cigarette between your forefinger and middle finger. “You got another one on you?”
It takes you a beat to realize what he’s talking about. “Oh!” You reach for your pack of Camel, and offer it to him, one cigarette stick already pushed out for easier access.
He takes it with a polite smile, but then pauses upon realizing he has no lighter either. “Um, do you mind if I borrow—”
You lean in as he puts it between his lips, one hand cupping the light from the breeze, and his heart stops at how close you are. Close enough to notice the gloss on your lips. Close enough to get a faint whiff of your floral perfume.
(And unbeknownst to him, your heart stutters a little, too, and you hope he doesn’t notice the way you fumble lighting your own cigarette.)
“Thanks, um…” he trails off. 
You tell him your name, and he repeats it almost thoughtfully. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, like he’s chasing the taste of your name as it leaves his mouth.
He nods. “I’m Art.”
He does look like it. The navy blue sweater hangs just right on his broad shoulders, understated but high-quality. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, showing a sleek black Piguet around his wrist. A simplicity to complement his refined features. His bone structure is cut like the gods, but the permanent frown etched between his brows, casting a shadow over his deep-set eyes, tells you that he is facing the troubles of man. And the awkward way he’s holding his cigarette makes him look like a boy. Of course, you can’t say any of that to him, so you settle with,
“Nice to meet you, Art.”
He can’t remember the last time somebody said that to him and meant it. And right now, sitting in this concrete park alone, he can see no pretense coming from you. No ass-kissing, no sizing-up, just a genuine kind gesture of a stranger. And it makes him so fucking relieved. 
“So what brings you out here?”
“Work, actually. A meeting,” Art replies somewhat vaguely. He’s not really keen on divulging the details of sponsorship and endorsement deals. Not when you don’t seem to know who he is. “Lily saw the park from the window and insisted we check it out when we’re done.”
“Ah, does she normally tag along with you to work meetings?” You ask with a playful glint, although the unspoken question of his whole situation is well heard. “She should. She looks like a great negotiator. Just saying.”
He chuckles. “Maybe she should. My, uh…” Art stops himself before he could say ‘wife’ because Tashi isn’t that anymore. Not his wife because they aren’t married anymore; not his coach either, because he doesn’t play tennis anymore. “Lily’s mom and I take turns every other week.”
And there it is. Your lips pull up into a soft line, not quite a smile but a gesture of understanding. “Must be tough.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it’s a lot of changes. But she’s doing okay, I think…” Art pauses, “I hope.”
You follow his gaze and look at Lily, who must be playing some kind of Indiana Jones fantasy scenario with the water fountains. Not an ounce of care in the world. “She looks like a tough kid.”
“She is.” Art smiles bittersweetly. “Anyway, you didn’t come here to listen to my sob story. What brings you to this park?”
The air that pulls both of you in releases, and you lean back on your elbows against the concrete. “Oh, I just finished work and I… needed some air.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m an interpreter.”
His eyebrows shoot up in interest. “Like the Nicole Kidman movie?”
“Exactly.” You point your half-cigarette at him, and share a tentative smile with him.
“Do you do, like… high-profile, UN-related assassination investigations, too?”
You chuckle, shaking your head. “It’s not nearly as cool in real life. Most of it’s pretty boring, like contract negotiations and focus group discussions…”
“But the stories you must’ve heard, right? Or do you just… zone out at some point?”
“Sometimes. Sometimes you end up shutting off your brain and go on autopilot.”
“But not today?”
You smile ruefully at him, and he knows the answer. You take a thoughtful puff of your cigarette. “It’s… a bit hard when they’re talking about… how they had to jump off of the ship and swim across the channel in the dead of night, because they would rather die in the open water—a couple of them did— than die working in the fishing vessel…”
“Fuck.”
“And I know it’s not really meant for me—they’re talking to my client sitting next to me. But when they look you in the eyes and speak to you…” you trail off, taking a long drag of your cigarette.
Art takes it as a cue for his cigarette, too, although he notices you tapping the ashes off one, two, three times. “Must be tough.”
You roll your eyes playfully at him for quoting your own words back to you. “Ah well, it pays the bills. Besides, I get to clock out at 2PM on a Tuesday and enjoy this…” you inhale through your teeth disdainfully, “beautiful, brutalist… Soviet-core park.”
He laughs, the real kind of laughter that throws his head back, and it warms your heart enough to laugh, too. “It’s bullshit, isn’t it?”
“It’s bullshit! And what the fuck is that horrendous giant ring doing here?” The two of you cackle over the installation art across the park. “And that billboard… it’s ridiculous.”
Art’s laughter dies down on his lips as he looks up at the billboard in question. The Aston Martin “Game Changers” campaign from last year. Fuck. Even when he’s completely separated from Tashi, her presence still looms over like a panopticon.
You turn to him with a smile still etched on your face, completely oblivious to the storm in his head. “What?”
But he looks ahead, too caught up in the hurricane to hear you. He just… looks up at the billboard, his face darkens.
Oh.
You feel silly for not putting two and two together—you’ve been staring at the billboard mindlessly for a good fifteen minutes, goddammit— so you tread very carefully. “That, uh… Lily’s mom?”
Art looks down on his lap, as if not daring to look at Tashi’s picture. Or at Lily, or at you. “Yeah.”
There’s no right word for it. There’s no coming back from this, nothing he can say can make this better, and he can’t help but kick himself for fucking up. What he is fucking up, he’s not entirely sure. But he’s not ready to end this conversation with you, not on such a weird note.
“I can’t imagine what it must be like…” because you can’t. Losing a spouse is hard enough, but to have it out there in the open…
“It’s tough,” he nods in confirmation, and you smile feebly at his attempt at a callback to your little inside joke. To the moment where things are fine, all things considered. 
If the air ebbed and flowed earlier, it must’ve just… froze now. You don’t even remember the cigarette in your hand until the ash falls onto your hand and you gasp at the sudden heat, putting it out on the ground.
“I’m sorry. I should get out of your hair—”
“Do you wanna get a drink some time?”
The question catches both of you off-guard, eyes blinking at each other in shock. He didn’t think he heard you right, and your mouth seems to work faster than the filter in your brain.
Your face runs hot, and you chuckle sheepishly. “Sorry. You probably don’t wanna hear that—”
“I do.” He’s not sure which question he’s answering. Maybe both? Definitely both.
“Oh! Um…”
And right in that moment, Lily comes padding over with squelching steps in her shoes, completely drenched but over the moon. “Daddy, Daddy, that was so much fun! Can we come back here? I see lights on the floor, and I think the fountain lights up at night!”
Art puts out his cigarette under his shoe, chuckling at his daughter,  “Baby, you’re soaked! Did you try to take a shower there or something?” immediately wringing water out of her hair.
“I’ll take a real shower when we get home.”
“Well, duh. But I don’t want you to catch a cold… come here.” He crosses his arm to grab the hem of his sweater and tug it over his head to put it on his daughter.
The girl looks thoroughly unamused as the clothing item falls halfway down her calves and the sleeves nearly touch the ground. “Daddy, this is ridiculous.”
You grin, and you can’t help but wonder how much of that sass came from Art. “Looks pretty chic to me.”
He nods at you, glad that you’re backing him up. “Thank you.” He then turns to Lily pointedly.
Lily half-smiles at you. “Thank you,” although she still isn’t quite convinced.
“I’m sorry, we really gotta go. But how do I, um…” he trails off. Gosh, he was hoping to do this out of Lily’s sight. Lily’s sight means Tashi’s sight, and he’s not ready for that talk just yet.
“Take my card.” You whip out a neat stainless steel case, and slides out a white-and-blue business card. Your name is printed in a sleek black font, right above ‘Interpreter’ in a smaller case. Your email and phone number follows.
