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blackynsupremacy · 19 days ago

Text

THERE’S SOMETHING

ABOUT YOU.

CHAPTER 4

pairing: smallville!clark kent x black!fem!oc

fandom: smallville (2001-2011)

guest starring: aaliyah haughton as lyric james

also starring:

michael rosenbaum as lex luthor

emmanuelle vaugier as dr. helen bryce

rick gonzales as omar reyes

bianca lawson as trina davis

summary: ever since lana lang has moved in with the sullivan’s, clark kent’s nightly telescopic views of the galaxy and daily glimpse of the sunrise tend to get lonelier. that is until a moving truck, a wandering amicable feline, and her frustrated owner, lyric james, makes her debut in his life as her family are the new owners of the old potter house next door. things between the new neighbors start to shift as clark is tasked as her personal tour guide at her new school. one little slip is all it takes for her to learn he’s more than meets the eye in this small town.

taglist: @sabrinasopposite @camiesully @zombigrlll @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @afrogirl3005 @afrowrites @elitesanjisimp @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @gxuxhdjdu @tryingtograspctrl @xoxoglittergossip @hnch33rios @paisholotus

contains: lots of words, friends to neighbors, use of gifs for visuals, tooth rotting fluff, long flashback, really heavy angst, heartbreak, emotional cheating, mention of death, depression, anger, lyric and clark getting closer, mild swearing, cute moments, slow burn, main audience is black readers but everyone is welcome. lyric’s thoughts. clark’s thoughts. chloe’s thoughts.

PLEASE READ: CHAPTER 3

the golden afternoon sunlight shown down on lyric nd clark’s faces as they waited for chloe to arrive. they were outside of the barn and clark wanted to kill time by shooting some hoops while lyric sat on the side to observe. as she saw him jog and dribble the basketball to shoot it perfectly into the net, she realized that clark had a very athletic build. she could see it in his arms, legs, and best of all, his torso and chest. lyric broke her stare and chided herself for such thoughts, but one had to be a fool to not think clark as tall, dark, and handsome by any means. he also had the proficient athletic skills, and almost perfect academic standing, but he never mentioned anything about being on one of smallville high’s several athletic programs. no football, no basketball, not anything. it just seemed like a waste of talent when she saw the ball flawlessly glide through the net once again.

“you sure know how to hoop, clark!” lyric complimented with a slow nod of approval. even though clark was a little exasperated, his smile couldn’t resist the girl’s praises.

“gee, thanks, lyric! i can’t take all of the credit. i learned mostly from pete’s older brothers and they told me it’s all about technique.”

“you never fail to be modest. that’s got me thinkin’— do you play any sports at school? you never mentioned it, but it’s impossible because you got the skill, you got the grades, and you sure as hell have the looks for it!” she enthusiastically hyped, gesturing her hand towards his six foot frame. for some reason, clark’s face got heated. his cheeks flutter with a hue of red. he wasn’t so used to friends of the opposite sex speak so fondly of his appearance. calm down, dude, it’s just a compliment. take it with a grain of salt. he clears his throat and shyly wipes the sweat off his brow with his forearm.

“well, i do want to play football. i’ve tried it once earlier, but things didn’t quite work out with the coach. he had some—anger issues among other shady things that my parents weren’t exactly comfortable with. hopefully, i can give it another shot down the road while we’re still in high school. maybe if i’m good enough, i could make the quarterback spot.”

clark said as he bounced the ball and stepped towards where lyric was standing. he could remember it like it was yesterday. he joined the smallville high crows football team after so many attempts to convince his parents to at least let him try out. they only forbade it due to the risk of clark’s powers being exposed, but he’d figured he’d have a handle on them by now, and it was an activity that made him feel like a normal teen. it was all fun and games until the head coach was caught helping his players cheat on tests, so they could play. when the principal got word of it and set out the proper consequences for the coach, things got heated…literally. clark spared lyric the details because she was already so curious about the wall of weird and the last thing she needed was for her to feel like she wasn’t safe in this supposed quiet small town.

“oh. well, that’s too bad, but when you do, i’ll be rooting for you from the stands! you’d have a pretty good shot at it. i’m more of a basketball fan, but i guess i can make the exception.” they both fill the air with light laughter and their conversation comes to a halt at the sound of a tooting horn. a vibrant, red volkswagen beetle swiftly pulls up in front of the barn. the driver’s side window rolls down to reveal a smiling chloe behind the wheel and pete seated comfortably in the passenger.

“hey, you guys! are you geared up for the most exhilarating studying session of your entire lives?” chloe wittingly questions as pete chuckles and shakes his head before chiming in,

“you can always count on chloe to call a regular old studying session ‘exhilarating’. ”

“hey! in my defense, wherever there’s coffee, i might as well do what i do with caffeine in my veins.”

clark and lyric give each other a knowing glance, a glint of humor within their eyes before they make their way closer to the car. clark leans against the driver side with his arm propped up against the top. his piercing blue eyes meets chloe’s gaze with a charm that she knew too well and loved too much.

“exhilarating, huh? it sounds to me like you’re putting that vocabulary list from english to good use, chloe.” clark commented with a lopsided smirk.

“well, if i’m ever going to make it big at the daily planet as a journalist, i’d better possess some type of flawless vocabulary, clark.” the blonde retorts and leans her head over to the side to spot lyric and greet her.

“hey, lyric! you can hop in and sit in the front with me, so we can have some girl talk on the way to town.”

lyric received the offer with a grin, but shook her head to politely decline. she saw that pete was there first and didn’t want to be rude by putting him out of his seat.

“i appreciate it, chloe, but i don’t wanna take pete—“

“oh, nonsense. he’ll be fine! he can just sit in the back with clark. it’s my car after all.” chloe urges by cutting her green eyes to the boy beside her, signaling him to move to the back. pete doesn’t protest. he gathers his bag and meets with clark in the right backseat as lyric meets with chloe in the passenger seat. the teens all buckle up their seatbelts and chloe pulls off onto the dusty path out of the neighborhood to journey to downtown smallville. during the ride, chloe’s natural inquisitiveness takes over when asking general questions about the new girl next door in her passenger seat. the boys casually sit in the back quietly to observe the conversation.

“so, lyric, where you do hail from?”

“new york. brooklyn, to be exact.”

“ah, another fellow city girl. i’m from metropolis which isn’t too far from smallville, but new york to smallville is quite a stretch. is there a specific reason why?” lyric purses her lips at the question and swallows to easily get past without dwelling too much on the reason.

“my family just wanted a new scene. someplace…quiet and peaceful.” her soft voice drifts as she gazes at the lengthy path of cornfields at the side of the road.

“that’s valid. um, so what do you like to do?”

“nothing too extreme. i like to listen to vinyls, chill with my cat, and i take some pictures here and there.”

“aw, a cat! what’s their name? if my dad didn’t have such a fatal allergy, i’d love to have a furry friend.” chloe enthusiastically coos passing the sign that indicated that they were entering downtown smallville.

“her name is noir. she’s a black cat that looks like she could do no wrong, but it’s a whole ‘nother story. don’t get me wrong, i love her with all my heart, but she’s so damn sneaky sometimes that she’s almost sent me into a nervous breakdown. i’ll say if it weren’t for her, i wouldn’t have met clark though, so i guess there’s a light at the end of that tunnel.” chloe presses further to her details of the day.

pete tuned in as well to hear lyric recount that hectic morning. chloe picked up on lyric’s tone. chloe liked to her the girl beside her talk. her voice was smooth, soft, and gentle like rain to the ear. she can hear the frustration of when lyric discovered that noir was missing in a new area shift to that of ease and resolution when she discovered a well fed and content noir in the arms of the noble farm boy next door. pete turned from lyric’s direction to momentarily glance at clark as she spoke. he witnessed the sky blue pupils of his best friend attentively focus on lyric as if he were hearing this story for the first time. there was a certain positive emotion that rested on his face, he even chimed in his own perspective and a little inside joke causing the duo to dissolve into laughter. pete saw that was usually new. when clark talked to girls, he’d be a bit guarded, but friendly enough, but from what he saw between clark and lyric just now, clark looked to be so at ease, so at liberty.

once the volume of the chatter diminished to a peaceful silence, lyric’s deep, brunette pupils wandered at the sights of the many local owned establishments this quaint city had to offer. there was quite a few people out enjoying the serene, golden afternoon as they strolled with their pets and families on the sidewalk. clark, pete, and chloe were kind enough to point out some key areas that were worth exploring for when lyric was ready to take that new step. they passed an array of shops, boutiques, restaurants, and community centers, but lyric had one burning question.

“these all seem really cool, ya’ll, but does smallville have a music store? i got a whole collection to keep up with at home.” lyric inquires with expectant glance towards the trio. pete immediately knew the answer as he and his family had lived in smallville for ages.

“i know one that’s not too far from here. i think it’s called main street melody. i believe from the talon it’s just down two blocks and it’s a cool place. i’ve been there a couple times for some mixtapes. we should go check it out after we study if you’re up for it.” pete stated scooting his body forward from the backseat to the middle, positioning himself with his elbows on the console between the girls.

“yeah! i’d like to see what they got. i really appreciate that, pete. you’re a real one.” lyric’s eyes locked with his and she flashed a congenial dimpled smile of gratitude to which pete took it with a tingling sensation in his stomach and a bashful grin of his own, his chestnut toned face heated slightly.

“i-it’s, uh, it’s no problem, lyric. i’m glad to be of some help.” he lets out a stammering chuckle and scoots to the backseat. a dazed, delighted look was etched on his face. he didn’t even notice that clark examined him with an arched brow and tilted head. guess i’m not the only one. clark thought to himself. chloe was listening to the conversation unfold, she chuckled after witnessing pete’s reaction to lyric’s natural beauty and charm. for a city girl, she had that small town girl-next-door charisma down to a tee.

“ask her out, why don’t you!” chloe snickered and slowed the car down to precisely parallel park in front of a building. like smallville high, it possessed the color palette of red, gold, and black. it resembled one of those classic movie theaters from the seventies and there was a large, neon sign that displayed the word, TALON, vertically letter-by-letter in gold lettering. lyric found it to be aesthetically pleasing in an old-fashioned sort of way.

“chloe!” the guys whine in sync at chloe’s forwardness, not wanting to be put out there in front of lyric. clark knew that chloe was directly talking to pete, but he still felt like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. lyric chortled, shaking her head and playfully rolling her eyes at chloe as the girls unbuckled their seatbelts.

“come on, chlo’, don’t bug him like that! it probably didn’t mean anything. leave them alone!” she joked and leaned down to grab her belongings and passed over chloe’s bag for her to receive.

chloe shrugged her shoulders, pursing her pink glossed lips.

“i admire your modesty, lyric, but i’ve been around them long enough to know when a guy is completely smitten. you should ask clark when it comes to lana lang.”

clark’s eyes cut to chloe in annoyance with a deadpanned expression. despite chloe trying to humor lyric, there was a hint of envy underneath her lighthearted tone.

“girl, i already know! i mean, lana seems nice and she’s gorgeous, but you are too! who wouldn’t want to be looked at like that? it’s an exciting feeling—it’s an experience to appreciate while you still got it…don’t trip on pete and clark so much. they’re good guys.” she compliments with a glance towards the backseat and proceeds to gather her belongings, exit the car, and wait for the others to follow suit. clark walked passed lyric, chloe, and pete to hold the door open for all of them to enter to the crowded hangout. once she stepped in, lyric was amazed with the turnout of this place. she noticed that the main population were teens and young adults, but there were good bit of older patrons as well. the interior was setup like any lounge of a modern coffee shop with individual tables that were scattered throughout the room. the decor was set to look like the royal palaces and chambers of ancient egypt, the walls and pillars were engraved with hieroglyphics. there were lights that were strung along giving the room such a faint ambient glow. the warmness of the luxurious golds and yellows mingled with the cool, sophisticated regalia of the blues and violets. the talon was so immense that it had a stairway and so much more that lyric wanted to gawk at before chloe grabbed her wrist to leave the boys behind to grab a table and lead her to the counter. it was there where she saw lana lang preparing a drink order by maneuvering the large, chrome coffee machine. when the girls made it to the counter, chloe’s bubbly voice caused lana to stop what she’s doing and welcome them with an award winning smile.