His fingers brush against yours as he takes it, and he prays to God or whoever is up there that he doesn’t give anything away to you or Lily. Not a quirk, not a peep. Just two strangers connecting by chance.
“Thank you.” He nods evenly as he pockets the card, trying to contain the butterflies in his stomach—he’s always thought he was too old for that by now, but maybe… just maybe… “You have a nice day.”
“You, too.” You squint up at him under the sun, and then smile and wave at the little girl. “Bye, Lily.”
She waves at you as Art sweeps her up into his arms, and you don’t let yourself turn all the way around to watch them leave. Instead, with one final look at Art’s “Game Changers” billboard ad in the distance, you grab your pack of Camel and light another cigarette between your lips.
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fragileheartbeats · 2 days
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𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀
♡ ⭒ㅤ𓈒 天使顔 ㅤ𝅄ㅤ ㅤ྄
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꒰͡ ⠀ ִ 𝐻 𝑆 𝑅 𝑀 𝑒 𝑛 𝑥 𝐹 𝑒 𝑚 𝑅 𝑒 𝑎 𝑑 𝑒 𝑟 ⠀ׂ ⠀ ͡꒱
♡ㅤ𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝅄ㅤೀ
— 𝘋𝘢𝘯 𝘏𝘦𝘯𝘨, 𝘚𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘈𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘙𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰, 𝘎𝘦𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘥, 𝘑𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘠𝘶𝘢𝘯, 𝘊𝘢𝘦𝘭𝘶𝘴, 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘦, 𝘓𝘶𝘰𝘤𝘩𝘢, 𝘞𝘦𝘭𝘵, 𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘰 <3
˚꒰♡꒱‧ Hi there! Before you read this, you should know that English is not my first language and this is one of my works that I posted in my previous blog. Hope you enjoy!
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ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆 | 丹恒 ─ 𓇼 . ♡𝆬
He felt a sudden, unfamiliar warmth overtake him as he saw her for the first time. It was as if the sun and the universe suddenly aligned in a perfect formation and he felt purely alive. His heart raced faster than ever as the sheer beauty of the woman before him seemed to draw him in like a moth to a flame; both scared yet in awe of what the future may bring. He felt completely lost in her eyes that spoke a thousand words. They were deep, warm and inviting; begging him to explore their secrets. He felt his body reacting to her in ways he had never thought possible, yet also at the same time familiar. She smiled at him with a mix of curiosity and understanding, making the world around them seem to stand still and allowing him to take in the moment. Every feature of her face seemed to perfectly fit together, a delicate combination of curves and angles that gave her an angelic aura. He suddenly realised what was happening and felt overcome with emotion at realising he may have feelings for her. Even though it happened in an instant, it felt as if he had been traveling down this unchartered course of emotions all his life and she was here to bring them all to life. A powerful wave of love and passion filled him, making him feel both weak and strong at the same time. He felt an urge to take her in his arms, make her his and never let her go. It was a feeling so strong, yet he knew it was one he wanted to nurture ever so gently; blossoming with every beat of his heart.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 | 星期日 ─ 𔒌 . ♡𝆬
When he saw her, his heart skipped a beat. Soft light shone down on her, creating an almost angelic aura around her. Her gentle curves and enchanting grace mesmerized him. Even amidst the piercing noise and fast-paced environment, he noticed her. He felt himself being drawn to her. He watched her for a moment, mesmerized by her beauty, forgetting his existence in that bustling place. He admired her delicate features and innocent smile. Feeling overwhelmed by the strong emotions, he hesitated to make the next move. His feet carried him towards her without his volition. With each step, his heart beat louder and faster.  Finally, they locked eyes. The electric current that ran through his veins at that moment was indescribable. Without a word, they felt the same thing, a connection, a feeling that two souls can transcend beyond boundaries and words.  At that instance, he knew he had reached his destination. He felt something draw him back home with her and he knew his soul had found a partner. His heart raced as everything in his life suddenly clicked into place.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 | 砂金 ─ 𓐐𓎩 . ♡𝆬
He was walking down a busy street when he saw her. It was like time had stopped for an instant as he looked into her stunning, captivating eyes and felt an instant connection. His heart raced and his body felt alive as he admired her beauty and grace. She seemed to be glowing as he looked into her eyes. He felt a wave of emotions that was both enticing and overwhelming. Her soft, gentle smile seemed to fulfill the emptiness within his heart. His chest was tight and yearning, but the feelings were so intoxicating he couldn’t resist them. He didn’t know who she was, but he knew he had to make her his. Just then, she looked away, breaking the moment and sending him into a mental tailspin. He had never felt such an intense emotion before in his life. He felt lost, almost like he was dreaming. Desperately, he wanted to know her. He wanted to hear her voice and know her name. He watched for her throughout the day and the next. He followed her through the streets, longingly. At long last, she saw him and smiled. As she stepped forward and made their acquaintance, he felt he could be brave enough to let her in. Love at first sight seemed almost too pure and perfect, but in this moment, he knew it was real. He was speechless and filled with tender emotions. From that moment on, they were inseparable, and he knew he had found the one.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎 | 真理医生 ─ 𓇢𓆸 . ♡𝆬
He sat by the window sipping his drink, musing his thoughts when suddenly, his eyes fell on the enchanting beauty on the streets. He had never seen someone so gorgeous, so mesmerizing. All the beauty he had ever seen before seemed to pale in comparison.  He felt his heart flutter as he watched her as she walked down the road. He never wanted to take his eyes away from her. She was the loveliest person he had ever seen.  He felt overwhelmed by her presence. His heart raced like never before and he was flooded with a multitude of emotions. He had only saw her for a few moments, but he already knew he would never forget this moment. He was filled with a feeling of genuine love, he was sure he had fallen in love.  He felt his whole body tingle as if it was being electrified by a thousand tiny currents. All of a sudden everything seemed so vivid. He felt as though every emotion was as strong a feeling as the first.  He knew it was impossible to turn away from her presence. Everything felt perfect. Even if it was just a moment, it felt like an eternity. He cherished these moments more than ever in his life.  He felt an unexplainable connection to her. He could feel her soul reaching out to him, and it kept him connected to her even after she had gone.  For this moment, the man knew he would never forget it. He was in love.  His heart set ablaze, filled with the warmth of love.  Ratio was truly in love.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐆𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐃 | 杰帕德 ─ ☘︎ . ♡𝆬
He was walking through a crowd of people, when his eyes unexpectedly landed on her. Instantly, his world seemed to completely stop. He felt like he had seen an angel. Her eyes were big and round, sparkling with a deep hint of wisdom, and her lips were full and a gentle pink color, pressed together in a gentle smile that he wanted to feel against his own. He was taken aback by her beauty, her wondrous presence. In that instant, his heart fluttered in his chest and he swore he felt like he had finally come alive. This was something entirely different from the beauty of the things he had seen in the past, something that he couldn't even describe with words. Love seemed to flow through his veins like a river newly crossed. He felt like if he could only reach out to her, he could be free from all of his worries and sadness. He wanted to call out to her, to let her know how deeply he felt this connection, yet no words seemed to come out of his mouth. Instead, he nervously wiped his hands on his pants and carried on as if nothing had happened.  He wasn't ready to say anything, but he knew that he had to see her again. As he walked away, he felt a strange unfamiliar sensation - something he'd never felt before. He knew in his heart he had found the one.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍 | 石火梦身 ─ 𓆉 . ♡𝆬
He looked up in sheer awe and admiration; his heart was slowly being captivated by this beautiful creature that seemed to grace the room with her presence. All the noise around him melted away in an instant, and he felt as if he had stepped into an alternate universe. He couldn't take his eyes off her; it was as if his gaze was forever locked on her. Her silky smooth h/c hair glided down to her waist, and her delicate silhouette was radiating something so captivating, it felt like he was under a spell. He felt a warmth in his chest that told him something was special about this particular moment. It was as if his heart was gently humming a delicate melody that sang its own song of love; something had stirred within him, something that he'd never felt before. But as quickly as it happened, it was gone. What remained was a feeling of sadness, yet his heart seemed like it had been lit on fire with a hope for something more. He'd never felt such emotion for someone he wasn't even acquainted with before; he knew there was something special about the woman in front of him, something he'd never experienced in his life before. For something so strong to wash over him in mere seconds, it almost felt like a miracle; he felt blessed to have been able to feel such a magical feeling in the short seconds of a single glance. He knew he'd found someone special, someone who touched his heart like no one else had before. He knew he'd found someone he wanted to learn more about, someone he would love for eternity.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐔𝐒 | 穹 星 ─ 𓆤 . ♡𝆬
He gazed at her in awe, his heart feeling like it was going to burst out of his chest. With each glance, she grew more and more bewitching. The sun shone from behind her, casting a halo around her beauty. Mesmerized, he watched as the gentle curve of her lips curved up in a shy smile. His heart froze and then began to flutter like a hummingbird's wings. He felt his cheeks heat up in a fierce blush. He knew then he had been smitten by her.  He tried to play it cool, but his eyes were glued to her, drinking in her delicate beauty. Her skin radiated a golden glow, her hair a lush curtain of glorious h/c. His heart raced faster with each passing moment, pounding against his ribcage like a drum. No words passed between them, yet he felt their connection was undeniable. His pulse raced even faster as they stood there in that moment, their eyes locked in an unspoken language. A deep feeling of admiration and desire swelled up from the depths of his soul and he felt overwhelmed yet completely captivated by her beauty and grace.  The moment seemed to linger in time and he knew in that instant, he had truly fallen in love.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄 | 刃 ─ 𖤣𖥧 . ♡𝆬
He had never believed in love at first sight, but in this moment he felt like his entire heart was singing. The woman seemed to be composed of liquid sunlight and her beauty, though breathtaking, was secondary to the energy and power that she exuded. This was something more, something transcendent. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, as if getting ready to welcome her. His pulse raced and his breath caught in the back of his throat as he drank in the sight of her. His eyes locked onto her with an intensity that he couldn't even begin to explain. He felt his chest swell with emotion, never wanting to be separated from the moment that seemed to stand still. Time seemed to pass in slow motion as he watched her gentle movements, her soft curves, and her warm smile. It was as if she spoke to him without saying a word. He wanted to reach out and touch her, to know that this feeling of pure joy was real. He wanted to keep her forever, to ensure this moment of pure bliss lasted forever.  In that instant, he knew that his life had changed, and he felt such a strong connection that it felt like the universe was pulling them together. And in that moment, he fell in love.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐋𝐔𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀 | 罗刹 ─ ✉ . ♡𝆬
He looked up to the sky and saw life right in front of him. He had been walking alone when he suddenly saw her, a woman with beauty like no other. He stopped in his tracks and his heart began to beat faster, like never before. The sun shone off of her, like an angel descending from heaven. He could not take his eyes off her. The way she walked, like a graceful swan, the way she smiled, showing her warm personality and the way she moved, like a professional dancer. He felt as if his feet were glued to the ground. His breath got shorter and he felt a heat wave spiraling across his body. He knew right away she was the one, with her captivating looks and her loving soul. He felt as if a connection had been formed without even exchanging words. He felt a love he never had before, it was so strong, it sent shivers down his spine and made him feel complete. He felt a type of beauty he had never felt before, like he was in a different world, a world in which two hearts could unite together. He thanked the heavens for letting his eyes to fall upon such a beautiful woman, one he knew that will stay with him forever in his heart.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐓 | 瓦尔特 ─ ♬ . ♡𝆬
The moment he laid eyes on her, he felt something electric run through his body. The world seemed to suddenly stand still and all other noises were muffled, replaced by a single thumping beat – the sound of his own heart. He felt as if he had just been transported into a different world, as if all of this was somehow dreamlike in it's reality. She was ethereal to him in that moment, her beauty transcending into something almost magical.  Through her simple presence, she had given him more than he had ever expected. Her rich e/c eyes seemed to stare straight into his soul captivating him into her own special spell. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't seem to peel his eyes away from her face, her perfectly s/c skin reflected the sun's light. Her enchanting smile revealed just how deep within her heart she was, and it was this that finally made him truly understand love. The intensity of the moment overwhelmed him and he felt powerless in trying to control it. Every nerve in his body was alive with sensations of warmth and euphoria, invoking his deepest emotions and primal instincts. In that moment, love had made its mark. He knew that it was something special, something special that was meant to last forever. He knew this, and he cherished it for the rest of his life.
ㅤㅤ ꣸ ﹒𝆋 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐎 | 桑博 ─ ꪔ̤̥ . ♡𝆬
He felt as though his heart had wings; it flew, and lifted, and soared. His eyes lit up and his body began to tremble with anticipation. His gaze followed her until she was out of sight. He was captivated by her beauty, how the sunlight sparkled against her luminous hair, how her lips curved in an effortless, gentle smile. He felt the heat of her presence radiating off of her, warming him from the inside out. He was struck by her grace and poise; her beauty transcended beyond shallow physicality and revealed the soul within. She was living art, the perfect example of artistic creation. He imagined her as a painting hung in a museum, appreciating her seemingly never ending beauty. Her movement shimmered, like the wake of a mermaid, captivating him in her own unique gravity. He was entranced in an aura of serendipity, held captive in her presence. He could not quite find the words to describe how he felt; the complex mixture of emotions that surged through him in her presence was something he had never experienced before. In that moment, he was enveloped in a sparkling new world of love, the sweet sound of a beloved song playing in the background of his mind.
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@ 𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒔 . 𝐷𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡, 𝑜𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑠𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑠𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑠.
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youryanderedaddy · 3 days
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When Life Gives Lemons
tw: female reader, technically non con because of stealthing, baby trapping, breeding, obsessive behavior, reader being a bit rude
You couldn’t believe the irony of your life. You were about to break up with your immature boyfriend, and he still managed to be grossly late to the date, unconsciously digging his own grave deeper. You had put on your best white shirt and the tightest skirt you owned, and you even went through the trouble of booking the latest hipster coffee shop close to the centre. He had been fifteen minutes late, to be exact, and when you brought it up, he simply shrugged a long sleazy smile, dragging his skeleton - shaped metal rings against the edge of the table.
“All in due time, princess.” He took a sip off his coffee - a single shot of espresso with no creamer, as always. “All in due time.” He repeated, reaching in his pocket for a pack of off - brand cigarettes. He really couldn’t afford any of the fancy ones. Once the cigarette was lit, he slowly brought it to his lips and inhaled deeply, letting his head relax against the chair. His thick neck tightened as he swallowed the deadly smoke, and even the sun seemed to avoid his messy dark locks, instead keeping the man in the shadows.
“What does that even mean?” You threw your hands around helplessly, sinking into your chair. “Don’t you want to know?” Axel teased, taking another puff. Although his expression was one of mild amusement, his sharp blue eyes were carefully following your every movement - wondering what will tip you off the most. “You know, you’re so fuckin’ hot when you’re mad, mami.” He smiled in a playful boyish way that once would have made you melt, but now only served as a reminder of his unserious nature.
“Stop playing around. I need to discuss something imp–”
“Shhh, don’t talk, babygirl. I need to show you something.” Axel interrupted, gripping the big guitar closer to his lap. ”I wrote you a song.” His thin fingers grazed the delicate transparent strings, forcing a catchy, although not fully polished melody out of the old thing. He took a deep breath, wetting his lips so the lyrics would come out softer. 