“hey, you guys! lyric, i’m so glad you’ve came. welcome to the talon. so, what do you think of the place so far?” lana questioned with her hands to gesture at the lounge.

“thank you, lana! i love the setup, the theme, and it’s huge! no wonder why it’s so jumpin’ here. it looks like one of those old movie theaters from the outside.” lyric compliments which lana graciously accepted before she gives lyric the run down on how the talon was in fact a movie theater where her late parents met. she’d quit cheerleading causing her to fight tooth and nail against her aunt’s expectations of her high school career and to keep the place open by converting it to a coffee shop and movie theater after partnering with lex luthor. ever since then, the talon has been thriving more than ever.

“if it weren’t for lex, this place would’ve been a distant memory.” chloe stated, her eyes perusing the scene laid out in front of them. lana solemnly nodded in agreement.

lex luthor. where did lyric hear that name before? right, at dinner with the kents. it was the rich guy that clark saved and they’ve good been friends since then. i don’t remember much about what he’d look like, but he’ll most likely stand out from the rest of the citizens of smallville for sure. lyric sympathetically nods, lending lana her congratulations and condolences while still feeling curious.

“i’m so sorry for your loss, lana. they would be so happy that you did this to keep their memory alive. i respect you for that!”

“thank you, lyric, would i be more worthy of your respect when you get your first free coffee?”

the girls briefly giggle and lyric decided to play it safe by requesting a regular cappuccino. chloe ordered the usual for her and the guys before they both walk to find clark and pete at a corner table, with their books and papers all set out for the academic cramming to begin. one empty seat was to clark’s left and the other, to pete’s right. as the girls approached them, lyric lightened the mood at the sight of the boys’ serious, focused attention on the assignments.

“did we keep ya’ll waiting that long that you’ve already started the assignment that’s due next week?” lyric joked, sharing a chuckle with chloe when clark and pete’s head’s simultaneously peer up at the sound of her voice. chloe gestured to the empty seats,

“we’ve already ordered the study fuel, by the way. mind if we sit?”

“no, not at all. here, lyric. you can take this one.” clark offers after putting his book down on the table. he stands up to pull out the empty chair next to him for her to sit. lyric felt that familiar fluttering within her stomach as she came closer to the table to sit down next to clark. girl, calm down. he’s just being a gentleman, it’s not like he’s never pulled a chair out for you before. once she was scooted in and comfortable, she thank him with a smile of gratitude and rummaged through her backpack to find the unfinished assignments she had to complete. chloe took the seat next to pete and she couldn’t help, but feel a bit—slighted. don’t get her wrong, as much as she loved clark (more than) platonically, she was unfortunately living with the reality that he would never reciprocate those feelings for the sake of their friendship and his own feelings for lana. although, she’d never seen him move so quick to have a girl next to him besides…lana. especially not a girl he’d just met a couple days ago. chloe pondered if it was just the effect of that house. god, what’s in the water there? clark nip? her train of thought halted at the sound of an annoyed ground.

“mmcht! don’t tell me that i— ugh, where’s it at!” lyric hissed as she frantically searched through her bag with a confused, yet frustrated expression.

“what’s the matter, lyric?” clark asked with inquiring, blue eyes.

“i think i left the monte cristo book at home. it’s only my first assignment and the last thing i need is to be behind even more. ugh!” she huffs and assertively zips the bag closed after gathering everything else.

“here, we can use mine. i haven’t quite finished reading yet, so we’re gonna have to split it.”

“that’s really cool of you, clark, but are you sure—“

“lyric, i insist. that’s what good neighbors neighbors are for, right?” he questioned with his amicable gaze locked with hers, flashing that cheeky, pearly white smile that she knew so well, but for so little. her face heated with a nervous grin and chuckle. to keep herself composed and promptly get the assignment done, she didn’t choose to argue.

“if you’re gonna put it that way, clark, i might as well. hell, it’s not like i got a choice. thank you—again.” she concedes and opens her notebook before scooting a little closer to clark to steal a decent glance of the text.

“it’s always my pleasure, lyric.” he softly responds with a lingering grin before filling her in on the chapter they’re supposed to report on.

as they silently read and briefly gave each other’s analysis of a phrase, clark’s attentive gaze focused on her as she spoke, but his nostrils naturally inhaled the scent of the sweet fresh, natural scent of cocoa butter mixed with hints of vanilla and coconut. it was such a pleasant aroma that complimented the smell of brewing coffee. clark was so caught up, that he didn’t even notice lex luthor waltz in the door with his fiancée, dr. helen bryce, traveling closely by his side with their fingers intertwined. the luthor’s eyes darted from table to table to find his good friend with his usual circle. to his avail, he found them at their table in the corner. there was also another person he hadn’t seen before and she was sitting awfully close to clark while chatting and taking notes. lex found it odd to see clark in such a position with a girl besides lana. with burning curiosity, he lets helen know that he’s going to speak to clark momentarily while she can use his card to get them some coffee and pastries. helen agreed, as she wanted to minimize any interaction with the farm boy knowing what she knows, but she’ll civilly swing by after she handles business at the counter, so they go their separate ways.

“long time, no see, clark.” lex says as he strides to the table of the four preoccupied teens that shift their attention to him. clark receives lex with an amicable smile and immediately greets him back,

“hey, lex! it’s good to see you out of the shadows of the mansion. how’re things going with you and dr. bryce?”

lex casually grins while stuffing his hands in the pockets of his tailored pants.

“not too bad. we both had a bit of a catastrophe of a work day, so we decided to unwind with some coffee and sweets. i hope i’m not interrupting important, you seem to be preoccupied—with your studies.”

“oh, no, not at all. let me guess, you and mr. luthor had another falling out?”

lex confirms with a silent, tight lipped nod. his inquisitive eyes shift to lyric who returned her own curious stare.

“i guess i left my manners with my father back at the mansion. it’s nice to meet you, my name is lex luthor, ceo of luthorcorp , and you must be…?” he pauses, leading her to answer,

“i’m not trippin’ over it. i’m lyric. lyric james. my family and i just moved here from new york on saturday. i’m also clark’s new next-door neighbor and i’ve heard so much about you, mr. luthor.” she cordially regards, knowing this man was definitely not in high school. he holds his hand out for her to grasp and shake briefly before pulling their hands away.

“all bad, i suppose and please, call me lex. my father, lionel, should be referred as such.”

“no, sir, mr—lex. not from the way clark talks a good deal about you. i won’t front, i’ve heard some bad, but i can’t be the one to judge too quick because i don’t know you like you don’t know me. you must be lucky to have a friend like clark to save your life.”

“when you say it out, lyric, i couldn’t agree more with you. i’m always grateful for him and the kent’s. perhaps one day, you’ll see what i mean.”

lex received her statement with a warm smile upon his face. whoever this james girl was in clark’s circle, didn’t know him from a can of paint and still gave him a fighting chance without the use of a bribe, blackmail, nor smalltown gossip. he could see why the farm boy had a bit of a entranced look on his face towards her when he walked in. there was definitely something about her that was more than more than outer beauty. lex all of people would know.

as lyric and lex finished their conversation, she didn’t notice a blushing clark that hastily averted his gaze from her to his book, but she did see a beautiful young woman saunter from across the room and stop to stand closely beside lex. she possessed long brown hair, round brown eyes with long lashes, and full pink lips. by the way she stood so close to lex, lyric could obviously tell they were romantically involved.

“lex, they didn’t have the maple scones today, so i just got us some danishes and our usual drink order.” the woman said, handing him the pastry and a cup of coffee which he gratefully received by kissing her on the cheek. she pulls her blushing face from his lips and amicably greets the group before her,

“hello! i hope you all are doing well. chloe, pete—clark, and i’m sorry, i don’t believe i’ve seen you before. my name is dr. helen bryce i work at the local hospital here in smallville. who might you be?” she inquired with her amber gaze pointed to lyric. lex helped to save the girl’s breath by giving helen the introduction.

“thank you, helen. this is lyric james, she’s the kent’s new next door neighbor. her family had just moved to smallville from new york a few days ago.”

helen squinted and registered the familiar surname before the lightbulb of realization came on,

“ah, right! when i heard “james”, i had a hunch it was you. i know your mother, crystal, she’s one of the newest nurses on my team. even though she just started, i can tell she’s a very dedicated woman to the profession. she’s mentioned that she had a daughter attend smallville high and here she is. it’s so nice to finally meet you, lyric.”

“likewise! thank you, dr. bryce for the kind words about my mom. it was great to meet you both!”

lex and helen bid the group a farewell and took their exit of the establishment. lyric beamed at the praise about her mother. it made her feel a twinge of guilt when she felt an ounce of resentment towards her parents for working so many hours of their demanding careers, but it warmed her heart at the knowledge that they made a difference, no matter where they went. hopefully, she’ll be able to live up to that expectation. two hours of studying pass by and the sun was beginning to set. chloe, clark, pete, and lyric are ready to throw in the towel and start packing up to go home. lyric wanted to check out the main street melody store, but one, she was already exhausted and two, she had a ride that she wouldn’t dare to keep waiting. she’d see it again another day.

one by one, chloe drops off her friends and wishes them a goodnight. once they made their stop in front of kent farm, chloe doesn’t leave without lyric spotting her a ten for gas. clark spectated as the girls playfully argue for two minutes because chloe kept refusing and lyric kept insisting. given her order was free, she didn’t have to spend anything and she wanted to return the favor. chloe finally conceded, took the money with gratitude, and pulled off, leaving lyric and clark alone again in front of his house. the quiet silence was filled with the sound of chirping crickets and the steady footsteps of lyric and clark as he walked her home. as they approached the james house, the driveway was bare and most of the lights were off. it appeared that her parents were still at work. clark didn’t feel right with her staying all alone in the house. outside of the light snack and coffee, he wasn’t certain if she had dinner. not to mention, the welfare of her black cat that he’s grown attached to. they stood on the large, round porch at the front door. lyric searched her bag to retrieve the entrusted house key. when she reached to turn the lock, the touch of a hand on her shoulder caused her to stop and turn around.

“what’s up, clark?”

“lyric, i think it would be safer for you and noir if you guys stayed at my house until your folks get home. at the end of the day, it’s your decision, but if you come over, you can try to call your parents and let them know. if not, just reach out if you need anything.”

lyric pondered on the farm boy’s offer with pursed lips. she was so used to this back home and it was quiet around here, so what could possibly go wrong? or so she thought, what if one those people infected by meteor rocks happened to stumble on what seemed to be an empty house with an unsuspecting teenager and her vulnerable feline sleeping peacefully? with a careful review of clark’s perspective and a deep sigh, her mind was made up.

“if it’s cool with mr. and mrs. kent, i’ll leave my parents a message, scoop noir, and we’ll be there. i didn’t want to intrude because i’ve done this before. i—“ she was cut off when a rumbling sound erupted from her abdomen. the two were dead silent for two seconds before clark broke it,

“i guess you wouldn’t mind intruding for dinner and you do know that you’re always welcome, right? judging by the sound of your stomach, it looks like you wanted to come over anyway.” he teased with a lopsided smirk.