My girl knows how to set me
on flames she goes through 
the motions of the wind she
is a fireball, a fireball, on fire
“What the fuck, Axy.” You pounded your fists at the table, shaking the glasses and spilling coffee all over the wooden surface. You could feel everyone’s judging stare across your back, all of the other patrons were jeering and whispering about the two of you, and your cheeks were heating up by the moment. “I’ve told you countless times to stop writing those shitty songs. They don’t even rhyme, for fuck sake.” You whined, suddenly overwhelmed by helplessness. He was never going to change, was he? “This is exactly why I want to break up.”
The music stopped entirely. His dark sunglasses ended on the ground. 
“You wanna break up?” The musician repeated slowly, suddenly appearing awfully composed - so composed it made you look crazy. After that question he remained silent for a very long time, taking long drags off his cigarette while studying your face for any sign of your true feelings bleeding out. “Real’ funny, babe, real’ fun joke.” He forced a crooked smile, reaching in to squeeze your hand all the way through the table. “Now tell me, what’s wrong with the song? I stayed real’ late to compose it just for our date today.” He winked, which only made you feel worse.
“I am being serious, Axel. Let go of me.” Your tone turned icy and your ex boyfriend quickly released you, eyes filling with raw fear. “Wait, baby, we can talk about–”
“There is nothing to talk about. You’re such a child!” You blurted out, too frustrated to spare energy on fluttery words and sweet apologies. “I want to do my masters soon. You know I’m applying to Metwyorth - I can’t be seen hanging around with a high school dropout who does Saturday gigs for a living.” You continued, pursing your lips together. You knew you were being harsh, cruel even, but this was the only way to push him away. The musician could be awfully clingy, so you needed to be firm.
“A highschool dropout who made you scream your brains out.” Axel responded bitterly through clenched teeth, eyes growing dark with anger. You shook your head bashfully, avoiding his fiery gaze. “Sure, we had our fun,” You gestured vaguely at nothing in particular, trying to hide the shame blossoming on your sides. “But it’s time to wake up. I mean, be realistic. We live in different worlds.” You began to collect your things quickly, standing up to leave.
“Y/N!” He called out to you, causing you to turn back just for a second - you owed him that much for all the good memories you knew you both would have trouble forgetting. “You’re making a mistake. Please, think it through.” The man took a hold of your hand, caressing your fingers gently. “I know I can’t offer you much right now, but I really love you!” His eyes dilated, honest and clear like an untouched sea on a quiet day. 
“Goodbye, Axel.”
***
You meet him sooner that you’d like.
Two weeks later you’re drunk off your mind, dancing the night away with some of your girlfriends when you catch a pair of familiar eyes fluttering across your body from the other side of the room. It makes you feel hot all over - despite what you said back then, you felt each agonising moment of the break up. Even if the logical part of your brain knows you have no future with such a man, your body needs him, craves him. 
Axel keeps staring at you intensely, burning holes through your neck, your thighs, your lips. His yearning gaze lingers, completely miserable, and yet as lustful as the night he first wrapped his arms around you and claimed you as his. He can still feel your nails scratching his back red and bloody, sending shivers down his spine and setting fire in his loins. This staring game of yours lasts for approximately thirty minutes before he gives in and comes over to your table. He doesn’t say anything - doesn’t look at you or greet your friends, doesn’t even pretend to have any reason to approach you. He simply grabs you, swallows an airy pant, and drags you inside the bathroom.
You’re all over each other in no time. His hands are tangled in your hair and your nails are sinking into his warm flesh once again. You can’t breathe for a second, suffocated by a deep, longing kiss that he only spares you of once your lips start to turn blue. He licks your neck and bites at any spot vulnerable enough to steal a gasp out of you - and you return it by sucking on his collarbone until a purple hickey adorns his skin. You swiftly unzip his loose pants and start taking your dress off, but as you try to spread your legs, he turns you around facing the wall. 
“Fuck, I wanna do you from the back, princess.” Axel mumbles, one strong hand gripping your throat as the other gropes your breasts freely. You nod weakly, too turned on to comprehend any of the words he’s saying. “Ngh, wanna be able to pull your hair n’ shit.” His fist wraps around your ponytail, pulling slightly so you expose your neck to his teeth. You can already feel his throbbing manhood prob at your thighs, slowly moving towards your entrance. “Y-you have a condom on, right?” You manage to whimper through the little electric bursts of pleasure running through your whole body as he plays you like an instrument. He mumbles something like “yeah”, and in this state of mind that’s enough for you.
He starts sinking into your heat slowly, letting you adjust to his hard length inch by inch, then once you’ve settled, practically begging him to just give it to you, he begins thrusting painfully slow - really making you feel it going in and out, in and out in a perfect rhythm. Each time his cock brushes against your most sensitive spot, you’re reduced to a slick, desperate mess, but just as your thighs begin to go numb and you slip down, Axel catches both of your wrists and pins them to the wall, keeping you in place. You’re so wet you can hear the slap of skin on skin every time your gummy walls hug his member, but you’re too far gone to care about the nasty sound.
“F-fuck, baby, you’d be so fucking hot as a mother. Have you ever thought about it?” Your ex whispers against you, picking up the pace. You shake your head - kids have never been your priority, since you’re still so young and your education would always come first. “I thought about it. A lot, ‘n fact, when we were separated.” His heartbeat fastens. “Ugh, you’re still so tight, god…” His free hand dances at your hips, ogling and caressing any curve it can find. “When you dumped me, I was completely lost, ya know? Didn’t sober up for three days. But then I dreamt that I knocked you up accidentally. S-shit, did you just tighten up?”
Your whole body stiffens at his words. Your stomach fills with unexplainable dread - this whole conversation is turning you off, but somehow your body seems to have a mind of its own. 
“Q-quit it with the small talk, asshole.” You groan, pushing back so you’d get more friction between your legs. “Just fuck me, okay? I don’t need to hear your weird fantasies.” You hear yourself saying confidently despite the provocative position you’re currently stuck in - you can’t even see his face, but you know he’s probably laughing at your bossy comment. But instead he keeps blabbering on as if you’re not even there. “You were so beautiful, princess. So big and–” He bites his lower lip. “So fucking needy for me - just like now. You were dripping everywhere. You were so excited for our little baby.” He grunted hoarsely, reaching in to stroke your clit - and despite your best efforts, you let out a soft moan. 
“And we were a family - just you, n-ngh, me and the little guy.” Axel utters through clenched teeth, trying to hold out for as long as possible - savouring you in tiny little bites. “No stupid degrees or anythin’, just us two against the world.” He slows down further, now barely moving inside of you. It’s driving you crazy with anticipation - both his story and the way he’s fucking you. “And it made me think, we could really have all that - if it wasn’t for your stupid pride. All I need to do is knock you up. Just think about it.” The man grips your hips roughly, impaling you on his thickness. 
“Your tits will swell, your thighs will thicken; you’ll be so tired you’ll have to lay down all the time. You won’t even be able to touch yourself because of your belly.” He smiles at you gently, although you can’t see it. At this point you’re already so close to climax you can’t break through the cotton cloud haze that’s taken over your mind to truly focus. This is one of the reasons you had to break up with the musician - he could get you cockdrunk with a simple touch, and that vulnerability felt terrifying.
“And I will take care of you through every-” He kisses your cheek. “single–” He kisses you again. “step of the way.” He inhales deeply, thrusting in one final time before he spills inside you. “I love you, baby. I really can’t let you go.”
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Joyride
Leah Williamson x Reader
Word Count: 1.4k
A/N: Only Fletcher can help get me out of a writing slump
[WOSO Masterlist]
You’re not sure how this happened.
You’re supposed to hate her, supposed to despise the very ground she walks.
But here she is, Leah Williamson, in your kitchen at hours so early they would be considered blasphemous to the normal everyday person. Dressed in nothing but one of your boxers and ratty college t-shirts, you can’t help but rake your eyes over her figure. 
Leah’s got half of her face buried in your fridge, looking for some food, but still, you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful.
Letting out a quiet sigh, you tear your eyes away and refocus onto the spoon in front of you. Given that you weren’t really expecting any company last night, Leah can’t really blame you for not having much in your fridge to offer as breakfast.
You were quite nearly asleep yourself when you heard the knock on your door. An extra long training session paired with the club you went to the night before left you with barely enough energy to shower and microwave some leftovers when you got home. Only about half of it was eaten before you decided to call it a night and trudge up your stairs, your bed already calling for you. It was there, halfway up the stairs when you heard the clear rap of knuckles upon the door.
Though you were bone dead tired, the second you opened the door to see Leah, suddenly all traces of sleep flew out of your mind. You fisted a hand in her shirt, dragged her in for a bruising kiss, and the rest was history.
You look back up when Leah lets out a cry of triumph. There’s an air of smugness around her as she takes a bite of the peach she found, somehow looking so goddamn attractive even as the nectar drips onto the table. If Leah was literally anyone else you would be up in arms about keeping your kitchen sanitary. But given the less than PG things she did to you here last night after showing up unannounced… well let’s just say it would probably be a bit hypocritical of you to tell her to be more mindful of your kitchen counter.
And there you have it. A very domestic scene with Leah, the two of you enjoying the minimalistic breakfast whipped up on the whim. 
God, how did you end up here?
Before a couple years ago, you only knew briefly of Leah. And then the Euros happened. The second England knocked you out was the second you decided to make an enemy of the English captain. It was bad enough your own captain tore her ACL moments before the entire tournament began. All hopes of making her proud ended with your own departure from the tournament.
In your dreams the quarter-final ended differently. You and the Spanish girls tore up the field and ended up bringing the trophy home. But then you woke and news of the pending transfers broke, and then you were sat with the idea of having to share your every breath with two Euros winners at training every day.
And thus came the beginning of the end.
In all honesty, you didn’t hate Leah long.
With the addition of her best mate to your squad, it was no surprise how often Leah came over to Barcelona. Keira’s appearance paired with Lia’s relationship with Mariona left Leah with a multitude of excuses to continue showing up to games and nights out with the team.
It sure didn’t help that after one particular night where the two of you drank a little too much, the two of you woke up tangled in your sheets wrapped up around each other. Despite your attempts at calling it a one night thing, one night turned into two and two into three and then suddenly every time Leah came to Barcelona the two of you ended up spending at least a couple hours together in bed.
Neither of you have really broached the topic much. Somewhere along the lines, everything changed. Though the sex was still very much there and still very very good, you guys began going on what could be considered dates. You showed Leah all the best places in Barcelona. She introduced you to her best friends at home in London. You surprised her by going to a couple of her games, she returned the favor just as quickly. In all pretenses the two of you were dating.
But you are a girl with standards, and those standards meant waiting until Leah came up with the nerve to actually ask you out before explicitly turning this into a real relationship.
And here you are, still waiting.
“I’m hungry.” 
You’re broken out of your thoughts by a sheepish looking Leah. Clearly the peach wasn’t filling enough by the guilty look still on her face.
It’s honestly more evidence of your failure as a host, but you can’t help but poke fun at her a bit.
“Well that seems like a you problem. I’m still eating.” As if to prove your point, you give your spoon another lick.
Leah raises an eyebrow at your clear challenge. “I want actual food.”
“What, peaches aren’t enough?”
“Peach. Singular. And I need more than one to be full. I’m an active girl after all.”
You snort. “Oh are you? I could’ve sworn I’ve seen you kicking balls around with the rec team down the street.”
Leah’s mouth drops open. You swear she actually looks offended at your jest. “Rec team? I’ll have you know Arsenal is the best football club anyone could play for.”
“Yet you’re here. In Barcelona. We actually have a big girl’s team here if you want to join.”
“As if I would ever,” she scoffs.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” It’s your turn to be on the defensive. Having come up through La Masia, you were Barcelona bred through and through.
“Oh hush you, I know Kei has been trying to convince you to manipulate me to join. You guys may be my favorite people but I’ll leave Arsenal when hell freezes over.”
Your heart makes a strange flutter at Leah’s admittance of fondness for you, but you do what you do best and deflect instead. “And here I was, thinking you came to see me.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t.”
“Oh, so now I’m supposed to believe you hopped on a flight to Barcelona in the middle of the season just because you wanted a quick fuck?”
“Well I…” Leah looks a bit awkward as she tries to explain her presence. “Lia didn’t want to fly over here alone. So like a good friend…” she trails off with a wince.
Having too much fun to leave this alone, you continue to prod at her. “You call hooking up with me being a good friend to Lia?”
“Psh, semantics. She’s here to see her girlfriend too. It wasn’t like we were going to see much of each other anyways.”
“Oh, so we’re girlfriends now? Don’t think I ever got that memo.”
Leah’s face flushes a bright pink. “That’s not-- I wasn’t saying-- Don’t get me wrong--”
She buries her face in her hands when you burst out laughing, clearly having caught on to what you’re doing now.
“Stop teasing me! I barely got any sleep last night!”
“And whose fault is that?”
Leah rolls her eyes before breathing out a long breath. 
When she sets her shoulders, you can almost see the return of cocky Leah. She rounds the counter, coming dangerously close to you.
“Put the spoon down.”
It’s your turn to raise an eyebrow. “Make me.”
Leah’s grinning when she gladly does as you say. One hand comes to grab at your wrist, the other finding purchase on the tabletop behind you. 
You watch with half lidded eyes as she guides the spoon to her mouth, hand never touching the silverware itself. Before you know it, she’s licked clean the peanut butter, leaving you with nothing but a new kind of hunger burning in your veins.
Leah hasn’t even let go of your wrist before you’re hooking a hand behind her neck and dragging her in for a kiss.
If Leah wanted to see just how good of a girlfriend you’d be, you would just have to show her.
And what better way than to introduce her to your bed again?
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6esiree · 2 days
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More Than Just a Sugar Baby
Summary: Imagine you’re Alastor’s/Lucifer’s/Husk’s sugar baby and one of you starts to develop feelings?
Warnings: NSFW, AFAB reader, swearing, a little bit of angst if you squint? Husk is drunk, but that’s it. I wasn’t happy with Vox’s and Adam’s parts so I’ll upload those soon. MINORS, DO NOT READ!!!
Alastor:
Romance was not something Alastor dealt in, everybody knew that, so when a pretty little thing like you suddenly showed up at the Hazbin Hotel in search of him instead of redemption, they were…confused. Nobody dared to pry into the man’s private affairs, however, shut down by a mere stare over the shoulder as he escorted you upstairs. This continued religiously every Saturday night, your secret arrangement never escaping the confines of Alastor’s walls.
“Oh, mon chéri, why are you being so quiet?”
You sighed as Alastor placed a gentle kiss on your clit, his arms wrapping around your thighs to part your legs, which you were too shy to do yourself. “That’s better,” Alastor murmured, his tongue slithering past his teeth. “But not quite what I’m looking for.” You tossed your head back against the mattress with a cry as he licked at your clit, which is exactly what he wanted to hear.