“not too much on me, clark.” she playfully chided with her finger pointed in his direction. their laughter fills the air as she unlocks the door and she invites him to follow her inside. it didn’t take long to hear that familiar mewling sound and the soft jingling of a collar. noir cuddled herself against her owner’s ankle to receive loving pets upon her furry head, chin, and spine. when the cat spotted clark, she stood on her hind legs, tiny paws pressing against his jeans. clark took his cue to scoop her in his arms and gently hold her while lyric stood and watched in awe. she won’t lie, she loved how trusting noir was with clark. it made the butterflies in her arise when he saw this gentle giant of a farm boy cradle noir like that was his child. to keep herself down from cloud nine, she had another idea.

“hey, you want to listen to some records after dinner? that’s only if you want, we can just come back here and chill. it’s no pressure, if you’re tired i’d un—“

“lyric.”

“yeah, clark?”

“were you ever going to give me the chance to say ‘yes’?”

he grins, softly bouncing noir in his arms. she releases a faux gasp and playfully whacks him in the forearm, causing him to dissolve in laughter.

“i—clark kent! don’t mess with me right now, i know i talk a lot, but it’s been a long day. there’s nothing wrong with valuing other people’s time.” his gaze softened as he watched her take a piece of hair from that fell in her face to behind her ear.

“okay, okay. i’m sorry for teasing and thank you, i respect you for that. i’d love to come over to hear some records. it’s about time i’d expand my musical horizons. just like how you explored a literal horizon with your camera.”

“you’ve got a way with words, clark. now i can definitely see you being a journalist now. it’s a deal. you give me early morning sunrises and i’ll give you late night jam sessions, ya dig?”

he gives a nod of approval and lends lyric the chance to use her landline to call both her parent’s work extensions. crystal didn’t pick up, so she left a message. fortunately, joseph answered and gave his approval, but sternly teased lyric for her and clark to listen to records with her door open, whether he or crystal were home or not. the james girl concludes the conversation before her and clark proceed to take the familiar path to kent farm where she and noir were warmly received by jonathan and martha. they spent the next hour and a half indulging in the hot meal that was meticulously prepared and they were going around the table to share how their days went. even noir was content in the tuna and milk that was prepared for her by martha. when all were fed and the kitchen was tidy, the teens return back to the james house where lyric leads clark upstairs to her bedroom.

“welcome to my crib!” she exaggerates with wide arms as they enter and he chuckles at her quip. even with the new posters, furniture, and arrangements, clark knew that this was lana’s old room. he’d only really caught a glimpse of it through his telescope or within his odd dreams concerning his powers, but actually stepping foot inside felt so surreal. his blue eyes peruse to various spaces like to her bed, vanity, closet, and the overall setting that made the room reflect lyric of who she was. this was now her home, her room, and her space, so clark had to make peace with the fact that the past was in the past. it’s time to live in the now.

she led him to take a seat on her plush, lavender rug. while playing with noir in his lap, she walks a few feet away and squats to the record player to routinely adjust it to the proper settings. they endure a comfortable silence as lyric places the vinyl from stevie wonder’s 1971 album “where i’m coming from” on the turntable after scavenging through her growing collection.

her fingers gingerly lift the head-shell to delicately place the needle on the vinyl. as it starts to spin, the soft, soulful notes of “never dream you’d leave in summer” began to fill the room, lyric found herself lost in the music, her ebony gaze shifted to the window where the sky had transformed from a warm gold to the deep, dark shade of her cat’s coat. the melancholy melody solemnly filled her senses as the memories of him start to flood back like restless waves in the ocean. the song crooned, and lyric felt that painful lump form in her throat and the heaviness weigh in her chest. the memories all flash back within her brain —images of laughter, love, warmth, and the sharp sting of loss and betrayal that she thought was left in brooklyn still seemed to follow her no matter what she did , where she went, or who she talked to, lyric can’t forget about him. she glanced at clark who immediately met her gaze. his defined features softened by the dim amber light of her lamp. as his eyes were starting to paint the image of concern, she pondered on how long she could keep her inner turmoil a secret any longer. besides her parents, he was the only one who picked up on her sadness during the sunrise.

she realized that as the music played on, it was like a bittersweet reminder of everything she had faced back in her hometown. her bedroom suddenly felt charged with an energy that gave her the courage to speak, to finally share the real reason that why the james family would move all the way to smallville, kansas. after taking a drawn out breath, she turned her whole body to him, her lips slightly agape before she breaks the silence,

“clark, do you remember this morning when i was acting a little funny when it came to taking those pictures?— i tried so hard to play it off like it didn’t bother me of why i stopped, but if i’m going to live in the present, i need to let the past of my chest. if we’re going to be friends, the least we can do is be honest with each other, right?”

clark slowly nods and he could hear her heart racing. he sensed there was an urgency, she was scared, but of what? of who? he had hoped to the stars that it wasn’t of him. did he slip up and then perhaps she saw him use one of his powers? neither the matter, his concern was growing and he placed his hands on top of hers.

“lyric, you can tell me anything. i’m so glad that you could trust me enough to do that. just know that i’m here for you. i’m listening.” with a nod of his head, the look in his encourages her to take the time she needed.

she took one last deep, deep breath. she closed eyes her briefly to gather the millions of thoughts she had into one story.

“back in new york…i had a best friend. he became my first love then he became my worst enemy, and he’s long gone, but clark, i can’t let him go… his name was omar.”

BROOKLYN, NY 2000-2001

omar reyes was lyric james’ childhood best friend back in new york and her first love. he was a sweet boy that lived a decent childhood until his parents divorced and his dad had full custody of him after his mother moved away. to keep himself busy, omar decided to play basketball all throughout elementary and middle school. he’d study more often to make his parents proud and boy, were his grades were top tier. in the midst of that studying, he grew fond of science and anatomy, but his mind was already made up that he wanted to be a professional NBA player or a coach like his father after college. lyric could remember when he was just practicing shooting hoops on the street after the older kids excluded him for being too short to play and even though she didn’t have a deep knowledge of the sport, she learned to love it as she supported him. lyric pushed omar to show those bullies he that was capable of exceeding anyone’s expectations. the bond between him and lyric was unbreakable. omar was the one that gifted lyric with the hoops that she oddly still adorns to this day, they had their first kiss on her thirteenth h birthday, and when they turned fourteen, omar confessed his feelings and officially asked lyric to be his girlfriend to which she immediately accepted and the bliss of young love took its course in their lives.

he was a great first boyfriend for lyric. loyal, kind, affectionate, attentive, and humorous. her parents enjoyed his company, but things took a turn when they entered high school and not for the better.

omar seemed kind of…off.

he seemed to appear to be thinner and more fatigued than usual, but he just dismissed it as stress from school, sports, and life in general. while practicing in the gym, he had a hard fall that resulted in so many bruises on his body that he had to quit basketball indefinitely, so the school wouldn’t be held liable. it all came to a head at the beginning of freshman year when he was tutoring lyric at her place while crystal happened to be home preparing dinner. everything was fine until omar stood up to go to use the restroom and then he harshly collapsed to the floor after taking one step, rendering him unconscious. crystal urgently called the paramedics and his father to get him to the er. after the doctor ran some tests, omar was diagnosed with stage two leukemia and had to start treatment right away. lyric didn’t hesitate to stay by his side and visit the hospital as much as she could for the strength her boyfriend, herself, and their relationship. lyric hoped and believed that the treatment he was receiving would be the light at the end of the tunnel and everything would return to normal, right? wrong.

it all changed so drastically as the condition worsened from stage two to stage four. omar had to be sent to duke hospital for treatment. duke hospital was in durham, north carolina—which was almost five-hundred miles away. omar and lyric decided to make a long distance relationship work by writing letters and talking on the phone when they were both available. lyric and omar consistently corresponded with each other those first few weeks. well—mostly lyric, but she understood because he needed to focus on getting well and the best she could do was stick by him like a loyal girlfriend, right? she added in something special to each letter, a developed photo that she snapped with her camera. each photo possessed the inspiration that captured the essence of their home and memories.

days turn to weeks, and weeks into months with no update from neither omar nor his parents. lyric grew weary, a bitter vile feeling within the pit of her stomach. something wasn’t right. one day, she came home after school and she was baffled to see both of her parents were home, sitting in the living room. they tell her to sit down in order to relay the message from the reyes family: omar lost his battle and he was gone. lyric was so in shock that her parents voices faded out, so she couldn’t even register the details of a funeral, a wake, or a cremation. seven days of mourning passed and the event of the funeral arrived. clad in all black with dark loc shades, lyric was cold and numb, but at the urging of omar’s family, she was permitted to say heartfelt remarks about the deceased. how could she explain a lifelong bond within two to three minutes? she looked at some familiar and unfamiliar faces in the crowd as she recounted her times with boyfriend—well, ex-boyfriend. by the time she was done, the tears silently rolled down her cheeks and her mother consoled her through the entirety of the service. everyone in attendance came back to reyes’ home to eat, give their condolences, and chat about the mundane. lyric was seated on the sofa and just stared at the minimal portion of food on her plate. she’d rarely had an appetite during the time of her bereavement. her state of disassociation was paused when an unfamiliar, high pitched female voice breaks her out from her solitude.

“so i guess you must be lyric, huh?” the james girl gazed at the other teenaged girl in front of her. she was a few inches shorter. although heartache painted her face, she had striking features that consisted of tawny brown skin, deep almond shaped eyes, high cheek bones, and full lips.

“is this seat taken?” the girl asked to which lyric shook her head side to side, giving her the cue to sit. the girls sit in an awkward silence for about two minutes and the latter began to speak,

“i already know your name, so it’s only fair that you know mine— i’m trina davis. um, my mom and i came up from north carolina to say our final goodbyes. she was actually the lead nurse that helped with omar’s cancer treatment at duke.”

“it’s nice to meet you, trina. how long are you in town for?” lyric inquired.

“likewise! we’ll be flying back the day after tomorrow—lyric, may i ask you a question?”

lyric deliberately nods and placed the untouched plate from her lap onto the coffee table. she turned her body to trina, awaiting the question.

“i don’t want to pry, but i’m gonna try to make this make sense as much as possible. so—i’ve heard in your speech that you were omar’s girlfriend, how long have you guys been together?”

“well we made it official this past july. he got diagnosed in september, went to duke in october, and now it’s february, so a good six months, if my math is on point.” she dryly chuckled.

“why?” lyric quizzed and her eyes caught onto trina’s dumbfounded expression. lyric noticed the gulp that ran down the girl’s neck as her jaw clenched.

“you know how i said that my mom was the lead nurse for him, right?”

lyric nodded again to lend the girl a listening ear. trina began to explain how her mother had inspired her to work in the field of caring for cancer patients, so she decided to do volunteer work by reading to the patients and keeping them company, you know to get that experience. that was when she met omar in mid october. she would read titles such as to kill a mockingbird or the count of monte cristo. omar expressed that he was looking forward to reading those books in his honors english class, but life happened. with her mother’s permission, the teens would sit in the hospital garden and chat beyond the analysis of the characters in the texts they’ve read. on a weekly basis, they’d converse about their pet peeves, hobbies, interests, music tastes, favorite movies, and anything under the sun really.

at the start of november, trina sat at omar’s bedside and he was dozing off. that was her cue to leave silently and she ran into a nurse who had an envelope with omar’s name on it in his hand. trina told the nurse that omar was sleeping and that she will place it on his bedside. the nurse gives the envelope to trina and took his leave as she examined the enclosed message. her natural nosiness wanted to know of the hand that inked her new friend’s name in blue with such skilled calligraphy. trina stopped herself from her the temptation to open it and sat it down beside him. the next week in the garden, she questioned omar about the letter. he then dismissed the value of the letter and that it was his from his “home girl lyric” from his hometown. to ease trina’s worries, he reassured her that would read it later that day.

omar received lyric’s letters frequently, but with the sickness that took toll on his body had hindered his correspondence. it wasn’t like omar didn’t cherish her letters and photographs that he received at first, but with each passing day his heart for their relationship grew more distant as he started to grow more tired of his condition and tired of his life. omar couldn’t sit in denial that he fought the good fight for long enough. at that point, he was ready to raise and wave the white flag in surrender, but he didn’t want to tell lyric anything. he didn’t want to cause her anymore heartbreak than he already had, so he just stopped responding all together. he had hoped that one day lyric would find it in her heart forgive him, whether he lived or not. trina unknowingly accepted the answer and reassures him that his friend would understand. she joked that if she was his girlfriend then there would be some suspicions, but if they’d agreed to make that work, then lyric would be a saint.

by thanksgiving, trina and omar grew closer in their emotional connection. even though trina enjoyed the day with her own family, she found it in her heart to urge her mother to drop by duke to at least deliver omar a light plate of her grandmother’s home style cooking, with his appetite willing. jovial at her mother’s approval, she was already up the elevator and knocked softly on omar’s door before she sauntered her way in with her offering. the teens faces beamed as they saw each other after a short time apart. trina placed the aluminum foil covered plate to reveal the basics such as turkey, dressing, mac n’ cheese, and potato salad. omar looked at it like it was first —or last meal. he told her he’d eat it tomorrow when his appetite allowed him and she put it to the side. the two made small talk before she attempted to leave the room only to feel a hand meekly grab onto hers.

“omar is everything ok—“ her sentence was cut short as her face collided with his chest and both of his arms encircled around her. trina was stunned at this.

“just stay with me…. i’m scared.”

he pleads for her presence and her heart grew heavy in sorrow as omar’s tears rain on her scalp, so stayed for a little bit longer. omar knew that he wouldn’t have much time left and he needed her to be by his side until then, so it didn’t take long for them to get emotionally involved through the holiday seasons until his untimely demise.

lyric sat there as her emotions internally wreaked havoc in her mind. she swallowed before she stuttered her words out.

“y-you’re telling me t-that you and omar were—

“yes.” trina somberly interrupted. “we were together until he died. he only called you his good friend, so i thought it was okay. i’m so sorry, lyric. i swear i didn’t know because he’d rarely talk about you after that.” trina’s voice started to crack and got higher in pitch as the tears rapidly streamed down her cheeks. she gazed down at the ground with such guilt and disappointment.

“god, i wish that my nosiness made me see the truth in that letter, but i respected him that much, so i didn’t. lyric, i’m—“

“it’s fine.” lyric cut her off.

“no—no, lyric, it’s not fine. we knew of his condition and he knew it was getting worse, but it doesn’t give him the right to fool us like that. especially not to you, i only knew him in his last moments and you, his whole life! if i were you i’d be—

“don’t tell me how i should feel, trina. i said it’s fine.” lyric sternly affirmed, her face stoic as her finger brushed a piece of hair from falling in front of her eye. she deeply sighed as her eyes looked up at the white ceiling, sliding her tongue across the front of her top teeth before resuming,

“you didn’t know, so i’m not mad at you, trina. i just wish i knew why he would do that and i know that i will never get my answer. not from you and definitely not from omar, so in that case, it’s fine.” lyric wraps her arm around trina’s shoulder to wish her the best when she travels back to north carolina and departed from her seat on the couch before fishing her parents out of the sea of visitors and informing them that she was ready to leave due to nausea. not exactly a lie, but a good excuse for the james family to leave quickly to their home.

to say that lyric was an emotional wreck was an understatement. for those next few weeks, her tears poured out until they ran dry and irritated her skin. she secluded herself within the four walls of her room, all day and all night unless she had to relieve herself. she didn’t care anymore. reassuring words didn’t fix this. sleeping for several hours didn’t fix this. toni braxton’s “unbreak my heart” on repeat certainly didn’t fix it. she closed herself off at school and floated by to at least pass the ninth grade, she didn’t want to celebrate her fifteenth birthday back in april, and the only ones she invited into her life were noir and the tunes on her record player.

her parents were worried that it was just more than omar’s death that caused their daughter to spiral into such a state and they made that decision to get her counseling when summer break began. in the first and second sessions, the therapist wanted to get to know lyric personally on her own with her parents waiting outside the door. by the third session, joseph and crystal were present in the room. lyric didn’t want to speak nor cooperate. she was surprised that she got out of the sanctuary of her bed and went in the car without putting up a fight. no matter how many questions they’ve asked or exercises they were trying to perform, she’d stay frozen like a guarded statue until she reached her boiling point when asked,

“tell me this, lyric—if omar were sitting in this room what would you say to him now?”

her brows furrowed and a scowl was painted on her face. every muscle tensed as the word vomit was about to explode all over the office at the mere thought of that boy—that coward.

“everything around here reminds me of you. i want to let you go because you hurt me. you hurt me and i don’t want to think about you, but i need answers! how the hell could you break my heart without me noticing until you were gone?!”

lyric rose to her feet and began to pace around, her dark eyes shifted to a corner where she could see a vision of him so vunerable as he laid in the hospital bed, with trina at his side. “i swear, omar, if you weren’t dead already, i’d kill your ass—why the hell would you agree to a long distance relationship when you knew it wouldn’t work, huh? if it wasn’t gonna work, why didn’t you hit me up or write me back? all i did was send you letters to tell you how much i loved and missed you, omar, but you just gave up—and you didn’t want to tell me, but you had the strength for somebody else. a girl you knew for a couple of months! wow. why? why, huh? WHY!?”

lyric confessed her plight to the therapist and her chest heaved as she collapsed with her head buried in her hands. her body was quivering as the hot tears flooded like water down her face. joseph and crystal quickly come to her aid. they had never seen their daughter be so enraged and emotionally inflicted. later that night, crystal and joseph had a private conversation, made some phone calls, and decided it was best to get lyric away from new york indefinitely.

SMALLVILLE, KANSAS 2002

“so, that’s why we really moved here. that’s how we ended up here in kansas. we had to get away and find a new scene, so that i couldn’t appear as the girl that went mad with grief, but clark i still have those moments where i feel so empty. i felt like i was left to hang alone.”

by the time she concluded her story, the intensity of stevie’s voice increases, lyric tears up a bit and her lips start to quiver. she takes a deep breath and averts her gaze up to the ceiling to bottle up what she couldn’t contain any longer. before she knew it, a pool of tears started to flow down the smooth, brown skin of her solemn face. clark clutched onto her hand to lightly squeeze it of reassurance.

“you’re not alone, lyric. i know what it’s like to lose someone and they’re the only ones who have the answers that you need. you feel that you miss them because…they’re the key to the truth and there’s nothing wrong about wanting to know the truth, no matter how life altering it could be. we just have to—oh!”

clark is interrupted when her arms are clutching to his torso and her face buried was near his middle.

“thank you—so much. all you’ve done has helped me since i came here. i can’t be grateful enough for you, clark.” her muffled, soft voice vibrated against his skin.

clark responded with one action that night: being there for her. he immediately wrapped his arms around her and let her sob her sorrows out until she dozed off to sleep with her head in his lap. noir sat by their side and observed the two as her tail softly swished across the floor. thankfully, lyric was a heavy sleeper. clark gingerly adjusted his body off the floor, so that he could carry her bridal style to gently lay her on the bed. he managed to tuck her in within the lavender duvet as he heard a car pull into the driveway and the sound of her parents call out to her. clark jogs downstairs to formally greet mr. and mrs. james. clark explains what went on that evening and that lyric was safely tucked in and asleep.

at first her parents were so worried that lyric would suffer from another breakdown when the omar situation was brought up, but they felt relief wash over them as they knew that clark was there every step of the way and that she was safe. they appraised him with their gratitude and offer for him to visit often. his family had made their family welcome and it was in due time to return the favor, especially for all of what the young kent has done for their daughter. clark bid the james family a goodnight and walked off of the porch before giving a final glance to lyric’s bedroom window. it was completely dark and his eyes of blue met with the yellow-green of noir’s. the feline was perched on the window sill.

“take good care of her for me, girl.” he said to the distant cat in a hushed tone before utilizing his super speed to get him home in a timely manner.

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matchamorphosis · 5 years ago

Text

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲

𝒃𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒊𝒄 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒅𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆. - 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆, 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐 + 𝒋𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒕

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Once Upon a Time in the shiny pearly gates of an elite residential community not long ago, lived our dear sweet [y/n] Beaudelaire. a revengeful Juliet, a woeful princess within the lavish parts of these aristocratic folk. what will happen when she meets again with her once Romeo now fiend in the lovely auspicious event of her graduation party? especially when she’s out for his head.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alternate universe AU tutor//counselor!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader + bryce langely × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || angst + smut

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 || 9.7K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || +18 nsfw, daddy!kink, student-tutor relationship, age gape: reader is twenty two and ari is thirty seven: don’t like, don’t read, dark elements, sexual past // intentions // flashbacks + mentions lose of virginity + future manipulation//blackmail + somewhat dark/upsetting content + alcohol mention + emotional denial

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || valley of the dolls by marina . teachers pet by melanie martinez . imagine by ariana grande

𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 || romeo + juliet ☆ 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓀𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑒𝒶𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝓉𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑒𝒹𝓎 𝓈𝑒𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓈 ☆

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || hello my dearests! chapter two will come soon! ♡ anyways, enjoy reading cherubs!

THE BRONZE BELLS RING BACK AND FORTH FROM THE TOWER ABOVE, MARKING THE HOUR OF FIVE O’CLOCK.

shuffling of waitresses and waiters bustle as they seamlessly welcome, seat and serve the arriving guests as they begin to enter the dining room. not breaking or huffing a single sweat as they carry the trays of prepared dishes while ice buckets of champagne and brandy dance around the golden framed accommodation.

patrons young and old in fine silks and tailored stitches of embroidery situate themselves on the seats at the lengthen dining table. the seating arrangements that were made don’t crowd the banquet hall too much yet still very much wide that you only see eye level with the many persons right and left of you.

sharp smiles and provoking laughter, along with articulate chatter and conversations are not too loud yet not too quiet for anyone who had the nerve to add on nor the audacity to step in. devious hushed giggles and cruelly clever remarks still being heard, the affluent demons situate themselves comfortably before the grand feast.

entertained by the mulled wine and glorious halcyon strokes of the Rococo paintings that ordain the burgundy upper fortifications. soft classical music soaks through while they breath in the malodorous rich phlox air, sitting blissfully. a rays of candlelight chandeliers and the whimsically painted ceiling of the golden cumulus clouds pierced through almighty arch angels shine above their privileged heads. glimmering in the sunlight swimming the room as the servers begin re-pouring the sparkling alcohol in their half empty glasses.

being settled in the middle of the table, our dear sweet princess- sits tracing the outline of her wine glass with a single finger.

the slight high pitch hum sends her deep in the labyrinth of her thoughts as she internally chants to remind herself who she is. more so the individual figure she is manifesting, someone who will give her strength through this tear dropping moment.

though here she is, green as the frog prince tale her neglecting father read to her to sleep when she was a child- she couldn’t help but not shed the ugly ivy shade.

for only the scene in front of her would make dutiful damsels cry in their lace handkerchiefs and shining knights in silver armor woe in pity- it gave all the more reason to.

bare elbow resting on the table, it holds up her clenched fist. holding up her chin while she leans upset on forced straight shoulders. glossy nude lips pursed, sharp eyes puncture through the white cloth of the finely dressed table. once again restraining herself not to pout or let a sign of disgust crowd her face to make her emotions and thoughts obvious.