Lick, kiss, lick, kiss—Alastor did this back and forth, relishing in every noise that escaped your throat, including the way your hips tried to wriggle away from his ministrations. You didn’t recognize the man between your legs, and truthfully, neither did Alastor, overcome by something he had worked so hard to suppress since he manifested in Hell: carnal desires.
“Is this what you wanted all along, hm?” Alastor asked you as he lapped at your cunt, making for a filthy sight.
The sexual aspect of your arrangement was new, at least when it came to you being on the receiving end, so you were afraid that if you gave Alastor a verbal response, you would tell him more than a simple ‘Yes,’ months of getting on your knees in exchange for salvation from the financial hole you had dug yourself into making you feel…certain things for him.
“Well, yes—“ You started.
“‘Well, yes?’ Do not lie to me,” Alastor interrupted you, the sound of radio static flooding your ears. “Just admit that you kept pleasuring me for something you no longer needed.”
“That’s not entirely true…” You tried again, but there was no point in lying when you had already fucked up from the beginning. “Okay, fine. I’m a liar. It’s just—I don’t want to be your sugar baby anymore, Alastor.”
“If that’s the case, then why did you continue to return to me?”
“Because I want something more.”
A foreign feeling stirred in Alastor’s chest at that, and while he didn’t know what it was, he did know that he preferred to hear what you said more to any other sound you’d made thus far. He latched onto your clit, suckling it and making you feel rewarded for your honesty. You were close, so, so close, but then Alastor brought his head up with a ‘Pop!’, any complaints you had dying on the tip of your tongue when he crawled up to you.
“Part those legs for me, won’t you, mon chéri?” Alastor told you, settling his fingers on his belt buckle as he peered down at you with a smile, his cock straining against his pants. “I will give you something more, alright.”
Lucifer:
Nobody was aware of your arrangement with Lucifer, not even his own daughter, and he intended to keep it that way. Even when he moved into the Hazbin Hotel shortly after it was rebuilt, the man told you through the phone an hour before you were supposed to meet, “Just tell me when you’re outside, alright?” allowing him to whisk you away in secrecy, a smile on his face as you lit up at the sight of his wings.
“Fuck, please keep doing that—yeah, just like that, honey.”
Lucifer carded his fingers through your hair, a groan escaping his throat as your tongue leisurely traveled up his cock. But when you peered up at him through your lashes and gave the head a wet, sloppy kiss, the man yanked your head back, his body stiffening as an orgasm racked his body. Knowing that it was the third one of the night made your heart swell with pride.
“That was…quick,” You said, giggling when he shot you an unamused look.
Even though Lucifer didn’t mind a little teasing, he couldn’t help but wipe that smile off of your face, his tail wrapping around your waist. You yelped as he tossed you onto the space next to him, your heart pounding violently against your ribcage at the suddenness of the act. “Lucifer!” You scolded him, your face flushed in embarrassment as he hovered above you with a toothy grin.
“Aw, why’d you stop laughing?” Lucifer arched a brow at you.
You would have responded if he hadn’t trailed his hand down your shorts and past your underwear, locating your clit with ease. Lucifer chuckled as you parted your legs, your head sinking further into the pillow, but your displeasure never leaving your features. “You’re the worst,” You muttered, your eyes fluttering shut as the pads of his fingers moved up and down your folds, collecting your slick.
“Yet you keep coming back to me,” Lucifer said, leaning into your neck, staying there as he added the next part in a joking manner. “You must love me then, huh?”
You sighed, your back arching off of the mattress as he slowly sunk his fingers inside of you, stretching your walls with a delicious burn. His thumb massaged circles onto your clit, too, the combination feeling heavenly. However, you particularly enjoyed watching how Lucifer’s arm flexed as he worked away at your cunt, the way you clenched around his fingers a testament of that.
“And if I do?” You whispered, feeling his breath hitch.
Lucifer brought his head up to look at you, his hand coming to a standstill. You opened your mouth to ask him why he had stopped, but then he curled his fingers upwards, pressing against that velvety spot inside of you. “And if you do…” He said, seemingly considering your words as he fucked you with his hand, the room filled with the filthy sound of your squelching cunt. Your eyes fluttered shut with a cry—fuck, you were so close.
“Well, uh, if you do, you wouldn’t have to worry about money ever again,” Lucifer added tentatively, assuming that was what you cared about the most.
“Yeah, but…I’d also get to wake up next to you every morning,” You said, looking at him with half-lidded eyes.
Lucifer suddenly captured your lips with a kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise. The two of you had agreed not to do that when discussing the terms of your agreement, finding the act too…intimate, reserved only for lovers. But there you were, letting each other know how you truly felt by defying one meager rule, all while his fingers continued to work away at your cunt, preparing you for the long night you were in for.
Husk:
Husk lost the ability to love a long time ago—that’s what he told you when he offered to help you with your financial situation, positive that the sexual aspect of your arrangement wouldn’t affect him. But as the months passed by, he started to feel a distant ache in his chest, guilt enveloping his heart when he realized it only worsened with every visit you paid him. So, what did Husk do? He drowned himself in liquor, trying not to let his feelings get in the way.
“Shit, babydoll…ya treatin’ me s’good.”
You kissed at Husk’s neck, your hand buried in his pants as you stroked his cock at a leisure pace. He was usually the one on top, but he came into your room utterly inebriated tonight, asking you to take care of him as he collapsed onto the mattress. You could tell that Husk wanted more, his hands bunching your skirt up over your waist, the pads of his fingers running down your cunt through your panties, but he was drunk.
“Always,” You said, feeling him throb in your hand.
“C’mere,” Husk said, patting his lap. You hesitated, but you eventually retracted your hand from his pants and complied. “Why ya bein’ so shy, mm?”
“Maybe because you’re drunk—“ You started.
But then he grabbed your hips and tried moving you against him, his brows knitting in confusion when you didn’t budge. You ached for Husk, truly, but how could you give him what he wanted without feeling guilty about it? That is what you wondered as he tried to shrug off his own pants, the man growing frustrated as he failed to realize his suspenders were still on.
“Just needa get these fuckin’ pants off.”
“How about I use my mouth—“
“Nah, lemme—“
“What’s wrong with you!?”
You hadn’t meant to blurt that out, but watching Husk drunkenly struggle underneath you made you feel sort of…upset. Not to mention that this wasn’t the first time he had come to your little meetings like this. As you stared down at him, you started to wonder if he was doing it on purpose, the hurt on your face sobering him up a bit.
“Shit, shit, shit,” Husk said, panicking as he pulled your skirt down where it belonged.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you,” You said, but he wasn’t having any of that.
Husk shook his head, holding onto your hips as he sat up. He was no longer hard at this point, so you straddled his lap, your eyes fluttering shut as he reached out to cradle your jaw. “Don’t apologize, babydoll,” He muttered, the stench of whiskey wafting into your nostrils, but you were too busy focusing on the feeling of his thumb swiping across your cheek to care.
“Is everything alright?” You asked. “I’m only asking because I’ve noticed that you’ve been coming to me all drunk and shit.”
“Yeah,” Husk said, but when he noticed how unconvinced you looked, he sighed. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with me, I’ve just had a lotta shit on my mind, s’all there is to it.”
“Y’know, Husk? If you don’t feel comfortable with…this anymore,” You said, gesturing to the two of you, “You can just tell me.“
“No!”
Now it was your turn to be surprised, blinking as Husk massaged his temples. You had no idea that he was trying to figure out how to tell you that he’d been getting drunk so he’d feel less guilty as he fucked you, refusing to end your arrangement not only because you needed the money, but because he was selfish, too. “Husk?” You said, your hand settling on his chest, his heart racing against your palm.
“I’m just gonna give it to ya plain and simple,” Husk sighed, placing his hand over yours. “Look, I like ya, and I didn’t wanna say anythin’ about it.”