[y/n] [l/n] will prevail through this- well, until she starts to hear a giggle, and then a hushed whisper.

biting down on the inside of her cheek to ease the need of wanting to snap a snarky comment between the two individuals. for whom are speaking in front of her rather carelessly (for the fact that one of the which- his date or so you found out much earlier “fiancé” was excusable but it didn’t keep you from wanting to rip the woman’s tongue out) she simply rethinks her situation away from her prior knowledge and sit to a solid conclusion.

it seems as though you’ve been replaced

if it were possible, the tips of your ears tint up in a blistering crimson red as smoke curls, like a teapot screeching as the water was boiling over. although you don’t let that scream out nor the tears you’re keeping within. instead, slender brows arch and scrunch in their artful cynical manner.

your inflicting conscious attempts to cool down the bubbling boiling cauldron of vexes in the pit of your belly that you want to spite the man across. yet you’re unsure whether it’s because you feel like vomiting or because the scene in front of you is pushing a new level of internal disgust in yourself.

strange how you put yourself up with this in the first place is a whole heart mystery

listening in and out of your beloved friends conversations- centering around typical topics such as boys, books and bucks. [y/n] sits rather contemptible.

[y/n] doesn’t want to deal with the suffocating thick air of strained smiles, faux compliments, and forced giggles and chuckles.

all do nothing but rot her Dior perfumed presence the tragic princess is illed from this life.

facing too many cold greedy touches to her bare highlighted shoulders and too many fabricated comments twined with vicious sarcasm and shaded in fifty shades of irony. it was all too much to handle, even when their pockets were dripping in gold and bundles of cash it was all a façade. apprehending the reflection of pure hatred in the rich folks split red irises, it has all been seen and taken accounted of hundreds of nonchalant times.

all fail to make you shiver, all fail to make you resign

[y/n] doesn’t know how long she’s going to have to sit and look pretty, not for herself no but for an image.

all for the sake of her fashion designer mother, who urged her to have a gala for her high performance and decree. how can you say no to your own mother? even after all the vicious Hell she puts you through, she got you here. mistaking your own emotional withdrawal for strength at her cruel hands, she crafted her own perfect daughter.

one who showed no weakness, who gave no mercy

despite this, she feels herself crumbling

[y/n] doesn’t feel like talking or thinking about the silly and irrelevant ideals and prospects that don’t involve her sitting on his lap.

straddling the strong warmth of his thighs while your inner ones grind against his searing loins. wanting to act on the fine lines of either choking him or kissing him to death as your jeweled fingers play with the buttons of his expansive crisp white.

head full of toxic odium inflections you want to slash against the gentleman across it doesn’t mix right knowing you wish to be that women sitting next to him. the one who receives the cheeky whispers, who gets to feel his tongue when you two kiss.

instead, you ease the desire by taking a quick unnoticed swing of the moonshine in your silver flask. placing the vile thing back in your pearl Gucci clutch you grasp the item close to the ribs of your abdomen- quickly popping a mint in your mouth to mask the telling breath. keeping touch with your breathing, the shiny diamond ring on the woman’s finger almost made you choke the first time you saw it.

your heart nearly stopping dead in your chest when it sparkled and the hand that was twined with it was wrapped in another that also displayed the gold band. it threw you off completely and wrecked havoc on your heart and mind that you had to excuse yourself to cry in the bathroom.

now, your tears are nearly spent. the sight of dreaded thing only boils along with the other bittersweet things you find meaningless when it dealt with the gentlemen.

the gentlemen across the dinging table, that broke too much of your heart and took too many pieces.

[y/n] doesn’t want to look or hear the heart shattering display of affection that is proceeding right in front of her eyes.

knowing there was a certain unintentional catch to performing your celebrating gala you weren’t exactly sure what the decoy was. all until the deliberate provocative maneuvers were performed by the enemy himself.

that enemy, the gentlemen across from you, is puffing a thick Cuban cigar. not cowering against your bellicose gaze nor shudder of the battle cry that rings in the deep pools of your irises. he should know better not to play such a shrewd egocentric game when you’ve been playing it for years.

however the battlefield is empty, but you want war

you want it so bad it’s clouding your judgement, clouding every rational thought that brings you to reasonability.

if he wishes to avoid this matter let him be labeled as a wise coward. if he wishes to take you to battle then let him burn in the crossfire of his deserved loss

you’ve had the experience of driving your victims in circles- questioning themselves on their own apprehensions and relation predictions.

it was fun driving them over the lines of their morals and boundaries. it was even more fun to sit in the passengers seat as you insisted for them to not hit the breaks and for-long the steering wheel. telling them they had no worries as they drove over the cliffs edge. yet in the end they always hit the breaks and they always begged for you to forgive them for it.

no one had the will to do so, no one could satisfy your hunger

the deed at the moment- the childish yet very humorous game is more so a chore now if you were to admit. no longer a stringed merriment of imperious interest to drive your morphine high. on the other hand you aren’t going to ignore the piercing glance which soul purpose is to make you stare back.

the constant idyllic remarks that relentlessly grab your unwanted attention make him somewhat smirk as you notice it from the corner of you eye. the cocky grin almost willing you to shove that monarch title of yours in his face. slowly making him wish as you keeps his glare on you that you’d step off your throne and accuse him of revolt against the crown.

anything to make him hear your voice again

the finger of your right hand that was still tracing the wine glass halts as you grab the chalice within your clawed hold. tapping the glass slowly with your shimmery white acrylics, all you see is red.

red, red, blistering red

[y/n] Beaudelaire is furious

if anyone truly knew her they would notice that she is indeed too quiet. that the way she purses her lips is a comprehensible threat that friends, classmates, and acquaintances are regretfully familiar with.

cause they all know, that once [y/n] Beaudelaire is simmering with the acrimony of the Gods there will be vengeance to uphold. and sooner than later she will be redeemed, even if it means a dead body being buried or burned she will get away with it.

such wrathful repayment will have you second guessing your every daily decision, it will always come when you least expect it. although it will come (she sincerely promises) on a silver platter. polished and delivered by Karma herself that would make the War God Ares shiver and cower in fear and leave Athena in wonders on your foreshadowing strategies.

there are three golden rules you should know when you come across [y/n] Beaudelaire || never lie to her, never double-cross her, never get in her way

you would think these simple laws would be easy to understand, follow and obey on the account that they’ve been written like a syllabus within the minds of her subjects-

then you are sadly mistaken

there isn’t one event where an act of treason or mutiny were to be made against you, questioning your position of authority. you’ve known from the beginning that if you were constructing the building blocks of your kingdom a judicial system was to be constructed and laws were to be proclaimed.

even the rich have rules to follow in their own golden gate communities, you had your rules. it is no secret to everyone that the polished anarchy and shining throne that your seated on is built on the shameful secrets and corrupt deeds of your subjects. like a contract these vain money slicked cheats didn’t read the fine print.

the confidential information of the lieges were made as, somewhat clauses in contrary with whatever business you had to deal with or against them

everyone wished you the best of luck just as everyone wanted your throne, secretly wanting to burn you alive at the stake.

putting into perspective if they had burned you alive, taken the death enveloped in Holy fire nothing would change for their benefit. the anarchy, the high socially affluent class would crumple under new management. even the rich have rules to follow in their own golden gate communities, you had your rules.

the crown, throne and kingdom was all for you

not because it was a birth right passed down, but because the socially illusioned world created didn’t exist for you created a system that only you understood how to control.

you worked hard to have the social and financial suitors of both potential allies not just in your own state but from all around. from the Beverly Hills to the Upper East Side there are people watching over you. nobody wished to mess with you although they loved the idea of it, you knew of people that are even powerful than anyone in this room it was frightening.

teaching yourself to be socially assertive and wiser in making decisions whenever it came to making ties and bonds. a trait these close minded sheep in wolfs clothing couldn’t buy with their mommy's and daddy's plastic.

their silver spoon lives have been fed with opulent lies one mouthful at a time

the princess thinks, amusing herself she can’t help but smirk rather wickedly down at the light amber liquid in her crystal glass. it keeps her distracted from the brute man across, knowing exactly what’s conjuring in that pretty mind of yours.

coming off as innocent to the careless eye but if you knew [y/n] Beaudelaire nothing about the young lady is entirely innocent, at least not anymore. not as innocent as people loved and cherished, an element those poor simple fools took for fucking granted.

it could all have been ruined from the gentlemen in front of her, her cruel parents, fabricated friends and crushed dreams. but she used to remember herself as the sweet heartfelt cherub that’s casted into the thundering storm. a storm she cannot escape from, how can someone escape from the troubles of their own mind?

sure she was naïve then, oblivious of the ways of the affluent world around her. so uncertain and troubled, always so quiet with her nose in a book and always first to raise her hand when her teachers asked a question. a stuttering mess whenever a handsome boy would speak to her, even when it was but the simplest things.

she remembers those days. when she wouldn’t let herself be seen out without satin hair ribbons that matched her plaid skirts, blazers and stockings. simple trademarks being her black glossy heeled flats, powdered sugar bubblegum, lip-smacking strawberry chapstick, and the tender playfulness of her blooming body.

[y/n] Beaudelaire used to be pure- or whatever fucked up term that would describe a girl with no social experience.

now she’s considered an enigma. as many of her classmates and peers believe- a mystery, a paradox.

she was loyal, yet somewhat detached. platonic yet sensual, heartwarming yet tear wrenching. no one truly knows or understands her, nor wishes to. maybe the gentlemen some time ago wished but not anymore, the princess deems.

the elegant dining hall that accompanies the Beaudelaire family fitted fifty five guests. all from her graduating class, extended family, business affiliates and close courtiers bustled with energy as the food is beginning to be served.

conversations ending and picking up quickly in between mouthfuls of buttered bread rolls and sips of ancient wine. the steaming rotisserie chickens and roasted lamb shoulders sit on plates of roasted vegetables next to the multiple wooden baskets of rolls. ivory bowls of rice pea soup and dishes of white and red sauced pastas are placed in commendation with trays of salads in front of each sitting guests.

looking down at the ivory china, the pea soup was the last possible thing [y/n] wanted to consume and the flirtatious comments that were happening in front of her only added to the fire that was tearing inside of her.

thinking otherwise, he was getting back at her from her actions earlier, he was equally as jealous as her

[y/n] looks outside through the tall glass apertures, streaming in golden light the crowd of conversations and chatter going to the back of her mind. to help her recollect upon the events that happened earlier that day.

it’s a sunny breezy June day for the graduating class of Bradford for they had just arrived at the Osborne manor for lunch from the gardens of the Beaudelaire estate. considering it is the first week of summer break, long until she and her classmates are back to their books starting their third year of university.

they’ve decided instead of staying inside the fine Beaudelaire music room rehearsing their song for Madame Hautecourts (Bradfords founder) arrival next week, they’d rather spent it on the Beaudelaire estate.

surrounded by blooming flower beds, marble fountains and ivory statues. remotely unattended from any pressure bearing adults, it was heaven. enjoying the sound of buzzing bees and humming hummingbirds and the sight of elegant doves bathing in the birdbaths, their senior year was finally over and they were finally done with their studies.

the rich white teethed teens drank fizzy bourbon sodas, smoked cigars and played cards as a celebration. smiled with nefarious charm as they told, listened and laughed along detention stories and parent-teacher mishaps that have happened throughout their high school years.

it was their right to enjoy their summer break as shameless young adults committing prohibited acts. they were legal enough to break the law, but wealthy enough to get away with it

a golden ethereal moment [y/n] relished, yet couldn’t help but feel the peering stare of someone on her.

in shock she met the eyes of a figure that was staring down at her on the second story balcony of the mansion. immediately upon seeing the heavenly cerulean blue of his fierce glare caught her off guard completely, for she has never set sight of them in person in forever.

unaware from his return over seas all together she surely did not invite the man yet here he stands. head up looking down on you with those ocean hues as if disappointed with the clutch of moonshine in your grasps and the lips of a drunk boy at your neck.

ignoring the large group of adults chatting upon the carved ivory balcony. talking with champagne flutes in hand while cigarettes sit fuming in between their dazzling ring fingers, not caring for their children below as they commit their sins.

the gentlemen’s- Ari Levinson’s sharp glare was still present and it viscously dripped in distain. maybe baring the same shock you were feeling- that someone had their hands and lips on his property. knowing that tell, he did indeed notice you’re holding onto this boys hand that he will later find out is your boyfriend, Bryce Langely.

yes, the older man heard it right from your mothers lips - boyfriend.

it was a little bit, a morsel of karma that you unraveled against him. having gotten over Ari, your traitor of a Romeo you now savor in the violent delights of being a woeful Juliet. even when you sometimes feared over your newly found beau, you would overshadowed that creeping chill to spite that man who shattered your heart.

it came with its heartbreaking disadvantages but had abundances of limitless sinful privileges. obtaining a title that doesn’t include you ruining someone's will to live or playing a mind-fuck emotional waste game surely was your guilty pleasure.

granting all this, we all have learned from past mistakes- from past tragedies- that these violent delights that taste so virtuously divine, have their merciless violent ends.

this night will have its violent end and your wicked gaze told it all as it cascaded with Ari’s. so revengeful it was saddening, he thought as he exhaled the cloud of cigar smoke. feeling his fist tighten when the school boy of a boyfriend slipped his skinny fingers under the white satin of your slip dress. the beating in his chest increasing when you smirked, bite your lips on not the bastard but him.

breaking the stare wanting not to stare back, she straightens herself under the sun rays trying not to let him spoil the mood. instead of averting your eyes to the older man, you hold Bryce's bicep; lying your head on his shoulder.

the icy glare Ari returns was enough for you to wonder, were you going to regret doing this?

you’ve broken a vow, but that thought makes you bite your tongue hard in this falsehood. he broke his first, he promised he’d never leave you and he did. the pain its just as bad as you feel the metallic taste in your mouth.