“But why’d you get drunk?”
“I got drunk ‘cause I’m fuckin’ selfish, alright?” Husk said, raising his voice at you by accident. “Sorry, babydoll, I just feel like a jackass right now.”
You leaned in and placed a kiss on Husk’s nose, trying to show him that you weren’t upset. In fact, you appreciated his honesty, relieved to know that he didn’t find you…disgusting or anything. “Let’s talk about this when you’re sober, okay?” You said, pushing him down onto the mattress. “For now, let me take care of you.” Husk’s face flushed at that, but the way his cock twitched underneath you felt more rewarding.
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evie-sturns · 2 days
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tummy ache - Chris Sturniolo
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summary: your boyfriend chris is typically clingy as it is, but when he comes down with a stomach ache and a fever he can't keep himself off of you.
contains: nsfw, oral (male receiving), flufff, sub!chris, swearing, clingy!chris
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chris and i have been dating for over a year, he's always by my side when we're at home, and like today when we go out.
the blaring music echos through the mall, chris sits down on one of the couches as i sort through various bags i've picked up today, chris hasn't let me pay for any of them.
"um-" chris clears his throat, i look over at him with a small smile,
"i think we need to go home." he whispers with a small crack in his voice, my eyebrows twist,
"oh- no thats fine yeah." i nod, "you okay?" i follow up.
"my stomach hurts." chris mumbles, i stand up with the several bags in my hands and heave him up off the couch.
"aw chris, i'm sorry." i say, grabbing his cold hand and guiding him through the countless people near the exit to the mall.
he goes silent, something that rarely happens meaning something off.
i squeeze his hand lightly and look up at him with a small 'are you okay' look on my face, he shakes his head with a light sigh.
"we'll get you home chris, car is parked just over there!" i smile, stepping out into the parking lot.
i almost drag him over to the car, i swing open the door for him and help him into the passenger seat before walking round the front of the car and jumping in myself, i set the bags down by my feet before looking over at chris.
he just shrugs with a small pout,
"you think your stomach hurts 'cause you had too much soda?" i joke softly, earning a weak laugh from his soft lips.
i press a kiss to his cheek before starting up the car, "you want some music?" i ask before pulling out of our parking spot.
"oh- yeah thank you." chris says quietly before connecting his bluetooth to the car.
--
we pull into the driveway after a short drive, i turn off the car and chris hops out.
i jump out with him and reconnect our hands and walk with him up to the front door, he rubs his eyes as i rummage through my purse for the keys.
i click open the door and step inside,
"you wanna go grab some water and i'll set up the couch for you?" i ask, chris nods eagerly
"yes please, thank you." chris smiles before walking over to the fridge,
"chris-" i call out, "no- no pepsi thats not gonna make you feel better."
"mmgh it always makes me feel better though." he whines, i shake my head,
"water bottles are bottom right" i smile before jogging into the living room, the cool breeze from the air conditioning hits my skin.
i tug a blanket out of the small basket in the corner of the living room before throwing it onto the couch, i walk back into the kitchen and grab a small clear bowl,
"are you feeling throw up sick, or just sore stomach?" i ask,
"i- i dont really know." he wipes his forehead,
"better safe then sorry!" i shrug before trotting back into the living room and flopping down on the plush of the couch.
chris walks into the living room, wearing baggy jeans and a black shirt, his cheeks red and small droplets of sweat on his forehead.
he undoes his belt, leaving him in his loose boxers before he flops down on the couch.
his heavy body is halfway on me as he buries his face into my chest.
i press the back of my hand to his forehead,
"oh sweetheart, you're 'fuckin burning alive." i laugh with a sad smile,
he groans in response,
"c'mon, have a sip of water for me." i whisper, he holds the plastic bottle up to his raw lips and downs a good quarter of it.
chris flops back down onto me, i play with his hair while his head presses on my torso.
suddenly he lets out a crunchy cough, "jesus-" he mutters,
"god- you really are getting sick," i laugh, chris nods as he relaxes into my body.
"i think i'm dying" chris says dramatically, "i think you are okay chris"
"can i do anything else to make you feel better?" i ask, running my hands through his long floppy hair, he hesitates for a moment before opening his mouth,
"just some mind blowing head maybe.." he grumbles, i shake my head with a small scoff
"i mean something serious christopher." i reply,
"i am serious!" he protests.
he looks up at me from his position on my chest with his blue doe eyes, "please?"
i sit up, chris follows and sits up off me as well
i get up off the couch with a small giggle, chris manspreads with a stupid smirk.
i drop to my knees between his legs and rest my fingers on his thighs,
"please..?" he whispers slightly, i reach my hands up to the waistband of his boxers and tug them down teasingly, just enough to reveal his base.
"tell me what you need." i say calmly, chris lets out a needy whine, his leg bobbing up and down on the spot, "please." chris breathes out again.
i tug his boxers down to his mid thighs, his throbbing erection springs out.
i lean foward, wrapping my lips around chris's tip, a soft moan exits his mouth as he gently tangles his fingers into my hair.
i swirl my tongue around his red tip before taking more of him further down my throat, earning a small gag from me.
"close-" chris warns, bucking his hips up, forcing him further down my throat as his hands grip my hair tighter. i pull off his cock for a second to catch a needed breath,
"oh god-" chris protests as his cheeks flush, small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead, he runs his hand though my hair. i wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "i know baby." i say, quickly wrapping my mouth around him again as i scratch his thighs with my nails.
i bob my head up and down quicker, chris's whimpers filling the room.
i look up at him with squinted eyes, he squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth.
i can see his breathing intensifying before he releases in my mouth, i pull off of him.
"you don't have to swallow that-" he says, placing a hand under my mouth.
i spit it out into his large hand, "you might need to drink more water" i laugh, chris lets out a small giggle,
"i knowww..." he groans, wiping his eyes.
chris wipes his hand on one of the tissues next to the couch before tugging his boxers back up.
i stand up and flop down on chris's lap, straddling him slightly.
chris coughs into his elbow,
"if you get me sick i'll-" i start, but i'm cut off by a crispy cough in my mouth from chris,
"oh my god chris! you're disgusting for that!" i say turning my head away from him with a grin,
"you just sucked my dick its not that gross..."
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golden1u5t · 2 days
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a reason to survive | s.r x fem!reader
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ꨄ requested: anonymous
ꨄ genre: fluff
ꨄ summary: telling spencer you’re pregnant when you go to visit him in prison
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You sat down at the table in the interrogation room Emily had arranged for you, waiting for them to bring Spencer in. When the door opened you quickly wiped the stray tears from your face and turned to look at him, the officers took the cuffs off his wrist.
Spencer sat down across from you and frowned, he could tell that you'd been crying, that something was bothering you. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing- nothing's wrong. I'm happy to see you." You reached forward and grabbed his hands, you looked down at them and smiled softly. "Spence, I have something to tell you."
God, his heart dropped and shattered to a million pieces, he was prepared to hear the worse from you. You moved your hands away from his and put them in your lap, looking up at him. Spencer could hear your foot tapping against the floor, something you only did when you were nervous.
"I took a pregnancy test last week, i haven't been feeling too good." Your foot stopped for a brief moment, when he didn't say anything it started back up. "Say something, please."
Spencer's lips parted and then closed again, he looked around the room before finally speaking. "Is it- l've been here, for the past two months."
Now, he was never the one to accuse you of anything because he knew how much you loved him but it was the first thing that came to mind. He didn't like the thought of you being with someone else while he was incarcerated but it was the only explanation, well, to him.