I don’t belong to him, not anymore.

glancing your attention back up to the floral balcony you see that your Romeo has disappeared and serves him right. but where are you the audience touching up on this elicit affair?

well, ladies and gentlemen, let us start from the beginning...

it all started with a kiss.

a magical night that was the grand premier of [y/n’s] latest play, Romeo and Juliet.

you were the leading actress playing Shakespeare's unfortunate Juliet. the prima donna of the stage, the blazing star in everyone’s hearts that snowy February night.

[y/n] was nineteen, open to the ways of the world and at the time your Romeo was a much older man. but in the heat of the moment-

when the dazzling stage lights shone down on her and the audience cheered in a standing ovation as the single roses and bundles of baby breaths were thrown at her feet. as you took your bow, the chorus of the angels above song for the romantic tragedy of a teenage tale to be your reality.

seeing your Romeo, your Ari, grinning proudly from the side lines throwing a red rose at the hem of your gown - your heart pounded in this truth/

the romantically tragic tale was surely real when he snuck into her dressing room.

a bouquet of red roses in his hands asking her if she would like to take a stroll with him. when their eyes danced and fingers laced within each other as they walked towards the candlelit park. covering her with his own black trench coat over her revealing costume when the cold winds of January seared their cheeks. their lips met each other under a streetlamp as snow began to powder above them.

that kiss was the tipping domino that shattered their flirty student-tutor relationship into a secret scandalous affair. the visits between them only began after that, both Ari and [y/n] always either announced a date with a letter informing them or a surprise visit.

one of her favorite surprises, especially when it came to Ari- has been engraved in her memories for eons to come.

maybe it wasn’t as sweet and virtuous as [y/n] Beaudelaire dreamed of and remembered, but how can it not be when she felt like she was in heaven.

how could something be sin when it feels holy at the first touch?

it might be the endeavor of the Devil cause she still feels the temptation of his large warm hands. groping and grasping the powder blue lace of her nightie that wrapped the smooth skin of her waist on that warm pink honeysuckle June night.

a naughty moan erupted from her and a deep groan against him. [y/n] could taste the bitterly addicting taste of honeyed whiskey on his dazzling smile and couldn’t help at all but to pull onto his loose velvet tie. shamelessly whining and urging him to come closer as she unbuttoned his shirt, roaming her hands on his sculptured muscled chest.

reality has withered into a forgotten thought for dear sweet [y/n] Beaudelaire. although they both know an important figure as Mr. Levinson shouldn’t have been in her room. let alone cup the petal soft cheeks of [y/n] Beaudelaire as he kissed her harder, dancing his tongue with hers.

desire, desire, desire...

how she had desired - longed to feel his strong arms around her waist, his satin locks through her fingers, his muscled golden skinned everything against her. a thought struck her - what if her father and mother were to walk in any second?

both home early from their business trips? simple, all hell would break loose- figuratively and literally, although how could this not make her swoon more.

the danger and chaos incited the princess, she felt like a precious Juliet.

yet [y/n] couldn’t stop at the threat, couldn’t help the mesmerizing feeling of her plump warm lips against his sweet tasting ones. how he was her first kiss conflicted with the older man, it seemed she had much more experience than she was letting on.

danger and pleasure mix well, especially when Ari Levinson was pumping his throbbing hard cock into the tight virgin hole of [y/n] Beaudelaire. gripping the religious brooch of his golden chain in the palm of her hand, he continued to pump deep in and out of her. symphonies of moans and sighs adorned their blissful bubble waiting and urging to be popped.

whispering praises and soothing the dear girl as hot tears streamed from her eyes. kissing her temple telling her how well she did and how he loved her.

all while the droplets of blood curled with the puddle of nectar underneath their locked connection, soaking her rumpled Egyptian cotton sheets. his tempered hands gently caressed the curves of her summer ripe body, sucking her rose budded breasts and licking her honey slicked core.

the magical spell that she was under, the thrilling sin enfolding as he held the key to her own wrecking. how it felt so fucking goddamn right to straddle his lap and allow him to leave the dark cherry wine lovebites on her neck. ravishing in the sinfully divine reflections in his eyes, she flourished on their next encounter.

being this an unvarnished truth, it wasn’t just a kiss as you all know now. but the intensity, the pure desire radiating them both that full moon night as they ‘made love’ questioned dear [y/n] Beaudelaire whether or not it was an event she would regret for the rest of her days.

conflicts her presently as she stares down on her food, not allowing the elements of the present to interfere to connect to that corrupt heaven.

“promise me you’ll never forget this, forget me,” out of breath, you shushed in his ear and he stopped sucking the skin of her collarbones and gripping her rear entirely.

angling his face to meet hers, he examines his artwork- her ruby lips now pouty, being overworked from crashing his lips to hers. the blooming hickies covering her neck, collarbones, and breasts like springtime poppies.

the sweaty bare sunkissed skin of her naked body underneath him and her leaking honey cascading with his salty brim coats both their inner thighs is nothing but aerial piety.

noting the tears that glazed your eyes- the dear girl has never felt so defenseless, so vulnerable to heartbreak in her life. two droplet streams slip from her eyes and Ari’s heart weeps.

his precious princess being teary eyed will not do, not if he could help it.

lifting her on his lap, he raises his warm hands to cup her cheeks. wiping the tears with his thumbs, erasing their short lived existence before softly pressing his lips to hers. keeping his hands in place as she grips the silky hair that drops onto the back of his neck.

“how could I ever forget you? my angel, you are purely unforgettable. never ever forget it,” he hushes as he glides his thumb against her lips and onto her cheekbone.

he releases one hand to dig into his trouser pockets and reveals a shimmering piece that sparkles and shines in the moonlight, a heart locket. “when you wear this, i’ll know that your heart belongs to me. that I am worthy to have a place in your heart.” he glides his fingers around her throat, moving her hair to the side as he clicks the gold in place.

looking down on the locket, her fingers wrapping it close. “even without this pendent, my heart will always belong to you.”

beaming at the sight of you in his gift his heart is off to the races. you belong amongst the lavish pearl, blush pink and fanciful moonshine strokes of Lawrence Alma-Tadema’s signature paintings. the posh gold necklace rests securely around your lower neck and the promising pendant tips a luscious glossy glow upon her breasts.

she truly is art, to be seen and adored by everyone but only touched and worshiped by him/

“tell me daddy, please tell me i’m yours,” you sighed heavily, bust along with the locket lifting against Ari’s chest as you move her face even closer to his.

“no doll, daddy’s yours.” her giggle, a classical melody to his ears as she kisses him again sweetly.

he returns more passionately but stops immediately for the ding dong of the old grandfather clock announces the twelfth hour of the night, surprising as well as startling the girl. “it’s getting late, I can’t stay for long.” he quietly hushes, his voice slightly raspy causing [y/n’s] inner demons lustfully scream but she pouts and carps.

he’s leaving so soon, always so soon.

“don’t frown, pretty girl. we had to stop at some point.” he smirks as he picks up his shirt from the floor, buttoning it up swiftly.

getting up from your bed to find his belt from under it, he walks by the blue lace he stripped you of much earlier in the night. fitting the leather with his belt loops he zips up his pants, looking to the small table aside your bed he see’s his tie missing among your things.

judging from the small giggle that escapes your cheeky smirk he turns to you and opens an outreached hand. the tie as he predicted is in your hands, yet you keep it clenched against your chest looking at him as if you aren’t keeping anything from him.

though with the raise of an eyebrow and the other hand of his that softly yet firmly grabbing your jaw makes you question yourself if this trickery was a good idea, “It isn’t kind to take daddy's things, princess,”

the comment leaves your smirk dropping and a pout to form.

Ari always kills your teasing games with gentle kindness, always had the patience for your devious fairy like temper. his authorized stance was a killjoy but he held the discipline you lacked that helped balance your relationship.

rolling your eyes you give him his tie, which he takes after giving a subtle kiss to your knuckles. “good girl,” your core clenches at those words.

Ari has the right mixture of dominance and softness that made the cocoons in your stomach break free. the fluttering butterflies of lust flying to your heart and heading down to soak your already sore core.

hungry hands wander his muscled body, feeling and drinking everything in. playful eyes saunter down and lock on the front gaping tent of his pants. catching were your eyes lock on Ari smirks to himself, his dirty little girl.

he knows exactly what you’re thinking, purely naughty you are.

“my eyes are up here, angel,” and with that remark your eyes snap to his eager blue and you feel your face heating up.

the delicious ache between your legs from the previous adrenaline filled thrusts and pumps of Ari’s hips smashing into yours is like a VCR tape on repeat in your mind. leaving you bashfully smiling and shivering in cordial delight as you feel his white syrup drip from your puffy crux.

biting your bottom lip, however you aren’t at all shy to sit up over your plush pink comforter and grab his shirt needily. averting his eyes on you as you cup his bearded cheek. your eyes turn to wet glass and Ari is scared you might shatter into tears again, but your angelic smile makes him think otherwise and your holy wicked giggles do most for his growing erection.

the very things you do to him, he will never be able to explain in words.

“promise i’ll see you again, Ari. promise me we’ll have more nights like this,” lips ghosting over his purposely.

those same wandering hands slide over his chest slowly, working down exploring the front of his pants. rubbing the tent with rapacious fingertips he moans under your touch. if this feeling of intimacy was a type of bait they’re both now hooked.

“undoubtedly princess,” he keenly moans as he leans into your spit slicked lips yet you pull away giggling. “oh no, you don’t.” he suddenly grabs your waist and lifts you up from the cream sheets of your four poster bed. carrying you bridal style as he twirls you around your pale pink bedroom.

wrapping your arms around his neck you burst into a fit of hushed giggles, Ari smiles to himself.

such a darling princess, he thinks again, his darling princess

setting her back down on her bed he tucks her in and pecks her nose, caressing her lovebiten gold lace adorned neck. “my dove, i’ll see you tomorrow. for now is best you sleep.” he whispers breath warm against your lips he pulls away. turning his body to reach the secret doorway until-

“must you go? please stay, please,” you sit up, holding his face in your hands as he looks down at you.

tinges of sadness and tones of sleepiness shade deep in your eyes and Ari feels his heartstrings vibrating. how could he even think of letting you sleep alone? wouldn’t be a justified thing for him to take your purity, make love to you and leave you bare and cold all alone.

eyes shined bright as you looked up at him, so sweet and angelic and waiting for his response. he was unsure, of course his heart sang that he wanted to stay. yet questioned himself as to why he let himself corrupt your angel kin, why he allowed himself to fall in love with you. dreamt every night for you to warm the empty cold spot on his bed.

dreamt of making you his.

the killing absence is a tell.