“i'm not- I haven't cheated on you, if that's what you're saying. I went to the doctors and they confirmed that i was 3 months. I-| don't know how i didn't know until now." You reached for his hands again. Spencer looked at you, eyes wide and lips parted, he couldn't believe what you were telling him.
Suddenly a wave of guilt washed over him, he pulled his hands back from yours and ran his hands through his hair. You stared at him, thinking that what you told him wasn't something he wanted to hear.
"I can't believe you're pregnant. I hate that you'll be going through it alone because i'm in here and there's no way i'll be getting out before you have the baby, i'll miss it." Tears welled in his eyes as he thought about you going through your first pregnancy alone.
"Don't say that. Your team is the best team out there, they'll get you out." You tried you best to be optimistic. The door opened and your time was up, you reached for him one last time.
"I just need you to stay alive in here, okay?"
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shirecorn · 2 days
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There are many creatures in this world that earn the definition of "people." Their paths to sentience are as diverse as the shapes and sizes in which they come. For mermaids, mimicking humans and hunting them in packs led to intelligence, language, and society.
Mollusks never hunted humans. They stayed in the depths and communed amongst themselves and eventually with the mermaids who shared their habitat. Long before humans knew of their existence, mollusk and cephalopod people were part of many bustling mermaid societies.
Small wonder, then, that humans referred to them as mermaids on every occasion in which we encountered them. As far as sailors knew, things that swim are fish, and thus octopus are fish, and thus octopus people are mermaids.
In truth, mermaids evolved from fully formed fish, which had long split off from the ancestor of mollusks. The other phylum was forging a new path without bones. Thus, sentient creatures who arose from mollusks could not be mermaids any more than they could be fish.
But the name has stuck around. "Octopus mermaid" is more easily parsed than "Octopus person," despite the scientific community's insistence on the latter. Those that make a distinction have coined the term Cecaelia for them, but this has yet to catch on. Beneath the waves, mermaids refer to them by a variety of names, depending on the language. In sea common, the term they use directly translates to "Mirror."
This arose because cephalopods have skin made of chromatophores; cells that flex to reveal and hide their color. These "mermaids" use this trick to create a pseudo face on the top of their mantle, with which they interface with actual fish-mermaids. Their real eyes are held on either side of their head, in the place where our ears would be. To further the illusion, the arms branch and split in a simulacrum of mermaid form: head adornments, two arms, a chest, waist, and tail. So creatures that evolved to mimic humans were in turn imitated, though for different reasons.
There are none more talented at disguise than the mirror known as the Mimic Octopus. This creature is able to stretch its form and change its colors to look like a variety of animals to hide, intimidate, or entertain.
This specimen is seen conversing with a lionfish mermaid on a peaceful coral reef. At first, the colors and shape shift only gently, as the mimic is relaxed in its natural form. Suddenly, it stretches out its spiraled tentacles, the subtle stripes growing into thick bands to match the venomous spines of its lionfish companion.
The two of them continue their conversation, punctuated by the cecaelia's kaleidoscope of shifting skin. Perhaps this is how they laugh.
If you are curious about other people of the sea, you can find more research in the following libraries:
High Resolution || Mermaid Requests || Discord || @worldofvonder
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winterrrnight · 2 days
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touch starved rafe getting the hug he’s so desperately needed all his life <3 a rafe cameron x reader blurb <3 inspired by this bot by the one and only @pearlzier ! <3 cw: minimal swearing, mentions of blood, rafe being anxious, hurt/comfort, intentional use of lower case
“oh man…” rafe breathes out, his steps unstable with blood covering his hands and tear stains on his face as he practically stumbles inside your room.
“I’m… I’m so fucked man… so so fucked…” he mumbles, his words rushed and frantic. you rush to your feet after getting up from the bed, watching how he nervously paces in your room, his fingers slipping into his curtain bangs and pulling on the roots aggressively.
“somethin’s… somethin’s seriously wrong with me and…” he hiccups, his gaze fixed on the floor of your room as he continues to pace, and you watch him with bated breath, your hand gripping on the edge of your bed to keep yourself supported as you watched him with wide, nervous eyes, “and I don’t know what to fuckin’ do…”
you let out a shaky breath, a breath only audible to your ears as you continue to watch his nervous pacing. in your time of knowing rafe, you’ve never seen him so… fidget-y. you can see how he keeps on reaching for his nails to chew on them, his other hand nervously rolling a certain patch of the hem of his shirt over and over again between his index finger and his thumb.
almost suddenly, he quits with the pacing. he stands there still in the middle of your room, his back towards you. he quits with the fidgeting too, his both hands now resting on his sides, the blood on his knuckles now starting to dry up, and you can see how subtly he is flexing his fingers.
a moment of silence passes over you two. you take in a deep breath and it lodges in your throat as you start to take small, silent steps to him. you stand behind him, so close that with a soft nudge to the back of your head, your nose will press into his back. slowly, you bring your hand up, and as if he’s the most delicate porcelain doll on this planet, you place your hand on his back.
his back immediately flexes, and you hear him take a sharp intake of breath. your hand doesn’t move, your fingertips just gently pressing into the cotton of his shirt. a moment passes over you two in complete silence, and when rafe doesn’t say anything to you, you take it as a small sign and press your fingers firmer into his back.
you start to softly glide your fingertips over his back in an up and down periodic motion, and you hear rafe letting out a strangled exhale. your eyes flicker over his shoulders and you see them relax ever so subtly, the tense posture of them slowly withering away.
you continue with the soft motions of your fingers and rest your forehead against his shoulder blade, taking in a deep breath. your other hand curls around his fingers and you ever so carefully intertwine your fingers with his, not caring if any blood from his hand gets onto yours.
“rafe…” you whisper into the still air of your room. your voice reverberates in rafe’s ears, and he lets out a soft hum.
“turn around please…” you murmur, your thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand. he obliges, slowly turning around and you lift your head up from his shoulder blade. he looks in your eyes through his own bloodshot ones, and at that moment you know you’ve never seen anything more heartbreaking than tears in rafe’s eyes.
you hook your arms around his neck and pull him into a warm embrace. for the first few seconds, rafe is stiff. really stiff. it’s almost like he doesn’t know what to do. but you know you’re supposed to give it time. you gave it time and he was okay with you softly rubbing his back, he’s going to be okay with this too.
and okay he is.
his arms wrap around your waist and his face buries into your neck. his grip tightens, as if he’s afraid he’ll let go and you will disappear into thin air. he lets out deep, shaky exhales against the skin of your neck, as if trying so desperately hard to keep himself in control.
“i’m here for you…” you whisper softly, your fingers playing gently with the soft hair on the nape of his neck.
those words… those simple words seem to set off something in him nothing ever has.
tears start streaming down his eyes, and this time, he doesn’t let them restrict in any way possible. he lets the tears fall, years and years of anxiety, the pain of not being enough, the tiredness of working too hard to prove himself all falling down to this exact moment; the moment where he lets his walls crumble down.
sobs erupt out from his dry throat and he slowly slides down on his knees in front of you, his arms wrapped tightly around your hips as he nuzzles his face into your stomach, crying his eyes out into the fabric of your shirt.
you feel your heart ache at the sight, him hanging onto you so desperately, and you try to comfort him by threading your fingers through the silky strands of his hair.
it’s as if you can see the remains of his crumbled walls around his knees. you can see how he’s completely let himself go, how he’s letting his most vulnerable state come out, how he’s trusting you deeply.
now it’s up to you and only you to help him clear the rubble of the old walls and build new ones, ones which allow him to trust and be trusted, ones which allow him to love and be loved, ones which allow him to appreciate and be appreciated.
— —
I’m trying my hardest to get back into a proper writing flow, so for now, I hope you enjoy this blurb <3 this is something I’ve been wanting to write for quite some time 💗
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