Ari wants to stay, oh how he wants to stay.

although he is scared, terrified- that once he lays on your bed with the comfort of your warm sleeping body against his, he won’t ever be able leave.

terrified that all conscious awareness of knowing this love is forbidden will be erased cause he won’t care. as long as he feels your heart beat against his when he shuts his eyelids. terrified that this may be all a dream and he’ll wake up in his bed alone with you not by his side.

you can notice the troubling hesitation, even when his eyes are on you his mind is somewhere else. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him down on you until his clothed body is pressed softly against your bare one. until your eyelashes flutter against each other, until your lips feel each others breath.

“please, stay,” your whisper soft and airy, your face as well as the pendent ravishing in complete beauty and elegance.

you are truly his, and he will never let you go

with that he doesn’t answer because he’s taking off his clothes again till he is bare and vulnerable just like you. picking up your sheets he slips next to you. “come, my dove,” he hushes and you shuffle against the sheets to lay on him.

each of your legs on the opposite of his sides, your naked breasts pressed against his warm lifting chest. damp face still parallel to his he sees a tear leak from your eye and hear a small sniffle.

“what’s wrong?” hand at the back of your neck he pulls you closer.

“w-what happens if they find out about us? what happens i-if they tear us apart?” whimpering your voice breaks in between sobs.

Ari cups your cheeks while he shakes his head, as if what your saying is impossible and hopeless. both you star-crossed lovers should know-

by the fate of the tragic stars above was this night destined to come.

“never. never would they be able to tear me away from you. [y/n] look at me, I would never let that happen,” his whispered voice euphoric as he holds the sides of your face.

hushed sobs escaped your mouth, Ari wipes your tears with his rough palms. hugging you close until you calm down and your small hiccups can be heard. a small smile begins to unfold between the two of you and Ari folds a piece of your hair behind your ear.

you’re so beautiful when your bare and on top of him, it’s almost godly.

starry face, body and soul is just begging to be worshiped, he does worship you. “even if they try and succeed, they would be at a loss. For my heart would still belong to you, forever and always.” by that, your lips stretch in a tragic smile.

“forever and always,” you sigh as your lips meet his in a wistful kiss.

lips passionate against yours, hands in his wild hair and legs intertwined you both fall in the black hole of desire again. both of you know that this was destined to happen, that they was no way to avoid or prevent this.

your heart his and his heart yours, both eternal and forever blooming.

when you two are finally spent and sore in the most wonderful of ways, you lie on your sides. facing each other by enjoying each others presence, tracing and retaining every freckle, scar and birthmark with caressing fingertips. grabbing the red lace ribbon that was initially in your hair, you tie it around Ari’s wrist.

tired eyes going dreamy, he lays to his side smiling and watching as you wrap and finish the lace with a bow.

“it isn’t much, but if- on the account, that they do tear us apart. please know that I will wait for you. always.” hushing, your bodies glow in the loves rays of the pale lavender moonlight present.

pulling you to his chest, your face finds the crook of his neck and breath in his natural scent. “and I to you,” he says kissing the top of your hair, wrapping his arms guarding you in the most comforting way.

“Goodnight good night, my Romeo,”

parting is such sweet sorrow -

“Goodnight good night, my Juliet,”

that I shall say good night till it be morrow.

you remember after the night was more love and happiness you don’t know you could ever feel. in your opinion that morning the following day was like a perfect reverie.

Ari and you were woken up from their lovesick slumber by the sing song of the morning birds and the vivid yellow sun rays. giggled and admired the memory of last night as he pressed butterfly kisses over your hipbones and belly.

wearing nothing but Ari’s cream button up and him in his briefs they had a French breakfast out on the brick terrace barefoot surrounded by Persian buttercups and marigolds.

afterwords they took a bubble wash in her clawfoot bathtub and put on some clothes, smelling fresh of rose water and milky dove soap. walking down the staircase as he had to leave, you kissed him goodbye but he reassured you that he will be back that same night to see you again.

however with unfortunate timing, your parents returned that afternoon from their separate business trips. with greater outcomes than they both have expected, news of their return and latest success most likely cautioned Ari. he is one of her father’s most close old friends and obvious of his return he did not come to the celebrating lunch that same day which dishearten [y/n] but she knew that he would come around.

and he did, time and time again through the end of your first year of college and following into the middle your second year. that is, until he stopped and disappeared from her completely when the summer season went by.

the day you thought would be a nice idea to stop by the private elite college to see Ari. you were surprised to find that everything in his office to find everything of his gone except a letter on the desk with your name on it. you’ve examined the empty room around you, the framed degrees on the wall and boxes of filing papers vanished.

the office clerk had informed you that he was here when you arrived, seeming to suspicious you told her that you were meeting him for ‘counseling purposes’.

now siting in his chair by his desk you opened the letter with shaky hands, prepared yourself to either be completely devastated or perplexed. slipping the letter out and forced yourself to take a deep breath as you focus on the cursive black ink.

My Dearest Dove,

I beg hat you won’t be disappointed. won’t be mad or even put this on yourself, it kills me to see you cry.

I didn’t have the heart to tell you this sooner and with that I dread itself though I will be back in a couple of months.

Know that the sun will blaze and the moon will shine and the planets will orbit into oblivion.

For my love for you was gifted by the stars and with that I beg of you to do the most and wait.

it was soiled with a teardrop as you finished reading the last words. the letter left a sore pain in her heart that was laced with amorous longing. leaving his office with the letter in hand, salty melancholy tears on your tongue and a prolonging ballad hum in your tender voice.

you didn’t blame him for taking a job opportunity over seas as you later found out but it hurt knowing he didn’t tell you of this earlier. so you did what he asked you to do, to wait for him.

the lovely burning hours of wasting through your summer retreat daydreaming of your runaway Romeo to return turned into days. then with greatest unfortune days into weeks, and weeks into months till now it has been a solid year without a single phone call, letter, or personal appearance.

until now that he sits across from you.

the sheer heart shattering thought rattled in her mind that last summer day and with that tears threaten to glaze and drop from her mascara lashes at this moment.

our princess, our Juliet already accepted that it was an incident…

incident be damned.

the man is no ordinary man but a public figure. Mr. Levinson could not risk his professional career to a scandal. thinking you probably weren’t worth the risk in his eyes, you’re blinded by the truth of how utterly wrong you are.

everyone knows that he has worked and had an extensive history with the justice department in the earlier years of his life. eventually in some time in his life settled as a criminal behavioral specialist teaching a division of B.A.U students at Harvard.

when people young and old see him, they see a hardworking risk-taking man who risked his life for our country and to help many others in need. on the other hand when girls [y/n] age see him they see dollar signs, because of course the man had the opportunity to retire, but saw fit that the rank of superior director of future agents would be a better use of his time.

for just that fact alone is the true reason for his previous failed marriage, how and why it came to an end. Hell even you knew that he was divorced, you would see and notice the picture frames of a little girl that was always placed on his desk. whenever you tried to say or ask anything about it he always changed the topic, seeming empty and broken. you knew that the little girl was Ari’s daughter, you just didn’t want to push the subject but he would soon open up to you later on.

part time however, Mr. Levinson was an advocate as well as counselor for Ivy Leagues. the very first the two of you met was the day he was gathering and advising students for college preparatory programs and collecting college applications.

when you stepped inside the counselors office, and took a deep inhale of the incense soaking the air. the soft eye contact he given as you chanted about your aspirations and ambitions. the way he held your hand when you started to speak on your mental and social troubles. telling you that you were safe to speak your mind on any topic.

once you left his office that day, you felt the singing sensation of wanting to see him again. memorize his face so its like an oracle for your mind to fantasize, remember his smooth voice till you can hear it in your dreams. an unforeseen crush was formed and with that you started finding new ways of seeing him, which meant more visits to the counselor office.

you wanted to talk to him more, speaking on topics that didn’t revolve around your sweet cynical ordeals but for but for him to get a taste of your sweet cynical- well you get the picture.

you wanted to get to him to touch you. so shy touching your hand and shoulder from time to time realizing he was getting much more comfortable around you then what was appropriate for him as a counselor.

you wanted to get him to kiss you. during that prophetical freshman year of university when the Shakespearean performance commenced you did get that kiss.

if you were being truly honest with yourself, you don’t at all regret it.

you truly don’t.

he was your counselor, he was somewhat of a tutor at times but it wasn’t at all professional when they had been continuously flirting and teasing each other. an affair fueled on both sides as you two tried on riling the other person up until they had no clue what happened when your hands found each others.

it was nerve racking trying to convince yourself that you were just using him so he’ll pull some strings to get you an even closer advantage into Harvard than you already had.

Ari knew [y/n] was younger- but the intelligence, sophistication, and charm that you were gifted he couldn’t help but fall head over heels.

it was wrong, a disgusting thing to do he thought and thought. but with your consent and the love you gave back to him made those thoughts stop. he was under loves heavy burden and oh did he sink stepping forth into your siren like song.

Mr. Levinson was never a man to settle when he could do so much more, even when the man was ensured with millions of dollars the government owned him in his missions adding onto his current affluent job the man was indeed wealthy.

you’d have to be in order to be around such prosperous bluebloods, where old money and power come hand in hand. these upper class folk think they rule the world and by him being a respected figure, people laid countless loyalties to him.

it isn’t fucking fair.

how could he still sit there, thinking he helped you when he took the sharpened sword of your trust and loyalty to only just stab you with it. through your already browbeaten and broken heart you gave with shaking hands and pitiful eyes.

where you carried the broken pieces of her heart where ever you went, like a pathetic souvenir of some sort that you bragged for some reason. you were and are so emotionless, so deprived of such that you mistaken it as strength. so desperate that Ari Levinson himself helped stitch and glued back together.

all that to just shatter it within his grasp, letting the ambrosial blood gush on his hands and wipe it all over your fucking face.

so rather then turning into the broken clueless little girl you outgrew, you instead picked up the bleeding smithereens and put them together yourself. with the will of an iron fist the burning sensation of your blood, sweat and tears you forced yourself up. swearing you will never fall to a defeat like this again.

yet this won’t excuse your thoughts, you swore that you will only exchange the same treatment back to him when the opportunity occurred.

and now is the perfect time, as he sits at your will to find and make amends.

a spiraling storm begins to unravel within the mind of [y/n] Beaudeliare, she will not be silenced from her treacherous heartache. she will see to it that she will have that man begging on his knees for forgiveness, and maybe set him on fire if it suits her liking.

snapping out of her day dream [y/n] couldn’t help but not sneak a quick look at him, I mean he is across the table.

peering from the setting sun she looks to him and she wishes she hasn’t. the face she fantasizes of at night yet curses in her daydreams holds the apple of her eye and she feels Cupids skilled golden arrow rip through your heart once again.

soft toffee hair parts on top his shoulder blades, dark sultry beard slightly trimmed going in stark contrast against his white pressed dress shirt. wondering eyes lingered onto his wrinkle free collar to see the three top buttons loose revealing his golden Star of David chain and a trail of dark chest hair.

the woman next to him was indeed beautiful and held more mature features than her. if anyone were to see these two sitting together they’d assume they were together but think twice to see that the man is Ari Levinson and he is already married to his job then be shocked again when they find he’s engaged. you believe the woman's name is Miss. - soon to be Mrs - Liz Earl, but dismiss it every time she introduces herself.

asking her to repeat her name saying it always slips your mind, pretending she didn’t exist when she tried to speak to you. thus on the account of you responding you tried to make her question whether or not you liked or despised her.

it wasn’t right at all to be this petty and you know it. you aren’t acting like yourself by taking your pain and convicting it on the poor women. although you can’t deny the connection she has with Ari that makes your blood pound with resentment. you especially cannot deny that you haven’t seen him wrap his arm around her waist or chuckle along to whatever she had to say or kiss her while they lit their thick cigars. with that you rolled your eyes at your sincerity even though you were wrong doing so.

Ari would catch you within his actions and your vicious feedback. he wasn’t blind to your raging sorrow and he wasn’t petty enough to actually comment back at you or play in the game you were initiating.

but he hates to see you this way

is he the only one who sees the tears in your eyes? the falseness in your smile and remarks? the ache in the way you try so hard to present yourself that everyone seems to fall for? what is he suppose to do?

Ari can’t exactly grab your face and kiss you for the whole world to see but he wants to, he can’t avoid you any longer. desperately trying so hard to move on, even now that another women is holding his hand and kissing him he still personally wishes it was you. longing to see you again from the very beginning of his voyage he sees you now, heartbroken and patience gone to waste.

the very last thing he wanted for you, a deed he should have never put on you. even though you hate his existence, Ari wishes for you to simply look at him.

not look at him behind his back or when he didn’t know you were staring, he wants to meet your irises to his. you’ve been driving him in circles as you planned, all he wants is to hear you sweet voice yet he can’t get over your arrogance.

your self righteousness that made him fall for you in the first place

on the other hand, his presence was enough to make you shift and either burst into a mess of tears or throw a fucking bitch fit. although you will not show any sign of torment, not a single weak manifestation. especially not for the man that treated someone of your worth as a shameful sin when he worshiped you behind closed doors.

“Miss. Beaudelaire,” a deep voice rang and you turned your head to the mayor sitting on the right of your father.

“it’s wonderful to hear that you’ve been doing so well in your classes. the Beaudelaire residency endures their traditional status.” Mr. Waldeyer Hartz exclaims, peering at you from across the long table which catches everyone’s ears.

a gleaming smile is revealed and you pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, they will be in for a surprise.

[y/n] can’t help but enjoy the attention, she hasn’t worked years of college hell as President of the Student Body and claimed Valedictorian while crushing any competition to not enjoy time in the spotlight.

from the corner of her eye she catches Ari clapping, bringing a chorus of clapping from all others. the gesture leaves you bashfully smile and when your eyes meet his the beat of your heart flutters in that dear nostalgic way.

a strong proud smile displayed on his face that lights up his eyes in some magical way. the lovely gesture only you got to see, cause it is only meant for you and only you.

though that divine thought once warm and sensational leaves you empty and cold. you aren’t the women in his life no more, thinking again you weren’t even his to begin with.

how can someone be loved and be claimed as such when they are buried like a dirty shameful secret?

you’ve grown up at the receiving end of heartbreak. whether it’s the cruel torment you’ve received from your classmates from your early school years. your parents toxic high expectations and standards they whipped you up to fulfill. to simply feeling broken when you keep disappointing yourself realizing you haven't gotten over your treacherous Romeo.

your Ari.

it’s too late to head back now.

you’ve put to time, effort and power into getting yourself here. it will not be shot down for a cry of remorse and validation. you will never put yourself forth in that again.

“actually, Mr. Hartz. there have been some alterations.” you say, chest empty and heart cold.

“you say? do tell!” Mr. Hartz cheers, while the guests peer their eyes on you from the sudden attention.

“i’m not attending Harvard anymore for my last year. in fact i’m transferring to Princeton, right father,” you say and your father smiles at you nodding his head.

“those individual service programs and essays did work well in the end, and not to mention Mr. Levinson’s considerate word and recommendation letters. it was quite simple to please the Princeton officials,” you smile, teeth gleaming and eyes bright.

“you hear that Levinson! your star pupil will be competing against you in the big leagues now!” Mr. Hartz exclaims, cackling and erupting in boisterous laughter along with her father and a couple other of his close friends.

she doesn’t even spare Ari a glance but she imagines the rage and offence on his confused face. unsure as to what happened but he traces back to the hours and hours of you and him together-

were you merely just using him?

the gentlemen's clapping stops and he looks at you again. you’re completely ravishing as the cheers continue and you start making your mini speech but its all hazy in the back of his mind.

is this some sort of back biting trap you set out for him to fall for or has he been clueless this whole time thinking you really felt for him?

he may have left you, but it was for your own good

how could he stay by your side just to ruin your life knowing that the love you two share will never be accepted? how could he have stayed when the love he feels for you tears at his heart? knowing he can never truly have you?

breaking his vows and promises to you of course, but if this all was a sort of plan of yours. so, has he done the right thing at all for leaving you?

yes and no. its all so complicated even when the answer is in front him, drinking her strawberry rose from her crystal glass.

he still loves you, if it was possible its a galaxy stronger than before. its ripping his lungs and heartstrings wanting to know- urging to know if you feel the same.

“an Ivy League image is to be bestowed upon you young lady. keep up the good work and don’t disappoint us.” your father says and you wince, knowing it isn’t as sweet as he spoke.

with that everyone goes back to their own silly privileged conversations as the dessert course starts to be served.

the smell of chocolate, fresh strawberries and lemony puffed pastry fills the room. plates of powdered berry oven cakes come in varies colors and sizes. trays of dark chocolate covered strawberries and white chocolate red velvet croissants replace the empty dinner dishes.

“oh, [y/n] you have met up with my grandson have you?” Ogden Osborne, the principle of Bradford adds nonchalantly.

sipping from his wine glass gesturing to the shiny blond young man no more than a seat away from her. “he just so happened to transfer for Princeton himself and I believe you will both have some classes together. am I right Bryce, my boy!” he chuckles and the young man laughs lightly giving her a flirty smile.

as if on que, Maya Langely - who has been siting to your left excuses herself from the table to chat with Finn Earl who you recently found out is Liz Earl's son. switching seats with Bryce Langely, you find yourself staring face to face with the shiny blond with the bottled green eyes.

“hello [y/n/n]. it’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Bryce smiles fondly, a bit too sweet as he reveals his wolfish smile. sitting closer to you, gibing you a rather tight hug yet his hands slip under the table to grip your ass roughly.

the eyes of her father and mother and Mr. Osborne don’t notice this yet Ari grits his teeth in a seething sneer.

Ari knows boys like these, he knows they treat everything of the opposite sex as a chess piece. a challenge in their selfish and heartless games. does his Juliet know Bryce flirts with everything with a beating pulse while she isn’t around?

apparently not. little naïve [y/n] kissed her devious demon for a boyfriend after settling in the dining room when Ari himself stumbled upon hearing her blond beau. hidden away in a coat closet making out between some girls legs as he went to find a room to smoke in.

“it has, hasn’t it? a whole year! it’s your fault you’ve moved away and haven’t kept in contact with me!” you joke and he laughs and gleams that boyish smile that makes all the schoolgirls blush, gripping your ass tighter.

[y/n] and Bryce always play this game, pretending to not know each other. though they were childhood best friends they’ve grown apart due to well, growing out of each other. realizing they had different likes and interests as all childhood friends do.

even throughout high school they both never associated with each other, they weren’t within the same social circles and they sure didn’t have the same friends. with this you’d imagine they never get along yet with two horny and danger seeking teenagers anything is possible.

you won’t ignore the sexual eagerness in his eyes that is overlooked by plenty but you don’t care for him. you do not care for Bryce because your legs lift from underneath the table to slip under Ari’s one pants leg.

caressing the leg with the front of your ivory Prada heels making Ari’s gaze shoot to you when he was in midst conversation with Liz. staring at the dessert options you don’t return the stare but continue with your footwork.

guests begin to grab what desserts catch their eyes and you place a mini raspberry dome cake on your plate. cutting your fork into the lemon cake and taking it into your mouth, the whipped cream and raspberry jam covers your lips. licking them coyly, Ari’s stare is nothing but punishing.

it brings you back to all the times you purposely acted up to just have his attention. always succeeded you did as he would whisper dirty things in your ears about what he was going to do once the two of you were alone. at this moment you’re proud to know it still works like a charm once you feel his warm hand clenching your ankle.

ignoring the warning glare you chat with Bryce, joking and teasing the rest of dessert despite your fear of him creeping up your spine. occasionally, just to piss Ari off- you’d whisper and giggle sweet nothings in Bryce's ear whilst caressing your bare foot against your suffering Romeos hardening manhood.

leaving both you and Bryce smiley and giggly like schoolchildren and Ari sexually affronted trying desperately to hold in a moan.

smirking, feeling accomplished when Ari starts to sweat and hide the growing pleasure from the woman next to him. she asks if he feels alright, Ari’s respond is short of nothing but murmurs and a grunt while he shifts in his seat. keeping the small sly smile, you remove your foot all together to just place it back, rubbing his now solid cock. dipping a single finger in the cakes syrupy sweetness of jam and cream, taking your coated finger you take it in your mouth.

[y/n] could feel the burning eyes of Ari against her but you pull out your signature doe eyes. letting a slight pout come into the equation, Ari feels his heart melt and he wants to yank your foot when you start rubbing harder. maybe steal you away, pull you close in the dark corner of a secluded empty room and return the teasing favor.

wanting to do so he can’t even shift, your motions building up inside him he feels like he’s going to bust in his pants any second. so he then removes your foot giving you the coldest glare that even makes you stop. excusing himself from the table, alarming his fiancé but you roll your eyes at this action. Ari’s expecting you to follow him.

how fucking typical for the man who still thinks he owns you. you will not follow him, you won’t hop along. you aren’t his clueless bunny no more.

sudden clanking is erupted from across the table, to see sight of her dearest uncle clanking his pudding spoon against his wine glass catching everyone’s attention.

“everyone attention! i’d like to make a toast. this year has indeed been hard for us all, but when you look upon the reckoning there we see the clearing of a new resolution. it amazes me to this day that we see the youth taking charge of their futures, and I am utmost proud of my youngest niece. [y/n/n] Beaudelaire for carrying on our bloodlines legacy and continuing to bring honor upon us. ‘here here!’ for our dearest princess [y/n/n]!”

“here here!” the table cheers, raising their glasses of wine and champagne towards the dear princess, smiling and praising for your victory.

seeing sight of her father and mother smiling proudly at her, all their business friends and affiliations congratulate you once again. friends giggling, pecking your cheeks in swift hugs and your male classmates holler praises and throwing flirtatious winks.

the table continuously cheers and Bryce presses a kiss to your cheeks while you take a sip of your glass of white wine. yet you feel disheartened.

all this time you have thought you’d be sharing this moment with Ari. despite its what you’ve wanted, you feel melancholy and abruptly bitter.

this isn’t right, this doesn’t feel right whatsoever.

for how have you planned this to emotionally collapse on you when it was meant to make you feel better? how have you been focusing on yourself and loving yourself to only wish to be in the arms of the man who hurt you the most?

is this how that unfortunate Capulet girl felt? having no escape from the raging love she felt for a person she couldn’t have?

growing up, [y/n] knew that the storybooks on her bedroom shelves told no lies, the magical tales bared no falsehoods. being the innocent small girl she was, wishing upon stars by her windowsill when she couldn’t go to sleep you prayed for a prince to save you.

that night, the stars knew all your downhearted disputes, your troubling sorrows as you wept every single one to them. have they truly listened to you that North Star night ago, have they believed you?

the wise astral beings above know all and see all but are they working in your favor?

I reassure you this ladies and gentlemen, no matter how tragic or wicked the stars may be - they don’t act without purpose.

♡♡♡ thank you for reading! ♡♡♡ pretty please like, reblog and/or comment what you think and if you enjoy this follow me to read more of my future works! ♡♡♡

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ my storybook || aka my masterlist!

#ari levinson #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson smut #brattycherubwrites #chris evans #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut #the red sea diving resort

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